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writteninkat · 3 years

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Kitten | Nanami x Reader

summary: Nanami smiles, manhandling you to flip you around. His gold plated name on your neck glistens under the red light. He parts your legs, watching as your cunt oozes out greedy amounts of slick.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: name calling (kitten, daddy), clit slapping, ass slapping, deep throating

a/n: here's a little gift to all my Nanami sinners out there lmao

<500 follower event>

Nanami noticed that you've been ordering online too much already. Just this week he found eight average sized boxes from kittenbasics. Were you planning on getting a cat?

Today has been very tiring for him. Not only has he been stabbed on his side but he also came home to an empty apartment. You had sent him a message saying you were going out with some friends tonight.

Just as he was about to close the door behind him, something caught his eye. He turns to his side and sees three more brown boxes on the floor. Frowning, he picks them up, already knowing they're uour orders. He takes them to the kitchen counter, setting them on it as he grabs a quick glass of water for himself.

As he gulps the water down, his eyes doesn't look away from the packages, curiosity getting the best of him when he sets the empty glass down and walks towards the boxes.

What shit had you been buying online that it has you glued on your computer screen almost every night?

He reads the package's description, frowning when it doesn't explain the contents inside the box. Only your address, name and contact number. Did she buy this from somewhere illegal or something?

He takes a small fruit knife from one of the drawers, pushing the blade through the packaging tape and swiftly running it across the box, cutting the tape open. He proceeds to cut the redt of the sides, softly placing the knife on the counter when he's finished.

Long, slender fingers open the covers of the box and digging through the packing peanuts, looking for the item. Alas, the pads of his thumbs and index fingers touch a velvet-like box. Nanami takes it out, furrowing his brows when he reads the intricate cursive writing on the top of the box.

Kitten basics.

He opens the box slowly, careful as to not damage what was inside. The product his gaze sat on had his heart dropping to his stomach. On a silk-covered miniature pillow inside the box rests a pink collar with his name, Nanami, sculpted in uppercase letters in gold. He takes the collar out, his member already stirring in his pants as he runs his thumb across his name.

A smirk tickles at his lips as his eyes move towards the other two boxes. After opening them both, he finds that one box had cat ears and knee socks in it while the other had a butt plug in a form of a cat's tail.

You definitely knew Nanami likes cats. And you definitely knew he loved it when she begged for him.

You come home to a dark apartment. Guessing your husband hasn't come home yet, you kick off your shoes rather drunkenly, stumbling your way to the kitchen where you gulped down a glass of water. You turn off the lights after placing the glass on the sink.

You stumble your way to your shared bedroom, furrowing your brows when you see that your led lights have been turned on and your actual lights off. Your eyes scan at the items on the bed; cat ears, a cat's tail buttplug, and- your eyes widen at the sight of the special pink chocker with your husband's gold plated name on it.

You feel strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back to his body as he breathes into your ear. "I was wondering what you've been buying online since I've been receiving many packages throughout the week." He runs his hand down your side, fingers teasing the hem of your short, black, bodycon dress.

"Care to explain what these are, kitten?" He whispers into your ear, fingers hooking under your dress, pulling it up to reveal the pink lacy thong you have on. "Leaving the house with such lewd underwear on? Were you planning on showing this to someone else?" He asks, pressing two fingers against your cunt. You press your thighs together as you shake your head, "No, daddy. All of you." You moan loudly, letting him push you on the bed.

"If you won't explain to me what these are..." Nanami picks up the buttplug, shoving it in your mouth before pushing you to lay on your back. He pulls your legs up, slender fingers hooking themselves onto your panties, pulling them down. He brings your underwear to his nose and he closes his eyes, unshamedly breathing in your scent as he looks down on you.

He pulls the buttplug out of your mouth, pressing it against your hole, teasing you. You bite your lip in anticipation, closing your eyes as you feel the plug slowly enter your ass.

"Sit up." You follow his command, pulling your legs back to sit on your heels. He takes the cat ears, putting them on you before taking the collar in his hands. "Why'd you buy this one specifically? Hmm? Kitten?" He asks, padding his thumb over your lower lip.

"Cause I belong to you." You answer, your tingue slipping out of your mouth as you sucked on his thumb, your eyes looking up at him as you hallowed your cheeks, showing him exactly how you'd suck his dick.

He growls, pushing you back down on the bed. He takes the collar, quickly putting it around your neck. He takes his time appreciating the masterpiece that is you, on his bed like this, all for him.

Slowly, he slips your dress off of you, skilfully unhooking your bra with one hand as he peppers sweet kisses all over your neck and chest, slowly traveling them down your breasts. He plays with your nipples with his tongue as his fingers twist and tug at your other one.

His tongue laps up your hardened nipples, taking them in between his terth before sucking red and purple splotches all over your soft skin. Slowly he gets up, pulling you along with him. He sits back on the bed and pushes you down onto the floor where you kneel obediently for him.

Nanami unbuckles his belt, taking it off of the hoops of his pants. He takes your hands, placing them on your back and using the belt to keep them there. He looks at you with such lust-filled eyes, his thumb playing with your lower lip.

"Put that mouth to good use, kitten." He says, leaning back as he lets you do what he asked. You look down at his pants, still buttoned and zipped up, however on the side you could see just how hard he currently is.

You lick on your lips, swallowing as you bite on his pants, undoing the button of his pants. You tug on it, pushing the button back with your tongue to take it out of the hole. You then continue to bite the zipper, your nose poking on his pelvis as you pull the zipper downwards.

You didn't want to wait any longer, you buried your face on the area where the zipper exposed your husband's boxer briefs, inhaking his musky sent as you lapped your tongue on his clothed and erected cock.

"Mmmmm so impatient I see. You want daddy's cock that bad, hmmm?" He teases, his voice so low you feel your cunt clench around your slick and nothing else. You nod your head, looking up at him with meedy eyes.

"Mmmff-fuck, okay kitten. I'll give you your reward." He takes his cock out of his underwear, his tip an angry red. You watch as he strokes his member a few times before pulling your head closer to him. You stick out your tongue, starting from the base, you like the underside of his cock, as you reach his tip you wrap your lips around it and start taking as much of his length as you can. Your fingers begin to tingle, wanting nothing more than to fondle and play with his balls at this very moment but the belt keeping your hands restrained is preventing you from doing so.

"Oh yeah baby, oh yeah... Just like that... Taking daddy's cock like the good little cockslut you are..." Nanami growls, tangling his slender fingers through your hair, tugging on it as you hear him suck in a breath.

As soon as you feel his tip press the back of your neck, you shake your head and get on your knees, pushing yourself even lower, making it your goal to reach his pubic hair with your lips. Nanami moans loudly as his cock pushes through the walls of your throat, feeling as you swallow around him. Once you feel you've taken his entire length inside your mouth, you pull away, gasping for air.

Once your lungs stop feeling like they're burning, you take him in his mouth once again, hallowing your cheeks as you bob your head up and down. Nanami throws his head back, moaning loudly as you feel him start to buck his hips upward. You push yourself lower like before a few times, when you swallow around him this time, he bucks his hips up and pulls your head down, creaming inside your throat and mouth.

You waste no time in swallowing his load. He pulls out of you and parts your mouth open, checking and then smiling to see it empty. "Such a good kitten. Love daddy's cum so much? I don't see a single drop in your mouth." He chuckles, pulling you up and throwing you on your stomach. He pulls your hips up, slapping on your ass, his eyes watching the slap causes a ripple. He slaps your ass again, and again, and again and doesn't stop until both your cheeks are a fiery red color and tears are running down your face.

"Does it hurt kitten?" He asks, rubbing a hand on your swollen bum. You shake your head, looking at him through your side. "Then why are you crying?" He sounds as if he were genuinely concerned.

"It feels too good," You sob, "Daddy."

Nanami smiles, manhandling you to flip you around. His gold plated name on your neck glistens under the red light. He parts your legs forcefully, watching as your cunt oozes out greedy amounts of slick.

Nanami lowers his face in between your thighs, his eyes trained on you as he dips his tongue in between your wet folds. You moan loudly at the feeling of his hot tongue finally against your needy cunt. You roll your hips impatiently, causing Nanami to pull away and slap your cunt.

"So impatient, kitty. Good kittens wait for their daddies to finish their meal. Now stop moving and let me have my dinner." He goes back to your cunt, lewd slurping noises fill the room along with your loud moans and mewls.

Nanami pushes his tongue in between your walls, teeth grazing against your clit, taking you by surprise. Your walls clench around his tongue, squeezing it as he furrows his brows at your orgasm.

He pulls away, scowl evident on his face as he pulls his underwear and pants down. "You came without my permission, kitty." He begins working with the buttons of his shirt, undoing them. "And you know what happens to bad kitties right?" He lines his cock against your hole, hands on each of your thighs. "Tell me, what happens to bad kitties?"

"They don't get to cum." You answer, moaning loudly at the feeling of his member entering your wet and greedy cavern. You've been married with and have been getting fucked by this man for years, and yet your tiny cunt still couldn't get used to his size.

Everytime the two of you fuck, he always stretches you open and has you feeling so full. And your little cunny always squeezes around him, making him feel every inch of your walls.

He pushes his entire length inside you, his pelvis pressing against the back of your thighs. He thrusts inside you slowly a few times to get you at least a little bit more stretched out before his pace increases and the bed is creaking.

Nanami's hands slowly run up from your stomach to your tits, playing and fondling with them before his left one retreats back to your thigh while the other creeps towards your neck. He runs a few fingers over his name before his eyes look at you- your expression.

Your eyes are glassy and your face is flushed, you have a shit eating grin across your face with your tongue lolling out of your mouth. "I feel that good, kitty?" He asks, his thrusts becoming slower but much deeper. You nod your head, unable to use proper words.

"Use your tonge, kitty. Come on. Answer daddy. Do I feel that good?" All the comes out are mashed up words and slurs, making Nanami laugh loudly. He thrusts deep inside you, feeling your walls clench around him.

"I'm fucking you so dumb right now aren't I?" He asks, frowning when you don't reply. He slaps your clit and it takes every single atom in your body for you to not cum right then and there.

"Answer me. I'm fucking you so dumb right now, aren't I?" He growls, his balls slapping against your ass, creating lewd noises. You nod your head and your response encourages him, he slaps your clit just a few more times before he's reaching his own orgasm.

"Don't you fucking cum." He creams inside you, your toes curling as you try your best not to cum. He pulls out, the satisfaction leaving your body along with him.

He watches his cum drip out of you, his fingers teasing your folds, dipping into his white release, pressing his fingers inside your mouth. You suck on his fingers, licking them clean.

He pulls out his fingers and presses his lips on yours, his tongue pressing against yours, tasting himself. He hums in satisfaction, nodding his head. "Okay, you've been a good kitty. I'll let you cum under one condition." He pushes himself inside you once again, "You cum together with me."

His thrusts this time are a bit harder, much more maddening. He rolls his hips as he thrusts deep inside you, his head pressing you g-spot again and again as you cry out how good he makes you feel.

He leans his body towards you, his hips snapping as he presses his lips on your neck. "Who do you belong to?" He grumbles, licking your jaw. "Daddy..." You moan out, closing your eyes as you feel your orgasm slowly creep up to you.

"Mmmm-mmmm. That's not my name. Since I'm fucking you so dumb right now, I'll give you a little clue. The answer is what's written on your neck." He mumbles, hips never ceasing.

"Mmff- Nanami!" You moan loudly, your orgasm already so close to you. "That's it!" Nanami roars loudly, pushing away from you as he slaps your clit, "Who do you belong to?"

"Nanami!"

"Who?"

"Fuck, Nanami!"

You clench around him milking him as he rolls his hips while insde you, helping you ride out your rogasm. You press your head against the soft pillows, his name coming into view as he cums inside you once more, painting your walls white.

The two of you stay silent for a moment, your heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard. Slowly, Nanami pulls out of you making you whimper, the overstimulation causing your body to become more sensitive than you wanted it to be.

"Shhh, shhh... It's okay baby, I got you..." Nanami coos, skillfully undoing the belt from behind you, pulling the restraints away from your hands. You pull your hands from behind you, immediately pulling Nanami closer, breathing in his scent.

Nanami presses soft kisses all over your face as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. He carries you in his arms, walking over to the bathroom where he has already prepared a bath with your favorite bathbomb.

He sets you down on the water, carefully taking off your catears and your choker. "Okay baby, I'll take off the plug now okay?" You nod, wrapping your hands around him as you hiss as the plug is slowly being taken out of you. He continues peppering kisses all over you as he washes you hair and face, he doesn't stop even as he's pulling you out of the tub and walking you back to your bed.

He walks away towards the closet, coming back with the comfortable panties, sweats and one of his shirts. He helps you get dressed, drying off your hair and combing it soft as he constantly kisses you, whispering praises as he does so.

Once he finishes, he sets you down on the bed and he leaves to wash up himself. When he comes back, he joins you on the bed, pulling you into his arms as he presses one last kiss on your forehead.

"I love you baby." You mumble out.

"I love you too."

"I love you more."

Nanami tightens his arms around you, burying his nose on your hair, "I love you most."

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mandalorewhore · 4 years

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Hunter (formerly Hunter and Prey)

Cis-Female Reader Insert/ Din Djarin

Gif by @themandaloriandaily

Thank u to @cptnbvcks, @whenimaunicorn, and of course @no-droids for the inspiration and your superior writing skills, whenever i was stuck on a portion i would reread all of u guy’s works and feel inspired again

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: Exhibitionism, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Breath Play, Deep Throating, Masturbation, Pining, Depictions Of Violence, Canon-Typical Violence Words: 11k AO3 LINK

Summary: AU where Din Djarin stays with the mercenary group owned by Ranzar Malk. Takes place a few years before Din is contracted for Grogu's bounty. You're a merc trying to make a name for yourself in the group when circumstances end up having you run away with Din. You become his hunting partner in order to support yourself but you cant help falling in love with him, even as trained killers chase you across the galaxy.

FULL FIC:

As a mercenary, you wouldn’t consider yourself an overly sensitive person.

Maker knows you wouldn’t have lasted a week in the job if you couldn’t handle your emotions. Although you don’t consider yourself entirely void of empathy, having a sense of detachment is useful when your waking hours are spent committing crimes throughout the galaxy.

