#JUST. THE END IN GENERAL. I HAVE PAIN AND I AM COLD WITHOUT YOUR HEAT TO KEEP ME BOLD

[whatareyoudoingwithamaserati]

Hrrrrgh I am biting and ripping and tearing. This is so duality duo coded to me (song is Catharsis by alicebanD)

[covetyou]

honey, you're familiar

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Tess Servopoulos x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub-con, oral (f receiving), fingering, readers first time with another woman, one use of good girl, drug reference. word count: 3.3k summary: The first time your father struggles to afford his pills you figure you'll do what you can to help. All you need to do is find his dealer and talk to him, right? How difficult could a man like that be to find.

A/N: we needed more time with Anna Torv Tess. Like, a whole series more time.

prequel to something wretched about this. can be read as a stand-alone.

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divider by @saradika

Now's your chance. Probably fucking stupid really, pulling a stunt like this on a woman like her, but you don't know how else to reach her, where else to go. This is the best option you have. So you grab her arm.

Your fingers have barely clasped around her jacket when she's twisting, hand raised ready to back-hand whoever dared to grab her. You flinch back, waiting for the sting of pain across your cheek, but instead she hesitates, stopping herself from striking you.

Her face pinches into a confused frown, and she wrenches your hand from her arm, throwing it away from her like you're some dirty, filthy thing, and stalks off before you can say anything.

"Please..." you start, chasing after her, not even trying to be discreet. She rounds an alleyway, and suddenly she's grabbing you, dragging and pulling you down the street, away from prying eyes, up some stairs into what you thought was an abandoned apartment block and pushing you against a wall.

"The fuck do you want."

"I'm sorry for grabbing you, I am, I just need information and your name is the only one I have and I-"

"Who the fuck is giving you my name and what for," her hand raises again, and this time you think she might really do it.

"My dad! My dad, he's sick, he has a dealer who helps him, I just need his name, I need to go see him, dad's got bad again and I-"

She backs away from you to lean on the wall opposite as you speak, shaking her head at your rambling. You're clearly already giving her a fucking headache, and she pinches her nose and raises a palm to stop you. "Slow the fuck down."

"My dad is sick."

"I know who your daddy is, you don't need to tell me he's sick, I know. What I'm wondering is why his daughter is snooping around, grabbing people, asking for names she apparently doesn't know."

"I just need to know who his dealer is. We can't pay for the pills this month and I thought maybe if I spoke to him I could..." You trail off. You both knew just speaking to whoever your dads dealer was wouldn't be the end of it, it never was. The dream was you'd asked nicely and be given what you asked for, but the reality was you probably wouldn't get it without giving something first.

"And you got my name how?"

"My dad mentioned... you?"

"Right," she says, biting back a laugh, before pushing herself away from the wall she'd been leaning on and clapping her hands. "Well, you're in luck. I'm feeling generous, and I think I can point you in the right direction. Come with me."

You follow, like a dog on a bitch in heat, practically running after her as she strides down the hallway, yanking open a door and pushing you inside. She doesn't bother to look around, knowing full well the building is cold and abandoned for a reason.

You walk further into the room as she enters behind you. There's an old desk and chair on one side, and scraps of wood, old broken furniture and stacks of chairs littered around the edges, pushed against the walls. Once upon a time it would have been a make shift office space, but now it was nothing better than a grimy, long forgotten storage room.

You turn just in time to see her propping a chair under the door handle. You stare at it as she walks past you, taking a seat at the desk. Raising a heavy booted foot up on the worn wooden edge and clasping her hands together, she looks at you with a gleam in her eyes, resting her elbows on the arms of the chair.

"So," she begins with a smirk, as a thread of realization starts to crawl up your spine. "How can I help you?"

Shit. Shit. Your dad didn't give her name because she was a friend, she was his fucking dealer. If he'd been honest with you, told you when you asked who was helping him instead of being so cagey about it, this never would have happened. You wouldn't be stuck in this room with Tess, skirting around the fact you definitely were not willing to offer your body in exchange for your fathers medication.

You quickly realize there is no way to recover from this, no way to back track or back out now. She's going to give you shit for this, you just know it, and you're going to be sent out of here humiliated and with nothing to show for it. You might have even ruined it all for your dad. The thought makes your head swim and bile rise in your throat.

You gape at her for a while and she stares back, challenging you to say something, anything, to her.

"Look," you start, trying to laugh it off, lighten the mood. "I think I've got things mixed up, so I'll just -"

"So you'll what?" she laughs cruelly. "You thought you could come find his dealer, drop to your knees, suck a dick, and get your daddies pills for free."

"I didn't - I never -"

"Do it then," she says from her seat. "Get on your knees."

You stop and start a few times, but no words come to mind. There is no way out of this. So, you slowly sink to your knees in the middle of the dusty room. You're going to get those pills.

As your knees bite into the grit on the floor you watch as her head tips to rest on the back of the chair and her shoulders softly shake, her laughter filling the room.

"Cute," she says, looking back at you, leaning forward and beckoning you toward her with two fingers. "Come here, pretty girl," she croons. "And I don't remember saying you could stand up."

You shuffle over to her on your knees, trying to keep your balance so your hands don't touch the gritty floor.

"You're going to do something for me, and then I'm going to do something for you, okay?"

"Okay," you nod in agreement, unable to make eye contact with her. That is what you came out today for after all, though you can't say the change in anatomy was expected.

"And then when you leave here, you keep your mouth shut, are we clear?"

You bite down on your lips and nod at her from the floor, looking every bit as pathetic as you feel. None of this is going how you'd planned, and you're not sure if that's for better or for worse.

"Ever eaten pussy," she asks, pulling her jacket from around her. You look up at her and shake your head, feeling impossibly small as you sink even further down on your knees. You hadn't, but had thought about it, wanted it, just never found a person to do it with, and certainly never expected to be doing it now.

"Well then, sweetie, you better be a quick learner."

She unzips her pants and pulls them under her ass, yanking them to her knees. It's all so quick you don't have time to register what's going on until her hand is on you.

"Come here," she grabs at your arm, pulling you closer as she kicks her pants to her ankles and slides back in the chair. She yanks you forward, lifts her legs over your head and pulls you in toward her with the fabric caught around her ankles. You're caged in now, trapped between her pants and her cunt, and you are totally, utterly, stunned.

"Don't, wouldn't... wouldn't a... man be better?" you stutter, trying to keep your eyes on hers and not between her legs. It's a stupid question, you know it, but you're nervous and stalling for more time doesn't seem like such a bad idea.

"If I wanted a man, I would get a man. More trouble than they're worth most of the time. You gonna try to stick your dick in me, pretty girl?"

She grabs your chin, and when you don't answer she clicks her tongue at you, pulling your face down between her legs.

"Didn't think so."

You finally look down between her soft thighs. You hadn't seen if she was wearing panties, for all you knew she was going commando under her jeans, but now here she was completely bare before you. Seeing another woman like this was strange, but not unwelcome. If you'd had more time, and the circumstances had been a bit different, you would have liked to have spent more time just looking at her. You'd never seen one up close before, only glimpsing your own as you looked down your body. Given the chance you know you would spend hours here between her legs just looking, exploring.

But that wasn't what this was, and as beautiful as Tess was, this was business.

You cast one last tentative look up as you slowly lower your face to her cunt, catching her eyes as she looks down expectantly at you.

You press your lips to her inner thigh as she watches, kissing as close to her center as you can be without touching, and let out a shaky breath. That's the first hurdle dealt with, but nerves still bubble in your belly. You kiss her soft skin once more, nosing at the sensitive flesh and breathing in her heady scent.

"Mm. Well, shit, that feels nice," she sighs, letting her head fall back and closing her eyes. You do it again, spurred on by her approval and the growing wetness between your own legs, feathering kisses all around the outside of her cunt, chaining them together so eventually you're mouthing around her delicate skin. You let your tongue peak out as your lips meander across her flesh, leaving wet trails in your wake as you move.

You psych yourself up, just go for it, taste her, do it, she wants it, what could go wrong, before you finally take the dive and lick a delicate strip through her folds. She tastes similar to you, but not quite. You give her another gentle lick, your wet tongue curiously lapping at her entrance before you move up, up, up, and press a soft kiss to her clit. Her entire body relaxes and shifts down in the chair, her legs spreading further over the arms, giving you more access and her tangled feet pushing into your back to pull you in closer.

You kiss it again, and again, before you let your tongue slip out to lap softly at the sensitive nub, licking upwards in slow strokes and dragging your bottom lip across it. You suckle on her clit for a little before releasing, wishing desperately now that you had something between your own legs too.

Feeling bolder, you lick a broader stripe across her cunt, your breath getting caught in your throat, and coming out as a small moan. Tess's sigh in response is all you need to start devouring her, dipping your tongue into her slick hole. You let your hand come up to pull her apart, making it easier for you to lap at her folds. You know your actions are unrefined, messy, but as she starts to moan above you you don't care. You feel as lost in it as she is, imagining how this would feel. A soft face and delicate fingers between your thighs. Gentle, feminine moans dancing softly across your pussy. You groan into her wet heat at the thought, rocking your hips into the empty air in an effort to chase some kind of relief.

"Keep moaning all pretty like that and anyone would think you like eating pussy."

Your eyes catch hers, dark and fiery, staring down at you. You want to tell her you do like it, you'd dreamed of it, wanted to do it so many times before but never had the chance. The most you'd ever done with a woman involved gentle kisses and light touches - thrilling at the time, but nothing compared to being between another woman's thighs. You don't dare take your mouth off of her to tell her any of it, so you moan again mumble a mhm into her, bringing your other hand to her thigh to grip as you do.

You let your grip anchor you down, slow your movements. The few times a man had bothered doing this to you, their rapid sloppy movements felt good, but not enough. Of all the times you'd gotten yourself off, you needed precision and repetition to get there, and now that you'd had a taste and indulged your own desires, you wanted to give Tess what she wanted, what you'd agreed to. You wanted to make her come.

Your fingers stroke at her pussy, and you bring your mouth back to her clit, licking and sucking once again. Your circle it gently, all around and then gently spiralling in to the center. You stay there, keeping your tongue circling in small, soft, circles feeling as her thigh begins to quiver beneath your hand.

"That's it," she sighs, and you preen at the praise, moaning into her clit to let her know you'll keep going, won't stop until she says otherwise.

It's not long before her hand comes to your face, stroking your cheekbone. She pulls you back, unlatching you from her clit. Swallowing and licking your lips for remnants of her, you look up in confusion.

"Give me your fingers now, pretty girl. Put them in."

Oh. Right. Of course. You let go of her thigh and trace your fingers around her entrance, watching in amazement as you circle them in her wetness. Your body looked like this too, got wet just like she did. You tease at her opening for a moment, knowing how good it felt for yourself when you tickled yourself like this, before you slip one in just a fraction, wiggling it slightly as you tease her. A second finger joins the first, and you're soon pushing two small fingers into her cunt.

She feels different to you inside. You'd never even considered it, that any would feel anything other than like yours, but when you push your fingers into her, the ridges and smooth surfaces you were expecting aren't where you thought they'd be. The familiarity was there, but you didn't know hers like you knew yours.

Her eyes are closed again when you next look up, pumping your fingers slowly into her. You bring your face back down to her clit, keeping your eyes locked on her face as you latch back over the sensitive spot and suck. She gasps, her feet clamping down on your back even firmer pushing your face straight into her cunt. You start to lick at her, going back to soft circles around her clit as your fingers pump shallowly in her wet pussy.

You don't relent this time, and she doesn't drag you back. Instead, her hand finds its way to the back of your head, holding you in place as you suckle on her clit and finger her cunt in tandem, bringing her closer and closer to climax. The muscles inside her soon start to clench, her clit start to twitch in your mouth.

You're eager now, as if you weren't before, letting your circles on her clit become firmer as you moan wantonly into her folds. You're breathing deep through your nose, mouth engulfing her cunt, devouring her with each stroke of your tongue.

Her own moans are softer, less desperate, than your own. But then her hips start to rock into your mouth, and you know she's close. You don't change a thing, keeping the movement of your fingers and your tongue the same as she rocks against your mouth, using you to get herself off.

"Yes, yes, yes," she whispers through soft moans. "That's it, pretty girl. Good girl. Fuck, yes. Yes."

The pumping of your fingers gets impossible as her whole body stiffens, pussy gripping your fingers in tight spasms as she comes, hips gyrating into your face faster until her legs are clamping around your ears. You keep going, suckling at her clit with your fingers buried in her cunt until her hips are trying to move away from you, to get away from the oversensitivity brought on by your mouth.

"Ohh."

You pull back from her pussy, gasping for air, and looking up at her once again as your fingers still inside her. The furrow between her brows has relaxed, and even in the dull light of the room she looks beautiful, peaceful.

"Good job," she murmurs, patting the side of your cheek. She pulls your cream covered fingers out from inside her, pushing them toward your mouth. You slide them between your lips, cleaning off her cum as she watches. Just like the ones before it, you can't help the moan that falls from your lips as you taste her.

A moment later, she's lifting her legs up onto the table and motioning for you to move. You shuffle out from between them, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you try to ignore the throbbing of your own pussy. That was it then. You'd done it. Why were you disappointed it was over?

You stand and brush the dust off your knees with your dry hand as she pulls her pants back up and zips them up. You don't look at her, you don't want to be caught watching, so you trace the path of a dust mote dancing in a sunbeam that has broken through an old board on the window.

"Definitely a quick learner," she says, walking toward you. If she knows how wet eating her pussy had made you, she doesn't let on.

Her cheeks are flushed a deeper shade of pink than when she'd first dragged you in here. You briefly wonder if you walked out of here together, maybe people would know what you'd been up to. But, her soft face and relaxed features don't last long, and she slips the mask back on, brows furrowing at you as she moves the chair from under the door handle.

"Not that I think you'll tell anyone you had your face buried in someone's cunt, but if you do, your daddy will be going cold turkey. I don't do this, we clear? Even for pretty girls like you," she says, depositing a small bag of pills into your hand. "Now, get going."

You grip the bag in your damp fingers as you walk home, hoping it'll all be enough to get your father through another few weeks in the QZ.

It took a few days for your dad to get back on his feet again, but once he started there was no stopping him. He never asked you about the pills, and you never told him. It seemed both of you could be cagey when you wanted to be. You also knew that if he needed it, you'd go do it again in a heartbeat.

Collection day comes and goes, and he's strolling in the door, depositing a small container of pills onto your dining table as you pull together a meager dinner.

"Shame to see her go," he says with a soft smile, patting your shoulder in his usual greeting.

You stop in your tracks. "Who?" You'd lost a lot of people over the years, and it was never good news when it happened.

"Tess. She's stopping dealing with that side of the business," he says, pointing to the pills on the table. "Said she'd pass me over to her 'business associate'. I'm meeting with him next Thursday. Nothing should change, but we'll see how it goes."

"'Business associate'?"

He's already grabbed some food, stuffing it into his mouth in a big bite before he answers. "Joel Miller."

Fuck.

Tag List: given it's not the usual p-boy content I haven't tagged any of you this week.

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[kaeyx]

Yan!Chuuya drabble - pt.2

Warnings: reader is gn, mentions of being wet but nothing else. Smut, noncon, somno, drugging, thigh fucking, mentions of kidnapping

Notes: I am absolutely obsessed with this man. No thoughts head empy

You're sitting in the armchair by the window, curled up with a book in your lap. Triumphantly he notices it's one of the new ones he got you, because he thought you'd like the story.

He's already jacked off twice today, heat pooling in his lower stomach as his thoughts returned to you again and again during work, when he ran errands after, when he cooked dinner. Chuuya's legs shook as he mixed another dose of the off white powder in with your food, the front of his pants already tight. Shamefully enough just the thought of you so limp, pliant and easy, warm under the covers of his bed, in his home, waiting for him, it makes his head spin. Chuuya knocks and waits for your quiet "come in".

"Hi, sweetheart. How was your day?" He says gently, setting the plate down on the desk, his eyes running over your figure.

You curl into yourself with a little frown, clutching the book tighter. You're no longer reading it, but still pretending to.

"I didn't do much today." You're in shorts. Shorts and a shirt that slips off one shoulder and to Chuuya that's more delectable than anything he could have dressed you in himself. "Just papers, really. I'm glad you're enjoying your book." He sticks his hands in the pockets of his tracksuit, thanking everything that it's a little big on him.

You turn your head away, looking out across the shining lights of Yokohama. He wishes more than anything that you'd just smile at him, say hi in passing like you used to do.

"Sleep well, doll. And eat before the food goes cold." Chuuya says gently, slipping back out of your room and sliding the lock closed.

He sprawls out on the couch after pouring himself some wine, sighing deeply and brushing some hair from his forehead. The pain and regret are a dull twinge by now, lingering in his heart but overshadowed by the vision of you. If only one day you could greet him with a smile. Chuuya eats in silence and downs another generous glass, pressing his thighs together every so often. You'd be eating too by now. And the little surprise would take effect soon after that. He feels another throb in his pants and sighs, eyeing the clock on the wall. Not yet. The last thing he wants to do is scare you. He washes up while he waits, leaving the dishes to dry as he strains his ears for any noise.

