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sekhisadventures · 2 years

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The Song of the World

Vol’dun, Two Years Before the Blood War

Vol’dun, a vast desert expanse in the Northwestern corner of the Island nation of Zandalar. Mostly it was cut off from the Zandalari capital of Daza’alor due to the dread swamps of Naz’mir and the mad blood troll cult that dwelled there, but there was little reason for the trolls to come to Vol’dun anyways.

Inhospitable at best, an expanse of sand and rock, occasionally broken by ancient Zandalari ruins or, sometimes, the skeletal remains of some massive beast. Still, some called this desert their home...

See now, a caravan winds its way down from the Torktaga Refuge on the northern coastline. The turtle-like tortolla seek rare growths and fungi that are found in the depths of the desert to craft their potions and inks for their scrolls. In exchange they trade salted fish, jugs of fresh water, medical salves, and other useful things.

Thus why Kiro and his people sought them out. Life in the desert was harsh but with cunning, sharp eyes, and a willingness to work with others it was life. The caravan carts were pulled along by a pair of wooly alpalca, their hides shorn short to help cope with the harsh desert heat, and flanking its sides were riders mounted on hyena, their mounts occasionally giggling and growling excitedly.

The riders however would draw most eyes. Small creatures akin to gnomes or goblins, but covered in glossy fur with long fluffy tails and huge pointed ears, their faces and bodies looking akin to foxes that had somehow learned to walk on their hind legs.

These caravaners were vulpera and their leader was Kiro, a red-furred vulpera with white fur on his muzzle, streaked with gray here and there showing his approaching age. He wasn’t old yet, but he wasn’t a young kit anymore either. He was a shaman, his caravan’s healer as well as it’s leader, but lately he’d been distracted… the elements were whispering to him, but their voices seemed to be out of focus somehow.

As the caravan rode along the rider next to him looked over, “You okay Kiro?” she asked. A female vulpera. Unlike Kiro her fur was as white as the sandy dunes, with black tips to her ears.

Kiro nodded, “Sorry Meerah, just… something feels a bit odd today.” the caravan leader replied. “Its probably nothing.” he replied.

“Hmm… I hope so Kiro. I swear the Faithless are getting worse every day. I heard from the tortolla that another caravan they trade with never showed up…” she muttered in a worried tone.

“That could be a lot of things Meerah. It could be a basilisk ambush, or an outbreak of sandflea fever, or maybe one of their wagons broke a wheel.” he replied dismissively.

From inside the caravan wagon came an annoyed growl, “OR it could be the Faithless Kiro.” it replied.

Kiro rolled his eyes, “Yes yes Nisha, it could be the Faithless… but I don’t think so. They’re going on about their loa all the time, what would they want with us? We’re just some harmless traders. More trouble than we’re worth to them.” he replied. “We just gotta keep our heads down and do our business quietly, we’ll be fine.”

The caravan flaps flew open at this as an annoyed female stuck her head out, the vulpera woman covered in deep scarlet fur, “And what about when we’re NOT fine? Huh? These snakes grow more and more bold every damn day. I say at the next moot we gather up the other caravans and sort them out before they can come after us!” she snapped, her ears folded back and her tail thrashing.

Kiro sighed, “Its not that simple Nisha, there’s a lot more Faithless than there are vulpera. We’d lose, badly. We need to stay out of their way and let the Sethrak sort it out among themselves. Its not our problem.”

“Well sooner or later its going to BE our problem!” she snarled, the two of them beginning to argue as Meerah just rolled her eyes and clicked the reins on her alpalca, guiding them back to the burrow that her people called home.

In the next cart over three younger vulpera sat, their large ears flicking as they picked up the angry voices of the caravan leader and the hotheaded woman.

“Ugh, there they go again…” sighed one of them, flopping back onto the floor of the caravan, “Kiro ‘n Nisha always argue anymore…” he huffs, flicking his tail irritably.

“Yeah, I know Rudo…” said another, sitting on the floor idly tossing a ball back and forth between her paws, “But what can we do about it? We’re just kits, they won’t listen to us. Just let ‘em argue and go play when we get back to the burrows.” she replied. “What do you think Sekhi?” she asked, turning to their companion.

The two were young, barely four summers old, but Sekhi, the third one, was almost thirteen herself. She was supposed to be watching the two, but instead was mostly playing with a flute she’d gotten as a gift for her last namesday. “H-huh? Oh sorry Torra, I wasn’t listenin'…” she replied, blushing.

Rudo and Torra were from the same litter, both of them having pale brown fur, but Sekhi’s hide was a yellowish hue, more akin to the deserts near the edges of Vol’dun herself. While the other two wore just shorts (and a chestwrap for Torra) Sekhi wore a bright red wrap and a long colorful skirt she’d bartered off a goblin merchant that had docked off the coast of Vol’dun some months back, along with a red silken headscarf trimmed with gold.

“Sekhiiiiiii… we was talkin’ about how Kiro ‘n Nisha just fight ‘n growl ‘n stuffs now…” said Rudo, sitting up and frowning at her.

“Oh, right yeah… guess they do…” she looked over in the direction of the caravan, hearing Kiro and Nisha’s raised voices again, sighing. “I dunno, those two are just… bleh… I guess… I mean, I kinda get where Kiro is comin' from. We only gots th' one healer, him, 'n if we did go up against th' Faithless ‘n something happened to him or if too many of us got hurt 'n he couldn’t heal us all… I mean he used to be really strong when he was younger, or at least my ma used to say, but he’s kinda getting on now 'n his powers aren’t as good anymore I think? I dunno, da said something like that…” she began, then went on for several minutes as the two kits shared a look. Sekhi was easily distracted but get her to think about something and that was all you’d hear about until the sun set and rose again.

“So how’d you miss them yellin’? I mean what were ya listening to?” asked Torra, cocking her head slightly and flicking one of her ears.

Sekhi blinked, then frowned and turned her flute over and over in her hands, “I… dunno… I keep thinking I hear somethin'… lately its like… I’ll hear somethin' just over the next dune.” she muttered, “Its… prolly nothin’. It just… sounds kinda like music, like a song I remember hearin’ once but forgot… I dunno.” she shrugged, feeling awkward. She’d mentioned it to her parents, but they told her it was probably just her imagination.

The two kits shrugged, “Well, ya like music. Maybe you’ll be our caravan’s next musician?” suggested Torra with a smile.

Sekhi smiled a bit, “I dunno, I mean all I really know how to play is th' flute… 'n instruments are hard to get out here in Vol’dun… I’d like that though…” she replied, then went back to examining her flute as the two kits sighed. When she got that expression that was all they’d get out of her for a bit. They wondered why Sekhi got put in charge of them, they could have run all the way to Akunda’s Temple and back before she’d notice.

As they did however Sekhi glanced behind them and out of the caravan… she’d swear she just heard something again, the faint sound of a metal drum, and a whisper of song from a voice she remembered as if hearing it in a dream.

The Vulpera Burrows, Two nights later…

Sekhi sat by the campfire, humming softly to herself. It was her namesday today, her parents having gotten her something they’d bargained off a trader who’d passed by on the way south. A small scroll of flute music, though neither one of them had known how to read it. Sekhi didn’t either, but she was hoping she could find someone to teach her. She mostly improvised on her flute.

It was late and most of the other members of the caravan were asleep, save for the guards who kept watch at night… but Sekhi couldn’t sleep. She kept hearing those odd sounds… and tonight they were even louder.

Sekhi folded her ears as she gazed into the campfire, listening to the faint splash of water from their well that led down into an underground river, the whistling of the wind in the dunes, and felt the soft sand under her footpaws. “What is that sound though…” she muttered under her breath, “Its so familiar… but what is it?” she sighed, picking up a twig and tossing it onto the flames.

As she did however, a faint whisper reached her ears, and the vulpera girl suddenly sat bolt upright.

… can… hear us… can you…

Sekhi shivered, her tail fluffing out as she looked around, wide eyed. That sounded like it came from right behind her, but nobody was there! “R-rudo? Is that you playin' a trick? Knock it off or Imma tell your ma!” she said, but the flap to Rudo’s cave was closed and no light was coming from inside it… he must’ve been asleep… right? All she could hear was the wind and the crackle of flames, the guards at the edges of the burrows too far away to be heard.

Sekhi shook her head, her ears flapping around. “Sheesh, maybe I should go to bed… prolly half asleep ‘n dreaming already…” she muttered, sitting back down on the carpet next to the flames…

… yet, she didn’t… the vulpera instead watching the flames dance as the night drew ever on, the moon shining down over Vol’dun from above… and after a bit longer she felt an odd sensation creeping over her… not sleep, but more like a waking sleep… like she was only half there in her body…

Her eyes slipped half lidded as she watched the flames… yet, she almost thought she could hear something in the crackle, a faint sound akin to a fiddle she’d heard played at a moot once several years prior… “Whats… goin' on…” she murmured, watching the flames, mesmerized.

… hear us… can you… listen… hear us…

She blinked, the voices sounding closer now… but they didn’t sound threatening, more like they wanted to be heard, they were desperate to be heard. “W-who are ya?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.

The wind suddenly gusted through the burrows, but it sounded… odd… less like a howl of wind and more like a large flute itself, a whistling twisting sound that wormed its way into the vulpera’s ear.

She blinked again, feeling a strange pulsing sound from under her feet, the girl standing up as if in a daze… there was almost a beat to it, a tempo, a faint metallic thumping sound with each pulse.

… hear us… can you hear us…

Sekhi swayed on the spot, feeling lightheaded… sleepy, but oddly awake and aware as well… she could hear the water sloshing from the well nearby, the river running under the burrows… but it carried an odd thumping sound now, like a drum being beat continuously.

“… yes…” she whispered, her eyes still on the flames. She couldn’t pull them away if she tried. “I… hear ya… who are ya…” she asked.

… take your flute… join our chorus… play for us Sekhi…

She raised her flute without thinking, holding the mouthpiece just mere centimeters from her muzzle. “… how do ya know my name?” she asked.

… we know… we always knew… we knew the day you sang your birth-song to the world… join our chorus… play for us Sekhi…

“I… I dunno how… I just make it up…” she stammered.

… you will… play and the song will come to you, and from you, and within you…

Sekhi held the flute in place, her fur standing on end… then pressed the mouthpiece into place and put her fingers on the holes of the flute in a seemingly random order… took a breath… and began to play.

It came to her with each note, the girl somehow knowing precisely when to play, when to stop for breath, when to switch her fingers and where. It was a song she felt like she’d known all along but just needed a reminder. She kept going without thinking, her eyes wide as she realized she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to!

As she did the wind began to swirl through the burrows again, kicking up sand around her legs, and a gust caught her and made her spin on the spot as her skirt swished around her legs, yet Sekhi kept playing.

She stumbled close to the flames, but they seemed to rear away from her before she touched them, then swished up into a burst of light and energy almost as tall as she was, then seemed to stretch out and around her, twirling with the wind as if dancing to her song. She could feel their heat, but it didn’t burn her, and Sekhi kept playing!

She wasn’t stumbling anymore, her legs seemed to move on their own, the ground pulsing in time with them under her footfalls, beating out a fast tempo as the wind and fire twirled and twined around her. Nearby the river grew louder underground, as if ready to burst its banks, and soon water splashed up to the edges of the well as if trying to reach her, but Sekhi kept playing!

Then, she heard the voices. So many filling her ears, raised in song! A sudden cacophony like she’d never heard before, singing in time with her flute! Hundreds? Thousands? She couldn’t count them all but she could hear each and every one distinctly. Vulpera yes, but also the deep rumbling voices of the tortolla, the soft hissing voices of sethrak, and even thickly accented troll voices, all joining in a song following her flute, repeating the same words over and over...

Hear us! Heed us! Listen to our song! Let our song guide you! We are the voice of Azeroth! We are the Song of the World! Hear us!

Sekhi was vaguely aware of voices around her, but she wasn’t able to focus on much else right now. Lights shone in caves nearby as sleepy vulpera peeked out wondering who was making such a racket at this hour only to stare in wonder at the sight before them.

Sekhi was in the middle of a swirl of fire and wind, sandy motes flying up around her feet as she played, the well beside her practically bursting with water now!

The earth beat in time with her tempo, the wind and fire danced with her, and the water reached out to join the chorus.

Earth, Fire, Wind, and Water, and the singers, the Spirits of those who dwelled in the land of Zandalar.

Finally, slowly, almost too slowly for her suddenly very tired limbs, the voices grew dimmer, then the girl stumbled to a halt and practically wrenched the flute free from her mouth, her tail swishing behind her. She felt like a bolt of lighting had shot through her whole body, yet… it didn’t hurt. She felt ALIVE, as if she’d only been dreaming half her life.

As the voices faded out, they whispered once more to her in a lyrical voice.

Heed us… hear us… you are our singer, our songstress… carry our voice to those who cannot hear and we shall guide you and keep you safe… carry our song, shaman!

“… shaman.” said Kiro’s voice, the caravan leader chuckling softly. “It seems now we have two.” he nodded, his muzzle breaking into a grin. “I was wondering why I couldn’t hear as much anymore, it seems they were paying attention to someone else.” It wasn’t just Kiro there, it seemed like most every vulpera in the burrows was awake now!

Sekhi blinked slowly, “What… me? But… I’m barely past bein' a kit! A shaman?!” she stammered.

“Indeed.” nodded Kiro, walking towards her. “The elements spoke to you just now, didn’t they?”

She looked down at her flute in her hands, “… not spoke no… they… they sang. It sounded like…” she blinked, her ears pricking up as she realized she could still hear something. A faint metallic tempo with a whistling flute like accompaniment, “Like that! Kiro, you’re a shaman, can’t ya hear that?!” she asked, padding quickly over to the elder vulpera.

Kiro cocked his head, “… just wind to me.” he chuckled, “It sounds different to every shaman though. Maybe I’m not the one they need to speak to right now.” he added, “What does it sound like?” he asked curiously.

“Its… music… like…” she suddenly fell to all fours and pressed her ear to the ground, “… like… a metal drum, or some sorta metal somethin'… I can hear it all over under us!” she said in a shocked voice, then sat up and shook the sand out of her ear, "T-th' wind! It ain't wind, it’s a flute! ... or somethin' like a flute! I…”

Sekhi looked at the campfire, scrambling so close to it that Kiro gave a yip of alarm and pulled her back before she could burn her facefur right off! “Th' flames! Its…” her ears twitched, “Some sort of… ‘bruuuum’ sound, I dunno, something like… that guitar thingy that they were playin' at th' last moot! 'n…” she scrambled over to the well and Kiro managed to grab her in time to keep her from diving right over the edge as she stuck her head in up past her shoulders. “Drums! It sounds like drums! I hear drums! It don't just sound like drums, it IS drums!” she yipped again, her tail flailing behind her.

“Alright ALRIGHT!” gasped the older vulpera, pulling her out of the well with a sudden grunt, “Just… take a breath and calm down Sekhi… a shaman’s first encounter with the elements is always a bit… well… much. Just… relax.”

Sekhi couldn’t though, her eyes were wide as her ears twitched every which way, “I… its all music, its like I spent my first thirteen summers deaf!” she gasped in wonder, “Its like Azeroth is singin' to me!” she yipped, her eyes tearing up, the young vulpera unable to stop smiling now. “Its so beautiful Kiro! Is this what it’ll sound like all th' time now?!”

Kiro was at a loss however, “W-well, probably not all the time… I mean I’ve never heard of a shaman who heard the elements constantly… but… well… I never met a shaman who heard music either.” he admitted with a shrug.

As they discussed his, or rather Sekhi babbled on at her suddenly expanded world, two sets of footsteps drew close and an older pair of vulpera, a man and a woman with the same yellow-sandy fur as Sekhi stepped into the ring of firelight.

“Kiro… you’re saying our girl is the caravan’s new shaman?” asked her father, looking at his excitedly jabbering daughter, the younger vulpera grinning ear to ear as she tried to listen to all the new sounds at once, her eyes still brimming with tears at how overwhelming it all was.

“I believe so Atu, seems pretty certain to me. I mean, she’s definitely hearing SOMEthing, and I could tell that was the elements she was working with a few moments back.” he replied.

At this her mother spoke up, “Um… as exciting as this is, is she going to be like this all the time now?” she asked with a slightly nervous grin.

“Oh I wouldn’t worry Risala. It was a bit of a rush for me too but it tends to wear off…”

“… n-now th' wind sounds like some kinda glass flute! Now some sorta metal one! I think I can hear somethin' else now! I… hotsandseverythin'justwentspinny…” she yipped, then her head rolled onto one shoulder as she fell fast asleep in Kiro’s grasp.

“… somewhat suddenly.” finished the caravan master with a faint chuckle.

In the fullness of time the Horde would come to Zandalar and, over many adventures, would save Vol’dun and all of the island from an ancient threat that long laid buried under the dunes. Following this the caravan would leave Vol’dun entirely for the city of Orgrimmar and Sekhi would begin her own travels under the Horde banner… but this was where it all began for the young shamaness, the first time she heard the Song of the World.

#warcraft #warcraft roleplay #adventures in azeroth #fanfiction #vulpera

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cenforce-150mg · 2 years

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mygoo · 3 years

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Man you really should have thought this through. You had spent your life as a closeted gainer. Frustratingly unable to ever put on weight that would stick.

Like many in your position you found some solace in works of fiction online describing guys blowing up and packing on doughy lard. Sometimes the stories were gradual and realistic, but others would feature something that would produce rapid, massive gains, those were always your favorite.

So one day when a message came across your inbox on your favorite gainer site that seemed to promise these types of results, your interest was piqued. The message was big and flashy, noting in several places to guarantee immediate, permanent gains of your choice. It's hard to take any message like this seriously, but when you saw the price it seemed reasonable. You decided to indulge, even though it'll surely turn out to be just a bit of harmless fun.

The site linked to the message offered brightly colored vials of its special gain formula in three options, chubby, huge, and blob. You of course chose the latter. In your fantasies you often dreamt of possessing a body near the four digits, a far cry from your current 151. A mountain made to consume and produce lard.

When the box arrived on your doorstep a few days later, you excitedly brought it in and ripped it open. Putting aside your doubts to further the fantasy you examined the vial inside while plopping down onto your bed. It's purpleish hue was enticing, but when you popped the rubber cork off the top you were dismayed to realize it smelled just like grape koolaid.

