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bloodblanks · 1 month

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the cadence within [il dottore x reader] — prologue.

The quickest way to a man’s heart is through their fourth and fifth ribs. But few men would allow you to just skewer them like that, and Dottore was no exception. So you took the classic route. No, it wasn’t through his stomach; it was through sheer force of charisma alone. However, charisma is shaped like a double edged blade. Pantalone sent you to Dottore’s lab like a flying dagger, and not until it was too late did either of you realize you’d been lodged in his chest.

co-written with noodsies, however, they’re shy and wish to stay anonymous! ♡

author's note: this fanfiction will contain mature content, including explicit sexual acts, violence, dottore himself, and similar themes.

please read at your own discretion.

“Check,” you whispered.

Queen to C6 check, in response to white’s bishop checking on F3. Your D7 pawn guarded your queen, but your bishop was stuck in B8 while his king was vulnerable on A6. His only other piece was a knight on A4.

Did he blunder?

After placing down the chess piece, you glanced back towards him, your eyes searching his face for any readable signs or expressions. There were none, save for the hint of amusement that remained eternally etched into both his features and demeanour.

You mentally sighed. Dottore was as indecipherable as ever, leaving you confused about what to do with the nagging itch that tugged at your heart. You tried to push it aside, to dig a hole and bury the feeling six feet underground where it was never to resurface again, but you found yourself unable to. Instead, you found yourself caving into that emotion, the tension thickening the very air that now felt suffocating to breathe in, each of Dottore’s answers only leaving you with more questions to ask—none of which you should’ve paid any mind to, yet you still couldn't resist, barely holding yourself back from asking the one thing you really wanted to know.

You coughed softly, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“My turn,” you tried to steady your voice and sound as confident as possible, pushing past the dryness in your mouth. “Question nineteen, are you going to continue with your plan?”

It shouldn’t even matter. If you were being rational, you wouldn’t have bothered to ask that; whether or not he planned to continue should not affect your judgement in any way. He had done enough wrong as it is, committed far more crimes than could be excused or remotely justified.

Still, you couldn’t help but succumb to your own weakness, the question leaving your lips alongside a silent prayer that you hadn’t exposed your intentions—be it the one to put an end to him, or the far worse one, the one to give up on your original task. The task you should adhere to, despite your traitorous feelings wanting to get in the way. But you were not strong enough.

Dottore’s silence permitted you to keep ruminating over the same thoughts that had ceaselessly plagued you each time you faced him, the same thoughts that had insidiously grown in intensity throughout your interactions, leaving you to realize far too late that at some point, your actions towards him became genuine.

“Perhaps,” Dottore responded at last. You fought to keep your face neutral, trying your best to mask your disappointment at his answer. As much as you had wanted to, you were unable to deny that you had indeed wanted him to say ‘no.’

As shameful as it was, you pushed for a different answer.

“You’re supposed to answer yes or no,” you stated, keeping your tone light and indifferent.

How ludicrous, you thought. Your job was to pretend to be interested in him, yet here you were, desperately trying to act like you weren’t.

“Unfortunately, Y/N, I can’t do that,” Dottore replied. “The answer is dependent on certain variables.”

“Like what?”

“That’s not a yes or no question.” His face did not betray anything, yet you could hear the smirk in his voice, evident in the satisfaction he spoke with.

“But—”

“—My turn,” Dottore interrupted, and though you wanted to protest, you had to maintain an air of calmness, leaning back in your seat as you waited for him to speak.

“Question nineteen,” Dottore drew out each syllable with emphasis, “you are planning to kill me, aren’t you?”

His sentence caused you to freeze, a chill running down each ridge of your spine as you shivered, goosebumps breaking out over the surface of your skin, your hair standing on end as you stared at him, motionless, eyes wide.

That wasn’t a yes or no question. He knew. Dottore knew.

You didn’t need to see yourself to know that blood had drained from your face. There was no need for you to say anything; even if he hadn’t already known, your expression alone would be enough to confirm that everything he just said was true.

“Go on. Why don’t you answer me?” His voice was sharp enough to cut through the pounding of your heart, the pulsating of the organ reverberating in your eardrums being the only sound to muffle the deafening silence of the room.

“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Dottore continued. Though the syllables reached you, your mind struggled to process the meaning behind them. “Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

Dottore scoffed, indignant.

“I find it rather insulting that you think so lowly of me.”

“N-no,” you scrambled to find the right words. “I don’t—”

“—Is that so?” he said, cutting you off while clicking his tongue in mock disapproval. “Do you have a more plausible explanation for that gun strapped to your thigh, then?”

Your heart sank, his words the anchor that plunged it into the bottomless pit in your stomach. It felt like the life was drained from your body, rendering it an immobile marionette whose strings dangled from the tips of Dottore’s slender fingers. As if his words were coated in a paralyzing agent, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak further or move an inch. The only reminder that you were still alive was the harrowing thump of your pulse, each beat accelerating faster than the last.

How did he know?

For a split second you wondered if you’d been betrayed, but that was impossible. You had premeditated the perfect plan, meticulously memorized every step, and followed through with flawless execution.

With clandestine sleight, you acquired the perfect trump card—a gun loaded with bullets meant to destroy both visions and delusions. It was exactly what you needed to put an end to him, to put an end to this madness and absurdity. You’d be done with this once and for all. You’d have your old life back; exactly as it was before.

So how?

And what was more pressing than how, was the question of just what Dottore was planning to do with this knowledge. The urgency that question posed was unmatched by anything else, the answer pertaining to whether you would live or die.

You couldn’t help but wince, unable to conceal your expressions any longer. Dottore had seen through it all, seen through all your plans. You were dead, and you could only hope that your death would not be as unpleasant as some of the others by his hand. You knew what he was capable of, and you knew he was capable of far worse.

“I didn’t think so.” Dottore’s words were firm. Unwavering. And in those very seconds you were forced to accept the reality that you were going to die. This was the end.

“Go ahead,” Dottore said, slowly holding out his hands with both palms facing you. “Shoot me.”

What?

“I won’t stop you,” he finished his sentence. You were still gaping at him, but he was gazing back straight into your eyes, unflinching.

“Is this a joke?” you breathed, unable to comprehend what was just said to you.

“Is that your final question?” Dottore returned, his words somehow snapping you out of your daze and paralysis for a split second. You instinctively reacted by reaching to your thigh, pulling out the gun that you had prepared for this very moment and aiming it directly at him.

You tried to still the tremble of your hands as your index finger hooked onto the trigger, tensing it frozen so it wouldn’t pull.

A moment went by.

“Is that all?” Maybe you were imagining things. You had to be, but you couldn’t help but feel his eyes scan your face, searching for something.

Just what was he looking for? Could it be the same thing you sought?

“Allow me my final question, then.”

You couldn’t help but anticipate, that minuscule flame of hope, that lingering spark that refused to be snuffed out, flaring back to life.

“Sure.” Your voice was low, but you knew that he had heard you, nonetheless.

“Question...” Each second felt like it had been split up into millions, leaving you to experience time a microsecond at once. You were breathing heavily, your blood pulsating in your ears and adrenaline rushing through your veins. “...Twenty.”

“There is something stopping you, isn’t there?”

next chapter -> any interactions are appreciated (´･ω･`) thank you very much for supporting my work! ♡

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monsterfucktoberbingo · 8 months

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Monsterfucktober Bingo 2023

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baldursgat3 · 6 months

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Well I was bored so I did what everyone does and wrote a 3.5k word fanfiction and made a brand new blog to post it on. So.

Anyway that thing that Gortash did to his parents was pretty fucked up right? Oh hey Ascended Astarion what are you doing here?

gn Tav, cw for some allusions to some non-con-ish stuff, haven't even done an ascended run yet but it's fine also spawn Tav

He so rarely called on his ability to compel you, but you felt the sensation begin to creep at the back of your mind. It felt like a spider climbing up your brain stem to weave it's web inside your skull. "Astarion, please don't-" "You are going to watch and listen. Do you understand? You are going to learn what is expected of you. And until you have, you will be obedient and silent. Am I clear, my darling?" "Yes, my love."

It was only supposed to be temporary - a punishment for having escaped yet again. It didn't matter that you had every intention of returning as soon as the sun began to poke over the horizon, you had still found yourself cornered in the streets by your darling. The look of anger in his eyes only dampened by his annoyance.

"It's like you don't even try to listen to me, dearest." He had hissed, crowding you back against a wall. "Tell me how I'm supposed to keep you safe when you insist on sneaking around and frolicking off to the worst parts of the city in the dead of night."

"I'm sorry." You dropped your gaze to the ground. "I just- get so bored sometimes…" Maybe if you blame yourself, your own poor impulse control, maybe that would satisfy him.

Instead he just laughed. A short, almost incredulous chuckle. "Oh, you're bored. I see, well of course that's all right then. By all means, throw yourself to the wolves then, my love. Since you're bored."

He grabbed your hands in his, muttering a quick spell, and you were home. You watched as he opened his eyes again and his shoulders relaxed. You were here and safe beside him again and he could breathe once more.

But still, "This was the fourth time in less than a month. What do I have to do to make you understand?" Astarion's grip on your hands tightened.

"You could just let me go…" You mumbled bitterly before you could think any better of it. The instant the words escaped your mouth you had regretted them.

His eyes darkened and he pulled you in closer. He brought one hand up to wrap around the back of your neck, holding you firmly in place. "We are not having this discussion again. You know you belong here."

"But if you would just let me out once in a while I wouldn't-"

"It only takes once, don't you get that?" He hissed, his fangs bared. "One person, just like me. Hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike. Do you understand how high profile you are? Do you not see other nobility out with their guards? They don't prowl the dingiest taverns they can find for good reason, my love."

"I can handle myself!" You snapped back. He was already angry, you were already screwed, how much worse could you possibly make it?

You watched countless emotions fly across his face before irritation settled. Truthfully, not the worst possibility. "I know that you're strong and capable. But it's been years since either of us have lived that kind of life. Those skills don't just stay sharp, you know that. You can hold your own against one, maybe two people. But what happens when you're surrounded? And you're alone, I don't know where you are, I can't help you. Do you not understand that I'm trying to protect you?" He spoke, almost as though he was trying to rationalize with a child.

In his defense you did huff like one. "So I'm meant to stay locked up here forever because you're afraid?" That was the wrong word to choose. The annoyed look fell into anger as he pulled you in even tighter.

