#i am once again reminded how fucking good this mod is

[nightingaletrash]

Iriana vs Mannimarco

[hamartia-grander]

can you elaborate on gale being manipulative? i dont have him in my party very often so i havent really talked to him much

Yeah absolutely.

So to be fair, I didn't notice it until my second or third playthrough because I never played with him in my party either until I got the mod for no party limit. But once I had him in my party - and would choose different dialogue routes/attempted to romance him (but couldn't go through w it because I don't like him) - that's when it became super noticeable. Astarion's manipulations are overdramatised and overexaggerated because he's a caricature of real manipulation that larian obviously never took seriously. Gale however is real manipulation that is at times so effective it seems whoever was writing the dialogue tree fell for it themselves, given the lack of range in responses.

Gale is very straightforward when he wants something. This is usually an admirable quality. He doesn't hide when he needs something and he isn't afraid to ask for help. But that turns into manipulation when, if he doesn't get his way, he begins putting words into the player character's mouth and assuming their intentions behind denying him what he wants. For the romance path, I noticed this when I began romancing him, but quickly switched to Wyll once I realised I couldn't go an entire playthrough pretending to be attracted to Gale. And when you choose Wyll, Gale has this dialogue:

This. Shocked me, to say the least. Gale immediately equates the player's affections to being a signifier of what makes a man "good", and shifts a simple preference of the heart to be the player saying "you're not as good of a man as Wyll, and you're also unworthy of my love", things that the player never said nor is even a logical thing to conclude from anything I would have said previously. He's putting words in my mouth, he's assuming the worst of my decision. Now this can be interpreted in two ways: either he has no idea he's being super manipulative right now, and is simply lashing out in hurt, or he knows full well what he's doing and is doing it on purpose in an attempt to convince the player to choose him over Wyll in his hurt. Regardless of the intention, the result is that he is twisting the player's intentions and feelings into something that satisfies his own insecurities, either as a reflex or to try to warp the player to giving him what he wants. It's manipulation.

Another instance I noticed this was when I was discouraging him from pursuing the Crown of Karsus after reading The Annals of Karsus. I chose the extreme dialogue choices for this one - outright discouraging him, telling him I don't want him pursuing the crown/godhood - because my first playthrough despite passing the roll to convince him not to take the crown, he still did, because of a bug, but I didn't know it was a bug and just thought I'd done it wrong. So the next time, I tried it this way.

First, I reminded him that the Karsite weave - and the crown itself - is what caused Karsus' downfall and led to an absence of magic. Gale brings up how Mystra wanted him to sacrifice himself to save the realm, and says:

This isn't directed at the player, but it is still a manipulation tactic nonetheless. The player does not know Mystra. We do not interact with her, ever, and we do not ever hear her side of it outside of a brief conversation she has with Gale in the tabernacle. Now, I am not commenting on the act of Mystra wanting Gale to kill himself - obviously that's fucked up. But Gale is, again, completely assuming her intentions behind her request, and twisting the image of her into something purposefully cruel and power-hungry (the goddess of ALL magic… fears not having power? sure, Gale. But there's also limitless power in magic? Which one is it Gale?). He's angry with her, he's angry with the player for trying to discourage him from his hubris, and so he lashes out by warping Mystra's image to the player. He also assumes that Mystra knows for a fact the crown of Karsus can be used to overthrow her, when it literally failed to do so in the past. He is going back to his old habits, he's completely forgetting that the existence of the orb is entirely his fault in his arrogance and in actively ignoring Mystra's boundaries, and he goes on to blame her for it:

by saying she 'took' something from him. (Also, he brings up being cured, as a way to say 'hey you care about me and want be to be cured, so you should be okay with me pursuing godhood, because it means I'll be cured :) Mystra doesn't want Gale to have the crown, and so when the player suggests not wanting Gale to have the crown either, he tries to get us to let him have his way by pinning Mystra as the bad guy. Even though before, he was perfectly willing to acknowledge he was in the wrong:

(this was back in the Tabernacle, after speaking to Mystra). There's also more dialogue in Act 1 where he openly admits to actively ignoring Mystra's boundaries, to being blinded by his hubris, leading him to pursue the pocket of magic only to have that pocket be consumed by him, giving him the orb. Something Mystra took no part in, and actively discouraged him from doing.

When the player says they don't want him to pursue godhood, Gale says:

Just. Wow. Okay. So suddenly, the player disagreeing with him wanting to pursue Godhood means they have no faith in him as a person - something that was never said - and that they think he is automatically inferior to anyone else who would try - again, something that is never said. He lashes out, he twists the player's words and intentions, he assumes everything in bad faith, all to shield his hurt over not getting what he wants and to try to get the player to give him what he wants. (He also, again, reduces his own mistakes as "youthful enthusiasm" despite knowing the risks and taking them anyway. And he intends to do the exact same thing again, here).

He appeals to our empathy by suggesting we mean to say he's worthless, he's not a good man, we have no faith in him, he's inferior, etc., as a way to get us to be on his side. He doesn't see our hesitance to be the understanding that it is - that we know Gale is blinded by his hubris once more, and his seeking godhood will end badly no matter what - and instead twists it into something purposefully cruel and ill-intended. He can be mad all he wants with my decisions - that's normal, that's human, and it's understandable given I'm discouraging him from pursuing something he wants. That's not being argued here. But it is how he acts when being denied something he wants, it's how he twists people's words negatively against them to fit his lack of self-worth that makes it manipulation. He's not taking the player at face value, he's not having faith in the player as his friend and companion, he is shoving us into the 'adversary' box by assigning harmful intentions to our disagreement so that he can feel better about himself.

[misskattylashes]

One Man Band Track by Track Review

Right, so I have listened to the album twice. Miles wasn’t lying when he said it was banger after banger. But while the music is upbeat the lyrics are in places dark. Touching on self-doubt, insecurity and loneliness. For me OMB is the yin to CDG's yang. Both confessional (depending on your beliefs – both largely about the same person) but while CDG is an album of heartbreak, OMB is an album of hope. It seems Miles has found himself, and judging by the last track, he has someone who loves and understands him. And well, it all kinds of explains why he is so happy these days.

Troubled Son

This song could essentially be called I am approaching middle age and I am coming to terms with the person I am. Good and bad. Musically this track always reminds me of The Strokes.

Lyrically, despite beating himself up a bit, it is a song of hope. Once you face your own demons you can start to battle them.

This is the song that will get people singing at gigs. The lyrics are relatable to so many of us and it would be quite cathartic sharing the fact you’re a bit fucked up with several thousand people doing the same thing.

The Best is Yet To Come

Miles has admitted this is a song about being on the lash with his mates Big Lou and Romeo. Musically the driving rhythm and backing vocals are reminiscent at times of Queens of the Stone Age. Hard to explain, but this track is the most traditional Miles Kane and could have quite easily come from an earlier album.

One Man Band

Can I just start by saying there are not enough words to describe how much I love this song! Another song of self-reflection. I promise not to make too many comparisons to You Know Who, but as I have said before, the characterisation reminds me a lot of the character in Mr Schwartz. The performer who puts on the front to entertain people and make them happy, whilst hiding a lonely interior. But whilst Mr Schwartz is heart felt ballad. Miles being Miles. One Man Band sounds like sunshine.

Never Taking Me Alive

The most bonkers track on the album. Musically driven by surf guitar, lyrically an excuse for Miles to sing about his Italian American Heroes – De Niro, Pacino and Sinatra. This is a hype song. The sort of song you stick on on your way to a job interview, to pump you up.

Heartbreaks (The New Sensation)

Probably the weakest track, but still a banger. It evokes the image of a former girlfriend back in Miles’ mod day (retro boy trying to chase away time). With its Motown beat, this could have fitted easily into Change The Show. I mean it is a feel good banger, so to say it is the weakest shows how brilliant all the other tracks are.

The Wonder

Okay, anyone who follows me knows who I think The Wonder is about. So I won’t linger on that. In a nutshell, a song about realising a former lover and all the complications they bring is worth it, and this time you are going to put your fears aside and take a chance. The highlight for me are the rich backing vocals at the end, elevating it to almost gospel level.

Baggio

The happiest song in the world. I have analysed this before. In a nutshell, little Miles Kane is enthralled by Roberto Baggio and his flamboyance and realised its fine to be yourself. It is also a tale of hoping to reconnect with a lost love (cough cough)

Ransom

A mellow track about being afraid of falling in love because he is positive he is going to get heartbroken. However the object of his affections has hold of his cynical heart and he can’t afford the ransom, meaning he can’t escape them. A plea for them to be tender with him because he is trying to find a way. The final refrain being ‘cos I’d anything for you’. Whoever they are he loves them big time!

Doubles

I'm sorry but this is a Milex song. A happy upbeat song with Miles telling ‘the person’ that he is scared but he is missing his ‘Two player high’ but he will wait for this person. The middle eight lyrics ‘Never say never, never say never again, never say never I wanna know where it ends, I’m never in doubt when my heart starts to fall, there’s nothing in my life that I have wanted more, anymore’ ahhhh. This is also a sort of dancing in your bedroom alone song. Or maybe that’s just me.

Heal

This is the epic track of the album. With a heavy, rich musical arrangement, it is like the sequel to the Coup de Grace album. Where Miles was heartbroken, disillusioned with life in LA and at his lowest ebb. He acknowledges he needed time to heal to get to the place where he is now. Once again, gospel style backing vocals elevate the track to the next level. It is another song of hope. Facing up to the fact that we all have to endure the shit times in life to become the people we are.

Scared of love

A sweet acoustic ballad, where Miles opens his heart to his lover. Telling them he is sorry for holding back, but they sweetly tell him they understand because they know he is scared of love. Another song of hope. It would seem he has found love and whoever they are, they are there for him to help him fight his demons.

In no way does the last track inspire a fan fic in me.

Total score 5/5

[sojutrait]

thank you so much!!! 😭💓💓💓hope u feel better omg fuck the plague

i just simply started making sims kdjfkdk

I DO im so happy season 2 has started it reminds me sm of old school sims 4 lets plays with storylines and such UGHHH im so glad that style is making a resurgence

thank u!! again im so unhelpful when it comes to advice on making sims bc i really jus Go for it 😭 i dont really have a different approach when it comes to making masc frame sims either

probably not bc its such a small action (like theres only 2 or 3 steps iirc) it just wouldnt be worth the hassle and i dont think that many ppl would find any use out of it😭😭

well,,,, tis the season 🤔

i highly doubt it dkfdkkd

i didnt its from the gallery! i just decked out the inside

ahhh i play on desktop but theres 3 and 4 columns for different screen sizes u can read more about it on the actual mod page iirc

my defaults should be good but my mods arent but i cba to update them rn 😭

( @simarcana ) TYYYYYYY she really is, i just wanna spin her around in cas all day and gawk dkfndk

my only tip would be dont dress them in clothes only if u would wear it/its your style. more so let it be a reflection of their character and their own fashion sense. theres alot of my sims id never dress like djfdkfkd but i know its something they would like !

NOW- DIFJDIFJDK me and nia orphyd have written many dissertations about... That aspect of dante's life but i will not confirm nor deny if that was included

im drawing up blanks too rn 😭😭😭 id suggest if u already know like the ethnicity of ur founder sim to just google last names from that culture and go from there, thats what i usually do dfjkd

10!

thank u omg but no i would feel bad if anyone gave me their money esp considering my tendency to like.. dip for weeks at a time DFKDJK also love u tumblr but i absolutely do not trust u with my credit card information

strip naked/bald, facial features, skin details, hair, clothes, repeat any steps if i dont like what i picked initially

( @thatoneplumbob ) no thank u for enjoying them !!! 💓💓💓😭😭

thats an easy one i dont JFKDJFK thats all neighborhood stories and mcc, i would simply die if i had to do all that myself 😭😭😭 i just pop in and give them quick makeovers

( @cutie-with-glasses-blog ) thank u so much !!! u have a great day as well 💓💓💓😌

i havent, im not a big marvel movie fan 😭😭 BUTTTTT i have seen edits and fancams of shuris actress and i agree i would also sell my kidneys and yours for her, shes so fine

( @wildsangria ) THE WAY I ALREADY FORGOT THIS DISCOURSE HAPPENEDDHFDJHDJ ugh throwback to when i gatekept the decades old tabletop rpg game dungeons and dragons

ive been staring at this in my inbox for almost a month and it never fails to make me laugh yet also feel horrified great job you two

WELL GOOD NEWS I DID and ive only made one hs so far!! buttttt it was before hsy so it doesnt work with the pack 😭😭 ill prob make one for hsy eventually bc as much as i hate building im also drawn to it like a moth to flame

thank u!! but ahhh no i havent been having any problems with uni

thank u, i hope ur having a great day too! tbh its not like something i put like... effort into if that makes sense KJDSK like for my gameplay sims no matter how casual i try to make it i inevitably start adding unnecessary depth into them 😭😭 like ill just be cleaning my house and think hmmm this sim hates this food or once had this happen to them, so pretty much the same approach i do to my ocs!

I ACTUALLY RECORDED A VIDEO i just gotta grow some bawlz and upload it 😭😭 its just a quick cas vid for a sim i wanna do gameplay with on there but im still peeing in nervousness

TYYYY i am doing well i rlly am 😌😌 im on winterbreak so YIPEEEE hope ur both doing well too!

[dzpenumbra]

5/23/23

Today wasn't half bad. Low key, as usual. Got sucked into RP streams again.

I did a short but very intense yoga routine today... that I actually had to tap out of and take a breather. My shoulder kinda collapsed on me. I was supposed to do a side plank after a bunch of other plank-related stuff and it just... wouldn't hold. And that hasn't happened in a while. I'm not surprised, and I didn't really kick myself over it. It was just a bump in the road.

I've been getting more and more out of shape, and I don't feel like I can keep up with it. I'm frustrated about it because of how foreign it is to me. I've never had to deal with this, and... honestly, it's the fatigue that gets me. I have a lot of active exercise things I love to do. But I can't get myself to do them when I'm sleep deprived or depressed. And... that's a very chronic issue. So yeah, that's just something that haunts me and gets under my skin.

I'm gonna get to bed early tonight. Like... really soon. Just reminding myself to keep this short. I am tired, so I need to take advantage of that and use that momentum to inch my bedtime back. This 7AM shit just doesn't work. For some reason... 5AM and 7AM look the same for me as bedtimes. Like... both are way too late. By that, I mean the difference between 3AM and 5AM seems much bigger than 5AM and 7AM. Because once the sun comes up... it's just like... whatever. So... my goal is to be in bed and ready to sleep before 5. So... I'll keep this brief.

I added thin layers of Mod Podge to the yellow beads today. They look really good, actually. I think if I do thin layers, I don't have to sand them, really. Though... I'm not sure if it really evens out with how long I spend working on them. I'll see. But yeah, progress there. And I got myself to go out for a walk. I went out at like 8PM. It was well into sunset, I skipped the shower and everything. My primary goal was to get gravel for my mini garden thing I wanted to make in the terracotta pot I got. I got anxious about it again. Twice.

I got to the gravel road and there was a dude walking his dog and on his phone. So I went the other way and looped around, hoping to give him enough time to pass in a different location. But he did the most half-assed walk I've ever seen, it was like 50 feet down the road and back, on his phone the whole time. That poor dog. :( I actually ended up passing him, he started walking really slowly. And I felt really self-conscious with the idea of passing him, then taking off my backpack, pulling out a ziplock bag and shoveling gravel into it with my hands. Call me crazy, that made me a bit insecure. So I went to the parking lot at the top of the path and pulled my phone out and watched the stream I was listening to... and pretended I was scrolling something. And when he passed by, I went back to the path and filled the bag.

In the end, I wasn't really that anxious about it, and I got it done. What did make me anxious was later when I was walking back to my building... there was a person standing in a corner next to where the path goes under the bridge... and it was like... a cliche scene from a movie where someone would mug you. And I was wearing my glasses, so I couldn't see any fucking details of this person at all. So I speed-walked under that damn bridge. But besides that, I wasn't really anxious at all.

In fact, I was pretty damn confident today. I woke up to a message from my therapist who apologized profusely for the late message that he promised me. He was going to send me some custom crafted affirmations - mantras, if you prefer that terminology - to help combat my reflexive anxiety. Because it seems like a lot of it surrounds... a lack of confidence, an inferiority complex trained into me by people around me most of my life. I read a post from someone on here recently, a heavy confessional one, that sounded a lot like that too. So... if you're out there... and you get the whole... feeling like a fraud and you'll never be a "real adult" and all that nonsense... you're not alone. In fact, anyone that grew up being taught these things... you're not alone. There is not one definition of success. And I promise you... I am telling myself this as much as I'm telling this to you... if you follow someone else's definition of success, you will with almost absolute certainty end up miserable and disappointed. I'm really sorry, it's dark, it's heavy, it's disorienting, I know... but it's true. If I - as an artist, musician and poet - took self-help advice from a Navy SEAL? I mean... I'm not saying there aren't things that I could retrofit to be useful in my life, I'm not saying there's nothing to learn; only a Sith deals in absolutes. I'm saying... if I... as an artist/musician/poet... follow the step-by-step plan on how to be a happy, successful, "productive" adult crafted by a Navy SEAL... I would be miserable. Even if I succeeded. Because I would be building a life I don't even want. I would be laboring and slaving away to build someone else's life, crafted around someone else's goals, interests and desires.

What's my point with this? Get to know yourself. And learn to love yourself. Get past the "that's lame" reflexes there and try to understand that you get one fucking ride on this chunk of rock hurtling through space, and do everything you can to pursue the life that you desire. However you can. I wish society was crafted with more focus on that rather than... basically industrialized farming people and turning them into laborers... Ugh, politics aside... Step 1 - get to know yourself, what you love, what you want to do, what makes you happy. Step 2 - work towards being that person as much as possible. That's what I'm advocating.

My day started with engaging my brain in a form of focused meditation through a mantra. "It is safe for me to be my authentic self." And yeah, after years... a lifetime, really... of having my authentic self either hidden, emotionally beaten or shamed... It often does not feel safe being my authentic self. And that is the world's biggest understatement - I have had panic attacks that felt like I would be burned at the stake at a witch trial for being myself. But what I haven't really been able to convince my subconscious of lately... is that... the primary person in my life that is currently holding me back from being my authentic self... is me. Out of fear. Out of anxiety. Out of insecurity. Out of self-protection.

But today... I did much better with it. I still don't feel safe... in general. Which is a thing. But I felt a lot better just being... myself. My authentic self. My true self. The Me that I am behind closed doors, the Me that is... here. I felt more okay laughing at jokes in the stream in my earbuds as I walked in public, and not being worried about judgmental people I may pass by. And it felt... much more like home. It reminded me of times in the past when I was much more shameless (in a good way).

This is going on longer than planned, but I wanted to mention one more thing that was directly related. I watched a streamer that I really respect... that has been RPing for like... a decade? Who has streamed a ridiculous amount in her life... I watched her have an anxiety attack. A real anxiety attack. Live, on stream, in front of thousands of viewers. Because her character, who is a Captain in the PD, was going in for a final interview for Chief of Police. And she was legit having very real anxiety about it, audibly, and narrating it. And the support and empathy coming from chat (myself included) was so unbelievably heartwarming! And she nailed it! I didn't see the other interviews so I have no idea if she got the job, but she... she really deserves it. I am so fucking emotionally invested in this server, good lord! XD

So yeah, big theme of like... combatting and overcoming anxiety today. At very least, confronting. And what I gave to her as advice? Because she was talking about physical symptoms. I said "your body is just sensing something potentially unsafe, it's a biophysical reaction, you're gonna be okay." Something like that, I don't have the direct quote. I found it interesting that... that is what I decided to say. I don't know. I've been so deeply convinced in the power of narrative and will and choice, trying to dismantle and navigate the conscious thoughts, which is a crucial part of all of it... but like... this part of the nervous system is super reflexive. And it takes time and deliberate work to train your subconscious mind that things like this are safe. That you can handle it. And confidence helps a ton with that.

Alright, enough therapy talk. My plan is pretty much out the window, but I can still get to bed earlier than usual. Good day today, we'll see what tomorrow has in store. Have a good night!

[unsettlingcreature]

Hiii! For the Skyrim Themed asks: mammoth, snowberry, butterfly wing, Falkreath

Mammoth: What's your MBTI type?

I'm an ISFP/INFP, I swing between the two. I've seen some people call it IxFP?

Snowberry: Favorite random quest?

Probably speaking to Captain Aldis about Angeline's daughter? I wish we saw more of how the regular people of Skyrim struggled with the civil war; this was such a sad quest that highlighted the characters' humanity. Angeline desperately wants to find out what happened to her daughter but the captain doesn't have the heart to admit that she's dead. When you go back to the old woman, she's sad but grateful that she finally knows.

Otherwise, it's that one woman who HATES bears and will reward you for proving there are at least ten fewer bears in the world

Butterfly Wing: Favorite basegame house?

Vlindrel Hall! I actually love the look of Markarth despite how much I hate navigating the city (especially at night, fucking hell) and I think it's a really nice player home that really shows off the dwemer and stone aesthetic of Markarth.

Falkreath: How many OC's do you have?

I'm going to limit this to Skyrim ocs just because otherwise the answer is A Lot, but for Skyrim I have six main OCs.

Arielle Vilspire (bosmer dragonborn, the focus of my ongoing fic and beloved blorbo. I've been holding off on playing her save again because I need to catch up with the writing but I've hit a Hump where I can't figure out how to start the next chapter)

As he bled out, Kaidan whirled around to face her. "What the hell was that?" "You heard what he said. He didn't plan on helping us whatsoever." "You had the shot lined up before he even started running. You never intended to let him live, did you?" "Darling, did you forget who sent us on this job?" she asked, absently checking over her bow. "What do you think would happen if he also wanted Farengar's stone tablet? I was simply expediting the process." "Every time I think I figure out who you are," Kaidan said, frustration darkening his brow. "You do something that changes how I see you, and I don't mean that in a good way." "Perhaps you should stop trying to figure me out. You'll only disappoint yourself."

Nilus (breton, dragonborn. he's the one who I kept making jokes about the three weed smoking boyfriends, because I started off with Kaidan, Lucien and Inigo following him around. he basically got to stand at the back and let them do all the work, it was a really fun way to play.)