Hah, well what were you expecting? This must be the most expensive grape koolaid I've ever bought. "Well, might as well not let it go to waste" you say to yourself as you gulp it down.

You shuffle back to the head of your bed as you sulk about this latest letdown. This feeling however doesn't last long as you start to feel a bubbling deep in your stomach. You lift your shirt up and find your belly starting to pout out. The feeling quickly spreads to the rest of your body as the same transformation beings to take place elsewhere.

You're stunned. True to its word, the formula was increasing your weight rapidly. Within seconds your clothes were toast. Your eyes dart around your body, first back to your belly surging forward and taking up more and more of your lap, from your arms billowing out with saggy flesh, to your moobs, my god you had moobs, spreading out atop, all nestled on an ever widening base. A minute in you have to be closing in on 500lbs with no signs of slowing down, you continue to sit and admire your impossible gain. Just shy of another minute later you feel the changes tapering down.

"Woah" you gasp loudly, partially due to the situation you just went though, but also partly due to the fact that your breathing, well, it's just like that now, your lungs buried under piles and piles of new flesh.

You gaze out over your expanse, your monstrous belly dominating it. You feel it resting on the tops of your pudgy feet. A tiny story detail you had always relished in, but this, this was real. You guessed your weight to be close to, if not more than your goal weight. A gain of around 800lbs in the course of two minutes, you'll say it again "woah." A blob to be sure.

You go to lift your arm to touch your belly and find that you have to exert a lot more force just to move its heft. You push and lift it up partially, your saggy arm flesh never losing contact with your moobs and side rolls. You slam it back down after simply letting go and letting its flab rocket it back down. The motion causing ripples and waves across your expansive flesh that to your delight take a long time to dissipate. You smile as you realize you have finally gotten everything you could have wanted and more. The end...

See, here's the thing to know if you somehow find yourself in a real-life gainer story such as myself that you don't know going in. While your favorite stories find a way to wrap up on a high note like that, you'll find that reality is a much crueler bitch.

Coming down from your bliss you ponder on what to do next. You really want to take your whole body in, so a trip to your spare room with the full length mirrors is in line. You instinctively go to move your body as you normally would 10 minutes and 800lbs ago, but in what really shouldn't be a surprise, you don't move at all.

The new weight really finally lands on your shoulders to crush you in more ways than one. Oh fuck, of course I'm immobile. You don't get to this size without it. Concern sets in as you try to think of what to do next. You scan your room to find your phone so you can call for help.

You heart sinks as you see it sitting on your desk. Mere feet away it's no problem in any other situation. "Fuck" you say to yourself out loud this time, but getting your phone is your only option.

With reignited fervor you resolve to find a way to propel your body there. You start rocking back and forth as best you can, hoping you can scooch yourself to the edge of the bed. From there, well, we'll think of what to do next if and when we get there.

The rocking of course turns you on despite your duress. Deep inside your new fat pad, you become aware of your dick rock hard and leaking. At least it's still in the fantasy, but in reality it's yet another problem you are powerless to resolve, albeit much less of a priority.

Several minutes and buckets of sweat later your plan has worked and you find yourself sitting on the edge of your bed with your pudgy feet assumedly touching the floor. Your mass covered in a sweaty sheen is really a sight to see. "Goddammit, huff... I would love... to be able... to enjoy this... right now," you curse to yourself.

So what to do next. Can you walk? It seems risky. Your desk is really only a step away (for a normal man), you think you can reach your phone if you extend your arm out as far as you can. You start to reach, exhausted by the work it took to get you here and by the effort required to keep your ham hock in the air, let-alone stretching out to reach. You're miles away from grasping your phone. You lean your whole body forward since your belly is not giving you a lot of leeway in the bending department.

You stretch and wiggle your pudgy digits in a feigned effort to reach just a little further. The thought of your sausage roll fingers not being able to grasp or operate it if you reach it flashes across your mind, causing your dick to tingle.

You're mere inches away from your phone now, your lifeline to call for help. Which who knows, may come in the form of a food delivery man instead of emergency services, you think as your spirits are lifted again due to your progress.

This, however, is short lived as you reach a literal tipping point where your belly avalanches downward, pulling you helplessly with it. You slam to the floor with a loud thud, with additional sounds of the wooden beams of your floor splintering due to your ponderous mass.

Fuck, you really should have thought this through.

#wg #weight gain #gainer fiction #gainer stories #wg stories #immobile #ssbhm

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xmyshya · 3 years

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Soft

summary: I am a firm believer that Atsumu CAN be soft. When he wants to. And now he just might. genre: fluff, crack, smut warnings: fem!reader, soft Atsumu, sexual tension, making love at the end, MINORS DNI special thanks: HQHQ and our lovely Atsumu sessions, you guys gave me so much inspiration for the last part. I love you. I love you all. a/n: I don’t want to say that I’m proud of this one, but I am. wc: 2.7k

Looking at the friend sitting across the table in the quiet corner of this adorable cafe, you can’t help but think how crazy it has been. Mostly because he’s an idiot, but you LOVE that idiot. “Y/N? Are ya even listenin’?” “Uhh… yes?” “What were ya thinkin’ ‘bout so hard anyway?” “Okay, uhm, remember when…”

The gym was huge and offered a lot of equipment, half of it having names you’d never heard before. The only problem? It was constantly crowded. Except for crazy early hours, which is why you were dressed in your tracksuit and drenched at 5 am. Yet, you were still not alone at this ungodly time. On the first day, he visibly hesitated before entering, clearly wanting absolutely no company. You couldn’t really blame him, he was probably followed by throngs of fans and paparazzi every day. The man must have deemed you harmless however, because he stayed. Well, at the other end of the enormous room, but stayed. He came back on the next day. And next one. And another, and soon enough you were nodding at each other in a silent greeting. This odd ritual continued on for a few weeks, until… “Hey, ya… come here often?” Fuckfuckfuck, he was still sporting the smug smile, though his eyes were filled with panic. You stared at him dumbfounded. Guess even celebrities struggle sometimes. “Uhh… I… N-no, this is my first time.” Both of you erupted in laughter. “Miya Atsumu, nice to meet ya.” “Oh yeah, I know.” He raised an eyebrow. “I mean… L/N Y/N, nice to meet you too”

“D’ya really gonna rub it in ma face til the end of ma life?” “Nah, I’m pretty sure I’ll forget when I’m old, so I gotta make use of it till I can.” The blonde doesn’t look happy. Amusing. “So what were you talking about?” “Oh right, so there’s gonna be a party for the team and friends, and… uhh… would you like to… be my plus one?” Of course you would like to. Love to. “Lemme know what colours ya wanna wear.” “Ehh? You wanna match or something?” There is a teasing undertone in your question. He either misses it or ignores. “I’ve always wanted to do that…” But you already know. Black and gold, the colours of his team. Yes, obviously that’s the only reason. It’s completely unrelated to your current imaginations of Atsumu looking smoking hot in a black fitted suit, black shirt, and matte gold tie. Totally not.

You’re still adding final touch ups, when the doorbell rings through the air. “Open!” In response there’s a click of the door, opening and closing, and Atsumu announces his arrival with a sigh saying why aren’t ya ready yet. “I’m coming, I’m coming.” You shift from your bedroom to the hall, and he whistles. Sharply. You know you look good in that black dress, hugging tightly all your curves (extra points for a deep notch on the back and thin golden chains), and golden heels. And now, he knows it too. Just like you assumed, he does look great. So great, that the only image filling your head as your eyes run down and up on him is how much you want to rip that suit off of him. Party? You’d rather have a one-on-one party against the wall he’s leaning on. Or a kitchen counter. Or a sofa. Shower maybe? “Are ya checkin’ me out?” Again that smug look on his face. You really want to wipe it off. With your lips. “Must be your imagination.” You push him out of the apartment and lock the door.

One of the greatest mysteries of this world must be why elevator scenes are so… weird. Weirdly hot. You’re both on the opposite ends of the tiny cube, ogling each other and turning your gaze away. “Ya really look beautiful.” “Thank you.” Silence. “You look great too. Perfect ten.” You look him straight in the eyes, and if you have the timing right… “Very fuckable.” Ding and the door opens. You brush his chest while walking out. Atsumu forgets to leave the elevator.

Party hall is already swarming with people when you arrive. Faces from magazine covers flash here and there, some of them entertaining whoever wants to listen, some whispering mysterious promises in eager ears, some just roaming around in search of god knows what. “I’ll get us some drinks” is one of those promises, and Atsumu leaves your side. He’s quickly replaced by one of those roaming creatures. “You here alone?” He’s much too close to your liking. “Actually I-” “You’re beautiful. Absolutely stunning. I’m Shugo-” “Meian!” The voice of your companion startles you with its sudden proximity, but also brings comfort. As soon as the drink is passed in your hand, you feel his touch on the small of your back. “Oh, I didn’t know you two were-” “We’re not.” “We’re friends.” Both of your replies come immediately. Meian straightens up and smiles. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I went for her?” “Not like I have any right to stop ya.” Miya says calmly, but you can feel his whole body tense up against yours.

“Alright everyone, we’d like to make a toast…” Clinking of glasses interrupts your surprisingly pleasant conversation with the MSBY captain, but soon enough he’s back to flooding you with questions. Atsumu walks away to join his other teammates. “Please excuse me.” You don’t even look at the male next to you, focused only on catching up with the blond friend. His questioning gaze burns a hole at the side of your head. “I came here with you.” “Is that the only reason?” Your eyes meet and you give him a lopsided grin. “Nah, you’re much hotter.” He stands a little taller, visibly more confident, fuller of himself. His hand finds its way to your hip and he pulls you a little closer.

Next two hours are spent on the dance floor, countless people already pulling you back before you even step outside of the designated area. You’re currently trapped in the arms of none other than Bokuto Koutarou, and you could swear you were swayed by the sheer force of his alone. But you don’t mind, his energy of a nuclear reactor and megawatt smile fully compensate for any inconveniences. The song comes to an end however, and you quickly follow him back to the table. “Ya don’t wanna dance anymore?” Atsumu asks when you settle in your chair, looking for something to replenish your energy. “Why?” “Ya looked so happy on the dance floor. And yet, yer sittin’ here now.” “Were you watching me this closely?” His ears fire up like Christmas lights. “I do.” “Huh?” “I do wanna dance.” For a moment you’re both just staring at each other in silence. Then you notice gears turning slowly in his head, and, at the moment of realisation, a light bulb. “May I please have this dance?” He holds a hand out, and you place yours in it. Atsumu leads you towards the swaying crowd, and then pulls you close. So close, that your bodies could merge. “And the next one too.” He purrs in your ear.

Miya’s breath on your skin is hot and distracting. Does he feel you shiver every time he exhales on your neck? He must, you conclude, since his palm is resting on your bare back. “Ya smell so good…” The whisper caresses your ear, his lips so close, yet so far. “Mmm… you too.” And those lips curl up.

It’s not just this dance. And not just the next one either. Many dances later and you’re still glued to his body, surrounded by a muscular arm, and one hand still in his. The other one playing mindlessly with his undercut. “Looks like Meian found someone to take home t’night.” “Hmm? Did you?” You pull a strand of his hair and lightly scratch his nape. “Do that again and I might get dangerous.” “Maybe I like doing dangerous things?” There’s a movement near your thigh, and you both hope those words carry a promise.

It’s well into the night and people start leaving, but it seems like the blonde is still not ready to let you out of his embrace. You lean your head on his shoulder, forehead right under his jaw, and let him rock you gently to the slow music. With eyes closed, breathing in his scent, it feels almost as if you two were the only people here. “Are ya tired?” You only purr in response. “Lessgo home then. Wanna stay at mine?” “Oya?” “I-i-it’s… not whatcha think… A won’t… won’t touch ya.” “But if you won’t, then what’s the point?” He freezes, agape, and you wonder how the hell someone so hot can become so flustered. “But seriously, I don’t have a change of clothes” which is a lie, because you do have spare panties in your tiny purse “or cosmetics, or-” “I’ll give ya somethin’ to sleep in.”

The door behind you closes with a quiet click. God, it feels so good to finally, finally take these heels off. You put your purse on a drawer right next to the door, and proceed to take your earrings off, placing them neatly in a tiny pouch. “Tsumu? Could you help me with the necklace?” He doesn’t say anything, instead coming behind you and trying to unclasp the piece of jewelry. Trying, because his hands shake. You take a sneak peek at him through the mirror, at his focused face and slightly poked tongue. He’s so adorable. In the meantime you reach to your hair and start removing the pins, but soon your hands are pulled away and replaced with his. It’s surprising but endearing how gentle this giant man can be. You close your eyes and just enjoy the moment, as your strands tickle your nape one by one. And then something hot and wet tickles your neck, right below your ear. Oh. Oh. “A… ‘m sorry, a didn’t mean to…” Nononono, come back here. You grab his tie and pull him down to a kiss, a searing clash of lips, slowly beginning to move against one another. One of his hands caresses your back, right under the edge of your dress, the other one pulls your hair gently making you gasp. His tongue slides along your lips painfully slowly, and you chase it with yours until the tips meet. The feeling is electrifying, sending shivers through your whole body.

Undressing Miya Atsumu is similar to unwrapping a Christmas present you’ve been waiting for for months. Button after button, you reveal more and more of his heavenly sculpted chest and stomach, your lips following the hands. He loves it, the feeling of your wet muscle soothing the bites drives him crazy, little purrs he lets out make his chest vibrate. It’s almost unbearable. He decides he can’t take it anymore when you hook your fingers under his pants and start unzipping them, grazing his cock. He pulls you close, sliding your dress off of you, and letting it pool at your feet. And then drags you to the bathroom, where he rids both of you of your underwear. The man enters the shower, extending his hand to you, and you grab it by instinct, before being pulled right under the stream of steamy water. “‘Tsumu, I’m gonna look like a panda!” “Eh? But pandas are cute tho?” “I’d rather look hot right now” He laughs boyishly, almost innocently, as he pumps some of his face wash and rubs it gently all over your features. His calloused fingertips massage your forehead and temples, while thumbs work on your chin and nose. It fills you with millions of bubbles, cotton candy surrounding your heart as fluffy as the foam. “‘Tsumu?” “Mmm?” “Kiss me.” And he does. At first it’s slow and sweet, but as your hands wash away the evening from the skin, there’s more hunger, more passion. Atsumu pulls and lifts you, throwing you over his shoulder as he walks out of the bathroom. “‘Tsumuuuu! The towels! We’re NOT sleeping in a wet bed!” “Who said anything about sleepin’, princess?”

Idiot.

Bonus scene: “Good morning sunshine.”

He whispers against your forehead after your lashes tickle his neck. His palms embrace your cheeks, and his lips on yours are as soft as summer rain. Pecks become open mouthed kisses, invitations and promises of summer heat. Breaths and sighs remind you of a seaside breeze, carrying the freshness of waves and hotness of sand. Your hands are roaming in search of a buried treasure, but no matter how much they find, it’s not enough. It’s never enough. His mouth ghost over the shells of your ears, spilling words smooth and shiny like pearls, while fingers trail new paths under the veil of your shirt. They discover new lands, gliding along the skin, making it bloom in tiny goosebumps wherever they touch. Kisses and licks flow at the surface of your neck, sealing and sucking over sensitive spots, painting them in pinks, reds, and purples. Big palms cover the hills of your breasts, thumbs sweep over the nipples so gently, that you’re not even sure if you imagined it.

Your naked body shivers underneath his, and arches into his warm embrace, as his lips press silent praises into your skin. You open your eyes, and you don’t know which is brighter - the sunshine pouring through the windows, or the sunshine of his hair. You can touch his hair though. So you do, and the soft rivers of gold cascade and tickle in between your fingers. Atsumu raises his gaze and smiles against your skin, lighting up your heart.

Reaching your heat, he pulls the strings of your pleasure with each kiss, each flick of his tongue, and you sing the ballad he composes. In this concert you’re the star, you’re the diva, and he’s merely there to worship you, to accompany your voice, to encourage and appreciate. He’s guiding you through the quiet breathy parts, not much louder than a whisper. He’s caressing the keys, adding more passion, more force, more depth, eliciting notes reaching higher, pushing you through a crescendo, rapidly, lovingly, until you’re nothing but an effusion of pleads and cries of his name.

“Atsumu, come back to me.” You breathe out.

And he’s walking the path again, kissing the ground he steps on, coming back to where he belongs, where he wants to belong. Your eyes meet when he glides into you, slowly, carefully, as if any sharp movement would shatter you and this moment. Atsumu nibbles at your lips and you let him in, let his tongue dance with yours, as your fingers intertwine.

One more push joins your hips, and you both let out a breathy sigh. He pulls back and rolls back in, making sure you feel all the veins, until his tip kisses your cervix. And again. And once more.

“Ah… Tsumu…” And he knows he’s lost.

“God, yer so beautiful.”

You’re sinking in his eyes like molten chocolate, and the whole world ceases to exist. There’s only you and him, and the flame spilling from where you’re joined, overtaking your bodies, minds, and senses. It’s too much, it wells up in your eyes and overspills, and he’s quick to brush it away. A kiss is placed on your temple and travels down your cheek and onto your neck. With a free hand you rub mindless patterns on his back, scrape at his nape, while his roams down along your skin, adorning all the curves.

You moan into his shoulder at the sudden touch. He only grazes your clit and you’re fluttering, pulling him deeper inside of you. The movement is slow, as slow as the roll of his hips, as the drag of his tongue on your throat. But it spreads like a wildfire, floods your mind in waves until everything is drowned in a white haze and explodes in a million stars.

“Come with me”

And he does. He paints his own milky way inside of you, releasing galaxies upon galaxies until he pours everything he has, until he’s empty and you’re full. He does, because he would follow you anywhere.

#haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu smut #miya atsumu smut #atsumu fluff #miya atsumu fluff #atsumu crack #miya atsumu crack #haikyuu x y/n #atsumu x y/n #miya atsumu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smut #haikyuu crack #mysh.supernova.[hq]

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stubbychaos · 4 years

Text

A Guilty Conscience

Chapter 10 of Saviin’ika

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: While you get used to your new role in the tribe, you make it your mission to meet the ones who are to be your family. While befriending some unlikely members of the tribe, Paz later surprises you with something that he thinks will make you happy, though it ends up having the opposite effect.

