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unabashedpeachgentlemen · 2 years

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horns and tails! (itto x hybrid!reader)

some friends to lovers/childhood friend to scratch that itch in my brain teehee. The story start with you and Itto as children and ends when you're older.

You are a hybrid, and grew up in a town that did not appreciate hybrids. Lucky for you, there was a little oni boy to keep you company

word count: 2316

When you think of a kirin, you think of a strong, noble beast. Strong yet majestic, with long and a gorgeous mane. You had nothing but respect for their kind, your mom made sure of that. She constantly reminded you that the kirin blood that flowed through your veins was a gift from the Archons above.

So why, then, were the other kids so mean to you?!

“They’re horns, not antlers!” You hollered at the kids in front of you.

“What’s it matter, freak?! Either way, they still make you a monster!”

Truth be told, it didn’t matter. You always cringe when you thought back onto this day. Ultimately, it didn’t matter whether you called them “horns” or “antlers”, they were weird things that stuck out of your head and couldn’t be hidden like your tail. To your 6 year old self though, that was the hill you were ready to die on.

You remember holding back tears as you confronted those kids. They had been rude to you the second your mom enrolled you in school! But like your mom told you, the kirin is patient and docile, and kirin blood ran through your veins. So you took it, and took it, and took it, and then one day you just had enough.

“Th-they do not! They make me strong, and- and…brave!” You practically hiccupped out.

“Eww, it’s crying!” One girl cried out. “Monsters aren’t supposed to cry!” Called out the boy who was making fun of your horns. You didn’t even understand what he meant. Why couldn’t monsters cry? Surely they got sad too? You didn’t understand, but it still hurt.

“HEY!” Shrieked a kid behind you. You spun around, eyes widening at the rapidly approaching kid. He had strange, white hair, piercing red eyes, and a weird headband. And he was pissed. You clutched your tail to your body, trying to make yourself look small. The way he was approaching, he’s not seriously going to attack you, is he?!

But before you can react, he practically pushes past you, almost making you lose your balance. “YA GOT A PROBLEM OVER HERE?! HUH?!” he bellowed out at the other kids puffing his chest out. “It’s the oni boy!” another kid yelps, and before you know it, they all scatter away from you.

Leaving just you and this weird boy.

“Argh! I freakin’ hate them! Ev’ry. Single. One. Of them!” He suddenly spins around, flashing a sharptoothed grin and reaching his hand out. “I’m Itto!”

You blinked at him, still processing that sudden mood shift. “Uh. Um.” He kept his hand out.

“Wow, cool horns! I wish mine were longer, mine are still just nubs, but Granny Oni says that they’ll come in eventually!” You looked up at him. You realized that that wasn’t a headband, it was a pair of small horns! And wow was this kid tall.

“What are you, anyways?” You’re even more taken aback at this. First of all, that just sounds rude. Second of all, wasn’t it obvious?! You puff out your chest a little. “I have kirin blood flowing through my veins,” you began reciting the speech your mom regularly gave you, “and it makes me strong-“

“Ooh! I have oni blood- er, I AM an oni! That makes me super strong! If you’re strong too, let’s be friends!” You blanked. Did he just…interrupt you?! No no, wait, did he just ask to be your friend?! You quickly also realize that his hand is still outstretched. You slowly grab his hand before shaking it and flatly saying your name. “Wow, this is awesome! I haven’t seen another hybrid around here since, like, uh, EVER! Hey, aren’t kirins s’posed to only have one horn?”

“Kirins born in war have two horns, and kirins born in times of peace have one horn! Mommy says because things are bad I have two horns.”

“Hm. Well. I have two horns too, so that makes us war buddies!”

“Kirins don’t fight! Kirins don’t go to war!”

“Then you can be my medic!”

You wanted to scream, but you stopped again to stare at him. This was the first time you’ve had a “real” conversation with someone your age. Someone who wasn’t trying to run away from you.

“-HEY HEY I’m sorry! We don’t hafta be war buddies! I was just kidding!” You didn’t realize why he looked so panic until you realized you were crying. “N-no! I wanna be war buddies!” You sobbed out. “P-please! We can be war buddies!”

That day, Itto had felt so bad for supposedly making you cry. He lead you to Granny Oni’s and his home, practically demanding you eat dinner with them. He claims food always makes you feel better, and he wasn’t going to let you leave until you felt better!

He was so excited to share the mixed yakisoba Granny Oni made for him. So excited, in fact, when you informed him that you were a vegetarian and could not eat that, it was his turn to cry. He felt bad for letting you down again, but he was determined you would eat dinner. So he scrounged up every carrot in the house and gave it to you in a large bowl. Bon appetit!

Granny Oni eventually came back home and was shocked to see a little kirin playing with her little oni. It warmed her heart, and she walked the two of you back home. Your mother immediately pulled you in and apologized, thinking she was a townperson here to complain about her monster child being out in public. When Granny Oni instead introduced herself and explained you and Itto had been playing together, your mother shed a tear of her own. She didn’t know if you’d ever be able to make friends in this little town!

You and Itto continued to play almost every day. Instead of going back to the public school, Granny Oni had offered to tutor you along with Itto. As time went on, you and Itto both continued to grow. Granny Oni was right, his horns definitely did come in. And boy was he excited when he realized they were long enough to smack into yours. Being friends with Itto helped you realize that maybe a little violence is okay sometimes, so you were quick to hit him back with your horns. And he hit you back with his. And it went on until, uh oh, your horns were hooked together! It was fun, especially with the vast height difference, to try to be coordinated enough to crabwalk back to Granny Oni’s house for help. You guys would continue to fight with your horns, and you guys would continue to get them stuck on each other.

Years pass, and you and Itto remain friends, and you two find people a bit more tolerant to hybrids and end up making more friends.

“Kuki, I need your advice-”

“Archons, either stay in or stay out! I can’t handle you pacing in and out of the room like this!”

“But Kuuuki!” Itto whined, “I want my dear deer’s birthday to be perfect!”

“Okay, and? I’m sure they’ll be fine with anything that shows we remembered their birthday.”

“But that’s not enough! I wanted them to be WOWED! I want them to feel APPRECIATED!”

Kuki rolled her eyes. It’s not that she was irritated with Itto himself, oh no.

She was irritated that you two have been in love with each other for YEARS, and yet you two are the only ones that don’t know. Everyday, tailing after you, trying to make you laugh, going look how strong I am! before he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a potato sack, causing you both to shriek in laughter. Or every time you two have a hornfight and end up getting stuck, you always desperately look away, too embarrassed from being too close, while he stares at you awestruck, face coated red, loving how close you two are...

You two make Kuki sick.

“And I can’t COOK for her cuz she’s a freaking HERBIVORE and I don’t know how to not eat meat!”

“Itto, listen to me. I am going to teach you how to make Universal Peace. They will like it because yada yada noble kirin blood.”

“REALLY?! Oh, thanks man, you have no idea-“

“BUT. You are going to tell them about your stupid gross crush.” Itto’s face immediately lit up.

“Pfft, wha-wha-what? I have, like, no idea what you’re…talking…about, hehe.” He stammered out. Seeing the unimpressed look in Kuki’s eyes, he sighed.

“Okay…you’re right. But that’s because the great Arataki Itto never yields to fear!”

But back to you, it was your birthday! You always got excited for your birthday. Every year your mother would make you a string of flower to wrap around your horns. Now that you were a grown ass adult, you still wrapped strings of flowers on your horns. It looked nice, and it made you nostalgic. You should write your mother a letter soon.

You carefully brushed at your tail, scowling at a patchy spot near the tip. Some kid thought it would be funny to stick a wad of gum into you beautiful tail! The nerve of some people!

You looked in the mirror again and stared at your horns. They were looking a bit dull, perhaps you should take the flowers off and polish them? You thought about Itto’s sharp red horns. They were always so effortlessly shiny, you don’t think he’s ever even polished them once…

Your faced flushed thinking about Itto. Ooh, you were looking forward to seeing him that day! You always looked forward to spending time with him. Sure, you spent a lot of time together, but you could never get enough of your friend!

Your friend….

You tugged the flowers off your horns. Back when you were kids, you were so happy to have you first friend, so, so happy. You pick up your buffing stone to smooth of the bumps on your horns. Nowadays, though, the word “friend” has left a sour taste in your mouth. Only for him, though! You had no problem calling Kuki a friend, or even a fellow hybrid like Gorou… after buffing your horns, you carefully apply oil to them. You knew what the feeling was, but you weren’t going to accept it. You were grateful enough to just have friends, to have more than one friend…

You weren’t normal. You would never be able to have normal relationships. You’ve already got more than you ever would’ve thought, why would you be selfish and ask for more? You look in the mirror, and all you see is a monster-

There’s a knock on your door.

“Yeah?” Your voice cracked. You didn’t realize that you had gotten so upset. Before you could wipe your tears away, Itto was already in your doorway.

“Hey, happy birthday! I made you this thingy called Universal Peace, Kuku and I figured since you’re from Liyue-“ He stopped when he heard you sniffling.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cooed. “What’s got you so upset that you’re crying on your birthday?”

“I’m an unlovable monster…” you croaked out.

“What?!” he replied in shock.

“I’ve got these weird horns…”

“I have weird horns.”

“Yours are cool and sharp and awesome,” you pouted, “and you don’t have a weird tail like me!”

“I like you tail. I think it’s cool!”

“Yeah, but…I’m a monster…”

“I’m a monster! Even worse, I’m a demon! Listen, dude, lots of people like you…and love you!”

You snort. “I don’t think anyone besides my mom loves me.”

“I love you.”

The world stops spinning. You swear you feel every single hair on your body stand on end.

“…what?”

“What I MEAN, is…” Itto’s face is rapidly getting darker. “Iiis, uhh, I…Like you. Like, like-like you, you know? I luh-love you.”

Your world feels so light right now…it doesn’t even feel like you’re awake. You pinch yourself and decide your are, in fact, in real life.

“You… love me? Since when?!”

“Since always! When I first saw that little deer kid with the cool horns, I…I don’t know! Look!”

He suddenly grabs you by the shoulders and gets face-to-face with you.

“L-Looking!” You stammer out.

“No, look, like…” A moment passes where neither of you say anything. Then, without warning, he places the quickest, smallest kiss on your cheek before immediately standing up and turning around.

Your face feels like it’s on fire. Even from behind you can tell how red his ears are.

“Itto, I-“

“No, I’M sorry! I should’ve just let you vent, I shouldnta-“

“Itto, look-“

“-and I should’ve asked, shit, I didn’t mean to just KISS you-“

“ITTO! Like, look!”

He turned back around, his whole face almost as red as his horns.

You stand on you tiptoes, cupping his face in your hands. His eyes widen in shock but before he can say anything, you plant a kiss on his lips.

When you stand back down, you’re trembling. Itto delicately holds on to your elbow.

“Oh, um, uh, wow.” He mumbles.

“Yeah…” you agreed, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey, so, do you wanna start going out?”

It’s too much, You bury your head in his face, not bothering to be wary of your horns.

“Yamf.” You mumble into his shirt.

“’s that a yeah…?”

You nod. He wraps his arms around you and you can feel him grin against the top of your head. “We’re dating now!” He laughs out. You’re still terribly embarrassed, but you let yourself smile.

“We’re dating now!” He shouts out, picking you up and spinning with you.

“Iffo!” You yell into his shirt. “ITTO!”

“Ahahaha! Take THAT, Kuki!” He plops down, still holding you, onto your couch.

Which lets out a sad, sad sqush noise.

…

“I forgot I put the Universal Peace on the couch.”

an: oh my GOD this is not proofread and its literally 6am...i'm going to read this when i wake up and I know it's going to be awful

#itto x reader #arataki itto x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin itto #plsdontbebadplsdontbebad #gender neutral reader #itto x gender neutral reader

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casspurrjoybell-29 · 5 months

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Forging Ties - Chapter 2 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Duran didn't actually go to the beach because there were way too many people there already.

Instead, he found an old, barely visible road and followed it up through the trees.

Maybe he should have been worried about getting lost but it was easy enough to find somewhere he could see The Spire from so he wasn't too worried.

Also, he had a swarm of pixies stalking him.

They seemed fascinated by his hair, constantly flying around his face and tugging at clumps of it.

If it wasn't going to get him laid, he was cutting it off.

Duran found a small creek that flowed down towards the ocean and sat down on a big rock that rested along its bank.

He really shouldn't mope about not being able to do exactly what he wanted.

It was silly to be sad when he'd grown up expecting to be nothing but a slave and spent the last year of his life sitting alone in a room, waiting for the next time his master felt like using him.

Just being able to sit and listen to the burble of this creek should have been enough.

Being with Danya and Fanner, being free, those things should have been enough.

Maybe he was just broken inside, cursed to seek until he found something he couldn't have so that he'd have something to be sad about.

Or perhaps he was just in the mood to wallow in self pity.

He didn't think he was a particularly miserable person by nature.

He'd found happiness in worse situations than this.

Duran watched as a brown and grey wolf ran up to the creek some distance from where he was sitting and drank from the water.

It was odd how quickly he'd become comfortable seeing such massive beasts roaming around.

It should have been scary but at this point it just wasn't.

The wolf had noticed Duran, and it headed up the creek bank towards him.

It was Slone, Duran realised now that he was closer.

The hairless section of scarring across his shoulder gave it away.

Once he reached Duran, Slone shifted.

He did it far more quickly and fluidly than Yore.

"Hey," Slone said as he, completely naked, waded into the shallow creek and sat down in the middle of the clear, flowing water.

"Hello," Duran said.

"Did someone send you to find me?"

"Nah, I was just wandering," Slone said. "Saw you and thought I'd wander here and see what you were up to."

"Nothing too interesting, I'm afraid."

"Yeah?" Slone asked.

"Shame. I don't come out to The Spire too often but it's a cool place. Thought maybe you'd be enjoying it."

"I went to the top. That was nice."

"Oh yeah?" Slone said. "Maybe I should head up before I go. It's been a while."

"Where are you going?"

Slone shrugged and splashed water up over his chest.

"I'm a wanderer. I travel around and I see what I see. If I tried to go somewhere, I'd probably just get distracted on the way and never make it."

"I wish I could go with you. Wandering sounds nice. I guess you probably wouldn't want me to even if you could keep me balanced, though. You're a werewolf. I'd slow you down."

"It's not always such a bad thing to be slowed down," Slone said. "You miss a lot when you go fast but it ain't always easy to go slow just for the sake of it."

"You'd really take me with you if you could? You're not just saying that because you know you won't have to?"

"Nah," Slone said, water running down his body as he stood up and walked over to where Duran was sitting.

He sat down on the pebbly bank of the creek next to the rock Duran was sitting on.

"Lying makes things too complicated. I say what I mean."

Their heads were at the same level now and Slone was hot and naked.

Duran grabbed a fistful of his scruffy hair, leant in and pressed their lips together.

Slone didn't pull away but he also didn't kiss back.

After a moment, Duran let go of him and sat back.

Slone offered him a lopsided smile.

"Sorry. Can't say I'm into men."

"I can look enough like a woman from the right angle."

"Hmm, prob'ly," Slone said. "But you don't smell like one. Not gonna work, I'm afraid."

Duran licked his lips and looked away.

"Sorry. I shouldn't have done that."

"Nah, it's fine."

Slone stretched his arms out in front of himself.

"You ever see us do our wolf greetings when someone's been away for a bit? If I'll shove my tongue in my own brother's mouth, I ain't gonna be too flustered by a little peck on the lips."

"I assumed being in wolf form made things like that a little different."

"Sorta does and sorta doesn't. Wouldn't do that on two legs because our senses work different. Wouldn't make sense to. That's all. Anyway, why you kissing up on me? Thought you were after humans for that."

"It's not all about energy. Why does nobody question it when Hamish is just horny but when I am, everyone wants to delve into my motives and intentions?"

"You don't think it's more complicated for you?"

Duran lifted his legs up and folded his arms over his knees.

"I don't want it to be. I want to be able to just enjoy the things I know I enjoy about life, to rediscover the good in sex but I feel like everyone keeps pushing me back towards my trauma. Everyone thinks that those dark parts are what it has to be about for me first and foremost. That everything I do and everything I want must spring forth from that and therefore needs to be coddled and danced around."

"Yeah?"

Duran let out a long sigh.

"I'm not saying I'm not fucked up but that's mine to deal with in my own ways and in my own time. I don't want or need anyone else to worry about it. I love Danya and Fanner, I like a lot of the people I've met here, but part of me wants to just go. To find people to be around who don't know who or what I am or what I've been through."

"You regretting letting Kit share that thing?"

