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gaily-daily-musings · 11 months

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This is an outline for part 3 of my obimaul fic in which it started out as nasty throne sex on Mandalore that somehow turned into fluff and a plot. Here is the link to the series on ao3. Please enjoy this rough draft that concludes the story!

It takes a while for Obi-Wan to calm down from the revelation that the Chancellor is Sidious. But once he does they begin to prepare for his inevitable arrival. It doesn't go very well. They disagree on almost every plan they can come up with before they truly land on something.

The key to victory, Maul insists, is getting Sidious to come to them. Maul is convinced that to confront him on Coruscant would be disastrous. Obi-Wan disagrees. He thinks they should inform the Council. But Maul has no intention to inform the Council. Fuck the Council. Even if it worked, they would immediately lock Maul up and take Obi-Wan away.

Before they can come up with a unilateral decision, Anakin shows up with Ahsoka in tow. Their guns (sabers) ablazing. It's been a full week since Obi-Wan had been captured and (against the wishes of the Council) the two had snuck off to rescue Obi-Wan. Ahsoka tagged along because she wasn't gonna let Anakin have all the fun playing Hero.

They're ready to knock heads but when they arrive on Mandalore they find Obi-Wan having breakfast at the table with Maul and Savage.

Anakin rushes in causing a scene. Clearly they have brainwashed Obi-Wan! In the ensuing fight Obi-Wan plants himself between both parties, holding out his palms to stop the madness. He tells Anakin straight up that Sidious is Palpatine. Anakin doesn't believe him. He adamantly denies it and says that Maul has warped his thinking.

Maul sneers. "I knew we couldn't count on Sidious' new pet."

"What was that??" Anakin hisses.

"He's been grooming you since you first met! You're too far gone to be of any use to me, Skywalker!"

Anakin brandishes his weapon and everyone begins shouting again. Ahsoka is able to help calm Anakin down. Obi-Wan explains in a soft voice that Palpatine really was Sidious. He tricked them all. They need to fight.

"You will see when he arrives." Maul sneers. "You will all see."

Eventually Anakin believes Obi-Wan (sort of) but he doesn't trust the two Darksiders.

"We can take him on our own! We don't need these two!" Anakin snarls at Savage and Maul who both snarl back at him.

Anakin doesn't like this. Not one bit. Anakin and Maul continue to hiss like loth cats at each other. Obi-Wan has to painstakingly bring Maul and Anakin together without letting one kill the other. It's a massive headache.

Then Maul gets the idea that perhaps Anakin can be of use after all. With the "chosen one" here (he says this with the utmost sarcasm) perhaps they stand a chance of overwhelming the Sith Lord.

Anakin very maturely sticks his tongue out at him.

In order for their plan to lure Sidious to Mandalore to work, Anakin must mask his force presence. He HATES this plan. He doesn't want to wear the inhibitor cuffs. For peace of mind, they give Anakin the key so he can take the cuffs off anytime he wants.

Now with Anakin hidden from both Light and Dark users, Maul announces his rule to the rest of the galaxy. That he's taken over Mandalore and intends to begin his own little coalition of planets. It's all over the holonet. Now all they have to do is wait for Sidious to take the bait.

With nothing to do the next two days the group gets bored. In the meantime Anakin and Ahsoka play card games. Savage practices his forms. Obi-Wan wants to free Satine but Maul immediately refuses. He will free her only after the deed is done. Obi-Wan relents.

Later Obi-Wan slips away to go visit her. Maul follows him. True to his word, she'd been left alone in her cell since that first day. Alone to imagine all the horrors Obi-Wan was suffering on a daily basis.

She brightens when she sees him approach. Obi-Wan smiles at her. Like she is the sun come out. Maul hates her. He hates everything about her.

Satine thinks he's come to rescue her at last. Obi-Wan shakes his head. He explains that Anakin and Ahsoka are here and that they have a plan with Maul to defeat the evil Sith Lord Sidious who is actually the Chancellor. It's a lot for her to take in.

He tells her that he has promised not to turn Maul in after they take Sidious out. In exchange for his continued freedom, Maul will step down from Mandalore's ruler and reinstate Satine as Duchess.

"How do you know you can trust his word? What if the moment you kill Sidious he turns on you?"

"Well, the simple answer is that I have Anakin and Ahsoka with me."

"And the not so simple one?"

Obi-Wan hesitates. "I think…I think I can trust him with this. Gathering power, taking your throne, it was all to intimidate Sidious. With him gone there is no need for it anymore."

"But what about you, my love? I fear for you."

Obi-Wan presses a palm to the glass. She reaches for his hand. Pressing her own against his.

"I will be fine. I promise."

"Come back. Come back to me always."

Maul turns away. He's heard enough.

That evening they get ready for bed. Anakin and Ahsoka have insisted on staying with Obi-Wan as they keep watch the past two nights. Maul catches Obi-Wan on his way back from Satine and drags him back to his own room.

Maul locks the door behind him. He wants to hurt him. He wants to make him wither and scream the same way his heart does. How dare he even talk to her! How dare he look at her when he was not allowed!

"Strip." He snaps.

Obi-Wan blinks up. "Good evening to you too."

"Strip! Now!"

Obi-Wan frowns but does as he's told. He didn't have to. Not anymore. Skywalker was here with his little Padawan. More importantly, the inhibitor cuffs were gone. Obi-Wan could fight back if he wanted. In fact he had expected the other man to do just that. But he's not doing what Maul had expected at all. He's getting undressed just as Maul ordered. He should be telling Maul to leave. He should be clenching his fists and standing his ground. Maul would have responded by shoving him backwards. Then Obi-Wan was supposed to yell and call for help. Maul would get in a couple of punches before the welps came in and saved their precious Master from Maul's monstrous appetite.

But Obi-Wan sits on the edge of his bed. His chest is hairy, filled with scars from many battles past. He is a great warrior. And even for all his battle hardened skin, his heart remains open and soft. His eyes remain a bright blue. No gold to be seen.

Before he can truly register what was happening, Maul has undressed himself and climbed into Obi-Wan's lap. He wraps his arms around his neck. He breathes in his scent. His sweat.

"Fuck me." He demands petulantly.

Obi-Wan smirks. "Is that an order or a request?"

"We both know you'll do whatever you want either way. What does it matter?"

Obi-Wan does not push him off. He does not deposit Maul on the floor where he belongs. Obi-Wan's fingers trail down his stomach to his nethers.

Maul cannot stop himself from stiffening at the initial touch. The breach pulls up unwanted memories from his boyhood. He tries to swat them away. His shoulders start to shake regardless. Obi-Wan kisses his brow. He seems to understand Maul's need to keep going. He didn't want Obi-Wan to ask. Didn't need him to slow down.

Obi-Wan keeps fingering him, slow and steady. It's irritating.

"Just do it." Maul growls.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Why not?" Maul snaps. He should. Obi-Wan should want to hurt him.

"Because I don't derive pleasure from bringing others pain."

He repositions Maul back against the wall and settles between the vee of his legs. Obi-Wan presses in. At first it's stinging pain and hot flesh splitting him open. Obi-Wan's hands do not let go.

"Stay with me, darling." He says.

Maul swallows.

Obi-Wan shifts and his cock slots into place. Oh. Oh. That was–that was actually nice. Really, really nice. He…

"Fuck." Maul pants.

"That's the idea, love."

Their breaths mingle together. He moans loudly. Marveling at the pleasures he never knew existed.

Tomorrow, one or both of them may die. But tonight, this man was his and his alone. He curls close into his chest and kisses him.

In the morning at breakfast Anakin and Ahsoka aren't speaking to each other. They had a huge fight last night. Anakin doesn't want Ahsoka fighting with them against Sidious. Obi-Wan is inclined to agree. Ahsoka looks at him, betrayed. With both her Masters forbidding it, she is benched to the sidelines. But they compromise with her. She will wait outside, only coming in to help if they absolutely needed it.

Sidious takes the bait. He arrives the following afternoon. He is eager to dispose of the loose end of his former apprentice. Obi-Wan had not fully believed it until he looked upon the Chancellor's twisted face. It is ugly in his hatred. Palpatine looks at him with only minimal surprise. His mouth twists up into a cruel smile.

"A team up then?" He laughs darkly. "It will do you no good."

"They're not alone." A voice calls out.

Palpatine freezes. At last he looks unsure of himself. He turns to see Anakin Skywalker as he frees himself from the cuffs. They fall to the floor with a thud.

"Anakin my boy,"

"Save your lies, old man." Anakin hisses. "I don't want to hear them anymore."

Palpatine turns his angry gaze back up to Maul who smirks down at him.

"Something wrong?" He asks. "Did you think I did not know about you grooming your new apprentice?"

Palpatine attacks. Lightning spewing forth from his fingers.

The battle rages. It shakes the entire building with its force. Palpatine's saber flashes and plunges itself into Savage's chest. Maul screams and goes to his side. Savage's ragged breath wheezes in agony.

"I'm not like you brother. I never was."

With Maul distracted Palatine means to sever him as well. But Obi-Wan attacks, sending him back. Then Obi-Wan advances, thinking he's got him on the ropes. But it was a faint. Palpatine lashes out, wounding Obi-Wan on his side. He falls to the floor.

Anakin shouts, knocking the Sith Lord back. He puts himself between Obi-Wan and Palpatine, anger clear in his gaze. Maul jumps back into fray.

Together, the two fight Sidious with a ferocity even the dark lord of the Sith cannot match. Desperate, Sidious conjures lightning to his hands. He unleashes it in the direction of a helpless Obi-Wan, still clutching his side on the floor.

"Master!"

"Kenobi!"

Both men move. Maul is faster than Anakin. He pushes Obi-Wan out of the way, taking the full force of it. He screams as his skin is cooked from both inside and out.

In the end it is Anakin who delivers the final blow. Slicing Palpatine's head clean off his shoulders. Sidious is finally gone.

Obi-Wan crawls over to where Maul lies. Obi-Wan holds him to his chest, cradling him in his arms. Maul reaches up, running a hand over his cheek. He coughs as blood splatters over his chin.

"Tell me…are you–?"

"I'll be fine." Obi-Wan's lips brush his fingers. "Just hold on now, help is on the way."

Maul struggles to breathe, his hand curls into Obi-Wan's beard. He's been struck with force lightning before, but this was of a different caliber. Sidious had been aiming to kill, not maim.

Obi-Wan huffs, not unlike a laugh. "You saved my life." He says with incredulity. "Did I manage to finally teach you something about compassion after all?"

Maul wheezes, snorting gruffly. "Don't be…an idiot. The only one…allowed to kill you…is me."

He exhales and closes his eyes. It was over. It was finally over.

#i left this ambiguous on purpose #cuz i want ppl to imagine the ending they want #personally i prefer the one where maul dies #but you are free to assume he doesn't!#he's just resting his eyes!#a few years from now he'll pop back up like the cockroach he is #and then claim Obi-Wan once and for all #obimaul #fic drabble

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faerywhimsy · 1 year

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I am being completely normal about quietly compiling a Devil's Minion playlist and chatting to @eosphoroz about it. Wanting to track it before I forget why I grabbed each of them.

AKA: I went and gave myself more than two hours of feels, and now need to talk about it.

Ended up being a bit of a fanfic rec along the way as well, if you stick with it 😅

Everybody Wants to Rule the World - Lorde cover (2013)

Daniel got everything he wants, coming to Lestat's house in New Orleans after his interview with the vampire. A vampire has found him here! Only, Armand is far more than Daniel bargained for.

Welcome to your life There's no turning back Even while we sleep We will find you

Let's Dance - David Bowie (1983)

I'll admit this one first found its way into my playlist because of this Daniel/Marius fanfic by the same name, written by @cup-of-lixx. (Just know it's not the song the author intended listened to along with it.)

But, fuck, if this isn't the song that goes hand-in-hand with the QotD, 'Go now, start running!' line, I don't know what to tell you.

If you say run I'll run with you And if you say hide We'll hide Because my love for you Would break my heart in two If you should fall into my arms And tremble like a flower

The Frail - Nine Inch Nails (1999)

In those moments when Daniel thinks Armand has lost Daniel's trail, he pauses to eat or drink something and struggles to learn to recoup his losses. Only then to find Armand staring at him from across the street, or from under that bus stop.

This little recognised piece is a 114 second instrumental without lyrics. But I feel the title and tone of the track perfectly incapsulate Daniel's human frailty in those moments he's forced to introspect on what his life has already become, and even Armand's last words to him.

"I am going to let you leave here. I want to follow you, watch you, see where you go. As long as I find you interesting, I won't kill you. And of course, I may lose interest altogether and not bother to kill you. You may have hope in that. And maybe, with luck, I'll lose track of you. I have my limitations, of course. You have the world to roam, and you can move by day. Go now. Start running. I want to see what you do, I want to know what you are."

Hurricane - 30 Seconds to Mars (2009)

That whole run and chase part of the story happens in a bunch of vignettes, doesn't it? Well, good thing I have a few other songs to cover this period of time. If the last one was from Armand's PoV, this is from Daniel's.

Do you really want? Do you really want me? Do you really want me dead or alive to torture for my sins?

Sacrament (Acoustic) - HIM (2003)

Is it possible to have a VC playlist without 'His Infernal Majesty' (omg). Never mind that Ville Valo and his host of songs remains my existing head canon for Lestat during his rockstar period, this song perfectly captures the pull Daniel begins to feel towards Armand before he's even come to accept it.

I know my weak prayers aren't enough to heal Oh the ancient wounds so deep and so dear The revelation is of hatred and fear

Way Out Of Here - Porcupine Tree (2007)

Once Armand starts letting Daniel out of his sight again—largely because Daniel starts demanding, begging, irritating about becoming a vampire—Daniel starts running away. That'll show Armand! Daniel thinks. Only, he begins to start to realise that his time with Armand isn't so easily forgotten as all that.

I'll try to forget you And I know that I will In a thousand years or maybe a week I'll burn all your pictures, cut out your face The shutters are down and the curtains are closed And I've covered my tracks Disposed of the car and I'll try to forget even your name And the way that you look when you're sleeping

Opheliac - Emilie Autumn (2006)

I already made a post on this, but the TL;DR is that this has both Daniel's dysfunction vs Armand's composure in the form of Shakespearean quotations as different viewpoints within the lyrics.

You know the games I play And the words I say When I want my own way You know the lies I tell When you've gone through hell And I say I can't stay

Wanna Be Sure - Aidan Hawken (2010)

Daniel always leaves, but he always comes back to Armand again. Daniel always leaves, but Armand takes him back again. Neither of them can help themselves.

I keep coming back To you everytime Washing the walls of the room that you slept And the place that you hide I wanna be sure That your hearts on fire And your gonna be pure And that your love is all mine

Video Games - Lana Del Rey (2012)

This one I feel viscerally whenever I read a fic where Daniel is high or drunk out of his mind and completely, completely devoted to Armand.

There are way too many of those to link here, it being the central canon theme.

He holds me in his big arms Drunk and I am seeing stars This is all I think of It's you, it's you, it's all for you Everything I do I tell you all the time Heaven is a place on earth with you

Bloodstream - Stateless (2007)

Boy, this one's a heart jerker brought across from another vampire fandom, also very much pressing on those themes of obsession and addiction.

I think I might've inhaled you I can feel you behind my eyes You gotten into my bloodstream I can feel you floating in me

Possession - Sarah McLachlan (1993)

And just because there's the tiniest hint of a sweetness in these years between our boys (although truthfully we do get more of it in fandom) it felt like this rounded out our trio of Daniel loves Armand more than he loves his own life songs, and sometimes Armand even knows it.

mercy in you by @apoptoses is a freakishly good example of a moment of the strange sweetness between them.

My body aches to breathe your breath Your words keep me alive And I would be the one To hold you down Kiss you so hard I'll take your breath away And after I'd wipe away the tears

I Grieve - Peter Gabriel (1998)

This song frequently pisses me right off. It's got this really sweet melody for like, the first 3/4 of it, and then it ends out on this ridiculously bop-hopeful melody completely at odds with the rest of it.

But today, when listening to it as a song that starts while Armand is coming to reconcile breaking his vow never to make a fledgling with his blood, followed by the false hope of what might come afterwards... it actually works fabulously.

And I can't handle this I grieve, for you You leave, me Let it out and move on Missing what's gone They say life carries on .... Did I dream this belief Or did I believe this dream? Now I will find relief I grieve

Bel Air - Lana Del Rey (2012)

The haunting melody playing in the background of the movie version of the mind vision of Venice that Armand creates for Daniel as he turns him, the last time before the veil of silence falls between them.

There's an argument with this song that the corruption of wealth as evil signified in a place like Bel Air could mean this place represents for Hell, which I gotta say is also On Point with Armand's warnings.

Don't be afraid of me Don't be ashamed Walk in the way of my soft resurrection Idol of roses, iconic soul I know your name Lead me to war with your brilliant direction

Hardest of Hearts - Florence and the Machine (2009)

I heard this song for the first time via this Armand/Lestat fanart by @martinijordan. What can I say, it also makes me think of Armand turning Daniel from his PoV.

My heart swells like the water at wait Can't stop myself before it's too late Hold on to your heart Because I'm coming to take you Hold on to your heart Because I'm coming to break you

Hero - Nickleback (2003)

Akasha has just been killed. Daniel's a vampire, Armand's a vampire, they're both alive and together, and for just one brief, shiny moment... it seems like everything between them is going to be just fine.

I am so high. I can hear heaven. No heaven, no heaven dont hear me. Now that the world isn't ending It's love that I'm sending to you.

Euphoria (Firefly) - Delirium (1999)

As a vampire, Daniel is suddenly exposed to senses unimaginable to his human self from before. It's intoxicating and raw in this new and completely different way that the alcohol, the drugs, they didn't even touch. Daniel was so, so right about this being the only thing he ever wanted.

I never want to loose What I have finally found There's a requiem A new congregation And it's telling me go forward And walk under a brighter sky Every nerve glowing like a firefly

It Can't Rain All The Time - Jane Siberry (1994)

Will I ever not also think of The Crow with this song? That movie with its many similar visual themes to VC. For me, this song is the very beginning of Daniel's madness after turning, before he realises it's not exactly a 'normal' part in the process of becoming a vampire.

