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drarrypotterrenaissance · 1 year ago

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So Good I Could Cry

I saw this post, and knew immediately that I had to write a fic for it. This is my first fic above a T rating, so it was written in one sitting before I could lose my nerve. What follows is the softest, most gentle M-rated fic I think you can find. Additionally, I am very ace, and thought that I was writing Harry as allosexual, until Vukovich told me how much ace Harry came through in this fic, so please take a moment to laugh at my naïvety and then to thank @vukovich for being a wonderful beta reader and for ensuring that I tagged this properly 💜

Words: 1,828 Rating: Mature Summary: There was a tumblr post asking who in your ship cries during sex, and I knew my answer immediately - Harry cries during, and Draco cries afterwards in secret. Read on ao3 here

It’s all so good. Everything has been so good, for months now, that Harry can’t really figure out why it took so long for him to finally ask Draco out. He can’t figure out why multiple years of amazing friendship didn’t turn into dating and kissing sooner, not when it only took him six months to realise that his feelings for Draco weren’t just platonic. He can’t figure out why it took them so long to get here, but he’s beyond glad that they finally have.

Harry’s lost count of how many dates they’ve gone on (although Draco probably knows; he’s obsessive like that, and Harry loves that he knows that about him), or how many times they’ve kissed, or how many scorching looks Draco has given him from the other side of the room. They’ve been taking things slowly, per Draco’s wishes, although Harry hasn’t minded, and has, in fact, been delighted to watch Draco open up to him even more with every dinner and every kiss, like a flower opening so slowly into the morning sun.

Now, though, they’re here, in Harry’s bed with Draco pink-cheeked and sweaty over him, for the very first time. And it’s so good, just like everything else, just like Harry knew it would be, because it’s Draco here with him. Draco’s nerves have dissipated, and he’s radiant, leaning down to kiss Harry, making soft little noises that Harry could listen to forever, beaming and laughing, pressing his eyes shut even as his mouth falls open. There’s a strand of hair that’s come free from its queue, falling alongside Draco’s flushed cheeks, and Harry is overjoyed to watch it sway back and forth, curling up into a gentle ringlet, because that means that Draco must secretly straighten his hair, and Harry knows this now, an intimate little secret to discover even in the midst of this intimate act itself. They’ve been together for so long tonight that Draco’s hair straightening charms have worn off, and he’s comfortable enough with Harry that he hasn’t bothered to refresh them, and now Harry gets to know that there’s a wave to Draco Malfoy’s pin-straight hair, and no one else gets to have that secret.

He reaches a hand up and twirls a finger through Draco’s hair, then cups his face to simply admire him for a moment. Harry doesn’t think that anyone could ever really look attractive during sex. It’s too sweaty and red-faced and slightly gross for anyone to actually look hot the whole way through, but Draco right now is so lovely, so captivatingly beautiful, both for his red-flushed, sweaty face and for how open he is in this moment of vulnerability.

“I love you,” Harry says, before he can stop himself. He’s said it before, a few times, and he’s certain that Draco feels the same way, even if he hasn’t said it back yet. Still, Harry hadn’t wanted to pressure him right now, hadn’t wanted to risk making Draco think that he had to say it back to him at this moment because of everything else. Draco beams, though, and kisses him fiercely, and somewhere in the middle, Harry tips over into ecstasy, coming back to himself moments later with tears wet on his cheeks and more still streaming from his eyes.

They kiss some more after, and then just hold each other close, drifting in and out of sleep for a while. Draco doesn’t say anything about the tears that took a few minutes to stop, although Harry thinks he’d be well within his rights to. Honestly, who cries during sex because their boyfriend secretly has curly hair? Instead, Draco just kisses him, and runs his thumbs under Harry’s eyes to wipe away the tears, and kisses him again while fresh ones appear.

When Harry wakes up an unknown amount of time later, he can still feel the salt, tacky on his cheeks. He passes a hand over his eyes, then scrubs it across his face, before reaching out to pull Draco close to him once more. His hand meets nothing but empty sheets, still warm from Draco’s body, but rapidly cooling. And Harry knows, because he knows Draco, that he’ll be back soon. He hasn’t gone far, nor has he gone for good, and Harry is sure of it even before he sees the light shining from under the ensuite door. If Harry could be patient for two minutes, Draco would surely return to him, eager to reclaim his place next to Harry in their warm bed, and to press his always freezing toes in between Harry’s legs. But Harry’s in love with him, and everything is so good when they’re together, and he doesn’t want to be separated even for the next two minutes, and so he gets up and pads over to the bathroom door, knocking gently to preserve the quiet of the pre-dawn stillness.

“Draco?”

There’s no answer, but Harry can hear the sink running, so he pushes the door open a crack and says Draco’s name again, sees his bare back stiffen slightly at the sound of Harry’s voice. He splashes water on his face once, then turns around with a towel pressed to his cheeks, patting himself dry even as Harry steps into his space and puts his hands gently around Draco’s waist. Draco leans into the touch, but doesn’t respond in kind, continuing to dry his face, the towel now an obstacle, keeping Harry from kissing him like he so desperately wants to. Instead, Harry slips his pinkies into the waistband of the boxers Draco has put back on, and gently smooths his thumbs up and down Draco’s sides.

“Hi,” he says, still making an effort to be quiet for no reason.

“Hello,” Draco whispers back, the towel still obscuring his face and muffing his voice slightly.

“Is everything alright?” Harry gives one of Draco’s hips a gentle squeeze, and Draco sways slightly into his hand.

Draco nods, but doesn’t say anything, and the towel is still hiding his face, which means Harry is forced to judge by Draco’s stiff shoulders how much of a lie his nod was. Harry slowly pulls the towel down, revealing Draco much as he was only an hour before; his face is red and blotchy, his hair is mussed, and his eyes are closed. Unlike before though, his face is now wet with tears instead of perspiration, and Harry feels a stab of pain go through his heart at the idea that something is marring this perfect night for Draco.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, moving his hands to cup Draco’s face, almost able to see the same motion echoed between them from earlier in the evening.

Draco shakes his head, and another tear falls to meet Harry’s thumb before being wiped away.

“Nothing. I’m fine, truly I am. I don’t know why I’m crying.”

Harry wipes away another tear and tilts Draco’s chin up gently until he meets his eyes. He can’t quite parse the emotions that he sees going across Draco’s face, but he can understand, at least in part, how Draco must be feeling. Tonight was a big step for both of them, their first time together, but it was Draco’s first time ever, and Harry feels like his chest might burst with love for Draco for letting him share this moment with him. Some of that must be reflected on his own face, because Draco gives him a watery little smile and tries again to explain.

“I’m fine, it’s just…” ‘A lot’ finishes Draco’s voice in Harry’s head, but he remains silent and gives Draco the chance to say the words for himself. “A lot,” he says, with another small smile, and then his lower lip begins to quaver again. “It’s all been really good!” he hastens to add. “And I’m fine!” he says, more tears splashing down his face. “It’s just a lot, all at once.”

Harry nods his head, wipes Draco’s tears, and kisses him. It’s not one of their best kisses, Draco sniffles in the middle of it, and Harry’s pretty sure that there’s snot in his mouth, but it’s still absolutely perfect, because it’s the two of them standing together in the middle of Harry’s bathroom at some wretchedly early hour in the morning.

When they pull apart, Harry swipes his thumbs across Draco’s cheeks again and says, “I get it.” At Draco’s raised eyebrow - and, oh, what a joy, to see Draco’s dearly loved prickly little personality pushing through his tears - Harry reminds him, “I was crying earlier tonight, too.” He shrugs. “It can be overwhelming sometimes, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t amazing.”

Draco scrubs the towel across his face once more, then fits himself to Harry’s body, pressing his face into the spot between his neck and shoulder that he had been kissing earlier that evening. Draco’s nose presses into a tender area, and Harry thrills to consider that he might have a bruise there in the morning, and can’t wait to avoid all of Draco’s attempts to heal it with magic, instead letting it linger for days as a reminder of tonight. Maybe, he thinks nonsensically, he could even get a tattoo there, to preserve it for all eternity.

“I woke up and wanted to wash my hands,” Draco says out of nowhere, the words slightly muffled against Harry’s skin, “and when I saw myself in the mirror, I just. I don’t know. I guess I thought that maybe I would look different, afterwards. Which, I know that’s silly, but I wasn’t sure what I was expecting to see. And I couldn’t tell if I looked different or not. All I could think about was how I must have looked to you-”

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Harry interrupts, and Draco laughs a little before pressing on.

“And then I was thinking about how you looked at me, and, and, and you love me-”

“I do,” Harry says,

“-and,” Draco’s fists tighten against Harry’s back, and he can feel the material of the towel Draco is still holding move against his spine. Draco pulls back slightly, and looks Harry in the eye. He’s a bit of a mess, with his cheeks a chaotic pink and his eyelashes spiky from tears, but once again Harry is certain that he’s never seen anyone more lovely, “and, Harry, I love you too,” he says, and possibly some other words after that, but those are lost into Harry’s mouth, kissing him thoroughly before lifting him up, letting Draco wrap his legs around Harry’s waist, and carrying him back to bed.

When Harry wakes up the next morning, it’s with Draco curled around him, his face pressed against Harry’s chest, and the bathroom hand towel, which Harry now realises is the novelty Celestina Warbeck one that Draco got him as a joke, squashed under his armpit. It’s so strange, and so perfect, that Harry wants to laugh. It’s all just really good.

#drarry #drarry fic #drarry fanfiction #my fic #my writing #ace harry #asexual harry potter #virgin draco #fluff

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despairforme · 2 months ago

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Question for the mun: What's your thought on the relationship between Nnoitra and Nell? Do you hate when people ship them, considering it can be viewed as toxic in a valid way, or are you impartial to it? I'm asking cause I am looking for an active Nnoitra for my Nell and I wanna explore all the facets of their connection, including the fact that maybe they didn't always hate each other (aka not only write them going at each other's throats and insulting each other's ancestry to hell and back).

[ oH !! ( thank you for specifying that it's for me, otherwise Nnoitra for sure would've answered, I tend to let him answer all the asks we get. xD )

It's an interesting question! Because over the years, my view on them has changed quite a bit. I used to absolutely hate Nelliel, but now I actually appreciate her as a character, and find her interesting and complex. It's really fun to be able to see a character differently than you used to ( at least for me ). Because of my dislike for Nelliel, I also used to REALLY dislike the ship ( to the point where I even blacklisted the tag... ) - but now I don't mind seeing them together.

I personally don't mind toxic ships. I enjoy writing them and think it can be a very interesting dynamic to explore. With a character like Nnoitra... It's pretty difficult to get a "wholesome" ship that doesn't have any toxic attributes anyway, due to how Nnoitra is as a person.

Nnoitra and Nelliel's relationship ( this is just my opinion! ) - is complicated. I can only speak from Nnoitra's side of it, since I don't write Nelliel. Nelliel basically just treats him in the worst kind of way, which is where his hatred for her stems from. From what canon tells us, she literally follows him around to "protect" him, which makes him feel weak, and like she pities him, which is the ONE THING Nnoitra can't handle. To the point where he tries to kill himself ( canon ), but Nelliel saves him, making everything even worse. His inability to deal with her is clear from the fact that Nnoitra seeks help in order to get rid of her ( Szayel ). I can only imagine how low Nnoitra must've felt in order to go to someone he considers beneath him, and ask for assistance. That's just how desperate he is to get rid of her.

So yeah, Nnoitra really hates her in canon.

But - it didn't have to be this way. Their dynamic depends on their communication. I can't speak for Nelliel's motivation in the way she treats him ( different Nelliel writers I've written with over the years have had different takes on this, naturally ). Is she simply unaware of how she makes him feel? Or, does she do it on purpose in a villain-sort-of-way, or maybe she just doesn't care about his feelings one way or the other?