"No. Things were always going to be like this. People having more or less information doesn't change anything. They were always going to think they understood when they don't."

"Ah, well, if it helps any, I know I don't understand shit."

"Good. Don't try to change that and we'll get on great."

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drabblecat · 3 years

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Yandere!Heisenberg x F!Reader Part 1

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Kidnapping, yandere behavior

This is part one and it is fairly tame, but next chapter and the rest (however many that is) will be very NSFW for sure! Just an idea that I had and needed to set the scene first.

(requests open)

Running a rag across the bar, you cleaned the remaining spills of the night. The pub’s radio crackling in the background as you finished your shift. You couldn’t be too picky after moving to the small town, and jobs were hard to find. There of course were openings as maids and other help in the castle nearby, but that thing gave you the creeps. Not to mention living where you work would be a questionable way to create a work/life balance. Hanging up your apron and placing it on the hook you made your way to the door.

“Have a nice night newbie!” The pub owner’s burly voice called to you from the back, finishing up the dishes from the last of the dinner rush. He was a nice man, no wife or kids, but to be honest was a caring enough person to be a father figure. Like hell you’d ever admit that. Besides the town drunks you had yet to meet a truly miserable person here. The people that did cause a scene were often thrown out and you never happened to run into them again. Perhaps in such a small town everyone knows everyone, and reputation has to be maintained.

Checking your watch, it was almost one in the morning. Nothing is open right now, but hopefully you could pick up fresh bread tomorrow morning. You told the baker about always having a hard time shopping and they were nice enough to allow you to ask them to set your order aside. Snow boots padded softly on the snowy stone path, just the light of nearby houses lighting the way. People said it was dangerous to walk around at night alone, but you never came to any harm. You carried a knife hidden in an inner pocket of your coat, but you only even brought that with you being worried about any of the wildlife you might encounter. The reason everyone was so scared to walk alone at night was supposedly to horrible howls they all heard. All things considered that was reasonable. The village was near large patches of wilderness for hunting, and having wolfs, bears, and other creatures is normal. You wouldn’t call any of those animals ‘horrendous beasts’, but drunks at the bar trying to scare you might.

Reaching your door finally you pulled the large metal key out of your pocket. As nice as the old style door looked, the key was a pain in the ass to carry around constantly. Your house wasn’t much, but it fit your needs. First thing you did was place your watch and keys in the bowl by the entryway. It was always easier to follow that habit than to be constantly looking for where you put it. Deciding that a bath was just the right thing for your aching feet, you went to run the bath. After filling the clawfoot tub just enough and topping it all off with a lavender bath bomb, you put your towel on the rack. As you gently lowered yourself down, the warmth of the water melted away your soreness. It was moments like this you loved, nothing to do but let yourself get lost in thought. You worked nights mostly, so there was no need to set an early alarm.

A good amount of time had passed when you heard a small bang coming from the kitchen. Alarmed you got out of the bath, quickly patted yourself off, and wrapped a towel around yourself. You didn’t see anything right away, but after looking closer your watch was now on the floor. Picking it up you looked it over, the glass was fine, but the leather strap had a few scratches near the end. Must have been those damn mice! They have been such a problem lately, it must have been those little thieves for sure. Last week it was your homemade cookies, a few days ago they had completely shredded a thank you card one of the locals had given you. Honestly, if you weren’t on such a tight budget as it was you’d consider getting the biggest cat you can possibly adopt.

A shudder ran down your dripping wet body as a gust of cool night air came through to interrupt your internal rant. Looking to the shutters they were once again open and flapping in the wind. You would blame their inability to latch on the mice too, but you knew it was just your reluctance to call a handy man and actually get it fixed. Realizing you were in nothing but a towel, you made haste to shut them, if the neighbors were going to get to see anything they should at least pay.

“Go off to a quaint village they said. It’ll be a relaxing life, they said…” grumbling you headed towards the bedroom to finally get some sleep. Slipping on a nightgown that went down just to your knees and tucking yourself into bed, you drifted slowly off to sleep. A distant howl barely audible echoed in the night.

You awoke with a start, eyes slamming open as screams filled the air. You got out of bed as quick as you could. Stumbling into the kitchen and slipping on your boots and coat before opening the door to see what the hell was going on. Immediately you were met with the sight of your neighbor’s neck being torn by a horrendous zombie-werewolf type creature that only barely resembled a man. You were told briefly of the place to go should some emergency happen. Without having time to think about it, your feet were already running towards the supposed safe spot. Bodies littered the street as you ran, the baker, the old woman… you stopped in your tracks. Although torn he was still recognizable, it was your boss, the one man who was kind enough to give you a position so you could get your new life started. Judging by his uniform he hadn’t even made it home after closing.

Before even coming to terms with this revelation, your leg was tugged out from under you. Falling onto the stone path you instinctively grabbed the knife stashed in your coat and stabbed the creature directly in its eyes several times. The creature stood, grabbing its face as it became blinded. Taking the opportunity, you booked it out of there. The house was now in your line of sight, the main gates wide open. With a sudden gust the gates slammed shut, a chain like a snake wrapped its way around sealing it shut. Still, you had to try, pulling on the gates with all your might but to no avail. Tears ran down your face as you fell to your knees. Not even the freezing snow on your bare skin could snap you out of this nightmare.

“Too bad, you almost made it! But don’t worry hun, I’ll take care of you now.” A deep voice came from above you. Slowly you tilted your head and were met with one of the town lords you had heard about, Heisenberg. Just as you had registered his face, the chain on the fence shot out and wrapped around your neck. Desperately your hands flew to your neck, helplessly clawing at the metal snake until your vision went blurry and darkness enveloped you.

“Sleep tight sweetheart…”

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

Before opening your eyes, the smell of a garage hit your senses. Judging by what feel alone you could tell you were on a bed of some sort. Slowly you opened your eyes. It was a dimly lit bedroom, the bed you were on was more comparable to a cot and the sheets looked stained. Peering at your leg, you saw it was wrapped in bandages exactly where the beast had grabbed you, and a chain that connected your leg to a bed post.

“Well good morning sunshine! Sleep well? Quite the excitement you had last night huh?” the mattress shifted as the man sat down at the foot of the bed.

“Heisenberg?” Your voice was quite and unsure, still shaken from the memories of the night.

“So you have heard of me, great! And I certainly know you, known you for a while now.”

“What the hell…” you sat up quickly in bed and pushed yourself as far back as you could away from the man. Almost immediately the chain moved, pulling you down the bed. He towered over top of you, hand coming down next to your head. Chuckling he used his other hand to caress your cheek, rough thumb brushing across your lower lip.

“Don’t be trying to run like that, I know this is new and all but what’s the alternative? I send you back out there to get eaten alive? Don’t be foolish, I’m here to take care of you after all.” Looking into his glasses you saw your own face in their reflection, you knew that deep down this was only the beginning of the nightmare.

#re8 x reader #karl heisenberg #re8 smut #x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you #smut

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joel-millerr · 3 years

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Choices Are Made in an Instant

Chapter Six of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.1k

Summary: You and Mando help Ahsoka in battle. Then, when you get back to the Crest, he starts acting weird. You couldn't have been prepared for what happens next...

Warnings: SMUT, dom/sub mentions, mild choking, (maybe a bit of edging?) aftercare, graphic depictions of violence, a sprinkle of fluff. mando is possessive af during sexy time

---

“What’s the plan, again?” Mando asks you, not because he doesn’t know the plan, but because he wants to make sure you know the plan.

Scowling up at him as you sit on the floor of the Crest, Grogu slowly falling asleep in your lap, you roll your eyes when you see Mando put his hands on his hips like he’s annoyed with you.

“Seriously?”

His head tilts to the side, and then shifts his weight over to one leg. For someone who doesn’t like to talk about their feelings, he sure does wear his emotions on his sleeve. Mando’s body language is a dead giveaway as to what’s going on under that bucket of his.

“Fine. If it’ll make you happy.” You pick the kid up off the ground and hold him in your arm as you explain to Mando—for the third time, what’s going to happen.

“Ahsoka will storm the main gate and engage the guards. You and I are going to walk around the wall and find a way into the village without getting seen. The Magistrate—”

“Morgan Elsbeth.” Mando chimes in.

“Yeah, whatever.” Using your free hand to wave him off because who cares what her name is? “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted—Ahsoka needs some information from Elsbeth so she’s off limits.”

“Good. You remember.”

“You know—”

“Yes?” He probes.

Lips forming a thin line, and realizing he’s just trying to rile you up you shrug it off and bite your tongue, instead opting to put Grogu down inside Mando’s bunk. The Child looks up at you with his big eyes, babbling incoherently. You wiggle your finger in front of him, causing him to giggle excitedly.

“Are you sure he’ll be safe here, alone?” You ask Mando over your shoulder, continuing to play around the kid.

“There’s no one else out here but us, and I’m going to engage the ground security protocols once we leave.” He explains as he fiddles through his armory, gently placing his pulse rifle back on its hook, and reaching over to his jetpack and strapping it to his back. “Nothing will penetrate the Crest.”

It doesn’t do much to ease your anxiety but since Mando seems comfortable with this, then this must be the safest place for him to be. Air exhales through your slightly parted lips as you turn to the armory and grab a vibroblade from Mando’s stock, strapping it to your right thigh. As time ebbs on, the sound of the blood pounding in your ears becomes louder and louder, and you’re unable to stop the steady thumping of your heart against your ribcage. This feeling reminds you of spice running. The rush, the excitement, the worry of not knowing what could happen or if part of the plan could go wrong; it’s something you’ve always chased after.

The plan is almost foolproof, so you shouldn’t worry. Of course, the thought of something going wrong is always there in the back of your mind, but how often do you see a Jedi, a Mandalorian, and a smuggler working together? You’re almost certain this is the first time in the galaxy that this has happened, so how could you fail?

As you make your way to the ramp, you feel a rough leather glove grab hold of your wrist, and turns you around gingerly to face the Mandalorian.

“Are you sure about this?” He asks, tone low and husky, and it strokes that part inside of you that forces you to rub your thighs together.

No matter how much time you two can spend being around each other, the moment you’re standing only inches apart—you can’t stop your heart rate from picking up. Your mouth dries up like the sand dunes on Tatooine, and the only thing you can focus on is how fucking intoxicating this man is.

“You can stay here with him.”

His hand is still on your wrist, and you look down to where leather meets your skin. His thumb brushes small, gentle circles on your wrist; an otherwise small token of affection, but taking into consideration that Mando is willingly giving you such a gesture, it makes you heart do cartwheels.

“And miss all the action?” A smile stretches across your face, arching an eyebrow at him. “No way, Mando.”

“What if something goes wrong?”

“Then you’ll need all the help you can get.”

He whispers your name softly and drawls out exhale that cuts up through his vocoder, as if your name is his way of begging you to reconsider. The ‘T’ of his visor stays glaring at you, but it’s damn near impossible to sway you from doing something once you’ve set your mind on it, so no matter how he stares, it won’t make much of a difference. He knows this isn’t a battle he’ll win. Your free hand reaches out, fingertips brushing against his elbow, hoping your touch will help calm his apprehensiveness about you coming along.

“Mando, I’ll be fine. I know you like to worry, but I’ve been in plenty of worse situations and I’m still here.”

Making a noise deep in the back of his throat, he gives you a quick nod and lets go of your wrist. A groan threatens to escape through your lips at the sudden lack of touch, but you manage to keep it under control as he breezes passed you, hearing his boots hit the durasteel ground as he descends the side ramp of the Crest. Taking one last deep breath and looking at Mando’s cot where Grogu is resting, you walk over to the panel by the door, and whisper “We’ll be back soon, kid,” before pressing the button to close the door, watching it come down with a hum. You turn on your heel and march down the ship to meet Mando, who waits patiently for you to join him before using his vambrace to shut the ramp.

You tread towards the village in a comfortable silence. Nightfall is especially unnerving here. The air feels dirty, like dust and ash mixed together, trekking through large gusts of wind as it almost knocks you off your feet. The sky is a dark mossy green, glooming over you, almost like there’s an ominous presence watching the night unfold. Three clicks away from the wall is where you meet Ahsoka. She’s wearing a long robe that aides her in hiding within the shadows, the hood pulled over her montrals, cloaking them from being detected. Her lightsabers, not laser swords like you thought they were called, dangle off her waist. You eye them curiously, wondering how it must feel to wield one of them. The thought makes you chuckle. If you really wanted to know what it felt like to hold such a beautiful weapon in your hand, you just had to find someone to train you, and then you’d be privy to it. A problem for another time, though. Right now, you had more important matters to worry about.

Just as you reach the woodland edge, Ahsoka turns to you and Mando and once again repeats the Magistrate is not to be harmed.

“Save the prisoners,” She reiterates.

Offering her a nod and a smile of reassurance, her hand touches your forearm, squeezing it gently. Mando detaches his right pauldron—the one with his signet engraved and hands it to Ahsoka. It looks like a mudhorn signet. You’re reminded of what Grogu had shown you just a few days ago. Mando battling the ferocious beast, and the Child, watching him on the brink of death, feeling his need to save the Mandalorian.

“We’ll go around the perimeter,” He announces, shooting you a quick look that you acknowledge by dipping your head downwards. “Just make my death believable.”

The corners of Ahsoka’s lips curl upwards. “Don’t worry about that.”

You and Mando break off, choosing to go to her left. Being mindful of where you walk, and making sure not to rise any suspicions by making noise and accidentally stepping on a broken twig, your eyes shift constantly between the ground and the giant wall just a few metres in front of you. Given your experience with sneaking around, you’re basically a master at keeping to the shadows.

Once Mando’s content with the distance you’ve put between yourselves and Ahsoka, he scans the area of lifeforms with his helmet. Beckoning with his hand, he moves forward with you following closely behind him. You crouch over, making yourself seem as small as you head straight for the fortified village.

“We’re going to have to climb it.” He says, realizing the sound of his jetpack would be too loud and alert the guards.

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to sneak around,” You jest.

Mando lifts an arm towards the top of the rampart and a grappling line shoots out from his vambrace, flying right over the top of the duracrete wall and latching onto the parapet. Tugging the rope to make sure it’s got enough of a sturdy grip for both of you to scale, he hands you the wire to climb first. Blood pounding in your ears and your heart racing faster than the fathier races on Canto Bight, you take the line from Mando’s hand and pull on it hard enough until your body is leaning backwards.

Your left foot presses against the rampart, making sure to balance yourself properly before your other foot hits the wall, then you begin scaling it. Mounting it quickly, you make it to the top in just under a minute—you can’t help but be impressed with yourself.

Once you climb over the parapet, you crouch down immediately, head whipping to the left then to the right to make sure there aren’t any soldiers in sight. In the distance you hear cries of pain, whooshing, and a loud bang. Ahsoka must have engaged the guards by now.

Taking notice that the coast is clear, you beckon for Mando to join you, and he scales the duracrete wall, beating your time by just a couple of seconds. Show off.

The village is a good… maybe thirty or forty feet drop, and the thought makes you groan. Already you can feel the ache in your legs and knees, but better to get it over with. As you’re about to jump off the wall, Mando’s arm comes flying out across your torso.

“What the hell are you doing?” He whispers through gritted teeth.

Standing there somewhat dumbfounded, your eyebrows pull closely together. “I was going to jump?”

“And break your legs in the process?” He asks rhetorically. Then, without waiting for your answer, he coils the grappling line around his arm that you used to scale the rampart and drops it on the other side of the wall.

“Are you sure you’ve done this before?”

Your eyes dart over to Mando’s eye slit, narrowing them as you watch him climb down just as fast as he came up. When you hear him reach the ground and taking one last look around, you grab onto the line and head down into the village.

The fighting in the distance has stopped, you hope that means Ahsoka’s made it through the barricade of guards. Darting between alleys through the village, you can hear her voice echoing in the distance.

“Your bounty hunters failed.”

Making sure to keep your centre of gravity low as you continue to navigate through the huts, you follow Mando on his heels until you see Ahsoka in your sights. She’s standing just a few metres away from Elsbeth, who has her own platoon of armed soldiers behind her, holding the staff in her hand, alongside the gunslinger Lang.

“Tell me what I want to know.” Ahsoka says, voice calm and stern. “Where is your master?”

Elsbeth stays silent for a few seconds, scowling at Ahsoka, eyes burning into hers, rage all but spilling out of her words. “Kill her.”

Lang takes a step forward, hands gripping his gun fiercely as he says with amusement, “Love to.”

A blast of red shoots out from his gun, narrowly missing her as she jumps onto one of the roofs. Her lightsabers come to life, beams of white whirl around her as she blocks an onslaught of blaster fire. You want to help her, to take down just even one of the guards, and Mando seems to sense your urgency because he grips onto your arm as a warning. You can’t blow your cover, not yet. The guards need to follow Ahsoka and leave the prisoners alone so you and him can free them.