Sometimes you can barely tell the difference Between darkness and light Do you have faith In what we believe? The truest test is when we cannot When we cannot see There's something wrong, and It's hard to belive that love will prevail

Anna Begins (Acoustic) - Counting Crows (1993)

Make An Exception, a Fucking Devastating fanfic by @hekateinhell, but also words that are present in the lyrics to Anna Begins.

So now I'm always thinking of Daniel's madness and this song together. (Go read this fic, it will tear your heart out and make you cry in the best way - note: this is also not the song that was intended for listening with this fic by the author.)

he's talking in his sleep It's keeping me awake and [Daniel] begins to toss and turn And every word is nonsense but I understand and Oh lord, I'm not ready

Bring Me the Disco King - David Bowie (2003)

Ahahaha, this is Armand railing at Daniel because he wants to leave, despite Armand determined that all fledglings are doomed to loathe their makers, and basically turning that into a self fulfilling prophecy that both of them must live through.

It was bad when Louis left him. It's gonna be 70,000,000 times worse with Daniel.

Killing time in the 70's Smelling of love through the moist wind Don't let me know when you're opening the door Close me in the dark, let me disappear Soon there'll be nothing left of me Nothing left to release Dance, dance, dance through the fire

The Wooden Boat - Miranda Sex Garden (1994)

Full on madness for Daniel. Not with Armand anymore, but immediately before Marius sweeps him up. Has anyone registered my love of the minor key for this playlist yet? Hnng.

Hear me out, there isn't going to be a 'The Model Trains' song. However, there is a 'The Wooden Boat' song, and it's just freaky and eerie with only three stanzas for over six minutes, growing into a crescendo of background noises that speak beautifully to Daniel's gradual overstimulation and the world becoming an impossible place for him to live in anymore.

Bonus: This can be followed by the title track, 'A Fairytale About Slavery' then 'Cover My Face', for maximum indie music mind fuck.

For a moment you were almost there Through your veil I saw you stare Follow me, I'll lead you through my dreams Let me share the only thing I call my own

Medicine - Daughter (2015)

I was listening to this on repeat and making myself cry while writing Daniel in his madness the other day (no I'm fine, thanks for asking).

Technically this is definitely well into the 'playing with model trains' timeframe for me, rather than Devil's Minion, but it definitely gives the same angst vibes so, screw it, I'm including it here.

You could still be, what you want to What you said you were, when I met you You've got a warm heart You've got a beautiful brain But it's disintegrating

Hello - Evanescence (2003)

Look, so Daniel is the Devil's Minion, so therefore any song that makes me think of him is still technically Devil's Minion.

Okay. So, if the last song is Marius watching over Daniel and being aware of his mental state, this is Daniel inside his own mind being incredibly aware of his own failing state, over which there's nothing he can do. Other than be conscious of it, which is actually a big step.

If I smile and don't believe Soon I know I'll wake from this dream Don't try to fix me I'm not broken Hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide Don't cry

My Beautiful - Lennon ft. Travis Meeks (2001)

Every single incredibly unsatisfying phone call between Armand and Daniel whilst Daniel is still vacationing at the Marius Home for Wayward Vampires (term taken from the fanfic scars by @serenwanders)

You called, I answered, but baby I'm only half awake 'Hush little one, with you here everything is going to be okay,' Is all you say but what if things don't go that way? It's over, we both know, we're both tired of playing the parts I said, 'Goodbye,' you said, 'Oh well nothing's really lost,' Call every now and then just to hear your voice talk to me You still say, 'Everything's all right' But it's not and that's something you're too blind to see

Just Give Me A Reason - P!nk ft. Nate Ruess (2012)

A tiny bit of hope in the jungle, and another phone conversation no doubt. Marius is trying to convince Armand that, after all his time with Daniel now, from Daniel's perspective at least, it seems to him all is not lost.

Alternate take: This is Daniel absolutely shitting himself as he and Marius ready themselves for Daniel to see Armand in person again for the first time in decades.

Just give me a reason, just a little bit's enough Just a second we're not broken just bent And we can learn to love again I never stop, you're still written in the scars on my heart You're not broken just bent and we can learn to love again

Rolling in the Deep - Adele (2011)

Everything is so. freaking. polite. when Armand and Daniel see each other that first time. It's like they're pod!versions of each other in front of everyone else.

But when they get a moment to themselves, there's this blow out argument, an end to treading on egg shells like they have been since Armand turned Daniel nearly 30 years ago. It's messy. Armand blames Daniel for leaving him. Daniel blames Armand for doing his best to make Daniel hate him. And, at the end, the arguing feels so familiar and comfortable that both of them start to relax in the beginning of healing their past together.

You had my heart inside (you're gonna wish you) Of your hands (never had met me) And you played it (tears are gonna fall) To the beat (rolling in the deep)

Hello - Lionel Richie ft. Jennifer Nettles (1983)

Forgiveness. Can you imagine? Indulging in obsessive behaviour is something Daniel will always have to watch for, but he and Armand have been through Hell together and come out the other side now at Trinity Gate. They earn their happiness and, finally, an ability to see and accept each other as (relative) equals.

And they never let each other go again.

Hello, is it me you're looking for? I can see it in your eyes, I can see it in your smile You're all I've ever wanted and my arms are open wide 'Cause you know just what to say, and you know just what to do And I want to tell you so much, I love you

#completely normal #the devil's minion

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more-than-a-princess · 2 years

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“Please hold one moment, Sonia-san. There’s something I would like to give you before your inevitable return to Novoselic.” As soon as he manages to capture her attention, Ryuto proceeds to extend a rectangular box adorned with grey wrapping paper and red ribbons towards her. Inside, she’ll find the complete volume of the Monstrumologost series by Rick Yancey, along with a tin of his favourite white peach oolong tea. “I recall hearing you say you had yet to read a certain author’s works and that you are also partial to tea, so I combined both into my gift for you. Hopefully, one of these would serve as a suitable distraction on your plane ride back home.”

Sonia's Birthday 2022 - Accepting birthday asks/posts from mutuals!

She hadn't had much time that day: just long enough to indulge in a cup of milk tea (sans sweets, to her regret) at a café with Ryuto before she needed to go to the airport. Even princesses with private planes kept to a schedule (as best they could), but she'd been firm on spending some time with him before she was thrust back into her royal life with little room to breathe. And if anyone knew what those expectations were like, it was him: royal in everything but title, it seemed. She could be candid with him about the week and a half of ceremonies, of official appearances, of festivals, and finally a ball that would last until sunrise, after which the younger revelers would hop a plane for the unofficial afterparty: 48 hours in Ibiza, before Sonia was mercifully allowed to return home. Some of it she was eager to experience, other bits she dreaded, but it was pertinent to him, or so Sonia thought, as some of the social circles his parents kept were making the journey to the annual Masquerade Ball after wrangling invitations from the Royal Family.

But just as she'd finished paying the bill and prepared to leave, he'd stopped her. Thank goodness, she thought, as she eased back into her seat with a smile. She would've much rather spent the rest of the afternoon and evening in his company, instead of alone on a private plane en route to her old life, but she'd take every minute she could get. "Yes?" She asked, setting her handbag aside on an empty chair. "Oh, Tsukishima-san, you did not have to but I am so pleased you have thought of me! May I open it here?"

His follow-up explanation was indication enough that he meant for it to be enjoyed on the trip home, so she grinned and carefully opened the paper where it had been taped and sealed: ripping right into it was seen as crude and hardly appropriate for a princess. Once she'd unwrapped it fully though, Sonia gasped in delight, holding up the book and the tea in both hands. "Ooh!" She exclaimed, "I've heard of this one! It's supposed to be super cool and super scary, with vivid descriptions of gore! This is exactly the sort of thing I've been wanting to read, fo' sho'! And the tea sounds lovely: the kettle on the plane has multiple settings for brewing tea, so preparing an oolong at the correct temperature should be of no issue. Thank you, Tsukishima-san! These will be a more than suitable distraction, indeed!"

Tucking both items safely into her leather tote, she exhaled a content, yet tired, sigh. She hadn't even gotten on the plane yet and she was already exhausted by what faced her: rigid schedules, rigid diet, people with rigid senses of humor and a hearty appetite for gossip, particularly where her family was concerned. "I feel rather confident you'd detest all of this, but would you mind terribly if I texted you throughout the duration of the trip? Just with things I think you might enjoy, or when it all gets to be too much. I have my limits, with socializing and all: usually when people become too petty and spiteful, I think. And I can't really say what's on my mind most of the time, like I can with you."

#more-than-a-princess answered #causalitylinked #Non-Despair AU: Hope's Peak Academy verse #(Sonia's Birthday 2022!)#(This is so considerate of Ryuto omg! Yes she'd definitely love this series!)#(I need to go back and read it myself: I've only perused sections of it)#(I hope he doesn't mind her texting him at random hours when she's fed up with her family's friends/the aristocracy)#(I can already imagine some of the Japanese attendees asking about him and her friendship with him)#(I feel bad for the both of them tbh)

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the-scandalorian · 3 years

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Okay so i can't stop thinking about the mistletoe kiss prompt with din...like whatever planet they're on has the same tradition. Ur there at the holiday time and see couples/people kissing all over the place and din aches to see you all lit up as you take in the sparkling lights and cheer and he's never quite been willing to risk it all as he is right now, every time you pass a sprig of space mistletoe that's even the slightest bit out of view of people. Anyway when you get back to the ship he suddenly take out a sprig and holds it above you and ur like ??? Oho, now you want to be cheerful 😏😏

Thank you for the request, love!! I had way too much fun writing a winter holiday fic in the middle of the summer?? I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader Rating: T Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: unapologetic fluff, the lightest spice

You were only here because you had worn Mando down with sheer persistence. You’d wheedled and charmed—he’d probably say annoyed—him for several hours as you tracked, captured, and walked the bounty back to the Crest together. And he’d finally grunted, “Fine.”

That one gruff word made you smile, though, because coaxing him to do what you wanted was getting noticeably easier, and that made your heart flutter with reckless hope.

Honestly, he’d been almost indulgent recently, by his standards at least. Mando—who had always been single-minded when it came to jobs—had started to go out of his way to give you what you wanted, even if it put you a few hours off your tight schedule. You noted every tiny change, every little concession he made for your happiness.

A few weeks ago, he stopped a hunt early when you mentioned off-hand that you had a headache. Despite your reassurances that you were fine, he brooked no argument, insisting that it would make no difference to apprehend the quarry the following day.

Every meal, he tossed you your favorite ration pack out of the choices on hand—because by this point, he knew your tastes by heart.

He told you to keep the black long-sleeved shirt he lent you one night when you really needed to do laundry. You remarked on how soft and cozy it was, and when you tried to return it, he’d said, “Keep it.” You were pretty sure he liked when you wore it around the ship before bed. His gaze lingered. It burned.

Mando’s softness had started to show, and—what was even better—this side of him seemed only available to you. He was the same cold, hard Mandalorian to everyone else. Whether he liked it or not, it seemed that you were slowly seeping into the vulnerable spaces between his armor, insinuating yourself into the heart of the man underneath. You were starting to suspect that you were his weakness... and fuck if that fact alone didn’t make you weak for him.

Your influence only extended so far, however.

He was here—at the local winter festival of the planet you were hunting on—but he wasn’t happy about it. No, he stood out amidst all the cheer and merriment, a stiff silver statue with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his beskar awash with a rainbow of flickering reflections.

The festival was an enchanting dream around him. The narrow street was lined with stalls selling baked treats and warm drinks and colorful gifts. Strings of blinking lights were wrapped around every streetlight and crisscrossed over your heads; multicolored ribbons and sparkling stars bedecked every doorway, windowsill, and kiosk. The delicious scents of cinnamon, vanilla, and cardamom laced the cool evening air. The music was joyful and upbeat, the festive atmosphere buzzing with warmth and excitement. All the revelers were wrapped up against the chill of the evening in colorful knitted sweaters, scarves, and mittens, tromping through the light dusting of snow. Couples walked by, hand-in-hand, smiling dopily at each other. Everything glittered with the lightest dusting of fresh powder, and children were gathering the fallen snow on the ground and pelting each other with snowballs, zipping between harried looking adults.

It was almost comical how out of place Mando looked surrounded by all of that. He was being his usual withholding self, standing off to the side while you perused the stalls of the local artisans and bought a warm, sugary drink and a cookie the size of your face. He never let you out of his sight, however, always within arm’s reach. He’d confirm your presence every so often with a hand on your shoulder or back as you walked next to him. You weren’t sure if it was to make him feel better or to make you feel better in the tight press of the crowd—either way, you liked it.

You were warm and happy—delighting in the joyful spirit of the holiday, but more importantly, in the knowledge that Mando had a soft spot for you.

As you meandered down the busy street, you noticed that above every doorway or stone archway, a little bunch of leaves was hung. You assumed they were purely decorative until you saw couple after couple of all shapes and sizes walk under one of those sprigs, look up, smile, and kiss.

After the fifth couple, you stopped and turned to Mando to say, “I guess it’s a tradition.”

Mando stood there, the stern lines of his visor fixed on the two women kissing sweetly under a stone archway and said, “Guess so.”

“That’s so cute!” You beamed as you watched them.

The snowy evergreen forest that bordered the town made for an idyllic backdrop behind them. As if on cue, tiny flakes of snow started falling softly, completing the dreamy picture before you. You squealed in pure joy at the adorable sight, clasping your hands together.

Mando laughed beside you, a warm chuckle crackling through his modulator. When you looked up at him, you saw that his visor was trained on your face, no longer on the couple.

“Mando! Look at you getting into the spirit,” you teased, poking his arm playfully.

He cocked his head at you, his voice laced with amusement as he said, “I watched you break a man’s arm this morning, and now you’re squealing at two people kissing in the snow. I’m experiencing some whiplash.”

“I contain multitudes, Mando,” you laughed.

“Clearly.”

“Come on,” you said with a grin, pulling him along, “I want to see the rest.”

From then on, your stomach swooped a little each time you walked under a decorated archway with Mando by your side. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was also thinking about kissing you each time you passed under one of those little sprigs.

Probably. Yes. No. Definitely not.

...Maybe?

As you walked down the long, winding street, it gradually started snowing harder, and the wind picked up. When the downpour shifted suddenly to an icy sleet, all the revelers around you exclaimed and scurried to find shelter from the deluge. Mando grabbed your hand and pulled you into a recessed doorway and right away, you looked up. You couldn’t help yourself—you knew it would be there. Sure enough, a little bunch of greenery was suspended over your heads.

You looked down quickly, too quickly, hoping Mando wouldn’t look up and notice it too. You didn’t want him to feel weird about it...but of course, he noticed it—he tilted his helmet up to inspect it for a moment. To your surprise, when he looked back down at you, he stepped toward you. Your heart dropped. He reached a gloved hand toward your face, and you held your breath, smiling up uncertainly at him. For one insane second, you thought he was going to lift his helmet right there in the privacy of this little alcove and kiss you.

Instead of cupping your cheek, however, he brushed the tips of his gloved fingers over your hair.

“Snow,” he explained, dusting it off.

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, trying not to let disappointment seep into your words.

You stood in awkward silence, waiting for the gale to pass. Luckily, just a few minutes later, the gusts of wind quieted, the snow slowing again to a light sprinkle of powder.

“Shall we?”

He nodded and followed you into the steady stream of people reemerging from under doorways and awnings. You wandered over to another promising looking dessert stand, Mando in toe, and examined the baked goods laid out before you. You made your purchase and thanked the vendor, but when you turned, Mando wasn’t behind you anymore.

You whipped your head around, looking for his tall, shiny form amidst the throngs of people. The smallest tendril of panic twined around your heart. His sudden absence underscored the fact that he never let you out of his sight when you were together in public.

You turned around again, and he was there.

“Where—”

He made no mention of his disappearance, instead interrupting you to ask, “Ready to go?”

“Wha—oh yeah, we can go,” you replied, adding good-naturedly, “You have been very patient, and I know this has been torture for you... so even though I want to stay here forever, we can leave.”

He tilted his helmet sassily at you, then turned on his heel and walked in the direction of the Razor Crest. You chuckled, finishing your treat as you trailed after him.

When you reached the edge of town, leaving behind the crowds of people as you entered the quiet forest, you squatted and scraped together some of the freshly fallen snow. You packed it into a compact ball and held it behind your back until you and Mando were within sight of the Razor Crest. Grinning, you hurried forward until you were only a few steps behind him and cocked your arm, tossing it straight at the back of his helmet. It hit him with a muted slush sound, and he stopped in his tracks. You froze, the biggest, guiltiest smile on your face as you watched snow slide down the back of his helmet and drop onto his cape.

He turned slowly.

“...Oops?” you said, wringing your hands together in mock contrition.

He perched his hands on his hips. You couldn’t hear it from this short distance but you could tell by the way his shoulders dropped that he’d let out a dramatic sigh.

You threw your hands up. “It’s part of the festivities, Mando—a tradition—I had to throw a snowball to round out the celebration.”

“Well, you asked for it.”

Your smile faltered when he bent down to scrape together his own snowball. Uh oh. You spun around and took off at a run across the clearing, heading toward the trees to find cover. You screeched when his snowball hit you square between the shoulder blades. Of course he’d have perfect aim. You smiled when you heard his muted chuckle behind you.

You ducked behind a thick trunk and crouched down to pat together another snowball—much larger this time. You straightened and peeked your head around the tree, but Mando was nowhere to be seen. Shit. You backed up slowly, retreating further into the forest as quietly as possible as you scanned the area for movement.

You whipped around just as a silver blur sprinted up behind you and shrieked when Mando wrapped two strong arms around you, pinning your own arms to your sides.

“Drop it.”

You giggled and released the snowball; it fell to the ground with a muffled whump.

“Surrender,” he growled, adopting his serious bounty hunter voice.

Heat unapologetically surged in your belly at the intimate sound of his voice so close to your ear and the feeling of his body pressed tightly to your back. “And what if I refuse?”

“I’ll show you no mercy.”

You grinned. “Do your worst, Mando.”

In one quick movement, he released you from his embrace and bent to catch your knees and back to sweep you up into his arms.

You laughed, wrapping an arm around his neck: “This is showing me no mercy?”

He started toward the Crest, looking down at your face to say: “I mean, did you want me to bring you in cold? That’s your only other option.”

Holding you even closer to his chest, he jostled you slightly as he pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp lowered as you approached.

“You would never! You’d have no one to go to winter festivals with if you killed me! And I know how much you love celebrations and cheer and fanfare.”

