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honeybeefae · 9 months

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7 Minutes In Heaven (Bat Boys x Reader)

Summary// After a night of drinking and a confession that friends should not say to each other, you find yourself on the receiving end of your three best friend’s wicked desires to make sure you are taken care of.

(Hoooooly hell this was a LOT to write and it took me so long but I am so happy with how it came out. 16 pages, 5K words, and I really hope you guys like this. This is obviously just pure smut but we all know that’s why you’re here. ;) Enjoy!)

WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Foursome, Double penetration, Spitting

The fire was roaring in the hearth while the smell of bread and wine filled the cabin air. Rhys, Cass, Az, and you were all sitting in a circle by the couch as you joked about old memories, the outside world seemingly far away as you took a relaxing breath and enjoyed the company of your friends.

You had come up here after your father had surprised you with an arranged marriage back in your birthplace within the Court of Nightmares. Despite your job with the inner circle he still felt as if he had control over you and you were lucky that Rhys had been there to swoop you away and hide you here.

It had been three days since then and you had no plans of leaving anytime soon. The four of you were as close as could be and you were thankful they had dropped everything to help you out and be a shoulder to lean on.

Four wine glasses lay empty beside each of you though none of you were drunk by any means, the conversation light and mellow as you reached for the half-empty bottle beside Rhys.

“So, Y/N,” Cassian began, smirking when you rolled your eyes at his prying tone. “Who were you going to be wed to?”

“Really?” Rhys deadpanned. “Do you have to kill the mood?”

“It’s okay. I know he can’t help his gossiping ways.” You say sickly sweet, drinking down the red liquid faster than you should’ve. “It was some friend’s son of Keir’s. A terrible man no doubt looking to climb ranks like the rest of them. And with me being the only daughter of my father, you know he was looking to make alliances to secure his power as well.”

“They’re all like that. It’s pathetic.” Azriel grumbled from his spot on the floor.

“The men are the worst of them all, treating us daughters lesser than.” You snort and lean back on your hands. “It just sucks that us women are caught in the crossfire of your pissing contests.”

“Our pissing contests?” Rhysand echoed, arching his brow as you waved your hand in the air to gesture vaguely.

“Men in general. It’s so much harder for us than it is for you when it comes to scenarios like this. You guys get to go and do whatever you want, fuck whoever you want, etc., while we have to be everything all at once lest we ruin our family image.” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head in irritation as you ranted to the group.

“If I were a man I wouldn’t have to put up with being treated as a mere breeding sow or a stepping stool to a higher purpose. I could take what I wanted.” They were all watching you with amusement as you crossed your arms over your chest, glowering. “For example, I bet the three of you never once got lectured on the importance of maintaining your purity for a woman or how to please them properly.”

“Well, no, but-” Cassian tried to interrupt but you raised to sit on your knees and snapped your fingers in exasperation, cutting him off.

“Exactly my point! It’s a sexist, ridiculous outlook on women as a whole. We shouldn’t be made to feel bad about wanting our own pleasure when you lot can take part in yours whenever you please.” You realized too late how you had completely derailed the conversation and glanced at your now empty glass of wine, making a note to keep it that way.

“You certainly have very strong feelings towards this subject.” Rhys pointed out, his violet eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I didn’t realize this was such a sore topic. Shall we join you in your celibacy?”

All three of them laughed and you felt your face heat in embarrassment. It was your own fault for making it such a big deal and you were starting to regret the ammunition you had just given them. You rushed to defend yourself from whatever picture they were painting of you.

“I’m not celibate, I just-” You tried to get out, your voice cracking as you considered your words.

Three pairs of eyes stare at you as you clear your throat and straighten your spine, finding a small stain on the rug underneath you to focus on. “I mean that in the sense that you don’t have to feel obliged to do that since I’m not. I just think the issue needs to be talked about more.”

“The issue of your sex life?” Azriel quipped, grinning when you threw a pillow at him.

“No! The issue of the scale of men and women.” You retort with a flip of your middle finger. “Can we just change the topic?”

“I just can’t believe you’ve actually had sex with someone. What would your mother think, Y/N?” Cassian faked a dramatic gasp and you resisted the urge to chuck the glass bottle at his head.

"Listen-” You try to cut in but your pleas fell on deaf ears as all three of your best friends started to gang up on your blushing state.

“You have had sex before right?” Rhys smirked devilishly. “Touching yourself doesn’t count, it takes two people.”

“Or more.” Azriel gave you a wink and you blushed crimson, your mouth opening and closing as you tried to regain control of the situation.

“Yes, yes. I’ve done it before with someone else.” You felt self-conscious even admitting to that and you could tell they wanted more details. Before they could even ask though you held out your hand to silence them. “Why am I in the hot seat? Can we move on to someone else? Or a new topic entirely?”

“Oh no, this is very interesting. I want to know more.” Rhys raised an eyebrow, shooting his brothers an amused glance as you shook your head.

“Well if it’s so interesting how about I ask you how many people you’ve had sex with, hm?” You challenged your High Lord, blinking in surprise when he simply shrugged his shoulders.

“I have no problem telling you how many. What was it you said, we shouldn’t be made to feel bad about seeking our own pleasure?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm as you puckered your lips in silence. “I would say at least thirty.”

“Thirty?!” You were shocked.

“If you think that’s scandalous you really don’t want to hear Azriel’s…or Cassian’s.”

“How do you even? Were you courting all of them?”

Rhysand snorted while Cassian and Azriel grinned, the former laying sideways and propping his head up on his elbow. “You do know you don’t have to be courting someone to fuck them right, princess? Sex isn’t magically unlocked by writing poems and delivering flowers.” Cassian teased.

“I know that.” You snapped, frowning. “I just don’t see why. It doesn’t even feel that good.”

The room immediately fell into silence and your body tensed. All three of your friends were staring at you, mouths open, with shocked expressions. You brought your knees up to your chest, a comfort action, as Azriel cleared his throat and clicked his tongue.

“What doesn’t feel good? Sex itself?” He questioned, watching you shrug. “How many people have you had sex with, Y/N?”

“It doesn’t matter.” You went on the defense immediately, knowing they would laugh. However Rhys held out his pinky for you to hook, his face serious as he promised you that no one would make fun of you.

You mulled over lying or not but you knew they would be able to tell. It wasn’t something you were proud of but you truly never got the appeal of it. A few girls back in the Court of Nightmares were constantly bragging about it but you didn’t get the desire.

“Two.” You whispered, wincing when Cassian almost choked on his drink.

“Two? Did you say two?” He said hoarsely, hitting his chest with an open palm to clear his throat. “How old are you?”

“Why does it matter?” You ran a hand over your face frustratedly. “Why is any of this relevant to our friendship? Yes, I’ve only had sex with two people. It was painful, lasted a couple of minutes both times and just left me feeling frustrated and used. I didn’t like it. Can we move on?”

They watched you and you saw their gazes turn from shocking to pitying.

“So…no one has made you cum before?” Azriel whispered, voice tight as you closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.

“No, they aren’t supposed to.” You said as if it were obvious. “I was always told sex is for the man, to make a baby. It’s not really something that we enjoy but we just pretend we do.”

“Oh you sweet, summer child,” Rhys cooed. “That’s….that’s just cruel. And not what sex is at all.”

You felt agitated, embarrassed, and frustrated all at the same time. It was like they all knew some secret that you didn’t, that they were teasing you again. The night was not supposed to have taken this turn but you had dug this grave yourself.

“I’m going to bed.” You huffed and began to stand, grunting when Cassian grabbed your wrist and pulled you back down.

“I’m sorry if we made you feel uncomfortable or anything, Y/N. It’s just that is a very…shocking thing to hear.” He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as you glared at him.

“Are you telling me that you all care about the women you sleep with? That you make them cum every single time?” Your voice was tight as they looked at each other and then back to you, nodding. A snort left your lips as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, okay. I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Another pregnant pause filled the room as you watched them, their eyes darkening while they looked you over. There was a noticeable shift in the air, your mouth suddenly dry as you squirmed on the floor.

“Would you like to see it, darling?”

Your heart dropped into your stomach as Rhys’s words reverberated through you. They all had the same look in their eyes, one of hunger, but you were convinced they were messing with you.

“Ha ha, very funny.” You laughed without humor, your eyebrows knitting together in anger. “You all are assholes for teasing me, you know that? I’m going to bed.”

This time it was Azriel who stopped you though not with his hands. Two silky, dark tendrils of smoke curled around your arms and held you on the floor. It made your breath hitch and goosebumps rise on your skin as you looked up at him with doe eyes. “Az, this isn’t funny.”

“We aren’t joking, princess.” Cassian purred, one of his hands wandering to your thigh as he made his way beside you. “There are many things we would joke about but your pleasure isn’t one of them…and trust me when I say that we would love to help you out.”

“What-all of you?” You asked softly as your gaze moved across all three of them. “I don’t…I mean you are all very handsome, obviously, but don’t feel obligated to-”

Rhysand sat in front of you and grabbed your chin with his thumb and index finger, the former dragging over your bottom lip as you held back a moan at the contact. Azriel’s shadows were drawing shapes into your soft skin while Cassian’s hand seemed to drift higher and higher, all the attention making your head spin.

Your High Lord knew it too, a smirk working its way to his lips as he bent down until he was a hairsbreath away from your lips.

“This is anything but an obligation to us, darling. This is pure, carnal desire in its rawest form. A primal need.” His voice was smooth as silk, your eyelids fluttering as his lips moved to ghost over your ear. “A desperate urge to take care of you until you’re drowning in pleasure.”

“Look at her,” Azriel growled from your other side, his hazel eyes appearing behind Rhys. He had on a wicked smile, his head slightly tilted as he surveyed you. “She wants it so bad.”

“Do you, princess?” Cassian asked teasingly, his hand stopping at the waistband of your pants. “Do you want us to take care of you?”

“Yes.” You breathed, your sultry voice surprising you as all three of them pulled away and grinned. All of their warmth and comfort disappeared and you almost let out a whine, wanting it back desperately.

“How about we make this a game?” Rhys asks his two friends, standing tall over you. There was already a noticeable bulge in his pants that your fingers were itching to touch. “Seven minutes in heaven?”

“Person who makes her cum the hardest gets to fuck her?” Cassian finished, licking his lips. “Gods, I need to go first.”

However, before he could grab you, Rhys hoisted you up bridal style into his arms. You giggled as he looked over his shoulder and said, “Go ahead and start the timer. I won’t need all seven.”

The bedroom door swung open and then quickly shut again as you were pressed right against it, his lips on yours before you could make a sound. It felt so wrong and yet so right, your fingers immediately running through his midnight black hair.

“Stars above, you’re so beautiful.” He grunted into your ear as he kissed down your neck, his lips latching onto your pulse point while he shimmied off your pants. “I could smell how badly you want this.”

“Please, Rhys,” You whined, his fingertips ghosting over the wet spot on your panties. “Please touch me.”

He didn’t answer you by words but by actions, as he pushed your underwear aside to rub your clit with his thumb. It made your knees wobble from how good it felt. One of your hands came up to grasp his forearm, your head hitting the door behind you. “Oh my gods, that feels-I feel…”

“So fucking good,” Rhys finished for you. He kissed you hungrily, his own cock straining against its confines. Two more fingers dipped down and circled the entrance of your cunt before he thrust them in sloppily, choking back a moan. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

Your nails dug into his skin at the roughness of his motions, his upper lip curled as drank in every expression on your face. “Fuck me,” You gasped as a pleasure you had only read about overtook your body, those thick fingers curling each time they entered you. “Don’t stop, don’t stop!”

“Never.” He promised. “I will never stop making you feel this good, never stop making you scream around my fingers. You’re mine. Forever.” His words were like ice to a burn as you felt a strong surge of ecstasy boil over. Rhys held you as you exploded around his fingers, working you through the best orgasm of your life with words of praise and soft strokes.

“That’s it, darling, that’s it.” You mewled at his tone as your pussy tried to swallow his fingers deeper. “Such a good girl. You did so well…”

“Rhys that was…I’ve never…” Your words were breathless as you watched him with hooded eyes, your lips slightly parted as he gave you a knowing smile and kissed you. It was loving and warm, like a blanket on a cold winter’s night, and you melted into it.

He threaded his fingers through your hair to deepen it, taking control, and just as you felt him start to rut into your thigh the door behind you shook with a pounding force.

“Don’t need seven minutes my ass! Time’s up, High Lord!” Cassian chuckled, his grin feline as Rhys opened the door with a glowering look. “Oh I’m sorry, did I interrupt?”

“Just remember who just made your eyes roll back, darling.” Rhys purred into your ear before kissing your cheek, purposefully hitting Cass’s shoulder as he made his way back out to the living room. You tried to follow him with your eyes but Cassian was quick to step forward and make you step backward., your thighs still shaking.

“Was it that good, princess? Or were you just pretending for him?” He teased as he strode forward, making you retreat until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell back, your smile growing when the general appeared over you. “You don’t have to lie, I promise I won’t tell.”

“It was pretty amazing…” You sighed as he rolled his eyes before sinking to his knees at the end of the bed. He threw your legs over his shoulders before you could process what was happening and by the time you tried to squirm away, he had you pinned.

“Nuh-uh, you’re not going anywhere.” He growled as he gazed at your swollen cunt, your lips puffy and glistening. “You have such a pretty pussy, princess. Is it sensitive?”

Before you could answer he blew a cool breeze across your sex, making you jump. Cassian smirked and used both of his hands to spread you wide open. He leaned forward and spat on your clit, watching it mingle with your wetness as he inserted one finger. “Gods you’re making it so hard to be gentle.”

“Then don’t,” You urged, your pupils blown wide in desire. “Treat me how I deserve to be treated.”

Cassian let your words sink in before he dove headfirst into your pussy, three fingers roughly fucking into your hole as he scraped the hood of your clit with his teeth. It was sensory overload and you bucked forward with a small shout, your hands immediately fisting into his hair as he ate you out like a starved animal.

Every nerve in your body had already been shot but this was mind-numbing pleasure. It had you crying out for more, fucking his face as his stubble rubbed against your thighs. He was no better as he sucked and fucked your cunt until he could feel you start to tighten around him.

You hated how fast you were cumming but you also didn’t know if you could hold it any longer, your cries to slow down falling on deaf ears. Cassian swirled his tongue up and down, side to side, making sure to not waste a drop of your excitement. He knew how to eat someone out.

“Cass, Cass-” You tried to warn him, shifting your hips, only for him to tighten his hold on you. “Cass I can’t. I can’t hold it.”

“Cum all over my face, princess,” Cassian grunted as he watched your face contort in pleasure, your body already falling over the edge of the abyss. “Soak my beard, fuck my face, use me to get off. It’s all for you.”

Whereas Rhys had been sweet, Cassian was a little bit of both. It made you yearn for more of his degrading praise and you quickly found yourself following his orders, your hips rolling over his face as you came loudly.

The door started banging again but you didn’t care and neither did he. In fact, Cassian was so lost in what he was doing he almost lashed out when Azriel appeared behind him. You whined when he was pulled back but quickly settled when you felt cool hands running over your body.

No, not hands. Shadows.

Your eyes widened when Azriel’s hazel gaze appeared inches from your face. He had a dark look and an even darker smirk as his shadows lazily rubbed along your skin, his hands gently pulling off your top.

“Did my brothers fully satisfy you or are you still wanting more, mouse?” Azriel cooed into the empty room, tossing the last of your clothing aside so that you were now bare before him. “Answer me.”

“I want more.” You gulped, drinking precious air as the Shadowsinger tilted his head in wonder. “Please.”

“Who taught you those manners, pet?” He raised a curious brow while both of his hands cupped your sensitive tits, thumbs barely grazing over your nipples. It was enough to make you squirm though which he was counting on. “I’ll be happy to give you more but I want you to beg.”

“Beg?”

“Beg.”

You faltered at first, not sure what it was he wanted to hear, but when he went to pull away from your breasts you ran with it. “No, no, please keep touching me!” You whined, groaning when one of his tendrils of smoke circled your clit. “Oh, Gods, that feels so good.”

“I’ll stop if you don’t fucking beg for it, Y/N. I want to hear you tell me how badly you want my fingers. How greedy you are for already cumming twice but still needing more, like the dirty slut you are.” He sneered, his nostrils flaring as he resisted the urge to just fuck you then and there.

“I am greedy! I want more, I want it so fucking bad, Az!” You cried, desperate for his touch to grow stronger. He was keeping you on the edge. “I am a, fuck, I’m a dirty slut. I want you so bad, so so bad, please.”

“You’re a quick learner.” He smiled before bending down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth at the same time his shadows started stroking your slit. Your mouth opened wide in a silent cry of euphoria as he bit and nibbled his way over to your other boob, the pressure on your clit increasing with each second.

“I always knew you were dirty, mouse,” Azriel murmured as he gave a harsh suck, enjoying the way you arched into it. “Always knew this how you wanted to be fucked. Just look at this greedy little cunt, hm? Look at how it’s swallowing my fingers.”

You couldn’t see it but you could feel it as he thrust two fingers inside of you, the walls sensitive as he stroked them and found that special spot with ease. His fingers plus his mouth on your breasts was heaven as your head thrashed back and forth, your body desperate to just be fucked.

But he wasn’t going to give that to you. At least not yet. No, Azriel was focused on making you cum one more time. The tip of his tongue flicked over your hardened nub as his shadows came back to rub your clit, all of the stimulations becoming too much, too fast.

“Azriel, fuck!” You squealed as you came for the third time that night. This time you felt yourself ascend from your body, watching yourself from below as he worked you through it but didn’t slow down. “Ohhhhh fuck…”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He growled as he removed his fingers, smirking when your eyes had that glazed look to them. You whimper as he picks you up gently, shushing you, then turning to see Rhys and Cassian waiting in the doorway. “I think she’s done for the night.”

“No…” You mumble softly, needily. “I want you…all of you. Please.”

There was a beat of silence as they considered your state and each other before you were brought back to the bed and spread out for their viewing pleasure. You felt like you were cock drunk at this point, especially as Rhys pulled his cock out right in front of your face.

You wasted no time in bringing him into your mouth, your saliva dripping out the sides of your mouth as you worked his cock up and down. Rhys threw his head back and growled, the room seeming to shake before he grabbed a fistful of your hair to help guide you.

“If your mouth is this good I can’t wait for your cunt.” He laughed airly before moaning once more, watching as Azriel stood to your other side with his cock standing proudly.

The bed dipped behind you and before you could blink you felt Cassian rub his cock up and down your folds, words of praise or prayer spilling from his lips as he sunk in inch by inch. It felt amazing and you pulled off Rhys’s dick long enough to moan loudly.

“Shit, Cassian,” You groaned. “You’re so big.”

“You’re just tight as fuck, princess. Gods, I don’t think I’m going to fit.” He cursed, his fingers squeezing your hips as you whipped your head to look back at him.

“Make it fit.” You said lowly, your eyes narrowed in challenge which had him grinning. He gave you a shrug of his shoulders before pulling out and slamming back in, rocking your forward and straight into Azriel’s cock. He took advantage of the situation and forced you to swallow him whole, his biceps straining as you gagged and cried around his dick.

“Look at you, look at the little whore you’re being for us,” Azriel said as you started to go back and forth between him and Rhys. Cassian was fucking you like a beast, his balls hitting your clit with every thrust. It was intoxicating in every sense of the word and you never wanted it to stop. “You like being treated like this, don’t you? Like our own personal fuck toy?”

“You’re doing such a good job, darling.” Rhys’s voice soothed, your heart beating in your ears as you gazed at him. “Taking Cass so well. He’s close, I can tell.”

“I’m gonna fucking fill you up.” The Illyrian General growled as he pistoned in and out. You could feel him in your stomach as you closed your eyes and let yourself feel. “Take it, Y/N, fucking take it.” He ordered as he finally stilled in you, hot ropes of cum coating your insides as you hung your head in rapture.

He seemed to cum forever and when he finally pulled out, you watched his cum drip down onto the bedsheets from just how much it was. Cassian smirked and collected the leaking seed onto his fingers, holding it out for you to take before Rhys snatched it and sucked it off himself.

Rhys’s eyes darkened at the taste of both of you and he quickly yanked you to him, lying back on the bed and positioning you on top. He helped guide you onto him and when you started sinking down, both of your groaned. The rhythm was soft and slow as you got used to his size, your hands coming to palm at your breasts until you felt a nudge against your asshole.

“Shhhh, relax,” Azriel’s voice shushed as he spat on his cock, lubing it up even more before he started to press into your ass. “Relax for me, mouse. I want you to take us both together. Can you do that?”

You nodded, a stupid smile on your face as you leaned back into him for support at the intrusion. It felt weird but the longer you waited, the more pleasurable it got. Soon you were rocking on to both of them in need, your sex hungry for more as they started fucking you at the same time.

It was a fullness you had never felt before but you don’t know how you could ever go on without it. They worked beautifully with each other, their moans mixing with yours as Azriel replaced your hands with his own. Rhysand watched from below, his violet eyes burning with desire as he pulled you down for a heated kiss.