The Magistrate instructs Lang to take her battle droids with her before turning on her heel and stalking back towards her fortress. She orders the remaining two guards by her side to execute the prisoners. Shrieks and cries fill the air as the prisoners start begging for their lives, and then your feet move before your brain takes notice, running straight for the guards before Mando can pull you back into the shadows.

You come up behind the soldiers, just as one aims their gun to one of the men strung up. Your hand flies to your blaster, unholstering it and shooting him right between the shoulder blades. He cries and falls to the ground with a loud thud. The remaining guard pivots towards you, aiming his own rifle at you but is shot down by Mando before he can pull the trigger.

“You were supposed to wait for my signal,” He hisses through the helmet as he appears from behind one of the houses to join you.

“You were taking too damn long.”

“And why the hell is the safety on your blaster not on?”

Narrowing your eyebrows, your mouth opens to answer but you have trouble finding the words. “Uh—is that reallyimportant right now?”

He doesn’t answer, but sighs somewhat angrily. Okay…

In the corner of your vision, you see the elderly man from yesterday emerge from one of the huts. Out of reflex, you catch Mando pointing his blaster at him. The man’s palms fly up in defense and freezes. They exchange a series of glances, ending with Mando placing his blaster back in his holster. They make their way to one of the prisoners, trying to gauge how to free him without hurting him or themselves.

The sounds of gunfire in the background catch your attention. Looking over to Mando and the elderly gentlemen, you really want to go out there and fight.

What if Ahsoka needs backup?

Surely, you should help her, right?

Hands fidgeting at your sides, your body racing on adrenaline and the urge to make these soldiers pay for what they’ve done, you take one last glance over to Mando who instinctively looks back at you. By his body language, you know he understands what you want because he squares his shoulders and takes a tentative step towards you. Shaking his head, slowly but nothing shy of authoritative, basically warning you not to go after her. Giving him a shrug and lips forming a tight line, you whip your body towards the sounds of gun fire and disappear into the shadows.

“Get back here!” Mando’s voice come from the commlink on your wrist as you continue zig zagging through the city, following the sound of gunfire. Ignoring him, you turn the volume down on your commlink until it’s fully muted, as to not draw any attention to yourself. Your body is running entirely on the electricity pumping through your bloodstream right now. Senses heightened to a degree you’ve never experienced before. The wind brushing against your hot cheeks, hearing the thumping of your heart in your ears, you feel everything so much stronger, now. Maybe it’s because you’ve never being in such a gritty battle like this, but it’s so much more intense than any spice run you’ve ever done.

Navigating through the huts and keeping yourself hunched over, you look out for any potential threats, coming up on dead-end after dead-end. You’re running out of time, and need to find Ahsoka now.

A hand touches down on your shoulder, causing you to gasp a little too loudly. Reaching over your chest and gripping the hand tightly, you twist your body around to face them while pulling downwards on their arm, vibroblade flying into your free hand. Relief overcomes you when you see it’s Ahsoka.

“Felt like you were missing out?”

You give her a smile, tucking the blade back into its strap on your thigh, hand clutching your chest as you try to come down from the sudden alarm. “Little bit.”

The moment is short lived when a blast of red gunfire flies by the back of your head, missing you by only inches. Ahsoka wraps her arm around your back, pushing you behind her as her lightsabers come alight once again, using them to dodge and ricochet incoming fire. As she continues to block blasts, a guard emerges from behind you, giving you only a second of time for your blaster to come out of its holster and into your hand, shooting them down with two blasts. Just as his body hits the ground, a second soldier comes right for you from the left. Your free hand shoots up close to your body, palm facing him. Taking a step forward, your arm straightens out and the power of it sends the guard flying backwards, hearing his skull hit the ground with an echoing crack.

You don’t have time to process it, to think about the fact that you’ve just heard that man’s skull split because you propelled him so aggressively into the ground. Turning your body back towards Ahsoka, she continues to fight off blasts, one of them knocking a lightsaber out of her hand and sending it flying through the air, landing just a couple feet behind you. Without even taking a second to think about it, you dash for the lightsaber, gripping it with your hand just as you fall over onto your stomach. A black gloved hand grabs hold of your shoulder, flipping you onto your back. The man crouches down and presses his body into yours, each leg on either side of your body, pinning you to the ground. You wrestle for a few seconds, dodging some punches but ultimately taking a couple hits to your stomach. All of a sudden, a bright white light nearly blinds you—the lightsaber buzzes to life, and then you’re pushing it in your hand through the man’s chest, screaming as it impales him. The sound of flesh sizzling against the lightsaber makes your skin crawl, never before hearing such a foul noise. Maker, even the smell is agonizing. Something you never thought you’d ever experience. You’ve cauterized wounds before, but that was just kissing the skin. This? Fuck, this went through his body, burning his skin, bones, and whatever organs were in the saber’s way. Ego and pride aside, it makes you nauseous. Pushing his limp body off yours and rising to your feet, the smell still lingering in your nostrils, you attempt to shake it out of your mind and wrench your eyes shut for a moment. This isn’t the time to dwell on things.

Feeling the lightsaber in your hand, something in you changes. Everything stills for a moment. All of the insecurities you had about yourself, the feeling of having lost your way, not knowing which path to choose, it all comes together. The answer is around your fingertips, its power clearing your mind of the questions you so desperately wanted the answers to. For the first time in your entire life, you feel at peace, like you finally found your place in the galaxy.

A new power courses through your veins, enabling you to take down enemy after enemy with Ahsoka’s lightsaber. As you battle in between the huts, your eyes meet hers for a brief moment, and it’s almost like she understands how you’re feeling. After cutting down the last guard, your chest is heaving, body shaking as it burns off the adrenaline that was exuding from your body just seconds ago. You head over to where Ahsoka is standing, a pile of bodies surrounding her. Mindful not to step on anyone, you tiptoe around them and hand her her lightsaber.

“And?” She asks, head cocked to the side.

You can’t even find the words. How can you even describe such a feeling? All your anxieties solved in just one moment. Jaw nearly dropping to the floor, you want to say something but the only thing coming from your mouth is a laugh. Ahsoka smiles back, but it quickly disappears, leaving you to look into her eyes, she seems…sad? You want to ask her what’s wrong, but you table it for another time.

As you both make your way back to the main street of the village, she treks along the rampart of Elsbeth’s fortress. Once you clock the second gate ahead of you, Ahsoka leaps onto to the top of the wall, leaving you to meet Mando on the main road. Keeping to the shadows of the little houses around you, you see him standing just a few feet shy of the wall, hand hovering over the blaster strapped to his thigh. Towards the end of the cobblestone street is Lang, hands on his rifle.

No one speaks for a moment; Lang’s eyes shift between Mando and Ahsoka who stands at the top of the rampart. Your body is still shielded in the shadows, gauging Lang’s body language; waiting for the right moment to show yourself. Finally, Ahsoka turns her body and jumps into the Magistrate’s home, leaving you, Mando, and Lang behind.

“So, you threw in with the Jedi.”

Taking a quick look around, and noticing you to his right, he answers Lang, “Looks that way.”

Maker, you’ll never get tired of looking at him. Broad shoulders pushed back so his all-encompassing chest is on full display, practically toying with Lang because he knows they’ve lost, it’s not only intoxicating how much he turns you on, but it’s quite frankly obscene how your pussy gushes at the sight of him. His ability to stay calm, even when he’s seething with anger. It’s easy to get wrapped up in the heat of the moment, but watching Mando in his element, full of gusto and brawn…It’s quite a shock that some people choose to fight a Mandalorian rather than save themselves the trouble and simply surrender.

Sounds of beskar clashing with lightsabers ricochet through the air. Cries from both women pierce your ears. You want to see Ahsoka fight, curious to see how a Jedi battles with a formidable opponent, but you’re too transfixed on Mando right now to tear your eyes away even if for a moment.

“Who do you think’s gonna win?”

Mando doesn’t answer, just stays ever still, his cape flapping in the wind behind him. Lang takes a tentative step forward, and then another, and then another. “Could be your side…” He taunts. “Could be my side.”

He’s getting too close for comfort; you think to yourself. Stepping out from behind one of the homes, you make sure Lang sees you. Squaring your shoulders, you walk over to Mando cautiously, keeping eye contact with Lang the entire time. Once you’re by his side, your arms rest by your thighs, one hand gripping on your blaster.

“Ah, there you are. I was beginning to think that you were left behind… or dead,” The last word drips from his tongue like venom.

Clamping down hard on your jaw to keep yourself from snapping back, your free hand balls into a fist, white knuckling so aggressively, you’re digging half-moons into your skin.

He takes one more step forward.

“I got no quarrel with you two.”

Another step.

“That’s far enough,” Mando warns, his hand coming up to stop Lang in his tracks.

The Magistrate’s cries blend in with Ahsoka’s. The silence between resonances of weapons colliding become more and more frequent. The fight must be nearing its end.

“You know, we’re a lot more alike than you think.”

What in the kriffing hell is this man talking about? To think that you or Mando could ever be similar to someone like Langmakes you scoff, an empty laugh expelling from the back of your throat.

“All of us, willing to lay out lives for the right cause.” He says orotundly then pauses for a moment, listening to the two women fighting on the other side of the rampart. “Which this is not.”

He can’t honestly think either of you believe him, right?

All of a sudden, you hear the beskar staff hit the ground, bouncing a few times before everything becomes jarringly quiet. Tilting your head slowly in Mando’s direction, his visor keeps to Lang.

“Looks like you guys win.”

Holding out his gun in front of him, he shows you the weapon and ever so slowly places it down on the ground, motioning his surrender. Mando’s hand flexes over the blaster, gauging Lang’s next move. Without skipping a beat, Lang’s hand flies to a blaster at the back of his waist, but before he can even take it out of its holster, Mando’s own gun flies into his hand and shoots him down.

“Did you have your safety on before you shot him down?” You ask sarcastically, darting an eyebrow at him as holsters his weapon.

“Is that really important right now?” He repeats, using that same mocking tone that drives you fucking crazy.

Eyebrows pulling together in a frown and rolling your eyes, you reply, “I hate you,” while also trying to hide the dumbass smile that’s sneaking up on your lips.

The elderly gentlemen, who has apparently been watching you this entire time, emerges from his home. One by one, the villagers come out, stunned that they’re finally free. They cheer and holler, walking over to you both to give their thanks. Seeing the instant smiles on their faces fills you with warmth and pride. All the pain, all the cruelty they were forced to endure is gone. They can live the rest of their lives free of tyranny.

“WATCH OUT!” Someone cries. In a nanosecond, panic sets in, whipping your head in every direction trying to find the threat. Looking at the roofs, there’s the faint silhouette of a battle droid, crawling on one of the homes, its gun aimed right at Mando.

“Mando!” You shout. The droid’s weapon then switches to you, a red beam of light flies from his gun, hitting you right in the shoulder. The force of the hit sends your body flying backwards, landing hard on your back, head smacking the ground hard enough to make you dizzy.

The pain in your shoulder is fucking intense, the smell of sizzling clothes and burnt skin quite literally burning into your nostrils. Hand flying to your shoulder and pressing down on the wound to ease the bleeding and hopefully the pain, you realize your shoulder has been taking quite the hit lately. First the bruise, now a fucking gash.

Mando rushes to your side, holding the back of your head with one hand as he eases you to sit upright.

“Are you okay?” Baritone pulling rough through the helmet, panic sits at the back of his throat. The hand cradling the back of your head travels down to your lower back, the other reaching for your hand that’s keeping pressure on the place where the droid hit you.

Unable to answer, you groan low in your throat and gesture that you’ll be fine with a simple nod of the head. When you finally look over to Mando through hooded lids, the corners of your lips curl upwards in an attempt to prove to him that you’re fine. Folding your legs at the knees and using his forearm to pull you to your feet, he helps you stand up, keeping his hand on the small of your back the entire time.

“Kriff, that hurt.” You groan through jagged breaths. When your hand finally moves away from the injury on your shoulder, you peek down to see just how badly you were hit.

Thankfully, it’s actually not that bad. There is a gash where the blast connected with skin, but the bleeding has stopped significantly, although your tunic and hand are drenched with blood. You could probably cauterize it right away to close up the wound and then put some bacta on it once you get back to the Crest.

Mando’s still holding you. It’s like he’s too scared to let you go, like he needs to protect you and the only way he can think of doing it is to keep holding you. In any other moment, you’d be absolutely loving this, but right now? His body heat mixed with the fervor and throbbing from the gash near your clavicle is making you burn up. It’s when you finally take a step forward that his arm falls back to his side, fist balling up like he’s fighting the urge to keep you in his reach.

“The droid dead?” You manage to say through winces of pain, hunching over.

“Yeah.” He says breathlessly.

“Okay, good.”

As more and more villagers approach you both, they continue to give you their appreciation and continuously asking if there’s anything they can do to thank you. An elderly woman even retreats back to her home and comes out just a few minutes later with a medpac for your gash. Initially, you reject her kind offer, insisting that you can wait till you’re back on the ship for your wound to be taken care of, but after she continue to argue that you should accept a bit of help, you take it graciously. They seat you down on one of the cobblestoned steps, and begin wiping away at the dried blood, trying to be mindful not to touch the actual wound.

“We can’t thank you enough,” She says kindly.

“You’re—ah shit—” You try to thank her, but despite her best efforts, you’re still in quite a tremendous amount of pain. “Sorry. It’s our pleasure, really.”

Once she’s done cleaning up the blood, you look down at your shoulder to see that the wound isn’t even as big as you initially thought. The blood splattered around your shoulder had made it seem much worse than it actually was. It’s barely the size of a Calamari Flan coin. It’ll definitely scar, but it’s nothing you can’t handle.

“Your husband doesn’t ever take his helmet off?” She asks, trying to keep you distracted as she begins to spray bacta on it.

Completely taken aback by the word ‘husband’, you blurt out a laugh. “Husband? Oh no, he’s not my husband. We’re just…” Your voice trails off because in truth, you have no idea what your relationship to Mando is anymore. It doesn’t seem appropriate to say that you two are friends because your relationship has certainly developed passed that, but to go so far as to say you’re…together doesn’t really seem to fit your situation either.

“Oh, my apologies.” Shaking her head like she’s embarrassed by assuming the nature of your relationship, you place a hand over hers and smile.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize.”

“I just assumed that because of the way he was so concerned for your health after getting shot by that droid…”

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you mull over how Mando held onto you for a lot longer than he needed to when you finally got to your feet. How he stood so close to you, even when you assured him you were okay. How he still looks over to you every couple of minutes while he talks to Ahsoka, like he needs to watch over you.

You watch as Ahsoka hands the staff over to Mando, who seems to hesitate to accept it at first, but is eventually persuaded to take it. He takes a moment to speak into his commlink, your wrist comes alive to the sound of his voice.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Will you be okay here, alone?”

You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, and you attempt to hide it by biting down on your lip. Bringing your wrist up to your lips, you press on the talking button on the comm, “Yes, I’ll be fine, Mando.”

As Mando disappears into the forest, Ahsoka makes her way over to you, just as the elder is finished addressing your wound. She’s put a bacta patch on your laceration now, its cooling sensation untensing your muscles and relaxing you almost instantly.

“Thank you.”

She grabs your hand with both of hers, giving you a gentle squeeze before letting you go, and hobbling back over to her home.

The city is full of life now, residents cheering and conversating. The children are running around, laughing and shouting with joy, even kicking a ball around the main cobblestoned road. It’s such a stark contrast from the city you and Mando had entered just two days ago.

Pushing yourself up to your feet, you pat the dust and dirt off your pants and face Ahsoka.

“How the shoulder?” She asks.

“I’ll be fine. It was barely a scratch.” You joke. She laughs in response. The first moment of genuine happiness you’ve seen on her face since you two met.

You both begin to take a leisure stroll through the village, noting how different the villagers seem now the Magistrate is gone. It’s such a fulfilling moment for you. For most of your life, you’ve behaved selfishly, usually only caring about yourself and doing whatever was in ever was in your own self-interest, and now you’ve just helped hundreds of people. You don’t want to put yourself on a pedestal, but if you’re being entirely transparent, you’re pretty proud of the change that’s happening to you. This? You could get used to this.

“If I did want to train…”

Ahsoka turns her head to face you once you address her. “Yes?”

“Like…How would I go about doing that?”