He scoffed. “You’d be surprised. I liked some parts of it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

He walked up the ramp and into the hull.

You smiled up at him expectantly, eager to watch him scramble for a reply: “Okay, which parts?”

“I’ll show you.” He leaned down to set you on your feet, slapping the control behind him to shut the ramp.

You rolled your eyes, sure he had nothing: “Okay, then, show me.”

Gloved fingers circled your wrist, tugging you toward him until you were only a few inches from his armored chest. You looked up at the black void of his glass visor, your bewildered expression reflected back at you.

“Close your eyes for me.”

“How are you going to show me if my eyes are closed?”

He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled something small out of it. When he opened his hand, you saw that it was one of the bundles of that mystery plant from the festival. He held it up so it was suspended between you, above your head. Your eyes widened.

“Where did you—?”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes fluttered closed immediately this time. A gasp escaped your lips when you heard the hiss of his helmet’s release.

You felt the ghost of his breath first, warm as it fanned over your face. He was waiting, giving you the chance to move away if you wanted to. You stayed put, the corner of your mouth twitching up in a smile. Just when you were about to lose patience and blindly reach out for him, he pressed his lips to yours tentatively, still gauging your reaction. As soon as he felt you respond, kissing him back eagerly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you close. Your hands found their way around his neck, and you deepened the kiss, parting your lips.

He pulled back a tiny bit to whisper: “I like this part.”

***

Part 2

***

everything taglist: @chattychell @fisforfulcrum @iamskyereads @lexloon @meanperegrine @over300books @rebelpitstop @spideysimpossiblegirl @tacticalsparkles @tobealostwanderer @trashbuns @tuskens-mando

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quindolyn · 3 years

Note

plz write george smut thank you :)

Anytime || George Weasley

Word Count: 2,201

a/n: I’m so sorry this took me longer than I wanted it to finish. I’ve been pretty all over the place. I hope you like it! After this I’m getting out a Harry imagine I have requested in my inbox and then I’ll start writing whatever you guys vote for!

Warnings: daddy kink, quickie

Masterlist

It started out innocent. You swore it did, you never imagined that it would get this far, nor was that your intention.

It started off with you not noticing that the top couple buttons of your blouse had popped undone exposing a rather excessive amount of cleavage for the common room. Especially when it was flooded with a bunch of third and fourth years, many of whom were ogling you like they’d never seen a human woman before.

George was torn between giving you his coat to cover you from the less than respectful gazes targeted at you and using it to hide his erection.

Next it was crossing your legs in class when you sat next to him, revealing miles of your beautiful legs that he couldn’t help but drool over as your uniform skirt hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.

Then it was brushing your fingers across his bicep when you were talking to him in class, or sometimes across his chest.

You had no clue how much you had been riling up your boyfriend over the last week or so. Now, it was sort of hard to miss the affect you had on him as evidence of such in the form of his hardening cock was pressed into your back.

“Georgie?” You craned your head to gaze up at him, blinking owlishly as he stared down at you, practically salivating at the mere sight of you.

You were shocked when he basically growled at you, in hindsight, what you were wearing may have been a little much for a party in the Ravenclaw common room but most of the other girls in attendance were just as dressed up. You all were all young and attractive, why not go all out for the last party of the year?

In a slinky, white slip dress, that could’ve easily passed as modest lingerie you had every eye in the room on you. Some envious, most not as respectful as they probably ought to be, and one pair completely eye fucking you as he was torn between falling to your feet and worshipping you like the goddess you were and pulling you into a broom closet where he would punish you for wearing such provocative clothing. It was too much, all of the teasing, whether or not it was intentional, and now this.

George was desperate, he needed you.

“George?” You called out his name again as he looped his arm along your waist, pulling you into his side as he guided you out of the crowded, smoky room and into the empty corridor directly outside of it.

You were tense, he’d barely said a word all night since you’d met him outside the Ravenclaw common room, and he wasn’t saying anything now either. Which led you to the question, what was wrong with him?

All you received in response was a grunt as he tried to pull you along with him, but your legs were no match for his much longer ones, getting frustrated with the miniscule progress the two of you were making he paused, accessing your figure before huffing and picking you up. It all happened so quickly that you barely had time to squeal as he threw you over his shoulder as though you weighed nothing before he strode off down the corridor.

Your attempts to track where you were going were futile as you lost track somewhere between the third left and second right.

What you didn’t miss, what you couldn’t have missed, was the straining erection pressing against the crotch of his pants.

His off putting silence continued as he sat you down on the ground, rather harshly if you may add, especially considering the sinfully tall stilettos strapped to your feet.

“God George, do you think you could be a little bit more careful? I-”

You were cut off as George took your face in his hand, pressing your cheeks together just enough to make your lips puff out in an exaggerated pout.

“You really wanna take that tone with me Darling? After this past week?”

“What are you talking about George? What did I do?” Your voice was muffled as you tried to speak with his hand, not lightening its grasp on your face.

He cocked his head to the side, his gaze dragging up and down your body before returning to your flushed face, “You really don’t know do you?” His voice was hoarse as he spoke, conveying the arousal thrumming through his veins.

You shook your head, indicating that you indeed had no clue as to what he was talking about.

“Oh poppet,” He cooed, brushing a piece of hair out of your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear, “You really are that innocent aren’t you? S’just everything about you, drives me insane, the way your skirt rides up your thighs, how you brush your fingers against my arm, fuck this dress you’re wearing.”

Your gaze followed his as it dropped to your body, ample amounts of heaving cleavage visible from the low cut of the dress, the hem riding up dangerously high, just as he had described your skirt doing.

“You’ve had me painfully hard for you (Y/N),” He buried his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as if it was oxygen and he was stranded at the bottom of the ocean, “Need you, need you now.”

“Need you too George,” You moaned, tangling your fingers in his soft hair, pulling slightly to tip back his head and allow you to mesh your lips with his in a slow, sensual kiss. Nothing was rushed as his tongue slipped from his mouth into yours, exploring the cavity of your mouth.

Flicking your tongue with his he slid his hands under the hem of your dress, letting his fingers slide up the backs of your thighs until they grazed against the swell of your bum. Your bare bum.

“No panties angel?” He practically moaned as he brought your skirt up around your waist, revealing your bare ass and cunt to the chilly air of the seemingly abandoned broom closet.

“Every pair I have you could see through my dress Daddy,” You whined, suppressing a shiver as your new level of exposure.

“So you decided to go without them,” George asked you, condescension dripping from his voice as he cocked his head to the side, gazing down at you as he towered over your frame, “Gonna be the death of me bunny.”

George pulled down the thin straps of your dress, revealing that you weren’t wearing a bra either, the silk ivory fabric bunching around your waist.

“Fuck,” He swore pinching your nipples with the rough pads of his fingers before bending down to capture one of your hard buds inbetween his teeth, rolling it gently before sucking, not hard enough to mark, but enough to have you gasping.

You threw your head back at the sensation, your mouth left gaping at the immense pleasure and before you knew it George had his hands underneath your thighs, supporting you as he pushed you against the door of the room.

His large hands guided your legs around his waist, there your ankles criss crossed, locking you against his body. Your small, nimble fingers quickly found their way to the zipper of his jeans, unzipping them so you could pull both them and his boxers down just enough to bring out his throbbing cock.

He’d been hard the instant he saw you, dealing with his throbbing member all night hadn’t exactly been easy and now that you were here, pressed up against a wall, basically naked, needy for him. George couldn’t deny himself any longer.

A pathetic whimper left your mouth as he brushed the head of his cock through your folds, once, then twice before he fully sheathed himself inside of you. Not taking the time to work in his impressive length inch by inch, he’d been more than patient, he deserved to get to make you feel good.

“Daddy!” You screamed as the tip of his prick brushed at a spot deep inside of you, making you feel deliciously full.

George clamped his hand over your mouth, his gaze boring into yours, “Gotta keep quiet for me bunny, can’t have anyone finding us like this, can’t have them knowing that I can’t go more than an hour without needing to be inside of you.”

You nodded your head, his hand still clasped around your mouth.

“Can you do that for me baby?” He asked, still not moving inside of you, giving you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Yes Daddy,” You answered as he pulled his hand from your mouth, instead using it to stabilize himself against the wall, “Please Daddy, move, need you to move.”

“Okay pretty girl,” He smiled as he began to pull out before harshly thrusting back into you, making you arch your back against the splintering wood of the door.

Your hands grappled for the hair at the nape of his neck to ground yourself to him as he thrusted into you, his strokes were deep and quick. There was an urgency in his motions no doubt fueled by the fact that someone could walk by you guys at any time and become curious as to what was making all of that noise.

Pushing your hips down, you tried to meet his thrusts as he pushed himself up into you, “Want it Daddy, making me feel so good,” You whimpered, clenching your eyes closed as the knot forming in your stomach tightened, slowly but surely as wave after wave of pleasure ripple through your body.

Readjusting his grasp on you George thrusted in particularly harshly, prodding at your g-spot over and over again as he observed how well you reacted to his movements.

Knowing that there was no way he was going to last long, not after the week of torture and night of constant temptation he brought one of his hands down to work your clit. Finding it instantly he began tracing figure eights against it, reveling in the way you writhed against him.

“You gonna cum bunny?” He smiled, speeding up the pace of fingers, “You gonna cum all over Daddy’s fingers? Make a mess for me?”

“Yes Daddy,” You whined, trying to match the volume of his voice, not wanting to be too loud, “Yes Daddy please can I cum?”

Deciding he was feeling benevolent he nodded down at you, pinching his fingers around your delicate bundle of nerves sending you careening over the edge of pleasure.

You didn’t know if you stayed quiet as you should’ve because the ecstasy that overtook you was all consuming, blotting out your vision, as your legs tightened around George’s waist. It was like you blacked out, all you could focus on, all you could feel was the knot in your stomach unraveling, leaving you a moaning, quivering mess.

If it weren’t for the throaty grunts he released as he came inside of you, rope after rope of cum painting the inside of your cunt, but his noises grounded you, bringing you back to the musty little closet.

Taking a minute to collect himself George brushed his chapped lips across your brow before slowly pulling out of you and tucking his softening member back into his pants.

Setting you don’t gingerly on the floor he pulled the skirt of your dress down so that it was once again covering your bum before he pulled the delicate straps of the dress back up your shoulders.

“There we go poppet,” He murmured, eyes raking over you, not in the ravenous manner they had earlier but with a distinctly George tenderness, making sure you were properly covered and okay, “Let’s get you up to my dorm, yeah?”

“But the party-” You began before he cut you off.

“Nope, don’t gotta worry about the party, need to get you cleaned up pretty girl.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, peering up at him, unable not to feel just a little guilty that you were the reason George wouldn’t get to go back and celebrate with his friends.

“Of course I am (Y/N),” His hand found its way under your jaw, tilting your face upwards so that his lips could meet yours, “Not even a question.”

Before you could protest any further he was lifting you into his arms, one supporting beneath your bum, the other under your back. You took the opportunity to nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck as he stepped out of the closet with you in his arms.

No matter how hard you tried to resist it, you were no match for the rhythm caused by his walking as he carried you up to his dorm, being lulled to sleep against your own will. Not wanting to fall asleep before you could say something to him you yawned, “Thank you Georgie, made me feel so good.”

Though you couldn’t see it, a gentle smile tugged at the man’s lips as he gazed down at you, clinging to him as you snuggled further into his arms. “Anytime, love. Anytime at all.”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @kittykylax @amourtentiaa @superbturtlemakerathlete

#harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #George Weasley fanfic #George Weasley fan fiction #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n

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el-im · 3 years

Text

ok no one cares but i am once again thinking about how andrew j. robinson’s writing in a stitch in time fundamentally changed the the way i’ve come to view garak and how i interpret the “Of all the stories you told me, which ones were true and which ones weren't?” / "My dear Doctor, they're all true." / "Even the lies?" / "Especially the lies.” interaction from the wire (which initially i was very thrown off by). by suggesting that the stories garak fabricates are indicative of how he chooses to define himself, i think the stories from the wire serve specifically to illustrate what garak most covets/coveted in life, and that they contain elements of the circumstances/relationships/motivations/etc. that garak never had, or were beyond his reach. by making up these particular circumstances, garak is juxtaposing his words against the actuality of his life, and by that comparison his lies demonstrate the truth of his relationship with tain, his work in the obsidian order, and his personal convictions...

Story 1: “During the occupation, I was a Gul in the Cardassian Mechanised Infantry. We were stationed just outside the Bajoran Capital. Shortly before the withdrawal, a handful of Bajoran prisoners escaped from my custody. My aide, a man named Elim, tracked them to a Cardassian shuttle about to depart for Terok Nor. Elim got aboard, but the captain refused to let him search the ship, because he claimed he was under strict orders from Gul Dukat to depart immediately. So I had the shuttle destroyed, killing the escapees, Elim, and ninety seven Cardassian civilians... I followed my orders. None of those prisoners escaped off of Bajor alive. Unfortunately as it turned out, one of the passengers on the shuttle was the daughter of a prominent military official. I was stripped of my rank and commission, and exiled from Cardassia.”

-> what i get from this one is that garak wants a) companionship (in this “aide”, elim), b) authority (in my mind, this is more of a past item of desire. in his youth in the obsidian order, he wanted to emulate tain, and was indoctrinated to think that power should be sought after above all else, and not relinquished), and c) ruthlessness. the crowning jewel of tain’s service as the head of the obsidian order, garak grew up with detachment and brutality being demonstrated as the guiding principle of leadership, command, delegation... the funny thing about all these garak episodes, and which I am glad to see that the fandom so readily picked up on (see one of my favorite posts: “i don’t understand why ds9 fandom casts garak as some sort of suave oscar wilde daddy dom when he’s clearly the kind of older man who gets trashed at a casino at 3pm on thursdays and tips dabo boys extra to hold him while he cries”) is that for all his posturing, for all his discussion about the difference between cardassian principles and “federation dogma”, for all we actually, genuinely learn about what garak did during his time in the obsidian order (for all interested in garak’s life pre-terok nor/ds9, please take this free link and read a stitch in time it’s one of like... two trek novels i’d ever recommend and is so good i promise <3), for all we learn about what he did after (the assassination of senator vreenak “in in the pale moonlight”), garak still doesn’t... come off as hardened, or unfeeling. he repeatedly demonstrates a willingness to put himself in harm's way to save the people he cares about (most notably, bashir/martok during their time in the jem hadar prison, but even once going to cardassia to save kira, who detests/detested him (depending on if you believe their relationship changed over the course of the show) and risking arrest/execution by returning to cardassia during his exile). for all his pretending otherwise (from second skin: GARAK: “I have no intention of sacrificing my life to save yours. If it looks like we're in danger of being captured... if there are any signs of trouble at all... you're on your own. SISKO: Mister Garak, I believe that's the first completely honest thing you've ever said to me.”), Garak isn’t selfish, or at the least isn’t constantly, predictably selfish. He’s self-sacrificial more often that he’s given credit for, he’s occasionally kind. I think the first story he tells in the wire is so indicative of the inner conflict he feels. inside him is a child who was brought up to revel in the glory of violence in the middle of a military occupation of another world. there is a part of him that persists in believing strength is only fortification, obfuscation, invulnerability. and yet there is a part of him now wrestling with the belief that he can only be saved through honesty, by telling bashir about the implant and why it’s there and who he is that warrants it. one of the most remarkable things about this wholly incredible episode is this struggle between these two parts of himself.

and really, garak isn’t stubborn, or stupid. he knows if he wants to save his life (and for a moment... for some inexplicable reason, he does), he’ll have to give bashir some tipping hint. he has to tell him enough of the truth to give him a way to help him, and that’s what all these stories come down to. he is hinting as best he can. he is explaining as much as possible, so as not to betray the angry little boy inside him who sees this addiction as a weakness, who sees his attachment to bashir, and to his life on the station as a vulnerability, exploited. then there’s a second layer in which (after discovery that garak is elim) the audience gleans that garak (in his youth) desperately wanted direction, for someone to tell him what do to and how to do it--that he wanted to be excused from his actions on the basis of “following direct orders”... god, but then I think about how garak chooses to kill the figure of elim he paints here. paired with the resignation to his own fate at this point in the episode (garak knows a replacement device can’t be obtained, that his body is too reliant on the implant to function on its own, and that withdrawal without supplement will be deadly... which is to say garak is sure he is going to die), this seems so poignant. does he wish he’d have died years ago? killed in some random shoot out at the orders of someone higher up on the obsidian order’s chain of command? and can you imagine that? tain would bury the report so as to conceal his son’s involvement with the order (sentimentality always coming second to security, of course), letting this “elim garak” be listed as some citizen at the wrong place at the wrong time, a random victim of the violence of the bajoran occupation... garak, in an instant, would be forgotten. brushed aside by his father in favor of obscuring the actual operation undergone.

in the end i think the most i get from this version of the story is that subtle death wish. if he had been a less important operative, or if he had died then, he wouldn’t be enduring this now (return to the conversation about a lifetime serving cardassia re: “the neverending sacrifice” at the opening of the ep....). part of me believes garak wishes he would have died then, before he could have been exiled, before setting up his shop on the station, before meeting bashir...

garashir side note: “At first, he just wanted to have sex with him. That's absolutely clear. That's all he wanted from him. ‘Come to my shop, I got some nice clothes for you... but you'll have to change first.’ But then it really got complicated, especially when Garak's addiction and despair began to surface. He needed someone to share it with.” - Andy Robinson, from “What We Left Behind”. / “What we should've done, after The Wire in season two, the episode where Bashir helps him get over his addiction, we should've had Garak come out to Bashir as a gay Cardassian... Garak comes out as gay in season two, we have five seasons to play that Bashir and Garak relationship. Where that would have gone, who the hell knows, but it could've been so cool.” - Ira Steven Behr, from “What We Left Behind”.