It would take very little for their relationship to change, if Nelliel just changed her approach to him slightly. Hearing that she respects him as a warrior would mean everything to him.

So, did Nnoitra always hate her? If she always treated him the same way, then yes, and as long as she keeps treating him like she does in canon - he will continue to hate her.

This is just my take on it though, and what's relevant for the way I portray Nnoitra. I'd absolutely love to write with your Nelliel and explore their dynamic! There are, as far as I know, two (?) other Nnoitra writers around, and they are really good, so you have plenty of options! uvu// But again, I'd love to explore! Thank you for taking the time to send me this and for your interest! ]

#[ thank you for sending! ]#[ THIS GOT LONG ]#[ i'm bad at gathering my thoughts xD ]#[ this is probably why i always answer stuff ic instead ahaha ]#[ BUT I TRIED i hope it makes sense xD ]#toby post. ╱ out of character.#longpost //#[ not sure if it's long but i usually don't post this much ooc content xD ]

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the-bar-sinister · 11 months ago

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Deicide (5677 words) by VickytheSnake, thesavagesabretooth

catch up here Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Rewrite, Wano Arc (One Piece) Spoilers, Possession, straw hat pirates polycule, Action/Adventure, Power of Friendship, Established Relationship, Kaidou Lives, basil hawkins lives, caesar clown joins the straw hats, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change

Summary: Realizing something is very, very wrong after the fight with Kaidou, Luffy seeks out Robin for comfort and advice. What he tells her is unsettling.

Luffy is hearing the voice of a god, and he wants it out of his head.

King had only been half conscious when Zoro had grabbed him by the throat, eyes blazing.

"The captain says you need to leave. Take Kaidou and your men and go, and never come back to this country."

It was a demand from the victor, an edict from the strong to the beaten. His memory was muddled, most of the way their battle ended told through the lingering pain in slowly mending wounds rather than firm memory.

He’d laughed, breath rasping from his bloodied lips as the swordsman’s fingers tightened around his throat. It was the law of the jungle– he’d said as much when the swordsman finally dropped him. They were beaten, and they would listen.

Wano’s future was in the hands of the victors. As he watched the man’s retreating back, he’d thanked him for the honorable fight and wished him luck on his path following the man he wished to be King of the Pirates.

He’d done as he was commanded. He gathered up the beaten remnants of their crew and the bodies of those Wano wouldn’t respect in their deaths. He’d carried the man who saved him all those years ago in his arms to the ship himself. His captain. His inspiration, the man who gave him purpose.

As the ship of corpses and broken beasts sailed into the rising sun, he kept his eye on Kaidou’s sleeping form.

It still felt like a terrible dream that they’d lost. Something unreal in the haze of pain-clouded memory– like his life before the labs and Government scientists.

Dawn was blooming on the horizon behind them as they sailed away from Wano, but it was not their dawn. It was the dawn for those who had beaten them.

Kaidou lay there on the hastily prepared cot, his slumbering human form so much smaller than his half-dragon form he'd spent so much time in. Despite his nearly 14 feet of height, he looked fragile this way. Vulnerable.

King never left his side, watching him sleep with a protective ruffle of his feathers and a blaze of the flames over his back. As the Beast Pirates ensured the ship sailed on, as Ulti and Page One organized the last of their forces and took stock of the damages, he ensured his captain lived to see the dawn of their own.

His fingers lingered over the 20 year old scar on his body as he leaned down to touch him. They’d never return to Wano— no matter how much it’d been Kaidou’s homeland. It seemed the two of them now had yet another thing in common.

Basil woke up to the comforting and familiar smell of incense. He hadn't been expecting to wake up to anything at all.

The cards had spoken before that fateful night. A looming percentage of death that hung over his head as the Beast Pirates drank and celebrated the victory that wouldn’t ever come. 99% chance of death– and a 1% chance of survival. It was a fool’s odds in a game he had no choice but to play.

The last thing he remembered was the shock of pain as his arm severed from his shoulder, and the pain of hitting the burning ground before darkness blissfully took him.

“A 1% chance…” he murmured as he took a deep breath of incense. “How absolutely amazing.”

"Finally awake, huh?" A looming shadow filled in the doorway of the small, quiet room that Basil found himself in.

The voice was familiar. Captain Eustass Kid.

“Miraculously, it would seem I am indeed.” Basil tried to push himself up with an arm he realized simply was not there. Just the tingling presence of nothing in the place of flesh, nerves and bones.

Instead he laid there, looking towards the shape in the doorway with bleary eyes. “Fate was certainly in your favor, wasn’t it, Captain Kid.”

"Not a big believer in fate, admittedly." The rival captain strode from the doorway closer to the bed where Basil was laying, and he sat down beside it with his legs crossed. "Numbers weren't in our favor, that's for sure."

“And yet.” Basil closed his eyes with a tired smile. “You pulled it off quite admirably. Snatching victory from the jaws of causality. I’d applaud you, but I’m afraid I’ve been rather disarmed!”

The sound he made wasn’t even close to a laugh. It was choked.

Kid's glance flicked to the bandaged stump of an arm. He touched his own. "I know the feeling."

“Heh.” Basil shifted painfully with his other elbow, enough to sit up and look at him through the pale fringes of his hair. “I can imagine you do…my folly in thinking you were simply wearing makeshift armor.”

His expression sobered when he briefly met Kid’s eyes.

“I don’t know how, or why I am here.”

"You're here because Killer brought you to me after you passed out," Eustass said. "Through the fire of the waning battle, the wound he carved tied with his own shirt."

“Oh…” Basil murmured quietly. The one percent chance of his life carrying on through another day turned out to be due to the very man who nearly ended it.

“I’ll have to thank him some time soon,” he smiled stiffly. “...the Beast Pirates would have left a defeated foe to drown in the pool of their own blood.”

Eustass nodded. "Killer's a man. Not a beast. How about you?"

“A man or a beast?” Basil chuckled raspily. “I’m a curse doll.”

Straw snaked its way over his bandaged stump, causing him to hiss softly as it began winding around itself

“...I was never cut out to be a beast, admittedly.” He closed his eyes “Kaidou offered me but one choice after he killed my crew. An attempt to make a man into a beast– though I’d say he’s certainly failed.”

"You were coerced, then." Kid's tone was even. "A choice against your life's not really a choice."

Basil nodded slowly as the straw wound its way down into the approximation of an arm and fingers tipped in sharpened metal nails.

“It was join him as one of his agents, or die. Apoo led us into quite the trap, Eustass.”

"I'm hoping to still find a way to make him pay for it. There's plenty he owes me." He grimaced, showing teeth, and Basil could tell he was angry. That anger, thankfully, seemed not to be directed at him. "How about you?"

“I’d like to tear him apart, if I’m to speak plainly.” Basil pushed himself up with his straw hand, the nails scraping softly against the sheets, “for treating our alliance so frivolously, and for rigging the game so there was nothing to it but to lose.”

"We're of one mind on that, then." Kid nodded. "Interested in pursuing a mutual goal?"

Basil lifted his straw hand, holding it out towards Kid with a grim smile set under his dark and serious eyes.

“I’m willing…eager… to see where the strands of chaos lead us, Captain Kid…so long as you’ll accept giving me that second chance.”

Kid held out his iron scrap arm in return. "You're down a crew, Hawkins. Will you sail under my flag?"

Basil’s ship was sunk to the bottom of the ocean, his crew buried in Wano soil. He grabbed Kid’s makeshift hand with the makeshift hand of his own, and the phantom sensation of fingers clenching shot through the bandaged stump below’s raw nerves.

“It’s as good a flag as I’ve seen. If it means we’ll strike out against Apoo…and if it means we’ll see the One Piece with our own eyes– I”ll sail under it gladly.”

He smiled thinly, a determined look in his often somber eyes “Captain.”

Metal fingers squeezed straw.

"Welcome aboard."

Law had heard that Luffy passed out basically right after he had bested Kaidou– leaving the rest of them to clean up the mess and the chaos for three days by that point.

Onigashima was in the literal damned ocean, and salvage operations were underway to grab important scrolls and tools before they were forever lost. Kaidou was running off with his tail between his legs. The Red Scabbards were left alternatively purposeless and bound to their new lord–and Law had spent the last three days running from bedside patient to bedside patient.

The countless wounded on both sides demanded his and Chopper’s attention as doctors while Luffy snoozed away.

Doctor privilege meant he was informed right away when Luffy did wake up– but he also knew that he'd be scarfing down food and surrounded by the Straw Hats for who knew how long.

With that massive crew of his, which somehow kept getting bigger every time he fucking blinked, he was sure he wouldn’t get a word in edge wise with him until they’d gotten their fill of doting on their charming captain.

So Law contented himself with waiting, spending a little time wandering the streets of Wano.

As he passed by a dango cart, a familiar croaking and faux-seductive voice rang in his ears.

"Well look who it is! And here I didn't think you were ever going to take a break."

Caesar Clown turned to face him, coat billowing, little smoked glasses perched in his nose. Despite his words, Caesar, who was for some godforsaken reason still traveling with the Straw Hats had been seeing to patients right alongside Law for most of the past three days– albeit bitching loudly about it the entire time.

“Morning, Clownass.” Law raised his hand in greeting. “I take breaks, you know. Just not as often as some people I could mention.”

It was a lie. He hardly ever took breaks.

"As often meaning 'ever'," Caesar sneered, snapping down a dumpling from the stick he was eating from. "What's the occasion?"

Law strolled over with his hands folded under his long and billowing sleeves as the ghost of a grin crossed his face. “Buy me some of those dango and maybe I’ll tell you, Caesar. Maybe.”

"I didn't realize you were looking for a sugar daddy," Caesar drawled back with an over-broad grin. Before Law could protest, money had already changed hands, and he was brandishing a skewer of the treats at him.

Law turned a deep red as he snatched the dango from his hand with a sharp hiss.

“Oh you think you’re a real comedian, dontcha, Clown?” He sniffed and bit one of the dango off the skewer with a huff “Luffy’s awake. I thought you’d know since apparently he’s your captain now.”

"Apparently!" Caesar laughed. He pushed his glasses up. "So he's awake, huh? And here I thought he'd make it a full week in that little coma of his. I'm very impressed by his propensity for sloth you know."

“He’s a man who enjoys his sins, I’ve noticed.” Law snorted a fond laugh. “And after a fight like that? I thought he’d be down for a week too. But no. He turns into something…strange…passes out, and gets up three days later eating Wano out of house and home.”

Caesar blotted his overly voluptuous mouth with a handkerchief and nodded, looking thoughtful, and possibly amused. "Well I imagine he'd eat Wano out of house and home no matter what– but that was certainly a strange phenomenon, wouldn't you say?"

“Like nothin’ I’ve ever seen before.” Law finished off his dango and tossed the stick up and down with a furrow of his brow “I’ve never seen a Paramythia fruit manifest quite like that before. Obviously awakening a power does a lot but that was…I dunno. Odd.”

Law glanced at Caesar Clown with a dubious stare. Somehow he still couldn’t believe that not only did Luffy take one look at this guy post kidnapping attempt and decide to drag him around…but he couldn’t believe Caesar Clown…one of MADS old researchers, and Doflamingo’s former business partner would content himself with traveling around with the lot of them.

It was fucking weird.

Weirder still perhaps was Caesar's seemingly absolute commitment to acting like absolutely nothing hostile or even strained had even happened between them– either the Straw Hats or Law. If it came up, he laughed it off like it was a petty argument over drinks, and kept on with whatever conversational tangent took his fancy.