They were fighting over you and it was driving you crazy. And just as Azriel went to pull you back to him, Cassian appeared at your side with his cock in his hand. It was already hard and leaking and you wasted no time in shoving him inside your mouth.

“That’s it, that’s it,” Rhys praised. “Ride us, darling. Be a good, needy girl for us.”

“Our good, naughty little whore.” Cassian purred, choking when you took him down to the base.

“Or just our whore.” Azriel growled as he smacked your ass, watching the recoil. “A whore we can use and abuse whenever we want.”

Their words filled your veins until you felt as if you were about to burst. You could feel a fourth orgasm coming, could feel the now painful clenching of your cunt, but there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had enough mind to pull away from Cassian’s cock before you let out a blood-curdling scream, your body collapsing on Rhys’s chest as you squirted all over them.

All at once, together, they also found their releases and followed you with reckless abandon. The sheets were soaked, as were the rest of you, as Azriel came in your ass, Rhys came in your cunt, and Cassian came over your back. You felt like you were leaking cum from every opening you had and you loved it.

You struggled to catch your breath as they all fell into bed beside you and Rhys, the smell of sex and cum permeating the room. Rhys’s soft hand stroked up and down your back lovingly while Cass and Az whispered praises. It was slow coming back down to Earth, to the three men who you had just slept with, and you realized that you never wanted to leave the room. Never wanted to leave them.

After a few minutes, you hear rustling before Azriel stands up and asks if anyone wants to shower, his eyebrows lifting in surprise when you sat up sleepily and said, “Second round in the shower?”

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chrolloluvr · 2 months

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💰Things you do that make Mammons heart flutter 💰

Note: Female!Reader 🩷🩷, not proofread!!

Warnings: Cussing, mammons got a HUUGE ego but i love him🥺

Calling him cheezy nicknames. Things like Mamm, Mammy poo, big daddy (his favorite), MooMoo, sugar daddy etc. Its embarrassing for him, especially when you call him these in public. Because he wants to come off as powerful, but when you say these to him, it is guaranteed to give him a noticeable pink hue to his cheeks

Giving him an imnense number of compliments. Or in particular, purposely pandering to him. Lets say you compliment how good of a partner he is, or how he treats you so well. He will be taken aback by your overly suckle comments towards him. He knows he treats you well, but by you telling him just fuels his already large ego, and proves that you truly see how much effort he puts into you.

Wearing or using his merch. If this man ever catches you wearing any of his merch, he will be like a happy, doting 9ft tall puppy. He will say how absolutely irresistible you look. 'Jesus, y/n. Cmon, do a little spin for me, yeah? M'baby looks so fuckin' cute.' He most likely will make you wear Mammon themed panties around the house.

Wearing his clothes. Lets say he gets home from a long day of planning and saving, and he sees your adorable self, covered in his giant clothes, especially big on you, covering your body. He will go absolutely feral. He thinks you are already the most stunning woman in hell, but when he sees you in his jingley clown hat? He feels his heart beeting out of his chest. And my god, what a woman you are. He will grab your waist with both of his hands, and snuggle the shit outa you. And he wont let go.

The size difference. It. Is. So. Obvious. People point it out all the time in the media and on Sinstagram. He's probably at least 10ft tall, so your basically shorter than him. He absolutely lives for it. He will constantly tease you for it. And he loves that it makes him feel more dominant. He loves that you have to literally break your neck to look up at his face, or that he has to reach down to give you a smooch. He will put things on higher shelves, just to see you struggle and ask him for help

Speaking of so, he adores when you ask him to help you with things. Such as asking him for help opening a Nutella jar, all the way to asking for help unclipping your bra. It shows you need him. And that churns out a feral side to him. 'Babe whats with all the ruckus- ohhh your trying to reach the top shelf? You're so cute, always needin' my help' Sometimes, he purposely wont help you, just to see your precious reactions he is always so greedy and eager to see.

Carrying you. His favortite ways to carry you is over his shoulders, under his arm, and facing him, with his hands under your plush thighs. He loves holding you close to him, because I, ( along with other authors ) believe he is naturally cold. So holding you close to him lets him tear his walls down for a bit. You feel like a small flee while being carried by him. If hes carrying you over his shoulder, he will slap your ass, and listen for the sweet sound of your squeaks every time he does it.

Resting your head between the nook of his neck. He loves when you do this, and you know he does. Sometimes, you will whisper in his ear how much you love him, and how he is the best thing to come in your life, and watch as you swear you can see his eyes soften and look at you lovingly. You are probably the only person to ever see that from him. He also has a thing for sniffing you (which I get into in my future hcs), so he likes to smell your hair, as he grabs the back of your head. He would never usually be that vulnerable around you, so you must know his weaknesses extremely well.

Hearing you brag about him. He knows you show him off to your friends, as well as the rest of Hell. But let's say he walks into your shared master bedroom, and your on the phone. 'Sarah, I'm being serious. Mamm treats me well, stop worrying about me. Im fine, yes. Yeah he a bit of a control freak, but who isnt? I love him for him. Im not joking, no-' He is in utter shock. you are talking about him, and your defending him? Yeah, be prepared for a looooong night. He will never forget about you saying that. And he will never bring it up, since he doesn't want to come off as a wuss. You genuinely love him. The fact that you said that and you didn't know he was in your vicinity is wild to him.

If you look up at him with your big doe eyes. God, you better stop it if you don't want to be manhandled and praised. You just look so innocent and cute, and he just wants to come up and squish your puffy little cheeks like the gif below ⬇️ .His heart feels like it's running laps, but he wont let you see that. He keeps his cool demeanor, as he tells you 'Babe, you think that shits gonna work ok me? Really fuckin' smart arench'ya?

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redcurrantarot · 1 year

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Pick-a-Card Reading: Who is your Future Spouse/Life Partner?

Hello everyone, and welcome to my first PAC reading! Use your intuition/call upon your spirit guides or higher self to choose the image/group that you feel called to as it holds the message meant for you.

Decks Used: Caroline Myss Archetype Cards, Tea Leaf Oracle Cards, Radiant Rider-Waite Tarot

PAC Theme: Howl's Moving Castle

Disclaimer: This is a general tarot reading for entertainment purposes meant for a wide audience and isn't targeted towards every specific person, so not every message will resonate with every person reading 100%. Take what information resonates with you and leave what doesn't. All of the info provided in my readings are my own personal interpretations of the cards and messages that come through. Because of the general nature of the reading, it's best not to take it too seriously and keep in mind this is just for fun!

Group 1

Cards: hills, caterpillar, elephant, hammock, samaritan, student, beggar, saboteur rx, chariot rx, page of pentacles, 8 of swords, 8 of wands, 2 of cups

Hello and welcome to your reading group 1!

Starting off, your future spouse/life partner is someone who is still figuring out their life and seems to be quite young and is just starting out their journey. Specifically I'm seeing they're still in school (higher education so college or university most likely) they're in a period of their life where they're a student and in a position where they're learning new things, as for what they're interested in or majoring in I feel like it's definitely something related to helping or communicating with others or societal issues. The thing is though, your future spouse at this point in time seems to also be kind of struggling with lacking direction and feeling stuck in life. It's giving me the feeling of being in school but also being confused with how their life is going, what they want to do and where they're headed. There's a lot of feeling trapped in their circumstances and not knowing what to do and feeling aimless. They're giving financially struggling college student, the type to barely make ends meet and might eat instant ramen a lot. It seems like they're probably lacking a support system in their life and feeling kind of helpless. I can also see them working a minimum wage type of job most likely and just trying to survive. I think the main reason for this is because of the fact that they seem to be some type of foreign exchange type student as in they're probably from another country and are attending school in another and have only themselves to depend on money wise. They're honestly working super hard to the point where it can be kind of unhealthy and they might not be able to take care of themselves very well because they're just trying to get by. Things won't always be this way for them though as things seem to be looking up and a change is coming their way. I'm seeing specifically that this is how the two of you meet each other, your person eventually decides to go on a trip or a vacation of some sort maybe back to their home country or wherever but it's definitely somewhere far away and then that's how both of you end up meeting!

Group 2

Cards: bear, coins, boat, heart, messiah rx, prince rx, don juan, angel, knight of cups, 4 of wands rx, 10 of wands, king of wands rx, king of pentacles

Hello and welcome to your reading group 2!

Alright this is interesting, your future spouse/life partner is someone who comes off or acts in a way that is arrogant and they're someone who is also very powerful I'm seeing when it comes to their position in life and their social standing. They're someone who has a very large presence and who gives the impression that they know everything and are pretty intimidating too as if everything is in their control, they have a god complex. But I'm also seeing the reason for why they act this way/give this impression and it's because it is an act/a mask or a defensive mechanism in a way, I don't believe they actually truly believe they are better than others or above them but they take advantage of their power, their charm and attractive qualities to protect themselves because there is a lot of burden on them since they are incredibly connected to money and might be at risk a lot because of this. I'm seeing that this facade they have is because of issues and pressures due to their upbringing/family and because it's likely they come from some sort of generational wealth, in a way it's like they have to serve them which gives me the impression on top of this pressure already, they might be the heir to their family as well which comes with expectations. They might feel like everything is on them to succeed and they carry a lot on their shoulders. There are always people flocking to them and around them, sometimes not with the best intentions because not only do they have wealth from their family, they're also very good at making money and doing business and are held to high expectations by others and also themselves. I also think they're someone who's very smooth and knows how to use their seductive qualities to their advantage. Despite all of this though, underneath it all, this act and this performance they are someone who is truly kind and incredibly caring at heart. I'm seeing that they're someone who is probably pretty sensitive and soft hearted which is even more of a reason to put out a strong front, despite having so much wealth, they're also altruistic too and they definitely use their money for the right reasons and give back to others and to the right causes eg. charities, non profit organizations etc.

Group 3

Cards: torch, july, tree, apple, mediator, king, priest, monk/nun rx, king of swords, king of cups, 5 of pentacles rx, ace of cups, 4 of pentacles

Hello and welcome to your reading group 3!

I'm seeing that for your future spouse/life partner, they're someone who has a talent for connecting with people and has great communication skills which can bring people together. They're someone who can combine their intelligence and perception as well as their emotional sensitivity and compassion to move people and persuade them. I'm seeing that they're also someone who commands a level or respect and they also have some type of authority and are a leader in some way, they're someone people look up to. One thing that comes out very clearly about them is that they're also someone who is incredibly devoted to their spiritual/religious beliefs, they're very pious to the extent where it's something that they're known for and they might dedicate themselves to their religious beliefs to the point that they take priority over material matters at times or become overly concerned with them. They strongly give me the impression that they use their skills to help others in some way and offer them care and compassion. For some people their person might be a counselor of some sort or a therapist but I also can't help but feel like they do in some way use their spiritual/religious beliefs to tie into their work somehow or that it is in some way related. I honestly wouldn't even be surprised if they were some kind of religious/spiritual advisor or even a priest or just someone important in their religious/spiritual community that people turn to for help or guidance. They kind of give me the impression of someone who is good at preaching or might even want to "save" others. Another thing that is coming through is that they have a lot of self control or discipline towards themselves because of their beliefs and seem to be conservative in some way and for some of you, your person might be the type to want to "wait until marriage" or at least further in into the relationship if you get what I mean. One last message that is coming through is that for some of you, you guys might be part of the same religious/spiritual community and your families might know each other and it's possible you'll meet because you're introduced to each other through them and that this could be an arranged marriage/pairing.

Group 4

Cards: mice, broom, camel, tree, healer, child: wounded rx, vampire, mentor, 8 of cups, 10 of pentacles rx, the hermit, 6 of cups 8 of pentacles, the sun

Hello and welcome to your reading group 4!

Your future spouse/life partner is someone who is on a healing journey. They're someone who has experienced a lot of pain and trauma in their past, specifically their childhood and growing up from their family and is finally leaving it all behind in the past and recovering from this. I'm seeing that they've finally walked away from this and probably have cut them out from their life and moved away into a new home and life and have made a lot of effort and spent a lot of time alone to self reflect and introspect on the issues their trauma has caused them. This caused them to become aware and more protective of themselves and to not let others take advantage of them anymore, but I'm also seeing that through this self healing journey they found a new purpose in life that is part of healing their inner child and past wounds. It's really beautiful honestly, not only are they healing from this but they've decided to use their experiences and pain to guide others, specifically other children so that they can give them what they never had. I'm seeing that this person is very likely a teacher of some kind or at least for sure works with children, they could work in a school teaching them or could even be a daycare/kindergarten teacher or a child therapist of some kind or they could work with families, maybe even child protection services, something along those lines. But whatever they do they truly put in a lot of work to be a good mentor to other kids and to help and guide them. It's something that they're truly passionate about and it brings them a lot of joy not only towards themselves and their inner child but to other kids as well, they're someone who is constantly and consistently putting in effort to learn more and heal by working with other children and just spending time with them.

Thank you for enjoying and supporting my PAC readings! I'd love to know your thoughts, please feel free to let me know through my asks. Any feedback is appreciated ♡

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writemywaytoyourheart · 2 years

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Bedeviled - Masterlist

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: E2L, drama, romance, horror, angst

Age recommendation: 16+ (pls be aware of your boundaries and don't force yourself to read something that may affect you, ily)

Official Word Count: 165k

Date first posted: October 14, 2022

Date finished: December 13, 2023

Warnings: strong language, brief mentions of liquor, physical violence, gore, cruelty, humiliation, angst, physical injuries, panic attacks, frightening depictions of Hell and those in it, some suggestive content, deals with/summoning of demons (do not), grief, death, loss, strong religious themes

________________

Money. Fame. Power. Love. Health. Courage. Strength.

Humans will trade their souls for anything, unaware of how their selfish desires will fade away as they do; growing feeble and pathetic, until there's nothing left but the ghost of their youth, cowering in a corner until old age disposes of it.

Convincing yourself to go to the Underworld? Easy...

Walking through to get something that you've waited many years for, accompanied by a demon that will stop at nothing to make sure your soul belongs to him? Maybe not so much.

Making deals with the devil is a tricky business; one you might not have realized could end in something much more painful than death itself if you make a single mistake.

Disclaimer: this is a work of fiction. It is not religiously accurate and is not claiming to be. That being said, blasphemy will not be used/tolerated during this story. Heavy inspiration from Dante Alighieri's 'Inferno' was used, I am not claiming to have created those ideas on my own, simply incorporated some of them into my world building. If you do not feel comfortable reading this work, please don't. No need to try and correct me on anything, this is all fictional and for entertainment purposes only. Hate will not be tolerated; it will be removed, and you will be blocked immediately.

This story is protected under copyright. If I find out anyone has stolen my writings, I will not hesitate to take legal action against it. You do not have permission to repost my work on any site ever. If I want it somewhere else, I will put it there myself. If you see my works anywhere but Tumblr (and from my account specifically) please let me know so I can confirm whether it is me or not, thank you.

Do. Not. Steal. My. Work.

Bedeviled Playlist

Table of contents:

As of right now, this story does not have a set schedule, I would like it to be every Friday, but we'll see what the future holds, deal?

1: A Deal with the Devil

2: The First Circle

3. Descent

4. Adumbration

5. Rotten Company

6. rigor samsa

7. Adamantine

8. Summoning

9. The Higher the Wall...

10. The Harder They Fall

11. Hiraeth

12. Apple (12a) (12b)

13. trustfall

14. Always Faithful, Always Strong

15. [a: alea iacta est] [b: Morior Invictus]

Epilogue

Tag list; @kookxin @butterymin @telepathytae @kooliv @highoffbaddecisions @meanum @smitssharon02 @kmpac @ggukkieland @jjanjankook @sugaslittlekookies @hobispriteu1306 @kimchibrat @slowlydeliciousjiminie @screamertannie @i-dont-give-a-fok @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @ohyeahjk @babycandy111 @ttipa @ggukcanim @era-genius @katlumiiine @xmochiloverx @sopikooo @berryonasummerevening @jamlessstars @bangtannie7 @iftheworldiswritten @nuttykittypainter @geniejunn @mal99 @ane102 @charlesswife @jeonssm @ashbxnny @veronawrites @jjkw-7 @jinsundor @h-g-bts @justvibingsblog @hyuneyeon @hellbornsworld @hiii-priestess @nuttypizzacat @vidaficrecs @royallyjjk @thvslvt @hoseoksluv89 @moonchilddna @idkjustlovingbts @taiwan0618 @aurorathi @kookies-n-spice @ohxhoneyyxx @namjoonscrabjuice @dumdaradumdaradum @vintagemoonsstuff @jiminsthings @p-i-e-d-p-i-p-e-r @0funsite0 @av0kqdo

(let me know if you want to be added/removed and pls be sure to let me know if you have changed your username and would still like to be tagged, ty ❤)

#jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook demon au #jungkook smut #bts fluff #bts #bts reactions #bts angst #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #bts demon au #demon!jk #demon!jungkook #bts smut

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lactoseintolerentswag · 25 days

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Rise Characterizations: The Foot Clan

Since I've posted on Cass, I figured it would be useful to post separately on the Foot Clan as a whole.

So the Foot Clan's obvious goal is the resurrect The Shredder.

They have paralleled origins to that of the Hamato Clan, the distinction of which caused by Karai splitting into her own clan.

One of the only mentioned laws of the Foot Clan is: you can only take control by succeeding where those have failed.

This leaves room to interpret that there could be a history of in-fighting or struggle for power within the Foot Clan.

Ranking:

To officially join the Foot Clan, a recruit must attempt an assigned solo mission, and return with success. The more missions a recruit/member go on, the more they are qualified to be raised to a higher ranking.

A foot marking on a face is implied to accompany a higher level of respect. Since Huginn and Muninn haven't raised their rank higher than the equivalent of a 2, we can assume that getting a foot print you must be a rank 3 or higher.

Members:

Foot Lt. offhandedly mentioned they get recruits online in "ninja chat rooms", so it seems they prioritize quantity over quality.

Then there are the origami warriors, who serve as canon fodder. We see the origami warriors as the earliest army of the Foot Clan, but this is ruined with the turtles' involvement. I wonder what determines the value between the origami warriors and the human members.

The Foot Clan is already kind of built on flimsy foundations. Foot Lt. and Foot Brute seem to be the only ones in the know of what's going on (being able to navigate through the Hidden City, use/locate mystic artifacts, and have some knowledge of the Hamato Clan), but even they don't really understand the Shredder's motivations. It makes me question how "human" or disconnected from their humanity they are, especially considering the flaming heads and purple skin.

There is some mentioned donors of the Foot Clan (such as Jocelyn's parents), but after the Shredder was detained in Seasons 2's opening, the members of the Foot Clan kind of jumped ship. This forced Cass to find purpose elsewhere, and Foot Lt. and Brute to retreat to the shadows. When the Shredder returns, it's just the three of them. This might have to do with where they recruit from.

In-fighting and changes between leadership through violence could also lead to muddled history and values. These people aren't bound together by one purpose, just broad destructive chaos.

Names and identities don't be appeared to be valued within the Foot Clan. For the majority of the show Cassandra is referred to as "Foot Recruit", and the only names we're offered with the two leaders are "Foot Lt. and "Foot Brute". This is could be read as a gag, but again Foot Clan history is completely open to interpretation.

Goals:

We've discussed their connection to Shredder's resurrection, but even beyond him what they're really aiming at it world domination and destruction. We see this reflected in Cass with her inherit fierceness, but also how she deals with the fallout of the Foot Clan by raising an army of brownie scouts to take over the world.

And then there's the inherit role of servitude that both Foot Lt. and Brute put themselves under. When Draxum dons the armor they "await" his orders (with the misunderstanding that the Shredder has risen), and when asked what they expect the Shredder to do they simply shrug and say "shred". They live to serve and destroy for a higher power beyond their understanding. A few lines that particularly stuck out to me in the movie was: "Tonight we liberate our masters from their dimensional prison. With this key we shall free them to lay waste to this world and enslave its people."

And finally I'd like to discuss their relationship with the Krang and the key.

Since the events of s2 the Foot Clan appears to have taken residence in an abandoned garden, whether it was the same in which the boys had broken into to smell the corpse flower remains unclear to My findings. Their numbers have grown again for an unknown reason, and they have been collecting parts of the dimensional gate and finally key.

I would also like to mention the inclusion of the boat and dock here. Especially since we were introduced to the Foot Clan through their paper thievery, and the boys had their first win against them on a similar boat that served as a paper hoard.

Moving back to the Krang, they have a similar fundamental misunderstanding of their place in relation to their masters, as they did with their master the shredder. It begs me to ask the question of when exactly and how did Lieutenant and Brute start giving attention to the Krang.

They were never mentioned before during the show, but in the movie Lieutenant does refer to them by name, "We shall follow the Krang as they lead the Foot Clan to glory!" So did this reach for a new master come from desperate research on the Shredder's origins, or was that the end goal when the Shredder was released? The oni that gave Shredder is shown to be a Krang before they were even confirmed, and the armor appears eerily similar to the armor that the three Krang don in the final sequence of the movie.

Then the source of empyrean (the source of mysticsm, yokai, mutants) is shown to come from a kraang corpse. There's so much of the Foot Clan tied to the Krang manipulating Oroku Saki, but a lot of their origins appear to be lost to history.