Considering these two quotes from the actor who played Garak and the head writer on DS9, another thing about this episode I’m throwing my two cents in for is the obvious implications for this deepening the relationship between garak and bashir. One of the most frustrating things about this episode is how much it just begs for more, more, more. The casual banter about literature they start up at the beginning of the episode, the refusal on garak’s part of letting bashir take him the the infirmary (hello cardassian stubbornness, the whole scene reeks so much of ‘I do not want you to see me vulnerable, I want you to think me strong and independent and not in danger’. the whole charade reminds me so much of a wounded animal putting on a brave face so as to not be found out. garak does not want bashir (specifically!) to see him sick, to see him needing. he does not want to admit that he needs his help, that he needs him)...

then everything else that follows that, bashir worriedly reaching out to his friends for help and advice: talking to o’brien about his concerns for garak and asking about retrieving the cardassian medical files, then to dax, who tells him flatly “It sounds like you're taking this personally.... It's not like you two are really friends.”. the affront on bashir’s part at hearing that. “It's just that Garak and I have been having lunch together once a week for more than a year now. You'd think he'd come to trust me a little!” he exclaims. then how defeated and angry he is (violently stabbing her plant with mycorrhizae), the strong thread of bitterness humming in his honey-sweet voice, “If he doesn't want my help, that's his prerogative.”

there’s something so magnificent about the timeline here. how long they’ve known each other by now, the fact that bashir is the only person garak really considers his own on the station (“it isn’t bashir who dies, is it? Ira, you’re not going to kill off julian, are you? I mean, where does that leave me? I mean, he’s my only relationship in this show! I don’t have him, I have nothing. I’m hanging out in space with nobody to talk to!” - DS9Doc's Ira Steven Behr pushes for more DS9 in HD!)... it’s so plainly laid out that bashir is the only thing garak has, the only reason he has to be curious about what else life could bring him at this point in his life, so far from home, from his family, from the only job he ever felt he had been suited for.

which is not even to mention julian’s reaction to this first story. “So now you know, Doctor. I hope I haven't shattered too many of your illusions.” garak concludes. There is a pregnant pause of still hesitation (in which i imagine garak is reeling--because, at the same time, i think, despite this relay being an attempt to communicate his own misery, these stories are also made to push something in bashir. Garak is at the end of his rope, drifting (almost) untethered into unknown space and he is reaching out in the hope that julian, (despite, despite, despite...) will take his hand. Garak is trying to see just how far Julian will go to save him, to forgive him. He is trying to discover if there is an exception to his “federation dogma”, if there is really truth to that myth of human kindness he’d heard so much about... in this moment, Garak is playing this horrific, dangerous, loving, desperate game of cat and mouse. “Could you still love me if I...” he seems to say, and believes at some point he’ll be responded to with a “no”, but hopes, against his better judgement, beyond belief, that he wont be. And then Julian looks up at him, faces close enough for Garak to feel his steady breath on his cheeks as he says, calmly, “Listen to me, Garak. Right now I'm not concerned with what you did in the past. I'm simply not going to walk out of here and let you die. We need to turn that implant off and whatever withdrawal symptoms or side effects you may experience, I promise I'll help you through them. I need to know where that triggering device is. Where is it?”

And that line is it for me, beyond so much of the other golden ones in this episode. This is the first time that Garak hears that unequivocal acceptance, and it just sends him staggering. In all his life, he’s never been faced with love like that. His father pushed him away, let him believe for years that he wasn’t his son. Mila didn’t, or couldn’t, or wouldn’t put up a fight for him when Tain exiled him...

this is one moment in ds9 where i am particularly grateful for ds9 being filmed on a 4:3 aspect ratio that forced characters so close together to be in a shot. in this scene, a line from Shauna Barbosa’s “GPS”, Cape Verdean Blues comes back to me, and I look at the pair of them so close on the screen, Julian so open and Garak so agast, and I just think, “You kiss the back of my legs and I want to cry. Only / the sun has come this close, only the sun.”

all is to say: andy robinson himself has said that bashir is the only relationship garak has. assuming garak’s killing of elim in this first story is indicative of his own wish that he might have died during his work with the obsidian order (and thus been spared exile, the torture of life on the station, the gradual dependency he forged on the implant, and the inevitable withdrawal he was going to experience), there necessitates a question of why garak should agree to treatment (thus saving his life) only to continue living on a station he found so hellish in the past*

*oh... the magnificent (perfectly summative) conversation between Tain and Bashir... “BASHIR: He's dying. TAIN: And you're trying to save him. BASHIR: That's right. TAIN: Strange. I thought you were his friend. BASHIR: I suppose I am. TAIN: Then you should let him die. After all, for Garak, a life in exile is no life at all.”

to me, this question has three answers: 1. he is appeasing an insistent julian (though this begets the suggestion that garak doesn’t have much faith in julian’s treating him--in which case, garak decides that one of his last acts in life will be making julian happy) 2. he is choosing to live because he is... intrigued by julian. because he likes his company and the meals they share and the books they trade... and because he is curious to see where this relationship will go. Julian has made his life bearable (dare I say enjoyable? see: “GARAK: [They] left me to live out my days with nothing to look forward to but having lunch with you. BASHIR: I'm sorry you feel that way. I thought you enjoyed my company. GARAK: I did. And that's the worst part. I can't believe that I actually enjoyed eating mediocre food and staring into at your smug, sanctimonious face. ”) and has thus given him some reason to get up in the morning, even if it is for a frivolous little lunch appointment in another few days or 3. he is choosing to live not for julian, but directly because of him. even if this relationship has a platonic reading, it can’t be denied that julian opened up a new world for garak, and if nothing else was able to stay his boredom/disgust with life on the station

Story 2: GARAK: There was a time, Doctor, oh there was a time when I was a power. The protégé of Enabran Tain himself. Do you have any idea what that means?... Tain was the Obsidian Order. Not even the Central Command dared challenge him. And I was his right hand. My future was limitless until I threw it away. BASHIR: You mean when you had that shuttle shot down to stop those prisoners from escaping? GARAK: Stop them? I only wish that I had stopped them. BASHIR: You didn't? GARAK: No, Doctor, my disgrace was worse than that. Unimaginably worse. BASHIR: What could you have possibly done worse than that? GARAK: I let them go. It was the eve of the Cardassian withdrawal. Elim and I were interrogating five Bajorans. They were children, Doctor. None of them were older than fourteen years old. They knew nothing. They lived in bombed-out rooms, scrounged for food on the streets. They were filthy and they stank. The room was freezing cold, the air was like ice, and suddenly the whole exercise seemed utterly meaningless. All I wanted was a hot bath and a good meal. So I let them go. I gave them whatever latinum I had in my pockets, and opened the door, and flung them back into the street. Elim couldn't believe his eyes. He looked at me as if I were insane.”

-> from this version of the story there’s a much clearer division between the elim garak (a young agent of the obsidian order baptized in fire) he was in his youth and the elim garak he is now (a disgraced former agent, exiled, alone save for one ambitious, self assured federation doctor). this, i think, seems to show the separation between what this character “elim” (young garak) wanted: which was uncompromising brutality and dedication to his work, and what present garak wants: peace, a full belly, the ability to be charitable (specifically to young, hungry bajorans)...

this story to me is one that best places this contemporary incarnation of garak relative to his bajoran counterparts on the station. in the beginning of this episode, when telling bashir why he initially chose to activate the implant, he speaks about how he, as the only cardassian living on ds9, is viewed by the bajorans living there. (“Living on this station is torture for me, Doctor. The temperature is always too cold, the lights always too bright. Every Bajoran on the station looks at me with loathing and contempt.”) In this story, by releasing the children and giving them the latinum he had, he’s trying to repent to Julian, asking to be forgiven for the part he played in the occupation of bajor by showing that he was/is (depending on how you view the timeline of the progression of his attitudes) sympathetic to them, and that he regrets the hand he had in bringing war, famine, and subjugation to them.

Story 3: “GARAK: Elim wasn't my aide. He was my friend. We grew up together. We were closer than brothers. For some reason, Enabran Tain took a liking to us. Before long, we were both powerful men in the Obsidian Order. They called us the Sons of Tain. Even the Guls feared us. And then there was a scandal. Someone in the Order was accused of letting some Bajoran prisoners escape. There were constant rumours of who was going to be implicated. Fingers were being pointed at me. By then Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn't protect me, so I panicked. I did everything in my power to make sure that Elim was accused instead of me. I altered records, planted evidence, only to discover that he'd beaten me to it. BASHIR: He betrayed you first? GARAK: Elim destroyed me. Before I knew what was going on, I was sentenced to exile. And the irony is, I deserved it. Oh, not for the reasons they claimed, but because of what I had tried to do to Elim, my best friend.”

-> whenever I think back to this, my first impression remains that this is one of the stories where Bashir is considered. At this point, Garak’s been transferred from his room to the infirmary. Despite turning the implant off, toxins are continuing to accumulate in his lymphatic systems. He’s been sad (even woke bashir up with his weeping), he’s been angry (destroyed the vase and flipped the desk in his room, attacked bashir...), and now he’s calm, and tired. He thinks this is the end. He refuses to have the implant turned back on, which nurse jabara estimates might give him another week to live. This is the end of the line for him, and he’s accepting it with dignity and grace. He goes to release Bashir from his obligation to him “you’re done enough, Doctor. More than I deserve...” and goes to tell Bashir “the truth”. To me, this is his goodbye. Even if it isn’t a true story, this is the gift he’s giving Bashir. This is what he (spinner of wonderful lies, obfuscating agent of the despicable obsidian order) can give him as a parting gift--it is what he wants him to have.

in this story, Garak is not friendless, as he is on the station. He has a close relationship with someone (’see, then, doctor?’ he seems to ask playfully, life sputtering out of his eyes. ‘i am capable of it!’)... and yet, there is also betrayal. It reminds me of an assurance, in a way. “Bashir,” he seems to say, the entire weight of all the good doctor’s efforts to save him pressing down on his every word, “look what might have come to you had I allowed you to care for me. There is only danger for you to find in me.” In this, Elim stands in place of Bashir. A steadfast friend who Garak works against for the sake of self preservation. In this moment, Garak is pleading with the man standing above him next to the biobed. He is insisting Bashir be grateful for the shallowness of their relationship (something I Garak ensured deliberately), and telling him that, though he is grateful for him, that if they had been closer, Garak would only have caused him pain.

The heart of this story is Garak’s appraisal of his own self worth. Regardless of how much he’s changed since his time in the order, he persists in thinking he functions in the world to cause harm, much so that it is the only thing he’s able to do. Garak sees himself as the knife in the backs of others, or the hand raised, dagger in clutch.

the second thing i see is contained wholly within the line: “By then Tain had retired to the Arawath Colony. He couldn't protect me, so I panicked.” aside from assurances made to bashir, i think the purpose of this speech is to demonstrate (in the fashion of the lies being true) that garak wanted, and still wants safety. he wanted someone (Tain) to come to his defense then. while this extends to the implication that garak wanted tain, as his father, to stand up for him out of pride, or love, or even a perfunctory sense of parental commitment rather than exile him (a recurring desire illustrates/suggested in the show/books), i also think its perfectly suited to the care julian is exhibiting in tending to him in this episode. for all garak’s refusal to acknowledge his pain (a mere headache, as he claimed when they stood outside the replimat), for all his refusal to go to the infirmary when they meet at quark’s later, the care julian is constantly exhibiting through this episode is what garak is most endeared by. it is the thing he wanted most in his youth, and the thing now (because it was denied to him then) he finds so difficult to accept. there are many (many) instances throughout the show of garak and bashir talking about the extension of federation help/kindness, and this being something bashir embodies, btu this is one of the illustrations that sticks with me because of its particular placement. In the story, Garak wanted protection. He was alone, and afraid, and wanted help. As it now stands, he is not alone, he is calm, and has help. That is perhaps the most startling revelation for him of all.

and last but not least another... intriguing part of all garak’s stories is his repeated separation of himself and elim. the illusion of separation is one of the most intriguing (and heartbreaking) aspects of these story to me. garak has always struck me as the kind of character who sees grief and regret as an impetus for amputation. he believes what is unpleasant or unnecessary about him he can cut off and live through. he believes he can build up a wall between himself and what he doesn’t want to see or experience without repercussion (this being why he activated the implant in the first place). by making elim and himself two separate people he is not only distancing himself from whatever it was he really did, thus taking responsibility for it in part and allowing the other half of himself turn away in disgust and without sympathy, but suggesting that he cannot be culpable entirely for what it was he did. in each of his stories, the blame is to be shared, divided. the hardest part of all of this to swallow is that even after all this time, he’s begging for someone to spare him of the crushing loneliness of disgrace, begging for someone to understand fully what he’s done, accept him, and shoulder a part of his burden, much so that he creates an entirely new incarnation of himself just to sit with him in hell.

anyway ive also been fucking around on memory alpha and this was intriguing to me so im putting it here:

"When I was writing the story," stated Robert Hewitt Wolfe, "the movie Schindler's List had just come out and Ira was saying, 'Maybe he was Schindler; maybe he was the guy who let the prisoners go.' And then it was, 'Maybe he wasn't; maybe he was the Butcher of Budapest.' So we just kept telling all these lies, and I think the truth lies somewhere in there. Maybe he did let people go. Maybe he did shoot down the ship. Who knows?" (Star Trek: Deep Space Nine Companion (p. 141))

#trek #elim garak #sorry for longposting but once again i am thinking about him (garak)#he's just such a fantastic character that i read SO MUCH into #its a shame they didnt do more w him really im upset he wasnt as cherished by fans when the show was in production as he obviously is now #also. reminds me why i have this url #he's deeply fascinating and i love him and hate him and sympathize with him and think hes unforgivable and i ....#ANYWAY i am not even going to talk about the . hand holding 'i forgive you... for whatever it is you did' thing because that opens a BREACH #this is one of the longest posts ive ever written on this god awful site #anyway it is from the heart #i love him so much and i love this episode.

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sibsteria · 3 years

Text

hallelujah [jack kline]

prompts: ''please, don't stop'', ''I love it when you kiss my neck'', ''you want to have sex with me?''

summary: first time with jack

characters: Jack Kline, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) Castiel

warning: smut, fluff, first time awkwardness, tooth rotting reassurance fluff, literal filth

---

The atmosphere was light and solacing, the subtle tenderness of his fingers soothed my restless arms, as they danced across my skin with such delicacy. His hands left tingles, igniting a fire that spread across me, shivers took their toll up and down my body.

I looked up to his angelic face, to be greeted with a toothy grin, as his eyes settled on my relaxed frame. If my heart did stutter as much as it did metaphorically, I'd be six feet under from the day I met him. I lay cradled between his legs, my head against his chest, as my body was positioned on it's side. Feeling the soft inhales and exhales coming from the soft boy below me had lulled me into such a confined sense of security, his warmth enveloping me as I revelled.

The remainder of TFW had business elsewhere, so this left me and my chosen soulmate in the confines of the Men of Letters abode. If soulmates were a thing, Jack and I could be labelled as a prime example. I mindlessly fiddled with the folds of his jacket as we found comfort on the sofa, his hand that was currently grazing my arm had moved up to repeat a stroking movement in my hair. I hummed as the sensation of him running his fingers through my hair was a well-found favourite feeling of mine.

Each time he accidentally tangled his fingers within strands of my hair, creating a soft tug, would create a fiery pit in my stomach.

''Y/n...I need to-'' He paused for a moment, ''-ask you something?'' he had ended his sentence as if it were a question to himself as well, unsure of his words. His words were communicated in a shaky manner and he was biting his lip, he only did that when he was nervous.

I sat myself up and he followed suit, I sensed the seriousness of the situation and reached forward to clasp his hands in mine.

''Are you okay? Is something wrong?'' I let my tone remain calm yet my head was spinning with questions.

''N-No, nothing's wrong, I just-'' He swallows hard, his eyes can't seem to reach mine, so I cup his cheek which is red and warm.

''Whatever it is, you know you can say anything to me, I'm the last person to ever hurt you.'' I turned his jaw, carefully and lightly, so his eyes were looking into mine.

''I was, uh...speaking to Dean last week and he was teaching me about...pornography?'' I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes widened a small amount.

''What did he say? I swear to Chuck if he said anything ba-''

''He said that, everything that went in in those...videos, were fake and that you should only repeat what they were doing with someone you love.'' My heart softened for the elder Winchester, who knew under that tough exterior that he knew the right things after all.

''Did he tell you what it was they were doing?'' I tilted my head as he continued to recite his conversation.

''I had read and learned about intercourse before but, saw no need for the knowledge. Until now.'' I dropped my jaw, no way, he doesn't mean- ''I would like to try it with you.'' He smiles wide and it makes my heart drum like a Metallica canticle.

''You want to have sex with me?'' I couldn't hide the awe and blush of the features of my face that betrayed me. ''Are you sure? No one is pushing you to do this, are they?'' I search his eyes for any uncertainty but find no evidence.

''I'm sure, because I love you, no one has told me to do anything. I really love you.'' The sincerity and sureness in his voice- I could pass out, if people's hearts can shrink from hate then my heart was exploding from love and affection.

''I love you too, Jack, when do you want to-'' I couldn't find the words I was searching for, but he took the hint.

''I-I would like to try now? If that's okay, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to.'' His eyebrows pursed in genuine concern, how could anyone ever say no to him?

''Of course, I would do anything for you- with you, Jack. I'd give my life for you, if the situation desired it.'' I could see the tears glaze over his cerulean stars that guarded his gaze.

''I could never ask you for that, I'd never let you do that.'' He pulled me into his strong cherish, his arms embracing me in a lax yet wistful capture. My heart was crying out to him, craving his everything, beseeching him as a whole. But not in a sexual way, in an amorous pining way.

''I love you more than I have anything, more than I will love anything.'' I voiced, looking into his azure allure as he beamed down at me.

''I love you.'' That was all he needed to declare before I pushed forward, seizing his ductile lips with mine, moving with a fervour that could shake the building. His delighted trill that vibrated against my mouth was a sound worth the world, every nerve in my chassis felt electric, with the passionate epicentre in the deep of my stomach. What were once innocent butterflies, felt like raging hawks in the depths of this tension.

His docile nature is an adverse contrast to the cruelty of most men I have met, the sensation of his padded fingers drifting across my skin as if they belonged there, was dynamizing.

I decided that I would take direction, seeing as I have prior experience. As our lips remained deep into a passionate lock, which could taunt the most enlightened of couples.

I lightly shifted him on to his back, moving his to lie onto the sofa, as I sat in the space in front of himself. I broke our connection to press small and sighted kisses the the outline of his jaw, he breathes out what I guess he was holding, with a small profound noise. I moved my kisses across his jaw until I reach the corner.

''Are we going to?- Y'know-'' I could pin-point his struggle so I decided to answer for him.

''Yeah, are you sure you want this? None of this matters to me as long as I have you.'' I felt his reaction before I heard it.