"Yes, exactly. Awakening a paramythia should only act on the space outside the body." Caesar chewed on one of his long, black-laquered nails. "The only time you see that type of personal transformation is with a zoan type."

“Stop that, you know where they’ve been.” Law snorted as he twisted his hand to the side…and a fresh dango stick appeared in the place of his empty skewer, which he handed to Caesar after tossing a handful of coins on the startled vendor’s cart.

“But yeah. Only Zoan awakenings completely change the body like that. Don’t get me wrong, Luffy’s been doing fucked up shit to his body this whole time– increasing his blood pressure, that one where he enhances his limbs and coats them with haki– but this was a full on transformation.”

Caesar made a face, lips twisting as Law called out his dirty habit, and he buffed his nails on his coat, taking the dango in the other hand.

"Yes, it was more than just a physical trick. That blood pressure thing is probably going to kill him one day, you know, I've warned him," he shook off the distracted tangent and nibbled on his fresh dango before returning to the question at hand. "I wish I had a sample from last night. You didn't find any shed hair or anything? No, it'd all be at the bottom of the sea now, wouldn't it…"

“Trust me, I have too.” Law smirked before it dropped away. He paced with his hand on his chin. “any evidence of whatever the hell that was went away with Onigashima, Clown. And frankly, it might have dissipated when his body returned to normal. Turned back into his regular hair.”

Caesar stood up from his seat at the cart and followed Law's pacing, his lips twisted in a displeased grimace. "Possibly, possibly. But we can't know for sure, can we."

“Not unless he does it again. Or he’s got some hair on his shirt.” He put his fingers to his chin “...but I’m gonna be honest with you, Clown.”

"Fascinating new strategy from you, Trafalgar, color me intrigued."

Law briefly thought about chopping Caesar’s head off and carrying it around to listen to him flap his gums. The joys of the Op-Op fruit made non-fatal acts of vengeance a snap.

“Ha ha. But something seemed wrong with Luffy. You’ve known him a bit now, haven’t you? Didn’t he seem a little…”

Unhinged. Overzealous? Not his usual kind of intense.

"A little completely out of his mind?" Caesar finished. "Yes, absolutely. And not the way our deeeear caaaaptain is usually out of his mind. There's something fishy going on."

Law snorted into his hand, before his expression sobered. “Absolutely out of his mind. That ain’t the man I’ve gotten to know. It wasn’t. If I didn’t know any better I’d say it was one of those situations where a zoan devil fruit overwrites who you are…but the Gum-Gum fruit’s paramythia. It’s well documented, ain’t it?”

Caesar rubbed his chin. "Well enough documented. Of course that's even supposing it was the Gum-Gum fruit that the little freak shoved down his gullet, isn't it?"

“...” Law’s lips tightened. “..it turns him to rubber, don’t it? I mean that’s pretty obvious,right? What else could it be?”

Caesar threw up his hands dramatically. "I don't know– do you know? There are plenty of things that could imitate rubber, and both of us know that every fruit out there has not been documented. For all we know he could have eaten a zoan fruit with the properties of some horrific undiscovered stretching dog."

“Disgusting thought, Caesar. I’m deducting fifteen points from your likability score for that.” Law drawled. “..you got a point though.”

"You're damned right I do." He pointed the tip of the empty dango skewer at law. "If anyone knows how unpredictable and bizarre devil fruits can be, it's me!"

“The Gas Man?” Law drawled.

He nodded in agreement. "The gas ma– No!! The greatest scientist in the world! Do you know how much research I've done on Devil Fruits!"

Caesar stamped his foot on the ground in protest.

“Tragically, I know it well.” Law smirked as his arms crossed over his chest again, “I blew up your lab. I saw just how much Devil Fruit research was goin’ on in there for ‘Dofy’.”

"Exactly!" The skewer was pointed in his face for a moment again before Caesar cast it aside into the litter along the side of the street and rubbed his hands together. "I can figure this out. What I need are blood samples. You said he's awake?"

Law grabbed ‘the gas man’ by the shoulders.

“I sure as hell ain’t gonna let YOU be the only one taking blood from him! If you’re getting any samples at all I’m gonna be there right beside you.” He pointed one finger at him. “to make sure you don't go about any funny business on the poor bastard.”

Caesar grinned widely and put his palms on Law's chest. "Why Trafalgar! It's almost like you care! Marvelous! He'll be much easier to get blood from with someone holding his hand. Come along then."

Clown grabbed him by the wrist abruptly and moved to tug him along back down the street.

Law stumbled, his feet scuffing the ground as he stumbled into step.

“Not like that you damn freak!” he sputtered. “You’re makin’ it sound worse than it is!”

"I know, caring! Ick!" Caesar laughed uproariously. "I'm sure it's nothing that serious."

Law stared at the back of the deadly master of war crimes’ head as the two ran through the streets of Wano with an incredulous expression etched across his face.

Somehow all of a sudden he understood. He understood exactly how Caesar Clown had gotten himself adopted by the Straw Hats.

He was just as much of a chaotic freak as any of them had ever been.

#king the wildfire #kaido one piece #kaidou of the beasts #basil hawkins #eustass kid #trafalgar law #caesar clown #one piece #fanfiction #fanf fiction #fanfic #one piece fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #fic: one piece deicide

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countrymusiclover · 10 months ago

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22 - The Fire of a Best Friend

Part 23

The Last Velaryon

Tag list @rise-my-angel @cdragons @kmc1989 @starkleila

Arching my back I did my best to slow my breathing once Robb and I had finished our duty as husband and wife. Laying underneath the thick furs I ran a hand through my messy hair watching him. Robb rose from his lying position on the bed going over and began slipping his clothes back on. He hadn’t said a word to me after he had come in and said we needed to perform our duty to one another. Regardless I knew he wasn't happy with me, luckily he hadn’t found out about what me and his mother had done with Jaime yet. Finally not being able to take the uncomfortable silence I spoke up. “Is this how we're going to be from now on? We share a bed like we have romantic attachment for one another but outside the tent you pretend as if everything is fine around your men.”

“You seem to understand the plan quite clearly. I don't see a need for us to discuss it any further.” He said bending down and began tying the strings of his boots.

Moving my body more upright against the pillows I snapped back. “Robb, I don't want that kind of life with you. I love you but not the way you are currently acting like.”

“So I'm just supposed to act like everything is fine when my wife has lied to me. When I had completely allowed myself to trust you from day one of meeting you. I believed you weren’t a threat and now I can’t look at you without thinking about him.”

“Then maybe I was a fool to think you ever loved me at all.” I blurted out regretting my words that had come out of my mouth. Robb looked over his shoulder, an instant hurt showing all over his face. “Robb, I didn’t mean to say that. I just-“

The tent flap opened revealing a guard who addressed us. “My king, my queen, the Frey woman are arriving.”

“Thank you, Ser. I’ll see you later.” Robb picked his sword up from the table without another word to me. So I had no choice but to get dressed and go see the young girls I believed I could help find a husband they loved amongst our houses.

A large carriage came riding down the road coming towards the edge of the camp. The House Frey banners flapped in the wind until the carriage stopped in front of where I was standing. The door was swung open by the driver revealing the five girls I would take under my wing. Merry, who has dark brown eyes and blonde hair. Next standing beside her was Freya with hazel eyes, and blonde hair. Shifting my gaze past the two ladies, the other two joining them was Marianne and Giana. Marianne was born with light blue eyes, and long, dark curly hair while Giana has brown eyes and light brown hair that was in simple wavy curls. “You’re grace.” All the young women gave me a curtsy after they had exited the carriage.

“Before we go any further let’s get one thing straight. While we are together you don’t have to address me as your grace or my queen. I was never raised to find those tiles acceptable. I’m simply Haelesa and all of you are simply high born ladies looking for some guidance from me that I am happy to provide.”

Freya cleared her throat asking a question I didn’t expect. “Haelesa, the baby that you lost was it your husband’s?”

“I think it’s best that I answer that at a later time.”

Marianne tilted her head to the side. “Could you teach us how to ride horses?”

“Yes, that I can do.” I waved them all to follow me, ordering the guards to put all their belongings in the available tent we had prepared for them. Regardless of Robb and I having some conflict at the moment I knew I needed to focus on making these girls prepared for the world and comfortable while living in our camp.

Robb’s pov

“Have we heard anything from Lord Velaryon yet?” I asked my less bannermen that were standing around the war table with me. We needed his men and ships if we were either going to take Casterly Rock or take King's Landing from the Lannister family and their bastard children.

Lord Umber shook his head no in defeat. “Unfortunately no, my king.”

“And why not? I know I have sent out a Raven to his lordship.”

Lord Karstark mumbled under his breath. “Maybe it’s because his daughter was already wed to the Kingslayer and he doesn’t recognize you as her husband.”

“What was that, lord Karstark?” I spared a glance in his direction.

He shakes his head lying. “Nothing, your grace.”

“Alright then can someone explain to me why we haven’t heard any news from the seahorse household hmm?”

Lord Hornwood ran a hand over his thick Northern beard. “We should assume he has other priorities, my king. After all he is not a northerner. These idiots in the south aren’t loyal to the other houses like we are.”

“And that is exactly what we should be trying to change. Tywin and his entire family have too much power over the realm and that needs to end today, not tomorrow but today. Otherwise what are we really fighting for if not for freedom for ourselves and the rest of the Seven kingdoms?” Leaning my palms on the table I shifted my gaze around the room to all my northern lords all staring at me.

The tent flap got thrown opened causing everyone to turn their heads in that direction seeing Haelesa’s best friend Chezney who stood inside the doorway. “We need to talk now, Robb!”

“He is your king, my lady. Be careful with your words.” Lord Flint warned her.

She glared at me, not caring what he just said. “I need to speak with you alone this instant.”

“Watch your tongue, my lady!” Lord Flint takes a step towards her.

Raising my hand I didn’t need a fight breaking out between the pair. The lords left the room without another word simply bowing their heads at me until it was just the two of us in the room. “Leave us now. What do you need to talk with me about, Chezney?”

“You’re being an asshole to my best friend.”

Blinking my eyes I almost couldn’t believe she had just said that to my face. “Woah, I don’t think you should say that to me.”

“Oh I’m sorry, Lord Stark. What I meant to call you is a cunt who has been treating my best friend like shit since the day she had her miscarriage when you should be there supporting her!”

Hanging my mouth open I shook my head never hearing her beer speak to anyone like that before, especially me. “Chezney, are you expecting me to support her when she slept with another man when she was sleeping with the Kingslayer and never told me. I find that to be the most insulting thing to my honor and my heart.”

“This isn’t about your honor, Robb. This is about my friend who gave her heart to you and you’re just throwing it all away.” Chezney crossed her arms over her chest.

Running a hand through my messy curls I sighed. “My father was the most honorable man ever known. He even brought home his bastard son and raised it as his own.”

“Exactly and you treated him like he was your true born brother. Why can’t you give Haelesa the same treatment? If she wanted to be with Jaime she would have helped him escape and already ran off the second she found out she was pregnant. But she didn’t because she only loves you.”

Meeting her gaze I stared silently at her for a brief moment before asking my question. “What are you wanting me to do?”

“Stop treating her like a traitor and start treating her like a wife because I can see it on your face that you love her too.”

Nodding my head in agreement I moved around the table to stand in front of her knowing that she was right and that she would do anything for her friend. “I’ll do my best.”

“You’re grace, something has happened with the Kingslayer.” The tent flap got thrown opened where we shifted our gaze to him.

“What happened?”

The guard responded. “The kingslayer he escaped in the night.”

“Did you know about this? Did she do this!” I glared at Chezney.

