Tumgik
#or 'people keep ignoring my boundaries and getting in my kid's personal space!'
rofax · 1 year
Text
I have said this many times to people in my day to day life, but for the record here: I simply cannot recommend resting bitch face enough. That shit is magical. Do you know who offers me unsolicited parenting advice? No one. Do you know who makes comments on my outfits or what I am eating as a fat woman? Not a soul. All because I passively look like I am cut from the same cloth as the Devil himself and just waiting for a reason. People look at me and go, "I have some dumb fuckshit to say but I'm actually just gonna keep it to myself, she looks mean." 10/10 get your resting bitch face on
13 notes · View notes
morganski-19 · 17 days
Text
Chills Right to the Marrow Part 12
part 1, prev part
The Chief walks into the hospital room the next day in full uniform. Pulling out his key ring and setting the key in the lock. The cuffs open, clacking against each other as he takes them back.
Eddie is free.
“I owe you an apology, I should have taken these off a long time ago.”
Wayne looks at the Chief, wondering if he should be grateful or angry. “Why happed with the feds?”
“They agreed to point the other way. Still looking for a fall guy, but it won’t be your nephew. I made sure of that.”
“Thank you.”
The Chief huffs. “Don’t be thanking me. You should thank Harrington, he really knocked some sense into my head.”
That seems to happen often. Through his actions, the way that he talks to people. The way that he’s respected Wayne’s boundary to leave him and Eddie alone. The way he cares for Dustin. Cares for Eddie even when Wayne didn’t want him too. Fought for the things he knew were true, never giving up.
Wayne really needed to talk to him.
“I hear he’s been getting better,” the Chief continues. Taking the seat next to Wayne.
Wayne nods. “Yeah, wakin’ up slowly. Should be able to talk again in a few days.”
The Chief nods. “I know I was really dragging my feet to get the cuffs off, but my offer still stands. If you need anything, feel free to give me a call. I still can’t tell you everything that happened, but as time goes on, you’re going to have a lot of questions. I can hopefully give you some answers. Lend a hand when you need me to.”
There’s going to be a lot of things that Wayne will never understand. Life has shown him that already. There were things that he didn’t understand before and learned to.
He can do it all again. Try to ignore the need for answers and try to understand. Have the patience he had when Eddie was younger. As he was learning how to be the person Eddie needed him to be.
“I appreciate that, Chief.”
“Please, just call me Jim.”
Jim leaves a little after that. Giving Wayne some space. He goes on a walk a little while later. Wanting some fresh air. Coming back to see Dustin heading down the hall, Steve sitting peacefully in the waiting room. Looking a hell of a lot better than yesterday.
“Can I talk to you?” Wayne sits down across from him. Ready to actually have a conversation with him for once.
Steve sits up a bit straighter, trying to make a better impression. “Yeah, sure.”
Wayne clears his throat. “I owe you an apology. You never gave me a reason to treat you the way I did and it was harsh of me to assume things about you. It’s not an excuse, but I was angry at a lot of things and seein’ you walk out of here fine while Eddie’s not. . . It was an easy thing for me to be mad at.”
“I don’t blame you. I think I would have reacted the same if it was my kid in Eddie’s position. You really have nothing to apologize for.”
“But I do,” Wayne insists. “You all clearly went through something that I don’t fully understand. I had no right to keep you from seeing him.”
Steve has a look a mix emotions. Like he’s fighting between gratitude and sorrow. “Would it be ok if I saw him now?”
Wayns nods. Walking down the hall with Steve to Eddie’s room, letting him sit in the chair next to him. He swears that he sees tears start to form in Steve’s eyes, but he blinks them away before he can confirm.
“Where’s the kid?” Wayne asks.
Steve clears his throat. “Visiting Max. She’s doing a lot better now.”
“That’s good.”
“He looks so different,” Steve says after a break of silence. “Like the energy of him was sucked out.”
Wayne nods, having felt the same way for a long time.
“I know I didn’t know him that long, but.” Steve takes a breath. “During that week, he was really starting to feel like someone who could become a friend. I was really looking forward to becoming his friend.”
“What happened to him?” Wayns asks, desperate. “What happened to you?”
Steve meets his eyes, a troubled look resting on his face. The want to tell him but the knowledge that he can’t. “I wish I could tell you, but I legally can’t. I know that probably doesn’t make it better.”
“It doesn’t. But I appreciate you trying.”
Dustin comes in and reads his chapter like he always does. Having to pull up another chair since Steve stole his. They leave shortly after it’s done. Giving Wayne a few minutes to himself before he has to leave for work.
He leans closer to Eddie’s bed, placing a hand on the empty bar. Afraid to touch him, to do anything to make him worse. But he hasn’t said much in the days he’s been here. Too hopeless to imagine that Eddie could hear him. Today, he decides to try.
“Hey, kid. I’m sorry that I haven’t talked to you much in the past week. You must think there’s somethin’ up. That you did somethin’ to make me not talk to you. That’s not the case.”
Fear like this is something that Wayne never wanted to experience. Losing a child is something that a parent never wanted to even think about. Let alone live through. And while Eddie isn’t technically Wayne’s kid, he is in all the ways that matter.
“Truth is, I was scared. I thought I lost you so many times in the past few weeks. Each time I came in here, I thought would be the day that the nurses told me you were really gone. That I lost my son.”
Words get choked in Wayne’s throat as tears fall down his face. Things he’s been too afraid to say all coming out at once.
“But I didn’t. You’re still here. And you’re gettin’ better and I am so proud of you.”
Eddie opens his eyes, looking toward Wayne. His fingers tense, raising slightly towards Wayne’s hand. Wayne places his hand on top of Eddie’s squeezing it tight.
“Nothin’ you could do could ever make me not proud of you.”
next part
Note: I’m not crying, you’re crying. Jesus why do I do this to myself. Also this concludes chapter three, now posted on my ao3. Back to Dustin's POV in the next part
tag list, let me know if you want to be added or removed: @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,
@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,
@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,
@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,
@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,
@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,
@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,
@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,
@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,
144 notes · View notes
memyselfandmya · 1 month
Text
JWCT PROMPT COUNTDOWN
Jwct countdown May 12-13 -> favorite friendship/duo:
I couldn't choose between Sammy & Kenji and Ben & Yaz so here's both of them in another excerpt from the fanfiction I'm in the process of writing. Again, this is mostly unedited. For context, they're at the water park in JW.
Sammy noticed Kenji standing off to the side with a disappointed look on his face. 
“Hey, Kenji! Did you wanna’ go–” 
He flipped his sunglasses to shade his eyes. “Sammy, let me stop you there. I know it’s hard to resist all this,” —he ran his hands across his shirtless chest, which Sammy hadn’t even been paying attention to— “but I’ve got a girl back home. And let me tell you, she is incredibly–”
She stared at him, head tilting a bit. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea after all. “Uh, Kenji. I don’t want to date you,” Sammy said. “Like, at all. I’m happy you have a girlfriend, though. I was just seeing if you wanted to hang out.” 
“Psh… Obviously. I was just kidding.” He cleared his throat. “About you asking me out. Not about my girlfriend... obviously,” he added on.
Sammy nodded her head slowly. “Right…well do you want to go on one of the rides?”
“Yes! Let’s go!”
“So tell me about this girlfriend of yours,” Sammy said as they began walking through the park.  
“Oh, uh–well you know. She’s really pretty. She’s got blonde hair…blue eyes? She’s, uh, really into art too.”
Sammy arched her eyebrow. It was obvious that Kenji was lying about his so-called girlfriend. Why he was, Sammy couldn’t be sure. Not that it really mattered to her. She wasn’t at all interested in Kenji—or boys for that matter. “She sure sounds like a great catch.”
Although to be honest, Kenji’s imaginary girlfriend didn’t seem like her type, at least not the blonde hair and blue eyes. Sounded more like her sister’s type in guys if anything.
Suddenly, her eyes caught on a huge slide with a line of people carrying bright yellow and green intertubes trailing from the base of its stairs all the way to the top which stood at about maybe 2 stories tall. 
“Last one to that slide has to carry the tube up!” Sammy shouted, pointing at said ride and dashing off before Kenji could get a word in. 
She could hear the sound of Kenji’s flip-flops smacking against the concrete as they ran for the line, ignoring the shrill whistle of a nearby lifeguard. 
Yasmina was still bristling from her encounter with Brooklyn. The nerve of that girl! Did she even understand personal boundaries? She just flitted around sticking her phone in everyone’s faces. It wasn’t fair that Brooklyn got to keep it just to be nosy. All Yasmina wanted was to plug her headphones in and listen to music.
It would’ve especially been helpful in that moment. Hundreds of kids were milling around screaming their fucking heads off and life guards blowing whistles at them and it was like shoving a bunch of forks in her ears. She just wished she could tune everything out. 
“Oh, look,” A familiar voice said. “There’s Yasmina!”
Kill me now, she thought, dread settling in her stomach. She sat up in her chair, to find Ben and Darius approaching her. Ben wasn’t so bad but Darius had just as much energy as Brooklynn or, dare she say it, Sammy. “What do you want?” She asked. 
Darius shrugged. “Nothing, really… Just chilling.”
Ben took a seat next to Yasmina, occupying not even an inch of the space and even that looked like it agonized him. 
“Have you done anything fun?” Darius asked, his eyes cutting to Ben.
Yasmina narrowed her eyes at him. What was he up to? “Nope. I’ve been here the entire time. Why?”
“Just asking,” he said. “Ben, I might go on the [Insert ride]. Are you good to stay here?”
So that's what he wanted. Not much of a surprise there.
She looked at Ben who shrugged. “Sure.” 
“Awesome! See you,” he said, not wasting a second to go run off towards the slide line. 
“Did he just dump you onto me?” She asked Ben. 
“Yeah, he did.” There was a hint of pain in his voice and Yasmina wondered how it must have felt to be abandoned like that. 
“Sorry.”
He shrugged. “I’m used to it.”
Well that’s depressing. Then Yasmina noticed how Ben hadn’t moved any and still balanced precariously on the edge of the bench like he didn’t want to touch it all. 
“Here,” she said, tossing him the towel she’d been using to shade her face. 
Ben fumbled but caught it in his hands before spreading it out over the chair. Finally, he sat his full body on it and curled into himself. “Thanks,” he mumbled.
“Don’t mention it.”
To be fair, out of all the campers, she was glad it was Ben and not one of the others. Ben was quiet and calm and he kept to himself instead of sticking his nose into her business. He was kind of like her, in a way. 
After a moment of silence between them, Yaz could hear sniffling. She sighed, wondering if this was something worth getting into. And then: “Are you okay?”
Ben hated it there. Nobody understood. He could tell he was upsetting Darius by not wanting to go on any of the attractions but Ben just couldn’t. The mere thought of touching the tubes or sliding down slides that so many others had gone down made his skin crawl. If he wasn’t wearing long sleeves he’d probably be scratching at his arms or lathering hand sanitizer on his skin. There wasn’t enough hand sanitizer in the world that could convince him to go on one of those rides, though. The only comforting thing about the wade pool or the lazy river was the heavy amount of chlorine in the water but Ben knew there was only so much he could handle that day. Ben hadn’t even noticed his nails digging into his skin or the salty tear leaking from his eye.
“Are you okay?” Yasmina’s question only seemed to draw more tears from him. 
“No,” he said, swiping at his face. “I want to go home.”
Yasmina was silent for a moment, and in that time he had begun to think that she too fell into the Ben hate club. Until, “Me too.” 
Ben and Yasmina's friendship is so precious to me, especially in s5 of CC and I really wanted to bring that up in the earlier parts of the fanfic I'm writing too.
26 notes · View notes
munsonthemisfit · 1 year
Text
This following post will be a rant about the fanfiction situation we have seen over the last couple of days. Please note: this rant covers the topic of child endangerment, assault, interacting in nsfw ways with minors, taboo themes and the internet's reaction to it all.
This post DOES NOT condone the creation of said subjects and does NOT go into detail about anything graphic other than explaining the situation at surface level. If this makes you uncomfortable then please skip this post, I have put it under a "keep reading" to ensure you aren't forced to read something that makes you upset <3
*sighs loudly*
Alright, fuckers. Buckle up, I’ve got something to say.
Firstly, there’s a major difference between a subject being dark/taboo and literally straight up illegal. I'm unsure how you cannot understand that, but here we are I suppose?
I do not care what your personal opinion is on the matter, there is a huge difference, and if you are someone who feels comfortable writing/reading/reblogging illegal material like what we have seen over the last couple of days, I truly have no shame in calling you out in the slightest. You can take that up with God or whatever kinda thing you believe in; I’m judging you and I’ll call you out on that shit when I see it. Things are illegal for a reason and I'm unsure why anyone feels the need/urge to post that kind of content without needing their hard drives checked in all honesty.
Fanfiction is a community; fandoms are a community.
We need to keep our community safe.
Writers post things with trigger warnings and content warnings, readers need to heed those warnings before consenting to interacting with it. We post smut for adults and everything else is free for all ages to enjoy.
We heavily insist that minors keep away from our content because as adults, we shouldn’t be interacting with any of y’all, but we know the risks when we post. There’s always going to be children who don’t listen, don’t respect our warnings, don’t get the hint that we block them for our protection as much as their own. Which is why writers (at least ones with their morals in check) will post on everything possible that minors are not allowed/will be blocked if caught interacting, and at almost 27 years old, I stand by this.
I don’t care if you think I’m an asshole, I do not consent for minors to be in my circle. If you are a minor and you choose to interact regardless of our boundaries/warnings, you are proving why we have to resort to blocking anyone we find infiltrating our bubble.
People over 18 do not even need to be interacting with minors, let alone providing them nsfw content, that isn’t for you yet. Kids will find ways to get what they want, and the older half of fandoms are aware of this because we used to be you, but you can’t get mad at us for doing our best to filter you out of our pages.
We do not want to appear complicit for providing any sort of adult content for you children. We have the right to protect our online space however we see fit.
Writers post stories with brief descriptions and warnings at the very top of their posts¸ to allow anyone scrolling by to know whether things are going to be your cup of tea. Even if these posts are reblogged, funnily enough, warnings and descriptions are still the first thing you can see.
I'm unsure on how people have chosen to use the excuse “I didn’t see/know” because there is literally no way you could have avoided that. To interact in any regard (liking/reblogging/commenting) you have to scroll past the entire story to get to those buttons, don’t try and say that you ignore the entire block of text in favour of interacting without knowing a single thing about it.
I refuse to believe that anyone who is on Tumblr is just “so busy” that they can skim read all forms of warnings on a horrendous post and still go ahead and spread it/encourage it by interacting. If you are going to be complicit, you are coming across as complacent.
If you choose to interact/spread horrendous content with the excuse of “well I didn’t know” despite the fact the writer themselves gives you a warning on the content, you are part of the problem.
When you come online, you have to do your part. Read things.
Take the time to truly see what is within your community, it is not our job to police it. We shouldn’t have to come and message you every time we think you are connected to something we don’t want to see, we don’t have to slide into your dms and ask if you knew what you were doing. If you have liked/reblogged a post with content we don’t like, that is you showing that you are complicit, that is you making a public statement of “this is okay with me, here my name and face is attached to positive reinforcement of giving this user notes” and that is enough to make us block you.
If you can “casually” like/reblog because you “skimmed” something, we can block under that same principle. We see your name attached to something illegal, we block. We don't owe anyone a second chance, if something makes us umcomfortable, we can remove it from our circle without needing to defend our choices.
I’ll be honest, I’m a busy person, I skim read. Yes.
However, the difference is, I will still take the time to ensure that what I am skim reading isn’t something illegal, and apparently that is something some of you are unable to do. If I have gone out of my way to like a post to get back to it later, I have skim read over the vague tone of the post beforehand, so I would have seen the giant fucking warnings that explain a post has some messed up shit in it.
I literally do not understand how you could have read over the warnings and gone “yep – I’ll read that later 😊” and then gotten upset that we have seen your name attached to the notes. That is a pathetic excuse. You should have seen the warnings and subject and taken a couple extra seconds before acting upon it.
It’s completely different if the author had sneakily slipped that in or not given a heads up about the subject, but they did, there is no excusing it, really.
As I said before, it is not our job to police things. I’m not going to sit and refresh a horrible person’s post and contact each person who likes/comments/reblogs it and be like “did you know that you’re doing this?!” because it’s not my job and you have already proven yourself to be okay with it as you’ve interacted.
We have full time jobs, classes to be attending, life to be living, we sure as hell are not going to slide into multiple DMS and question your every decision. If we see that you are causing the horrid writer to think we want more from them by interacting positively, we are going to see that as a red flag and block at source.
It might be just me, I’m not sure, but if someone tags their posts as “dark/taboo” then I will check out their page and see what their limits are. I want to know that I’m comfortable interacting with the type of content they will be writing. I don’t want to like one post from them and find out later that they post something utterly horrific because then I would appear complicit with their entire nature and that makes me massively uncomfortable.
So, yes, I will look at someone’s page and get a vibe check before interacting because funnily enough I don’t want my name attached to their potential abuse. It seems like the bare minimum to check out who’s in my circle and make sure none of us are encouraging illegal shit, y’all don’t vet authors who post and make sure they aren’t using fanfic as a way to normalise their morbid nature?
People aren’t getting policed for everything they say/do, people are being called out for attaching their name so confidently to a person/blog/story that has some horrendous content.
We are allowed to voice our discomfort and announce our detachment from said person/blog/story to bring awareness to those who were unaware to give them the chance to either consent to those posts in their circle or block at will. I’m not saying we should run around with pitchforks screaming “*insert @ here* is a nonce!!!!” if they “accidentally” like a post to “read later” as they claim, but I’m within my right as an adult with a moral compass to block/unfollow anyone I see liking that shit.
I don’t owe you an explanation, a chance at forgiveness, anything.
If something you have done makes me uncomfortable, you aren’t allowed near my page, why is that so hard for anyone to respect?
“Not everyone fully looks at content before they reblog it!!” Well, maybe y’all should start. Welcome to the internet, where you need to understand that actions have consequences. Accidents happen, but you’ve gotta accept responsibility and realise that accidents still have reactions.
If you do something we don’t morally agree with, even as an “accident”, and we are uncomfortable, we are blocking it.
“They only warned about *insert two illegal topics here* so why are you mad about us interacting with *insert different illegal topic here* that we ‘didn’t know’ was included?” – bruh, please try and have some self-awareness. People have different boundaries. If they are uncomfortable with you supporting any content with any illegal subject involved they are well within their right to block you.
The fact it took us mere seconds to skim read their accounts and find the problem, yet you are using the defence that you had “no idea” despite the fact y’all were the ones interacting with the account speaks volumes, my dude. Why are you promoting shit you “don’t agree with” and acting like you were clueless when it took us all mere seconds to find the problem and decide we aren’t okay with it?
You need to be way more careful with what you interact with online, that’s what needs to be taken from this.
Like I said – it is not our job to sit and gatekeep things 24/7. If we see people interacting with content we don’t agree with, blocking you is completely within our rights to do. You need to be responsible for your own online interactions and maybe not skimread things.
This isn’t directed at any one person, more the whole community.
I’ve unfortunately seen people defending their actions, I’ve seen many call out posts, I’ve seen people stating their repulsion to this situation, I’ve seen it all and acted accordingly. It’s that simple. This isn’t a hate post, I’m not indirectly mentioning anyone, I’ve just gathered the gist of the situation from the stream of it on my dashboard and this was my personal standpoint.
If you’re going to get mad that people are hurt over you mindlessly interacting with posts where people have fantasied and romanticised the idea of any character harming children in any form, whether you liked the posts “by accident,” or because you are a sick fuck, that is your problem, frankly. You cannot hurt people's feelings (whether it was by accident or maliciously), then get mad at them for being hurt.
You need to do better and actually read what you are interacting with before you do that. People are allowed to be hurt and uncomfortable and angry and upset over others deciding to sexualise horrendous topics.
We can’t exactly stop the content being made, but we can keep our circle clean of that shit and block/unfollow anyone who’s values clash with our own.
It’s that simple, internet. <3
113 notes · View notes
moonjxsung · 3 months
Note
ugh your response just ugggghhhhhh speaks to my soul. giggling and kicking my feet at how much u fit the minho agenda
i haven’t really been in too many relationships, but the ones that I have been in have been so terrible for my sexual identity. let’s get into it.