She stops walking, looking down at the ground. “You need to learn to control your emotions before you can even think of training. You’re pretty reckless.” Her voice stays kind, but she’s very much warning you of the difficult road ahead if you choose to go down this path. “I worry that your own attachment to the Mandalorian will be your undoing.”

You could argue with her, you could say that there is no such attachment, but if you were to be completely honest with yourself, you’d be lying if you said there wasn’t something there. It’s almost unbelievable to come to terms with the fact that you’ve developed some kind of connection with him, especially when you used to pride yourself on the idea that you had transformed into the type of person that did not become invested in someone else but Mando is different. He’s unlike anyone you’ve ever met.

He’s full of mystery. An enigma that you could learn about every day for the rest of your life and never even scratch the surface. Mando can be cold and callous in one moment, then tender and kind in the next. It quite literally makes your head spin. He can be so distant, and then all of a sudden, he can’t bear to be away from you. The inability to know what he’s thinking or what he wants just reels you in even more. You want to know everything about him, to feel like you’re a part of him, that you’re more than just someone passing through his life.

“Surely, the two can coexist?”

Ahsoka doesn’t respond right away. Her eyes leave you to look up at the sky, as if searching the clouds for help. “Asking that question just proves that you aren’t ready to train. Attachments clouds the ability to see reason. If you let your attachments control you, you can never act solely based on the good for all. You’ll always put your loved ones first, and that’s something the Jedi do not do.”

Your lips press into a thin line.

“If you want this, you have to realize what you’ll be giving up. What you’ll end up denying yourself later on.” Her voice is almost a whisper. “There will come a time when you’ll need to make a choice. To embrace the way of the Jedi, or walk away forever.”

“It’s just…” You begin shifting, pacing around as the words come to you. “Ahsoka, the darkness I feel inside me? It scares me, like I’m never actually in control of it.”

“The Dark Side is powerful. It’s something you’ll fight your entire life as a Jedi, but it’ll become easier to deal with as the training progresses.”

“When I held your lightsaber…” Voice trailing off, you let out a small chuckle. Her lips curl into a smile, she knows the feeling all too well.

“I know.”

As you both stand at the gates of the village, the newly appointed Magistrate—the old man that aided Mando in rescuing the hostages, approaches you both, smiling from ear to ear.

“Thank you again for saving the village.” His eyes are kind, the wrinkles on his forehead giving you an insight as to the many years of injustices and struggles he’s had to face, as well as the hope he’s held that his people would one day be free once again.

Dipping your head downward, he grabs your hand in his, shaking it twice before turning to Ahsoka. “The New Republic will be here soon for Ms. Elsbeth. If there’s anything else you’d like to question her about, now would be the time.”

“Mando should be here by now…” You remark, noticing that it’s been too long since he left.

Ahsoka nods in agreement. “Go. I’ll catch up with you.” She doesn’t wait for your response before following the Magistrate back into the city walls.

During the walk back to the Crest, you continue to go over everything Ahsoka’s told you over the last two days, weighting out your options. You’re not like Mando. You’re not a Mandalorian, nor are you a bounty hunter, so naturally you couldn’t expect to stick with Mando once you get all of this figured out. Going back to spice seems irresponsible, given that you know you were destined for something better. Moreover, now that you know why you’re different, it would see inappropriate to ignore that side of you and continue to live a life where your powers were wasted. Maybe this is something you could discuss with Mando. Maybe he’ll offer a different view that you hadn’t thought of before.

When you catch sight of the Crest, you suddenly feel a bit nervous, almost shy. You can hear the pounding of your heart in your ears as you near the ship, and clutch your chest with your hands when you see what’s happening inside the ship.

Mando’s sitting by his cot, one leg resting on the edge of the bed, Grogu seated on his thigh, and speaking gently to him. Even if you tried not to get sentimental about it, you’d never get tired of seeing how endearing Mando is with the Child. Every moment is more precious than the last, warming your heart and making you fall for the Mandalorian even more. You know he doesn’t need it, but you want to protect them both—to keep them both safe from anyone who would ever try to harm them, and on some level, you think Mando would do the same.

“Hey,” You announce as you get closer to the edge of the ramp, making your presence known so that he hopefully doesn’t think you spent the last minute gawking at them during their little intimate moment.

As you approach them, Mando rises to his feet and walks over to you, holding Grogu with both arms. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Much better. The bacta really helped,” You answer, keeping your voice low as to not wake him. Grogu’s eyes flutter open, head tilting to the side when he sees you.

“Hi, little guy.” Your index finger gently boops him on the nose, causing him to giggle in Mando’s arms. Although you don’t know for sure, you have an inclination that Mando’s watching you, and when you look up away from Grogu, sure enough the eye slit in his helmet is pointed at you.

“You’re like a father to him.”

Your turn your body around and see Ahsoka standing at the end of the ship, arms crossed against her chest. Mando heads down the ramp first, and you follow closely behind him.

“I cannot train him.” She says, a bit of disappointment hidden in her voice.

“We had a deal, and we held up our end.”

Letting out a deep breath, Ahsoka takes a step towards Mando and takes Grogu’s little hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across his tiny claws.

“There is one possibility.”

“We’re all ears,” You reply.

“Have you heard of the planet Tython?”

“No.” Mando answers dryly.

“It has a strong connection to the Force. There you will find the ancient ruins of a Temple atop one of the mountains. Place Grogu on the seeing stone and wait.”

“Wait for what?”

“For Grogu to choose his path. If he reaches out through the Force, there is a chance that a Jedi might sense him and come searching for him.” She looks down at the ground for a moment, before pulling her eyes away from the dirt to look at you. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

“Thank you.” He answers sincerely, then turns on his heel and heads back into the Crest.

You take a step towards Ahsoka and wrap your arms around her, giving her a gentle squeeze before pulling again. “I hope our paths cross again.”

“This will not only be a test for Grogu, but for you as well. You will need to make a choice.”

“I know…”

Her head dips down, offering you a farewell smile. “May the Force be with you.”

Heading back into the ship and closing the ramp, you hear the Crest’s thrusters come to life, finally feeling like you now have a purpose.

“Do we have enough fuel to make to it to Tython?”

“We’ll have enough to get there, but not enough to leave. We’ll have to make a stop beforehand to refuel.”

Mando punches in some coordinates and activates the hyperdrive. You look out through the transparisteel and watch the stars change from small specks in space to giant rays of light as you beam passed them, and then cockpit is surrounded by waves of baby blues similar to the waters on Naboo.

“Hey, where are we headed?” You ask once Mando rises from the pilot’s chair.

“You ever been to Coruscant?”

Fuck. “There’s nowhere else we can go?”

He walks over to where you’re still seated. At this angle, your eyeline is pointing right at…that. Trying to look anywhere but there, you opt to tilt your head at high as it can go so you can look at Mando in the ‘T’ of his visor. Maker, don’t you dare even peak down there.

“Is there a problem with going there?” He asks in jest, head tilting ever so slowly to the side. When you don’t immediately answer, he takes an excruciatingly slow step forward. He’s now almost touching your knees with his, making it even more difficult not to look down and catch sight of his—kriff, pull yourself together!

“No—” You squeak, your voice embarrassingly high. “I mean,” Clearing your throat in an effort for it to go back down to its normal octave. “No, that’s fine.”

Mando hums smugly in his helmet before disappearing through the cockpit door and descending down the ladder.

Uh… what the hell was that about? Was Mando acting…coy? No, surely you were misreading things. He’s not like that. He doesn’t joke around or act smug…right?

Sleep.

You should get some sleep.

Shifting around in your unbearably uncomfortable chair until you’re in a somewhat comfortable position—which is just you sitting upright in the chair with your leg crossed over the other, you fold your arms across your lap and close your eyes, hoping it won’t take long for you to fall asleep.

You can hear a light scuffle in the hull, and you try to ignore it, but now that you’re aware of the sound, it’s impossible for you to ignore it and try to get some sleep. All you can focus on is trying to ignore the sound which just makes the noise that much louder. Letting out a groan in annoyance, you move around even more in your seat hoping you’ll be able to find some kind of position that’s more comfortable, but to no avail.

Not only is the noise annoy the hell out of you, but you’re completely hung up on your interaction with Mando just a few moments ago. He usually doesn’t get that close to you unless he thinks you’ve been injured, but there he was, willingly getting closer and closer. Actually, it seemed like he was enjoying watching you squirm and get frazzled by how close he was to you.

Just when the sound stops, you hear heavy boots hit the metal rungs of the ladder. Great, he’s coming back.

You sense Mando reach the top of the ladder before you see him. Although, he doesn’t directly step into the cockpit. After a couple seconds of still not seeing him, you look over your shoulder to see where he might be, but you end up craning your neck to an uncomfortable amount and still no sight of him.

Fuck it. You jump to your feet and face the door to the cockpit, and see him standing like a goddamn statue. He’s still in full armour, but you definitely notice something different about him. His fists are balled up together at his sides, black eye slit pointed directly at you, and by the way his shoulders rise and fall, his breathing is uneven. As your eyes travel downwards from his helmet down to his feet, you can’t help but notice the bulge in his pants. Shit.

Your mouth instantly goes dry, your own heartrate picking up slowly, heating pooling in your belly. This isn’t the first time you’ve both been in this exact situation. It happened before on Sorgan, but somehow this is a hundred times more intense. Maybe it’s because of the rush from today, maybe it’s because you’ve tasted him before, but whatever was on your mind right before this moment is totally gone.

Right now, you can feel the blood pounding in your ears, you can feel the fucking heat radiating off Mando, your panties sticking to you like glue because of your slick, causing your pussy to fucking throb.

You want to say something snarky, but words are something you’re not even able to come up with, you’re so fucking spellbound by him that nothing in this galaxy could pull you away. He’s got you entirely wrapped around his leather finger and he hasn’t even said a word to you.

A broken moan forms at the back of Mando’s throat, coming out rough and distorted. It reminds you of his sobs the night his cock was wrapped around your lips. You want to run to him, feel his big arms pull you closer to him, but you need to know he wants this as badly as you do, so you wait. You wait for him to speak, to make the first move.

“I—” His voice is barely above a whisper, like he’s struggling to find the words.

“Tell me what you want, Mando.” You say breathlessly.

He takes a step towards you, and your breath catches in your throat. His own chest is heaving, his quick breaths cutting through his helmet. “Fuck.”

Realizing how hard this must be for him—admitting how he feels, you step closer to him. Now, you’re just arm’s length away. If one of you reached out, you’d touch the other and it’s becoming more difficult with every second that goes by not to jump into his arms, rip that helmet off his face and kiss every inch of his skin, but you won’t. You would never touch him in a way that would compromise his creed.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve thought about bending you over that control panel and fucking you until you begged me to stop?” He nearly growls. Voice so rough and low, you can’t stop the moan that escapes your lips.

Your pussy gushes in response. “Maker…”

He inches closer to you, taking his sweet, agonizing time as he continues to taunt you. “I’ve thought about it ever since I picked you up on Kijimi.”

Another inch.

“I thought about it in the alley with my hand touching your drenched, sweet cunt.”

Another inch.

“I thought about pulling you off my cock and pounding into you right against that wall.”

The heat coiling in your stomach is so fucking intense, you can feel it all over your body. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, jaw slacked so you can breathe in quick little bursts of air. He’s standing merely inches away from you, and you want to reach out and touch him. You want him inside you, but you’re frozen, unable to move. Unable to break free from the trance he’s put you in. All you can do is stand there helplessly as he continues to torture you with his confessions.

“But I was able to control myself.” He grits out, head tilting ever so slowly to the side.

“Mmm…” Is all you can say. Your mind is on fire, your body’s on fire. Everything’s fucking on fire.

“I don’t think I can control myself anymore.”

Only one word comes to mind now. Once you say it, your relationship to the Mandalorian will never be the same. It’ll definitely make it harder to choose between Mando and following the way of the Jedi but quite frankly, right now, you really don’t give a shit. You want this. You want Mando, and nothing is going to come between you and him. “Good.”

Finally, he closes the tiny gap between your bodies and wraps a big arm around the small of your back, spinning you around and pushing you up against the door to the cockpit. You yelp at his swiftness when you feel metal hit your back, but it’s still not fast enough.

You want more.

You need more.

“Mando…” You moan helplessly.

The shakiness of his breath, kriff, you really want to drop to your knees and make him feel so good. His hands try to touch every part of you. They settle on your waist and he flips you around. Your face nearly smacks into the door but you’re able to catch yourself before your cheek makes contact, hands bracing up against the wall. He grinds his hips into yours, and you feel the outline of his cock nuzzle against your backside.

“If I’m too rough…” He begins to say, but you cut him off before he can finish his sentence. “I’m not fragile, Mando. Do what you want with me.”

“Fuck,” He punches out, fist hitting the door in front of you. “Y-you can’t say things like that to me.”

“I want you to,” You make sure to drawl out your words, to make sure he really hears you, so that he knows you want this just as badly as he does.

The sound that comes next is almost animalistic. It’s somewhere between a cry and a snarl, but it’s the sweetest, most arousing sound you’ve ever heard. It’ll be something you replay over and over in your mind.

His hands travel down to your hips, grabbing onto the waistband of your pants and yanking them down in one swift motion. A brown leather glove flies to your throat, using his thumb and index finger to press on that sweet spot right under your jawline. You sob brokenly as he continues to apply more pressure on your neck, but still gentle enough for you to know he’ll never actually hurt you.

“M-Ma-n-ndo…” You manage to choke out.

Mando hums in the back of his throat, pressing his body into you even more. His cock is rock hard in his pants, and your hands leave the wall to fumble around behind you, trying to touch him. With his free hand, he grabs hold of both your wrists and holds them in place behind you. “Let me take care you, pretty girl.” He purrs, his baritone dangerously low.

When his hand leaves your throat, you whine at the sudden lack of pressure. Cupping your jaw, he drags his thumb across your bottom lip, your tongue darts out and tastes leather. Two fingers force themselves into your mouth, and Mando growls into your ear. “Bite.”

You obey like the good girl you are, biting and tugging on the glove until it comes right off his hand. He takes it from you and tosses it on the ground, revealing his beautifully tanned skin. It’s a little embarrassing how just the sight of his hand makes your pussy pulse, but everything about Mando draws you in. His smell, his stoic demeanor, even his fucking hand.

As his naked hand travels back down your body, fingertips barely touching your tunic, it’s driving you crazy. He’s taking his sweet ass time, reveling in the fact that he has you completely spell bound against him. You can’t move, you can’t shift under him and create more friction for yourself. No, you’re going at his pace, which is making you fucking dizzy.

When his hand reaches the edge of your underwear, sending shivers down straight to your throbbing cunt, your body is basically shaking from the lack and overwhelming amount of stimulation all at once. It’s too much, yet it’s nowhere near enough. A thumb begins to trace the skin around the waistband of your underwear, tantalizing you. Your broken sobs echo through the cockpit, and then in a second, his hand pushes passed the thin material and cups your sex.

“Fuck!” You cry out.

“Look how wet you are, and I’ve barely touched you,” He whispers.

Pushing your ass out and rubbing against his cock, you feel him twitch in his pants as you continue to tease him. The hand on your cunt disappears and wraps itself around your throat again, pressing into your flesh just enough for you to stop grinding your hips. When Mando speaks next, he growls through gritted teeth. “Do that again, and I’m stopping. Do you understand?”

Your throat is dangerously dry, and all you can do is moan in response.

“No, pretty girl. I need you to use your words. Do you understand?” He says again, this time in a much gentler tone, but without relinquishing any of his control over you.

“Yes,” You whisper breathlessly.

“Good girl,” He praises, and then his hand is back on your pussy. His fingers rub between your folds, sending shockwaves through your body as he starts collecting your slick on his calloused fingertips, and then he’s rubbing tight, quick circles around your clit. You mewl helplessly into the door, forehead pressed against door with such force, it’s actually starting to hurt, but in the best way possible. You wouldn’t dare move from the spot you’re in right now, not when Mando continues his agonizingly slow assault on your bud.

“I’m going to let go of your wrists now,” He begins to instruct, his head resting on your left shoulder. “And you’re going to be a good girl and keep them there, right?”

Your orgasm begins to build in your stomach, the rhythm on your clit never faltering. “Y-y-yes,” You answer, voice hoarse and barely audible.

Letting go of your wrists, you do as you were told and keep them behind you on the small of your back. You hear him fumble with his utility belt and pants. Panting and having to manually control your breathing because air just isn’t fucking coming into your lungs fast enough, your body starts to shake from the white-hot pleasure, causing your hands to clench violently. Mando thrusts his body against you once again, almost flattening you on the door, but now you feel his free cock pressing between your ass, feeling drops of precome graze your skin.