She shook her head utterly confused. “No. I know she’d never do something like this.”

“How. How!” Turning my body fully around to face the guard I got up in his face needing to know who had helped him escape.

The guard replied. “We spotted your lady mother returning from his cell this morning without her lady knight at her side.” Chezney watched me push my way past him stomping through the camp in search of my mother.

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katyspersonal · 1 year ago

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I accidentally stumbled upon a post you rbbed about canon characters who beat each other up violently and in fanon they violently make out and your tags about alfred and the cainhurst crow have made something in me stir. this is a brilliant pairing how did I never consider this

Oh, damn really now fshgdfdsg This pairing is actually a controversial classic of this fandom, on the level with Ariadella or Bradmon!! I am glad to give you an Insight point on accident hahaha; I believe it's normally called Crowfred, I tend to opt out for Alfeater! Ships where one or both characters aren't named goddamit..

My style of discussions about ships is to offer some more Insights like some dealer but with autism instead of drugs, so.. Two things:

1) Their age and/or timeline gap is uncertain!

In original Japanese script, Alfred doesn't call himself a "protege" of Master Logarius, which leaves it up to interpretation whether he even met Logarius in person or simply adores him parasocially! Should Bloody Crow come directly from Cainhurst, that'd make him much older than Alfred!

On the other hand, despite Arianna and Bloody Crow (and Fauxsefka, for that matter) existing, Annalise says that you are the only one consanguineously connected with her! It could come from the effect expiring over time if the person doesn't take her blood, which is what I am using. But at the same time, the Vilebloods we know might actually be descendants of the surviving ones! I've had some analysis on Arianna in this ( x ) post, but the gist of it: since actual noble dresses are silver, but hers is burgundy and coincidentally stretches during pregnancy no problem, her mother might have ran away while pregnant with Arianna!

But why Bloody Crow could not be similar, simply a descendant of the Vilebloods that never met Annalise in person and follows the mental image? Both Alfred and Crow could be caught in the unhealthy quest of admiring a person they've never met, continuing the rituals and the ideas of their ancestors they might not fully grasp, and moreover, continuing the old violent ideological conflict they don't even know the actual roots of or the reasons of continuing. They "gotta" kill each other because... why? Who told them they should? What about their own lives, not lives and honour of their 'ancestors'? It adds a lot of drama, and even makes stopping the war that isn't even their with love of all things more romantic!

At the same time, if one of them IS older and smarter, it opens up a whole other potential for the story. Crow could push the "naive fool" away from the crazy quest, or Alfred could convince Crow that sacrifices for "child of blood" is an evil and cursed thing. ....only if either of them calms their murderous unhinged energy for a second. :') And IF they both hail from the 'OG conflict' (time works strange ways in Yharnam), there is the appeal of simply growing tired from the pointless conflict which already destroyed both sides and they can face it together. Bonus controversy points depending on how many of each others side they've killed yet: Alfred straight up identifies as hunter of Vilebloods, whereas Crow is found in Grand Cathedral and strangely wields Healing Church's gun instead of something from Cainhurst (was he looting the victims or something?)

2) There is an alternative way to go about their story!

What if you read Alfred's deep resentment towards Annalise "seducing" people not as some hateful propaganda of the Church he's probably parroting, but as an actual precedent of something that happened? What if Bloody Crow wielding a Healing Church weapon IS his? What if the two used to BOTH be with the Healing Church and look for Annalise together, and one time Bloody Crow managed to reach his goal.. only to be completely charmed by Annalise and betray the Healing Church to join the Vilebloods instead, and he is only acting like crow-feathered Hunter of Hunters to have easier access to murdering people rather than beasts! (Djura pls stop trying to intervene let me finish typing the post ffs hfdjfdshsdfh)

So, Alfred IS pretty mad at his friend having chosen to simp instead, but can't blame Crow himself for it. This idea does need to address why then Annalise says you're 'the only one', as well as how would Crow overcome Logarius being an obstacle? @val-of-the-north says that maybe Bloody Crow instead joined via some other surviving Vileblood outside, so what we have. Parasocial? Telepathy? Communication via bell teleports? In either case, I think this is also an alternative idea worth exploring! Less dramatic, but also less controversial? (though would Alfred be a possessive jealous EX then? who knows..)

I want you to know though: I am actually kinda indifferent towards this ship by 'default', but while typing this reply I was going a little 😳 and thinking this is actually pretty great...? So, I've accidentally made YOU interested in it, and by YOUR interest, you've made ME interested in it- What is going onnnn dshhfdshdsf THIS IS TOO FUNNY HELP

P.S.: It is a no brainer that similar thinking applies to Ariadella in many parts! Adella only murders Arianna if she "dirtied" Hunter's blood for like three times, but in all cases, there is hope to look past fanatical brainwashing / glory and honour of ancestors respectively.. The way I see it, the message Miyazaki put here (and WOULD put here, considering his track record) is more "both sides were corrupt as fuck leeching on Yharnam in their own ways and this war was always pointless" than "church bad vampires good" fdsjhhdfs They all can talk..... this contradiction is so meaningless, ESPECIALLY if you are only continuing the ways of your ancestors before you had a choice to develop your own world-view. god. just talk, guys/girls....

#bloodborne #alfred hunter of vilebloods #bloody crow of cainhurst #bloodborne headcanons #shipping #alfeather #ask replies #(shit I think I might get stabbed by @heraldofcrow tomorrow.... just a silly feeling.. haha that'd be absurd right??)#(uh oh xdddd)

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kindness-and-friends · 1 year ago

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//Heya. Mod here. I have good news and bad news

Good news is I'll be pretty blunt with the lore on the souls and stuff! Ask a question about it and I'll probably answer it

Bad news is this blog will be on hiatus :( ill finish the rps tho dw

To put it simply, drama and other projects I need to work on

To put it not simply (This shit is gonna be like a whole essay. Also i didnt proofread it cuz am lazy)

Reason 1: Drama- I honestly don't know what to feel. I started this blog thinking that i can interact with all the underblogs, whatever side they may be on. I kinda wanted this blog to be neutral because I was kinda inspired by underblog💛's. I enjoyed blogs like integrityvictim and such, and followed them (i went feral in some of the reblogs lol) completely aware they were against @/thehumanofjustice. Because I wanted this blog to be enjoyed and disliked by both sides. I wanted this blog to interact with both sides.

It started with incorrect pronouns. Then our small group of underblogs had a vote I wasn't involved in nor knew anything about and out of nowhere human is the 'leader' of the underblogverse. I never liked that idea and I expressed my feelings about it before. Luckily more people can join, but nobody has. I do like the concept of @/underblogmanagement, it's a way for people to interact with others and develop their blogs. But its too early. If anything it shouldn't be called that, it shouldn't have been introduced the way it was, and it shouldn't be made now. If we want to make something like this we have to make it bigger and have every single fucking underblog lend a hand.

I wanted to stop when I got the death threats. I thought that maybe, just maybe, it was a fan of the underblogs trolling, and it wasn't actual underblogs hating me. I still think it is. I also wanted to stop when the shipping got too bad. I didn't want this to be like @/undertaleolive that was known as nothing more than being Clover's 'girlfriend'. I don't get as much asks as I used to, and I know the lot of them are from thehumanofjustice or deputyclover (im not dumb.) The only time this blog can be serious is when I make it serious. I chose to let the anons kill Willow so it could be serious. I chose to let Clover kill Willow so it could be serious. I chose to give Willow those hallucinations and give Xeon a concussion so for once this blog wouldn't just be meme asks and roleplays with close friends of mine. I feel limited.

I think underblogmanagement is dumb. I think this rivalry is dumb. I think this blog is dumb. I think the creation of a whole new tag is dumb. I think the fact that only a portion of human's friends and followers is what makes up my follower count is dumb.

I wanted to be an underblog💛 with a story, not whatever the fuck I am now

Reason 2: Other projects - I'm giving the majority of my focus and motivation on this blog. Any motivation and creativity I have for art and writing gets thrown into here with no recognition. I have other things I need to place my focus on. As @/infinitrix, may know, I haven't updated my askblog in 2 months. Instead of drawing art for that blog, I'm drawing art for this one (only to get like 2 notes). Instead of writing dialogue and lore for that one, I'm writing it for this. If the only people who'll actually see what I post are my friends, I think this blog is nothing more than a waste of motivation. I need to focus on other things, and always worrying whether I have rps to finish or art to make isn't helping at all. The majority of art requests on my main are about this blog, too, and I want to work on art that isn't related to this. The only blogs whose lore I enjoy and would like to know more of are Whisper's, Winnie's, and maybe more that i don't interact with. I do think that if there's only a few people really trying to make their blog interesting while the rest is just shits and giggles, it's useless. I put together lore and relationships and art, and it hardly gets any notes. I can say the same for @/apatientwind who makes amazing art that doesn't get notes, and @/whisper-the-human (im eating your writing style ourgh. Keep up the good work :3). And yeah. Im giving up

I'll finish the last two rps I'm in and then leave. Don't try to start any new ones, I wanna make this quick

So I will finish what's unfinished, and possibly this will become a blog to ask about the lore. Maybe one day, when I figure everything out and have more motivation, I'll get back to this. But that won't be soon.

Ill be active on @goldeneclipsee if there are actually fans out there that arent my friends and moots.

Bye.

#long post #I'm staring at this like. 'Did I really do this? Is this finally the end?'#I'm scared for when human sees this doe

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jamiesfootball · 1 year ago

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Tagged by @jamietarttsnorthernattitude and @asteria-argo

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

191,977

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ted Lasso is the main one right now

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

A German, a Russian, and an American Walk into a Bar (The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015))

oh god, you're gonna get it (you have not been given love) (Ted Lasso (TV))

The Garrison Reserve (The Musketeers (2014))

The Dick String Incident (Ted Lasso (TV))

somebody's hands who felt like mine (Ted Lasso (TV))

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, though I am woefully behind

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

It's a toss up between right next to the heart of me and somebody's hands who felt like mine. I think the first one is technically the sharper angst, but it at least has a sequel in the works to make things a little better. The second one is a softer whump, but open-ended and with no follow up planned.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

In terms of fics that have actually ended, A German, a Russian, and an American Walk into a Bar wins by a mile

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet???

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. Whatever kind. If I am feeling inspired by a thought, I'm gonna write it.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I've written AUs but no straight-up crossovers yet, though I've lazily batted a few around in a sort of 'what if x met y' sort of way

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, A German, a Russian, and an American Walk into a Bar and The Garrison Reserve were both co-written

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Right now it's Jamie/Whump

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

It's not that I won't finish The Garrison Reserve (literally the last chapter is half written), but finishing it is going to mean a rewatch because I have straight up forgotten half the side characters' names

16. What are your writing strengths?

Maybe descriptions? Also my willingness to try to tell a joke

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

This is one I try very very hard to edit out, but I am literally the worst at writing my thoughts down out-of-order or forgetting to finish a thought entirely. Oh, and dialogue. It either comes naturally or I am forging that garbage with a hammer.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think there is a time for using another language in-text and a time when simply implying the other language or leaning on the perspective of a character who doesn't speak the other language is the correct decision.

That said I am currently writing a story about Dani and Jamie which involves some Spanish dialogue, but I feel fairly good about it because 1) when in doubt, I can (and do) just quote my mom, 2) if it sounds too simplified / non-colloquial I can always make the excuse that Dani, like my mom, doesn't want to confuse Jamie while he's learning, 3) any mistake I make could easily be a mistake that Jamie would make anyways. Wins all around!