"Yes." It was short and filled with a venom that shot a wave of fear down your spine. He so rarely called on his ability to compel you, but you felt the sensation begin to creep at the back of your mind. It felt like a spider climbing up your brain stem to weave it's web inside your skull.

"Astarion, please don't-"

"You are going to watch and listen. Do you understand? You are going to learn what is expected of you. And until you have, you will be obedient and silent. Am I clear, my darling?"

"Yes, my love." Were the words that came out of your mouth. They certainly weren't the ones you were intending, though. What do you mean? What are you talking about? What are you doing? All questions that were desperately trying to escape, but none came.

His face softened as he pulled his hand away from your neck to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with a gentle smile. "There we are. I love you, you know? So much. I just… I don't know what I'd do without you."

~*~*~

For something you found so horrifying, Astarion was remarkably calm about what he'd done to you. "As irritating and, honestly, pathetic as he was, Gortash did manage to strike me with a touch of inspiration." He had explained as you helplessly smiled back at him.

"The magic he used against his parents was… clever, I'll say. It was terribly cruel of him to leave them like that, trapped in their own minds forever. You have to understand, that's not what I'm doing." He looked so sad, suddenly. He grabbed your hand in both of his and held tight and you felt your face drop to match his emotions.

"I love you. Please, trust me. You don't know this life like I do. You're so- so kind. So trusting and wonderful and lovely. And it's going to get you killed. This is only temporary. I can keep you safe like this while you learn what you need to. This life is politics and swindling and scheming. It's not heroics and good deeds. One day- one day I swear we'll go back but for now this is what must be done. Please just… just trust that I know what I'm doing. And that I love you."

You felt the cobwebs clear for a moment, brushed aside to give you a chance to speak again. He was giving you a choice, though you weren't entirely sure what either outcome was meant to be. You did trust him though, you loved him. And maybe he was right. You had no idea really what the life of this caliber was like. He had been of nobility his entire life. "I trust you."

You felt the cobwebs fill your head again as he smiled, so gently, so sweetly. So why did it make your stomach turn?

~*~*~

He never gave you any sort of timeline. You had expected it to take a few months though. He was training you, shaping you into the perfect little accessory to attach to his hip. It wasn't always horrible, especially at first when he would clear the cobwebs away at night to discuss how you were feeling and what you were learning.

It did feel a bit demeaning. He was your partner not your mother, after all. But you could tell how relaxed he was now that he wasn't worrying about you so much. And it was always easier to learn by doing, even if it wasn't technically you doing anything.

Still, you saw the way you responded to other nobles when they asked you things you had no clue about. Truthfully, you found yourself hoping Astarion might just do this for every big event you went to. The idea of trying to remember all of these names and titles and schemes was daunting. It'd be easier to keep him happy if he was practically speaking through you and it took a huge pressure off your shoulders.

It was when the people left that you began to have a problem. Even when it was just the two of you alone. He allowed the compulsion to drop less and less frequently. Some days you wondered if he'd forgotten it was there at all. You hated when he would spend his time talking with this fake perfect version of you.

Jealousy. It must be. And you felt so stupid for it too. It was still you, your voice and body. And, honestly, half the time the responses this fake you gave were the exact same ones you would've given anyway. So what did it matter so much?

It was frustrating not being able to control your own body. You missed being able to reach out and grab his hand whenever you wanted. There were a lot of things you missed. Most things, actually.

You missed kissing him. It's not that he didn't kiss you like this, or that you couldn't feel it. When he kissed you it just felt awful. Your stomach would churn and all you wanted to do was pull away. You honestly didn't even feel that terrible the time he had forgotten you were in there while you had sex. (Something he had apologized for profusely, long after you'd forgiven him.)

But the kisses were so tender and sweet and they were for someone who wasn't you. It was this fake you that he made for himself and you just couldn't stand it. Next time he dusted you off, you had made up your mind to ask him to stop.

If only you'd made that decision a touch sooner. It had already been over a week since you were last freed from your compulsion. As the days ticked by, you grew less and less confident that you would get the chance to ask.

It has been months already. You weren't entirely sure, but it must've been closing in on a year since he'd first started this project. It didn't feel like it but it was winter again so it must've been.

You kept hoping, every night when you went to bed you silently begged Astarion to hear you again, to let you out of your mind. He never seemed to hear you. Instead he would pepper you in kisses and speak to you like nothing was different.

Weeks turned to months. Every day that went by without being in control of your own body was beginning to take a toll on your mind.

Astarion's touch became less and less welcome until you wanted to shriek and tear at your own skin every time you felt him near you. You screamed and begged and agonized, hoping that if you could just yell loud enough maybe he would hear you.

He had forgotten about you. You became more and more certain with every evening spent on your back for him now. The first time he'd used you like that he was devastated. The idea that he'd had a change of heart was somehow even more crushing than being forgotten. You couldn't entertain that idea.

It made more sense that he'd forgotten you anyway. It had been so long, he'd gotten so used to you like this. He couldn't hear you screaming and thrashing inside your head. And when you were alone, he truly hadn't changed that much about you. Perhaps some of the comments you made were a touch closer to something he would say, but that really only served to push the real you further from his mind.

You had to accept it. You were trapped in your own mind, helpless against the man you adored. You were angry and frightened and so, so desperate to be free. It ached in your chest every time words that weren't yours escaped your lips. You raged every time you felt his touch on your skin. His kiss left you longing to tear out your hair and shriek until your throat burned.

You were truly, utterly helpless.

~*~*~

It was summer now. You were pretty sure, anyway. It was a bit hard to tell exactly when spring ended and summer began when you never saw the sun.

Astarion was hosting a rather large event that evening. You weren't entirely sure what it was for or why. You had stopped bothering to pay attention to these things once you realized it was no longer about learning how to engage with high brow politics. The you that had control would handle it anyway.

You were dressed in a lovely ball gown, a favorite of Astarion's. He liked the wide hoop skirt, it kept people from getting too close to you.

It was like any other stupid high end party. Food that was so decadent and rich you could barely eat any of it. Most of it would be thrown away. What a waste. One of the few thoughts you had as you essentially dissociated through the party.

Your body picked up a small hors d'oeuvre, delicately biting the bite sized snack in two. It was far too unbecoming to pop the entire thing into your mouth, despite it being shaped for exactly that.

"Any good?" A voice from behind you startled you and your false self out of your tiny food related thoughts.

The fake you recognized him first, as your mind still tried to bring the world back into focus. You felt yourself lunge forward, hoop skirt be damned, as you threw your arms around the person in front of you now. Somewhere in the back of your mind you found it extremely strange that fake you would be allowed to do such a thing.

When you finally pulled back, you were present enough to see who you were hugging and it, truthfully, made even less sense. "Gale!" You heard yourself as you bounced excitedly on the balls of your feet. "Why are you here?"

"Oh, it's a big event isn't it?" He grinned, patting you on the shoulder. "Should the famed Wizard of Waterdeep not receive such an illustrious invitation?" He laughed, taking a small step towards the food table. "No, Wyll was invited. He brought Karlach as a plus one. She told me and I pestered Astarion to invite the rest of us. He didn't tell you?"

That sounded about right. You couldn't help laughing. Gods you'd missed them all. "He didn't, but everyone else is here too?"

"Well, no. I got them an invite, that's the best I could do. Shadowheart and Halsin are around here somewhere. Who knows about anyone else." He said, filling up a plate with tiny snacks. A small part of you was happy at least someone was eating like a normal person.

"Come on then, and fill a plate for Karlach would you? I said I'd bring them all back something." Gale smiled back at you as he began filling another plate, presumably for Wyll.

"Have you seen Astarion yet?" Oh, that was a good question actually. At least fake you was thinking about your love.

Gale nodded, picking up the second plate. "He met us when we first got here. Honestly, I expected you to be with him. Barely had a moment to talk, though, before he got pulled away."

"Precisely why I'm not with him." You laughed, picking up the plate you'd made for Karlach. "An event like this is going to have him pulled twenty directions. I'm supposed to stay over here to watch over things but-" But? Fake you didn't argue with buts. How strange. The power of friendship perhaps? Or Astarion's attention being so split with such a large event was allowing even the perfect version of you he hand crafted to slip through the cracks. Either way, you weren't arguing. "Well, it'll be fine to slip away for a moment." Strange.

You followed Gale back to where Wyll and Karlach were standing just a bit too close as they chatted. They were both dressed to the nines, Wyll in a well fitted suit with a short, ornamental cape draped over one shoulder. Karlach was putting him to shame though, in a floor length strapless dress with a slit that traveled halfway up her thigh. You'd never taken Karlach for a dress person and, watching the way she awkwardly moved in it, you'd assume you were right. That didn't stop anyone with eyes from stopping and staring as she walked by. You even found your own gaze lingering a bit too long. Very strange.

"Hey, soldier!" Her voice rang out loud and clear as soon as she spotted you. Before you knew it, you were wrapped in her arms and lifted off the floor with ease. You couldn't help laughing as you carefully tried to keep the plate of food balanced.

Your skirt swished back into place as she set you down, beaming at you. "It's been way too long. Just because you can't go out in the sun doesn't mean Astarion has to lock you away in the dungeon." She laughed again. If only she knew.

"I was surprised I even got an invite." Wyll chuckled, stepping closer. "I don't play his political games, but I'm happy to enjoy some good food with some old friends." Gods he was so sweet. If you didn't know just how genuinely he meant it, you wouldn't trust him.

"Well, I'm certainly happy to see all of you!" It's been so lonely cooped up in here, I've missed you so much. Your lungs longed to scream out to them, to beg them for help.

It was enough they'd taken you away from your post, you knew it was too much to ask for your voice to break through as well. It didn't stop you from wishing with your whole heart for your friends to hear you.

Instead, you had a pleasant conversation about what they've all been up to. Stories of the adventures Karlach and Wyll had been on, an anecdote about Tara that made everyone laugh. Halsin and, later, Shadowheart found their way into the circle, bringing their own stories. It would've been lovely were you not begging to be heard.

Karlach noticed first, of course she did. You saw it happen. You weren't sure what did it exactly but, as you were speaking, you saw her brow knit together. She watched you a bit closer. Fake you must've noticed as well, you felt yourself straighten up a bit more, talk a bit gentler.

It wasn't enough, she'd clocked something and now she was watching. The conversation shifted away from you but her gaze lingered. The you in control longed for her to look away, while the real you screamed for her attention. I'm here, please see me, gods please hear me!

You felt her watching you for at least ten minutes before she leaned in to whisper something to Gale. Oh gods, now he was watching you like a hawk. They both knew something was wrong but they couldn't tell what.