I’m extremely introverted, (but very open and bubbly around my friends/fam/inner circle ykwim?), but most of the time super shy and anxious ESP in public places that involve advocating for myself with ordering food or asking someone else for anything etc. I HATE IT I JUST WANT TO RUN AND HIDE AND RAHHHHHH
haven’t always been like this, i was a super extroverted kid, but i think as I’ve grown up and gone through a number of experiences in which I’ve lost that confidence and ignorant bliss that i used to have, my personality evolved as a result.
anywaysssss, my most recent ex was very extroverted but also very controlling, (which i ignored for way too long to not be affected by) however he lacked the ability to give me that safe feeling that i need in a relationship—i need a dom partner who uses that power dynamic in a loving and affirming way towards me, if that makes sense? like i get a lot of comfort from affirming words from the person im with in that dom position.
( the ex was a fucking waste of human . When i tried testing the waters to come out to him, he told me that if i was “gay”(meaning anything but straight) he would immediately break up with me and would have never dated me, he never made me cum even one time, and cheated on me :D )
anyways.
I’m such a sub but tbh would maybe be open to versing IF my partner was into that? yeah i feel like that was an even more submissive thing to say than saying I’m a sub goodbye🧍🏽‍♀️
Tumblr media
had to add the babygirl princess himself
Thank u for adding babygirl hanji he cleansed the palate after listening to your shitty ex story good LORDDDDD….. the part about you trying to come out to him????? Sheesh what a fucking loser
I totally get what you mean about someone needing to establish a safe environment for you to be in that sort of dynamic. I definitely feel the same way in that I need to feel safety and security before literally anything else in a relationship and because I’m usually the one who prefers to be in control, I try my best to keep things as safe as possible, like opening the door for clear communication, making sure we’re both on the same page about what we want, establishing clear boundaries, etc. It sounds like your ex never valued any of that and that’s why it wasn’t the fit for you. I think it’s very easy to get caught up in that mindset of feeling like you have more control over someone outside of a romantic or sexual sense when you’re the one wearing the pants in a relationship, so I definitely just advocate for very clear communication and being able to express what we both want out of something. And I usually expect it back (though I always somehow get stuck talking to women who like to reap the benefits of a woman w inherently masculine traits without wanting to date an actual woman and it sucks lmao) but yeah, in short I just like to sort of be the person initiating everything and taking care of another person and establishing a safe space for both of us to just be comfortable and safe with each other. That’s another reason I’m really attracted to introverts and shy people because I can sorta facilitate those conversations and check in w them to make sure they’re comfortable and the dynamic is just…. something I’m very attracted to lmao
You’ll definitely have your share of SHITTY fucking people and you’ll have to sort of learn what you want out of a relationship but I have no doubt you’re going to find someone who treats you like the absolute angel you are 🫶 don’t ever settle for less than you deserve and know that your scummy ex doesn’t determine what’s still out there for you. You deserve to be safe and loved and taken care of and your ex deserves to rot in hell
Sending u all my love little angel xoxoxoxo 💞💞💖💗💝💞💕💓👼🫶
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
rangespacer · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
guy who took the funny space cartoon too seriously under the cut. unedited because it is almost midnight.
manic pixie space ranger — 11/27/2022 12:43 AM i can go full nuclear now like oh my@god it's 1 am but bear with me i'll try to be coherent and i might revisit this i've gone on and on about how buzz was like. crafted to be the perfect ranger. he was bright and dedicated and talented, but more than that, he was naive, and had poor boundaries. it was easy to push him to and past his limits. he wanted to be the best ranger he could be, so if someone in power told him that that meant neglecting his health, he'd do it. and he held it together and they saw that as confirmation that they were on the right track. like whatever issues he was having did not prevent him from doing what they needed him to do. so he kept going. and going. there's an episode about buzz defecting from the force that i ignore wholesale simply because it's low key copaganda and i really don't want to touch it so it's irrelevant to me.
manic pixie space ranger — 11/27/2022 12:46 AM but buzz in ts3 says he had 'any doubt beaten out of him in the academy' so genuinely if buzz ever did think of leaving they were like. no. if buzz expressed doubts they were squashed. and i think nebula at least knows about the zurg thing and prods it occasionally to keep buzz on track. specifically like. he's like buzz you want to do good right? don't ever slip up be extra careful don't let him convince you otherwise because good people will get hurt. and honestly star command consider what they've done with buzz high risk high reward because they've groomed an INCREDIBLY talented, powerful, capable ranger just to go toe to toe with zurg. like zurg was such a threat that they needed a designated anti-zurg to deal with it. someone who could think like him and stay one step ahead of him. someone smart and intuitive. someone strong and loving. but the issue is making someone think like zurg means making them insane. because zurg is fucking unhinged. like they didn't make buzz ill he was baseline ocd and autistic. but. they had him study everything they had on zurg. for years. so he would know what to do. and told him he was the only one they wanted on it. BECAUSE IT WAS LIKE READING THE NECRONOMICON. IMAGINE THE PATTERNS THAT HAVE TO APPEAR THAT ONLY APPEAR IN ZURG'S STUFF TO LEAD TO THE PEN INCIDENT. THEY TREATED HIS BRAIN LIKE A BALLERINA'S FOOT. IT BROKE AND HEALED IN A NEW POSITION BETTER SUITED TO THE TASK. BUT IT DID. BREAK so you have this guy. junior space ranger as a kid then 18 on he's in the academy. you expose him to thought patterns so maladjusted and rancid and tell him you have to think like this if you don't people will die. and he does it and not only does he do it but you don't lose him to the insanity or zurg! in fact he's a wonderful person. crazy! but so full of love he could single-handedly purify the unimind. and then you say. buzz. we know we warned you about zurg. that we've been very careful and you've been very careful about what contact you have with him and how and when. but we need to send you into the back lines undercover. you need to pretend to work for him. the one thing you know we all fear. the one thing we made you swear never to do. you need to pretend. you need to live like that when someone tries to escape the empire. for their sake you need to put your hand directly onto the psychological stove and hold it there. if your cover is blown we cannot pull you out. (nebula only real chad moment going against this to try and save buzz i give him some points.)
manic pixie space ranger — 11/27/2022 12:57 AM you will die in zurg space. because you'll have to go over to his side so he won't kill you, in which case that's our red flag for you and we will kill you. you have no options so do not get caught. you can't tell your partner, the love of your life. by the way he did this but for real. he actually double crossed you. you still need to be shiv katall. even if it means working with him. you can't tell your new team. no one can ever know you are going to the grave with this secret. if you blow it those people trying to escape zurg to find a better life? will die. and that will be on you. if it goes smoothly you will be doing something incredible. any misstep and you're cosmic dust. so make sure zurg trusts you. but don't do anything that would make us not trust you. and that's when buzz starts to see 'buzz lightyear' as something other than himself. he's forced to go away inside of shiv to do good in the galaxy, and the abstract image of buzz lightyear has to be preserved and cannot be impacted by what the actual human being is going through.
manic pixie space ranger — 11/27/2022 1:04 AM JUST THE FUCKING THE. IT'S SCI FI. AND YET. THE ESSENTIAL ASTRONAUT THEME OF. I MAY BE GOING ON A ONE WAY TRIP. EVEN IN A PURE SPACE SETTING BUZZ IS THE ASTRONAUT TO ME. You develop an instant global consciousness, a people orientation, an intense dissatisfaction with the state of the world, and a compulsion to do something about it. From out there on the moon, international politics look so petty. You want to grab a politician by the scruff of the neck and drag him a quarter of a million miles out and say, ‘Look at that, you son of a bitch.' Buzz is such a kind person He has such a capacity for love He's a stickler for rules he's brainwashed within what is yes a police state But the core of him to me is the astronaut someone who goes on a one way trip to push the boundaries for everyone behind them and who looks back on the planet from far above and watches every border every stupid conflict melt away as they realize that there is nothing more important to them than that miraculous rock
manic pixie space ranger — 11/27/2022 1:16 AM LIKE THE CARTOON IS SILLY AND I LOVE THAT ITS SILLY AND IM NOT ARGUING THAT IT SHOULD BE GRIMDARK BUT IM IN MY SAUCE AND SO CHARMED BY BUZZ'S FAITH IN WARP AND TBE WAY HE TALKS TO XL
10 notes · View notes
violetfeatherwind · 1 year
Text
Introduction/Rules for my blog
Name: Mila
Name pronouncing: mee-la
Gender: Female (she/her)
Username origin: Got it from the side of a Kellogg’s Unicorn cereal box where you search for your “Unicorn Name”. My name begins with an “M” and it was next to the word “Violet”. My birthday is in October, and that was next to “Feather Wind”. It’s also where I got the idea of giving myself purple feather earrings, even though I don’t own any.
Goals: Creating an independent animation studio where I can create original projects/becoming an animator
Personal animation preference: 2D animation that is traditionally hand drawn/detailed. Doesn’t matter the art style or medium. Nothing rigged, puppeted, or limited.
Likes: Cartoons (mostly western), animation, Hot Topic, comics, alternative styles (like grunge, goth, scene, punk, etc), boys’ clothing, animals (such as puppies, frogs, manatees, small birds, axolotls, Guinea pigs, etc), cyberpunk style, sci-fi, techno music, big band music, jazz music space themes/aesthetics, musicals, original songs, creating original characters, hanging out with friends, talking about interests to my friends, when people respect my likes and boundaries, soda (no diet or zero), junk food, cheese pizza (depends on where it’s from, I’m picky), going to the movies, traveling, sketchbooks, art stores, soap, having my hair straight, when my face is clear, singing, and plushies (there’s tons more, but here’s what I can think of😅)
Dislikes: When people don’t respect my dislikes and boundaries, making noises/showing me stuff/talking about stuff I don’t like/playing something just to tick me off or see my reaction, being taken advantage of, people being ***holes online (and irl), when someone says their opinions are facts, when people use their race/ethnicity as an excuse for how their parents raised/treated them (or just about anything that has nothing to do with their race), people pushing their agenda on to people, corporal punishment, people forcing their religion or beliefs onto others, politics, when people don’t take me seriously, being ignored, when people say my opinions and preferences are wrong, when I say that I have never seen/heard of/been interested in a certain genre/food/movie or show and they say “ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! SERIOUSLY?! HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW/LIKE THAT?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”, feces humor, creepy crawlers and insects (like spiders, hornets, bees, flies, wasps, yellow jackets, beetles, roaches, etc), getting water in my ears and nose, acne, when something I wanted to buy being sold out, when I can’t find what I’m looking for at a certain store, needles, rude people, ableist people, when people tell me: “Well, that’s life for ya” or “That’s just life, get used to it” and stuff like that, when people don’t flush the toilet or don’t wipe the toilet seat, artificial intelligence (AI), when bots follow me, creepy people online leaving weird messages, untrustworthy people, and promotional comments (oof! That’s a long list!😅)
Do’s and Don’ts:
Do:
Reblog and like my posts including my work (if you want)
Type down a nice comment (if you want)
Be respectful to others in the comments
Share my work around with friends and family (just NO reposting my work even if you give credit)
Keep stuff here mostly SFW
Don’t:
Harass me and others
Follow me for no reason (or without taking the time to know what I post)
Go into direct messages and send me NSFW content, comments, and links
Critique my work when I didn’t ask for it
Reblog with a hateful, negative, gawking comment
Be an ***hole
Send death threats
Be a creep
Be racist, hateful towards LGBT people and topics, or ableist
Repost my work and claim it as your own
Send promotions
Interact if you are a bot or support AI
What I post:
Original art
Fan art
Serotonin
Reviews
Animals
Memes
Animation
Hauls
Cartoons and movies
And more
Franchises I talk about:
Invader Zim
Sonic the Hedgehog
NiGHTS Into/Journey of Dreams
Balan Wonderworld
Hazbin Hotel
Helluva Boss
Murder Drones
Nightmare Before Christmas
Poppy Playtime
Bendy and the Ink Machine/Dark Revival
And more
(Note: might edit this post later!)
6 notes · View notes
oonajaeadira · 2 years
Note
"But it helps if people are okay with just being wrong. Being human. Admitting to a mistake. We all make them, every single one of us. We only do more damage when we deflect. It's okay to say "I'm sorry." It's okay to say "I didn't know." It's okay to say "I won't do that again and let me ask questions so I know how to do it right." And it is the right of the person who has been hurt NOT to give that forgiveness. That is valid. But, in fact, admitting your fault will find you acceptance and forgiveness so much much faster because it shows care for the other."
Hi, I'm the original anon you responded to! As much as I love this, I sadly disagree. I want to agree, but I've seen far too many people both celebrities and regular people online make a mistake and own up to it but then are still dragged for it. It's why I sent in my ask with empathy, because if there's anything I've learned from the Pedro Pascal fandom specifically, it's that there are people who can accept apologies and move on and others who just want blackmail. To them, an apology is proof to hold over someone as a reminder that they were wrong when they do anything moving forward that they or others deem problematic. The Pedro fandom in general I've found has sects where serious boundaries are crossed and harassment is almost like a badge of honor.
A good friend of mine made a really dumb mistake on Twitter and after a few months, he was STILL getting harrassed despite writing a tweet acknowledging what he's done and that he's sorry and explained how he'll do better moving forward. He had to delete Twitter and make his socials private and is honestly afraid of trying social media again because people take things too far. This wasn't in the Pedro fandom or even Star Wars, I don't want to go into detail out of his privacy, but I just remember how hard his mental health took it and it made him resentful rather than humble. As a teacher, I've tried to keep this mind that our energy and words can impact us, and that people are more receptive to kind accountability rather than being yelled at. Being yelled at just makes people, like kids, want to hide things and not trust others with their honesty if it's used against them. It's not justifiable the older we get, but it's hard to unlearn habits when a world scrutinizes you for trying to do something right the wrong way.
Now I'm not saying this is the case regarding your friend and others who've been hurt and wronged in this instance, or that people shouldn't apologize, but I recognize whiy javispinkshirt may feel like they can't apologize with how extreme the Pedro fandom has shown to be to members in its own community. It's why I can understand how some people may think silence is better than an apology, even if they really are sorry, and hope that changed behavior is as good of an apology even if it's not the favored ending for everyone involved.
I just think with cancel culture, we live in an age where people are afraid to accidentally do something wrong, and then their apologies be thrown in their faces. I'm #old but it feels like to me Covid brought out an ugly side to a lot of people and the isolation and traumas from the beginning of the pandemic have had people not know how to maturely navigate their emotions online and off. Being stuck inside with big emotions and not enough space to express them has led to a lot of violence on social media that I've never seen before. They make a lot of irrational and impulsive decisions and I have seen people act like martyrs for ganging up on people they think are problematic. Even if it was one mistake, even if it was a dumb mistake. I've seen people try to cancel peoples' careers and ruin their social lives and doxx personal information about them in retaliation, and I think people prefer to get defensive over their actions than admitting to being wrong because it's easier to feel dignified in your ignorance than be torn apart despite doing the right thing.
It's why I want people reading this to understand that once a point has been made and the person has admitted their wrongs or changed their behavior and moved on, leave them alone. No one deserves to be a pariah forever, especially if their behavior isn't constantly repeated with no hint of guilt or shame or wanting to change. My mom (who is no longer in my life) was like that. She'd tell people she's "sorry you feel that way" and then continue doing whatever she wants regardless of how others feel. It's why I have more empathy for people who may not always apologize out loud, but try to show they're sorry in other ways and move on. My dad was never good with words, but he'd go out of his way to show he was sorry to whomever he hurt and immediately changed his behavior. Not everyone is great with words and it takes time and practice to get there.
I hope this is dropped by Friday and people move on. If people want to block people who hurt them or the very image of them bothers them, I get it that's valid. But I think after a week, any other harassment or posts regarding this person is excessive and no longer about teaching them a lesson and asking for an apology, it's just harassment to justify valid emotions.
Thank you for hearing me out, and again I have love for everyone involved including you. I agree with you completely, minus this one part, and I hope everyone can heal and move on and learn lessons and be kind. Everyone deserves a safe space and a second chance as long as they don't continue to abuse others' kindness and take advantage of the chances given.
I think you make some very sound points. Thank you. I too hope that things get resolved peacefully and respectfully.
I want to post your response because I can see that you feel strongly about this. But I hope that you don't mind if I bow out of the discussion here. I just worked a 13hr day and to be painfully and embarrassingly honest, just I blew all of tonight's brain power on the two previous responses and don't have anything intelligent to add. I feel like the girl at the slumberparty that just lost her second wind and is trying to contribute to the conversation but is falling asleep nodding and like, "yeah, I know, right?"
....Y'all gonna draw on my face with sharpie, aren't you.
Tumblr media
3 notes · View notes
hotwings0203 · 3 years
Text
I feel like Dabi would be the type of dude who would bully you incessantly at the LOV and for the life of you you can’t figure out why. He’s always around you and making snarky comments or pulling your hair, trying to catch you messing up on missions. You’re sure he hates you, and you do well to stay out of his way, or sometimes when you feel bold you’ll offer a quip of your own. The bullying increases whenever you talk to other guys at the bar, especially when you make Tomura crack a smile, Dabi’s breathing down your neck the second your leader leaves, calling you terrible names and pushing past your boundaries.
Cw: language, nsfw, noncon, manga spoilers, some angst?
In a perfect world, Touya would not have been abandoned and rejected by his family. In a perfect world, Dabi would not exist, and Touya would be eating dinner with his family right now as he shows his little brother how to properly wield fire to its fullest extent.
But there was no such thing as a perfect world, and therefore Dabi did exist. And Dabi doesn’t care for anyone, or anything.
Or so he tells himself.
“Slut”
“Nothing but eye candy, and shitty eye candy at that”
It’s nothing you haven’t heard before, but it doesn’t make it any easier to ignore him
“What was that all about, huh? The fuck are you and crusty snickering about?”
Fed up with his continuous antics, you decide to mouth off a little too.
“Oh nothing, just talking about how adorable you and Hawks would make as a couple. And wipe that sneer off your face, it looks like some of your staples fell out of your mouth.”
It’s nothing too snarky, but in a second he’s shoving you in some dark room, forearm pinned against your throat as his hand is lit up with blue flames merely inches away from you, snarling in your face.
“You wanna be funny, bitch? I got jokes of my own too, why dont I show you what happens to dumb little girls who don’t know their fucking place? I think that would be real funny.”
But his hand is stopped from drawing near your wide eyes when you both hear Twice and Toga calling everyone for their next meeting.
He pushes you away from him, giving you a murderous look over his shoulder as he leaves the room, not paying mind to the way you slide down the wall in the dark.
You take extra precaution to try avoiding him for the next few days, not even making eye contact with him when you two get teamed up for tasks. He never mentions the room incident, if anything he acts as if it never happens. It’s like whiplash for you, he tries to weirdly talk to you more but all you offer him is mumbles and hums of agreement.
The conversation is never long, but it starts to be less talk of degrading you and more of begrudging questioning of what you’ve been up to. You never engage, opting to pretend like you never heard him, and strangely enough he leaves it be.
You give him a side eye one day as he joins you at the bar (much to your discontent), downing your glass just to fill another.
He says nothing as he slides into the stool right next to you, and pours a glass of whiskey for himself as well.
It’s awkwardly silent, you’re not sure if you should leave or not, but you’d be damned if you try to initiate small talk with this psycho.
But then, he speaks.
“Is Shigaraki sending you on the mission to get that UA kid?”
His gravely voice rumbles and cracks from his usual lack of use, and he clears his throat after he talks.
“No.”
“Oh.”
This is excruciating, you think to yourself as he mulls over the drink in his hand for a silent minute or two.
Toga calls you over thankfully at the exact same moment, and you breathe out an inaudible sigh of relief as you slip off the stool to join her.
“Wait-“ Dabi grabs your arm and you flinch out of instinct, expecting a slap or a burn to come from him.
He sees your reaction and shakes his head dismissively, letting you go and muttering a “Nevermind”. You don’t ponder over it as you trip over your own feet to join the eccentric blond.
A week passes, and then two. With each day you maneuver your way around him, request to be partnered up with different people in private, and busy yourself in random tasks. Every time you pass him by the bar he lifts his head from whatever he’s doing and tries to maintain eye contact with you, even going so far as to open his mouth to say or ask god-knows-what.
You try to ignore the foreign hopeful glint in his glacial eyes as you walk right past him, ducking your head as you do so.
It drives Dabi crazy.