Somewhat related, there was an absolutely fantastic Sherlock (BBC) fic back in the day (which was sadly removed from AO3) told from John's point of view where Sherlock decided he would go about his day in Italian. It included Italian dialogue that you could hover over for the translation, but the thrust of the fic was John playing along with his best guess of what was being said. The result was a fic that concurrently told two entwined stories by emphasizing two different povs by giving the audience the choice to ignore one in favor of experiences the other one first with no subtitles. It was very cool.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

a two-page handwritten DBZ fanfic when I was 11.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

oh god, you're gonna get it (you have not been given love)

tagging: @sighonaraa and @altschmerzes because I've not seen either of you yet

#tag game

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halliescomut · 2 years ago

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So....I don't generally like to call ppl out on the Internet, but I can't be silent about this, because it's a little creepy and weird (honestly more like a lot creepy). Got served a TikTok today about Jeff and Barcode...

I did mark out the name of the creator, because I'm not trying to send hate their way, but I am very much disgusted by the implications of the text that they put in the TikTok.

Now if you're confused about why this is upsetting, in general with BL characters, the couple names follow a common order--that order being TopBottom. In the case of acting pairs, often fans will take that order and apply it to the actors pairing name, so PayuRain is BossNoeul, WinTeam is BounPrem, etc. The text insinuates that Barcode is becoming the top because he is now taller than Jeff, and may be more muscular. It's feeding into a trope that any gay man who is shorter, slighter of build, must be a bottom. It's giving very much "real men don't get fucked, they do the fucking". Now I would think that it's fairly obvious that this is a damaging and quite misogynistic viewpoint, but I will break it down a little further for you why.

The trope in BL stories of having the bottom be physically smaller, have more delicate features, perhaps behave more 'femininely' is damaging for two specific reasons. It reinforces the misogynistic idea that feminine traits are inherently lesser than masculine ones, and it perpetuates a potentially harmful stereotype, creating the idea that a man must behave a certain way based on what their preference is in bed. Now you may say "well this is just tropes in a show" but there are real world consequences to these ideas. If you interact AT ALL regularly with queer men, you will likely have encountered a man who was bullied and even assaulted because someone perceived them as being 'too feminine'. We know of actual cases of more 'effeminate' men being discriminated against, or being told to tone things down, recently PP Kritt in his performance at the SongShan music festival. There's been an ongoing discussion in China regarding how to make sure men 'stay masculine' even.

And the rigidness around positions portrayed in much of BL, kind of across the board, not even just in East Asian or South East Asian BL, is incredibly inaccurate to actual reality. The reality is that the VAST majority of gay men will engage on both sides of the sexual dynamic. Verses are the norm, no matter what BL would lead you to believe. That's not to say there aren't people and couples with preferences they tend to stick to, there certainly are, but that's not going to be the most common experience.

Now let's step back into the issue I have with this video. It's not okay to speculate publicly on the sexual practices of strangers on the internet. We have NO confirmation of any type of romantic relationship between these men, so speculating on their sexual dynamic is already taking a leap. But even if we DID have confirmation. Even if we were talking about a pair that we know 100% are together like Porsche and Arm, making comments about their sex life openly on Beyonce's internet...not okay. Don't do that. It's wildly inappropriate, and honestly pretty creepy. If you simply MUST speculate, do so in private spaces, like a discord or group chat.

I do also want to point out that beyond the problematic behavior of speculating publicly about a stranger's sexuality, it's simply not your business, in regards to EA and SEA actors it can be dangerous. While most of those countries do not consider homosexuality to be illegal, there are still very few that have legal protections set in place for queer people. Meaning if these men were to lose sponsorships, brand deals, potential roles, because of their 'perceived sexuality' based off of internet rumors--then they may not have any legal recourse against any of those companies. And MANY posts that assert things like this do tag the ship names, meaning it's fairly easily locatable with keyword searches.

So just....think twice before you post speculations about any celebrity's sexuality. And don't publicly discuss the dynamics of an actual real person's sexual preferences. Because it's gross.

#Creepy fandom behavior #Thai BL #Japanese BL #Taiwanese BL #Korean BL #Vietnamese BL #Filipino BL #American BL #British BL

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518062 · 2 months ago

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yet another excuse for me to explain this separation. great! let’s kick it off with the inherent truth: bkdk (umbrella term for katsuki x izuku) is interpreted depending on one’s identity, as most media consumption works. the names we use, hence the separation of bkdk/dkbk, are a result of such extrapolations. it is not a display of superiority; nor is it a display of dominance/fact.

so when we say that we "believe" dkbk is more "canon" (which, is inevitably wrong, since neither largely popular public opinion of this ship is correct save for canon itself), we are referring to how we specifically have perceived the characters and what we overall deduce from them and their relationship. in this sense, you are right to say that the difference lies in how we read, i.e. our personal inferences which are (once again) influenced by several contextual factors. dkbk/bkdk were always going to be divided because we all consume media in hugely different ways, and bkdk simply turned out to be the more popular opinion; not inherently wrong or right.

no, it is never about who is topping who––as a fixed dkbk, i don't even consume sfw content of bkdk because i do not like it and i have my own opinions of dkbk because obviously. and this is where the fandom fails––this lack of separation and constant discourse is not normal, and most people would just look at it, see it's not what they like, and scroll past. but this fandom has the inability, for some reason, and relies on a heavy stubbornness from both sides.

i am biased. as a fixed dkbk, we are the smaller number, and bkdks are the majority, therefore when we see dkbk posts being tagged with bkdk we get bothered because it's hard as is, and now people are infiltrating tags. i get that some people think they're the same thing and that both terms are hypernyms, but fact is: culturally, and historically, despite topping or bottoming––they are in fact not.

yes, their characterisation changes because we all see them differently. that's fine. and it's okay to be a switch shipper too. why, then, can we not live in peaceful segregation in which the tags are separate so these blocks/discussions do not have to exist in the first place? it is a simple fix.

another issue is that the bkdk majority often subscribe to the 'traditional fujoshi' format with intense izuku feminisation. dkbks are guilty of this well––they forcedly feminise katsuki at times to fit the conventional, heteronormative sexual standards of the society we live in today. so add this to the mix and twitter especially is a cesspool of dogshit. i've been there, i've seen it, and been victim of bkdk criticism and insulted them too. so it would be fabulous if people followed fandom etiquette and just stuck to tags. and if you are a switch or 'both' person, good for you, but mind your tags. on tumblr this is an issue, as it is on twitter even more.

and what frustrates me is that people use tags like izkt/decchan/dekukatsu next to stuff like katsudeku and that's just... evil. i get how dkbk/bkdk can be umbrella terms but those tags have been made for the dkbk dynamic vice versa and when they're shoved with all other tags it's annoying. but hey, i'm guilty––i tag bkdk on here because i won't get much reach otherwise.

let's just say there's a lot of lessons to learn here, and i'm not coming for you, OP. just trying to explain why this fandom is the way it is.

Something that frustrated me a lot is how segregated bkdk and dkbk are from each other, like, It is the same characters! aren't we all on the same side?

But in the end, the difference is apparent when you read how they portray Izuku, I think that the thing, especially after chapter 431, is that people focus so much on Katsuki being 'rejected' that now Izuku is the that has to chase him (gain)

Their characterization changes so much depending on if bkdk or dkbk, at some point it stops being about who is topping who

yah all this bc I keep getting blocked by both sides bc I like both

#dkbk #bkdk #mha #mha fandom #im tired of this #i really am #but it must be discussed #i can elaborate further on the differences between dkbk and bkdk if ud like im an expert

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bejeweledgoth · 2 years ago

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Here it is, the sneak-peak for @cloneshippingbigbang !!

Author: @bejeweledgoth

Artist: Neon_Black

- Title: All The Cracks and Breaks Than Still Remain

- Major archive warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

- Pairing: Gregor/Rex/Wolffe

- Tags: Minor Character Death, Suicide Ideation, Suicide, Trauma, Healing From Trauma, PTSD, Post Order 66, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending (or as happy as post order 66 can get), Building a Life Together

- Fic rating: Explicit

- word count total: 36k+

- Summary: They were all three of them broken and shattered, what remained of them less than whole, but those ragged edges fitted perfectly together, the sharpest corners of them smoothed down by each other, and now they were only ever whole when they were together.

After Order 66 Rex felt it was his duty to try and save as many as he could, to try and find those whose chips might have malfunctioned or never even activated. He finds two whose minds are still their own, Gregor and Wolffe, but many of the others they saved who did execute the order admit they would rather be dead than saved, unable to live with the memories.

Only three of them with the will to live, still, to try and pick up the pieces of who they were and form them into who they can be, together, away from all the hurt and grief that was meant to have been their destiny. What lies ahead will be a long road full of healing and learning the softer side of life, of maybe even learning to love.

By now they had reached the ship. Gregor unlocked and lowered the ramp before heading inside to most likely start in on the pre-flight checks.

Just as he was about to follow, a heavy hand gripped Rex’s bicep and jerked him to a stop, locking around his arm like a vice and he could feel the faint tremor radiating out through it from Wolffe’s trembling. “Rex, I think mine activated. Please tell me you can get it out.”

There was something so incredibly broken and desperate in Wolffe’s voice that Rex couldn’t help but turn and pull their foreheads back together. “Of course we will. We’ll get it out and you will be completely yourself.”

Wolffe nodded, nose bumping Rex’s and he let out a shaky breath. “Good, thank you.”

The two of them made their way inside the ship, settling inside the cockpit alongside Gregor. There were only two seats inside, the ship too small for anything more, but Wolffe simply sat himself down on the floor next to Rex’s feet, one hand wrapped around his ankle the whole flight.

“I’ve got moments where I black out,” Wolffe suddenly spoke into the silence that had wrapped itself around them a couple hours later. “Moments where I felt proud of the pack for killing Buir, for killing a traitor, moments where I considered myself a traitor or felt like I needed to do whatever I could to get back to the fleet. I didn’t know what was happening and it was absolutely terrifying, not always being in control of my own actions. I would sometimes come out of it and realise I had been working towards getting closer to the fleet. It’s why I came here, as far into the Outer Rim as I could to buy myself some time if I had another episode. I used to knock myself out at the beginning to prevent it. It doesn’t happen as often now as then, luckily. Please don’t let me hurt either of you if it happens again before it’s out.”

The words hung heavy and dark inside the cramped little cockpit, at least for a moment, and then Gregor reached out and placed a hand on Wolffe’s shoulder. “We can get it out, as soon as we get back. I never had mine activate, but I still got it out. The thought of it possibly taking away who I am, it was one of the scariest things I’ve ever encountered. I’m so sorry it happened to you.”

Rex’s hand settled onto the back of Wolffe’s neck, sending Gregor a quick, appreciative smile. “We’ll take care of you, Wolffe, don’t worry.”

With a nod, Wolffe leaned his head against Rex’s knee and breathed out, “Okay. Thank you.”

Rex ran his fingers through Wolffe’s curls in a soothing, rhythmic motion and it wasn’t long before he slumped to the side and the tension bled from his shoulders as he fell asleep.

#csbb22 #CloneShipping BigBang 2022 #Cloneshipping #Rex/Gregor/Wolffe #Rex/Wolffe/Gregor #Wolffe/Gregor/Rex #Wolffe/Rex/Gregor #Gregor/Rex/Wolffe #Gregor/Wolffe/Rex

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arahxdjarin · 4 years ago

Text

You Have My Word

The Rebel and The Mandalorian, Chapter 2

Mando finds you with a bounty, he takes you back to Peli’s hanger on Tatooine to help patch up your wounds. He ends up hiring you on as crew, but you have a past of your own that you’re trying to run from. Will the two of you stay together despite the secrets?