The darkened inside of his room is familiar, and your shape on the bed welcome. You seem to have only half covered yourself before passing out, and he carefully pulls the covers up your chest before sliding in behind you, to make sure you're warm.

"I'm back, doll," he murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist and slotting himself against you. "Sorry I got home so late. It's hell having all the finances in order at this time of year."

"Enough about that depressing shit though," Chuuya interrupts himself, squeezing you and kissing the back of your head. "Don't wanna think about that when I'm with you."

Carefully, reverently, he moves his hand down to your leg. Your shorts end and he meets the skin of your thigh, a sigh catching in his throat. His warm hand splays across your skin, his fingers flexing gently.

"You feel so nice..." he breathes against your skin, kissing the back of your neck, over the bump of your vertebrae. He's already begun to move without realising it, his hand sliding around to the inside of your thigh until he can just about trap his fingers between the soft flesh of your legs. He moves, drawing small circles with his hips and rubbing his length over the swell of your ass.

Chuuya has to muffle a groan into your shoulder, his whole body jerking forward and curling around you. He almost wants to keep going just like this, like last time, keep rutting against you until he can't anymore, but he can't waste the opportunity.

Very carefully he wriggles his sweatpants down to his knees, the action made more awkward because he refuses to pull away from you for even a second. As soon as he can he's nestling his cock against the backs of your thighs, whining at the feeling of skin on skin. It's a bit hard to move without any lube and he belatedly wishes he had some in reach but he's not going to go fetch it now, too intoxicated by your smell and your warm, soft thighs pressing against him.

A soft, musical moan vibrates in Chuuya's chest, his hips wriggling as he tries to slot himself between your thighs. One of his hands wraps around your knee and lifts your leg just enough to make space for himself, whining, pressing his trembling lips to the back of your neck.

"Oh, sweetheart," he groans, cock twitching uncontrollably. "You're so fucking good to me... so pretty.... so- oh- so good... Can't last when I'm thinking about you..."

His hair is in a tangle around you both, his pace getting choppy fast as your warm thighs hug his length. He can't move too fast or the friction will hurt which is just sending Chuuya into an agony of need, desperation pooling in his stomach.

"Gh- god, I wish you were awake." Another sigh and he bites his lip, his brows knitting together. "Wish I could fuck you like you deserve, spoil you so much... promise I'd take good care of you sweetheart, as much as you wanted." The promises are whispered against your neck as his voice begins to waver, his skin prickling, chest tight and warm with desperation.

"Wouldn't need lube, I'd make you so fuckin' wet..." Chuuya is rambling by now, nearly growling into your ear. Just a little more, just a few more strokes.

His cum splatters all over your thighs and the sheet, a breathless keen of your name being ripped from his throat as his hips twitch uncontrollably. Chuuya's breaths come short and sharp, gasping, his mouth pressed against you. He lets a few long, open-mouthed kisses linger on your shoulders as the high recedes and his bedroom swims back into focus. It's very warm under the covers now, almost uncomfortably so, but he doesn't have it in him to move just yet.

Chuuya lets your leg go and curls a hand possessively around your hip, massaging the soft flesh. He sighs contentedly, feeling the fuzzy buzz of ecstasy spreading through his entire body. He could almost fall asleep like this, your warm body tangled securely with his, his senses full of you. One day, one day he might.

[hazelkjt]

quarrel — for the single-word drive!

"Quarrel- A heated argument or disagreement, typically about a trivial issue and between people who are usually on good terms."

Light snowfall danced upon the winds at Falcon's Nest, the sun fighting its never ending battle to pierce the clouds. The cold atmosphere usually gets to Hazel, but something else was currently on her mind at the moment. Someone else, more specifically. As the Au Ra waited by the airship landing zone for the next flight back to Ishgard, her gaze was fixated on a certain young Elezen tending to his bruises and aches. Despite the obvious pain he was in, Emmanellain de Fortemps had a curious smile across his face. "Ugh...I know I had asked you not to hold back against me old girl, but you may have gone overboard this time." He remarked to Hazel with a pained chuckle in his voice. The Auri woman turned her face away from the man and scrunched her nose. "I have no idea what you mean, I sparred the same way I always do." She spoke while trying her best to keep her disdain as low as she could, to little effect. There it was again. "OId girl." A term of endearment Emmanellain used for his female friends, however few he has. Hazel knew she shouldn't hold it against him for using it with her, she knows that...but regardless...

"...or perhaps the fact that you have been fighting more fiercely of late means I truly am improving! Lady Laniaitte is sure to take notice!" And the mention of her brings Hazel back to Emmanellain's rambling she was ignoring. Hazel turned back to face the Elezen, the look on her face enough to wipe the dazed grin from his. "Is something the matter, old girl?" He asked, genuine confusion in his voice. Hazel had kept her mouth shut for as long as she could, but just couldn't stand it anymore. She stands up, hands curling into fists as she stares daggers at Emmanellain. "How long do you intend to keep living in your own little fairy tale about her? There's no fucking way you're this dense. You've got something resembling a brain in there, Emm." A slight scowl formed on her face as she began to air her frustrations. Emmanellain stops rubbing his bruised ribcage and leans back on the ground, breaking eye contact with Hazel. "I...haven't the slightest what you mean, haha!" He forces a smile to the surface, but the shaking in his voice gives it away. So Hazel continues to press the subject. "Oh come on Emm, it's the most obvious thing on the star. She doesn't care for you! At all! You're just a nuisance to her!" Emmanellain begins to stand and opens his mouth to respond, but Hazel cuts him off, taking a step closer and folding her arms. "No matter how much you try and improve or impress her, it won't work! So why in all the hells are you so determined to try and woo her when-" Hazel suddenly stops mid-sentence. Idiot! What, were you really gonna say 'when I'm right here!?' How stupid can you get!?

The pained look in the Elezen's eyes is quickly discarded as he lets out another chuckle, closing them with a self-assured smirk rising on his lips. "Ah, old girl, you must be mistaken. Love is not something that is created in an instant, and...let us call it general annoyance is not the natural opposite of love. The fates call Lady Laniatte and I together, and one day-" Hazel cuts him off once more with a stomp of her foot, tail flying up behind her in anger. "Would you wake up already, dumbass!? Even you can't be stupid enough to believe that!" Emmanellain's brow furrows, but his smile remains. He opens his eyes to make contact with Hazel's, but her intense stare quickly makes him avert his gaze to the side. The young man is more visibly flustered, playing with an end of his hair for a moment before continuing. "Ahh...well...have you ever heard of the expression 'Tis better to give love without receiving love, than to never have loved at all?' Quite the simple yet powerful saying, I would say." Hazel's tail drops in surprise, she hadn't expected him to give in so quickly. "...So you do know? Then why the hells do you keep trying when you could be giving your 'love' to someone who'd be happy to give some back!?" The Au Ra's cheeks slowly turn a light shade of pink as she processes what she just said. "I think um-y'know, uh-I mean, there's gotta be someone out there!" She stammers, cursing her voice for getting a little higher pitched and her tail for beginning to sway side to side.

The smile fades from Emanellain's face for a moment before another takes its place, one very obviously forced. He scoffs and crosses his arms. "What, others interested in me? When my much more esteemed and accomplished brother is right there as well? That's quite a reach, old girl." Hazel's nose scrunches again as she frowns. "Stop calling me that..." She mutters under her breath, but the flash of confusion on the Elezen's face makes it clear he heard her.

Eager to change the subject, Hazel once again glares at Emmanellain. She could feel her anger getting to a boiling point. "I thought you were past this whole comparing yourself to Artoirel thing? You don't have to be better than him at anything! Just a better you!" The young Elezen rolls his eyes and runs a hand through his hair. "Oh, do not misunderstand me old girl-ah, apologies. Hazel. I am quite comfortable with who I am...comfortable enough I suppose. But as you said yourself, I am not that big of a fool. His reputation precedes him, as my reputation precedes me." Hazel found herself grinding her teeth as the man continued, her temper rising once again. "I understand well enough why those seeking courtship would not give me more than a passing glance. And I have made peace with that...so I instead give my love to those around me, even if I receive none in return." A sad smile rises on his features as Emmanellain brings his arms up, as is presenting himself. "After all who would harbor love for a man like me?" And there it was, her breaking point. With a growl and her tail pointed straight upwards in anger, Hazel lunges forward and grabs the straps of Emmanellain's armor. The Elezen became wide-eyed in both confusion and fear as Hazel glared at him, her cheeks beginning to burn bright red...and tears beginning to form in her eyes. Before the man could say anything or push her away, she yelled directly in his face.

"I DO, YOU IDIOT!"

Emmanellain could only stare in shock as Hazel fought back tears. "Wh-" his question was interrupted by Hazel pulling him into a tight hug. "I love you..." Her voice was barely more than a whisper, he could barely make out what she had said. The two stood there in silence, only the occasional sniffle from Hazel to break the quiet atmosphere around them. Eventually, Emmanellain spoke up. "...How long?" He asked, still too shocked to return the hug he was receiving...alongside the aches and pains from training.

Hazel prepared herself to answer by taking a few deep breaths, loosening her bear hug on the bruised man ever so slightly. "I don't remember when...but it's been a while..." She weakly gets out, slightly louder than before. Emmanellain is finally able to close his gaping mouth and begins to stir, hesitating still however. "Me?...are you sure?" The uncertainty in his voice was clear as day, almost as if he was also about to cry.

Hazel responded by holding him tighter in her arms. "Shut up and hug me back already." With a strained chuckle, Emmanellain slowly brought his arms around the Au Ra, taking a deep breath himself. "Of course." And with his final words, the two stayed in silence while awaiting the airship, both oblivious to the streak of sunlight breaking through the dull grey of the clouds.

[nyxthejinx]

ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅ 1 | ꜱʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ ᴡᴀʟᴋ

Wowowow another short and cryptic chapter!! If it doesn't make sense it means it's working :) it will- in due time. For now I just wanna smooch my loves 😔

[ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ ] You're not part of the script, they must get rid of you. But will the Hunters become the hunted once your true nature is revealed?

[ ᴛᴡ ] talking about dying in the beginning with some graphic description (lots of nihilism on reader's part), generic description of blood, smoking, Kafka lil kissie mwah, lemme know if I'm forgetting anything (it's 5 am 🙃) finally baby Blade enters the scene!!!

[ ꜰᴛ. ] Kafka x GN!Reader x Blade

[ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ] 718

ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ᴊᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ!

ʏᴏᴜ’ᴠᴇ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ʟᴏᴏᴋꜱ ʟɪᴋᴇ.

If it wore a sword’s, a knife’s or a gun’s clothes. If it appeared as a bottomless pit, staring at the depths of existence, or if it looks like the ground inching closer the more you lose altitude.

You think of sidereal space and the cold it harbours, of those fifteen to thirty seconds necessary to run out of oxygen, of those twelve to twenty-six hours it takes for the body heat to disperse, in the lack of atmosphere.

You imagine how it would be to be torn apart, choked, burned, have your flesh chewed to its bones. You imagine a pain that finally ceases, once the body has been slaughtered.

Going to sleep without the risk of waking up again: you project the image in your mind.

Before Kafka bursts your little bubble, dragging you back into the elevator.

“Your death will not be vain, Drifter. It serves for a greater cause."

She smiles in the corner of your eye, pristine and serene as if she wasn’t asking —ordering— you to die for her cause. Kafka is an amazing dancer when it comes to sticking to the choreography, lest the outcome steer away from what her master foresees.

No matter what it takes. Who it takes: the script has been set in stone already.

Too bad death is the last of your concerns, and so are her empty, poorly crafted words.

“I don’t really care.” You shrug.

Kafka’s brows shoot up in mild surprise, but she’s chuckling the next second already. Her eyes wrinkle at the sides, her shoulders shake gently— the radiant darkness of her soul glows brighter than ever and she’s just something else, straight out of this world.

“Are you mad at me?” She inquires, unfolding her arms to run a knuckle over your cheek.

Trying to process her words feels so impossible under her touch. Your feelings have long faded like cheap colours, brush strokes watered down by time, flowing into a grey puddle at your feet. There’s something stirring inside your chest, you know it- but how can you name it when your skin tingles and your knees go weak?

It’s not fair. But you lean in anyway, letting your eyes fall shut briefly. “Does it matter?”

“Not really, no.” She sighs. “Frilly words won’t change a thing, especially yours.”

“A kiss would, though.” You place a hand over hers, flutter your lashes gingerly. “I’d die with a silly grin on my face.”

“That can be arranged.”

Her smiling lips lock on yours, gentler than last time. There’s no love, no passion, no longing nor lust— it feels like a sorry kiss, a consolation prize, a sop to prevent rebellion. But it’s also one to be broken reluctantly, as both her hands drag you deeper by the jaw and trace your cheekbones with unexpected tenderness.

Maybe there was personal pleasure hiding behind her sense of duty, that night. But it ends all too soon and you will never tell.

Kafka leans back, cleaning the smeared gloss from the corner of your mouth. You glance at the panel in the elevator, see that you’ve almost reached the final destination.

If the Hunter is saddened, she doesn’t show it.

She's busier rummaging through the pocket of her coat now, as she pulls out a cigarette tin you know very well; it’s yours, just like the smoke she extends to your lips. You hold it gladly, waiting for her to light it.

“It wasn’t my choice.” Kafka whispers, voice delicate like the flame of your lighter.

Once the cigarette burns to life, you don't waste time— you inhale until your lungs are full of cloves with a hint of cinnamon, until it invades your senses and makes your mind dizzy in a way that never gets old. It tastes of memories you can’t remember, dreams yet to be dreamed, but most of all nostalgia you have no reason to experience.

"I know." You exhale eventually, as your shoulders sag. “Just remember me, even if it’s meaningless.”

Kafka smiles yet again, brushes your cheek as her other hand returns the two items to you. Inside the pocket above your heart.

And your lips quirk in the slightest, before the elevator stops at the floor where your blood will spill.

-

"Another one like you, Bladie." Kafka ponders, staring at the merging skin of your freshly wounded neck.

The puddle growing at your knees and the crimson path staining your clothes would convince anyone that a life was taken, today.

But the iridescent purples and blues lining your blood tell another story.

The story of someone who's walked across this universe for many years. Centuries, millenniums even.

Someone just like him.

Who Blade sees smiling at him, as if his sword wasn't dripping with their blood.

"Not yet, so it seems."

DON'T copy/repost my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

[worldswithoutendings]

Eye for an eye. [Michael Langdon] PT.2

and there we go again! I really enjoy writing for him so I want to continue this into a series!

Pairing: Michael Langdon x female!reader

warning: alcohol

summary: after Michael left you his coat, things start to shift for you.

The next morning you woke up, feeling heavy and hot due to Michael’s coat you were still wearing. His scent lingered in your hair and bedsheets. You could rule the world one day you started to have flashbacks from when you met Satan when you were 15. And started to feel the similar pain you were feeling in that time period. You thought you’d gotten better, you’ve been going to therapy for almost 6 years now. Just endless sessions of talking, light therapy, and even more talking. Such much talking that you started to talk to yourself in public situations. I’m going crazy.

You stand up from your bed, taking off Michael’s coat ‘Versace? At least he has good taste’ you mumble as you fold it nicely only to see a card fall out of his coat, you curse softly as you pick it up and try to put it back without peeking, but it piqued your interest. It only had a phone number on it ‘What if it’s his? No, that would be weird and so freaking selfish of him to walk around with a note with his phone number on it” You laughed at your own comment, putting it next to his coat on your table as you get ready for the day.

When you come back from work you had this gnawing feeling in your stomach ‘It’s a freaking Versace coat, he definitely wants to have that back right?’ you mumble as you walk towards your door. Only to see the living room light on ‘That’s… awkwardly strange’ You weren’t even in your living room this morning so to have the light on is exceptionally freaky.

Once you are inside you hang your coat ‘You do know, that this coat was last season?’ you hear a voice behind you making you scream ‘god damn it! you almost send me straight to your father’ you bluntly say as you grab your chest. Michael looks at you with fascination ‘Hello y/n’ ‘Hi Mr Lang-“ ‘-Michael, I don’t need the coat’ You look at him questionably ‘Then, why are you here?’ ‘you made a deal with my father, right?’ ‘Yeah, a stupid one, eleven years ago. Oh please give me a love life give me a break’ you laugh as you take your boots off and walk to the kitchen ‘Can I interest you in holy water?’ ‘Are you dumb?-‘ ‘Vodka’ you shake the bottle to show him ‘Are you an alcoholic?’ he says with furrowing brows

‘am I not allowed to drink? I thought 21 was the legal age’ ‘doesn’t immediately have to make you an alcoholic’ ‘Oh come on, you eat human hearts for fun, I can drink alcohol until my kidney stops’ ‘Please stop drinking alcohol like water’ he compels you to drain the glass bottle you just open ‘damn don’t you know how expensive that one was?!’ ‘you got it as a gift from your other alcoholic friends, cut it out’ you stand still in your kitchen why are we fighting like a married couple, no, nope. Y/n get that out of your head ‘So exactly why are you here?’ your voice softens as Michael walks into your kitchen to get you both a glass of water “Well, I talked with my father. He says you have the potential to be powerful”

“Mr. Langdon. no offense, the last time he saw me, I was fifteen years old, fifteen. The drive I had back then. Is long gone. It took too long. I’ve waited too long” you sigh as you sit down. Michael stands in front of you as he puts the glasses down ‘Besides. He told me that I would be “the bride to end all days” Give me a break” You laugh but you see how Michael holds tighter onto the glasses “he said what”

After Michael left you were confused. You still didn’t have an answer to why Michael really was there, it mostly felt like a job interview, a very cold job interview. He wanted to know your general interest, just like you did with his. But there wasn’t really a mood going on. The room got more heated until he left. To leave you shivering on the couch where he left you. Without the coat “Oh, you can text me, but I can’t guarantee you to answer back. I’m not really a tech guy’ he said when he left. Making you laugh, how can someone who is close to your own age not be familiar with tech? But you were right, he did keep a note with his number in his pocket. Making you giggle when you look at it, pathetic. But yet you felt this weird feeling in your stomach to just start texting, he basically broke into your home, so you can definitely text him.