If you hadn't been watching them, you would've missed the small hand gesture and whispered incantation from the wizard. You didn't feel anything but clearly he didn't get what he wanted.

Then you felt it. A small tingling sensation in your head then, suddenly, it was as though the doors to your mind had been thrown open and you felt yourself recoil as though sunlight was pouring in. He was digging into your thoughts.

"Gale!?" You called out desperately in your head, watching as he blinked in shock. The gentle, practiced smile that remained stuck on your face completely opposed to the desperation he heard in your voice.

"Are you all right?" He asked, out loud, much to everyone else's confusion. Particularly Halsin's, who had been actively speaking when Gale interrupted.

"Gale, please! You can hear me?" Your mind screamed.

"Oh, me? Oh, I'm fine." Your mouth replied.

"I can hear you. What's going on?" Gale pressed forward, ignoring the questioning looks he received.

"Um, Gale-" Wyll had started but the wizard was disinterested in interrupting whatever connection he had with you right now.

"Gale, gods, Gale." What could you even say? You had to say something. But how could you explain this? You knew they all disapproved of the way Astarion kept you squirreled away but they never argued because you were both happy and it really wasn't exactly their business. But this? This was different. This was… well. Fucked up.

He was smart though. It didn't exactly take much to put two and two together. Two different answers, two different versions of his dear friend. "What happened? Does Astarion know about this?"

You would've flinched had you been in control of your body. "Really, Gale, I'm all right, I'm not sure what you're talking about." You still smiled warmly.

"He- he's the one who did this but-!" You panicked as you watched a darkness take over Gale's face.

"Okay, does anyone know what's going on right now?" Wyll tried to interject again, only to be met with a misdirected scowl from Gale.

"It would seem our resident vampire lord has gone a bit too far." He practically spat. He had never been overly fond of your relationship in the first place. You were never sure but Astarion was certain it was jealousy - partially why you were so surprised to see Gale had been invited at all.

"Use your words, Elminster." Karlach folded her arms, already impatient to know what was happening.

Gale turned back to you as his anger turned towards sadness. "I don't know how, but he's puppeting them. This-" He waved a hand at your calm, relaxed smile. "This is all fake. I can hear them, they're trapped in there."

"Gale, please, don't get angry, please." You were trying to do damage control now. You didn't want this to break bad for Astarion, you just wanted to be let out. "I- I just think he might've forgotten me, if you just-"

"Forgot you!? What do you mean forgot you? How long have you been in there?"

"Gale! Please don't cause a fuss, please. This- this doesn't have to affect the night. He just needs a reminder, that's all, it's all right."

"How long."

"I… I don't know. Over a year…" You knew saying that would be a bad idea. The rage took over his face again, while the rest of your companions watched with varying levels of confusion.

"Over a year." His voice was flat, his typical affectations and charming cadence gone. "Would someone be so kind as to request the presence of Lord Ancunín? I think we need to have quite the conversation."

#bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion #sorry fkdjskdjdkfhsl

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nartml · 3 days

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To Pimp a Butterfly and 1989: a rant

Listen here, three things about me are that I'm a) white as snow, b) Greek, c) still a minor.

What does this mean? It means that I obviously wasn't raised with hip-hop, and I got into Kendrick Lamar's music pretty late.

As in, early this year.

I've known of him for some time, and the moment I found out he had a Pulitzer prize at some point in late-ish 2023, I decided I had to sit my ass down and pull out Spotify.

Now, as an avid reader of both fanfiction (ao3 raised me) and books [I feel the immense need to clarify that I don't associate myself with mainstream booktok. Capitalism's consumerism has overrun that shit and all I see are the same 20 books being recycled and recommended (a substantial amount of those are Colleen Hoover and her variants). Tropes and spice* are officially the defining factors of whether a book is worth it (*your porn addiction ain't cute) and quantity is heavily prioritized at the expense of quality. Also, diversity who?], I was, for a lack of a better word, hyped.

A Pulitzer prize is nothing to scoff at in general, more so in music, more so in hip-hop.

(Edit: Upon quick reflection, I realize that putting emphasis on hip-hop can come across as coded.

I am in no way, shape, or form trying to undermine hip-hop or say that it's somehow less 'sophisticated' than, for example, classical music. I'm very aware of the amount of skill and technique one needs to write a masterful hip-hop album, and I'm not doubting that there are hip-hop artists out there who are also incredibly deserving of such a prize. I meant it in the sense that I've unfortunately never heard of another hip-hop artist who won a Pulitzer before, which is quite telling.)

That's some huge shit, and I'd be a fool not to be intrigued.

Admittedly, I didn't get on that immediately. For a while I procrastinated, because I wasn't in the mood to hyper-fixate on anything new just yet.

Which of course meant I ended up forgetting about it for a few months, because of course I did.

But then I came across a TikTok that talked about how it was insane that '1989' won the Grammy when To Pimp a Butterfly was right there.

Now, a fourth thing about me is that I don't fuck with Taylor Swift.

And a fifth thing about me is that I'm not baseless in anything that I do, say or feel, and that includes annoyance.

Her immature understanding of activism and feminism leaves a bad taste in my mouth. The way she built up her fan base around this portrayal of her as a relatable girl's girl, her refusal to accept criticism, and always making a victim out of herself (even now when she's in her thirties and is a fucking billionaire) while never using her position of power and privilege for good are all reasons that serve to fuel my dispassionate dislike.

And before any Swifties get on my ass, no, I don't think that "But she's a singer! Why are you expecting so much out of her, she isn't even qualified to speak on XYZ—" is a good enough excuse.

She has always been rich, and now she's a billionaire. There are no ethical billionaires, and that includes her.

Fame is influence is power. Uncle Ben said it all: With great power comes great responsibility.

And let me tell you, I don't see her owning up to that responsibility, especially after all that talk about how she supports women, supports the LGBTQ community, and supports the BLM movement. Has she ever actually put her abundant money where her mouth is?

I've never seen her speak about anything that doesn't immediately concern her.

Don't get me wrong. She's not the only celebrity like this out there. I'm sure there are worse cases. I know it for a fact.

To wrap this segment up before I get even more sidetracked, I'll outright state that I don't hate her, because hating her would by definition mean that I, in some way, actually care about her, and that just sounds exhausting.

Best way to describe me is indifferent, leaning towards distasteful.

She's annoying.

And that's how I feel about both her as a person and her as an artist.

I'm not denying her talent, nor her impact on the industry, nor the fact that she does have good songs that even I like.

A select few, of course, but still.

Apart from those...what? Ten songs? I have never, ever been able to listen to any other song of her's all the way through.

I get bored. They do nothing for me. They sound empty. Hollow. Plastic. Repetitive.

Her lyrics, that are praised by fans for being deep and complex, sound pretty surface level to me.

Not all of them. But I'm a sucker for analysis. A literature nerd. Greek is my native language. I can tell when something's deep and when something wants to be deep.

(Not necessarily including Folklore and Evermore in that category. Her storytelling ability is actually great.)

Her music largely sounds like it wants to be deep.

Most recent example being her latest release, The Tortured Poets Department.

Anyway, back to Kendrick.

My initial plan was to listen to 'DAMN.' first, because that's what he won the Pulitzer for in the first place.

There was a change of plans after that TikTok.

I decided to compare the opening tacks.

I put on Welcome to New York, and predictably, I felt nothing.

The rhythm is dance-y, I suppose. But there's nothing substantial about it. There's nothing exciting about it.

The lyrics are juvenile, and I get it, it's a pop song and she was in her twenties.

Nobody is expecting Shakespeare (no matter how much you scream or kick your feet, the only reason Shakespeare couldn't write Taylor Swift is because he's in another league entirely) or Odysseus Elytis. Nobody is expecting mind-blowing lyricism.

But it's the opening track to an apparently Grammy-worthy album. The very least I'd expect from it would be some additional levels of artistry.

Am I being harsh? Probably. Do I care? No.

Disappointed but unsurprised, I put on Wesley's Theory.

I ascended within the first minute.

Don't get it twisted, I barely understood shit.

Not only am I white, I am also entirely removed from America and its culture as a whole. I don't know what's going on there in y'all's daily lives.

And this was baby's first proper introduction to hip-hop as a whole.

My untrained, white-ass ear barely caught two references. I got what the gist of the song was about, and that's about it.

I had to look up analyses of the track to fully grasp what Kendrick was on about, and even then, there was obviously still a disconnect.

And I expected all of that.

I didn't expect to get hooked on that song within the first listen.

I swear to fuck, the beat is addictive. I swear to fuck, even when I was fighting to understand what the lyrics were referencing, I was having the time of my life.

Even I, an amateur in every sense of the word, could tell that there was depth and there was quality and there was intentional meaning in every line of that song.

It didn't matter that I couldn't understand it. It mattered that I knew it was there. Not because someone told me that was the case. But because it was audible.

I listened to the next track. And the one after that. And the one after that. I had listened to all of the tracks, before I knew it.

And the evident permeance of quality, of substance, carried on throughout the whole album.

It had exactly the type of lyricism I'd expect a Grammy-worthy album to have. It had exactly the amount of artistry I expected a Grammy-worthy album to have.

Even better, it had all the ingredients I expected a timeless album to have.

The poetry Taylor Swift fans insist hides in her discography, I found in plain sight within Kendrick Lamar's.

After meticulously reading the lyrics, I watched video essay after video essay, searched for analysis after analysis on this album, each time understanding the meanings behind it a little better.

Needless to say that the Grammy's are rigged and I love Kendrick Lamar.

Hip-hop is gorgeous.

#tpab #to pimp a butterfly #kendrick lamar #he's awesome #hip hop #1989 #taylor swift #just to be safe #anti taylor swift

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ramim · 7 months

Text

Of James and Severus; a testament of bullies:

Often in the fandom, it's brought up that James Potter was a bully and Severus Snape was the victim; nowadays it is a popular view. Which I agree and disagree to; so let's have some thoughts about who was the actual bully, who should we forgive and who was the victim! Have it in mind that my sources are books and I don't care about the movies, the fanfictions and the fandom's headcanons! Only book facts.

Here we go:

James Potter:

James Potter was a bully in his teenage years, there is no discussion in that; he often spelled and jinxed other students with no obvious reason whatsoever! We know James Potter was a bully not only from Snape's memory but also from Sirius's confirmation about it. So it's proven to all of us. But we also know that he had grown out of it in his six_seventh year in hogwarts. He then joined the order of phoenix and started fighting Voldemort (the biggest bully of all times). He fought Voldemort three times and he died the fourth time. James Potter died a hero.