Rating: T

Word Count: 14,000 *Y’all idk how this happened, I’m so sorry lol*

Warnings: Some unresolved sexual tension, minor injuries and reader still dealing with a bunch of past trauma. Other than that, this chapter is pretty harmless!

Just a quick mention: Thank you as always to @datmando for inspiring me and giving me so many amazing ideas for this story!! You’ve helped me so much with this story and getting through writer’s block and I freaking love you <3 Thank you as well to @aerynwrites @hdlynnslibrary and @maybege for all being wonderful and I love you all for motivating me to write more Paz!!

Also thank you to @coredrive for the beautiful gifs you made!! If anyone wants quality gifs for their stories, masterlists, etc... please go to Kat because she was so freaking lovely and sweet!!

“Would you like one of my shirts, ner cyare?”

You turn around, coming face to face with an unarmored Paz who is sitting on the foot of the bed, his forearms lazily resting on top of his thighs as he observes the way you hopelessly shift the torn, silky fabric in your hands. You turn to face the culprit who is currently curled up in a white rocky ball close to the furnace in the main area of Paz’s private quarters, seeming completely unbothered and not regretful that she had used your only sleep attire as a chewing toy while you were in the shower and Paz was talking to the armorer.

“That would be nice, thank you,” You murmur softly, watching with a smile as he promptly stands and makes his way over to the dresser near his bed while you discard the torn, silky fabric.

Though a few days have passed since the fight without incident--much to your appreciation--you notice Paz acting differently around you and while it’s not in a bad way by any means, it still has your curiosity growing. You notice how he almost seems worried about letting you stray too far from him, though you’re certain it’s not because he’s concerned one of his own will hurt you again, but perhaps he has the same fears you hold in your very own heart. While you’ve only been with the tribe for three days, you find yourself getting less sleep with every passing day, afraid that when you wake up, you’ll be right back at the village infirmary with your estranged father.

Perhaps he’s anxious that if he lets you out of his sight, you’ll randomly decide to leave without a word or trace.

The thought amuses you and also fills your heart with grief, wondering how the Mandalorian could possibly conjure the thought of you even thinking about leaving the place that had quickly become your safe haven.

“I’m going to shower, if you want to change,” Paz gruffly voices as he approaches you with a thick, black garment and you perk up a little upon feeling how warm it is--how warm it will keep you.

Once the Mandalorian is in the refresher, you’re quick to strip your clothes, smiling softly as you neatly fold the emerald, long-sleeved dress that Ima had found for you in a designated stack of clothes that wasn’t being worn by anyone in the tribe. Once you are only in your shorts, you grab Paz’s black shirt that he must wear over all his padding and sheepishly tug it over your head, instantly relishing in how it smells just like him--all woodsy and spicy and just like the soap he uses. The material is incredibly thick, though it’s not stiff and doesn’t make it feel like you’re suffocating; it feels soft and comforting against your bare skin, engulfing you so warmly just like one of his embraces, though you still long for the intense pressure of his arms around you. The sleeves that usually come to an end just above his elbows now fall just a few inches above your wrists and the hem skims the middle of your thighs.

As you sit on the edge of the bed and get to work on tending to your braids and all the tangles from the hair you had chosen to leave down, you think of how surreal everything still feels and how all the horrors you had ever dreamed about running away from are currently above you in the village. You try your hardest not to think about it, and instead, your mind wanders to the tribe and its intimidating, rambunctious warriors that you’ve been interacting with in the covert for the past few days.

It’s been… an interesting experience, to say the least.

For people who you used to be terrified of until recently, you think it’s somewhat surprising as well as amusing that Paz had been correct when he mentioned them being quite mischievous when it came to you, though you’re certain most of it comes from you being an outsider and not understanding their language. It had already happened a couple times where you would be exploring the enclave, trying to memorize the tunnels and where different ones led, and you would run into a small group of Mandos speaking in their native tongue as you shyly approached them to introduce yourself.

Most of the time they would simply peer down at you while informing you that they already knew who you were--that they had seen you standing your ground against Paz, which apparently nobody in the tribe had ever really done before. It was quite interesting seeing everyone’s perspective towards their heavy-infantry warrior, how they knew him to be one of the strongest in the tribe and how they respected him for it. However, it was also slightly amusing that they seemed to have no problem making jokes at his expense--talking about how they were glad you were at the covert so he would stop being grouchy and angry all the time.

Ima, you found, was the exact same way, although she had no qualms about berating the man she called her uncle to his face.

Seeing the way the teenager and your blue warrior interacted with one another felt like some sort of special phenomenon that you had never really witnessed before--a relationship stronger than that between a sister and a brother, but not quite as profound as one between a daughter and father. You thought uncle and niece was a good way to describe it and though you’re curious as to why Ima doesn’t call anyone else in the tribe ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, you decide it’s better not to ask for the sake of accidentally bringing up a sad memory.

You’re too deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice a hulking figure emerge from the refresher minutes later, a few water droplets dripping down his shoulders and back as he mindlessly observes you combing through your hair with your fingers.

A small cough startles you and you turn your head to gaze at Paz, his helmet slightly tilted to the side as he stares at you through the guise of that unforgiving visor. Your fingers are still threaded in your damp hair, your bare legs dangling off the side of his bed with your sock-clad toes barely skimming the stone floor as you blink owlishly at him, still not used to seeing him expose so much of his skin.

He’s not saying anything and it has you slightly worried--have you done something wrong?

“Paz, are you okay?”

His bare, broad shoulders tense upwards when you shift on the bed, finally working through a stubborn tangle as you tilt your head at him; you find yourself doing that a lot more lately and you think being surrounded by so many Mandalorians has their little mannerisms rubbing off on you.

You move to get up when he doesn't say anything, now worried that you really have done something wrong, but Paz shakes his head and squashes your worries immediately.

"No--I mean, yes," He huffs and shakes his helmet a little harder when you stand up next to the bed to pull the thick fur away from the pillows it's tucked under while he moves to turn off the lights, "I'm fine, just a little tired, cyare."

You nod your understanding, feeling your own exhaustion creeping up on you, though today had been a relatively easy day in regards to treating scrapes and bruises. You’ve come to find that some of the younger, less trained Mandalorians aren’t exactly the most graceful on their feet, some tripping over their own capes while descending staircases, while others who are less skilled with blades or blasters manage to slip up and injure themselves. It’s definitely not the kind of injuries you’re used to tending--minor ones--but you find it much more pleasant and rewarding than your job in the village, especially when everyone here has treated you politely, for the most part.

You know that even while you had been accepted into the tribe, it doesn’t quite make you part of the family to some, especially to those who still felt as though you should swear the creed to be fully accepted. It was a big detail you had worried about quite a bit, whether or not you would have to swear the creed and wear a helmet just as the rest of them, but you think that perhaps it is a topic you should speak to the armorer about.

You slide underneath the heavy fur and exhale a content sigh, reminding yourself that such worries could wait until morning.

A yawn leaves you just as you hear the quiet hiss of Paz’s helmet being removed before he places it on his nightstand and a tired smile stretches your lips when you feel the mattress dip underneath the weight of the warrior’s body.

Before you can even turn to face him, his huge arm is wrapped around your waist and he’s carefully moving you closer to him; an intense warmth spreads throughout your cheeks when he holds you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he wastes no time in placing a kiss to the top of your damp hair. You can feel the heat from his bare chest already spreading throughout your entire body and you curl your legs back to press your feet against his bare ankles.

He lets out a small huff as he curls his fingers into the soft material of his shirt covering your abdomen and leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek, “You are lucky I love you, or else I would not let you wear socks in our bed.”

The ‘our bed’ comment definitely doesn’t go over your head and you hold back a giggle when he sighs against your warm skin, his thumb stroking firm circles near your belly button, “I cannot help it that my feet are always cold.”

His chest rumbles with a soft laugh as he settles behind you, his hand moving a little lower to your hip, just underneath where your cauterized wound is still healing, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, “I told you that you’d do nothing to warm our bed up, mesh’la, I knew I was right. You’re always freezing.”

“If I recall correctly, you told me that you would not mind keeping me warm,” You remind him of what he had said the night he had told you his name, your cheeks growing hot when you feel his lips against the outer shell of your ear, “And you are doing no such thing, ori kebiin.”

“You are a funny woman,” Paz is still trying not to laugh as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, long fingers splayed widely against your burning cheeks, “You feel plenty warm to me, sweetheart.”

Realizing that there’s no way of beating the Mandalorian at his own game, you give up and simply shuffle your curled toes between his calves, making him grunt a little when he feels the blocks of ice that are your sock-clad feet through the material of his sleep pants. He cups your jaw and urges your head to the side a little, using his thumb that’s pressed to the corner of your lips to seek them out with his own.

This close intimacy is certainly another thing you’ve noticed since you forgave him after the fight--him wanting to kiss and touch you whenever it’s just the two of you. It’s definitely something you don’t mind, you realize as his tongue firmly swipes across your bottom lip, and you find yourself growing more comfortable and relaxed when it comes to accepting little touches from him. You can tell that it’s something he’s nervous about when you two are just laying in his bed, wide awake when sleep refuses to wrap itself around the two of you--that he’s worried something he does will set you off.

He always tries to keep his touches to your thighs and hips feather-light after politely asking if it’s okay for him to touch you there and a part of you wonders if he’s already concluded that you’re simply not used to people asking you for consent when it comes to certain things.

Even if it’s not the reason why, you’re still grateful he always asks and his consideration fills your heart with warmth whenever he seems so hellbent on making sure you’re comfortable when you two find yourself in these sort of intimate settings. It doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s him testing your boundaries, but more so him seeing what you like and what gets certain noises out of you, though you find your skin quite sensitive to every nip and lick he inflicts on you.

A part of you is grateful that he usually lies on his back when the two of you are holding one another, as the thought of being pinned underneath anyone again, even your blue warrior, lingers like a storm cloud in the back of your mind.

Currently, however, you focus on the way his fingers tentatively curl around your thigh, just below the hem of the shirt he had given you and your lashes flutter as he guides your head back a little so he has more access to your throat. He seems a little more eager tonight, you think, and as his fingers curl into the thick fabric at your thighs while he dutifully presses tender kisses to your sensitive skin, you start to slowly put the pieces together.

“Paz?” His name comes out in the form of a breathy whisper as he settles back to press a kiss into your damp hair.

He still seems slightly dazed as he brings his arm back to curl tightly around your waist, “Hm?”

“Earlier, when you were staring at me when you came out of the shower,” You grin a little when you feel the way his arms tense around your middle, “Was it… is it because I’m wearing your shirt?”

Paz huffs an amused noise and you’re certain you’ve left him flustered for once as he slowly shifts his body until he’s able to rest his chin against the slope of your neck, “I like the way you look in anything, cyare, but something about seeing you wearing my clothes--it does things to me. I can’t say that I am upset that your vulptex tore up your nightgown, not with how beautiful you look right now.”

“You can’t even see me right now, silly man.”

“I don’t need to,” He mumbles, his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he lazily tends to all the little marks he left behind with his lips and teeth the previous night, “I remember everything about you, ner cyare, like how your eyes always get big whenever you see me taking off my armor and my clothes. Perhaps my sweet little nurse isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

You nearly let out with a whimper when you feel his tongue on your skin, your cheeks burning furiously as his hand cautiously grazes up your thigh, “Is this okay?”

His tepid breath fanning along the column of your throat makes you shiver a little and your voice cracks a little when you speak, “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He repeats with a soft sigh, his hand moving past the little shorts you typically wear to bed and up to your bare hip, just underneath where your blaster wound is still tender, though not nearly causing you as much pain, “Stars, your skin is so damn soft and your hair smells good--just like those flowers you’re always wearing.”

You let your eyes close as he continues to explore your stomach with feather-like strokes, seeming content to simply warm you with his large hand and you feel your thighs clench together firmly when he rubs a sensitive spot just underneath your belly button. His hands are leaving a scorching blaze in their wake and you feel a deep shudder wrack your body upon feeling the wet, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving just underneath your earlobe.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you jump when his fingertips barely graze just above the hem of your shorts and he immediately freezes upon feeling the tension in your body.

“I’m sorry,” Your ears grow hot with shame and you think he must be frustrated with you for not feeling ready to be intimate on this kind of level yet, “I just--”

“Hey, don’t you dare ever apologize for knowing when you’re not ready,” He whispers, moving his lips away from your jaw and removing his hand from underneath the shirt he let you borrow, “I shouldn’t have done that--I should have asked first.”

“It’s okay,” You weakly reassure him, smiling softly when he politely fixes your shirt, dragging the hem back down your thighs, “I... I want to be with you like that and I thought I was ready but I... I don’t know.”

“You do not owe me an explanation. I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” Paz promises in a rushed tone as he moves to unlatch his arm from around you, though you are quick to stop him, “I am sorry if I was too forward, cyare. I want you to only ever feel comfortable around me and if I ever do or say anything that you don’t like, please tell me, okay? I’ll never be mad at you.”

“I love you, Paz.”

He relaxes against you and presses another tender kiss into the hair above the tip of your ear, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.”

You smile into the darkness at the warmth his words bring you, though you can’t help but to feel doubt towards yourself and you turn your head a little over your shoulder until his warm breath fans across the plane of your cheek. Even though you can’t see him in the slightest, you like to imagine his eyes scanning your face thoughtfully--curiously--and you hear him let out an inquisitive hum when you murmur his name.

“I haven’t been able to sleep the last couple of days,” You admit softly, placing your hand on top of the much larger one that’s resting just under your sternum, “I’m scared that every night here is going to be my last one--that someone isn’t going to want me here because I haven’t sworn to the creed and that I don’t wear a helmet or armor.”

Paz exhales softly and you close your eyes when his minty breath tickles your nostrils, “Our alor already knows that you were to be brought to the tribe to be our nurse, not a fighter. I made it clear to everyone that you would not have to wear our armor and if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me or the armorer. You’re not going anywhere… not if you don’t want to.”

You detect the way his voice lowers into a much more sheepish, subdued tone upon whispering the last part and your suspicions from earlier are proved correct.

He’s afraid that you’re going to change your mind about staying with the tribe.

In an attempt to squash his own fears and insecurities, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and urge his arm up past your chest until you are able to lean your head down a little and kiss his calloused knuckles tenderly. He lets out a content sigh as you let him splay his fingers out widely against the swell of your breast, your heart pounding frantically against his palm while his thumb studies your firm pulse at the base of your neck.

“I just want to be wherever you are, Paz,” You murmur, your lips stretching into a smile when he tenderly kisses your cheek again.

“I feel the same way about you,” He sighs, finally relaxing completely as you keep his hand cradled to your chest, “Anything else you’re losing sleep over, cyare?”

For a moment it sounds like he’s teasing you, but something about the rawness and sincerity of his voice makes you think differently and you swallow the lump in your throat as you think of the little boy from the nursery--the one that had clung onto your leg and hugged you. Though a part of you wants to ask Paz more about how he was found and what happened to his parents, you think it best not to ask and shake your head a little bit.

It is none of your business.

“Try to get some rest,” Paz murmurs against your cheek, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, “I’ll make sure to wake you up if you have any nightmares.”

You murmur a tired ‘thank you’ and let your eyes slip shut, feeling reassured by his words and the feathery press of his lips against the tail of your brow, along with the way his thumb continues to rest atop your pulse point at the bottom of your neck.

For once, you sleep restfully--not necessarily dreaming of much, but not really having any nightmares either. You’re stuck in a strange limbo for the rest of the night and at one point, you feel Paz stroking your brow in an effort to calm you down upon feeling your body jolt when you wake from a strange dream that has you crying out.

As you fall back asleep underneath the comforting guidance of his hands and sweet whispers against the shell of your ear, you briefly wonder if the heavy-infantry warrior ever sleeps.

The next morning when you wake up and tiredly crack your eyes open, Paz is already fumbling around the little kitchenette, his helmet and underclothes now on and you prop yourself up on an elbow as you watch him set a wooden bowl down in front of your excited vulptex. The dish is filled with colorful fruit and chunks of meat and you think it must be the best meal she’s had since she was born, what with her dramatic reaction. She lets out long, happy little squeaks between bites and you think you hear something reminiscent of a laugh or a chuckle from Paz’s vocoder when he reaches out to graze a bare hand along her rocky spine.

“And here I thought you hated her,” You murmur with a yawn, stretching your arms above your head before gracelessly rolling out of bed, the room dimly lit as you make your way over to your beloved companions, “You and everyone else are always calling her a runt.”

Paz snorts and shakes his head a little, tilting his head a little as he hands you a bowl of fruit that has some yogurt underneath, “She is a runt, saviin--doesn’t mean I hate her for it. Besides, she tried to bite Djarin in the leg yesterday, so I guess she’s starting to grow on me.”

You huff a little at that as you savor the fresh berries, your taste buds still not used to such sweet food, and you shake your head at your Mandalorian, “You better not be training my sweet vulptex to attack others, Paz.”

“I would do no such thing,” Paz still sounds a little smug as he begins to put on all of his thick padding and heavy armor, “I’d only train her how to attack the bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes and watch as he puts his armor on piece by piece, the same way he’s done it every morning for the last couple of days he’s been here. It must be a routine for him, you think as you watch him clip his pauldrons in place and work his way down his body; you find the whole process to be mesmerizing and you wonder if he’s been doing this every single day for nearly his entire life.

“I can feel you staring at me, cyare.”

You feel your cheeks warm up when you promptly turn your attention to the breakfast that Paz had kindly made for you, though you had insisted the previous mornings that you didn’t expect him to do this for you. Your heart warms when you remember how he had admitted that it made him happy to see you enjoy little basic necessities that you had been robbed of nearly your entire life and you stopped arguing after that.

Though it was only yogurt and fruit, you still felt like the most spoiled woman in the galaxy.

After completing your usual morning routine, along with braiding the top half of your hair around the crown of your head, you pick out your clothes for the day and scoop your needy little vulptex into the crook of your elbow, her favorite resting place, it seems.

“What am I going to do when she gets too big and I can’t carry her like this?”

Paz snorts as you wait for him to snap his gauntlets into place around his black, leather gloves, “If you didn’t spoil her so much and carry her around all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem, cyare.”