So, you really don’t want your coat back?

It would be a waste of a perfect coat to be here neatly folded. Waiting for his owner. You put it on to see how it suits you and you can’t help but to be in awe. It’s a very pretty coat. You heard your phone buzz

I can miss this coat, besides. You look prettier in it

You turn to your window to see a shadow disappear immediately

So you’re going to make an Edward Cullen move on me? Classic

Who is that?

I didn’t think you were much of a texter Mr. Langdon

Michael.

At least send me a link of your perfume.

You hear a familiar laugh going through your head. One you hadn’t heard in years. The hairs on your neck start to stand up as you look in the mirror to see the sky change to red ‘Here we go again’ you mumble.

“So here we are. Eleven years later” “Still not married,” you say melodic as you tilt your head. Satan sits down on his throne “Patience, my child. Patience is a virtue” “Yeah for someone who wants to end the world you do indeed have a lot of patience” “Hey! He is a work in progress, he needs to commit” “Are you talking about your son?”

“who else my child? You’re ready” “I’m far from ready,” you say as you want to put Michaels's coat more over your body but you realise you are not wearing it “I did that for you, it would smell like smoke when you would come back. Break your tiny heart” “Oh he has feelings!” you gasp making him laugh followed by tutting “y/n, y/n, you still haven’t lost your fifteen-year-old temper” “It actually became worse” you admit “he needs that, the girl he is right now is just a doll. Don’t worry, he’ll get rid of her before you know it” “Why? He literally said that she was going to be his wife soon? Isn’t he in love with her?” “y/n, he needs her for something else. He just doesn’t realize yet” Satan says as he plays with what looks like a heart “he wants this, the most. For the ritual. The ritual” “what ritual?” “you’ll find out my child,” Satan says as he flicks his hand, and within no time you are back in your room, only to hit your head on the wall while losing balance. You hiss in pain as your phone buzzes again. This time it was your best friend

Haven’t heard from you in a while, fill me in

Why don’t you just come over Julie.

Within fifteen minutes she stood in front of your door. With a bottle of red wine “No offense, Julie. But the antichrist forbid me to drink” You roll your eyes and Julie laughs loudly “The antichrist?! y/n come on” “It’s true-“ you sigh “Come” The both of you walk to the living room where you fill her in

“damn, y/n, when you said you made a deal I thought you were experimenting with drugs!” Julie says after you showed her the coat, including the note “Can, can I text him? Just for fun, maybe he is a bot?” “Be my guest” you say as you sit back down on the couch. You see how Julie immediately starts to text him but you get this sour taste in your mouth “damn what is in this wine?” “I thought you loved it!  it’s the one I always buy” “Something is off with it” you say as you pull a sour face “I don’t think it’s an actual number, y/n” Julie says as she shows her phone to show an out-of-order message by the provider.

--

i'd love to hear feedback from you! x

[shattersstar]

Bestie it is me, the anon from a couple of days ago, many mutual kisses for my favorite tumblr writer!!! I am a teensy weensy (read: very much) cross faded and was wondering if you would be willing to write just a little thing with the “desperate kiss in the rain” prompt from the list featuring Jason Todd or Adrian Tepes? I feel the need to be In My Feelings about fictional romance lmao

ghost of love

pairing: jason todd x reader

prompt: a desperate kiss in the rain

a/n: wrote this stoned lmaoo so twins <3 and thank u for the request ur so kinddd im actually p happy with this so here goes my first fic of 2023 besties. feedback is always appreciated!!!

—

Ghost of love bound unto your name

So it be running through my veins

Yesterday I fell out of grace

I made you feel bad again

I wanted all your reasons explained

Guess I wanted too much

Guess I wanted too much

—

Spring had made its way to Gotham, snow melting into slush and flooding the streets as the days grew longer and the winter chill started to recede. It crept into the past as singing birds and allergies were to come. It was supposed to be a time of happiness, of excitement for warmth before the general population complained about the heat plaguing the city in a few months time. But Jason watched the rain that had cleansed the city for a week already with certain disdain.

His apartment was silent save the rain’s ambiance—it hadn’t been this quiet in ages. Hadn’t been so hollow and empty since you came into his life. A presence to warm the space even when you sat in silence scrolling through your phone. Or when you cooked and hummed to yourself or when you took phone calls in his bedroom and didn’t think he could hear you sing his praises. It should’ve made his heart swell, flattered by your adoration of him, and yet it made Jason anxious. Nausea flowering in his throat at the sounds of your lies on his behalf, covering up the life he lead all while admitting how deeply you felt for him. He had heard that phone call so many times, a quick tangent usually, but it stuck with him nonetheless.

It was those moments—sweet and tender—he turned into something dark, twisted. The way you unabashedly reached for his hand at the grocery store, or called his name in a room full of people felt…wrong. You weren’t supposed to be like this with him, no one was. Jason didn’t deserve such kind words and outward gestures of love, and you didn’t deserve to be trapped with him. Stuck in something that could never really be anything. You were too good for Gotham and for him. He had always known it, tried to ignore it and just dwell in the bliss that came from being with you, but his guilt was stronger. More consuming than the feelings he had for you. It made breaking your heart painful, but a necessity.

He wasn’t yours to love, to have. He had said those words to you, “I’m not for you to love, or to be with. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep playing house anymore. This isn’t my life. You aren’t.”

His voice was cold, empty as he spoke. You couldn’t hide the hurt in your eyes, tears threatening to spill. “Then go.” It was all you were able to muster, standing in your apartment as he let himself out without another word.

He wanted to add it was because he loved you, but it felt cruel. He had to remind himself he wasn’t yours to love. Jason wasn’t for anyone.

And he believed his words, for weeks on end he told himself over and over again that he made the right decision. Threw himself into work and tried to burn you from his memory with violence and power. Jason ignored what headlines you might see—what you might think of him. He had never let himself care before, you told him what he did with that life was not for you to be apart of if he choose to keep you separate. You said it casually, with a shrug like Jason was supposed to know. Know that respect and privacy he could never ask from someone was being offered freely.

Jason supposed you’d keep your word, keep your distance from the bloody and chaotic side of his life despite him leaving you. You were good like that, honest and uncompromising when you needed to be. It made him smile despite the torrential downpour, knowing there was something good still in Gotham. Something—someone worth fighting for.

Yet, as something akin to peace washed over Jason, fate played its hand and it sent him reeling. A notification lit up his phone sitting on the kitchen table. It drew his attention away from the window he had been staring out of for a while, compelling him across the room and to read the two words that broke his heart.

I’m moving. A message you sent a minute ago, two words hanging in the ether that left Jason short of breath. He had already lost you, but this was like sand slipping through his fingers all while a tsunami rushed the shore. It made his stomach knot and guilt trickled into his chest like a steady stream. You couldn’t leave the city you had made a life in because of him. Because of the pain he caused you—no that grief, that guilt, would swallow him whole. Devour him till he was nothing, but bone to burn to ash one day.

Jason was out of his apartment in record time, not dawned in his suit, but enough tactical wear to hop across rainy rooftops safely. He ignored the chill of the rain that drenched him in mere minutes, he slicked his wet hair back and regretted his leather jacket as he landed an apartment over from yours. He huffed out a few breaths, calves flexing and whining from the amount of work he just put them through to get here. Jason steadied his breathing as best he could, grappling over the alleyway and to his surprise, landing right behind you. You were next to a small pigeon coop someone kept on the roof, the stretching piece of plywood was a makeshift roof you just fit under. You had a blanket wrapped around your shoulders, the bottom corner wet with rain water likely from the puddles on the roof.

He let out a sigh that caught your attention. You glanced over your shoulder before your face fell. Your phone was still in your hands and Jason wondered if you texted him because you were up here. Staring out into the city and thinking of him as he was you. “You’re moving.” He found himself saying, more accusatory than he intended, but he couldn’t help himself. Not when desperation wafted off of him in waves.

“Yeah, I just…can’t with this city anymore.” You turned fully, you had never looked so small before. So withered and tired. You look like you had been crying recently and Jason’s resolved weakened. He assured himself that cutting you out of his life was right, to save you pain in the long run, but the pain you wore so clearly now was a gut punch. It was wrenching and Jason didn’t know what to say to fix anything.

“When?” He asked instead.

“Not sure, Im gonna stay with a friend in another city for a bit before I figure everything out. Think I have someone to take over my lease so…” The idea of someone else living here made his head spin. This space was an extension of you—he could see your interest in what you hung up on your walls, your love in the plants littered around the space, your happiness in the smell of food mixing with the candles you burned and even your old grumpy cat belonged to this space as much as you did. It was one of the only places in Gotham Jason could…breathe. Think or not think and he was losing that and you—

“No.” He gritted through his teeth.

“No?” That wasn’t meant for your ears, he was trying to silence his own thoughts. He cursed to himself and turned away from you, rain soaking his face as his only then remembered it was pouring. “Maybe I shouldn’t have sent you that text…I think I knew you’d show up here—I’m sorr—“

“No.” This time it was for you, even if he still refused to face you, let you see the regret plain on his face. “I don’t want you to leave Gotham like this…not because of me.”

“I know, and I wish I could stay, but Jay its too hard. Being here and trying to move on is killing me.” You were calm, calmer than he anticipated. He wanted anger, he wanted you to throw his words in your face, scold him for showing up when he was the one that forced you away. And yet, you tried to apologize and were being honest with him.

“I wouldn’t ask you to stay, but I’m sorry for how I ended things. You don’t—didn’t—deserve any of this.” Jason was never one to admit his wrongs, but this was the end of something that meant everything to him once. He couldn’t let you go with resentment between you two. You let a beat of silence pass, eyes fallen to the ground between your bodies as you processed his words. Your brows pulled together and you took a step closer to him. You weren’t out in the rain yet, but stood close enough to the edge to make sure your words hit him clearly.

“What did you mean by that? Didn’t deserve…what? What we had before? Didn’t deserve a good relationship? Didn’t deserve to be happy? I know I don’t deserve how you’ve treated me since, like I never existed, but what didn’t I deserve before? You?” Your tone was jaded, it wasn’t angry, but hurt. It made the knot in his stomach twist, his heart wrenching at the thought of you undeserving of good things. It was all you deserved, it was all he wanted for you.

Jason whipped around as he spoke, breathless before the words even left his mouth, “You didn’t deserve to be in a barely real relationship. I can’t be the person you deserve to be with, I can’t offer that much of myself to you.”

Another beat, you hovered by the edge of the makeshift roof, before letting you blanket slip off your shoulders behind you. You stepped into the rain and took him in properly, soaked from head to toe, but Jason was still bathed beautifully in the moon and streetlights that barely touched buildings this high.

“I knew all of that, I knew it wouldn’t always be normal, but I accepted it Jay. I chose to look past the parts of your life you didn’t want to share, because I didn’t care. I still don’t. What we had was a real relationship Jason, to me at least, and I didn’t even think anything was wrong when you broke up with me. I thought it was actually great, for what we were working with.” You laughed at the end, watery, but your voice stayed strong. You meant what you said, Jason blindsided you more when he left you than with his Red Hood confession. His admittance to the double life he lead was a blow, but one you could digest. Jason leaving you? It was a grenade set off from within your ribcage that left no survivors. It was pain beyond grappling with the violence that surrounded the man you loved.

“But that isn’t fair to you. I can’t give you everything, but I know I’ll take everything you can give. You get half a person and—“

“I make that choice, not you. I’ll take half a person if its you. I’ve always known I’ll love you more, be able to give you more because I’m sharing you with a city hellbent on destroying itself. When you’re the only person I want to share anything with, of course you can have it all.” He was silent, staring into the dark skies and wondering what he did to deserve you. Had he suffered enough that it was finally time to enjoy the peace?

You put your hand on his arm, urging him to look. He let his eyes meet yours reluctantly as you sniffled. “I don’t need what you think is real Jason. I just need you.” Your voice was a soft plea, fingers tightening around his leather jacket. He stared down at you, so much ache in his chest for ever thinking life made more sense without you there. He wanted to apologize, again and again until his voice went hoarse. He wanted to fall into your arms and sleep for days after weeks of restless nights. He wanted to cook your favourite meals you always said never tasted as good when you did it. He wanted to forgive and be forgiven for all the hurt swirling between the two of you.

But all he could manage was a plea of his own, almost drowned out by the spring rain that washed away the cold weeks you both spent unbearably lonely, “Don’t leave Gotham.”

You nodded, “Don’t give me a reason too.”

The knot churning inside his stomach disappeared with your soft words, making him breathe out a laugh. It was surprised, relieved and everything you needed to hear. A smile broke over your face and the tears brimming in your eyes finally spilled over as you closed the distance between you two. Your hands rested on the lapels of his jacket. He let his cradle your jaw as the rain engulfed you both, foreheads pressing together as the moment overtook you two. It felt like a dream, like everything Jason wanted was suddenly in the palm of his hands and he couldn’t believe it. Believe he had let you go and somehow managed to get you back. He couldn’t decide what you deserved, but god he’d try be the person you needed him to be.

He wanted to say that, promise you he’ll try, but words failed him at times like this. Jason was all need, desperate for you to understand how much he loved you. All he could do was act, fingers tightening and tilting your head up before his mouth crashed into yours. It was hungry and pleading, begging and convincing you to stay with him forever. To know his love forever. You kissed him back with as much urgency as you could muster, just as desperate for his touch as he was yours. It was deprave how you both nearly crumbled when his teeth tasted your bottom lip. You hands had slid under his jacket, pulling you flush against him as your fingers fisted the dry fabric against his spine. He shuddered into you, pulling away with a heaving chest. You rested your chin on his sternum, blinking up at him with happy tears still overflowing. He brought this thumbs to the corners of your eyes, brushing them away before kissing you again.

His lips met yours slower this time, mending the harshness from his last kiss. It was just as needy, lips finding the corners of your mouth, cheeks and jaw before he found his way back to your mouth. Jason’s tongue swiped over your lips, one of his hands moved to cradle the curve of your skull, letting your head fall back as he left open mouthed kissed against yours. Your tongue slid over his and you wished you were in bed. Sat comfortably atop him and making out on some boring Tuesday afternoon. It was always those moments, those days when everyone else was consumed with jobs and school and life, where you and Jason flourished.

Or embracing on a rooftop, in the pouring rain, during the dead of night, while everyone slept.

It was moments where you fell into the corners of life, missed by the bustle of the city and enraptured by each other. It was all you ever needed from Jason, and he was ready to give.

—

Gonna stay humbled to this rock

Silently when I know that I belong

Tell me stay on the right track

You know I got faith and beliefs

In my life and just

I guess I wanted that much

Yesterday I fell out of grace

I made you feel bad again

I wanted all your reasons explained

Guess I wanted too much

Ghost of Love - Marie Fisker

[bhaalsdeepbat]

having a smoke while i take a brief break from my furious writing so here are some disability in BG3 thoughts.

karlach, shadowheart, gale, and astarion all have acquired disability shit going on and they aren't perfect allegories but it's there nonetheless. i'm just going over the physical ones tho

karlach has a literal heart condition that is acquired (through the selling of her labor, directly leading to her body being permanently disabled, but that's another thread entirely i just wanted to mention it). her heart is all hardware that is burning her from the inside out. It's terminal without returning to Avernus bc it's environmentally reactive (reminds me of heat/cold intolerance). her choice in the end, karlach either decides she doesn't want to continue living with the condition or she fights a little longer and it's just long enough for them to find a technological advancement that can improve her quality of life.

Shadowheart's Sharran wound causes chronic pain and whether or not she has life-long chronic pain to suffer through is like. a core part of her character arc. It's something she just kinda has to live with because she has no other option. her's being tied into either living with it and having her parents or living with the loss of knowing she killed her parents, but being free of the chronic pain? i fucking cried. because that was a choice i could not believe she had to make and like. i have chronic pain and just. that scene was *chef's kiss* hit me in a way i wasn't fucking expecting.

Gale and the orb. So, Gale's arcane hunger at the start of the game is something that causes him physical discomfort, then pain, until he can feel himself getting ready to literally explode, unless he has a magical item he can allow the Karsite Weave to consume the magic from. If you don't feed him your magic shoes, you can see him standing there in agony, and he's very hangry when you talk to him. the whole thing gave "chronic pain and needing something to take the edge off it" vibes. And he'll call your ass out if you ask him if he's addicted to magical items.