These above were facts! Now:

James Potter was never a racist (in the concept of magical world, centaurs, werewolves and merpeople are race) , his friendship with Remus Lupin and his love for Lily Evans shows us that he never had any care for blood status or the nonsenses about werewolves; james potter was never mean toward anyone because who or what they were, he generally was mean, but also he was nice, since most people liked him!

James potter was not evil in any major way; he never tried to kill anyone, torture anyone, unreservedly hurt anyone or things like that.

When the time came and adulthood arrived, he became a responsible man; he never treated people the way he used to and the ones who remember him, remember him as a good man, brave and all.

His hatred for Severus Snape was always there, ever since the first year for two reason: 1) Lily's relationship with Severus; 2) Severus inclination toward dark magic...but are these to good reason to be a bully? No!

But was he a bully toward Severus in particular? My answer is...no! Because we have it as a fact that Severus as well missed no chance to spell or jinx James Potter! Bullying is not a two_sided relationship and if two people of opposite side are doing it, then it's not bullying, it's rivalry.

Have it in mind that I'm not saying james wasn't a bully! I'm saying he wasn't a bully to Severus Snape. Because they did it to eachother.

James potter never bullied again; he grew out of it. He fought for freedom and for people who was born from non-magical families. He did it even if it risked his own family.

James potter died a hero; it doesn't magically erase all the wrong he did, but he also did some good! So...

Severus Snape

Severus snape was also a bully! But from a very different background. He was the only son of a poor family which in he never saw or felt love and loved! He was a part of a racist group in school who all believe in blood supermacy, he himself only considered Lily Potter an exception; but had no qualms considering the rest of muggle-borns, mudbloods! afterwards even though Lily potter was his friend once, he joined Voldemort! The very person whose whole ideal world was based on oppression and murder against muggle-borns and those with impure blood. He then informed Voldemort of a prophecy which directly lead to the death of Lily and James Potter. Afterwards he regretted his actions and joined the order of phoenix, working for them as a spy. He saved harry's life in more than one occasion. And he died a hero.

These all above are facts; now:

Even though the fandom doesn't like to believe, Severus snape was a bully! He was in group of bullies at school who all joined Voldemort afterwards and he himself did the same.

Severus Snape was also a purist and a racist! He believed in blood supremacy untill it came back and bit him in the ass

He was also a very smart person with a brilliant mind, he was one of Voldemort trusted men and believed in the guy to the point that he informed the dark lord about the prophecy the moment he saw a treat to his lord's reign of terror!

He never cared about other people who might have gotten hurt because of his actions, he never cared untill someone he cared about got hurt because of his actions (which was foreseeable considering Lily was muggle-born)

Severus Snape never stopped being a bully. He later continued bullying children who were his students; he bullied Neville Longbottom nonstop and help the other Slytherins such as Malfoy bully the poor kid even further.

He often mocked and humiliate children like Hermione Granger with no regret and he would often side with the other bullies such as Malfoy!

After hearing the prophecy, he knew that Lord Voldemort will pursue the family who were going to be his demise! He knew that the boy in prophecy would be a one-year-old baby; but he informed Voldemort anyway! He didn't care that an innocent child would end up dead!

After realising the child in prophecy was harry potter and not Neville Longbottom, he only asked Voldemort to spare Lily's life (which Voldemort tried to do before trying to kill Harry, he gave Lily a chance to live, she didn't take it) but Severus never cared that how Lily would feel after losing her husband and child!

Severus Snape hatred toward Neville Longbottom was because it could be the Longbottoms and not Potters That were targeted by Voldemort! And that's...fucked up!

Severus Snape later risked his life to protect harry and ultimately kill Voldemort; was it because any higher cause? No! He felt guilty for his part in Lily's death and he wanted revenge against Voldemort.

He worked as a spy for the order, he then became Dumbledore trusted man and then he was killed by Voldemort so Voldemort could gain the ownership of the elder wand

Severus Snape was a bully, never stopped being a bully, never cared for anything out of his own feelings and his own regrets. He died a hero, but does it magically erase all the thing he did? No!

Severus Snape was not a good person, he was a gray character. Yes he was played by Alan Rickman, a very good actor who I loved but just because he was played by a loveable actor, doesn't mean he was good and nice and oh such a sweet innocent baby!

It is a simple matter.

Between a teenage bully who later grew out of it and started fighting for a good cause and teenage bully who later became a part of a terrorist organisation and then became a grown adult who liked to bully children and never actually cared for the life of others; the choice is obvious.

James Potter had always been a better man.

And it is a fact.

P.s: To all the angry people, I said what I said and I meant it😂 not gonna answer anything because it's obvious, the rest is up to you.

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naloya-cuke · 6 months

Text

It seems to me that all these confirmations and denials about whether Nandermo will be canon or not are just flirting with the audience to stir up interest in the series. I can't believe that after all these numerous hints of love between Guillermo and his "boss", the creators of the series will not take this arc to its logical conclusion (a kiss, a confession or something). In any case, if the show lasts more than six seasons, then I'm ready to eat as many crumbs as it takes, I'm ready to wait a hundred years for the canonization of Nandermo, because I like the series as a whole. If it ends in the sixth season, it's going to be a little sad because I love this universe, I like all these talented actors, their great acting, I like the humor, I like the atmosphere... If the creators of the series throw in all these refutations because they want to extend the series, then I'm even happy about it. But if they think that Nandermo fans watch wwdits just to see Guillermo and Nandor kiss or fuck, then they're wrong. In fact, if it happened in the fourth or fifth season, I would still be interested in watching the show, because I'm interested in the development of relationships, not pornography. Knowing this show, I would be so happy if they just told each other that they love each other or if they hugged at least once. Why create such a crushing tension between the characters if there is no logical discharge?

In general, I don't want the sixth season to be the last. If Nandermo doesn't happen, I have fanfiction and fanart from a lot of talented people on the internet. I love this series no matter what.

#nandermo #wwdits #what we do in the shadows #Paul Simms what are you trying to achievе #i dont care #I still love the series itself #although nandermo seems logical to me because dude just look at them they're gay for each other so much #srry for my english #im cryin

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formulafics · 2 months

Note

Hi there! I just wanted to come on here and say firstly I love your fics so much like they are amazingly good and also wanted to say keep up the good work :)

And secondly what tips would you give someone who wants to make their own smau?

And I hope you are having a good day/night ❤️❤️

A fic writers guide to figuring out how to create your own smau’s, and not lose your mind doing it!

A/N: Hi! Thank you so much, I appreciate it 🥹🫶🏻 Also, i’m sorry it’s taken me a while to answer you! <3 Since I get asked this quite a bit, I went ahead and made an ‘official’ post for it. You can ask any other questions in the comment, or through my ask box!

First and foremost, I’ve made a few posts about this, and as I always say, i’m still figuring it out myself, so take this advice lightly, as you may not agree with all of it as you make your own works! This is solely from my experiences as someone who’s been writing and making fanfictions for at least 4 years.

✎ ✐ CREATING SMAU’S 📱

This account is the first account i’ve made Social Media au’s on! Therefore, i’ve only been doing these for a little over 4 months.

My first tip is to play around with your layout! When you read smau’s, i’m sure you notice that almost every fic has a different look. There’s no right or wrong way to do it, just mess with it until you find what you like!

My second tip is to use whatever app your creating in the fic as reference. What I mean is, even though I do not use twitter, I have it downloaded so I can look at tweets and the responses, in an attempt to mirror that in my works! Same goes for instagram, and any other social media app you use! I also use the profile pictures that the drivers have by looking at their pages, as well as what other drivers/celebs like their posts.

Add on to the second tip: While I suggest doing that, It is up to you! Youre creating a fictional story and if you’d rather take the likes and responses into your own hands, that’s okay! That’s a part of learning what you like, but I added it as it’s something that I personally find incredibly helpful at times.

My third tip, and possibly my most important one is to have. a. layout. Fanfictions, for me, are so much easier to create when I take the time to lay it all out! You can either make a draft on Tumblr or use your notes app to just make bullet points of the order your story should go. It doesn’t have to be perfect, but it’s genuinely so helpful in allowing you to keep track of your story, as well as not missing any of the points you want in your fic! I find that if I make a smau without a layout, there are often small mistakes that I only notice after it’s posted, and while it’s not that bad, It’s still much more satisfying to not have those mistakes.

My fourth tip is working smarter not harder. That’s not to say that if you don’t use these things, you’re not smart - in fact, to any smau creators that edit everything themselves instead of using a generator, mad props to you. However, if you’re interested in the generator, I use it for my twitter posts! I also added some other apps I use when creating my fics.

⌕ TWITTER GENERATOR LINK

-> used to create my twitter threads

⌕ COPY AND PAST SYMBOLS

-> symbols used in my fics, and to decorate my blog!

my symbol archive: © ★ ❀ ⋆ ⤷ ⤻ ⌕ ⌇ ⌗ ✎ ✐

⌕ PICSART

-> used to crop pictures, add filters to them, as well as the border you see on my tweets! it’s free (with some restrictions if you don’t pay), but still has a good selection of ways to edit.

⌕ PHONTO

-> the best phont app i’ve come across. used to create my header and any pictures you see with words on them, such as the header for this here post!

⌕ CANVA

-> i don’t use this one a ton, mostly because i forget about it, but it’s incredibly helpful for creating magazine esque covers, and i usually would use it for adding an article to my fic!

My fifth tip is to not worry about the length of your smau. It doesn’t matter if your fic is one instagram post or 20 of them, just do what you want to do, and what you enjoy doing!

Other than that, I honestly don’t have many tips! Just take your time, use inspo when needed, and have fun with it. At the end of the day, people just enjoy having more content of their favorite drivers!

✎ ✐ WRITING FANFICTION 💻

While I have yet to write full fanfictions on this account, a majority of my time in the fanfiction universe has been spent writing, so here are some tips for that, if anyone wants them!

1. Take your time: It’s so easy to get into the “I just want this done” mindset, but that is not helpful at all! It’s important to try and remember that there’s no deadline for you to complete your works. Slow and steady wins the race. I once wrote a 15k word fanfiction and it took me over two weeks, and even then, I tried to rush it, and that gave me MAJOR burn out. In fact, after that fic, I deactivated the account I had, and took a long break from something I enjoy, writing.