His hand drenched in your slick, you’re on the verge of coming. Breathing picking up even more, he must sense you’re close because his rhythm gets quicker and quicker, nearly pushing you over the edge.

“I’m g-gonna c-come, Mando.”

“Already? Hmm,” He hums proudly. A gloved hand comes up to your throat, using his thumb and index to choke you again. The pressure on your throat and cunt is making your head fucking spin. It’s too much all at once, your orgasm teetering right now. This is so much more intense than anything you’ve ever experienced.

“Come for me,” He commands gently in your ear.

Head lulling back, your knees are about to give out, but he never stops. He develops a pattern now, rubbing even tighter circles on your clit and then brushing his fingers through your soaking folds, then back to your bud.

“Fuck fuck, fuck, Mando!” You cry out as your orgasm rips through you, sending waves of ecstasy through your entire body. He doesn’t stop though. As you cry out, riding out your climax, he slams his gloved hand over your mouth, muffling your cries; still continuing his pace between your thighs. Practically convulsing from the overstimulation, your knees almost completely cave in, and you almost feel your body going limp, but Mando keeps you steady.

“Such a good fucking girl.” He praises.

You don’t even have time to come down from your climax before he’s thrusting a thick finger allll the way inside of you. Flexing it in and out of your pussy and body trembling, if you don’t grab onto something, you’re sure you’ll drop to the ground. Broken sobs stifled by leather, feeling the corners of your eyes getting wet with tears, your mind is going fucking blank. Maker, the Mandalorian is going to be the death of you.

Pushing a second finger into you, your eyes wrench shut. He eases them in and out of you at a deliciously slow rate, sometimes choosing to roll his fingers inside you before pulling out. One of your hands grabs onto his vambrace, using that as a means of staying upright because you’re hanging on by a thread right now. This is the most intense feeling you’ve ever experienced. No one has ever even come close to making you feel the way Mando is, and you’ll never be able to be with anyone else after this. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, but you’re literally coming apart under him. He pushes two gloved fingers inside your mouth and orders you to bite down again. You do as your told and his hand yanks free of the glove, tossing it to the ground like he did with the other glove.

His precome continues to paint your back and backside, and you start begging and pleading.

“Please, Mando…”

“Please what?” He asks, and then he’s fucking curling his fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars. You cry out again, feeling a second orgasm bubbling to the surface.

“Please, f-fuc-c-k me. Please, Mando I need you inside me.”

“Mmmm,” He drones deep in his throat. Flexing his fingers inside you once more time before pulling out, you feel suddenly empty.

Need more.

Using the slick he’s gathered on his hand, you look over your shoulder and can barely make out him smearing it all over his thick length. “Gonna make you feel so good, pretty girl. Gonna fill you up, and fuck that pretty cunt of yours until you can’t fucking walk.”

All you can do is mewl back, a broken sound that he barely notices. Mando grabs hold of the waistband of your underwear and pulls them down to your knees. One hand digging into your waist, the other holding his length, he starts to rub his cock between your sopping folds, gathering even more slick. Once he seems satisfied hearing your broken sobs, he angles himself to your entrance, and pushes just the tip into you.

Kriff, you’re not even sure if you’ll be able to take all of him.

He stills for a moment, and then he’s back to pushing himself against your cunt.

Fucking unbelievable.

Mando’s teasing you, getting off on the sweet torture he’s putting you through. Every time you think he’s about to fill you up, he pulls away and continues to toy with you, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, but then pulling away at the last second.

“Mando!” You whimper.

“Shhh…” He scolds, giving you gentle slap on your left buttcheek. “I want to take my time.”

He continues his gradual onslaught, and then finally, he’s lining up his cock with your pussy, and ever so slooowly eases an inch of himself in your entrance.

Maker, he’s huge. Even with just an inch inside of you, he fills you up, your walls clamping around him in an attempt to stop him from pulling away again. “Fuuck.” He drawls out through shuddered breaths. “You’re tight, pretty girl.”

You don’t answer because you can’t. Words are no longer a thing inside your mind. Just Mando.

“You’re mine.” He snarls, pushing another inch of himself inside you.

Something like a sob escapes your lips.

“No one else will ever get to touch you like this.”

Another painful inch. You can feel the veins around his girth pushing against your walls.

“I’ll kill anyone who comes close to you, do you understand me?” Mando doesn’t wait for an answer, just continues to push himself more and more into your pulsating cunt. He must be almost fully inside you now. It burns, almost painful. It’s uncomfortable but it’s so fucking good, it feels so fucking amazing to be filled up by the Mandalorian. A delicious pain you’ll be thinking about for days.

With both hands on your hips, he seems to lose control for a second because the next thing you know, he stills for a moment, his helmet dropping to rest in between your shoulders, and then he’s grinding even more of himself into you. Kriff, how fucking big is he?

When Mando finally fucking pounds into you, hitting that spot inside you that makes your vision go blank, you scream out, feeling completely stuffed to the brim. “Fuck!”

He’s so much bigger than you thought. Your walls flex around him, your pussy is on fucking fire right now, pain and pleasure mixed together to form a delicious cocktail, you’re drunk on this feeling. Mando widens his stance to steady himself, and pulls out just enough for only the tip of his head touching your walls and then slams into you so hard, your entire body flattens against the door, his cuirass digging into your back.

“Ah shit!” He swears breathlessly. Mando’s barely began fucking you, and a second orgasm is seconds away from unleashing electricity through your entire core.

“I can feel you clenching around my cock, sweet girl. Are you going to come again?” He taunts deliciously, pulling out once more and snapping back into you with such force, it blinds you momentarily. Bending your knees and using one his hands to push down on your back so you’re arched with your ass out—almost sitting back on his cock, he wraps a hand around your throat and begins pounding into you like an animal. The sound of skin slapping skin pierces through the cockpit, you can’t even make a sound. Your pussy clenches once again, climax nearing.

Two rough fingers find their way to your clit, and rub tight circles on your bud, the sounds of his length thrusting in and out of you are downright obscene.

“Be a good girl and come for me again,” He orders, voice so deliciously low in your ear. You last only a couple more seconds before a second orgasm rips right into you. White-hot pleasure tears through you, the ecstasy so intense, tears are streaming down your face at a constant rate. He doesn’t relent, just continues to plow into you over and over and over again.

“Fu-ck, you feel so fucking good. I’m g-gonna, shit, I’m gonna c-come.” He pants, his rhythm beginning to falter as he approaches his own climax. “Wh-ere should I…?”

“Inside…please.” You choke out.

“Kriff, are, a-are you sure?” He punches out, thrusting deeper into you between each word.

“Im—implant,” Is all you can manage to say, but it seems to be enough for Mando, because he uses the remaining strength he has to pound into you a few more times before his own orgasm hits him.

“F-fuck, pretty girl.” He grits out as his cock starts pumping his seed into your worn-out, swollen cunt. He sheathes himself one more time, reaching that sweet spot inside you before ever so slowly starting to ease out of you. Being the brat you are, using all the strength you can muster—which isn’t very much right now, you fiercely clench around his cock, causing Mando to cry out in the back of his throat.

“Maker, you don’t want me to leave, do you?” He says, shuddering but ending with a soft chuckle. “Well go on then, squeeze out every bit of come out of my cock like a good fucking girl.”

And so you do. You continue to squeeze down on his length, milking every single drop of his seed until you feel it trinkle down your legs. As soon as his hands leave your body, your knees cave in and you double over, nearly falling right on the cold metal floor, but Mando manages to wrap an arm around your waist before you do, holding you upright. Lifting you off your feet, he pulls you close to his chest, hooking his arms under your legs and around your back. Instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean your cheek against his cuirass. Beskar cools the heat on your face, and you swear you could fall asleep right now in his arms. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, nostrils filling up with the smell of sex and gunpowder, your eye flutter shut, feeling the exhaustion hit you all at once.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep yet.” Baritone low and gentle. “We need to get you cleaned up first.”

“Mmm,” You mumble in protest. “ ‘M gonna sleep here.”

“Hey,” He repeats, this time more commanding. “You’ll need to climb down the ladder, can you do that?”

Pouting and wanting to resist, but knowing Mando won’t take no for an answer, you give in. “Fine,” You answer, petulantly.

He puts you down gently, making sure that when your feet touch the ground, you’re able to stand up straight on your own. He pulls your underwear and pants back up from your knees. His come mixed with yours sticks to your underwear, and you hate to admit it, but he’s right. You definitely need to clean yourself up before falling asleep. Legs still buckling, Mando opens the cockpit doors and heads down the ladder first.

“Okay, come down.” He whispers kindly.

Kriff, your whole body is shaking. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to make it down those stairs without falling back. As you begin to descend the ladder, your grip on the rung loosens and you slip. Thankfully, Mando’s waiting at the bottom of the ladder and catches you in his arms before you could hurt yourself. Leaning on his pauldron is the only way you’re able to stand up, so you continue to lean into him as he guides you over to the fresher.

“Will you be able to clean yourself up?”

Looking up at the visor through hooded lids, you nod your head slowly. The possibility of you falling asleep in the fresher is very real, but you could try not to…

“Dank farrik…” He swears to himself. Mulling over his options with your half-asleep body leaning into him, he must realize there’s only one option available. “You’ll have to keep your eyes closed the entire time, okay?”

You look up at him sheepishly. “Okay.”

“I mean it,” He repeats. “You can’t—”

“I won’t look, Mando. You can trust me.”

A drawn-out sigh emits from the helmet, but he seems to be satisfied enough with your comment. Keeping yourself steady by holding down on his pauldrons, you watch as he carefully begins to remove your pants and underwear, gently telling you to step out of them and tossing them to the side.

“Lift your arms,”

He pulls your tunic over your head, and even though you’re absolutely wrecked and exhausted, being completely naked in front of the Mandalorian while he stands there, fully clothed and wearing his armour, you begin to feel a bit self-conscious, and try to cover up your body with your hands and arms.

“What…are you doing?” He asks, head tilting to the side.

“Feel so exposed,” You mutter.

“Now you feel exposed? Not when my cock was inside you?” He jests.

“Mmm, that was before.”

Mando sighs once again, the sound breaking apart like static through his helmet. “Get in the fresher, I’ll be there soon.”

“M’okay.”

Turning around sleepily, you head into the refresher and turn the water on. Kriff, it feels good. Standing directly under the hose, you let the water cascade down your body, closing your eyes and enjoying the warmth that tickles your skin.

“Okay, eyes closed,” Mando says, voice no longer modulated by his helmet. Maker, his voice is heavenly. Curse the helmet he wears, covering up a sound as sweet as Mando’s voice. Smooth like silk, you wish you could listen to him for hours, undistorted and naked. Keeping your promise, your eyes wrench shut, palms coming out trying to find him in the small space you’re both sharing. You feel his hands meet yours, your own feels so small in his. Calloused fingers trail up your arm, causing goosebumps to form on your skin and you purr into him.

And then, he’s gently massaging the bar of soap across your body, ridding your body of the grime and sweat from the day. It’s ridiculously intimate, and it’s actually quite surprising how gentle he’s handling you, given the fact that he kills people with those same hands, but it’s incredibly endearing. The entire time he cleans you up, your hands are resting on his broad shoulders. Suddenly, you feel him get closer to you, and you’re forced to back up, feeling the wall touch your bare back. Mando leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. You need to crane your head upwards to meet his, but it’s not uncomfortable. This is probably the first time his face has been touched by another being since…well you’re not sure when because you’ve never actually asked him when the last time he took his helmet off was, but you assume it’s been years.

“When’s the last time you took off your helmet in front of another person?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, not only because your vocal cords are shot from all the obscene noises you made before, but also because you’re scared that if you speak too loudly, he’ll dismiss your question.

“I was just a child.”

“You don’t ever want to show your face?”

The water trinkles over both your faces and bodies, hands carded together.

“This is the Way.” He answers plainly, but you sense a bit of uncertainty in the way he speaks. It’s almost like he’s lost the true reason for covering his face—that there came a time in his life where he began to question his Creed, but still feels like he has an obligation to adhere to it.

You want to see his face. There are so many questions that you wish you had the answers to.

Do the corners of his eyes wrinkle when he laughs?

Does he have any scars or dimples?

Have the many years of fighting and surviving aged his face beyond his actual age?

What color are his eyes?

You’re not sure if you’ll ever know the answers to those questions, but truthfully, it doesn’t really matter. You don’t need to know all those aspects of him because they’re simply just arbitrary details. Everything that you really need to know, you’re already aware of.

And what you know is, you’re in love with a Mandalorian.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #the mandalorian smut #we are one when together #fics

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iloveyou3thousand · 4 years

Text

what he’d been missing

Pairing: Starker Rating: Explicit Word count: 2668 A/N: This was written for the @starkerkink Kink Exchange, for @iammagicfishhook who asked for some monsterfucking. I really hope you like it!!

Tags/TWs: explicit sexual content, werewolf Tony and human Peter, werewolf sex, werewolf anatomy, belly bulge, knotting, rimming, bottom Peter

Read it on AO3 here!

—————————————————————————

It had taken them a little while, but they had finally figured it out.

Before they had gotten together, Peter had one day found out that Tony wasn’t like most people he knew. It had been entirely by accident, had happened only because Peter had been up later than usual working on a project. By chance, his extra sensitive hearing had picked up on something stalking the compound and he’d gone to investigate, only to find a large beast roaming the compound grounds.

That could have been that. The compound was in the middle of nowhere, after all, surrounded by woods that stretched for miles upon miles – the animal could have stumbled upon the building and gone to investigate.

Peter had quickly found out that the intruder hadn’t come from elsewhere, though. He’d come from within.

Weeks later, after dancing around each other for months with neither of them brave enough or confident enough to be the one to take the first real step forward, they got together with a kiss that was about as accidental as Peter finding out that Tony was a werewolf.

Tony allowed Peter to be nearby during his shifts, from that moment on. Peter had already seen him change before, had been near in the past, had seen him and approached him and gotten to know him a little better, in a sense. But now that they were together, it felt almost like it was more serious. Like being there during the full moon carried more weight than it did before.

And it did. Unbeknownst to the both of them, at least at first, the fact that Peter was there almost every time Tony shifted, changed something in the wolf’s biology. He had always responded differently to Peter, but that was only getting worse with every shift. On the outside, it didn’t appear like it had changed much, but on the inside, every time Tony shifted, he grew more and more restless to the point where even Peter started to notice it in his behavior.

Tony would always come up to Peter and push his head against the younger man’s hand for some quick affection, but that grew into a firmer push, a more demanding gesture, with Tony not leaving until he’d nearly pushed Peter to his ass and could rub himself against the other without fear of Peter getting away.

He also started grooming Peter, almost as if he were one of his own, as if he were a wolf, too. Or he would get snappy at anything and everything that could possibly pose a threat to Peter, from a little wild rabbit showing its little face at the edge of the woods to Happy’s car returning from the city to bring Pepper back and forth even just passing them by.

Peter tried not to think about it too much, but the growling and the protectiveness and the restlessness grew worse and worse every time, to the point where he just had to bring it up with Tony.

It took them a while and some help from Bruce to figure out that since getting together, Tony’s hormones had been all over the place. It’s what had been causing the change in his attitude, and the fierce protectiveness. According to the tests they’d done, Tony already viewed Peter as his true mate, even though that connection could never be truly mutual because Peter was human and he didn’t have the kind of senses to pick up on and return that.

At least it helped them in finding a solution.

Going forward, they started trying whatever they could to reassure Tony’s wolf that Peter was his and his alone, and that nothing would ever come in between them or sever the bond they had built. It seemed to work at first, with Tony calming down and resting quite peacefully with Peter during another one of his shifts, but then it came back again. And it came back with twice the force.

When it started to get potentially dangerous for Peter, they both knew that they were approaching desperate times, and thus would have to try and implement some desperate measures.

Luckily, Peter still had a little trick up his sleeve.

When he told Tony, Tony was skeptical. He was worried, for Peter, afraid of hurting him. But Peter countered wisely that if they didn’t try this as a last resort, if this didn’t work, then Tony would end up hurting Peter on accident anyway without there being anything that could stop him. That terrified Tony more than anything else.

All in all, Peter’s plan seemed like the lesser of two evils. (Actually, it didn’t seem like a bad idea at all, but Tony refused to admit that the thought of mounting Peter properly got him so riled up that he had to excuse himself every time he even so much as thought about it.)

The following full moon, they were all set.