''Oh-I'm sure, if this is any part of it, I can't wait.'' What did I do to deserve this jewel of a soul.

I lifted my leg to straddle over his lap, almost as if instinct, his hands found the safety of my hips. I felt my eyes becoming heavy with lustful dilation as I inclined my head down to re-animate my lips with his in another searing kiss. We had kissed before, a lot, but nothing could compare to right now.

I seated myself down more, pressing myself against his lap, lighter than air. I didn't want to push him right of the bat.

His careful touch trailed up the side of my back, whilst one hand remained where it lay. His lips moved so fast, it was hard to keep up, I changed my approach. I continued down the road of gentle jaw pecks and moved down towards his neck, which was high in temperature. I added the aspect of pulling his skin through my lips and teeth with pleasurable suction, creating a small purple mark on neck which disappeared a few moments after. This was the first time he let out a fully fledged moan and his hips involuntarily bucked up to press against me. My breath hitched and through impulse I ground down on him harder.

''I love it when you kiss my neck, gah-'' He let out another strangled moan as I returned my focus to his neck, his crotch pushed up once again and connected against mine.

''Oh- can you do that again?'' His voice was hardly there as I felt him getting hard.

I listened to his plea and grinded myself down onto him, this time, I didn't stop. His hand gripped my hip, but he had trouble holding on.

''Here- this might be easier to hold on to.'' I guided his hands down towards the skin below my ass, which connected to my thigh. He grappled onto it and I sucked in air between my teeth, biting on my tongue, although it wasn't pain.

''Sorry! Did I hurt you?'' His frantic apology reminded my that I was the first person teaching him how to copulate.

''N-No, felt good, you can do that as much as you like.'' I edged him on, he nodded and gripped me again, this time moving onto my ass and I lurched my front forward. Burying my head into his neck, I whimpered.

''How did you know to-'' I couldn't answer as he spoke before I could finished,

''I guessed, was that right?'' He had a hopeful look in his eyes which almost made me cry out.

''So, so right. You're doing everything right.'' I moaned against his ear, taking in his ear lobe, nipping at it. His other hand which rested on my back had moved down to cup the other side of my ass, mirroring the other. He pushed my hips down to meet his, impatiently, he really couldn't wait. I can tell already he has an extreme praise kink. I slid my hips across, driving against his cock. He bucks again, fast and sure.

Today was a good day to wear a skirt.

His length was solid and craving release, his lips found my neck, as mine had once found his. He copied what I had done, nipping and sucking at the skin, but this time it would mark. I whined out in frustration.

His hips coiled up faster, stuttering as he came, unexpectedly. Holy motherfucking shit. He called out my name in shattered cries, clasping at any part of me he could. His eyes were screwed as he experienced sexual fulfilment. shut He stopped for a moment after he peaked, I kissed his forehead and his nose as he smiled up at me in awe.

''Was-Was that?'' He searched for the words but couldn't find them.

''You had an orgasm, and I'm guessing your first. I'm also guessing you liked it.'' I heaved an amused exhale, he had no idea how hot he was in this second, he sat up to take his jacket off as I rested on his lap still.

''Did it feel like that for you?'' I could see the wishing in his sky shaded eyes.

''Not yet, but this is about you, we don't need to carry on-'' I stopped my sentence as I felt him grow once again beneath me.

''No refractory interval, huh.'' I whispered to myself in shock.

''In-In the video, the people didn't have clothes on, is that normal. And I didn't put my-'' I stopped him before I could blush any further.

''Uh yeah it's normal don't worry! You just had an orgasm from grinding your- self against me. We haven't had sex yet.'' I brushed the hair from his forehead, which stuck to him because of the cold sweat lacing his skin.

''Can-Can we? Now?'' His hot, pink, cheeks blaring against the sunlight, beautiful as he begged. I couldn't refuse him. His breathing was normal and fluid now, seemingly recovered completely.

''If you really can't wait any longer.'' I cupped his face, kissing him once again, rolling my hips down onto his. He was impossibly hard. I moaned again, slipping my hands under his shirt brushing against his untouched body.

He still remained sat up as I pulled of his shirt, his chest had a small redness across it from the heat, fucking beautiful.

I reached down to grab the hems of my shirt when his hand stopped me.

''Can I?'' Jack's curious eyes bounced between mine and my shirt.

''Go ahead.'' I shuffle back from his lap, still straddling him. His fingers find the end of my shirt and slowly pull it up, revealing my good bra thank the lord- actually no, let's not thank him.

''If it's okay with you, I'll take care of this part, it can be tricky.'' I motion to my black, lacy garment and he mumbles an 'okay'.

I reach behind myself, taking a breath before I unclasp the back, pulling off the straps and letting it fall to the floor. I go to cover myself but Jack restricts me, his head moves in confusion.

''Don't do that, I want to see you.'' His declare makes my head reel.

''I'm sorry that I can't be more than this for you.'' I remove my arms from my chest as he holds my hands.

''Why would you want to be? This is you, and as I once head Dean say-'' I inwardly cringe at his name being used in this situation. ''I think the word breath-taking describes you.'' His still-sitting form moved forward so his head can near towards me, his eyes watch me closely before leaning down. He presses soft and sweet kisses to each bust of my chest, I groan out in pleasure, but not physically. The emotional heaviness of the moment is what makes me cry out, how could one person love another so immensely.

''I love you. And that means all of you.'' I shut my eyes in impassioned heaven.

''I love you too.'' I kissed him before I left the warmth of his lip, he whined before I could speak.

''We need to take the rest of our...clothes off.'' I bit my lip and looked off to the side in blushing attraction.

''O-Oh!'' He seems to excite at this and eagerly unbuttons his jeans, unzipping before ultimately dropping them completely. ''Should I take my underwear off also?'' He questions me. His briefs are soaked from his previous settlement and I long to wonder what it would feel like to have him in my mouth, that would have to wait.

''If you'd allow me-'' I step towards him, slowly reaching for his clothed crotch, he nods in affirmation. I hook my fingers around the sides of his briefs, kissing his shoulder and chest as I start to pull them off. He kicks them from himself once they reach a certain point and points towards my skirt.

''Can I take it off?'' I nod and smile at him.

''You can do anything you want, anything.'' I say, a sincere and truthful confession.

He kneels below me, looking up with an innocent yet ruined look in his eyes. Pressing small kisses to my stomach and thighs as he pulls down my skirt along with my underwear in one swift action. I didn't feel a need to be nervous with him anymore, letting my body do the talking instead of words I led him back towards the couch, which up until this point remained un-christened. That was about to change.

''In the video, the man puts his mouth on her...lower area.'' He whispers in thought as he sat on the couch.

''That's not important right now, we can explore that later. Right now, I just want you to feel the peak of physical affection.'' He gives me one of his toothy smiles again and I can't help but stare at him with adoration in my eyes before we resume the position we were previously in.

I straddled him with no effort and took his impressive length in my hand. He gripped the couch and moaned lowly as I worked him up and down a few times, spreading the leaking pre-cum.

''You ready?'' I lean down, kissing his nose, fondly.

''Yes, really ready.'' He breathes out, I prod my entrance with the tip of him, sliding it in slightly.

He let out fast paced breathy groans as I slid down onto his firm cock. I'm in no way a virgin, but it's been a while.

He moves his hands my my waist, his nails dig into me, I moan.

''I'm not hurti-'' I answer him before he could finish.

''Definitely not hurting me.'' I sigh in pleasure, down his ear as I hunch over.

''I'm gonna move now.'' I mumble, he doesn't know what's coming to him.

I lift up my hips until I reach the tip of his cock before lightly slamming back down, his hands slide down to clutch the skin on the side of my thighs.

''Do-Do that again.'' He groans.

''I'll do more than that.'' There was no need to hold back, I slid myself up again and repeated the motion, setting a steady momentum. His hips snapped up to meet mine as I bounced with no shame.

''Oh, please, don't stop.'' He rushed out, trying to set a faster pace as he snaps up with impatience.

''Jack, you wanna- try being in- control?'' I attempt to communicate through breathy laments.

''Yes, please.'' I stop sinking my hips for a moment whilst I slowly try to transfer my body weight to beneath him. He gets the gist and helps to flip us over, carefully.

''Don't hold back, you don't need to be gentle.'' I brush a hand through his hair so it's out of his face before an unexpected thrust knocks the air out of me. He doesn't waste time, pushing himself to the brink of speed, I struggle to find somewhere to anchor my hands and I settle for one against his shoulder blade and the other in his hair.

With the relentless pounding and merciless fucking of his hips, I felt blissful thrill that I had never felt before, I couldn't help the tug of his hair that pulls between my fingers. He wails out, I panic and try to apologise.

''Sorry, fuck! Did that hur-'' He snaps into me with more meaning than ever, it's ruthless and hot.

''Do it again.'' He begs into my ear, his voice wavering. I do as he says and pull against his hair, he whines, biting down into my neck.

''Fuck, Jack!'' I cry as his pelvic bone creates intoxicating friction against my swollen clit, he's balls deep and no where near stopping.

''Are you sure you haven't done this before?'' I grip at the skin on his shoulder blade and he grouses in pleasure.

''Never, you're the only person I'd ever do this with, I love you.'' He grunts our as his cock remains a punishing and brutal pace. The sound of his voice saying 'I love you' in such an intimate moment makes me orgasm on the spot, I came hard and with a recoil I stutter my hips to try and match his, failing at the objective. I moan out his name as I grip onto his hair, the hardest I have.

''Jack!'' He pounds impossibly faster as my walls clench around him, begging him to let go, and he does. With a chorus of strangled moans, and stammered whines, he came. He gives a few more ruts before collapsing his head against my chest, leaving kisses up my neck.

I feel my body give up, refusing to move, refusing to breathe.

''O-oh, wo-wow. Woah.'' Jack grins with astonishment.

''I know, Jack. That was- especially with you- and-'' I give up on words.

''I want to do that all the time.'' He let out a throaty laugh, but I knew he was completely serious.

''We can, maybe not all the time but- when it doesn't inconvenience the others.'' It rings in my head for a moment before I realise.

''Shit! The guys will be back soon, grab your clothes.'' I usher him to hurry up and I grab mine as well, stammering along to my room with whatever working muscles I had left. As soon as I shut my door, I felt the front one open. Close call.

I breathe out in relief.

''What the fuck?'' I hear from outside.

''Uh, Y/n?'' I looked towards a blushing Jack. ''I forgot to pick something up.'' He drops his clothing and I realise we are missing his briefs. Oh, fuck.

''What the fuck is this?'' Ah yes, that would be your adopted sons cum-stained underwear, Dean.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural #jack kline #jack kline imagine #jack kline x reader #jack kline smut #jack kline imagines

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late-to-the-party-81 · 2 years

Text

Checkmate Ch20

AN: Apologies that I didn't post this at the beginning of the week like normal. Life has been kicking me. That aside, we're almost at the end of this wild ride.

This series is un-Beta'd. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Mood-board by me but photo credits to those who wrote them.

Series Master list | Chapter 19

CW: Domesticity, Smut (brief and minor), Swearing, Angst, Gross overuse of pet names, Coming out, Genderfluid Loki, Lady Loki.

Word count: 2.8k

Val and Lisa came over to her, the former bristling with anger, the latter looking confused and full of worry.

“What happened?” Val asked. “We found your dress in the staff room this morning, but the door lock was busted and there was no sign of either of you.”

Whilst she was talking to Chess, her eyes were on Loki, where the healers were removing his clothes and checking over his injuries, despite his protestations.

“Talk to me whilst I shower? Is that okay? – I desperately need to wash.”

Val nodded and trotted behind Chess into the bathroom. Lisa, followed, her fingers intertwined with Val’s. Perching on the closed seat of the toilet, Chess pulled off the grey leather boots she was wearing, before starting on the various laces of the trousers and tunic. She’d never helped Loki out of his version before, and she saw a small smirk on Val’s face as she struggled.

“Here, let me help” and then she was leaning across and deftly undoing the tight leather thongs holding the clothing together.

“You get used to it after a while, but I have to admit that zips are a revelation. A wonder of Midgardian technology.”

Feeling comfortable in front of her friends, who it was obvious only really had eyes for each other, she shed the linen undershirt and her underwear before walking into the shower stall. Setting the temperature and water pressure, she allowed herself a few minutes to herself as the water cascaded over her. Val took up the seat on the closed toilet, before pulling Lisa down onto her lap, wrapping her arms around the blonde’s middle.

“Okay, my new Valkyrie sister, spill it!”

So, Chess went through what happened, how they must have been drugged after, ahem, having some alone time together in the staff room (Lisa chuckled at that), before she woke up in the basement of the warehouse to find Loki being tortured. She was glad that she had already told Val about the origin of her necklace, so she didn’t have to explain that to her, but knew she owed Lisa a fuller explanation later.

She found it hard to put into words about how her rage had overtaken her as the power held in the stone was released and settled into her. She was also glad that the steam and condensation on the shower screen door meant she couldn’t see Lisa’s face as she explained how she had killed and maimed those who had captured them.

She didn’t mention how euphoric she had felt afterwards, and how arousing it had been to fight alongside Loki. She shut off the water, and as she opened the cubicle door Lisa passed her a thick robe and a towel for her hair. After belting the robe around herself, Chess pulled her friend into a fierce hug. Val smiled at them and left the bathroom to check on Loki.

“I know this is all a bit weird Lees, but I swear I will explain it all to you better tomorrow, okay?”

“I’m just glad you are alright. I was so worried when Bee couldn’t find you.”

Chess raised an eyebrow and Lisa blushed.

“Bee, huh? You two have a good night then, you know, before you guys realised we were missing?”

She chuckled at how, somehow, Lisa turned even redder.

“God, Chess, the woman is soooo damn good, and hot and well, everything.”

“Right, tomorrow, after I’ve recovered, we are going to sit down and have a good gossip, okay. But right now I need to go check on my man, and you, it seems need to go be with your lady.”

The two friends walked arm in arm out of the bathroom, smiling and content.

Loki lay on the bed, under the (obviously green) sheet, with his eyes closed. The healers were packing up their supplies, whilst Val quizzed them on the health of their patient.

“I am right here Val, you can ask me, you know. I’m resting, not dead.”

A knock on the door interrupted the inevitable snarky conversation. Chess opened it, and a member of Val’s staff walked in pushing a food cart. Bottles of water and energy drinks covered the lower shelf, and the top contained a selection of different sandwiches and fruit. Chess’s stomach growled embarrassingly but Val chuckled as she herded everyone out of the room. The door closed with a click and Chess almost launched herself at the door to turn the lock.

“Thank fuck they’ve all gone” she said before popping a couple of the water bottles into the pockets of her robe, picking up the plate of sandwiches and moving over to the bed.

Loki pushed himself up against the headboard, and took the plate from her as she settled down comfortable beside him, albeit on top of the covers. He rested the plate on his knees and she passed him one of the bottles. She rested her head on his shoulder as they both ate. They were tired, but also ravenous, having not eaten anything for over 24 hours.

Once the plate was clear, Chess reluctantly got off the bed to place the empty bottles and plate back on the cart. She took the towel from her hair and hung it back in the bathroom. Loosening the robe, she realised she had nothing to wear. As if he could hear her thoughts, she heard Loki call out.

“Go into the second drawer of the dresser, I have some Midgardian t-shirts in there. Also, there is a comb in the top drawer of the vanity. Bring it here and I will help with your hair.”

Hanging up the robe, she returned to the main room before rifling through the drawer.

“I am supposed to be resting, ildflue, but I won’t be able to unless you find something to cover yourself very quickly.”

She smirked at him over her shoulder, before pulling out an emerald green t-shirt and slipping it over her head. Discovering that, although it was big on her, it didn’t quite cover everything, she opened the top drawer, betting on it being underwear. Pulling out a pair of boxer briefs, she slipped them on, although they were slightly baggy and barely clung to her hips. She hear a groan coming from the bed.

“Norns, I don’t think that is any better!”

She giggled at his statement, but retrieved the comb before returning to the bed. She slid under the top sheet, but turned her back to him, passing him the wide-toothed comb. She relaxed as he slowly worked through the knots, as he had done on previous occasions, humming to himself.

When he finished, he placed the comb on the bedside table and they both slid down the bed. Chess felt Loki draw her back to his chest and he nuzzled his head into her still damp hair. Her legs slotted against his and she could feel the bandages wrapped around the cuts on his thighs and calves. She grasped the hand around her waist and pulled it up to lie between her breasts, against her heart, her fingers closing over the top of his to hold it in place.

“I was so scared Loki. When I first woke up and saw you. Saw what they were doing to you.”

She could feel all her emotions trying to slide out from behind the wall she had placed them all those hours ago. Tears pricked at her eyes.

“Shhh, little one. You saved me, you saved us both. You are strong and brave and I love you.”

He pulled his hand from her gripped and encouraged her to turn and face him. He brushed her tears away with his thumb, before dropping his head down to kiss at the lingering salty wetness on her cheeks.

“I love you too Loki.”

He kissed her mouth then, slow and languidly. It would have been easy to let their passions take over, but they both needed rest. He kissed her until he felt her relax in his arms, before pulling his mouth away. As he tucked her head under his chin, her leg moved to cover his and his arm pulled her tighter to him. A wave of his hands and the lights turned off and they settled into slumber.

Chess woke the next morning to the feeling of Loki lying between her thighs, pressing small kisses to the soft flesh near her core. She snaked a hand down to tangle in his hair, silently giving him permission to continue his ministrations. He brought her softly and slowly to her peak, before sliding up her body, and continued to claim her languidly with his mouth and cock, until she cried out from under him a second time and she felt him shuddering into her body.

By silent mutual agreement, they showered separately, and when Chess came out from the bathroom, Loki was dressed, in a Midgardian style of black slacks and green turtleneck. He was just closing the door to his apartment, having taken delivery of a new food cart, this time containing a selection of fruits, pastries and yoghurts, along with a large pot of coffee. Chess groaned in frustration when she realised, once again, that she had no clothes. Loki chuckled.

“You are making a habit of this, little one.”

He moved to stand behind her, head on her shoulder and arms wrapped around her, over the fluffy bathrobe.

“I’m going to start to think that you just enjoy being naked in my company. Although, the idea of you barefoot and pregnant is quite appealing.”