2. Use inspiration to your advantage: Even if you already have a good plot and layout for your story, it never hurts to find pictures and prompts that you can include. Take the time to understand the overall vibe/concept of your plot, then take to tumblr to try and find some pictures that fit it! This can also help motivate you when you’re feeling writers block.

3. As with the smau’s, have a layout. When I write fics, especially long, in depth pieces, I like to break the plot apart and write in portions, then add it together at the end, rather than one straight shot for the whole thing! I hate when i’m in the middle of a story and realize I completely missed a certain scenario I wanted to have in the fic, or when I forgot to emphasize something.

And those are all of the big tips I have for writing!

✎ ✐ THE MENTAL ASPECT 🧠

While writing and creating fanfiction is fun, and can be a stress reliever, it can also be a stress inducing activity, especially when you run an account doing it. As someone with ADHD, and a chronic overthinker, I have tendencies to stress myself out with a number of things, so here are some tips on avoiding that.

First, remember that this is a hobby. This is supposed to be fun, so if you aren’t having fun, consider stepping back. Try to determine why you’re not enjoying it, and go from there.

“I feel overwhelmed with requests.” Almost anyone who writes fanfiction has likely been here - so, know you aren’t alone. When requests start overwhelming you, I would suggest to close them, then take a break from them! Remember that they are requests, not requirements. If you don’t like an idea or aren’t motivated to write it, do not write it. As much as it can suck to have to deny a request or put it on the back burner, it’s not worth forfeiting something you enjoy.

“I just don’t know how to write/create this” That’s okay! Like almost anything in life, it’s a process of learning. Yes, it’s frustrating, but try to remember that this will probably teach you something that will be helpful in the future! If you do not want to take a break, consider looking at prompts and inspiration for your story. Take the time to reflect on your original plot or idea, and either try to change things, or add things that help your idea come together. Also know that if you’re struggling with ideas, many fic writers are probably willing to help you out! While I can’t speak for everyone, i’m more than happy to help.

“I want to write, but at the same time, I don’t enjoy it that much.” This is a feeling that you either understand or don’t, and it’s a good thing if you don’t, but is completely okay if you do! This is a sign of burnout or writers block, and unfortunately, many of us go through it. Like any other hobby, when you do it for an extended period of time, or hyperfixate on it all the time, you may find that you want to do it, but can’t enjoy it. Time should fix this, but you can also reach out to other writers, or even those who read your work! When this happens, either take a step back to remind yourself why you enjoy writing, or take on a new idea, with no commitment. Just write something that comes to your mind, and hopefully it’ll allow you to unclog your brain. (That sounds kind of mean, but I don’t mean for it to lmao.)

Secondly, if you can have a friend or mutual that will help build on your ideas, that is so incredibly helpful. Even if said person is just there to provide some prompts or pictures when you need it, it’s a life saver. That being said, I know not everyone just has this, so the least I can offer is my own inbox and dms.

Huge shoutout to @renarots. I’m sure by now you guys are used to me mentioning her in my fics, but she truly truly has helped me so so much and I cannot imagine making these fics without them. 🥹❤️ And also they’re one of the best friends i’ve ever had, echo chamber aside.

Lastly, write whatever the fuck you want to write. Fanfiction is a world of its own. There’s room for any and everything. As long as you aren’t being downright offensive and harmful, write whatever it is you’d like to, because there is bound to be a number of people who absolutely cherish your work. That’s part of the beauty of this app.

#i fucking love yapping #dae’s yapping 🗣️#writing tips #social media au #tips for writers

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joka13 · 10 months

Text

FANFICTION: Weasley Twins x Reader (Slytherin Girl) - Part 17

WARNINGS: British swearing, crying

You're surprised to see as many people as you do gathered inside Hog's Head. It's a small crowd, but you still had only expected six or seven people to show up. You count about ten, not including George, Fred, yourself, Ron, Hermione, and Harry. The three of you settle in at the back, and Ron joins Harry and Hermione at the front.

Just as Hermione had mentioned, Harry proposes to the group of students the idea of setting up a sort of Defense Against the Dark Arts club. You're only half interested in the thought until Hermione pipes up and says that Harry would be the club's teacher, seeing as how he's had plenty of personal experience dealing with the dark arts.

"You should have said that in the first place," George snorts loudly so everyone can hear. The entire crowd looks toward the back. "Count me in!"

Standing off to the right end of the group, a pretty girl with uncommonly pale skin meets your gaze. She glances down at the green and grey scarf wrapped around your neck, then leans over to the boy next to her and whispers something in his ear. You recognize him as a fourth year Ravenclaw, though you don't know his name. He acknowledges your scarf too, and his eyes narrow. You quickly grow very self conscious as you realize that you are the only Slytherin in the room.

Fred nods. "Same here. I imagine I'd learn more from Harry than I have from all of my past Defense Against the Dark Arts teachers combined." Many of the students seem to consider and approve of the twins' opinion. You see Harry, who's obviously flattered, trying not to smile. Hermione and Ron appear happy as well.

"Well, anyone who's interested in joining may sign their name here," Hermione says, gesturing to a piece of parchment paper that lies next to a bottle of ink and quill on a nearby table. There's a moment of silent hesitation.

"Oh, for Peter's sake!" Fred and George groan in unison. You notice Ron shoot them a warning look at the mention of the name "Peter".

You stay behind and watch as Fred and George make their way through the small crowd of students. You smile to yourself in amusement. Their exceeding height and bright red hair in this dimly lit room reminds you of torches. Fred and George take turns confidently signing the paper, and soon the rest of the group starts to follow suit.

You go to get in line, but are stopped in your tracks when a cold hand tugs on your arm. You turn around to see the Ravenclaw boy.

"Can I help you?" you ask politely, gently smiling. You're pretty sure you know what he's on about, and you don't want any trouble.

The boy doesn't return the gesture, but tightens his grip on your arm instead. "What do you think you're doing here?" he asks demandingly.

Your smile disappears. You know you're not in the wrong, so you reply with honesty and bluntness. "I plan to sign this paper here. Just like you."

"And how do we know we can trust you?" the boy sneers. "How do we know you're not—"

He's interrupted when someone pushes themselves between you two. The boy let's go and you step back, rubbing your sore arm.

"Is there a problem?" It's George. He now faces the boy with his back to you protectively.

"As a matter of fact, there is," the boy replies shakily, struggling to keep his cool. "I don't think we should trust this girl..."

"And why the bloody hell not?" George growls. He stands up to his full height intimidatingly. You notice the commotion is beginning to draw the attention of other people.

"Because, in case you haven't noticed, she's a Slytherin!" the boy exclaims as he takes a step back fearfully, bumping into Fred who is suddenly standing behind him. The boy swivels around in a panic.

"What's wrong with that?" Fred asks, smiling in a way that seems to say, "I dare you to keep talking".

Whether or not he means to, the boy remains speechless. He looks frantically back and forth between the twins.

"I don't see the issue here," says George, stepping back and folding his arms after a long moment of tense silence.

Fred mimics his actions. "Me neither."

They're giving the boy a chance to walk away.

And so he wisely does. The crowd parts for the Ravenclaw boy as he walks across the room, staring at the floor as he does, and exits through the front door.

Then every eye in the room falls on you. In the moment, all you want to do is get out of there. So, without saying anything or thinking twice, you leave also.

After all the fuss at Hog's Head, you decide you've had enough of Hogsmeade for the day. Right as you come to the dirt path that connects Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, you hear one of the twins call your name from a far distance behind you. You stop and turn around slowly, not sure you want to talk to anyone right now, even the twins. They quickly catch up to you.

"Are you alright?" Fred pants, coming to a halt in front of you.

George jogs up next to him. "Did I overreact?" He wears a nervous expression. "I'm real sorry if I did..."

You try to smile, but then burst into tears.

Taken aback, Fred and George stand frozen in place, watching you with wide eyes. You turn away in embarrassment and put your face in your hands as you continue to sob.

You feel absolutely retched. The day had been going so nicely. Just you and the twins. That's all you wanted! And then the stupid meeting got in the way. And that boy! Oh, that Ravenclaw boy...! But you shouldn't be mad at him. He was only saying what everyone else was thinking. A Slytherin. That's what you are. A sneaky, selfish, lying, little Slytherin. Why should anyone trust you? You'd only backstab them the first chance you got... because you're a Slytherin...

You are startled when two pairs of arms gently wrap around you. They hug and hold you, and you let yourself melt into their embrace. You don't even bother trying to hold yourself up. They support your weight so you can just sob. You sob and sob. But it's alright. You are alright. They're both here. Fred. George. Fred and George Weasley. They are here with you, for you, and that's all that matters...

You have no idea how long the three of you stand there, but the sky has darkened considerably by the time you stop crying. You stand up straight and the twins pull away from you slowly.

You sniff, then chuckle gingerly as you wipe away the snot and tears from your face. You must look a mess now, so you're grateful it's dark out.

"Thanks," you sniff again.

"Don't mention it," they say together softly.

"And..." You take in a deep, shuttering breath. "Thanks for being some of the only people who bother with me... even if it's only for my smarts. It sometimes feels like nobody wants me. I'm a traitor to the Slytherins, and everyone else hates me for being a Slytherin!"

There's a pause in which you really hear the sound of the crickets chirping around you for the first time.

"You're more than a... an assistant or a helper to us now, y/n," Fred says, or you at least think it's Fred. It's too dark to make out the details on either of the twins' faces.

"You're our friend," the other twin (possibly George) says. "You're not a bother."

An appreciative warmth fills you. You smile. "I'm glad." You take a moment to gaze up at the beautiful, crescent moon sitting amongst an endless number of twinkling stars in the night sky. You sigh comfortably, then take out your wand to light the path back to Hogwarts. You start walking and the twins silently move to walk with you, (now you can see) George on your left and Fred on your right.

"By the way," Fred says after a quiet moment. "I, for one, like that you're in Slytherin."

The comment surprises you, and you laugh. "And why is that?"

"I do, too," says George. "It's sort of..." His voice trails off.

"Sexy," Fred finishes for him, nodding his eyebrows at you. You burst out laughing.

"I wasn't sure I should say it out loud," George laughs.

"Is that all?" you ask, still giggling.

"Yep. That's it. That's the only reason," Fred snickers.

"The qualities you have that got you into Slytherin are admirable... Or they are to us at least," chuckles George.

You snort. "Thanks... I guess?"

"Well, you know us!" Fred defends. "We can only dream of ever being half as skilled as you are in the ways of mischief!"