He can’t handle any more rejection, he thought his family would be the last straw for him to ever want recognition or love validation from again. He wants to talk to you, to hear your voice as it snaps back with witty comebacks of your own that he secretly enjoys so much, even if it means he has to force it out of you with hateful words. He wants to feel your hair underneath his scarred hands, even if he has to mask the soft wanting of you in forms of yanking the strands. He wants nothing more than to see your eyes fill up with no other sight than him and think only of him, even if it means he has to corner you and scare you into submission.
But your silence is something he’s not used to.
Well, to be fair, you weren’t silent completely, but the only sentences he was hearing from you nowadays was when you were speaking to Shigaraki or the other League members.
You were the only idiot who didn’t notice the smoke curling from his nostrils and ears comically when he’d finally see you stop your stoic act just to open up to other men apart from him. Spinner, Twice, and Compress backed off almost immediately from talking to you for too long when they’d see the look on his face as he watched you surrounded by them, but Tomura would merely smirk from behind your shoulders and keep a level gaze with his subordinate, knowing fully well why he was so pissed off.
You began to notice the weird energy at the base soon after the rest of the men would keep curt conversations with you in comparison to your long talks about video games, sex, and life after you would all win the war.
So you thought it would be best to ask the most semi-normal person there that wasn’t fueled with testosterone and aggression.
“I just don’t get it, why are they all being weird? I mean, we all used to talk so much and now they just...try avoiding me. Except for Tomura of course, he’s still normal I guess. But he always has this smirk on his face when I’m with him and I can’t figure out why.”
Toga stops cleaning her blood-laced needle to give you a sly look, all fangs and glinting white.
“And Dabi?”
“What about him?”
She sits back on her haunches and cocks her head at you. “You really don’t know what’s happening here, do ya?”
“No,” you roll your eyes in exasperation. “But I’ll gladly take any theories here, since apparently I’m the only one who doesn’t get it.”
“He likes you.”
You gape at her for a moment and then burst out laughing.
“What? That’s crazy, he doesn’t like me, he hates me!” He can barely stand being in a room with me, all he does is talk shit and harass me.”
The blond curiously licks at a bead of red from the top of the weapon and you cringe when her own tongue rips from the sharp point.
“You say he can’t stand being in a room with you, so then why is it that he’s always there? He might talk shit, but he talks to you out of everyone else right? Regardless of if it’s something mean.”
You’re thoroughly flabbergasted. She had a point, but it was too much to wrap your head around. She cheerfully hums and gets up to flounce around the room, cleaning her already-tidy room up to a T.
“And that little silent treatment act you’re giving him isn’t helping either. I swear, Jin told me Dabi almost burned his mouth off that one day you, him and Spinner were talking about GTA. He totally cornered the poor guy and threatened his life if he didn’t stop talking to you.”
“You’re joking.”
“Am not. He wanted to do the same to Tomura but I figure he wants to keep his job, so he won’t. Doesnt make it any better for him when you’re all chummy with the one person Dabi can’t stand the most, though.”
No wonder your leader was so smug whenever you two were in the same room, your attention solely focused on him.
You run your hands down your face, moaning about the whole situation being fucked. It’s just your luck that you couldn’t take a clue, but to be fair, how could you? Being called worthless and a waste of space wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for flirty banter.
“Soooo what’re you gonna do now? I heard he’s gonna try talking to you for realsies like, tomorrow or something.”
“Tomorrow?” You yelp, jumping up to your feet. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I can’t face him!”
“Oops,” she giggles, twirling with outstretched arms around her room and falling down onto her bed.
“Oh god, I can’t do this. I don’t even know if I like him! He’s such an ass, and even when he tries to come off as normal he’s just so..unsettling. I don’t think I’ve ever had a good conversation with him.”
Toga props her elbow up to rest her chin on her hand, frowning in thought.
“Why not just tell him how you feel?”
You snort and fold your arms. “Yeah, because the psycho arsonist is really gonna take the word no well.”
“Hmm.. I see what you mean. Oh well, whatever you choose, I’ll support you!”
And with that she skips out of the room sing songing for Twice to make a clone for her.
You were fucked.
And sure enough, the next day he approaches you, hands stuffed in his pockets and an almost bored look on his face.
“Yo newbie, I gotta talk to you for a second. Come with me”.
You look blearily up at him through eye bags and mussed hair, a direct telling of your sleepless night. Your stomach drops when you hear his words, but you nod your head and take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself of the speech you practiced till the sun rose.
No one else is bothering you both today, Shigaraki having gone to visit All For One and the rest of the League left to their own devices. It was something you weren’t so comfortable with, but you doubted a hero would come to save you.
He leads you through the short winding hallways, each step of his growing louder and heavier as the space started growing smaller. Finally, he reaches a dimly lit room and stops outside the door, gesturing for you to go in with a casual wave of his patched wrist.
“After you.”
You raise an unsure eyebrow at his uncharacteristic show of consideration, and do as he says. You’re sweating bullets, fists balled so that your nails are digging into your palms, and vision going in and out of focus as your eyes begin to adjust to your surroundings.
A loud bang pulls you out of your stupor, and you whip around at the sound.
Dabi is already staring back at you with lidded eyes, leaning his weight against the door, his arms crossing over each other.
You shift on both feet, picking at your nails nervously.
“So, what did you wanna talk about?”
He says nothing, but just observes you, his head slightly tilted as if you were some abstract art piece.
“Dabi.”
“You got a lot of nerve, y’know that?”
He pushes himself off the wall and advances slowly towards you, hands stuffed in his trench coat pockets.
You immediately back up with raised palms, sputtering indignantly at his offensive movements coming closer and closer. However you thought his ‘confession’ would go, this was most definitely not starting out like how you planned
“Excuse me? What’re you talking about-“
“I know what you’re doing. You think whoring yourself out to ol’ crusty and the rest of the guys here is gonna make everyone forget just how useless you actually are. What the fuck do you even do here? You fuck up half the missions which I have to come bail your ass out of, you constantly put us in jeopardy by being all friendly with everyone, and you can’t even keep your mouth shut when I need to let off a little steam, as I rightfully should.”
In a perfect world, Dabi would be the light of your eyes, the hero of your world. In a perfect world, Dabi would be able to hold your hand in his smooth one and tell you that he wants you so much that it impairs his rational judgement and makes him say things he doesn’t mean. He’d tell you that your presence is like a weight lifted off his chest, your presence means he doesn’t have to think or worry about the outside world, he just wants you all to himself without anyone interfering.
But this is not a perfect world, and Dabi is not a hero, but rather one of the worst villains.
So he does exactly what one does as a villain.
Instead of a loving look that he knows he’s incapable of, Dabi looks down into your horrified gaze as he traps you against the wall between his scarred arms, spewing misplaced venom at you.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but you need to chill out. First you go ballistic on me ‘cause I talked to Tomura for no reason, then you act all weird and quiet as if you’re some decent person, and now you think you can just bring me in here and tell me how worthless I am? Go fuck yourself, seriously.”
You scoff and make your way to push him but stop when he does what he did a couple weeks ago. You hold bated breath as he casually brings an inflamed hand to scratch at his face as if he can’t feel the hellfire emitting from it, and let out a whine of distress as he lowers his head mere inches from yours, lips almost touching.
“Stop talking to the rest of the guys,” he breaths. “Stop smiling, laughing, or going near anyone who isn’t me.”
You wonder if he knows how insane he sounds. He does, but that’s nothing he doesn’t know already. If anything, it solidifies in his mind that if he is to be as bad as the world has made him out to be, then he is acting exactly fit for the role.
“Why?”
“I don’t need to give sluts like you a reason. It should come as easy, right? What’s putting out for one more person?”
Your eyes are brimming with tears now, your stoic facade showing cracks as you sniffle a little bit.
He eats it up and groans watching salty rivers cascade down your cheeks. Suddenly, he feels as though he can no longer hold back anymore, he feels as though if he thinks for one more second he’ll combust.
So, acting on instinct, he surges forward and presses his lips against yours, swallowing your cries of distress and holding your hands above your head in midst of them frantically beating on his chest.
Your lips are so, so soft compared to his and it’s making him sink deeper into this instinctual daze. He puffs against your writhing lips as he thrusts his hot tongue in your mouth.
You try to bite him but when his hands heat up against your skin you resign to your fate and wail, allowing him to pull his hips flush against yours and start humping your thighs.
He draws back and bites your lips, teeth clacking against yours as he does so. You open your terrified eyes and blanch when you see the look on his face.
Lust is clearly drawn everywhere, from his blown pupils to his heaving chest, all the way to his flushed face and wild eyes. He looks as though he’s about to eat you alive and it’s appropriate that you feel like a lamb about to be slaughtered.
“Dabi, wait, please stop-“
But he cuts your pants off again in favor of slamming his hips against yours again and grinding impossibly hard on your legs, the friction of his jeans catching on your clothed cunt and forcing a mewl out of you.
“I’m not gonna stop. I’ve had enough of you teasing. You’re mine now, and if it takes burning our dear leader alive and this whole place down for you to understand that then I’ll fucking do it.”
He thought that terrorizing you would ease the empty feeling in his heart, that continuously berating you would force him to see you as what he always said you were, just another empty headed cunt. He thought that distancing himself from you and focusing on other things would make him forget about the soft feelings he longed to share with you, feelings he thought perished in the fire he was in when he was a young boy .
Even now, there is an ache in his chest as he hears you beg for him to stop, to let you go, that you’re sorry for whatever you did.
But this is not a perfect world, and not everyone gets their way in life.
You should really learn that, because Dabi already has.
And so Dabi will act accordingly to what life has put out before him .
1K notes · View notes
cemeterything · 3 years
Note
Yeah I know what you feel I see stories popping up every so often about people saying horrible things in twitch streamers chat and they do nothing to stop it and I’m like I’d have a nervous breakdown if there was so much racism in my chat and then at the same time I see people that Stan creators and I’m like shit even if the creator doesn’t turn out to be horrible it’s still like almost a cult but the creator didn’t even want to make one. No need to answer this ask just wanted you to know others have a similar opinion on the situation
yeah. the issue with addressing parasocial relationships
is that they're extremely complicated to discuss, because everyone involved in them past the point where boundaries get blurred and ignored is in some way a victim because they're not healthy for anyone. and anything you do as a content creator feeds into them. and no matter what you say or do some people will continue doing things you've said you're uncomfortable with because it doesn't match up with the version of you they've formed a relationship with in their heads. or to get a reaction out of you because the possibility of receiving your attention, no matter how realistic, is a major part of what fuels a parasocial relationship. (which is not me saying content creators shouldn't address things like racism and other forms of bigotry in their fanbases, but there's only so much they can do and even if they try to block or ban as many people as possible to discourage them there's always some people who'll slip past because there's just too much for one person or even a team of mods to keep up with 24/7).
and at the same time content creators do use these relationships to make money through fan meetups, selling merch, random interactions online, etc. which in a way can't be helped because that's how they make their careers but does arguably exploit people who've fallen off the parasocial deep end and need help and support getting out of that mindset. but also any creator with a platform cannot bear responsibility for or offer support to every single person who claims to be a fan of them and in fact could cause more harm than good by feeding into that desire for attention.
parasocial relationships can drive people to do increasingly desperate and unreasonable things in pursuit of that (entirely human, but often unreasonable and unhealthy in parasocial relationships) need to receive validation, which is unfortunately just the nature of online spaces to develop because we all post and interact with each other at least partly to receive the validation of other people liking our content and, by extension, especially in parasocial relationships, us.
i'm speaking from experience. i used to be addicted to receiving validation online (and i am a former addict, so i don't make that comparison without understanding the implications) because there is a high that comes with seeing the numbers of likes and shares and positive comments on your content go up and it is possible to get addicted to that rush. i did, and it took me the better part of a year after realizing how negatively it was affecting my life and therapy - no, i'm not kidding - to start to make progress and no longer be obsessed with pleasing strangers online who know very little about me and don't really care about me even if they think they do (and this is not in any way an attack on my followers, i'm sure many of you are good, kind, helpful people, but at the same time the concept of me that exists in your minds and you care about is a parasocial one.)
this is even harder if you're a content creator who has a career online. i don't make any money from posting on tumblr. so it doesn't matter if i produce less content or don't consistently interact with the people who follow me for that content. but if you do, it's not easy to step away from that and try to recover from and distance yourself from parasocial relationships and set boundaries when your whole career relies partly on them. even if it gets to a point where, like me, they're harming your wellbeing. it took me months of obsessively checking my social media and follower count and having panic attacks when i couldn't or my activity dropped, struggling to sleep and having anxiety attacks because i couldn't think of enough fun new content to share, struggling in classes and at work because my attention was elsewhere, and feeling despair to the point of having depressive episodes brought on by people saying hurtful things about me or criticizing me about things that weren't my fault and i couldn't control, before i even considered that i needed to do something about the parasocial hell i'd dug myself into. and i don't make a single cent. if i did, it would have been a lot harder. maybe even impossible.
this is really just a ramble with no conclusion but it just frustrates me and makes me really sad that parasocial relationships can cause so much lasting harm to people, both content creators and their fans, and there's not really any solution except seeking therapy one day and hopefully being able to heal from the damage. although i do think talking more openly about and spreading awareness of parasocial relationships would also help people find support and think more carefully about how they interact with people and consume content online (without ruining the fun!).
689 notes · View notes
mochegato · 3 years
Text
Even the Losers
Chapter 8
Chapter 1     Chapter 7
“Your father is Bruce Wayne and now he wants to reconnect,” Nino recapped as though anyone involved in the call was unaware. From the look Chloe gave him, he was particularly happy she was in New York not Paris and couldn’t actually smack him upside the head.
“Thank you for that waste of time and breath,” Chloe grumbled.
“I just… don’t see the problem.”  Nino did actually move away from Alya before she could swat him.  “What?  Your dad is Bruce freaking Wayne!  Even if you don’t connect with him, you can totally draw on that Wayne money.”
He wasn’t fast enough to move away from her smack that time.  “Ow!” he pouted at Alya.
“It’s not about the money!” Alya groaned, already exasperated by him.  “It’s about him not wanting to have a relationship until the press found out.  It’s about him cutting her out but taking in a gaggle of other kids.”  Nino lightly shoved Alya’s shoulder and motioned toward Marinette’s expression on the screen.  Alya grimaced and gave him a nod of understanding.
Marinette looked down and pursed her lips to keep from frowning.  It was bad enough thinking it in her own head constantly, but hearing it out loud, repeated back to her?  That made it so much worse.  That made her feelings real.  That legitimized her feelings.  She couldn’t pretend like she was just overreacting.  They were justified.  Which meant she couldn’t just freeze them out.  Or rather she shouldn’t.  She had to face them.
She focused her energy on not changing her body language so she didn’t worry Adrien any more than he was already.  Keeping her body relaxed instead of tensing up.  Adrien had gone into a frenzied panic when he and Max had returned from their apartment search to find her collapsed on the floor, blocking the door. She’d missed the worst of it according to what Tikki said, but she still remembered the terrified look in his eyes when she woke up.  He hadn’t left her side since, keeping constant physical contact.  
Max seemed to inherently understand the situation and was jumping up to get anything either of them might need so they didn’t have to abandon each other for even a few moments.  She was eternally grateful to him for it because she wasn’t sure who the physical proximity was having more of a calming effect on, her or Adrien, but regardless, they both needed it.  
Her attempt to not react didn’t seem to have been as effective as she thought it had been judging by the way Adrien hugged her closer to him.  Marinette lightly bonked her head into his chest and returned her attention to the laptop screen.  “It’s okay, Nino,” Marinette assured him weakly.
“No it isn’t,” Chloe said over her.  “Both of you need to stop talking.”  She flipped a page in her magazine and looked up at the screen.  “I mean, that’s true in general, but especially during this call.” Her eyes were sharp when she looked up but Marinette could see the concern she was trying to hide by focusing on her magazine.  She wasn’t sure what Adrien had told them about how he found her but she could tell it was enough to scare them too.
Marinette rolled her eyes at Chloe.  “Yes, it is.”
Chloe groaned.  “This is the way we work Dupain Cheng.  You and Adrien let people walk all over you, Nino keeps the peace, Alya starts trouble, and I tell people the truth and to back the fuck off when it’s warranted.”
“Which never starts trouble,” Alya snarked.
“I do not let people walk all over me!” Adrien objected, looking around for support. Marinette gave a curt nod of agreement, but Max was avoiding his eyes and Chloe was staring at him flatly.
“No, you don’t let people walk all over us,” she motioned toward the screen, trying to indicate the rest of them.  “But you let everyone walk all over you.”  Her eyes moved slightly and her eyes narrowed slightly.  “You both do.”
Marinette wrinkled her nose at the screen with a pout.  “I stood up to you,” she groused.
Chloe scoffed.  “And it only took you like ten years to do it.  So proud of you.”  She rolled her eyes so strongly, her entire head moved as she did it.
Marinette’s mouth dropped in offense.  “I’m better now.”
“Are you, though?  Really?” Chloe deadpanned.
Marinette pouted.  “Yes!”
“Statistically, she is accurate,” Max added.  “She does stand up for herself more now than when we were younger.”  Marinette pursed her lips at Max, unsure how to respond to his comment.  On one hand, it defended her.  On the other hand, she did not at all appreciate how he stressed the word ‘statistically’ and she was certain everyone else caught that as well.
Chloe opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by Nino. Marinette sighed in relief until she started processing his words.  “I get that it’s hard and it hurts, I guess I just thought you wouldn’t take it this hard. After Jagged with Luka and Juleka and your grandfather… you forgave all of them.  You helped Jagged with Luka and Juleka, making sure their relationship didn’t go bad.”  He motioned vaguely at nothing.  “You seemed to brush it off and take it as a challenge.  So why isn’t this?”
Alya dropped her head in her hands.  “Tact, Nino.  God.”
“No, he’s not wrong.”  Marinette frowned as she thought about his words.  “I went after Grand-père and convinced him to reconnect.  Papa never held it against him so I guess I didn’t either. Luka never held it against Jagged, just moved forward.  Maybe it’s just me.  Maybe…”
“No!” Adrien interrupted before she could follow that train of thought any further. He gently turned her toward him to focus her attention on him.  “There’s nothing wrong with you or how you’re reacting.  There’s no wrong way to react to news like this.  If you feel sad, that’s fine.  If you feel annoyed, that’s fine.  If you feel frustrated, that’s okay.  If you want to just move past it, there’s nothing wrong with that.  If you feel angry, that’s okay.  And if you feel like you need space, that’s okay too. There’s no wrong way to react to this,” he repeated.
“Except however Chloe would respond,” Alya added with a smirk.
“Hey!” Chloe objected loudly, glaring at the screen, but with no real heat behind it. “For the record, how I would respond to news like this is to spend all my new found father’s money, pressing my boundaries until he finally said something.  And if he didn’t say anything, I’d use those billions to do whatever the fuck I wanted and never see him in person.”
Marinette blinked at Chloe, as did the rest of the group.  That was certainly… an option.  Not one Marinette would ever choose, but it was…  Marinette started giggling at the idea.  Adrien joined her quickly while Max, Alya, and Nino watched them worriedly.  Chloe rolled her eyes and flipped the page in her magazine, but the corners of her lips quirked up.
“He is correct,” Max added, bringing them back to the original point.  “There are a variety of ways people will react to finding out they have a parent they didn’t know about.  Markov found hundreds of studies on psychological responses to similar news and responses are extremely varied.”
“Juleka had a harder time with accepting it and connecting to Jagged than Luka did, remember?” Adrien pointed out.  “And there’s nothing wrong with her.  She wasn’t wrong to react that way, right?”  Marinette shook her head reluctantly.  It wasn’t that she thought there was anything wrong with the way Juleka reacted, but in agreeing with Adrien’s observation, she would have to agree with his point that she was allowed to freak out about this instead of ignoring it like she wanted to.
“Marinette,” Alya raised her voice to bring attention back to her.  “You can do anything you want here and we’ll support you. You know that.  No matter how this ends we all love you.  No matter how you react, we’ll love you.  Nobody is going to judge you for any decision.”
Chloe scoffed.  She waited until everyone was looking, or in Alya and Adrien’s cases, glaring at her. “What?  You want me to lie to her?”  She looked incredulously at the other faces on the video call.  “We won’t judge.  Hell, I’m willing to scratch his eyes out in public for you.  But, your name was already getting out there and his name, now yours, is on the largest corporation in the world.  Every news and gossip organization is going to be talking about it forever if you guys don’t make a good show of it.”