But again that leaves much to interpretation and wiggle room to poke at!!

#rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #the foot clan #rottmnt the foot clan #analysis #save rise of the tmnt #save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rise of the turtles #critter talks #character analysis #long post #wow this has been rotting in my drafts for a while let's get this baby out there

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dejabluebabygirl · 1 year

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I See You - Chapter 2

Miles Quaritch x Fem! Na'vi OC

Summary: Vira Te Wou Auhew’ite, an albino Na'vi and future Tsahìk of the Tayrangi Clan, The Ikran Riders of the Eastern Sea, keeps needing to save the demon Miles Quaritch at Ewyas command. When she's given a sign to try to teach him The People's way, both she and Miles struggle with their growing feelings for each other.

Authors note: This one just ran away with me, I had it almost written and then felt I need to add some more scenes and went back. I hope it all flows okay, I've read it over quite a few times but feedback is appreciated!

Sorry for the delay on this, I went out with my Grandma for her 82nd birthday and we just had too many Salted Caramel Martini's LOL. I've been feelin’ rough since.

Rating: T

Warnings: Canon typical violence, strong language/swearing, mild mentions of mating/sex, mentions of nudity, hunting/animal death, use of drugs/alien alcohol??? (I'm so bad at tagging, let me know if I need to add something please), and unrealized attraction/pining

Words: 6955-ish

Chapter 2

Vira declared bright and early the next day that she and Miles needed to move camp, if he wanted to learn to be Na’vi they needed to sleep like Na’vi which meant finding a temporary Hometree for them. She’d briefly considered him back to the Tayrangi clan but her mind flashed back to when he burned the village of Ta'unui and chasing her down in the jungle last night hadn’t helped. She couldn’t bring herself to bring him home until she knew for certain he could be trusted. Ewya willed she teach him so she would, the great mother didn’t say she needed to talk him home. They wasted no time mounting their Ikrans in search of one.

In the back of Viras mind it lingered that she needed to be home in 2 short cycles to mate with Huärì. Would she trust Miles enough by then to take him home? The Tayrangi were known for being a progressive clan but could they ever accept a demon? She could only do so much with her sister, she’d have to rely on her mother to interpret Ewya’s will as she had.

The pink Na’vi mulled over her thoughts as she and Miles soared over the dense jungle on their Ikrans. Her orange eyes distractedly scanned over the tree tops for a suitable tree to stay in for the foreseeable future. The sooner they found one, the soon they could get themselves settled in and get comfortable.

“What kind of tree are we looking for, Princess?” Miles called from the left.

“Tall and strong with large branches to live in, long vines to climb, near water and game trails would be best.”

“Like that one?” His large blue hand pointed to a tree that was poking a few meters higher out of the canopy than those clustered around it.

She’d been so caught up in her thoughts she hadn’t seen it.

“We’ll see.” A brazen smile crossed her lips as Vira dove towards tree tops.

–

Miles had been right about the tree. They found it had a suitable large upper branch that could have fit six na’vi of Miles size side by side comfortably, if the ground looked good this would definitely be the branch they would sleep and dwell on when not out in the jungle.

The two of them climbed the vines down the jungle floor to find several fruit trees and game trails they could follow, Vira was impressed with the strength and speed Miles displayed going down them. Even with his large size, everything he did was graceful and agile, every movement had a powerful purpose behind it. If he was in pain from his injuries, he didn't show it at all. Her stomach flipped as she watched him scale down, Miles had abandoned his awful sky person vest at the last camp giving her full view of his back and arm muscles under his tight shirt.

He trailed behind her as they walked the forest floor together, she showed him how to step lightly on his feet, and make less noise as he moved through the jungle. His pants still rustled and made noise but when she suggested making him a tweng he looked uncomfortable at the thought.

“Not quite ready to run around the jungle in my skivvies just yet, Tiny.”

Vira laughed, she’d have to ease him into their ways, he was sharp and rough, quick to anger, and he needed gentle hands to guide him. She knew she planned to start with him giving up his sky people weapons for a spear and a bone knife. As she walked the game trails with him, she’d stop and kneel to identify the tracks in the soil, he’d slowly come down to join her, resting his hands on his knees and as she showed him Yerik, Nantang, 'angtsìk, and Talioang and how to identify each along the natural paths the animals created.

The game trails lead to a beautiful water site, it had a small waterfall cascading into it and flowed into a large pool at its base before continuing to snake through the jungle as a river, a perfect place to fetch fresh water, bathe, swim, and maybe even fish.

Ewya had provided sanctuary and Vira felt a little weight lift off her chest that she was right in interpreting the great mother's will that Miles learned to be Na’vi. She was not Tsahìk yet, she knew better than to presume she knew anything of her will but she couldn't help but feel this was right. This is what she was meant to do. Vira renewed her promise in silent prayer to do all she could to teach him as they walked back towards their Hometree.

On the way back she made Miles gather stones so they could make a fire pit on their living branch, with a proper firepit made it would not burn through the branch through the duration on their stay. She felt blessed when she found a bountiful amount of tautral, she knew she could weave into a mat for them to sleep on until she was able to make them each a Nivi. Her people slept in huts in caves but she’d observed the technique and helped the elders of tree-dwelling villages on her travels and felt confident in her ability to make them, it would just take time. That mat would at least keep them comfortable and off the bark of the tree. She walked back with her arms overflowing with bean stalks with right Miles behind her.

—

Quaritch propped himself up against the tree trunk while Vira busied herself around the large branch that would serve as camp. He could hear their Banshees playfully snapping at each other in the upper branches. Viras first priority had been to check his rib once they started to settle in for the day. He was actually surprised by how good it felt after it had stung like hell last night after chasing Vira through the god-forsaken jungle. She said a little prayer to the tree god as she wrapped him up again in leaves and muck.

When Miles tried to get up to help her build the fire pit she shooed him away and said he needed to rest. The little pink native impressed upon him how important it was for them to get a kill tomorrow so she needed him well rested. He watched her build up their camp quickly and efficiently and he couldn’t help but be the slightest bit impressed by how fast she was able to get their little operation up and running. It was just past midday and she had the fire pit built and all the fruits they'd gathered were organized. He watched with interest as her little pink hands worked to break apart a large stone that looked akin to obsidian back on earth. It seemed she liked the two big pieces she broke from it since she brought them over.

“Shape for spears,” handing him one and sitting beside him, unsheathing her bone knife from her thigh holster and using it to shape the black stone. He watched her small pink fingers gently shape the stone to a point, he took out his own company knife and tried his best to mimic her movements.

“Don’t force the shape, let the stone guide you.” She said, stopping work on her own spearhead and placing her hands on his hands over to work hand over hand with her small pink ones over his large blue paws. “Gentle.”

“Never been very good at being gentle.” He was a hard-ass gyrene, made of stronger stuff than most. When was the last time he’d been gentle with anyone or anything? Spider, probably. Not even Paz, his mother, not really. Paz had been something fleeting, burned fast and hot, something that was bound to happen when you put hundreds of marines together on an alien moon with no bar in sight to get your rocks off at. Quaritch would never have described their relationship as gentle, amicable maybe. They had respect for each other but they both knew what they were each after.

When he’d taken Spider from the jungle, he’d tried to be softer with him, have a gentler touch. He really had and in turn, the kid, his kid, wormed his way him in and had softened up. Just a touch. Spider had stopped him from killing the natives on more than one occasion, and took the time to teach him basic Na’vi and their customs but in the end Quaritch was a marine, a soldier, it was all he’d known for so long. His mission in life was always to complete the mission he was given at any cost.

Now, his focus on the mission had shifted, sitting in the tree far from the familiar, human comforts of the RDA. Sitting here while a little pink savage held his massive blue mits that still felt alien to him, was all for his mission, learning the strange Na’vi’s ways, were all, in service to the mission. He’d Kill Jake Sully, and secure a new home for humanity.

Vira released his hands and he kept working the stone, feeling her orange eyes staring at him.

“What?” his knife shaping the stone as gently as he could.

“See? You’re being gentle now. You have a strong heart, don’t doubt.” She placed her own rock beside him.

“Could you shape mine? Please? Need to work on mat.”

He grunted out an affirmative sound as she gathered the bean stalks and sat beside him again and began quickly and skillfully weaving them together. They worked in silence mostly, they hadn’t talked much small talk since they’d had their spat yesterday. When she talked to him it was mostly something she was teaching, impersonal.

Quaritch stole glances at her quick nimble little fingers weaving the bean stalks together. He watched as her orange eyes glanced at his hands as well, all the natives seemed to have some interest in them, normally the attention was negative but she was almost fascinated by them. Their eyes locked after a while of exchanging glances in the evening quiet.

“Sorry,” Vira blurted, he could see her face was practically purple she was so flushed. “For yesterday, should not have been rude.”

The Recom Na’vi shifted uncomfortably, he wasn’t really blameless in the interaction, and he’d let his temper get the better of him.

“Yeah well, guess I should have just let you go. Just didn’t want anything to happen to ya.” Half a truth, he didn’t really care about her per se, she was just a pink monkey but she was an asset to him. It was why he hadn’t turned around when she bathed at the river, the Recom Na’vi got no gratification out of watching the female alien. Quaritch just didn’t want something bigger and meaner snatching her up for lunch before he’d even gotten the chance to ask her to teach him the ways of the Na’vi. That conversation hadn’t gone to his plan in any capacity but she was here agreeing to teach him so he had to be the smallest bit thankful to the weird little seeds that made her stop her hasty retreat through the jungle.

“Let’s just put all that behind us and forget about it, alright Princess?”

Vira nodded and shyly looked up at him through her white lashes, “would you finish telling me of the metal spiders?”

—

Quaritch woke up with the sun and sounds of the jungle no longer at rest. The two of them had fallen asleep talking again the tree trunk, the little pink Na’vi frantically had weaved the mat until sleep overcame her and it was so large draped over the two of them like a blanket. He watched a few moments later as Viras sleepy orange eyes blinked a few times and she stretched her long limbs and yawned. She didn’t offer a morning greeting but got up and went right to work, he was actually pretty sure she was muttering curses in Na'vi, something about her back hurting too. She took the mat off them and gathered vines and large sticks they’d collected yesterday to make their spears. Maybe the aliens didn’t say good morning or maybe she just wasn’t a morning person.

The Recombinant Na’vi watched as she showed how to tie the spearhead on. He’d tied a complicated knot or two in his time and did it quickly. Earning a 'quick study' as praise from Vira. Not that he needed her praise but I did puff up his ego that maybe this whole learning to be Na’vi thing would be easier for him than it had been for Sully, he’d seemed to have a hard time when he started out from what he remembered of the tapes he’d reviewed.

They climbed down the tree, and Vira went through some practice thrusts and throws. It felt surprisingly good in his hands. Natural.

“Spear is extension of you, all tools are extension of you and your energy.”

Miles nodded even though really didn’t understand but figured playing along was easier than asking questions.

They walked the game trails, Vira explained they were looking for yerik tracks, Hexapede, from Quaritchs understanding they were kind of like deer. She explained how one of them would need to hide in a tree and the other would drive one to that spot.

“I am not skilled with spear, better with bow” she admitted, “you are big and strong, you will have to make the kill.”

“That’s a tall order, Tiny.”

“I will show you how, if you miss, we have fruit to eat. Bow will wait, no harm.” She offered a small smile of reassurance.

Once they found tracks along a path, she lead him to a low hanging tree branch over the natural game trail. Vira explained to him how she would drive one down and he would have to take aim and throw his spear at the beast.

“Lay flat, be one with tree” she demonstrated by practically melding her small pink body against the branch, her head cocked to one side white hair splayed everywhere.

“When you hear me coming up the path,” she made a whooping sound, he could have mistaken it for the prolemuris if he didn’t know the pitch of her voice. “Slowly stand, get ready. You will feel the movement in the tree.”

Yellow eyes watched her slowly roll her pink body up off the tree in a fluid motion, taking her spear in hand. He could see the lean, strong muscle in her arms.

“Breath slow, slow heart. Hold breath and release with your throw”

Miles watched Viras release her breath with her spear as it spear pierces the ground below.

The pink native had him run through the motions a few times before she felt comfortable leaving him glued to the branch to go try and heard a Hexapede his way. He felt crazy laying on the branch, what was he even doing out here? He could just shoot the thing when it ran by, he was sure Vira would be pissed but he was a helluva shot, he had no doubt if he used his pistol he’d make the kill. But it did defeat the whole point of him trying to learn the Na’vi way. So he waited, and waiting, his blue ears flicking and straining to hear Viras call.

He felt like he’d been waiting damn near an hour when his ear perked he heard the far-off “whoop” of Viras soft voice.

They came in closer and closer succession after that, so close he could also hear the rustling of something else approaching through the woods and feel the gentle thumping of the earth through the tree. The Recom na’vi stood slowly, his bare feet finding their foot on the branch. He readied his weapon and thought of Vira and slowed his heart with a deep breath. This all felt almost instinctual, was it the Na’vi DNA mixed with his own helping him? Was this something primal they all felt?

He felt the ground shift as the beast ran under the branch, his toes gripping the bark, yellow eyes sharp as he took aim and released the spear from his hands.

—

Vira and Miles celebrated his first kill into the night. His spear had struck true. Vira had called him down from the tree as she slid her knife across the creature's neck to end its suffering and thank Ewya for the energy they would receive. She couldn’t be anything but impressed with Miles, even if he was a demon, such a kill on a first hunt was impressive. His strike has been as true as any true born Na’vi.

They spent the rest of the day breaking down and preserving pieces of the animal, she taught him how as they went but they worked quickly and she wasn’t sure how much of her teachings he absorbed. She reminded herself that after they consumed this kill she would make him say the prayer next time. That was a thought for the future, for now, they sat by the fire cooking their Yerik and reliving the hunt.

“You were so strong and fast!” Vira praised as she mimicked the movement of throwing a spear across the fire from him, cooking meat on twigs. Her next project for the fire would be to make a spit and a smoker soon, better cooking and preserving but this would do for now. It would fill their bellies.

“I heard you and felt it coming down the path just like you said, felt the tree and all. That was just incredible.”

She smiled at him “See? The energy flows through all things.”

He gave her a skeptical look like he still didn’t believe in Ewya's presence. Her orange eyes searched his yellow ones. How could he not? The atokirina' chose him, he felt the rumble through the tree. All things were connected. All energy borrowed from the great mother, energy they would all have to return one day.

She moved the meat from the open flames and handed him a piece to eat still on the stick. They each devoured their food in silence and Vira pondered how to make him see. Would he ever? It was part of the Na’vi way, surely she needed to show him.

As she looked down upon the glowing jungle from their Hometree, an idea struck her.

“Come,” Vira stood grabbing onto his hand, attempting to pull him up. The pink na’vi knew she could not lift him but he relented and got up and scrambled down the tree's massive vines behind her.

When they reached the floor of the jungle, it was lit up with all its nighttime glory. Most of the vegetation held a faint flow, the grasses beneath their feet shined bright with contact.

“Come, come,” she beckoned him further into the jungle along the trails, dragging him by the hand. She flushed a little at the touch, thankful for the darkness, still not understanding why he made her feel that way.

Light was created everywhere in the wake of their movements, with every step and touch of plant life. Vira let her fingers trail along a row of shrubs, lighting the way. They came to a grouping of trees where glowing moss flowed from tree tree-like rivers. This is what she has been looking for, what she thought would show him.

“Do you see?” she gently touched the moss, the light brightened and dissipated but clearly spread out from the spot she touched until it disappeared. “All is the Great Mother's energy, we borrow it from her. Some day it must return .”

“Yeah, yeah, circle of life, Kum ba yah bullshit, I get it.” He mumbled but his eyes didn’t match the disinterested tone.

Vira watched his yellow eyes dart around the forest with interest and wonder. Had he truly never really looked at the beauty of their home at night? She watched him experimentally touch the moss and other plants with his five fingers as they continued walking. She smiled a little, he didn’t believe her but it would take time. At least he saw the beauty in the jungle.

There were tall orange rounded flowers along the path they had been following, their petals glowed beautifully, so different than most of the pink, purple, and green hues. Vira knew them as txon ’ong. Their nectars were drunk at celebrations if one drank too much they might have trouble walking, or sleep most of the next day, sometimes it was said challenges of Combat were made when the nectars were consumed but that was few and far between. For most it made them jovial, some even said na’vi were said to feel closer to Ewya when they drank it.

They were celebrating his great victory, what could it hurt? She would be sure not to loose her wits.

—

Miles watched the albino Na’vi go to the glowing orange flower, bend its stem and drink from its rounded top.

“Txon ’ong, night blossom, celebrate.”

Quaritch shrugged and came beside her and did the same, bending the stem of the orange bioluminescent flower and taking a few large gulps. It was sweet at first but the aftertaste reminded him of some strong spirit he couldn’t quite place, maybe gin.

He let out a low whistle. “Well, now it’s a party, Tiny.”

Quaritch felt more relaxed from the blossom, whatever it was exactly made him lower his guard just a bit in the jungle, just like he had the first night he was injured. The first night he’d met Vira.

The forest was truly otherworldly at night, so different from anything on Earth. The pink na’vi teacher kept walking the trail and he followed behind, he felt more acutely aware of the lights they created. How the slightest bump or rustle made small chain reactions. No, Quaritch didn’t believe in some little tree god. This little display meant nothing in the end really to him, just a pretty little light show. Maybe it slightly proved to him what Grace Augustine had been blathering about, the connections between the trees and the plants. Miles had never gone out after dark onto the forest when he’d been human, especially not after dancing with the viperwolf his first day on Pandora. He could maybe, just maybe, be behind the science. Not the tree hugging hippie all mother crap.

They walked for what felt like a long time, enjoying the natural glow of the forest. Sometimes she’d have to come back and grab his hand to tug him along if she felt he was lagging.

They wandered to the clearing with the watering hole they’d found earlier. Quaritch rubbed his yellow eyes, unsure if the drink was playing tricks on him. The river, waterfall, and the little lake itself all lit up in a purple glow.

Vira laid down in the soft grass next to the water’s edges. It glowed around her pink form as she found and comfortable position on her back. Her orange eyes looked glossy from the nectar.

“Come, see the stars.” She patted the ground beside her, sending small shocks of green glow through the grass from her pink fingers.

Miles walked forward, only to be started by a group of fan lizards he nearly squished beneath his large blue feet. A dozen of them shot up around him, casting different colored hues onto him. The little guys were actually kinda cute.

Vira laughed at his startled expression. “Like a baby.”

He felt his face turn purple, this was all new to him. Normally he gave orders, normally he knew exactly what he was doing, not learning. Being called a baby by her again lit a little fire in his gut, he’d be the best goddamn Na’vi. He’d show her. He’s already made the kill today with the spear, something she didn’t think she would have been able to do herself. Instead of getting angry though, a roll of relaxation flowed through him, must have been the nectar because he laid down beside her and they stared up into the starry sky.

Vira pointed out the visible constellations and told him stories and names that different clans had for them. Quaritch was surprised by how much he enjoyed the little stories, they reminded him of Greek and Roman epics he’d heard on Earth. They also had horoscopes, different signs with different meanings that each Na'vi was born under.

In the middle of one story, his stomach let out a loud rumble, Vira turned on her side to face him and laughed, a deep one in her belly. The kind of laugh where sometimes no sound came out. He turned to face her too and laughed just as hard.

“Sign to go back,” she said between laughs, her large orange eyes crinkled at the sides from how wide she smiled.

—

A week passed in a flash, and Quaritch felt was managing to get a small handle on how the Pandora natives lived. He’d started keeping track of the days my making tallies on the trunk of the tree, where he often reclined against at their base camp. When Vira saw him marking the tree she’d decided to add to it as well, above his first 5 marks she’d taken her bone knife and crudely drawn him on a branch, victorious, as his spear pierced the Hexapede below. It was truly a primitive etching, it reminded him of cave paintings or even stick figures back on earth but they each knew what it was. He couldn’t deny it made him puff with a touch of pride inside when he looked at it.

The Hexapede had indeed been a boon for them, food to keep them fed, turned out he actually liked the taste of it too, especially when Vira put some hot spices on it, it reminded him a bit of Cajun cooking back on earth, from his human memories.

Vira was continually impressive to him, she was a hard worker and wasn’t scared of getting her hands dirty. She used every bit of the beast for something too. Guts and sinew for bow string, thread, and bindings, she uses its hide for laces and made clothing for herself. She didn’t wear her big collar anymore unless they went out hunting, just wearing leaves or flowers tied up intricately over her breasts or even just a string of beads and feathers that precariously covered her nipples but she seemed to have no shame in her lack of covering. She’d also made him a water bottle from the hide which proved useful. The Pink Na’vi didn’t want anything to go to waste. It reminded him of how it had bothered on some level him with the poachers killed the Tulkun, not that it was dead but because they'd wasted such a large animal for a few measly drops of liquid. Seemed wasteful and inefficient. He didn't care for innefeicies.

While Vira worked she also made sure she was teaching him something, either going over the techniques she used or quizzing him on his Na’vi language skills. He’d been working hard to memorize her little prayer the people said over the animal's bodies for when he next killed a critter, he wanted to be the one to finish his kill from beginning to end next time. Miles didn’t buy into any of the hippie tree-hugging crap she was peddling but he’d do the song and dance to keep Vira teaching him.