"What?" You laugh. "That's quite a compliment coming from you!"

"Don't get us wrong, we are pretty good at it," George chuckles. "And we do it more often, but it took longer for us to learn. It comes to you naturally."

You shrug your shoulders. "If you say so."

"It's true! I still can't believe how you've managed to make it all the way from the Slytherin common room to Gryffindor tower almost every night since we've met without getting caught!" George exclaims.

"A truly impressive feat," Fred agrees.

"I will admit I'm rather proud of that," you chuckle.

The three of you finally reach the castle. You enter the building and a wave of relief washes over you. It feels good to be back. It's been a long and emotional day. You're tired, and your feet hurt after walking around Hogsmeade for hours.

The twins start to head for the Great Hall, but you don't follow. They stop and turn around when they realize you're not with them.

"Aren't you hungry?" George asks.

"I am, but I'm more tired," you reply. "I think I'll head to bed."

"Oh. Then let us walk with you," says Fred. He and George start toward you.

"No, no! That's alright, you don't need to do that. You two can go eat."

"But we insist," the twins say in unison. They stand on either side of you and hold out their arms in a gentlemanly manner. You laugh and take their arms, knowing there's no use arguing with them.

The halls are practically empty now. Your footsteps on the tile floor echo, and you get a rush of nostalgia.

You arrive at the door to the Slytherin common room. You let go of the twins' arms and turn around to face them.

"Thank you both again... for everything," you say.

George starts to speak. "No prob—" You cut him off with a kiss on the cheek, having to stand on the tips of your toes to reach him. You do the same to Fred, who slightly bends his knees for you in advance.

"Goodnight," you say before quickly making your way into the common room, struggling to keep yourself from grinning giddily.

"Goodnight, y/n," you hear Fred and George say together. Just before the door shuts, you think you see them share a fist bump.

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nerdieforpedro · 4 months

Text

Sard'ika Sessions

Session Six

Din Djarin x plus size female reader

Fanfiction 18+ Minors do not interact

Sard'ika Sessions Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Din Djarin/The Mandalorian Masterlist

Word Count: 6.5k

Summary: The conclusion of your story with Din. Through it all, you've formed a bond with him that's quite deep. It doesn't have a name quite yet - though down the line you find one. A life together with your Mandalorian and his foundling begins.

We have three cameos from characters you may know! (There's a fourth is you squint.)

Warnings: Fluff (spread throughout), angst, Din dropping info bombs, meeting people, force user fight, cuteness, gifts, blindfold, Din Djarin is his own broad teasing warning, oral sex (female receiving), body worship, a little possessiveness, a few swats of an ass, unprotected p in V (wrap it people!), mutual marking, aftercare (always)

Notes: Sorry it’s out later than I planned.

I’d like to thank everyone for sticking with me to then end. 🥰 I put a little bit of everything into this one because I wanted them to have a proper ending. I may do some epilogues down the road after brainstorming more.

The next day you wake and you’re greeted with something both foreign and familiar. The cool metal of beskar on your back and the warmth of skin on the back of your legs and ass. Din was still here, you thought he may have gotten up, cleaned up, put his armor back on but he did not. Instead, he slept next to you, placing your hand over your chest, you felt your own heartbeat quicken. This was real, he was really here and for better or worse, the two of you had discussed moving in together, possibly skipping - whatever was supposed to be in between these sessions and where your relationship was now. A relationship that has some clarity, but is still a bit murky.

One thing was clear, at its core, the two of you trusted each other.

To what degree remained to be seen, but there was a bond between you and your Mandalorian. You rose first, making your way to the bathroom, washing yourself up and then the items you’d used last night. The thought of credits crossed your mind as you scrubbed the very glass beads that had been inside of Din. It had been the last one for you to clean, upon returning to the room and putting them away, Din was still asleep. It was surprising to see him sleeping as he was normally the one who watched you. Maybe it’s another sign. Another way to show you that he feels safe with you, that you’re not going to violate his Creed and that he’s reached a level of solace with you. It made you smile as you put your robe back on and sat in the chair he’d been sitting in when you’d woken up.

It still nagged at the back of your mind, those damn credits. You hadn’t done anything with them, you weren’t sure if she’d be satisfied or want his money back. Thankfully the bounty hunter had not, but the more you’d seen him, the more it felt wrong to even deposit the damn things. They were hidden in the back of your closet. It was something that the two of you’d need to speak about. You picked up the book Din had been reading earlier and peeked at where he’d left off, having read the title several times, you began it again, engrossing yourself in the tale of ‘The Alchemist’ by Paula Coelho.

The Mandalorian awoke to you sitting across from him, ankles crossed and your head tilted down, engrossed in what you weren reading. He sat up quietly and watched you, curious how he came to be here. Din is perfectly aware of how, but he wonders if it’s really alright. To subject you to a life where you’ll wonder if he’s alive constantly and you may leave him with his foundling in wherever you all decide to settle. The thought occurs to him, ‘this isn’t the first time I’ve thought like this.’ He’d pictured you with both his foundling, Grogu having warmed to you and cooing happily at you as you hold him. He’s seen you on the Razor Crest, sitting next to Grogu, keeping him calm as he charts the course. Din knows you’d say yes if he asked you to come with him. That if he’d asked you to care for Grogu, you’d agree to that as well. He also knew even if he had not revealed his feelings to you, it was a sure bet that the sessions would continue with no end in sight. He could have just done that, but the warrior would have been lying to himself.

Din Djarin needed a new plan now.

“Good morning Cyar’ika. How did you sleep?” He asked you, genuinely curious, but he felt he needed to speak. He was sure he'd been staring at you for at least five minutes. A soft chuckle left your lips as you closed the book and rose from your seat, walking to stand next to him before sitting back down at his side on the bed.

“I slept well. I cleaned up all the tools from last night. You seemed to sleep well yourself Din.” Your soft hand touched his, a calloused thumb of his scratched your smooth skin. No, he would not lose this. He would not give it up. His visor trained on your face, reflecting it with your kind smile. Even if what he’s asking of you is a bit selfish, Din has lost much in his life in this galaxy. He will grip tight onto those he holds dear. That number is few but now includes you.

“It has been quite awhile since I have slept that deeply Sard’ika.”

“I take it you found the bed comfortable then. I’m glad. You looked at peace.”

“The bed is quite soft and felt good on my back.” Din lifts your hand and holds it up, interlocking fingers with it. “That’s not the main factor of why I slept well, Cyar'ika. I slept well because you were beside me and I could be skin to skin with you. Had you in my arms. I would like to sleep like this again.” His other hand cups your cheek. “I don’t plan on sleeping without you unless I am on an assignment.”

“Din-” You began but two fingers shushed you by covering your lips. He doesn’t speak yet you feel tension, you’re not sure what it isn’t, though it doesn’t feel negative.

“Mesh’la, do you still have the credits from when we first began?” You nod and tilt your head in the direction of your closet. “Good. I shall speak to Greef tomorrow then. For now, I have some other things to prepare. I’ll also need to pick up Grogu from Luke.”

Thoughts in your head swirl. He’s put a lot in front of you. What is he going to talk to Greef about with the credits? Pick up Grogu from Luke? There’s only one Luke you’ve heard of and he’s a Jedi - a legendary one. Of course Din knows him, why wouldn’t he, he’s only THE Mandalorian. Still that’s a hell of a name drop. But what, what else does he need to prepare?

“Din, please explain…everything you just said. It was a lot, and overwhelming.” You tell him, you’re not wrong for asking. He realizes he just stated his to-do list aloud with the information he’s given you. He gave no context though. Din laughs and hears you sigh.

“I apologize Sard’ika. The credits will be for a down payment on a new home for us. As we discussed last night, if you’d still like. Since I’ve had numerous dealing with Greef, he’ll be fair with the price he gives me. As for Grogu’s mentor and occasional babysitter, it is the very legend himself. That’s a much longer story for another day, but I want Grogu to see you again.” He takes a pause, before continuing, squeezing your hand a little tighter, finger pressing into your hand, applying pressure due to his nerves. His voice became soft, “I want him to know who our new clan member will be, and that you’re as important to me as he is.” You felt him boring holes into you despite the barrier of his helmet.

Remaining silent, your lips went to move, but no sound came from them. Truly speechless, you sat, trying to put into words what you felt. A sense of excitement at a new life with him and his foundling. Warmth for him accepting you and making step by step guide toward your lives together. “I..how long have you…Maker help me. I want to get to know the little scamp too. Grogu and I will spend lots of time together with you won’t we?” Your vision was becoming cloudy from your tears. “I was trying not to, ugh…Sorry. They’re happy tears. Very happy Din. Just so damn happy.” You were trying in vain to wipe the tears falling on your cheeks. Din released your hand and pulled you into his lap, laying your head on his shoulder. One hand was on your back, rubbing circles into it as his other hand, scratched your scalp, his large palm holding it steady as you continued to sob quietly.

It was cathartic relief. Relief that what you felt was in fact correct. You weren’t lying to yourself and misreading things. Din was making a life for all three of you.

The next month was spent looking at different plots of land with small homesteads on them. Navarro is a fairly barren planet, after living here for years, you didn’t expect much as far as the land was concerned. Though, going to speak to Greef with Din was…an experience. Greef, who you’d only seen give the salesman type of smile, had the biggest, shit eating grin on his face when you entered his office on your day off at Din’s side. He told Din that he’s though he’s been different, chipper even if the hulking man of metal was even capable of that. Turns out he was and it was with you. That didn’t surprise Greef, in fact, he suspected something the day he’d heard that The Mandalorian had threatened another hunter. Unless said hunter directly threatened his current bounty or his little green child, the Guild owner knew Mando didn’t give two wookies about what they said or did. Curious, he’d asked around and the staff said that it was a below average middling hunter who’d been trying to speak to you for more than a few minutes at a time. Karga then recalled that most times when Mando came to the guild, he took his jobs with you and reported them to you as well. From there it wasn't difficult.

Greef told them, “The happy couple deserves a suitable place to live with their little one!” You were going to tell Karga that couple isn’t the right word, though if he asked, you wouldn’t know what else to tell the man, but Din held your hand and just nodded, letting him rattle on about stuff they’d need for Grogu and themselves. Din did tell him to stop when he started mentioning each room and its use.