“So?” Alya demanded incredulously.  “She should just do whatever is best for publicity?”
“Did I say that?” Chloe scoffed.  She finally put her magazine down to show how serious she was taking the conversation. “When have I ever let the threat of bad publicity stop me from doing something?  I just said it would be out there, not that she should care.  It’s a factor, a big one when she’s figuring out what she wants.”
“What do you want?” Adrien asked gently, turning his attention back to Marinette.
Marinette looked at Adrien for a few seconds while her brain whirred at high speed thinking through all the options.  What did she want?  None of this. That’s what she wanted.  After a few seconds she took a breath and let it out. “What I want is to not have to deal with any of this.  What I want is to not be his daughter.  What I want is to figure out where we want to live and work and start a company there like we planned.  What I want is to live a normal life now.”  She ignored Chloe’s scoff.  “What I want…” she sighed and looked away.  “What I want doesn’t matter.”
Chloe huffed almost loudly enough for it to echo.  “Of course it matters, it just doesn’t change the past or the current situation.  But, you control your next steps.  So Ladybug this bitch.  Some egomaniacal, rich, pampered megalomaniac has created an utterly ridiculous problem that you now have to fix.  This is your specialty.  Show this bastard who he walked out on.  Make him regret not dying with his parents.”
“Woah! What the Hell?” Nino exclaimed. “Too far.”
Chloe scoffed and looked back at her nails.  “If you think that was too far, you should have heard what I wanted to say.  I toned it way down for your sensitive ears,” she added condescendingly.  She just barely looked up when Marinette started giggling.  Chloe’s lips quirked up the more Marinette tried to stifle the slightly unhinged sounding giggles.
“Dude, that’s her grandparents…” Nino whisper shouted.  Marinette suddenly sobered and paled in realization.
“Or!” Adrien interjected with false excitement positioning himself between Marinette and the screen.  “Or, you could, you know, try to build a relationship with him.”  He looked decidedly away from the incredulous looks from Alya and Chloe and the doubtful look from Nino on screen, trying to pretend like they weren’t judging him.  He moved closer to Marinette and took her hands in his giving her a sincere, serious look.  “You have someone, your father, who wants to connect to you.”  
He ignored the loud scoff from the computer and continued as though Alya or Chloe, or both, hadn’t verbalized their opinion.  They clearly weren’t that opposed or they would have said it instead of making a noise.  He “accidentally” closed the video chat and gave Max a pointed look.  
Max nodded slowly.  “I’m just going to go to my room for a few minutes.  Let me know if you want to talk.”
Marinette and Adrien both shot him thankful smiles.  Adrien waited until his door was closed before looking back at Marinette with a concerned look.  “You got screwed in this deal.  Nobody can deny that, and however you feel, that’s real and valid.  It’s okay to be hurt.  It’s okay to be scared.  It’s okay to say this is too much for you right now, or ever.  But, do you really want to walk away?  Not connect to him?  Not try?”
“He didn’t want…” Marinette started weakly.
“Maybe he wasn’t ready,” he cut her off before she could spiral again.  “Maybe this is the universe’s way to saying it’s time. You got the embodiment of luck in your pocket.  Is it really so farfetched to think luck played a role?”
“Bad luck,” Marinette scoffed to the floor.  Adrien gently rapped her on the top of her head with his knuckle.  She looked back up and caught his unimpressed look. Marinette sighed and looked away before looking back up at him uncertainly.  “I don’t know…”
“Do you think you want to try?” Tikki asked floating out of her resting spot. “It’s your choice.  But I don’t think this is going away, so whichever decision you go with you’ll have to face the consequences.”
“Or I could just cataclysm him,” Plagg offered rubbing his paws together.  He darted away from Tikki before she could shut him up.
“No!” Marinette and Adrien chorused at the same time.
Adrien glared at Plagg but made sure to soften his eyes before looking back at Marinette.  “Okay, maybe things don’t work out with him.  But it sounds like you have siblings.  You already like Jason.  Maybe you’ll like them too.”  He gave her a small smile and rubbed her arms soothingly.  “You always wanted siblings.”
Marinette gave him a weak smile back.  “I don’t need siblings anymore.  I have you.  That’s more than enough.  I don’t think I could handle more of yous.”
Adrien scoffed good naturedly at her.  “If anything I’ve made having siblings more appealing.”
Marinette scoffed playfully.  “Keep telling yourself that,” she muttered.
He pulled her into a hug.  “You always wanted more.  And it sounds like you might have sisters.”
“More people he adopted after walking away,” Marinette groused into his shirt.
Adrien hugged her tighter.  “Maybe he had a reason?  Or maybe he just royally messed up.  Maybe he hates himself for the decision.  It’s something you won’t find out unless you stay.  And you can just talk once and see how you feel about it. If it doesn’t go well, you can walk away and we can find that bar Roy mentioned.  If it goes well, you can decide to stay or we can decide to move to New York or Metropolis, like we were thinking and you can still see him every so often.”
“Even if it doesn’t go perfectly,” Tikki added softly, “it’ll give you closure.  You deserve to have that.”
“And you’ll wonder what could have happened if you don’t,” Adrien nudged her gently.  “You know you’re going to regret not trying.”
“So is that an absolute no on the cataclysm idea,” Plagg popped up between them.  “Because I’m still willing.”
Marinette rolled her eyes at him but shot him a grateful smile.  It was as close as Plagg got to admitting he cared.  She scratched him on the forehead and looked back to Adrien with a frown.  “I don’t think I can handle this.”
“I’ll stay with you.  And Max will be here.  Tikki will be here for you.  Plagg will be here, but don’t let that deter you…”
“Hey!” Plagg pouted.
Adrien continued without acknowledging him.  “Chloe could be here in a few hours if we needed and she’d drop everything to get here, no matter what she says.  Alya and Nino will only be a phone call away.  We will support you no matter what you want to do. But we can’t make this decision for you, so, the question is what do you want to do?”
Marinette groaned and pouted at him.  “You sure you can’t do this for me?”
Adrien gave her a sympathetic look and shook his head. “Not this time, Bug.”  He waited a few minutes for her to think through her options.  When she looked just as lost after another few minutes after that, he spoke up gently. “Do you want to talk to Sabine and Tom first?  They might have some answers you need to make your decision.”
Marinette looked back up at him with a pathetic looking pout.  “Can’t I just sleep through this instead?”
Adrien chuckled and shook his head, relieved she was now in a light enough mood to make jokes.  “You could,” he nodded and put on a mock serious face, “but your problems will still be there when you woke up.”
“What bullshit,” she scoffed in a weak voice.
Adrien nodded.  “Yep, utter bullshit.”
Marinette kept eye contact with him for a few moments waiting for him to impart some kind of insightful wisdom upon her.  When he held silent and let her make her own decision, she whimpered and looked away.  “What if it isn’t him I cataclysm,” Plagg asked, flying between them.  “I could do it to his house instead… a few of his cars?  Rich people always have too many cars.”
Adrien grabbed him out of the air and shoved him in his pocket with an exasperated groan.  But Marinette giggled again.  When her laughter had settled, she took a deep breath and motioned toward her phone. Adrien smiled at her as he placed it in her hand.  She took a deep breath and pulled out the paper M. Wayne had given her.  She dialed one of the numbers before she could talk herself out of it, which knowing herself could happen if she was given more than a few seconds to think, and looked up to Adrien, letting his soft smile ground her.  “M. Wayne? It’s Marinette.  Would you be free for dinner tonight?”
Chapter 9
Tags:
@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone@ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark 
278 notes · View notes
dreamwritesimagines · 3 years
Text
Twisted 27 - When The War Comes [Spencer Reid x Reader]
A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, guns, knives, sharp objects, stabbing, hallucinations. 
Word Count: 7500
Summary: Who will you become?
Tumblr media
You had to control your anger. You had to control the fire in your veins until you were sure that your niece was safe, that your family was safe, then—
Then you would handle this situation. Until then, it had to wait.
All the training your father had given you was basically screaming at you to attack the threat, but you managed to keep yourself from doing so while you followed him through the woods, paying close attention to your surroundings.
The cabin. This was the way to your father’s cabin in the woods.
You had counted ten armed men on the way here but you had to assume there were more scattered along the woods. You stepped over a tree root before you looked up at the night sky and quickly found the stars that would help you. Thankfully it was a clear night, and your father had taught you long before how to read the sky for direction, in case you needed to-
Hunt.
A shudder went down your spine but you quickly shook your head, you had no time for that fear lurking in your head.
Fear could wait until you made sure you and everyone back home survived.
Considering how your family had no boundaries when it came to you, you were one hundred percent sure that by the time tonight was over, they would arrive at your apartment to see where you were.
“So what is your game here?” you moved your wrists that he had bound the moment you two had reached the end of the road and got off the car to walk into the woods, “You take me there and what? You’ll kill me?”
He looked over his shoulder, “How can you ask me that?” he said and you raised your brows.
“How can I not ask you that?”
At least you could leave a note. Lincoln was just that stupid.
“They’ll come looking for me,” you told him as he rolled his eyes, still pointing the gun at you.
“Who, your boyfriend?”
“He works in the FBI, you fu—“ you had to remember to stop yourself. He had access to Lily, so you knew you had to play it along, even if you barely felt anything other than anger. “Yeah. My boyfriend.”
“You broke up with him once, you can do it again,” he said and pointed at the pen and paper on the kitchen island, “Just write you need some time or whatever, he can see it when he gets here. Less suspicions.”
You grabbed the pen and paper, then clenched your teeth, your mind working nonstop.
“I’m waiting, Y/N.”
You stole a look at him, then leaned in to write on the paper;
Hamlet,
I need some time alone.
Ophelia.
Ophelia died in a lake, and you hoped that Spencer could make the connection between that and the time you had told him about Lincoln pushing you into the lake by the cabin.
He took a look at the note, then made a face.
“You call him Hamlet?” he said, shaking his head, “I never really liked that play. Let’s go.”
“Do you seriously think I would harm you, in any way?” he asked when you got to the stone stairs leading to the cabin, “I will explain everything once we sit down.”
“Will you untie me?”
“I’m not an idiot,” he answered as you climbed the stairs after him, his grip on your arm almost too tight and you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from coming up with a comeback. You looked up at the cabin, the memory of the last time you were there hitting you out of nowhere and churning your stomach, but you managed not to throw up as he slightly pushed you through the open door.
Don’t be scared, you commanded yourself in your head Fear is useless.
That was one of the things your father had taught you during those predator and prey games. Prey always got scared, which led them to panic, which led them to making mistakes that would cost them their lives.
You were a predator. You had always been a predator, since you were a child, and there was no fucking way Lincoln of all people could turn you into a prey.
He pulled a chair, then motioned at you to sit down.
“Remember, if you try anything…” he said, “If I don’t send the code to my friend—“
“Yeah, you’ll hurt my niece,” you spat, “Some man, aren’t you? Threatening a kid.”
He untied your hands, then pulled them behind the chair and started tying them again, and you raised your brows slightly.
Rather than wrapping the rope around your wrists separately then pulling them together, he was just tying them together, which was a terrible rookie mistake your father would never have done. Escaping from those, especially with a rope was almost easy with enough knowledge, and you slightly widened the gap between your wrists by pressing your thumbs together, not wide enough to make him suspicious but wide enough to give you enough space to move your wrists when you wanted to get rid of the ropes.
Almost everything was automatic at this point, you were following everything your father had made sure to engrave into your mind.
“There, that’s better,” he said and let out a breath, a small smile pulling at his lips, “Hi.”
You tilted your head, looking at him silently.
“That was a bluff by the way. I would never hurt anyone you love, I thought you knew that by now.”
That seemed to distract you from the fury, “What?”
“Everyone that I killed,” he pulled a seat for himself so that he could sit across from you and leaned in slightly, elbows on his knees, “Everyone, that was for you. I did it for you. Don’t you see that? From that childhood friend to your douchebag ex?”
Oh God you were going to be sick.
Spencer was right. You were sitting with the copycat killer back there, at the charity auction.
“I can’t believe you don’t remember,” he ran a hand through his hair, “You told me what was happening, when we were kids. You told me a week before that night in the graveyard, that’s how your father let me come with you both. My parents had drunk too much at your parents’ party— you don’t remember any of that? I was the one who you shared that sacred secret with, no one else, not even your family. It was me.”
“Sacred?” you repeated, “My father was a monster, Lincoln.”
“Don’t say that,” he shook his head, the glare in his eyes sharpening, “Never say that. He…he is way ahead of all of us, if he didn’t get caught he’d be an even bigger legend than he already is. He brought us together.”
“You brought me here by threatening me and you tied me to a chair. My father is a terrible person, but this right here is your choice you fucking asshole.”
“Because I need you to understand,” he nodded to himself, “You will understand.”
“I will understand what?”
“That I did this for us!” he snapped and he swallowed thickly, taking a deep breath, “That I love you.”
A hysterical laugh escaped from your lips and you gawked at him.
“You love me,” you repeated, “You— you have been terrorizing me for months, you killed people, you fucking destroyed my life because you love me?”
“I’ll set you free,” he said, “Free of all these bounds everyone else put you into. I’ve seen your potential back when we were still kids, then after your father was arrested they turned you into something else, some shadow of what you’re capable of. Then I came back and you…” he ran a hand over his face, “You decided to get into an agent’s bed.”
“Don’t even—“
“He would try to change you,” he cut you off, sniffling, “He would, Petal. He would smother you with these stupid ethical rules and all that bullshit, but I’ll— we’ll be free together.”
If your last encounter with your father had taught you anything, it was that delusional killers didn’t exactly react well to a reality check. You moved your hands under the ropes, pulling at them just a little.
You would just have to play along until you were free, then you could be out of there.
The more you know about your prey, your father’s voice echoed in your ears, The easier it will be to take them down.
“How about your girlfriend?”
His head shot up and he shrugged,
“I mean,” he trailed off, “She thinks she’s my girlfriend.”
You gritted your teeth. “Erica,” you said, “Right. My girlfriend doesn’t have the same financial status as we do, huh? My fucking assistant, Lincoln? What did you offer her?”
“Offer her?” he asked, “I didn’t have to offer her anything. Who did you think your father’s outside source was?”
You pulled back slightly and he scoffed a laugh.
“I know,” he said, “She wants to kill you, not that I would ever let her, but she can believe that for the time being. I know you feel betrayed honey—“
“Don’t call me that.”
“But we only need her until a point, after she makes a phone call to get your family off our backs, she will be my gift to you.”
You dug your fingernails into your palms to remind yourself to focus, “Your gift?”
“There’s nothing like killing someone you know,” he dragged the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, “It’s not like strangers, not at all. That shit’s special, Petal. You’ll see when the time comes.”
Before you could even think of an answer, you heard the footsteps coming closer and the door opened, making you turn your head to see Erica who almost looked intimidated for a moment upon seeing you, but she managed to pull herself together.
“You might want to check out the west team,” she told Lincoln and he paused.
“Can I trust you with this?”
Erica frowned, “You can trust me with anything, you know that,” she said softly and you closed your eyes for a moment, pulling at the ropes tight enough to hurt before you felt it get loose just a little. The rough material of the ropes almost burnt your skin the more you kept moving your hands, but you gritted your teeth, trying to ignore it.
You heard the door close and the lock sliding into its place as you opened your eyes, and saw Erica putting the key into her pocket.
“I like your dress,” she said as she sat down, “Too bad it’ll get bloody.”
“You were my father’s outside source?” you asked, trying to ignore her comment, “You?”
She gave you a bright smile, and rested her arm on the back of the chair, making herself comfortable.
“That’s right.”
“Whatever he’s paying you—“
“He’s not paying me,” she spat as if she was insulted at the implication, “You ungrateful little bitch. I’m doing this because I want to, because I respect him. I believe in what he stands for, not like you would understand.”
“Jesus, you’re one of those freaks,” you muttered to yourself, tugging at the ropes around your wrists, “Serial killer groupie huh?”
“I’m not a groupie,” she spat,  “I respect your father, not just any serial killer. It’s him. No one in your family deserves him, much less you, and—“ she shook her head, “The way you disrespect him and his name…”
“Disrespect him?” you let out a laugh, “Oh that’s rich.”
“He was right, you know?” she said, “Only the smart and strong is supposed to survive in this world, not weak. And he tried to raise you to follow in his footsteps, but you were too weak to do so. He just doesn’t see that.”
You clicked your tongue, “But you see that?”
“If he were my father,” she leaned in, gritting her teeth, “It doesn’t matter. By the time this is over, after I get rid of you and prove myself, he will see me as a daughter. Not you. You’re not strong enough to survive in our world. Lincoln agrees—“
“Lincoln is using you,” you cut her off, “He’s going to get rid of you as soon as he’s done. Let me guess, he told you you could kill me?”
“We’ll make you regret disrespecting father’s name first, then I will kill you, yes.”
“Yeah that’s not gonna happen,” you said, “Face it, you fucking idiot. He’s using you, just like my father is using—“ you didn’t get to finish your sentence when she lunged from her seat and slapped you across the face, her ring splitting your lip. You made a face, and spat out the blood filling your mouth, trying to ignore the sting on your tongue upon biting it.
“You know what?” she asked, “Lincoln always said no for some reason, but if you keep going like that, I can make you hurt really bad.”
“Aw sweetheart, you don’t have enough training for that,” you cooed, “What, you did some google search, looked up my father’s methods and now you think you can torture people? You think that’s how it goes?”
“I didn’t say it’d be physical,” she curled her lips, “You wouldn’t want your family to get hurt, do you?”
Your eyes snapped up to hers, that fire awakening at the pit of your stomach. She tilted her head, obviously pleased with your reaction.
“I suggested Lily instead of your ex….Anthony, was it? I said we should kill her and put her in the middle of your living room back then, but Linc said no. He said it’d hurt your father too.”
A numbness spread over your forehead, then went to the back of your head, reaching your spine as you blinked a couple of times.
“You were going to kill my niece?” you heard yourself ask and Erica crossed her legs.
“I bet that would’ve made you think twice before you disrespected John.”
You could almost feel it. Feel the fury taking over, that anger your father had always insisted you possessed roaring through you until it reached your heart, wrapping itself around it tighter and tighter.
Let the predator come out Petal, your father used to say Let it come out.
You rolled your shoulder back and cracked your neck with your eyes closed, an exact copy of your father as you twisted your hands under the ropes before you opened your eyes again to look at Erica.
“You don’t deserve him,” she insisted, “You all—you all just locked him away and forgot about him until Linc came back, until we started this. He will see soon that blood means nothing, me and Linc are going to be his legacy, not you.”
You tugged a little harder around the knot, then turned your wrist and managed to pull it out of the tight rope even if it scratched the skin over your wrists, making the burn spread over your arm.
“He taught you some stuff, big fucking deal,” she said, “I learned by myself. Without anyone to help me. Without someone else holding my hand.”
You clenched your fists, trying to ignore the throbbing as you slowly pulled your other hand out of the knotted rope.
“Yeah you missed a rule though,” you asked, dragging the tip of your tongue over the dried blood on your lip, “You’re not supposed to make them bleed unless you can kill them.”
Erica pulled her brows together, then a shriek escaped from her lips as soon as you let the rope fall, raising your hands in a mocking manner so that she could see.
“You chose the wrong victim, baby,” you said and she kicked the chair at you, then darted for upstairs, screaming while you just raised your brows, rolling your eyes.
Panic always led to mistakes like these, like rushing to somewhere one couldn’t escape from.
Upstairs was always a bad idea.
You made your way to the kitchen and pulled open the second drawer where your mother used to keep the knives, then grabbed a huge knife before you flipped it in your hand.
“Erica,” you called out, “Get back here, you’re fucking fired!”
She slammed a door upstairs and you scoffed a laugh, adrenaline pulsing through you as you dragged the tip of the knife over the walls, climbing the stairs.
“You know, if you give me the key I might make it quick,” you flipped the knife again, playing with it before you ran it over the steel staircase finial, letting her hear the sharp noise, “No promises though.”
Silence.
“I know you’re in here,” you sang, looking into the dark. Your father had taught you this long ago, if you couldn’t see, you had to make sure how to listen in the dark to find the location of whoever you wanted to hunt.