He’d remembered from his review of Sullys videos that he’d referred to learning from his woman as ‘learn fast or die’ but it wasn’t like that at all with Vira. She didn’t have contempt for him, she wanted him to succeed and was a patient teacher. He’d learned this past week she was kind and smart as a whip, and her English was improving much quicker than his Na’vi. Quaritch found an internal struggle over his Na’vi teacher, he was struggling to see her as just a helpful savage, that she's only a step above a monkey.

Having this time with just her and to just breathe, not chasing Turk Makto to the ends of Pandora, forced Quaritch to accept a few things. One of those being that his body was 20 year old Na’vi body now, but his mind was still that 51 year old hard ass marine. He’d known it since the minute we’d woken up with the rest of the Deja Blue but being out in the forest with no one but a local, forced him to take stock of things. Miles thought about his actions over the past 4 months chasing down leads with Spider, he really didn’t feel such intense hatred as he did back when he was human for the Blues or even when he’d first been decanted in space and decked Lyle in the face, thinking he was surrounded by enemies. He tried to work out if it was because of Spiders' influence on him or because he knew he was looking at a Blue when he looked in a mirror. Maybe he’d just gone soft, he was an old man in a young man’s body at the end of the day.

They settled into an easy rhythm together, each taking care of things around camp, she’d give him Na’vi lessons on language, customs, and histories, and he helped her improve her English. Sometimes they’d race their Banshees around the treetops together and go off and explore. She was a hell of a flier, he learned the Banshee was nearly sacred to her people, the Tayrangi of the Eastern Sea. When Vira found out he hadn’t named his Banshee she scolded him, loudly, from the back of her golden one who he’d learned was named Stiwi. Mischief.

Miles had quickly pretended he misunderstood her question and said the royal blue beast named was Wasp, after his SN-9 WASP pistol. That felt fitting as anything the military dog in him could think of on such short notice. He supposed he could have just called it Banshee.

With there only two of them, they didn’t need to hunt or even gather every day, sometimes they’d just go for long jungle walks and she'd point out the flora and fauna and quiz him on what things were. She told him once he was more sure of his footing in the trees she’d teach him to swing from the vines. Images of Tarzan flashed in his mind. Things were simple but they were good. They’d gone back out another night and drank the nectar of the night blossoms again, she’s said it was really meant for parties and ceremonies but she said having some fun couldn't hurt. He wondered if that meant she was a bit of a troublemaker in her village, sneaking out to drink with the other village deviants when she’d been younger, like a teenage who snuck out through their window. The thought made me chuckle since now she seemed like a rule follower now.

Quaritch focused now on shaping the small segments of black stone, the same used to make the spearhead. Vira had been put in charge of making arrowheads today. The thought of shooting with a bow made him uneasy, he’d seen enough of Mrs. Sullys arrows to know how deadly they could be but it seemed an odd twist of fate that he’d have to learn to use the same type of weapon that ended his human life and got him into this na’vi body in the first place.

“Bows are ready,” Vira called as she walked along the branch holding a large bow she’d made for him. He took it from her and saw all the work she’s put into it. She'd carved intricate patterns into, way nicer than her crude little etching on the tree. It was dozens of stars forming the various constellations she’d pointed out to him during their time together drinking the night blossom. Vira had strung small tassels with beads made of teeth that she’d dyed different hues at the top where the strong met bow. The front had some kind of holder made of blue leaves that replaced a quiver. Miles tried to think if he’d ever gotten a gift that had so much work out into it. He’d seen her over the past several nights sitting across the fire from him instead of next to him as she normally did after dinner, working on something. He ran his fingers over the carved grooves.

“Thank you,”

“No need to thank, fine hunter deserves fine bow.”

He watched her pink skin flush a shade darker.

Quaritch had originally thought she flushed so often at him back at their first camp because she found him an attractive Na’vi, she was a young female after all, didn’t they have little infatuations and mess around like humans did? Just some natural instinct. He was a young male and she was a young female, that was all. Miles was sure there were plenty of forest boys back at her home who’d thought she was a looker with those orange doe eyes, they were warm and inviting like the first rays of sunshine. Miles' mind thought back on Vira being a young troublemaker and sneaking out with derelict jungle boys and getting drunk off the nectar in the woods. The thought of her causing mischief didn’t seem as amusing as much anymore.

The colonel shifted gears in his mind and filed away that he would have to ask one day about societal customs of recreational customs like courting and sex, it was so embedded in human society he assumed it had to be a part of the Na'vis. They were a humanoid society after all, no matter how primitive they may be. He’d heard mention from the science pukes of a mating season but he’d never really paid attention. Now that he was trying to get into the belly of the beast, truly know his enemy. He knew no information on the enemy was unimportant. It was all part of his mission to learn all he could.

That’s what he told himself anyways, it was practically a mantra in his mind at this point. Every question, every kindness he showed Vira, every moment spent together, was all in service to his mission. He was not enjoying himself out in the jungle with some native woman.

“One more,” the pink na’vi quickly made her way from him across the tree. He caught a whiff of her scent as the breeze blew, she smelled like a sweet lavender from the herbs they washed with and an underlying scent of something almost spicy, warm, and cloyingly sweet, that was just her scent. Her musk. It was all over the camp. He was sure he could track her scent at 100 clicks he knew it so well from his sensitive na’vi nose.

“Jeez Princess you’re spoiling me,”, he drawled to her, making her shade blush so deep it touched her ears.

Quaritch pondered then that she just flushed often because she got easily embarrassed and flustered. It was just harder for her to hide her flush than a Blue na’vi. He had just been reading too much into things.

She scrounged around in a pile of yerik bones and came back holding a bone knife, it seemed like she’d tried to make it comparable to his RDA combat knife in size and shape, he saw where she’d tried to even shape a serrated edge opposite the razor-sharp bone edge.

“Now that’s a fine blade, Tiny. Thank you.”

She handed him a sheathed to go across his chest, not unlike the ones he’d seen over Navi wear. He didnt know when she’d made the sheath either, had he just thought she was working on clothes or things for herself and had really been making him all these gifts?

He stood and slipped the sheath on over his tank top and put the knife in the holder.

“How do I look?”

Her orange eyes danced up and down his form, “more Na’vi every day.”

—

Vira and Miles scaled down to the base of their hometree, she was eager for him to try out the bow she had made for him. She had concerns that he might not have been ready to use it with his chest injury but he seemed stronger and stronger every day thank Ewya, he healed faster than she had ever anticipated. Maybe it was the great mother's plan to heal him quick so he could learn quickly. She had no other explanation, she hadn’t expected him to heal for a cycle, and they were not even halfway through.

The pink Na'vi brought paint down she’d made and marked three large yellow circles on the trunk for Miles to take aim at. Vira demonstrated how to shoot with her own bow, placing the arrow, nocking it, and letting go with her breath just like she taught him with the spear. She hit her mark first try in the center of the circle she was aiming at. The pink Na’vi smiled to herself, a bit smug, definitely more skilled with a bow than a spear.

Miles tried next, he seemed far less comfortable with the bow she noticed that he had with the spear. He handled it almost as though it may bite him. He knocked his arrow and took aim, his arrow falling below the circle he aimed from.

“Try another,” Vira ordered, she did a half circle around him, pink tail swishing in thought and he pulled another arrow back and it fell low again.

“I don’t think I’m meant to use a bow, Princess”

She made a thoughtful sound. “We need to fix your stance, that’s all. Pull back, do not release.”

He did as he was told and Vira got up close to him, chest to chest, she could feel his breath on her forehead, hear his soft inhales, and feel the rise and fall of his broad chest. She used her feet to push his legs into the proper position.

Vira took her small hands and lifted his drawing arm so his elbow was higher, she adjusted his bow arm by touching his forearm. To her those few moments she spent fixing his stance felt like an eternity. She turn her face up toward him, face flushed, surprised to see his yellow eyes were looking down at her and not at the target. His lips would have brushed her forehead if the bow did not prevent them from getting closer.

“Take a strong, deep breath,” she moved her hands to gently touch his abdomen. Vira heard the deep inhale and felt him take a deep breath. Kentens danced in her stomach and heat pooled to her face and between her thighs.

“Now try again.” She broke away from the close contact.

Vira watched his strong arms release the arrow with his breath. It whirled through the air, hitting its mark.

—

For dinner they ate the smoked spicy yerik she’d cooked, the smoke preserved the meat so it was good for several days but they would need to hunt soon. Vira was excited to hunt with her new bow, she was not the strongest or greatest hunter but she was skilled with a bow. If they had more numbers she’d consider they go hunting talioang on their Ikrans but with only two it would be hard and too much meat to try and eat. When she brought him back, he could try with the clan.

Still hungry after eating the meat she grabbed a Yovo fruit to peel and eat while they sat propped against the trunk of the tree on the sleeping mat. Miles sat beside her with his arms resting on his knees, legs spread apart, and relaxed as his large body took up extra space. He plucked the fruit out of her hands before she could even draw her knife from her thigh. Vira whined indignantly at the theft.

“Oh come on now, didn’t your mama teach you to share?” He looked down at her wickedly, “I can try out your gift,” he pulled the bone knife from the holster on his chest, its sharpened edge shining low in the firelight.

Vira rolled her eyes but didn’t say anything to Miles as he began to peel the fruit. Vira had come to enjoy watching his hands work with the extra finger, she no longer found it alien or even him really alien over the past several days, he just needed a teacher. The watched as he expertly used the knife she’d crafted for him, it made her happy to see it put to good use.

“See somethin’ you like there Princess?” He quipped as he kept peeling, Vira hasn’t even tried to hide that she was watching his hands.

She smiled and ignored the heat rushing to her face. “Your hands, too many fingers. Should be clumsy.”

“Here I thought I should be flattered with you staring and you just want to pick on my hands.” He laughed and laid his hand flat on his leg closest to her, palm up and open. He wiggled his fingers.

Vira tilted her head, orange eyes sparkling up at him with fascination. “Can I touch?”

He nodded and surprised at her own boldness, Vira took his hand in her own two. She was curious in nature, always wanting to learn and see and touch all she could. Greedy for knowledge.

She traced the lines of his blue hands, moved the smallest finger up and down and bent it. She bent Miles's whole hand in a fist, it shouldn’t have worked with 5 fingers but it did. She had him hold up his hand and lined it up her own with it, thumb to thumb, finger to finger all minus the small one. Not so different. He surprised her when he wrapped his small finger around the back of her hand and curled the tops of his larger fingers over her small ones.

Viras smile reached her eyes and glanced at him, she couldn’t read what the gesture meant behind his yellow eyes. It was a gesture that Na’vi did, it had no real meaning to them but something they did with babes and younglings. It was something her father had done many full sky cycles ago.

Miles pulled his large hand away and resumed peeling the Yovo fruit, he halved it and handed it to her not bothering to cut it more. His yellow eyes looked far away while he ate.

Last Chapter - Next Chapter

Master List

Taglist: @bandomonia @milknhonies @hobnob2020 @nissilou @neteyamsbulletwound @bitchykittenconnoisseur @missroro @unhingedcanary @whoreforquaritch

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genshin-side-piece · 2 years

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Yandere Pierro

I want to talk about this one, because he is equal parts intriguing and terrifying as a Yandere

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, MDNI, implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, implied drugging, dub con, power imbalance, mind control, my bad writing and silly ideas, anything else I may have missed

This man had to watch his entire society fall to ruin. Even if he never had a family, there were still people he knew and loved that perished. You can’t tell me that he wouldn’t cling to what little happiness he can find in this world. I get a hunch he would be fiercely protective of his darling. Like, I’m talking Diluc level protective, if not higher.

Pierro doesn’t strike me as the paranoid type, but he would be 100% down for keeping the evils of the world away from his precious one. Your safety is paramount to him. That’s why he trusts no one but himself to look after you.

He keeps you nearby. The space is sequestered deep within Zapolyarny and is set up so that it can be monitored 24/7. Since the possibilities are there, it has its own independent water and ventilation system in the event that something happens to the palace. It’s even climatized for comfort. The Snezhnayan weather is infamous when it comes to the cold. Pierro doesn’t like the idea that you should be burdened with heavier clothes just to keep warm. Not when you look so nice in thin silks or nothing at all. Why shouldn’t he make sure you can be like that all the time? It’s beneficial for both of you if you are.

(As a side note, I want to believe that over the years, Pierro has found a way to surround himself with his favorite creature comforts. I would love to get to him and everything related to him is reflective of where he comes from. Assuming he’s Khaenri'ahian, it would be cool to find that his corner of the world is a recreation or reproduction of Khaenri'ah in some way.)

He justifies the space’s existence as a safe room should he need it. Nevermind that everyone involved in building it or working on it, outside of any harbingers, were eliminated and its location in the palace is generally unknown.

Your earthly possessions are limited and highly controlled. He refuses to entertain the possibility that you would injure yourself. So he makes sure you can’t.

Pierro uses synthetic humans as guards and servants to tend to you when he’s not there. They operate on a specific protocol under the guise of keeping you safe. Interactions are limited to polite greetings and assurances that your lord harbinger carries the deepest affection for you. Why else would he go to such great lengths to protect you?

Listening devices, and a crude form of video surveillance that Dottore and Sandrone developed thanks to the tech from the Ruin Golems are employed as additional security. Pierro has a small console to access the feeds. It generally stays locked up, but he does check it a few times a day, just to ensure everything is okay.

Any changes in your behavior are automatically reported and investigated. There would be zero chance of getting away from him. Even death wouldn’t be an option. Among his many projects, Pierro is actively looking for or already has a way to extend your life beyond its normal span. If he is doomed to walk Teyvat forever, then he will keep you by his side. He refuses to lose you as he has everyone else.

Your entire existence is buried under the highest security clearance the Fatui have. Only Dottore is given access to the project, but it’s limited. His knowledge of it extends to the fact that a special segment of him was specifically built for medical purposes only. It generally stays powered down and is wiped after every interaction. Any required records are securely locked away from prying eyes.

Compliance to his wishes is expected, but not assured. Nothing would give him greater pleasure than for you to return his affection. He longs to see love for him in your eyes, but he understands certain things may take time. As such he is firm, but gentle with you, especially in the beginning. You are irreplaceable in his eyes. When he touches you, it is with the greatest of care.

He’s a government official. He’s not unfamiliar with the concept of capturing and confining people. Pierro would be all too aware that there will be an adjustment period when it comes to your new reality. If anyone understands your loss, it’s him. How could he not when he's the source of it?

He carries no guilt for what he's done to you. The world is simply too dangerous for you. Your freedom had to be taken. Your choices had to be eliminated. He tried to bring you to him willingly, but you are a stubborn one, aren't you?

Your anger at him is understandable. He’s been there. He stood in the ashes of an old life once. He felt the undeniable grief that came from such a terrible loss. His ambition to change the world was born from that grief. While he doubts your adjustment will be that profound, he knows that you will adjust. Your grief for your past life will fade and like him, you will eventually move forward with your new one. Should you refuse to adjust and opt to wallow in your anger for too long though, he has ways of making you more pliant.

The Fatui have the possibility of mind control devices. They have two experts in it. There’s bound to be some sort of technology he can use. Barring that, mild sedatives keep you calm, while aphrodisiacs will have you on your knees with need. It’s all a lie, but it’s easy to set his pride aside when you’re begging for his touch. You can’t hate him when you’ve been fucked stupid, so it’s his pleasure to have you like that as often as possible. You’ll let him hold you then, mewling while his seed lewdly drips out of you and onto the floor. Perhaps he can encourage you to move on if you become addicted to his c*ck and how it can make you feel. Perhaps he can make you love him if you're needy enough.

If not, he has the ultimate trump card. He has the supposed Goddess of Love on his side. It would be nothing for the Tsaritsa to defy your will and give Pierro that which he desires most. She likes to keep her most loyal servant happy. Your eternal love is a fitting reward if it means he will continue to fulfill his promise of peace to her. She can change your anger to love in the blink of an eye. She can make you so utterly devoted to him that he’ll wonder how he ever lived without you.

Meanwhile, you’ll be none the wiser. You’ll accept this is how it’s always been, just like you accept the sun will rise in the east. You’ll smile for him when he confines you. You’ll love him when he’s cruel to you. You’ll submit to his whims and desires when commands you too. Because in the end, you’re forever his. Just like he’s always wanted.

#pierro #pierro genshin impact #pierro genshin #genshin pierro #yandere pierro #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere fatui #yandere fatui harbingers #fatui harbingers #the fatui harbingers #giving the old man some love

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puellamagi101 · 6 months

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On Kyubey

Kyubey is a pop-culture-entity, and like all other entities of that nature is given power by worshippers, in this case those worshippers are us Magical Girls. It’s not worship in the traditional sense, but our whole-hearted, sincere belief in his existence and our collected grief seeds maintain his powers in our universe.

But, that power is limited.

The wishes he grants fall in line with what we call magic here. Just like you can’t perform a spell to become a millionaire, or fly, or grow a second limb, Kyubey can’t perform that kind of miracle. But, he can surpass limitations a normal witchcraft practitioner cannot.

With most spellwork, it can fail and usually for good reason. It’s not the right time, it wasn’t in line with your path, etc. It just wasn’t going to happen. The miracles performed by kyubey ignore this, as that very path, your possible future before making a wish is what you’re trading for it. The miracle brute forces the universe, it is certain to come true if you hold up your end of the bargain.

This is also where Karmic Destiny comes in, people who have a higher level of karmic destiny from the onset can accomplish more with their wishes. The bigger the future you’re trading, the faster it will come about, the stronger it will be. This is how the miracle can overpower the laws of fate, as the contract wipes your future clean.

I’ve seen a lot of puella magi talking about things that kyubey has told them, that they won’t become a witch, that it’s all harmless- even that you can make multiple wishes. I feel sad for these girls, because that is simply untrue. I think they don’t realize fully the kind of entity they’re talking about, or if they’re being manipulated by a completely different entity.

Kyubey does lie (even if only by omission), he does manipulate, he is tricky- even if he wouldn’t claim himself to be.

That is why this path is not one to be taken lightly. This wish is one you’re trading your soul for, your very fate for. You have to think long and hard about the kind of wish you want to make, because it comes with a cost and cannot be undone.

Details of the contract

- Soul Gems

When a soul gem is created, it doesn’t exactly serve the same purpose as in pmmm. Your soul is placed inside the gem, allowing you to use magic but there are a few key differences. Your henshin is an astral double, projected from the gem and tethered to it. The gem on your henshin is the other end of the thread connecting your double to your body, so it’s destruction doesn’t result in your death- you’ll simply be pulled back into your body and out of the labyrinth.

I suggest finding a crystal, a necklace, ring or something that can always be on your person for the container for your soul. It’s easier that way.

I will note, we don’t drop dead when separated from it, but from my experience I have felt a little off when I don’t have it. In addition, when you don’t have it, your wish is nullified until you get it back. So I suggest keeping it on your person- without it, you can’t cleanse any impurities, utilize magic including your henshin or take advantage of your wish. You’d be screwed and pretty much damned to become a witch if it was permanently lost.

- Utilizing Magic in daily life

Some magic is universal to all of us, basic healing, the creation of weapons and defensive magic, but on top of that we can use magic for other purposes.

It can be used to cast simple spells, using our own magical stores in place of energetic requirements (The planets, the divine, the elements, plant and stone energies), or add power to existing spellwork.

Most spells cast from your magic stores have to be in line with the powers your wish granted, if you’re only casting from your soul gem. Say you wished to make somebody happy, or for your own security. You’d be able to cast simple prosperity spells from just using your soul gem in the right headspace.

But, for boosting the power of spells, the purpose of the spell is inconsequential as we’re just putting more energy into it, which is then ‘flavoured’ so to speak by the other elements of the ritual.

Bear in mind though, this uses up your magic and will taint your soul gem. So I don’t recommend it unless you have a surplus of grief seeds.

#irl magical girl #madoka magica #pmmm #pop culture witchcraft #witchblr #witchcraft #pmmm kyubey

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karazorel7 · 8 months

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Just a thought.

In the JJK manga, Tengen talks about Toji as the man who broke fate and changed “destroyed” their destinies, the fate/destiny that bound the Star Plasma Vessel, Six Eyes User, and Tengen together.

And while that’s true, I believe that even without Toji, their fates would have been altered in a similar way because of Gojo’s choices and the support he received from both Geto and Yaga-sensei. We know that Geto , in their teen years sort of served as not only Gojo’s friend and equal, as his moral compass, and who’s support he relied on emotionally. Yaga was their teacher and then friend. The most important contribution Yaga made to them was seeing them as people, and not as tools to be used.

In Chapter 72, Geto gives Riko a choice as to whether or not she wants to go through with the merger. He explains that When they were given the mission, it seemed like Professor Yaga thought of it as “something wrong”. When we consider Yaga and his ability (creating cursed corpses) we can understand why the notion of just using a person to erase their soul and take over their body would be so objectionable to him. However the important thing is unlike the “higher ups”, Yaga didn’t order them to do something, he didn’t think of his students as tools to be used to facilitate the erasure of an innocent girl for the furtherance of Tengen (even though having Tengen around and functional in her transferred state would be “beneficial “ to many people, including Yaga and his “creations/ children”). It’s this manga’s version of the moral question of if it is okay to kill one person, to save many. Rather than ordering them , he gave them the mission “implied” the moral issue, but left it up to them to decide what to do.