So why the fuck are you so jealous right now?

The obscene moans and harsh slapping that echoes throughout the hangar shouldn’t inspire a larger reaction than disgust as you dutifully continue to repair the blaster marks on one of the rogue-class starfighters. Luckily, it seems that most of your immediate associates have ran off into the deeper areas of the bay to toll your last mission.

Excluding three members, you guess.

Thank the fucking Maker Migs isn’t here You think bitterly, willing the sparks to fly higher and machine rumble louder as you carefully manipulate your buffing laser on the metal surface. His snarky attitude certainly wouldn’t lessen your misery as you try to drown out the sounds of sex. Raunchy words hiss, bouncing off the metal walls, before finding your feet and slithering up your limbs with a foulness that chokes you. Controlling the hot spinning laser seems to stoke your inner seething more than it distracts you.

“Mando! Stars, keep-fuck- keep doing that,” you hear Xi’an echoing. Fucking Xi’an. She knows what she’s doing to you. The cruel Twi’lek is far too observant to not know that she is practically comm-station broadcasting her sexual exploits to the entire crew, and with that sheer volume, might as well the entire galaxy. You truly wouldn’t care about her sex life if it wasn’t blatantly obvious that Xi’an was doing this to mock you. You know this is meant for your ears only, a repeat of every other time you’ve found yourself stuck with this chore.

Even if she wasn’t directly rubbing the fact that she was fucking the Mandalorian in your face, you don’t doubt that she would find a way to taunt your nonexistent sex life just for the fun of it. Another salacious moan echoes in the bay causing you to cringe and slightly jerk the repair tool in frustration.

Fuck, why did it have to be Mando? Aren’t there enough people on this kriffing space station to warm her bed? And how is he being so quiet right now? After a second you remember that’s a stupid question, considering he is probably the quietest person you’ve ever met.

His reservation serves to intimidate your targets, all the while unintentionally stoking that warmth in your belly when you are near him. His all-encompassing presence when he enters a room strikes fear in the hearts of the opposition, meanwhile, you are secretly pressing your thighs together in desire, enjoying the spectacle?.

You’ve found yourself reveling in the few jobs where Ran’s strategy has you in a decoy-role, weaponizing your feminine charm to lull your target into a false sense of power. The muscle composing of Burg and Mando make quick work of those men once they're thoroughly wrapped up in your wiles. Despite being placed together for jobs on several occasions you’ve never actually had a real conversation with him.

You’re too scared to talk to him, a near-silent man covered head to toe in Beskar, but you make money killing people and robbing gangs every week. It would be funnier if that purple freak wasn’t so vile. You don’t even know how to casually approach him.. Nice job killing those guys while I manipulated them into trying to fuck me! I’m pretty good with a gun, too. Maker, it’s so ridiculous that you don’t even bother with trying to figure it out. Other fantasies are easier to picture, such as the thought of him strolling across the room to slot himself in-between your spread legs, directing that intensity into your willing, aching body.

This infuriating crush is why you suppose that your envy wouldn’t be as biting if you caught some sort of noise from the man during these displays of exhibitionism. It would give you something to repeat in your mind while you stow away in the late hours of the night seeking your own release. You guess the inability to hear him is proof of how far Xi’an is pushing her volume. It’s all just to piss you off.

“Uhg, how miserable..” You mutter to yourself, allowing a little moment of self-indulgent angst. Typically, you wouldn’t allow yourself to wallow like a petulant teen seeing as you’re a literal fucking criminal.

I’m supposed to be a hardass, dammit you think, spirits low as repairs wrap up far too swiftly. You swear you’ll buff right through every layer in the ship if you keep procrastinating on finishing your job and wandering into the tucked away fresher for a shower. Wandering past….them.

Wherever they are choosing to fuck can’t be that far considering the slap of skin on skin is already fucking loud enough. The sounds seem to be emanating from a vent not too high up the wall, you deduce it connects to one of the bunk rooms not too far from the landing pad you’re working next to. It really is fucking loud with all these metal surfaces to echo off of. Making your way to your small bunk might cause you to go deaf and if the last thing you ever hear is Xi’an wailing as she rubs in the fact that you aren’t fucking Mando, well, you might just take this spinning laser to your head. Unfortunately, at this point, the exterior of the gunship couldn’t possibly get more pristine.

Sighing in defeat, you push up from your crouching position on the metal floor and start to assemble your tools for clean-up while the sounds of Twi’lek pleasure predictably pick up in volume.

“Fuck, fuck-Ah I’m close, I-I’m going to-“ A literal howl pierces the air as your gut twists with discomfort. Fuck, this is so awkward... and like, weird? Does he consent to this? Does he like that we can hear it? Maker.. Pushing that thought out of your mind you start to jog to your goal of the darkened hall that leads to the station fresher, still so wrapped up in jealousy that you almost miss the rough modulated growl accompanying the scream.

O-oh.

Oh shit. Was that Mando….Moaning?

The swirling jealousy is suddenly overtaken by a- stars- painful heat, so debilitating that you stumble and almost double over with an intensity that shoots through your groin. Okay well, now you feel like an actual pervert. This display of eroticism was engineered by Xi’an to make you uncomfortable, not so painfully turned on that it’s dizzying. You vaguely register a growing slickness between your legs as you hurry along the cold hallway, desperate to drench yourself in icy water and pretend to forget the sound of Mando moaning.

Shit, Maker, was he cumming? Was that what he sounds like when-- no stopstopnope. Don’t think about that. Your inner monologue is running amuck as you desperately try to block it out. This feels kinda gross, as if you’re a greasy peeping tom spying on Mando’s private endeavors even though this whole situation was shoved in your face to make you ache in countless, longing ways.

That deep growl repeats in your mind as you hum nonsensically under your breath, tapping your skull as if you can knock the sound out of your consciousness despite being well aware that you will go to your fucking grave with every detail. The top of your inner thighs is so embarrassingly slick that you have to resist waddling along the corridor to the showers. Just as you are about to round the first corner, one of the side bunker doors slides halfway opens with a whoosh. The smirking Twi’lek saunters out like the loth-cat who got the cream.

I suppose she did get the cream... Your split-second of sour mirth is further spoiled as Xi’an slides the rest of the door open revealing the gleam of silver beskar and red steel as the ever still Mandalorian adjusting his…thigh armor. You spy a large vent at the junction between wall and ceiling, confirming your earlier suspicions that she chose this location on purpose. Quickly glancing between Mando and Xi’an, your face uncontrollably floods with fire when her giggles pierce the air. You register his helmet tilting toward you right as Xi’an’s tongue slowly extends to liiiick her fingers, any curiosity at his gesture burning away in revulsion.

What does she get out of making everyone uncomfortable? You think to yourself, wanting to squirm away from the obscenity but resolving to hold your ground.

“Xi’an,” You greet the two shortly, hands linked behind your back. “Mando.” He nods.

“Sorry,” Xi’an offers in a voice devoid of guilt. “Were we being too loud? I would never want to distract you from your… projects.” Her taunting smile curls so widely that it is almost disturbing. “What would the team do without our junior mechanic!”

Her cackle rings through the suddenly freezing hall as you spin on your heel and try to not look like you’re fleeing. Red is tinting the edges of your vision from her insult while tears threaten to flood your eyes out of embarrassment.

You need to get to that shower quickly.

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

As the tepid shower rains down on your flushed body, you childishly wonder if you should run away. Or rather, if you could run away considering you technically don’t own any of the ships currently residing in the hangar bay. Although you technically have free reign to pilot most of the spaceships available, that freedom entirely applies to transportation between merc assignments . The thought of running away from your current acquaintances on a stolen ship is not appealing. In fact, the only crew member owning a personal vessel happens to be Mando, his Razer Crest gunship was often subject to your mechanic skills.

Mando, who always offered a genuine “Thank you.” after you’d spend hours touching up the vessel’s damage procured from the rare missions he lent its flight to. Mando, the person who you are presently trying to not think about while naked and still trembling with emotion.

Your sillier fantasies would sometimes involve stealing away in his gunship, hand pressed over his chest and leg thrown across his lower body like a romance novel while he skillfully pilots the ship away. Kriff, you felt like a soft girl whenever you run this scenario through your mind, so cliché and campy that you cringe at yourself. Thus, this particular dive into your consciousness was reserved for special moments such as lying in bed after a strenuous job, or after long days spent working through that junkyard of hangar bay trying to strong-arm your way into earning worth in the company. Private moments where you are finally comfortable letting your guard down to drift aimlessly throughout maladaptive daydreams.

Not so soft fantasies exist in your mind as well. Once again that modulated groan springs to the forefront of your mind causing your clit to throb softly. The conflicting feelings of embarrassment, rage, and painful arousal serves to create an energizing cocktail that goes straight to your pussy.

‘Fuck it,” You whisper breathily to yourself, “Nows as good a time as ever..” your fingers are trailing down your stomach as you say the words out loud. You adjust the water to be slightly warmer and sigh as the comfortable heat compliments your tickling fingers. If only you could replace your hands with the significantly larger leather-clad ones of a certain bounty hunter. The thought spikes your arousal as you lightly brush against your mound, choosing to tease yourself as images flash through your mind. The armor-clad Mandalorian gripping the back of your neck to you press facedown on the floor of his ship and take his cock. Or your legs spread wide across his hips, crushing your pussy on his groin while he’s seated in the pilot seat of his ship.

Your fingers dip slightly into your slick hole then drag up to your clit causing you to bite your free palm and hold back a moan. Eyelids heavy, you give in to the fantasies and begin to earnestly rub at your clit.

“Mmf Maker, f-fuck..”, you whine into your hand at the thought of him breaking your pussy open. You just know he fucks hard -- it’s a given that the crazy Twi’lek would be one for rougher sexual affairs. Someone who spends nearly every moment of life feeling nothing but the weight of fabric and beskar on their skin must be so fucking touch starved. You bet the opportunities he’s had to feel a tight cunt wrapped around his length would completely overwhelm his restraint. Muffled moans begin to fill the fresher as your fingers speed up between your legs, head hanging forward into the metal wall and water dripping off your brows.

Your eyes flutter shut as you pull your hand from your lips to tug at your hardened nipple, other hand still between your legs, imagining a dark visor being trained on your soaking wet, writhing body. The image sends a shooting pleasure up your spine as you spin around and press your back to the wall. Imagining his dark form watching you from the other side of the gathering steam, you open your thighs and spread your labia apart, sighing at the wet sound it makes. “Like what you see, hunter..?” you whisper into the empty room wishing he would find you in this shower.

Removing your fingers from your nipple you reach down to your crotch and greedily fill yourself with two fingers, pumping in and out as your other hand works at your swollen clit. The volume of your now unmuffled pleasure is likely overheard by anyone on this section of the station, but you can't find it in yourself to give a shit. If Xi’an can screech out her orgasms at any given opportunity to fuck with you then let them hear.

Let him hear.

Your imagination runs rampant at the notion that he could hunt down your gasps and take care of you himself, causing you to gasp louder. S-shit people can hear you, you just won't say his name out loud, it's fine, it's f-fine- The thought of him discovering you here is so hot that it's blinding, and suddenly your orgasm is rushing up to crush you entirely.

Your lower half is locked tight then suddenly your knees buckle and you’re cumming hard. Your choked gasps cutting through the steamy shower like blaster fire as you peak higher, uncontrollably calling out for the Mandalorian while white-hot pleasure wrings you dry. Let him hear you crying for him as you gush around your fingers, convulsing in bliss.

In the shuddering aftershocks, you don’t hear the uncharacteristically loud padding of leather boots retreating away from the fresher door.

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

You’re good at your job. You wouldn’t be doing it if you truly couldn’t handle the ordeal of being a mercenary. The whole point of the job is to take care of the dirty work, so those far disconnected wouldn’t have to dwell on their choices too hard. You’re used to not asking questions, motivated by credits and reputation alone. But in moments like these, a job going this awry… well, you just feel like pure shit. This hit was way too easy and far too filthy even for your career mostly consisting of professional filth. It was so glaringly obvious that even if your associate’s numbers were sliced in half, you would still sweep the ground with your winnings.

And what meager earnings they are.

The crew’s assignment this round was to hit a casino shipment just outside the outer rim planet of Cantonica. Due to the Razer Crest’s ability to fly under the radar of both Imperial and New republic records, Ran rudely allotted that Mando should allow his ship’s use for crew transport. You’re surprised he agreed at all, but perhaps the prospect of gain motivated him. His motivations are rarely clear to you. You’re guessing the price of a wealthy city’s supply sounded frankly too tempting for everyone involved; Ran was practically salivating over the drawing board for this particular errand. One would imagine a hull stacked to the top with credits and the finest luxuries for Canto Blight’s flashy tourists. It is Catonica’s main attraction after all.

But once the team’s resident crime droid, Zero, breached the cargo ship's record, the whole team is informed that the cargo-freighter ship only contains “organics”.

Slaves.

In the end, Migs remarked that there may still be something of worth to obtain from this job, and thus the plan morphed into an robbery on the surface once the cargo landed at its isolated dock. You reluctantly agreed to continue while Mando shortly nodded, both of you last to assent on this change in direction.

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

Some hours later you’re crouching in a derelict warehouse while the lessening blaster fire showers spark like fireworks across your corneas. The fighting between your crew and the dockyard guards has almost died down at this point and you take the moment to catch your breath behind a large stack of cargo boxes.

“Holy stars,” you gasp out, head falling between your knees as a wave of guilt consumes you momentarily. This job fucking blows. It’s so much easier robbing Imps and gangs because they are inherently bad fucking people. Robbing a group of slaves is the lowest point you think you have ever hit in your life. This is so wrong, this is so so wrong, they don’t even have ownership of their own lives and here your crew of fucking mercenaries swoops in with a vengeance over being cheated out of something that we didn’t own in the first place.

The last straw was when you witnessed a young bedraggled woman fearfully tossing the Twi’lek sibling, Qin, a small wooden necklace, the last possession from her life before slavery. You ended up turning tail and running deeper into the dock while Qin needlessly hissed at her just to enjoy her terror. You’re sure he’ll just toss the thing after the job is over.