“We’ll determine that. Just tell us where the plots are so we can look at them and the dimensions with specs of the home on them.” Greef said Mando was too serious and asked how you’d be able to live with him. You simply told him,

“I took him as is, like he did with me. That’s all.” Greef sighed and said that mando was rubbing off on you because now you’re giving short answers. He handed over some plans, but said that he was going to show you both the places personally as it’s not everyday a Mandalorian you know finds his better half. The subsequent trips with Greef actually proved fruitful despite his occasional teasing and Mando sighing so much, you’d have thought that was the only sound the poor man made.

Thankfully, you and Din agreed on one such plot that had a four bedroom home in a dome shape. You’d asked why the two of you needed so many rooms, really there just needed to be two rooms. One for the two of you and one for Grogu. Din didn’t give you a suitable answer other than he was sure that all the rooms will be used. Considering Greef was giving a significant discount, you didn’t argue, just wondered. Din did explain that he’s going to need to be gone for about two weeks, hopefully less going to the ‘a corner of the galaxy’ where Luke lives to pick up Grogu.

In the meantime, you could expect a visitor, they’ll seem stern, but they’ve taught him much about life, The Way, and his weapons. Since you are his beloved, he would like you to meet her, but his mentor insisted on meeting you one on one. You agreed and asked Din if this too had a special meaning you wasn’t aware of. Din expressed that considering how quickly things had progressed, he didn’t want to presume or force anything. That would never be his intention with you. Expressing that you don’t plan on going anywhere unless your Mandalorian is the one to take you, he exhales. “Cyar’ika, I want you to become my riduur. It means…It means to become my spouse. To have each other’s lives fully.” The beam from your smile rivaled the glare from Din’s helmet as you took him in your arms, the steel of his beskar contrasting with the warmth you felt.

“Yes Din. Nothing would make me happier.”

He touched his helmet to your forehead before departing.

“We’ll be together soon. The three of us Cyar’ika.”

It was five days later, after Greef and a few of your coworkers had helped move the last of the things you had planned to take into your new home with Din that the woman appeared. To be more precise, she was a Mandlorian like Din was, covered head to toe in armor, but it was completely different from his. A simmering scarlet approached your home, adorned with a gold helmet that reflected the rays of the sun and a fur coat. You didn’t even notice the dark brown of her kilt or the darkened green of her pants until she stood a few feet before you. She spoke your name and asked if you were Din’s intended. You replied that you were and felt the need to stand up straighter. She commanded authority despite being very friendly. It was her voice, brusque phrasing and rigid body language. Inviting her in, you offered her a seat and some water or tea adding that you’d step into the other room until she finished it or said you could come back in. The woman introduced herself as The Armorer, you were sure she had an actual name, but like Din is often called ‘The Mandalorian’ she apparently is called her profession. She was to the point,

“I see you know that much about our culture. This is good. It is very important. I do not require any substance right now my dear. Have you seen Djarin’s face?” She waited for your answer which was easy to give. You had not and respected that likely due to status as a Mandalorian you may never see it. “This is pleasing to hear. Are you aware of the term ‘riduur’?” She inquired, you again said yes and repeated what Din had told you. A light chuckle left her gold helmet.

“He explained the very basics I see. This is very good. However, it means much more than that. You will be charged with not only being as one, but any offspring, your own or found shall be raised as warriors in the Mandalorian tradition. Has he told you this?” Shaking your head, you indicate that he focused on the first part, likely due to not having had the discussion of children, though recalling your first session with Din, you don’t see why it would be needed. The Armorer crosses her arms in thought and nods.

“The Mandalorian culture doesn’t demand that we don’t have children, does it?” You ask, curious. The tacturn woman shakes her head.

“No. Though we share our Creed and follow The Way, unless one and their riduur choose to, it is not forced or encouraged. That will be up to you and Djarin.”

“Is it an issue that he chose a partner that doesn’t follow the way?”

“As long as the one who calls himself a Mandalorian follows our Creed and The Way, it matters not what or who they choose as their partner. However,” The Armorer continued, “using Djarin’s name or any Mando’a terms of endearment outside of your clan in addition to the removal of his helmet outside of his clan and exposing himself out side the three of you will result in him no longer being considered a Mandalorian. Understood my dear?” Her points are clear as the water you had offered her and remained on the table. Your nod has her uncross her arms and place them on her knees.

“I will return when Djarin arrives. The process is simple for your riduurok.” You blink, you’re not sure what she just said as you walk her to the door. “I apologize, riduurok means marriage. They’re vows between you and Djarin and can be done privately, but he appeared to want me to be present and his foundling as well. To witness the binding of your partnership.”

“I’m glad we met then. He did impress upon me that you were someone very important to Din. I look forward to seeing you again.” The Armorer took a step back and chuckled, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I find myself feeling the same my dear. Djarin has had some…questionable judgment over the years, but it seems The Way had led him to his foundling and you. In this, we can find great jubilation and stability. This is The Way.” The two of you nodded in unison and she left, you watched her crimson armor until it disappeared over the horizon.

Din had arrived at Luke’s, only to witness a fierce battle of the force taking place over…a frog. Apparently Luke had told Grogo not to eat it and removed it from his mouth. Grogu did not take kindly to this and used his powers to pick it back up, the poor frog was stuck in the middle of two stubborn force users. Djarin simply shook his head. He picked Grogu up, breaking his concentration. The little one was happy to see Din and Luke explained they had made much progress. On the way back, Din was telling Grogu all about you despite not really knowing if the foundling was grasping any of what he was saying. Din was very happy though, he would have his two favorite people together soon. The Mandalorian made sure to sent a holomessage to you to let you know when he would be expected back. In your excitement you asked him how to get in touch with the Armorer. Despite what she had said the last time, she had visited you twice. Once to take measurements in case you ever decided to don armor she told you and the other was to review the actual marriage vows you and Din would need to exchange. Din was surprised that his mentor took to you, she usually was indifferent to those outside of The Creed. You were a special woman indeed.

The dress you chose to wear when Din arrived back was a deep blue off the shoulder dress that fell just below your knees. You are wearing black flats because this is still the desert, not falling in this dress. After landing the Razor Crest behind your home, Din made his way to you carrying Grogu. It was on cue then that the blinding shine of gold was spotted on the horizon followed by the crimson armor. You hadn’t told her when to be here and neither had Din. The Armorer just showed up on time. The only thing she said when she stood before the three of you,

“This is The Way.”

Learning that it seemed Mandalorians in general seem to have impeccable timing, this didn’t surprise you, you did find it funny that Din appeared to be rattled. The Armorer told Din to gather himself and you took Grogu in your arms. He looked up at you with his big round eyes,

“Patu! Pa..Patu!” He said, though you’re not sure what it means, he appeared to be happy. The Armorer took Grogu’s bag from Din and shook her head.

“You’re going to need time alone after. I shall take the foundling and review the history of Mandalore with him. Go ahead, both of us shall remain until you finish your vows.” Din nods and gives up debating for he knows it’s pointless. He looked at you and took your hands into his,

“We’ll need to say it together, alright?” You nod and you both count to three.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar’tome, mhi me’dinui an, mhi ba’juri verde (We are one weather we are together or apart, we will share everything and we will raise our children as warriors).” The both of you kept your gazes on each other as you spoke your vows. When you finished, Grogu kept with his ‘patus’ to seemingly join in. It earned laughs from all three adults. The Armorer wished the both of you well and she placed a necklace in your hand then she started back with the little one, he appeared to be angry that he was being left out, but was calmed quickly by the stern woman.

“What did she give you?” Din asked on the way to your home. He opened the door for you and entered, happy to be back. He removed his boots at the door as to not track in the sand as did you. You opened your hand and saw a black knit cable with a small emblem of the same mudhorn that was on Din’s pauldron with one exception, it had a small star with two arrows toward the both miniature mudhorns on either side of the prominent one in the middle. “By the Maker, she created a new signet. I’ll need to have mine changed to match.” He hummed as he spoke and you chuckled, knowing that was a tell-tale sign that he was happy.

As you two relaxed, Din described his trip to you in great detail as she told him about your interactions with the Armorer. It was Din who brought it up first, that he could now remove all of his armor. You had been curious since the first session what he looked like fully exposed to you, but like he had been considerate of your limits, you wanted to show him the same courtesy.

“You don’t have to remove everything if you’re not comfortable Din. It’s alright. We’re married, yes, but there’s no pressure. We’re spouses, riduurs, so it doesn’t have to be tonight.” Din tilted his helmet and remained silent; he then stood and disappeared into the bedroom and soon returned with a blindfold.

“Cyar’ika my riduur. Though I am nervous that you may not like everything you see, I still desire to show you. You are mine and I am yours. I once told you not to hold back, I shall do the same.” He spoke while blindfolding you and you sighed.

“Then why are you blindfolding me if you want to show me Din?”

“One must set the stage for such a reveal Sard’ika.” His voice started out modulated, but after a hissing sound and a soft kiss to the back of your neck, became fuller and richer.

“Din…did you just?”

“That I did, but you’ll not see my face until I prepare you for it.”

“I don’t see how-” Your question disappeared in the back of your throat as Din’s soft lips found the side of your neck, sucking on it. You heard the soft thump of something beside you on the couch and realized that it was his gloves for you felt his hands trailing up your arms. With the loss of your vision and that it had been two weeks since you had felt those rough hands of his, you felt your core warming already and quickly.

Din stopped momentarily to move in front of you and cupped your face, he kissed your forehead, nose, both cheeks, but stopped short of your lips. He lingered in front of your face as his hands, lifted the hem of your dress to grab your thick thighs, his face then dropped between your breasts, nipping at the top of them as he applied pressure to the skin of your thighs, slowly parting them to allow himself closer until his breastplate was against your belly. Your moans made him start grazing your soft skin with his teeth, eventually biting the top of your dress and pulling it down so your ample breasts were exposed to him.

“Mesh’la, you’re mine. All mine. Such softness, only I will know.” He cooed, taking a nipple into his mouth, your breath hitched and you reached for his head, only for his hands to grab your wrists. His lips released the erect flesh, “Not yet Sard’ika. You still haven’t learned patience.” He placed your wrists on his shoulders and reached under your thighs, carrying you as he’d done before, after you rode his beskar. Hearing you yelp and tell him to put you down only had him plop you down on the bed, and turn you to the side gently before giving your ass a squick swat. “We’ll continue here. And you’ll earn another one if you tell me I can’t handle you Cyar’ika. If I recall, you rode me on this very bed not too long ago.” He teased as you removed your dress. On the same token, Din removed the rest of his armor, every piece. He’d need to make sure to gather everything and perform maintenance on it later.