"Kai," Nilus started, the word as much to get his attention as it was a reminder, as he pressed his palms to the taller man's cheeks. "Did you forget who I am or something? I've partied with Sanguine, parlayed with Sheogorath and gotten my hands all over Meridia's beacon. And every single one of them has had their dumb little artefacts locked away in the museum. I can handle at least one or two more daedric princes."

Brannon (nord, non-dragonborn who I made when I got stuck at my partner's house over the new year. I am planning on making a modded follower with him, he's a very jokey guy but he also has sweeter moments. originally romanced Kaidan with him and the dream is to get some shared lines with Kaidan and Brannon where they have the softest and most sensual bromance)

(Potential dialogue for Brannon) "This reminds me of growing up. We used to steal cabbages from one of the local farmers. He hated us." "You know, I dated a farmer’s daughter once. She was a bit of a… well, I won’t say the pun. That’s disrespectful to farming equipment." "What kind of farming tool do you think I am? If you say a hoe, I’ll cry no matter how accurate it is."

Zeline Ashcroft (breton dragonborn, used to be part of a fic but then my game broke, from an established family of monster hunters that was separate to but sometimes worked with the Hall of the Vigilant, initially sets out of Markarth to try and find if any of her family survived) (spoilers: most of them did not)

"Well," she started. "I thought.. well, I'm from the Ashcroft family. I was going to ask whether I should take care of them." "You-! Now, young miss, your family may be well-respected for their work, but I doubt you could take them all on by yourself. No offence but the Forsworn are strong; if their axes don't get you, their magic will." "I don't intend to let them get close enough for their axes to be a problem," she countered. "And when it comes to magic… Let's just say I'm rather familiar with it myself. I'm more than capable of handling a few Forsworn."

Cyrille Ashcroft (breton non-dragonborn, sibling of Zeline who ended up making it all the way to Castle Volkihar only to become a prisoner and eventually be turned into a vampire and left to rot as the feral vampire you find there)

Cyrille knew they should have been terrified. But all they felt was relief as they thought, thank the gods, my family aren't here. Wherever they were, they weren't in Volkihar's dungeons or worse, thrown out with the corpses from their feeding habits. They still didn't know where any of them were but at least it wasn't here. "A shame," Harkon said, breaking Cyrille from their thoughts. "I had rather hoped for a bit more fear than that. Well, I suppose that will come in time, no? I look forward to seeing what someone of your… talents and lineage will turn into."

Narine Drath (dunmer dragonborn, power-hungry, I support women's wrongs, started out as me just testing out sex mods to see what they were like but I liked her being Evil And Hot) (fun fact, this was actually how I learned how to use bodyslide)

Kaidan shook his head, all tension leaving his body as a playful note entered his voice. "Do you know how terrifying you are, Dragonborn? Half the reason I waited until now was so if you set me on fire for asking, I'd have somewhere to put myself out."  "Oh please," Narine sniffed, happy to play along. "If I were going to kill you in a bathtub, I'd use some kind of electricity. Much more efficient use of magicka."  "Wouldn't that get you too?"  "Perhaps. But a slight spark in the right place at the right time can be quite... pleasurable, in certain circumstances." She watched as he rolled the idea over his mind, his throat bobbing as he swallowed at the thought.  "Good to know." 

[packetofsuga]

Kiss of Death - Corpse Fic

Prompt: “He’s a bad kisser” 

Backstory: Y/N is a streamer and secretly dating Corpse, not even their friends know. Other than Dave, of course. They’re playing proximity chat among us with Valkyrae, Toast, Sykkuno, Pewdiepie, JackSepticeye, Pokimane, Ludwig, and Dave (boyinaband). 

Genre: Fluff + humor 

Content warning: Light swearing

Word Count: 1631

A/N: Okay. First of all, writing an author’s note really threw me back to my Wattpad days but, anyway. I just wanna say feel free to send little prompt requests in my ask box for fics. I won’t write smut, I know I have for kpop artists in the past and I may write smut again in the future but for now, it’s a hard no for all fics. I will write mainly for Corpse Husband, Valkyrae, BTS, and Dream Catcher. Possibly other YouTubers or kpop groups just ask and I’ll let you know! I also will write for some book fandoms, I can’t list all of them so again just ask, please. I’ll get to requests whenever I can so please be patient while waiting. 

Until then please enjoy the random prompts I’ve found that I thought would be cute :) 

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction

You were playing among us with your friends and your boyfriend, as usual. The only difference was you were using the proximity chat mod which you had never done before. Because you guys were using that mod every time Corpse got imposter he was doing his “kiss of death” thing. 

As you loaded into the game you saw the word crewmate pop up on your screen. Everyone started joking about being a crewmate or imposter and you chuckled to yourself. “I am just a crewmate doing crewmate things. I am doing keys, because I am just a crewmate.” You stated while walking over to the keys task, knowing that you don’t even have keys this round. 

“Y/N’s faking keyyysss.” Poki called. 

“She’s just reminding everyone to fake keys, guys, everyone fake keys right now,” Sean said, moving his character on top of yours in front of keys. The was a chorus of agreements as almost everyone did the same. Once that was done you split off from the group. 

“Guys… I think it’s Poki, she didn’t fake keys.” You said to your chat, laughing to yourself. You went around doing your tasks. You came across Sykkuno in O2, “Hey Sykkuno, whatcha doing?”

He paused in the doorway of the tree room, “Oh! hi Y/N. I’m uh just doing my tasks.” 

You cleared the trash shoot, “Oh yeah? Just a crewmate doing crewmate things?” 

Sykkuno giggled, “Uh, yep. Just doing crewmate things. Hey, you- you wanna stand on this vent with me?” 

You hesitated, knowing there’s absolutely no way for you to figure out if Sykkuno is just being himself or is actually the imposter, “I- You know what yes I would love to Sykkuno.” You walked into the tree room.

“Oh- really? That… Was very enthusiastic.” The two of you walked onto the vent by the tree, stacking on top of each other, “You’re not the imposter, right? You’re not gonna kill me. 

“Oh, of course not, Sykkuno. I mean, you know, maybe.” You love making yourself look extra suspicious to him because that’s how he plays, “Here. I’ll click the spot where the kill button is and we’ll see what happens, okay?” 

“Oh, Jesus-” He gasped. 

You clicked the spot on the screen, “Hear me clicking?” You both laughed.

“Uh yeah I do, that means it can’t be you huh?” He said, “Here I’ll do it too.”  

You yelped a little as the body reported screen came up, scaring you. 

“I thought I just fucking died.” You said, trying to calm your breathing.

“Honestly, me too.” Sykkuno said, “There’s so many people dead.” 

Poki reported the body and the screen showed that Toast, Sean, and Dave were dead, “So Rae and I just walked up on Toast’s body. And I don’t think it’s Rae, I’ve been with her for a good chunk of this round.” 

“Soo it could be both of you.” You pointed out. 

“Why are you susing me right now??” Poki exclaimed. 

“You didn’t fake keys!” You yelled. 

“She’s right!” Pewds yelled, remembering that from the beginning of the round, “What the fuck, Poki?” 

Corpse laughed, “That’s a little sus Imane.” 

Poki laughed, “I can’t believe I’m getting sussed cause I didn’t fake a task.” 

“Anyways, I think it’s Rae and Poki. It definitely couldn’t have been Sykkuno, we were chilling on a vent.” You stated. Corpse hummed to himself. 

Sykkuno vouched for you, “Yep that’s true. And we did a foolproof test so it’s not either of us.” 

“What was the test?” Lud asked 

“Well, we both clicked the kill button and neither of us are dead, so.” Sykkuno pointed out. 

“You clicked the kill button?” Rae asked, “Wait, so you’re both imposters? You clearly can’t kill each other if you’re imposters.” 

You sighed, “I don’t know why Sykkuno had to say it like that but we clicked where the kill button should’ve been and nothing happened. So it’s not us.” 

“So there’s two pairs.” Corpse mused to himself. 

Pewds brought his mic really close to his mouth, “Get ‘em out of here.” 

You yelled over him, “Hold on hold on, it’s seven we can’t vote on seven. Kind of sus that you’re pushing to vote on seven.” 

“I’m not sus you’re sus.” He declared.

“Let’s skip, I’m gonna stay with Sykkuno and protect him.” Lud announced as the ‘I voted’ sticker popped up next to his name. Everyone started voting to skip. 

“If Ludwig dies it’s Sykkuno.” Pewds concluded as the timer ran out. 

“What???” Sykkuno wailed. You quickly ran to go to Lab on your own, afraid of Rae and Poki. 

Rae walked behind you into Lab, “ Ahhh- Hi please don’t kill me.” 

“No no no I would never,” Rae said, making her voice sound sarcastic on purpose as you guys walked into decontamination. You started to scream dramatically. 

“Heeeeeeelp. Heeeeellppp! She’s gonna kill me.” You pushed your character into the door to specimen, desperately waiting for it to open.  Once it finally did you rushed down into specimen and she ran after you. You ran around specimen with her chasing after you.

“Stop running. Y/N. Y/N! Hey- Stop running!” She yelled after you.

“Nooooo.” Corpse walked into specimen from the bottom and stood off to the side watching the two of you, “Coooorpse, protect me.” You yelled. He moved his character between you and Rae. 

“Yeah, uh, of course. I’ll protect you don’t worry.” He said. Rae stopped in front of him. 

“I said I wasn’t gonna kill you Y/N.” She insisted. 

You fake cried a little, “You didn’t say you couldn’t kill me though! Corpse, please. Wait-” You realized Corpse could 100% be the imposter right now, “Corpse… It’s not you is it?” 

“No no, I’m gonna protect you.” He promised. 

“....Does that mean it’s you but you’re gonna kill Rae to protect me?” You asked. They both laughed and Rae backed away from Corpse. 

“She knows too much Corpse, she knows too much!” Rae yelled. You started to scream for help again and run around. 

“Hey hey hey, relax.” Corpse said, following you. You ran towards bottom decontamination, getting stuck at the door again, “Don’t worry. Y/N, shhh. It’s okay, just-” He made a smooching noise and the kill animation popped up on your screen. 

You let out a shriek. “I can’t believe- Well, hi chat.” You giggled and started reading the chat again, “‘You got a kiss from Corpse, how do you feel?’ He’s a really bad kisser, guys. I mean it, did you see that? He kissed me and then STABBED me. An awful kisser.” You shook your head. A body was reported and the meeting screen popped up. They discussed yours and Poki’s death Corpse and Rae vouching for each other and Lud and Sykkuno vouching for each other, leaving Pewds the only one without an alibi and got him voted out. The defeat scream popped up showing Rae and Corpse as the imposters. 

Corpse POV

Before joining the lobby again he decided to read chat for a second and talk to his fans. “I’m sorry I can’t really look at chat that much while we’re doing this mod it’s just hard cause everyone can hear you, you know.” He read through the recent super-chats, thanking people as he went. He quickly scanned the rest of the chat. People were spamming that Y/N had called him a bad kisser, “Wait- she- Y/N said what??” He joined the lobby, “Y/N what the fuck?” 

“What’d I do??” Y/N questioned.

“Did you really tell your chat I’m a bad kisser? Why are you lyyyying?”  

“I-” The whole group started gasping and talking over each other, “I meant in the game! You- everyone shut up oh my god please-” 

“Okay okay okay, let her talk guys. Try and talk your way out of this Y/N.” Corpse chuckled. 

“Okay, before I get myself into a scandal. In-game, before you killed me, you gave me a little kiss. Then my chat was like how do you feel and I was like you know what, that was an awful kiss I died from it.” 

“Ohhh, that makes sense.” Corpse said. 

“Wait!” Rae interrupted, “What else would she have to go off of other than in-game?…” There was a long silence. 

Corpse was the one to break the silence. “You know what, gamer bladder. Bathroom break.” Everyone laughed and reluctantly agreed. 

Y/N POV

You tried to stay calm and talk to your chat about any other topic but your chat was going insane speculating about you and Corpse. 

Corpse came into the room and you quickly held up one finger off-camera to tell him to wait a second. 

“Uh, hold on just a second guys.” You muted your headphones and took them off. You started to work on turning your webcam off but he reached over and grabbed the arm of your chair, rolling it towards him. 

You squealed, “Corpse! What are you doing?”

“I’m a bad kisser, huh? I’m a bad kisser?” He started peppering your face with kisses. You giggled. He planted his hands on the armrests of your chair, practically trapping you in place. He raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk plastered on his lips, “Hmm?” 

You cupped his face and kissed him. He started to pull you closer to him but you pulled back, “No, you’re not a bad kisser, baby. You’re the best kisser.” He kissed you again and then went back to his filming room. You slid your chair back to your computer, pretending as if nothing happened. You put your headphones back on and scanned the chat. There were a couple of people being like we saw that hand but you ignored it and continued playing.

[pikapeppa]

Garrus Vakarian x f!Shepard: Crick

Hello friends and loved ones: I am dipping my toe into Shakarian fic. Haven’t quite decided yet how much to commit to writing this pairing in detail, so here’s a little oneshot set just after the Horizon mission in ME2. ~2400 words. (Tumblr only for now, but I’ll post on AO3 if I decide to write more.)

******************************

Garrus sighed as he made his way to the main battery room. There was a stiff feeling in the left side of his neck and shoulder when he tilted his head, and he was annoyed by it. It was his own fault, really; he’d fallen asleep at his weapons modification table again last night and woken with this crick in his neck that wouldn’t go away.

It was one of those times when he really wished he could get a proper hammer massage. There was that one place on the Citadel that did real Palavenese massage, the good kind that you really felt vibrating all the way through your carapace into your bones, but Garrus wasn’t sure if Shepard would be ordering them back to the Citadel anytime soon.

It’s just a crick, he reminded himself. It could be so much worse. The fight they’d just gone through on Horizon had been… a tough one, to say the least. Any fight with an unfamiliar new enemy could be unnerving, but seeing that Harbinger thing jumping from body to body during the fight had almost been enough to make Garrus pause.

Almost, but not quite. Archangel never hesitated or missed his shot. 

He stepped into the main battery room and took a deep breath, then released it in a satisfied sigh. The air in here smelled like clean plastic and a hint of metal, and he savoured the relaxing smell just as he did every time he stepped into this room after a hard fight. 

He flicked on the monitors and cracked the joints in his fingers, then started his usual routine of checking the gun settings – a routine that was more for comfort now than necessity, if he was being totally honest. Cerberus might be a pack of crazies doing their twisted human experiments, but they sure made a mighty fine canon. 

He finished up his calibrating routine, and he was just about to move on to studying the Collector particle rifle that Shepard had salvaged when he heard the distinct beep-and-shunk of the door unlocking. A second later, the doors slid open, and Shepard stepped through. 

She nodded briskly. “Garrus. Just checking in. You doing okay after that fight?”

“I’m just fine, Shepard,” he assured her. “I was about to start looking at your new toy here, actually.”

“That’s great,” she said. “It looks like a powerful little piece of tech. Something we can turn to our advantage, you think?”

“I don’t doubt it,” he said. “There’s nothing I find more satisfying than using the enemy’s own weapons against them.”

A small smile crossed her face, just as he’d hoped it would. He hadn’t seen a smile on her face all day, not since the Collectors had gotten away with the population of Horizon’s colony. Kaidan’s angry lecture probably hadn’t helped things, either. 

She huffed and leaned an elbow on the weapons mod table. “That’s pretty bloodthirsty of you, Garrus.” 

“Bloodthirsty? Me? Never,” he said. “Thirsty for justice, on the other hand…”

She laughed — a husky rolling sound that always reminded him, for some reason, of brandy-filled chocolates. “What a line. Did your time on Omega inspire you to dip your toe into writing noir mystery novels?”

“What if it did?” he said playfully.

“Then I’d tell you stick to your dayjob,” she replied.

It was Garrus’s turn to chuckle. Shepard smiled at him once more, then straightened up and nodded at the particle rifle. “I know you just got started here, but I’m interested to see what you find. Mind if I watch you working for a while?”

“No problem,” he said. “Might ask you to throw up a barrier for your own protection, though. This thing doesn’t use conventional heat sinks. I’m not sure yet if it can even be fully turned off.”

She nodded and cast herself a barrier with a quick clench of her fist, and Garrus got to work studying the Collector rifle. He scanned it to build a schematic and explained the exploded view to Shepard, and she frowned thoughtfully and asked questions about the weapon’s uses and disadvantages, and all the while, as he often did, he wondered what she was really thinking. 

By any objective standards, it had been a bad day. They’d just watched most of a human colony get taken away by the Collectors. Her former lieutenant had accused her of crimes against her race right after a really tough fight, and when they’d boarded the Normandy once more, the Illusive Man had told her that he’d actually incited the Collectors to target Horizon. 

If Garrus was in Shepard’s place, he’d be vibrating with anger by now. But here she was, watching him dismantle a gun with the calmest look on her face. 

A solid half hour later, when he’d finished thoroughly surveying the rifle, he tapped his visor from its analysis mode back into its resting mode and looked at her. “I think that’s about all I’m going to do with this rifle for today. You need me for anything else?”

“Nothing else for now,” she said. “Thanks for the demonstration. I’ll talk to you later.” She stepped back toward the door. 

On a sudden whim, he opened his mouth. “Shepard, hang on a second.”

She turned back to him. “What is it?”

He hesitated. Now he was wondering if the question at the tip of his tongue was too personal. He and Shepard were friends, sure, but his question might touch a bit of a sore spot, given what had happened today. If Garrus knew anything about Shepard, it was that she wasn’t much of one for talking about her feelings when missions didn’t go as expected. Not that Garrus was a talky-feely sort of guy, either, but still… 

She raised her eyebrows expectantly, and he shook himself. He’d called her to turn around; he had no choice but to ask now. “Are you doing okay?” 

Her eyebrows rose higher. “Sorry?”

“This whole Collector business on Horizon,” he clarified. “I know it didn’t go down the way we wanted, and then with the Illusive Man being, you know… illusive.” He lifted his shoulders. “It can’t have been easy.”

Her blue-black eyes crinkled at the corners. “You worrying about me, Vakarian?” 

“A little, maybe,” he said. “You’ve only taken a dig at me once today.”

Another smile flashed across her face, but it was gone a second later, smoothed back into her usual businesslike expression. “I’m all right,” she said. “It’s a hit to have lost the colony, but we’ll save the next one. I’ll make sure of it.”

He nodded. “Seeing Kaidan was a bit of a shock, huh?”

She huffed and folded her arms. “It wasn’t ideal, but that’s the way it is. He’s got his mission, and we’ve got ours. We can’t lose our focus over personal feelings.”

Garrus nodded again. Everything she was saying was reasonable and true, and her calm attitude was envious, really. If Garrus was able to keep his calm like Shepard did… well, he’d tried to channel Shepard’s calm while he was on Omega, but it had only gotten him so far. Garrus had never known anyone, human or otherwise, who kept their cool all the time quite the way Shepard did. 

And yet, for some reason, he just… he wasn’t sure. Her manner struck him as a little bit off, somehow, like the feeling of the crick in his neck.

She lifted her eyebrows. “Anything else?”

“How do you do it?” he said bluntly.

She blinked. “Do what?”

“Keep it together all the time,” he said. “You never seem uncertain. You always seem to know what you’re doing, even if you can’t possibly know. I have to admit, I envy you,” he admitted. “How is it that you always manage to keep it together?”

She didn’t reply right away. Instead, she just stared at him without speaking, and Garrus started to feel a little awkward. It was hard to tell from the look on her face, but he thought that maybe she was… was she angry? Surprised? Bored, maybe? He couldn’t quite tell. Human expressions were usually easy to interpret, with their fleshy lips stretching and pouting and their eyebrows leaping up and down. But when Shepard was in her ‘commander’ mode, she could be so damned hard to read. 

She glanced at the closed door. Then, to his surprise, she walked over to him and sat in his chair. 

She raked her long black bangs back from her face and looked up at him. “You want to know my secret?” she said.

“Secret?” he said blankly. “To what?”

“To staying calm all the time,” she said. “Can I tell you my secret?”

“Um, sure,” he said. 

She leaned toward him, and he instinctively stooped down a bit to hear her better — a good thing that he did, since her voice was low and conspiratorial when she spoke. 

“I cry in the shower,” she said.

His guts twisted in a funny way. “What?”

She leaned back in his chair. “I cry in the shower,” she said. “When something really fucked up happens, I get in the shower at the end of the day and I cry like hell.”

He stared at her wordlessly. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but it wasn’t this. 

A little smile curled the corners of her lips. “What’s wrong? Not the answer you were hoping to hear?”

“It’s — it’s not that,” he said. “I’m just, uh, surprised. You cry in the shower?”

“Yep,” she said. “Not bullshitting you, I promise. This is not a bet with Joker or anything like that.”

He tried to gather his wits. “So… what, you cry in the shower, and then you just… get back to being Commander Malin Shepard, saviour of the Citadel and resident Reaper conspiracist?”

She chuckled. “Exactly. It’s like a purge. Works perfectly every time.”

He nodded slowly, feeling like he needed some time to process this, and Shepard huffed and punched his arm in a friendly manner.  “Not so impressed with me anymore, huh?”

That wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t that he was unimpressed. But now he was actually worried about her. In all the time Garrus had known her, he had never once imagined her crying about anything. If what she was telling him was true, though…

Hang on. How often did she cry in the shower, exactly? No, he couldn’t ask that — it would definitely be overstepping. 

He scrambled to find a clever reply. “It’s not that,” he said. “Actually, I’m jealous.”

She laughed. “Jealous? Why?” Then her eyebrows rose. “Wait, can turians cry?”

“Sure,” Garrus said. “But we don’t do it often.”

“Is it hard for you to cry?” she asked.

“Well, the turian military doesn’t exactly encourage you to curl up in the corner for a little weeping time,” he said dryly.

She snorted. “Not what I meant. I was more wondering if, uh, since you have deep eye sockets, maybe your tears collect in there somewhere…?”

He flared his mandibles in amusement. “Tears don’t collect in a little reservoir under our eyes or something, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he drawled. “But yeah, we can cry. It just doesn’t happen much. Which leads me to the jealousy,” he added. “You get to sit in your shower crying whenever you feel like it? Forget the private cabin: that’s the real luxury of being the commander.”

She laughed again, more heartily this time, and the husky warmth of her laughter was such that Garrus could almost taste the sweet bite of brandy and bittersweet chocolate. “Well, if you ever want to try it sometime, let me know.”

“Try what?” he said. “Crying in the shower?”