You pout a little at that, struggling not to smile when he gives your earlobe a playful tug once he’s finished with his big gauntlets, “Her leg is still sore--would you really be so heartless to make her walk around the covert?”

“She seemed to have no problem limping around until you showed up and started carrying her all over the place.”

Not having a solid rebuttal to the playful words, you simply shake your head and watch as he checks all the big pouches attached to his utility belt. Your eyes immediately land on the vibroblade sheathed at his hip and you let out a shaky sigh when you remember the Trandoshan, though Paz seems to notice the change in your attitude and shields that side of his body from you.

“C’mon cyare, we have a long day.”

Following close behind Paz, the two of you make your way out of his private quarters and down the tunnels where others are starting to trickle out of their rooms as well. You’ve come to find that with the exception of a few Mandos, the tribe tends to stick to a pretty strict routine of going to bed at a certain time and waking up earlier, though you find this to work out quite nicely for you. Whereas once you were getting two or three hours of sleep a night, along with maybe a thirty minute nap on your break, you now have the entire night to rest, even if you don’t always get the best sleep.

Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll get lost, even though you memorized the directions to your little office on the second day of being at the covert, but you allow Paz to guide you there anyways, grateful for his company when you know you won’t see him until tonight. Though you feel slightly sad upon making it to your destination, you’re somewhat anxious and eager to see what today brings you and who you might meet.

With a gentle kiss of his Beskar forehead against yours, you and the heavy-infantry warrior part ways for the day and you contentedly enter the little office that you had managed to clean up pretty well since your arrival. As you enter the little alcove, something feels off and you quickly detect the sounds of soft hums and discontented grunts.

You freeze upon finding out that you are not the only one occupying the room and your brows shoot up at the strange spectacle taking place in front of you.

In front of your desk, where you had placed a small pot of violets that you’d taken from the room Paz and Ima had decorated for you, is an unarmored Mandalorian who’s currently inspecting something you wrote down on a little notepad the previous day. Though the Mando is wearing a light grey helmet with chipped away emeral trimmings around the visor and cheeks, you think they must be one of the elders in the tribe, what with their hunched over form, wavering hands, and the long staff they wield.

You don’t miss the sharp, pointed tip of the walking stick that is made from what you’re certain is Beskar and you make sure to approach slowly, not wanting to frighten the Mandalorian, though the thought of you startling a warrior is slightly amusing to you.

They’re humming something that you can barely make out through their modulator and your lips instantly stretch into a faint grin when you realize they’re reading the little list you had started of all the Mandalorians you had met in the tribe so far, along with the colors of their armor and their names to help you memorize the people who are supposed to be your new family. You watch with curiosity as the unarmored Mandalorian grabs one of your pens from the little cup next to your notepad, leaning down to try to scribble something down, though they seem to grow frustrated with how shaky their hands are.

You decide to step in when you hear a disgruntled voice uttering curse words under their breath that you’ve never even heard Paz say before and your cheeks grow warm.

“Hello, may I help you?”

Immediately, the Mandalorian whips around with a small gasp, making you jump as well and you hastily take a few steps backwards when they turn around to face you, their hand pressed tight to where their heart must be frantically pounding, just like yours currently is. Your eyes are wide, hands nervously clutched together as the Mandalorian tilts their faded, scuffed up helmet to the side while observing you closely. Though you think they must be elderly, they stand about only one or two inches taller than you and you’re finally grateful to meet someone who isn’t terrifyingly large or as tiny as one of the younglings.

“You cannot sneak up on me like that!” He lightly admonishes in a deep, gruff voice, still holding his bare, wrinkled hand over his heart, “I am not nearly as alert as I used to be, but it doesn’t mean I can’t deal out some damage still.”

He lifts the staff to show you the pointed, steel bottom of it and you immediately nod your understanding, bowing your head a little, “Of course, I am so sorry! I wasn’t sure if you were hurt or not and I just thought…”

You bite your bottom lip nervously--what were you even thinking?

“Ah, I see,” He seems to relax then, pulling out the chair in front of your desk and sinking down into it with a pained grunt while you continue to wring your fingers together in an anxious manner, “So you must be my replacement--the nurse Paz insisted on bringing to the tribe.”

Maker, did your Mandalorian actually tell the entire damn tribe about you?

Your leg bounces as soon as you take a seat at the end of the medical cot and you brush a few unruly hairs from your forehead before speaking to the elderly man, “I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a replacement, sir. I’m sure I could never be as good of a medic as you are for your people. I’m just here to help out as much as I can.”

He chuckles and shakes his helmet at your humbled statement, propping his steel cane against his thigh and you feel a twinge of sadness deep within your soul as he stares down at his trembling hands. You notice his right hand is trembling more than the left and you think that must be his dominant hand--the one he would typically use for certain medical procedures--and you remember what Paz had mentioned about the tribe’s medic growing too ill and shaky to actually help others.

‘No wonder why the office was so dusty and everything was unused,’ you think to yourself sorrowfully, your eyes taking in all the big dents and scuff marks on his gray and crimson helmet.

“Hey, don’t give me those sad eyes, little one,” He admonishes you again and though you don’t remember having any kind of grandparent in your life, you think being scolded by this man must be what it feels like to have one, “I was told by Paz that you are a tough one--a warrior, just like us.”

You offer him a wry smile, “I suppose he didn’t tell you that I tend to cry quite a bit as well?”

“Oh, he definitely mentioned that,” The Mandalorian chortles and you can’t help but to grin at that, immediately feeling better at how playful he sounds, “I was hoping he was messing around with me--our people aren’t exactly the best with tears and emotions, but I suppose it is not a bad thing. During times like these, the tribe could use a little more happiness and vulnerability.”

You contemplate his words deeply, thinking of the few times Paz had informed you that because of the Empire, his people were nearly extinct and you wonder how this stranger could so easily accept you into the tribe without really knowing you. Seeing how worn out and damaged his dented helmet is, you can’t help but to wonder what he’s been through and though he seems to be more of an eccentric member of the tribe, you’re certain he’s been through hell and back.

“If you do not mind me asking--” You offer him a fond gaze, your smile growing when he tilts his helmet dramatically to the side, his Beskar cheek nearly touching his shoulder, “May I have your name? I am trying to learn who everyone is, but the visors are all the same and sometimes the color of armor is similar and--”

“I get it,” The older man sounds like he’s amused and you briefly wonder if he was once an outsider like you, though you find it rude to ask, “I was about to write it in your little notebook, but I fear my hands are too unsteady for you to understand my writing, little one.”

You perk up and quickly stand up, making your way over to where he’s sitting before you crouch down in front of your desk and grab one of the several pens in the little cup near your notebook. The Mandalorian makes a funny noise as you give him an inquisitive glance, wordlessly asking for his name with a quirk of your brow and though he wears a typical Mandalorian helmet, you think he must be grinning underneath his Beskar guise.

“Ezir Ralas.”

You somehow manage to write down his name as fast as he spells it out for you and you grin at how demanding he sounds upon spelling every single letter out and how he describes the exact colors of his faded helmet. There’s something about his lighthearted tone that makes you think he’s not as intimidating as every other warrior you’ve encountered since being brought to the covert.

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, sir,” You beam at him as you make your way back to the medical cot to sit on while you wait for your first patient of the day, “Have you been the tribe’s nurse for very long?”

He chuckles again, long fingers curling against his knees, “Oh yes, I’ve been with the tribe since we were forced into hiding years ago. Before all of this, however, I was a field medic for my people on Mandalore, back during our civil war.”

“Oh, I um, I had no idea there was a civil war,” You frown at this new information, briefly wondering if Paz knows about this, though you think he must, “That must have been so scary to be out there on a battlefield, trying to save your own people.”

He lets out a small grunt as he leans forward to rest his forearms atop his thighs, “Even though I am a medic, I was also born and raised a fighter, little one. Though the things I have seen haunt me at night when I cannot sleep, I would not so willingly admit that I was ever afraid.”

You slowly nod and gaze down at the steel pendant that hangs between his collarbones and you recognize it as the one you often see around the covert, or in the morning when Paz tucks his own into the collar of his tunic. Seeming to recognize your curiosity towards the skull sigil, he unties the knot at his nape and holds out the necklace for you to inspect up close.

With great eagerness, you reach forward to accept the kind gesture, “Is it rude of me to ask what this is?”

“It is not rude,” Ezir sounds amused by your curiosity and your cheeks grow warm as you trace over the sharp horns protruding from the cheeks of the skull with your thumbs, “It is the skull of a beast that was once native to Mandalore--the mythosaur. They were these enormous monsters with teeth and horns sharper than a sword made of Beskar and when they tried to attack my ancestors, we either slayed them or conquered them and rode them as transportation.”

“How big were they?”

“Massive,” He flippantly waves a hand in the air, appearing far too nonchalant while speaking of terrifying beasts, “Well, I would imagine they’re the size of the village currently above us, little one.”

Your eyes grow wide and a chuckle escapes past his modulator at how incredulous you sound, “And you’re ancestors fought them?”

“Without hesitation,” He informs you and though the image of a monster so fearsome and enormous terrifies you, it also fills you with feelings of reverence and awe, “After the beasts went extinct, the mythosaur skull became a symbol of our people and all that we had overcome; it is a symbol of our history and culture.”

You hum quietly, barely noticing the way his tilted visor is trained on the way you tenderly trace all the curves and divots of the pendant with admiration, a smile tugging at your lips as you think of the symbolism behind the sigil. Suddenly, you understand why people have always murmured terrifying rumors of the Beskar-clad enigmas and you think it must be true that they’re the strongest warriors in the galaxy. You wonder what it must feel like to exude such power to the point where people fear you without even knowing who you are and though you still regret feeling so much terror upon initially meeting Paz, you’re suddenly grateful that you’d eventually let him into your heart.

“Perhaps one day, you will have one of your own,” Ezir concedes and your head snaps up to peer at him with shock; you hand the pendant back out for him to take, feeling undeserving to be holding something so precious to his people, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You may not wear our helmet or armor, but once I teach you some Mando’a and get a weapon in your hand, you’ll be a fearsome warrior.”

You think of what Paz had mentioned about the others in the tribe teaching you Mando’a, and while you’ve only known him for a few minutes, he seems to be a respectful man, albeit a little quirky.

“What does riduur mean?” You blurt out, your skin instantly growing warm when you see Ezir’s shoulders shaking as he laughs at the innocent question; suddenly, you fear that everyone has been saying something demeaning about you, “I just... everyone in the tribe keeps calling me ‘Paz’s riduur’ and I--it’s not an insult, right? They’re always laughing when they say it.”

He shakes his head as his laughter eventually ceases, “No, little one, it is quite the opposite of an insult, but rather a term of endearment. I do not think it is my place to tell you what it means and I am not sure if Paz has the guts to actually tell you, but I can say that I am certain you will find out for yourself one day when he calls you that himself.”

Your leg bounces anxiously as you watch him situate his mythosaur pendant between his collarbones and as you think of all the meanings that the word possibly possesses, one stands out to you the most.

“Is it something I would be allowed to say to him as well in the future?”

“Yes,” He reaches down to pet your vulptex that’s awkwardly making her way towards his boots, sounding utterly entertained by your inquiry, “Though I cannot promise you that his brain wouldn’t combust if he heard you call him that.”

“Then perhaps I would call him that as payback for all the times he’s teased me about certain things.”

Ezir guffaws at that, remaining diligent in petting the lazy vulptex that’s headbutting his calf in a needy manner, “I like you, little one. I almost didn’t believe Ima when she told me you had stopped the fight between Din and Paz, let alone when she informed me that you had stood up for yourself and the bounty hunter.”

You watch as the older man awkwardly scoops the little vulptex into his arms and you’re grateful that not many seem to mind her presence in the covert, as you’re not sure what you would have done had you been forced to get rid of her.

“I have been belittled by men all my life,” You shyly admit, staring at the little creature that’s reaching up in an attempt to bite his pendant, though Ezir doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest as you continue, “And for the longest time, I just learned to keep my mouth shut and deal with it because that’s just the way I was raised, I suppose. These last couple of days have taught me that it does not make me a bad person for only wanting to be treated with respect and my only regret is that I did not realize this sooner in life. Perhaps I’d be a stronger woman if I had realized my worth at a younger age.”

No longer is Ezir petting the vulptex, but instead, he now has his visor trained on you and in return, you offer him a small smile. He remains deathly silent for at least a minute before giving you a curt nod, as though he approves of either you or just your declaration in general.

“In our language, we have a word that I think perfectly describes you, little one,” His gruff, filtered voice drops to something softer as he watches you perk up with curiosity, “Ramikadyc--it means that you have the tenacity and determination of a Mandalorian, that you have our mindset.”

Your heart instantly swells with gratitude and you shyly cross your ankles together as you wring your fingers together on top of your lap, “I would hardly compare myself to your people. I do not think I would have the tenacity or determination to fight against one of those mythosaurs that your ancestors slayed.”

“Something tells me you and I are not too different,” Ezir informs you with what you think is mirth laced within his deep voice, “I do not think you would hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way if it meant protecting someone you care for or someone you do not wish to see to get hurt.”

You smile softly and give him a slight nod as you think of the bounty hunter that you had stood up for, despite him not deserving it, or even your little vulptex that you had taken a blaster shot for. If Ezir truly thinks that you have the heart of a warrior, then he must be saying it for a good reason and his words, along with Ima’s and Paz’s confidence in you, fills you with a little more hope in regards to your future with the tribe.

“Will you tell me more about you?”

“I am afraid my stories might bore you to the point of insanity,” Ezir chuckles, shifting in his seat a little so he can hold your vulptex in a more comfortable position, “But since you seem so curious, what is it you wish to know, little one?”

“Can you tell me more about Mandalore and the civil--?”

Before you can finish, a deep baritone from the entrance of your office interrupts your inquiry and both you and Ezir immediately turn around to find your blue Mandalorian standing tall behind another unarmored Mando, though this one is still taller than you and Ezir. The smaller Mando is holding their wrist protectively against their chest and it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the warrior as one of the younger ones that seems to have a knack for constantly getting hurt during training.

“Saviin’ika,” Paz greets politely with a slight nod, cocking his helmet to the side upon noticing who’s been keeping you company in the short amount of time you two have been apart, “Ezir.”

You raise your brows at the way your warrior tenses up a little upon seeing the elderly man, though you manage to get in a word before any of the Mandalorians can say anything, your attention focused on the injured boy.

“Is your wrist hurt?”

The unarmored Mando peers up at Paz with what you think must be a wary expression through his visor--something that your warrior immediately picks up on. With absolutely no hesitation, the heavy-infantry warrior murmurs something to the younger Mando in his native tongue and you raise your head with anticipation and a kind smile. As though that’s all the confirmation of the young teenager--Vhan--needs, he nods a little and you slide off the end of the cot so your first patient of the day can sit down.

You give the boy a small, encouraging smile as he takes his glove off and pushes up his sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist, “What happened?”

“It was my fault,” Paz says immediately, making you raise your brows in surprise at the thought of him somehow hurting someone so young, “He was sparring with his brother and I looked away for a minute. He fell and landed right on his wrist.”

You frown a little at the guilt in his voice, though judging by the exasperated sigh that wafts past Vhan’s modulator, you think this must be a common occurrence amongst the younger ones who get hurt on Paz’s watch.

“Well, it’s hard to tell for sure without x-rays,” You manage to rotate Vhan’s wrist in the slightest, a gesture that seems to cause minimal pain to the boy, “But it looks like it’s just a minor sprain, since there seems to be no crooked bones and you can still move it around a little. Nothing too serious and nothing to feel bad about.”

Paz lets out a relieved huff at the news, though you know your blue warrior enough to know he’s not going to let the guilt down so easily, especially not when it pertains to one of the younger members of the tribe. A knowing grin stretches your lips when Vhan groans, and now you’re certain this isn’t the first time Paz has been worried like a mother hen over the clumsy teen. Though the blue warrior has quite the reputation among all the adults in the covert, it seems he also has a completely different persona when he’s with the younger ones.

“See? I told you it’s fine. Can I go back to training now?” Vhan insists, moving to hop off of the cot, though you are quicker to stop him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Uh uh,” You shake your head, earning another groan from the teen and what you’re sure are surprised expressions from the two other men occupying the room, “Just because it’s a sprain doesn’t mean you can go running off just to damage it even further. You should at least rest it for forty-eight hours and put some ice on it every thirty minutes for two hours until the pain goes away. Also try to keep it elevated as much as possible.”

“That’s so much work for a little sprain though!” Vhan argues and you let out a soft sigh as you begin to compress his wrist with a thick bandage, “Can’t I just--”

“Hey!” Ezir suddenly sounds annoyed, and you’re surprised when the boy tenses up a little, just as Paz had earlier, and something about their reactions has you growing even more curious to what kind of reputation the elder has among his family, “Listen to the nurse, di’kut. She only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yes sir,” Vhan mumbles, though you can tell he’s still not happy about it when he turns his visor to you, “S-Sorry, Saviin’ika.”

You blink your surprise at him calling you the familiar nickname, but eventually you give him a kind smile and stand up to retrieve your roll of ice wraps, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure it must be difficult for you to miss out on training, but it really is for your own good. I don’t have the resources here to fix your wrist if it was seriously broken, so it’s detrimental to make sure that the sprain heals properly before doing any serious training again. Perhaps there is… um, maybe something else you can do in the meantime that’s not too strenuous?”

He perks up a little and hope instantly flares in your chest as he gives you an eager nod before turning to look at Paz, “You told me the other day that you would show me how to take apart an assault rifle and put it back together--would that be okay?”

Paz glances at you and the boy’s eager tone makes it hard for you to say no, so you give your warrior a reluctant nod as you finish tying the ice wrap around his swollen wrist, “Just as long as you make sure to not move your wrist around too much and keep the ice wrap on, okay?”

“Alright!” He’s instantly hopping off the cot and you chuckle at his newfound excitement, “Thanks vod’ika!”

You huff a little, opening your mouth to stubbornly remind him that you’re far older than him, though he cuts you off with a quick headbutt to your forehead; while it’s not too harsh of a harsh gesture, it’s certainly not as gentle as all the times Paz has performed the same action. You rub your tender forehead as Paz turns to the side a little so Vhan can make his way, presumably, to the armory. Paz shakes his helmet in an exasperated manner as he steps toward you, most likely to get a look at your forehead, but Ezir’s small grunts as he slowly stands up has your full attention.