In the hours leading up to Tony’s inevitable shift, they lay down together. Peter showered Tony in attention that made him visibly preen already, his instincts close to taking over, but the moon wasn’t quite high enough for him just yet. The younger man passed him a bottle of lube and Tony quietly reconfirmed that he was still sure about this. Peter smiled, cupped Tony’s cheek, and kissed him.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he promised, although it didn’t do enough to soothe Tony’s anxiety. He was afraid of hurting Peter, afraid of putting his claws where he shouldn’t, or pushing him too far, or forcing him into something that he didn’t want to do. But Peter had been so reassuring, constantly validating Tony’s feelings and fears and acknowledging that it was going to be scary, but it was going to be alright. They just had to do this once to figure out how it all worked, and then they’d be good as gold.

Tony had to trust his instincts. Hopefully, his instincts would serve him right.

By the time Tony’s skin buzzed beyond discomfort and he’d slowly spread his baby open on his fingers, Peter gave him a kiss and told him to go and do what he had to. Tony’s feet could barely hit the carpet on the floor next to the bed or he’d already shifted, shaking out unruly, brown fur, and immediately catching a whiff of something sallow.

The lube.

His mind took a second to catch up, but then he whipped around, and there Peter was; lying on the bed, watching the wolf on the ground, something scared but excited in his eyes. Beyond that thick smell of artificial slick, Tony could smell Peter, could smell the arousal on him, and it was like something clicked.

This was what he’d been missing.

“Hey Tony,” Peter said softly, almost tentatively, as if he wasn’t sure if Tony’s mind had caught up with the wolf yet, but it had. Intelligent eyes rose to meet the younger man’s gaze, and Peter’s expression eased into a soft smile. Without further ado, while Tony was watching, Peter pushed himself up onto his hands and knees to put himself perfectly on display, almost teasingly.

Tony was on the bed in a flash, the mattress dipping beneath the wolf’s heavy weight. He had to find his balance first, unused to being on the bed in this form, but quickly managed when there was another task at hand.

He immediately pushed his muzzle up against Peter’s hole, slick and shiny with lube, stretched rim twitching gently under the soft puffs of air when Tony scented and snuffled. Peter giggled, and dropped his head to his forearms.

“Tickles,” he complained, but really it was only mildly bothersome because it was new, something Peter had never experienced before, and he wasn’t sure what to expect yet.

Definitely not the broad tongue that followed Tony’s huffy breaths, lapping in one long, broad stroke up Peter’s taint and across his glistening hole. Peter’s breath immediately caught in his throat and he let out a choked sound of surprise, but didn’t try to move away. Once he got past that initial oddness, it actually… It actually felt really good.

He moaned when Tony didn’t hesitate to do it again. And once more after. And yet again. Peter’s cock between his legs had already fully filled out by the time Tony changed tactic by pressing his muzzle up against Peter’s hole and pushing his tongue past the tight ring of muscle and into his body, which opened up and welcomed the intrusion like it was meant to.

Peter shuddered on the spot, cock twitching, the long tongue reaching places inside him that he wasn’t sure anyone had reached before. Not like that. Tony had sure tried, had taken him in his lap and pound into him before, and it had been an otherworldly experience, but even that didn’t compare to this.

And they had only just gotten started.

When Tony was satisfied with the job he’d done and left Peter’s hole sloppy and wet, he moved away, much to Peter’s dissatisfaction. The young man looked over his shoulder to see what Tony was doing, and caught him with his head between his legs, licking at the fiery red length that was slipping out from the sheath at Tony’s lower belly. He lapped at it as if to encourage it, to slick it up, ready to bury it into Peter’s waiting body.

Astounded by the size he’d just laid his eyes upon, Peter turned back when Tony shifted once more, keeping his eyes forward to try and help himself relax once again. Something so big would never fit inside of him. It simply couldn’t. And yet when Tony mounted him, large front paws on either side of Peter’s ribs and his large tongue lapping soothingly against the back of his neck, Peter realized he was just going to have to take it.

“Be gentle,” Peter reminded Tony almost frantically, his voice a higher pitch than usual. Tony paused for a moment, and then licked the back of his ear as if to say ‘I hear you, I’m listening, I promise’. And then Tony lined up.

Peter’s body opened up for the pointed tip of Tony’s cock like it was the easiest thing, the wolf’s saliva easing its way. It was warm, and smooth, and big, but Peter took it silently, wordlessly, without complaint, until the very beginnings of the knot that Tony had warned him about countless of times nudged up against his stretched out rim and the wolf had successfully buried all of himself inside the human.

Peter let out a shuddery sigh, relaxing slowly with the soothing little licks to the back of his neck and his hair. Grooming. Tony had been doing that for a while, and it still helped Peter relax, inexplicably. But right now he couldn’t have been more glad.

Especially when Tony started moving not long after.

And it seemed that once he got a taste of it, that cautious approach he’d started out with was thrown out the window. The first few thrusts were relatively shallow, patient, careful – but Tony sped up quickly, putting that massive strength in his hind legs to good use to force himself in and out of Peter faster, quicker, rougher. Every thrust knocked the air out of Peter’s lungs but the overwhelming pleasure that came with the quickening pace left him without the ability to breathe anyway, so it didn’t matter.

Peter grabbed at the bedsheets, the only leverage he had against the rough thrusts that almost lifted him up off his knees every time, shaking the bedframe. Tony panted into Peter’s ear, hot and humid, occasionally darting his tongue across a stray drop of sweat that gathered on the back of Peter’s neck.

The younger man was useless beneath the wolf, just trying to keep himself on his knees, speared on Tony’s cock, tossed about with the force of the thrusts. He was strong, stronger than most human beings, but he had never felt more like a ragdoll than he did while Tony was fucking into him like that.

And he liked it. God forbid, he liked it so much that he came without touching himself, without even knowing that he did, floating on endless, overwhelming waves of pleasure that every harsh thrust brought with it.

They became more ragged and irregular by the second, and Peter knew that it would soon be over. He already missed it, even though it hadn’t even ended yet. But he was in for one more surprise.

Tony’s knot had already grown to the size of a relatively small apple, sitting at the base of his cock, nudging Peter’s hole with every other thrust, just begging to be let inside. It slipped in occasionally, much to Peter’s pleasure, that sudden, extra stretch and extra couple of inches deep within him rushing him closer and closer to a second orgasm.

And when Tony finally fitted all of it inside of him, and Peter could feel it rapidly start to increase in size, tugging at his already stretched out rim – that’s what did it for him the second time around.

Peter quickly brought a hand down between his legs to stroke himself through his orgasm, moaning and keening and writhing beneath the wolf as the knot grew and grew, sealing them together to be followed up with a load buried so deep inside Peter’s body that it had the younger man feeling more bloated than he ever did before.

He pressed a hand to his stomach, panting, marveling at the feeling, and froze up when he felt the deformation on his belly. He pressed against it, and Tony above him whined, his massive cock twitching inside him and filling him with another load.

Peter smoothed his fingertips over the bulge under his skin again and again, the thought of Tony so deep inside him that it could do that nearly sending him over the edge again, but his cock was still weakly twitching from his last orgasm. Although Peter wouldn’t be surprised if he would be good to go again in seconds. Not with the enormous knot tugging at his abused rim.

The large wolf collapsed on top of Peter, and he groaned under the weight, constricting around Tony. Instantly, Peter noticed the change. He hadn’t seen Tony this sedated, this sated or happy or satisfied in a long time, not while in his wolf form. Not to mention the affection that followed, the grooming and the playfulness, all so unhurried.

Peter praised the wolf softly, reaching a hand over his shoulder to pet his head and compliment him for his behavior and his patience. They were stuck together for a while, but even after, Tony was a different wolf.

He cleaned Peter up and made sure the young man got comfortable before he lay down with him and looked up at him with those big, doe eyes full of adoration, as if their spiritual bond had just been confirmed tenfold.

And really, Peter would be lying if he didn’t…kind of feel it too.

Or maybe he was just seeing things.

“I’d say that worked, didn’t it?” Peter murmured sleepily, combing his hand through Tony’s fur. He received a lick in return, which in wolf speak must have been something agreeable. Peter was sure that if Tony had been able to speak, he would have said so too. And he would have likely suggest they go for another round.

And hell, it only took Peter a little while to recuperate from his first time taking Tony’s wolf cock. Before too long, he was already toying with the sensitive sheath on Tony’s lower belly with a mischievous grin, watching the pointed tip of his cock slip out slowly.

If Tony could have raised his brows, he absolutely would have.

But he’d be crazy if he was going to say no.

#StarkerKink2020 #starker #ironspider #Peter Parker/Tony Stark #tony stark x peter parker #starker fanfic #my fanfic #my writing #werewolf au #nff #aus #tw knotting #tw belly bulge #look at me posting something again wow it's been ages #in my defence i lost my job so I've been busy welp

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hurtthemgently · 3 years

Text

Aftermath of stress position

+some fantasy politics?

Masterlist

Cw: stress position, manipulative whumper, intimate whumper, dislocation of arms, nonhuman whumpee, noncon touching.

Tristan sat and listened to the ambassador drone on about trade routes. The kingdom of Senouthis wanted access to the southern pass, but he knew that the northern pass would be more beneficial to their infrastructure. It had easier access to the sea and to the great forests in his own kingdom.

But they wanted the southern pass. He listened to his father explain the situation for a third time. The ambassador still wanted the southern pass.

He briefly traced his finger along the ring on his hand, tempted to twist it ever so slightly. But it was the tedious monotony that he wanted to torment the assassin with. The pain would come after he broke.

Until then, he’d listen to idiot ambassadors who think they know everything.

——

This was worse than any torture Clove had been through. His arms burned with the strain of being bent behind him. He constantly had to shift his weight to keep balance, and each time he did, the sharp edges of the cylinders pressed into his feet. If it weren’t for the threat of the holy water, he would have given up by now. The constant strain was worse than dislocated shoulders.

But the holy water was just an inch below his feet. He was terrified of what it would do to him, and desperate to never find out.

It had been an hour since the tears stopped coming. Clove could feel his arms start to give, and tensed to keep from falling. Bad idea. He felt a spike of pain up through his legs, as the muscles he had been straining for hours suddenly cramped.

He heard an awful popping noise, just before a wave of nausea overcame him. The blinding pain coursed through every muscle, like lightning. A burning tearing pain in his shoulders. A cold sharpness in his chest, coursing through his veins. Pins and needles in his legs, the cramping turned to a dull ache.

He was vaguely aware of sound, like distant cries. The pain made everything blur, a senseless ache that screamed at him to get away from its source. Everything burned. Everything ached. There was nothing left of the assassin, only pain.

The pain consumed every thought, every other feeling. It made him nothing. A haze started to cover over the burning sharp ache. A relief. Then blankness.

——

The prince woke to a sharp poke in his shoulder. He looked up to see the ambassadors daughter, looking at him and suppressing laughter. She pointed up to where her father was pointing at a map of the southern pass.

He watched as the stick he was using to point started to wriggle and writhe. The ambassador let out a yelp as he dropped a live snake to the floor.

Tristan looked over to the girl next to him and saw she was covering her smile with her hand. The prince stood and picked up the snake, ignoring the entire room staring at him, and brought it over to the girl.

“I’ve vanquished the mighty beast in your honor, m’lady” he held the tiny writhing snake out towards her as she burst out laughing. He laughed too, almost dropping the small creature.

She took the snake from his hands and placed it on her shoulder, where it wrapped around her neck and turned to silver, covered in tiny black gems. “I thank you for your great bravery, m’lord”

The king finally rose “this meeting is dismissed for now, we’ll reconvene on the hour” he glared at his son, barely disguising a smile

——

Tristan descended the steps into the dungeon, eager to see his captive broken. He opened toe cell door to see that he had fallen. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn’t used actual holy water.

“You can now touch the floor” he said aloud, wondering if the command would work even when the assassin couldn’t hear him.

He looked at how bad his shoulders were twisted and realized that he didn’t know to set joints. Maybe he needed a medic. He undid the clasps around the assassins wrists and carried him to a long table outside the cell, remembering to remove the gag.

He heard a small groan from the assassin as he walked out of the dungeon to get help.

Feeling began to return. Clove wished that weren’t the case. The icy cutting in his chest was gone, but his arms ached. He was aware of being carried and laid out on a hard surface.

After a while, he felt a pair of hands grab his arm and- “Ah-AgH—” he heard a sickening pop as the joint was jerked into place. The snap tore through him, he couldn’t see despite opening his eyes.

He felt the same pair of hands grab his other arm and whimpered, bracing for the pain. His cry rang out in the stone halls.

A different hand, one far more gentle, carded through his hair. It felt so soo good. He tried to lean into the touch, but a spike of pain went through his shoulder as he shifted slightly.

Tristan watched his captive flinch and gasp, trying to lean towards his hand, and briefly thought of pulling his hand away to make him struggle more. But the assassin needed comfort.

Tristan wanted for his captive to rely on him completely for comfort.

#intimate whumper #royal whumper #reanimation whump #captivity whump #noncon touching #whump writing #nonhuman whumpee #restrained #whump #stress position

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ratcandy · 3 years

Note

UHHH THE SECOND IDEA FIRST

OKAY Time's disastrous universe let's get it boys

Below is a VERY long personal-story related ramble because a lot happens here and there's a lot to explain and I'm being enabled (c/w death, a LOT of memory erasure, Gods being idiots, and. If I need to add anythin else here someone better let me know hehehe)

feat some dumb lil doodles here n there because i felt like it

Exposition time first!

At the beginning of everything, eight universes were created, each differentiated by color. A Universe Owner is assigned to each universe, and that entity is then responsible for their universe's laws of reality, the lives of the characters, and... whatever else they decide to mess with. This is so I can allow myself a lot of freedom in making stories in many different areas n such without worrying about it following another story's rules >:)

Okay exposition time done! for now!

One day out of the blue, the God of Time decided that they wanted a universe all for themselves. They wanted to create life!! They wanted to make a world!! It'd be fun! It'd be a whole vibe!

So, against the wishes of the God of Balance, Time made a ninth universe and fruitlessly tried to keep it hidden from everyone else. This backfired instantly. A huge argument broke out between Time and Balance, as the latter was pissed, but Time won in the end and was allowed to keep their universe. Balance is just upset there's not a nice even number anymore. He'll get over himself eventually.

Straight up having a great time now, the God of Time went hogwild and fleshed out their universe to the best of their ability. Beautiful lush forests, stunning pink skies as if it were in a continuous sunrise, crystal-clear waters that glimmer ever-so-brightly!! Yes!! Pretty!! And immediately after, they created creatures!! And people! To inhabit their world!

Elegant flying beasts, colorful people of all shapes and sizes, bustling towns with trade and life and energy and!!! Yes! Yes!! Vibes!!

Time was living their BEST life.

But. Well. This is my story. things gotta go wrong now

SO! First, something to note about how the God of Time works:

Time's primary job is to keep the Time Fire from ever going out or touching the ground. The Time Fire is an eternally burning flame, forever shifting from vibrant color to vibrant color, getting bigger and burning stronger with every passing millennia. It also... y'know. Allows time itself to function. If it goes out, time will stop. If it touches the floor, time will go NUTS and parallel/alternate universes will go haywire, clashing into one another and messing up reality.

The God of Time, luckily, has powerful psychic abilities.. The tall mans just put the Time Fire in a sort of protective bubble, constantly floating above the ground, and left it in a temple at the center of their universe. Epic. All works out

Well. All SHOULD have worked out.

At some point, Time left their universe to have a meeting with the Gods, and on their way to Oblivion - often a meeting place for deities - they witnessed something Very Unfortunate.

One of the Universe Owners, Hesit (white universe), was being torn to pieces by an intruder in the higher realm. By killing and consuming Hesit, possession of the white universe was transferred to said intruder: a big asshole named Vexis. Time tried to confront Vexis immediately after. This was a mistake, as Vexis panicked and attacked Time. Seeing as Gods cannot die, Vexis instead trapped the god in his newly-acquired universe - binding him there forever.

So now Time is imprisoned in the white universe, lost and confused, not knowing how to get back out. And Vexis doesn't plan on telling anyone about this.

The other gods soon realize that Time has gone missing. Very soon, actually, because... well. With Time being swept away into the white universe and being held prisoner there, uhm. A certain something important isn't being held suspended anymore.

The Time Fire.

It hasn't fallen yet, but it's gradually sinking toward the ground, and sometHING has to get a hold on it soon!! Or HELL WORLD!!

Balance loses his MIND!! We have to do something about this before time becomes a catastrophic, unfixable disaster! And also we're missing a god!! This is not good!! At first, Balance goes looking for Time, but realizes he doesn't really uh... have the time to be doing that

So, in desperation, he searches his mind for possible solutions. He gets one, crazy idea, and practically begs the God of Death to help him pull it off. Death agrees, because this is the one (1) time Death acknowledges that the mortal realm being in danger might be a bad thing.