You took a deep breath and held it, not even moving a muscle and sure enough, a very faint creak reached your ears and you turned your head.
Second door to the left.
It used to be Mina’s room.
You let out a whistle echoing in the otherwise silent hall, disappearing into the dark before you stood in front of the door and ran the tip of the knife over the wood, almost relishing the slight whimper coming from the other side of the room.
“You were going to go after my family?” your voice rose as you kicked at the door, and Erica let out another scream.
“Lincoln!”
“Oh come on, where’s that strong survivor you’ve been telling me so much about?” you taunted, kicking at the door again but it didn’t open. “Hm? I thought you were going to prove yourself?”
“I-I swallowed the key, I can’t give it to you!”
“Ah well, I guess I’ll have to cut you open!” you shouted and kicked at the door once again and at last, the lock broke with a click and the door swung open, hitting the wall. Erica grabbed the chair closest to her, holding it up.
“Don’t!”
You flipped the knife in your hand, the grinned and took a step to her, so focused on adrenaline pulsing through your system that you didn’t even notice her eyes focusing on something over your shoulder until it was too late. Before you could even turn around, someone pulled you back, expertly avoiding the knife by bending your arm back and pressed a cloth over your mouth and nose, that sharp scent making you gag.
Chloroform.
Lincoln.
A tingling reached your head and that fuzzy warmth reached the back of your head, then closed your eyes shut.
                                                ***
You had no idea how long it took you out, but when you opened your eyes, it was still night. You grabbed at the side of your head and sat up in the bed, the whole room spinning around you.
Your childhood bedroom. You were in your childhood bedroom in the cabin.
“Hey,” Lincoln’s voice reached you and you turned your head to see him leaning on the doorframe.
Shit.
That was a mistake. Of course that was a mistake, and you couldn’t even believe yourself just how stupid you had been to act so careless.
“Easy, chloroform messes you up,” Lincoln said, “I’d stay in the bed for a while if I were you. You can’t attack anyone like this, you know?”
You weren’t supposed to follow your dad’s example in a situation like this. There was a reason why he was locked away, a reason why people had caught up with what he was doing, he was way too impulsive, way too destructive in terms of physical means. You had been so focused on protecting your family and going after the nearest threat that you had forgotten who you were.
You weren’t just your father’s daughter, you were also your mother’s.
And this right here? It wasn’t your father’s expertise yet, his time would come when you would have to fight your way out.
It was your mother’s.
Manipulation.
It was time to channel her, not your father.
“What happened?” you asked and Lincoln heaved a sigh, then pushed himself off the doorframe.
“You went after Erica,” he said, “She’s pretty shaken, but I told you Petal. You need to be patient, we just need her up to a point. After that, she’s all yours.”
You narrowed your eyes and slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, running a hand through your hair.
“And how much longer will I be subjected to this humiliation of yours? Can you give me an exact time or should I just wait here?”
He stared at you for a moment, trying to understand what you meant and you just arched a brow, a look of completely nonchalant sneer flashing over your face, the exact same expression you had seen on your mother countless times.
“I’ll take this silence as a no.”
“Humiliation?” he repeated, “When- how did I humiliate you?”
“How did you humiliate me?” you scoffed a laugh, “Are you serious right now?”
Jesus, your head was absolutely killing you but you had to focus.
“I’d never humiliate you, I love you.”
“Yeah yeah,” you waved a dismissive hand in the air, “You love me, we’re supposed to be together. I guess I’ll have to take your word for it while ignoring your actions, is that it?”
“My actions? Y/N—“
“So you bring me in here,” you cut him off, glaring at him, “You give me this whole speech about how you’d do anything for me, how we’re—we’re meant to be, and then you leave me in the same room with your ex so that she can boast about you? How you two are in love, how you two are together?”
“I told you, we just need her until—“
“That’s your love?” you interrupted him again and pushed yourself to stand up, crossing your arms while looking him dead in the eye, “Is that the proof of your love? Rubbing your girlfriend on my face? All the while she talks about how you two are going to be my father’s legacy together, like I don’t exist?”
“She just thinks that, I made her think that so that we can use her—“
“And then,” you said through your teeth, “You stop me and knock me out while I’m going after her to get rid of her?” you clapped your hands slowly, “Yeah. Proclamation of love right there Linc, congratulations.”
He licked his lips, obviously taking aback. “Y/N, we need her for now.”
“Mm hm, exactly,” you shot him a sweet smile “Looks like you need her a lot.”
“Not like that,” he shook his head, “Not what you think, I swear. She’s nothing.”
“No, I think she’s not nothing,” you clicked your tongue, “I think you formed some sort of attachment to your prey—“
“I didn’t!”
“Because you grew soft for her, and now you’re confused whether you want me more or her.”
He strode to you in three steps and pulled you closer, tilting your head up, and you had to command yourself not to make a face.
“I want you,” he said, “I always have, you know that.”
“Bullshit.”
He groaned, “Y/N-“
“No, it’s fucking bullshit.” You pushed his hands away, and searched your mind for the final nail on the coffin.
“Did you sleep with her?”
The expression on Lincoln’s face shifted and he averted his eyes.
Bingo.
“Did you? While you were in love with me, while you knew that we were meant to be, did you or did you not sleep with her?”
“You slept with that agent,” he shot back and you shook your head.
“I didn’t know you would do anything for me,” you insisted, “I had no idea—you said you had a girlfriend, I barely remember anything from my childhood let alone sharing so much with you and you didn’t tell me. But you knew,” you dug your finger into his chest, “You knew everything and you kept it hidden from me, so answer me this, did you sleep with her? While you knew you were in love with me?”
He swallowed thickly and opened his mouth, then closed it again, and you took a step back, trying to look heartbroken.
“Wow.”
“Y/N.”
“Wow. You actually did.”
“Listen to me, she doesn’t mean anything, I swear to you. It was just to manipulate—“
“Get out of my room.”
He frowned, “What?”
“Get the fuck out of my room and leave me alone until you’re ready to show me you actually love me.”
“You don’t mean that,” he started and took a step towards you, but you grabbed the nearest object which turned out to be one of your old dusty plushies and threw it to him.
“Get out!” you yelled and he took a step back, raising his hands.
“I’ll… I’ll come back when you’re calmer,” he said and closed the door behind him, and you lost your balance, falling on your knees.
People were just so easy to manipulate, thanks to your mother.
“Okay,” you whispered to yourself, “Thanks mom, time for dad’s turn.”
Weapons.
You reached under your bed to take a look at the secret compartment that your dad used to make you put your knives, but it was of course empty. Lincoln was stupid when it came to you, but he wasn’t a complete idiot, apparently. You pushed yourself off your knees and stood up, then closed your eyes and focused on your breathing, trying to clear your mind.
Your father had taught you this long before, in every room, there was something you could use as a weapon or turn into one.
You took a deep breath, exhaled it and opened your eyes.
It would have to be something precise, Lincoln had a point, you were in no shape to get into an actual fight with him. So you would need something sharp, and something that you could hide in either your sleeve or somewhere easily reachable. Something that Lincoln wouldn’t see until the next time.
You could tear down the bed to get to the bed springs, but it would take a long time and there was the danger of him walking in on you.
There was a chair and your post-its, some tape, small notebooks by the corner, hair ties and a music box on the desk in front of the window—
The music box.
The music box had a mirror.
“There you are,” you muttered to yourself as you took the music box, then grabbed the tape and your hair ties. You checked the door, then sat down, covered the mirror with the long skirt of your dress, then pushed on it with your elbow until you heard the small noise of the mirror breaking. You pulled back and uncovered it, then grabbed the longest shard, ripped out a couple of pages from your notebook and started taping it around the shard before you wrapped your hair ties around it so as not to let it slip or hurt your hand.
By the time you heard Lincoln’s footsteps coming upstairs, you had spent almost an hour preparing your weapon. You looked up, then closed the music box and put it back before tucking your newly made weapon under the lacy sleeve of your dress, and got on the bed, leaned your back to the bedframe and crossed your arms.
“Petal?” Lincoln called out and you gritted your teeth and turned your head when he peeked his head in.
“Hey, do you want to join me for some food downstairs?”
You narrowed your eyes, “Depends. Will your girlfriend be joining us?”
“I knocked her out and put her in your dad’s basement,” Lincoln said, “She will stay there until you feel like getting rid of her, and I won’t stand in your way this time. Okay?”
He offered you his hand and you eyed it, then pushed it away and managed to stand up on your own.
“Still dizzy?”
“A little,” you confessed, “Still angry too.”
Lincoln chuckled and heaved a sigh, “We need to talk about this jealousy of yours babe.”
You managed to control your expression and ignored him as you went downstairs. The rug was pulled to the side so that you could see the hidden door to the basement, but it was closed. You looked at the table in the middle of the living room that was covered in food, and there was a vase of jasmine flowers between the lit candles. You were still sure that you couldn’t engage in an actual fight until the chloroform was completely out of your system, but you didn’t have to worry about it since Lincoln seemed not to put any knives on the table. Your dad’s old vinyl was playing by the corner, the soothing melody creating a complete contrast with what was happening.
“A dance before dinner?” he asked you, “Come on. That dress needs to be used in a dance, don’t you think?”
You thought for a moment, then shrugged your shoulders and took his hand, then wrapped your arms around his neck as he pressed his hands to the small of your back, pulling you closer before you started swaying with the melody.
You just needed an exact time for him to lower his defenses completely, because you only had one shot at this.
Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.
“You have no idea how much I waited for this,” he said, “When I was in Italy, I would….dream of this at night.”
You didn’t answer, you just made sure to keep your wrist at an angle so that the mirror shard wouldn’t slip.
“And when I came back and saw you for the first time in that red gown…” he murmured, “I thought I would drop dead. You were even more beautiful than I pictured.”
“Why didn’t you tell me back then?” you asked absentmindedly and he shrugged.
“I didn’t know how you would react.”
“And all those people who died?”
“Some of them were diversion,” he said, “Some of them were chosen. I promised myself no one could make you sad, ever. I would’ve killed that agent too if he was the one to break up with you, but then you said it was your choice, and… I don’t know. I thought it’d raise suspicions.”
Spencer.
He had considered killing Spencer.
Goosebumps rose on your skin but you reminded yourself to stay calm and focus, you had already slipped once because of your anger, you wouldn’t get a second chance.
“What about Anthony?” you asked, “You killed him… was it to frame me?”
“God no,” he said, shaking his head, “Of course not. Erica thought it was revenge for how you were treating John, but I wanted to make you remember how it felt to be in the scene of your father’s doing, how….how powerful it made you feel. I thought that would make you see how everyone around you was trying to make you into something you’re not. Deep down, Y/N, you’re just like me. That’s why we will be legends.”
A bitter taste appeared at the back of your throat and you swallowed thickly.
“And my father?”
“He knew we were supposed to be together,” he said, “He knew you would need a…companion in this. Us, free together. That’s why your father failed, because he couldn’t share who he was with your mother. It won’t happen with us, ever.”
Stab the prey, twist the knife, pull it back and watch them bleed.
You moved your wrist so that the shard could slip low enough for you to hold it and Lincoln leaned in slightly, his eyes closing.
“I love you,” he whispered against your lips and you smiled.
“Oh Lincoln,” you murmured, your heart beating in your ears, “You should’ve known better.”
With that, you drove the shard right into his stomach, making him gasp and open his eyes. Betrayal was written all over his face, it was very clear he hadn’t expected it as you twisted the shard, making him lose his breath before you pulled it back, blood splashing over your face and your dress. You shoved him, making him lose his balance and fall down, taking the coffee table with him, causing some noise and as if on cue, Erica started screaming his name from the basement.
“Erica, shut up before I come down there and break your fucking neck!” you called out and the screaming stopped.
“Thank you,” you said and turned to grin at Lincoln who was breathing hard, his face pale.
“Y/N—“
“Oh don’t worry, you won’t die right away,” you said, “Dad taught me that one, ages ago. I stabbed you in the stomach, and it’s a pretty thin shard, so it’s not the blood loss that will kill you. It’ll be the toxic shock, because right now everything in your stomach including acid is contaminating your system. Should be fun, huh?”
“Why did you—“ he coughed, and you snapped your fingers.
“Hold that thought, I gotta get something from the kitchen,” you said and walked to the kitchen to open the drawers, then grabbed some knives and scissors before you want back to the living room, “Yeah, you were saying?”
“We’re meant to be,” he managed to say, trying to breathe and you hopped on the table before you cut the floor length skirt, ripping it out.
If you were going to run through the woods, you needed to be in something you could easily move and fight in.
“Nah we’re not,” you said, “You’re delusional, that’s it.”
“Petal—“
“See, I could’ve gone easy on you,” you said, wrapping the cloth around your injured wrist, “Really. I could’ve just escaped and handed you to the FBI and be done with it, but no. You two had to bring my family and Spencer into this so now,” you tut-tutted, “Now you get to suffer.”
“He doesn’t understand you,” he said, pressing on the wound and leaning his head back to the wall, “He never will, not like I do. We’re meant to get rid of every weak person in the world, everyone who deserves to die.”
You let out a laugh, now wrapping the cloth around your knuckles, “Uh huh.”
“You’re meant to be the legacy.”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just meant to be a wedding planner,” you pointed at him with the knife and walked to him to grab the key from his pocket, then you pulled his boots off his feet, took off your heels and started getting into his boots.
“Petal, we’re supposed to be together.”
“Because my insane sadistic father said so?”
“Because I know you.”
You looked up from the boots you were tying as tight as possible, “Hm? You know me?”
“I do.”
You put two of the knives in each boot and jumped down to rock on the balls of your feet, trying to see if you could move well.
“That’s your first mistake buddy,” you said, now wrapping the rope over your boots, “See if you knew me, you wouldn’t be so careless, would you? You took me here and what? You didn’t think I’d kill my way out? You didn’t think I’d turn you and your serial killer groupie partner into my prey?” You pulled at the rope, “Honestly, you two fucked with the wrong legacy.”
“I don’t—“
“My father raised me to be unstoppable,” you said, “And apparently you know that. So you should’ve considered that it’d take more than two copycats to take me down, and—“ a manic laughter escaped from your lips, “Did you seriously think you could beat me at my own fucking game?”
He coughed, making a face and closed his eyes.
“You have hours until you die, but if I make it out on time, maybe I’ll send some medics here. Maybe. Depends on if I feel merciful, who knows?” you grinned, “Your survival depends on my mood, isn’t that ironic?”
“There are ten men between here and your weekend house, you’d never make it out.”
“I’m not going north,” you said and Lincoln frowned.
“South? That’s just woods.”
“No, it’s a longer way than north, but there’s a road at the end. Dad once made me find my way through the woods.”
“You can’t leave me behind,” he coughed again, “We’re meant to be together. We’re meant to work together and kill together, that’s our love story.”
You pursed your lips, then grabbed a jasmine from the vase and walked towards him.
“Even if I wanted to follow in that monster’s footsteps,” you said, looking down at him, “Even if I wanted a companion, it wouldn’t be you. You’re fucking dead weight, Linc. You don’t have what it takes.”
With that, you let the flower drop on him, unlocked the door and stepped outside, the chill air filling your lungs. After looking around to see whether it was safe, you went to the back of the house, and looked up at the stars, calculating which way to go.
Then, you tied your hair up and started running.
                                             ***
As it turned out, Lincoln had fewer men on the south of the woods, but there were still people. You had gotten rid of two of them and tied them up with the rope you had taken with you, but it would take one mistake for them to drag you back to the cabin, so you couldn’t take any risks.
You heard the faint noise of a radio and looked over your shoulder, then climbed up to the nearest tree, keeping as silent as possible. The light of a flashlight soon lit up under you and a man came into your view.
“South number five is clear,” he said into the radio and as soon as he put it into his pocket, you jumped down silently, standing behind him for a moment before you smacked his head into the tree, making him pass out. You unwrapped a part of the rope and tied his hands and feet before you stuck the cloth around your arm into his mouth so that when he woke up he wouldn’t be able to ask for help. You let out a breath and walked deeper into the woods, but as soon as you jumped over a tree root, someone grabbed you by the hair and slammed you head first into the tree. A ringing echoed in your ears, getting louder and louder but you managed to pull the knife from your boot and drive it into his leg, making him grunt and you used your whole body weight to turn around with his arm around you, popping it out of its socket and he dropped you with a yelp, kicking you in the ribs and a fire spread from your ribs into your whole body, making you stop the scream at the last minute.
“You fucking bitch-“ he said but as soon as he grabbed you again, you managed to push yourself up and grab the rest of the rope you had left. You kicked him back and jumped on his back, wrapping the rope around his neck as he tried to get you off.
“I’m not killing you you fucking idiot!” you grit out as he slammed back into the tree to get you off, “I’m making you pass out, that’s all!”
Soon enough, he dropped to his knees and fell to the ground while you tried to catch your breath, but everything hurt. You wiped at the blood that was seeping from the cut on your forehead, drenching your face and your dress but managed to tie him up and get away from him.
It didn’t take you long though. It felt like the whole forest was spinning around you and you felt someone pulling the ground from under your feet before you fell back, your eyes closing.
You had no idea how long you stayed there unconscious but the unmistakable sound of a shot being fired made you open your eyes with a gasp as you winced at the pain pulsing through your whole body.
“It doesn’t sound so good.”
You slowly turned your head to see your father sitting by the tree, his arms crossed and you let out a groan.
“Is this hell?” you asked, “I just died and it’s hell, right? There’s no way I’m hallucinating about you.”
“You didn’t die yet,” your father said as he looked at the way the shot was fired. “I assume you didn’t search for Lincoln’s gun before you walked out of the cabin?”
“Lincoln can’t move,” you said and your father tut-tutted.
“Erica could move just fine the last you saw her though.”
“Shit.” You closed your eyes for a moment and your father heaved a sigh.
“So what do we have here?” he said, “Head injury, concussion, loss of blood, and that guy over there just broke a rib or two, right?”
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t stand a chance against someone coming at you with a gun when you’re like this.”
You swallowed thickly, your eyes burning.
“I can’t move,” you managed to say through your teeth, “It hurts.”
“Does it hurt enough to kill you? Because that’s what will happen if she and her men find you here.”
You tried to blink back the tears, “What if it’s supposed to end this way?”
“Supposed to end this way?” your father stood up and glared down at you, “Petal, I didn’t spend years to train you just so that you could die in a forest in the middle of nowhere. Get up.”
“Dad, I tried to survive, okay?” you said, “I tried—”
“Well, that’s not enough right now, is it though?” he asked and snapped his fingers, “You’re a survivor, your mother and I made sure of that. Stop acting like a prey, get up.”
“Dad-“
“Get up!” his voice shot through your head and you opened your eyes again, coughing, that ringing in your ears due to the pain blocking out everything but the gunshot that sounded much closer than before. You dug your fingernails into your palms and pulled yourself up by grabbing at the nearest tree, then wiped the blood off your face again.
“Okay,” you muttered to yourself, “Okay, Stop acting like a prey. Which way to go?”
You looked up at the night sky and found the star you were looking for before you started making your way through the forest, even if it felt like you could pass out any second. You had no idea how long you had been walking when all of a sudden the brightness of flashlight entered your vision, making you hold your breath and grab the handle of your knife tighter, thinking that it was Lincoln and Erica’s men.
It was only when you saw a very familiar face wearing an FBI vest that you let out the breath you were holding, the knife slipping from your grip.
“Spencer?” you rasped out and he just stared at you before he started running to you.
“You’re alive,” he managed to say before he pulled you into a tight hug, making you wince in pain. He pulled back immediately, his hands cradling your head.
“Are you—“
He didn’t get to finish that sentence. It happened in less than a second, but the sound of a gunshot that rang through the forest echoed in your ears before blood splattered over his face, making you stumble as if someone pushed you from behind.
“Why is there blood?” you managed to ask before a fire spread through your chest, taking your breath away and Spencer’s eyes widened as he lowered them to the gunshot wound bleeding on your chest. Everyone ran past you, yelling something into the radio and shooting their guns at someone behind you while the fire made its way through your whole system, the ringing in your ears getting worse.
The last thing you remembered was Spencer catching you before you hit the ground but whatever he was saying to you got drowned out in the loud noise of the helicopter flying above you. The lights of it got brighter and brighter before a warmth pulled you out of the pain and surrounded you.
Then everything went black.