Instinctively, you move to help the elder up from your office chair, noticing his slight struggle to stand and you force yourself not to cringe at the numerous pops and cracks coming from his knees and back. After a lifetime of fighting and being a medic, you’re certain it’s taken a toll on him, though he simply chuckles a little and pats your back as you both make your way over to Paz.

“I suppose I should take this as my sign to leave you to your duties for the day, verd’ika,” You beam at the new nickname as he carefully grabs onto your elbow for better balance while you lead him to the entrance where Paz is still standing with a cocked helmet, “I’ll have to look for my old medical books and datapads for you to read.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness and warmth instantly blankets your heart at his consideration, gratitude filling your soul when you realize that he seems to approve of you being the tribe’s new nurse, “I would love that very much, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“Of course not,” He gives your hand a little pat before latching onto a grumpy Paz’s elbow instead, “I’ll just make this one help me later since he can reach the higher shelves.”

“I have other things to--”

Jutting a thumb out in your direction over his shoulder, Ezir sends a rough little whack! of his walking stick to Paz’s armored shin, “It is good she is here with the tribe now--perhaps she can teach you and everyone else some manners, you big brute.”

“Yeah, ori kebiin,” You giggle in a teasing manner, earning a small grunt from the blue warrior, “Would it really kill you to learn a few manners?”

Ezir lets out a loud laugh that has Paz shaking his helmet at you, and though you know you’ll soon regret it, you think it’s worth the delightful torment he’ll inflict on you later when the two of you are alone. Without another word, Paz reaches out to give your nape a tender squeeze before leaving you alone to your thoughts in your little office, though you think that seeing Ezir and helping Vhan has already given you a bright start to your day.

With a faint smile stretched along your lips, you add a few comments to your little notepad and take inventory of the supplies you have and what you need for the next time Paz goes on a supply run. For the most part, the day goes by slowly and uneventfully--something you are actually grateful for, what with being so used to the chaos that came as a result of working in a village full of crime and those with cruel hearts.

Needless to say, you don’t mind a calm day in the slightest and when Ima passes your office hours later to politely inform you that training and sparring lessons are done for the day, you’re grateful that no serious injuries were sustained. Packing up your things and making sure your office is in order, you turn off the lights and exit your office, eager to explore the covert a little more and go to the room that Paz and Ima had decorated for you.

After conversing with a few of the Mandalorians you had befriended in the short amount of time you’ve been at the covert, you happily make your way down the stairs that you know leads to everyone’s private quarters, as well as the nursery and your little flower alcove.

You hum a mindless tune to yourself as you stroll down the long tunnel, smiling when the atmosphere gets a little warmer when you pass the shielded alcove that leads into the nursery; your walking slows a little and you’re half tempted to go inside and say hi to the little ones, though you don’t want to cause any chaos again, especially so late in the day. Reluctantly, you continue past the nursery and make your way to the little room Paz and Ima had decorated with your flowers, your vulptex resting comfortably in your arms as you two seek out relaxation.

“I need to think of a name for you, little one,” You murmur, earning a soft gaze from her, crimson eyes slowly blinking up at you, “Maybe I should ask one of the younglings to come up with one. They must be far more creative than me.”

She simply answers you with a dramatic huff as you continue down the path that Paz had already taken you down a few times.

You’re completely oblivious to the little footsteps following you far behind.

Finally, you make it to your beloved sanctuary and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing all your growing flowers and the lights that hang above them. Placing your little vulptex on the center of the desk where you had placed a little pillow for her, you dutifully water the plants and flowers that look like they need it the most. It’s comforting to have a little place of your own, especially after dealing with so many of the boisterous warriors all day and while you feel as though you’re slowly getting used to their antics, you realize you truly had no idea what you were getting yourself into upon agreeing to be the tribe’s nurse.

A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips as you feel the tiniest ache in your temple where the younger Mandalorian had headbutted his gratitude a little too roughly earlier, though warmth fills your heart when you remember how he had referred to you as his sister.

You’re in the middle of checking on your little violets when your vulptex raises her head in a jolting manner; immediately, you turn around, expecting Paz or perhaps Ima needing you to tend to someone’s wound.

It is neither one of them, you realize with surprise.

You let out a little gasp upon seeing a pair of wide, fearful eyes poking from the tiny crack between the curtains and the doorway and you instantly recognize the sad, golden brown orbs from days ago in the nursery.

“Oh, it’s okay, little one!” You give him a warm smile that instantly seems to allay some of the despair in his big eyes, “You may come in, if you’d like.”

Hesitantly, he makes his way into the unfamiliar room, looking like a lost animal that’s experiencing a new environment for the first time and you think you know the feeling all too well; even after spending a few days at the covert, you still feel quite lost and you can’t possibly imagine what this child is going through.

You blink your surprise when he gets halfway across the room before spotting your lazy vulptex who is still curled up on your desk, staring at the boy curiously, though not unkindly in the slightest. Carefully, you make your way closer to the little who simply stares up at you with wide starry eyes, his hands clasped together politely in front of him and your heart melts at how nervous and scared he seems.

“It’s okay, little one,” You reassure him in a calm, hushed tone, reaching your hand out for him to take, “She loves younglings very much and would never hurt you, I promise.”

The curly-haired boy shifts his gaze between you and your rocky companion before ultimate latching onto your hand with his. Cautiously and without any force, you guide him closer to your desk where the vulptex is still observing the little boy with gentle eyes; you think that on top of being intelligent, her species must also be quite empathetic and can differentiate a kind soul from a dark one.

“Is it okay if I pick you up?” You question the boy softly, earning you a shy nod as an answer, and you carefully haul him up to the chair in front of your desk, keeping a hand pressed to the back of his shoulders to keep him steady, should he stumble, “If you want to hold your hand out to sniff it, it’ll be a sign that you want to be her friend.”

His eyes widen a little more and you can’t help but to grin as he holds a shaking hand out for the rocky vulpine to sniff eagerly, his other hand pressed shyly to his cheek in anticipation. A tiny, childish giggle meets your ears and warms your heart as the vulptex licks his palm, though he is quick to pull his damp hand back and wipe it on his beige tunic with a scrunched up expression. When he smiles up at you, you’re certain your heart is going to melt into a big puddle of goo in the pit of your stomach and you offer him one in return, smoothing his dark, unruly curls away from his forehead.

“See? She knows you’re brave and likes you now.”

He gives you a toothy grin and you feel a lovely warmth in your soul knowing that you were able to provide some emotional reprieve for the sweet child.

“Did you sneak away from the nursery, little one?” You ask him gently, not wanting him to think you’re upset with him at all; he simply drops his head in shame and you continue to stroke his curls in an attempt to comfort him, “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble, I promise. I just want to know why.”

For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer as he keeps his head lowered, but then he eventually peers up at you and whispers his response in a tiny, meek voice.

“Y-You were singing,” He explains quietly, and you realize he must have heard you humming and followed you all the way here, “‘M sorry.”

“Hey, no, none of that,” You crouch down in front of him so he’s taller than you while he stands on your chair and you give him a kind smile, “It’s okay, but how about next time you just ask the caretaker on duty, alright? They’ll come find me, wherever I may be.”

He gives you a shy nod, seeming thoughtful for a few moments as he presses a chubby index finger to his pouting lips, “Do I have to go back?”

You should say yes and you know it, but his eyes are all but pleading with you to say no and he looks so hopeful that you’ll let him keep you company. You think he must feel just as out of place as you do, not knowing who to talk to or who to trust, though you seem to be the one person he finds solace in.

How could you destroy that tiny amount of trust he already has in you?

You give him a tiny smile and shake your head, “You may stay for a little while, but I fear I do not make for the most exciting company, little one.”

The boy doesn’t say anything to that and you blink your surprise when he reaches out to clumsily touch the thick braid wrapped around your crown, along with the few flowers that you had strategically placed throughout the weaves that morning when Paz had been watching you. He seems curious by the vibrant flora, his eyes blinking and flickering with awe and you bow your head a little so he can get a better look at them.

“Do you like flowers?” You ask him quietly when he eventually ceases his exploration, and you look up to see him giving you a shy little nod, “What’s your favorite kind?”

You expect him to not know many, especially if he’s spent his few years of life on Nevarro, though he surprises you when he speaks in a barely there whisper, “I like roses--like the ones my ‘gramma used to paint.”

You’re desperately inclined to ask more about his grandmother--if he had any parents and what planet he had been saved from, but if he’s the covert’s newest foundling, the wounds on his heart and mind must still be so fresh and you do not wish to infect it further with your invasive questions. Instead, you force yourself to give him a warm, big smile and somehow manage to keep the tears out of your eyes when his chubby fingers find the little blue flower that Paz had tucked behind your ear earlier in the morning.

“Yeah? I bet they were beautiful,” You grin and he gives you a fervent little nod to confirm your thoughts, “What color roses did she paint?”

And what you thought was only going to be a ten or twenty minute interaction with the boy ends up to be more than an hour and a half long meeting where the two of you talk about harmless topics like flowers, favorite animals, different types of stars and constellations. Though for once, you do most of the talking and you are more than satisfied to describe the beautiful hot springs and caves that Paz had taken you to, sparing all the mushy details that you knew would probably gross out a child.

“He’s scary,” The boy murmurs as you tell him of the story, at least the clean version, of how Paz had stood up for you the night you first found your vulptex, “They all are--they don’t smile.”

“Well of course they do,” You inform the little one, curling a finger against his cheek and earning a tiny giggle, “Everyone smiles, you just can’t see it because they wear their helmets to honor their creed. It does not mean they are robots or incapable of feeling the same emotions we do.”

He’s perched on one of your thighs, seeming comfortable as he softly pets the sleeping vulptex and you smile down at him sympathetically upon realizing he’s still apprehensive of the armored warriors, “I was scared of Paz at first too, but he turned out to be one of the kindest, most honorable men I have ever met. These people are not cruel, but I understand why you are afraid, little one. I have only been here for three days and I am still learning how to fit in as well. Perhaps we can figure this out together.”

He gives you another toothy grin and nods, seeming comforted by your words as he leans back into you and your heart aches at the trust he shows in you; a part of you wonders if it’s because he can actually see your face. You’re not entirely sure of what to say as he continues to pet the sleepy animal, smiling whenever he hears the soft squeaks that the vulptex lets out every now and then.

“Do you have a name little one?” You ask kindly--tenderly--hoping that the question won’t overwhelm him as he tilts his head to stare up at you.

You truly don’t think he’s going to answer you, but then after a few moments of silence, he lowers his head a little, not looking you in the eyes.

“Odisian.”

“Odisian... what a lovely name,” You repeat it with a grin, earning a shy smile from him, “Is it okay if I call you Odi? Or do you prefer your full name?”

Suddenly, he beams up at you and kicks his legs a little, as if having a nickname makes him feel more at home, “I like Odi!”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how big you’re smiling at him and you nod, deciding it’s best not to dwell too much on his own name or what nicknames he might have had before being brought to the covert. You straighten your spine a little and reach out to pet your little vulptex who keens under all the adoration and attention she’s suddenly receiving from you and the little one.

“Would you like to pick out a name for her?” You ask him softly, tilting your head to the side when he gives you an expression filled with awe and wonder, like he can’t believe you are asking him to do such a thing, “She needs one and I do not think I am creative enough to bestow her with such an honor.”

Odi swings his legs nervously and you can’t help but to grin as he seems to seriously contemplate this huge decision, his tiny hand squeezing his cheeks together in great concentration. You remain patient with him as he turns his head a little to stare at all the flowers on your desk and the colorful vines that are draping off the edge of the shelves attached to the wall with admiration.

“Rosie?”

He says it more as a question, like he’s nervous for your response, so you offer him a warm grin when you realize this sweet child wants to name your vulptex after his own favorite flower. You wonder if he somehow knows just how much your flowers mean to you, just as Paz does, or if the flower simply has some sort of deeper meaning to him and you playfully ruffle his curls, earning you a little giggle from him.

“That is far more lovely of a name than I could ever come up for her,” You inform him, your cheeks hurting from how big of a smile you’re wearing on your face and he perks up at your reassurance, no longer seeming quite as nervous, “Her eyes are red like roses too! Is red your favorite color?”

“I like yellow,” He bashfully admits, and you nearly chuckle at the way he pronounces his ‘L’s as ‘W’s, “It is a happy color.”

You agree with him as you begin to collect some flowers for the little boy, though a part of you lamely thinks he probably doesn’t even want them. You’re in the process of pointing out all the different flowers that Paz and Ima had been so kind to plant for you in anticipation of your arrival when the drapes to your alcove shuffle to the side a little.

You’re completely unaware of how long your blue warrior is standing in the entryway, simply observing you and the little one perched contently on top of your leg who seems utterly interested in what you have to tell him about the healing properties of violets and lavender.

“Oh! And then this one right here, if you just grind it up and add it into--”

“Cyare.”

Immediately, you and Odi both turn to face where Paz is standing just feet away in front of the rounded entrance, though the little one in your arms is quick to lower his head in fear of the massive warrior. Wanting the youngling to feel more comfortable, you simply smile up at Paz, who suddenly seems frozen to his spot as he stares at you with a cocked helmet, his shoulders tense as his pauldrons inch closer to the bottom of his helmet.

“Is something wrong, Paz?”

“No, it’s just--” His helmet slightly jolts to the side and he’s acting odd as you gently heave Odi off of your lap, offering him the little bundle of flowers so he won’t feel so lonely without you by his side, “It is time for the younglings to sleep and the caretaker on duty got scared because he was missing. I thought you might know where he is and it seems as though I was right.”

Odi is staring up at you with the saddest expression, as though he’s pleading with you to not return him back to the nursery and you gently cup the back of his curls, giving him a kind smile in return. Nervously, he fiddles with his hands as you stand up, easily scooping your vulptex into the crook of your elbow, all while the little one stares up at Paz with the most frightened expression you’ve ever witnessed, hiding behind your leg.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere and you’re more than welcome to visit me anytime,” You offer him a reassuring smile as he gazes down at the little bouquet of flowers and he is quick to grab your outstretched hand with an eager expression, “C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Besides, he likes flowers too--I bet he would like it if you gave him one.”

You say the last sentence in a low whisper, as though you’re sharing some sort of gossip with him and you instantly notice the way he perks up as Paz holds the drapes to the side for you, his helmet still tilted to the side as he observes you two. Odi is still quiet and thoughtful as he stares down at the little bundle of colorful flowers you had gifted him, all while holding your hand as Paz slowly leads you through the dim tunnels.

Shyly, the child gazes up at Paz and warmth blooms in your heart and soul when he lowers his helmet to regard Odi with what you’re certain is the utmost kindness, most likely wanting nothing more than to earn the boy’s trust. Without saying anything, the little one holds up the colorful bouquet of flowers for Paz to see and you grin at the adorable interaction.

"Those are... pretty,” Paz comments in a softer voice and you can tell he’s trying to appear as placid as possible to the nervous boy, “Which one is your favorite?”

Odi lets go of your hand to press his index finger to his bottom lip in severe contemplation and you nearly chuckle at what must be a cute little habit that he does unknowingly when he’s thinking too hard. After a moment’s consideration, he points a chubby finger at one of the many violets that you had tucked in the center and you instantly grin.

“Those are my favorite too,” Paz says quietly, and you’re too focused on the way Odi is smiling down at the little bouquet to notice the Mandalorian’s visor trained on your face.

Odi seems conflicted as he gently tugs one of the violets from the middle of the colorful bundle and offers it to the huge warrior with a hopeful gaze, not saying a word throughout the entire exchange.

“What an honor,” Paz sounds like he's grinning as he accepts the little flower and Odi immediately seeks out your hand again, “Thank you.”

The youngling peers up at you with a cheerful glimmer in his eye, as though he’s proud of himself for showing such bravery and selflessness in the presence of a powerful warrior. Once you offer him a knowing smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand, Odi turns to gaze down at his colorful bouquet with a tiny grin on his face.

Content upon realizing the little one no longer seems sad or fearful, you tilt your head up to beam happily at Paz, your heart still full of love and admiration towards both him and Odi; immediately the warrior lifts his hand to tenderly stroke your cheek. The cold bite of leather nearly makes you flinch and suddenly you’re remorseful that both of your hands are occupied by your littlest companions as you now long to touch the lighter blue in the hollows of his cheeks.

It’s not until you make it back to the nursery that Odi’s smile drops and his lips form into a little pout. Paz presses his gloved hand to the small of your back to guide you further into the nursery and through a short tunnel leading the four of you to where the younglings must sleep and take their naps.

“Hey,” You whisper after the four of you enter a dimly lit room with several beds lined up; you notice the tiny lumps curled up underneath the fuzzy blankets and smile as you crouch down in front of Odi, “Remember what I said, okay? You ever want to come see me, just ask one of the caretakers. I’ll always be here for you.”

He nods, and before you can even think about standing up, he steps forward to wrap his tiny arms around your neck and you’re quick to return the sweet gesture, your free hand coming up to gently cup the back of his head. You feel his chubby fingers curl into the hair you had left unbraided that morning and smile when he holds onto you a little tighter; you can tell he’s still afraid of you leaving as an idea pops into your head.

“Since Rosie seems to like you so much, why don’t I leave her here with you for the night?” Immediately, he pulls away from you, his starry eyes wide and filled with disbelief as you gently shuffle the lazy vulpine into his awaiting arms, “She may be small, but she’s a fierce little thing that will protect you from any nightmares you may have, I promise.”

He holds the animal closer to his chest, grinning when she lifts her head to lick at his cheek and Odi instantly giggles in response. He gives you one last shy smile before making his way to his little bed and you stand up to your full height as you watch him shuffle underneath his blankets, all while holding Rosie close to his chest. It’s not until you watch his eyes close that you let out a deep exhale and you wonder when you had stopped breathing; tears nearly escape your eyes when you watch Rosie curl herself closer to the child, head tucked underneath his chin as he smiles sleepily.

“Ner cyare,” Paz whispers and you jump a little, nearly forgetting that he had been standing there this whole time; you turn to face him and you give him a questioning look when he threads his fingers through the valleys between yours, “There is something I want to show you.”