The bed dipped when he climbed on and tapped your hip, “Sard’ika. You’ll sit atop my face and ride me again as the queen you are. Come to me Cyar’ika.” He growled. This was a version of Din you’ve not known, he was even more aggressive than usual, but it’s made your thighs slick already. You crawled to his torso and when you reached his shoulders, took a deep breath and exhaled. He faced dangerous bounties, jedi, imperial forces and that’s only what you’ve heard of. Sitting on the face of the Mandalorian wouldn’t be the end of him would it? Surely not, you hope.

One leg swings over his shoulder and you inch your way to his neck until you feel his nose, but you don’t relax yet. Din doesn’t feel your full weight on his face. This does not please him, but he understands why you’re nervous, then again, he’s seen you let go before and counted himself blessed that he’d seen it. A hand pops your ass and you yelp again, he rubs it and blows air upward to further tease you.

“What has gotten into you Din?” You ask, breathy and genuinely curious.

“I’ve imagined the many ways I would take you for quite a long time Sard’ika. I too can be impatient at times though I can regain composure usually.” His hands rub circles on your large ass cheeks and then work around to the tops of your thighs, “I refuse to do so now. You’ll not be the only one to let go. I haven’t tasted you for so long, you’ll deny me? Your riduur?” His tongue ran along your inner thigh and flicked in the nectar he found there. He didn’t force your hips down though, as he licked, you relaxed, “that’s it my love. Just a bit further. I’m parched from my travels and need to drink you in. Deny me no longer.” When his teeth sunk into your thigh, you yelped again and dropped, landing right on his face. It was only then when he felt your true weight on him, that he locked his hands and elbows into place so you couldn’t move.

“D-D-Din are you o-” Djarin was finally in the dark warmth he’d craved for long. He inhaled your scent and he laughed into your core as he heard you curse, he assumed from the sensation of air. It was then he began, his nose quickly found your clit and he backed off of it, not wanting you to come right away. No he would savor this, his tongue flitted with your entranced before seeping its way in slowly. Your hands were in his hair, and he couldn’t stop you. That did not matter now, feeling your walls trying to keep his tongue inside of you made him groan into your wet cavern. Soon, he felt your hips grinding down onto his face, harder and faster. His lips met your opening and sucked, hollowing his cheeks and mixing in slurps in between. It was when you were pulling at the back of his head, meaning in order to reach, you were doubled over and he felt the bottom of your belly on his forehead. A smirk formed on the bounty hunter’s lips as he decided to finally use his nose to poke your clit. Hearing you screech his name, was making him leak precum from this throbbing cock. He wanted to experience what it would be like inside of your hot dripping cunt, but he knew from previous endeavors, it was best to over-prepare you. Din’s nose pressed into your clit as he drove his tongue as deep as he could into your soft walls and he felt his entire face dampen. He flicked his tongue until he didn’t feel any more wetness coming forth and you stopped moving.

You were panting, your body feeling like jelly. Where the hell did that come from and when did he learn how to do that? Feeling Din move your legs back, he flipped your forward on the bed so you were on your back and placed a pillow under your head. His torso was now between your legs as he snaked up your body. “How do you feel Cyar’ika?” He asked, he sounded genuinely concerned but you just nodded, still a little out of breath. He waited, running a hand over your belly, kneading it intermittently and you touched his arm,

“Din. I feel incredible…” You heard him about to speak and cut him off, “I’m ready for you. All of you. Please. I want to see you. Let me see you.” You pleaded, your hands waved around a little before finding his shoulders and then face. You felt a patchy beard, his soft lips, prominent nose that had your slick on it, thick eyebrows and his fluffy hair. “You feel handsome Din.” He chuckled as he touched your face.

“That’s only because you haven’t seen it yet.”

Your fingers run over his eyelids, pressing them slightly before using your thumbs to push past his lips and feel his teeth. “It doesn’t feel like you're missing either eye and from where you bit me and what I was able to touch, not missing any teeth either.” A grin grew on your face, “You would deny your riduur?” You deepen your voice to try and copy when he teased you earlier. Din’s head fell onto your shoulder before kissing it lightly.

“I won’t deny you any longer Cyar’ika.” His hands pulled off the blindfold and set it next to your head. It took your eyes a few seconds to adjust to the light, but when they did, a beautiful pair of deep brown eyes looked back at you. He had freckles, his beard had a little gray in it as did his mustache. There was a scar on his jaw that ran down onto his neck. His lips appeared even fuller than the felt and his nose was the centerpiece of the vision that was your husband.

“You best not say anymore that I’d be scared off by your face Din. You’re perfect. My beautiful husband.” You reached up and pulled him down, capturing his lips with yours, he gladly let you in as your tongues swirled, your hands once again dancing in his hair. Din’s heavy cock dragged along your thigh and prodded your entrance before rubbing along your mound. You moaned into the kiss and pulled his head back, Din was set to continue when you spoke again, “Enter me Din, please.” He hesitated so your hand quickly found his length and he moaned as you placed it at your soaked cunt. “You shouldn’t deny me Din.”

Din nodded and reached down, covering your hand with his and guided the head through your folds. Just that stretch was enough to have your walls attempt to suck him in so he pressed further deliberately watching your face as you hitched your breath. He moved your hand as he continued to enter you and set it back on his shoulder. Din then grabbed your hip, digging his fingers into your plump flesh as his other hand cupped your face. His thumb traced your bottom lip, quivering as his pelvis became flush with yours. He called your name, then asked, “Cyra’ika, how do you feel? Are you alright?” The last thing he wanted was for you to feel pain again, but your core was gripping him so tightly he may not be able to pull out.

“Dank farrik Din, I feel so full. Ah…give me a moment….” You gasped, parts that no one had been able to reach in so long were being carved into by your riduur. More than anything, it felt amazing. You ran your fingers along his face again, especially those lips that had made you cry not too long ago. A small peck from you dotted his cheeks and lips before you gripped his shoulders. “I’m ready Din. Please mark me. Make it so I drip with you and you can watch your work again.” A low growl erupted from Din as he simply nodded and began moving, drawing back slowly until only his head was still within you and thrusted forward, steadily increasing in pace. Your nails began to dig into your Mandalorian’s skin, maybe you’d make new scars for him. You would be able to look at them and know you made them, wrapping your legs around his waist and trying to have him even deeper.

Din was pulsing inside of your tight cunt, he was holding on, but when your locked your legs around his waist, his hand that held your face, went down to your other hip. “Sard’ika, my love, I can’t be gentle anymore. I’ll ruin you now.” That was when it began, his devastating pace. His hips rut into yours, his lips sucking on your neck, no longer watching your face. He wanted to, truly he did, he wanted to feel your tight cunt squeeze his thick cock as soon as possible. The marks forming on your neck and chest had you whining as you felt an even stronger wave bubbling in the pit of your core than before. It wasn’t long until he had it, your spongy walls closing around his length. Din moaned with you but did not come yet. No, he instead pulled out of you, leaving you with a blissed and bewildered look on your face.

“Din, wha-”

The Mandalorian did not allow you to finish before he pulled you into his lap as he had done many times before, only this time, he spread your legs wide, exposing the sopping mess that was your pussy. Your hands found his broad back, pulling yourself close to him, but he took hold of your hips once more and lifted you up, lining your folds with his cock again and pulled you down, plunging his full thickness within you at once. The sensation caused another orgasim and he allowed you to lay your head on his shoulder, caressing your back as he warmed within you. “Maker, you’re the perfect place to be Sard’ika. I’ll mold you to my cock. I’ll keep making you sing.” Din licked your ear as he spoke, then kissed your neck. Now you were the one humming softly, but that wasn’t enough. It was much too quiet. “Let me hear you, Cyar’ika. You’ll give me another song and squeeze won’t you?” His teasing voice was even worse unmodulated and on your neck, his lips marking the words into your skin. It had you continuing to drip on his cock, he felt your walls quivering so he chose that time to thrust upward, moving his large hands under your knees to better lift you. Your nails scratched his back up and down as he rutted upward, the only thing you were capable of saying was his name, repeatedly and in increasing volume. Eventually your hands made their way back to his beautiful chocolate curls, pulling on them. You felt the rush of blood downward, knowing that you were going to climax again, however this time, Din was looking up at you, his brow drenched in sweat, furrowed and his mouth agape. Deep brown eyes studying your slack jaw as it formed a smile. He began giving your staggered thrusts before you felt the heat, though not your own. It was his, Din had spread his spend inside of you coating your walls, he called your name as your cunt milked him your all it could, the two of your rigid bodies frozen together before crashing in the middle of the bed. Din did not pull out of you though.

He continued to warm you as he softened and ran his fingers through your hair, gazing at you softly. “You’re so dear to me Cyar’ika.” You nodded and kissed his chest, spotting a dark brown scar, it looked like it may have been a stab wound. You ran your lips over it kissing it before doing the same with his Adam's apple. Your hand was back in his hair.

“I love you Din. I’m not going anywhere. We’re a clan now after all.” He hummed in agreement and reluctantly pulled out of you, but slid down you see his cum starting to spill out of you. You chuckled as you knew he’d want to look. “Admiring your work are you?”

“Yes. I don't see an issue with doing so. I enjoy the view.” He peered over her belly with a bright smile and you laughed, such a silly movement after such intense lovemaking. After continuing to watch for a minute or two, Din then went to the refresher, cleaning himself then brought two warm washcloths to wipe you down as he normally did. He then moved you toward the head of the bed and laid beside you, putting and warm across your soft stomach and placing his hand behind your shoulder as he laid his head on your chest. “You didn’t fall asleep this time, I assume after you rest you’ll be ready for more Mesh’la?” He kissed in between your breasts and laid his head back down, listening to your heartbeat. It was a little on the quick side but slowed after you laughed again.

“We just became life partners. Are you going to try and make me not be able to walk Din? I think I’ll need a bit of rest despite still being awake.” Your fingers twirled a few curls of his and scratched his scalp.

“If you cannot walk, I’ll be your legs and carry you Sard’ika.” He placed his chin on your chest and gazed into your eyes, “you’ll get a small reprieve for now but we will begin again. You asked me to mark you did you not? I would never deny my riduur.” Din used his large palm to hold the back of your head. “You will not be denied anything from me, in our bed or outside of it.”

Your face warmed from his declaration, Din Djarin was your riduur and you his. “Nor you from me. You’ll have everything I have.” The two of you laid together in bed, awake, just basking in being together without a set time limit. Now it was forever as a clan of three.

Previous: Session Five

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