“I never would’ve agreed to this…” You breathe out shakily to the empty air, hollowness swallowing your ability to compartmentalize your humanity from the nature of this work. You are still fighting the impulse to give in to that deep pit of sorrow when a large shadow makes you start and grip your blaster before relaxing in recognition at the chrome gleam.

“Oh, hey, Mando,” Smiling tightly in his presence as he approaches silently, his helmet tilted down at your crouched form. His gaze makes you straighten up quickly, realizing that you probably shouldn’t look so stricken in front of your crime associate. Gotta look tough, can’t let people think you’re too soft for this work. Man, didn’t he help start the company? That thought motivates you further to stand up and face him head-on.

“Not what we expected huh? Certainly no Canto luxury here..” you quietly murmur to his cheek groove.

If you looked directly where his eyes might be he would likely catch the sparkle of moisture threatening to pool at your bottom lashes.

“No,” he breathes shortly through the modulator. “Not this.” Something in his voice inspires the bravery to glance at his T-shaped visor. Compared to his usual tone of speech he almost sounds …stricken right now. Distraught by this display of debauchery your crewmates have shown the slaves and few people manning the dock. It's not noticeable unless you’ve been around him enough to read him on some level but deep down you know he feels the same way. You try to recall him taking part in the violent takeover and realize he was barely present for the ordeal. Aside from the initial violence that broke out during landing he hardly did anything and was noticeably absent once the slaves were targeted. In the back of your mind, you pray that he won't be reprimanded for the lack of effort. The thought is ridiculous but you’re scared anyway.

Stars, this is all too much, your head is swirling with grief and stress as your heart rate picks up and suddenly you are so desperate for humanity, for empathy that you lose your filter and-

“Couldn’t stomach it either?” You blurt out to him, desperately hoping he understands and will not judge your deep sorrow for the enslaved people affected by this brutal takedown. Your mind catches up in panic half a second later when Mando doesn’t immediately respond. Did you just seek sensitivity from the Mandalorian? Fuck. Wait. That sounded like an insult too. Fuck um-

“Ah, um I-I mean. I just mean I don’t remember you firing on anyone helpless and I um- I didn’t either, I didn’t fire my blaster at all to be honest I-Fuck- I hid. They’re just slaves not Imps, Mando. The guards were taken out in seconds and-” You hiccup and stutter as tears gather at the edges of your eyes and begin to fall. You feel so overwhelmed with anxiety and guilt that all of a sudden you forgot about his open show of emotion.

Pull it together, don't do this in front of the Mandalorian. He is the very picture of a stoic, hardened mercenary and now you’re kriffing crying in front of him? It briefly registers that this is the first time you’ve ever spoken one on one with him, the both of you were almost always alone or with members of Ran’s party during time off. You internally curse your existence for thinking you could tearfully word vomit in front of a fucking bounty hunter and get comforted by him. Your knowledge of Mandalorians is limited, despite knowing one, yet you think the point of his whole creed about giving up your identity and giving yourself to war. Why the fuck did you cry in front of a damn Manodlorian? You’re just starting to unfreeze from your panic-stricken muscles to dab at your cheeks when a gloved hand swiftly brushes just below your eye to catch a tear.

‘This wouldn’t have happened if that Droid could do his job,” You glance up at him in shock at his biting tone juxtaposed with the gentle gesture, but he’s already turning away, voice rotating with his visor. “The worst is over now that the shooting stopped. Let’s round up the others.”

He pauses with his back turned and you take that moment to compose yourself. You’ve only shed a few tears so your eyes can’t be that red.

“O-okay.. .” You reply, trying to inject your usual backbone into the tone of your response before moving to follow him around the piled boxes and regroup. Staring into your warped reflection in the back of his helmet you try to find the words to thank him but they get lost in the ghosts of today.

Your mind is still swirling but the clouds of despair have mostly cleared away. You know you don’t have time to dwell on your short interaction yet your mind is fully absorbed in his every move, both present and past. Coming from anyone else his reaction would seem shitty and dismissive but coming from Mando... well, you're honestly shocked. Those two sentences were fairly long for someone usually so silent. And what about his reaction to the way this job has gone? Him brushing away your tears?

You are gazing down at your feet deep in thought when you suddenly bonk into the back of Mandos broad back, wacking your forehead on the base of his helmet.

“Oww.” You groan lightly, rubbing your forehead and stepping to the right of his body, “Why’d you stop so sudde-'' It is then when you notice the muffled whimpering coming from the clearing in front of the both of you. A crimson pool of blood laps at the Mandalorian’s boots, its kiss staining the leather a deep black.

Now you are truly sickened, bile rising in your throat as a ragged gasp leaves your mouth.

“Why…? How can you..”

“Xi’an!”

Your choked whisper leaves your lips at the same moment the Mandalorian fucking barks the Twi’leks name.

A crumpled form adjacent to her body is the source of the whimpering and bloodshed, their contorted limbs looking less than human as muscles strain against metal binders. Xi’an’s triangular blades are dripping in her grip as she spins on her toes like a dancer and flounces childishly in the direction of your frozen form. Tearing your gaze away from the shell of a human you meet her eyes with open hostility. She stops several yards away from you.

‘Aha! So good to see you two. Isn’t this job sooo disappointing?” She calls out to the two of you casually. When no one responds her body deflates as she twists her knee inward and clutches one arm peevishly. Performative. “What? No hello? I could’ve died today!” She cackles at the notion.

Mando is a statue at your side. You can feel the rage radiate in waves off his body like a heater and you wonder what's going to happen if Xi’an pushes this further. Your heightened stress from moments before is vibrating throughout your nervous system, compelling you to step forward and speak up.

“Xi’an… this-this is completely unnecessary. The only thing required to complete our hit was taking out guards! What the fuc- and they were clearly incapacitated by you before you decided to take your blade to their skin!” Okay, that came out a little shakier than intended, but it feels like a disservice to hide your revulsion for her actions with the victim lying right there. “You could’ve just hit em’ in the skull with a blaster shot if you needed them out of your way!”

“Guards? Oh, I already took them out. This-” Xi’an punctuates the word a kick into the person’s stomach causing them to groan weakly, “Well, this is just an Organic as Zero would put it.” Organic? Fucking- You jump slightly and glance to your left when the Mandorlorian makes a shocked exclamation at her words. Maker, you’re so sickened you forgot he was with you.

“You mean a Slave? From the shipment?” He hisses the question through his teeth. You can’t see his face but you can hear the tension in his jaw, his body still a ridged form at your side. Xi’an pokes her tongue out and runs it lightly over the pointed edge of her teeth while she considers her response. She seems to be measuring her response to Mando with a little more care than she bothered with while speaking to you. You’re guessing that she cares far more about his perception of her than your personal attitude regarding the Twi’lek. Wouldn’t want to piss off her fuck buddy.

“Answer me!” He snaps when her response takes a millisecond too long. Your purple associate sighs, exasperated now.

“Yes a slave,” she hisses, drawing out the word in contempt, “Really I’m doing him a favor. From the looks of him, he was picked up on Tatooine. I doubt he even had a family to mourn him back on that shitty dustball of a planet-” Her eyes suddenly bulge as she clamps her mouth shut, gaze fixed on the armored man betraying a twinkle of... fear?

Slowly, you turn to him. The pit in your stomach is somehow weighing heavier than ever when you take in his body language. If you thought he was emanating white-hot rage before Xi’an’s response then you don’t even have words for how he holds himself now. You take a half step back in trepidation as the air around you seems to warp around the Mandalorian’s gravitational pull.

“A foundling?” His tone is unexpectedly quiet for someone who is manipulating the very atmosphere of this desert planet. Time seems to freeze. Shadows are ebbing at the edge of your vision and your head feels like it is going to pop in the pressure. You want to do something, anything, to relieve the pressing wall closing in on the three of you, to somehow end this interaction so that you can crawl in on yourself and bury the ghosts in the back of your mind. Fuck, your mouth is so dry, heart palpitating with a painful squeeze. Shit, fuck, what do you do? What did he mean by that question and why is Xi’an freaking out? You’re still fixated on the gleam of his helmet, rushing to find appropriate words when-

A flash of red explodes in your peripheral-vision, sparks seeming to fly 20 feet in the air. The words die in your throat in shock.

Did he? Did he shoot her? You barely saw him move yet as your mind races to catch up on this turn of events, you realize his blaster is drawn low on his hip, while the rest of him hasn't shifted an inch. The pressure cooker disappears in a sweeping wave of silence.

You swallow and turn awkwardly back to Xi’an. Oh.

He shot the slave.

Xi’an is just as stiff as you, her arms slightly raised as if she instinctively tried to ward off the blaster fire before realizing its trajectory. You are still processing his actions when a gloved hand wraps around your wrist and pulls you swiftly as he runs from the scene, tossing a flash bomb behind the both of you.

Without question, you run with him.

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

“Hey!” Within minutes your chest is burning from keeping up with Mando’s relentless pace. You’re fit from your job but he's twice as big as you and probably more than twice as fast. You get the feeling that he's moving slower than usual so you aren’t left behind. Struggling to control your breathing, you attempt to make sense of the jumbled thoughts by wheezing out, “M-Mando what are we doing?”

“Running.”

“Okay, fucking obviously!”

“To the Crest.” He clarifies just as shortly. Okay. Okay, once you reach his ship maybe you’ll get more answers. Right now, both of your priorities align with getting the fuck away from Xi’an before her vision returns and she comes after the both of you. But you can’t yet push some of the recent events to the side.

“You shot him.” You mean to phrase it like a question but it comes out more accusatory than intended with how breathless you are. “The slave you shot-“

“I ended his suffering.”

Oh. That makes sense, even if it makes your chest contract in duress you recognize his killing the slave came from a place of empathy. What exactly did he say right before drawing his blaster, something about… foundlings? You don’t know the term exactly but contextually you can guess it means orphan or alone. Fuck, this is so bad. Just what are you going to tell everyone? He may not have directed his shot at the Twi’lek but he temporarily blinded her. That still counts as an attack on a member of the team. Your chest is burning unbearably now so you slap at Mando’s vambrance to signal your need for a break. He drags you gasping around a corner into the shadowy edge of the warehouse.

“Listen, hey, look at me.” His large hand reaches out to gently grip the side of your face, warm against your skin and smelling sharply of blaster residue. Looking into his visor you realize your cheeks are damp again as hysterical hiccups threaten to make themselves known. “We are going to run. You don’t have to come with me of course but I unintentionally put you in the position of being complicit by attacking Xi’an. That-that wasn’t the plan… but I was leaving the company anyway”

His chest suddenly deflates as he rids it of air.

You realize you were holding your breath at the same time as him as you gasp out, before rubbing at your cheeks and asking dumbly, “Y-you were… leaving the company? Is Ran pissed?”

Stupid question. Of course, he’d be pissed at losing the one Mandalorian in the group. Mandos' presence gave him cred.

“Ran doesn’t know.”

“Ran doesn’t… what? When was this happening then?”

Mando’s visor turns away from your gaze and looks off into the middle distance. His gloved hand on your face is still gripping gently to lock you in place. “Today. That’s the only reason why I agreed to let him use the Crest for this job.”

He shakes his helmet slightly and turns back to your face, the metal covering his face becoming your main focal point while the room spins. You can't see his features, and never would, yet you feel as if you are looking directly into his eyes. Your body has impeccable timing when you feel your cheeks heat blushing.

However, your senses return in an instant when a familiar piercing howl echoes off the walls. The glove drops and he is gripping your shoulders,

“Can you run again?”

Adrenaline springs your limbs into action as you spin around, catching his wrist and pulling, roles reversed as you lead him in the direction of his ship.

Dust is billowing from below whenever your feet meet the ground. The steps sound like thunder in your ears as paranoia begins to worm its way into the forefront of your senses, every corner, every shadow, every blindspot could be hiding one of your former partners. Xi’an is an excellent assassin; time and time again her main skill has proven to be stealth, targets dropping dead expectedly. The Crest isn’t very far thankfully. It sits right on the back of the targeted freighter since Zero requires physical contact to hack the other ship systems for paths. Oooohh shit you forgot about the droid-

“Mando, Zero’s in there.” You puff out shortly in between breaths.

“Fuck that droid. I’ll take care of him, just back me up.” You both slide around a corner as he responds, bringing the two ships into your field of view. You are facing the rear end of the larger vessel, thankfully leaving the coast clear as far as you can tell. Mando’s helmet scans the area then nods, indicating the go-ahead with his fingers before running ahead of you. You follow him, casting fervent glances behind you for any signs of life. You reach the ship a millisecond after he does, his vambrance held high to lower the rear ramp. As the ramp begins to lower he grips your shoulders and spins you around dizzily.

“Stay right outside here. The second I enter the crest I’m dropping the Droid. I’ll call you once it’s safe.” You gulp quickly and nod in assent right before he leaps into the opening of the ship.

Seconds pass.

Your nerves are plucking way more than they normally would.. You never particularly liked Zero, but the sudden turn of taking out your ex-allies is making you high strung and nervous. Zero’s voice cuts through the silence, making you jump.

“Mandolarian, you are back early. Were the prospects plentiful despite being Organics?”

“No.” You twitch when a shot echoes in the hull followed by the clash of metal on metal.

The Mandalorian sharply calls your name springing you into action. You enter the ship immediately spying Zero’s body under the cockpit ladder, blaster wound still smoking with red-hot metal ringing the edges. Your eyes linger a little on the droid’s body, slightly leery at the death of someone who was your backup only hours ago, then you sigh and duck to get a handle on under his shoulders, dragging him to toss out the open entryway.

Grunting with effort you direct your voice at the cockpit, “Tossing the droid! Take off when read- Shit.”

One of the droid's hip joints gets stuck on a portion of the hull wall, preventing you from moving his corpse. Something wizzes above you at the exact moment you duck down to adjust the body, right where the back of your head was a second ago. One of Xi’an’s triangle blades ricochets off the wall and slides across the floor, stopping right under your nose. Oh f-

“Fuck! Fly, fly, she's here Mando!” You lurch to the floor as the thrusters kick in, twisting your head to try and get eyes on the clearing. Through the rapidly closing ramp, you see a flash of purple skin, but before you have time to react the Crest door snaps shut. Heart thudding at what feels like a million beats per second, you try to get your bearings on the floor. Twisting sideways you suddenly find yourself face to face with Zero’s corpse, revulsion whipping through you like lightning as you scramble backward on your hands and feet.