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word Count: 5.9 k

Tags: f!masturbation, getting caught masturbating.. again, fingering, rough sex, unprotected PIV, dom!din, cuddling, some fluff too

Notes: Hi besties! here's chapter 2, honestly this is still one of my favorite chapters. enjoy and please lemme know what you think! ily all <3

Warning: This work is going to have talks about past torture that reader endured, she has been put through some shit.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

It’s been a few days since your … interaction with Mando. Both of you decided to simply ignore what happened on the floor of the hull, you didn’t bring it up because you were embarrassed you had done something so intimate in front of someone you hardly knew. You weren’t sure why he hadn't brought it up but you were sure the reasoning was similar to your own. Despite the incident things weren’t too awkward. You promised yourself that night that the interaction wouldn’t make your week long trip harder than it was already going to be.

You both work quietly around each other, one of you always with the kid while the other checks the flight computers to make sure the ship’s running smoothly on course. You’re in the cockpit working on a panel of wires when you hear his familiar footsteps. He comes up the ladder with the kid latched under his arm, he has rations in his hand. You stop working on the panel of wires and reach for the kid instinctively. Mando hands you the child and two ration packets. You give him a look, he has three ration packs and you’ve never seen him eat, let alone with you.

“I was wondering if you’d eat with me, we can sit back to back on the floor, only if you want to though.” Mando seems to be reading your thoughts and you stifle a small smile before sitting yourself on the floor facing the left side of the cockpit with the child in your lap.

Mando sits down facing the right side and he leans his back against you, you feel him shifting to take the helmet off.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to live your life in a helmet.” You say while giving a piece of the ration packet bread to the small, grabby green hands in front of you. He takes it, eating the food quickly before holding his hands up for another piece. You make sure to keep the baby’s back against your chest so he can’t see Mando either.

“This is the way.” Mando says, his deep voice causes the words to vibrate against your spine.

“I have some questions about Mandalorians, am I allowed to ask you?” You lower your voice worried you may overstep boundaries.

“I can answer them.” Mando answers after a few seconds, you imagine him trying to talk around a mouth full of food and it brings a smile to your lips.

“I know I’m not allowed to see your face, is there anyone that is allowed to see it?” You ask in between bites from your own ration packet

“No, not unless I get married or have a child of my own. No one has seen my face since I was a foundling.” You nod your head stopping once you realize he can’t see the acknowledgement.

“That seems lonely, I know of a Mandalorian, she takes her helmet off though. Do you know why she would?” You turn your attention to the kid in your lap, he finished his ration package and has now taken it upon himself to chew on the packaging.

“She isn’t a true Mandalorian, does she wear beskar?” Mando seems to tense at the idea of a Mandalorian who doesn’t follow the same path he does.

“I think she does, she wears a full suit of armor, her name is Sabine Wren, I knew her before I was taken prisoner, when I was still a part of the rebellion.” you trail off at the end not wanting to dive too far into your past.

“I’ve never heard that name before, can I ask you a question now.” Mando moves slightly against your back. You feel his muscles against you as he adjusts and his head comes to rest on top of your own. He takes your silence as a yes.

“The other day, when I woke you up to give you food, you screamed of a red man, and then you seemed to get really upset when I was talking about the kid’s people, are the Jedi bad?” You tense further into his back and look down at the kid, his eyes stare back at you, like he’s patiently waiting for your answer as much as Mando is.

“No, they aren’t, they’re good people. They used to be peace keepers of the galaxy before the Sith rose to power with the Empire.” The child’s ears move with your words, he burrows himself into you and you wrap your arms around him tighter, running one finger along the length of his ear.

“I don’t know what happened to you in your past, but I’m sorry.” Mando’s hand comes behind him to squeeze your upper arm for a second before letting go.

“There's no reason to be sorry.” you turn your gaze to the place Mando touched you. Your throat tightens and starts to get sticky with emotion. You need to change the subject as quickly as possible so you think of another question to ask.

“You said Mando is just a name people call you, not your real one. Do you have a real one? Or does The Way forbid it?” Mando’s back tenses for a split second then he relaxes against you.

“I have a name, The Way doesn’t forbid us to tell people. Names are just as sacred as faces, I’m supposed to be a nameless, faceless warrior.” You let his words wash over you, no one has seen his face since he was a child and no one has called him by his name for probably just as long, what a lonely life to lead. You realize Mando knows what loneliness feels like, he carries it with him every day, just like you do.

“This is the way.” You say it more to yourself, Mando chuckles behind you and you love the way it vibrates through your chest. You lean your head against his back and lower your eyes to the small child who's now snoring loudly on your lap.

Mando moves behind you and you know your time spent on the floor eating is over, you know he’s readjusting his helmet to his head. You wish it wasn’t over, you could spend the rest of your days on the floor of the cockpit. What you didn’t expect is for him to turn so his chest is flush with your back. His arms travel down yours to where the child lays in your lap. He gently lifts the child from your arms before standing to set the child in his pram.

Mando turns back to you, offering you a hand to help you up. You take his hand, he tugs you up from the ground roughly causing you to stumble into his arms, his left hand moves to caress your face while the right wraps around your back. He holds you for what feels like forever, and somehow it's still too short. You look into his visor trying to find any part of his face that makes him feel more real to you. After searching for a minute you give up and decide to snake your arms around his back, resting your cheek on his chest, letting yourself breathe in the scent of him. He always smells amazing despite his mild soap. You’re the first to pull away from the embrace. The weight on your chest begins to crush you and your throat tightens again with emotion. You clear your throat and cast your eyes to the floor, trying to break the tension in the room.

“I’m gonna go take a shower, thank you for having food with me, and answering my questions.” You head to the ladder giving Mando one last look over your shoulder as you say the words.

“Thank you for answering mine.” His voice sounds warm and a small smile tugs on your lips before you drop off the ladder and into the hull of the ship.

You aren’t sure what that hug meant or why you reacted the way you did but it was nice. You feel the way your heart is beating roughly against your chest, only Mando has ever been able to elicit these types of reactions from you.

You strip the clothes off your body, looking at your freshest scars, the burn on your thigh was healing well enough and the gash on your arm is now a mild pink scar, neither of them hurt. Your abdomen hardly ached either. You run your hand across the other scars that littered your body, some of them were from the rebellion, some from Imperials who tortured you. Your hand lands on the largest scar on your abdomen, a few inches up and to the left of the yellowing bruise, your fingers linger over it thinking about who gave you this lifetime reminder of what you endured.

You think about Kar and how he hardly ever beat you, drugged you yes, burned you with his blaster, sure. But outside of him kicking you after ripping out your tracker. He hardly ever laid a hand on you. When he had taken you from the imperials you were worried that he’d try to have his way with you or try to sell you off to some sleazy person but he never did. He wasn’t a good guy by any meaning of the word but he had only wanted you for your mechanic and pilot knowledge. You don’t know how many ships you helped him steal or how many freighters carrying spice you destroyed for him.

You shiver as thoughts of the dark times of your past flash in your mind. What you did to survive, chipping pieces of yourself away to stay alive. Even if you want your past life back, you can never have it. You’ve been plunged into darkness and there’s no returning from that. You shake your head to get rid of all the thoughts. You didn’t want to think about Kar anymore. He was dead and frozen in carbonate. You didn’t want to think about the man with the red lightsaber either, he was dead too, you made sure of it.

You step into the warm spray of the shower and decide to think of Mando instead. You’ve thought about him every shower since he found you on the floor of the hull. You decided to take up his way of getting release rather than getting caught out in the open.

Your hand moves down your body, you close your eyes, and imagine it’s his instead. Your fingers graze your clit, you gasp into the spray of the water. You think about what he said that night, about taking you on the floor of the shower. Shoving his cock down your throat and your mouth starts watering at the thought of it. Your mind trails off again to how you want him to push you over the control panels in the cockpit, fucking you until you scream his name in pure bliss. Your free hand trails up your stomach to grab your chest and you massage the soft skin thinking about how amazing his warm hand would feel over the tender flesh.

Your fingers start moving quicker as your thoughts fill with all the filthy things Mando can do to your body. You start moaning softly into the spray of the shower and the water gets in your mouth as you writhe in the warmth of it. Your eyes screw shut as your release approaches quickly. You whisper, “Yes Mando, please fuck me!” into the water.

Your fingers start moving at an even quicker rate now. Your forehead leans forward against the cool shower wall, your hand tightens on your chest and your finger drags over the sensitive skin of your nipple. Your orgasm starts to barrel through you with a force that shakes your already unsteady legs. You can’t stop yourself as you scream for Mando, your release takes you over completely, possessing you to beg and plead for him as you clench around nothing. You finally come down from your high and there’s a knock at the refresher door. You freeze and immediately curse yourself for getting out of hand with your thoughts.

“Um I’m ok! I thought I felt the ship move but everything’s ok!” You yell over the sound of the water, still trying to orient your post orgasm brain. You pull your hands away from your body and place them both against the shower wall trying to steady your body and wild heart rate.

“Oh alright,” Mando says through the door, he pauses before adding, “what was that about you begging me to fuck you though?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You are absolutely fucking mortified, you’ve been caught red handed twice now. You never want to leave the refresher again.

“Shame that you don’t, I was going to tell you to stop begging and come out here so I can.” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, the bastard, but it doesn’t stop your body from lighting up with more pleasure. Your thighs press together instinctively as your one orgasm suddenly isn’t enough to satiate you.

You finish your shower as slowly as you can to avoid the humiliation of having to face Mando. You dress even slower, once you open the refresher doors you’re standing face to face with Mando. Dressed only in his underclothing, he holds a small piece of black fabric in his hands out in front of him.

“Put this on, ner vencuy’ika.” Mando thrusts the fabric into your hands and you realize quickly it's a blindfold he made out of one of his shirts. You begin to wrap the fabric across your face, your hands moving too slowly apparently because Mando grabs to fabric from you and begins to tie it quickly behind your head,

“Can you see anything?” He asks. His hands trail down your body and lands on your lower back, pulling you into him. You gasp when you feel his bulge and you look around for a moment before shaking your head no.

“Not a thing, it's pitch black.” Mando hums to himself.

“Good.” his hands are still rubbing circles into your lower back. He pulls his hands away for a second. You hear something heavy hit the floor with a loud thud, you jump for a split second. His soft lips find your neck, and you realize the loud sound was from him dumping his helmet on the ground. A moan falls from your mouth at the feeling of his lips on your body. Your hands instinctively go for his hair but you freeze before they reach their destination.

“Am I allowed to touch your hair?” He chuckles softly into your neck before bringing his hands back up your body, he trails them up your arms until they land on your hands and he brings them down into his hair, he moans against your neck as your fingers warp around the soft hair at his neck. You run your hands through it and grab a handful to pull him closer to your body, eliciting another low sound from him.

His hands travel back down your body all the way to the backs of your thighs. He picks you up effortlessly, you wrap your legs around him and allow him to carry you. He puts you down on the soft, small bed you’ve made in the corner. His lips find their way back to your body and you moan as his tongue darts out to lick a long stripe down your neck. He rocks his hips into you in response, you wrap your legs around him tighter to get more friction. His lips pull away from your jaw but only to place them on your own. The kiss is rough, full of desire, both your pent up emotion for each other coming out in a heat filled kiss. His hips continue to grind against your body. You’re aching for him, you pull away from the kiss and your mind spins as his lips move back down your jaw to bite and suck on your neck.

“Please Mando, I need to feel you.” Before you can finish your sentence he’s ripping your clothes from your body. He pulls your pants off in one fluid swipe.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that since I met you. Take your tunic off.” he pulls away from your body, and gives you both space to take over your remaining clothing. You quickly remove your top and your under shirt, you’re fully nude against the floor of the hull, your hair still wet from your shower. His naked chest presses against you and his mouth returns to the spot on your neck, you shift your hips seeking more friction again. He snakes one arm between your legs, and lets out a groan when he feels how wet you are.