Vampirism is already considered a disease, but the specific thing i was thinking about was the hunger. It's something that's painful, both for body and mind. Plus the sensory overwhelm of heightened senses, especially if the vampire has been starved and their predatory senses are turned up 100000% to try and get them to hunt. But Astarion just could not. This was the thought that sparked me to be like "yeah this is my disabled crew"

and like in a world with magic, it makes sense for acquired disabilities to generally be of magical origin (unless you can't afford a healer). i also have thoughts about drow eugenics. just. ig i am now thinking about other world building things now lol

[youhavelessproof]

Intro + Blog Info + Fics

redoing my intro because I can and also I'm learning how to do this better.

Intro 🌙

hi I'm Moon. I'm 19 and use he/they pronouns.

idk how to classify my sexuality anymore because I got loud bitches in my brain with varying sexualities but I am polyamorous. (yes I am part of a system. we think it's OSDD1-b but not looking for an official diagnosis.)

diagnosed autistic and ADHD haver. 👍

Blog Info 🦇

General:

this blog is gonna have a mix of NSFW and SFW content so please be an adult if you're actively interacting with me.

this is a Batcest/Proship blog. (mainly Jaydick but definitely not only focused on said ship.) just block if you don't like that. for basically any posts about ships I will only tag the ship tags so it's pretty hard to find me if you don't want to see that. that being said, just block and move on if you don't like batcest or proshippers in general. I'm not gonna feed into fights. we can co-exist on the internet without agreeing about fiction.

this is a side blog for me so I can't follow anyone as YouHaveLessProof. that being said, I promise I consider myself mentally mutuals with y'all. 🥺 I promise I'm not just deciding not to follow the people I interact with/interact with me! I really didn't expect this blog to do as well as it has so I really didn't consider making a new Tumblr account and it's too late now. so I hope that explains any weird behavior.

Ask Box:

the ask box is very open! I'm a yapper and I love yapping with other people! <3 feel free to dump whatever you want in there! stuff about Jaydick, Batcest in general, bottom Dick or Dick in general, really anything! I really don't mind how many asks any one person sends. gives me more opportunities to yap. anon is on!

Fics 📖

Nurture or Nature (Jaydick fic with past Brudick exploring Dick's mom/mommy tendencies. full of trauma and angst, but a hopeful ending.)

Puppy Dick (Series) (Jaydick pup play series with lots of feels and eventually smut.)

He Squirms So Pretty (a Brudick fic where Bruce watches Dick get sexually harassed five times and gets off on it + one time he acts on his urges.)

Pregnancy Glow (Omega Dick Week Day 1 where 12-year-old Dick ends up pregnant from an adult Ollie. he's happy with having a pup and is frustrated at how other people pity him.)

Boy Meets Machine (ODW Day 2 set in the Justice Buster universe where Dick gets a heat at 10 because of a drug withdrawal. the Robin AI helps with the mech suit he's controlling.)

Too Pretty (ODW Day 3 where Bruce has been secretly courting a 13-year-old Dick. Dick finds out but before he can run away, Bruce forcefully bonds to him.)

"Let Your Words Release Your Pain, You and I Will Share the Weight" (ODW Day 4 where Dick's instincts are frenzied because he's pregnant. Roy tries to help.)

Friends Definitely Help Friends Through Heats Platonically (ODW Day 5 where Dick was hiding he's an omega until his heat starts on a mission with Wally. Wally helps him out.)

Eggless Nest (ODW Day 6 where Pack Omega Dick cannot get pregnant and this disappointment leads to a false pregnancy.)

Bitching the Mind (ODW Day 7 where Bruce tries to stud Dick and it doesn't work, but it does fuck up Dick's mind to where he has Jason "bitch" him.)

"Room Feels Like a Meat Freezer, I Dangle in it Like Cold Cuts - Missed Calls, Answered Phones from People I Just Don't Trust" (A birthday gift for Mido - Slade shows up at Dick's apartment and manipulates him into sex because Dick has so many issues relating to older men)

[silver-tongued-bby]

Devotion - Part I

Pairing: Dark!Loki x Nun!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!! This is a Dark!Loki fic and it explores sexual and dark religious (catholic) themes, including mind control (paralysis), loss of faith, oral sex (m and f receiving), loss of virginity, knife play, blood play, dirty talk, a dom/sub relationship, and general blasphemy. Read at your own risk!!

Words: 3,668

Summary: You chose to devout yourself to God. But did you choose the right one?

A/N: If there is a hell, I think I'll be going straight to it for this one. Please remember this is a work of fiction- if you take issue with the themes mentioned above, please do not interact.

...

It was late when you finished your prayers- much later than usual. You’d stayed by the chancel, kneeling on the soft velvet of the hassock well beyond the sunset, your Sisters excusing themselves one by one. The votive candles were mostly out by the time you stood on shaky legs, the feeling slowly coming back to them as you extinguished the remaining flames.

You sighed, hoping that the twelve hours of prayer today would be enough to rid yourself of the dream. Walking behind the altar, you turned off the lights. Things were still somewhat illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight coming through the stained glass.

Moving back around the altar towards the nave you stopped, seeing the outline of a figure before you, your heartbeat in your ears as you held a palm to your chest. You tilted your head, blinking furiously in the darkness, attempting to make sense of the form. It looked like a person- a man, standing by the open doors. Must be a trick of the light, you thought as you squinted in an attempt to make out the tall shadow.

Sighing, you gingerly stepped down the altar’s carpeted stairs to slowly approach the form, keeping your eyes on it. Suddenly, you stopped, the hairs standing on end at the back of your neck. This was how the dream started. A figure- a dark figure is what you’d see before it would float towards you, wrapping you up in its darkness and consuming you whole. You’d wake gasping for air, your eyes wet with tears.

You took a deep breath, chastising yourself for your foolishness. You were awake, and the dark mass in front of you was likely a shadow from outside, or the coat rack, or the monstrance- Sister Anne always left the monstrance out after she buffed it.

Shaking your head, you stepped down onto the cold stone floor. Then you thought you saw the figure move. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears as you stopped once more, trying to make out the shapes in the shadow. You attempted to calm yourself down- you were awake, this wasn’t a dream. Besides, in the dream you always heard that laugh- the dark, velvety laugh ringing out in the silence. There was no laugh now.

You pinched yourself for good measure, nodding when you felt the pain, ensuring that this was not a dream. Huffing, you decided to speed-walk down the nave, your steps ringing out as you approached the shadow.

You were about four paces away when you finally saw the glint of two eyes in the moonlight. You gasped and scrambled backwards, the figure before you now clear.

“At last.” A voice- the voice from your dream. It was deep, dark velvet ringing out through the silence. A sliver of moonlight was hitting two green eyes, illuminating pale skin and a dark brow. You could see the inky, black hair that fell around his face in waves.

You were stunned, and wanted so desperately to turn and run but you couldn’t bring your body to move. You opened your mouth to scream but no sound came out, just like the dream. You began reciting The Apostles Creed in your mind, attempting to calm yourself and awake from whatever this was.

The familiar deep chuckle hit your ears. “Your prayer falls on deaf ears, little one. As they always have.” He stepped closer, then slowly circled your paralysed form.

Undeterred, you kept praying, shouting each word within your mind at the presence before you.

A hand came to grip your face firmly, long fingers digging into your delicate skin. “No more of that, little one.” With that, your thoughts were silenced. Held in place like the rest of you.

Your breath was loud against the silence, shaky puffs coming in and out as the entity observed you. You were struck by the beauty of this presence, his chiseled face more breathtaking than the paintings of Christ. He stood tall, before you, lithe figure covered in a crisp black suit.

“Your god has long since abandoned you. All of you, worshipping an entity who simply flicked the switch to humanity, who left once the beginnings had been set in motion.” He let his hand fall from your face and circled you once more.

“Yet you continue to pray, to worship, to adore him. And this Jesus Christ you vow yourself to,” he laughed pitifully, “a mortal. Long gone.”

“So much work, so much devotion, to an absent god. A god who cannot solve your problems, empower you, or answer your prayers.” He stopped in front of you and reached to pull at the veil covering your head, letting it drop to the floor. Tears were welling up in your eyes, obscuring your vision.

“Beautiful,” he breathed against your ear, “what god would ask for such beauty to be hidden away, like a dirty, little secret? What god would tell their most devout followers to vow themselves to never be touched,” he lightly traced your cheekbone with his knuckle, “be pleasured by another?”

His eyes searched yours for a moment, and you felt the hold on you release. “You may answer,” he watched you as you blinked and shivered, a tear falling down either of your heated cheeks.

“You can’t know that- that He isn’t with us,” you frowned at him, your voice small.

He gave you a pitying look, his head tilting slightly. “Oh but I do, little one. And so do you.” He clasped his hands behind his back, regarding you darkly. “You prayed to your god for twelve hours this day, ten hours each day before. I heard you. I watched you.”

Your eyes widened. How could he have known? How long has he been watching you?

“A long time, little one. I heard you praying to your god to take away the dream I sent you. The dream foretelling you of my arrival.” He circled you again, leaning in to speak close- so close to your ear. You shivered. He could read your thoughts.

His mouth quirked upwards in acknowledgement before he continued. “If your god is with you, why did he not answer your prayers and protect you from me?”

“I- He must be testing me,” you said, the tears still falling.

“If your god is here with us, why is he not striking me down for standing on his ground? Speaking such blasphemy, in his own house?”

“I- I don’t know,” you said, a quiet sob shaking you. You felt alone, scared, and lost. If He was not with you, how could you carry on devoting yourself to Him? Was any of this His will? Or were all the rituals, the sacraments, fabricated by man?

You’d been having doubts for a while- since the dreams started. Instead of opening up to your sisters about it you held your tongue. Saying it out loud would have made it all so real. As it is now.

“Hush now, little one. Tears won’t do a thing.” He touched under your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes.

You felt defeated and betrayed by the cause you’d so devoted yourself to. Pointless. What were you to do now? Without your faith you had nothing, no one.

“You started down the wrong path.” His eyes were locked with yours, a glint of something beneath the blue-green. “I can help you correct it. Worship me, and I’ll hear your prayers. Devote yourself to me, and I’ll answer them. Adore me,” he brushed his finger tips across your lips, “and I’ll empower you.”

You felt a thrill with his words, his actions, and his darkening stare. “What must I do?” You asked, your heart racing.

“Get on your knees.”

You knelt in front of him, bowing your head to his towering form, your hands clasped together in your lap.

“Eyes on me. Always.” He said, and you brought your face up to meet his stare. Before you were fully aware of what was happening he’d taken himself out, his hardened member before you.

Your eyes widened at it- you’d never seen a phallus up close in person. The vow you took promised yourself to your lord. You weren’t even supposed to touch a man, and had stuck to that for the majority of your life. You were nervous, unsure of what to do, how to please this dark entity before you. You also realised you’d never even asked him his name.

He chuckled darkly. “I am known to many as Loki, but you may call me Master. Now, bring yourself closer to me.” You leant forward. “Good. Open your mouth, little one.”

You did as you were told and he laid his thick member over your tongue, the taste of his skin salty, his heady scent enveloping you.

“Use your lips and tongue to worship me. Show me your devotion,” he angled his hips forward so more of his length filled your mouth.

You kept your eyes on his as you started to run your tongue along him, pursing your lips slightly. You took him deeper until he hit the back of your throat, which made you gag, tears springing to your eyes.

“Relax, little one. Breathe through your nose,” you did as you were told, consciously relaxing the muscle at the back of your throat. You found you could take him further, more of him pressing into you as your saliva dribbled around your lips.

“Good,” his voice sounded deeper, a small edge to it. He grasped your head, his nails lightly scraping against your scalp, bringing a little hum from you at the sensation. He twitched at that, and you took note, humming and groaning around him as he began to move you back and forth over his length.

His lips were apart as he moved you over him, his eyes running over your features. The lustful approval of his gaze made your heart flutter, and your core ache. You were so pleased to serve him, to have a God you could so tangibly show your devotion to. You wanted him to use you, use your body and soul for his pleasure.

He grunted, teeth clenched as his grip against your scalp became harsher. His hips stuttered and he groaned, his warm essence spilling into your mouth and down your throat. You were filled with pride to receive his seed, eagerly swallowing and revelling in the taste. You cleaned him off, his length remaining hard as he watched you work below him.

“Very good, little one.” He removed his hands from your scalp, gently brushing the hollows of your cheeks as you continued to suck his length. “What do you say after such a gift?” He asked.

You let him fall from your mouth, licking your lips. “Thank you, Master.” You said breathlessly.

He nodded at you in approval then motioned you to stand from the cool stone floors. You stood on shaky legs and he held up one hand, palm upwards. You tentatively put your hand in his and he gripped it lightly as he guided you towards the altar.

Once up the steps, he turned to you and in a flash of green he held a dagger. He hooked the blade into your tunic, tearing the fabric as he brought it downwards. The linen opened to expose the virginal white of your underwear. He pushed the cloth off your shoulders, letting the tunic fall to the ground. He did the same with your underwear, tearing the soft white fabric of your bra and panties to shreds, leaving you naked before the altar. He flipped the knife in his hand, catching it before disappearing it in another flash of green.

“Present yourself to me,” his eyes were busy running over your exposed skin.

“Yes Master,” you said, moving up against the altar before settling upon it and spreading your legs, exposing yourself to the cool air. You laid back, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes. Remembering all the times you’d prayed staring up at this altar made you ache for your new Master, needing him to feel your worship.

“So wet and needy for me,” he brushed a knuckle over your heat, forcing a shudder from you. “Though since it’s your first time, I will ready your body to take me.”

“Thank you Master,” you said again, resting on your elbow so you could maintain his gaze.

He smirked at you and bent a knee to bring his face closer to your heat. Your muscles twitched in anticipation as he lowered his gaze to your wet heat, his hands sliding up from your calves to your thighs, stopping so they could grip your tightly.

“Have you ever been touched here by another, little one? Kissed?” He asked, his breath ghosting over your heat.

You swallowed, shaking your head. “No, Master. N-never.”

“So pure,” his eyes ran over you before capturing your gaze once more. “Have you ever touched yourself here?”

You cast your eyes downwards, “yes, Master.” You whispered, feeling shame bubble within you, your face hot.

His hands tightened around your thighs. “Look at me,” he commanded, and you quickly met his gaze. “Never feel ashamed for taking your pleasure. Worship me through it. Give into your pleasure, give into me.” He licked a slow stripe up your folds, and you cried out, your back arching against the hard wood of the altar.

From the angle of your gaze you could see the crucifix, inverted at your position. Blinking your eyes up at the sculpture of Christ, you felt your Master’s tongue swirl over your bundle of nerves and you moaned, still gazing up at the crucifix, as if you were expecting it to come to life.

You heard a low chuckle. “I told you. He’s long gone, little one.” Your brow furrowed- you still felt your Master’s tongue over your centre, hot and wet. How could you hear him?

“Look at me,” you heard his voice once more and pulled yourself up on your elbows to meet his icy gaze as he dipped a finger within you, causing you to shudder. “Do not question. Surrender,” he curled the finger on a spot that had you seeing stars, “surrender to me.”

You nodded, licking your dry lips as you panted. You were close. His hand was pressing hard into your thigh, while the other was quickly moving in and out of you, his tongue moving in tandem. “Let me feel your euphoria, little one. Let me drink it from your very soul.”

It was all so much, the feel of his fingers within you, the flick of his tongue against your most sensitive part. You were lightly moaning, the sound of your voice and his ministrations echoing off the stone of the church. His eyes were cold steel, demanding your gaze as he steadily stoked the fire within you, the flames licking at your skin.

“Oh! Oh my…” you trailed off, “God.” He finished darkly, and you came undone, writhing against the altar. As you rode out the waves of your high you whispered, “thank you Master,” over and over in prayer, your eyes slipping to those of blue-green below.

“Very good, little one. You’re ready to take me now. To feel me deep within you.” He pulled his fingers from you and stood, eyes roaming over your naked form. He ran one finger, wet with your excitement down from the hollow of your throat to the soft tufts of hair between your legs and you shivered, the cool air kissing the trail he’d left.

Smirking down at you he gripped himself, coming closer to run the head of his length up against your dripping core. You inhaled sharply, your hand gripping the wood of the altar below.

“You were built for worship. Body and soul,” he spoke, his voice rough. He slowly pushed in an inch, your channel tight around him. You squirmed, feeling a sharp pain as he continued to push in.

“Relax. Deep breath, little one.” You did as you were told, filling your lungs with air and he slid the rest of the way in on your exhale. The pain turned sharper still, and you whined, your breaths quick and pained.

“That’s it. Don’t cry,” he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “It will feel better soon. But I need you to feel the pain. I need you to feel me stretch you, to feel me break you.” His eyes went to the skin where your bodies met, where he was stretching you, holding still while you desperately tried to relax your muscles, your nails digging into the wood of the altar.

He brought his hand down, swiping around your folds. Bringing his fingers before you, you could see they were wet with slick and bright red with your blood. He brought his fingers to your lips and swiped them over your tender skin. He bent to kiss you, his tongue running along your lips. He hummed at the taste before kissing you deeply, the metallic-tinged taste lingering in your mouth.

He started to move his hips, pulling back out of you before coming forward. Your back arched, the pain mingling with some deep sort of pleasure as he began setting a pace. He moved to whisper foreign words over the shell of your ear.