To put a long plan short, Balance used Death to turn the Goddess of Pain into a pseudo Goddess of Time.

Pain had previously been wreaking HAVOC, and Balance was NOT happy about it. Way too many mortals were dying, then not dying, then losing their sanities, then losing control of themselves, and it was just. Very messy. He didn't feel great about using her to replace Time, but he didn't have many options. And he needed someone to take over. So, he and Death worked together to erase Pain's memories and turn her into a Goddess of Time.

They couldn't give her psychic abilities, though. So, how'd they deal with the Time Fire? It now permanently rests on Pain/Time's back. As in, the flame is constantly burning her spine for all of eternity, steadily searing her flesh but never allowing her to die. She's grown progressively numb to it over many, many years, but that doesn't make it any less unfortunate for her.

Balance feels awful about this. Especially since Pain/Time doesn't remember who she was, and believes she's always been Time. This is how it's always been. The universe around her is one she made, one she owns. Anytime Balance stops by to visit (as Time cannot move now from the temple with the fire), she greets him so kindly, so happy to have company... and he just feels terrible, knowing what he's done to her.

Well... at least that's settled. This cannot possibly go awry in any way shape or f----

The new Goddess of Time is trying her best to make creations for her universe. After all, that's what she's always done! These are her children, essentially, and she needs to have more. This, uh... well, the Goddess of Pain was not made with creating in mind, rather destroying. So, despite her valiant efforts, half of her creations come out... a Lil Messed Up. But she loves them all the same and keeps them around!!! Even if they're... worse for wear, or not quite like the rest!! They're her children. Yea!

At some point, however, her creating takes a bit too much from other universes' energy, and a mortal from another universe just ends up appearing in Time's. His name is Dustivan, and he is reasonably confused. One moment, he was vibing with his sister and her wife, and the next-- where the hell is he. why is the sky pink. who is this block man approaching me

The block man in question is named Maurice, and he is a sort of guardian for Time's temple. The Time that's always been here. The Time that has always looked like that and never been any different! (All of the Original Time's creations had their memories wiped, too. This Goddess of Time is the only one there's ever been! That's your mother, see. There is no other Time. She created you. Don't worry about it)

Maurice greets Dusty under the assumption that this man is just another new creation, and is soon told that "Uh, no, I'm... from some place else? I have a family? And a home, elsewhere?" M. Maurice is a lil confused. But he asks Time about this.

Time has no idea what he's talking about, either, so Maurice just... calmly escorts Dusty away, promising to get back to him later. We'll figure this out, man, don't you even worry about it

Now, there's a bit here that's only loosely developed! That being Dusty's stay in Time's Universe! Lil man meets a lotta folks, gets used to this weird world he's living in, makes good friends with Maurice and Maurice's maybe-more-than-friends-:flushed: friend Arin, aaand has a great experience! Because Time's universe is incredibly serene and peaceful, even with the new management!

Straight up vibi--- oh no wait what's this

Somehow, Maurice, Arin and Dusty find out about the whole... thing that happened with the original Time, and Pain being turned into the new Time. Maurice and Arin get their memories back and freak out a little while Dusty is just standing there like "big rip on you guys I guess"

Shenanigans ensue and Maurice goes back to Pain/Time, thinking it'll definitely work out if he tells her everything that happened so her.

Hey so it doesn't work out

Pain regains her own memories, and becomes ABSOLUTELY PISSED OFF, shedding the form forced onto her and returning back into the Goddess of Pain. In her transformation, however, she shook the Time Fire from her back, screaming in the agony that caused her, and. well.

she hit the floor (she hit the floor) next thing ya know, time fire got low low low low low low

Time itself was sent into disarray. The God of Balance felt it happen, FREAKED OUT, picked up the God of Death and just BOOKED IT into Time's Universe, dashing toward the temple. But it... was no longer a temple! It was very much destroyed. Balance is faced with the rubble of the former temple, the Fire just chillin on the ground, Arin bleeding to death after being attacked by Pain, Maurice fretting and trying to keep Arin alive, and Dusty aboutta also fucking die because Pain is angry. Alongside the bodies of whatever other poor creations/people just happened to be nearby the temple when this went down. Which was probably quite a few, as the temple was almost always open to visitors.

Death and Balance did the exact same thing again, though with added struggle. Pain was reverted to Time, the Time Fire was yeeted right back onto her spine (followed by a shriek of... pain), and Balance practically collapsed onto the floor hoping to never get up again

Death, however, forced him up, gesturing to the creations around them and uh. hey. their minds. wipe 'em Balance was very tired by this point, but began wiping the survivor's memories, running into Dusty and realizing "hey wait a minute. you're not from this universe" and just kicking that idiot back to where he's supposed to be. might've forgotten to wipe that one's mind but uh i'm sure that's not important

And that's essentially the end of that plot thread! Life continues as if nothing happened, afterwards. Time was restored (though a fuckton of "discrepancies" are now notable throughout the universes, as if time went Wonky or something), the people are thriving, and Maurice & Arin... the latter of which did indeed survive... are wondering if there's something important they were supposed to remember.

nah. probably not

there's a few side stories with characters in Time's universe, including another survivor of the Pain Realizing Who She Is incident... though he got the hell outta dodge and managed to keep his memories. making him a sort of fugitive as Balance has to track that idiot down and fix that problem but!!! this is already a very, very long post, so. WOO

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baka-monarch · 4 years

Text

Virgil And The Beanstalk concept (bulleit fic)

After SVSR, Roman disappears for a few days, not ducking out but refusing to show up

At first everyone was going to give him his distance until it's discovered (probably by Remus) that there's now a giant bean stalk in Roman's part of the imagination

Talking to the imagined village folk promts on a dialogue about how their prince was taken by a terrible giant to the top of the beanstalk

The Dragon Wotch backs up this claim but tells everyone not to worry about it, it's just Roman's way of working through everything and they were right to give him his space

All the sides do just that and try to continue on with their roles, Roman's creativity still a part of Thomas keeping things balanced

After a while (about a week) Virgil starts getting more worried, the beanstalk shows no signs of disappearing and Roman hasn't come up with any new ideas, just expanding on old ones

Paranoia gets the best of Virgil (he did used to be paranoia) and he starts making plans and preparations to climb the beanstalk

On the day he goes, instead of telling the other sides he leaves them a not in his room about where he is

Since the imagination can be shifted and sculpted by Thomas' conscious, Virgil is able to get to the top in a few hours instead of days.

At the top of the beanstalk is a small, but extravagant castle, still large enough to make Virgil feel only a few inches tall though

Virgil easily enters, either under a door or an open window and starts looking for Roman

Instead Virgil finds the giant

After SVSR Roman was upset. He was angry, sad , betrayed, and so many emotions he couldn't control

He just wanted some control

Roman decides to create a place to isolate himself in, not wanting to face all these emotions and memories, and all the pain he had been feeling

At first he just wanted a day or so to himself, so the other sides wouldn't bother him, but the longer he was gone the more he liked this

With his own "little" world Roman had control over so many things and never had to worry about anything else

With Thomas having old ideas to work on and Remus, Roman wouldn't have to return, and certainly the other sides wouldn't worry, they hadn't so far if their absence was anything to go by

Now, this is where they meet

Virgil at first didn't recognize the giant, terrified of the gargantuan being before him

Virgil was not able to move as his mind screamed at him to run

When Roman saw Virgil he was, honestly a little angry

Virgil, having the eyes of an annoyed giant look down at him would freeze even more

Roman would break Virgil out of his terrified trance by reaching down for him

As soon as the giant reaches a huge hand for him Virgil regains control over his body and runs

Roman easley scoops Virgil up and drops him into a jar haphazardly

After being trapped Virgil recognizes the giant as Roman

Holy shit, that's Roman!?!?

Roman glares down at Virgil not exactly the "friendly giant" at this point

At this point they would argue for a bit about everything that's happened

By the time Virgil realizes that Roman isn't exactly "the friendly giant" he thought he was, Roman has slammed his fist next to the jar sending a wave of fear through Virgil and he knows it's too late to have realized that fact

Roman puts Virgil's jar on a high shelf where the emo can't bother him and continues with his own twisted version of "self care"

Except while Virgil is trapped there he constantly tries to escape

Roman takes Virgil out every now and then, mainly to let him eat at first but... prinxiety(platonic or otherwise, you decode) bonding and getting along more. Talking about Virgil's past, how Roman feels after everything, but that doesn't change the fact that Roman has some control here, and he likes it. So every time Virgil brings up doing the right thing Roman gets upset and Virgil is either put back in the jar or... other things that Roman does without thinking

When the other sides find Virgil's not they immediately start preparing to go after him

The problem with this is that Roman would have figured out that they would be coming and has transformed the area around the bottom of the beanstalk to keep them out

The area is a thick forest filled with beasts, challenges, traps, and other dangers

The other sides have to go though

They have to make sure that Roman (who they do not know is a giant) and Virgil are okay

Cue Roman going dark, the dark sides bonding with the lights more, and when they gat to Roman some creativitwins bonding

Welp, that's how far I got in my brainstorming

#sander sides #roman sanders #giant roman #virgil sanders #svsr #ts svsr #g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny

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twitchesandstitches · 3 years

Text

so there’s a recurring motif in some recent posts; first, the idea that Tia has unspoken limits that compel her to devour others (including her friends or bystanders, when otherwise she wants to protect them or at least means them no harm; thus the only way to be a REAL hero is for her to be a monster), and that she has severe problems with permanence.

For the first, Tia has some limited resources. They’re ultimately extremely high, relative to normal mortals; she might be commented on as having some extreme limits and magical endurance relative to others, allowing her to cast spells that would outright kill or completely take out magic users way stronger than her. but they ARE limited, and once she hits that limit... there’s always foes she can’t beat. Monsters she can’t stop. The only way to overcome her limits is to CONSUME. So how far will she go, to make sure she’s the monster that never loses? Or perhaps she gains power from rage, from violence and desire; of indulging herself and going into destructive rages, savagely beating her enemies like a wild beast, a nightmare made flesh. many magic users may derive their powers in the same way, so she’s not unusual.

To be a hero, she must be a monster. It’s what she is; what she must always be. However she evolves, whatever she becomes, this is one inescapable truth. She is some thing outside the world of those she cares about and loves, an ever-shifting horror pretending to be like them.

And the more power she expends, the more she pushes herself, the more monstrous she becomes, and acts.

The second issue is permanence. Tia is compelled to constantly change herself, to cast off aspects of her form, to transform herself and consume powers and attributes she no longer makes use of, even if she intends to get them again later. She is constantly changing, and she even has a hard time just staying in one place. Her form, her powers, even most aspects of her identity are gradually changing. so what if she WANTS to make something permanent? If she’s constantly changing, can she be said to have any choice in who and what she is?

so this gives her incentives to create cults. People who love her, worship her, want to be like her, or plead for her protection and warmth; this belief gives her power, and stabilizes her. They might not be LITERAL cults, lurking in the shadows and doing unsavory things in cloaks. They might just be people who hang out around her and get really enthusiastic about being fed to her, or serve her in any capacity. Their belief gives her power, stabilizing her form... but they can also influence her, their assumptions and their own desires molding her personality and drives in ways she might not necessarily want.

So it’s a balancing act. One way, she might be a rampaging monster completely dominated by mercurial impulses and hunger. On the other, a dominating force of nature that corrupts mortals into obedience and sacrifice, molding them to her specifications even as she becomes an embodiments of what their warped minds adore.

#twitchy!ocs #twitchy!tiashar #in short when played seriously #there's a TON of plot hooks if you want to explore them!#whether its characters immune to these effects that make her feel more Real #or exploring what happens when a cultist begs to become part of Momma Tia #queued

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emerald-amidst-gold · 3 years

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For the OTP ask: 8, 9, 16, 53, and 91 (for this one, it could just be a song you have for them, too) :D

*rubs palms together and giggles* Oooo, I'm loving these questions! I get to show how much of a nerd am I for these two nerds! >:3

8. Who tends to worry the most?

I was going to answer this with 'both equally', but the more I think, the more I realize that Solas is the one who worries the most. XD

I mean, come on. We all know Solas is a natural worry wart. It's in the man's blood, and Fane has a tendency to make his dear wolf's blood pressure rise to fatal heights with the shit he does. PFFT!

Fane is a literal battering ram when it comes to battles (this is based on how I've specced him in-game), and he just charges in without caring if he'll get sliced, diced, or scorched. Fane's illness with magic makes it incredibly difficult for Solas to erect barriers on him, so he has to devise other ways to keep Fane in one piece (nitpicking about his armor, constantly asking, 'Are you certain you are ready?', and begging, 'Please control yourself this time, ma'isenatha.') All of that worry comes from the fact that Solas has seen Fane die, has had to guide him to it, even. Fane doesn't mean to brush off that concern and worry, but when he's embroiled in battle he...loses his senses a bit. Dragons aren't meant to fight, and fighting is what Fane does best in his new life, so he has a hard time balancing bloodlust with merciful restraint.

If Fane gets injured (which he does, but only grazes and the occasional gash), Solas won't let anyone else attend to him, fear gripping his mind, memories of blood soaked crystal and decaying scales cracking his mask and rendering him tortured. When Fane sees that, instead of just seeing the nagging, he'll go docile, go remorseful and will say, 'I'm sorry, my sky. I never meant to-- I only--hn.' Once they talk and wind down though, things get right back on track, but Solas is constantly worrying over his dragon--constantly.

Solas worries about everything with Fane--his scars, his nightmares, his battle with his identity--but battle is where he's the least reserved in it. He doesn't want Fane to have to fight, but he knows they both don't have a choice in the matter.

9. Who is more inclined to be jealous or possessive?

Dragons--naturally possessive, i.e. hoards.

Wolves--naturally protective of those within their pack, i.e. touch member of pack, you get snapped at or even bitten.

Fane and Solas are both highly protective of one another. They just go about it in different ways. Fane's more likely to snap and glower at an infringing form, making it known where they can take their 'affections'. Solas is more reserved, but most can attest that his gaze leaves them shivering and near stone with how cold it is if Fane is randomly touched by an unwanted suitor or harassed by a fawning noble. Obviously, Fane and Solas try to keep the respective beasts at bay, worried the other will think less of them for such childish behavior, but sometimes--sometimes--it's extremely hard to keep a polite mask in place due to memories of harshness and filth.

For example!

---

"You're...jealous?", Fane asked, blinking and attempting to piece together what he was feeling now. And he couldn’t. “Of who?”

Solas' eyes fell shut with a rueful chuckle. "Most here. Is that hard to believe? It is petty, I know, but eyes have been upon you since your entrance; each pair a set of daggers. You carried yourself with confidence, with pride, and every single noble within the ballroom responded to your very presence. They whispered, they sought, they undressed." The final word a mixture between a hiss and a growl that was accompanied by a small sneer of disdain before it all relaxed. "My heart knows where your own lies, my dragon, but my mind, too, is being a thorn in my side."

Fane stared down at Solas, shocked and...mesmerized. His sky had been jealous of the looks of fops and prisses? Those who had no chance of ever reaching through to his heart? To his emotions? Those who played with lives as a puppeteer did with strings?

This was...oddly amusing, but only because they were both fools.

Here they were, in the lion’s den, hunting an assassin that threatened to topple an empire, seeking answers to questions they didn’t even know yet, playing a game of macabre chess and deciding who would rise and who would fall, and they were both jealous from nattering nobles who killed for sport or an inconsequential servant girl that would be forgotten in the morn. The ridiculousness nearly made Fane cackle. Was this what court intrigue encompassed? He didn’t see the appeal.

Fane huffed out amusedly. "I love you.", he said, point blank with no room to be denied. “Ar lath ma, ma tarasyl.”, he repeated in Elvhen, lifting a hand to rub at his face and shook his head in disbelief at himself.

Solas’ eyes snapped open at his declaration, a blush stretching across his face and was apparent even in the shadows that embraced them. That swath of delicate pink nearly had Fane cracking, breathing out a steadying sigh through his nose instead. Damn anything that was holy, if poison didn’t kill him, this endearing, foolish elf would. How could he be so blind when responses like that reaffirmed where his sky’s heart lay?

“Sorry, it’s just..”, Fane started before letting out a tiny laugh, massaging his cheekbones in slow circles. “You looked so ashamed by how you felt, even though I just said I felt the same way. If anything, I should feel ashamed because I’m jealous of someone far more innocent than these Orlesian pricks.”

Solas tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “May I know who you were jealous of?”, he inquired.

Fane let out an airy laugh, kneading his brow with two fingers. “The servant girl that just left not even five minutes ago.”, he admitted, face growing hot with shame and embarrassment. He was such a fool. A pathetic, blind fool.