You think when he says ‘something’, he most likely means ‘someone’, and your heart thrums wildly in anticipation as he leads you away from the younglings’ sleeping quarters. The alcove he’s leading you to is the one he had popped out of a few days ago after you confronted him after the fight, you realize, and you wonder what could possibly be in the room that he seems so excited to show you.

You blink owlishly at him as he politely holds the drapes to the side for you and you hesitantly enter the warm room; instantly, another Mandalorian with black and yellow armor turns to face you and Paz. Before you can offer the stranger an affable greeting, a soft whimper cuts you off and your heart instantly freezes over when you spot a wooden crib in the corner of the dim room.

An infant…

There is an infant in the covert and the thought simultaneously terrifies you and breaks your heart.

Paz quietly says something in his mother tongue when the caretaker on duty tenses as you step forward to try to get a better look at the distressed infant, your heart now pounding so wildly that you hear it in your ears. Whatever Paz said to the caretaker immediately seems to calm them down and they simply watch as you observe the fussy baby that is kicking its little feet wildly and growing even more distressed. The infant is wearing tiny white socks and a long, dark brown tunic that falls to her ankles; her little head is adorned with a white beanie, but you see dark tufts of hair poking out from underneath.

“I… I cannot get her to stop crying,” The Mandalorian’s deep, filtered voice is coated with exhaustion and despite the tears burning your eyes, you fixate your attention on the defeated Mando, the vibrancy of the yellow stripes painted on his black armor nearly hurting your eyes, “What am I doing wrong?”

You wonder if he’s ever had to take care of an infant before, but judging by the way the black and yellow Mando shuffles around nervously makes you think it is not all too common of an occurrence in the tribe.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, shaking off your fears and insecurities as you remind yourself that you were brought here to take care of others, “O-Okay, how old is she?”

“I only found her a few weeks ago, cyare,” Paz informs you quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby even more, and you turn around to gaze up at him with wide, watery eyes; he must see the confusion etched on your features because he immediately explains himself, “I was walking back from seeing you one night and found her abandoned behind one of the vendors in the marketplace. I can’t… I can’t imagine what kind of monster does such a thing.”

You know all too well of the monsters that are capable of leaving a helpless creature behind to die, most likely feeling no guilt when they close their eyes at night.

You nod again and let out a shaky exhale as the caretaker turns his body to the side and allows you to lean over the crib, your chest aching something fierce as you carefully scoop up the tiny creature into your arms. Instantly, she lets out with a piercing, shrill scream and you heave a small sigh at how fussy of a little thing she is, though you think you already know what her problem is.

“What are you--?”

The strange Mandalorian jolts forward a little as you shuffle the crying baby around in your arms until her chest and stomach is resting against the inside of your forearm, her arms and chubby legs dangling lazily around in the air and her cheek tucked against the crook of your elbow. It takes a few moments of tenderly stroking her back to get her cries to soften into something less ear shattering, and you let out a relieved sigh when her whimpers turn into little coos and grunts.

“I think she might be colic,” You inform the caretaker with a shaky whisper, his helmet tilted to the side with what you think is either curiosity or shock as she dribbles, “I’ve uh, I’ve seen this before and read about it. Are you making sure to burp her after each feeding? Or perhaps she should be using a different formula if she has a sensitive tummy?”

“I--” He drops his helmet a little, staring at the cooing infant that you’re bouncing a little, “She wasn’t spitting anything up and I just thought… I wasn’t sure how to do it, how to burp her.”

You give the black and yellow Mando a sympathetic expression and nod, your eyes still burning with tears, “Babies can be pretty fussy sometimes, but once you find out how they like to be held and handled, it makes things a little bit easier. This tends to be a good trick at calming a lot of babies, but you need to make sure she gets burped after every feeding or else she’ll be really uncomfortable and even fussier than normal.”

“Thank you,” The caretaker nods his gratitude as you continue to stroke her back and you give him a weak smile in response, “Could you maybe get her to go to sleep? I should check on the others and I--”

‘Need a breather.’

He doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it in the way his deep voice drops and his shoulders fall at the mere thought of having a few moments of peace and relaxation.

He fidgets when you hesitate, though Paz places a gentle hand on your nape and he must realize that something is wrong as he squeezes the warm skin there; it’s something he only does when he’s trying to comfort you. Afraid that your voice will fail you, you offer the caretaker a jittery nod and he wastes no time in leaving the nursery that’s dedicated to this tiny infant.

You find it difficult to even look at Paz as you make your way over to the rocking chair that seems far too small for any Mandalorian and slowly sink down until you’re sitting comfortably with a cooing, sleepy baby tucked in your arms. A soft sigh escapes your lungs when you feel a little bit of drool soak through the material covering your elbow and you risk a glance at Paz when he gets down on a knee next to the rocking chair, his gloved hand moving to gently squeeze your bicep.

“What happened?” He questions as quietly as possible, warranting a tiny grunt from the irascible infant, “Why are you so sad all of a sudden?”

The way he asks such a question so softly instantly leaves you feeling painfully raw and vulnerable and you are quick to shoulder away a tear before he can wipe it away for you; you shake your head viciously, “It’s nothing.”

“Cyare--”

“I will explain later.”

The Mandalorian gives you a curt nod and retrieves a piece of cloth for you as you move the calmed baby to burp her against your shoulder. You can tell he wants to say something as you pat her between the shoulders, but he remains silent and tilts his helmet to the side upon hearing the infant gurgle and do her business against the cloth draped over your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep once she’s burped up all the air and spit from her meal and you let out a grateful sigh when you watch her eyelids slowly droop, somewhat eager to get her out of your arms and into her crib.

Once she’s comfortable in her cradle and fast asleep, you are quick to exit the little alcove, Paz hot on your heels as you practically storm past the exhausted-looking caretaker who’s sitting on a stone ledge in the main play area.

“Hey thank you for--”

You’re out of the nursery before he can fully express his gratitude to you and you hear Paz mutter something to the caretaker before rushing after you. Halfway down the tunnel leading to his private quarters, Paz catches up to you and carefully wraps his leather-clad fingers around your bicep, turning you around to face him.

“Cyare! What’s going--?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You don’t even realize you’re sobbing until you hear your own voice and Paz’s other hand comes to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting manner, “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me there was a baby and why would you make me…? I didn’t know and... Maker, she was so much like--”

Your chest is heaving, tears streaming from your cheeks like raging waterfalls and Paz gently pulls you to the side and covers you when another Mandalorian passes you two, giving you what you’re certain is a curious gaze. He cups a massive hand to the side of your neck and leans down as you continue to sob and babble incoherent pleas at him, wondering why he’d put you through this, though he truly had no idea what he had done to you.

“I-I am sorry, cyare,” He breathes, squeezing your bicep firmly with his other hand, “You seemed to love the little ones so much and I thought… I thought you would love to see the baby, but I didn’t think…” He shakes his helmet in a jolting manner as you viciously rub at your eyes and cheeks, “What happened? What did I do wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” You ignore his frantic questions as you try desperately to stop the tears escaping your eyes, along with the horrific memories from flooding your mind, “I didn’t mean to be so rude! I thought I was over it and I could forget, but seeing her...”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” He hushes you in a kind manner, shielding you from any wandering eyes that might see your tears, “Why don’t… why don’t we go back to our room and you can tell me what’s going on? That’s what you said the other day, right? That we should talk about the things we feel?”

You nod your answer, not trusting your voice in that moment, and you try your hardest to force down the massive lump in your throat.

“Will you tell me why you are so broken up over seeing the baby?”

He’s quick to pull you in close, hunching over to hold you easier and you immediately stuff your face into the crook of his neck as you give him another jittery nod, “I fear you will hate me upon hearing what I’ve done in the past--how I have failed the ones I was supposed to take care of.”

“I… I could never feel such a thing towards you,” He promises with a deep exhale, sounding just as heartbroken as he reluctantly pulls away and leads you closer to his private quarters, keeping a firm hand on the small of your back, “Whatever it is, I could never hate you, I swear.”

Your chest aches more and more the closer you get to his private quarters and once you finally make it, he’s quick to sit you down on the foot of his bed, kneeling down as he collects your hands in his leather-clad ones.

“What is haunting you, ner cyare? What makes you cry so much when you sleep?”

You pray that once you tell him, the horrific memories won’t weigh heavy on your conscience any longer.

Translations:

Ner cyare=My beloved

Mesh’la=Beautiful

Ori Kebiin=Big blue

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum=I love you (lit. I know you forever)

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Verd’ika= Little soldier

Di’kut=Idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aerynwrites @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst @anakinsittinginsand @yes-music-is-my-religion @tangledlove27 @justrunamok @peqchynero @haloangel391 @awhiskeywithawinchester @aliciaxglasgow @bonesaldente @kawaiitimecharm @karaabove @clydesducktape @misssilvertongue @heartxheat @pazvizslasgirl4ever (Please let me know if I missed you or you’d like to be taken off!!)

Author’s note: As always, thank you all so much for being as patient and kind as ever <3 I don’t know why this chapter was such a struggle for me to finish, but I’m so glad eventually managed to get all the words I wanted down lol. I was worried it might seem like there’s a lot going on in this chapter, but I just wanted more interactions with our nurse getting more settled in with the tribe and meeting others, so hopefully this chapter doesn’t seem like it’s all over the place :( Anyways I love you all and thank you so much for all the support y’all continuously give me <33

#paz vizla x you #paz vizla x reader #paz vizsla x reader #Paz vizsla x you #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #my writing #IDK WHY I'M SO NERVOUS TO POST THIS CHAPTER OML #I hope you guys enjoy it tho <3 #also now y'all know why christina and I were fighting over wearing socks to bed lmfao

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little-mad · 3 years

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The First Hunt: Chapter Two

A/N By popular demand, here's a sequel to The First Hunt! The original was meant to be a oneshot, but since people seemed to like it, and since I had more to say about the story, I figured a part two was in order. This one is a lot longer and more detailed than the first part cuz I wanted it to be more of a short story than a drabble. Hopefully you guys enjoy!

The warm glow of orange evening sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves overhead. Thomas picked his way through the untamed forest, still wondering what exactly he was doing. The First Hunt had ended a couple hours ago, and Thomas’s peers were all back in town, enjoying the festivities that came with celebrating their passage into adulthood.

Thomas didn’t know exactly what had caused him to slip out of town and make his way back to the spot where he had last seen the human girl. The town elders would probably say hunting instinct. Thomas would be lying if he said he hadn’t been...intrigued by the human’s scent. He may have even followed through and eaten the tiny thing like he was supposed to, that is, if she hadn’t been squirming desperately in his fingers and begging for her life. As good as the little human had smelled, he knew he could never bring himself to eat something he could hold a conversation with.

So if it wasn’t hunger driving Thomas, then what was it? Perhaps just simple curiosity. He mostly doubted the human would have stuck around in the same place for so long, especially after having nearly been eaten, but he found himself itching to know whether she might still be there for some reason. After all, what were the chances he’d ever meet another human again? It was just so rare for them to stray out of the safety of their lands these days. If there was a possibility she might still be there, didn’t he have to be sure?

When he caught sight of a small, shaggy shrub, Thomas knew he had managed to navigate back to the spot where he’d first discovered the human. He heard a scampering nearby and had a brief flash of hope before he saw the sound had been made by a little orange fox that was now retreating further into the woods. Thomas continued to make his way closer to the bush. He could swear he could still detect traces of her sweet scent...unless…

As he walked forward, the distinct scent only got stronger. Thomas walked past the shrub and towards a thick but gnarled tree. At first he noticed nothing, and wondered if perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, but then as he glanced down at the base of the tree, he caught sight of a small crevice.

Thomas dropped down to his knees and bent to peer inside the little nook. His eyes went wide when he saw what was inside. Pressed back as far as she could manage in the tight space, was a human, the very same human he had encountered a few hours ago.

Her wavy dark brown hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders was a frazzled mess, bits of bark catching at some of the strands. Barely perceptible beads of sweat were forming on her light brown skin, creating a slight shine to her face. Chestnut colored eyes stared back at Thomas with fear and panic.

---

Tara had made sure to wait a long while after the group of giants had left before even considering leaving her hiding place. She wasn’t willing to risk the chance that they would double back, plus she was still trying to wrap her head around the fact that she had just survived a hands on encounter with a giant.

After about fifteen minutes, Tara had finally deemed it safe enough to exit cover. She’d been just about to do so when she heard an unusual sound. The sound had unfortunately turned out to be that of a giant sized animal sniffing around. Could it have merely been a harmless squirrel? Sure. But given Tara’s luck, she had to assume it was some kind of predator that would gladly snatch up a human for a snack. And for that reason, she had remained concealed in her hidey hole, waiting for the creature to wander off someplace else.

Of course, the animal, whatever it was, had decided it was quite content to remain where it was. Tara had heard it finally give up on its sniffing after awhile and lay down on the opposite side of the tree. Hours passed, and in addition to a growing feeling of hunger in her belly, there was also a new ache developing in her body from being stuffed in such a cramped space for so long. She had just been considering making a mad dash for it and taking the chance that the animal was predatory, when she began to feel a sickeningly familiar rumbling shake the earth.

Tara’s blood went cold. Her window of escape had disappeared. The creature on the other side of the tree was now the least of her concerns. A much bigger predator was coming. If Tara’s last experience with a giant had been any indication, the giant would have no problem sniffing her out. It almost seemed like they had a nose made specifically for detecting humans.

The tremors in the ground increased in intensity as the giant came into view. Tara’s eyebrows shot up as she realized she recognized the massive being. It was the very same one who had captured her just hours earlier. Tara’s heart began to beat erratically in her chest. He had let her go...he’d told her he wouldn’t eat her. She swallowed hard. He must have changed his mind.

Tara could only watch as the young man advanced closer and closer towards her hiding spot. Then there was a rustling sound, from the animal that had been keeping her stuck. The giant’s gaze instantly snapped towards the source of the noise. Tara couldn’t see what he was looking at from where she was, but based on the disappointed look on the man’s face, she had to assume he hadn’t been impressed by whatever it was. This led Tara to a horrifying conclusion. The giant had reacted so quickly to the sound the animal had made, meaning he was looking for something, and Tara had a feeling she knew exactly what that something was.

The giant sniffed the air, an intrigued look forming on his face as he did. Tara had to bite her lip to prevent herself from releasing a whimper. He had caught her scent, it was only a matter of time before he tracked her down.

Sure enough, a few moments later, the towering being was directly in front of Tara’s now useless hiding place. His forest green eyes stared at her in surprise. Apparently he hadn’t been expecting to find her. Which was sensible. Tara should have been long gone by now. She had to mentally scoff at herself. She’d been given a miraculous second chance at life and she had somehow managed to screw it up and end up right back in the jaws of death.

It wasn’t long before the look of surprise on the giant’s face shifted into an excited smile that caused a tight feeling to form in Tara’s chest. She tried desperately to shove herself further back into the small crevice in the tree trunk, as if she’d end up magically getting absorbed into the bark.

Then, suddenly something huge came shooting towards her. Tara yelped as, for the second time that day, devastatingly massive fingers wrapped around her body. Her stomach churned as she was effortlessly pulled out of the nook and up into open air. The movement didn’t stop until she was being held directly in front of the giant’s still smiling face.

Tara wanted to yell, curse, and struggle, but she found herself momentarily frozen in place. She could see her own reflection in the shine of the giant eyes. God, did she look pathetic. The upper half of her body stuck out from the giant's fist, her arms hanging limply over the sides of his fingers. She could only imagine how pitiful she would appear to the immense creature.

After eying her for a couple agonizing moments, the giant made a sound of happy disbelief in the back of his throat before shifting his entire massive form. When the moving was finished, the young man was sitting with his back pressed against the tree and his knees bent. He held Tara slightly below eye level and a few inches away from his face.

“God, I still can’t get over how crazy small you are.” The giant spoke for the first time after finding Tara once again. His expression was filled with awe, not unlike a child that had just been presented a fascinating toy. Tara cringed at the sight of it.

“L-let me go!” She finally managed to spit out. She was still lacking the ferocity she’d possessed when she’d snapped at the giant during their last encounter, but she was hoping she would be able to build back up to it.

---

Thomas couldn’t believe his luck. He’d managed to get a hold of a human not once, but twice in the same day! He only wished he could brag about it to his friends. Of course, then he’d be forced to lie about not eating her. He supposed he could tell them the truth, but he had a feeling they wouldn’t be very receptive.

As he stared at her, wrapped up in his fist, he came to a new realization. Now that he had made himself stop viewing the human as food, he had to say, the little creature was honestly kind of adorable. She looked totally frazzled, but that almost added to the cuteness factor.

The feeling of tiny fingers lightly brushing against his skin sent shivers throughout Thomas’s body. It was insane, a creature that looked so similar to giants but was so damn tiny. “God, I still can’t get over how crazy small you are.” He remarked breathlessly, a grin on his face.

The little human, unfortunately, did not seem to share in his enthusiasm. “L-let me go!” She stuttered. A frown instantly took form on Thomas’s face. He supposed he should have expected this. He had almost eaten her the last time he held her. But he had told her he wasn’t going to do it and he’d released her afterwards. Shouldn’t she know he wasn’t going to hurt her?

“Wait...just wait, this could be a once in a lifetime chance for us to talk.” Thomas insisted. He knew so little about human culture, current human culture in particular. It was hard to learn about the species when his people ate them up if they ever ran into one. There were a few old textbooks back home, but the information was likely horribly outdated by now, not to mention potentially inaccurate considering they had been written by giants and not humans themselves. Thomas was itching to know what life was really like for the tiny creatures.

“I don’t want to talk, I want to go home.” The minuscule girl retorted, fidgeting uncomfortably in between his fingers. Taking note of this, Thomas repositioned the human so that, rather than being held in his fist, she stood in the center of his palm. His fingers were curled up behind her, creating a sort of barrier.

The feeling of the human’s tiny feet moving around on his hand was unbelievable! Thomas had known humans existed his entire life, but now that he was actually holding one, he found it mind boggling that such a petite species could even survive in the world. He knew things were more proportional for the humans on their side of the border, but still, that didn’t change the fact that they were so low on the food chain compared to so many other creatures. Even the prey animals in giant territory outclassed humans.

“Are you...not a little curious about giants?” Thomas questioned the girl, using his free hand to rub at the side of his neck.