You can’t do this right now.

The last thing you want is to seem weak and needy in front of the man who just selflessly saved your life, for reasons still unknown, but you can’t do this right now. A creature of habit, you fold your neck between your legs, the same reaction you had to the violence on Cantonica. A minute, you just need a minute, a minute and then this horrible drone will go away, and you can deal with this, you’re a fucking mercenary… the blackness swarming at the edges of your sight overtakes you all at once and you slide limply to the floor.

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

You aren’t sure how much time has passed once you rouse. At your request, Mando tosses Zero's body before kicking into hyperdrive right about 120,000 feet in the air. You stare at its flight path until the speck disappears in the taupe shithole that is Cantonica. Feeling shaky as your adrenaline finally dips, you decide that the Crest could do with a once over before the long journey.

After performing a quick analysis on the Crests systems it’s determined that the two of you are lucky this hunk of metal can fly. Hyperdrive operating at 67% capacity, weak communication signal if it even works half the time, plus more damage than you can currently process. If there weren’t five million different stressors weighing on you, your mechanic brain would probably explode at the current state of Mando’s ship. He probably should’ve taken it to you, or anyone else handy with tools if he wanted it to be in proper form for departure, but it makes sense that he didn’t want to draw too much attention. Hopefully, his pilot skills will compensate for the Crest’s sorry state.

To be fair, the whole blow-up-your-coworker-and-run-for-your-life aspect didn’t seem to be in Mando’s original plan.

“So… where are we going?” You’re on the floor in the cockpit, back facing the passenger chair while the Mandalorian is seated pilot. After crawling under the console for a while you couldn’t bother to lift your aching muscles on the chair, resigning to scoot on your butt over to the closest object that could support you. As a result, you end up craning your neck to look up at him, his back straight in the chair.

“My original plan was to head to Nevarro to take on a few quarries. I’m still with the guild and Karga doesn’t give a shit whether I’m running with Ran or going in alone.” You bite your lip anxiously. Oh yeah, you kinda forgot your presence threw wrench in his plan. He notices and tilts the helmet sideways at you, “You’re not in the way. I’m not concerned about you joining me, someone of your skillset is helpful to have around. I’ll introduce you to Karga so you can get on your feet.”

The compliment lifts your spirits enough to make you playful, poking at his boot with your toe, “Gee, glad I’m useful enough to keep around. All I have is my blaster and the clothes on my back, so if you drop me, I’d be pretty fucked.”

You giggle quietly but you know it’s the truth. All of your possessions are back on the space station, but you didn’t own too many personal artifacts, aside from some clothes and weapons. The only thing of use would’ve been your credits. You worry again at the realization, dipping your head before continuing to speak,

“Shit Mando, I don’t have any money on me. It was all back in my bunk, I don’t know how I’ll help pay for things around here unless Karga decides I can take on a quarry right away. Even then I’ll have to bring it back before I ever have a lick to my name.”

“You can make it back. I’ll split the profit from jobs that you assist me on. Cut depends on how useful you are and once you prove yourself, Karga will give you the decent pucks.” He swivels the chair and faces you, knees slightly spread as he leans forward in the chair, “Deal?”

You swallow and nod your head, mind blanking at how your head is level with the bend in his hips. You don’t think he's trying to come across as suggestive but the effect, intentional or not, invites a flutter of desire in your tummy. The Mandalorian leans back on his leather backing and sighs, the sound gentle despite the modulator warping his natural tone,

“You aren’t in my way. I swear it. If I had more time before leaving I would’ve asked you to join me anyway, you're good with your hands and always had more… compassion? Than anyone else in the company. I admire that quality.” That makes you straighten back up to meet his visor. He sounds nearly shy.

“O-oh…” You never even thought he noticed you aside from when you touched up the Razor Crest. The compliment sends warmth throughout your body, as languid as sex pollen in the near feverish effect. You don’t know how to respond at all, you’re feeling disjointed, like you may reveal too much if you don't change the subject soon. You wish you could be snappier but you’re exhausted. Maybe try for a joke?

“I g-guess you value girls good with their hands, huh. H-haha?”

Silence. Hm.

That was the absolute worst thing you could’ve come up with.

It didn’t meet even a single one of your simple ass goals, which entail the following:

Thank him.

Change the subject.

Not reveal how much his words make you want him to rail you.

Wow, what the fuck- kill me. He hasn’t moved an inch, much less reacted to your shitty joke. The positioning of your bodies that you found so hot ten seconds prior is now a place you’d try anything to escape from. It’s almost comical how his height advantage serves to emphasize the disappointment in the small room. He hasn’t responded so you’re guessing he won’t bother to try. Heavy silence suffocates you to the point of desperation, you need to fill it with something right now or you swear you’ll die.

“I-I jus-t mean like- Well you had certain- ah- habits, you’d adhere to in your free time. Li-like um, I mean you didn’t hide much. Kinda obvious if you- listen, uh, I didn’t mean t-to say that I-I was joking around-”

“Get to the point.”

“I-” Your tummy fills with heat at his command. “Umm..” You wipe your hands on your thighs and glance down from his voice. The hours of on and off adrenaline must be majorly messing with your head. It’s kinda weird that you want him this badly after everything that went down today. Wasn’t your most recent concern something about avoiding death at the hands of a bitch you hate most in the galaxy? To be honest you can’t recall.

The proximity of his groin is suddenly at the forefront of your mind. Again.

He slowly tilts his helmet to look at you, arms bending to settle in a relaxed position on the armrests. You are extremely aware of how you’re blatantly staring at him but your mind is slow to come up with a valid response, blankness written in the reflection on his visor. His position on the chair is mountainous, looming over your body in a way that boxes you in between the passenger seat and the Crest console. You feel like a prey animal... In a sexy way? Maybe?

Although, when he leans back into his seat, helmet still trained on your face, you are unsure if you’re actually pissing him off or not.

“Say what you mean.”

Okay, the sexy is mixing a little with anxiety.

“Ah- Um well, I just mean like. It’s not like you hid it from me- everyone else too. In the company. Ran’s company? ‘Cause, I- We… always overheard you and Xi’a- Her…” Fuck, your mouth is so dry that last part came out like a squeak. “I’m sorry, I’m rambling again um, I kinda thought you were doing it on purpose. With Xi’an. Making me hear when you’d...fuck her.” Cheeks blazing, you duck your head back down, which doesn’t help at all since you’re just face to face with his crotch once more.

“You say ‘always’...” Mando’s inflection is lost somewhere between statement and question, his tone confusing enough that you end up lifting your head from its bowed position below him.

“Y-yes?”

“As in this was a common position you found yourself in? Did you overhear me multiple times?” Now he poses not one but two questions for you, neither of which you feel brave enough to answer steadily. You can’t deflect further at this point so you answer him with a sigh.

“No, I only heard you once. Xi’an always wanted me to hear her though. It was gross.” Mortified, you gather your legs under your body to stand up from the floor. You think the hyperdrive issue is fixed well enough to hold until Nevarro. When your hand reaches for the edge of the armrest to pull yourself up it is abruptly enveloped in warm leather. Half crouched, your arm jerks back a little in surprise at his touch.

“I wasn’t asking about myself specifically. And I wouldn’t force you to participate in her games, had I known.”

Maker strike my ass down. Can humans die from embarrassment? You wish it were possible if it got you out of this conversation. He’s correct, he didn’t specify whether you had heard his moaning. If you weren’t nursing these stupid feelings for Mando you never would’ve given away the fact that you memorized every tantalizing second of what you overheard. Not only is this embarrassing, but you don’t want him to think you’re a sicko who wanted to eavesdrop in the first place. The clarification about his awareness of Xi'an's timing is comforting but not enough to erase what you already admitted to him. You somehow feel sweaty and bone-dry at the same time, a flush spreading over your face.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I heard you too.”

You both speak at the same second, and a beat passes before either of you process what the other said. He- what? What is he talking about? Are we having two totally different conversations right now? When did you ever fuck someone on that space station anyway… unless he means… in the fresher…

This time he is the one who breaks the silence, “You’re sorry for… overhearing me?”

“Y-yes, I really, really, don’t want you to think I’m a creep or anything. Anything I heard was involuntary, I swear. Xi’an w-wanted to make me… Um…” You trail off shyly, sitting down again. His hand is still over yours.

“Get to the point.” His voice is filled with heat now, so low and compelling that you’d tell him anything just to keep it that way. You whisper your response, lifting your eyes to his dark visor wishing you could meet his gaze.

“She wanted to make me jealous. Over you.”

“Mm… You wanted me instead?”

“Maker, yes.”

The climate between you and the Mandalorian made a 180. Nerves dissolving like honey in tea, all at once being taken over by a hum of sexual tension while his fingers caress a warm pattern over your knuckles. Exhilaration builds within you, though in the back of your mind you are calculating the possible motives behind his advance.

You know sometimes, after a particularly rough day, people are compelled to relieve their pent-up stress through intimacy. There’s a reason why the market of sex work thrives under wartime, terror existing constantly in a fighter’s life must be paired with the softer, inner-most comforts of knowing another living being, or they’d go mad with sorrow. Brothels made a lot of money during the last stages of the Empire’s rule from both Imps, Rebels, and neutral parties alike.

It’s not out of the ordinary for you to seek each other out right now, yet can’t help but dream that this might mean more.

The Mandalorian’s hand currently encasing yours flips your wrist to trace the lines of your palm. Sighing you tilt your head to the side, a curtain of hair cascading across your features. His free hand reaches out to brush the strands away before he gently grips your jaw, hand large enough to press his thumb on the front of your chin while his fingers wrap lightly under your ear.

“I heard you too, pretty girl. You called out for me in the fresher… just what were you doing in there? Describe it- please.” He speaks with such allure that you break under his voice, pressing your cheek to his palm.

“I-I thought of you watching me while I touched my pussy. I was so wet thinking about how I want you to feel me after being under all your armor, Stars, even the wind can’t touch you Mando. I thought about how you must crave the feeling of something so soft… can I show you how soft I am?” Your free hand raises to rest gently on his knee, fingertips hesitating at the edge of his thigh piece. He is still fully suited for battle, explosives strapped to one boot and rifle across his shoulders.

You wish so badly to help him unwind, you would never disrespect him by trying to remove his armor, but you want to help him move past the experience that was Cantonica. Mando continues to stare at you for several tense seconds before melting into your touch.

“H-helmet stays on.” He breathes out shakily, a slight tremor running through his legs as your fingers lightly explore the fabric under the edge of the piece of metal. “But the rest… the rest can come off.”

He’s already moving to undo the magnetic connectors holding his cuirass in place so you scramble to follow his movements. The rust-colored armor on his body has complex enough attachments that you don’t really know where to begin. Your hands clamber around, mostly following his deft movements. Slowly a man of flesh and blood is revealed, and as his impenetrable exterior melts away you find the true shape of him.

The armor serves to add a few inches of bulk on his features, enhanced proportions making out a dramatic silhouette designed to be spotted from miles away. Without it his body is still so powerful, built hard as stone and broad, hard angles melding enticingly with a hidden softness. Not hidden- you realize -it compliments him completely. The pieces fall away and you’re left with the unexplored bareness of him. He is human and warm, evidence of this betrayed in rare moments where his hands travel lightly up your arms while you work at his pauldrons, brushing through your hair here and there before finally returning to your jaw to hover in front of your lips.

“Off.” He instructs shortly, brushing the seam of his thumb over your bottom lip. Your mouth falls open to explore him with your tongue, tasting salt, blaster residue, and a hint of the heat he holds in his body. Satisfied, you bite down gently on the glove ridge, watching as he pulls off the leather encasing his hand and drinking in the sight of golden skin as it is revealed to you inch by inch. All you’ve seen of him is one bare hand and somehow it is the sexiest thing you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Flames lick your body, spreading from your white-hot core, energy gathering with such impassioned motions that at any second now it will burst from your skin, a reaction so immense that you could birth another galaxy.

You want to taste his skin too.

“Fuck baby-” You take his middle finger down to the knuckle, emboldened by his slurred reaction, noises startling to babble out of the bounty hunter as his stoicism falls apart under your tongue. Humming around the digit, you start to bob your head gently, eyes locked on his impassive visor while filthy, filtered noises drift through the beskar. It’s like there is no barrier at all between you, the air thrumming with a longing so great that you feel one with the man crumbling before you. If you're not careful you will fall with him.

“Mando, Plea-se,” You stutter around him, voice shaking more than intended. “I want to f-feel more of you, let me touch you, please-” You squawk, mouth empty when he suddenly rips off the other glove, tossing it behind him before reaching down his torso to pull the hem of his trousers south. You gulp in trepidation, unable to tear your eyes away as enticing dark hair displays itself, leading to the base of his cock. He pauses, but you’re so caught up in discovering him that you don’t notice the tonal shift.

“Before I show you this-” dark words enunciated by palming his cock through the fabric, “I need to know where to put it.”

What kind of question is that? You’re honestly bewildered, mind blank before you realize that the options are overwhelming. In his own way, he is asking you to verbalize consent, which is very much appreciated. You want him in your pussy, to work his way deep in your body and in turn, discover just how human you are... yet… You feel oddly unprepared. It’s not that you don't think you can take him, in fact you can't recall ever being this wet in your life. It’s just… after today… you want to help him unwind but you’re still not fully there. You still want to please him, but you’re not ready to let him know you that way, not until you come back to yourself.

So in that case…

“I want you in my mouth, hunter.”

Mando growls then grabs your wrist, guiding it over the edge of fabric and onto his throbbing length. He shudders while you process the feeling of him. He is thick, the width of his cock so wide that your middle finger and thumb are straining to meet each other. You release him from his pants then try to pull at the hem to wiggle them down his thighs. He obliges and lifts his hips so that you can reveal more delicious olive skin, but he makes no move to assist you with his hands. You get the feeling that he is drinking in your efforts to touch him, the sensation of your jerky movements giving away how much you want him.