“Yep,” she said. “You can borrow my private shower instead of using the shared showers down here, if you want. The walls are soundproof, so nobody can hear you wailing.”

For a split second, an image flashed across his mind: Shepard’s private shower. No, not just Shepard’s private shower: Shepard’s private shower, with Shepard in it. Shepard naked in the shower — what did her body look like under those clothes, he wondered? — and he, Garrus, joining her in the shower —

Wait. Wait a second. Why was he thinking about that? He shouldn’t be thinking about that. It was Shepard, for crying out loud: his friend and his CO. Who did he think he was, to imagine his human female CO naked in the shower? 

He scrambled to get his thoughts back on track. “I’ll, uh, let you know,” he said. “Might have to train my eyes how to cry, it’s been so long.”

She smirked. “Nice try, Vakarian. Something tells me you’re not quite that heartless.”

He chuckled — a little weakly, to be truthful, but Shepard didn’t seem to notice; she was rising from his chair with a smile. “Well, I should go. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later,” he echoed, and he watched her surreptitiously as she left the room. Once she was gone, he sat in his chair and closed his eyes. 

Crying in the shower… he honestly wouldn’t have guessed it. He’d expected her to give him some kind of encouraging advice or bolstering words of wisdom, like the sorts of things she said to the team before they set off on a mission. But somehow, hearing her say she cried in the shower was… interesting. It made him think about her in a different way. He was worried for sure, but also… comforted, somehow, to know that even Shepard got overwhelmed enough to cry. It seemed that under all that heavy N7 armour, she really was a regular person, too. 

Under all that heavy N7 armour… A flash of a thought projected itself on his closed eyelids: Shepard stripping off her armour, her slender human fingers raking her sweat-dampened bangs back from her face, the small bare patch at the nape of her neck where her short spiky hair faded into light golden-brown skin… 

He snapped open his eyes. Was he drifting off? He must be more tired than he thought. No other reason that he’d keep thinking about Shepard like this. 

He rose from his chair and rolled his shoulders, then clicked in his mandibles in annoyance as the crick in his neck announced itself once more. “Really could use a damned massage,” he muttered. Well, he’d just have to suck it up and wait until they got back to the Citadel.

In the meantime, he’d just have to cope with the strange nagging feeling of the crick in his neck.

[ray-ray-writings]

Stream Stresses-SBI Au

This is a Brother!Technoblade, Brother!Wilbur, Brother!Tommyinnit, and Father!Philza x gn!reader in the SBI inc Au. I hope that this is written how the anon that requested it wants it, but I’m not sure. So basically, the SBI is a real family dynamic, the thing is that all of Philza’s children, Y/N, Tommy, Techno, and Wilbur are all well known streamers and everybody’s fans know this and love the family dynamic that you four have, because you’re literally family. So yeah. Here you go, I hope you enjoy. 

Check out my masterlist here!

When Y/N makes fun of their brother, chat jumps to his defense by saying some not so nice things about Y/N. The mean things cause Y/N to shut down their stream with tears in their eyes, worrying their father, Philza.

Y/N’s POV

“Hello chat!” I exclaimed, adjusting my headphones as people slowly began to flood the chat, “How are we today?” A variety of responses flew through my chat before my question was returned to me. “How am I today? I’m doing good! Thank you for asking!” My eyes scanned my notification and I couldn’t help but smile at the subs and donos rolling through. I quickly thank everyone by name before clapping, “Okay chat, today we are going to be playing Minecraft. But we’re not going to play on the SBI server, no we’re going to attempt speedrunning!” I explained. I eagerly watched my chat explode in support, a lot of ‘POGS’ flying by my eyes. “Well let’s get started, shall we?” 

I quickly opened my Minecraft and adjusted my stream so that my viewers could see what I was doing. “What should we name the first world? Yes we’re naming them, what monster does not name their speedrun worlds?” Random names flew through the chat, until one caught my eyes. “Tommy! We’ll name this one Tommy so when it let’s me down it won’t be anything new!” I cheered, typing the name into the world box, giggling to myself. For the most part the chat found it funny, but I did see some people say some mean stuff for making fun of my brother. 

I quickly cleared my throat and shook it off, “Here we go chat!” I exclaimed before loading in the world. I spawn in an acacia biome next to a desert, “So far Tommy’s treating us pretty good huh?” I joked, rushing over to a tree and punching it. I gained a bunch of wood and then began running through the desert in search of a village. I found one rather quickly and began my raid. I got everything from the chests and then found the iron golem and hit it to get it to chase me so I could build up and kill it… Only problem is I wasn’t quick enough.

I let out screech as the iron golem flung me up in the air, dealing a crazy amount of damage to the point where when I landed, I died. I gave a quick huff and pout as I exited out of the world. “Okay… What did I say, should have been expected to be let down by Tommy!” I exclaimed, my eyes scanning the chat. A few people laughed, but a lot of them were calling me horrible. They were saying that I shouldn’t blame my inability to play the game on my brother. It caused a pain to strike in my heart, because that’s not what I was doing at all. Really mean names began flying through my chat causing me to clear my throat and look away. “Um… Let’s try again,” I mumbled, creating a new world. 

“We’re just going to keep going down the list” I announced, trying to bring my energy back up as I typed the name “Wilbur” into the world box before hitting ‘create world’ and loading in. I let my eyes dance back to chat that seemed to go back to normal, but there were still some really mean people in chat. This time I spawned in a plains biome next to a village. I got pretty far this time. I made it all the way to the nether, even found a fortress, but my excitement about it died pretty quickly… because I did too. 

“NOOO!” I shouted at the ‘You Died’ screen. “I didn’t even see that blaze there! Damn it Wilbur!” I exclaimed, exciting out of the world once more. My eyes looked over to chat again, praying that the haters had gotten bored and left… My prayers were not answered. Instead, there were probably the most amount of haters I’d ever seen in my chat before. Every message was filled with hate. Telling me that I wasn’t good enough, that I should just quit, that my brothers were so much better than I was and there was no reason for me to even continue. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t help the tears that formed in my eyes and began streaming down my cheeks. 

“Ummm… Thanks for coming. I’m going to end stream now,” I sniffed, closing Minecraft and going to my streaming settings. “Bye,” I whimpered out before ending the stream. I sat there frozen for a minute before breaking down into sob. Why do they hate me?

*POV Switch*

Philza’s POV

A grin crossed my face as my phone lit up with a twitch notification. I quickly shifted my attention to my phone screen to figure out which child it was that was going live. It was Y/N! I quickly set up my phone in such a way that I could ‘watch’ their stream while I made dinner for everyone. “Hello chat!” I heard them exclaim, “How are we today!” 

It really warmed my heart to watch my children stream. All four of them had worked extremely hard to get where they are today. I did everything I could to understand the Twitch community so I could support my children as they achieved their dreams. Sure it was hard at times, me trying to keep up with everything in all their streams but also when they’re all streaming at the same time and just screaming at each other, but we make it work. 

My focus turned to the food that I was making. Footsteps entered the kitchen pulling my attention away from the stream, “Hey Dadza,” Techno’s monotone voice greeted me from behind. “Hello Techno,” I greeted back, throwing him a smile over my shoulder. “Is Y/N streaming?” Techno asked, walking to the refrigerator, pulling it open and grabbing a water bottle. I nodded my head at the question. “Yeah, they’re speed running,” I responded, turning my head back to the veggies I was cutting for dinner. Techno let out a hum before turning his attention to my phone. 

As I cooked, I could hear Techno let out small laughs at what they’re sibling was saying on their stream. Twentyish minutes had gone by before Techno spoke actual words, “What the fuck,” He muttered, getting closer to my phone. “Language… What’s going on?” I asked, still focused on making dinner. “Y/N is crying,” He explained. My head snapped to my phone and sure enough, tears were streaming down their face. “Bye” they croaked out before the stream just ended. Not wasting any more time, I grabbed my phone and I ran out of the kitchen and toward Y/N’s room. 

As I grew closer, I could hear sobs coming from their room causing my heart to sink in my chest. I gave a quick knock on the door before barreling in. Y/N was still sitting in their gaming chair, hunched over into themselves, their hands muffiling the sobs falling from their lips. “Oh honey,” I whispered, closing the door behind me. Y/N’s head shot up and their red rimmed eyes met mine. Another loud sob broke from their mouth causing my heart to hurt even more. I took a few quick steps forward to get to them and offer them comfort. Y/N rose from their gaming chair and fell into my open arms. I quickly wrapped my arms around them in a tight hug. “I’ve got you honey,” I murmured, “I’ve got you.”

At some point, I slowly made my way to their bed and sat down, leaning against the headboard, pulling them to sit across my lap, burying their face in my chest like all those years ago when they were a lot younger. I couldn’t help but be reminded of the afternoons that they and their brothers would go outside to play and ride bikes and they would come back in with scraped and bloodied knees and palms. I would pull them into my lap, dry their tears, and help them calm down. It’s a bittersweet memory. It feels nice to think back, but under these circumstances? Not so much. 

Slowly but surely, Y/N’s sobs died down into simple sniffles before stopping all together. “You okay?” I questioned softly, leaning back ever so slightly so I could meet my child’s eyes. Their puffy ears peered up as they slowly nodded, “Yeah. I’ll be okay,” they muttered out resting their head back on my shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?” I asked carefully, not wanting to upset them again. A soft sigh left Y/N’s mouth, “I suppose I should. It’s best not to bottle it up,” they thought aloud causing me to smile just a little bit. A small bit of pride welled up inside me of how grown up they sounded. 

The smile quickly faded from my lips as my child explained what had happened on their stream. How chat had turned on them and the mean things that they said. I could feel my blood begin to boil. I was extremely pissed at not only chat, but at the mods for not stopping it. But I had to remain calm on the outside, for Y/N’s sake. 

“I’m so sorry that happened honey. You don’t deserve that. Nothing they said is true okay? You work so hard and it shows because you’re so good at what you do. Your brothers are good at what they do too. You guys are on equal playing feels and are all exceptional streamers. You deserve all good things honey. And I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to mod. You’re never streaming without me modding again. Do you understand me?” I rambled, staring at my child curled in my lap. A small giggle sounded in the air causing me to relax ever so slightly. “Yeah. I understand you dad… Thank you.” 

Before I could respond, there was a small knock on the door. “Come in,” Y/N called, staring curiously at the door. It swung open and there stood my three other children peering nervously into the room. After standing in the doorway in an awkward silence for a moment, Tommy lets out a loud scoff before pushing his way into the room and crawls up on the best next to us. Tommy then surprises me by wrapping his arms around his sibling and gives them a tight squeeze, “You’re a good streamer Y/N,” I heard him mumble in his sibling's ear. “Chat can be just a little stupid sometimes.” Another giggle passes through their lips as Y/N slides off of my lap and sits in between Tommy and I. “Thanks Tommy,” they whisper back, turning their body to properly hug their brother back. 

The closing of the door pulled my attention away from my youngest two. Wilbur and Techno were now also completely in the room and were heading toward the bed as well. I moved over so that one of them could sit in between Y/N and I and the other could go sit next to Tommy. Wilbur took the place beside me, sending Techno over by Tommy. Not saying anything, Wilbur turned his body and reached over and wrapped his long arms around Y/N and Tommy, trapping them in their own hug. For the first time ever, neither of them complained. Neither told him to get off, simply just accepted the affection from their brother. 

And to my surprise and delight, Techno leaned onto Tommy and wrapped his arms around the two as well, his arms only able to wrap around Y/N. The four didn’t say anything as they laid in the cuddle pile. I couldn’t stop the tears that formed in my eyes. They hadn’t done this in years. Before Wilbur and Techno hit their teen years, the four of them would cuddle in piles like this all the time. When I couldn’t find any of them, I would only have to find one to find all of them. But once the teen years began, the two eldest felt that they were too cool to cuddle with their siblings and the piles came to a stop. It warms my heart to see them do this, even if it’s under really shitty circumstances. 

One by one, their breathing evened out. One by one, they fell asleep. Once I was sure all were asleep, I slowly and carefully got off of the bed and managed to do so without waking any of them. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, made sure the ringer and flash were off, before snapping many photos. I didn’t plan on sharing them with everyone, they were just for me to have and to hold. Maybe I’ll print one and put it in my office. 

I carefully slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind me before heading back to the kitchen. The kitchen was exactly how I left it when I fled to Y/N’s room after seeing them cry. As quietly as I could, I put everything away. I decided I was no longer in a mood to cook. Besides, on days like today, I think Y/N deserves to have their favorite carry out… Don’t you?

I don’t know if I liked how this one turned out, so let me know what you think! Leave a like if you did enjoy it and maybe even reply or reblog or even send me an ask telling me what you thought!!

[idw-sonic-fan-blog]

The Mandates

Just wanted to share my thoughts on the pro-ported mandates because they cast a shadow on this comic.

“Game characters cannot have relatives unless they were estabilished in the game canon, i.e. Cream and her mother.”

This one is understandable and you can blame Penders for this. Mind you that most licensed comics of gaming franchises don’t actually delve too much in personal family relationships or expand on them. So this is expected and honestly Sega should have put the screws on Archie decades ago about this.

“Game characters can not die. There are workarounds for this, such as being Mistaken for Dying or "Mistaken For Dead”

Again. Yes. Not a big deal.

“Game characters cannot have wardrobe changes unless approved. Chao Races and Badnik Bases has some characters (mainly the female game characters) wear different clothes for extreme conditions. Male characters remain the same.”

This is a useless rule but whatever. I mean Sega, you are the ones putting bad wardrobe choices on the characters so again it’s whatever.

“Sonic can't be shown getting too emotional (i.e;cry)”

This is one that it complained about because it really wouldn’t matter unless it is called attention to. A lot of superheroes don’t cry. But that doesn’t prohibit them from expressing themselves. IDW Sonic has been sad. He has been pissed. He has been furious.

Is this not too emotional?

Is he not expressing himself appropriately?

I don’t even know why this is brought up. When in this comic has Sonic not been expressive or displaying the appropriate amount of emotion? When did Sonic needing to cry be necessary?

“Game characters cannot enter in a relationship.”

Oh GOD YES. Don’t threaten me with a good time.

“All major Character Development must be approved by SEGA.”

Yeah, of course. Let me remind you that Penders and Archie ruined any strand of trust Sega could have in comic media. They played loose at first and all of the sudden, they are involved in a lawsuit about characters in a Sonic comic that they didn’t even know about. They probably lost a video game business relationship because of it. If they want to be involved in the comics, fine. That means that they are now forced to World Build. They have to invest in it now and not just be like Lucas Films and let anybody do anything with their flagship title.

“Much like the post-reboot of the Archie comic, the words "Mobius" is banned—the planet is simply called "Sonic's World". Unlike the Post-Boot, which allowed the names "Mobian" and "Mobini", anything related to Mobius is banned in this comic.”

…Of course but how about you throw the writer’s a bone and I don’t know, name the fucking planet. If it is not Earth, give it a name.

“Sonic must always win at the end. Even if he and his friends are at the losing end in an overarching story (the Metal Virus arc, for example), they must come out on top when it concludes.”

I don’t even get this rule and the knee jerk hatred for it. Why even have it? Why even share the existence of this rule? Archie Sonic didn’t really lose too bad. It’s more on how you frame a victory. The fact of the matter is that Eggman is still actively trying to conquer the planet. Sonic stops him but Eggman still has control of land and has military installations all over.

This rule is offset by this. While Sonic can’t lose, Sonic can’t completely win.

“Characters and material from other licensed properties (Sonic the Comic, Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comics), Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog, Sonic the Hedgehog (SatAM)', Sonic Underground, the OVA, Sonic X and the Paramount films cannot be used. This rule extends to characters and redesigns done by the current writers. The only exception is Sticks from Sonic Boom, and that's because she was created by SEGA themselves and showed up in non-Boom media, but any ideas regarding her use still need to be okayed by SEGA.”

First off I am glad that Sticks was spared by this rule and I look forward to her eventual inclusion. Second, again, this is not much of a big deal as it was expected. Sorry Freedom Fighter fans but honestly deal.

“Male characters, sans Eggman, can't wear pants, which was also a thing in the Post-Reboot, albeit never explicitly stated. The inverse is also true; female characters have to have some form of lower clothing.”

Okay this is a pedantic rule. It is so weird with how precise it is. Like…huh?

“Classic characters such as Mighty, Ray, Nack/Fang, Bean, and Bark won't appear in non-Classic issues, as Sega doesn't want Classic and Modern Sonic to mix.”

One of the most bullshit mandates fueled by the nostalgia boner fans created. Like this is stupid because Archie Modern Sonic has added more character and depth to all of these mentioned characters than any of the Sega Sonic games they appeared in which only amounts to 1 or 2 at most. Why neuter your own potential stories with this stupid limitation?

“According to Ian Flynn, a specific incident involving Shadow's characterization when he's exposed to the Zombot infection was written in a specific way because of Sega mandating that he be written as an "overconfident asshole rival" character, similar to Vegeta. He later followed up with an explanation that out of every character, Shadow has the most mandates and notes attached to how he's portrayed. According to the podcast, Sega says that Team Dark is no longer a thing. The three members are not a team and they have never worked for G.U.N.; Shadow also doesn't even consider them friends.”

This is my opinion is the worst rule. First it’s contradictory to the character Sega introduced us to. Stop trying to be like Dragon Ball for once and actually be your own thing. It’s one thing if we are changing it because Shadow was unpopular because of his personality. But no one likes this Shadow. People miss the somber but reserved Hedgehog that continued to fight in spite of the world betraying him. Hothead Shadow is a cheap Knuckles. And I don’t even understand why Shadow even has so many mandates when he wasn’t the most egregious offender. Knuckles was.

Also, Team Dark aren’t a thing and Shadow doesn’t even consider them to be his friends. First off that doesn’t even fly in your own games. Who outside of Sonic does Shadow interact the most? Rouge. They have teamed up and were a packaged duo since their inception. When Shadow appeared, Rouge appeared right next to him. If Rouge was in a game, so was Shadow.

Team Dark or just Rouge has fought alongside Shadow in every game they appeared in. Who else does Shadow talk to if not Rouge?

“Sega has stated to Flynn that only male hedgehogs are allowed to go Super with the Chaos Emeralds.”

Except in Sonic Mania.

“Ian isn't allowed to directly reference a game, since the comic is supposed to be its own thing.”

Okay. Not only is this rule stupid. But it’s untrue.

This references the end of Sonic Forces.

The first page of comic.

It has referenced Sonic Adventure, SA2, Sonic Generations , and Sonic Unleashed.

This referencing Shadow the Hedgehog.

I don’t believe this rule exists and even if it did, it is dumbest rule since the whole point of this comic is to base it off the games more. The dumbest rule.

“Knuckles is not allowed to leave Angel Island unless he has a very good reason to.”

For decades, people have complained that Knuckles routinely leaves the island. For decades. Now does this mean Sega is going to 1. Use Knuckles and 2. Amplify the importance of Angel Island and the Master Emerald? No. Again, this criticism should be levied at Sega because they often conveniently forget Knuckles purpose and just hand wave it instead of giving Knuckles more to do on the island like I don’t know, have other entities invested in attacking him.

In summary, here is what I think is going on. Do I think most of these mandates are real? Yes. Given what happened to Archie, I do think Sega is doing some brand alignment. I think they got the clamps on.

But what I think is going on is a Japanese cultural thing called Power Harassment. It is normalized abuse of power. Sega of Japan is normally laxxed about their brands. They don’t mind blatant rip-offs of their mascot nor do they get stiff about fandom creations or mods. The comic division, however, is getting tough love because not only did it cost them a publishing deal, but ruined a relationship with a high end developer. So the IDW writers and staff are being subjected to intentionally hypocritical rules and strict mandates that they know don’t make sense until they’ve shown to be obedient.

A lot of the mandates aren’t strict. But some are so asinine that I don’t think they aren’t aware with how stupid they sound imposing those rules. Like Shadow is the most narratively complete Sonic character and yet, Sega puts this tight mandate as if Archie Shadow was the most egregious thing. Archie Shadow was overpowered. He wasn’t out of character like Sonic, Knuckles, and Tails were. They can’t be that stupid or be that intentionally dense. So they want to see if the writing crew can follow orders. That’s it.

But that’s just my take.

[owaowabetch]

Minecraft Part 2 (Sykkuno x F!Reader)

Oneshot (maybe part of a series??? at this point probs): Chaos in the server, Will a deal entice you to become part of the comfy cartel? Or will you resist the temptation of the deal and side with the resistance? Friendship and a lil romance (oohhh things are starting to heat up)

Warning:Non beta (cuz we baddies purr); part of Uh-oh & Impasta

You had been streaming Minecraft for about 4 hours when you decided to end it for a small meal break. Though ending stream didn’t stop you from continuing playing with your friends. Unfortunately, Sykkuno had not been on while you were streaming, since you did so quite earlier than usual, but you wanted to remodel your minecraft home; turning the once pink wooden home to a white quartz block using the obscene amount of quartz that Jae gifted you as to entice you to join his faction in the sever. It was a nice bribe gift, but you have yet to align yourself with the ressistance or the comfy cartel. 

So, while gettin gifted quartz blocks was nice, hearing that Toast gave Lily a gun enticed you more.But you doubt Toast’s whole character arc will entrust you with one. You maybe be living with his ‘right-hand’ man, but he seems to be slowly on a downward spiral. Kind of like a crazy wacky scientist- he’s doofenshmirtz. 

Anyways you had completed the finishing touches on your remodeled, when you saw in the little chat that Sykkuno was on. “ OH!OH!OH! SYKKUNO!”

You were excited to show him the newly made house. The house was three levels to your house, but you’re mostly wanna show him the basement area.

You saw the iconic teal shirt paired with the green stripped scarf boxy figure making their way towards you. You emoted the cheering pose and happily called out to him “Hi Sykkuno!” 

“Hey, Y/n!” He cheered back coming closer “I have something for you!” 

You start jumping up and down “Present!” You like getting free things, especially if it comes from someone you like....as a friend of course. Yup yup, just as a friend. As, he stood in front of you he laughed “What are you doing?” watching your character wave their arms around

You laughed back at him “Just happy to see you!”

“Well, I’m always happy to see you!” Sykkuno chirps out and adds on with a slight stutter “C-cause we’re friends! I’m always happy to see such a great friend!”