The human gave an immediate scoff, complete with an eye roll. “What’s there to be curious about? You treat us like food, that’s all I need to know.” It seemed the spunk she’d possessed during their last meeting had returned. It was kind of impressive how someone in such a vulnerable position could respond with such moxie.

“H-hey, I didn’t eat you, did I?” Thomas shot back defensively. However, as his mind wandered back to the moment he’d held her dangling above his mouth, he couldn’t help but recall the tempting scent that had wafted off of the human. “Although...you--well you do smell pretty good…” The words leaked out almost involuntarily as he was lost in the memory.

Thomas was pulled out of his reverie by a furious gasp and the feeling of tentative steps retreating backwards on his palm. When his gaze refocused he could see the human wearing an expression of disgust mixed with fear, her little arms wrapped around her middle defensively. “Not that I’m going to eat you!” Thomas blurted out, realizing how thoughtless his words had been. “I can’t imagine eating something I can hold a conversation with.”

---

The moment the giant had mentioned how good she apparently smelled, Tara was struck with a renewed sense of fear. She hated it, being viewed as some sort of tasty meal. She couldn’t comprehend the concept. Humans ate the meat of animals, sure, but they couldn’t sniff out a cow, nor did they consider it to smell good prior to being cooked. Giants were different, more barbaric, more animalistic. And yet, they seemed as intelligent as humans. It didn’t make sense.

“Not that I’m going to eat you!” The giant insisted. She stared back at him with suspicion in her eyes. Had he really come all this way to just talk to her? “I can’t imagine eating something I can hold a conversation with.” He added. It almost gave Tara whiplash, the way the giant could go from commenting on how delicious she smelled, to noticeably cringing at the idea of eating a being with which he could verbally communicate with.

“I’m not a something, I’m a someone.” Tara corrected, folding her arms firmly over her chest.

“Right, sorry.” The giant replied sheepishly. Tara could swear she could actually see his face reddening slightly. “I guess I’m not used to this whole talking to a human thing.”

Tara gave a snort. “Understatement.” If she had to write a rulebook for giants on what not to say to humans, rule number one would be: ‘don’t talk about how delicious they may smell!’ But, if she was being honest with herself, this guy was a far cry better than what she had expected. She supposed she should count her lucky stars that she had been found by what was likely the only giant that showed any qualms about eating humans. Considering the fact that the First Hunt indeed was real, Tara could only assume the rest of the giants were totally on board with gobbling humans up.

“Ok, I deserve that.” The young giant admitted, a slight grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. He was quiet for a moment as he looked over Tara, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. And then, “I didn’t expect humans to have such sharp tongues.”

It was true that Tara’s courage, and accompanying attitude, had come back full force after her initial terror at re-encountering the giant had ebbed slightly. Of course, the fear was still present, her instincts would never allow that to go away entirely. However, she was able to keep it as background noise. That being said, she didn’t very much like the giant’s insinuation. It almost seemed as though he had expected humans to be these tiny quivering wrecks.

“I doubt you giants know much of anything about what humans are like.” Tara snipped. She had a feeling most giants didn’t bother to ask for a human’s life story before devouring them.

“Well then why not educate me?” Came the giant’s quick response. God, he seemed eager. His eyes were almost sparkling with enthusiasm. Tara couldn’t understand why he was so interested in humans. It was his own damn species’ fault that the two peoples couldn’t get along.

“What if you could bridge the gap?” A small part of her mind argued. Tara was quick to shake that thought away. There was no way having a heart to heart with one single giant was going to stop all of giantkind from being obsessed with eating humans. Besides, she needed to convince this guy to let her go. The longer she was around a giant, the higher the chances of her getting hurt became.

“Because--because every second I’m around you, my life is in danger!” Tara exclaimed. She forced herself to walk towards the front of the giant’s hand, ignoring how utterly bizarre it felt to be standing on someone’s actual palm.

A frown appeared on the young man’s face. “Come on, I already said I wasn’t going to hurt you.” He said it almost in a whine. Tara was beginning to wonder if this guy was really like a gigantic puppy. Of course, even a puppy was dangerous if it was bigger than a house.

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for it?” Tara asked with a quirked brow. “Besides, you could hurt me without evening meaning to.” What may seem like a small, inconsequential movement for the giant could be potentially catastrophic for someone Tara’s size. Too much pressure from his fingers, a misstep, a sudden jolt; they could all spell disaster for her. The giant clearly didn’t understand that. For him, there was no danger in a simple conversation. Of course there wasn’t, not for him, the one with all the control.

The man remained silent for a moment, apparently digesting Tara’s words. It was a positive sign that he was actually taking her words into consideration. “I’ll...I’ll be careful, I promise.” He vowed, earning a frustrated groan from Tara.

Ever since she was little, Tara had been a headstrong child. Her mother had even taken to referring to her as a ‘stubborn little mule’ whenever she was especially pig headed about something. But now, it seemed the mule had met her match. This giant was relentless in his pursuit to satisfy his own curiosity.

A soft breath from the giant’s mouth ruffled Tara’s hair as it blew past her. He wore a difficult to read expression on his face. It almost seemed like he was conflicted. He kept his silence for a few moments, looking off into the distance and for once freeing Tara from his persistent staring. Before she could properly relish in the feeling of not being the center of a massive being’s attention, his deep green eyes were locked back on her. “Would you at least tell me your name? Mine is Thomas.”

Tara’s eyebrows lifted slightly. She hadn’t even considered that this giant had a name. Giants had always seemed like abstract otherworldly concepts to her. Therefore, the fact that this one had a name, not to mention a seemingly mundane name like Thomas, was a little bit unexpected. “Uh, I’m Tara…” She replied, feeling rather strange doing introductions with a giant.

A bright grin broke out on Thomas’s face. He was way too excited about this. “Pleasure to meet you, Tara.”

---

Thomas found himself unable to keep his hands to himself after he and the human named Tara exchanged introductions. Her awkward body language somehow made her look even cuter! With the tip of a single finger he reached out and ruffled Tara’s already unruly head of hair. He marveled at how soft the locks felt despite how untamed they currently appeared.

The indignant squeak the little human made in response to Thomas’s touch was way too endearing for him to bear, and he was about to go back in to tap Tara lightly on the head when a sudden look of sharp fear came across her face. “Someone’s coming.” She hissed urgently, brown eyes blown wide as she stared up at Thomas.

His eyebrows furrowed and he remained silent while he tried to hear what the human had apparently picked up on. At first he heard nothing. He was just beginning to think Tara had been yanking his chain when he finally caught the sound of approaching footsteps.

Panic was quick to take a grip on Thomas as he shot up to his feet. While he had vowed not to eat Tara, he doubted whoever was coming would share the same sentiment. If another giant knew of her existence, she would be placed in extreme danger. Not to mention the fact that Thomas would have to try to explain why he, a giant, had been holding a casual conversation with a human rather than consuming them.

The footsteps were quickly growing nearer, the new giant would soon be within eyesight. Thomas looked down at Tara to see a look of terror frozen on her face. She looked up at him with desperation in her eyes, as if begging him to do something. He swallowed thickly and gave the human a small nod.

Then, using the hand Tara wasn’t currently standing on, Thomas once again grabbed the human. Swiftly he moved the hand holding Tara around to his back and shifted so he stood as close to the tree trunk as possible without squishing the delicate human he had in his grasp. It was a pretty poor hiding place, that much he knew, but without any kind of pocket or bag to drop her into, Thomas’s options had been severely limited. Although, Thomas wondered if there was even a point in attempting to hide her, any giant with a functioning nose would be able to smell her from several yards away.

A moment later the oncoming giant finally came into view. Thomas’s eyes widened as he realized who it was. The young man’s skin was slightly more tanned than Thomas’s, and his complexion paired well with his medium blond hair. He had angular facial features and a set of icy blue eyes behind a pair of round glasses. He was only a couple months older than Thomas, something he knew because the approaching giant was none other than his best friend.

“Ah ha, I thought I might find you out here.” Lane called, a grin on his lips as he made his way closer to Thomas. “Hoping you’d get a second chance at catching a human, huh?”

Lane and Thomas had been friends ever since they were little kids. It had been their interest in learning that had ultimately solidified their friendship. Thomas was constantly itching for novel, unheard of information. He wanted to discover new and exciting things before anyone else. Lane, on the other hand, was more interested in culture and tradition. He was fascinated by giant history and wanted to analyze it to no end. Within the past few years, Lane had become especially interested in studying giantkind’s history with eating humans.

It was for this reason that Thomas considered Lane to be just about the worst person to come around while he was currently trying to conceal a human. The guy was obsessed with the idea of getting to eat a human. He considered it to be a tradition that connected giants with their ancestors. After the First Hunt had ended, Thomas had been subjected to extensive complaining about the fact that no humans had been found.

Abruptly halting his progress towards Thomas, a perplexed look formed on Lane’s face. He lifted his nose into the air and gave several small sniffs. “Do you smell that?” He asked, continuing to sniff at the air.

Perhaps a bit too quickly, Thomas shook his head. “N-no, I don’t smell anything.” He claimed.

Lane shot Thomas an unconvinced look. “Oh come on, it smells amazing! I haven’t ever smelled anything like it.” He proceeded making his way over to his friend, but didn’t stop sniffing all the way there.

Thomas could feel Tara squirming uncomfortably in his hand. He didn’t know whether it was because of the way he was holding or because of Lane. To be on the safe side, he loosened his grip on her ever so slightly.

“Hey, what do you have there?” Lane questioned, finally taking his focus off of the smell to eye Thomas’s unnaturally positioned arm.

“Is it really that obvious??” Thomas thought to himself miserably. “Nothing.” He told Lane, trying to school his expression into one of casual indifference. “This is just how I’m standing.” Thomas felt a tiny smack on his knuckle. If he had to guess, Tara wasn’t very impressed with his attempt at lying.

Lane quirked an eyebrow. “Alright, then show me your hand.” He prompted.

“I don’t see why--” Before Thomas could even finish his sentence, Lane had grabbed hold of his upper arm and yanked until the hand holding Tara popped out of cover.

For a moment, Lane just stared with eyes as wide as saucers. Then, after he seemed to process what he was looking at, a sly grin slowly spread across his face. Thomas didn’t like that look one bit, especially not when it was aimed at Tara. “You actually caught one!” The blond exclaimed.

Thomas released a low sigh as he moved his arm so that Tara was once again held in front of his body. Rather than return her to her previous position of standing freely on his palm, Thomas kept her gripped in a fist. With Lane now present, it just felt safer.

Although a couple inches shorter than Thomas, Lane still had to bend to get himself at level to where Tara was being held at chest height. He moved his face in close to the human, wearing an expression of exhilarated amazement. “The stories are right, they really are bite sized.” He commented. Thomas could see Tara cringe back at the words. The poor girl’s heartbeat was going crazy, he could feel it pounding against his fingers.

Both Thomas and Tara appeared relieved when Lane straightened and backed up slightly. “Hey, why were you hiding it?” Lane’s gaze flicked from Tara up to Thomas’s face. “What, were you afraid I was going to try and steal your catch?”

“No, I just--”

“It may have ended, but it’s still technically the day of the First Hunt.” Lane stated, apparently too excited about the fact that one of them had found a human to care too much about Thomas’s potential distrust in him.

“Lane, that--”

“You should eat it right here and now, as tradition dictates.” This time, Lane’s interruption sent a wave of alarm throughout Thomas’s body. This was all so overwhelming. He’d just wanted to have a civil discussion with Tara, and now Lane was here trying to get him to eat her!

“What?! No, I’m not doing that!” Thomas cried, loathing the images that were forcibly appearing in his mind of himself dropping Tara into his mouth. What he hated more, was that there was a part of him that actually almost wanted to do so.

Thomas had always found the way giants felt so compelled to devour humans to be strange. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that giants enjoyed eating the tiny creatures, but that they enjoyed eating them whole and raw. With every other kind of meat, giants cooked and seasoned it prior to indulging. It was the civilized thing to do. But with humans it was different. Eating them alive was basically the only way that was considered proper. It was a barbaric practice. Thomas just didn’t understand what it was about humans that turned otherwise civilized giants into hunger driven savages. He didn’t want to be like that, no matter how much his instincts may be urging him to.

“But if you wait till we get home, you can bet someone will try to take it from you.” Lane insisted, clearly misinterpreting Thomas’s opposition to immediately eating the human.

“Lane--” Thomas started, though he didn’t really know where he was going.

“I think Daren wants to eat a human just as much as me, but he’s not your friend so he won’t hesitate to steal your catch.” Lane commented casually. Yesterday this kind of conversation wouldn’t have bothered Thomas in the slightest. Discussing eating humans was fairly commonplace among giants, and he’d never been upset when Lane had brought up the topic in the past. But now, after meeting Tara, Thomas found himself disgusted with how easily his friend spoke about ending another living being’s life.

“I am not eating her, period!” The exclamation had come out louder and stronger than Thomas had perhaps intended, but the way he had felt Tara practically shaking in his hand had elicited an unexpected response.

A look of confusion instantly took shape on Lane’s face, staring at Thomas like he had three heads. “What are you talking about?”

Thomas took in a deep breath. He really hadn’t wanted to have this conversation with any of his friends, least of all Lane. The guy was so lost in giant tradition that he couldn’t seem to consider the possibility that maybe their ancestors hadn’t been such great and admirable people afterall. Thomas didn’t even know how to begin explaining to Lane how he felt, but he had no choice but to figure it out as he spoke. “Lane, humans...eating humans isn’t--it isn’t something I can do.” He started lamely.

Lane narrowed his eyes. “And why the hell not?”

“Because I can’t bring myself to eat something as sentient as you or I.” Thomas responded simply. He could feel Tara’s little eyes on him, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact with the other giant.

“Oh please, you sound like those human sympathizer nut jobs.” Lane scoffed.

Thomas remained silent, unsure of how to respond. He had been raised to view the small number of human sympathizing giants as loons. These days, there were only two left in their small town, and they were both treated as total outcasts. Thomas realized he suddenly had more in common with them than the rest of the townspeople. Now that Lane knew how he felt, would it only be a matter of time before he too was socially shunned?

A noise of incredulity came from Lane as he shook his head in disbelief. “Thomas, we are predators and they are our prey. Eating humans is in our DNA.” He was spouting the same rhetoric as the town elders, and pretty much every adult in town to be honest. Thomas could recall a time when he was eleven, after studying human-giant relations in school for the first time, he’d come home and asked his father why giants loved eating humans so much. His father’s response had been that giants were naturally made to want to hunt humans, that it was an intrinsic part of giant nature. At the time, Thomas had accepted it as fact and moved on. But now, he was beginning to question everything he’d been taught.

“We’re not mindless animals, we don’t have to succumb to base urges.” He argued, almost pleadingly. He wanted his friend to understand, wanted him to see things the way he had started to.

Lane responded with an exaggerated eye roll, clearly not convinced by Thomas’s words. “Ok, you know what? If you’re not going to eat it, I will.”

Realizing what Lane was doing just in time, Thomas dodged to the side just as the shorter man made a lunge for Tara. Thomas’s fingers automatically tightened around the human girl’s body, evoking a sharp gasp from her. He felt bad for causing such a reaction, but he knew it was better for her to be uncomfortable in his hands than ending up in Lane’s at all. Thomas brought the hand holding Tara in close to his body, practically squishing her against his chest. “You need to back off.” He warned Lane as he himself slowly stepped further away.

---

Tara was quite sure that this day would forever rank number one on her list of worst days of all time, that is, if she even lived to see another day. Not only had she been captured and nearly eaten by a giant and later recaptured by said giant, but now there was a whole other giant involved, and one who seemed a lot more interested in eating a human than Thomas had.

This new giant, apparently named Lane, was somehow even more terrifying than Thomas, despite the fact that he looked to be slightly shorter in height. Thomas had never really looked at Tara with outright hunger in his eyes, at least not that she had detected. The same could not be said for Lane. Every time his eyes landed on her, she felt as though she were a piece of meat hanging in the window of a butcher’s shop. She absolutely hated it.

If Lane having just tried to grab her hadn’t been bad enough, Tara was currently in the highly unpleasant position of being tightly clutched in Thomas’s hand. While the grip around her body wasn’t painful, it was certainly far from comfortable. Not to mention the fact that she was being pressed into the giant’s chest, her face barely an inch away from the soft material of the sweater he wore. In order to even see anything except the expanse that was Thomas’s torso, she had to crane her neck around to look over her shoulder.

“If you don’t want to eat humans, then fine, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do it.” Lane growled.

Tara was very quickly getting fed up with all this talk of eating her, and what was more, she was fed up with just sitting idly by while two giants bickered about her fate. Using her arms to leverage herself, Tara managed to twist herself around within Thomas’s fist. Now facing out towards Lane, she leveled a wrathful glare at the giant. “No one is fucking eating me!”

Terror quickly began to eat away at Tara’s fierce facade when Lane’s cold blue eyes zeroed in on her. For a moment, he looked slightly surprised to hear her speak. She supposed it was likely the first time he’d ever heard a human’s voice before. However, the surprise quickly wore off and was replaced with a look of haughty disdain. “Listen here, morsel.” The blond giant sneered, the words causing Tara to physically flinch. “You broke the treaty by coming onto our land.”

“I didn’t mean--”

“The reason doesn’t matter. So long as you’re in our territory, you’re fair game.” Lane stated simply.

Technically, legally, Lane was right. For all intents and purposes, Tara had broken the treaty and was subject to whatever laws governed giants. But she didn’t care, she didn’t care what the laws were or what the treaty said. “Crossing a border doesn’t make me deserving of being killed.” Tara spat back with a scowl. “You giants are so twisted in the head if you think that’s right.”

Tara could feel Thomas’s fingers twitch around her. She wondered what kind of expression he was wearing at the moment, but she didn’t want to disqualify herself from the glaring contest that was currently taking place between her and Lane. “It’s the way nature works.” He said with an unconcerned shrug. “The predator hunts the prey. Don’t be upset because you got stuck as the prey.”

“Lane, knock it off!” Tara’s heart skipped a beat at Thomas’s sudden roar. His voice vibrated throughout her body and caused a slight ache in her ears. Still, the outburst couldn’t distract her from dwelling on Lane’s words. Was that really how giants saw it? They thought it was natural for them to devour humans, and so never stopped to ponder the moral implications?