You kiss and nibble at every possible moment, one hand drifting lightly over the length of him, twirling at the base dusted with short, dark hairs, cupping his balls then moving back up, your mouth traveling to meet your fingers. Hissing, his hand flashes up to meet the back of your head, fingers tangling in strands to tug tightly on your scalp. With a light moan, you tongue along the side of him, teasing hot air more than actually licking him.

“Look at me- fuck - pretty thing, s-so fucking willing for me, I want to see you take my cock as far as you can, s-show me how much you can handle-” He pulls harder at your hair, dragging you roughly enough to control your neck, back up from where you were sucking at his hip to the head of his dick. “Are you going to show me yourself before or after I gag you on it?”

Fuck, you never realized how tantalizing submitting to another person could be, not until that came out of his mouth, rough enough to clip through the modulator. You elect to show him what you can handle. Leaning forward to meet the swollen tip, you part your plush lips and kiss at the drop of precum gathered there, before relaxing your jaw to take him halfway. He groans and nearly doubles over at the sudden sensation, holding you there for a second before you draw back up to spread your saliva more thoroughly. Lips rewet, you sink back down on him, gliding smoothly as you pull his cock deep within your mouth, drinking in his breathy groans.

“Maker, yes … that’s it, fuck-” You attempt to sink even further down on the Mandalorian’s impressive length, but stop short a few inches from his base, blunt head pressing in your throat. “-so good, s-so good for me baby, you look perfect like this.”

He’s so far back inside you that you can’t access your vocal cords to produce any noise at all, otherwise you’d be whining at his praise. Your hands are free to assist you at any time, you could circumvent his daunting length if you wanted help. But you want to impress him. Besides, your palms are warm on his torso, traveling under his shirt to feel the ropes of muscle there. You don’t want to remove them.

You surface to the tip, taking a deep breath in preparation before ducking to take him as deep as you can manage. He watches you, entranced at the sight of a face so lovingly strained to please him. Your gag reflex spasms but you will it away, determined to fully engulf his cock at least once even if you find you’re unable to handle more. The noises rising from your throat are brutal and raw as you choke around him, his helmet blurring when tears fill your eyes. You bob a little then almost give up when the urge to retreat floods your senses but then he starts talking again- so filthy that you can’t stop yet.

“You’re trying so fucking hard, fuck, I love seeing you wrapped around my cock, Maker, you feel so fucking good, I can’t imagine how your little pussy must feel, you’re so warm, so, fu-fuck, tight…” The stream of filth serves as your motivation to bob for as long as possible on his length, throat stretched obscenely around him. You realize hazily that there are tears streaming from your eyes, but the urge to pull off is lost in dizziness as the oxygen in your lungs depletes. You keep going and going, your high at its peak as you recognize that your body is starting to fade in black. You should pull off and breathe, one quick breath is all you need, but the way he’s filling you is more addicting than the purest Spice. He notices when you start to slump into his lap and pulls you up gasping for air.

Nearly fainting never felt so good.

“Shit, are you alright?” You nod and rest your cheek on his thigh, face turned on its side to meet his visor as he spins little circles in your vision. A soothing hand brushes against your cheekbone, tracing a gentle pattern on its height. “You were doing so good for me baby. No need to hurt yourself.” Mando’s voice is still breathless, offering you tenderness through a cloud of stimuli.

“I’m okay- I’m… I just need to catch m-my breath.” You’re still heaving unevenly but you want him so bad, you want him to finish for you, your wants translating into weak pawing at his dick trying to give him more sensation. He catches your wrist with an airy laugh and guides your uncoordinated movements to better stroke him. The sound fills you with light.

“Pretty thing, I know you want me. Try to not die on my dick before I’ve had the chance to feel your cunt.” His hand leaves yours on his length and reaches over your ass to cup the apex of your thighs through your pants. You jerk up and almost crack the crown of your head open on the chin of his beskar but his other palm is pressed between your shoulder blades, keeping you bent over in his lap. A garbled noise tears from you when his index and ring finger spread on either side of your outer lips, allowing his middle finger space to travel up and down your seam, so wet that you can feel the slickness gathering through two layers of fabric onto the tip of his finger.

“Ah, Fuck! Mando, I-I- wait please, please, wait-” He draws his hand up away from your wet center, reaching your asscheek before you yelp and snatch his forearm to stop him from retreating farther. “I s-still wanna, I wanna make you come. You first, before-before me.”

“Baby, you’re… fuck okay. Can I still touch you?” Mando caresses your hip at the fold where it meets your thigh.

“Later, let me d-do this, please.” He allows you to lift his arm from your spine and rest it on the crown of your head as you move forward and try to meet his cock again. Pulling his thighs to the edge of the chair, you settle back on your knees and stroking him one-handed while he hums low in his throat. You wrap your lips around the swollen head, sucking and swirling your tongue before taking him deeper, this time using a palm to stroke the last few inches instead of opening your throat. Starting up a rhythm of bopping and stroking his velvety length that pulls incredible noises out of the Mandalorian, each one going straight to your swollen clit.

Coming up for air you start to jerk him off faster with your slick hand, meeting the T of his visor with your heated gaze, hoping that you are finding his eyes. He must enjoy the sight of you jerking him off because his moans start to tighten, hips thrusting into your palm.

“K-keep fucking doing that, good girl, fuck I-I’m close, where-where do you want it, baby?” You respond by settling low near his thighs, putting his cock above you with your tongue sticking out, wetting the tip while your wrist moves faster. Somehow he’s harder than ever and-

Mando curses through his teeth as his cock convulses, warm spurts of cum painting your tongue, cheeks, and nose bridge, rivers of him flowing down your chin and dribbling on the swell of your chest. He grips the back of your head tight enough to hurt, then rips one hand down to stroke himself, smearing the mess across your features.

The fingers on your scalp loosen then graciously begin rubbing at the base of your neck to soothe the soreness on your head. One of your eyelids is sealed shut due to a rope of his cum crossing from nose to eyebrow, the other eye unfocused, hazy with pleasure as you listen to him come down from his peak. A low noise rises from your throat as he massages your scalp, feeling tingly all over as blood flows back to the area.

“T-Thank you… that was great, I-“ he breaks off when you start to gather his cum off your skin, licking it off your fingers while studying his visor through your lashes. “Hey, let me…”

He surprises you by wiping at your face with his cape, still hanging off the arm of the pilot chair from when you detached it. You giggle, “Is there a way to wash that on here? I can’t even tell if that hole in the wall includes a shower.”

“There’s enough to work with.”

You laugh louder at that, “That’s encouraging. I hope there’s ‘enough to work with’ so that I don’t meet Karga covered in cum.” Pausing to consider your current position, you add, “Actually, that might help my case.”

Face wiped mostly clean, you're able to open both eyes now, taking in his posture. A jolt shoots through you when you realize he’s holding himself differently for some reason, he looks almost predatory but maybe that’s just the effect of Beskar’s harsh angles... Nope, he’s leaning forward now, caging you in again.

“You want to look sexy for Karga?” Gulping, you try to figure out the best response but he continues before your slow-ass mind can catch up, “You’re right, that might help you get better pucks. But I don’t know if I want my hunting partner to be introduced that way. I still need to return the favor…”

He lifts your body with ease, pulling you sideways onto his lap. Mando’s warm hand slides along the bend in your knee, slow and sensual on your body. He caresses you aimlessly, relaxed in the afterglow of cumming so hard. You’re still tightly wound, energy balled in your body as his movements serve to wind you up even more. But he’s not moving any faster so you relax into his broad chest, enjoying the feeling of his bare skin.

Time blurs with your senses. His touch pulls you to a place right out of your daydreams, where everything is draped in velveteen and silk. You’ve honestly forgotten his original goal in the first place, and as his arm begins to drag on its path, it seems like he has too. The stroking on your arm has lowered your arousal to a simmer, leaving you content to stay laying across his lap, the glow of hyperspace streaking over your bodies. All at once, you realize he’s no longer moving over your body, his chest rising and falling deeply against your shoulder.

He’s asleep. Surprise registers sleepily somewhere in your exhausted mind, the realization behind layers of warm fuzz. Didn’t even think he slept.

There’s a full day of travel until you reach Nevarro. Snuggling closer into the warm crook of his neck to resolve to live in this dream for as long as possible. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x reader insert #mando x reader #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin x reader #smut #smut fic #mandalorian smut fanfic #the mandalorian x you #mando x you

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iknowicanbutwhy · 3 years

Text

Heads up we got an

Adult Hikikomori Sunny AU

I've been waiting to find an AU after the neutral end of the Hikikomori route for a while. What happened to Sunny? How did his life go on after that? Did he go to college? Did he get a fulltime job? Did he figure out what he wants in life?

these are all very good questions because literally anything could be the case. So this AU is just gonna be stuck in a hospital setting for a while.

Here's what I got so far:

Past:

Hospital Psychiatrist (practicing? Training?) Doctor Hero

I imagine after Basil's death, Hero would (eventually) turn to learning how to identify and help people with suicidal tendencies, if he's gonna be a doctor anyway.

In a choice between psychologist and psychiatrist, Hero went psychiatrist. Hero's parents would pressure him into getting a more lucrative job. PLUS psychiatrists go to college for 8 years, then take four more of psychiatry residency. Hero might feel just a little more accomplished, just a little better about himself for earning a higher degree, just to reassure himself that he's working hard and doing his best towards helping people.

Hero did extra studying in psychotherapy. He tried doing it at the same time as he did medical college. He's not.. the best at it because of that, for several reasons, but he knows it's better to combine medicine and conversation. When he has his head on straight, he can manage it.

I have.. no idea whether to put Hero into practice or residency. He'd have to be at least around.. 31, if he were in practice. That's a long time to have unresolved trauma. That's a nice hunk of research i gotta do.

That's it that's all for Hero. His goals are set in the present and focused around other people, as per usual.

Sunny is... not doing so well. He lied about going to college when he moved into some hole far away from his mother. He has no reason to get up in the morning when he can just lie around. He doesn't enjoy whatever hobbies he used to have.

He doesn't even know Basil is gone and he's so bad off.

He's honestly convinced himself that he doesn't care about anything. He still cares about people, however. He'd have stayed with his mom and burdened her with himself if he didn't. When they had moved from Faraway, it was to a cheaper, smaller place. That meant Sunny's mom didn't have to work so much. That meant more time with Sunny. He decided it was.. preferable not to stay.

The only times he does anything is when he tries to remember the past and relearn the person he used to be. What did he do? What did he like? He'd play games, and read comics, and would get frustrated? move on to something else when those did nothing for him, searching for.. some feeling to occur. And then he'd question why, why, why.

Why can't he enjoy anything? Why does he want to feel enjoyment? Why can't he just do something and be happy? Why can't he just do nothing and be fine? Why does he need to exist? Why does he want to move? Why does he want, but can never have, can never get by himself?

If there's nothing he can do, then what is he waiting for?

Vague memories would become clearer with introspection, until he would feel something, finally. An old guilt aching from deep inside his bones. A haunting self hatred, ripping away whatever minuscule strength his limbs had to try anything fun. A sense of iron resignation blanketing and anchoring his body, reminding him that it's much too late to try getting up now. Ironically, apathy got him up in the morning, as much as it keeps him from enjoying anything enough to stay up.

He was always a little too thin, but he used to force himself to do things like eat and work enough to survive. Mostly because to sleep means to not have headaches, and to not have headaches means to eat well enough, and to eat well enough means to have food, and to have food means to have money from a job.

But it's not as if he was all too desperate to sleep, anyway. His dreams have stayed the same for years. They're more eventful and colorful than bland reality, but it's a mix of the same thing every day. Staring at the swirling kaleidoscope of his dreams is exactly like observing the same beige ceiling for hours on end, until it all mixes together into the same shade of empty grey.

It probably doesn't help Sunny's mood that he thinks dramatic things like the previous point, just to pass time.

He only got worse once he was forced to move into one of those really bad apartments. You know the ones, with the rusted metal stairs nobody wants to risk their life on, and practically no privacy with four-to-five thin-walled neighboring rooms, and bad heating in one corner of the apartment. But it was cheap. Too bad he had to go up and down the stairs all the time.

He didn't have a problem with them when he just moved in. Generally, the most he notices is starting at the top, teleporting to the bottom, and a slight shaking of his hands that he barely glances at with empty curiosity.

As it is, some part of him knew this was going to happen. That he'd have one of those terribly introspective weeks, when he just so happens to have his new job with a boss ready to fire him and his sullen face and poor (somehow complete neutrality is offensive) attitude. He's emotionally vulnerable, and the memories on top of the stairs are devastating.

A week goes by. He's fired. He doesn't look for another job. He hasn't gone for groceries in a while. He's exhausted.

He was waiting for death, he guesses. He still wants, still feels that urge in the buzzing of his fingertips, the ghost of movement from his limbs, the phantom shiver in his back - the intent of every muscle in his body one after the other pleading with him to move, but never all at once - and Sunny laments that the human body is pretty stupid. Moving wont help. What would he do, make the end come quicker? He's already thrown away too many chances for that.

He'll stop wanting once he's gone. That's what happens when you get what you want, right?

His landlord finds him. He forgot the rent. He's taken to the hospital. Ugh.

Present:

Sunny is stunted and underweight. He wears baggy shirts stuffed into slightly less baggy hoodies, and sweats. Warmth. He couldn't find his hoodie after they took it off to put in an IV on his first trip to the hospital.

Usually nurses do things like bring food to patients, but Sunny only ever interacts with Hero and Hero wants to make sure Sunny is okay anyway. Not that it's much easier for Hero to encourage Sunny to eat.

Sunny stresses Hero the hell out. But Hero kinda missed Sunny, and his depressing and concerning reappearance brings with it a deadpan, world-weary, often childish humor that fails to take anything seriously when everything in Sunny's situation should be taken seriously. It's as much a relief as it is incredibly frustrating. Some days Hero loves it. Some days it makes him angry. Some days it makes him want to cry.

I tried doing research into the conduct Hero should display regarding patients/clients in general but it just. Any professionalism quickly devolves between him and Sunny.

As in, at one point, him and Sunny were whaling on each other about having no lives. Hero felt really bad afterwards; he had no idea what came over him. It was a great way for both of them to let out some hidden frustration, though, and they turned out fine afterwards. They even lowkey pick on each other every now and again.