Feeling the high of him telling you how he was always happy to see you was crushed by him reminding you that friends is all that you both may only ever be. So with the disappointment lingering and the excitement wearing off, you just mutter a reply back. “Yes! The bestest of friends!”

“Yup, yup. Anyways have some water mills” He throws some black blocks with blue markings on them “Follow me!” You both ran near your home “Claim this bit of land” and you did so. “Now, dig like a 3 by 6 hole and place two water mills close to each corner and one in the middle bottom”(1). You followed his instructions “Ok, so im just gunna place the water” You watched him do so “Ok! I think it’s all good and ready to go!”

You crouch and inch around the hole “What is it?”

“Ok well you know how I got you that green lasso that has you swinging and jumping all over the place with the slime boots?” Sykkuno asks crounching up right beside you 

“Yea yea!” You crouch and uncrouch in circles around him

“Well I have something even better!” He cheers “Eh” he grunts and throws a ring on the floor. You awe and oh as you put the ring in your hot bar “How cute! It has little wings on it!” 

“Yea! It’s a special ring” Sykkuno tells you 

“Special ring?...Are you proposing to me! OMG Sykkuno” You joke 

“Wah?” Spluttering out in confusion but deciding to play along “I mean are you accepting?”

You laugh “Woah, Sy! How bold of you sir”

He giggles back to you before teaching you how and where to put the ring. “OK do you have it on?”

You jump up and down in response allowing the slime boots to spring you up higher. “Yup Yup”

“Ok so, why don’t you take off your slime boots and then press the space bar” He jumps up and down, which you do. You gasp as you are lifted into the air “Sy! Look! Im flying!!” He is in the air next to you “I can see! Cause I am also flying!”

“How are we doing this! This is so fucking cool!” You laugh as you start moving around in the air “WAIT! Are you streaming? I’m so sorry!”

He laughs as he starts following you around in the air “It’s fine, but the ring I gave you is an angel ring. As long as your wearing it, then you can just fly around”

“Wow! Thanks Sykkuno!” You cheer and you walk around in the air “Clean! Clean!” 

“Yea, Of Course! It’ll be alot easier for you to get to places faster” He explains once more “Now, my chat has been going crazy and telling me that you redid our house?”

Excitement lit through you as you were ready to show him the remodeling works that you’ve done “Yes! I did! I’m so excited to show you” You move your camera out of first person and notice your character wearing a pair of white wings on your back “Oh my god! Sykkuno! I didn’t know that there was actual wings that appear on your lil person!”

“uh yea! I didn’t know if you wanted to have or not, cause mine are invisible” Sykkuno says flying next to you as you make the short distance back to your home “but i remembered you saying that you wanted to buy fairy wings. I could’ve made them pink to look like them, but i thought the white ones would suit you better”

“Cause i’m such an angel?” You tease as you reached your front door

“Well uh you are um a nice person” Hearing the shyness in his tone made you think that he was being sincere and it made you blush “Thank you Sykkuno, you’re one of the best people i know!”

He clears his throat “uh well um, look we made it!” trying to divert the conversation away from the compliments. You made a mental note to yourself to compliment him more, so that his confidence rises up and he no longer shies away from them.

“Yup!” You open the door “come on in!” He oh’ed as he came in, seeing the kitchen area first “As you can see Sy and chat, I have created a kitchen with actual fucking oven and fridge! How crazy is that! These mods are cool!”

“So, yeah! Kitchen area, though I doubt we’ll use it” You comment

“Wow! a fridge! Neat!” He opened the fridge and looked at the decor of other kitchen appliances 

You laugh at his wording “ Yup! and this is our living room slash library” leading him further into the house and showing him the sitting area with a bunch of bookcases surrounding the fake chairs “and right next to this is the ‘dining room’ where more seats were placed with a table and a cute flower in a pot atop the table. “So, yea this is the first floor!” 

“This is cool! Oh! it’s [y/f/flower] on the table” He notes and you nod feeling your cheeks flush a bit before admitting “of course! It’s actually the flower you gave me on our first day...”

“thats, thats really cool that you kept it” Sykkuno replies and there is a bit of silence between the two of you. Not awkward but almost in a content kind of way. Peaceful if you will. 

“Ok! Now lets head upstairs! It’s where we sleep!” You say walking up the stairs showing him the green beds placed next to each other “I didn’t know if you wanted to sleep next to each other again, but i did it anyways lol” 

He walked around the room and admired the little decor spread around the walls and opened chests in the room. He laughed awkwardly “it’s fine, it’s just a respawn point so its no biggie!”

“Yea to sleepovers!” You cheer 

Clearing his throat he noted how much he liked the room, causing you to smile and thank him “But i know what you’ve been wanting to see the most!”

“What do you mean?” He questioned and looked at you 

“The basement! Dun Dun DUN!” You jump at him scooting him down the stairs

He laughed in disbelief “What was that? Did you just hit me?”

“Nope” Emphasizing the p “ I just jumped at you which caused you to go down the stairs! I could never hurt you Sy!”

“Well I could never hurt you too” He mutters back and you pouted at how cute his response was

“Oh! You could just make your way down there! I forgot that Jae wanted me to give him some quartz back!” You gasp remembering what Jae had told you

“What do you mean?” His character looks back at you

And you look back at his and think “hmmm I don’t know if I should snitch or not, but Jae gave me an obsence amount of quartz blocks to build the house! I knew it was a little hard for you to get some, so he offered to give me some”

He hummed back “I see....” 

You noted how the atmosphere tensed for a split moment until Sykkuno happily noted that it was nice of him to give you something he couldn’t, but it sounded a bit off to you. Though you didn’t pay much attention to that since you didn’t want to reveal the resistance, as you have yet to align yourself with any of the two factions, well soon to be three since you believe that Sydney is doing some witchy stuff.

“Well, why don’t you go do that while I check the basement and give something to toast really quick!” He tells you 

“Ok!” You reply back to him rifling through your chests to find the remaining the blocks to give to Jae “I’ll see you in a bit, maybe toast too!”

With that you made your way back to Jae to hand him the quartz back, though it was quite an ordeal since he made a whole rant on how evil the comfy cartel were and how you should join them and become a spy cause apparently Toast is planning on doing something that could affect the entire server....

So you just ignored all of that and made your way back home, to have Toast and Sykkuno greet you at the front door.

“Hey guys! Im back” You cheer at them

“What did Jae want huh?!?!” Toast immediately questions you “Did you tell him any of our business huh? Should we be trusting you huh? huh? HUH!?!”

“Whoa Toast” You back up as he was getting all up in your face

“Wow Toast, are you okay?” Sykkuno places himself between you two 

“Im doing just fine” Toast answers back and you notice his full gear armor “Just wanted to know if we have a rat here”

You tsk “wow Toast, I see how it is. I see. By the way you look like a Power Rangers villan, just sayin”

He takes out his gun and points it at you “Well you won’t be sayin much Motherfucka!”

“I won’t say anything at all if you give me a gun to join the comfy cartel” You hit Sykkuno away and hear him utter an ow “Cause I don’t have an allegiance with anyone at the moment. So I’m a free agent and I can talk to whoever whenever” Throwing his words back at him and implying that you can speak to anyone without repercussions.

“AH right you are not part of the comfy cartel yet” He nods to himself “Well I wont give you a gun to join the group cause frankly I know that you’ll just shoot me”

You sigh “Then i’-”

“Instead!” He interrupts you “I’ll give you something better!” 

You pout “but i wanna cap a bitch”

“Instead of cappin’ you’ll be rackin’ cause you’re gunna have to collect taxes from people and in exchange you get the left hand of my right hand” He moves closer to you, that statement throw you through a loop ‘left hand?right hand?’. You were confusion. “Capiche?”

“What do you mean?” You question and he evil laughs and hits sykkuno.

“Wha? What was that Toast” Sykkuno also confused as to why Toast hit him and what Toast meant.

“I’m saying that you can have Sykkuno!” He evil laughs once more 

Sykkuno splutters “Wha? What do you mean Toast?!?!”

You were shocked at what he said. Giving you Sykkuno? “What do you mean?”

“You can marry Sykkuno” He repeats himself once more “You are both important to each other, why else live together? This way I’m keeping you both in check” and once again with the evil laughter

‘I’m glad im not streaming otherwise some of the more entitled fangirls would 100% send hate comments to me’ you think to yourself

You hum “Will I still get a gun?”

“Only if you can become my number one marksmen and execute the people I tell you too” He offers you

“Deal” You nod to yourself 

“Wha? [Y/N]?” Sykkuno sputters out “You’re ok with this?” and nodding to yourself you reply with a yes and asks him if he is also “Well I- uh I” he continues to laugh awkwardly “I mean uh sure?”

“Neat!” You reply throwing a diamond at him “Here’s your dowry lol”

Though before another conversation could happen Toast butts in once more “This was a test and you both passed” and throws a gun at you “Here take this one, prove yourself and I’ll get you a better one”

You put the gun in your hot bar and place it in your hand. “Clean!” You start point it in different directions “Thanks! Toast!”

“Don’t betray me or else you gets the hose!” He starts walking backwards then comes back up to you “Oh, also your target is Leslie, be sure to collect her taxes before killing her.” Walking backwards once more before coming back “Oh Sykkuno hand me the diamond [y/n] gave you.” He does so “Ok that’ll be your last tax payment until I have you look for materials for a special project” He evil laughs as he flies away

“OK! Great talk!” You call out and emote the happy one, with your arms lifted up and shaking about “Awesome! I get a gun muahahahaha!”

You hear Sykkuno clear his throat “so uh, you were ok with marrying me?”

“Yea! so were you!” You say as you move you camera around trying to find a good angle to see it properly

“Because you were!” He replies back and that took you aback a bit as you didn’t realize how uncomfortable it may have been for him.

“Well you didn’t have too if you didn’t want to” You felt a bit embarrassed at the fact that he did it because you wanted to but not he himself personally

“Wha, well I didn’t think you were being serious” Once again laughing awkwardly “Cause you know girls aren’t in- OW”

You shot him with the gun in annoyance.

‘Bitches are into you Sykkuno’ You screamed in your head ‘I‘M BITCHES!’

 Author’s Note:

Side Note 1 - I dont know if this is correct lol

No cap but i had written half of this like 3 days after writing Part 1 but I got lazy lmao sorry! Also this is gunna be a slowburn story cuz lets be real our smol bean and all of our asses are awkward as hell and kind insecure in the romantic aspect, so realistically it would not be fast paced.

So here it is Minecraft pt.2/4

Tags: @sushiims

[houseofsimps]

Hi! I don't see alot of jotaro stuff so im happy I came across you. Can I get a fic of jotaro and a insecure chubby s/o and how he would make them feel better by worshipping then in his own way and ends up turning a bit feral? Thank you!

-suki

Mod bone here and as someone who ADORES this idea and am a jotaro simp as a chubbier person with body image issues this made me v happy to write i hope you enjoy

CW// reader not eating mentioned, afab reader, HEAVY SMUT, body image issues and self doubt :)

Jotaro had been out of town for a bit on a small trip for work while you had been fine the whole time he had been gone something felt off today, you look in the mirror seeing stretch marks that were o your lower stomach and thighs suddenly you were seeing every flaw in you whether it be a birthmark, a stretch mark, cellulite, or just your weight overall you were NOT feeling it today. Your eyes start to sting a bit not realizing you were about to cry, 'shit Jotaro comes home today I need to make sure everything is good around here' you wipe your eyes and clean up the house for a while as a distraction it must've been a while as suddenly you heard keys in the door like a small puppy waiting for their owner your head shot up looking over  seeing Jotaro walking into your shared bedroom laying his bag on the floor and worrying about it later. He walked back into the room coming behind you hugging you for a moment "y/n I missed you I'm sorry i was gone for so long small trip turned into 2 weeks" he said he was obviously tired from the trip as he wasn't usually this affectionate  "Its okay it isn't your fault that it got extended" you reply leaning into his touch suddenly he steps in front of you and looks at you for a small moment "are you alright you seem a bit pale, are you not eating again?" a small sigh escapes your lips 'how was he able to tell so quickly it was only today I hadn't eaten' you slowly nod your head knowing he was going to be worried "I'm sorry Jotaro I haven't eaten today I've been eating fine the rest of the time just uh not today, its been one of those days" he looks at you for a second before kissing you on the forehead and lifting you up "I'm gonna show you just how pretty you are to me okay I hate when you talk about yourself like that  you are beautiful in every way inside and out" you were too focused on his words to even realize the tears you had in your eyes until you felt a few drop down on your cheeks. Jotaro carries you to your room and lays you down on the bed "can I undress you? I wont do this if you aren't okay with it" he has always asked for consent before he touched you intimately it was pretty cute knowing it was cause he felt awkward doing it without you telling him "Yeah you can, Jotaro you don't have to do thi-" "y/n i want to do this I want to show you how much i care about you do please let me do this" "Okay then go for it" with a small hum of acknowledgement he takes off your shirt and pants leaving you in just your panties you weren't wearing a bra due to you being just in PJ's all day. Jotaro lowers himself down hovering over you before kissing you passionately and gently making sure you knew how much he loved and appreciated you as usual his lips are electric always leaving you wanting more of him as he kisses your lips he kisses down your body between your breasts, on your nipples, your stomach, every stretch mark, beauty mark, and mark in general he can find. whining slightly at his actions you realized what this would lead to and quite frankly you missed it having his body on yours as he kissed down your thighs he looks at you the wholesome but lust look was replaced with something you could only describe as  feral, hungry, and lustful. "can I please- I know i never said we would go this far tonight but can i please fuck you I missed you so fuckin much i need you" Jotaro? Begging? That's a first but honestly you couldnt care less  "please i've missed you so much i need it too" with that Jotaro's impatience got the better of him using star platinum to quickly rip off your underwear moving to the side quickly flicking his tongue onto your clit making you whimper at the sudden pleasure attaching his mouth onto your wet cunt licking and sucking making you quickly feel in complete ecstasy moaning out his name and praises while tangling a hand into his hair while he takes his tongue and starts pumping it into as far as he can breathless and moaning in lust you fumble out the words "J-Jotaro fuck please I need you inside me not your tongue but your cock please" he looks up at you and quickly shuffles to the side and quickly getting off his boxers and pants taking the head and quickly gliding it between your folds for extra lubricant before lining up with your entrance and pushing himself into you letting you adjust for a few seconds thrusting intensely making sure you get as much pleasure as you can without being bruised in the cervix suddenly a loud moan causing your voice to crack a bit ripped through your throat as your body starts to shake and pulse while your pussy tightens around his erect member making him stutter in his movements as your legs shake and you pulse around him he keeps thrusting chasing his high before burying himself inside you cumming the hardest he had in a while. While puling out of you to go get a towel and clean you both up he comes back to see you shaking and having a mix of your cum and his leaking out of you least to say the sight itself was erotic he comes over and cleans you up and runs a warm bath "hey you okay y/n you've been shaking for a minute now" his concern evident in his voice "I'm okay just been a while since we've done that" he chuckles lightly "I guess it has since I've been gone for a while but I'm just glad you know how much i love and appreciate you now" you smile a bit "I know you love me Jotaro i guess i just needed a small reminder" you two wash each others hair and take a shower together after you go grab snacks and curl up on the bed with blankets "Jotaro? you coming back" "I'll be there in just a minute I'm just grabbing my water bottle" as he walks back with his water he sees you curled up in bed "cuddles?" you ask with a pleading look "Yare yare daze come here" he says as he lays next to you. once again typical tsundere Jotaro was back.

[tma-ficrec]

Five All Time Mod Recs

To start off this blog, we decided to submit ourselves to the mortifying ordeal of being known and show y’all our TMA top fic recs!

These are fics of very different premises and categories that stayed with us and soothed our souls. Feel free to ask for more recs (or more specific stuff) because we’re definitely not done. Enjoy!

Mod Ami:

Statement Ends  by @martivist 4k words. Jonmartin. Angst. Post-canon AU. Ending Speculation. Lore speculation. S5 AU.

"Final statement of Jonathan Sims. The Archivist. Statement given… I think it’s June? We haven’t done very well counting time since the days stopped. Summer 2019, call it that. Statement begins.

We’ve found a way to send them back where they came from. All of them."

Forty-some years after the apocalypse abruptly ends, the final acts of Jonathan Sims and Martin Blackwood come to light.

Mod note: This fic... goddamit this fic. I read it halfway through s5 and I genuinely think this is one of the best endings the show could have had. It hit all the points Jonny made and then some. This fic is pain, yes, but the best kind.

Ninety Feet To Home by @judesstfrancis 33k words. Jonmartin. No Powers AU. Baseball Players AU. Fluff. Pining.

Jon isn’t really Martin Blackwood’s biggest fan. And he knows it’s a him problem, because it’s not like Blackwood is a terrible person or like he loses on purposes just to ruin Jon’s life, but he can’t help it. In his defense, if you were on a hot streak and the same person kept coming in and ruining it for you every single time, you'd harbor a bit of resentment towards them, too.

Mod note: I’m so obsessed with this AU that I broke my vow of not making fanart for TMA and made fanart of it. Yeah. Sue me. It’s the perfect levels of pining, ridiculousness and it brought me (an argentinian whose only baseball reference is the HSM musical number) tremendous joy. As the us-statians would say: home fucking run. ALSO, MARTIN BLACKWOOD IS LATINOOOOO.

Maybe not the stuff of legend by imperfectcircle. 14k words. Jonmartin. Post-canon AU. S5 AU. Ending Speculation. Lore speculation. Angst with a Happy Ending.

Martin forgets slowly at first, and then all at once. One moment he's grasping at memories, desperate without knowing why to retain even a single image of an angry, scarred stranger saying incomprehensible things about eyes, and the next, nothing. He can't even remember what had him so anxious just now. A car alarm, probably, or a dog barking in the distance. He's always startled easily.

Mod note: I still quote it to myself from time to time. ‘’Martin, you ate the megalodon’’ makes me giggle and also terribly sad. This is an excellent way of exploring entities lore, as well as grief and hope. 

the garden of forking paths by @bibliocratic. 49k words. Jonmartin. Post-canon AU. Ending Speculation. Angst with a Happy Ending. Use of Spiral Doors.

Whatever he had predicted might happen, Jon wasn't expecting to survive upon demolishing the Panopticon. He certainly wasn't expecting to be rescued.

Instead, he wakes up in an alternative universe where he's never been the Archivist, and Martin Blackwood doesn't exist.

Martin Blackwood wakes up somewhere else entirely.

Mod note: I’m argentinian and the major element in this story is a Borgues book. OF COURSE IT’S HERE. This fic is an absolute ride and so so so beautiful - multiple universes and Jon and Martin doing the same thing over and over and over again, with hope of finding each other.

Family, Found  by Dribbledscribbles. Gen fic. 9k words. S4 Divergent. Canon Divergence. 

It’s Basira who catches onto it.

The collective shift that seems to come over them when heading in or out of the Institute. Not just the oppressive sensation of being observed, their every move catalogued for the voyeuristic cravings of some unseen Eye(s). That feeling remained with them even when they left the Institute these days, but it was always stronger inside its walls. That wasn’t the change. Nor was it the point.

The point was: making life worse for Jonathan Sims.

Mod note: Do you want to hit the Eye? Do you want all the Entities’s plans to be twarted by the power of found family? Do you want everyone who blamed Jon for everything in S4 to sit down and apologise? This is your fic.

Mod Ebby:

the apple of the eye by  gocrazygostupid. 2.8k words. Fluff. Lore speculation.

TELL ME, ARCHIVIST

WHAT IS YOUR FAVOURITE SONG?

i'm not sure. i don't really get the chance to listen to music

if i told you, what would you do with it?

Mod note: I am absolutely weak towards any fic that gives the Entities some form of sentience, no matter what canon said. Especially when these interactions are so surprisingly soft. 

I WOULD PLAY IT

I WOULD LISTEN

in the chillest land and on the strangest sea by  imperfectcircle and raven (singlecrow). 19k words. S4 Divergent. Canon divergence, in the space between 159-160

Jon remembers a statement he read years ago given by a Jesuit priest, who said that the shortest prayer he knew was, just, fuck it, as in fuck it; it's in God's hands. He takes Daisy's hand and trails on after her.

or; hope is a thing with feathers.

Mod note: Everytime I read this fic, I end up at least a little teary eyed. It’s not exactly happy, more bittersweet, considering, but I still love it.

Come Love This World (Come Hate It, Too) by cedarbranch. 3.3k words. Character Study, fluff and angst, spans s1-5. Canon Compliant. 

Jon never liked poetry, until Martin.

Mod note: Yes I am picking fics that personally came for my heart one way or another, not much else to say, besides that “it feels like loving you” haunts me still to this day, in a good way.

i love you, i'm glad i exist by kissyourlocalmoth. 1.7k words. Scottish safehouse period. Fluff.  Established relationship.

Martin was thinking of a poem. It’s name sat on the tip of his tongue, aching to get out. It was a lovely one, too: something about how life felt easy now, at peace; how the small things felt like everything, a poem about… the importance of the little moments. These last few days had been like that, he thought. He couldn’t stop smiling to himself recently, and even Jon teased him about it sometimes, though he was hardly less giddy. He thought of the immense joy the little things brought him now, the mugs of tea they made for each other, how he would lay in their bed late at night staring at the ceiling, his love nestled against his chest, overflowing with so much contentment and fondness he did not know what to make of himself.

Mod note: Short and sweet, it was the first time I read that particular poem, and now it’s forever intertwined in my head with little scenes of jon and martin in the scottish safehouse before 160 happens.

exit wound by autoclaves. 3.1k words. Post-canon AU. Ending speculation.

Suppose there is a house on a hilltop. Suppose there is a story. There is always a story, and every universe is always expanding.

Mod note: I would’ve liked to tag this more, but it would probably spoil the twist it has. Reading back on it, the narration reminds me of the statement from 196, which I find fitting and a funny coincidence, considering. 

[lysershine]

@willwoodimagines​ lore timeline (what is my life)

So firstly, a fuckin massive thank you to @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea​ because I cannot do this shit alone and he’s helped me compile all of their old posts because I, apparently, underestimated how long they’ve been doing this. So from this point forward, I’m assuming nothing is a joke. Here we go!!

I am so sorry. Let’s do this.

So earliest posts that are likely lore come from around April the 9th. This post is a conversation seemingly between Three and One where Two is gone on a road trip, -- although it might not Actually Be A Road Trip, -- and then One tells everyone to stop acting like Two is dead, because he’s not. Which, fair enough, although later in the conversation, Two replies and seems to invent that he’s at the beach, probably to calm down the people speculating about his whereabouts. I am Anything But Calm. 