He laughed again as she stuck her tongue out at him and elbowed him in the ribs. But he waved his hands and she found herself dressed in some casual gym clothes. She looked at him, somewhat confused, but he explained.

“I thought we could go down to the gym and test your strength and stamina. And I will ask someone to bring a selection of clothes up to here, so you have a choice when we get back.”

He started to walk towards the door, and then stopped, slightly unsure of himself.

“Erm, if that’s okay with you? I just realised I was ordering and not asking.”

He was rewarded with a sweet smile and she embraced him.

“You should know by now, that if I disagree with you, I’ll tell you. I’m not one to stay silent.”

“Don’t I know it,” and he chuckled at her unintended double entendre until she playfully huffed at him and they left the apartment to head to the gym.

After about an hour and half in the gym, Chess called a halt.

“I think it’s safe to say,” she panted, “that I am significantly stronger than I was before.”

Her body was dripping with sweat as Loki had taken on the role of a personal trainer, seeing how fast she could run on the treadmill and how much she could press with her legs and arms.

“But we already knew that.”

“Ah, but darling, now we have a base line. It will be interesting to see, if you want, how much stronger you can become if you train. How much faster you can make those reflexes. When Thor returns from gallivanting around the galaxy, I have a mind to not tell him about your power and surprise him somehow.”

He grinned, and Chess got a small insight as to how he must have teased his brother as a child.

“Maybe, when you meet him you could lift him up, or challenge him to an arm wrestle. It would be hilarious to see his face. I also think it could be interesting to see you square off against Val.”

“Well I don’t think we will be able to get hold of her for any great length of time at the moment. Did you notice her and Lisa at the party and last night in your room? I obviously don’t know Val well, but Lisa is smitten – has been since the moment Val walked through my door. It’s adorable really. Normally she's really outgoing, a real dominant personality, but since she met Val she seems content to just follow where she leads, shy even. I can’t wait to tease her about it when we speak later.”

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“She has teased me mercilessly about you on and off over the last few months. I call it retribution.”

“If I didn’t already know you were perfect for me, Francesca, I’d know now.”

He pressed a kiss to her upturned mouth and they walked out of the gym hand in hand.

They walked along the corridors that lead from the gym housed inside the apartment block, where Loki’s suite was situated. Their hands were again intertwined, Loki doing his usual of rubbing his thumb over the inside of Chess’s wrist. His touch was always delicate, but whenever he did it, it made her shiver with want.

She’d never experienced this level of desire or had sex this often in any previous relationship. She’d never had a lover who’d cared about her pleasure more than his before either. It was intoxicating and addictive. And despite the fact that he had already made her come twice this morning, just thinking of his ability to have her gasping and moaning with just a few touches sparked her arousal once again.

Usually she was content for Loki to take the lead in their lovemaking, but every so often, she liked to be in charge. And he always let her when the mood took her; he seemed to find her dominance very arousing.

By the time they got to door, her mind was buzzing and her underwear was distinctly damp. She cast a look at him from under her lashes and could see he was apparently deep in thought. They entered the apartment, and when Loki went to sit on the couch, Chess followed him over and straddled his thighs, her arms over his shoulders.

“Penny for them, lover?”

She leant closer, pulling down the neckline of his top and mouthed up the smooth column of his throat.

“Aaah, you are in that mood, little one.”

Chess hummed in response, before drawing back, taking hold of the hem of his turtleneck and quickly pulling it up and over his head. Throwing the fabric away from them she ran her hands up his chest, rubbing her palms over his small, pale nipples. He gasped, but quickly placed his hands on her wrists, stilling her movement.

“I wanted to ask you something, ildflue, but it’s entirely up to you.”

He stopped for a moment, suddenly seeming a bit shy.

“Talking about Val and Lisa got me thinking. Did you know that one of my other skills is changing my form? I can copy another person’s shape, but also I can be me, but just….different. Female. I wondered if that would be something you might be interested in? I mean, sometimes I get the urge to indulge my other side, but, I can keep it out of the bedroom if you’d pre…”

Chess silenced him with a fierce kiss.

“Loki, I love you. Every part of you I’ve seen so far. And I want to know all of you, want you to be comfortable to be you. I’ve never been with a woman before. I don’t know if it is something I will like or not. But I won’t know until I try. And if it isn’t for me, it doesn’t mean you can’t be who you want to be at other times. Did you want to show me now?”

She looked into his eyes and only the faintest ring of blue-green surrounded his, now large, black pupils. He swallowed thickly and nodded, so Chess moved off his lap to sit on the couch.

Loki stood, removing his slacks, shoes and socks, standing only in his black briefs. She’d never seen him look so shy and unsure before, so completely un-Loki like. And then a green glow surrounded his whole body.

Chess looked on in amazement as he transformed. Their face became softer, their lips plumper, jawline rounder. Their height decreased a few inches and their hair lengthened. Then her breasts began to appear, smooth and rounded, her nipples darkening a few shades. Her hips broadened and the pubic area flattened out. Her fingers were still long, but they tapered more, her palms rounder as well. Her thighs and calves, whilst still firm, lost some of their muscular definition.

Then she was stood there in all her glory, Loki, Goddess of Mischief.

And all Chess could say was, “You are beautiful.”

Loki smiled.

Chapter 21

Tag list: @sidepartskinnyjeans @christywantspizza @turbolisedcomet @animnerd @viva-asgardia @goldylions

#loki #marvel #loki fic #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki imagine #loki smut #loki fanfic #genderfluid loki #loki x ofc #late writes #late to the party 81

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paellaplease · 3 years

Note

Hi, I see you're taking requests! If it hasn't been done yet, could you do aspectabund with Revali please? I love your writing <3

2. aspectabund - letting emotion show easily through the face or eyes

pairing: revali x reader

summary: he knows you’ve been avoiding him and he can’t seem to figure out why.

Shaking the snow from his feathers, Revali surveyed the layered red rock of Mount Agaat with a scrutinizing gleam in his eyes. The reconnaissance flyby over the ice covered peaks had proven successful, with him safely scouting out several bokoblin camps under the cover of cloud.

Mindful of the tripwire, he entered the makeshift campsite to find you and the Gerudo Chief conversing quietly by the fire. You appeared in deep contemplation, and out of respect (and perhaps partial curiosity) he made no move to announce his arrival.

Urbosa crossed her arms, turning to you with a sly smile adorning her lip. “You can’t keep dancing around each other forever.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, fiddling with one of your winter gloves. “It’s highly likely he won’t understand anyway.”

“I’m sure his feelings on the matter are not as dissimilar as you think. Besides...” She leaned forward, whispering something into your ear.

Warmth creeping up to your cheeks, your face was in your hands in an instant, body leaning forward as Urbosa let out a short laugh at your exaggerated reaction. Cute.

The mortified groan you gave in response made him chuckle, finally alerting you both to his presence.

The Gerudo Chief angled her head and gave a brief nod in his direction, most likely having sensed his presence ages ago. In stark contrast, you quickly spun in your seat, mouth agape.

Nearly falling from the log, Urbosa reached out to snag the hood of your coat, saving your face from smashing into the dirt ground. Revali tsked, you should really be more aware of your surroundings.

"Revali!” Immediately, you bit down on your lip, schooling your face into something more subdued. “Welcome back."

Tilting his head, he found it odd how difficult it was for you to maintain eye contact. Your cheeks were darker at this point, the tip of your nose slightly red. His wings itched to readjust the scarf wrapped loosely around your neck. Perhaps you were cold. That won’t do.

"Did I miss anything?" He asked, looking pointedly at Urbosa.

He would never admit it but the Chief maintained a steadfast poker face. “I have nothing to share.” Standing up, she moved to add more kindling to the fire. “No monster has dared approach us yet.”

Judging by the impressive blades hanging from both your hips, he wasn’t surprised. Rubbing at his shoulders, he swiped a wing over the rocky expanse before them. “Good. And thanks to me, we now have a greater chance of avoiding them on the way up.”

He didn’t miss the way your body froze when Urbosa offered for him to take her seat. Not seeing any issue and assuming it to be a response to the cold of the mountain, he acquiesced.

The mission was completed without a hitch, the swing of your blade delivering the killing blow to the fierce lynel that guarded the peak of the mountains. Revali tried not to stare as you cleaned your blade on the snow, ignoring the errant beat of his heart as you turned to smile at him, skin still flushed from the heat of battle.

“It comes to no surprise that you are the Gerudo Chief’s apprentice.” He nodded, unable to hide the hint of admiration in his voice.

Tugging at the sleeves of your flowing blue jacket, your eyes were wide and shining, mouth close to admitting something profound and important. Revali kept his beak shut, waiting for you to say what you needed, disappointed when all it came to be was a simple “Thanks.”

You then proceeded not to speak to him for the rest of the week.

It was a shame really, you were one of the few allies he could stand for more than five minutes. The Rito thought you were diligent; a fighter that could tame a tempest, and most of all a worthy opponent when it came to the odd verbal sparring match.

Never had you shied away from a challenge, especially one posed by him. He was invested in your progress, secretly standing guard on the nights you would sneak out to train, ensuring that no person nor creature would disturb you. What's worse, a part of him honestly thought that you had begun to consider him as something close to a friend.

And now...

“I’ll scout the area!”

Revali sighed as he watched your retreating form once again, the remaining Champions looking at each other with equal confusion at your sudden disappearance into the forest. He didn’t know what your problem was, and honestly one more day of these mixed messages was going to drive him insane.

Slipping past him like water, you evaded him at all costs. Taking your meals alone or with different people, changing the location of your training sessions, waking up unbearably early or extremely late.

Then, on day eight of this madness, he found you sparring with a particular golden-haired knight that he couldn’t stand. That was the last straw.

“Fight me,” he said to you, uncaring of the other knights on the training field that stopped to stare at him approaching. The sword in his wing, though blunted, felt foreign and heavy. Long has it been since he last held a blade like this.

Taking off your helmet, you rubbed at your eyes to see if it was truly him. “Revali?” Funny, that was the first thing you’d said to him in days. “Where’s your bow? Ah, it seems you’ve forgotten.” You were already in the process of collecting your things. “Perhaps next time. It wouldn’t be fair if you had to fight me with a sword, after all…”

He scoffed, watching as you turned to leave. “Oh, so you plan on running away again like a scared fledgling?”

The training sword sailed past his head, missing his cheek by only a fraction. You didn't give him a second to flinch.

Revali side-stepped away, making a move to swing his sword at your back. Feet sliding, you blocked it with ease, sword already there to intercept his own even before it completed its arc through the air.

Experimentally, he pushed back on the blade. Dead still, it refused to budge. He tilted his head to capture your eyes, thrilled to see the burning embers behind them, all passivity long abandoned. There you are. “Nice to see you,” he grinned wryly.

Both of you separated quickly. Circling each other, his eyes took in the determined clench of your jaw and the steady rise and fall of your chest, waiting for when you’d launch yourself forward again.

"Not bad," you smirked. “Another one from that bag of tricks Chief Kamori taught you?” Your confidence in the moment was rather enthralling. Once again he found himself memorizing the planes of your face, reveling in the way your emotions would flit past—clear as day.

“Just you wait til I’m in the air with a bow in my hand."

"That's surprising!" You grinned, teeth sharp. "Didn't think the Great Revali was so reliant on keeping to the skies.” A cloud of dirt was kicked up as you propelled yourself forward. Taking the hilt with both hands, you raised your sword to strike heavily down on his head. “But isn’t it pretty when he finally comes down to your level.”

With a grunt, Revali barely had time to strengthen his stance, bringing his blade up to block your attack. The clashing of swords sent his talons skidding back on the dirt, the muscles in his arms straining against the weight of the blow.

“You’re insane!” He laughed breathily. “That could have cleaved my skull in two.”

“I knew you’d block it.”

The fight soon became the only other sound in the training field, many of the knights having left to complete their drills somewhere else. Even that quiet Hylian was no longer there, taking his leave once confident you could hold your own.

Of course they can defend themselves. He wanted to call out in mocking arrogance. And if they ever were in trouble they wouldn’t need you anyway. Because I’m here.

Taking a deep breath, you launched yourself at him again, delivering several attacks in a series of sweeping motions. Revali found himself having to focus intently on each one, blocking one after the other, eyes following the movement of your arm in an attempt to anticipate where the blade would next appear.

As such, he doesn’t notice the sweeping motion of your leg, the action sending him falling backwards into the ground.

Unlucky for you, the Rito had known the feeling of falling all his life. And before you had the chance to step away, he discarded his blade, reaching out to drag you down with him.

The air was knocked out of him as you landed painfully on his chest. Your sword slipped from your hand, clattering to the side. Revali pushed it further away when you tried to reach for it, trapping you against him with his other wing.

Stilling, he could feel the rush of your heartbeat against his own. From on top, you glared at him. “Let me go, fights not over.”

“Call it an intermission, darling.” You went red at that, smushing your head into his chest so as to hide the wild blush on your cheeks. “This fight is on hold until you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me this whole week.”

“Because you’re…”

“What was that?” He said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

“Because you’re you!” You finally let out. An angry scream left your throat, except because your face was still pressed to his front it came out as muffled and rather adorable.

Revali rested his head on the ground as he exhaled, finding peace in the never ending sea of blue stretched out above you both. “Well,” he said, interrupting the little breakdown you were having. “Of course I’m me, there’s no one else really. Unless you’ve met another Rito of the same name with razor sharp wit and devilishly good looks.”

You huffed a laugh, finally lifting your head to look at him. This close and he could see the fan of your eyelashes and the kiss of the sun on your cheeks. It took everything in him not to reach out and trace the line of your mouth, wondering if your lips were as soft as they appeared.

“I’ve been avoiding you because I like you, silly bird.” Blinking, you gazed at him with utter softness and sincerity. “And I apologise for running. I intended to tell you earlier— on the mountain. But self-doubt got the best of me and I didn’t want you to stop being my friend if you didn’t feel the same.”

Revali’s wings fell to his sides as you shifted, propping yourself up with both your arms. “Guess there’s nothing to worry about now that it’s out in the open.” A watery laugh escaped from your lips when he said nothing. “Come on, Revali. Say something. Or at least stand up so I can kick your ass.”

His arms were around you once again in an instant, crushing you to him in a tight embrace. “Rito, if this is some kind of trick to knock me off my guard I swear…” He could feel your smile as you pressed your face into the crook of his neck.

“I like you too.” He shook his head, poking you in the side and smiling when you yelped in response. “You are amazing and skillful. I enjoy every moment I spend with you. Though you overthink too much. Alas, but the curse of one so perceptive.”

“Still don’t know if that’s an insult or a compliment.” You mouthed into his neck. His feathers raised at the feeling of your warm breath against him. “Though I’m extremely relieved that Urbosa was right.”

Revali thought back to the mission at Mount Agaat, wondering what exactly the Gerudo Chief told you back then. “Right about what?”

“That you can’t take your eyes off me, even if you tried.”

#revali x reader #revali botw x reader #revali/reader #revali #revali botw #botw #rito #botw x reader #monkey brain: revali with sword #mutual pinin with a hint of hot fightin #liberosis part 3 coming soon i just needed to get this off my chest

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 3 years

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I feel like you've touched on this in some of your AUs, but I was wondering what you think about the characterization of Bella as a danger magnet.

Originally, I thought it was used as a plot device to allow Edward to be her savior in the parking lot and in Port Angeles (which to me read as the typical romance trope) and for the James and Victoria plotlines to play out, among other things.

In-universe, however, I find the mention of this distracting. I don't think fate or life work that way where one person would have horrible luck or attract more danger than anyone else (outside of marginalization, which isn't the case here. Even considering the power imbalance between vampires/werewolves and humans doesn't do much of the leg work.)

Is it just a combination of Bella's clumsiness that has landed her in the hospital multiple times and her not being scared of the supernatural? Her sweet, sweet blood that attracts predators? In canon, both Bella and Edward accept that she's simply a danger magnet but that explanation doesn't make sense to me. What do you think?

I'm actually not sure I have touched on it, at least, not directly. I think I just make one-liner gags then go on my merry way.

But let's get into it.

Regardless of whether this is a reasonable thing to believe or not, both Bella and Edward have their reasons for wholeheartedly believing it to be true.

Why Does Edward Insist Bella's a Danger Magnet?

Edward, early in Twilight, is actively panicking about his involvement in Bella's life. He knows that a better man would stay completely away from Bella, worse yet, Carlisle keeps reminding Edward that a better person would move out of Forks altogether (as Carlisle keeps begging Edward to do rather than tempt fate and eat Bella).

Edward cannot justify his existence in Bella's life and it utterly torments him.

And then, it happens, Edward realizes that the gods themselves despise Bella Swan. Bella is riding in the chariot of a man hated by Zeus.

He likens this to a feeling of divine revelation: Bella Swan needs him.

Without his involvement in her life she might be crushed by a van, raped in Port Angeles, eaten by bears, you name it. Something terrible will happen to the most wonderful creature on the planet unless he personally is there to stop it.

Edward is suddenly no longer the monster (or at least, not only the monster), he is Bella's personal protector, fighting against fate itself to keep this beautiful creature alive. A dark protector, kind of like Batman, but cooler.

Edward now not only has reason to stay in Bella's life, he must do so, otherwise she could very well die. THAT SPIDER IN HER BED COULD EAT HER RIGHT NOW.

And true, he still planned to leave in due time, but he also breathed a sigh of relief as he could assuage his torn conscience. Don't worry, everybody, if Edward's not lurking in Bella's bedroom every night with her blissfully unaware then she'll be eaten by a space shark. So it's all cool.

Of course, he always intends to leave her, but now he can do so at a later date.

In New Moon, Edward is reminded that this isn't quite the case. He himself, his family, is the greatest danger to Bella there is. He can no longer justify his presence in her life. As a result he cuts ties immediately.

When he comes back in Eclipse, given all the shit that's happened to Bella, he can once more justify his presence and get that sweet sweet relief knowing that, without him, the universe will literally collapse upon Bella Swan.

Hence, Edward's theory: the universe is actively out to get Bella Swan. Either God is a cruel jackass who is tormenting this perfect person or else made Bella, the perfect woman, specifically so that Edward can protect her. Edward can't decide which.

Bella thought Edward confessing this was deeply romantic.

Why Does Bella Insist She's a Danger Magnet?

Bella is a depressed teenager. Like many teenagers, she thinks everything is about her. Everyone hates her, everyone's looking at her, everyone thinks she's ugly, the universe is literally out to get her.