Chapter 28
1K notes · View notes
happyselves · 3 years
Text
Pacify Him { Daniel Ricciardo x reader } /// WARNING EXPLICIT ///
Chapter : One shot Rating : Mature / Explicit / NSFW Words : 3,622 words
Tumblr media
“Pacify her, she is getting on my nerves, hold your bitch before I push her away. You’re free to bring anyone here as long as they are behaving, but her … I don’t judge the person you are seeing, obviously I could give two shits about it but please tell her to calm herself down … This isn’t professional.”
You were fuming as you entered Daniel’s driver room,as his PR assistante you never interfere in his frequentation, but when it was impacting the reputation of the team and bugging people visiting the motorhome you had to step him. You calm yourself after a few breaths, stepping aside from Daniel a bit before looking at him again.
“ I didn’t mean to come that hard on you Daniel, but please you know how this is important right. You always ask for my honest opinion and there it is, I didn’t mean it for it to step out this hard on you but I can’t apologize for my words when I was thinking about them. She is toxic for you, she brings the bad in you when you are someone adorable usually. What is happening to you that you don’t trust me enough anymore to tell me when something is going wrong ? And before you are shushing me off, you know I am right, you and I are a package deal. “
He was defeated, not even looking at you, his whole body was shutting down and his legs were giving up on him. He takes the closest seat near him, almost falling and barely able to sit gracefully like he used to do.
“ I don’t know … I am so lost, I keep doing stuff wrong, I can’t find my soul anymore, I’m not very myself recently, I can’t even find my smile being genuine in the morning when I wake up in the morning. I’m putting a mask for people to see, but I’m like an empty shell. This bitch as you call her is only here to distract me and try to make me feel alive. She is nothing and it was a mistake to bring her… “
You were very concerned about Daniel’s attitude, it was the first time since you have known him that he worries about you right now. You were kneeling in front of him, trying your best not to invade his personal space. It’s something new for you, not invading it, you never ever thought he needed one but he looked so fragile, then you were under the impression that if you were touching him he would vanish into dust.
“ You are scaring me, what’s happening, is it the team ? Something personal ? You know you can tell me everything … “ A long silence got installed, your eyes were starting to water by all the pain you were seeing in him. You thought he wouldn’t open up, he was shutting you out by the way his body was curling up and turning to avoid your gaze on him. He was protecting himself like a kid that was terrified of a big stormy night.
You wanted to be the one to reassure one, but you were practically sure you were part of the problem. You stand quietly, ready to leave him alone in his driver room because there was nothing you could do if he wasn’t letting you.
His reaction was imminent, the driver inside of him was popping up and his muscles memories acting for him as it was his turn to get up and close the space between you, shutting the opened door. You yelped out of surprise before feeling his pressing body against you. You were stuck between the wooden door and his warm torso. Feeling his heretic heartbeat pounding in his chest. You couldn’t speak, you were too shocked for that. You and him were friends, close friends but not that physically close. You never cross that boundaries, but today was different, you felt it was.
The seconds looked like hours waiting for the confirmation of your assumption. Daniel seems to be as surprised as you to have acted the way he did, it was too late to back away now.
“ Don’t leave … don’t walk out that door “ His forehead was now resting on the back of your head, slightly not to hurt you and put weight on it. You wanted to ignore all the fuzzy feelings flooding in your whole body, but you couldn’t. Having him so close to you awakens a deep feeling hidden in you. “ The bitch will go away I promise, I am sorry “
Why was he apologizing to you, he didn’t disappoint anyone, yet. You weren’t even mad, you learn better to not judge someone's fucked up attitude when you could recognize the coping mechanics of someone keeping a secret and trying to turn the attention away from himself for nobody to catch the true meaning behind these actions. Does that make it acceptable ? It was each individual to have their own opinion. It was annoying you, that Daniel was suffering but preferred to distract himself and run away from his problem instead of talking to you or anyone else.
You close your eyes, your own forehead finds the cold surface of the door, his own head following yours not breaking the contact. HIs hands find the side of your hip.
“ The bitch isn’t the problem isn’t it ? “ You asked without any certainty he will give you a proper answer to that. His thumbs were caressing the skin of your hips through the tissues of your teamwear shirt, drawing a circle. You were sure he didn’t even notice he was doing it, his body was only responding to one mood and it was the auto-pilot one.
You were searching for breath and the driver’s room was starting to get tighter by the meanings, you were about to suffocate if the situation in which you both were wasn’t going to change fast enough.
“ You are the only one that can take away my pain … “ It could pass for a simple sentence if it wasn’t so Daniel, you had learned the code of conduct of Daniel Ricciardo and that … that was a declaration. “ It was you and I before, remember ? “
You were missing a piece of puzzle here, what was he talking about, is he drunk ? You never act differently around him, nothing changes, it never does. Yes it was him and you, always have been.
“ What are you talking about Daniel, you are confusing me “
“ Why did it change, the two of us … “ He was responding to your question by another one, like he was having his own conversation in his head, you were tempted to let him speak his mind to discover the bottom of the problem.
“ It didn’t change Daniel … “ You were trying as much as you could to put everything together, in vain.
“ It did change, I can’t look at you the same way as before … “ There it was, a little clue. If only he knew that it has been a long time since you have been able to look at him the way he used to when you meet him the first time. It was more than annoying you that he had brought someone with him for the weekend, more than it should. You were fuming when you saw the unknown name on the list of guests and asked someone to lighten it for you.
“ I know you are lying, why would you react the way you just did before if you weren’t “ You wanted to look at him, but his body was still pressing you against the cold wood. You had so much to say and him as well, all this unspoken tension you both tried to make yourself believe was a liar. You were both frauds, your friendship switched into something more months ago after a drunk night. Nothing happened that night, only looks were exchanged. The battle you both had as a joke at first turned into something way more deeper than you both were expecting and when you both tried to pull out of it, the damage had been done. That night was an epiphany moment for you, awaking the true desire between you. Your bodies couldn’t lie, the need for them to touch, the flaming sensation of his skin against yours like it was happening right now. Everything happened before and since that night, it never was the same thing for Daniel and everything went downhill.
You move your hand, posting on the door and Daniel understands the message and detaches himself from you. You slowly turn, god he was a mess and you bet you weren’t better.
“ You bewitched me that night, seduced me with your eyes. It was a game at first and now look at us, where is the game now ? “ He wasn’t accusing you of anything, it was a simple statement, an understanding between you. Two people were playing the game and two people ended up losing.
“ That wasn’t my intention, I tried to pull away, it was too late “ Who sounds defeated now, the tables have turned and he brings you down with him to the bottom of his misery. A couple bruises on your heart that he created was all you needed to have the proof that at least you two had shared a moment. It had to stay professional, but as his face was closing up the gap, all your convictions were being erased one by one.
You didn’t wait for him, you joined him in the middle, your lips connected quicker than he had anticipated, your eyes shut down in synchronisation. You didn’t who reacted first and kissed the other one back. That lip was perfect, far from it, it was messy just like him, but it was passionate. His teeth were teasing your bottom lips, asking permission to tear the flesh of it apart. You moaned when his tongue was inviting you to open your mouth. The taste of your two saliva was so intoxicated that you almost fell and he had to catch you with both of his arms, supporting you from your lower back. His smile came back to life against your mouth, letting out a childish giggle and you hit his arm to make him stop making fun of your lack of stability.
HIs reaction was quick, if you couldn’t stand up anymore he would use that door to help you. He pushes you toward it and your back gets lean on it, his arms unlocking themselves to explore your body, finding where they were before except this style the hem of your shirt came loose, letting the palm of his hand directly enter in contact with your skin, sending you shivers.
You had forgotten your environnement, too busy burying your own hands in his dark curls, bringing him closer as much as possible. Your teeth were still clenching and air was starting to lack in your lounge. You didn’t want to let go, scared for the reality to be brought back. You have been dreaming for months about this. Having the fantasy in your head when the night was setting and the moon shining.
DSaniel didn’t let you think for another second as he used this little moment of rest when you stop kissing him for a second, to lift you up, grabbing your ass, his palm firmly around it. He moves you and remembered to lock the door before turning back his focus on you as he finally break the kiss to look at you. Lust could be seen all over your two faces. His face was not showing any sadness anymore, only mischievousness and happiness. If you knew that all you needed to do to bring back the Daniel you knew was to let your own desire take over you, you would have done it sooner.
He took the direction of the massage table beside him, putting you on the edge before finding your neck and kissing the soft skin. You let a snort escape when his scruff tickles a sensitive spot behind your ear. He laughs against the skin and the vibration changes the snort into a whining complaint. He traveled all the way down to your clavicle but the fabric of your shirt was stopping him. He didn’t wait for your approval to remove it, the force of the removal making you lift your arm automatically. They fall back on his neck when he throws the piece of tissue somewhere you will have a hard time finding back.
That was extremely hot from him and by your legs starting to spread a little bit and the heat you were starting to feel between them, he noticed acknowledge the effect he had on you and smirk, visibly proud of himself. It was not the time to hide yourself even if you could feel embarrassed, this man in front of you was everything you had dreamt of and it had the talent to make you feel confident of your body, just by the way he looks at every detail of your body.
You were eager to let him take the situation under his control and only his, not doing anything and just being the prize he was working on to have for so long. All the torment, the torture and the conviction he will never have you, he deserved it. You will get your prize another time … it was only the beginning for you.
He was taking his time with you,no matter how much his desire was waking up, he had one mission and one mission only; your pleasure. You could see the forming bulge in his pants and felt for him, imagining how inconfortable it must be for him.
It all went to dust when his hands found their way under your bra cupping your breast and his lips traveled your chest as he was kissing his way down. He was leaving wet kisses and blowing air on it, goosebumps started to appear quickly, head being jolted back.
You wish you knew what to do with your hands but they were gripping the leather of the massage table so hard your knuckles were getting white by the second. He didn’t seem to care as his hands found your pants, he pushed you a bit behind, making unspeakable demands for you to lift your ass so he could slide the piece of clothes down for it to join your shirt somewhere in the room.
You could barely keep your eyes open as you witnessed the extremely hot scene in front of you. Daniel between your legs, keeping the same pace with you, kissing his way up toward the inner of your thighs. You sensed his teeth nibbling your skin, licking every spot afterward, like he was trying to heal the pain he just caused you. Little did he know that pain you were feeling was arousing you even more, your panty was starting to visibly licked your excitement. It was feeling like torture, you thougth that Daniel would be like the others partner you had, your skin would get used to the touch after a moment and the horniness would stop at a certain level, thinking you had reach the maximal of his possibility. How wrong were you when you were on the verge to cum without him actually pleasuring you in this area. You knew it was coming, Daniel kisses were more hungry, teasing the flesh of your thigh turning red by the bite and the kisses.
His lips were swallowing, getting bigger by the unusual exercise they were carrying on, his tongue would feel numb if it was for the desire he had to taste you, letting it survive for a couple minutes still. You watch him, leaving a kiss on the wet fabric of your underwear, your eyes were blurrying by the anticipation of him finally finding your clit. His teeth end up moving the piece of dentelle that was the last barrier between you and him.
It was like he was home and belonged there, here with you, right in this instance, it was you and him against the world. Forgetting your environnement you let a cry escape a little bit too loud as soon his thick tongue was licking arousal. You thought that seeing the start was a legend, a fantasy, but Daniel had made you become reality as your head was banged back, finding the cold wall, your neck was stretching so hard that the blood was lacking in your brain making you see some sparkling spot. He needed you to stay quiet and as he tried to put one of his hands on your mouth he ended up finding the neck instead, squeezing it enough for you to moan his name as he was continuing his exploration of your pussy.
Your hands finally leave the grip of the massage table to find their new place around Daniel's arm. You were stretched out in front of him, so vulnerable, just for him and you were unable to give a proper reaction to being buried in the pleasure he was giving you. His tongue was teasing your entrance, making it hardening, pushing himself in you as you will. The thumb of his free hand was moving in a slow circle around your clit. He didn’t know the dilemma you were encountering, keeping your eyes shut and your head back or fighting his firm hand on your neck for you to see him eating you alive. You sure had to make a decision quickly because you were soon to arrive at the edge before you will let the orgasm consume your whole body.
By the sound you were making, Daniel had the confirmation he was doing everything in the right way for you. He never experienced such joy to make someone lose their composure due to his actions. He was feeling proud that he was finding it out with you. Every woman he had been with didn’t sound or look as beautiful and real as you spread in front of him right now. He could spend hours tasting you, how good you were for him, how reactive and sensitive your skin was becoming after being torn apart by him. How the thought of fucking you with his tongue had haunt his dream for the past couples of month now, but the reality of this was surpassing all his expectations. He wanted to be rough with you, all the dirty thoughts came back rushing into his brain, overwhelming him and sending twitch to his dick. Rather than being dominant, it was all about showing you how much he had wanted you and how willing he was to give you anything you wanted, because you deserved it. You deserved for him to make you forget every man you had sex with. Replacing all the bad and good memories with his own. Changing all the faces in your dream, planting his own in the own DNA of your imagination.
He could feel that you were holding it together for it to last longer, even if that meant losing the self-control you had in you. Your wall was tightening around his fat tongue. You were completely losing your mind at the foreword of sensation throwing at you at the same time. You were sure it was too much for one person and you could care less about the verbal explosion you might have in a couple of seconds. Daniel however, foreseeing your release, put two fingers in your mouth holding your jaw from your mouth, your lips closed themself around them and your tongue was soon relaxing on them. You bite his knuckles when his tongue replaces his thumb in one flick of the tongue, finally letting cum. Your legs were shaking and Daniel had to hold you for you not to hurt yourself, your eyes were rolling back as your orgasm hit you in small waves, sending you jolts of electricity around your body. Your brain was shutting down, the stifled moan never reaching the exterior of your mouth, dying down on Daniel’s fingers in sensual vibration that made his bulge react, begging to be taken care of.
It tooks you minutes to come back to the open world, Daniel’s eyes not leaving you for a second, admiring his work. You slowly come back to reality and automatically search for him, missing his touch already. Your eyes were still not open when you found the collar of his shirt and pulled him rather violently, crashing your lips together, taking a taste of your own juice still lingering on his lips. You sigh in the kiss, reassured that what just happened wasn’t just a dream and that you were far needing to wake up from it.You rest your forehead on his, the wave of pleasure was still leaving some after effects on you including dizziness.
You had to clear your throat as you realised no sound was coming it out the first time you tried to speak.
“ That bitch needs to go, tell her you replace her with a more living version. “
You couldn’t help but laugh at your own words and Daniel was smiling at the way you just described yourself.
“ She’s already gone, she was already gone before you burst into my room.
You didn’t know how to respond to that, but one thing for sure is that you will have a hard time making people outside of this room say that nothing happened between the two of you. At least you would not pissed them off and you were able to pacify him at any time.
MASTERLIST
206 notes · View notes
taeilskitty · 3 years
Note
Hii
I noticed your request is open
I'd like to request celibate doyoung smut with arranged marriage au!
Would appreciate it if you could add a lot of nipple play!
Thanks!
Thank you so much for the request!! I really enjoyed writing this so I hope it was good enough. Enjoy love <33
You hadn’t known Doyoung for long.
He was nice enough, he was respectful and pretty funny, good company too. It wasn’t such an issue that you were going to have to be together for, well, ever.
Forever is a long time. In all honesty you’d always dreaded your wedding day because you knew there was no chance of marrying someone you actually loved; that’s a fantasy you knew you’d just have to live out in your next life. But the first time you were introduced to your future husband, you realised that maybe, just maybe, you could make the most of it.
You weren’t best friends by any means, let alone lovers, but at least you were on the same boat. Both living with parents who had a plan since before you were even born, a prophecy they’d already written out for you. Whatever.
Maybe the knowledge of your fate was the reason for it, but you were never overly concerned with love. Of course you wanted it, but you’d learned to be your own person too. And that was great. Doyoung had once admitted that he was relieved about that; “I was worried you’d be disappointed,” he’d told you, “because I can’t do… any of that.”
It sort of warmed your heart. He was fairly open with you, and for that reason was sure not to cross any of your boundaries. You liked that about him. You could certainly get used to seeing his face everyday. And honestly it helped that he was… really fucking hot.
Your wedding was actually really nice, what with all things considered. You made the most of the celebrations and he seemed really calm as opposed to you who was frankly scared shitless. His family liked you, your family liked him, and most importantly you liked each other - or at the very least you tolerated each other.
“I can’t believe you’re my husband,” you laughed once it was all over. “Thank you for making the day a little less scary.”
“The pleasure’s all mine, Y/N. Honestly.”
You smiled at Doyoung and looked back out across the moonlit sky. It was proving to be an emotional night, a surreal one at that.
“Before we met I was scared you’d be some creep, like, a total weirdo.”
“You seriously think your parents would let someone treat their kid like shit?” Now he was the one laughing; you both knew your parents were a lot of things, but they’d never want to see you get hurt.
“Okay, fair,” you agreed, and turned back to face him. “I’m surprised they didn’t dump me with someone crazy ugly though.”
Doyoung smirked. “Oh?” His eyes darted away momentarily. “So you do like me. Huh.”
Something told you he was only half kidding, but the giddiness in your gut made you wonder if this was the feeling all the blockbuster romance movies tried to convey. You weren’t in love. But you sure were glad it was him next to you right then.
“Don’t get so cocky.” He gasped sarcastically in response to your playful rejection. “I’ll put up with you.”
“I give it a week before you’re head over heels in love with me.”
Standing up, he looked back sort of expectantly.
“You wish. I think you just want me to be in love with you.”
“You’re married to me,” Doyoung scoffed. “C’mon. Let’s head inside.”
You stood up and looked at him for a moment. He still had that glint in his eye that suggests something isn’t quite right, like he’s waiting for something.
His beauty is… almost unfair. There’s no way your parents’ taste in men was this good, especially when picking some guy out for you. It made no sense - how was he so attractive? You knew it wasn’t just the light because, let’s face it, anyone can see how hot he is.
You sighed, and you shook your head when he asked if something’s wrong.
Doyoung placed a hand on your shoulder. He seemed far more nervous than he did before, particularly when you stepped in just a little closer. He could practically feel your breath mixing with his; your lips almost brushing against each other.
“What?” You ask when he breaks eye contact. “Never kissed anyone before?”
“Actually, no…” He let out a nervous chuckle. “I wanted to wait till I was married. It just feels weird that now I am…”
You weren’t sure why this shocked you, but it kind of made sense. Of course he’d waited, he was so angelic. Not even necessarily innocent by any means, and honestly it wouldn’t have bothered you if he’d slept with 1 or 100 people before. But somehow this made him… cuter?
You vowed not to laugh. You wanted to, not because it was funny or anything, but because it was just kind of endearing. You smiled at him.
“That’s okay, I’m no expert at it.”
Doyoung was silent for a second, but he looked back down at you with confidence in his eyes.
“My parents made a good choice with you.”
The space between your lips finally closed.
-
Despite having no experience, Doyoung knew how to draw whines out of you and kiss you in a way that sent butterflies to your stomach. He tugged on your bottom lip and held you with just enough force to make you feel the perfect amount of helplessness. It came naturally. The kissing, the touching, the clothes coming off. He even took the time to admire your body. How the fuck did he get so perfect?
“You’re really gorgeous, Y/N…” he muttered against the skin of your neck, your hands wandering into his hair. “I’m so glad we found each other.”
“Mmh-” A gentle moan escaped you when he grazed his teeth over your sweet spot. “You’re - you’re so hot.”
Doyoung chuckled a little bit and lay back on your now-shared bed. You’d clambered on top of him nervously, adrenaline coursing through your body, excitement chasing after it. He couldn’t hide how hard he was, not in those boxers - and there was no way you could ignore how big his cock felt strained against you.
“I - are you okay with this?” He asked, pulling away for a moment. The look in his eyes was sincere.
You nod. “God yes.”
That’s when he pulls you back into the depths of his kisses and hisses when your hand tugs at his boxers. He’d waited so long for this moment, and it was happening with someone he couldn’t believe he was so lucky to marry. The pair of you were nervous of course, but the mutual understanding you had was enough. The fact that Doyoung had already asked if you were comfortable made you want him even more for some reason.
“Ride me,” he breathed. “Please.”
Doyoung’s cock felt so fucking good. It stretched you perfectly, which hurt a little more than you’d like to admit but the feeling of him inside you just felt… wow. He threw his head back as you moved on him slowly.
“God, fuck, keep doing that baby,” he moaned.