You felt a warmth wash over you, the pain slipping away with it, leaving the pleasure. He came away from you, standing back up to his full height as he looked at you, his head tilted. “Does that feel better, little one?”

“Yes, Master,” you moaned, your hips moving in time with his thrusts. His hands gripped either side of your waist, long fingers pressing into the skin as he continued to move with you.

“That’s it little one, worship me as I fuck you. Worship me as I taint you.” He continued to thrust into you, the stained glass windows of the church framing his dark figure. He gave a little flick with his fingers in the air and you felt a pressure on you- similar to finger tips, gently rubbing at your clitoris. You cried out, and he bent forward to clasp his fingers over your wrists, pulling them upwards to hold them firmly on the altar over your head as he continued to thrust within you.

You were writhing against him, the soft, woven material of his suit rubbing up against your sensitive skin, the phantom touch still continuing below. He was grinning at you, the glint in his eyes that of pure sin as he watched you lose control. You came fully undone beneath him, giving in to the pleasure he was wringing from your body, every nerve alit with it. Your vision blurred slightly but you kept your eyes open, his smirk taunting you as you came thanking him at the top of your lungs.

The touch below had continued as you rode out your orgasm, coming back in full force once your breath settled. He moved to grip your wrists with one hand, the other coming to firmly grasp your jaw, pushing your face to the side. You felt his tongue against the shell of your ear and you cried out at the sensation. He chuckled lowly before taking your earlobe between his teeth, marring the flesh then running his tongue over the heated skin. Your breaths were quick puffs, your chest rising against his as he continued to nip, bite and lick at your skin.

“You will cum once more, little one. Cum for your Master and I will reward you,” he nipped at your earlobe once more, “I’ll fill you little one. Would you like that?” His voice was divine, the dark tone of it bending you to his every will.

“Y-yes please, Master, please fill me,” you stuttered, your hips arching towards his thrusts, angling you slightly off the altar.

He chuckled once more, “good. Now, little one,” he licked the skin beneath your earlobe, “cum now.” With that he bit you- you could feel his teeth break the skin of your neck as you moaned, the pain mingling with the pleasure sharply bringing your release. The pleasure electrified you, you couldn’t keep your body still as it fully overtook your every sense, clouding your vision.

As if it were far away you heard your Master moan. His muscles tensed against you, and you felt him twitch within you. As your breath returned he pulled out of you, stepping backwards to admire your form.

He smirked and brought two fingers to your dripping hole, swirling them in the wet there. Removing them, he traced a line down your chest in the slick, forcing a shudder from you.

He connected the vertical line with one horizontal, painting a cross over your breasts. You flinched when his fingers skimmed across your nipples, your body still overstimulated.

“Perfect,” he breathed, his hand moving to close his trousers.

His eyes falling back to you, he held a hand out towards you. You took it and he guided you to stand, the cum dripping down the insides of your thigh.

He snapped his fingers and suddenly you were clothed in a tight fitting tunic, the neckline low and the colour a rich emerald green. A golden pendant hung between your breasts, a small, detailed snake on the end with emeralds for eyes. You could still feel the cold wet slick on your chest and between your legs- he hadn’t given you any underwear. “That will do,” he nodded, “very fitting of a high priestess.”

He swiftly turned on his heel, heading down the steps and down the nave. Your heart beat loud and fast in your ears as you watched him walk away, unsure if he wanted you to follow. Stopping at the final pew he turned, long fingers of one hand beckoning you.

“Come along. You have work to do, little one.”

Part II here.

End Notes: There will be a part 2! Keep your eyes peeled- let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list.

I apologise if I got some aspects of the church wrong- I spent some time researching but I am in no way an expert.

Want to read more Loki fics of mine? My masterlist is here.

And as always, thank you for reading!

[phoenixyfriend]

SW Suddenly-Omegaverse AU: Surrogacy, Worldbuilding, Obi-Mom

Truly the main irony of all this is that everyone considers Obi-Wan the Better Omega but Anakin is the one who's actually 👀👀👀 about pregnancy

Obi-Wan: I have the deepest respect for those who do it, but the idea of growing another person inside of me is weird and gross, no, thank you.

Meanwhile Anakin is like. Immediate baby fever. Someone actually approaches him like "hey... there are forms you can fill out to request an exception for pregnancy, and like... regulations" because he's that obvious about it.

I assume that if they've got safety nets for accidental pregnancies, then they're probably aware that there are people who want to do it on purpose? I feel like in an omegaverse where 'biological imperative to procreate' can be so much more intense, then maybe there's old precedent that stuck around even after suppressants got most of those hormones under better control.

Bit torn. Just know I want Anakin to Make Baby.

"Anakin, what are you--" "Do you think offering to be someone's surrogate would be acceptable to the council as a way to be pregnant without getting attached." "...what." "They'd probably accept that as a way to practice not getting attached, right?" "N...no, that's not... what?"

Anakin approaching Bail and Breha and being like “Do you... still want a kid? I would provide a kid. Do you want one here*?”

* in this dimension

Great way to give up the baby as a parent because he'd still be able to see them once in a while but also like... it's not HIS kid, technically. He can be a cool uncle who happened to give birth, which is distant enough to not be 'attached,' but close enough that his Tatooine-raised 'must ensure family is safe whenever possible' background doesn't flip out. It helps that 'Core World Royalty' is like... a top-tier family to be raised in.

(It would have to be post-war because he probably shouldn’t be risking his life while very pregnant. He needs to be reminded of that sometimes.)

Bail/Breha is an alpha/alpha relationship and while a pregnancy is still possible,* it’s a whole lot more difficult, and that's on top of Breha's canon medical issues that resulted in her heart and lungs getting replaced.

* AFAB alphas can get pregnant, and AMAB omegas can inseminate, but the success rate on that angle is much lower than the 'traditional' alpha/omega roles, as is any attempt at reproduction outside rut/heat. They're low-fertility overall for the non-dominant aspect of their reproductive system, which... ha, Anakin and Obi-Wan try to get explanations for why the senary system works the way it does, but it's a very longform history lesson that comes down to 'idk this got cemented so long ago that nobody really knows why anymore.'

AKA "why do you title these roles male omega and female alpha instead of intersex omega and intersex alpha since both parties have both genitals."

ANYWAY

Anakin: I want to make babies. But I don't want to get kicked out of the order. But I don't want to give up my own babies for adoption. But I can't keep my own babies if I want to stay a Jedi. So basically I want to have someone else's babies? Anakin: ...wait shit that's just surrogacy.

Anakin, calling up Obi-Wan: Hey are the Organas still struggling to have a kid? Obi-Wan: ...not really your business. Anakin: You're friends with Bail again though, right? Obi-Wan: I am, but-- Anakin: Do you think they'd want me to be a surrogate? Obi-Wan: What.

I can't decide if it's funnier for the Order to be like "I mean... technically there's no rules against this?" or if this is a precedent set by at least three omegas every generation because that's just how a/b/o manifested for omegas in a biological and cultural sense.

Bail: Wait, your former apprentice is... volunteering... to be our surrogate. Obi-Wan, exhausted: Yes. Bail: He barely knows us. Obi-Wan: He respects you and you're the closest people he knows that want a child and would be good parents. Bail: And he's just... volunteering? Obi-Wan: Yes. Also, you did say your primary worry was that a surrogate might be targeted for assassination and you couldn't ask someone to risk that, right? Anakin is very much able to avoid assassins, and would be staying primarily in the Temple anyway. Very safe, and not particularly scared of assassins in the first place. Bail: Your words say you approve, but your tone says otherwise. Obi-Wan: Anakin considers me his father. I'm not old enough to be a grandparent. Bail: Ah.

Anakin is a surrogate and enjoys it and everything is fine and then like a year later he's accidentally pregnant with his own and Rex's kid, and nobody knows how to ask if it's actually an accident.

A suggestion from @gelpenss:

OH MAN i.... have to drive home. But I just had a thought about like. I always want to poke at Betas in A/B/O like are they “normal” or different from our standard or.... but ANYWAY assuming they have a pheromonal thing I just think it would be neat if betas had the ability to be the Bucket of Cold Water. Like if caught early enough, and with the caveat it’s not permanent, a beta could arrest a rut or heat in its tracks until a more ideal time. Like. They aren’t birth control. But they are the remind me later button.

Okay done driving I am Returned to bring up why I brought up betas and it’s this: well okay 1. It plays nice with a popular but inaccurate dog breeding urban legend that female dogs will like, delay heat cycles? so that the bitches above them in pack hierarchy have first choice of mate selection. And I think in omegaverse it would be cool if that was a Bio Fact, and also historically enforced by the third designation. 2. It gives me an excuse to have betas have the Most Sensitive sense of smell because it’s their “job” to pick up on things before they go too far to be put on pause. 3. I’m just thinkin ‘bout a beta clone [...] just hovering around Obi-Wan because they found out how much stress his heat cycle causes and they’re like “okay cool I will help make sure it does Not”

I want to like a/b/o verses but betas niggle at me. I want to give them a hat and a Function that woulda helped before modern medicine.

I'm not sure how I feel about betas being able to delay heats, but I do like the idea of them having a more sensitive sense of pheromone smell than most. Most aliens assume it's omegas with the best sense of smell, and betas with the worst, but it's more complicated than that because they all specialize: Alphas are actually less attuned to pheromone smells, but more attuned to things that were useful back when humans were still a hunter-gatherer species. Omegas tend to be heightened towards danger smells like fire or aggression, and pheromones relating to children/care. Betas, as suggested above, are very sensitive to pheromone changes relating to mood and behavior of the community around them.

I like the idea that betas were historically the ones that ended up taking care children, unmated omegas, and so on during people's heats and ruts, because they kept their heads about themselves long enough to do things like cook and clean while someone was reeking of hormones. The checks and balances work out that betas may have lower fertility, but it makes them better able to support the network around them.

It works in with humanity's general collective history of thriving the most when working as a community.

Given that I decided that this is Jangobi, the clones might all subconsciously view Obi-Wan as Mom. Not intentionally, but, you know... Obi-Wan the not-evil stepmother. He doesn't know how he got into this situation, but he sure is here, and he sure as hell doesn't know how to get out.

Obi-Wan "I don't need to get pregnant, I have three million stepchildren" Kenobi

I definitely love "clones all want to make Obi-Wan's heats less stressful" but like in a different way from Whatever The Fuck Anakin's Got Going On.

Obi-Wan using the force to dull the pain in a Shiny's broken leg while the medic works on it and the Shiny just mumbles "Thanks mom" and everyone gets very embarrassed and pretends it didn't happen.

But then it happens again. And again.

Obi-Wan asks for an explanation from Cody and gets a halting response that, since Jango is technically their father, and his scent has been all over Obi-Wan recently... and Obi-Wan puts in a lot of effort to take care of them all.......

Anakin overhears the clones calling Obi-Wan "mom" and just. The most judgmental eyebrow raise.... Mostly in the sense of "You never let me call you dad" "Thought you said you weren't anyone's parent." "Hey, hey, Obi-Wan. What the fuck."

BOBA. BOBA ABSOLUTELY CALLS OBI-WAN MOM WHENEVER POSSIBLE. IT'S DEEPLY FRUSTRATING.

Obi-Wan eventually manages to admit that he's uncomfortable with it at minimum because of the gendering the word has for him, can they at least use the neutral 'buir' instead?

Word spreads like fire, takes like two days max for everyone to switch.

(Anakin demands cuddles as compensation for not getting to call Obi-Wan any true parental term for years.)

[staygolddindjarin]

Grief

Chapter One: History

Din Djarin x Reader x a bunch of other star wars characters

Series Summary: Raised on Mandalore, born into a bloodline of warriors, no one ever expected for the daughter of a Clan leader to go rogue. Leaving the life of security and making the journey to fight in the war against the empire meant many things... giving up the way of the Mandalore, and giving up a solid future. A future that involves an arranged marriage to a foundling from another clan.

Chapter Warnings: Oof this ones kinda angsty right off the bat- ⚠️ attempted suicide?? Kinda?? Age gap (reader is underage, but don't worry it's just for the sake of backstory and also there's no spicy, so...) mentions of death and afterlife, fluff if you like squint really hard

A/n: hello there... I'm sorry to inflict tumblr with this atrocity, but wattpad had to deal with it so tumblr can too. I wrote a different version of this on my wp with an OC name, but I know that not everyone cares for that so this won't include that. Also this series will be such a slow burn... prepare yourself ahead of time because it's going to be agonizing

Words: 6.3k+

SERIES MASTERLIST UNDER CONSTRUCTION

Part 1/?

"Pehea gar mar'eyir ni...."

How did you find me....

He came and sat beside me, the sound of metal scraping agaisnt the ground when he knelt first.

"Gar cuyir te shi solus tion'ad comes olar jii.  Ni kar'taylir gar jate'shya gar mirdir Ni vaabir," He responded.

You are the only one who comes here now. I know you better than you think I do.

I heaved a deep breath before letting it out in an exhausted sigh. Speaking in my native tongue was something I always appreciated, but now sitting here it felt nearly uncomfortable, but there was a reason for that.

"I wanted to be alone," The words from my mouth were no longer in my language, and he shifted beside me, trying to convey his confusion without a word.

"Care to elaborate?" He suggested, his asking tone was harsh... but then so was everything else about him.

I didn't really feel like explaning my feelings at the moment. I didn't want to focus on the very thing he was asking about. Even though he wasn't absolutely sure of what he was asking.

"You wouldn't understand if I told you," I trailed off.

"Try me." His voice wasn't any softer, but the sincerity he rarely showed had seeped into his tone.

"I really don't think it's a good idea. You really won't understand, and for all I know you could make things worse off for me than they already are," I didn't like it when he let his guard down around me. I didn't like getting closer to him, even though I was supposed to.

"I can't force you. Whatever it is, I wouldn't get myself too worked up," He sounded hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to believe it was by my words. He was too strong to be wounded by such trivial things.

He moved in his seat, beginning to stand, and for some reason the thought of being alone like I had originally intended seemed like a horrible idea.

I reached out to grip his arm. I kept my gaze forward, knowing that even if I looked at him I could not see his eyes.

"Stay."

He didn't hesitate. He sat down again, and I no longer felt guilt for the hurt in his voice a moment prior.

We sat for a moment in silence, just looking over the cliffside, into the deep canyons that wove in between settlements and encampments of our tribes and clans.

"I don't want this life," I whispered. I had only half hoped he would be paying enough attention to hear me. My voice was soft enough that he might not have.

"What do you mean?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, regretting the choice to even say what I did. I felt a shiver go down my arms, and I felt the wind come into the old open cavern, making the air around me chill. My arms were exposed, for I didn't expect the cold tonight. I didn't expect to be here this long.

"I'll turn sixteen in four days. I will either take the creed, or deny everything I've ever been taught. I'd leave if I do that," I finally gave a glance in his direction. He looked back at me, or at least the beskar did. I could never tell where his eyes were.

"You want to leave?" That pained tone of his voice had returned. The one I felt guilty for without actually believing I had done anything to cause it.

I did. I wanted to get off this planet. Away from the responsibility of becoming what everyone expected of me.

"I have to. It's the only way I will ever be at peace, but I'm not sure if I truly have the strength to stand in front of my family and deny the creed."

I could run away. I had some friends who were planning to jump a transport and join the rebellion against the empire.

They had offered me to be apart of this, but I had refused, believing that I would follow in my ancestors footsteps and take the creed. My father had already provided the beskar for my helmet to be made. It was already in the armourer's possession. All that was left was for me to come of age.

"Where did you go, just now?" He noticed my lack of attentiveness to my current reality, and brought me back to where I was. On the drafty cliffside, with my legs hanging over the end.

"Nowhere. I was just thinking about the future," I had admitted. Though I felt the need to stay emotionally distant from him, and not let myself develop a closeness, I knew I could trust him with my life, which is why I even revealed these things to him in the first place.

"What do you think your future will look like?" The tone that brought me guilt had again left his voice, but was replaced by something else... was it fear? I could not even think of theorizing that he could ever be scared. He was one of the bravest in his clan. Never had he shown an ounce of fear to anyone or anything. How stupid of me to even wonder.

"Merc and his crew are gonna stow away on a crate transport tomorrow. He has contact with the rebellion. He said that I could go with them if I was up for it," I looked down, almost embarrassed at admitting a plan of escape to someone so loyal to this place. Even though he wasn't born on this planet, and even though he wasn't a blood member of any tribe, the foundling was more of a mandalorian than I could ever be.

"You've agreed?"

"No. Not yet," I shook my head. I didn't feel like my reasons were valid. Having him sit beside me, and ask me these things made me realize that I needed to explain myself further.

"Din, I want to be free. I don't want to spend the rest of my life under a code that is so restricting to me, binding my every decision. Everything I'd do would have to be following after the creed."

He didn't respond, and even though his features were shrouded under the reflective surface of his beskar, I could tell he was thinking of something.

"I'm not yet sixteen, but when I am... I don't want to be locked down under a piece of metal. I don't want to have to be bound to this planet or a clan. I want to go some place far away and be something that is different than what everyone expects of me. I want to fight battles against the empire, I want to make my own rules. I want to be free to marry who I love, and not be betrothed to whoever my father chooses for me," I finished off my speech about freedom, but realized the last sentence too late. I should have chosen a better set of words.