Sometimes one or the other gets a bit too accurate in their teasing, however.

Psychiatrists are supposed to be able to understand, diagnose, and treat mental, emotional and behavioral disorders. So, if Hero were a completely capable psychiatrist, which he is, he wouldn't break down in front of his client. But Hero's late teenage years are wrought with so much grief and trauma, so to see Sunny and not just another client in this state is.. something i imagine he'd break down about eventually. There's also the fact that Sunny is mostly closed off to any help, which only makes things harder.

Hero is trying his best, but after years of never understanding why Mari died, years of thinking and wondering and second-guessing himself, years of guilt after never visiting Basil before he died, years of doing what he was told was "best" yet failing in what's most important to him (his friends) - his best never feels good enough around Sunny. It feels too little, too late. For this reason, and possibly because even if Hero were able to keep himself together he may just not be the right psychiatrist for Sunny, it would be better for him to find another psychiatrist for Sunny. He won't, though.

Hero really needs some time to himself to just think, or perhaps he needs someone else to talk to. Kel is nice, but Aubrey would have better experience handling emotions.

I have a very limited idea of what Aubrey and Kel are doing. Aubrey is a childcare instructor to parents and works in child services. She has studied child psychology. She has studied how childhood affects adulthood. Kel's off trying to make a name in basketball while giving kids high fives and heartfelt support.

Hero, in fact, does not like to be called Dr. Hero, but his shyness (feeling of unworthiness) about it only endears everyone to call him that more. He tells the kids that everyone calls him Hero, but the adults merely find out from the other doctors and nurses. Hero tried introducing himself as Henry to the other doctors, but Kel told them his nickname, and it stuck for obvious reasons.

Sometimes, on days when Hero has to wear his lab coat, he ties it around his neck like a cape. The kids like it, say it makes him look like a superHero.

Hero doesn't really cook. His schedule is always too busy to make anything that isn't quick. But he does eventually figure out that cooking for Sunny is the best way to entice him to eat, so when he makes something, he makes enough for both of them. They eat together.

Hero had to gather Sunny's change of clothes from his apartment when he found out that the reason Sunny has been in the same clothes for the last week is because he's had no one to visit him. Not even his mother. Why?

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palaugranetes · 4 years

Text

🔵BLAUGRANETS🔴

Carlitos: yo my dudes

.........

Carlitos: Hellooooo

Ansu: yo

Carlitos: Not you

Ansu: Rude..

Ansu: it's on me though.. for being nice. I should have let you be ignored.

Ansu: Enjoy having no one to talk to.

Carlitos: 😒😒😒

Carlitos: I just meant the ones who had the talk with Leo.

Ansu: I was there too you idiot

Carlitos: So what did he want???

Ansu: What makes you think I'm going to tell you after your rude behavior?!

Riqui: Children I swear. Can you at least pretend to be adults?!

Carlitos: Would someone just tell me what Leo said!?

Riqui: Sure yeah I'll tell you.

......

Carlitos: DUDE

Riqui: Sorry.. I was distracted

Carlitos: Let me guess.. Tiktok

Riqui: uh no..

Pedri: He was freaking out about Leo

Carlitos: 😥 What about Leo?!? WHAT DID HE TELL YOU GUYS?! SOMEONE SPEAK

Francisco: It was...

Dembz: Right?!

Arnau: I just..

Carlitos: FORMULATE PROPER SENTENSES YOU JERKS!!!!

Ansu: ouff

JC: Umm.. what?

Carlitos: EXACTLY

JC: I'm so confused right now

Dembz: Right now?

JC: shut up

Oscar: Are you gonna do it now @Riqui ?? 🤔🤔

Riqui: Dude I have no idea....

Sergiño: Bro take a breath and do it.

Pedri: Just go ahead man, it's not that difficult.

Riqui: SAYS YOU!

Pedri: I did.. now do it.

Frenkie: Sooner or later Riqui you're gonna do it.. so why later rather than now?

Riqui: Thanks

Ronald: Want me to do it?

Riqui: I can do it. I am not handing the admin-ship to any of you clowns.

Carlitos: WILL SOMEONE JUST TELL ME WHAT IS HAPPENING!!!

Iñaki: Sucks doesn't it

Carlitos: What does?

Sergiño: 😂😂

Pedri: Put Curly out of his misery bro

Sergiño: Okay Riqui come on

Carlitos: 😒😒😒😒😒😒😒

Iñaki: Payback is a bitch

Ansu: So...

Riqui: Promise you will behave!!

JC: When have we ever not behaved!!

Dembz: It hurts me that you would say that

Ronald: you two especially.

Ansu: 😂

Ronald: You're not excluded

Francisco: 🤭🤭🤭🤭

Riqui: Here goes

Carlitos: 😩😩

Pedri: 😬😬

Riqui added Leo👑

........

Leo👑: Well I expected more activity here. Is it always this quiet??

Leo👑: Hey guys

Ronald: Hi Capi! Welcome to the group!

Ronald: Not really.. It's never ever quiet.

Ronald: It's both refreshing and unsettling

Francisco: Hi Capi!!

Francisco: Welcome!

Dembz: Salut @Leo👑!!

Ronald: Here they are

Sergiño: Hello Cap!!

Leo👑: So who again is in this thing?

Pedri: Basically all the 1996 and under.

Pedri: Hi Leo! 💙❤

Leo👑: I see.

Riqui: Welcome to our club within the Club Leo.

Leo👑: Thank you.

Riqui: Stay as long as you want.

Oscar: Preferably for as long as possible please.

Riqui: I meant here Oscar. But yes definitely.

Leo👑: Hahaha alright

Pedri: Please

Leo👑: It'll just be a short stance for me here. But thank you @Riqui

Iñaki: Better it be short here than the Club.

Leo👑: It came close kid, but this is home.

Arnau: 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Carlitos: HOLY SHIT

Carlitos:🤭🤭🤭

Carlitos: Sorry.. But of all the things I expected, this was not it.

Leo👑: 😂

Leo👑: So guys, real talk now

Leo👑: I asked Riqui to add me here for 2 reasons.

Leo👑: I just wanted to collectively once and for all say that I am proud of all of you. I know it must be difficult to not always be starting or to just barely play. It sucks. But I feel a few months from now things will change.

Riqui: Are you going to vote?

Leo👑: I don't know kid, not sure.

Carlitos: As long as you are here we will be alright.

Leo👑: Thanks rizos.

Oscar: 💙❤💙❤💙❤💙❤

JC: OH MY GOD

JC: Is this real?

JC: 😱😱

Ansu: Bro calm down!

Ansu: Welcome Leo!!

Leo👑: How is your knee kiddo?

Ansu: Better and better

Leo👑: 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻

Frenkie: "Leo👑: I just wanted to collectively once and for all say that I am proud of all of you for your professionalism, dedication and progress. I know it must be difficult to not always be starting or to just barely play. It sucks. But I feel a few months from now things will change." 👑💙❤💙❤

Frenkie: And the 2nd reason?

Iñaki: Did you by any chance have a talk with Geri?

Leo👑: I did. I'm sorry I couldn't have been of more help.

Leo👑: He is as stubborn as a mule.

Iñaki: Do you have any clue of what he is planning to do?

Leo👑: In my experience with dealing with Geri, I just don't.

Leo👑: I have seen too many things happen to Luis I wouldn't be surprised if he repeats.

JC: Um.. Question

JC: I heard Neymar got his even when he was all the way in France?

Leo👑: True

JC: Well fuck

Leo👑: Who exactly is under threat here?

Iñaki: Me

Leo👑: Well this is the plot twist of all plot twists!

Leo👑: Why???

Iñaki: tagged by association. I was standing next to these clowns @Riqui @Carlitos

Leo👑: Oh

Ansu: I was pardoned.

Leo👑: 😂

JC: Me.....

Dembz: I am too

Riqui: 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ Me

Carlitos: And me.. 🙄

Arnau: 😂

Oscar: How long do these things go @Leo👑

Ronald: I don't think Iñaki can take more stress.

Sergiño: Do you think anyone else knows about this @Leo👑?

Leo👑: About what?

Sergiño: Geri and the guys.

Leo👑: Busi and I had a vague idea.

Leo👑: I don't think the others know.

Pedri: Is it true he stole your clothes once?

Leo👑: Yes, when we were La Masia

Francisco: How did Luis escape?

Leo👑: Who said he has😂

Carlitos: What do you suggest we do?

Leo👑: How did @Ansu get out of it?

Riqui: He assisted his goal😒😒😒

Ansu: Hey.. It's not my fault.

Leo👑: True, it's Ronald's

Ronald: Me?! What did I do??

Frenkie: 🤭🤭

Oscar: 🙄

Leo👑: No no.. not you

Ronald: Oh right..

JC: But it's not fair.

Leo👑: How did you get involved in this from all the way over there!?

JC: I wish I knew

Dembz: Spend a few hours with him Leo, you'll see why

JC: I blame Sam

Dembz: No one to blame but yourself.

Iñaki: Do you think if I went to Geri and asked him to just get his thing over with, he will do it?

Leo👑: Doubt it, he goes at his own pace. But give it a shot. Nothing to lose.

Iñaki: Nothing except my dignity.

Leo👑: 😐

Carlitos: I have a question.. curiosity..

Leo👑: Shoot

Carlitos: Are Luis and Ivan still in the other side chat?

Leo👑: Which?

Carlitos: How many are there!?

Leo👑: 2

Carlitos: Which one has Puyi?

Leo👑: Ah.. yes they are.

Carlitos: Ah.. cool cool.

Riqui: What is the other one??

Leo👑: 😏😏

Pedri: Are you going to tell Geri or the guys about this?

Oscar: Very important question

Leo👑: Nope. Your secret is safe with me

Riqui: 💙💙💙💙💙💙🍿

Riqui: 💙*

Leo👑: Any other questions?

Francisco: I got nothing

JC: Pray for us

Leo👑: 😂 okay

Leo👑: And @Carlitos best of luck in Madrid. And take care of yourself

Carlitos: 💙❤👑 will do.

Leo👑: Alright guys.. this was fun. But I'm gonna go now.

Riqui: Come back whenever. I'll send you a link.

Pedri: Or just stay😊

Leo👑: No.. this is your space. Have fun in it

Frenkie: Like Riqui said, come back whenever.

Leo👑: We will see what happens

Sergiño: Thanks Leo

Francisco: 🙌🏻🙌🏻🙌🏻👑

Ansu: 💙❤

Leo👑: Okay guys... See you in training tomorrow. ✌🏻💙❤

Ronald: 💙❤🙌🏻✌🏻

Leo👑 Left

Arnau: I know this is just a gc.. but this hurt.

Pedri: Gosh.. the horror of those words together!!😣😣😣😣

Ronald: Horrific. Truly.

Ronald: Leo .. come back.. it was so peaceful here..

Francisco: 😂😂😂

Frenkie: Everyone froze

Oscar: By everyone you mean the Trio from hell?

Arnau: And tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum

Iñaki: 😂

Sergiño: That's cold dude

JC: Ha Ha Ha

Ansu: 🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿🖕🏿

Dembz: 😒😒😒😒

Riqui: oh shut up

Carlitos: 🤬🤬🤬

Oscar: It's like they're a package deal

Pedri: Guys.. What did you do??

Riqui: 🤨🤨🤨

Ansu: Be more specific

Pedri: Geri just sent me a voice note?!?!?!?!

Pedri: WHAT

Pedri: oh.. 🤭

Carlitos: Boy spit it out

Ansu: How long is that voice note

Sergiño: might as well have called him

Francisco: Right?!

Carlitos: SPEAK!!!

Pedri: So um.. Geri said "if your not yet fully developed brains have not figured out the riddle, let me make it easier for you. JCCDR in that order"

JC: Fuck me..

Carlitos: 😩

Dembz: 🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️🤦🏿‍♂️

Riqui: Oh brother

Iñaki: Wait.. there is no I...

Francisco: You are free!

Iñaki: Am I? AM I?

Oscar: I think you are

Sergiño: So it seems dude

Iñaki: This seems to good to be true

Ronald: It looks like it bro

Iñaki: WHY IS THIS EVEN MORE STRESSFUL?!

Ansu: 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

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yanano-hiresei · 3 years

Text

Summary: An Alternate Universe where Bakugou doesn't want to be a hero, but was was forced by Deku to attend at UA. On the first day of school something unexpected happens. Turns out, if you're the last one standing, you'll be the number one student of UA. Everyone excluding the 3rd years go againts each other to be at the top, while Deku and Bakugou find ways to survive without any casualties.

Besides all of this, the question stays. Who created this ridiculous predicament at UA?

Chapter 1: It's just the first Day of school, and now this?!

Making his way to the classroom took a lot more effort than he initially thought. Head down, eyes trained on the floor, and carefully maneuvering his way through the crowd of students while avoiding attention— Bakugou tries his best to go through the day unnoticed.

Someone grabs him by the shoulder. The force makes him face the person behind him— someone he knows quite well.

"Deku... There you are." It was his childhood friend.

"Is everything okay? I've been calling your name so many times. I had to run towards you just to get your attention."

"Sorry, I was just thinking about something."

Deku watches his friend, worried. "What were you thinking about?"

"Isn't it obvious! We made a bet remember!" Bakugo lashes out, his hands balling into fists.

"Oh that.. You're right..." Deku recalls, scratching the back of his head. "But I don't see why would that be a problem. You passed the exams! You should be happy!"

Deku takes out his watch before looking around the hallway and grabbing Bakugou's hand. "Come on, let's go. It's the first day of school! We should at least hurry to our classroom!"

Before Bakugou could protest, Deku was dragging him to their classroom. The green haired lad excitedly opened the door, only to be greeted by a room filled with empty seats.

"What? Where are they?" Bakugou steps inside, looking around. "Did you bring us to the wrong classroom or something?"

"No.. I'm certain this is Class 1-A." Deku replies as he checks the sign outside the door. Sure enough, they were in the right room.

"Well—" Bakugou gets cut off when the school bell chimes. Three bells, an indication of an announcement.

Not too long, a female's voice sounds from the speakers.

"Attention all students, please head to the auditorium for an announcement!"

"An announcement? What could it be Kacchan?" Deku turns to his friend, a mix of confusion and curiosity present on his face.