Talking about it amongst themselves, they had agreed to protect Riko from everyone, including Master Tengen.

Coming to this decision together, they had decided that no matter what, they would defy Tengen and go to blows if necessary all to secure Riko’s future. This is something a Six Eyes User had never done before, as far as we know. The Six Eyes User did appear through time as a protector for the Star Plasma Vessel , but not as a protector from Master Tengen herself.

I think this situation also serves to answer the question that Geto posed to Gojo after Geto had gone rogue.

“Are you the strongest because you are Gojo Satoru, or are you Gojo Satoru because you’re the strongest.” In other words : Are your abilities what define you, or is it your personality (who you are as an individual) that defines who you are?

This has been the question that has haunted Gojo for his entire life, even before us was voiced by Geto. He was celebrated, revered , adored, and even hated because of the gifts he was born with. But Gojo was always lonely inside because he felt like he was just seen as “The Six Eyes User with Limitless” vs people loving him as just himself: Satoru .

With the incident involving Riko, we see Satoru as an individual, with the support of his friend and also his mentor, going against his fated task of protecting the Star Plasma Vessel FOR Tengen ,and instead committing himself and his gifts to protect the Star Plasma Vessel FROM Tengen.

This is why I believe that it’s wrong to just think that Toji is to blame for the situation as the “Man Who Broke Fate.” even though he was, for all intents and purposes . But that is just a surface level understanding , in my opinion. Rather , we should must also think of Gojo as the “Man who Wrote His Own Fate” ,with the support as people who saw him as his own individual , divorced from his power.

Ironically though I would say that Gojo, even while making his own individual choices. He still was able to protect the vessel that I think will be used to house Tengen : Yuji Itadori.

I can probably go deeper into that theory in another post. But in general it is my belief that Yugi will choose to absorb Tengen. Tengen who has been alive for waaaay too long , will probably choose to cede her consciousness to Yuji, in order to escape the cycle she is bound in.

Gojo, the Six Eyes User of the trifecta, has been protecting this new vessel in many ways. Keeping him safe from the higher ups and delaying their plans to execute him. (Potentially hiding away the last finger of Sukuna , so that he won’t be executed).Asking Yuta, to look after and protect Itadori etc.

To be clear, I don’t believe that it is Gojo’s intent to have Yuji absorb Tengen, rather I think it will just turn out to be that way. But instead of it being something that just “the six eyes user” was fated to do. It was Satoru Gojo’s own will and choices, and actions that brought this into fruition. (If that makes sense 😅)

One thing that stood out to me as well. Gojo gave Megumi the opportunity to choose if this new vessel (Yuji) lived or died. Which is ironic consider Megumi’s father chose to murder the last vessel. I think that Gojo, giving people choices rather than orders or making decisions for them, is his way of showing them that he sees them as people . That even though they are students , he still , as their sensei respects them. That was the same care and consideration by which Yaga guided both Gojo and Geto.

Anyway this has been too long! 😂 I just wanted to give a few of my thoughts about Gojo as a character. We know that he suffered from loneliness due to his immense power and ability, but his power itself was just a part of him, it did not “define” him. It was his own choices, attitudes,morality, personality, and compassion that allowed him to be the architect of his own fate , unlike other Six Eyes Users of the past, and truly made him “The Strongest” .

#jjk geto #jjk gojo #jjk thoughts #jjk riko #jjk toji #jjk theory #jjk yuji #jjk megumi #jjk tengen #jjk yaga #jjk yuta #satorugojo #geto suguru #gojo satoru #toji fushiguro #jujutsu kaisen

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whoppert · 2 months

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SUNNA 10 (loki/reader) (stephen strange/reader)

◂ previous chapter first chapter ▴

4945 words

warnings: the after effects of mind violation; canon-typical violence. minor gore; depictions of wounded animals

AO3 MASTERPOST

With that, we see the world through Loki's eyes . . . .

Another step towards the shirking Midgardian.

The right side of my face relinquishes the sting for a long steady burn. Oh, I don’t blame her for the slap, not really, she’s shown a penchant for explosive bouts of emotion, but the unexpected pain makes the uncivilized part of my mind react murderously.

"I'm sorry," she says, hands out in apology. "I'm sorry for hitting you."

I actively reel in the desire to kill her. I am provoking her for more than one reason, I remind myself. I need her mad. “I am willing to admit, transfiguring into the sorcerer was perhaps a bit harsh-”

She stops backing away unexpectedly, and I almost collide with her.

Her shoulders draw back, face contorting with anger. “A bit harsh? A bit harsh!? Are men not taught manners in Asgard? God, why are you such a fucking tool?”

AO3

"You know nothing of my background, I think all Asgardians are tools in one way or another.” I match her energy, each one of us refusing to back down, glaring at each other. Good. “I apologize if I upset you, but it certainly wasn’t personal. All in the spirit of fun.”

“That wasn’t personal? If you upset me?”

"That is what I said."

She is genuinely flabbergasted. "God, you're such a-! What did I ever do to you?"

"What do you mean? I'm here! Against my will! Fixing your mess." I gesture around us. This I genuinely believe. This is not my mess.

She's waving her hands in the air in front of her. "Woah, woah, what? You're still half responsible bud! I need you to be like so for real right now, this is your mess." Right fingers tap on her left palm in beat with her words.

“If I caused you harm it was indirect, I'll admit that much culpability, but I have been practicing magic for longer than your bloodline has existed. There's never been a problem before.” It's true.

“Indirect?” She's almost nose to nose with me on the sloped ground.

"Yes, indirect. If you hadn't been enchanted, then my involvement wouldn't have resulted in this. The enchanter - that is where fault lies."

"Okay? You can't just go into people's heads like that!" She's infuriated. I can feel it, feel all her emotions, hear it in all her thoughts. So... so close.

"Huh. Why can't I? Tell me, I implore you." I know how to sound audibly arrogant. I know the affect that has on someone already frustrated.

"You don't really plan to listen, Loki. We met, and granted I was a little rude, but who just meets someone and then stages a whole shitty diversion just to break into their head? How entitled do you have to be to do that to a person?"

Mind magic is a complicated thing. While I'm in her head I'm bonded to her. When entering a truly fragile mind, it's necessary to bond the guest consciousness to the host, it makes it easier to read the connections and to heal broken bonds. It tricks her mind into thinking I am one and the same. My magic will linger on her for days afterwards, stopping her mind from rejecting the supplementing power.

Such a long time has it been since I have attempted to heal a mind... I have been quite unprepared, forgotten what it is to feel as another feels, hear what another thinks without escape.

It means I feel the throbbing of her pain. I don't like it.

"Do you really think that that's okay?”

I am forced to steel myself. There is a higher purpose to this. Her pain as long as I feel it is my pain, and it makes me want to bite like a wounded dog. I channel that feeling, as I have done so for a millennia - from lashing teeth to a single precise blade. "Sunna, I have met hundreds of thousands of peoples, in different realms and different places. Your kind are born and grow old in the blink of an eye to me. You are nothing to me. I care little for the vapid sensibilities of the common man, just as you cannot weep and wail over every insect killed in your presence because you will never be able to carry on. I am a god and you are a girl. Do you blame a gust of wind for blowing down a castle made of sand? No. No amount of tact could make such a truth easily digestible, and you simply will not be able to induce guilt in me for it."

"Fuck you."

Again, I don’t blame her for the punch. It is the risk you take with provocation. Her fist never makes contact with my face though, I am still quicker than she is, wrapping my fingers around the assailing wrist and holding it firmly in my hand. Unsuccessful attempts to wrench out of my grip were made, and it's harder to restrain her than it technically should be. Perfect. Sunna’s anger is making her stronger.

“So you just mess with people- what- because you can?”

“More or less."

She is preparing another strike.

"Time ever marcheth forth and when you live as long as I do you find entertainment wherever you can.”

I grab her other wrist as well, halting the right hook.

Genuine surprise weaves through the timbre of my voice, “your swings have good form. I refuse to believe that Strange taught you how to fight. That buffoon couldn’t throw a half-decent punch to save his life. Stop it, you’re going to strain a muscle."

She swears at me again.

Something in the air shifts, enough to pull my attention to our surroundings, only for a second but long enough that she pulls me off balance, forcing me to take a step forward. She uses the momentum to grind her heel down on the top of my foot. In real life, this wouldn't have hurt, wouldn’t have caused me to yelp in pain as I did. Every other form I take, I take with me the durability of an Asgardian.

“No matter what I do, what questions I ask, you spin into conspiracy theory, like trying to poison me against Stephen, I know what you're doing-"

"Acknowledging reality is not poisoning."

"You are actually crazy! Like I knew you dressed well, but the way you accessorize the tin foil hat - that's crazy. You wanna talk about bugs? Talk about animals? You’re like a fucking animal skulking around, lying and chipping away at my sanity piece-by-piece. You didn’t put this spell on me, fine, you didn’t intend to cause me harm? Fine! But you fucked up that spell, you fucked up my head, and everything would have been fine if you didn’t feel entitled to other people’s brains and business, so forgive me if I couldn’t give two shits if you did it directly or indirectly. You owe me a solution!”

There's a pregnant pause while she waits for me to say something, my foot tender and throbbing. “You think I dress well?”

Another shift in pressure. The memory around us fades away.

The night sky around gives way to masonry, mortar appearing before bricks, sprouting out of the ground like some bamboo made of only right-angles, the bricks grow in, strange rectangular fruit. The roof was the final thing to form, snapping on and blocking the newly risen sun.

Encased in the walls of the top of a stone clock tower, she shows Memory-Strange some magic she had learnt as a child, waving a hand through the bell that signaled the changing of the hour. A purple glow has washed over her features. It seemed to catch in the sorcerer’s eye.

“This is my mind,” the real her contended. “You do not get to act this way in here, this is my head.”

The walls of the tower crack and the ground jolts, shards of another scene loitering behind the set. She is almost there, unwittingly close to a breakthrough.

The automatic door to the local gelato shop slid open with a beep, complete with a welcome mat outside, with the words ‘ice to meet you!’ emblazoned in pink. The inside of the shop was almost empty, but she sat with Wong in one of the shop’s pastel tables, eating their gelato and talking.

“I don’t care what you do out there in the rest of the world but you don’t get to come here and laugh at my memories and torture me because you got bored. Get it together! I have no memories, Loki! My brain is so broken! My body could give out on me any second, everything hurts and my magic is gone. I’m scared, so you need to step up! I need you to step up. You owe me.” Color blooms high across her cheeks.

The gelato shop shudders, splintering away, thrusting us into an intoxicated New York city night.

The lights were too bright, so much so that they hurt her eyes. She could hear every sound around us, every hum of a motor vehicle, the rustle of trash being kicked on the sidewalk, and people speaking to each other in various tones all of which were so intrusive that they thudded against her skull but still she couldn’t make out a single word of conversation.

Ah, here we are. The underlayer.

Her pain transports me. Once when I was small, Odin took me out into the forest to hunt. I did not take to physical endeavors in the same way that my brother did and I was acutely aware of how this made me lesser than Thor. Still I was young, and was always chasing the ghost of approval that Odin gave occasionally - not enough to sustain me, but often enough that I was haunted with the need to make him proud of me. Desperate for more.

I did not rejoice in the killing of animals. More often than not it would do little more than to wash me with nausea, but that day we had laid a trap for a bear, a clamp with so much force that it would be able to restrain the beast long enough for Odin to kill it. We sat in wait until the sun set and rose and set and rose again, the time being of little burden to us.

We sat until a reindeer, antlers freshly shed, wandered near. He called for his kind, but there came no reply.

“He is lost,” Odin said.

So profoundly alone, just as I was.

Odin knew of the magic mother was teaching me, and had forced me to render us invisible to the forest, he had said he didn’t want me to be a distraction when the bear came. Through the lens of an adult as I now am, I can see that it was more important for him to model to me what he thought a great warrior should be, to stroke his own ego, because surely the reason I was such a disappointment is because I had not seen him kill personally. But this was no bear. This was a reindeer, lost and alone, and stepping awfully too close to the trap. For a moment I forgot about the spell and I moved to stop him, to chase him away.

“Halt,” it was a simple command from my father, and it was all that it took to freeze me in place.

The deer was going to step in the trap. “Please, father,” I could not drag my eyes from the beast, “we came to conquer a bear, not this. This is not worth our time,” my voice sounded more practical than I felt.

“Watch.”

The deer made only one misstep, and the teeth of the clamp reared up. This trap was made to subdue a creature much bigger and stronger than a reindeer, so the first sound to echo through the forest was the snapping of delicate bone. The second sound, a scream of agony.

I could not move. I was not allowed to. Odin insisted that I watch. If it were a bear caught, he would have charged in and killed the beast (not without show), but death would have been swifter than the slowly encroaching starvation and blood loss. The trapped animal moaned and cried out. Time passed, how much I did not know, but even now, a millennia later I can see the animals panic and terror shift into anger as though it were before my own eyes once again. Asgardian animals are often more conscious than their Midgardian counterparts and I swore I could see the moment that it decided to gnaw off it’s own limb, now broken in several more places from its wild thrashing. Blood pooled around it. After hours of suffering, it tore through its own sinew and muscle, the gore lashed between its teeth.

It was free... but only managed one shaking step before it collapsed. It had lost too much blood, exhausted and in shock. Even with the lengths it had gone to to free itself, it would die soon anyway. Finally, Odin sent in his wolves to end the deer’s life, and my eyes shut tight, so I could spare myself a fraction of the horror that I had been forced to see.

“Open your eyes and watch, boy.” Odin’s words echoed through my mind, and I am brought back to the scene in front of me, bright lights and loud noises, Sunna standing in front of me, the only respite from the calamity.

“Fine. I agree. I’ve behaved out of line, I apologize.”

She did a double-take, trying to figure out if I was being sincere. It was an expression I had seen on many faces over the years. "Why?" She asks.

I do not answer her.

We had broken through to the underlayer of her subconscious, to the memories she could not access by natural means, and it is represented by the New York cityscape stretching out in front of us.

I swept a hand out gesturing down the never-ending block. “When we first entered your mind, we could only access the memories closest to the surface, the ones we knew you to possess, solidified in your mind, untouched by the spell or by the actions of... unaware third parties. We now find ourselves in the deeper layer of the mind, so to speak. This layer is only accessible through a deep emotional outburst.”

"I guarantee that if you have let me know, I could have had a sufficient mental breakdown without all of that. So I'm still mad at you."

"It has to genuine, raw," I insist.

She rolls her eyes, and the expression is quite attractive on her.

“You're so cruel.” It wasn’t an accusation, more of a statement, without mirth.

She is not the first and would not be the last to tell me this.

“I would say it was unbecoming of a prince, but your reputation is built on cruelty. The old stories, the Battle of New York, the way you treat Stephen. Cruel. An apology doesn't hide it.”

“Did you hope to wound me with that comment?”

She swallows. “Yes.” It's honest.

Each memory we watch is framed with a kind of ease after that.

Nothing flows as it should in here. It is starting to become alarming.

Her mind should respond to her intuitively, but it does not. There are no full memories, only fragments left and distorted.

I can feel her frustration lap at me, threatening to boil over any minute.

For the second time I channel the häxeri, witchcraft. A gift from my dearest mother. The darkness flows as I hum. Let me find the threads of her core. Show me the damage. Show me the bonds broken that I may heal them.

Around us, pieces of her bedroom flow into place like smoke. It is a memory of me, the memory of me.

We watch as she snatches the laptop from my hands.

Suddenly I see her perspective of me, tinged with frustration and fear, as I loom over her. She is a reindeer nearing a trap.

Memory-Loki is forced into the armchair, but her powers are unrefined, and she's using anger as her motivator. A burst of green light knocks her to the floor, and in response she aims a surprisingly well placed kick at my legs, which knocks me down hard next to her. She'd hit her head on the ground, and the memory fabric itself became hazy.

One of my own memories flashes behind my eyes, of Thor killing his goats. A predator. An impending doom approaching a trapped animal.

She jolts as I remove my palm from her forehead. Nothing had appeared out of the ordinary. Sunna stormed out of the Sanctum, her phone shoved hastily in her pocket before getting as far away from me as fast as she could.

The real Sunna stands in front of me, and she regarded the scene in front of us blankly. “I used to remember this, like really clearly,” she chewed on the skin of her bottom lip, “so vividly in the hours after it happened. Out there, I mean. But it disappeared like a slow leak. The details are fuzzier. I still remember, but it feels like all of the memories I've got are so fuzzy now.”

I feel sick.

"So how is what you do different from what Gorron does?" she repeats the question.

The first time she asked escaped my attention. I turn my gaze towards her, hyper-aware of her presence here with me. Every mind is different but this mind is so peculiar. "Gorron looks at your physical brain," I clear my throat. "He can watch a memory via osmosis by pressing on the brain tissue, but nothing so deep as this. I am inside your mind right now."

There is something she is feeling that I can’t identify. "How does it compare to the last time you were in my mind?"

"It doesn't."

"Well, how do we fix it?"

“I don’t know yet,” I answer. It's honest. She didn't believe me I could see it in her face. She feels as though I am holding out on her.

"How do you decide which questions to answer and which ones to cryptically avoid?"

"I flip a coin in my head."

The scenery changes around us. The walls of the Sanctum morphed into a place I have never been.

She was writing furiously on a clipboard, taking very detailed notes of the exhibit in front of her. The dark violet of the museum uniform blazer compliments her well.

It took several long moments for her to notice Strange from where he watched her, his face a mix of emotions. Finally, and with much convincing, he approached, stilling a few feet away. “Excuse me…”

She turns, immediately erupting in a smile. “Hi! Did you need some help?”

It took him a few too many seconds to reply. “Uh, yeah. I- I was wondering if you could tell me where the entomology wing is?” He was nervous.

"Of course!" She rattled off some directions, but when the confused look on Strange's face doesn't clear she endeavored to just show him herself.

We followed them to the entomology unit, watching their very first interaction.

"Big fan of bugs are you?" Sunna strikes up a conversation effortlessly.

"Uh, I suppose. Are you?" He looks at her so intensely.

They arrive at their destination.

"No, afraid not. I can't stand them to be honest, but the exhibit is really cool, there's a lot of really passionate people working that one!"

Strange thanks her, but as she walks away he calls out to her, "actually, this is embarrassing, but I totally, uh, spaced out. I meant- the Babylonian exhibition?"

"Oh, well, that's alright, I'm actually heading that way." She gestures for him to follow. "What brings you there?"

"The art, I guess. Big fan."

"That's cool! I don't think it gets the recognition it deserves."

"Oh yeah, me neither. I don't know anything about it. Maybe you could start me off?"

The pair talked for hours, completely absorbed in each other's company, touring the museum. Their humors seemed to mesh, and they have a surprising amount in common, fiercely academic, competitive, intelligent. Not once did anyone come check on her, to find out why she wasn't doing her job. Nor did her coworkers so much as glance in her direction. Finally, Strange managed to detach himself from her side long enough to leave.

"What woman talks to a stranger for hours at work without attempting to end the conversation?" I ask, turning to face the real her. "What woman isn't uncomfortable with this level of attention? Presumably you have things to do, you can’t just spend all your time talking with patrons, especially not just one."

She didn't reply, too busy staring at herself.

If there wasn't a soft rise and fall of Sunna’s chest, one might have wondered if she had been instantly petrified. The light behind her eyes had vanished completely. She did not move, had not moved after Strange left, but the other people of the memory continue on about their business, walking through the Cultures of the World exhibit, ignoring her. It was as if she wasn’t there.

We both stare for a few moments, until the background noise of the museum fades and silence grows louder and louder.

"What’s going on? Why aren’t I moving?”

“I don’t know.”

The lights of the museum blink off one by one. The doors are locked and still she does not move.

As though caught on a breath of wind the memory is gone.

“What the hell was that?”

“Do you remember anything like that?” I ask.

“Well I remember meeting Stephen,” she puzzled, “but I specifically remember finishing work, because the whole time I was super distracted by the idea of visiting the Sanctum. The Bleeker Street occultist is kind of a local legend and I had a professional curiosity in Stephen's collection of antiques- anyway, my boss called me out for not putting an artefact back into storage properly.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Like I remember, I never forgot. It was really embarrassing. Could that memory that we just watched be wrong?”

"If your mind is missing a part of a memory, it may distort it. Fill in the gaps, so to speak. Minds naturally do that all the time. It's possible that as sick as you are, it is unable to fill in those gaps and this is what it looks like.

She's uneasy. I'm uneasy.

We continue our way down the block. New York is an ugly, smelly place, and this has translated well into her memory. Still, even to the untrained eye this was, at best, a copy of the city, even excluding the piercing nature of the lights and the chaos of noise. Things hid in the shadows here, intrusive thoughts, feelings that she could not accept - though I drew attention to neither.