Din's head hung down, looking at the wrist guards he wore. He shook his head back and forth and before I could interject, he began speaking.

"So that's why...." he trailed off. I was honestly too scared to say anything now. Why must I speak so bluntly and hurtfully honest to people? Perhaps it is because I had never gotten close to him that now I had no fear in what I said to his face.

"If the reason you plan to leave your family is because of me, then-"

"No," I said harshly, catching him off guard. I was usually snippy with others, but I had never before shown a tendency to be angry or intense with my speech. "Believe me, this has nothing to do with you."

"You have always shown enthusiasm towards coming of age. It's only now, when we are arranged, that you show any difference," He brought on certainty in his voice that I nearly couldn't deny, but the truth was... it really wasn't about him. "I can converse with your father, the rest of the clan... I will find a way to break it off if it will make you stay."

"Din, I don't want you to do that. If you don't believe me when I tell you that you are not the cause of this, then so be it, but I will not have you ruining your good name in my favor, when it won't even stop me," The heat of the moment provided actual, physical warmth for me in the time I was running my mouth off, but now that I had finished, and begun to calm down, I felt the freezing air on my arms again, wrapping them around myself and drawing my legs closer to generate more body heat.

"Are you cold?" He changed the subject, needing something- anything else to say.

"Its not exactly warm up here," My voice was low and sarcastic, but at hearing my words, Din stood up and stepped behind me. Before I even had a chance to ask him what he was doing, I felt his thick woolen cape being draped around my shoulders.

I smiled softly, not even a real, full smile. More of just a small tug from the side of my lips. My real smile was saved for later.

"Thank you."

He nodded as he sat back down, letting his legs fall over the cliffside.

"So you're gonna leave with them, aren't you?" His head turned to face me, but I couldn't dare try and stare at the beskar while thinking of what I would do. This choice was the beginning of the rest of my life.

"I think so," I didn't think. Thinking was what I had been doing too much of. Now I was certain. This was my choice. I was going to start new, and become something different. I may have been born on mandalore, but I was definitely not a mandalorian.

I had a rush of confidence come through me until I remembered what this meant. It all hit me like a dropship coming out of hyperspace. What was I thinking?

"No," I whispered. Din didn't understand my sudden discouragement, but he would soon.

"Merc and his friends already denied the creed. He's a foundling. They all are," I started to tear up as I realized what would happen to my family. The loss of a child in a clan is bad enough, but my family hadn't done anything to dessrve this. They were caring. They had shown me love. They had given me the best life I could ask for on a planet with such a religion.

"Second thoughts?" He asked genuinely, scooting closer beside me as to maybe get more information from my body language, or even my breathing.

"I can't do this. My family would be ruined. If I ran away, they would be punished for it," I felt tears coming up in my eyes. My clan was good to me. The people were kind, and I found solace there. Even if I had always dreamt about something bigger, I couldn't bear to let ruin come upon my family name. It wasn't fair to let that happen, especially when the only thing in the way was my own selfishness. "I can't leave my family."

I let the tears stream down my face, not even bothering to wipe them away. The contrast of the cold wind on my hot, tear streaked face had helped to calm me down a little.

"If you plan on staying, you understand that I am apart of your future here, don't you?"

"Din, I already told you before... you are not the reason I want to leave," I tried my best to keep myself together, but with my wet cheeks and red, puffy eyes, I didn't see how that could be an option.

What if there was another way to freedom?

I sat, trying to think of some stories that the other clan members would talk about.

"Din?"

He hummed in response, keeping his gaze on me.

"Has anyone in your clan ever mentioned afterlife?" I maybe should have taken a different approach to this. He seemed to be rendered speechless by my topic of conversation, but I had to ask.

"You mean after death?" He asked me and I nodded.

"I've heard some stories."

I thought about how it had been described to me. A paradise, with never-ending happiness, and unlimted freedom. Freedom.

"After you die, you appear in the world as another life. You can do whatever you want and no one has consequences for any of it. It's like a world without chaos. Everything is perfect," I remember every word as it comes out of my mouth. The words that were spoken to me, more like taught to me when I was a bit younger by the elders who had retired from their days of battle.

"It sounds too easy." He said, ripping me out of my fantasy.

"That's the point. You don't have to worry about anything or anyone, because you can do as you please, and everything will still be the same. All you have to do is die...."

"Like being reborn into a different world."

"Exactly."

I hesitated to take my safety blaster from it's holster under my hip, and when I did, I looked at it before pointing it out in the distance and testing the trigger. It shot a blast of lazer energy out into the air, landing somewhere beneath us in the canyon.

I decided that this was not an act to pursue at the moment, for Din was sitting right beside me, and the sight of watching a young girl pull the trigger against her own head might be an unpleasant one. Even for him, though he has seen worse.

I put the blaster back in it's holster and stand up from the rocky ground. Din follows suit, looking down at me with quiet concern. I wouldn't have known it until now, but I wondered if he had come to care for me at all during these last few weeks we had been betrothed.

I'd known him the majority of my life anyways, so I knew he must have felt some sort of attachment to me, but in what form, I hadn't ever cared to ask.

He kept breathing heavily as he looked down at me for a few moments, and it almost sounded like he wanted to ask me something. The question was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

"Here's your cape back," I slid the material off my shoulders, trying to hand it back to him, but he pushed it back towards me.

"You should keep it for now. The sun is nearly down, it will only grow colder."

He reached his gloved hand up to my face, and I could swear I felt the warmth of his hand beneath the coarse leather.

I only nodded, and leaned forward, trying to lean my head into him, but he carefully stopped me, his hands on my shoulders. Instead he rested his helmet against my forhead, and the cold beskar wasn't such a bad feeling as it rested there.

"I won't let you down. I promise." He said, clueless of my plans for later tonight, after the tribes were asleep, and no one would be at the cliffside.

"I know you won't. You're a good man, Din Djarin." I paused, trying to gather better words. "A true Mandalorian if there ever was one."

The moment didn't last any longer because of how frigid the air was becoming. It was warmer back with the tribes, they always had a fire burning.

Without another word, we both left the old artillery cavern and hiked down the side of the canyon to get back to our own clan territory.

Once I was at the edge of mine, I turned around to utter a simple goodbye, and found that he was very close behind me. His hand came up and rested on my shoulder, lightly squeezing it.

Maybe this was the last time we would see each other. Tonight I would envoke my plan to freedom, to rebirth. Perhaps we would meet in another life. Perhaps I would have just enough memory of this life to try and find him in the next one. One where I will have freedom.

Tonight I had gotten closer to the metal clad Mandalorian than I ever had before. I didn't regret it. He listened to what I had to say, and there were few who ever did.

His hand fell from it's place on my shoulder, but I didn't let him walk away yet. I pulled him into an embrace, feeling him tense up for a moment before reciprocating. It took him a few seconds to let out the breath he was holding in, but when he did, he found himself relaxing into the comfort.

"Goodbye, Din," My voice wasn't sad, or overly sensitive in any way. I figured it actually sounded quite optimistic.

"You know I'll see you tomorrow." He said, reminding me of the clan meetings. Once a month the clans would gather and each tribe would go over the agenda for whatever was to happen soon. Battles were normally discussed, but tomorrow, me and a few of the others in the other clans would be talked about. Our ceremonial coming of age where we would take the creed.

"Yeah... right. Don't come looking for me, I don't plan on showing up," I said quietly, careful in anyone was to hear me.

He pulled me back at arms length and looked at me, but his black blast shield hid his features and I could not tell if he thought I was crazy or not.

"How come?" His voice was also quiet, as we noticed some of my clan passing by to get to the fire.

"Don't worry about it. You'll still see me tomorrow," I lied. Or did I? Everyone within the five neighboring tribes would probably see me tomorrow.

He nodded, pulling us all the way apart and stepping back.

"Good."

He didn't look like he was gonna walk away until I had gone into the hub of my clan's small village. I turned around and walked towards the large fire, seeing my mother. Her helmet was unmistakable. The pattern of the strill engraved into the side of the beskar. It was her signet. A worthy kill of her days in battle. I would never have one. I walked towards her when she noticed me.

Her modulated voice let out a small chuckle, before I stepped beside her.

"It is well to see you spending time with Din Djarin. Me and your father were afraid you may not have been fond of him," She kept her gaze on the fire, speaking only loud enough for me to hear her, given that the other mandalorians of our village were also gathering around the fire, conversing with each other the same way we were.

"I am fond of him, why would I not be?" I was unsure of what she meant. Sure, I had been keeping a distance between us since my father had arranged our marriage, but I never had shown that I wasn't fond of him. I was polite, and gave him attention when it was asked of me.

"Whenever I or your father bring up the discussion of your eighteenth birthday, you always seem to act like it's the plague," She was smirking under her helmet, and I could tell. I could always tell what face she made underneath her metal covering.

"Maybe it's the fact that I dread getting married at all. I'm not opposed to Din, though," I convinced her. I wouldn't have to try and do that again after tonight.

"Whatever it is, your father will be pleased to know you and him were in each other's company. Although I will stray from telling him you two were alone... you were alone, weren't you?" She turned her metal covered head, trying to figure out from the look on my face.

"Yes," I answered truthfully, knowing there was no point in lying. No damage could be done at this point, except for maybe towards Din.

"And what were you both doing?" She tilted her head, and I let mine drop. I would tell her the truth, because nothing bad could come from it. Or could it.

"We were just talking... about the future," I answered.

"Your marriage..." She suggested, and I nodded, knowing that it did come up in the conversation.

"Yes."

"I shudder to ask if consummating was apart of this conversation," She looked back at the fire, knowing how red my cheeks would turn and how embarrassed I would be.

"No, nothing like that. I can promise you," I shivered at the thought. Din was a good man, but I didn't necessarily need to be letting thoughts like that intrude my mind.

Everyone else around the fire seemed to be distracted by the glowing flames, and my mother was soon the same, so I suggested my absense.

"I'm going to go in for the night, get some rest. Big meeting tomorrow..." I said before reaching out and squeezing her hand tightly.

She nodded to me, and I took my leave, walking towards our living quarters on the opposite side of camp.

I wasn't looking where I was going, and brushed my shoulder against Merc, who was with Gander and Shyloh.

"Sorry, didn't see you coming," I told him, but he shook his head, optiing ti ask me a question instead.

"Don't worry about it, I was looking for you anyway... Did you think about the offer? We leave at sunrise on the north delivery tarmac," He informed me, but I didn't have an answer. I wasn't staying here, but I wasn't leaving either.

"You'll know if I show up," I gave him a smirk, partially just because I was glad to see someone's actual face tonight, and not just a metal facade.

"We can't wait up for you, just know that."

I nodded, letting them get by. Maybe I could go with them. Live this life freely without starting another one.

No.

My family will not be able to handle that. It's better off if I'm dead. At least they won't go on to believe that I betrayed them, turning my back on all loyalty they had ever taught me. They would nevwr wonder if I ever loved them or planned on keeping their wishes.

I could start fresh. They wouldn't have to worry about me anymore. And I wouldn't have to worry anymore either. Rebirth.

I went straight to bed, clutching the woolen blanket beside me close to my chest.

For some reason I felt a pang of guilt in my chest. Something that made the sting of salty tears swell in my eyes. I knew that what I was doing was best, but yet I started having a hard time justifying something so drastic. They would get on fine without me, wouldn't they? They would go on living by the creed. This is the way. They will find a way to go on without me, like they did before I was born. Din will be arranged with another girl as soon as I'm gone. Everything will be alright.

The wetness that spilled over my eyes and down my face lasted hours, even though my mind kept telling itself that it was at peace.

It was in the dead of night, when I gathered a few of my belongings into a knapsack, throwing it over my shoulder before leaving out the tattered window of my private space.

I ventured to the canyon, with the moons lighting my way. The planet was never truly dark, due to the brightness and the number of shinning moons, all the color silver.

I set my knapsack down on the edge beside me. By the end of this, I would be at the bottom, waiting to be found the next day. I just hoped it wouldn't be anyone I knew. Of course, the number of people who ever came out here was only two. Me, and Din Djarin.

I hoped he wouldn't find me. I hoped it would be someone from another tribe that was flying over, and happened to spot something at the base of the cliffside.

I pulled my flask to my mouth, taking a large drink. A bit spilled onto my chin, and I wiped it off, feeling the breeze on my face. It was much colder now than earlier tonight. I wasn't sure if I should pull the blanket from my belongings and wrap it around myself, or skip the process of making myself comfortable and just get this over with.

I leaned over, looking straight at the ground, hundreds of feet below me. My heart started racing, and I got scared. Why shouldn't I be? I have every right to be absolutely terrified. I closed my eyes, trying to scoot myself over the edge inch by inch, seeing if I would just drop.

I nearly panicked when my bottom hit a crack in the ground and I thought I was going over. My breath hitched in my throat and I instantly pulled myself back.

"This isn't as easy as I thought it would be," I murmered, beginning to feel the emotional side of everything rise to the surface again. It didn't help that with the absolute silence that circled around me, I couldn't have any single thing to distract me.

I stood to my feet, wrapping my arms around myself to ease the goosebumps rising on my skin from the frigid air.

I stood right on the edge, lifting a foot over and leaning forward, but before I could fall, I again caught myself, the adrenaline working overtime in my system and beginning to heat me up.

That wasn't going to work either. If I could, I would put a blaster to my temple and pull the trigger, but then it wouldn't look like an accident.

I paced around back and forth a few times, trying to calm myself down, to stop the whimpering and to make my tears cease. It wasn't working. I just needed to get this over and done with. A new life, with endless possibilities was waiting for me on the other side. Freedom was on the other side.

I wiped my face, even though it didn't stop me from crying, but it helped me to see clearer. I backed up, into the cavern, all the way inside until my back hit the wall of the ex artillery carvern. This was it. A new beginning. Rebirth. New life. Freedom.

I ran as fast as I could toward the edge, my eyes closed. I could feel the wind blowing against me even harder with my speed, and I could tell the edge was drawing near. Every step I took, I felt as though it was my last one.

I finally felt my foot hit the edge, but then I never fell. Instead, I was tackled to the ground. Whoever landed on top of me was heavy enough to hold me down, because half of me was hanging off the edge of the cliff.

I didn't dare even open my eyes. This was a sign. Someone stopped me.

I clinged onto whoever it was, and knew almost instantly who was laid over me when I heard him groan.

I cried even harder, my head buried in his armor clad chest, and my arms around his neck and his torso.

He was holding me tightly, one hand cradled my head into his neck, and the other firmly gripped my waist. He rolled us both over and I swear I felt him shaking.

"What were you thinking?" He stressed, his grip on me tightening as if he was scared to let go. I was scared too. I didn't want him to let go.

"You have to talk to me..."

I heaved a deep breath, deep enough to steady my voice so my whimpering didn't interfere with my words.

"I want out. I need to get out," I cracked in the middle of saying so few words, but they conveyed the message I was trying to get through.

"I can get you out, I promise.... But please don't ever try that again," His voice was full of worry, and as I suspected, he was trembling in fear.

"I'm sorry..." I cried some more, realizing that what I had done was now the biggest mistake I ever made, even if I was saved.

"It's okay. You're okay. I've got you," He spoke to me, my voice quieting down as my sobbing came to a slow halt.

I lifted my face from where I had burrowed it into his neck, looking up at him. I didn't know what his expression was, but something told me it was fearful, and worrysome.

"I have to get out of here," I repeated again. The last day or so it became my mantra, and would leave my lips often, even just to myself. Mostly just to myself.

"You're going to. You're going with Merc... when are they leaving?" He asked, his arms still around me like mine were for him.

"At sunrise. They're gonna jump a delivery ship on the north tarmac," I explained, my voice was now hoarse and thick, due to not only all the crying I had done, but also the cold night air that had entered my lungs.

"Sunrise isn't for a few hours..." he let me know, and I nodded, knowing we shouldn't probably leave yet, for the walk to the north tarmac wasn't very long from here.

"Din, if I leave, my family is going to get the fire for my decision. I can't let that happen," I told him, my voice had become more firm, and I needed to convey the importance of how much this meant to me.

"I give you my word, that as long as I live, nothing will happen to your family," He swore, and I could just feel his eyes staring into mine. So much so that for the first time since he put that helmet on, I knew where his eyes were.

"I trust you. And I know that you'll always keep your word," I nodded, a small smile finally forming on my face.

Since it got fairly quiet, and we were still entangled together,  I scooted off of Din and opted instead to take the seat beside him.

"I should tell you some things before I go. I just don't want to leave anything unresolved," I admitted, and he stayed silent, waiting for me to continue.

"I know this might sound horrible, but I hated the idea of getting too close to you. It was like if I had formed an emotional bond with you, I wouldn't be able to leave anymore. And the last thing on my mind had been to stay. I've wanted freedom for a while now, I was just always too scared to say anything. And when my father told me that you and him had come to an agreement for arranging a marriage.... it's like it all became more real to me. My freedom would be taken in just days. The creed of mandalore is sacred, and it's truly an amazing thing... but it isn't for everyone."

He sat and took everything in. All the words that just spewed from my mouth like I had been holding them in for ages went against everything I had ever learned. Everything that had ever been put into my mind was the opposite of what I wanted.