There’s also this post, presumably from One or Three but it’s hard to tell cuz Three didn’t start signing posts until much later and they type pretty similarly, where they tell us we should be grateful for them feeding us and keeping us warm, and it’s tagged with ‘#I wish I was warm.’  

So here’s where stuff gets very interesting! Backstory, people! In this post, we start to see some pieces put together. The imagine reads:

IMAGINE: Will Wood invites you into his home for an exclusive performance of I/Me/Myself. You are so excited! But then, he asks you to come down into his wine cellar, explaining that his keyboard is down there. You go down there hesitantly. You don’t realize for several minutes that he did not follow you down here. The only things here are a laptop and a sticky note with the words “POST IMAGINES” written in sharpie. You are so afraid and attempt to leave the way you came in but the door is gone. You are trapped. It is so cold and you just want to see your family again.

So that’s horrifying!! But it gives us insight into how the mods were probably captured and why they’re running this blog. It’s a great blog. 10/10, doesn’t make me solve codes. Oh wait. 

After that post, -- which I am assuming comes from Three, -- we’re treated to a bunch of morse code that the wonderful Nigel was kind enough to translate for me:

They then added in a reblog, “It seems I have made a typo! I meant mod 1 won’t let me speak, I am mod 3.” So, it seems like One is trying to quiet any cries for help.

This is shortly thereafter followed by this post from the 11th, and to quote directly, it says:

IMAGINE: Inside of the cellar basemeant, there is a suit. It is tempting but Weill said you are not allowed to touch. YOu know you want to. Touch it. he is guarding it. he is hiding something. follow for more will woof imagines.

So that’s riddled with typos, and if you stick them all together you just get eeOf so I’m gonna assume that all this means is that this post is courtesy of Two. There’s also a skeleton circled so maybe Will has previous victims or something? Who knows.

On the 12th, we have a couple posts, one about being in Will’s basement and watching him cosplay the onceler, another about Will being vaguely inhuman. Don’t know how important that is but I’m gonna make note of it anyway, because Will being inhuman especially might make sense for some stuff.

The next seemingly important post is this one:

So this one is probably about Two, my evidence being this post and the fact that, following this, Two gets significantly worse at spelling and more confused about what’s going on with their captivity. My best guess is that Two gets in trouble either for the lack of imagines OR they did touch the suit from that earlier imagine and now they know something that they shouldn’t. Either way, Will takes him away and brainwashes??? Lobotomizes??? Bite of ‘87s???? Idk???? I’m gonna go with lobotomy, it seems the most accurate to Two’s behavior from here on out, I really have no idea but he comes back Very Different. And in the tags it says ‘Laplace’s Angel 2:14!’ and the line at that time is “Somebody, help me!” so you know, pretty straightforward cry for help. 

Though it makes me think that in the cellar, they are probably limited to interaction with only things directly connected to Will Wood, which is why “as a treat” they watch the documentary and they communicate with his music like this. They’re not allowed any media other than his. 

Anyway, here’s an important note: From this point forward, Two is an unreliable narrator. Everything he says from here on out should be taken with a pillar of salt. (H.A.L.T., it’s not my fault!) 

So with that in mind, the next post of importance is this one, a conversation that goes Three, One, and then Two. Two says Will let them watch the documentary as a treat, One tells them to stop making it seem like Will is holding them captive, and Three just says “movee :-)”. Which, fair enough.

The next posts that are worth noting are this one, where Three simply says “mental anguish” and One shuts them down saying that no one on the blog is experiencing that, and threatens them in the tags, and then this one where someone is being silenced.  

There’s this post, which in the website version of their blog links to itself, I don’t know how or why or if that matters but if someone figures something out with that, please let me know. There’s also this imagine, which is about bodyswapping with Will -- storywise, I don’t think this is something that really happens, -- but it’s tagged with ‘#I miss my family.’ So that’s Not Good.

There’s some posts in between solidifying that despite this wackiness, the mods are indeed still friends. And then we go straight back into absolute horror with this post:

And so evidently they are Less Than Okay and probably being held captive by Will Wood. It’s immediately followed by this morse code, presumably from Three because he seems to use morse where One uses binary, and when deciphered, it reads: “I am blinking. Hear my cry.” Three’s post is then followed by One trying to shush them once more, saying: 

“[W]e at Willwoodimagines would like to apologize for last night. We might have, perhaps, made it seem as if we are being held in a wine cellar against our Will (Wood), and that some of us have been down here for six years, and that we may miss our families, but I, Mod 1, would like to remind you that we are fine and need no help! Cheers!:) #We are NOT blinking. At all. #Not at all. No blinking from us! Blinking? Aha! Not at all.”

So what can be gathered from this is that they’re absolutely being held in Will Wood’s wine cellar, and some of them have been there for six years, and they miss their families, are NOT fine, definitely need help, and are CERTAINLY blinking. Also the random bolded letters spell “help” again.

Then there’s this post, which Nigel translated for me (ty man ily):

We also have this crudely-drawn map from Two, but it doesn’t seem to be related to anything. Anyway, the address is totally garbled, yep, but nonetheless if you put it into Google you get the address for a relatively poorly-rated landfill in New Jersey:

So clearly someone picked up on that, because then we have an ask from an anon who wants to know what the recycling situation is where they are being held. One seems very confused by this question, and Two pipes in saying that have a trashcan. Their confusion would make me assume this is the wrong address, but I don’t actually have to assume, because One(?) confirms it later with this post containing binary that can be translated to read:

“oh god the address was wrong i don't know where we fucking are help“

So you know, concerning! This is immediately followed by another ask, this one in binary. The conversation goes:

“Are you good?” “Absolutely not”

Which kinda speaks for itself. There’s also a quiz they made and I took it to see if there was any lore and uh apparently I’m most like One, so that’s poggers, I think? Idk there wasn’t any lore though. There is this post where Three says that Two’s favorite song isn’t a Will Wood song, and One threatens to knock them the fuck out, and I’m adding this as a point to my theory that they’re unallowed to consume media unrelated to WW. They make up though, so it’s fine.

It gets more quiet and more confusing for a while, Three saying “wake up” and this post being tagged with ‘#I’m cold and I am afraid.’ Two leaves again, Three goes quiet cuz they’re having a rough time, Two hates being smol-bean-ified and is behind held below One and Three, who seem to be in the same room? They’re also all starving, and Three could be an arsonist if you let them out.

Blah blah, they called me out and I cried about it, and NOW we’ve reached the 100-follower-special. Thank fuck.

Three posts this, it leads to binary, and that binary says:

“Listen carefully. The video that Will (Wood) be posted is extremely important. Do not skip it.“

This is immediately followed by this video of Two sprinting through the woods, presumably to freedom, if you read the tags. Three follows that with another post, saying “It has begun.” One shuts them down again in this post, but it links to binary that says:

“hello? can you read this? mod 2 is free! and hopefully will be coming back for us both. you all did absolutely nothing to help so i'm not thanking you for this. however i am thanking you for following us all! you've given us moral support thank you, mod 1“

As I’ve said earlier, I’m fairly certain that their captor is Will and he has access to this tumblr, which is why One especially is trying to be quiet about this. Like in this post where they apologize for the insanity on the blog, which links to binary, and it reads:

“we’re not in ddlc. i am not monika. listen to me closely. mod 3 and i are still stuck here. we have been posting cries for help for weeks. go look for them! they’re like easter eggs. just for you! thank you, mod 1“

DO I LOOK LIKE I’M COLLECTING EGGS YET??? DO I??????? Anyway, I got named the official lore account so now I’m fucking trapped here, and then we get some posts about how Two has made it to a McDonald’s.

Then One posts yet another apology, with two links. Link one directs you to a groupchat between the three mods, detailing Two’s escape and everyone’s very odd adoration for fast food. But then again, Three says they’ve been eating slop for a while, so. Fair enough. To bring back my old commentary about this, though; in this conversation there seems to be a bit of confusion over who exactly put them in the cellar where they’re captured, but as we saw earlier it was indeed Will Wood himself who is keeping them prisoner. However, Two also asserts that very soon he will be able to save One and Three, apparently with the help of Will? So there are two possibilities here:

1. Two is still an unreliable narrator, so it’s a possibility that his lobotomy or whatever has ruined his ability to perceive threats and he is being tricked by Will, who is indeed their captor, and will get thrown back in the cellar with the other two.

2. Something bigger than Will is controlling the situation. It makes no sense that all three mods would remember Will putting them in the cellar if he didn’t. So someone else could be controlling Will, I don’t know. They allude to a person from the documentary and initially I assumed it was Will but I actually haven’t seen the movie (shock and horror, I know, I’m sorry), so maybe it’s someone else and that’s the piece of the puzzle I’m missing? Idk, if you’ve made it this far and you’ve seen the documentary, check the conversation and let me know.

Link two leads to binary, and when translated it becomes:

“i do think it’s less endearing and more terrifying how people on a blogging website care more about my freedom than my own friends and family did i dont need to sign this. you know who it’s from“

Which, maybe, but I love ARGs and Nigel and I are already incredibly invested so whoops. Besides, who’s gonna do it if we don’t?

Anyway!!! I sent an ask in response to some of my confusion for the groupchat, and because One said to keep sending messages. One responded, and I was redirected to even more binary because of course! This time it says:

“THANK YOU FOR ASKING MOD 2 SAID THAT HE HAS INTERACTED WITH WILL. SO I DO NOT THINK WE ARE BEING HELD BY WILL HIMSELF. I BELIEVE MOD 3 KNOWS BUT WHEN I ASKED AGAIN HE JUST TOLD ME THAT IT WAS THE GUY FROM THE MOVIE. THIS WAS NOT VERY HELPFUL THANKS  MOD 1 P.S. THIS IS IN ALL CAPS BECAUSE I'M VERY EXCITED!!” 

Then there were two posts in quick succession, the first one was a new puzzle type! Morse code! And grandma taught me that, so I can tell you it says:

“I think we posted an address once but it was wrong and we got caught doing it. I didn’t like that day. This entire computer has safety settings on it so I can’t just ??? (this looks like a keysmash or something to me?) stop writing. Hold on, I hear something.”

And I would’ve thrown it directly in a translator, but as One acknowledges in their next post with a link to more binary, I had to translate by hand because:

“well! you'll never guess what desktops do to morse code! we're back at binary! anyway. we did post an address but everything went wrong, i don't like thinking about that entire week, the pain was unimaginable! more importantly, though, i've asked mod 3 and he s hold on i think i hear something.“

That post was immediately reblogged with more binary that just says:

“well that’s not good”

Which is horrific!! So I sent an ask, like, ayo homie what the fuck, and I got a response! The text itself is just a dismissal that anything’s wrong, but the bolded text spells out “footsteps” so that’s terrifying! Also Two apparently slept in the McDonald’s parking lot and One slept in a sleeping bag in the cellar.

They posted that this morning when I started working on this post, -- I’ve been here for like eight hours now I think, -- and so I replied expressing my distress that they were active again and One responded with backwards text, which when read normally, says:

“Did you think we were going to sleep forever? The show must go on!”

Death undertones, I dig it.

Anyway, @hotsinglelemonsinyourarea​ my beloved asked why they were watching @emerald-whale​, and One hit back with binary that says:

“you don't think we're watching all of you? tell the lorekeeper to write this one down. sincerely, mod 1″

Which is fucking horrifying, but no worries One, I am writing it down!! I am making a whole ass fucking timeline!! Because I am but a humbled servant that kneels to whatever story you’re trying to tell here. :) Apparently. ::) I hate it here.

Anyway, an anon sent in an ask that is one of the funniest interactions ever:

“ooohhh pizza mozarella pizza mozarella rella rella oohh“

“alright no more lore for you guys until you learn how to behave”

And then Two felt like pitching in as well:

Now keep in mind all of this was posted very fast and I was writing this post, -- still am, whoops, -- so I sent this very stressed ask telling them to SLOW DOWN THE LORE PLEASE IM FUCKING PLEADING as well as asking each mod a question, and I got shot back more binary cuz they hate me but they did answer my questions so the conversation goes:

Me: “One, are you in the same room as Three? What about Two?”  One: “yes. no. i miss 2 dearly.” Me: “Two, who did you bite to get out? Two: “the  ghuy from the movee !!!!  i bit him and sstole hias phone!!!!!! his passw ord was "willwoodsux"  :-)” Me: “Three, how long has it been since you’ve consumed any media that isn’t WW related?” Three: “It’s only been a year since I entered the cellar, so not that long ago :-) Around July you're welcome, lorekeeper sincerely, the three mods

So to clarify what and why I was asking:

1. My theory about One and Three being together while Two is separate is confirmed, yay me! Kinda trivial but I want to understand what’s going on in the cellar, so that stuff makes sense in context.

2. I haven’t seen the Will Wood movie, so this means nothing to me! Lucky for me, I have a friend, @indubitablyswag​, who has seen it, so I asked them!

They have no fucking clue either!! So I will probably be renting that movie tonight, because this lore is worth money to me now, apparently, -- and I’ve been meaning to see it anyways. 

3. Three made a comment about having never seen Ratatouille, which Nigel thought tied into my theory that non-WW things weren’t allowed in the cellar. I think this confirms that, but it actually doesn’t excuse Three from not knowing Ratatouille because it came out much longer than a year ago. (Unless this ARG takes place in a different year? I’ll have to ask about that.)

Then there’s another pizza mozzarella whatever ask, but it’s okay cuz Two fucking murders them. 

I got my numbers screwed up and hurt One’s feelings, (IF YOU’RE READING THIS, ONE, IM SORRY, I MEANT THREE!!) something???? hurts, and I have wasted a solid nineish hours of my existence on this.

Then One gave me a whole ass heart attack by asking my favorite flavor of ice cream. (Theirs is birthday cake, apparently.)

I’m posting it before any of those fucks give me any more lore to add to this timeline because I’ve been here for like ten hours and I honestly just Can Not Keep Doing This, so I’ll be back with more theories later, -- especially after I’ve seen the movie. 

In the meantime, au revoir, I’m gonna go have a stroke. I hope you guys are pleased with your lorekeeper. Cuz if you’re not then literally what has this been for? :::))

[kinder-writes-surprises]

Vision Blab: Plot? Never!

Hi, writer’s block is a BITCH and I have a personal grudge against it, however I also value my terrible writing, so I’m here to dump some Vision x Reader porn :)

PS. this sucks don’t read it if you don’t want to :)

-Mod Pasta🍜🍝

Word Count: 4758

It felt like you were drugged: You were absolutely and completely addicted to a computer with legs. His skin was tough like a rhinovirus, yet smooth on the outside, small patterns of hexagons only a trained eye could detect, with little bumps all over it and the chilled, metallic feeling of the outside of a gun. Sinking your teeth into that skin felt like a distant dream until the lock down.

You were used to staying in the base, but not being trapped inside. A small misunderstanding with the US Government had Captain America on the run. Stark assured all of the Avengers, including yourself, that the situation would be resolved in a few days time, and to just hunker down and perform your daily routine as usual, save for the lack of one teacher and the ability to leave and get donuts.

"I just don't see why he's gotta be up in their faces," Rhodey was clearly voicing his concerns to Sam, who hadn't been in contact with Rogers since he accidentally blew a "place" up. You were in the kitchen chopping vegetables to make a simple stew, watching them with feigned amusement. They already had this conversation two hours ago, five hours ago, and right when the facility went on lock down. You clicked your tongue, garnering their attention.

"Let the situation play out, we already know he's innocent," You went back to chopping the vegetables, throwing what you had in the pot and setting aside the others for precooking. Sam sat down with a sigh.

"Maybe, but the military doesn't know that," He raised his eyebrows, seeming apprehensive. Rhodey shook his head, hands on his hips.

"We need to step in and resolve this," He snapped, and you locked eyes with him before giving a decisive chop.

"If we step in, we risk escalating it. Your name is War Machine," You reminded him with deadpan in your eyes. He looked away with a twinge of embarrassment.

"True. This just feels wrong," He sighed, scratching the back of his head and glancing at the big pot you were adding to, "Whatcha making?"

"Stew. I figured we all needed some comfort food," A voice from the hallway behind you caught everyone's attention: a feminine, thick accent.

"It smells divine," The magical girl offered you a small smile, which you returned in full as you set the heat for the oil in the other pain.

"Thank you Wanda," You gave her a nod, "It'll be ready in time for dinner."

"Dinner? Oh c'mon it's lunch time!" Rhodey whined, and Sam nodded, looking to you expectantly. You scoffed, eyes wide.

"I'm not your maid, nor your mother. Make a sandwich," You chuckled, shaking your head. Wanda giggled, walking behind you to get to the fridge.

"If you slice the meats, I will make the rest," The boys were up and ready immediately, enticed by the idea of immediate food. You had to explain that stewing took time, and unbeknownst to you, a watchful eye was taking the information in, fascinated by the family recipe. Where were the instructions, rules, parameters? How did you know this all? Most human customs could be found on the internet, but not everything.

-

The same pair of blue eyes graced your presence for dinner, when everyone got together at the table and enjoyed the stew. Natasha commented that it reminded her of Russia, but Stark reminded her that leeks were Asian. The individual who couldn't eat tried to stay out of the conversation, but was eventually brought in as a human calculate to give Stark some closure on a bet with Rhodey.

You watched on with amusement, eyes mostly lingering around the neck of the walking AI. The way it moved when he spoke, the slow nods he gave that reminded you of a therapist gathering information. Your eyes travelled in from his broad shoulders to his collarbone, admiring the structure and wondering yet again how it tasted. The texture under your tongue would definitely be admirable, but you wondered if the robot could even have such thoughts. Surely he didn't understand the complexity of pining, wanton need, and he probably didn't even have a libido, much less one that matched yours that raged whenever he was near.

Your stolen glance at the man didn't remain unnoticed, "So, did you make the food just to distract us from you eating him with your eyes, or am I missing something?" Natasha asked cockily, and you nearly choked, turning to her with cheeks insanely dark. You were eternally grateful that she had kept her voice down, but the smug expression on her face gave most of the situation away.

"Natasha..." You scowled, face still red. She nodded, shoving a piece of stew meat into her mouth. She leaned closer from her seat beside you.

"He's a robot, subtle isn't his thing," She chuckled, and you groaned softly, looking down at your plate with complete embarrassment. You hadn't expected to be called out so obviously.

"It's my thing," You gave her wide warning eyes, to which she clicked her tongue and turned back to the boys, continuing the conversation.

You were safe from her teasing for the rest of the dinner. Most people resided to their rooms to do whatever heroes do after a long day's work and not being able to go out. Your idea had involved eating a spicy snack while watching a horror movie, but upon remembering the small smile Vision gave you during dinner, your focuses turned elsewhere.

His blue eyes, so captivating, so curious. You wondered if he was curious about the human body, if he had ever studied sex, if he'd taken a liking to any parts of it. Your hands travelled downwards, removing your bottoms and underwear. Movie and snacks forgotten, you turned the volume up a bit to cover your inevitable moans. No other ima`ginary bedroom fantasies could make you like this, but Vision? The soft soul who wishes only good on others, who yearns for friendship from everyone in the compound, who memorizes the staff's coffee orders just in case of a rainy day... You were head over heels for this man.

The rooms were mostly sound proof, but you were still paranoid, so you bit into your pillow while you worked yourself up, imagining it was his patterned, smooth hands, perhaps he would like you to match a pair of lingerie to his ruby red... well, you assumed it was skin. It was vibranium, but still.

Pumping in and out of you, figuring out what drove you mad and not stopping until he had pushed you over the edge, both of you excited for the finale. Your toes sunk into the bed sheets, your other hand roaming your body before resting on your clit, massaging it and causing your back to arch while you soft cooed the name of who you wish was your torturer.

-

It was a dreadful habit of his: he forgot that others couldn't phase through walls, and he ended up seeing things others would rather him not see. Half naked, them watching something out of character, etc. Alas, he was working on it...

He had stayed with Sam for a bit after dinner. He reminisced catching a sneak peak of the woman who made it, mesmerized by her harmonious movements, the quick quips back at Rhodey and Sam for wanting food sooner, and her shy humbleness during dinner when Stark complimented the dish. She was gorgeous, brave, and most of all, according to the internet, she liked him back.

She turned pink at all the right times, stumbled over her words only when speaking with him, and either is trying to violently get away from him or spend all of her time with him. He had downloaded all the information necessary to flirt, although seeing as Stark called them useless, he was back to square one.

Sam and him talked about his wings and the difference between flying with them and just having the ability to fly. Once Sam became bored, they both turned in for the night. Vision picked up after himself and went back to make sure the table was cleaned. Once he was sure everything was in order for the night, he made his way to the hall. With his enhanced hearing, he noticed what each Avenger was doing in their rooms. Bathing, watching TV, training, and some making noises he had learned meant to stay out.

Except he hadn't ever heard those noises from this particular room. It was (F/N)'s room, and he attempted to ignore them, keeping his head high and pace steady until he faintly heard his own name. He paused, then turned around elegantly to go back, standing in front of her door.

There again was his name, moaned in a long, drawn out voice that ended with more panting. It almost sounded like she was working out, but he knew from limited experience that he shouldn't take his chances. It was covered by a thick layer of music, but why would she say his name in such a way?

So he looked back down the hall, mind working a mile a minute. She was calling for him... Perhaps she was thinking about punching him? That would set his admiration scale back to below zero, like when he first met her. But the sweet sound of her voice didn't sound like it held hatred...

In fact, it sounded like it held pain. It previously felt euphoric, but it had suddenly become more desperate and higher pitched. If she was being assassinated, he would never forgive himself for not checking immediately. Her TV was also on, the assailant could be using it as a cover. He stepped through her door, making himself known before he saw her, "Miss (F/N)-"

The scream that erupted from the girl on the bed set his nerves on fire, and a few shuffles from other rooms could be heard. He stood in surprise: Her hands had been between her legs, fingers inside of herself. Her body laid out like a delicate flower, chest pushed up and muscles contracted. Upon hearing his voice, her immediate reaction was to scream and bolt upright, eyes wide and panting. She grabbed her bed sheets and covered herself, all while shouting at the shocked man.

"Fuck - oh my gods - GET OUT! Get out Vision, what the fuck? Get out!" She screamed, face beet red and clearly furious. He was given a stark reminder as to why he needed to knock.