Another memory forms, growing from the roots up. A vast field of yellow wheat stretching out as far as the eye can see. Buzzing of insects and the humming of machinery somewhere far off. A cerulean sky spread like drop of ink in water.

“I- I don’t remember this.” Sunna corrected, “It's not in my living memory. Could this be a memory that I lost?”

I speak the word for 'yes' in her language, but I do not know.

The Memory of Sunna is next to us. She was not perturbed by the plants, nor the hot sun on her skin. In the distance appeared a woman, walking through lines of wheat to get to her.

We observe in silence for the five or so minutes it takes the woman to arrive.

She had long curly, light hair that seemed to poof up as though it defied gravity. Her skin was dark and almost tinged blue, as though it was reflecting the cloudless sky. But it was her eyes that drew us in bright with false joy. When she opens her mouth to speak, her voice matches the woman that had visited Sunna in her dream, who had come to warn her and teach her.

Sunna and I exchange a glance.

“You don’t know me, but I know you,” the woman called.

“Who are you?” Memory-Sunna asks.

“A friendly observer,” her laugh was delicate. “But I would like to offer you some advice.”

“Which is?”

“Run. Get away and never look back, don’t come back.”

“Come back where?”

“Home.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The cloud-woman smiled, but it was only a mask over heartache. “And you won’t remember this when you wake. I can only hope that Strange will be able to extract this dream.”

“If I won’t remember, tell me your name.”

“Kuema.”

The field vanishes, giving way to the city again.

"Or I don't remember it because it was a dream and no one remembers their dreams."

"Some do." I can't help it, but I don't tell her, because Strange can ruin his life on his own. "We have a name that carries a lot of power. It must be her magic that brings your dreams to you. Sister signatures. She must get her power from the same place yours comes from."

“Is she behind all of this?”

“Perhaps, perhaps she is another pawn, much like yourself,” I ran my fingers through the tall stalks of wheat. “On the bright side, this will all be a great story for your memoirs."

She gives me a look and I feel the accompanying feeling, but I can't decipher it.

Another memory begins to form around us.

An apartment. It was small, and had too many coats of paint, but still the light switches have a spot where the grease from hands had rubbed through the unsightly beige. The apartment itself was quite messy. Clothes and takeout containers were spread across the room, the kitchen had a sink of dirty dishes and the open door leading to the bedroom framed an unmade bed and a cold cup of coffee left on the bedside table.

The most curious thing of all was that the apartment is empty. No matter the memory, Memory-Sunna had always been there. This mind is unstructured. It's unsettling.

"This is my old place," Sunna remarked. "I lived here until I moved to the Sanctum. Is there any sign of a signature?"

A wave of my hand and the room is engulfed in purple. The surprise caused her to take a step back, bumping into my chest.

She looked up at me, eyes wide and apologizes.

"It's nothing," I reply but neither of us move. I get the impression that she is too frightened to, like she can feel something I can't.

"I don't think this is real," she said. Confusion.

For a beat everything is silent.

Without warning, the apartment disappears like sand down a storm drain. Again we are plunged back into the city, but all of the fragments that had been hiding in the shadows were emitting a piercing screech. Our hands clamped over our respective ears, but it was no improvement.

"Make it stop-" but Sunna is cut off.

A monster, the color of ash burst through a building, coming straight towards us. I used the seconds before impact to shove her out of the way, but the four legged beast clipped my shoulder and sent me staggering. The creature smashed through the front window of an office and skids across the marble floor.

We run in the opposite direction.

"What the hell is that thing?" She yells over her shoulder.

"Whatever it is, it's in a bad mood." I rub my shoulder. Ouch.

There's an alleyway ahead, I push her down it, following closely behind.

The sound of breaking glass echoes behind us as the monster makes its way back outside.

"Can't you do something about it?" A squeak escaped her when the creature made its way down the too-small alley, powering through the brick like it was snow.

"It's your mind! I have limited powers here," I snap.

"Well, use your limited powers to kill it!"

"I could give it a try and just hope that you don't die when I do that."

We burst from the alley and into a forest, the smell of moss surrounding us.

The monster did not follow.

She doubles over, her hands on her knees while she catches her breath. "You said that none of this is real, so that thing can't hurt us. Right? Please tell me that's right?"

"Would you like to test you theory?" My shoulder aches. "It's real and it isn't. I'm not just trying to be enigmatic. We can definitely get hurt here."

"So if that thing dies, I might die. And if we die in here, we might die out there."

I nod sharply.

In the distance birds begin to cry. Trees are being uprooted. Something huge crushes through the flora.

Again we run, but the beast is on our tail too quickly. It roars are visceral and loud.

A tree falls, the shadow on us growing larger and larger.

I send a wave of seidr at it, throwing it backwards and onto the animal with a disturbing crunch.

Beside me, Sunna yelps in pain. I feel it. She can feel the monsters pain, so I really can't kill it.

The trees began to thin, turning into wisps of smoke.

Fire overtakes the environment.

Fire rages on, and so must our protagonist . . . .

AO3 MASTERPOST

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avitus-ostrander · 1 year

Text

On Knives and Plants

I see a lot of people saying that Knives does not care about plants. That he treats them like things and takes away their agency.

Firstly, what agency?

Did they choose to be put in tanks and used for their ability to create? When they’re dying, do they say to someone “hey, I’m about to die. Please force me to use up all of my energy in one last, painful burst if it will make your lives better.”?

Could Knives go about things better? Of course. There are areas where one can say he is objectively in the wrong - that he is objectively doing something selfish. But when it comes to plants, I disagree.

I’ve seen people say all he cares about in Stampede is reaching the higher dimension. Why, though? What purpose does that serve if not to ultimately help the plants? He wants them all to be independent, like him.

In Stampede, Conrad says the plants are soulless husks. That that’s the difference between Vash and Knives and other plants. He says their true being is located elsewhere and their physical forms are just a window between those worlds.

If Knives feels this way, does it not stand to reason that he feels this because that is what he was taught?

Conrad also says that in order to give the plants souls, they must connect to the core.

Knives doesn’t need the core to help himself. If everything he does is selfish, there is no reason to include the plants at all.

If he considered himself better than them - if he thought they were soulless husks - he could just kill them. He doesn’t need their power in order to wipe out what remains of humanity. He can do that on his own. He made the ships crash without the help of plants. He destroyed Jeneora Rock using his own abilities.

He doesn’t even need to expend the kind of power he did at Jeneora Rock if he wants to kill humans. Knives could go from town to town, destroying these ‘inferior’ plants and leaving the people behind to suffer and die.

He doesn’t do that. He brings the plants with him. In Stampede, the red ones are to further his goals.

One could argue that is selfish.

Is it worse, however, than humans doing it? Knives is one of them. He believes he is using the last of their energy for something that will ultimately benefit all plants. The plants cannot fully articulate their will. Knives has to interpret it. He sees them suffering and it hurts him and he wants that to stop.

One could argue that he only does this to ease his own pain.

He is almost certainly projecting, to a degree. He knows how he would feel in that position. He is scared of what it means when he sees how little humans value the lives of plants.

I don’t think that means he doesn’t care about them. I don’t think it means he doesn’t feel for them.

Re-l makes some very good points about his behavior toward plants in the manga in this post. https://www.tumblr.com/re-l/713763378777227264/idk-i-guess-the-comparisons-between-tristamp-and?source=share

I agree with most of that. (Except where it concerns his behavior in Stampede, for the reasons I’ve mentioned above).

However, I will get into the manga myself a little bit here.

Knives lives his whole life in service of one goal. He says himself (Trimax vol. 8, ch. 2) that his only purpose is to save the imprisoned plants. He doesn’t say his goal is to destroy humanity. He just says that is an acceptable side effect of his actions.

When the plants ultimately abandon him, he says he’ll keep fighting, but only shortly after that he wishes for Vash to kill him. (Trimax vol. 14, ch. 7)

I’ve seen people complain about how he handles the dead plants in Stampede. In the manga, he and Vash both acknowledge that humans throw away plant corpses like garbage. (Trimax vol. 8, ch. 1) Many human funeral rites are designed to give peace to the living, but Knives is not going to find peace in using human rituals for dead plants.

Could he have come up with something better than decorating his piano room with them? Maybe. But I believe it is unfair to say he is wholly selfish there.

Look at how he reacts during the Last Run.

Here is a close-up of Knives’ expression in this scene. He looks like he is about to cry before he redirects that into anger.

And here is what he is seeing as he makes that face.

He reaches out to the plants. He demands that Conrad save them.

When the plants die, Knives falls to his knees. He isn’t attacking anyone yet. He doesn’t care about how he is perceived or about trying to act strong. He is truly devastated. It isn’t until Vash shows up that he composes himself. And it isn’t until Vash does not react to the plight of the plants that he becomes violent.

Plants are, arguably, the only thing Knives cares about in a way that is not twisted and selfish. He is willing to die for them.

He gives everything for them, in every iteration of Trigun.

#Millions Knives #Trigun #Trigun spoilers #It just hurts me to see people twist this genuine dedication and emotion into something disgusting and evil #He does not treat the people around him well #He does not treat his brother well #But I do not believe it was ever his intention to be cruel to plants #Even if no one reads this or agrees - I just needed to say it

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blacksupremacy86 · 10 months

Text

Usurping The Captain

Part 1

Superman is more than a major player now he is everything flying in the sky constantly in a loop all day every day to the worlds lack of shock and annoyance. He is catapulted in to a new way of life landing a nearby army base in The United States.

In a private area he lands causing a strange trigger erupting through the ground leaving the army in awe. The base is completely let out evacuating bending a bit more they pull their weapons out in an assault to push him back.

Clark laughs loudly his voice booms through the air circulating around the base thousand times over bouncing back. In a super higher pitch tone and long boomerang affect hits sending a sound wave to knock them out on to the dirty army base floor.

That is until Mr. Boy Scout himself threw his shield at force for me to catch as quick as I did and look on in disgust as he wore the red, white blue proudly as if it really matters at this point. All the effort will be for not as my sole purpose to the man who sent me free forever.

“What do you think you are doing here Kal it’s not allowed? You are a hero not a major

criminal or terrorist.”

“Yes! I forgot you were such a Boy Scout blah pathetic. What a wast of time and space.”

“Be careful for you next few words my friend it may be your last.”

“Like if you could stop me Steve not even a bit closer.”

Captain America lifts his shield in the air to face his ally he presses in the handle in the back of the shield causing the device to glow brightly with an emerald green covering the entire base.

Clark facial expressions goes from utter lack of shock to fear as he begins to faint to the floor dropping to his knees the pain on his face is so apparent.

The man clicks the button with the shield hit with energy transforming it traveling to the tip of the shield gathering together it blast a laser at his feet locking him up in dark green bubble.

Superman flows in to the air spinning lightly around the area draining him of all his full power and energy consuming him in his own prison Cap smirks. Launching his shield as the ball constantly attacking it with hits, kicks, punches and more.

“Why won’t you surrender or give in to the law Superman? Do not make it harder.”

“Because I am the greatest hero in the world and I am true villain.”

“Blast you! I will bring you in one way or the other.”

“Believe what you want Captain but I have already one.”

“Wait what? Why are your eyes lighting up like that?”

“Peer in to my eyes Cap”

“No! No! Nnnnoooooo”

“Mwahahahahaha “

“Welcome to my nightmare!”

“Kal is that you ?”

“The new and improved me”

“Why did you trick me?”

“I told you “

“You already won”

“Master Lawrence “

“He made this possible “

“He cleansed me”

“He gave me a real start “

“No more evaluating “

“No more watching out”

“No more walking on glass “

“I can’t fight it, I can’t lie, I am his and I am Captain America.”

The end

Recruiting Purposes

Buckley Barnes has been on a mission to be able to find his best friend Captain America all the search lead him to a strange building in the middle of nowhere.

Flipping off the helicopter on to nearby roof top he rolls to the edge backflipping to the glass roof tied window he peers down in to the room.

One guy notices him so he shrugs smashing in to he window falling in to somersault like super hero landing then proceeds to break every bone available.

Shuffling through the room he cracks a steel door open using as shield to the block the oncoming henchmen gunfire is going on in galore.

“Think these bone heads would know now k am by now.”

“Also not to mess with me”

“ENOUGH! Geez”

“This generation “

“God! I am old”

“Focus”

“Steve must be held down below”

“I have speed up my time “

“Can’t waste a second up here “

“A elevator”

“I’ll climb up on top of it”

“Then what dummy?”

“Who am I talking to ?”

“The Winter Soldier”

“No it can’t be! I am going crazy “

“Bravo Buck”

“Steve and Clark”

“Why are you free?”

“We came to collect you “

“Ahhhh”

“Ugh!”

“Why?”

“Stop being a bitch!”

“We came to save you “

“Put the ugly past to rest”

“Indeed to bed”

“You can’t….this dream”

“Poor sweet Bucky”

“You really think so”

“We are in your mind”

“There no running away “

“I want to give in…I love to obey Master”

The end

#captain america steve rogers #chris evans #hypnosis #mind control #reprogramming #hypno slave #bucky barnes #Sebastian Stan #The Super Harem #taking ownership of him

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ahdraftingco · 2 years

Text

Chapter Three: Never Submit To A Madman | Series: Lesson Learned

Pairing: The Mandalorian x Reader

AO3 Crosspost: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40653303

Rating: Explicit, readers are advised to read the warnings below before proceeding.

Series Warnings (in no particular order): Porn with Plot, Dark!Din Djarin, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Extremely Dubious Consent, Hate Sex, Master/Slave Relationship, Knife Play (Minor Cuts/Blood), BDSM, Rough Sex, Genuine Fear, Sexual Coercion, Power Play, Degradation, Face Slapping, Spanking, Choking, Gagging, Enemies to Lovers, Possessive Behavior, Spit, Forced Orgasms, Hair Pulling, Multiple Orgasms, Threats of Violence, References to Death/Suicide, Stockholm Syndrome, Emotional Manipulation, Book of Boba Fett Spoilers

Chapter Summary: The Mandalorian has no idea how to deal with you. You're a loose cannon, always testing him, always getting on his nerves, always making his life difficult. But then, there are pockets where you act so broken that he doesn't know how much further he can break you before breaking himself…

Word Count: 11.7k+

***This chapter is part of my Lesson Learned series, if you haven’t read the other chapters, go to the series masterlist: here!***

A/N: As always, please read ALL the specific warnings for this chapter before proceeding: illness/fever, mentions of vomit, LOTS of angst, genuine fear/peril, knife play (we're back bitches!), blood, spit, cuts/bruises, gun kink (oop-that's a new one), predator/prey dynamic, threats of violence/murder, ignored pleas (he doesn't listen to you, he's very mean!), little to no comfort (lol sorry…)

Read with caution (mind the warnings please!) and plan proper aftercare, this chapter gets real dark so please don't come at me if you ignored my warnings and decided to read without knowing the stakes! The stakes are high in this chapter! It's quite the thrill(er) ~ ♡

You don't know what to make of what's been going on and you're honestly too tired to think all that deeply about it. The more you think, the higher chance you'll slip into one of those dangerous thoughts that will only ruin you in the long run.

You can't fall in love with the Mandalorian.

You simply can't. It's not something that is possible for you. It won't work out. He'll have won and then he'll kill you. That's the game.

But, is death all that terrible compared to what's been going on? You don't know. You really don't.

It's hard to tell which is worse: the degrading, overly possessive, rough sex or the puzzlingly warm and gentle aftercare?

It's tearing you apart and that's purposeful. When you and the Mandalorian have your bouts of pure hate sex, it's raw and there's no feelings attached. It's just to blow off steam and for him to own your pleasure for a moment.

Afterwards, it's a whole different story. You cry a lot. It's uncontrollable. You can't handle the emotions that build up and it just spills out. You wish you didn't want to be held by Din in those moments. You wish you could just deal with it on your own but you can't. It hurts too much to handle alone but then when he has you wrapped in his arms, you don't know if the heartache from his warm embrace is any better.

These moments, these "breaks", they are the only times you get to see him. The version of Din that you actually want to be with. But, you know he doesn't exist. It's all a trick and you need to use it for your own sake, as much as it pains you to do so.

That's what you tell yourself. You tell yourself that you're manipulating him as much as he's trying to manipulate you. You're trying to get him to feel bad for what he's putting you through. That's what you're claiming to do.

However, in reality? You need that kinder, more caring version of Din or else you'll break apart entirely. You wouldn't be able to deal with any of this without him…but you'll never admit that.

Never. Absolutely not. You won't lose.

You can't lose. It'll be over when you do…

There are only two routes you can take that are in your favor: either you find a way out of this collar so you can run away or you kill him and be free forever. There's no scenario where it works out for the both of you.

You shouldn't even dream that such a scenario exists. Why would you want to be with the man who has been holding you captive? Why did you ever even consider it?

The Mandalorian is cruel, sadistic and wants nothing more than to ruin you before he kills you. That is not the type of a man to fall in love with. He's the enemy that you need to escape.

If only it were that easy to flip the switch in your brain when he acts so gentle with you. You try to believe that he is nothing but pure evil but when he's patting your head and telling you that you're safe, it's so fucking hard not to lean in and just accept that comfort wholeheartedly.

You don't know how long it's been. Maybe a week or two. It's hard to tell. There's been a storm raging outside of the cave, which means you're stuck with the Mandalorian.

You've tried a few times to run from him in hopes of losing him in the bad weather. They don't end well. The collar has an even tougher connection than the last and with just a flick of his wrist, he can establish the link and pull you all the way back without breaking a sweat. Then, he punishes you for trying to run in the first place.

All of his punishments involve some kind of forced orgasm or orgasm denial. Either he wants you to beg to finally come or he makes you come so much you can't take it anymore. It drains you of all your energy and you're sure that's why he does it. There's no reason for him to actually want to give you any kind of pleasure.

You wish it didn't feel good. You wish your body didn't crave the way he could make you feel. You wish you could just disconnect completely and not be present but you can't. He makes sure you're fully aware of who's giving you an orgasm. Your mind knows, your body knows, your heart knows.

It burns for him in the worst kind of way.

Though, that's probably just the fever. It's so cold in the cave with the storm and no matter how many layers you wear, they always end up off one way or another, so it's not surprising that you fall ill.

You don't say a word about it. Why? You don't know.

A part of you thinks it's better if you're sick because then you can blame your weakness on something else other than yourself for a moment. It catches up to you quickly though and Din takes notice when you wake up with a jolt, sweating like crazy.

"You're burning up." He tells you as his hand lays on your forehead. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"As if you actually give a shit." You reply rather harshly, not wanting to deal with him right now. "I just want to sleep so leave me alone."

You flip over so you don't have to face him anymore, scooting as close as you can to the wall of the cave that the bed is pressed up against. You wince just a little as you curl up into yourself, the soreness between your legs reminding you of what happened prior to you both falling asleep. You really are burning up though because there's an unbearable heat that's making your head throb and you feel like you're going to throw up. Thankfully it's just a feeling and you force yourself to keep it as that.

That is, until the Mandalorian tries to stuff a pill in your mouth and you nearly vomit from that. You keep it together though but not without cussing him out, "I'm trying to sleep, can you not shove shit down my throat right now!"

"You need to take some medicine and you're obviously too stubborn to do it yourself." He tries to pop the pill in your mouth again but you swat it away. "Just fucking hold still!"

"No!" You scream at him. "I don't want your help, just let me rot!"

"I can't do that." He states firmly and you want to punch him in the face. You hate that he's been going without the helmet. He's too handsome, it's difficult to look at him sometimes, especially when you're supposed to hate him.

"You're kidding, right? You can easily ignore me. Don't act like you care about me. You only want me to get better for your own benefit. Fuck you." You have the urge to spit in his face but he's lucky you're suddenly too woozy to do so. You clutch your forehead, the ache getting worse by the minute, "fuck, this is your fucking fault for bothering me. Just let me sleep."

You lay on your back, trying to alleviate the cramp that's forming in your stomach. Your whole body hurts now too. The only thing you can do for yourself is close your eyes and hope you can sleep it off. But that's kind of hard when Din keeps trying to put a pill in your mouth.

"Will you quit it!" You go to slap his hand away but he snatches your wrist before you can.

"Take the fucking pill." He's very demanding in his tone.

Despite how obviously exhausted you are, you fight back with full force, "I don't want your stupid fucking pill. I don't want your help. I don't want you! Just stop bothering me!"

You should've expected him not to listen, but you would've never expected what would happen next.

Before you can even react, Din has his lips on yours and cold water rushes into your mouth along with the pill. You're forced to swallow it or else you'd choke and you start to sob the moment his lips leave yours. Not because he made you take the medicine, but because he kissed you.

He hasn't kissed you since that night and you haven't wanted him to. You didn't want to remember what his lips felt like pressed up against yours.

Now, your body aches even more.

"How dare you do that to me!" You say as tears run down your eyes. "You're the absolute worst. I hate you so fucking much."

"I know." That's how he always replies. But he never says, "I'm sorry."

That's a first.

When you look up at Din, you want to believe the look of remorse on his face is real but you can't trust him. It's just another trick. It isn't real.

None of it is real…

That's why you tell him, "if you're really sorry, then kiss me again."