Bella is not the first, and not the last, teenager to think that the world is literally against her. Everything terrible happens to her and life is woe. This isn't all that weird of a thing for her to believe (especially as, in general, weird shit does happen to her).

More, Edward presents his case very eloquently. Edward's batshit insane, but the beauty of him is that he somehow says it in a manner that's not always immediately obvious. He often sounds rather poetic and reasonable.

Edward says, "Perhaps God is trying to kill you."

Bella sits there eating her mushroom raviolli, "Makes sense to me. Also, you know that waitress is hitting on you, right?"

Is Bella a Danger Magnet?

Well, we don't know anything about higher powers in the Twilight universe, that's left very open ended. What I will say is that a lot of weird shit does seem to happen to Bella with a frequency that, were I to sit down and do the back of the envelope calculations, is statistically unlikely.

Now, some of these follow the others: Victoria hunting Bella is related to Bella first capturing James attention. Bella's involvement with the wolves is related to James and Victoria showing up. Bella's interaction with the Volturi centers upon having met Edward Cullen.

However, let's break down the bullshit that happens to Bella Swan.

First, she happens to move to Forks during the period where the Cullens are in Forks. That Bella happens to move to the small town where there are vampires is highly unlikely to begin with. That she moves there in the time period in which the Cullens happens to be there is also unlikely.

We're already talking small probabilities.

Two, Bella happens to be a singer for one of these vampires. Singers are extraordinarily rare. Aro, who is 3500 years old, has never encountered one. Carlisle, 350 years old, seems to have never met one. Emmett seems to be many standard deviations off the normal for meeting two, still meets them decades apart across a wide variety of space. This is a very small probability.

Three, not a week later, Bella is nearly crushed by a van in a parking lot. Now, this one's a lot more likely. P(Fatality|Icy Conditions) is not devastatingly high but it's not P(Move to Town With Fucking Vampires), but if we're doing the joint probability this is getting really really low likelihood (P(Move to Town With Fucking Vampires) * P(Vampire Singer) * P(Nearly Hit By Truck | Icy Conditions) ~= 0))

Not too long after that, Bella nearly gets raped and left in a dumpster in Port Angeles. Now, this probability, that of sexual assault, is sadly rather high. Especially in the conditions Bella was in. Now, happening to run into a serial rapist who is actually planning to kill her and put her body in a dumpster, that's a bit less high. What's suspect here is, again, the timing of it all.

Not too long after that, Bella happens to be watching the Cullens play baseball when three man eating vampires happen to be in the area. These vampires happen to include James, rather than any other vampire, who decides it'd be great to hunt Bella for sport. Which, of course, dominoes into the rest of canon.

Is Bella clumsy? Does she make poor decisions sometimes? Do some of these events lead to others? Yes.

Doesn't mean a bunch of weird shit doesn't happen to her. If I was Bella, I too, would be wondering what the fuck was up with my luck. I think it's safe to say she fails the Null Hypothesis test.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #bella swan #edward cullen #anti edward cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion #probability #statistics #mathematics

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crazybutgood · 2 years

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Fic rec: Time After Time by bluefay

Image description: a photo of the sky I took from my window. A skyline of buildings and trees is visible, near which the sky looks rainbow coloured. Wisps of clouds are fanning out in the blue sky. I really think it fit the vibe of the fic!

Time After Time (Linny) (T, ~13k) by @thesleepiesthufflepuff (bluefay on ao3) (warnings/tags: discussion of trauma, some mentions of PTSD)

A few weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, Luna buys an ice cream truck.

I read this fic today and I had so many feels for it and Fay’s writing in general that I just had to rec this (Shout-out to @thebooktopus for looking this through ❤️)

Fay writes driving and road trip fics so well, and this one is absolutely amazing as usual. The escapism, the allure and want of the freedom of just driving away, especially with someone dear to you, is just so on point and relatable. The ache for going on a trip yourself upon reading this is simultaneously soothed, as Fay’s description of tranquil and carefree experience of driving and travelling in your own private bubble will take you along such a journey. I think in this fic, the desire and appeal of escapism is especially enhanced by the need to get away from everything after the trauma, sorrow, and loss following the War. Luna’s spontaneous decision to buy an ice cream truck results in her whisking Ginny along on a ride filled with long drives, companionable conversations and silences, delicious ice cream on sunny days, and of course, revelations and falling in love. Luna’s matter-of-fact manner and open affection eventually abates Ginny’s concerns and fears – my heart aches for Ginny upon reading her feelings of uncertainty and pining – and the two of them are just so soft and precious together.

Part of the immersive experience of reading this fic – your own personal escapism – is Fay’s lovely descriptions of the scenery as they travel. I can see everything playing in my mind’s eye like a movie and feel as if I was there. It makes me feel like capturing the essence of the moments into a snow globe (I literally squealed at the part where that was in the fic btw) and watching the scenes play out, changing into scenery after pretty scenery as you rotate the snow globe.

Go read this wonderful fic of hope, wanderlust and healing, and leave some love for it on ao3! Check out Fay’s other driving and road trip fics as well :)

#fay delivers time after time 😌#cbg fic rec #linny #thesleepiesthufflepuff #talented bean #road trip #driving #harry potter #wlw #fic #fave

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lochnessies · 3 years

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ok here’s a dissection of a post an anon sent me the link to and bc i have the worst time management possible and i completely forgot i had it lol so sorry anon here you go ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

I am constantly thinking about how Edelgard just doesn’t seem designed to appeal to cishet men.

i hate to be the one to break this news to you op but just because a character doesn’t show skin like charlotte fire emblem doesn’t mean she isn’t designed to pander to men. she’s very much designed to pander to the (majority straight male) player base with her ‘uwu i only trust you professor omg did u see that rat? pls don’t look at my painting of you uwu’.

then there’s the whole edelgard c support in japanese where byleth makes reference to having come to her room for ‘yobi’ which is

there’s also the scene where byleth can make an unsolicited comment about edelgard’s breast size. which is… uhh… gross.

edelgard also has cipher cards that go from slightly fanserviceie to full on suggestive

and also her breast armor that my sister relentlessly mocked lol

and here’s a chart from the 3h subreddit about gender/sexually in regards to edelgard and edeleth. it’s extremely straight male. op might have just overlooked this since they probably don’t go on reddit and stay on tumblr (which unlike reddit is mostly female and has a high lgbt demographic).

Like the joke is that Bleagles is the Gay House, but everything about her feels deliberately non-hetero.

i don’t like where this is going…

She’s dressed in sharp outfits covering her upper body, with proportions that don’t seem exaggerated.

so women who cover up must be lgbt because straight women are naturally more revealing? oh y i k e s

Her poise and the way she effortlessly flourishes her axe exhibits an air of coolness. While titties out =/= character of no substance, Edelgard being dressed more modestly suggests that she wasn’t designed with male-centred fanservice in mind.

“titties don’t equal no substance but here’s my post on how she has more substance because she doesn’t show titties” ok

And she still looks absolutely stunning in her more modest attire (like seriously, I haven’t felt the need to return to cosplay in years but I want to do her academy look so bad).

yes she does. amazing design 10/10. i have a feeling this is the only part i’m going to agree with

Edelgard is intense. She does not mince her words and she is constantly evaluating you. Though she tries, she has a difficult time understanding her peers initially. Early on, she talks about how she would sacrifice herself and others in the name of some greater good. She is terrible at communicating with her peers. She has to be seen as infallible. Her heart has been hardened for years and she assumes she has to stay that way. She also assumes everyone mourns the same way she does - which is why she (kind of insensitively) insists you move on when Jeralt dies. Because to her, grief has to be channeled towards action, or else you’ll get lost in it. This attitude is demonstrated time and time again as she presses on. It can make her come off as cold and unfeeling - but look closer, and she’s anything but.

don’t really have anything to say at this part. it is pretty on the nose though i would slightly disagree with that last sentence a bit. i wouldn’t say she’s as i feeling as hubert is but all of her talks of the war boil down to how she feels and never her victims.

Her story is ultimately about her realizing that to achieve her goals, she needs to let people in and allow herself to want things like cakes and tea parties and lazy days in peace.

????? what ????? her goals include imperialism, ethnic and religious targeting. her story is about having a set of beliefs and mowing down anybody who stands in her way. that has nothing to do with tea, friends, and lazy days. also am i supposed to be sad that she has to get up everyday and work? i do that and i didn’t start a war and only throw a pity party for myself

The game leaves the player guessing as to how involved the Flame Emperor was in each Part I event, makes you feel hurt by her betrayal, and leaves you with a choice: do you follow the orders of the woman who tried to make you a god without your consent, or a young girl with questionable morals about to throw the world into upheaval?

this isn’t an ideal situation but i think i’m going to stick with the woman who tried to make me a god since i’m not selfish and i know it’s not only my desires and life at stake here. plus the green hair slaps ngl

Choosing her of your own volition (not for completionist reasons) requires the basic ability to sympathize with a woman’s pain. It also requires the player to read beyond her unwavering will and dubious methods to get a sense of how deep that pain goes and how the theme of humanity relates to her differently in each route.

i’m not going to touch this since @nilsh13 made a post on it that i’ll link here. i agree with everything he said so to repeat it would be redundant.

The player must be able to see a young woman’s desperate resolve to change the world so it stops exploiting people and ruining lives. They must be able to accept the fact that women can make the same morally wrong and ambivalent decisions that complicated male characters get to make all the time and still be the one to root for.

literally the same reason i love rhea lol her goddess experiments are dubious at best but her reasons are the same you mentioned. i would say that i like this quality in edelgard too if her ending, while bloody, actually ended in a good outcome for fodlan.

This is not unique to LGBT+ people, but this population is likely to understand why Edelgard feels so strongly about why she has to change the system.

i understand wanting to change a system, i really do. like edelgard, i’m an opinionated bisexual woman (who’s also physically disabled) so yeah i get it. and change can be good but it can also be terrible. even if the church was the boogeyman edelgard treats it as she still replaces it with her own shit regime. so it’s the same circus just with a new conductor.

I don’t think “Edelgard gets undue criticism because she’s a woman” captures the full picture. An important aspect of her treatment by certain parts of the fandom is that she’s a radical woman.

or maybe she does some pretty fucked up shit and it goes unacknowledged in her own route. and yeah she’s radical but in all the worst ways.

Her hatred of the Church and the Crest system resonates way harder with people who have been hurt by institutions that are deeply engrained in our society.

and what about people who have been hurt by systems where their ‘merit’ didn’t measure up and they were left behind? what about people from nations that experienced imperialism?

Siding with her means siding against the Church - which, while different from real world religious institutions, still invokes language about “sin” and “punishment.

yeah the ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ are used in relation to attempted murders which i think everybody can agree is a bad thing that needs to be condemned.

Choosing Edelgard will likely hit different if homophobic and transphobic Christians used that rhetoric against you.

it has literally nothing to do with ‘sins’ and ‘punishments’ in regards to being gay or trans. that’s you projecting. especially since the church has 2 canon gay characters and two coded ones.

like i can understand why having a church condemn you can be uncomfortable but i’m begging you to please look at the context of what’s happening.

I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that the reason F/F Edeleth is the more popular iteration of that ship because most people who would choose to S-support Edelgard are LGBT+ themselves. This is not a revelation. To anyone in the community, it’s fairly obvious.

i was talking to nilish and he said

so yeah… while there is definitely sapphic femleth shippers out there, there’s still a whole lot of weird fetishizing going on from straight men about edelgard.

Crimson Flower was my first route. I went into the game knowing absolutely nothing. I played it during the last week of 2020 and hoo boy was it cathartic.

i can tell. this wasn’t supposed to be a dig but it came out that way and i’m not taking it out.

I felt like I was living out a gay revolution power fantasy, where I could truly change systems of oppression while fighting alongside a group of troubled students I’d shaped the lives of.

so a gay revolution power fantasy (cringe) goes hand in hand with imperialism and installing a dictatorship? also the war had nothing to do with sexuality.

Through your unwavering support, Edelgard learns that she needs to be human, that she must listen to her friends, and that she’s allowed to enjoy the world she’s creating.

edelgard gets to learn how to be human all while hunting those who don’t. and she doesn’t listen fo her friends. she doesn’t even trust them. she’s willing to talk to byleth but keep the people who’s been by her side for five years in the dark about everything. and yeah she gets to enjoy her new words since she’s on top. hate to be a commoner under her rule after she burned down my village in her war.

I love this character so much.

clearly. and i honestly don’t care if somebody likes her. i do as well even if my sometimes scathing words can make it seem otherwise.

It has been six months since I first played and I am still analyzing her,

me too. please help me escape i’m losing my mind

because there’s so much depth. Yet so many people fail to see that depth and dismiss her as evil,

i mean, she does some fucked up shit that goes beyond any of the less than desirable actions of the other main characters and does an extremely poor job in trying to make herself seem innocent. i personally don’t think she’s pure evil but i completely understand where the people who say she is are coming from.

because they never had the will to understand complicated women in the first place.

that’s big talk from somebody who implies that a gay pope is comparable to homophobic and transphobic irl religions and that leads an oppressive regime all because she uses the vague terms of sin and punishments that you have to gay power fantasy your way out of

#i finished this at 1am so sorry if i’m incoherent #mine

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vminity21 · 3 years

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sweet on you | ksj

Pairing: baker!seokjin x female!reader

Word Count: 3,087

Genre: fluff, absolute fluff on the valentine’s day

Warning(s): other than i have the biggest sweet tooth whether it is for seokjin or a colossal of desserts but you have been warned otherwise none; Rated: pg

Summary: after every excuse you take to visit your favorite local bakery to see your favorite employee, in a sweet surprise, you learn that the baker happens to share an immense crush on you as you do him.

Credits to: @suhdays once again for creating the cover! Happy Valentines day!

Seokjin kneads at the dough of what is to become the toastiest of baguettes while flour paints his arms, and his gloved hands grow achy from the continuous batches. Special orders flow numerously as the holidays inch closer, and with Valentine’s day approaching its turn, it has been long hours of consistently baking and recreating desserts for the hopeless romantics. Inwardly he knows he is guilty of such fondness for a face haunts every crevice of his mind even in the odd hours of the evening when he tosses and turns in his sleep.

The ring of the door signals another customer prompting Seokjin to slip off his current gloves to exchange for new ones, lifting his head to see none other than who makes his heart leap every single time- you. Smiling brightly in his direction, he gulps before putting on his confident face. “Welcome back! I’m glad to see the macarons didn’t scare you away,” he chuckles while you press fingertips of pure chagrin to your forehead.

“I consumed all thirty of them and I’m not sure if I should be ashamed or proud, but I surprisingly survived,”

Quiet murmurs of customers are sporadic throughout the space, yet their wandering eyes remain on the décor of the bakery, hardly noticing the sparks glimmering between you and your favorite worker. “Whoa,” Seokjin bellows, “And, I’m not sure if I should applaud you or tell you to beware. Sugar can be brutal,”

“Well, with your recipes, I’d say it’s worth the risk.” It’s a subtle flirt, yet the flattery in Seokjin’s eyes melt your heart.

“What can I get for you today?” Seokjin’s covered palms press against the freshly sanitized glass as he stares at you contently. Every chance you get, you enter this very bakery in the hopes of seeing Kim Seokjin, and every chance you get, you take home another treat that you save for your cheat day after a long week of work. Out of every local bakery, you have yet to find one that tops the way Seokjin bakes. He has a knack for ingredients and everything you have tried has been sent straight from the pearly gates of Heaven. But you are also convinced that Seokjin was God sent too because when you first discovered this place, you did not expect the immediate spark when you locked with his kind, umber eyes.

Hearts must have danced in elegant spirals around your frame while you witnessed the light movement of his hair when he turned in what seemed in slow motion to face you- plump, pink lips spread into a warm smile, teeth whiter than the whites of your eyeballs, his skin was clearer than the windows, and the way your mouth watered at the sight of his broad shoulders- you are not sure if you even breathed for a straight minute. He welcomed you with kindness and surprisingly tolerated your indecisiveness on what to purchase, but inwardly you were trying all you could to remain in his presence because something about him reveled serenity. And you wanted every part of it.

Seeing Seokjin sparked slumbers of exuberant pink paths prodding beneath your dancing shoes that are clacking in the direction of the delightful smell of marshmellows where sky tower lollipops align the world with their colorful swirls glistening beneath the brightly lit sky without a sign of melting. Vines of licorice would twist along chocolate trunks with branches growing gummy-like leaves matching the scrumptious hues of your surroundings. Rainbows of hard candies trickled along the ground to decorate the view prompting the compulsion to sink your teeth into every delicacy especially when your eyes would cast upon the pastel colors of macarons- flavors of creams protruding between the slices. You would barely miss his silhouette exploring amongst a bed of gumdrops that sat a far distance from an enormous peppermint pinwheel breezing against stalks of blue and pink clouds of cotton candy.

Visions of prancing gummy bears decorate a mountain of frozen ice cream while gingerbread men scope the milky river to avoid being caught by the currents desperate to travel the terrain as you longed to with the man lost in this wonderland of a universe. Oreo crumbs trail on either side of the stream, the smell of chocolate wafts in your direction while you continue the journey. Humming to yourself, your adventure is to endeavor the red velvet island- cream cheese frosting fluffing in an appearance of frames of pictures of more delights as well as smeared professionally into an imagined ceiling. The deep red, walls caked firmly with countless desserts poised in different areas of the domain tempted tourists passing by into taking a bite of their delectable treats.

Nearing the entrance, you would pause, recognizing him pirouetting throughout the greenery resembling grass but is edible as everything made in this dream you are infatuated by. When the pang of something grasps your attention, you searched your eyes along the sky- not noticing anything right away and when you returned your glance to where you found him, he disappeared. Halted in curiosity, you gasp at the tap on your shoulder. Crescent eyes beaming while he brushes his fingers along your gleaming lips, and that’s when your fantasy would wonder the feel of his kiss. The taste of strawberries encompassed your tongue once you would lean into him, but when something else nickered your frame, you pulled away. In awe, you observe minuscule, circular sprinkles shower the two of you in surprise. They tangle within your hair while boisterous laughter escapes both of you simultaneously- palms rising above your head while you spin, attempting to catch them as they rain. Shuffling the sprinklings within your hands, you are in love with the resilient colors brightening the atmosphere as it heightened the happiness.