"Who knows. Let's go before we miss anything."

It wasn't easy getting into the auditorium with all the students flooding in at once. It took a whole few minutes of squeezing into the crowd to finally reach their post.

A student walks towards the center of the stage, holding a microphone in his hand. Face filled with confidence, he taps the microphone two times before speaking.

"Greetings! First of all, I'd like to thank everyone for gathering here today." The young man starts, "My name is Shoto Todoroki, and as you all know I'm the son of the number two hero, Endeavor. I'm here to announce a challenge that will change everything this school year!"

Bakugou could hear other students whispering on the sides.

"A challenge, what does he mean by that?"

"I don't know, but this better be good."

"As you all know, we students dream to become one of the pros— to be in the top 10. That's why we're here at UA, the top Hero Academy in Japan! And with this challenge, we can reach that dream and take it even higher!" The student, Todoroki, exclaims, his fist pounding in the air.

"One of you— that's right— the one with the best, strongest, flashiest quirk will become the number one student of this academy! Well, excluding the 3rd years. The benefits of becoming the number student are endless! You could be one of the top 3 students, and train with the best heroes outside of japan!" Todoroki continues.

"So more island hopping?" A second year student asks, raising their hand.

"Yes, being the number one will focus only on your training to be a hero. There would no longer be a need to study or take the elevator exams."

The students stir with his announcement, and Todoroki uses this chance to further encourage them. "Now tell me this, are you capable of fighting your friends, classmates for this one of a kind opportunity? Let's set aside all emotions and strive towards our goal! So what are you waiting for? Are you just going to stand there doing nothing? Or are you going to give it your all and fight to be the best?!"

The auditorium falls silent.

"But what about the other classes who aren't suited to fight, like the General, Support, or Management?" Another student asks.

Todoroki lets out a loud sigh, answering the query. "The General can join in if they wish. Support can help the ones who are fighting. And the Department of Management— eh, can do whatever they want." He shrugs.

At the back of the crowd, a first year with glasses shouts. "But where are we going to fight? We're using our quirks right? If we're going all out, non participants might get disturbed or worse, get caught up with the fight!"

Todoroki nods. "Good question. Rules regarding the venues of the event will be explained soon."

"But what about our hero costumes? They're not finished yet!" Another first year asks.

"You have your PE uniforms." Todoroki says before remembering an important detail of his announcement. "As for property damages within school campus, there is no need for worry. I'll be handling all expenses."

He brings his hands out for a around of applause. "Alright, The rules will be delivered at the end of today's classes. The challenge will start tomorrow. And for all non-participants, the third years will act as your escorts for the time being. That wraps up this morning's announcement. I wish everyone good luck and may the strongest student win!"

Todoroki drops his mic and quickly exits the stage. As soon as he's gone, the atmosphere starts to liven up.

_____________________________________________

Todoroki was exhausted, he didn't think this through. He didn't take into account that there were others who had no desire to participate. "I should ask Yaoyorozu about this—"

"Oh? Is this perhaps Shoto Todoroki I'm seeing?" Someone greets him with a cheerful tone

Todoroki snaps, turning to the sound of the voice. Upon looking, he sees a group of three students walking towards him.

"Wow, I'm amazed. This year's students are pretty energetic!" One of the students chuckles.

"Well, atleast it's a change of pace, unlike last year..."

"True. I can't believe principal Nezu agreed to this. It's exciting but tiring at the same time. Dragging alot of students into this, it's kind of a risk to them don't you think, Mirio?"

"Mirio?" Todoroki paused, realizing the name she spoke was—

"Ah, Todoroki Shoto right? Bold of you to propose a challenge without thinking there wouldn't be casualties."

Shoto's eyes widen as he stumbles back. "M-Mirio Togata!"

"Oh sorry, forgot to introduce myself. I guess you already know who I am, huh? Nice to meet you, Todoroki!"

"Oh, uh— Oh! I guess it's my turn next." said the girl next to him, "My name is Nejire Hado, and the guy on the left is Tamaki Amajiki!"

"The big three.." Todoroki composes himself. "Were you here to see me?"

"Yeah. Since you did announce to the whole school, why wouldn't we?" Nejire chuckles.

"The teachers haven't arrived yet so we're here to look after the school while they're not around." Tamaki says, facing away from Todoroki.

Todoroki sighs. "I see... And yes, you're right senpai. I should've thought this through. I got so excited that I forgot about the safety of others"

Mirio approaches Todoroki, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Don't worry Todoroki, we'll help you! We are your senpais after all. And it's already been decided, we'll take care of the non-participants as well as the injured. All you gotta do is take charge of the battles."

"As for the organization of the fights.. We'll have to come up of a plan to reassure the other students' safety tomorrow." Tamaki adds.

Todoroki felt guilty that his senpais had to help him with all of his problems— thinking about how dumb he was for going through with the idea without a proper plan. "I'm sorry you had to help me. I should've thought this through..."

"Well your father and Principal Nezu did agree to this without telling you the consequences, or perhaps they're testing you?" Nejire eyes Todoroki, examining him.

"Why would would they want to test me?"

"Who knows, you ask them."

"Well would ya look at the time! It was nice meeting you Todoroki, and next time we meet, plan first before you act on anything." Mirio tells him, smiling as the three make their way to the exit.

"Yes, I will senpai." Todoroki nods, watching them go.

"Aww, we're leaving already? I haven't gotten the chance to ask him some questions yet." Nejire says, feeling disappointed.

"It was nice meeting you Todoroki, see you!" Nejire adds, bidding farewell.

"Ah- Goodbye senpai!"

The three waved at Todoroki and left, leaving him alone again.

Todoroki leaned on the wall, sighing in exhaustion.

"I could really use some tea right about now. Yaoyorozu's on the top floor..." He shrugs. "I'll just take the elevator."

_____________________________________________

After the announcement at the auditorium, Bakugou and Deku went back to the classroom for a breather.

"Damn, staying at the auditorium packed with a lot of people really is a nightmare." Bakugou says as he stretches his arms.

Deku agrees whilst cracking his knuckles. "The announcement came out of nowhere too. And not just that, all of the teachers and staff are gone."

Bakugou takes his seat on the chair next to where Deku stood, thinking about what he said. "And that Todoroki guy, what's he planning to do with this challenge of his? He could've just waited until the Sports Festival. This whole challenge thing doesn't make any sense."

"He must've been really excited. A lot of students would want to join in."

"Well, I know I don't."

Deku stops, looking at Bakugou worriedly. "You.. Aren't?"

"What, is there something wrong about that?" Bakugou glares at Deku, causing the latter to avoid eye contact.

"I just thought that, you know.. You were okay with using your quirk now.."

Bakugou blinks. "I am. I don't see why that has anything to do with the challenge."

"Well.. I thought you would want to join since it's a challenge and all." Deku says in a quiet voice, his hands fidgeting.

"Join the challenge?" Bakugou scoffs. "There's no way I'm doing that. Not when I can possibly harm others."

Deku stares down at his friend. "Then what are you gonna do when a villain attacks?"

"Deku.. That's not it."

"Kacchan did you forget? We're at UA. If you can't use your quirk, how are you going to be a hero?"

"(Kacchan, Promise me that in the future the two of us will be heroes.)"

"(Of course, we'll be the best heroes. I'm obviously going to be number one!)"

"(No way, Kacchan. I'm going to be number one!)"

"(Ha! You wish!.)"

"Can't be a hero without using my quirk huh?" Bakugou smirks. "Then I'll just have to change that."

"You're gonna.. What?"

"I'm gonna enter the challenge and win without my quirk."

this is my first fanfic so I dont know what I'm doing haha

#bnha #bakudeku #bnha au #mha fanart #mha fanfiction #bnha deku #bnha bakugou #bnha todoroki #shoto todoroki #momo yaoyozoru

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i-lov-them-beans · 5 years

Text

Theories: Colour Wheel and the Orange Side

Ok, so, we have the colour wheel theory. It's essentially been confirmed now by the new flower T-shirt design that it's real, and specifically the T-shirt seems to confirm there'll be only one more side, which is the orange side. I'm not gonna mention the T-shirt again throughout the rest of this, it's just that's what kicked me off to finally write this lol.

The premise of the colour wheel theory, of course, is that each side corresponds to a colour, and the sides can be grouped into pairs that are both opposite in terms of what aspect they represent, and also opposite colours. That's all dandy and nice, right? But alas! There are some problems with the theory, aren't there? Namely, with people disagreeing on who should be paired with who.

For example, one popular take is that Deceit is Patton's opposite. The reasoning being that while Patton represents morality, Deceit is often seen as being not very moral. Patton strongly supports honesty, while Deceit is literally Deceit.

However, other people say that Deceit is actually Logan's opposite. Due to the fact that in lying, Deceit goes against facts, which would seem to go against Logan represents.

So? What version of the theory is right then? I have read so many colour wheel theory posts, each arguing a different way, and they pretty much ALL seem to make good points. They all seem as reasonable as each other. I would have no idea how to tell which one seemed more accurate than the another.

Which is the problem. There's no actual clear way to cut them up into one single system of opposites - there's too many different possibilities for there to be one unanimous theory based on opposites.

Not to mention that there's stretching going on with all of them with what colour they are in order to fit them as opposite colours, or sometimes just straight up ignoring opposite colours (as with versions that put Virgil as opposite of Logan or Patton) making it even more difficult to figure out which one makes the most sense.

Which is why I have a new, slightly altered theory:

The sides can still be grouped into pairs. But instead of opposites, the pairs are based on compliments. I.e., pairs of sides whose functions are similar and could work together. Since opposite colours are also called complimentary colours, this still works thematically with the colour wheel theory.

Specifically, I was thinking that the sides would be paired based on them being two versions of essentially the same aspect, except where one is [viewed by Thomas as] immoral, and the other is not immoral. I also found that with this system the sides fit perfectly into sets of opposites colours.

So, who goes with who now?

Well, the obvious place to start is with Roman and Remus. The two are already in canon posed as being two halves of the same side, with one being good and the other bad. Specifically, Remus represents a part of creativity which Thomas is concerned would be harmful to the world, henceforth immoral, whereas Roman's creativity Thomas has no moral qualms with. Their colours are the complimentary colours red and green, of course.

Next I would argue that Virgil and Deceit are compliments. Aside from the fact that they obviously have history, Virgil's job is to protect Thomas, as we all know. Deceit, regardless of how you feel about him, mainly represents self-preservation, as any sympathetic-Deceit fan will tell you. Especially with him using lying to achieve that goal, Deceit's aspect is definitely about protecting Thomas too. The difference? Thomas finds Deceit morally reprehensible, whereas Virgil, although not exactly an enjoyable side to experience, is not exactly doing anything immoral. Their colours? Purple and yellow, exact opposites. Next.

So now we come to the final pair, which by colours is Patton and Orange. Which means we have to go into my theory about what the Orange side represents. So, who's the Orange side?

I think Orange is Anger. I first started thinking about anger being represented in the series last year, while I was headcanoning about Patton. I was thinking about how, since he represents emotions, that must mean he includes anger; I was thinking how it would be interesting to see that in Patton since we never normally see him like that (I like seeing stuff we don't normally see in characters). It didn't occur to me back then that anger could be represented by a separate side, because since it's an emotion, I assumed it had to be represented by Patton. But then: Remus was introduced. Dun dun dun. Literally another version of an aspect we already have a side for. And later, when I saw other people talking about how Orange could be anger, it clicked: Anger could be a separate, dark side the same way Remus is. So my main reason for theorising Orange as Anger.

Other reasons why Orange would be anger is that A. Orange is an angry colour (I've always associated it with annoyance and frustration), and B. Someone suggested a theory that all the dark sides were hinted in the Christmas video. Deceit's hint was first and I can't remember it but I'm p sure it did make sense, Remus' was second and was the "Naked Aunt Patty" line, which was literally referenced in Remus' song sequence in DWIT. And the third hint that this theory proposed was in the episode's conclusion, when Thomas says "that's never constructive. that's destructive" and then pauses weirdly, and the idea was that the next side has something to do with destruction. If this Christmas hint theory is true, then "destruction" fits quite neatly with anger.

So, Orange is Anger and I've already linked him to Patton in the previous paragraph, but let's just tidy up the loose ends. I can definitely see how Anger can be seen as an immoral emotion, especially from Thomas' POV, he tries not to get angry at people. Whereas the emotions Patton represents Thomas doesn't see as immoral. Even sadness and depression, although unpleasant to experience, just like with Virgil they're not immoral. However there's also the fact that Patton represents morality itself. Obviously, that's not gonna be immoral. How does Orange tie into that as an "immoral morality" though? Well, Anger can be a part of morality. Have you ever seen something absolutely awful, and gotten angry that that's happening? Of course you have, you're on tumblr (lol). Just look at any activism; although yes, inherently it's driven by a desire to make the world a better place, I would say a large portion of activism is also driven specifically by anger. It's a special kind of anger you feel, as an activist, too. Idk exactly how to describe it. But activism, morality and anger are definitely intertwined. And to top it all off? Mid-orange and light blue are slap-bang opposites of eachother. Thank you. *drops mic*

"But, wait a minute-" I hear you ask, as I'm already bending down to pick the mic back up cause I wasn't finished talking yet anyway- "where's Logan in all this? You're phrasing it like it's a perfect theory, yet you haven't even mentioned Logan!"

...Well I'm glad you asked, tumblr user ipissmypantsdaily*!

*if there is actually a tumblr user called that and they see this, hi, I hope you're not even in the TS fandom so this joke is even more stupid. Idk how you would have found this post though *shrugs*

Actually it's not that exciting. In my theory Logan doesn't have a pair. The main reason is literally just that there's no one left to pair him with and all the others work too perfectly to rearrange them lol. However, my explanation is that he wouldn't fit in a pair anyway: he's a fairly morally neutral side. He provides logic, which can reach morally good or bad conclusions, curiosity, which could be curiosity in anything (Intrulogical much?) (although it seems it's mostly harmless in Thomas' case), and apathy, which seems to be in the form of disinterest (that's the one where someone provides a neutral, unbiased third-party opinion) mainly. Obviously, Thomas tried to use him for good, but ultimately he seems like a fairly neutral/morally mixed side.