"My apologies, I heard you calling my name and-" She didn't let him finish, instead wrapping herself in her sheets and pushing off the bed, her eyes spelling murder.

"You didn't fucking knock? What the HELL. You've got some fucking nerve, android," She snapped, stomping furiously toward him, obviously still embarrassed by her flushed expression. He put his hands up, genuinely worried that she would attack him. Instead, she stopped in front of him, "Why aren't you out? Get out!"

"I'm sorry, so sorry (F/N)," He took a hesitant step back, beginning to understand was real embarrassment was like. She was practically fuming, and before he could leave, she grabbed his arm, teeth grinding together while she tried to string a sentence together.

"Do you even - understand - how wrong.... what you did... was?" Her grip was tightening, and he observed her starting to try and calm herself down with deeper breathes.

-

"What you were doing was a personal, human affair," He stated with a hesitant nod, and you were about to nod with him, but you thought of a better option. When he first scared the living shit of out you, your reaction was purely instinct. Now that you were thinking straighter, you realized that if you could push your dignity to the side, perhaps you could get what you've been wanting...

You were still riled up after all, and you knew that learning how to be human was something he adored, "If you're trying to exclude yourself from that group," You took another deep breath, using your grip on his arm to steady yourself, "Technically, I mean, you can probably..." You looked down to his navel region, nodding. When your eyes snapped back up, you were met with a confused set of robotic eyes.

"I'm not following your logic, Miss (F/N)," His velvety accent wasn't doing your aching core any good. If he didn't leave soon, you might not be able to stop yourself from jumping him, "Are you saying you don't wish for me to leave you?"

"I'm not - wait, I'm just -" As he tugged away from you, you tried to pull him back, and he got closer than before, his eyes scanning your face with curiosity, "Do you remember when you first came here?"

"Yes, I remember my birth quite vividly," He nodded slowly.

"And you remember how you made clothes for yourself, then a big ol' cape?"

"Yes," His voice was a whisper now, as if he was starting to follow your reasoning, "So what you are saying is... You think I can create a penis?"

"Always straightforward, eh?" You don't think your cheeks could get any darker at this point. He so obviously stated that, as if talking about the weather. You swallowed hard, struggling to maintain eye contact.

"I could try, but I need an example," He reminded you, and you finally let go of his arm, wrapping your own around your stomach in a protective, shy manner. The corners of his mouth raised up slightly, as if amused.

"Example..." You whispered to yourself, looking at the ground, "It's uh... I mean, you don't even have to do this..."

"But (F/N), you have peaked my curiosity, and you seem to have thought about this before," He stepped forward with the confidence of a pride of lions as always, placing a hand on your arm delicately. This must be a dream - never in a hundred years did you think this situation would happen. This was something out of a cheesy porno...

"Maybe I have," You whispered, then cleared your throat, looking behind you at the loud TV, "I... Vision, this is a lot more important than you realize," You looked back at him, and he looked as placid as always. You tried to get the message to sink in, "Sex, Vision. Sex means a lot. It bonds two people, it's not just... Casual, between friends, at least it's not usually..."

"We are both unusual people," His hand traced up to your neck as he took another step forward, almost closing the gap between you. Your hand shot up to cover his own, leaning your head into it.

"I don't want this to be between friends," You sighed, glancing between his arm and his eyes, "Please."

"You wish for this to be between lovers?" He sounded almost breathless. You'd never seem him this surprised before, not even when Stark had painted his entire room pink as a prank. You nodded with wide eyes, smiling.

"Yeah, that. I'd love to do this as lovers," You stayed put, waiting for his confirmation.

"That would be... New. But you seem like a lovely teacher," You closed the gap between you, reaching up behind his neck and pulling him down for a kiss.

Once your feelings were established, you brought him to the bed, sitting down on the edge with your laptop. You felt like Stark would tease you for your search history, but you typed in "Erect penis," and scrolled through a few photos before landing on one. You handed the laptop over to the robotic man, and he studied it shamelessly. As he did, he muttered, "Could you turn your TV down, I'm terribly sorry, but I must focus."

"Of course, yeah," You bolted up, rushing to the TV. You turned it off completely, and when you sat back down, you observed him nodding slowly to himself.

"The structure is fairly simple. How large is it, might you say?" The question caught you off guard, and you scrambled for an answer. It's not like you thought about penises every day.

"Uh, sizes vary, but uh, the average is about five and a half inches tall. Most guys want more, girls too I guess," You pressed your lips together, looking away from him as he closed the laptop, the silence suddenly much too loud for your liking. This was about to happen - This was about to happen. You were going to teach a robot to love the old fashion way, and your adrenaline was surging.

He looked at you with confusion, but nodded, "What would you want?"

"Oh my gosh," You whispered to yourself, covering your mouth with your hand. He recognized the expression and was quick to apologize for stepping out of line, but you shook your head, "No, it's just... This is all so lewd. Like, you're asking me to choose what size... okay, um, seven inches? Is that okay?" Your voice was rising in pitch.

"Yes. Are you alright, (F/N)? You seem almost scared of me," He leaned closer to you, and out of embarrassment, you leaned away groaning and chuckling.

"I'm horny Vision, read my vitals or something," You waved him off, embarrassed, and he nodded slowly. Turning back to him with a small smile, you studied his robotic face that held that same curious emotion as always.

"My research has said I, as the male, should control the situation. Is this correct to your standards?" Your eyes widened, and you cocked a sassy eyebrow before smirking and scooting closer to him.

"You'll have to fight for control, Vision," You traced down his leathery metallic arm, "I've wanted this, I've wanted you to ruin me, but if you construct the nerves right," You swung yourself around, dropping the blanket covering you and straddling his legs, "I can ruin you," You gave him a confident smile, and he tilted his head to the side.

You were going crazy with the feeling of your bare skin against his synthesized own. You leaned closer, but before you could kiss him, he shifted his body weight and you were suddenly under him, breathless, "That wasn't much of a fight, (F/N)."

"Oh fuck me," You muttered with a voracious grin, shifting him back over and pushing him against the bed by the shoulders, taking a mouthful of his neck and biting. He gawked, then lightly pushed your head away. You were attached like a leech, however, and he chuckled nervously.

"This would break my capillaries (F/N), are you trying to-? Oh, a hickey," For a robot, he was still pretty slow on the update, "I could allow such things," Grinding against him while you bit, enjoying the fleshy, metallic taste, you were surprised when he pushed himself to sit up, and you tried to push him back down.

However, you felt his skin disappear, and you fell against the bed. Before you could turn around, his hips were pressed against your ass, and his hands holding you in place, "Please behave, (F/N)."

As hot as he sounded, you wouldn't go down without a fight. You struggled, pushing against the male. He stayed in place like a brick wall, but when you felt his "breath" against your neck, you paused, your breath hitching.

"I do hope this doesn't hurt," You cried out lewdly when he sank his teeth into the back of your neck, pressing your legs together uncomfortably and grinding back against him. You moaned as he pulled at the skin, his lips rough but gentle against your skin. His arms were on either side of your head, and through your haze of lust, you saw an opening.

You hooked an arm around his own, shifting your weight and slamming his back against the bed. You twisted expertly, straddling him and grabbing his wrists. You pushed them down, and he stared at you with wide eyes, flickering down to your lips, then back up, "You seem to prefer the power, should I let you have it?"

"Don't give up now Vision," You were panting, "The play just adds to-" He tried to slip out of your grasp, and you pulled away when his hands were free, turning around to scramble off when he grabbed your waist, pulling you back onto his lap. You clawed his arms that were wrapped around you, then melted when one travelled up to your breast, the cold metal soothing you immediately.

"Relax (F/N), this is my first time, I don't want to have to hurt you," You felt your stomach twist around with anxious glee; he was starting to get the hang of this. You needed him inside of you though, so you ground back against him, wanton and needy.

"M-Make it Vision," You whispered, and he went silent. You thought you had done something wrong, but then you felt something poke against your ass, and you immediately knew that he had succeeded.

"Mission successful," He teased, and you laughed, shaking your head, "I hope you remember to hide it after this."

"I will," He then shifted against you, the metallic penis pressed across your labia, "Will you let me aid you, (F/N), or must I fight for dominance more?"

"N-No, I'll obey," You mentally slapped yourself. It wasn't like he was your master or anything, you just wanted to give him the full treatment, "Please yourself and me, don't..." You whimpered, grinding against him for more friction, "Don't leave yourself without any pleasure."

"I must say, the amount of nerve endings in the genitalia is astounding," You laughed breathily at his words, but reached down to grab his penis, "Let me," You paused upon grabbing it, the girth and length exactly as you had specified.

"Alright," He then released his grip on you.

"Lay down," You followed his command, "Please," You chuckled at him remembering his manners. Your heart quickened when he crawled on top of you. You placed one hand on his chest, and grabbed his shoulder with the other, "Shall I?"

"Please," You leaned up to kiss him, and he met you with gentle fervour. His cold tip pressed into you, and you shivered. He then sent some sort of signal to his pelvis region, and it heated up to body-temperature, "Thanks," You chuckled.

"I forgot how cold my skin is compared to your delicate own," He pressed on, and finally he was almost completely sheathed. You would need to stretch a little to take all of him, however.

"I'm not delic-cate..." You whispered, "I'm an assassin."

He pulled back, then snapped his hips forward, sending stars across your vision and a soft whimper from your lips, "I must disagree, you are metaphorically melting underneath me."

"Fuck," You whined, and he started a rhythm, making your head spin. When he finally was able to completely sheath within you, you rolled your hips against him, "Tell me h-how you feel, Vision."

"I assumed the nerve endings would cause me to feel pain, however," He paused, "I feel a nearly overwhelming sense of oxytocin."

"Human t-terms, Vision," He started to move, and you whimpered, rolling against him again. He got the idea and started to thrust slowly and cautiously, as if testing what level of his vast strength this would take.

"It feels very good," He chuckled shortly, his usual 'laugh' due to his nearly completely nonexistent sense of humour.

"Don't la-ah..." Before you could tell him not to laugh at you, he hit a particularly sweet spot inside of you, raising your voice an octave and causing your eyes to shoot open, staring into his perplexed, interested own.

"How peculiar," He whispered, and like a robot would, he adjusted to only thrusting into that particular part of you. He was also picking up the pace in a methodical way.

"It-Ah, oh my gods, oh wow..." You grabbed the sheets under you, then grabbed his shoulders, taking deep breaths to try and get a hold of yourself, "Fuck... oh my gods Vision..."

"Please calm yourself (F/N), you're becoming quite loud," He almost sounded proud of himself, that bastard. You, however, didn't have much control over your moans, and you grit yourself, pushing a shaky breath out.

"Shut me up then," You let out a particularly loud whine, and he quickly covered your mouth with his hand, the other going to grab your waist to continue his ministrations. You felt your orgasm getting closer, and you grabbed his shoulder blades, writhing around and arching against him.

When it happened, you screamed against his hand, and his eyes widened, his hips not stopping. Your chest was heaving, and your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him deeper into you. He didn't understand what you meant, however, and continued to thrust.

When you were just whining and whimpering, he finally lifted his hand and stopped, looking you over just like when he had first seen New York: absolutely mesmerized. You were flush red, panting, arched against his cool skin, and almost completely at his mercy. Maybe with a couple more rounds you would do anything for him, but you hoped it would take a while for him to learn that. You pulled him down for another kiss, and when he pulled back, a shaky, tasteless breath graced your lips, "You are objectively beautiful."

"That's just your oxyto-so-whatever talking," You giggled, and he shook his head as if it was the simplest thing in the world.

"I cannot lie unless I must, and why would I lie now? I could easily win against you-"

"If you say anything more," You had to take a couple deep breaths, still finding it hard to breathe, and envying his lack of needing to, "I'll tell Stark you know how to make a penis."

He nodded, and you had to laugh, shaking your head and sighing after. With him still inside of you, you sat comfortably for about a minute, then you asked him to pull out. He obliged, "You can talk now, just not about how pretty you think I am."

"You are, I must correct," You groaned, then whined, "Just lay next to me and cuddle, I think I only had one round in me."

"Cuddle..." He trailed on, his eyes narrowing in what you knew as 'searching the internet for every reference he can,' then he floated next to you and laid one arm across your stomach. You curled around him, wrapping a leg around his waist. You felt a distinct lack of penis now, noticing that he had dematerialized it. Not commenting on it, you cuddled closer. He seemed to heat up the part of his body you were cuddled into.

"You don't have to heat up that much... I kind of like how cold you are," You murmured, "It's you, distinctly you."

"Me," You felt him shift to look down at you, "I have a trait, that of a robot, that you view as special to me?"

"Some people are really warm, some are really cold. We call them human heaters or coolers. You're just a human cooler," You nuzzled into his chest, hugging him to you. He wrapped an arm under you, and you adjusted to get comfy. It wasn't like he would lose circulation overnight, assuming he would stay for a bit.

"Thank you," He spoke quietly, as if he didn't want to break whatever train of thought brought you to your conclusion. You swallowed hard, asking the inevitable question.

"What does this make us? Like, you know what dating is, right?"

"Of course," He rubbed your back softly, and you noted that it was right where it had been sore from earlier training. That bastard and his x-ray vision, "You may choose, for I have no experience to base this from."

"Let's call it dating, but not tell the others for a while, okay?" You smiled, starting to feel sleepy.

"Very well," He stayed in that position for a couple minutes until you realized something that brought the smile back to your now sleepy face.

"Did you make a heartbeat just for me?" You whispered, and he chuckled, the sound reverberating through his metallic chest.

"I thought it would sooth you. Would you like me to turn the lights down, (F/N)?"

"It does, and yes. Do you want to stay the night?" You felt your consciousness ebb and flow, and you fought to stay awake.

"Yes, I think I will."

[mandalorewhore]

Common Ground

Part 2 of Hunter  (formerly Hunter and Prey)

gif by @themandaloriandaily​

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Oral Sex (fem recieving), Cock Warming, Descriptions of violence/blood , Edging (maybe?), Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Blindfolded Sex Words: 11.7k AO3 LINK

Summary: Reader and Mando land on Nevarro to meet with Karga

A/N: im sorry to niceguy!Karga in season 2

This would be less awkward if you knew how to talk to the man. 

The awkwardness is probably one-sided though you doubt he’s brooding over what the two of you did last night in this cockpit. You’re not a blushing virgin afraid to talk about sex, but it would be nice if you actually knew  something you both had in common, since you’re going to be spending a lot of time together. The extent of your conversations have been about sex, mechanics, and killing people. That’s pretty fitting for the two of you, you suppose. He is… Officially? your bounty hunting partner now.

However, he’s very comfortable in silence, so much so that it seems to be a central part of his character, much like the armor strapped to his body. Is being reserved a part of the Mandalorian creed too, or does he just prefer it? Does he want to talk about how you sucked his dick mere hours after abandoning your jobs as mercenaries? What is he thinking about right now? You could probably ask him all this, you know. Your internal argument is boiling over like a forgotten pot as you ruminate in the passenger seat of the Crest’s cockpit.

    You woke up in his arms a few hours ago, curled up in the pilot seat together, your face feeling a bit grimey due to  not scrubbing it clean after he gave you that facial. Feeling cozy in the quiet moments that follow waking, you snuggled in closer to his warmth, still only separated by the thin layer of his undershirt. You started when his palm squeezed your shoulder, his way of letting you know he was already awake. 

There’s an unspoken feeling about the way he fell asleep in your presence. You may work together now, but you’re still virtual strangers and Mando is a professional. You doubt he’ll pass out in front of you again. 

Slumped in your seat, you mull over every second that passed between the two of you. Meanwhile, he’s just sitting there like a lump of metal. Unaffected. Impassive. If you didn’t have first-hand proof of the deliciously warm skin he hides, you would’ve passed him off  as a droid. 

Actually when you think about it… when it comes to conversation topics, maybe metal is the place to start. As in, the ship that is now your impromptu home for the foreseeable future. You’ve gleaned that the Crest is like home to the Mandalorian and, come to think of it, he seemingly opted to sleep on his little cot down in the ship’s hull instead of taking up a bunk back on the space station. If he were anyone else, the gesture would’ve been ostentatious. It gave the impression that he was ready to leave at any moment. 

But no one wants to confront a Mandalorian.

Bringing up the Crest is probably a safe option and you’re knowledgeable about ships. You can hold your ground when it comes to the technicalities of mechanics. Plus, you can be charming when you want to be; on merc jobs you weren’t put into the femme fatal role for no reason.  Although you’ve casually lured men to their death, you’re more nervous to chat with Mando. But you’re determined to try. Try to be appealing...

    “I’m curious… Once I have some credits saved up, would you be interested in adding mods to the Razor Crest? I haven’t gotten a good look yet, but I’m floating some ideas around.” You bite your lip automatically out of apprehension, but hoping it comes across as playful. You’re not out of line or anything; it's been hours since you last exchanged any words so it's not like you’ve been chatting his ear off. Still, you worry that you sound extra loud to someone who’s spent so long in stillness. 

“That may be useful. What were you thinking?” Mando’s response comes only a second later, and even though he faces the cockpit’s transparisteel windows as he speaks, you’re giddy at his swiftness to respond. 

    “Well, I would love to touch her up a little. There are some issues with the hyper-drive and coms that could be fixed pretty easy. As for modifying, I saw that you installed a mobile carbonite-freezing chamber for bounties?” He nods to affirm your guess. “I could move that ‘round to utilize the space for storage and better suit two people living here. Either install a bed that can swing down or-”

    “Separate beds are unnecessary. We can sleep in shifts or share the bunk.”

    “O-oh. Sound’s good.” You gulp, feeling a little warm. The implication makes you sweat even if he shot down your idea. “Well, upgrading the deflector shields would be a good idea. Protect her better, plus efficient heat dispersal during atmospheric flight would let us jump into hyperspace faster. If we need to run or just want to fuck off somewhere.”

    “Hm. That is a good idea. She’s fast but there's always room for improvement.” He accentuates his response by patting the console lightly, and something about the way his hand lingers gently on the surface reminds you of a parent touseling their child’s hair. A smile stretches across your face, finally relaxing a little after being so tense all morning. For someone that you thought was so serious, he sometimes reveals a sentimental side to his personality. It makes you want to ask him more, to know more about him and how he thinks, but you’re so nervous about asking him anything even slightly personal, anything that has to do with his preferences or opinions. Your short exchange about his ship went pretty smoothly you think, maybe you can ask him more, you’ll just stay on the topic of starships. That should be fine. 

    “Do you have a dream ship?” You blurt, sounding a little less casual than you were trying for. Oops. 

    He takes longer to respond this time, seemingly thinking the question over. “No. Maybe when I was younger. I have the Crest now, there isn’t a need to plan for another ship.” 

    There's that seriousness again, the way he responds to you makes you think that he has never had to answer hypothetical questions before. It makes perfect sense, the average person doesn’t go around asking tall, intimidating Mandolorians about their hobbies. What a Gonk Droid. I’m jealous he can get away with talking like that. Still, you do want to continue this conversation if only to hear his voice. “Nothin’ about planning Mando, just a little make-believe. Personally, I like an A-Wing, the RZ-1 variant is classic even if the 2 is flashier. X-Wings are neat too, minus the pigs flying them.” 

    A weird huff passes through his voice filter and he finally turns to face you. You’re caught off guard by the sudden eye-visor contact, so it’s a second later when you process what that noise was, and the realization makes you positively giddy. “Oh shit, did I make a Mandolorian laugh? Am I on Spice?” 

    “That’s funny- pigs don’t deserve the nice Starfighters.” He laughs again, clearer this time while warmth feelings bloom within you at his reaction. It’s so unbelievable to you that he’s here laughing at something you said. You never once heard a reaction like that from him before now. “Those fast ships are impressive and great for combat, but I need a bigger space… a YV-929 would suit my needs.”

    “Of course it would, there’s like 1000 guns on that blocky thing. Plus the Empire banned it and you like to break rules.” The ship he named is virtually the same build as the Razor Crest, just with more guns, which is amusing to you. 

Creature of habit, you think, finding yourself leaning subtly closer to his body with every exchange. You don’t think you’re imagining him doing the same.

    “16. Could add more though.” He murmurs and something in his voice makes you think that he isn’t being entirely humorous. 

Maker, he is probably mapping out all the baster mods he could stick on that bulky freighter. You’re still amused by his very literal sense of things. You settle back in your seat to observe the hyperspace light streaking across the cockpit, a comfortable silence falling over the cockpit.

As you sit there and ruminate, the topic of weapons brings forth a vague memory in your mind. 

Someone once told you that Mandalorians aren’t considered great fighters due only to reputation and rumor. Most people are aware that armor and weaponry is part of the Mandalorian culture, but fewer are aware that such items have religious significance, going much deeper than a learned skill. Mandalorians are revered as great warriors not just because of their physical training, but because fighting and waging battle is a form of prayer. 

Despite finding rumors about Mandalorians to be generally exaggerated, you feel this one may be true.

 You’re curious but afraid to ask him to elaborate. The fact that neither of you exchanged more than a few words when you worked together is proof of his preferred privacy. Even though you’re pretty sure he wouldn’t mind giving you some sort of explanation about his culture, you decide to avoid any personal questions. 

Plus you really don’t want to come across as asking about his helmet.

    You break the silence shyly, trying to smoothly bring up a different topic. “Down in the hull… I haven’t explored much of your ship, I don’t want to come across as snooping. But I’m wondering, what sort of manpower have you got stored here?” 

“I installed an armory. Do you want to see it?” 

Fuck yes you want to check it out, his personal collection must be a wet dream.

“Yes, I’d love to!” You reply excitedly. The weapons Mando carried were always fascinating. You especially admired that rifle he slung across his back. You’ve never seen it in action but you heard it evaporated its targets. The two spokes at the end made you wonder how it shot. There has to be different settings on the gun, it would be impractical to evaporate all your targets especially if you need to bring back bounties, dead or alive. The bullets he slung across his chest must be paired with the rifle based on their size and shape when you compare them to the rifle chamber. What sort of charge do they contain to completely disintegrate its victims?

You’re tapping your fingers on your bottom lip, calculating how the rifle might function when his leg brushes past you. Glancing up in surprise, you realize he’s already headed to the cockpit ladder, twisting his upper body as he turns his helmet to look back at you.