“Fuck you’re so wet, is this all for me? I’ve barely even touched you, I bet you were touching yourself in the shower thinking about me too. That’s why you moaned my name isn’t it?” His fingers find their way to your clit and you moan into his mouth as he circles the bundle of nerves expertly.

“Y-yes, I was touching myself again thinking about how I want you to fuck me until I’m screaming your name.”

“Fuck.” His voice comes out husky in reply, he positions his hand so his thumb can continue to rub against your clit and he’s also able to move his fingers to your entrance. He teases you for a second before slipping the first knuckle inside of you.

“Mesh’la, I plan on fucking you, thoroughly, but first I want to feel how hard you can come around my fingers, okay?” You nod your head enthusiastically, you can’t string together words correctly right now, Mando’s turning your mind into an unfocused stream of consciousness with every flick of his tongue on your neck and his fingers deep inside you.

His fingers rock into you, the pads of them hitting the nerves deep inside of you perfectly, your hips buck at the sensation, needing more contact. His free hand moves from wherever it was to hold your hips down, his entire hand splays across your lower abdomen. You whine at the feeling of his fingers inside of you, you clench around them as his pace increases, working you towards your second orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” His fingers start to move quicker inside you, changing the pace again. his thumb’s pace stays unrelenting and steady on your sensitive clit. He bites down on your neck hard enough to make you hiss and he quickly kisses the area, soothing it with his warm tongue.

“Please, I need you to fuck me.” You hate how needy your voice sounds but you need him inside you, your body is screaming for him to consume you in every way possible. He thrusts his fingers up to a spot that makes you gasp and you arch your back off the blanket. Mando’s hand on your lower abdomen pushes you back against the floor, your legs kick out and your hands tangle in the blanket beneath you.

“Soon, I promise. But first you’re going to come around my fingers, do you understand me?” Goosebumps break out across your skin at his demanding tone. You’re panting at this point, unable to form words again.

“Mesh’la, I want to hear you say you understand me.” His fingers hit that spot again, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, you let out another small whine. Mando hits the spot again and then again, his thumb dragging across your clit slowly as his fingers continue to hit that spot, enough to bring you pleasure but not enough to send you over the edge.

“I understand.” Your voice is breathy but you’re able to get the words out. His thumb starts to move quicker, his free hand still holds your hips down. You can barely hold on, your orgasm is creeping over the horizon, and Mando’s hands are pushing you closer to the edge. Your hands fist the blankets and your legs kicking out harder. Mando lets you thrash against the blanket, his hand never faltering from its unforgiving pace. The cool air of the Crest offers some relief to your hot, sweat stricken skin, the air caressing it lightly helping you from going straight into over stimulation. Mando places a hot open mouthed kiss to your chest and his mouth quickly finds your nipple. He drags it between his teeth, his tongue flicking over the hard peak lightly.

“Mando I’m-“ you moan out in between strokes of his fingers, you feel the stubble on his face as he drags his lips over your nipple.

“Good, come for me.” Mando’s tone is final, demanding, and so fucking hot. His fingers keep hitting the same delicious spot inside you, his mouth warm and wet on your nipple. You’re gasping and moaning as Mando finger fucks you over the edge, sending you head first into the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever received from a partner before. All the noises dull, as you writhe on the blankets, trying to get away from Mando’s unrelenting hands but he continues to stroke you long after you come down from your climax. You have no time to recover as Mando pulls you up into his chest. He buries his face into your neck, nibbling at the sensitive skin there.

“Now, Mesh’la, now I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name, because I would be a fool to not give you exactly what you ask for.” his lips move back to yours for a moment, he grinds your overly sensitive sex against his cock before he turns you around. You’re on your hands and knees facing the wall with Mando pressing himself against your ass. He grabs a fist full of your hair, pushing your head into your pillow.

“If I’m being too rough, you need to tell me.” Mando lines himself up with your entrance and thrusts into you. His hand stays in your hair while the other one gathers your hands behind your back and he pushes you into the blanket while thrusting into you from behind. Your eyes roll to the back of your head from the sensation, you bite your pillow to muffle a rather loud moan.

“Finally, please, Mando. Please fuck me.” Tears that have formed in your eyes soak into the cloth of the blindfold while your drool soaks into your pillow as he thrusts violently into you again and again from behind.

“You’re so perfect, Gods, I’ve been thinking about this ever since you fixed that stupid fucking hyperdrive and your pretty nipples were pressed against your tight little undershirt.” he groans from behind you. You can’t formulate a single thought so you just moan and try to meet his thrusts to get as much contact as possible.

“You’re so greedy, you’ve come twice already in the past hour but it's just not enough, you want to go for a third?” Mando’s breathing heavily behind you and his grip on your hands tighten. You hum at the thought, you’d come as many times as he’d let you.

Mando flips you over roughly, your back hits the blanket, he lines himself up with your entrance quickly slamming into you again. He grabs your thighs and hikes them higher on his hips, changing the angle. You both groan at the feeling, he’s so deep inside you. The hand that's in your hair moves to your lower back to hold you up off the ground. You hear his other hand smack against the wall to brace himself. He smashes his lips against yours, you wrap both your hands around his neck and meet each of his thrusts. You lock your ankles behind his back and pray to the Gods he doesn’t drop you.

“Mando you feel so good.” You moan into his mouth and he takes the opportunity to lick into yours. You thought his fingers felt great hitting that spot inside you. His cock is brushing against the spot with every single stroke, you grind your hips down making the sensations amplify. Your clit drags ever so slightly over the skin of his groin.

“I can say the same about you Mesh’la, you’re so tight, you fit perfectly in my arms, your moans are driving me fucking insane.” You throw your head back at the sound of his deep voice, your cunt clenching around him as he continues to thrust into you effortlessly. You’re barely holding on, his warm hand on your back, his hips thrusting into you and his godsdamn voice it’s all too much. You let out another whine, Mando must be able to see how close you are.

“Not yet, don’t come yet. You wait until I tell you too, okay?” Mando’s voice is strained like he’s also trying to hold on.

“Okay.” Is all you’re able to choke out as you pant against the skin of his neck. You arch your back further and press into his chest as much as you can. Still meeting all of his thrusts with your hips.

“I’m gonna come soon, ner vencuy’ika , where should I?” Mando’s head is leaning on your shoulder now, the hand on your back is tightening and pressing you against him tighter than before. Your air severely limited by his deathgrip hold on you.

“Fuck, I’m safe, just come inside.” You moan as you feel your own climax approaching, you can’t hold on any longer.

“Mesh’la you can come now, come for me again.” Mando moans the words into your hair, you can tell he’s right there with you, barely hanging on. It’s as if his words open the floodgates and you throw back your head, moaning out his name as your walls spasms around his cock. His thrusts begin to slow, he bites into your shoulder and his cock pulses inside you as he lets out a loud groan. He holds you against him as both your orgasm washes over your respective bodies. You dig your fingers into his shoulders trying to catch your breath as his hold on you loosens. Mando slips out of you, maneuvering your body so he’s laying on his back with you laying on his chest. His chest rises and falls more evenly than your own and you try to match your breathing to his.

“Mando?” He hums in response, his hand rubbing its way up and down your back soothingly.

“What do those words mean?” He kisses the top of your head before replying.

“Ner vencuy’ika means my little blessing, Mesh’la means beautiful. They’re both Mando’a, terms of endearment I guess.” You try to hide the smile that breaks out across your face by burying your face into his chest.

***

Mando lays underneath you and caresses your back while you sleep. He’s hoping you won’t have a nightmare if he’s right here with you. You look so peaceful while you sleep and he knows you hardly ever do. It's strange, he’s never met another person who sleeps as little as he does until he met you. It's only been a few days but whenever he's up, you're up. He catches you taking small naps sometimes but you almost always wake up terrified and ready to fight.

Mando thinks back to what you guys did a few hours ago and a small smile tugs at his lips, he fucked you to sleep. If that’s what it takes, He’ll fuck you every single day, it’s only right if it puts you sleep, he’s willing to offer you his help from here on out. You stir slightly and his hand instinctively goes to your hair to soothe you back into rest. You settle against him quickly.

He sighs deeply and stares up at the pitch black ceiling of the hull, his mind wandering. He thinks about your past, at least what you were willing to offer to him. You seem so secretive about it, which he’ll respect because he’s secretive about his own. He can’t help but wonder what causes your nightmares, why are you so on edge? He thinks it must be something the Imps did to you, they must have messed you up pretty badly. His jaw clenches, just another reason to hate them more than he already did. His hand smooths down your hair, before it wanders to work small circles into the back of your neck.

He wonders what it would sound like for you to moan his name, his real name. He thinks back to the conversation from earlier while you both were eating. The way you seem so interested to learn more about his Mandalorian background, you were so polite with your questions, not trying to push him into telling you his name or show you his face. It seems like you respect his creed. Which makes him happy? He isn't sure, he's not used to feeling emotions outside of rage, hurt or lust. The kid makes him happy, you give him kind of the same feeling, sort of. It’s still different in a way he can’t explain.

You shoot up with a gasp holding onto your abdomen, Mando immediately thinks he hurt you earlier when you two fucked, he reaches out to help. You fall back against the blanket, and clutch at a spot on your sternum that isn't even bruised. Mando whispers your name to see if you’re awake. He shakes your shoulders lightly, worried you may be in another nightmare. Your hand grabs his and you groan against his forearm. He’s relieved you’re awake, he has no idea how to wake you from a nightmare without putting your body through more stress.

“Another bad dream?” He asks, nuzzling his face against your shoulder.

“All of my dreams are bad.” You groan, wrapping your arm around his back, digging your nails into his skin. He frowns into your neck, there goes his idea of fucking you soundly to sleep every day. Your hand moves to your face realizing the blindfold is still in place.

“I’m gonna go to the cockpit and check on the kid, make sure we're not barreling into an asteroid field or anything.” Your voice is hoarse, you reach out your hand to find Mando’s hair, your fingers rub his scalp and his body relaxes against you, enjoying the simple contact.

“You should try to get some sleep though. I’m sure you’re tired.” You continue and your hand moves to caress the side of Mando’s face before you stand up, trying to find your clothes in the dark hull.

“You can keep your helmet off. I'll stay in the cockpit until you come up and tell me otherwise.” You start to shuffle into refresher. Mando sighs, and turns over to the side you were laying on. His fingers glide over the blankets you were just laying on. You’re right he should get some sleep. He hears the refresher door open again, your silhouette slightly illuminated from the light, he watches as you stumble your way to the ladder. He knows you’re still wearing the blindfold as you curse and trip over his helmet, his chest tightens thinking that you care about him enough to make sure his creed isn’t broken. Once you’re in the cockpit he closes his eyes and gets comfortable on the floor, pulling your pillow to his chest as he dozes off.

***

You rub your face once you sit in the pilot’s chair, at some point your nightmares are going to kill you. You’re hoping that this wasn’t one where you talk out loud. You stare out the transparisteel, and think back to the nightmare. The way your body could still physically feel the pain of a lightsaber piercing your skin.

You shudder at the thought, breaking away once you hear that familiar cooing sound coming from behind you. You turn around, and give the child a big smile which he returns. He reaches his arms out to be picked up. You grab him and return back to the pilot’s seat. He brings a small silver ball into his grasp with telekinetic energy. You stare down at him and he looks at you expectantly, holding the ball to his small chest.

“So he was right, you are a Jedi, a youngling. Where did you come from?” You rub a finger across his head, and gasp when a picture of the burning Jedi temple on Coruscant flashes before your eyes and then a small room filled with Imperials, you can almost feel the needles being poked at you as if you’re really there in the room. A sense of fear and anger washes over you.