“The servant--?”, Solas began before letting out a quiet, breathless laugh of his own. “Ma’isenatha, you are aware that we are at court, at the heart of Orlais, yes? Appearing gentile and cordial is but a step in a very specific dance. My reactions to her were equal parts genuine and fluid, and I felt nothing beyond that.”

Fane huffed, letting his hand fall to his side. “I know, but it’s like you said, just the sight of another making reaches for someone you fought for, someone you adore and respect is infuriating. I just got you back and to have it taken away again is--”, he tried to explain, lifting his hand back up to rub at his face again. “Fenhedis lasa. A fucking smile sent my mind spiraling. Ridiculous..”

---

Halamshiral was fun! :D

16. Do they enjoy dancing?

Fane is the guy who stands in a dark corner at parties, and glares at everyone who tries to get too close, soooo...no. PFFFT!

However, if it were just he and Solas in their quarters, a light of levity possessing them, then he might be willing to let the other teach him steps that weren't able to be done by massive claws. The Winter Palace is the one time Fane takes the initiative and actively offers Solas his hand for a dance--all grace and poise unlike that of a dragon.

...The finery didn't fall fast enough that night for Solas. *is SLAPPED*

And I like to think Solas secretly yearns for such simple pleasures as a waltz or ginger circle, swaying to the music, time seeming endless once more. He misses what was before, and maybe just a tiny step can make him feel a little less lost. :3

53. Who is the better dancer?

Solas. 100%.

Fane is graceful in battle, able to shift his weight and glide with the flow of blood and chaos. But the more delicate arts--that of dancing? Yeah, no. My boy's prone to step on someone's toes and curse for them because 'A dragon? Dancing at court? Void take me..' Vivienne and Josephine had to let Solas teach Fane how to dance because he was so against the idea that he would lock himself in their quarters and refuse to entertain the two women. Solas has a hard time, but with Leliana's help, they manage to get Fane to see he does have a certain knack for the finer things. *winks*

Honestly, Solas is shocked at the Winter Palace when he sees Fane dancing with the Duchess because...he moved as if from memory, and not the one's of stumbling, cursing, and heavy sighing as legs tripped up and toes were stomped on.

Fane moved like an Evanuris--those attuned to the ancient courts with a charming smile in place to match. *sips my tea* Exquisite~

91. What is their song?

So, if I do like the implications that 'Once We Were' gives, and Solas and Fane like more gentle songs like that.

But me, personally? I adore 'Red Like Roses' from RWBY for these two. It just hits a lot of key points for me about them, but I seriously have to get a playlist together since so many songs make me thing of these two. 'Bad Habits' by Ed Sheeran is one that makes me think of them, too. Mainly Fane, but some parts fit for them together. *urge to compose a playlist intensifies*

Thank you so much for the ask, my friend! These were a lot of fun ones! But then again, all of them are! X3

#asks #ask #oc: fane lavellan #solas #solavellan #dragon age #ngl i'm getting antsy to divulge EVERYTHING with fane #fanfic or no! XD #but i must be STRONG *shakes fist*#*starts to hum 'once we were'*#i love the tavern songs so much ;3;#solas aka mr. old man worry X'D #thank you so much again! <3

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yourdeepestfathoms · 3 years

Text

The Grey Palace

So this a book I’m really hoping to actually finish! It’s a horror slasher story, but it’s set on a cruise ship. I’m posting the first chapter for my followers to read if they’re interested in following along with the creation and storyline! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

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

A sleek grey seagull was perched on the wooden guard rail around the churning green ocean. It shifted from foot to pink foot, ruffling unruly feathers, and squinted beady black eyes up at the giant ship looming above it. It looked suspicious of the vessel, and even more suspicious of the people boarding its mass.

The Grey Palace was the greatest cruise ship to ever exist--or so all the Yelp reviews claimed. It included casinos and spas and waterparks and food! But only if you pay for it, because it’s not like you already paid $425 for a single ticket for your four person family.

It was a colossal sea beast, made out of the finest and toughest extra-strength steel plates and boasting the largest size of a cruise ship in the whole world at a staggering 1,854.25 feet in length and 265.74 feet in height. It had a tonnage of 230,000 gross tons, outweighing every other ship in the business. Its hull could shatter icebergs, its bow could split the sea in two, its propellers were more powerful than any jet or rocket in the entire world. Luxurious lounges and steamy spas promised the best relaxation, the waterpark and Kid’s Club proclaimed full entertainment for children, and the restaurants provided the best food on the seven seas. It got its name from the lustrous grey color it was painted, reflecting rainbows all across the body of the ship.

Everybody wanted to board the floating Palace, and only a select few got the invitation into the Aquatic Kingdom.

But in this case, a “select few” meant 8,700 people.

The boarding dock was clamored with passengers. Families that made the mistake of keeping their luggage on them instead of turning it in to the porters, families that trying to keep all their kids from running off, families already bickering over what they were going to do first, all packed into one area that was treacherously close to the ocean and a giant ship that would easily be able to sweep a fallen victim underneath its mass. One woman had her toddler on a child leash like it was a dog, tugging on the rope every once and awhile when the kid tried to run off. Another mom was herding her family in close to take a selfie, earning disgruntled noises from the children when they had to squint and smile up into the sun. A man was loudly talking to a video camera he was holding, most likely making a vlog for YouTube that would only probably get 67,000 views and 1,230 likes. Worryingly close to the edge of the dock was a pair of kids, pointing into the water and calling out what they saw while their parents obliviously chatted with some other people. Several porters were furiously helping everyone board, sweat beading their brows as they worked diligently.

The seagull watched them all, raising its beak in a haughty manner. It seemed miffed by the intrusion of so many humans in its territory, but didn’t have the strength or size to do anything about it, so it just gazed judgmentally from a distance. Its dark eyes shifted over to the girl looking back at it, then screeched in surprise when she was shoved, jerking open its narrow wings and leaping away into the air.

“Come ON, Violet!!” Ethan shrieked.

Violet staggered to the side, nearly tottering into someone behind her while she attempted to regain her balance. She clenched her fists, growling softly in her throat for a moment before letting her anger dissolve away.

“I’m coming,” She said.

“You’re being SLOWWWW!!” Aiden yelled, earning a few glances from other people because of his volume.

“Sorry,” Violet muttered, hunching her shoulders in.

Her family bustled across the port, getting closer and closer to the gangway with each, but before they could cross the threshold, a ship photographer jumped into their path, wearing a painfully cheery grin and brandishing a bulky camera.

“Would you like to take a family photo before boarding?” She asked, waving an arm to a photobooth set up. The backdrop was of The Grey Palace sailing.

“Can we, Mama?” Felicity asked Deandra eagerly, tugging at her arm.

Deandra smiled down at her. “Of course, dear!”

They hustled over to the backdrop. Violet attempted to follow, but Tobias stood in her path and firmly said, “Not you.”

Violet backed away obediently, not bothering to argue.

She watched as the seven of them posed for a photo, the epitome of a white, rich family. Deandra was fifty-four, but she was constantly being praised for how good she looked for her age. Unblemished, glowing ivory skin, clear of any wrinkles, and dyed champagne blonde hair. Her neck and wrists were loaded with jewelry, but her hawk-like amber eyes were sharper and brighter than the diamonds she wore, always locating every one of Violet’s flaws.

Tobias was like her toy, even though he was older, bigger, and burlier than she was. He was as nicely dressed as his wife, clad in a tweed jacket despite the summer Whittier heat and expensive jeans and a gold watch that cost more than all their tickets combined, but he still had the face of a lizard, dull blue eyes, and brittle, greying hair that he would slather with enough gel to start a fire. But he was rich, being one of the top congressmen in the state, and had a sharp-tongue that pleased Mother, both audibly and physically, and was very easy to walk all over. Violet guessed that was why Mother even kept him around.

Carly was their pride and joy. She had a supermodel body, thin and tan, with long, luscious blonde hair and the bright blue eyes of Father. She was pretty, but cruel, like a diamond wrapped in barbed wire. Her words were always loaded with venom, manipulative and cunning and bearing no mercy or guilt over what she said. She was harsh and cold, which was probably why she still wasn’t married at twenty-seven, and when Violet told her this after her favorite paints were stolen, she beat her into unconsciousness. Violet still had the long, winding scar across her left side from when she had been lashed with the sharp edge of a broken flower vase.

Tobias Jr., or just Toby, was the exact opposite of the man he was named after. Out of all her siblings, he was Violet’s favorite. He was a coward and a boot-licker, but he was genuine and had a good heart. He got Violet into The Walking Dead and once cleaned off her back when Father whipped her with his belt after she talked back over something controversial, but provided little help against her mistreatment, being just as scared to stand up to their parents. Still, it was a step up over everyone else. His dark amber eyes were doe-like and his brown hair was always unruly no matter how much he brushed it. In a way, he almost reminded Violet of the seagull, watchful and cautious.

Felicity was Mother’s mini me and Father’s little princess. Her wavy hair showed the natural hue of Mother’s, honey blonde, but her eyes were the deep blue of Father’s. She was incredibly slick and deceptive, as well as exceptionally greedy, always able to get whatever she wants whenever she wants it. She was dripping with as much jewelry as Mother was, maybe even more, and looked at everyone else with great disdain, disgusted at how ugly they were compared to her. Her voice was like the squeal of a pig, and she often preened herself in any reflective surface that could serve as a mirror. At age eleven, she already thought she was the queen of the world.

Aiden and Ethan were nothing but imps. Violet didn’t even know why Mother and Father had them; there was no point in their existence. They just lived to take up space and time and money, but their parents treated them like they were heirs to the throne. They were near identical, with dirty blonde hair in a mushroom-like shape around their heads and eyes so dark they looked brown instead of amber. All they seemed to know how to do was eat food and cause chaos, often forcing themselves into Violet’s personal space just to annoy her.

That was the Nicotero family. The rich, flawless Nicotero family, perfectly happy without the illegitimate child chained to them by blood.

Violet, the kid who the congressman cheated on his wife to have on accident, named after a flower because her father couldn’t think of anything better than the plant he saw squashed on the side of the sidewalk when he was fleeing the scene after stealing her from her mother’s breast mere days after being born.

Violet, the girl with weirdly pale grey eyes that no one else in her family had and hands that never seemed to stop fidgeting with things and an overly anxious mind that contrasted with a bursting internal temper.

Violet, the library for all the should have’s-could have’s-would have’s, an encyclopedia of everything that shouldn’t have happened, an example of what her siblings were not supposed to be.

Violet, the fifteen-year-old with vibrant petals curled towards her family, but poisonous roots lying beneath, just like her name’s sake.

“Say ‘cruise ship’!”

“CRUISE SHIP!!!”

The camera flashed and the photo was taken.

Violet blinked her eyes; they were sore in the sunlight. She shifted from foot to foot as she waited for her family to finish up at the photobooth. She wondered if they would put it on the fridge like all the other photographs she wasn’t a part of. They never put up the things she was in.

“Come on! Come on! Come on!” Felicity yipped, pulling on Father’s arm. “I wanna get on already!!!”

“We’re coming, we’re coming,” Father chuckled. He somehow had all the patience in the world when dealing with the squealing Felicity, but once yelled at Violet for taking too long to tie her shoes.

The Nicotero family pushed their way through the crowd to the closest gangway, shoulder checking other people and trodding over feet without pity in the process. Violet did her best to apologize to anyone they disturbed, seeing as no one else was, so she walked down the walkway and glass doors slightly turned around, and when she faced forward again, she got her first glimpse of the place where she would be spending the next one hundred days.

The main atrium was a giant room with a high-vaulted ceiling and looked like it had been carved out of glass; every surface was shiny and spotless. There were spiral staircases and grand steps and visible catwalks coiled around the walls, all bursting with activity. A marble fountain with intricately designed leaping dolphins was burbling softly in the center of the room, and King the Silver Polar Bear, the mascot of The Grey Palace, was standing in front of it, waving to passengers as they came in and occasionally taking photos with kids who came up to him. Violet must have been staring for a bit too long because he spotted her and pointed, then waved her over. Violet shook her head and said, “No thanks” but Felicity shoved her over with a shrill, “Go say hi, Violet! Someone actually wants to see you!”

Violet staggered forward, feeling that sensation of rage bubble up inside of her again, but, like before, it dissipated rather quickly, as there was nothing she could do. She merely sighed and looked up at the large grey bear now looming over her.

“Umm… Hi.” Violet said awkwardly. What were you even supposed to say to the mascots? Especially when you have to talk to them against your will?

King waved cheerfully. The head of the suit was set in a petrified, open-mouth smile and the eyes were permanently wide and glowing with glee. It was almost unnerving in a way. Was the person underneath the mass of grey fur as happy as the skin it was wearing?

“Uhh… Sorry, I don’t really know what to say.” Violet said, cringing internally. Her cheeks felt like they were on fire.

King made a dismissive hand gesture, then pat her head. The action felt profoundly awkward, but Violet was polite and said goodbye before shuffling back over to her family with her head ducked. Felicity and the twins exploded into high-pitched giggles.

“Violet. Don’t run off.” Mother said sharply, staring down her nose as Violet.

“Yes, Mother,” Violet muttered.

Carly suddenly looked up from her phone. “We should go get drinks. The rooms probably aren’t ready yet.”

Mother nodded. “Good idea.”

She led the pack through a wide hallway, whisking by other passengers like she was the queen of the Aquatic Kingdom. On the way, Toby shuffled over to Violet.

“I don’t like those people in costumes,” He said. “Gives me the creeps.”

Violet peered up at him. “How old are you?”

“Oi! Rude!” Toby elbowed her gently. He never tried to purposely hurt her. “So… What do you think?”

Violet gazed around the hallway. It was lit up brightly, casting colorful shadows across the painted walls.

“It’s nice,” Violet said. “Nicer than any place I’ve been to. Aside from the house, of course.”

She had been shocked when Mother told her about the cruise a week before her freshman year ended. It was going to be a big family trip, and she was actually invited. Usually she was left out of these things. Being alone at their mansion for a week or so at a time while the rest of her family was out travelling or on vacation had been a normal affair ever since she was eleven.

Toby frowned for a moment at that, then quickly said, “It’s gonna be fun.”

They passed through a set of glass doors and entered onto one of the many decks. Surprisingly, there weren’t too many people out yet, as everyone was probably still getting checked in or exploring. Mother glided over to a canopy bar and began ordering.

They probably spent an hour at that bar, sipping brightly colored cocktails and chatting avidly over their plans for the trip. Violet stayed out of it, of course. She sat at the smooth wooden counter, twirling a pink drink umbrella and scrawling mindless thoughts in a small purple notebook to pass the time.

An elbow as pointy as a dagger jabbed into her back at one point, making her pen streak across her page, leaving a permanent black like through the written words. She clenched her jaw and turned around.

“Yes?”

“Come ON!” Felicity said. “We’re going to go eat!”

“Didn’t you hear us talking?” Father squinted at her.

“Sorry. I must have dozed off.” Violet said.

Carly scoffed. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

Nobody said anything against this. Violet didn’t, either.

They went to the buffet where lunch was waiting, and Mother grumbled about how many people there were, but they eventually sat down to eat, their plates piled with food. Violet got more than she intended, but ate everything, just now realizing how hungry she was. She got judgemental looks from her family, but she did her best to just ignore them.

After lunch, they finally checked into their cabins. They got the suites, of course.

Mother, Father, and the twins got the largest room, one with a queen bed and bunk beds for Aiden and Ethan. Carly and Felicity room together, while Violet stayed with Toby. It was fine with her, really. She rather be with her older brother than any of the others.

The rest of the day was spent preparing for the trip. Toby took the twins and Felicity to get signed up for the Kid’s Club, while Carly hooked up with some friends also on the cruise, Mother went to make reservations for the spa, and Father already began drinking.

Violet stayed in her cabin, writing away in her notepad while listening to the TV drone on. She finally got up and went out when the sun began to set, unknowingly stumbling right into a departure party on the main deck.

Music blasted as thousands of bodies writhed around together. Several people were in the pool, splashing around loudly, while others were watching the entertainment shows with great interest. Violet couldn’t stand all the noise, so she ventured to the back of the ship and watched as the land slowly disappeared on the horizon.

A man leaned against the railing a few feet away from her as the golden-orange sunset was starting to turn a bright red color. After he blew out a wisp of smoke from the lit cigarette he had, he said, “This is gonna be one hell of a trip.”

As the first firework was set off at the deck, Violet replied, “You can say that again.”

#the grey palace #lizzie’s dumb book #my writing #horror #horror story

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