“Come on.” You’re unable to read his face but something in his body language makes you think he’s amused by you. Flushing red, you scramble upright from the leather seat to follow him down to his armory. He slides first down the ladder, not bothering to use the rungs. Being unfamiliar with the area you opt to carefully descend one portion at a time, unaware of the view you’re giving Mando. By the time you reach the bottom, he’s diverted his gaze. 

Tall body moving to a panel on the wall, he punches in a four-digit code, prompting a smooth metal cabinet on the opposite wall to slide open with a hiss. You shake your head at this. The man has a tiny metal cot but he installed a hydraulic system for his weapons cabinet. But when you look closer at the exhibit your jaw falls open.

Oh my… Now that’s sexy.

The two side doors hang open to reveal a space in the middle filled with large blasters. His mid-sized guns are stacked horizontally above each other while the longer rifles lay vertically to the right of the center display. The doors contain smaller handguns of varying design and purpose. Each weapon is unique, there is not a single inch of wasted space given to any blaster if it doesn’t have distinct properties. Eyes locked on the arsenal, you scoot forward and make grabby hands at the cabinet. 

“Oo, they’re beautiful! Can I- May I see?” You are immediately drawn to a cylindrical pistol mounted at the very top of the stack, the gun’s sight a smooth metal and grip warm brown. Despite its deadly properties, it is a fucking gun, something about it looks soft to the touch. You’re finding more and more that you enjoy the juxtaposition of lethality and softness. 

Even though you’ve made no specification on which gun you want to hold, Mando reaches out and selects the very gun you’re attracted to and hands it to you. I should stare less, it's like he can read my mind. Despite resolving to do so the thought is fuzzy, unimportant when you’re so excited about handling one of the prettiest pistols you’ve ever seen. Mando watches you from a few feet away. 

“Good choice. I usually conceal-carry that blaster since it’s small on me, looks like the perfect size for you though.” Mando’s compliment has you grinning up at him, feeling giddy and full of light, but you’re quickly drawn back to look at the gun. Turning the weapon over in your hands you admire the polished metal, the texture making a satisfying noise as you run your fingers on its silky surface. The weight is perfectly balanced as you aim it at the wall, lining up the sight with a seam in the metal paneling. 

“You can carry it from now on.” 

What? It’s a good thing you know your trigger safety otherwise you would’ve pulled the trigger in shock, probably ricocheting the blast into your head. The giddy energy drains from you, replaced by apprehension and confusion. Why is he giving me so much shit? 

Of course you’re thankful. You’re incredibly thankful to be on the Razor Crest at all; however you can’t help feeling as if you owe Mando on a level where you’re incapable of repaying him. He didn’t have to take you with him when he dropped Ran’s crew, he didn’t have to indulge your sexual fantasies, he didn’t have to comfort you, didn’t have to partner with you, and he doesn’t need to give you this blaster. It is certainly a collectible, a rarity. A Mandalorian wouldn’t have it on hand if it were some run of the mill E-11 handed out to every Stormtrooper in the Empire. 

But what can you even say to him? It would be incredibly awkward if you refused him right now. Your mind races.

Best focus on the easy stuff. As long as he doesn’t drop me off on some wasteland I’ll be fine. That blaster is too pretty to decline so with your willfulness broken by aesthetic pleasure, you holster the gun on your hip, opposite the blaster you already carry. 

“Thank you. I’ll put it to good use.” You try to inject as much gratefulness into your voice as possible, even though you still feel odd about taking it.

“Yes, you will. Get ready and come back to the cockpit, we’ll be on Nevarro in a hour.”

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

 You’re used to men like Greef Karga but that doesn’t mean they’ll stop being annoying.

The way he speaks like he’s owed something from you just because you’re listening, the way it’s clear that every decision he makes is in self-interest, the way he eyes the women around him, yourself included. He isn’t outright dismissive like some men; such as the guard placed behind him only having eyes for your partner; but you can tell he either doesn’t take you seriously or he is more concerned about how he can sexualize you. 

He definitely isn’t treating Mando as a joke. Annoying.

          But, it’s not all bad. You got a kick out of how a hush came over the dusty cantina when the Mandalorian entered. He had been walking behind you which, with a little imagination, gave the effect that they were all reacting to your presence instead. Even though in reality, no one had ever reacted to you that way unless they were leering. You like how they fear him. It's a turn-on. 

You wish they would fear you like that.

          Someone says your name, startling you out of your thoughts. You realize that everyone at the table is looking at you expectantly but you didn’t hear the question at all. Kriff, you need to show yourself up more. Mando’s reputation is practically handing you the job but you still need to sell your skills to get anything decent out of Karga. He’s so stingy with the quarry's, even with Mando despite how he kissed the Mandalorian’s ass when greeting him. You figure that Mando didn’t take on bounties often, which put his skills in high demand.

          “Uhh, sorry. A bit distracted. Can you repeat the question, please?” You reply, accentuating the please with a bat of your lashes while looking Karga full in the face. If he’s going to objectify you, you may as well play into it. Smiling, he leans forward and pushes a glass of Spotchka into your hands, lingering a little longer than necessary when your fingers meet.

          “I asked if you wanted a drink. Take it, I can see you need one.” He winks at you while you stare indignantly, wondering what he means by that. It’s not like you’re sweating bullets in here. You’ve been here countless times on countless planets. Seedy cantinas with seedier people. Hopefully, he’s just flirting and doesn’t think you’re nervous. Maybe the flirting is backfiring.

You grip the glass and wet your mouth with the drink, enjoying the burn for a moment. Mando tilts his helmet at the way you accept Karga’s drink, seemingly looking sideways at you. Narrowing your eyes at him, you drink again and turn back to Karga.

          “Thank you, the Spotchka here is lovely.” It’s average, but flattery can’t hurt. Karga laughs robustly at this.

          “It’s no Alderaan wine, but it’ll do.” He drains his glass then pours himself another, filling it to the brim before turning to your partner. “So, Mando! Word travels fast around here. I take it you’re a full-time guild member now! I’m not surprised, always took you for the loner type. In fact, I already updated your status to full-time before you landed.” Karga waits for a response from Mando but the man sits silently at your side. Unbothered, Karga continues, “But, I am surprised you stayed that long with Ran in the first place. Must be the pretty ladies he keeps around.”

          The comment makes you cringe but you still smile brightly back at him since what he is inferring is clear. Can he just register you already?

          “Not alone. She’s with me.” Mando’s reply is short and flat, with no reaction to how you’re attempting to work Karga’s attention, nor at the revelation that Mando’s departure from mercenary work has apparently spread across the sector. 

          Karga’s smile twists into a smirk as he glances between you and Mando, looking at both of you as if he wants to fit your bodies together like a puzzle. “Well, well, well Mando. Didn’t think you were the type. Is she a bed warmer?”

          Your grip tightens on the glass. What the fuck is he implying? You’re rising in your seat, about to let loose on Karga when a gloved hand settles on your shoulder and pulls you down. Excuse me? Do I have to go off on everyone here? Why the fu-

          “She’s my hunting partner, my equal. Don’t insult us again.” Oh okay, you don’t know why he stopped you and he still doesn’t sound all that offended, but at least he’s defending you. 

Not wanting to be spoken for, you add on, “I’m prepared with my information so that you can register me in the Bounty Hunters Guild. Pull up your holo, I’m done with the small talk.” Your back is rod-straight in the cantina booth, trying to look down at the Guild leader even if he’s seated higher than you. “Also, your Spotchka is shit.”

          Karga’s is unphased at your reactions, even rolling his eyes. He replies bluntly, “If you’re going to join my guild then you need to prove to me that I’m not wasting my pucks on you. Don’t rely on the Mandalorian’s reputation. If you aren't out of some brothel then you were a mercenary, were you not?”

At first, the audacity of Karga has you fuming, ready to stand again despite whatever Mando wants. However, as you’re looking out of the corner of your eye at the crowd you realize that the bodies filling the cantina are no longer milling around quite as naturally. It's subtle, to an untrained ear and eye not much has changed. The chatter around you remains at a consistent volume and no one is blatantly staring. But your senses are sharp enough to tell that everyone in this room is On Greef Karga’s side. If a fight broke out you’d likely lose, even with Mando being worth ten men and the shiny new blaster strapped to your hip. 

Also, your prospects with the guild would be fucked if you fought everyone right now, which is the whole reason you’re here. You have to play nice and it infuriates you… But you still need the job. 

Taking a deep breath to quiet your anger you look to your left away from Karga, only to be startled by Mando’s visor locked directly on you. Sharing a look, one that you can only guess the meaning behind, you find the patience to calm down. You turn back to Karga, locking eyes steadily.

“Sorry for insulting your drinks, that was petty of me. But I am not sorry about how you implied that Mando would keep some poor sex slave around, nor am I sorry for reacting that way. I’d like to start over… If you’ll accept my apology, I’ll accept yours.” You can’t help letting some stubbornness slip into your words. If he’s supposed to be your boss then you aren’t going to keep up a pretense of respect after that. Not without an apology. 

You’ve never given much thought to how you look to other people, how you affect the crowd when you enter a room. It’s not that you don’t think you’re pretty. Being assigned roles by Ran that allowed you to dress up and distract targets was a direct affirmation of how you looked, even if they were creeps. But when you walked into this place, the only heads that turned were for the Mandalorian. You've never had the experience of being scary to other people. You’re always having to prove yourself and show everyone that you’re someone who can handle what’s handed to them, an equal to every other hard character in the galaxy’s Outer Rim... it’s tiresome. 

Karga is looking at you again, a little differently this time. 

    “I respect you for being blunt. Do accept my apology.” He sounds sincere enough so you nod, lips drawn tight. Heavy metal suddenly settles on your knee, Mando’s vambrace is laying across the soft flesh on your upper thigh. He squeezes, oh stars. Now you’re feeling flushed for other reasons than anger. 

    “Do I get an apology?” Mando asks Karga quietly, voice frustratingly mild just like the other two times he’s spoken up in this booth. The other man grins at Mando, more jolly than he should be considering who he insulted. 

    “My apologies, Mando! Do stay with the guild, your skills are irreplaceable! I’m afraid my jokes can go too far.`` His response is light and humorous but no one is fooled by the tone. A Mandalorian is far too valuable to lose. 

    After a few seconds pass between the two men you clear your throat, annoyed by everyone dancing around each other while you’re still not signed up to hunt bounties. It’s your only purpose here but whatever. Karga directs his smile at you, pulling his holo from behind him out of his guard’s hand.

    “I haven’t forgotten about you, sweetheart. Now, I’m going to put your basic details in… Do you happen to be registered elsewhere, such as under an Identichip?” You shake your head; you always worked behind a moniker. “Great! That makes this easy for me. Simply provide a name, real or not, and I’ll set up a chain code so quarries are tied to your data.” 

    You provide your name while Karga fiddles around on the device. It’s unclear if it is really that complicated to work the thing or if he is just stalling. This feels a little too easy so far. Didn’t he make a huge fuss about proving yourself? You decide to ask outright, wanting to bring it up instead of waiting around for him to finish.

    “I thought I needed to prove myself to you. Aren’t you worried about wasting pucks?” You were trying to tease but the bite in your voice can’t be helped. You worry you might’ve gone too far when Karga looks up at you with open annoyance.

    “Do you want to go out back and shoot a few bottles down? Seems childish to me.” He huffs out a short breath and returns to his holo. “I know that you worked with Ran’s crew on mercenary missions which grants you some cred. You can tell me what your specialties were on such jobs and it might convince me to give you the mid-level pucks instead of entry.”

    This is unfair, everyone knows it, he’s the one who told you to prove yourself and now he’s making you feel stupid for reminding him. He’s the one who was so concerned about wasting his precious pucks. But now that you’re here… you might actually be able to talk Karga into giving you a better quarry. Taking a deep breath, you start to list your qualifications.

    “On mercenary jobs, I usually took a stealth role due to my stature. For certain missions, I would dress to infiltrate a group, sometimes carrying hidden weapons but mostly I would conceal poison in my jewelry, skin powder, or anything similar. I’m a great shot and am knowledgeable about starships. When I first started I had to work my way up the ranks, the lowest being mechanics. Within a year I managed to go from handywoman to assassin... There’s more if you want to hear, although I can’t directly prove anything.” You wish you could actually show all these skills to him instead of just telling him. Karga is right, shooting down dusty bottles like some sort of carnival game would be pretty useless, but at least it would feel more substantial than this. 

You’re about to open your mouth and tell Karga more when you’re interrupted by Mando, and he finally sounds emotive, no longer inscrutable in tone. “This is all true. I haven’t worked closely with her on every job but I noticed her when I did. Her stealth was critical to our success during hits. She often worked on my starship. The Crest always came out in better shape once she looked at it.” You’re not sure what emotion is in his voice but whatever it is, it reminds you that his hand is still resting on your knee under the table.

Trying not to smile too widely, you bring your hand down on top of the one on your leg, giving it a pat of thanks. Karga’s eyes follow your movement but thankfully he stays silent, leaning back with a pensive look.

“Alright, this is all very interesting. Tell you what, and don’t take this as an insult, you can either have two entry-level pucks or one mid-tier. It all adds up to the same amount of credits, however, the mid-tier quarries will boost your rank… Mid also comes with a time constraint.” 

There’s always a catch with this man you think, a little displeased, but at the same time, you understand that he can’t maintain his business if all pucks were given away in good faith. Mid-tier seems like the best deal, and you aren’t just here for the money. Presumably, this will be your job for a while so you may as well aim ambitiously. 

“What are the last known coordinates of the mid-tier bounties?” You ask him, trying to sound like you’ve not already decided to take it. 

“One for Corellia and one for Mimban. Neighboring planets.” You grimace, recognizing the names. How lovely, you get to choose between two shitholes. Karga is correct, the planets are right next to each other, so at least you don’t have to worry about fuel. Corellia is more dangerous but the planet is explored thoroughly when compared to Mimban and you’ve already been to Corellia once.

“I’ll take the Corellian bounty, thank you.” Karga slides the puck across the table with an unpleasant scrape before drawing out three more, stacking them in front of the Mandalorian one by one.

“Two are bail jumpers but the credits for each are decent. I also threw in one S level criminal, let's see how you do with that one now that you’re dedicated to my wonderful guild.” Karga grins at Mando so widely that it is almost a grimace. Well, he didn’t have to beg for the good pucks. Yeesh… Mando’s arm lifts from your knee and he gathers the pucks wordlessly.

Mando moves to leave, rising quickly from the booth and leaving you scrambling behind him, slipping your puck in the pocket on your pants.  He’s at the door by the time you remember to say goodbye to Karga. Not wanting to be rude even if you don’t really like him, you turn and wave. “Um, bye! Take care.” 

He waves back. “You as well, girl.” 

A powerful hand grips your forearm and pulls you none too gently to the doors and out into the acrid, volcanic air.

----------------   

    It would be nice if the man who called you his equal an hour ago would tell you his plans. Instead, he had placed a small bag of credits in your palm and told you to go get some food and wait. You couldn’t find it in yourself to snap at him since you were starving, the last time you ate was probably several days ago, before Cantonica. Your hunger might explain the snippiness you’ve felt all day, actually.

    Having finished your meal of dubious-looking soup, you get up to explore a bit before heading back to the ship. The settlement is small and you think it may be the only town on the planet or at least the only one in the area. The land around you is flat enough to see for miles. It’s impressive that Mando disappeared considering the lack of terrain to hide behind. He must be in the city somewhere. 

    As you wander through the busy main strip, peering at different vendors and booths, you start to feel dejected. Mando defended you, spoke up for you, and even backed up your claims so that you’d look better in front of Karga. Then he just… disappeared. Somewhere. No communication. That's fine.

    It’s a little worrisome, the speed at which you’ve become attached to the man. You’ve been together for less than three days, and you already feel weird being alone. You know that you’re being unfair to yourself right now, it's not abnormal to feel lost on a foreign planet plus you literally just lost everything you’ve worked for as a mercenary. But in the end...

    Being here, alone and penniless, reminds you of home, the one you had as a child. It’s something you try to forget about. 

    Swallowing the memories away into that off-limits area within yourself, you decide to leave the bustling road and wander down a dingy alley. Probably not the smartest move but you do have two blasters on your hip. The sounds of the crowd fade in the background as you wander farther and farther down the twisting path. 

    It’s almost funny how quickly things go south. 

Mere minutes later, you find yourself backed up into a wall with two Rodians aiming their blasters at you, your huddled form reflected in their massive, black eyes. One of them jabs your arm with his gun saying something in that grating, echoey voice that most Rodians speak with. You get that they’re both aiming deadly weapons at you but you’re honestly just irritated. 

    “I don’t have credits on me fellas, you can search me but you won't find shit.” They must understand Basic because one of them pins you to the wall while the other pats your body down, searching for anything valuable. Pulling the empty credit pouch from your belt and throwing it to the ground, he twists you to face the wall, grabbing at one of your blasters. The rare one that Mando just gave you. You start to panic now, the positioning of your bodies making you nervous as you realize how vulnerable you are, fearful that they aren’t just looking for something to steal. Kicking backward at the Rodian pinning your arms, you start to struggle against them, trying hard to wiggle free and pull your other blaster.

    You must’ve connected with a kneecap because you hear a sickening crunch at the same time the Rodian howls, falling to the ground. His companion makes a furious sound then lashes out at your face, fingertips just barely connecting with your cheek as you duck slightly too late. Your face stings and feels wet, his gloves seem to have sharp points on the ends. You pray that they aren’t spiked with poison. 

    The injured member is still preoccupied with his hyperextended knee, granting you just enough time to pull the other blaster from your hip before he joins his partner and turns on you. You throw yourself to the ground, aiming at the same time and squeezing the trigger right before you hit the earth. The shot connects with the Rodian who swung at you and he falls to the ground, shriek cut short. Twisting to your side so you can attempt an evasive roll, you attempt to line the sight up with the chest of your living assailant but your shoulder connects with debris on the ground, jerking it out of your smooth movement. 

The blast misses by a few inches. 

The pain from whatever you landed on shoots to your fingertips, numbing them. Noticing your distraction, he hurls his body at you thankfully unable to jump accurately due to the injury you gave him. Despite that, he lands on your legs and starts to drag you toward him, abandoning his blaster in his rage while dirt billows around your struggling bodies.

    You’re terrified, fear making you clumsy as you handle your blaster. You don’t want to die being strangled by some alien in this dirty alley but the numbness in your fingers has you moving slower than usual, hand heavy as you try to aim again. Sucking in a deep breath you scream, hoping that someone on the busy strip will hear you. But no one is coming for you and there is no time to wait. Panicked, you fire in the direction of the Rodian, not taking care to calculate possible ricochet points in the area. A shot connects, his heavy body falling on your hips, dead.

    Fingers still numb, you hurtle upwards and try to wipe the dust out of your eyes to look at the bodies. The first Rodian you shot is a few feet away, slumped against the wall you were pinned to, blaster marks littering the brick surface from your panicked shots. Disgusted, you shove the dead body off of your legs and stand up.

 As you analyze the second alien you realize something doesn’t add up here. 

Somehow the blaster shot that killed him seems to be on the back of his head. How is that possible? Did I manage to reflect it off something and hit him from behind? You’re approaching the body to look for other possible causes of death when a large shadow leaps from the rooftop, landing heavily in a cloud of dust. You curse and aim your blaster at his head, pulling the trigger before you realize who it is.

He’s lucky his helmet is pure Beskar.

“Mando! What the fuck, I could’ve killed you!” Stomach feeling like it’s full of rocks, you march up to the man and slam a fist into his chest plate, hard. Looking up into his visor you feel a flash of misguided anger, lifting your fist to pound on his armor again. “Where the fuck were you anyway?!”

A large hand flashes up to catch your wrist before it can connect with his chest. He looks at you darkly. “Do you always hit people to thank them?” he asks, while his other hand reholsters the silver blaster back onto your hip.

“What do you mean, you-” The pieces connect in your mind, the impossible blaster shot in the back of the head of the Rodian and Mando’s positioning on the roof. 

He saved your ass. Again. 

You already realize your anger is misdirected, he didn’t do anything to warrant it. But the adrenaline and fear paired with your entire experience on Nevarro have wound you up to the point of lashing out. You shouldn’t be mad at him, and you should definitely apologize for almost killing him. Also, you should be thanking him for saving you even though you probably would’ve survived the mugging anyway. That criminal was unarmed at the end there. 

But you don’t care. You weirdly want to argue with him, to try and break that cool attitude he’s been maintaining nearly all day.

“I could’ve gotten him easily. If I didn’t hurt my arm he would’ve been dead before you arrived, also you didn’t answer my fucking question. I thought I was your equal, Mando.” You mock his earlier phrasing from the cantina, hoping he’ll snap and say something back. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he does something so strange that all the turbulent emotions you’ve been harboring fly out of your body in one instant.

Bringing up one glove to cover your eyes, he holds the hand you punched him with at the bottom edge of his helmet, pushing it up with your clasped fingers. There is a quiet hiss and you can feel the weight of metal digging into your knuckles as the Beskar lifts. Your fingers meet with soft lips, coarse facial hair brushing your skin as he presses a kiss on the blossoming bruises there. Heat rushes to your cheeks and you suddenly can’t remember what you were yelling about. 

It’s odd. You’ve seen the most intimate parts of him but only now, having felt his lips, do you truly recognize how rawly human he is. 

Too soon- he draws away, the helmet settles back on his head. You step back blinking as the light hits your eyes, cradling your hand to your chest like it's been hurt. Which you guess it has. You can’t really feel it. 

Unable to meet his gaze you stare at his boots, “You’re weird and I don’t understand you.” Your words sound embarrassingly breathless.

    He chuckles quietly. “Good.” And after a beat of silence- “Do I get an apology?” 

Annoyed at how he mirrored you throwing his words back at him, you look up glaring, but you’re unable to put any actual heat into your halfhearted expression. You’re still thinking about how soft his lips felt plus, you actually feel bad for lashing out at him.

“Yes, um, I’m sorry Mando, I was only mad because I was scared. I actually could’ve killed you, and those guys almost killed me- or worse.” You shrug, eyes round as you look at the violent scene in the alley. “Plus Karga is an asshole and you disappeared, telling me to wait around like a kid. I was in a bad mood.”

“Yeah.” He offers shortly. Is he gonna say more or- “Karga is an asshole.”

“...Is that all you’re going to address.”