“The force is very strong with you little one. I’m so sorry you had to go through such hardships. Mando and I will keep you safe and protected now. You have my word.” The child presses himself into you further, cradling the ball to his chest. He’s back to his happy self, cooing at the ball and pulling on your hair every so often. You stay in the pilot’s chair and hold the kid while he plays, you continuously watch the nav deck and flight computer while the stars and planets pass by you. It’s been close to 4 hours when you finally hear the familiar footsteps coming up the ladder. Mando appears, helmet on and regular clothes back in place. He holds 3 ration packs again. You stand up, the baby starts flailing when he sees Mando and well you aren’t really sure if it’s because of Mando or the food.

He doesn’t say anything, he just holds his finger out for the kid to grab and puts two ration packs into your hand before turning and sitting in the same spot he sat last time. You press your back into his and open the ration pack for the kid. He rips into it like we’ve never fed him before.

“We’re still on pace for Cantonica, we should be there in about 2 days.” You finally take your first bite of food, not realizing how hungry you were until you actually start eating.

“That’s good, hopefully catching this bounty doesn’t take too long, bounties usually end up in Canto Bight once they’re done running. Decide they want to go out with a big bang instead.” you nod at his words.

“When we land can you give me a blaster? I’d like to have one, just in case.”

“Yes.” You eat the rest of your food in silence. The child starts to get fussy, Mando puts his helmet back on and turns to grab the child out of your arms. He calms down once he’s in Mando’s arms, he must have missed him. You smile at the thought of Mando being so gentle with the small child that’s now calm and happy in his arms.

You return back to the pilot's chair to check the nav deck for the 1000th time. After a few minutes Mando sits in the chair next to you, with a sleeping child in his arms. You both sit there quietly for a while. Mando stands to put the kid back into his pram, he closes the top and turns back around to sit in the chair to your right.

“Din.” You turn your head with a slight frown and your eyebrows furrow at the man sitting beside you.

“What?” You’re confused by the simple word he just said.

“Yesterday, you said you wanted to scream my name while I fucked you. Next time I fuck you. I want you to use my actual name. My name is Din, Din Djarin.” You can't help the smile that spreads across your face at his confession, Din, his name is Din.

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal character #arahxdjarin masterlist

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tickle-bugs · 4 years ago

Text

Patience (and Silence) is a Virtue

Summary: In his commitment to restlessness, Anakin discovers something about Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan can't let him get away with that, of course.

Anon: Hi I don't know if you're taking prompts at the moment but would you consider writing a fic where Obi wan is tickling anakin, maybe where it's during the clone wars and anakin is being restless and teasing Obi wan so he decides to put him in his place?? Or something obviously if you're not taking prompts don't worry! But if you're that would be really cute

Do not tag this as ship. Don't do it.

Anakin had a critical inability to stay still, Obi-Wan noticed. He had become calmer and more focused under his wing, sure, but he was restless to his very core. Other Jedi masters would certainly have found his fidgeting to be a nuisance, something to be expunged--Obi-Wan saw it as human. For the things they’d seen and had to do, a little humanity was very welcome.

Except now, of course.

Anakin paced past Obi-Wan for nearly the twentieth time this hour--he’d been doing laps around the room at a speed that’d put any trooper to shame. Obi-Wan’s attempts at meditation had given him some measure of calm, but inner peace was hard to find with your protégé stomping past you every moment.

“We are wasting time.”

“There’s nothing to be done but wait,” Obi-Wan murmured, unwilling to release his patterned breathing.

“I can’t just sit around.” Anakin switched directions, pacing the other way.

“You are far too eager, Anakin.” Obi-Wan shifted slightly, but did not rise.

“And you are far too boring!” He snapped, but it held no real venom. Obi-Wan sighed deeply, dropping his head, and the relaxation promptly left his bones. He stood, brushing himself off, and Anakin watched him tensely.

“Perhaps a bit of sparring would do you some good.” Obi-Wan drew his lightsaber and beckoned him closer, already assuming a combat position. Anakin drew his, twirling it idly, and they circled each other.

For all of Anakin’s restlessness, he paid rapt attention in the field. Obi-Wan could see the gears turning in his head as they circled one another, waiting for Anakin to inevitably make the first move.

They exchanged a flurry of blows, sending blue sparks flying into the air around them. One of the strikes set Obi-Wan unexpectedly off-balance and Anakin used the opportunity to press his advantage, crowding in closer to force a surrender. Obi-Wan smirked--he could never resist playing dirty when an opportunity arose--and squeezed Anakin’s side. He yelped, lightsaber flying into the air, and Obi-Wan caught it, sheathed it, and clipped it to his belt. He tried not to look too amused at Anakin’s pinkened face.

“Do you yield?”

“Never.” Anakin smirked, rushing forward. He swung at Obi-Wan and he simply leaned to avoid it, hands tucked primly behind his back. A mistimed strike gave him an opening--he sidestepped and shoved Anakin forward and away.

“Your impatience will cost you if you aren’t careful. Again.” Obi-Wan readied himself as Anakin charged. Of course, he could never make things easy, but if he moved a tad slower to let Anakin get a few hits in? Ah, who’s to say.

Anakin locked Obi-Wan’s arm behind his back and started twisting out another forced surrender. It would’ve worked too, if Anakin’s stance didn’t leave his free hand wide open. Another lesson for another day, perhaps.

Obi-Wan reached back and grabbed at Anakin’s side, but he didn’t let up this time. He felt Anakin’s forehead smack into his back and heard the faint laughter floating up, but it took quite a few stubborn seconds for Anakin to actually let go.

“Excellent work.” Obi-Wan held out the captive lightsaber. Anakin took it gratefully.

“You absolutely cheated.” The silly smile on his face was contagious.

“I prefer calling it ‘alternative strategy’. Either way, you did well.” Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder.

“Thank you, Master.”

“Of course. Now, for my sanity, I implore you to clear your mind. I’m not sure how much more pacing I can take.” Obi-Wan took a seat on the ground, and when his padawan didn’t move, he patted the space next to him until Anakin followed suit.

He could sense Anakin’s mind slowing beside him, falling deeper into the tides of the Force, and the comfort of it enveloped him. Obi-Wan allowed himself to drift inwards. His spirit floated away from his physical form and deeper into his psyche, deeper into peace. Tension left him in droves. He inhaled.

The air punched out of him, though, when Anakin started poking his upper ribs. He tried not to startle so visibly, but it was a little late for that.

“Are you trying to accomplish anything in particular?” He cleared his throat. Anakin could smell weakness, he was certain of it.

“Juuust testing a theory.” Anakin’s prodding fingers marched down his ribs and his fingers twitched minutely.

“You will not find what you’re seeking.” Obi-Wan’s voice strained against his better intentions. It took all of his strength not to move and a little more to appear calm.

“Are you sure?” Anakin reached Obi-Wan’s sides and didn’t let up. He exhaled a little too hard. He couldn’t allow himself even a smile—Anakin would never let him live it down.

“Of course, I’m—“

A lone giggle shattered their dialogue.

“Woah.” Anakin beamed, slow and steady. The dangerous sparkle in his eye was about one of the only things that could make Obi-Wan nervous.

“Anakin, I’m warning you—“ He didn’t get to finish. Anakin’s hands darted through the various folds and layers of his robes, seeking easier purchase, and found a delightful (read: terrible) spot around his waistline that pulled snickers from him like fresh taffy. He folded forward, falling into fuller laughter at curious scribbles upon his stomach, and Anakin gasped in wonder.

This was so alien to him, a relic of a life long gone. He found himself trying and failing to break up a cage match between his human instincts and his Jedi ones. Had what little shred of pride he had not been at stake, he would’ve fallen over under Anakin’s absurdly nimble hands.

“This is the best day of my life.” Anakin laughed, letting his fingers slip beneath Obi-Wan’s arms, and the subsequent bark of laughter surprised them both.

It’s about to be your last. Though he couldn’t possibly stay mad at the way Anakin was lit up. Perhaps it would be alright to let him win. Just once in a while.

Not today, though.

“I wish you hadn’t done that.” He hit Anakin with a gentle pulse of the Force, enough to push him back. Anakin’s face settled into playful terror in real time and he fled, making a hopeless dash for the door. Obi-Wan watched him run--he’d gotten faster lately--before grabbing him by the belt with the Force and throwing him back across the room. He caught Anakin bodily in his arms.

“No, wait—“

“Consider this a lesson in patience, ambition, and sensitivity. Especially the latter.” Obi-Wan locked his arms around Anakin’s waist and lifted him clear off the ground, burying his fingers into as much torso as he could. He burst into squeaky laughter, rife with voice cracks, and threw his head back, narrowly avoiding cracking open Obi-Wan’s nose.

“Oh, looks like you may have a thing or two to teach me!” Obi-Wan grabbed handfuls of Anakin’s sides and he snorted around his next bout of laughter.

“Obi-Wan pleahahase!”

“You know I am not a stickler for rules, but do remember your manners. You could get in some nasty trouble.” He swept Anakin’s feet out from under him, still tickling, and lowered him to the ground, taking great care to avoid the flailing limbs.

“I’m gonna die!” Anakin fruitlessly scrabbled at Obi-Wan’s torso to get the upper hand. Obi-Wan hooked his arm around Anakin’s and pulled it up, exposing the perfect landing strip for pinching fingers.

“Nonsense. You’re so close to being free! Wiggle out from my grip there—oh, you’ve made it worse. Hm.” Obi-Wan clawed at Anakin’s stomach with two hands and an iron grip. Anakin tried to pry the evil hands away, but his strength and coordination had evacuated long ago.

He swung his legs back and forth, kicking wildly, and Obi-Wan was proud of the little momentum he had. It was a clever idea--using momentum to break free of the hold. A fruitless idea, but a clever one nonetheless. Obi-Wan crossed his arms over Anakin’s torso, burying his hands beneath his arms, and the resulting shriek had Obi-Wan chuckling.

“This is wonderfully endearing, Anakin, but not at all effective.” On the next swing, Obi-Wan caught Anakin’s knee and wormed his fingers behind it. Anakin threw his head back and cackled wildly, all bright smiles and nose-scrunched laughter, and Obi-Wan had no qualms with admitting how much the sight lifted his spirits.

“I see the problem. You’re laughing too hard to focus.”

“You thihink?” Anakin squinted at him.

“I do. Try laughing less and see where that gets you.” Obi-Wan rained a hail of pinches down upon his hips and the fight was lost. Anakin made a noise like a ship’s hyperdrive starting up and flailed hard—he caught Obi-Wan in the chest with a stray punch. An endless stream of high-pitched, hysterical giggles bubbled out of Anakin and he did his best to muffle them, but Obi-Wan’s fingers on his neck ensured that he couldn’t.

“You’re turning rather red. Is something the matter?” Gloating was unbecoming, sure, but the two of them had always done things a bit differently. Besides, this was beyond endearing. He’d earned a little teasing.

“I give!” Anakin yelped, scrunching as much as possible. Obi-Wan’s fingers slowed.

“Good. You seemed intent on passing out.” Obi-Wan poked his stomach and Anakin snickered.

“One day,” Anakin wheezed, “I am going to destroy you.”

“I would love to see you try.” Obi-Wan extended a hand towards Anakin, glowing with pride, and he took it.

Did Anakin’s promise send a minute shiver up his spine? Perhaps, but he was never one to turn down an entertaining fight.

#my fics #star wars #ticklish!obi wan #ticklish!anakin #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #i dont like this one all that much but im gonna give it a sequel! i think it's gonna be cute :)

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