Baby. The pet name sounded incredible coming from him.
“Yes sir,” You mocked, but the way he cursed under his breath when you said that told you he was into it. “Oh you want me to call you that, don’t you?”
“Shut up.” He was blushing just a little, and brought your lips to his again. “Don’t try and tease me, I can’t take it. Not this time. Seriously.”
Something in Doyoung’s voice sounded desperate. You wanted to taunt him so badly, but despite the fact that he’d never done this before, it made you wince with pleasure to think of all the things he could do to you when you get more comfortable with sex. He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed up and down your collarbones, bucking his hips up into you. He mentioned how tight you were, how good you felt around his cock and how bad he wanted to cum in you. The rasp in his voice sent you reeling, and you tried to reply but when he took your nipple into his mouth you almost started crying with pleasure.
“F-fuck!!”
It was one of the most incredible sensations, his tongue lolling around the bud paired with his cock deep inside you. The way his teeth nipped against the sensitive skin was enough to make you both cum. You felt… amazing. Clenching around his cock, you dug your nails into his back and whined far louder than you intended; a hand began to play with your other hardened bud and sent your mind into oblivion.
“So good…” He moaned, kissing along the width of your chest to switch sides. The sudden cold air against your spit-sodden nipple made you shudder but the coolness was a part of what made it feel so much better. Doyoung’s tongue flicked and played with you to an unconscious rhythm played by the fingers opposite, not at all in tune with his hips now snapping against you but fuck it felt good. He sort of whimpered, not in a submissive way but in a way that sounded overwhelmed with pleasure. He was clearly enjoying what he was doing, his cock buried in your hole and his mouth on your chest; it was like he’d dreamt of this moment. He’d never admit that he had, not yet anyway, but the anticipation leading up to him finally getting to fuck was a lot for him. As for you… you were no stranger to fantasising. You’d wanted sex for a long time. It felt so much better than you could have hoped; it sure helped that Doyoung actually took the time to focus on how you felt too, but really you were perfectly happy grinding on his huge cock alone.
It slowly built up. The friction was unbearably good. The sensation of his mouth against your chest, his hand gripping your waist for dear life, his cock sliding in and out of you -
“Fuck, fuck--”
You came, hard, clenching and panting and grabbing fistfuls of his hair as you did so. “That’s it,” Doyoung breathed, “cum for me baby.”
You rode your orgasm out on him and tried so hard not to let your entire body jerk with each thrust he made after you came, until finally he followed suit. He moaned into your skin and god, he sounded perfect. The noises that came from the man’s mouth were nothing short of beautiful. This was heaven, or at the very least Earth’s closest replica to it.
“Ah,” he panted, still inside you, allowing the both of you to come down from your high. “Thank you, love…”
“No, thank you,” you laughed. “That - I didn’t think it would feel so good.”
The smug look on his face was pretty hard for him to hide. “Hah. Well. Me neither, to be honest.”
The two of you looked into each other’s eyes once more and you just felt so comfortable. A kiss came so naturally once again, and you realised that maybe, just maybe, spending the foreseeable future together wouldn’t be so bad.
You hadn’t known Doyoung for long.
But it would be a lie if you said you couldn’t see yourself falling for him.
121 notes · View notes
Note
Something else I haven't seen before. What would the MC's parent from each background think of the ROs? Who would they approve of and who wouldn't they? I guess in the case of orphan MC, what would E's parents think? Since they kinda maybe vaguely adopted orphan MC?
Hmm, interesting! Since I did the opposite, I should have seen this one coming haha
-----------------------
Storm's comments:
E: "Rose has had that expectation for some time. This is preferable to the alternative. I know you will be in good hands. Rose raised them well."
R: Your father doesn't mince his words, a clear disdain evident, "Valleford. See that you don't take after your father, or there will be less than pleasantries next time we meet."
L: "Scio. I assume your father...?" Storm's lips pull in a small frown as L gives a small nod of confirmation, "I understand if you cannot forgive me. Your father is a significant asset to the Hospian war effort. If I find him, I will kill him."
V: "You've seen enough at your age," Storm says quietly, looking into the hollow glint in V's eyes, "I'm sorry. Those were battles that should have ended with my generation, not yours."
P: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, "I assume your father is well? He does not speak of his second child often, but you seem more spirited than the other. That will make the greater difference when it matters."
M: Storm's brow furrows as he makes a cordial greeting, though there's little sentimentality in his voice, "I assume your father is well? He expresses confidence in your upbringing, but I can't say I share the sentiment. You lack something fundamental. Something to drive you to achieve more than what's expected of you."
Ra: Storm's eyes lock onto Raven with a harsh intensity, "Your eyes are filled with blood and you conceal weapons. Tell me your intentions or I will kill you right now."
S: "I admit I am unfamiliar with Orden. The conflict never reached that country, but I understand there are many hardships there already," Storm says, looking the brightly grinning student up and down before his lips pull back in small contentment, "You come out better than most. You have impressive strength."
F: Storm holds a frown as he takes in the vivid green hair, "Many allowed Frenza to claim their distance due to their significant contribution to Triaina's independence, but it doesn't absolve you of everything," he says in warning, "Don't step over the boundaries you've been afforded, or the military will have no choice but to respond."
------------------------------
Scurra's dialogue:
E: Scurra makes a grimace as he recognizes E, "Damnit, you've gone and done it now," he grumbles as he pulls out his wallet and hands a fold of bills to E, "Give that to your mom, will you? She's worse than a debt collector with bets..."
R: "Valleford! There's a name I haven't heard in a while. I knew they had a black sheep in the family, but I guess they couldn't take away the infamous good looks," Scurra chuckles, his eyes lightening reminiscently, "They've put me in a good bit of trouble on more than one occasion. I guess I should consider it a family curse now that MC is involved with you."
L: "Oh, I know those eyes," Scurra says wistfully, "Coming to find the world is a bigger place than you imagined, aren't you? It's even more expansive than that, too. I had that same look when I traveled overseas. I hope MC is being a good guide for you," he looks to you, and gives a knowing wink.
V: Scurra gives a meandering hum as he looks at V, "I've been all around, but I've only seen natural hair color like that a handful of times. They all had your same stare, too." He closes his eyes thoughtfully, "None as young as you though. I hope you're the last I have to see with those eyes. They're a bad omen."
P: "A fiery one, aren't you! Has no one ever told you not to say bad words in public?" Scurra laughs, "You should stop while you can. You're so transparent with your feelings that I almost mistook you for a window, so there's no point to pulling a tough act."
M: A small, genuine smile rises on Scurra's lips as he inspects M, "How interesting. You're so similar to your twin, but you're definitely the better actor. As I think about it, you remind me of MC's mother in many ways..."
Ra: "What are you doing here?" Scurra frowns, staring harshly at Raven. A silence passes and eventually he looks away, messaging his jaw, "Oops, guess I was mistaken. You looked a little like someone I know."
S: "You've got Orden written all over you, don't you?" Scurra says cheerily, "It's been a while since I've visited, but I have to say it gave me the most enjoyment. You all certainly know how to keep it lively."
F: "Your family has always been so hauty!" Scurra covers his mouth to suppress a chuckle, "But I think it would be a mistake to talk down to everyone you meet. I happen to be on great terms with your mother. If I took the opportunity, you two would have been siblings!"
------------------------
Xero's insight:
E: He smiles warmly to E, "It's good to see you again. I'm afraid there was little I could do for you: your mother has already found out about your relationship. I expect she'll make it as embarrassing for you as possible, if I know her well. I hope you're mentally prepared."
R: Xero studies R with a faint curiosity, "I'm afraid your father and I are on less than speaking terms due to some...past difficulties, but I understand you are more than simply your father's child. You may be villianized for your differing viewpoint, but aren't we all? I don't find it is so bad," Xero gives R a knowing small."
L: Xero's eyes widen upon seeing L, then falls into a soft smile, "To think history would repeat so aptly. To see you two now reminds me of my own school days," Xero closes his eyes and releases a light sigh, the smile still present, "I pray you'll also find the same happiness I did, and that it lasts longer."
V: Xero's grip tightens on an file in his hands as he sees V, his voice meticulous, "You are...Wolfe, correct? I'll admit the what I've heard and read of you is...less than appealing, but," he casts his gaze between you and the ex-Jagd member, a faint smile growing on his lips as V steps cautiously between you. "You seem to have a strong sense of duty. I hope you will be a good pillar for MC."
P: He looks disaprovingly, "In my field, words are paired with intention. To speak is to lay bare your thoughts. Why would you neglect your intent by forcing a negative connotation where it doesn't belong?"
M: He seems slightly more on edge than with P, "I don't believe I should offer my approval to someone unwilling to determine a focus. It's a testament to your negligence."
Ra: Xero crosses their arms, his face skeptical,"Marriage? Your lack of detailed forethought and hyperfixation gives me the impression of an unhealthy mind. As it stands now, I will refuse to give you my blessing."
S: "I'm afraid I'm ignorant to everything Orden related," Xero says sheepishly, "I am happy to learn all that I can, though. Perhaps you would like to bring your family at some point? I would be happy to host them here." Xero smiles warmly, clearly unknowing of the chaotic rabblerousing he's invited into his home.
F: "Ah, the royal line," Xero says in recognition of F, "Your own mother was a classmate of mine as well. To think one of her children would grow so closely with mine. Please give her my regards, would you? She has always kept herself closer than others, so I was happy when she took an interest in my friend. He's a lucky man."
---------------------
Mr. Razor's thoughts (if he was alive)
E: He bows his head gratefully, "Thank you for taking care of MC all this time. Your selflessness has saved me a lot of worry, and I doubt I'll have any more leaving them in your hands."
R: Razor's eyes bore a hole through R, "To defy your father was a considerable risk. And not knowing what the academy had planned for you, you still allowed yourself to be incarcerated for an indeterminate amount of time," Razor taps his fingers to his chin, a smile spreading over his lips, "I enjoy those that stick to their principles, but what say we work on your jailbreaking?"
L: "Your father's quite an important man. He's lucky I was never contracted to kill him," Razor says matter-of-factly. A chilling air of silence deafens the room until Razor holds up his palms, "Just kidding. I've never killed anyone. They all died mysteriously."
V: "How's Jagd doing?" Razor narrows his eyes keenly on V, "I'm surprised they were able to bounce back after what I did to them. I guess they filled the empty spaces with whoever was able...or moldable."
P: Razor smiles sadly, "It must be difficult to be given another person's expectations and do well with them. You're like a fish trying to climb a tree. But I enjoy how far up you've climbed despite that. Would you like a reward? I know, how about...your father's weakness?"
M: Razor seems disinterested, "You're not worth the words, Crater. You're nothing more than what your father made you to be: a simple shadow to live vicariously through."
Ra: Razor's eyes have an approving glint, "The one that slipped through the cracks. How very odd. MC's mother was quite odd too. It's an endearing quality, isn't it? Yes, I think you'll make a perfect companion for MC. You've already been looking over them all this time, haven't you?"
S: "Earnestness is one of the first qualities people tend to throw away when faced with hardship. It is impressive to see how you've progressed through your poverty and discrimination so aptly. Perhaps you have a hope that things will get better?" Razor's mouth spreads in a wicked smile, "I do enjoy seeing how people struggle for such a small glimmer of light. I think I'll offer my aid."
F: "Ah, it's always cute to see people play at royalty," Razor smiles at F's exasperated face, "Why do you seem so angry? Do you actually believe your position has meaning? I'll assure you it doesn't," Razor casts a darkening stare towards the royal, "To me, you're no harder to kill than a beggar on the street. The power you attempt to flaunt means nothing, because in the end it does nothing to elevate you beyond a simple street urchin."
----------------------
End
Thank ya for the ask!
196 notes · View notes
the-scandalorian · 3 years
Text
Tempered Glass: Chapter 3
Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.3k Warnings: slow burn, canon rewrite, canon-typical violence, cursing Summary: You and Mando choose Sorgan as your place to lay low, only to get wrangled into a risky job. Notes: In my head, Cara Dune is Katy O’Brian.. Yes, I’m ignoring the fact that she plays one of Moff Gideon’s officers lol Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme​​ @beskarhearts​​ @dincrypt​​ @honey-hi​​ @just-me-and-my-obsessions00​​ @red-leaders​​ @zoemariefit​​
Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter​
Tumblr media
Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian
The three of you sat in the cockpit—Mando piloting the ship, you in the copilot seat behind him, and the kid perched on the console. He had slipped out of his own seat, waddled to the front of the cockpit, and managed to grasp the edge of the console with his tiny hands and scrabble his legs against the front of it to shimmy all the way up there. Honestly, it was an impressive feat for such a small being. Mando pretended not to notice, keeping his visor trained on the viewport.
You’d been sitting in silence for a while, watching the stars streak by. It was a fairly comfortable silence, considering you were complete strangers and still trying to feel out the limits of your tenuous alliance.
Looking at the back of Mando’s helmet, the surface of which reflected the bands of hyperspace that surged around the Crest, you thought again about how challenging it was to read him: there was so little to go on. No facial expressions, no significant looks, and very few gestures—even the cadence of his breathing was largely disguised by the helmet and modulator.
That was definitely part of his appeal: the mystery. He was an almost blank canvass where others were open books. Because your survival had hinged on your ability to read people, you had gotten so good at it that the task lost its fun rather quickly. Mando was an interesting new game.
In some ways, the armor forced the Mandalorian to be much more straightforward. Because it obscured his features, he had to ask for what he wanted outright—unless it was from a bounty. He could easily communicate threat with just his stance. Anything else, though, he had to verbalize. You were interested to see how this would play out in his interactions with you. You weren’t a job or his enemy, and you were really hoping that meant he’d eventually be slightly less withholding with you.
The baby, looking around, cooed quietly and reached over to flick a random switch on the panel to his right. Mando disregarded the action, pressing a few buttons in front of him. You stifled a chuckle.
The kid, clearly testing his boundaries, leaned over to flick another switch. It turned green when he activated it, and the sound of a machine whirring kicked in.
“Stop touching things,” snapped Mando, frustrated, turning to look at him. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face, grateful that Mando couldn’t see you.
The child lowered his ears and trilled sadly in response to the admonishment but recovered quickly: his ears pricked back up, and keeping his eyes trained on Mando in what seemed like a purposeful act of open rebellion, he leaned over slowly to flick yet another switch. This one turned red, and the ship rattled in response. You let out a sharp bark of laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth to smother the rest of your reaction.
This time, Mando pushed one large gloved hand past the baby to deactivate the switch and picked him up to set him on his lap. You smiled again, knowing this was likely what the kid was trying to achieve anyways. He wanted attention.
“Do you know his name?” you asked. You assumed he didn’t because he always called him “the kid”...but it also wouldn’t be a surprise if Mando did know his name and just chose to call him that instead.
“No,” he replied. “You ready to pick a planet?” Mando changed the subject abruptly as he reclined to look at you over his shoulder.
“Sure,” you agreed, standing to lean over the back of his chair so you could see the screen in front of him.
After some discussion and research, toggling through the nearby planets on the nav, you decided on Sorgan as your place to lay low. It was a rural planet, sparsely inhabited and undeveloped. Mando described it as “a real backwater skughole.” But there were some small settlements, so there would be food and fuel.
Your stomach gurgled loudly.
“I’m going to go eat,” you said, standing to leave the cockpit.
Mando, still holding the baby, stood to follow.
You moved toward the door just as Mando did the same, both attempting to walk through it together. He paused and stepped back, pressing himself against the wall as far as he could to let you by, gesturing you forward with his free hand.
Without thinking, you touched his arm lightly as you slipped past him in the tight doorway, and he flinched away, wrenching his arm back. You withdrew your hand quickly and looked up at him.
“Sorry,” he explained gruffly, visor tilted down at you. “Reflex.”
“I get it.”
He twitched his hand forward like he was considering reaching for you then decided against it, clenching it into a fist by his side.
You stood in the confined space for a moment, pinned by the mesmerizing void of his visor. Inches from your chest, he was so tall and imposing, somehow equally menacing and alluring as he towered over you. It was hard to ignore his intoxicating magnetism when you were this close to him.
He cocked his head the tiniest bit, and you realized, with a rush of embarrassment, that he was waiting for you to move.
Flustered, you turned and climbed down the ladder to find your pack. Mando followed and sat across the hull from you, after settling the kid into a makeshift crib—a storage box lined with blankets—on the floor beside his feet. He busied himself adjusting something on the complicated armor that covered his forearm, as you ate one of your ration packs.
You studied him as he worked. As far as you could tell—with the glaring exception of the presence of the child—Mando was the definition of a bounty hunter. He worked alone, and all he did was work.
He was clearly not used to casual, nonthreatening human contact, aside from that of the child.
You felt a deep, cutting sadness when you really pondered the solitude of his existence. The bulk of his interactions were violent confrontations. He had the child, but for how long? He seemed a recent acquisition. Did Mando have friends? When was the last time he felt at ease around another adult person?
When was the last time someone touched him, other than a bounty during a fight?
You’d been on the run for years and, at times, it had almost killed you—not the running itself, but the loneliness. No matter how much time you had to adjust, it remained a draining existence. You maintained only loose contacts and casual, fleeting relationships. How long had his life been exactly the same? Decades? Had he ever known anything different?
You looked down at the baby. The presence of the child spoke to the possibility that he at least wanted something different for himself.
The kid seemed to feel your gaze and turned his head to train his huge eyes on you. You smiled at him. He grabbed the edge of the box with his tiny three-fingered hands to haul himself over the side and toddled his way over to where you sat. He hugged your calf, looking up at you expectantly.
Mando was busy fiddling with the controls on his vambrace and didn’t notice.
“Can I?” You gestured down at the kid. Mando’s head flicked up.
“I guess,” he acquiesced hesitantly. He watched as you reached down to pick up the kid.
The baby settled happily into your lap, looking up to reach a hand toward your face. You met his hand with your own, and he was content to latch his little fingers around your much larger one and sit back. He babbled and wiggled the tiny green toes that poked out of the bottom of his outfit, which appeared to be made out of the altered sleeve of an old beige flight jacket.
Despite the fact that the child was more than happy cuddled in your arms, Mando was visibly uncomfortable. Abandoning his task completely, he sat forward with his elbows propped on his knees and watched you tensely.
He didn’t relax until you set the baby back down, turning him toward Mando, and he toddled his way back across the floor. Mando took the kid with him into his bunk when he disappeared to eat.
***
From the ship, Sorgan looked inviting: lush greens and blues, the landscape broken up by winding rivers. Clouds swirled across the atmosphere. Mando touched the Razor Crest down in a clearing of a pristine forest.
Mando wasn’t about to leave you behind with the kid—or with the ship, for that matter—so he informed you that the two of you would set out to the nearest village to find lodging, and he would leave the child behind. You understood that he didn’t have a lot of options, but leaving a toddler alone on a ship seemed like a terrible idea. You decided not to question it for the moment.
It was abundantly clear that Mando was accustomed to running the show and operating alone. He was used to making unilateral decisions...and that was going to have to change if the two of you were ever going to get to a place of easy coexistence. As someone who was also used to making unilateral decisions, you didn’t take well to being told what to do without even being consulted. You figured you’d give him some time to adjust to your presence before bringing this to his attention. You reminded yourself that this was a temporary arrangement.
Before leaving, Mando gave the baby a very serious, very stern talking-to about not touching anything and staying put. This was another instance that made it clear that he hadn’t been in charge of this kid (or any kid) for very long. You tried your best to conceal your amusement while Mando lectured the child. When he started to wag his finger dramatically to punctuate his points, you coughed to cover a laugh that escaped your lips.
As you both gathered what you needed in the hull, you asked, “How effective are your lectures usually?”
He let out a tired sigh, shoulders dropping slightly: “Not very.”
You laughed.
Sure enough, the baby shuffled up behind the two of you as the ramp of the ship lowered.
Mando looked down and sighed heavily.
“Oh, what the hell? Come on.” He strode forward decisively without a backwards glance.
You bent down to scoop up the child, not sure how Mando expected this tiny creature to keep up with his long strides, and followed Mando into the verdant forest.
***
The village was made up of a collection of circular wooden structures with pointed roofs. You ducked after Mando into the public house, the largest building in the small cluster. Good-natured conversation and the smell of something delicious permeated the air. You set the baby down on the floor to walk beside you.