You can't read the expression on his face. Probably because your mind is so hazy from the fever. But, even through that fuzziness, you feel him lean down and kiss you.

You choke back a sob as your hands go up to bury themselves into his hair, pulling him in closer, kissing him back. You shouldn't be doing this. You shouldn't have told him to do this.

However you'll justify it by saying he didn't have to listen to you. He chose to do it, that's not in your control, so might as well enjoy it while you can.

Din settles on top of you, his arms hooking under you to hug you as you both share a kiss that's all too loving and filled with such longing. You yearn for him. That's what this feeling is.

Does he yearn for you? Is that why when your lips part from his, he says, "tell me what else you want me to do to prove that I'm sorry."

No. No. Don't do anything. Don't say anything. Don't respond. There's nothing you want from him. Nothing.

Except, that's not true.

You want everything.

But you can't have it. You can't have him.

Even if that's what you want more than anything right now.

You reach up, touching his face. Din hasn't shaved. You like that he doesn't. The scuffiness of his stubble suits him.

As you trace your finger along his jaw, he closes his eyes, focusing on the feeling. You don't touch him anymore, unless you're trying to hit him or tear at his flesh to steady yourself from a rough fucking. There's a reason you don't. It's because when you do, he doesn't feel like a monster. He feels human and that makes it all the more difficult not to fall in love with him.

You figure out what you want from him before this tender moment drags on too long. "Will you answer one question for me and then let me sleep?"

"Okay." He agrees but then adds, "I can't guarantee it'll be the truth though."

"I wouldn't trust you either way." You say back.

"What's your question then?" He prompts for you to continue.

After taking a deep breath, you gently caress his face as you ask him, "if we could turn back time and meet again under different circumstances, do you think we could've been happy together?"

Your eyes meet his soft brown ones the moment he answers, "yes."

"Tragic how we can't always get what we want." You say with a sad smile, repeating a line you had told him once before. Then, you close off that conversation. "Good night, Din."

"Good night, my pretty little thief." He leans in after he says that, kissing your forehead.

Then, Din lays down with his arms open and you fit perfectly in the space he has left for you. You bury your face in his chest as you always do, breathing in the smell of him. Then, like clockwork, you cry yourself to sleep, wondering if his answer was real or not…

Sadly, the pill he gave you doesn't do anything for your illness. You wake up in a hot flash, your fever still going strong.

Is this how you die? Burning up from the inside out?

That's one way to go. A bit ironic, actually.

"Your fever won't break." Din's voice catches you by surprise.

He's sitting up on the bed with a bowl in his lap and a towel in his hand. Has he been…

You touch your forehead and it's wet so you can only assume he has been wiping your sweat off for you. Why would he do that? It seems like unnecessary work for a man who hates you.

"I can do it." You offer to take over but he shakes his head.

"You're sick. You have to let your Master take care of you." As if you needed a reminder of the last time he took care of you and you fell for his stupid act of kindness.

"I don't need you to take care of me." You glare at him.

How many times do you have to tell him that you don't want his help?

"Yes, you do." He's stern and you roll your eyes at him. "Why are you being such a brat right now?"

You laugh at his question. "Do you have a problem with my behavior? If so, then punish me. If not, fuck off."

"If that's how you want to play, then let's play." He sets the bowl and towel aside.

Then, Din grabs you and drags you over towards him until you're sitting up, straddling his lap. What is he going to do? Make you ride him? You wouldn't be surprised.

Though, what he actually does surprises you. He wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you up against his chest. He waits a moment, staring at your shocked reaction, then he leans in and starts to kiss your neck.

You're confused at his soft kisses trailing across your collarbone. "What are you doing?"

He doesn't answer you.

Instead, he grabs the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you, exposing your upper body to him. You watch as he continues peppering kisses on your hot skin with his cold lips. You hate that it feels nice. You want him to stop but your body is leaning into him, wanting more.

Now you see why he's doing this. It's a different kind of torture. Especially when he starts saying things like, "it's going to be okay. I'll cool you off and then you'll rest up and feel better soon. I won't let anything steal you away from me, not even a fever."

"Stop." You've never begged for anything since this whole thing started but you can't handle this. "Don't say shit like that. Not right now, please."

"Why?" He asks, staring up at your tear-filled eyes.

"Because I might start believing you." You lift your hands up to your face, muffling your cries into your palms. "I can't do this. I can't. Not when I'm feeling this weak and vulnerable and–"

Din moves your hands away and takes over, wiping your tears for you. You hate that you let him but you can't help it. Then, he leans in, kissing your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead, your temples, your jaw, every part of your face except your lips.

He saves that for the end, so that you can crave his lips on yours when he commands, "just tell me you love me and all of this ends."

"No." You refuse without hesitation. "I don't love you. Stop trying to trick me. You're a terrible man for doing this to me. I hate you."

"I know." He rests his forehead against yours, the gesture so intimate that you can't stop sobbing from how it feels to be close to him like this. "I know you hate me, but it doesn't mean you can't love me too."

What does that mean? You can't hate him and love him. That doesn't make sense. How would that even be possible?

"Do you love me?" You turn the question back on him.

"No." He breathes out that single word against your lips just like you had, without hesitation.

"Then you have no idea what you're talking about." You bite back with your words. "Hypocrite."

"Why do you do that?" You don't know if it's the fever or if his question is just odd in general.

"Do what?"

"Fight me." He explains. "You always fight me. Why?"

"What slave would submit to their Master? There are no happy prisoners." You can't imagine choosing to be locked in a cage and smiling about it. "All I can do is fight."

"But why now?" He sounds genuinely confused. "Why fight when you're sick and need help?"

"Because the last time I didn't fight and let you help, I got hurt anyway." You lean back, pulling away from his face. "It's better to be sick than to believe in you. I learned that the hard way and now I'm suffering the consequences."

"And what are the consequences?" He acts as if he doesn't know.

So, you'll just have to show him. You cup his face in your hands and you tell him, "these are the consequences."

Then, you kiss him like you've wanted to. Your desire for him is what you have to suffer through for trusting him. His hands go to caress your back, feeling all of those scars that have set in from that week of imprisonment you elect not to think about.

You don't know how long you kiss him for. You don't even pay any mind that he kisses you back. You can't think straight with this fever heating up every inch of your body.

When do his lips leave yours? When does he lay you back onto the bed and get on top of you? When does he start to trail kisses along your skin that are so gentle and comforting that you can't help wanting more?

"Take a break." Din instructs. "Don't think about anything right now, not even me."

That's hard to do when he's pulling your pants off and burying his face between your legs. Your body tenses up when you feel his tongue lick upwards, reminding you of how easily he can make you unravel just like this. And yet, you stop thinking, like he told you to. You close your eyes and sink your hand into his hair and let your mind go blank.

You allow yourself this moment to pretend that the pleasure you're feeling is okay to feel. It's okay to want. It's okay to let him give it to you because you're just so fucking tired of fighting it. So, for this moment, you don't think about the consequences.

You just drown in them, you drown in him.

When his face is close to yours again and his cock is resting deep inside of you, you whisper, "you'll be my downfall."

"And you'll be mine." He whispers back before his lips find yours once again.

You wonder what he means by that.

Will you be his downfall or will you finally be his once you let him become your downfall?

Does it have to be like this? It's unhealthy for you to dream of a universe in which you and Din could be this close without the reminder of what kind of relationship you both truly have. But how can you not imagine it when you are joined together at the hips and he's kissing you like he feels something more for you than pure hatred?

No matter how hot your bodies feel pressed up against one another, the feelings between you two will be as cold as ice. Maybe that's why you both cling onto physical intimacy. It's the only time you can feel warmth in this rather dark and desolate situation.

"Please don't stop." You plead when he moves his lips away. "Not until I can't think straight anymore."

"I told you not to think at all." He says back.

"When have I ever listened to you?" You reply with a smile.

Din shakes his head at you but then he smiles too. It's light, just like yours. You wonder if it's hiding the same kind of pain yours is. This quiet need for one another.

"You should start listening to me." He leans back down, his lips brushing against yours. "It'll be easier if you do."

"Who said I wanted things to be easy? I wouldn't be talking back if I did." You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath, letting yourself be consumed by him. "Now, make me forget this ever happened. Or, better yet, make it so this is all I want to remember."

With that, you pull him in so you can keep kissing him as he fucks you nice and slow. You're lightheaded from the fever, which makes every orgasm all the more overwhelming. You moan against his lips, you grind your hips against his, you try every which way to remain as close as possible to him because you know this moment will never happen again.

Not until you have another excuse like a fever to act on your desires. You have to make it count and then you'll blame it all on the sickness, even when you know you're doing this because you want him while you have a reason to have him.

The exhaustion takes over eventually and you fall into a deep sleep. The kind you're all too familiar with now, the sleep that's induced by countless orgasms that melt your body into the bed.

You never want to wake up…not when you know what's waiting for you when you do.

The fever finally breaks. You sleep off the rest of your illness and when you finally do get up out of bed, you see the Mandalorian getting dressed in his armor.

Is he going somewhere? You assume so because he slips on the helmet before looking over at you.

It's been so long since you've heard his modulated voice that it startles you when he speaks up, "you need to go back in bed."

"I'm fine now. I want to get dressed." You don't like being naked for too long so you stand up to go get new clothes.

However, you don't make it more than a step before your legs give out. You brace yourself to fall flat on your ass but Din catches you, scolding you as he stuffs you back into bed, "you're so fucking stupid sometimes."

"Quit talking about yourself like that." You smirk at your comeback.

He grabs a hold of your throat rather aggressively in response. "Shut up and stay put."

"Make me, asshole." You challenge him and he squeezes tighter.

"Don't fucking test me, I will tie you down again." He threatens and then shoves you into the bed by the throat. "You're going to listen to your Master and stop being a stubborn brat."

You glare at him. As much as you want to argue, you don't want to be tied down if he's going to be leaving for an undetermined amount of time. That doesn't sound very pleasant so you admit defeat just this time, demanding through a strained voice, "fine, but I want some clothes."

Din lets go of his grip on you then. You gasp for air as he goes to get you what you asked for plus a jug of water. He hands you the clothes and goes, "you aren't getting up unless you absolutely need to. You better finish all this water by the time I'm back in a few hours."

"Where are you going?" The curiosity slips out before you can stop it.

"Going on a supply run before the storm gets worse again." You're surprised he actually answered you and it's an honest answer.

The rain has stopped momentarily. Though, it makes you wonder, "why are we staying here if we'll just get stormed in? Don't you still have that place on Tatooine?"

"Do you not like it here?" Why would he ask you that?

"Am I allowed an opinion?" You ask back.

"Stop asking questions and answer me." His tone is stricter with the helmet on.

"It's better than Tatooine, I suppose." If you had to compare the two, you'd definitely pick here but there is one problem, "it's colder here though."

"That's why you should stay under the covers until I'm back." He gestures for you to start putting on your clothes so you can tuck yourself back into bed. "Don't make yourself sick again."

"It's not my fault I got sick in the first place." You feel much better now that you're dressed but the bed is freezing without Din to keep it warm. "Like I said, it's colder here. I'm not used to it…"

You bundle up with the blanket, letting out a light sigh. Hopefully you can go back to sleep before the loneliness seeps in. You're constantly thinking about the last time he left you alone and it makes you wary that he's leaving again. You can't tell him not to go because you have no reason to want him to stay. You'll just have to deal with his absence on your own.

"Move." Din's voice catches you off guard, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You thought he was going to head out, but he's nudging you to scoot over in the bed. You listen mainly because you're so puzzled by his actions. He gets back in bed and quickly pulls you into his arms. It's suddenly so much warmer now and you can't help leaning into him, even though you know you shouldn't.

"I'll leave when you fall back asleep so hurry up." His voice is demanding but his hands are gently rubbing your back. The duality is…something you'll never get used to.

But, you won't complain. It's much more comfortable like this. Enough for you to say, "thank you."

You look up and his helmet is tilted down so you know he's staring back at you as he tells you, "you finally stopped being stubborn."

"Break." You smile and he groans in response, obviously annoyed at your joke.

"Rest up, thief." He pulls you in just a bit closer when he says that, wanting you to get more comfortable.

"Come back soon." The words spill out mindlessly from your lips. "Don't leave me alone for too long this time."

"I'll be right back, I promise." He sounds like he's telling the truth so you nod, closing your eyes.

You feel him pat your head, the small gesture lulling you into a gentle slumber. He leaves once you're sound asleep, though you notice the dip in temperature. It doesn't wake you from your sleep but you know you'll be shivering until he's back.

You wake up maybe an hour or two later and spend the rest of the day trying to stay warm in bed. As much as you'd like to defy him, you ended up drinking all of the water he left for you and only got up to pee and use the refresher. It was fucking hard to walk and stand much. Your body is still sore from being sick, among other things.

Does he want to keep you sore? That would make sense. The weaker you are, the easier it is to control you. But then again, why not let you stay sick? You suppose he needs to make sure you don't accidentally die of natural causes.

Din wants to kill you himself. He would've killed you yesterday if you had told him you loved him. You don't, but if you had said so, he would've put you out of your feverish misery. That's the only reason why he would ask such a thing at that moment.

Now that you have some time alone to think, you think of the kisses he gave you. His lips were so cold against your burning hot skin. Every kiss was methodically placed and you can still feel them. It's like he has left marks on your body, but ones you cannot see.

That's the point. Those kisses were starkly different than how he normally acts. There was no roughness or aggression. He's trying to win you over by giving you these small drops of affection in an ocean of blinding hate.

You won't fall for it this time, even if it feels believable. You brush your fingertips against your lips, which are sensitive to the touch. It happened, you know it did, but it wasn't real.

You have to be able to differentiate between the real Din and this other one that he puts on to play mind games with you.

The real Din is straightforward with his hatred for you. He's the one who grabs you by the neck and hurls insults at you as he makes you come over and over again. That's the real him.

The one that he uses to mess with you is this kinder, warmer, caring Din. He's the one who kisses you and holds you while you cry until you fall asleep. They're like polar opposites who wear the same face and that's what makes it difficult for you to parse through.

Sometimes, there are pockets where you don't know which is which. Was it the real Din earlier who came back to bed despite being fully dressed in his armor because he wanted to make sure you were warm enough to sleep? It felt like it but you can't be sure.

That's the part that bothers you the most. You hate that you can't be sure of anything he does. You can never trust him again, not after he put this collar around your neck. This is a clear sign that he never trusted you in the first place, not even when he saw that you stayed despite having a broken collar before.

Had he thought you were trying to trick him? You aren't a schemer like he is. You wouldn't do that to him. You should learn to, but that's not who you are. You're a thief. Your expertise is in stealing things, not manipulating people.

You sigh, laying back and staring up at the ceiling of the cave, needing a break from your thoughts. The string lights glow above you and you like the way they twinkle. You notice that a few of them need to be replaced. You could reach them if you stood up on the bed, you just need to find where he keeps the replacements.

Are you a bit stir crazy, being all alone in the cave? Terribly so.

Against your best judgment, you shuffle out of bed and go to where Din keeps his storage chests. You chuckle when you see that he has added locks to them. As if a lock could dissuade a thief like you. With some strap metal that's laying around, you makeshift a lockpick and in seconds, you have one of them opened.

You sift through the contents, trying to find the replacement bulbs. There's a lot of random stuff in here. You assume they're things for the N-1 or his armor because they look like spare parts for something. This doesn't seem like the right chest so you lock it and move onto the next one.

The next chest only has clothes in it. These clothes are lighter which is probably why they're stored away. No reason to wear clothing that will only make you more chilly. You lock that one back up and move onto another one.

This one has–

You barely have a chance to look at the weapons in the chest before you're dragged by the hair to your feet. In a matter of moments, you're slammed up against the wall of the cave, a familiar gloved hand gripping your throat.

The Mandalorian is choking you so hard that it feels like the collar around your neck is getting crushed beneath his hand. You're struggling against him, clawing at his arm as tears stream down your face. Your body desperately gasps for air but nothing is entering with your attempts to inhale.

"I told you to stay in bed and this is what I find you doing instead?" He is so fucking pissed that his voice vibrates through the modulator with such fury, "you're in for it this time, thief."

You try to spit out words but they can't leave your lips with how tightly he's strangling you. He can tell you're trying to talk and that just sets him off more.

"Do you think you're going to reason your way out of this?" He laughs at you mockingly before the anger sets back in. "There's no good reason for you to be sniffing through shit that isn't yours. Especially not my weapons chest."

Your vision is already filling up with stars and you know you're going to black out soon. You just wanted to find the lightbulbs…not that he would believe you but you try to explain anyway without words. You point up at one of the dead bulbs above the two of you and the Mandalorian actually looks up. You gesture with all the energy left in your body at it so that he knows exactly what you're referring to.

"The lights?" He tilts his head back down to look at you and you nod furiously, tugging at his arm, hoping he'll give you some air. He doesn't budge because he says, "do you really think I'm stupid enough to believe you picked the locks of my storage chests just to search for the replacement bulbs?"

Fuck! Of course he doesn't believe you! Why would he? You just had to unlock the weapons chest right when he got back.

How were you supposed to know he'd keep a chest filled with weapons under such a flimsy lock?

"You know what, if you want to fuck with my things, let's fuck with my things." He quickly tosses you so hard against the floor that any air left in your lungs gets knocked out before you have to heave to refill them.

Then, you watch as he pulls out a marksman rifle from the chest. What is he–

A harrowing scream launches uncontrollably from the pit of your stomach as he shoots at your feet, barely missing your ankle. You stumble backwards, scrapping your hands against the dirt floors to try to put space between you and him before he can charge another shot. You've seen these weapons before. They need to be loaded one bullet at a time but a single shot can pierce through armor and bone.

You'd surely die if you get hit.

"I would run if I were you." He says rather menacingly, his finger pointing behind you.

You know there's another cavern nearby, but you'd have to run through the forest in the pouring rain to get to it. Is that what he wants you to do?

Is he going to fucking chase you with a rifle right now?

Din answers your internal thoughts by shooting another bullet right next to your hip, which pulls another scream out of you. "If you don't get up in the next five seconds and start running for your fucking life, I won't miss my next shot."

That's all it takes for the adrenaline to rush through your body and you jump to your feet immediately and start hauling ass out of the cave. Another shot narrowly misses you the moment you exit the cave, colliding against the entrance wall. You hear the stone crumble but you don't dare look back.

You sprint through the rain, dodging his bullets by weaving in a zigzag formation. This isn't the first time Din has shot at you during a chase so you're well aware of what you have to do. Though, the previous times have all been because you stole something of his that he really would prefer to have back. This is the first time he's shooting you for the hell of it and you're running from him because he's ready to kill you.

You run into the forest, zipping through the trees, trying not to scream too loudly when you hear the bark beside you break off from a bullet's impact. You're soaking wet from the rain and the forest floor is muddy and disgusting against your bare feet but you suffer through it.

The cavern's entrance is in your sights so you book it in that direction, ducking as a blast almost takes out your head. Din shouts loud enough for you to hear through the rain, "you better dodge better than that, my pretty little thief! I would very much rather bring you back hot but cold is always an option!"

He sounds way too happy at the prospect of dropping you dead with a single shot and you're scared out of your fucking mind.

Thankfully, you reach the cavern and it splits off into five different tunnels. You know he has the bloodhound setting on so it doesn't matter which you choose, he'll follow your footsteps and find you regardless. You opt for the one furthest to the left because it's a more windy tunnel so you can avoid his shots easier.

You're smart with your choice because you round a corner the moment he shoots and the bullet would've hit you if you didn't have a turn to make. Is this really how he's going to kill you? A part of you thinks this is just a punishment and he's not actually chasing you down to murder you but you aren't taking chances.

The tunnel leads out into an underground river system and you have to make a choice. Do you jump into it and let the rapids take you away, hoping for the best, or do you keep pushing forward and pray you don't meet a dead-end?

You glance towards the end of the river and you notice a small dip. Waterfall. You have to take the chance that it will shoot you out somewhere else. You can't get stuck in this cavern. You need to make it back outside somehow.

So, before the Mandalorian can send another bullet in your direction, you dive into the river. He shouts something at you but you can't hear it over the rapids as they force you downstream. That's when you see him activate his jetpack so he can start chasing you that way. You take in a deep breath and duck your head beneath the water, hoping he loses track of you.

You wish you hadn't done that…because you couldn't see how close the waterfall was. You're ill prepared for the sudden drop, your body instinctively wanting to scream which results in you swallowing a bit too much water. You managed to cough it all out before you hit the pool at the bottom. The pool connects to another set of rapids so you're sent right into another quick downwards stream, only this time, you're back outside and the rain is adding to your struggles.

You need to get the fuck out of this river.

A fallen tree has a branch sticking close enough to you that you're able to grab a hold of it the moment you hit it. It knocks the air out of your chest with the sudden impact but you're used to that feeling by now and pull yourself up onto the fallen trunk.

Carefully, you walk along it until your feet are back on the forest floor and you take a moment to fucking breathe. You look around and you can't make out anything that looks like a Mandalorian soaring through the sky. But, again, you can't take any chances, so you catch your breath and use that time to look for somewhere to wait out the rain. You see that there's an abandoned structure made of stone. That seems like a doable place to rest.