Anyway, that's my current hypothesis on Sanders Sides. I'm really proud of it, I was really excited when I thought it all up. I hope you enjoyed it! To round it all up, here's an actual colour wheel with the sides' names on it:

Something I didn't even realise til making that actually, is that all the pairs are really equally spread across the colour wheel, too. Nice.

Someone's probably going to find a million and one problems with it as soon as I post this, but oh well. That happens I guess, lol

uhhh... bye 👋

#rat’s posts #ts sides #sanders sides #ts theories #ts predictions #sanders sides theories #orange sanders #orange side #ts orange #color wheel theory #ts color wheel theory #sanders sides color wheel theory #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders

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ardalionandnatalia · 7 years

Conversation

Ardalion and Natalia (X)

Katya is awakening now.

Katya just had a dream about the first time she and Kuzma came together.

She blinks as she wakes up and realizes she is not with Kuzma any longer.

Having entered the temple with her bundles of sheaves, herbs and flowers, Natalia is led to bathe and purify herself. She does so, and then seeks Katya in the woman's assigned chambers.

She sighs, feeling cold and sad as she remembered what had happened to her.

Had she really died, though, she wondered? She did not recall dying. She had only assumed she was dead after talking to Sam and the others.

She see Katya sleeping, now stirring. She kneels down beside her bedside and awaits for her to wake fully.

Katya: Natalia?

Folding her hands in her lap, Natalia poses still. Hearing her name uttered, she raises slightly, nearing Katya now, over her bed.

Natalia: Are you awake now? *gently draws back the covers and helps Katya sit up in bed*

Katya: yes, I am fine. Thank you for attending to me. What will happen next?

Natalia: *bows head in respectful deference, since Iole tasked her with serving Katya and preparing her for tomorrow* Iole and the other oracles are in the midst of final preparations and prayers to appeal for the forecast tomorrow. Iole has asked me to guide you through the final preparations you and I must undergo, since I am to be your companion when we traverse down into the inner core of the temple, beneath the ground. Today, you must be dressed and taught how to offer offerings to ensure you are answered.

Katya: I see. Thank you for guiding me. Are we heading out now to the core of the temple?

Natalia: No, not yet- we need to dress and prepare our garments before we are summoned by the oracles. It's not tomorrow yet. We have many things to do today. *offers Katya her hand, though wonders if Katya will be alarmed by her own boniness and claws. Ardalion's words still gnaw on her about bodies and such.*

Katya does not seem phased and takes her hand.

She is careful not to touch the claws, but does not seem to really care.

Natalia notices that Katya's forearms have some small scars on them from the years of working at the factory.

Surprised by her acceptance, Natalia glances down at their hands, and in the growing light of the sunlight shafting through, she notices the fine, pale scars lining and splotching Katya's arms. Natalia realizes Katya has lived a hard live and is determined to make this new life easier for her. She feels a swell of sympathy for the composed woman before her.*

Katya looks at her curiously, but does not indicate any other emotions otherwise.

Katya: You seem to be very curious about me.

Natalia: Let's go to the outer hall- we have better lighting, and we can prepare our garments and headdresses for tomorrow. I'll show you yours, as I'll be making it for you. Yes, you do elicit my curiosity- you're from another land, another people. I'm curious, especially since you are from the future, at least to me. You're two centuries beyond me. Come, let's go to the outer hall. The sun shining and there's a nice breeze.

Katya: Ardalion is also from my time and my country. I see you have been talking to him a lot. How do you find him...?

Natalia: I found him, along with another man, a man from England, who disappeared. Ardalion developed an altered form with powers, and we slain a trio of monsters together. He is a vain creature, fueled by the basest. I dislike him now and do not wish to speak to him. He is amusing with his ideas, he fancies himself some sort of philsopher, but he is like some upstart who thinks they're another Descartes or Prometheus because they read a few books or get promoted in their trades.

Katya: ...I see.

Katya bows her head.

Katya: You dislike Ardalion?

Natalia: I do- what of it? Let's focus on you and your goal here. Enough talk of him. Or the men here.

Katya: I don't truly dislike him. I still like him somewhat, to be honest. He is a charming man. My goal here is to see the vision to see my husband again, right? Well, this is related. My husband and Ardalion actually share my traits in common. Perhaps this is why I can't dislike Ardalion entirely, still, after all that has happened.

Natalia: Charming? I suppose he can be. But he's a lewd brute as well. Let's focus on your husband. And your baby.

I know what you mean, though. About not hating someone entirely. I and my mother... well.... it is complicated. She and I were as complex at the Gordian knot. And it seems we tied that knot between ourselves, equally at fault.

Katya's mouth tightens.

Katya: Indeed, things can be like that sometimes. Shall we progress with the ritual now? One more thing. Lewdness is not necessarily a bad thing. Or perhaps I'm wording it wrongfully.

Katya frowns.

Katya: I'm not good at expressing myself sometimes. I wasn't that well educated, unlike Ardalion and my husband.

Natalia: *nods, and leads Katya to a low-legged table, laden with a cloth, on top of which are bundles of herbs and fresh flowers, plus ripened wheat sheaves and fresh, supple sprigs* Education can only do so much- I too am educated, yet I fail at being gentle and kind. It's hard for me to make friends or be liked.

Katya: Emotional expression plays a large role in getting people to like you.

Natalia: It's better to be a better person, than have all the education in the world. Better to be enlightened, than scholarly.

Katya: There is nothing wrong with being scholarly though. *she frowns, hating herself for being a peasant*

Natalia: Yes, you are right. And I have a bad temper, as you might see in the future, Katya. You should be warned.

Katya: Enlightenment doesn't always come to the blind who have blind faith.

Natalia: Scholars can solve problems, but never themselves.

Katya: one must learn about the world with open eyes and not rely on blind faith as the uneducated are wont to do. My husband is a scholar.

Natalia: Perhaps. Enlightenment is a choice. Arrogance can barricade a person from choosing enlightenment. It demands humility at times. Then he is fortunate to have you, then.

Katya: and ignorance often means succumbing to drunkenness and abuse. I've seen it all.

Natalia: I lived among the educated- drunkenness and abuse are in all people.

Katya: You and I are from different cultures, different times. Where you come from, it seems like the women, in particular, act very differently. The way you talk about your mother...

Natalia: My mother, despite being the most educated and refined lady of the highest breeding, was a cruel soul. She was violent, too. She killed my father when he became blind after an accident.

Katya: It is not common where I come from for a woman to act like that.

Katya bites her lip again.

Natalia: Let's forget the past, and focus on what's before us. You want to see your husband and child again, do you not?

Katya: Yes.

Natalia: I am fortunate fate gave me another mother in Iole, though I respect her enough not to call her so.

Katya: I don't need a mother.

Natalia: Let me show your headdress, it's different from mine and the others.

Katya: I am glad you have found one though.

Natalia: But I do. So let's focus on our task at hand.

Katya: You like to talk back a lot, don't you?

Her tone is not angry or reproachful, merely curious. She's never talked with someone who replies like this before.

Natalia: Yes. What of it? Does it displease you that I do?

Katya: Most people I know would have just ended the conversation just then. No, it's just peculiar. And makes me wonder if I have angered you with my different opinions. I personally don't like talking back, so maybe that is why I thought for a while you were angry at me.

Natalia: *softens and lowers sharpened guard down* We are different, for sure, Katya. I hope I have not angered you, or given you offense. *grows thoughtful* I guess I talk back because I felt a need to talk back. Like if I didn't talk back, I'd have no power, and others could demean me, or overpower me. I like to voice what I think and feel, because for so long, I was forbidden to do so. Why do you dislike talking back? You are shy, I think?

Katya looks away.

Katya: I want to avoid conflict at all means. I don't mean to disturb you. Let's just go back to the task at hand.

Natalia: You should not be afraid, now that you're in this new world. You don't have to worry about the conflict being bold would have had in your life and world. *picks up the sheaves and supple, green sprigs to make Katya's headdress*

Katya doesn't respond. She doesn't quite appreciate Natalia lecturing her, however, and thinks that people should just agree to disagree. She dislikes the idea of talking back just for the sake of it, particularly to a stranger like Natalia.

Katya: Thank you for helping me out again.

Katya: *to herself* I'm bold in my own way. Who does this person think she is, lecturing me? She doesn't know anything about me and assumed I was even shy. If I wasn't bold, how would I not have made the connections I did with Galkin? I would not have gotten close to Kuzma if I was not bold, either. It took guts for me to find and approach him again, for me to start our relationship!

Natalia: *glances at Katya sideways and senses her inner annoyance. Natalia regrets her brash assumptions and how she paraded them before Katya. She attempts to reconcile*

Natalia: You

Katya thinks she'll never see Natalia again anyways, so what is the point of thinking so much about this?

Katya doesn't say anything and stares straight ahead.

Katya: Is something the matter?

Natalia: You're irked by what I said, are you not? I'm sorry. I assumed too much. In truth, I do not know you, so I can't understand you entirely, and what you do, and how you act.

Natalia: Forgive me.

Katya: I am not angry with you. Please proceed.

Katya closes her eyes, hiding a dismissive look away from Natalia.

Katya: *to herself* and this is why I usually don't have female friends. They assume too much and they think they can tell you all of these things on a first meeting.

Katya thinks it's a great irony that she was thrown into this mostly female world and the only two males here are Ardalion and Sam of all people.

Natalia: *opens her mouth as though she desires to pursues this matter further, but seeing Katya's dismissive look, feels piqued and meek. Hangs her head slightly, wanting to withdraw a bit. She has driven away yet another, and she regrets it was a newcomer as Katya is.*

Katya has not really given Natalia much thought as she thinks about Sam and how humorous he is.

Natalia: No, we have to prepare here. *grows a bit pensive. She senses Katya dislikes her company.* *bites her lip down, not wanting to fail Iole and vex Katya any further*

Katya: What do we do to prepare?

Natalia: *begins picking up the sheaves and sprigs, now bending the supple, tender sprigs into a U-shape, like a crown of sorts* We first need to make your headdress. Because you're a wife and mother, your headdress must be fashioned with ripened sheaves of wheat and corn, to symbolize your fruitfulness in life as a wife and mother. *holds up a golden sheave as she explains, the fine bristled head of the sheave glimmers slightly in the sunlight*

Katya: What if I was only a wife and not a mother? Then what?

Natalia: *places down Katya's designated headdress and picks up several flowers* Then your headdress would be of these- these flowers symbolize the woman before motherhood and marriage- she has not lived long into life, so she is like a flower.

Natalia: It's the same if you're wife and not a mother.

Katya: I see.

Natalia: But you're both, you're a wife and a mother.

Katya looks at Natalia for a while and is tempted to ask if she was married, but doesn't.

Katya feels that Natalia is indignant about this topic.

Katya: Yes, I am. I didn't know I would be, to be honest. But that's a topic for another day.

Natalia: Mine differs because I was never a wife, nor a mother.

Katya: I see. It is interesting. It must be liberating to never be a wife and mother.

Natalia: Yes, it was for the best. I'm not fit for either role. But let's return to yours. It will look very nice once I'm done.

Katya: especially since you seem very at peace with your choice, and the fact that you long to be mentored by a woman.

Natalia: Liberty only comes to those who can enjoy it despite their lives. I could be free as a mother and wife, or free as a woman on my own. A woman on her own can be just as oppressed.

Katya: Can I help you make the headdress?

Natalia: I'm sorry. I spoke too much. Let's focus on the task at hand, here. Almost finished- yes, please help me*notices her claws are tangled and tied in the delicate threads of the stripped sprig- holds out her hands to Katya to untangle and then re-tie the sheaves to the bent sprig*

Katya untangles and helps her to re-tie.

Katya: I never got along well with women, to be honest. I cannot imagine living here that long. I'm sorry about the comment I made about not wanting a mother when you clearly have alway wanted one. I spoke too soon.

Natalia: *looks thoughtfully at her, pauses for a moment before she speaks*

Katya: I just never felt the need to connect with any woman, to be honest. I've always had difficulties for some reason. I've always felt that women were judgmental, rude, and nitpicking.

Natalia: May I be honest with you, Katya?

Katya: And I admire people with strong goals who climb the social ladder. most women I knew and know are not like that. That is why I always felt the most comfortable with men. What do you want to say?

Natalia: Back in my life, when I lived as a human, I too never sought or even liked the company of women. They all seemed, as you say, just as you say- nitpicking, assumptive, meanly-minded, materialistic, and cruel creatures. All I saw were women like my mother, so many women like her. And my prioresses as well, who were no better than her. I met one girl who was a friend to me, but I lost her. Men were intelligient, they did things, they advance and moved the world in ways women were not allowed in my time. I wanted to join that world. I liked the company of men, like my father, Andrea, Signors Morosini and Di Petro, and even an unusal and unlikely friend in Calafado. I relished their company and took comfort in their understanding and acceptance.

Natalia: Even Calafado was kinder to me than my own mother.

Katya: I see.

Katya sighs and looks away. She was not expecting Natalia's life story.

She feels too tired and overwhelmed to have a proper conversation about these kind of things. She feels a bit guilty she hasn't been very open to talking more to Natalia, though.

Natalia: But I spoke too much now, I'm irritating you. See*holds up the headdress before Katya* It's finished now.

Katya feels that Natalia's personality is somewhat like Liza's--very acidic, critical and overly emotional. This somewhat disturbs her.

Katya decides to smile and take the headdress and forget all of this came up.

Katya: Thank you! This looks wonderful.

Natalia: *gestures for Katya to bow her head so she can crown the piece on her head*

Katya bows her head.

Natalia: *carefully secures the headdress between her ears and weaves a few strands of her light hair to fully latch the piece like a crown*

Katya: I bet this looks great on me. Thank you for your wonderful help, Natalia.

Natalia: Yes, you look fit now. Now for your robes.

Natalia: *ducks into another hall, speaks with another oracle, and is handed two folds of robes, one for herself, one for Katya*

Katya: What will you be doing to my robes?

Natalia: *gestures for her to stand in another hall where the sun is shining the least, so there is shade*

Natalia: We need to dress you now, in these special robes.

Natalia: *lies out Katya's robes on a lit patch of the mosaic floor, a white peplos with a red himation, the red symbolizing her marriage and motherhood*

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