A lothcat curled underneath a table hissed loudly at him as he waddled by, and he cowered in fear. You scowled at Mando, who didn’t react besides tilting his helmet down, and picked the child back up, patting him lightly.
“It’s okay, buddy,” you murmured reassuringly. Mando paused to watch you comfort the kid. You waited for him to pull the baby from your arms or say something to discourage you, but he didn’t. When you looked up at him, he continued forward to find an empty table.
Mando scanned the room carefully as he strode between the tables. You noticed an intimidating woman surveying him as he passed. You seated yourselves, and a woman in an apron approached with a friendly smile on her face.
“Welcome, travelers. Can I interest you in anything?”
“Bone broth for the little one,” requested Mando. Then he turned to look at you.
“One for me too, please.”
“Very well,” replied the woman.
Jerking his head towards the intimidating woman, Mando asked, “That one, over there—when did she arrive?”
The woman hesitated, and then said, “Uh, I’ve seen her here for the last week or so.”
“What’s her business here?”
You studied the woman in question, noting her piecemeal armor and tattoos. She looked like a war-hardened soldier.
“Oh, well there’s not much business in Sorgan, so I can’t say,” the server responded noncommittally. “She doesn’t strike me as a log runner.”
Mando reached into his belt and threw some credits toward her on the table. She brightened.
“Well, thank you, sir. I will get those broths to you as soon as possible, and I will throw in a flagon of spotchka for good measure. I will be right back with that.”
The server left, and the unobstructed view revealed that the woman he’d been asking about had disappeared.
Mando stood quickly.
“Stay with the kid?” he asked, looking down at you.
You hummed your assent, but he watched you for a long moment, as if assessing whether or not this was a safe idea. He was weighing the risk of leaving the kid with you against the risk of not neutralizing the possible threat of this stranger.
“I’m not going anywhere. We agreed to stick together for the time being, remember? Relax,” you assured him. It wasn’t much of a commitment, but what else could you say?
He nodded decisively and turned on his heel.
You and the kid watched him leave. The baby made a small whimpering sound as Mando disappeared through the curtain that hung over the exit.
You considered the baby as you waited for your food. He looked around, curiously taking in his surroundings.
What species is he? You’d never encountered anyone like him. Despite the fact that he was clearly a toddler, he looked a bit like an old man. And a tortoise? And maybe a frog? Whatever he looked like, he was really damn cute. Those big eyes and huge, expressive ears were undeniably adorable. You’d never felt a maternal instinct in your life, but in that moment, you wanted to pick him up and snuggle him again. You resisted the urge.
The server returned with two steaming bowls of broth and a flagon of electric blue liquor. The child immediately reached out for the broth, letting out a string of gibberish.
“It’s too hot. Let’s let it cool.”
He narrowed his eyes at you and let out a disapproving huff.
Despite his protests, you waited until the broth cooled a bit before setting it in front of him. He picked up the bowl and slurped happily.
You didn’t start to worry about Mando until you’d finished your own broth and the drink—you’d figured Mando wasn’t about to drink spotchka—and he still hadn’t come back. You scooped up the kid, who was still holding his little wooden bowl of soup, and slipped out the exit to look for Mando.
The loud sounds of a brawl made it easy to locate him.
He was locked in an intense hand-to-hand fight with the woman. They were both on the ground, Mando on top of her briefly until she used her strong legs to launch him over her body onto his back. He landed with a thud.
Ouch.
You set the baby down on the ground, but neither Mando nor the woman noticed. The two of them seemed fairly equally matched. To be safe, though, you eased your blaster out of its holster and held it loosely by your side.
Before you’d decided whether or not to intervene, the fight ended in a stalemate, both of them flat on their backs, having drawn their blasters simultaneously.
They panted on the ground, until Mando lolled his head to the side and saw you and the kid watching them, the baby slurping his broth loudly.
“You want some soup?” Mando deadpanned, looking up at the woman. You let out a sharp laugh at the unexpected question.
The tension dissolved, and they both brought their blasters back down to their sides.
You sheathed your blaster and offered Mando a hand, and—to your surprise—he took it without hesitation.
“Thanks for jumping in to help,” Mando grunted as he got to his feet slowly and dropped your hand to dust himself off.
“Hey, I was ready to step in,” you held out your blaster pointedly. “I probably wouldn’t have let her kill you.”
The woman chuckled as she straightened up then turned to walk back to the public house.
“Good to know,” retorted Mando, fixing you with an exasperated head tilt.
***
The four of you sat down together and talked for a while, sipping broth. Mando introduced himself to the woman, ignoring you and the kid. His manners seemed to come and go.
The woman shared that her name was Cara Dune.
“And who is this?” Cara inquired, eyebrows raised, looking from you and the baby to Mando.
Interested to hear how he’d explain your presence, you waited to see what Mando would say before answering.
“Long story,” replied Mando. Yep, that seems about right.
You introduced yourself, offering a fake name and sticking out a hand to shake Cara’s hand.
Mando’s head snapped to you: “You didn’t tell me your name.”
“You never asked,” you shrugged.
If Cara was confused that Mando didn’t know your name, she didn’t say anything about it. She shared that she had been a shock trooper in the Alliance, but she was trying to make a new life for herself, away from all that.
When she inquired, you shared a carefully curated set of details about yourself: born on Naboo, studied on Coruscant, now a freelance programmer with a diverse set of clientele and therefore stayed off the grid as a rule, with Mando at the moment to get from one place to the next and find more work—Sorgan was a temporary stopover.
You figured Mando didn’t love the idea of being described as a glorified taxi service, but it was better than disclosing the truth.
Mando leaned forward slightly and fixed you with his unwavering gaze while you spoke but questioned nothing. You knew he likely recognized the gaping holes in your story, considering he’d witnessed firsthand how well you could hold your own in a fight.
He shared little about himself, aside from the fact that he was in the Guild but not currently in pursuit of a bounty. Cara explained that she’d thought Mando was hunting her and that was why she reacted so defensively.
Understandable. That’s a much more reasonable reaction to his attention than flirting with him from afar liked I’d done in Nevarro. Whoops.
Finally, Cara stood: “Well, this has been a real treat, but unless you want to go another round, Mando, either you or I are gonna have to move on, and I was here first.” She turned to you and added: “You, on the other hand, are welcome to stay.” She winked at you and sauntered away.
You let out a surprised laugh, and Mando swiveled his head from Cara to you so fast, he probably tweaked his neck.
You couldn’t decide if it was hilarious or frustrating (probably both) that Cara had warmed to you over the course of a twenty-minute conversation while Mando remained aloof after more than twenty-four hours together.
Mando shook his head like he was willing away an unwelcome thought and leaned an elbow on the table: “Well, looks like this planet is taken.”
“Technically, that only applies to you.”
“You want to stay here?” There was a hint of unease in his otherwise even voice.
“No, Mando. You’re stuck with me for now, remember?”
“Right.”
You leaned forward and placed both your palms on the table: “But before we leave, I would like it on the record that I watched the kid for a full ten minutes without running away or harming a single hair on his wrinkly head.” You reached over to rub one of the child’s ears briefly, and he cooed up at you. “And I am electing not to ditch you and stay here with Cara even though she seems much more fun than you.”
A sound that might have been a laugh crackled through the modulator.
“So maybe you don’t have to breathe down my neck every second when we’re on the Crest?”
“You did almost let Cara kill me.”
You leaned back and laughed. “So, you admit it—you needed help.”
“No—I...That’s not the point.” You enjoyed how easy it was to agitate Mando.
“You’re right, it’s not. The point is that if I’m going to stick around for a while, you’re going to have to give me the benefit of the doubt. Otherwise, this doesn’t make sense.”
He hummed noncommittally and rested a hand on the tabletop, gloved fingers tapping out an erratic rhythm.
“I could have abducted the kid and stolen the Crest while Cara took her time kicking your ass, but I didn’t.”
“It sounds like you considered it.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “Mando.” 
You fixed him with an impatient stare, and he met your look with his impassive visor.
You huffed, and letting the levity fall away, so he knew you meant it, you asked, “Maybe it would just be easier for me to find some other way out of here?”
His fingers stilled. “No.”
“Okay... so, you’ll lighten up?”
In a well-timed interruption, the kid quirked his head at Mando and let out a string of nonsense that had the upward cadence of a question.
“He’s wondering the same thing.”
The child stretched his arms out toward Mando and wiggled his fingers. “He just wants to be picked up.” Mando scooped him up and tucked him under his arm. “But, point taken. Let’s get out of here,” he said, lifting his hand to flag down the server.
Mando seemed surprised when you reached into your bag and pulled out a small pouch of credits to pay for the food. In reality, it was one of three that you had on you at the moment.
You were a professional at disappearing. You always had a blaster at your back, a knife on your belt, another knife strapped to your ankle, and plenty of credits on your person. Plus, the roughly hewn necklace tucked under your shirt looked unassuming but was worth a small fortune—though, you’d have to be in a really tough spot to ever consider selling it. You were used to leaving places at a moment’s notice. Being prepared for anything was your default state.
Mando should understand that better than anyone.
***
When you returned to the Crest, Mando mumbled something about routine maintenance and disappeared outside with a heavy metal toolbox in hand. The kid was asleep in Mando’s bunk, and you were sitting in the hull, reading about potential planets on your datapad, when you heard strange voices approaching.
Setting down your datapad, you stood and walked down the slope of the ramp at the back of the ship quietly. You peeked your head around the side, staying out of sight, and watched two men speaking to Mando’s back as he continued working at an open panel on the side of the Crest.
The men didn’t look threatening, and Mando was clearly unconcerned. You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
“Our whole village chipped in,” explained one of the men, a touch of desperation in his voice. The other man, who had longer hair, held up a pouch of credits.
Mando turned to face them. “It’s not enough,” he answered simply.
“Are you sure? You don’t even know what the job is?” the man with short, curly hair continued.
“I know it’s not enough. Good luck.”
Rude.
The men were insistent, pleading. Mando’s harsh rebuff surprised you. He seemed to flip flop between being decidedly cold and cautiously warm with strangers, and right now he was the former. You weren’t fooled though. With a little more prodding, you were sure they’d convince him—well, you hoped they’d convince him to take the job and stay.
“This is everything we have. We’ll give you more after the next harvest,” promised the second man.
The side door of the Crest hissed loudly as it opened, and the two men jumped back in surprise. They looked at each other, resigned, when Mando walked up the ramp, ignoring them.
“Come on, let’s head back.”
No, don’t give up yet. He’s secretly soft. He adopts stray babies, protects complete strangers, and offers soup to people who have just thrown him on his ass!
They turned to leave, mumbling sadly to each other. You hurried back up the ramp to meet Mando in the hull. You stopped, settling your hands on your hips.
“What?”
“I mean... we were looking for a reason to stay, and they just gave us one. We were looking for a place to stay middle of nowhere... they just happen to live in the middle of nowhere...”
“Cara—,” he started.
“She seems like a reasonable enough person.”
He let out a long, dramatic sigh then turned to lean out the open side of the ship. “Where do you live?” Mando called after the retreating men.
One of them called, “On a farm. Weren’t you listening? We’re farmers.”
“You have lodging?” Mando clarified.
“Yeah, absolutely!”
“Come up and help,” he said to the men.
The two men paused when they saw you.
“Hi,” you greeted, turning to pull on your boots and grab your bag.
“Hello,” they both replied tentatively.
“She comes too,” Mando stated, jerking his head in your direction, as he began to pack up a chest of weaponry.
“Sure, that’s fine,” one of the men responded.
“And we have to make a stop.”
***
You waited with the two men—they introduced themselves as Caben and Stoke—at their speeder while Mando took the kid and tracked down Cara. They shared that they were krill farmers and needed help because Klatooinian raiders had been terrorizing their settlement.
Mando located Cara quickly, and they met you at the speeder, the back of which was full of weapons. You scooted over to make space for them as the speeder stuttered to life. It was cramped and when everyone was seated, your side was pressed into Mando, the kid settled on his lap.
Mando and Cara talked quietly while you laid your head back to watch the stars. You looked down when you felt something gently press on your thigh. The kid had climbed off of Mando’s lap and was looking up expectantly at you, as if asking permission to crawl into your lap.
You smiled at him and looked up at Mando, posing a silent question.
He nodded once, and you pulled the kid onto your lap. The baby cooed happily, wiggled around to get comfortable, and closed his eyes. You rested your head back again and let the movement of the speeder lull you into a light sleep.
Before you were totally out, you felt Mando adjust beside you, leaning back and stretching an arm over your head. Instinctively, you lifted your head so he could settle his arm down behind you, and you relaxed back so your cheek rested on his cold shoulder.
In a sleepy haze, you decided to capitalize on this opening and let your hand rest on the beskar plate covering his thigh.
***
You woke up when the speeder stuttered to a stop and opened your eyes, rubbing them in the brightness of the morning. You sat up and Mando did the same beside you, moving his arm from where it had been supporting your back. He hadn’t moved all night.
The scene before you was nothing if not idyllic: green and peaceful. Wind whispered through the tall grasses that lined the village, forming a natural buffer between the settlement and the forest. Circular wooden structures, the same pointed shape as the public house, were clustered at the middle of the clearing. Villagers, catching flopping blue krill in flat baskets, waded through square ponds that encircled the small community. Children giggled and called out, running toward the speeder.
“Well, looks like they’re happy to see us,” observed Mando.
“Looks like,” agreed Cara.
The children flocked toward you to see the baby in your arms, and you hopped down to greet them.
***
You spent the morning meeting people, learning the layout of the tiny village. The children took to the kid immediately, following you wherever you carried him. Apparently, Mando had accepted the fact that the child was safe with you because he didn’t object.
The gaggle of children showed you around excitedly, even demonstrating how to expertly sift krill from the ponds. They brought you to the long hall where food—stew and spotchka—was served. You sat on the ground outside, eating and enjoying the sun, with the children and the kid. They watched in enthusiastic disgust as the child caught and ate a live frog.
That afternoon, you and Mando followed the woman who introduced herself as Omera to your lodging. Though there did not seem to be an official leader of the small community, Omera clearly garnered respect. You watched as she gave easy instruction to those around her, and they complied reflexively.
She led you to one of the wooden buildings on the edges of the settlement. You noticed the way Mando stopped in the doorway to admire Omera as she raised a window covering and the afternoon light illuminated her beautiful face.
“Please, come in,” Omera invited warmly. 
You set the baby on the ground, and he waddled a few steps before plopping down to lean against a crate, his eyelids heavy after a full morning of play.
“I hope this is comfortable for the three of you,” Omera continued. “Sorry that all we have is the barn. There is a spare crib for the child.” She gestured at a well-made looking crib. You wondered when the last time the child had slept in a proper bed was.
You picked him up from where he sat dozing on the floor and settled him into the crib.
You looked around the open space of the barn. It was clearly used for storage: it was lined with baskets, furniture, crates, fishing equipment, and more, but a large space in the center of the room was clear. You hadn’t considered until this moment that you might be sharing one room with Mando. Neither of you would be comfortable in these close quarters.
“Oh, we’re not—,” you started.
“This will do fine,” confirmed Mando, cutting you off mid-sentence. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, surprised that he seemed okay with this sleeping arrangement.
“I stacked some blankets over here,” Omera pointed to a stack of quilts in the corner.
“Thank you. That’s very kind,” replied Mando as he turned to unstrap his rifle from his back.
A little girl crept up to the open doorway, looking down at her feet with her hands clasped behind her back. You recognized her from the gaggle of children. She was one of the quieter, shyer kids.
Mando, who was facing the back of the room, whipped around defensively at her movement. His hand hovered threateningly over his blaster.
The little girl gasped and jumped back, disappearing from view. Omera turned to follow her out the door.
You stepped toward Mando and put a steadying hand on his elbow in the space between his armor, drawing his arm away from his weapon. He looked down at where your hand gripped his arm.
“Are you okay?” you asked, under your breath.
He gave you a curt nod and exhaled loudly through the modulator.
You dropped your hand to your side when Omera returned, the little girl hugged tightly to her.
“This is my daughter, Winta,” she explained in her dulcet voice. “We don’t get a lot of visitors around here. She’s not used to strangers.”
Neither is Mando.
Mando stood awkwardly and said nothing.
“It’s nice to meet you, Winta,” you greeted gently. She smiled timidly against her mother’s stomach.
“These people are going to help protect us from the bad ones,” Omera said.
“Thank you,” replied Winta quietly.
“Come on, Winta. Let’s give our guests some room.” Omera took Winta’s hand and lead her away.
As soon as the two of you and the baby were alone, you turned to Mando. “How are we both going to sleep in here? You can’t sleep in your helmet.”
Mando stood frozen, staring at the doorway. He seemed not to have registered that you said anything.
“Mando?”
He turned to you. “I—uh, it’s fine. I didn’t want to inconvenience them any more.”
“But how is this going to work?”
“I can sleep in my helmet.”
“No way, that’s ridiculous. I’ll ask if I can stay with Cara.” You took a step toward the door.
He looked down at the floor. “I’d rather you stay here.”
“Ah...okay. I thought we were past the stage where you felt the need to babysit me,” you joked, hoping that wasn’t the reason for this.
“No. That’s not...” he started to explain but trailed off.
He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, and, despite the prickle of irritation you felt at the confirmation of his mistrust, you felt compelled to fill the uneasy silence that followed.
Avoiding his gaze, you looked over to where the kid was snoozing in the crib. “It’s fine. I’m going to go out for a bit if you want to take it off now. I’ll let you know before I come back in.”
“Thank you.”
You dropped your bag onto a crate and slipped out of the room and into the soft sunlight that shone through the sparse clouds.
Unwittingly, Mando seemed to know how to give you just enough reassurance to keep you around and just enough doubt to keep you guessing about why you were here with him. He was holding you at arm’s length, but not letting you go.
The potential between you was as enticing as it was confusing.
The more time you spent with Mando, the more of a paradox he seemed to be. He was constantly torn between a need to be hard and his instinct to be soft. You had an inkling that at heart, he was soft through and through. How else could you explain the presence of the baby?
His literal and metaphorical armor were clearly worn out of necessity—for several reasons, you guessed: to be successful in a brutal profession, probably as a result of past trauma, and simply because life is just fucking hard. You barely knew him, but you couldn’t help but want to be someone with whom he felt comfortable letting his guard down.
You pushed these thoughts from your mind as you stepped into the dappled light that filtered through the canopy of the forest. You were happy to explore the woods on your own, enjoying the serene atmosphere and natural beauty. It had been a while since you’d been on such a lovely planet. It reminded you of home.
***
When you returned a few hours later, all the villagers were gathering around the barn where Mando and Cara stood on the porch. You walked up to join the crowd and Mando’s visor followed your movement. You smiled at him, and he looked away abruptly, turning to Cara. They exchanged a few words then Mando stepped forward to address everyone.
“Bad news. You can’t live here anymore,” Mando announced. He declared this in an infuriatingly neutral, straightforward way, the same way you’d tell someone there was going to be rain.
They must have seen the same tracks in the forest that I saw.
The villagers broke out in surprised chatter: “What?” “Why?”
Cara and Mando muttered to each other. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you hoped Cara was explaining how callous he’d sounded.
Cara started forward, “I know this isn’t the news you wanted to hear, but there are no other options.”
Despite her slightly better manner, the villagers broke out in angry protests again.
“You took the job!” Caben cried.
“That was before we knew about the AT-ST!” exclaimed Cara.
Your stomach dropped. You had hoped you were somehow wrong about what those tracks belonged to. It would take serious preparation to successfully take on a band of raiders and an Imperial walker.
“What is that?” asked Caben.
“The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn’t mention,” said Cara indignantly.
That is a pretty important piece of information they had chosen to leave out.
More protests erupted. The villagers shouted pleas over one another. Mando was surveying the desperate villagers, saying nothing. You had a feeling that despite his initial refusal and these adverse circumstances, he would elect to help them anyways. Eventually one of the many heartfelt appeals was likely to sway him—listening to their pleading voices, you knew you would find it hard to refuse them.
Omera’s plaintive voice broke over the crowd, and you suspected she’d be the one to convince him.
“We have nowhere to go,” she entreated.
Mando met your gaze, where you stood silently at the back of the crowd. He cocked his head, and you knew what he was asking. You gave him an understanding smile, nodding your agreement. He bowed his head slightly in response.
You turned and walked away, not needing to hear the rest of the conversation to know that Mando had already decided to stay.
***
Chapter 4
190 notes · View notes