The dream that has become your most cherished- golden pinecones stick to floating silvery cotton where chocolate cupcakes with thick swirls of white icing blend with red, glistening ornaments- the aroma of fresh pastries with shiny, red jelly are enticed with powdered sugar; thistles of brush dangling above while you whirl around at the enchanting view. Polka dots beautify the walls imaging fondant icing while slithers of whipped cream dazzle the rest of the desserts present. It doesn’t take long before an existence melts behind you, wrapping his arms around your frame, plopping his chin onto your shoulder. It’s the sweetness of his countenance, the plush kiss he places on the corner of your jaw; the delicate aura you are scared can magically disappear; the delicious taste of his kiss when he twirls you to capture your lips, pinning you against another wall reflecting swirls of cinnamon, fingers pressing into your waist while your hands grip his plumy tufts in desperation for more. Sprinkles clang numerously within the walls miraculously not needing a sky to downpour; lips locked and lost in time, it finalizes the fantasy where you wake up with a dazed smile.

“Please tell me you’re not contemplating macarons again,” Seokjin’s voice breaks through the cloud of thoughts bringing you back to reality while you awkwardly suppress the burn of a blush flooding your chest. “I purposely withheld your favorite flavors in hopes of you trying something new.”

“Oh, you brute, I should have known!” You laugh, seeing his shoulders shake in response to his teasing toward you, “So new? Like, new new or never had before new? I um… You know, I was actually planning on trying something new today,” you do not mean to lie, but you kind of lie.

“You had every intention on getting your usuals, and I have bamboozled you.”

“Alright, sir, two can play at this game because I can always go to Hoseok’s bakery-”

“Okay now you’re just being cruel!” Seokjin’s laugh is your favorite sound as he chuckles. Hoseok is his competition but also his best friend, and he is aware that Hoseok has been gaining much success with the recent opening of his bakery, but of course your heart belongs with Seokjin and his glorious, scrumptious delicacies warm and inviting within the glass casings.

“It is called revenge, and I shall prevail.” You wink.

Shaking his head, he quiets but only enough before he lifts his gaze to yours once again, “Speaking of anything new, I think I may have something in mind that you might like actually. I’m preparing to add another dessert to the menu, but I need someone to taste test to make sure it’s good enough to sell to the general public. Would you like to be the judge?” Seokjin leans off the glass casing still smiling at you while your eyebrows shoot up in excitement.

“Hm,” you release a purposeful ponder, “When are you wanting to showcase?”

“How about on Valentine’s day itself? I will be closing the shop early and you can come by after hours. Besides, I don’t really have anything else to do, and when I get bored, I bake.”

Boldly, you tilt your head, a knowing smile budding on your lips, “Are you asking me on a date, Seokjin?”

“I would be lying if I said I wasn’t.” Your heart flutters in reaction to his tender grin that follows his words. You have dreamed for countless months to win this man’s affections and here you are, about to experience your first date with him on Valentine’s day of all days.

“Well, I guess I will see you this weekend,” you muse, “I have high expectations for whatever you create, Seokjin.” Turning on a heel, you shift ever so slightly to throw him a chirpy shrug. Outwardly, it is all a show of composure though your inner self is screaming in joyous bursts mirroring the fireworks going off beneath his chest.

When Valentine’s day comes, Seokjin goes all out in early hours of the morning before the shop opens, red streams curl from the walls where he carefully tapes them- red, pink, and white balloons hover along the ceiling to bring more colors and the very second, he closes for the day, he will paint the floor with a myriad of rose petals while candles flicker upon the tables sporadically. He wants to prove to you that he has been waiting for this moment for a long time and he will celebrate you every day if you let him. A bundle of dark red roses lay hidden in his office as well as a heart shaped box of what one would assume is the typical fill of chocolates, but nay, it is holding the surprise of your favorite macaron flavors, just to add to the dessert that he is elated to make. He begins his swift trek to the kitchen, collecting all the ingredients and sprawling them along the counter in preparation before the crowd sets in. And when they do, he serves the happy couples with all smiles, looking forward to whenever he gets to see you.

When the hour comes for the bakery to close, he rushes to finish up the pastry, pouring melted chocolate as the completing touch. “Perfect,” he whispers, protecting the sweets with a lid to maintain the heat. A soft knock on the door makes his heart skip a beat as he briefly flings his apron on the counter, dusting off any crumb excess off his clothes and ruffling his hair before throwing a mint in his mouth. Releasing a slow exhale, he smiles, “Operation, win her heart.”

Sauntering to the entrance, he pauses in awe. Your hair is styled flawlessly while the red, shimmery dress clings to your figure complimenting a pair of high heels. Makeup covers your face in an exceptional amount where the color of your eyes shine, once you see him- mouth ajar, eyes widening in reaction, he robotically opens the door to invite you in. The smell of roses and small hints of lemon reach your nostrils calming the anxiety quivering within your fingertips. Seokjin looks so handsome as he always does, the black turtleneck hugging his torso while the tan slacks hang slightly loose against his long legs. “You look amazing,” you murmur, him shaking his head to bring himself back to the present.

“I can say the exact same to you. You look… God, you look-”

“Proper? Trim? Elegant? …Alluring-”

“All of the above,” he says breathlessly, “But you always look so beautiful,”

Blushing at his compliment, it is hard for you to stay serious sometimes especially when you are nervous, so your eyes scan the décor of the building, “I love what you’ve done with the place,” you step forward with the click of a heel, noticing the rose petals glinting upon the mahogany colored floor.

“I was hoping you would say that.” he clears his throat, “But here, have a seat, I have the dessert ready as well as a few other surprises,” he skids a chair out for you as you descend in shock. Other surprises? He disappears but only for a few minutes before he confidently returns with a lidded case covering whatever it is, he has made just for you. His other hand hides behind his back as he effortlessly places the tray upon the table. “And walla,” he smirks, lifting the lid as your eyes enlarge at the golden brown pastries pressing against a truffle of cream, some protruding delicately on the sides as melted chocolate trickles from the pastry and onto the plate. The sight is so tasty, and you can feel your mouth watering as the smell of the treat becomes prevalent.

“What is this?” You say in uttermost anticipation as he chuckles at your readiness.

“Profiteroles,” he replies, “They are one of my absolute favorites, and I have been wanting to make them for some time but haven’t until now.”

“Try one with me,” you break eye contact with the mesmerizing profiteroles to stare into the chocolate of Seokjin’s eyes, “But after you reveal what is behind your back.”

When a hearty laugh brushes past his widened smile, you are beyond yourself when he gradually brings into your line of vision, a bundle of roses and a heart shaped box, “You are not allowed to open the box until you eat a profiterole though,” Seokjin playfully demands, “So until then, I will protect this box at all costs.”

“I promise I will not touch until you say so. You have my word,” you raise your hands in defense to add to your statement. Seokjin sits across from you, settling the gifts next to the plate. Soft music reverberates suddenly to drown the silence as you feel your heart flying- you are certain that no one has ever done anything as sweet as this for you.

“Are you ready?” He says, scooting the plate closer to you.

“Very ready,” reaching carefully, you grab the treat, knowing very well that you want to devour it whole, and when you do, the cream mingled with the chocolate melts on your tongue deliciously as you close your eyes hazy. “Oh, my word,” you breathe, wanting another one immediately. “This is delicious! You have met every expectation! Jin, customers are going to love these!” The nickname flew from your mouth so naturally and instead of verbally responding, Seokjin chortling a high pitch laugh, leans forward, reaching his thumb to swipe a spot of chocolate from the corner of your mouth. The gesture is so sweet, you can’t help but gaze at him as he returns his hand back to lay on the table. “Have you tried one yet?” You speak softly. “You should. You’re phenomenal.”

He swats the air, “I’ll have one later. Your opinion matters to me the most anyways,”

“You?” Speechless, your eyes flit between his, nothing but admiration falls from his stare. “How do you do it? How do you make my mind drift to the happiest of places? I swear you just- I can’t- it doesn’t matter where I am, I am not happy until I see you.”

Reaching across the table, he leans forward, intertwining his fingers with yours as cliché as a movie, but this is the only movie you are willing to watch where the fairytale of him is connecting with you. “That’s why I always made sure your usuals were made as soon as I arrived. I didn’t want to disappoint nor have you betray me for Hoseok. Plus, he prefers coconut macaroons, not macarons.”

“The distinction between how they are actually pronounced. Thank you for clarifying,” there is nobody that has made you laugh as much as he has. “In all seriousness though, I don’t think I’ve ever had anything to look forward to until I found you.”

“And I couldn’t focus unless I knew who you were and if I was going to see you again. That’s why I always made conversation no matter how small until time gave me enough courage to finally ask you to be here.”

“Well, I am very glad that you asked.” Smiles linger while eyes remain connected. He has the most eloquent, gentle manly charm and you hope he will end up being your eventual forever one day.

“Come here,” In one flawless swoop, Seokjin reaches for the arm of your chair, sliding it closer to where your legs touch. Surprised laughter serenades his ears once the chair is paused, but the nearness of him sends tingles along your skin. A faint scent of cologne grips to his clothes igniting the further desire building from the crave on your lips. He leans in, you meeting halfway to close the gap in the softest brush of his kiss. Sunlight exposes through the windows to illuminate in response to the magic happening right now in this moment. Linking your arms behind his neck, he wraps his around you, tugging you closer, deepening the kiss- getting so lost in you that nothing else outside of this bakery matters- only you matter.

Feeling his smile within his kiss, you pull away but still close enough to feel his breath swiping your chin, you giggle, “So what’s in the box?”

“I guess you’ll have to see,” he presses a quick, giddy kiss. You squeezing him once ecstatically.

“Okay, but first, let me get some more sugar.” You move your palms to squish his cheeks to where his lips pucker. “I don’t know about you, but I like it brutal.” And with that, you kiss him again, letting destiny complete its story on a day you never dreamed would mean so much.

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jawritter · 3 years

Text

Born Under The Wrong Sign

Part 1

Summary: Dean Winchester, hunter, killer of Gods, demons, and monster, was born as an Omega. It never felt right, and he wants a change of biology. After all, just cause it's what we're assigned, it shouldn't identify who we are...

Pairing: Omega!Dean Winchester x Alpha!Reader

Written For: @spnkinkbingo

Square field: Omegaverse

Word Count: 1833

Beta’d By: @miss-nerd95! Thanks again hun!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Rating: Explicit

Warning: Identity Crisis? ABO Dynamics, smut, unprotected smut, mention of past abusive parents. John’s A+ parenting, knotting, dirty talk, language, talk of sex change and presentation changes. Some self hate. I think that’s about it.

A/N: This is the first fic I’ve ever written like this one, even for ABO, and even though I’m sure they’re out there I’ve never read one quite like it. So, that being said, I’m pretty nervous about throwing this one out there for you guys! So I really do hope you enjoy it! Feedback is golden! Please do not copy my work! This is part 1, part 2 will drop later this week!!

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Being a hunter was hard, regardless of anyone's presentation.

Dean had it a bit harder than most. It was bad enough when your father was John fucking Winchester, but if you were also born with the rare presentation of Omega, and you were a male on top of that, well, life was definitely not going to be in your favour.

Dean had been able to hide his presentation from his father for the most part. He had presented late. He was already 19, and only just an year ago had endured his first heat, which nearly scared him to death because he had thought he was a Beta up until that point.

Suppressants thankfully helped in keeping his scent from his Alpha father and Sammy was usually at Bobby’s most of the time. It was a lot harder to hide things from his little brother because he was with him 90 percent of the time, and had a knack to call him out when Dean was hiding something.

Why couldn’t he just be born a Beta? Hell, nothing was better than this, was it.

Male Omegas were rare, very rare, and usually went unwanted and almost never found a mate. It was almost impossible to find an Alpha female, because they were almost as rare as an Omega male and Dean had never been with a man before. It scared the fuck out of him that one day he might have to do just that in order to survive a heat. Then throwing pups into the equation with the life he lived and a not so supportive father? Fuck… This was bad, and he had to hide it and fight his biology as long as possible.

The night John found him in heat in a Denver motel room when he was only 22 years old was a night he tried to respress. John had been so...angry. Dean thought he was going to beat him to death; he was so angry. How could the son of John Winchester be a Beta after all? That was unacceptable.

It took almost a year for his father to look him in the eye again, and he had to work extra hard to prove that he could still follow orders, and could still hunt. It took him even longer to prove that his Omega presentation didn’t make him weaker than the Alphas they hunted with as well, and that he could hold his own.

Dean was larger than any male Omega they had ever seen, and that was a good thing. It meant John could hide the fact that his son was an Omega from other hunters. He was also just as strong as any Alpha male, and could carry himself with the same dominating demeanor when he needed too. It was a prodigy of being a child of war really. Cause that’s what this was, wasn’t it? War?

Years after John’s death, when Dean was around 35, he met you.

At first, he thought you were another Omega because you were too small and petite for an Alpha. That was until he caught your scent anyway. It threw him into an immediate heat, and he knew you were his. You took a little convincing, but after a while you came around to claiming your Omega. It was the first real knot Dean had ever taken, you made sure to keep his claiming mark low, because an Omega male hunter around other hunters was probably the equivalent of a black spot on a pirate. They would surely stop respecting him, if not kill him.

For years now, whenever Dean’s heat would come close, the two of you would go and hide away in one of Bobby’s old cabins so that you could take care of your Omega, and he’d be safe during his heat.

Pups were not an option for a hunter, regardless of whether the Omega was male or female. It just wasn’t wise. Dean was absolutely not for having pups, being knotted was nothing more than a means to an end for him, and he worked extra hard to keep up with all birth control. You even made sure to take it yourself, because being a female Alpha, you still oddly ran the risk of pregnancy, even if it were rare and a lot harder than it was for Dean to get pregnant, with him wanting no slips whatsoever. It was just too dangerous.

Normally you got through Dean’s heat without much trouble, in fact you enjoyed your time during them with him. It was the only time Dean would ever let his guard down and let you take care of him the way an Alpha should of their Omega.

This time though, it was different. The fever was a lot higher than usual. Dean was a lot more needy, and this heat was long, longer than his average anyway, and even Dean was getting frustrated.

As you lay on the bed next to him now, your knot still holding his body in place to your own, and your fingers brushing through his sweat dampened hair, you couldn’t help but notice how sad he looked. Honestly, it killed you. You wanted to make it better for him.

You’d reverse the roles if you could. You really would. You wouldn’t mind being an Omega, because in truth you hated being a female Alpha. There was no respect there as an Alpha, and it was tiring.

“You know, people are born the wrong genders. Males can sometimes identify as females and vice versa all the time. Do you think it’s possible to be born with the wrong presentation?” Dean asked, his voice low, as if he was ashamed of even thinking of the question.

You knew how Dean felt about his presentation, but you never would have guessed he would ask you that question, and for a moment it stumped you. Slowly, as to not hurt him, you withdrew his length from your body as your knot subsided, not bothering to get dressed because you knew he was going to need you again in less than an hour.

“Dean, I don’t know,” you told him honestly. “I mean, there’s a lot more than hormones and physical attributes that make up your presentation. It’s not as simple as a few operations and some hormone replacement therapy to change your biology. It’s something that’s part of you on a molecular level. I mean, what people who go through those types of changes is anything but easy, and they are damn brave for doing them, but as far as a presentation? I don’t know babe. That seems almost impossible.”

A high pitched whine escaped from his lips before he nuzzled deeper into your hair, and you couldn’t tell if it was his heat making him uncomfortable again, or if he was just that disappointed.

“If I ever found a way, would you still love me?” he asked, and you felt as if you had been kicked in the face. How could you not love him? He was a part of you. He was your everything, and if he found a way to change his presentation you wouldn’t love him any less if it made him happier. Hell, you’d love to change yours too! So how could he even ask you that question? What had you done wrong for him to think that?

“Dean,” you coo, coaxing him out of your neck where he was scenting you and forcing him to look at you.

You could see the Omega beneath was already crawling it’s way back towards the surface, and his cock was already twitching against your thigh, so you rolled him over on his back and start licking and kissing your way down his body until you reach his throbbing length, taking him in your hands and pumping him slowly before giving the tip a few kitten licks; reveling in the groan that fell from his lips.

“I’d love you no matter what presentation you would be. You know damn well I’d love to change mine if I could. How could I hate you. You’re mine. You were literally created for me, and whether I’m calling you Alpha, Omega or Beta makes no difference to me,” you tell him earnestly before taking his length as deep into your mouth as you could, sucking until he was clawing at the sheets beneigh thim.

“Fuck Alpha! Please! I need your knot,” Dean whimpered as he keened and arched into your touch as you licked your way up his torso to his lips, giving him a taste of himself as you captured his lips in yours before you sunk down on his ready length; swallowing up his little moans as you did .

“Gonna take good care of you Omega, and after this heat is over, we will see what we can do about that presentation problem. I promise.”

Dean's groans and grunts turned into a deep moan as you started to ride him earnestly, rising and falling on his cock at a faster pace with each passing minute. You ran your fingers over the pebbled skin of his chest as goose bumps arose with every wave of pleasure that racked through his body. God he was so beautiful, it was almost painful.

“You like that, baby,” you purred, leaning down long enough to run your tongue over his claiming mark, making him keen and grip your lips bruisingly. “Like the thought of me spread out real pretty for you, begging for your knot.”

“Fuck Alpha,” Dean cried, shuddering underneath you as you slowled your hips to an agonlizingly slowly roll over his, teasing him, and dragging out his release before your knot could lock you together again.

“Bet you do like that don’t you? Bet you would love to have fucking spread open on your knot, milking you and letting you fill me with your pups; calling me a good little Omega.”

Dean’s orgasm raced through his body as he cried out, his teeth sinking into your shoulder as your knot locked the two of you in place, and your own release made you breathless.

You helped Dean ride out his high, and when he fully came down, he slid the two of you on your sides so that you could lay there comfortably until you were able to release him.

“I love you Dean, I always will,” you promised him. “When this is over, I'll do everything in my power to fulfill my promise.”

Dean nuzzled into your hold, and you could feel his body instantly start to cool as his heat finally waned, allowing him to fall into an almost immediate sleep.

People should be identified by their genders, they should have the right to say when something feels off or different. Why should Dean and yourself be subjected to a biology that you don’t belong to.

There had to be a way, and you wouldn’t stop until you found it.

Forever Tags:

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ABO Dean fics:

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ABO Forever:

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