Using the rest of your energy, you lug yourself over there. It's not technically ruins but it looks like someone had built this place to live in but then left it to the elements. There's moss and other weeds growing between the stone slabs. You would admire more but you need to get dry.

So, you step inside through the opening and

you see a spiraling metal staircase leading downwards. That's interesting. You quickly follow it downwards and to your surprise, it is indeed a half-built home of sorts. There's some trinkets here and there but you ignore those and immediately go for what you're guessing has to be a fireplace because you need to heat up and bring some light into this place before you can loot it.

Maybe luck is on your side, because there's actually dry wood already in it. You just need to light it. You scan the area for some kind of lighting tool and you see the flint and steel. That's definitely old school but it'll have to do. After a good few minutes of nonstop struggling, you manage to get a spark on the wood and the fire slowly begins to burn. You let out a sigh of relief, dropping to the floor beside it, bathing in the warmth.

Now all you need to do is get out of these clothes. You'll undoubtedly get sick again if you stay in them so you strip and try to ring out as much water as you can at a little drainage hole before setting your clothes to dry near the stove.

As you fight off the shivers, you poke around for something to wear or at least some fabric to wipe the water off your body with. You rummage for a bit before finding a blanket and a very big tunic. That'll work. You throw on the tunic and then bring the blanket to the fireplace, laying it down neatly. Then, you collapse onto it, exhaustion consuming your whole body.

You reach up and touch your neck, feeling the bruise that is already forming. You try to speak a little but every word comes out strained. He didn't hold back at all this time with his grip. He could've killed you.

Din could've killed you many times tonight. You don't know if it was luck or just him purposefully missing, but you can't believe you made it out of there without taking a bullet. The adrenaline is slowly fading and a full body ache is creeping in.

You know he's going to find you soon. There's a tracker in the collar, so it's inevitable. What are you going to tell him when he's here? Do you attempt to explain yourself? Do you beg for your life? Do you promise to be a good girl so he doesn't fucking shoot you?

You haven't felt fear like that since he pulled out the DarkSaber in front of you for the first time. There's something in the way you can't see his face beneath the helmet. Is he smirking when he's got you all scared? You assume so. He loves it when you're frightened.

You wonder what about it makes him feel good. He must hate you so much that the sight of you cowering in fear brings him joy. That's probably it.

You curl up into a ball, trying to calm your rapid heartbeat, taking in deep breaths. You will need to regain some strength before Din finds you.

Too bad things never work out the way you want them to.

Right when you think you've fully calmed down, the sound of his footsteps above you sends you straight back into a panic.

You don't know what to do. Do you try to hide? Do you run again? Do you plead for forgiveness?

You don't have time to think because a bullet blasts through the wall, shaking the room along with it. You scream involuntarily in response, scared by the sudden burst of noise, and put your hands up in surrender, crying out, "please don't kill me. I'll be good for you, Master. I won't do anything like that again, I promise."

"Now, why would I ever trust a thief?" Din's footsteps get louder and louder as he walks down the metal steps one by one, causing your heart to pound.

"Please, I promise, I wasn't going to take anything from you, I just–I just wanted to find the lightbulbs." You sob, your throat hurting so much but you have to fight through the pain.

"Move your fucking hands away from your face." He doesn't sound like he believes you.

You shakily put your hands down, looking up at the barrel of his rifle pointing straight at you. He pushes the gun forward and you immediately crawl backwards until you're backed up against the wall beside the fireplace, breathing in the smell of metal from the tip of the rifle only inches away from your face.

"Do you know what they named this gun?" The Mandalorian shows you the gold bullet before he loads it in with a click, pulling the lever to secure it in place, popping out the old shell in the process. You watch as the casing hits the ground and the only other sound that echoes through the room is him saying, "it's called the Skullpiercer. Do you want to find out why they call it that?"

Suddenly, you feel the metal press up against your forehead and you whimper, looking away from him. He doesn't like that at all because he presses harder against your skin until your eyes shift back to him.

"Look up at me and show me how fucking terrified you are, thief." You're forced to hold your head up against the gun so you can do as he says. He tells you in that menacing tone of his, "now you know what happens when you try to steal from your Master."

"I won't do it again." You swear truthfully because you wouldn't want to be chased like that ever again. "Please, what can I do to make you believe me? I'll do anything, Master. Just don't kill me like this."

"Aww, it's so cute when you want to be a good girl." He's all too demeaning right now. "If only you just listened to your Master in the first place, then none of this would've happened. All you had to do was stay in bed. This is all your fault."

"It is." You admit with such regret in your voice. "I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I should've stayed in bed. I should've listened to you. Please give me a chance to be better. I want to be better for you. I'll do anything you ask."

"Then, tell me the truth." He demands, the gun never lifting from your head. "Tell me how you really feel about me."

Oh, he wants you to tell him that you–

"I can't." You answer a bit too fast, prepared to meet your end because of it.

"Why not?" He asks, his finger on the trigger, ready to blow your brains out in a second.

"Because I'm dead either way." You say as tears stream down your face. "It won't matter."

"Say it." Din presses you for the answer but you simply shake your head.

"Just kill me already." You close your eyes, accepting your death. You would rather end it here than to ever breathe out your true feelings for him.

"Why won't you say it?" It's obvious he's gritting his teeth, the rage in his tone overflowing. "Why won't you fucking admit it!"

"Because the moment I do, it'll become real." You squeeze your eyes shut tighter to stop the tears from dripping out but they sneak out anyways.

"Why can't it be real?" He asks a very good question.

It can't be real because if it was real, you'd want him to be real. You'd want that Din that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside to be real. But he isn't real so your love can't be real. The real Din is holding a rifle to your head, ready to pierce your skull just like the gun's name.

You can't be in love with this Din. The idea of it scares you more than death itself. How could you be in love with the man who is holding you by the throat, keeping you captive? The man who wants you dead? The man who hates you so much, he would taunt you with the prospect of love for the sake of breaking you down?

You can't love him, even if you want to.

You have to say something in response so you find the only words you can say, "because I'll never stop hating you for doing this to me."

You hate him for fucking up your feelings. You won't ever be normal again, all thanks to him. He has stained your soul, messed up your entire love map, tainted you in every which way possible, flooded your mind with thoughts of him.

You'll never get over him, which is why you can't allow yourself to love him. He'll own you entirely if you do.

You keep your eyes closed, waiting for him to say something or to pull the trigger.

Din ends up doing the latter. In the silence of the room, he presses down on the trigger and a bullet flies out, the sound ricocheting through the air.

That's how it all should've ended for you.

But, it didn't.

Instead, he had lifted the rifle up into the air, firing the bullet into the ceiling, breaking the stone into pieces and letting the rain flood in. You hear chunks of rock hit the ground where you expected your blood to be.

You open your eyes then, puzzled.

Why didn't he kill you? You defied him yet again. You should be dead.

You stare in shock as the Mandalorian flicks his wrist and the chain that connects your collar appears. He tugs you towards him and picks you up onto his arms, not saying a single word. Then, he turns on his jetpack and flies straight up through the stone ceiling, busting it open completely on impact. You clutch onto him as he flies you both back to the cave. You've never been carried like that before, at least not while being flown around.

The rain has soaked your borrowed tunic and your body yet again, but you know that it won't matter. You'll be out of this shirt soon enough.

Din sets you down onto your feet and the link from your collar to his cuff disappears. He pulls out a knife from his boot and proceeds to slice down the middle of your shirt, just like he has done before, only this time he doesn't prick you with it. He merely tears the shirt to shreds and you stand completely still, letting him do it.

Then, he goes, "never wear another man's clothing ever again."

Before you can respond, Din has you by the neck again, cutting off the air to your lungs.

"Don't speak unless your Master has asked you to. Understood?" He releases his hold, waiting for you to respond.

"Yes, Master." You gasp for air after you manage to say those words.

"Now be a good girl and help me undress. It's your fault I'm soaked from the rain in the first place." He taps on the straps that hold his armor in place so you carefully remove them, setting them down on the floor gently.

When those are done, you go to lift his helmet off and he leans down so you can grab a hold of it. Your eyes meet his brown ones when you pull the helmet off of him and before you can even take in the expression on his face, his lips crash against yours, kissing you all of a sudden. You drop the helmet due to the collision but he doesn't seem to care. He just keeps kissing you.

Though, they are different from the ones yesterday. These kisses are hot and passionate, almost dizzying. He deepens them immediately, his tongue wrapping around yours. He really likes stealing your breath away.

When he finally gives you a second to breathe, Din breathes out against your lips, "tell me you love kissing me."

You don't know why you listen, but you tell him, "I love kissing you."

"Good girl." He says as he pulls his shirt off, tossing it aside. "Now, keep doing what I say and I'll forget all about what you did today."

You nod then add, "yes, Master."

Din strips off everything below his waist after that and then drags you right into the refresher, blasting the both of you with hot water. He grabs a hold of your face again and his lips are on yours all too quickly. The water showers over the both of you as his hands roam your body while his mouth owns yours. You can't hold in a moan when you feel his rough fingers between your legs.

He pulls away to demand, "tell me you love it when I touch you."

"I love it when you touch me." You arch your back as he dips two fingers inside of you, palming your clit with every thrust.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" There's such a force in his voice that's both intimidating and alluring at the same time.

"So good." You're a bit too truthful. It's just the combination of the steam in the shower and the lightheadedness from all the kissing that's lowering your inhibitions. You really aren't minding your words right now.

"Tell your Master what you want." He starts to curl his fingers, urging you to confess your desires.

"Please make me come." You want to keep feeling good. You're tired of being afraid. You just want to forget all about it and sink into him.

Din kisses you once again and he finds that pace with his fingers that drives you right over the edge. You ride his fingers as your orgasm shoots through you, sending tingles all over your body.

"Do you want more?" He asks you when your lips part from his. "Tell me you do."

"I do." You comply. "I want more."

"More of what? Use your words." He's more demanding than before.

"More of you, Master." You wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers lacing into his hair, needing to touch him. "All of you."

"Good girl. That's what I want to hear." He pulls his hand away from you then, which draws a whine from your lips. "Let's get clean first and then I'll give you more, okay?"

"Okay." You nod in agreement.

You both share sloppy kisses as you wash each other, the bar of soap slipping between your hands and his. There's not a moment where you two aren't close to each other and it's making your mind swirl. You hate that you want to be close to him. You blame it on the fact that his body feels so nice and warm when he presses up against you. You were freezing before so the contrast is addictive now that you're hot again.

In the midst of these steamy kisses, Din whispers against your lips, "tell me you love me."

That's when you realize what he's trying to do. He wants you to give in, but you can't. You already told him you can't.

"No." You pull away, shaking your head. "Don't do this right now."

"Are you really going to defy me?" The anger is seeping back out in his voice. "I told you to do as I say."

"I can't do that. Anything but that." You won't be able to escape if you say it.

"So, you really are a liar then." He pairs his words with a spit in the face, hitting you right in the cheek. The shower washes it away immediately but the action still stiffens you up immensely. "You disappoint me."

"I'm sorry." You don't know what else there is to say.

He laughs at you and you look up at the sadistic expression on his face as he says, "you're sorry? Oh, if only that was all it took to gain my forgiveness. All you had to do was listen to me but you'd rather keep lying to yourself. Don't worry, I'll fuck the truth out of you one way or another."

The refresher shuts off right after Din says that. You both stand there, the water dripping down your bodies, just staring at each other. Your heart is leaping out of your chest because you know something is about to happen. You just can't guess what, not when it's him. He always has something up his sleeve.

"Dry off and go lay in bed under the covers." He commands and you hesitate, which prompts, "I'm not asking. Go, now."

You hurriedly exit the refresher and grab a towel from the stack nearby, getting as much water off your body and your hair as you can before shuffling into bed beneath the covers. You contemplate watching Din dry off but you turn away instead. The more you look at him, the harder this will be. He's just…too real. You wish when he acted so harsh, he'd keep the armor on so he felt less human.

Especially now, when he has a knife pressed to your neck.

Your eyes widen as you meet his gaze. He smiles at you, all giddy, like this isn't fucking psychotic enough as it is. You're both naked and he's on top of you, towering over you, holding your life in his hands. The knife is so close to your skin that you are afraid to breathe. You hold your breath, trying not to cry anymore but you're scared.

You're genuinely fucking afraid he's going to slice your neck open and watch you bleed with that cheeky grin plastered on his face.

"There they are. The waterworks." His other hand goes to wipe the tears that are starting to fall despite your best efforts. "I love it when you cry."

"Why are you doing this?" You shouldn't ask but you need to reason through it to make it make sense.

"Why not?" He smirks, the dull side of the blade pushing into your neck just a bit now, choking you slightly. "Maybe I enjoy watching you squirm."

"You're cruel." You breathe out, closing your eyes as you feel the sharp tip of the blade prick you a little.

"Am I?" He feigns ignorance.

"I hate you." The air stings the now open cut on your neck. It's tiny, but he nicked you enough to bleed, so you can feel it.

"No, you don't." Din holds firm with his beliefs. "You love me but you're just too stubborn to admit it."

"I do not love you." You open your eyes to glare at him. "How could I love a man as horrible as you?"

"Because you love how horrible I am to you."

The knife begins to trail along your skin like it had before, the dull side tracing along different curves of your body. Your neck, your shoulders, your arms, your breasts, your stomach and your hips. You chew on your lip as you feel the cold metal against your inner thighs, way too close for comfort.

"Stop, please." You beg because there's nothing else you can do.

"Tell me you love me and I'll stop." The knife pushes against your inner thigh, forcing you to open your legs wider for him. "That's all it takes. You just have to admit it."

"What are you going to do to me if I don't?" You want to mentally prepare yourself.

But, he doesn't give you the chance.

Din just says "this" before ramming every inch of his cock inside you. You didn't even realize he was hard, or that you were wet enough to take him so suddenly. The motion rips a moan from your lungs and it's quickly quieted by the feeling of the knife against your throat once again. What is he…

"You know, the human body loves a good thrill, like the fear of dying." His words distract you from his other hand sliding down to rest above your clit. "It makes for a better orgasm."

You can't struggle. If you do, the knife will cut into your neck because he has the sharp side facing your skin this time. You can't do anything about the way his fingers are rubbing circles around your clit, making you clench around his cock buried deep inside of you.

All you can do is try to barter with him, "please don't do this. I'll do anything, just stop, please."

"Tell me you love me." Din repeats what he has been demanding this whole time.

"Anything but that. You can have anything but that." Your body tenses up as he slides his cock out of you until only the tip is inside before thrusting the entire length back in one go. Shivers run through you as you feel the knife's presence all too clearly during that moment.

"You would truly rather be fucked with a knife at your throat than admit that you love me?" He shakes his head in disapproval.

"I can't admit something that isn't true." You tell him. "I can say it but I won't mean it."

"That's a lie."

He starts to pull out of you again and you brace yourself for another fast thrust but he doesn't do what you expect. He never does. He sinks his cock back inside of you slowly this time, but his fingers on your clit get rougher and you bite back a whimper.

"Why do you like lying so much?" He grazes your neck lightly with the blade, reminding you that it's there.

"Why do you think I wouldn't be lying if I said that to you?" You're playing his game right back at him. "I could tell you, but why would you believe me? I'm trying to be honest here by refusing."

"No." He's firm with his words. "You wouldn't be lying."

"You'd never know." You say back.

"You just won't admit it, will you?"

"You wouldn't trust me either way." Your hands bundle up the sheets as the fury coursing through him causes him to up his pace, pounding into you rougher now.

Your eyes roll back as he keep hitting that one spot that brings tears back to your eyes. He berates you, "look at you, about to come your fucking brains out. You love having a knife to your throat, don't you? You love the fear I bring out in you."

"No." You cry out, the intensity of everything slowly tearing you apart. "I don't. Stop, please."

"You're such a liar. Can't you feel the way you're milking my cock? Watch." He lifts the knife to press down on your chin, forcing you to look at the way your body is clinging onto him as he pulls out of you. You let out a gasp the moment he slams back into you, having witnessed the entire motion. Your toes curl at the feeling and he smiles at your reaction. "Thankfully, your body doesn't lie."

The knife goes back to your throat, only this time, he lays it flat on top of your collar. Then, he starts to fuck you fast and the way your body shakes in response causes the knife to slide back and forth, the sound of the metal scraping together fills your ears. You bite your lip as the knife brushes along your skin with every thrust, not enough to break through the flesh but enough for you to feel the impact.

All the while, you're edging yourself like crazy. You can't come. You'll fucking explode if you do. The fear of getting your neck sliced open, the fear of how much the thrill is forming a puddle between your legs, the fear of bursting completely and having an orgasm in this kind of scenario is corrupting you.

"You won't be able to hold it in much longer, my pretty little thief." He angles his cock just a bit more to really hit every spot inside of you, knowing that'll send you over the top no matter how hard you try to resist. "I know your body. I know how tight you feel wrapped around my cock when you're about to come."

"I won't." You say through gritted teeth and blurry eyes. "I'm not going to come."

"You know what to do if you want this to end." Din's giving you a final chance to confess the absolute worst sin there is.

You only have two choices now: admit the one truth you know you can't and tell him you love him or let him force this orgasm out of you that will surely taint every fiber of your being forever.

The choice is made the moment you utter the words, "I'll never stop hating you, Din Djarin, so do your fucking worst."

A flip switches in his face. You can see his expression go from downright baffled to unbelievably mad in the matter of seconds. With a few short huffs of pure rage, he tosses the knife aside before pressing both of his hands over your neck as his cock pounds into you relentlessly. He fucks you into the bed, crushing your throat to pin you down.

You scratch at his arms with your nails, digging into them hard enough for him to bleed, reminding you that he is human under that monstrous look in his eyes. Your actions do absolutely nothing. He doesn't let up. He just keeps choking you through his rough thrusts and you try to keep fighting but your body is convulsing. You're too close, you've edged yourself for too long, you're going to fucking burst.

"Come for your Master, you stupid, stubborn, lying thief." He practically shouts the words at you. "Show me how much I've broken you."

It only takes a few more moments for your body to give in completely to his rough thrusts. The tension that has been building up this entire time releases and you come harder than ever before under the immense pressure of his hands around your throat. Your orgasm is so intense that you're gushing all over his cock uncontrollably and he keeps fucking you through it, forcing the pleasure to repeat itself over and over. He releases your throat from his grip and you moan before you even start to breathe again.

Din leans down enough for you to grab a hold of his back, clawing into it for leverage as he drives you into another orgasm, though you can't really tell if it's a new one or just a continuation of the first. It doesn't matter at a certain point. You're too far gone.

You've lost your mind in the high but you're still conscious enough that when he asks if you love him, you still say no.

"Stop lying!" He shouts as he smacks you in the face and you bite your tongue hard enough to bleed in response.

"I hate you." You stare back at him with fierce eyes, sobering up from the slap. You scream back at him, "I hate you with all of my fucking heart!"

"What heart?" He growls back at you, his face matching your ferocity. "I stole your heart a long time ago."

"Now who's the liar?" Your eyes shift to his lips back to his eyes and he follows your gaze. That's how you know he wants you just as much as you want him. "If anything, I stole yours. That's why you hate me so much. Because I refuse to give you mine in return."

"I'm going to kill you." He makes that vow and you laugh in his fucking face.

"Good." You say with a smile. "Kill me. Tear me apart. Rip me to shreds. Because I will never love you like you love me."

"I don't love you!" He shouts as another slap connects with your cheek and you taste the blood pooling in your mouth.

"And I don't love you!" You spit on him and his hand goes to grip your mouth shut by the cheeks.

"But you love this." Din spits back in your face before shoving it into the pillow, flipping your body over with ease.

Your screams muffle as he slams his cock into you from behind. His hand ruthlessly smacks your ass and you have to bite down on the fabric to stop yourself from whimpering.

"You love being used by your Master. You love being taken roughly just like this. You love being fucked senseless by me." Every sentence he utters is coupled with another slap, sending shivers through you.

It's hard to keep your legs bent but you suffer through it because he's right. No matter how much you lie to yourself and to him, you enjoy the hate sex. It's the only part of your relationship with him that feels real.

It's the only time you get to spend with the real Din…

"How can you not love me when you're coming this hard?" He taunts you like he always does. "Your knees are weak. Your body is molded to mine. You'll never feel this good with anyone else but me."

That might be the one truth in the sea of lies.

Lesson learned: never submit to a madman.

It's not the collar holding you captive anymore. It's been him all along. He holds the tightest grip over you and your pleasure and you'll never recover from this.

The Mandalorian has ruined you.

Just like you've ruined him…

A/N: If you've never listened to the song Hurts So Good by Astrid S, that's the vibe for this chapter. I prefer the slow + reverb version, which you can listen to: here!

I don't know how I'm going to recover from this chapter. Writing it was definitely an adventure. Please let me know if you enjoy the duality and the mixed emotions! I think that's my favorite part of writing this series ~

Who will cave first and admit to their true feelings? Also, do you think there's a chance at a happy ending for these two? I'd love to hear your theories! Can't wait for y'all to see what I've cooked up for the next lesson, hope you enjoyed this one ♡

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#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader

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