"You're young. You want more than what the creed can offer you. I think you'll be able to find what you want wherever you're going," He said, I knew there was more, for he didn't even mention anything that I had said about not wanting to be close to him, but when he stayed silent, I knew he was finished, and that I still had more to say.

"Din, I wanted to tell you that if I had to be married, I wouldn't have minded it being you," I admitted. I would leave no stone unturned before I was to just pick up and leave forever... maybe not forever, maybe someday I would return to my family, to Din.

"I can't say I don't feel the same," He seemed to become stiff next to me, but I soon found the reason when he suddenly reached for my hand with his gloved one.

I took it proudly, intertwining our finhers together.

"You know, I was only an eight year old kid when you took the creed. I have so many memories of you yourself, but whenever I recall them... I can't see your face. I've completely forgotten what you look like," I laughed a bit, though it was quite a sad thing actually. I could not remember him in a way that wasn't covered in metal. I remembered that he was a boy once, and that he would play with all the younger children in the clan set next to his. He played with me and the kids I lived next to. He was a lively, energetic boy. Always doing something... sometimes causing mischievous acts. He was so different now. But the change wasn't bad. Since he'd taken the creed he has been the most noble, fearsome, and trustworthy member of his clan. Completely honorable in every sense of the word.

"I don't look like I used to. It wouldn't do you any good to remember anyways," He chuckled under his helmet, and it brought a smile to hear the melodic sound.

"Well, if I'd stayed long enough to marry you I would find out for myself," I leaned my head on his shoulder, feeling comfort by his presence. If I had made the absolute decision to leave this planet earlier, I could have let myself grow a relationship with him. Romantic or not, he was easy to talk to, and I trusted him. He was a friend to me, and I never imagined more, but now his presence was just something that put me at such ease.

"Do you think you'll ever come back?" He pondered, seeing as just the tiniest moonrays shown down into the canyon ahead.

"Someday. I'll comeback and repay you."

"For what?"

"Saving my life," I replied. My attempt to throw my own life away had been pushed away but I had to bring it up. I owed him my life.

"Anyone would have done the same if they had seen," He insisted, and I shook my head.

"How did you even know I was out here?" My curiosity got the better of me, and I asked for an explanation.

"I couldn't sleep, I took a walk through Ronion until I found myself here. I saw you across from the mesa on the south side... I saw you lift your foot over the edge, I knew what you were trying to do," He said, his grip on my hand got tighter almost instantly.

"Thank you. If you hadn't been there, I would be at the bottm of this canyon." I let so much seriousness onto my voice, and it didn't sound like me.

"Don't thank me yet... not until I get you on the tarmac,"

We sat in silence after that, just looking out over the horizon. When the slightest bit of light hit the edge of the planet, we stood to our feet, gathering my knapsack and begining the journey to the north delivery tarmac.

We were there in no time, and before I could even look for them, Merc and his crew were in sight. They were all sitting with their backs against some cargo imports, waiting for the transport to arrive.

"Well, well, well... look at what the shriek hawk dragged in," Shyloh said, gesturing to me and Din.

"Djarin, I didn't expect to see you here," Merc raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"I'm just here to make sure she gets onto the transport safely," He assured them. I looked out of the corner of my eye, and in the brighter horizon I was able to see a cargo ship coming into the landing area.

"Our rides here," I said, and they all jumped up. Since the ships were automatically run, and don't even require droids, it was often very easy to hop aboard and be carried to another destination. Of course, there were only a few who ever wanted to leave.

I myself hadn't ever left Mandalore, neither had I traveled much even on the planet. Only a few trips to visit the the markets with my father. I never even went into the city, for it was told that in the city lived Mandalorians who did not keep the creed. The tribes were convinced that they hadn't actually ever taken the oath, and just wore the armor for the sake of doing it.

The ship's doors opened, pulling me out of my thoughts, and a conveyer belt folded down to let the cargo units be carried out onto the tarmac for later pickup.

"Alright, it's time to head out," Gander said, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and boarding the transport.

The rest followed after him, but I still had one thing left to do. 

Din looked at me, waiting for me to join the others, but I came close to him one last time.

"You promise my family will be taken care of?" I asked, to which he simply answered with a firm nod. However the look on my face gave him reason to believe that his answer wasn't good enough, so he spoke instead.

"I give you my word. If they are not taken care of, I will let you strike me dead where I stand."

That was good enough for me. He truly meant it. He was a man of his word.

I pulled his head toward mine, resting ny forehead against his in a traditional mandalorian kiss. I pulled back when I heard my name being called from the transport.

"Goodbye, Din Djarin," I told him.

He didn't respond, he just let me go, watching intently as I boarded the ship before the doors closed.

The cargo transports were always on schedule, so as soon as the doors closed, it began lifting into the air. I looked out through the transparent view finder on the side, watching him stand as we began moving out of sight.

"You gonna miss him?" Shyloh asked, his brows furrowing as if he were sorry for me.

"Yes, I suppose I will."

I lost sight of Din, and realized we were leaving the atmosphere most likely preparing for a jump to hyperspace.

"But I'll see him again."

.

.

Tags are open ig...

A/n: please don't get too caught up in the age gap y'all it's just for backstory purposes because this story is eventually going to follow canon events.... (also i know that this doesn't really portray Mandalore correctly, but let's pretend it does because i had this idea)

[muffindaddystyles]

Summary: Y/N's feeling icky about her body, but Harry loves her to bits and pieces, through thick and thin, in health and sick — and he always waits for her to come back to him.

TW: Body dysmorphia.

Y/N's healthy.

All she sucks in is having a sane sleeping schedule due to her UNI otherwise she eats natural goodies, cook and bake home because it comforts her more that way and she works out every evening to stay fit.

Sometimes though, she’s lazy and lacks behind which’s proper humane but deep down it effects her and her mental health more than she admits and she isn’t able to start over again – it mostly happens after her periods.

Harry loves her the way she’s.

Even if she’s clumsy, bumbling, procrastinating, overly enthusiastic to mend her life at 3 am, snotty and sloth-y in her periods, confident and positive around people, kind and loving whenever she comes to meet him, whiny and cuddly when she’s sick, jealous and grumpy with his attention not on her —- he loves her in every way possible, to rivers and to sea his love could never stutter for her ever.

He loves how she’s not overly toned, having soft squishy spots which Harry undeniably wants to admire and kiss shamelessly amount of times -- like -- her plummy pretty thighs that Harry likes to nestle his head in-between making her wriggle and squirm under his grasp, her overly cute tummy that Harry dies to pepper sweet adoring kisses and petal his lips round her belly button, everytime they’re cuddled up his bicep’s always looped her around her tummy to feel it rising up and down in calm rhythm, and oh! her tender titties, they’re actually his favourite babies and he loves to fondle them in his big calloused palms brushing his thumb over the sensitive perky nub and basks in the glittery whimpery mewls of hers.

He loves that she’s curvy and gives zero fucks if she’s skinny or not.

He thinks his baby’s perfect.

So perfect he actually feels the bubbling of devotion and affection filling to the brim of his heart’s chambers and leaking out and upon his ribs tickling him.

Y/N's his person and he worships her with his whole heart.

From some days though, she’s feeling devastatingly insecure about all her things Harry’s in love with and she has no-control over it how much she tries.

Harry’s observing that all with optimism (one of his great quality's that like a lion sly about his prey, he keeps an eye on everything but pretends otherwise). He has his intense gaze fixed on her when she’s taking a look of herself in the mirror for rather too long, running her hands down her body and practically shuddering.

He glances from over his laptop and drops everything he's doing watching her go monkies, sweating buckets and over exercising than her usual time.

He brings her closer and infront of him, pressing her to his chest and coiling his forearm around her shoulders whining a, “Baby..!” when they were brushing their teeth and despite of standing beside him and teasing him occasionally like she usually does she stuffs her face into the crest of his back and hides herself there to have minimal contact with her reflection in the mirror.

Her body dysmorphia spiking dangerously high.

“Deprived me of your cuddles. woke me up so early, granny.” She huffs lying through her teeth and how much his embrace was strong enough to keep her in place she still managed to wiggle out taking her previous cosy position, but he could feel her muscles tensing and an awkward silence falling over them.

He didn’t pry much. He wants to give her as much space as she requires to come back to him hale and hearty, as she always does and whatever happens he never forgets to remind her how much he loves her every night.

..

They were watching rom-coms on Netflix back to back with her curled up into his side with a spongy white wool knitted blanket thrown over them and his cheek was smashed atop her head popping in peanuts every now and then when out of certain she spoke pointing at the actress, “You know she got her ribs removed to get that shrinky waist.” Harry frowned at that. His face itching into disbelief and concern under the bouncing glow of telly.

He affixes his gaze down at her trying to read what’s cooking up in that genius brain of her's which isn’t being very rational and genius right now, they immediately turns soft and caring when she blinks up at him purely.

She squeaks, nose crashing against his collarbones when he scooches her up in his lap grabbing onto her knees to make her straddle his torso and he grumbles cutely when she tries not put all of her weight on him and doesn’t melts into him as his sweet lovie would used to do receiving a smack on her bum on his end.

He’s afraid that an evil version of her chomped onto his dear baby alive.

“Nothing else matters if all ye’ organs are packed safely and healthily inside you,” He tells her brushing loose frays of her hair behind her earlobe and rubs his thumb in gentle strokes over her treacly pulsing point, “Was just telling you ...” She mumbles, dotting touches on his knuckles and playing with his bare cold fingers.

It’s true, she was rambling out facts about the movie and cast out of habit because no-way she’d ever go through any surgeries to change herself to become someone she isn’t.

“Swear!” She yawps out in convincing high pitch when Harry squints down at her with his lips scrunched, one eye twitching in doing so.

“Alrighty. I believe you.” He cradles her cheeks in his palms and brings her mighty close to him to peck her cupid bow, then her bottom lip and the corners of her smiling mouth to suckle generous amount of whines from her and then kisses her lovingly – hands streaming down her spine and then resting atop her dip.

He thought she was ready to come back to him, to share her problem with him and Harry really wanted to bug in, to not let her fight her battle alone and take half of her hardships from her fretting self but guess not.

They were about to have sex when panic seeped in Y/N's eyes and her cheeks blazed up in that of embarrassment as she rushed to switch off the lamps that were the only source of light in their room.

“Moppet.” Harry sighed, knowing exactly what’s happening and she isn’t as foxy in covering it up as she’s thinking herself to be.

“Why wouldn’t y'want me t'see gorgeous self of yours?” His tone punctured and hurt, feeling useless for not knowing how to cheer her up and break her worries down. He smoothens his hands behind her to lock his arm around her waist, fingertips making grape sized indents into the flesh of her hip-bone as she streaks the tip of her nose up and down the crook of his neck, murmuring meekly against his salty skin while he hugs her warmly.

“’M just feelin’ shy.” He giggles at her response puckering his lips against her hairline to pet tiny, tiny kisses there as she fists her hands against his taught chest.

“Not somethin’ I haven’t seen before, love bug.” He blows raspberries against the underside of her jaw and their mouths meet into a messy, giggling, teeth clanking kiss when she sinks into pillows allowing him to cocoon her in his heat.

“I love you, Y/N. No matter what.”

.

The last dam breaker for them was this little get together at Sarah and Mitch's baby shower.

She matched her outfit with Harry. Cute lavender coloured little sweater blouse that was familiar to the baggy baby yarn cardigan Harry was wearing, it accentuated her curves and her bosom so prettily -- her midriff peeking from where the buttons weren’t closed and their jeans were painted (they did it themselves one Sunday when it was extra boring and inactive).

Y/N felt uncomfortable in her own clothes. A bitterness spreading inside her for herself and all she wanted was to escape away from her own skin.

She knows she’s loved and welcomed and cherished by her friends and family and the love of her life, most importantly. Then why was she feeling so icky about herself? Why everything's draining her and exhausting her?

Harry obviously could see through the gloomy tenebrous energy overshadowing her as he stood in the corner of the room grabbing the sorbet he poured in two glasses for them.

A sour guzzle of tears choking his throat and his limbs weakening letting the painful heartbreak seep into him when he watches her being fidgety and fiddling with the loops of her jeans, tugging her blouse every passing second and he’s sniffling a hiccup deep in his lungs when she shrinks into herself in dejection staring out of the window without any purpose.

Harry feels awful to startle her when he plops down beside her, coodling her closer to himself and tucks her head beneath his chin subtly and cups his palm under her jaw to make her look in eyes his eyes.

“Hi beautiful,” His tone had a saddening waver in it and his irises mossed bleak when Y/N remains unresponsive, zoning in and out of her own head feeling herself prisoned into her own invasive thoughts.

“You w'na go home darling?” He gives her a wet smile clearing his throat and blinking the stubborn moisture in his eyes away when Y/N nodded without any vivid expression.

All the way back home he denounced himself of not making her feel loved enough, to not to pest her soon about what she’s feeling and letting her slide deeper into the dark hole.

He thinks he’s a piece of shit.

.

Y/N wanted to dig the earth with her own nails and hide into it and never show her face again, she was overly ashamed of herself.

His hand was holding onto hers tightly, never letting it go as he led them through the hallway and his head perked up in confusion when she stopped them abruptly and lunged to wrap herself around him like he’s the last silver of her hope and the reason to live.

“I’m so sorry, so sorry.” There comes the first sob after ages of suffering and bottling it all in, not shocked at all he was expecting it to happen. Gently he picks her up and wraps her legs around him, keeping his support firm under her bum as she cried into his soft white t-shirt.

Carefully he sits them on the edge of the bed and tries to pry her soaky flushed face in his cradle but she refuses to show him, clutching onto his cardigan and whimpering brokenly.

“I just feel so disgusting,” Her sob scratches out of her throat and for a second he thought he heard her wrong, that her feeble crying’s playing some kind of a sick game with his heart.

“Harry do something I don’t want to feel disgusting.” But, when she pleaded helplessly a cold shiver settled in his bone marrow spreading an agonising burn in his stomach.

Gently he stirs her away from his chest to look at her, meeting their foreheads together while his thumb wiped her tears away and smoothed over her wabbly lips in profound tenderness.

“My beloved,” He whispers fondling his nose against hers and her eyes flutters into realm of calms, shaky breath falling over his lips as he brings her trembling fingertips towards them and pecks them feverishly.

“The love of me life, me heart.” He continues, “Shhh. Shh baby ‘s okay to cry but don’t tire y'self.” He hushes her when she whimpers loudly at his coy affirmation.

“I’m here with you, waiting f'you, watching y’goin’ through a stony path so I could be there to hold you whenever you trip –-,” He pets her hair, cupping the back of her neck to plant his lips bitten red from worry to her puffy damp eyelids and Y/N becomes a gooey lax of candle that’s been burning for tiring amount and finally her lover came to blew the agonising flame away putting her to peace as he coos snuggling her in his cordial embrace, “You’ve been so strong to yourself and ‘m so proud of me baby.”

“I’m always here. Never away from you, always right by y'side.” His palms bending around her ribs to smush her as intimately close as possible.

“How d'ya want your huggies babylove?” He simpers down at her darlingly, huffing out in relief seeing her relaxing -- her shoulders sinking from him massaging the knots in them.

“Tight.” She mumbles timidly. The gleam in her glossy eyes returning when Harry hugs her as she wished, squishing her in right places and not suffocating her at all – their breaths in sync chests flushed against eachother.

“I love you cuddly, and care f’you.” He kisses her on lips then goes to hug her right back.

“I love you too, Har. Thank you.” She sniffs in his woodsy scent grazing her touch up and down his back, smooching a soft kiss at his cheek.

[renaisaibaam]

interview

zhongli / female reader smut fic

degrading, dirty talking

idk how to tag lol

vvvv vulgar i am ashamed

"fuck, zhongli—" you moaned pathetically as you felt his cock slide into you in a slow, gentle pace that absolutely drived you insane, your breath shallow yet heavy, with your back pressed against the cold, wooden surface of your shared apartment's dining table. your boyfriend had just come home from a job hunt, and was expecting a call from one of the places he had visited, so to pass some time, he had decided to have his dinner almost immediately upon his arrival, his dinner being you, in the table instead of the bedroom, and with how im using this analogy to describe him just eating you out for his meal, its rather appropriate to have it in the dining room in this context.

his hands were underneath your thighs that were dripping with hot sweat, keeping them hoisted up as his hips moved slowly and steadily, whines leaving your lips from the fucking tease he was being. a scowl crosses his face, and he bends down to sink his teeth on the soft flesh of the underside of your thigh, not caring when you let out a pained yelp. he knew you liked the pain, anyways.

"arent you being a greedy little slut right now? do you want me to ruin you that bad?" he pulls out of your dripping cunt until only the tip of his cock is in, and without any warning, slams it back in until he's ball deep inside you, your back arching when you feel his cock hit the deepest parts of you. your hands move up to claw on his toned, almost rock hard arms, leaving red marks in your wake as tears filled the corner of your eyes from the pleasure of the sudden movement that he kept repeating without giving you time to even catch your own breath.