“You’re a good shot. You could’ve killed these muggers without me, I just didn’t want you hurt.” He smoothes away a strand of hair from your cheek, tucking it behind your ear before gripping your chin, twisting your head to look at the scratches the Rodian left. “Pretty girl.”

Flushing red again while frozen in his grip, you stand there with him as he examines your face. His gaze is piercing, and you don’t know what he’s staring at. It doesn’t take this long to examine a face. You think he’s just looking at you.

“Let’s get back to the ship, that scratch needs some Bacta gel.” He drops his arm abruptly causing you to sway at the loss of an anchor. Hand flashing out to grip his bicep, you regain your balance before starting to pull him along, heading to the street. 

----------------   

The walk back to the Crest is short.

 You don’t know your way around this city but shipyards are easy enough to find. You recognize the signs pointing it out after your time spent as a mechanic, streets gradually widening to form into a flat strip of land for the vessels, heavy machinery appearing here and there. As you walk, you oddly find yourself getting dizzy, steps starting to drag as you realize you may have injured yourself in the struggle. You can’t recall if you hit your head or if anyone hurt you aside from the gash on your cheek, which has begun to throb. Did you knock your head on the alley wall? 

The Mandalorian grunts behind you when you trip, quickly overtaking your pace to throw your arm over his elbow, then walking at your side and subtly holding you steady. The Razor Crest rises into view over the horizon, so you speed up, relieved. You want to sit down so badly that you even try to jog but Mando holds you back. His helmet ducks down next to your ear.

“Don’t overexert yourself. I want to make sure that scratch isn’t poisoned.” He murmurs, voice overwhelmingly low. Your stomach twists with desire and surprise at the tone of it, he sounds like he’s flirting with you. 

“Does danger turn you on or something?” You blurt, wondering if there is a pattern to the man's desires. He did let you suck him off right after yesterday's conflict and now he seems to be coming onto you after an attempted mugging. Is this a Mandalorian thing? Weirdo. He doesn’t answer you, but the ship is right there so you break away and march up to the lowering ramp. 

You pause in the middle of the hull noticing some changes. The small cot seems to be upgraded, a patterned blanket is folded at the end and there is even a pillow. That sorry excuse of a fresher is more orderly too, shower hose hung from the ceiling like an actual, well, shower. There’s a sliding metal door for privacy installed on the entrance now too. The previously barren hull has a touch of coziness now, not enough to get in the way of efficiency, but everything is just a little more livable. It is unlikely that he did this just because you live with him now but the gesture is still thoughtful.

“Is this what you were doing?” You ask excitedly, walking across the room to sit on the end of the cot. 

“Not the entire time.” He answers vaguely, fiddling with his vambrace to close the ramp and flick the lights on. You just sigh in response, laying back against the bed, the thin mattress has a soft squish that cradles your sore body. Eyes sliding shut you take in the lovely sensation for a few moments. A shadow covers the light behind your eyelids. You open them to peek at the end of the bed, already feeling a blush hot on your cheeks.

Mando is standing there, towering over you with his legs just brushing your dangling lower half. He leans over your frame, arm reaching over you like he’s going to prop himself on top of your body. Your heart pounds as he comes close enough to settle his hand next to your head, helmet hovering right above your forehead. The visor tilts down to look at you frozen underneath him, heat pooling in your lower belly. An almost inaudible hum comes through the voice filter sounding like the beginning of a word as if he were about to say something but decided against it. 

You find your voice, asking him in a trembling whisper. ‘Wha-what? Did you say something?”

He makes that low noise again, replying, “Those scratches need Bacta,” before he gently shoves his hand under your shoulder and pulls, sitting you upright at the end of the cot. 

Your eyes are round, lips pursed in confusion. Honestly, you forgot all about that. 

“O-Oh yeah…” You manage to stutter out as Mando backs up from the opening, making his way to the storage shelves to rummage around. He comes back to the cot with a tin box, undoing the clasps to fish out a tube of gel and gauze. The imagery of medical equipment reminds you of the throbbing on your cheek, which is now accompanied by a throbbing in your cunt. Very conflicting feelings.

“There’s no discoloration or swelling, you’re likely not poisoned.” He starts wiping at your jaw with a wet fabric that smells of chemicals, cleaning off the rust-colored blood that dried there. “How are you feeling?”

“Ummm, fine pretty much.” His gentle motions make it hard to think, the swiping over your skin is so gentle that you’re zoning out. That is until he reaches the actual wound, which stings harshly from whatever liquid is saturating the fabric. You flinch, “Ouch! Well, it hurts now.”

“That means it's working.” Mando picks up the gel and dabs it on your cheek which helps to soothe the sting. “You say you feel fine yet you were stumbling around a minute ago. Are you sure you’re alright?” 

His question is sweet but you don’t like how he points out your loss of balance. It both concerns you and is slightly embarrassing. Are you alright? You aren't sure, the stumbling could’ve been from a number of things, exhaustion, blood loss, or any other affliction. You feel worried now, grabbing at Mando’s free arm and locking eyes with the visor.

“I-I’m not sure… I’m kinda freaked out, is it possible that a toxin could have a delayed-release? What if I kneel over while we’re in hyperspace?” You finish the sentence a little high-pitched, unable to hide the worry in your voice. The Mandalorian circles your wrist with his fingers, bringing your hand to rest on top of your leg and placing his palm over it. His thumb rubs soothingly over your knuckles. 

“I don’t think you’re in any danger. I’ll take a blood sample for testing then we can stay on Nevarro for an hour, just in case.” You make a sad noise when he removes his hand from yours, but he’s already sifting through the box of medical supplies, probably to find something to test your blood with. Pulling out a tube he turns to you and holds your hand again, which makes you smile until you realize the tube contains a needlepoint to prick your finger with. Oh yuck, you hate needles. A life spent surrounded by danger and that tiny jab still makes you nervous. Breaking out into a cold sweat, you look away as Mando jabs your pointer finger; he must’ve noticed your reaction because his thumb starts up that soothing pattern again. 

“You’re a trained mercenary who is scared of needles?” His tone isn’t mocking, he seems to be trying to distract you. You just stick your tongue out at him instead of verbally responding, worried that your voice will shake. For some reason, Mando freezes at this, one arm halfway to the metal box, the tube of your blood in hand. It is so odd of him that you instantly take note of the reaction, wondering what you did. After a second he starts jerkily moving again, laying a small strip of paper down and dripping your blood on it. He pointedly keeps his gaze on the paper, refusing to face you even when you poke at him. 

‘What? I can’t stick my tongue out at you?” You prod him again trying to provoke a response. You gasp when his hand flashes up and stops your finger in its path, his thick fingers wrapped around your wrist just like when you punched him in the alley.

“Not,” he punctuates the word by dragging your hand down his waist, “When it reminds me of my cock down your throat.”

Your clit throbs again, slickness starting to gather between your legs. “Ummm… sorry?” You reply dumbly, throat going dry when he presses your palm into his growing bulge with a groan. 

His helmet glances at the strip of paper again. “Results are normal. We should still stay on the planet for an hour, just in case… How will we fill the time?”

You don’t know how to respond. Any former thoughts you had in your mind have flown away, leaving you blank. Staring at Mando, your mind races to form a decent response, but you must’ve hesitated for too long because he rolls his hips into your hand, fully hard now. 

Whining, you lean toward him reaching out your free hand to wrap around his neck, but he moves away from your touch leaving you flushed on the cot. His helmet looks you up and down, contemplating something.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks for the second time, voice an octave lower than before. He picks up the roll of gauze, unused at this point, and holds it halfway lifted in the air in front of you. You aren’t sure what he is going to use it for, you assumed to dress the wound but from the way he is holding it, he must have other ideas. He would’ve already patched you up if this were just about the fabric’s typical function.

“I’m feeling fine. The gel is working.” It’s the truth. You can’t feel your cheek throbbing anymore. The Bacta in your bloodstream has a calming effect as well, soothing your anxiety from before. You feel good even, clear-minded and thrumming with energy. You can’t imagine what he is planning but you know you want him so badly it hurts. Your heart quickens.

“Mando…” You breathe, the way you say his name is both a question and a prompt. He answers by unrolling a strip of gauze and holding it out in front of your face. The breathing through his modulator is audible now, pants heavy with desire. 

“I cant- I can’t go slowly, if I fuck you right now. I want to try something else.” You nod fervently, completely ready for whatever he is thinking of doing to you however, you’re admittedly confused when he starts wrapping the gauze around your head and over your eyes. Mando unrolls several layers of gauze, a decently thick strip obstructing your vision to the point where little light penetrates the fabric. His voice startles you when you hear it right by your ear, asking, “Is this okay?”

You’re still wordless, nodding in response again. Mando hums and parts your legs with his hips, pulling you to his body and grinding against you. You mewl into the empty space in front of you and fling your arms out to find him, suddenly needing to feel as much of him as you can reach. 

Hands connecting with his shoulders, you pull him down hard as if you were going to kiss him. The helmet bumps you in the face instead. 

“Oops..” You murmur, embarrassed. Admittedly, you forgot all about the armor barrier between your bodies. Mando huffs softly and bumps you again, gently as to not hurt you with the heavy metal. 

“Wanna guess my idea? “ He asks, sliding down your body, his fingers trailing over every inch of you, touching you as if to replace him kissing down your body. He reaches your hips and pauses there. You can’t see anything but you’re guessing he is staring at you, the thin leggings don’t leave much to the imagination. A finger presses onto your clothed slit, running up and down the length of your pussy to gather the wetness there. You can feel yourself soaking through your clothing, Mando’s fingertip is gliding wetly along your folds as if you were unclothed. You arch into his touch, needing more from him; the overwhelming sensation has you falling back onto the cot, laying there with your legs parted and the Mandalorian still between your legs.

The world feels like it’s spinning for a multitude of reasons, first and foremost being the desire you feel for the man crouched before you. Other, more complex thoughts on the situation swirl in your mind, paralyzing you with their intensity. You honestly didn’t think he would want you sexually again, especially not so soon. It just didn’t make sense for your idea of the Mandalorian, the image you carry of him as a person, all based on your time together even if much of that time was spent living separate lives. He flirted and inferred to sex a few times today, plus there was that kiss he lay on your bruised knuckles earlier. He defended you, backed up your claims, and spoke of respecting you and your skills. He’s done so much for you today, but you’re still blindsided as you sit here before him, unseeing in more ways than one. Most of all... you can’t stop thinking about that kiss.

Seconds after you physically attacked him and he offers you a kiss. It was the absolute last outcome you expected from your efforts to taunt him, you wonder if he’s even allowed to do that considering his vow to never show his face. You knew he was actively sexual just from your awful experiences on the mercenary station, although you never gave much thought to that drive. It didn’t need much thought, in your opinion. He is a man after all. Face bared or hidden away from the galaxy he still has needs, even if he is devoted to a religion that you can barely fathom the depths of. Your wants and needs seem minuscule next to the enigma of the Mandalorian. 

This all seems unimportant when his fingers hook in the waistband of your leggings and pull. You whimper and lift your hips, trying desperately to speed up the process and bare yourself to him. The blasters you carry are still attached to your waist but you don’t try to remove them. Sex and guns pair together perfectly for the man.

Cool air hits your pussy at the same moment he moans low in his throat. “Fuck, look at you. Beautiful.” 

That reminds you, “Can’t look, can I? N-not like this…” You still weren’t sure about the gauze blindfold he secured over your eyes, your only idea so far is that he must be into this sort of thing. Not that you’re complaining. The temporary loss of sight has heightened every other sense you have, especially touch and sound. You’re certain you’ll remember every word of this encounter for the rest of your life. He’s complimented you several times over the past few days. Pretty. Beautiful. You’ll never forget that. 

“Still haven’t guessed?” The Mandalorian rumbles at your thigh, pulling your pants off your ankles and spreading your legs as wide as the cot doorway will allow. A short growl rips from his throat, his touch leaving your thighs much to your dismay as he fumbles with something. There is a heavy thud that you can't make sense of, he had to have set something large on the ground to make that noise but you don’t know what- oh. Oh, stars I can feel his breath. 

He took his helmet off. For you. The pieces are falling in place quickly but you can’t react to it- you can’t even breathe, every implication of his gesture setting your world ablaze. Your heart is pounding, arms stretched out from the tension you hold in your limbs, you need an anchor, anything-

There's a hot puff of air on your clit and gloveless fingers digging into your thighs. He must’ve removed those too.

It’s like you’ve been sucked into a stasis chamber, the buzz of your cerebral cortex halting all efforts to process what’s happening, enveloped in a place so quiet that you feel fucking crazy. The anticipation is killing you, you’re going to die here and that’s alright, that’s fine, you’d love to die here, in fact- wait where is he? His face is somewhere near your aching center, you know this because you can feel each breath he exhales ghosting over your pussy, the muscles in your hips want to squirm and seek him out but you can’t. Not with all this atmospheric pressure gathering, the weighted air pressing harder and harder down on you and you know you’re about to break. But you’re terrified you’ll disrupt the spell that keeps you both frozen here, still and aching with pleasure. You’re gathering the courage to make the first move when Mando finally breaks the silence.

“From now on,” you interrupt him with a gasp at how different he sounds without the voice filter, the tone is so much fuller and warm, but he then continues unperturbed, “This is fucking mine.”

Your yelp echos off the walls when his hot, skillful tongue liiicks up your slit, flicking at the very top of its path off of your clit. 

Fuck this feels so good, this feels so good, how does it feel like this, so fucking amazing? He barely even talks, how is he so dexterous with his tongue? Tortured noises fall out of your throat as Mando licks through your folds, trying to taste everything his mouth can possibly reach. He rolls his tongue repeatedly over your clit making you tense up and shake from the overwhelming sensation. There's a sound in the hull, you can barely discern the source of it at first but you suddenly realize it coming from your own mouth, a filthy mantra falling from your tongue.

Mando-Mando-Mando-Don’t stop- Please dont-Mando

He stops.

“Hey! What-” Your hands fly down and flounder around finding soft locks of hair and immediately latching on for dear life. Impatiently tugging at his scalp, you try to scoot down and find his talented tongue, your clit feeling cold and achy without his touch. But he’s so strong, a solid pillar of immovable stone and you can’t budge him at all, his only reaction being a deep growl when you yank a little too hard on his head. You must’ve pissed him off because one hand is suddenly on your heat, cupping your pussy with his palm but leaving a gap between your bodies, torturing you with the lack of friction. You whine pathetically at this game. 

“Mando-fuck- why… pleeeaaase.” His touch leaves you entirely and you’re more desperate than ever, writhing to the point where you almost slide off the thin mattress onto the floor. Your inner thighs connect with broad hips again, this time without the barrier of your leggings between you. When your cunt presses into his crotch you realize you can feel more than the cloth of his dark pants, he must’ve pulled his cock out because you can feel his skin, the skin of his cock brushing over you plus just a patch of it from where the hem of his pants is pulled under his balls. A ragged sound tears from both of you when his thick length parts your lips, grinding against your clit.

“I-I thought you weren’t, I mean you said-” 

“I’m not g-going to fuck you-” he gasps out, voice breaking despite the clear determination in his response, “not yet. I want you to use me and make yourself-fuck- cum. Fuck yourself on me.”

You’re speechless, there are absolutely no words in any of the Galaxy’s countless languages, known or unknown, that can succinctly express just how fucking turned on his suggestion makes you. Is this his way of giving back to you after you made him cum the night before? You don’t know, fuck- you don’t care either. Fuck whatever complex you had about owing him, you deserve this and you want it more than you’ve ever wanted anything in your fucking life. 

His broad body is propped over yours, cock grinding into you over and over again as he rolls his hips and groans out, “Well? You want it like this, pretty girl? Or do you-” 

You interrupt him by reaching between your legs and finding his cock, pushing it down your lips to your aching hole. He sucks in a sharp breath and everything is frozen in that quiet place again, just for a split second, before you press his length into your body, sinking down to the hilt. 

A broken sound comes out of you, your throat so tight that your vocal cords can’t rub together to produce anything louder than a squeak. However, the Mandalorian is not without his words, a string of curses tumbling from him in that gorgeous, rough voice. Fuck, holy fuck, you wish you could hear him speak like that for the rest of time, his real voice without the modulator hits you straight in the gut. He called you beautiful yet he doesn’t realize the power of his beauty has completely destroyed you. You’ll do anything for him, for that voice. When he claimed your pussy as his you realized that there was never a point in time where it didn’t belong to him. The Mandalorian moves mountains with his claims. 

He is like a mountain himself, completely stilling his body the second you let him inside you. You clench down on his thick length and drag yourself off of him, leaving only the swollen head inside your hole. You’re burning up, a sweat breaking out over your entire body as you try to take his cock. He’s so thick inside you, stars you can't control your fluttering lower muscles that pulse from the strain. The saliva and slickness helped him slide inside initially but now you’re clenched around him painfully tight as you try and adjust to his size. He lays so still for you, still muttering curses at the feeling of you, yet patient as you work yourself on his cock. But at some point, you can’t help letting out a little wail when you fuck yourself on him, the debilitating mix of pain and pleasure is fucking overwhelming and he can tell you’re struggling.

Mando settles lower on your body, elbows next to your head and armored torso brushing against your upper half, the ridges on his cuirass catching your nipples through your shirt. The movement slightly ruts his hips, an inch of his cock entering you accidentally. You swear and freeze at the sensation, face screwing up-it’s so good but you hurt just slightly. His mouth must be close to your face because you can feel his breath on your skin when he starts whispering filthy encouragement. 

“You’re doing so fucking good for me, taking my cock- fuck you’re so tight, how are you so tight- Maker that has to hurt, you can do it baby, keep-keep trying.” The elbow to your right lifts off the thin mattress, his hand caressing down your body, over your breasts, down your side, gentle trails from his fingertips ghosting over your skin and sending tingles all over. This helps to relax your muscles a little, you feel the walls of your cunt loosen just enough to relieve the uncomfortable ache. Wetness gathers around his cock from his encouragement, as you slide with more ease along him grinding yourself up and down on his solid cock.

It is fucking indescribable, a nearly out of body experience fucking yourself on him, every time you bottom out the thick head presses into a spot that sends flashes of white behind your eyelids. You can't even moan right now, the only noises you manage are shuddering gasps and whines as you feel yourself rise higher and higher. The peak is right there, you can feel it, you’re right fucking there-

“M-Mando, I’m gonna-gonna-fuck, I’m going-I-” You’re frantic, unable to string together the words 

The hand exploring your body diverts its path, reaching between your legs to rub strong circles around your clit.

He’s saying something to you but you can’t understand him, a rush of blood in your ears drowns out all other senses, the only thing you can feel is your blinding climax and the thick cock in your body. You’re clamped down tight on him as the sensation rips through you, building you up and destroying you over and over again. You can’t comprehend how he has the control to just hold himself there, you feel like you’re being wrung dry with how tightly you clench around him with each pulse of your orgasm. Eventually, the white noise fades from your ears and sensation returns to the rest of you, limbs tingling as you stretch the taut muscles.

Mando is trembling above you, arms shaking from the effort of propping himself up for so long. A soft noise leaves you and you wrap your arms around him, trying to soothe the tightness in his muscles like he did for you but the armor gets in your way. He makes a low noise in his throat when you skim over his side, finally allowing himself to rest when he lays on top of you, one arm still holding his full weight back so as to not crush you. You reach an arm under his shirt trying to feel more of his skin, but the padding and metal still attached to his body prevent you from moving more than a few inches.

This time, you’re first to break the silence, “What did-what were you saying?” you ask, not wanting to miss anything he says to you in his real, unfiltered voice. He doesn’t say or do anything at first, his hesitation lasting long enough that you resign yourself to never knowing. But then he lifts his head from where it lays next to yours and you feel the sharp tip of his nose brush your good cheek, over the bridge of your nose to the other side, then press closer into you as his lips meet yours. 

His kiss is so gentle that you forget he’s still hard inside you. All you can think about is the heat of his mouth crushing against yours, pressure held back enough so that he doesn’t dig into your injured cheek but filled with a promise of the energy he holds in his powerful body. You fucking hate those Rodians more than ever because you would give anything for him to kiss you with his full strength right now, holding back nothing. 

But soon -too soon, he draws back from your mouth and pulls his cock out of you. You blush at the obscene noise your wetness makes as he curses and wrenches the last inch away from your pussy, leaving you empty.

‘Come back to me…” You whisper desperately, reaching out for him.

“Fuck I can’t- I don’t want to hurt you.” Mando spits out, sounding wrecked, “I want to so fucking bad but I-”

You try pleading with him, wanting him to feel just as much blinding pleasure as you did from the way your bodies fit so perfectly together. “You won’t hurt me I swear, I can take it-you said I could.” 

He groans in a tortured, painful way, hesitating for a moment and you think you might’ve just convinced him to come back and fuck you- but the hand that eventually touches you isn’t anywhere near your pussy. He’s wrapping the gauze from your eyes, pulling it from your head to press into your cheek. You blink as your eyes adjust to the yellow light of the Crests hull, the usually dull fluorescents are piercing. Still, your vision is not quite blurry enough to hide the gleam of the polished Beskar sitting back on Mandos’s head. You swallow your disappointment at losing the pure tone of his voice to that damn modulator. 

“I can't,” he says softly, “you’re bleeding again. It was too rough.” 

You can’t argue with him. You feel a bit weak and dizzy which is not just from your powerful orgasm. Sleeping in the cockpit didn’t grant you the most restful night; you’re exhausted, slipping away even as he speaks. 

“I’m sleepy...” You mumble, your speech very simple when you’re this exhausted. Mando makes a low noise, indiscernible in tone now that it is passing through the voice filter. You hate that thing for stealing away the depth of his voice even as it fades with your consciousness. 

“Sleep now… I’ll pilot the ship while you rest. Sleep…”

And so you do.

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

     It’s many hours later. The ship hurtles through hyperspace as you stand and examine your cheek in the tiny mirror of the fresher, basked in yellow light. The wound isn't very deep but it’s long, stretching from the high point of your cheekbone halfway down to your jaw. You grimace at the sight. That will definitely leave a scar...

    The Mandalorian is moving quickly behind you in the ship's hull, arranging the carbonite freezing slabs in a way that you can’t make sense of but don’t really care about. You’re too preoccupied with your reflection to consider it. Mando takes note of this. 

    “Warrior marks.” He tells you, walking across the length of the ship to lean against the doorway of the small fresher. “Wear them proudly, burc’ya.”

Wear them proudly. 

And so you do.