"didn't i teach you how to fucking wait? just how deprived are you from cock, when you've just had it last night?" he growls into your skin before rutting into your cunt in a rough pace, the unanticipated action making you scream his name in ecstacy. you were already in cloud nine by this point- zhongli filled you up so good; so well to where you wouldnt even think of anything else but him and his cock. he messed you up in the best ways possible, and you knew you could never go back once you had a taste of him.

you could hear the belt around his pants clinking to the pace of his thrusts inside you, and the cold metal slamming against the back of your thigh added to the many sensations you were feeling, considering he didnt even bother taking off his own clothes except for his coat and blazer while he stripped you off of everything, with the exception of his favorite sweater that you had worn, seeing how much of his scent lingered in the cozy, soft fabric of it. he loved seeing you in his clothes, but the hem of the sweater, however, was already up to your neck to expose your chest that had been bouncing to the rhythm of his hips. the cold air made your nipples hard, but you barely cared.

he bends down, cups your right breast with one hand, and swirls his tongue flat around your hardened bud, his other hand keeping your legs up in place. your hands that were adorned with sweater paws reached up to stroke his hair, and he looked up with a smile, moving towards you to lock your lips together in a heated kiss that held an overflowing amount of passion for each other. well, it was like that until a sudden ring of someone's phone interrupted your kiss with zhongli.

he pulls away with a string of saliva connecting you and him, and he grabs the ringing phone from his pocket, checking the number and immediately answering it, not pulling away from you as he spoke.

"hello?" he asks with his usual deep and calming voice, as if he hadn't been fucking you into oblivion just a few seconds ago. he puts the phone on loud speaker, and listens to the caller's voice closely.

"hi! this is from the wangsheng funeral parlor. do you mind if we conduct the interview over the phone so you dont have to come over? we're pretty busy at the moment with the influx of interviews." what a cockblock, you thought. just as you were about to pull away, zhongli stands up straight and grabs your hips with one hand, keeping you in place as he turned off the loud speaker and held the phone to his ear, speaking in the most professional voice that shook your core when it reached your ears.

"sure, i dont mind. lets proceed immediately."

you looked up at him with a face expecting him to release you, as he was slowly pulling away until he was out, but you let out a loud yelp when he suddenly slams back in to stuff you full of his cock, the rhythm of his thrusts still steady and deep despite the talking he was doing over the phone.

you couldnt believe it. zhongli was fucking you in the dining table as he had his motherfucking job interview. what would happen if this shit went wrong? you clawed at his arms to grab his attention and make him stop, but he just stared down at you, and was silent for what felt like eternity, before he gave a hard slap to the side of your exposed thigh, his thrusts only getting faster each time you resisted.

you were trying your best not to let out any sounds, but the way his cock was hitting on the spots that made you feel the best was sending you to euphoria. he made you feel so good almost without effort, and this situation in general just turned you on. what if the person on the phone could hear the sounds you made? what if they could hear just how much sounds your cunt was making from how much it had been dripping for him, and only him?

you could have sworn you had came twice or even more, and yet his interview hasnt ended despite you already meeting your release multiple times. and even when you did, he didnt stop for one bit. he had no plans to, anyways. as he spoke about what might be best for the company as an answer to the question, he leans down to mark the skin around your collarbone with a bite, sucking it as if he were to excrete something sweet if he did it hard enough.

you feel something different yet familiar bubbling up your abdomen, and you knew you were about to reach your orgasm again, and since you couldnt take any more of it, you mouth to zhongli to stop, or at least slow down, desperation in your expression. his bright eyes, which seemed to darken, stared down on you as still fucking spoke with annoyance dripping in his voice as he answers, "i think we can negotiate my salary based on my skills and the value i bring to the company."

this was enough to tell you that the interviewer asked a stupid question, and that he was pissed about it, yet remained cool headed despite it. and to take the frustration out, he places the phone between his ear and shoulder, grabs your legs and hoists you up even higher than what you were usually used to, and plunges his cock even deeper into you to the point where you can see his tip poking out from your stomach, the new and foreign feeling making you clench around his cock to which he lets out a low, and deep grunt at.

with only a look towards you as your single warning, he slams down into your tight cunt, the sudden pleasure coursing through your veins in a rush that leaves you feeling lightheaded. you cover your mouth with your hands and scream through the fabric of his sweater, feeling yourself reach your high and release for who knows how many times you did ever since the damned call, your hands shaking from the immense sensation and pleasure zhongli had brought you tonight.

all that had happened, and yet he didnt even fucking stop.

you were an overstimulated mess, and as a last resort, you whine loudly to try and grab his attention for who knows how many times, wanting this to be over already. you couldnt stand holding back your voice, and you knew itd do more harm if they had heard you. but zhongli wasnt having any of it.

he places you back down on the table with him still inside you, grabs his phone with his left hand to hold it up to his ear, and uses his right hand to wrap it around your throat, squeezing the sides in a way he knows you love so much. you gasp when you feel his huge, rough hand around you, and as if that wasnt enough, his hips slam back into you, driving you into a quiet, drooling mess. your eyes rolled back, and amidst the silence, your body shook violently to try and get him off of you, your hole unable to handle any more of the overstimulation he drove you into.

you feel your mind going blank and hazy from the emotions and feelings you had been experiencing. the fear of being caught, the excitement of trying not to get caught, the pleasure of his cock filling you up to the brim, the overstimulation and high of your recent orgasm, and the lack of oxygen is throwing you into an overwhelmed state, and yet here you were, living for it.

your hips shake, and you squirt into his cock, feeling your own release dripping down your legs as you made a mess on the floor and on zhongli's skin. you feel your legs give in and drop to his sides, looking up at him as he continued speaking as if you werent even there. but even if he was acting that way, his lust filled eyes stared at you hungrily, his tongue swiping his lips in a manner that you'd think was purposely trying to rile you up.

"okay, i understand. i'll come in tomorrow, so please take care of me." and with that, he ends the call, and growls lowly, placing the phone beside you. he lifts up your legs, and leans in until your face is just centimeters away from you, a low growl emitting fron him as he spoke.

"just how much did you cum in under 20 minutes? did you enjoy it knowing we could get caught?" his hips rocks itself into you deeply, and stays in that position, your hips shaking. you could feel him fill you up to where your abdomen felt full of him and only him, and you looked up at him, whining at his words.

"fucking whore. you even made a mess on me. did it feel that good, doll?" he opens his mouth and crashes his lips on to yours, quickly moving down to bite the skin around the side of your throat where his hands once were, leaving marks on both sides. he moves up to whisper on your ear, his voice making you tremble as you felt his hot breath whispering such dirty words that you knew he was going to fulfill. guess you were staying at home tomorrow.

"ill make sure you cum all over my cock more tonight, so be a good girl and take me in well. are we clear?"

[landothemuppet]

Peter or tom taking care of sick overworked stressed and just generally burned out reader please

sick days and an idiot || (t.h)

Word count: 704

pairing: actor!tom holland x publicist!readr

N/A:  okay it's short, but it's the concept of a blurb, am i right? I hope you will like it. I allowed myself to choose the reader's work and include a funny little situation. - lot of love! xx

taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp​ @hogwartsmarvelmommy​ - if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here

Fall was your favorite season, but it was also the time when you fell ill the fastest. The reason was simple: you were still stubbornly wearing summer clothes when the weather got cooler. And it only took a few days from the start of October for you to catch a cold. You had a sore throat, you had chills and sweats. No doubt you had a little fever, but the reckless one you were hadn't wanted to check. To top it off, the work was not easy. You had had several meetings during the day for several different clients. You have also been negotiating partnership contracts with several brands. But at the end of the afternoon, you felt exhausted, sore, livid. Your boyfriend came home from a late round of golf and you shivered as the wind blew through the front door.

"Darling, I'm home"

You didn't answer, unsure of the sound of your too hoarse voice. Your fragile health has betrayed you since you have coughed a few times. Tom just had to follow your coughing fit. You were wrapped in a fluffy plaid, cozy socks, your nose was red and your eyes were shining.

"Oh, my poor baby" he pained you.

Your boyfriend approached you to kiss your temple, not without protesting that you were sick. He couldn't get sick too, he had a press tour coming up soon.

"Stay away from me, you can’t be sick"

Tom shook his head before heading to the kitchen. He took out your favorite mug and his from the cupboard, setting them on the counter while he filled the electric kettle and took out the tea. You watched him do it with a feeling of fullness. This man was far too perfect. The brunette then leaned into the bottom cabinet to grab the heating pad you usually use during your painful period. He placed it in the microwave with a cup of water, to heat the object safely.

"How was your day, love?" Tom asked.

"Horrible. One of the brands that sponsors my client has a photoshoot scheduled without notifying us first."

"It sucks ..."

"And you'll never guess but ... I also got a call for a social media affair. One of my clients ... I wouldn't say who" you insisted your gaze on Tom, eyes piercing. "…posted on his Instagram story" you paused, giving him time to realize your words. “a picture of him in the designer room of his next BIG movie, where you can clearly see in the background ... 3 different iconic costumes of his character. "

Tom's eyes widened before swallowing hard and judging by tapping his phone. He got confused in excuse.

"We're having a press conference tomorrow. I don't have the strength to write your speech, but I'll do my best to get you out of your mess."

Tom gave you puppy eyes while still apologizing for it. He hastened to take the heating patch out of the microwave. He placed it against your stomach, kissing you on the cheek, then rushed to the counter to steep the tea in your cups and bring them to the coffee table. He settled into the couch, making you wince at having to move but you couldn't blame him since for the next few seconds you were snuggled against him in a heartwarming embrace. He stroked your head and kissed the top of your head.

"You're lucky that I love you, idiot"

"I love you too, darling."

You closed your eyes to appreciate the affection Tom was giving you. You were pretty sure he would be sick tomorrow, you were pretty sure you were going to have to spend the night writing an editorial line to save your silly boyfriend's ass. But for now, you were in the soft warmth of his arms and he was enough for you.

"How about ordering your favorite food and watching a fall movie before you have to go back to work?"

"Sounds good to me."

Tom pecked at your lips and you melted under his kisses. No, dating Tom Holland was no easy task but you were way too much in love with this man ... and he was an absolutely perfect boyfriend.

[cclightroast]

My Warrior PT.2

Word Count: 1,597

~~~

Hoi! There will be a third part to this soon! But I believe that will be the last part before I begin writing other prompts!

A deep inhale roused you from your slumber; a cold hand snaked up your back before stopping at the base of your scalp. Calloused fingers threaded through your hair, carding as gently as they could without pulling at the knots.

“Mm,” you groaned, pressing your face further into the crook of your warrior’s neck, refusing to open your eyes. His chest vibrated with a deep chuckle, causing a sleepy smile to pull at your lips.

“We must get up, flower. We have a long day ahead of us.”

His hand moved from your hair down to your waist and only then did you finally stir. You sat up and held your hands out for Kotallo to take, placing your weight on your heels to stand yourself and him up.

“Should we go to Gaia first?” You questioned; walked over to your belongings and began to carefully place your armor on over your under clothes. Kotallo hummed, his gaze following your movement from where he stood.

“Are you not hungry?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. You held your chest piece against your body and glanced over your shoulder to your Tenakth warrior, and him already knowing the routine, made his way behind you.

“I am, but we can eat after we speak to Gaia,” you started, shuddering when you felt Kotallo move your hair over your shoulder so that he had better access to tie the armor in place. “Besides, I think it’s more important.”

You heard him grunt and imagined what he looked like at that moment, pulling your armor taut with one leather strap in his mouth, the other gripped in his hand. He backed away after a few more minutes fiddling with the straps and circled back around you.

“We go to Gaia first, then.” With a smile, you nodded and turned towards the blue-lit door to your room. As soon as the two of you left the room, the voices of your companions filled the air. They were surrounded around a table in the main room, talking while they helped each other to the food laid out across the table top.

“Come eat! We’ve got plenty of vegetables and Erend insisted on some meat.” Zo rolled her eyes, while Erend smirked, pointing his fork in her general direction.

“I’ve said it once before, you cannot live off of just vegetables!” This fueled a heated debate between the Oseram and Utaru with Varl trying to break it up amicably. You and Kotallo had just looked at each other before you had spoken up. “We’ve got to talk to Gaia, but we will eat afterwards.”

“Oh? Something the matter?” Zo asked, tilting her head to the side. “It’s a personal matter.” Kotallo said as politely as his standoffish demeanor would allow.

With that, the duo turned and headed up the stairs to where they knew Gaia was waiting patiently for them to arrive. The door made a noise as it opened and there stood Gaia in all her artificial glory.

“Welcome,” she spoke softly, watching as the duo walked closer to her. “Kotallo,” she focused on him, “You would like to build a prosthetic arm?”

Said man looked questionably at the strange word but nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Very well.”

At the blink of your eyes, data flashed across your faces, multiple pictures of these prosthetic arms and the materials used to create them were spread out across the air. “The Far Zeniths have made a more advanced type of prosthetics. I believe that the data needed to make it is held where Aloy and Varl found Beta.”

“How does this… prosthetic work?” Kotallo’s voice had some apprehension behind it. A large photo of a beautifully crafted arm moved into view and you glanced over to Kotallo, wanting to see his reaction. “Wires are threaded through the skin and attached to the nerve endings to hold it’s place and function as a normal limb.”

You cringed at the thought of how painful that would be, while Kotallo didn’t even remotely look phased by it. Which didn’t surprise you like it should’ve. He’s a warrior through and through, he’s used to pain.

“And this Zenith lab will have what we need?” his voice echoed softly against the chamber walls as they waited for a response.

“Indeed.”

You squeezed his hand before addressing Gaia. “So, once we get that data, what do we need then? What machine parts do we need?”

Gaia smiled at your enthusiasm, looking between the two of you. “No machine parts are necessary. The Zeniths have highly advanced components that we will use. Get the data and those components and I will guide you in creating it.”

“Thank you, Gaia,” you spoke honestly. You knew how much this means to Kotallo and you were determined to make sure it happened. “I’m very appreciative.” Kotallo followed after, and though his words sounded monotonous, you could see the emotions in his eyes giving him away.

“Once you gather the materials, head to the work bench on the floor below. I will guide you there.”

The couple nodded, thanking her once more before leaving Gaia’s chambers. You walked quietly back to the main room where everyone was still sitting and eating, and upon seeing the couple, Erend moved down one seat closer to Aloy so that you and Kotallo could sit side-by-side.

“So, how’d it go?” Erend asked, tearing into a thick piece of cooked pork. Zo handed the two of you a plate, which you thanked her for as you let Erend’s question hang in the air. It wasn’t your place to tell him, so you’d let your lover do the honors if he wished.

“It was a successful meeting.” Was all the said in return, causing the Oseram to look between the two of you before glancing at Varl questionably. “Is there something I could help with?” this time Aloy spoke up, a gentle smile on her face.

Kotallo looked to you silently. “She does know more about the Far Zenith facility.” He nodded, “As I said it’s a personal matter, but if you have time…” he left the end of his statement open like a question, giving Aloy enough time to think about whether or not she really wanted in this.

“What do you need?”

The Tenakth glanced around the table and straightened his back a bit. “Gaia mentioned that the Zeniths bind… metal with flesh to make themselves stronger.” The look on Aloy’s face made it aware that she knew where the conversation was heading.

“She believes that the necessary data and materials lie in the place where Beta hid from the Zeniths.”

“Their ancient research lab…” Aloy muttered, nodding to herself.

You stepped forward with a small smile. “You know more about the Old War machines than both of us combined, plus…” trailing off, you ran your fingers through your hair. “We could really use your help.”

It was quiet for a moment before Aloy accepted your help. “The Zeniths probably still watch over the place… and we were lucky to get out the first time… but this is worth the risk.”

Kotallo smiled and shook his fist in the air, his whole demeanor changing to one of confidence. “Then by the Ten we shall see it through.”

“Thank you so much, Aloy… This means more than you’ll ever know. I’ll keep studying the build with Gaia so when you bring the materials back we can get it ready.”

Aloy nodded, saying that she would meet Kotallo at the research lab then rose from her seat at the table and made a beeline to her room.

The rest of the table was silent before Varl finally broke it. “So… you’re going to build an arm?”

“Yes, that is the plan.” Kotallo responded, looking down at his plate now. By now the others have finished eating, so after wishing Kotallo luck in his endeavors, they got up and went back to doing their own thing; you and your lover to eat alone.

“So,” Kotallo started, turning to face you. “you are not coming with us?” he didn’t sound hurt but did look a little disappointed. Putting your fork down, you moved so that you were facing him completely and smiled gently.

“My warrior, you know I am not the best fighter…” he shook his head, “You have me.” Your smile only grew in response. You did in fact have him and you knew you could always count on him.

“I’ll only get in the way… I’ll be here learning how to create your arm. It’s the best I can help without stepping on your toes.”

“I see,” he seemed to be reassured of your absence so the two of you finished your meal before heading to the exit. Aloy had just walked outside, but Kotallo had stopped right before the door and turned to you.

He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes. His hand gripped yours lovingly and you just stood there in silence for a moment.

“I shall return soon.” Was all the said after the silence felt too thick.

“I will be waiting for your return.” You met him halfway, your lips melting together, moving as one. A few blissful moments pass before you part and begin backing away from him.

“You best not keep Aloy waiting. Walk with the Ten.” You watch as he turns to the door and steps into the blistering cold, not moving from your spot until the door shuts in your face. 

“Gaia, could you share the files about prosthetics?”

“Certainly.”