“What is wrong with you?” Lane demanded, removing his gaze from Tara to shoot an incredulous look up at Thomas. “You can’t tell me you’re not dying to get a taste, the smell alone--”

“I already told you, I’m not eating her, and neither are you.” Thomas interrupted sharply. Tara was glad he’d stopped Lane when he had, the words the giant had been saying had already begun to make her feel sick to her stomach. Hearing how apparently delicious she smelled was horrific, and even worse was the hungry look of longing that had been on his face.

Lost in her own dark thoughts, Tara didn’t even notice the giant hand coming at her until it was too late. A scream got caught in her throat as her shoulders were shoved into the crease between the assaulting hand’s thumb and index finger. There was a burst of pain as she was forcibly wrenched out of Thomas’s hand. Then there came a disorienting blur as Tara felt her body being carried through the air at nauseating speeds.

When she finally managed to somewhat gather her senses, she found she was horizontal to the ground, her legs dangling while her upper half was forcibly held straight by massive fingers. It was then that she lifted her gaze from the distant earth. The sight in front of her caused a horrified shriek to tear through her throat.

There Tara was, being held directly in front of a wide open giant mouth, and she was rapidly being moved towards it.

---

Lane’s grab for Tara had been so sudden that Thomas hadn’t had the chance to evade it. Before he knew it, Lane had snatched the human right out of his hand, and it seemed his friend wasn’t about to waste any time in eating her.

Thomas could feel his pulse pounding in his neck as he watched almost as if in slow motion as Lane lifted the defenseless Tara to his gaping mouth. “No, this isn’t happening, I won’t let it!” Thomas’s thoughts screamed at him. Just as Tara’s head was about to enter the abyss that was Lane’s mouth, Thomas dove forward and managed to snag hold of the other giant’s forearm. A loud smack echoed through the woods from the impact of his palm on Lane’s bare arm.

Now forcibly holding Lane’s arm back from continuing its mission to deposit Tara into his mouth, Thomas threw a dark glare at his friend. “Give her to me now.” He demanded.

Lane looked back with a disbelieving look in his eyes. “Thomas, you need help. You’ve completely lost touch with your own instincts.” Here Lane was, about to end someone’s life without a second thought, and he had the gall to tell Thomas he needed help. It truly was twisted how giant society viewed things. Yet, was Thomas really one to talk? He’d played along with it all just yesterday. It had taken meeting a human, holding her in his hand, for Thomas to begin to truly question the ideas that had been drilled into his head for so long.

“My instincts don’t define me, I’m not a slave to primal urges.” The words were stated calmly and simply. Lane considered himself a scholar, and so Thomas would try to persuade him as such.

“Are you fucking serious?!” Lane exclaimed. Thomas could see his words were failing to give Lane pause, and instead were just offending the guy and pissing him off more. He was beginning to wonder if this was going to develop into a fight. Thomas may be tall and fairly fit, but he had no experience with physical altercations. But, neither did Lane. If both of them were equally inexperienced, Thomas hoped his greater size would put him at an advantage if it came down to it.

It was then that Thomas glanced down at Tara. Her body was being held in a precarious grip with four of Lane’s fingers on her back while the thumb was the only thing between her and the distant ground. This perhaps explained why she wasn’t struggling at all, she knew if she broke free, she’d be plummeting to what would likely be her own death.

Horrible waves of guilt rose up within Thomas. Tara was in this position because of him. She had wanted to leave the second he had found her, but he hadn’t let her. Now she was trapped in a life threatening scenario, and if a fight did break out between the two giants, the frail human could easily be damaged in the crossfire. Thomas would have to avoid that if at all possible.

“Lane, if you’re my friend, please just let her go.” He urged, allowing some vulnerability into his voice. Despite how it likely appeared to Tara, Thomas’s friend wasn’t heartless. The guy had been there for him at times when no one else had. He had to believe Lane was a good person at his core, that he had just been brainwashed to view humans as objects rather than people. Surely he could be reasoned with.

Lane opened his mouth as if to immediately refuse, but halted when he locked eyes with Thomas. After several moments of silence, he could see the resistance draining from his friend. With his free hand, Thomas positioned his palm just below Tara. Lane hesitated for a second before pulling his thumb out from under the human’s body, causing her to immediately drop down into the waiting hand.

As soon as Tara was safely back in his hands, Thomas brought her back against his chest. He was practically cradling the human, and chances were, Tara wasn’t exactly happy about it. However, he wasn’t about to stop, not when she’d be so nearly killed. And though he doubted Lane would make another grab for the human, Thomas didn’t plan on putting his guard down.

“This could be our only chance to eat a human, you know?” Lane said quietly. He stood back, arms folded over his chest. There was a somber look on his face.

Thomas gave his friend a sad smile. “I think we’re better off never doing it.”

Lane shook his head. “I can’t believe that.”

A glance down at Tara’s tiny form cupped in his hand was all the assurance Thomas needed to know that he was doing the right thing. Lane may not be able to see it yet, but maybe he could someday. He had put his friendship with Thomas over his desire to eat a human. That itself was a positive sign.

“I’m going to take her back to the border, we can talk after I get back to town.” Thomas stated, and with that he turned and left, Lane thankfully not attempting to pursue.

---

Tara was seated in the center of Thomas’s left palm, the giant’s other hand cupped in front of her to create a kind of barrier. As they had increased their distance from Lane, Thomas had transitioned from practically caging her in between his two hands, to at least now allowing her a little bit of breathing room.

So far, the journey to the border had been completely silent. Tara had no idea what to even say after everything that had happened, and Thomas apparently didn’t either. The silence hanging between them was beginning to become uncomfortable, and Tara was about to relent and just blurt out the first thing that came to mind, when Thomas finally spoke up. “Tara, I’m sorry.” The statement was simple, and yet caused her eyebrows to shoot up.

Turning around to face the giant, Tara tilted her head back to look at Thomas, only to be met with the underside of his jaw. He kept his eyes forward, but she could still make out a regretful frown on his face. His words had been genuine.

“My actions put you in danger.” The giant affirmed.

Tara gave a snort. “Yeah, they sure did.” She could see Thomas’s frown deepen as he gave a slight nod of understanding. “But,” Tara continued, “you did stand up to your friend for me, so I guess I can’t hate you completely.”

She was sure that if she ever recounted this story to any other humans, they’d never understand how she could not despise the giant that had caused her so many problems. And of course, Tara wasn’t about to join the Thomas fan club anytime soon. Yet, she couldn’t ignore the courage and kindness he had displayed when he protected her from Lane. Yesterday, she never would’ve imagined in a million years that a giant would not only refrain from eating her, but also willingly oppose their own friend for her sake.

These recent events were going to force Tara to reevaluate her views on giants. Thomas certainly seemed like an outlier, but surely he couldn’t be the only one. Lane had mentioned something about “human sympathizer nut jobs”, which seemed to suggest there were other giants who defied the norms. Perhaps giants were more human than she had thought?

The frown had faded slightly from Thomas’s face, though he still wore a serious expression. “Listen, I know that was a pretty bad first impression, but Lane really isn’t an evil person.” He insisted.

Tara held back a dry laugh. Lane was probably on the top of her list of least favorite people. Almost eating her proved worse than the former top spot holder’s offense of calling Tara a “vulgar swine.” Despite her clear dislike for the guy, she didn’t want to denigrate him directly to Thomas’s face. He clearly saw something redeemable in his friend, and while Tara couldn’t see it, she really did hope he was right. She knew that if it were her best friend, she would be giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” was all she said.

A few moments later, Tara began to notice the trees beginning to loom over her less and less. Soon, Thomas was wading through trees that reached his stomach. The sight of normal sized trees was like a breath of fresh air. She was eager to stop feeling so miniscule.

“This is the closest I’ve ever been to the border.” Thomas muttered.

From the tales she’d heard from her town’s scouts, there were times when giants would stand at the very edge of the border. These giants would apparently stare into human territory, and if they caught sight of one of the scouts, they would attempt to lure them over the border. Tara was glad to hear Thomas had never been among them.

A chuckle escaped her at the nervous look on the giant’s face. “Don’t worry, you’re not about to start getting shot with arrows.” She assured him. So long as Thomas never stepped a toe over the border, no human could cause him any harm.

Thomas’s gaze flicked down to Tara, a slightly abashed smile on his face. She smirked. It was almost endearing, the way something so massive could manage to appear so awkward and innocent.

It wasn’t long after that that the pair finally reached the border which separated giant and human territory. The boundary was distinctly marked by an extensive creek. It was shallow enough to easily wade through if need be, but thankfully they had arrived at a section with a few well placed stones that could be used to hop across.

“So that’s human territory, huh?” Thomas remarked, staring out at the land across the creek.

Tara gave a shrug, it wasn’t anything special, especially not this part, which was just a stretch of woods. Really, it wasn’t much different from the giants’ forest. Size was really the only major disparity.

“Hey,” Tara could feel the giant’s eyes back on her, “you never said why you were past the border in the first place.”

A rush of heat instantly began to warm her cheeks. The tale of how she’d wound up lost in giant territory wasn’t exactly a flattering one. However, she had a feeling Thomas wouldn’t stand for no response. “Primrose only grows on the other side of the border.” She started. “I only planned on going a little ways, but then a giant wolf came after me and chased me further in.”

Rather than the amused expression she had been expecting, Thomas was looking down at her with wide eyes. “That sounds terrifying.” He breathed. “Wolves are scary enough at normal size.”

Tara chuckled. “Not as terrifying as a giant person.” She meant the words sincerely, but she said them in a joking tone.

Thomas gave a sideways nod. “Fair enough.” He said, a small smile on his lips. There was a brief pause, and then, “I supposed I should put you down now, huh?” His disappointment at this prospect was evident. For whatever reason, the guy really seemed to like holding Tara. She, on the other hand, would be lying if she said she wasn’t eager to get out of giant hands.

Tara gave Thomas a shrug that said ‘well yeah, duh.’ The giant’s response was an over dramatic sigh before he moved his hands back a few inches from his chest. He then abruptly dropped into a crouch at a jarring speed. Tara involuntarily took a hold of Thomas’s nearby thumb to prevent herself from toppling over. A perfect example of why she was more than ready to be back on solid ground.

When Thomas looked down to see Tara clutching his thumb, his face morphed into the embodiment of the word ‘awww.’ She scowled back up at him and was quick to release her hold on the huge appendage. Her mother still sometimes called her cute despite her being fully grown, something Tara greatly disliked, so she certainly wasn’t going to take it from this giant. Seeing Tara’s grumpy face, Thomas was quick to try and wipe the expression off his face, although the soft smile remained.

“Move a little more slowly, would you?” She griped, crossing her arms over her chest.

A low chuckle came from the giant, but he nodded in understanding anyways. “Sure thing.” He then began to carefully lower the hand holding Tara down to the grass below. When the back of his hand was flush with the ground, Tara got to her feet and quickly hopped off of the warm palm. She took in a deep breath and blew it out, relieved to be mobile of her own accord once again.

With a grin on her face, Tara turned around to face Thomas. “Sheesh, I forgot how much bigger he looks when I’m down here.” She thought to herself as she stared up at the giant’s enormous figure. Even when he was crouched down, he still absolutely towered over her.

“Hey.” Thomas started, preventing Tara from dwelling on her growing size related anxiety. “I--I was wondering if maybe you might want to see each other again sometime…I could even bring you some primrose.”

The immediate answer that sprung to Tara’s mind was a resounding “no.” But, before she voiced it aloud, she stopped herself. The day’s events had proven one thing very clearly to her: giants were incredibly dangerous. Though she’d managed to escape with her life, she hadn’t come out unscathed. Tara’s shoulders still ached from where Lane had grabbed her earlier. However, she couldn’t pretend Thomas’s unexpected behavior hadn’t intrigued her a little. Plus his offer of bringing primrose was tempting. And, she had just thought of a way the two could talk safely, without any risk on Tara’s end.

While on very rare occasions humans would cross over the border as Tara had done, giants never did the same. For whatever reason, even the most vile giants seemed to obey the treaty to a T. For that reason, Tara figured it was safe to assume that Thomas would do the same. Therefore, if each party remained on their respective side of the border, in theory they could still converse with one another. It was something Tara would need to spend some time considering.

“I’ll think about it.” She told Thomas. “Come back in a week and check under that rock,” she pointed to a large stone behind the giant, “I’ll leave a note there with my answer.”

Thomas beamed down at her, clearly pleased he hadn’t been outright shut down by the human. It was amazing really, he was giving her the power to decide whether or not their relationship continued. It was something someone as big and powerful as him didn’t need to do, but in doing so, he showed that he had at least some respect for Tara’s autonomy. Definitely a good sign.

Tara made her way over to the edge of the creek closest to the path of stones. Not in the mood to get soaked, she carefully picked her way across, trying to ignore the giant eyes on her back. The moment her feet touched down on the grass on the other side, Tara could feel the muscles in her body relaxing. No longer was she in giant territory. She was back, safe and sound on her own side of the border.

When she turned back around to face Thomas, she could see him looking back at her with a gentle smile on his lips. He brushed strands of light brown hair away from his face, and as Tara took in his appearance, she was reminded how scarily human-like giants were. It would be far easier for humans to dismiss them as monsters if they had huge horns, or razor-sharp fangs. Now that she had met Thomas, it was now even more difficult to do so.

Holding her arms in front of herself, Tara returned Thomas’s smile, though hers was much less easy going than his. “Well, thanks for not eating me, I guess.” She said with an awkward chuckle.

Thomas made an amused sound in his throat. “You’re welcome.”

Lifting her gaze up to the sky, Tara noticed the sun was nearly halfway hidden beyond the horizon. Night would fall soon and she still had the walk back to town ahead of her. Not to mention there were probably some people wondering why her herb gathering trip was taking so unusually long. She still wasn’t sure what exactly she was going to tell her friends and family about her experience. It was something she’d have to mull over on the way home.

“So long, Thomas.” Tara gave a short wave.

“See you soon.” Thomas replied, a playful edge to his tone.

With that, Tara turned around and began the trek back to town. She didn’t feel the vibrations of retreating giant footsteps until the border was completely out of sight.

A/N I don't necessarily plan on making another part to the First Hunt per say, but I am making Tara, Thomas, and Lane official OCs on the blog. I'm thinking of taking story requests and prompts in the future, so if anyone wanted more of the First Hunt universe, perhaps that could be arranged 😜

#also my asks are always open #g/t #giant/tiny #g/t writing #g/t story #my writing #oc: Tara #oc: Thomas #oc: Lane #g/t community #vore mention

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advocaado · 3 years

Text

Fiction does not exist in a vacuum and absolutely can and does affect reality.

HOWEVER

Before you pin on your thought police badge and march off to start attacking people on the internet for the media they consume and create, let’s take a minute to talk about nuance and identify some actual problematic trends in media which have real life consequences.

The big question you need to ask yourself before you decry a person or piece of media is: Is that person/piece of media promoting, validating, and normalizing trends or acts that hurt real people? Or is that person/piece of media exploring a dark theme in fiction/harmlessly indulging in a kink?

Below are some examples of cases where “problematic” content in fiction is a danger to real life people, and many where it isn’t. This will not be an exhaustive list. I don’t have endless amounts of time to sit here and talk about every problem in fictional media, and even if I did, I wouldn’t, because there are many more things I’d rather do with my time.

Disclaimer: No media is 100% problem free. No human is 100% problem free. Engaging with others online to discuss problems in media is totally fine. If you don’t like something, it’s your god given right to bitch about it. Bitch to your heart’s content. Just don’t be an absolute ass cloak about it.

Example 1: Huckleberry Finn

This book famously contains racism. Is this a problem? No, not really. Listen. This book is literally about how racism is bad. The message is to not be a racist piece of shit. That’s the takeaway. If you got any other message from this book you need to work on your reading comprehension. Books that teach lessons are good things and impact society in positive ways. This book does literally the opposite of normalizing, promoting, and validating racism. It’s taught in schools for this exact reason. It’s not sugarcoated and that’s exactly what makes it powerful.

Example 2: Fairy Tail

The famous complaint about this and other works by Hiro Mashima is that the women are overly sexualized. Over sexualization of women is a big problem in media across the globe, but particularly in the media that comes out of Japan. It’s a problem that absolutely does affect real women. More on that later. But is Mashima really the big perpetuater of the kind of gross male reader voyeurism that has such a fierce grip on the anime industry? Actually, no. Not really. Yes, almost all the female characters in Fairy Tail are hot and have big boobs in a way that appeals to men. However, the lens through which Mashima tells his stories is not voyeuristic. He doesn’t go out of his way to draw panty shots or sexualize female characters nonconsensually. 9 times out of 10 the women are sexy because they want to be and do it in a way that is empowering for them. There are occasional exceptions, but by and large Fairy Tail is not the big offender of female objectification in anime. Moreover, almost all its male characters are hot and have six packs and idol hair in a way that appeals to women. Everyone is hot. There is no deeper meaning here. Enjoy this series if you like to watch hot people having fun and going on adventures together.

Example 3: Goblin Slayer

Oh, boy, Goblin Slayer. Now here’s a can of worms. Many upon many have decried GS for its inclusion of rape scenes and mentions. The goblins in GS have no females of their own species so they must impregnate human women to continue their race. This sounds utterly awful and it is. But is this finally our shining example of a dark theme in fiction that is problematic in a way that is dangerous to real people? Sorry, but no. Firstly, the concept of a fantasy creature who needs to use humans to reproduce was not invented by Kumo Kagyu and is in fact common in folklore around the world. He didn’t make it up as a way to condone rape. Could he have? Sure. But that’s not the reality of the series. The assault by goblins on human women is not treated as a good thing by Kagyu. It is shocking and horrific and has big consequences within the narrative for both the goblins and their victims. It isn’t treated lightly and does not serve to normalize, validate, or promote rape in real life. The reader/viewer is meant to be disgusted by the goblins, and these scenes, which are few and brief, serve their intended purpose. Nobody is going out and assaulting women in real life because they thought it was cool when the goblins did it in GS.

Oh, but Goblin Slayer, I’m not done with you just yet. Because while it would be a huge stretch to label the inclusion of rape in the series a danger to real life people, there’s something else that you don’t need to stretch nearly so much to identify as such. Remember when I talked about the voyeuristic male gaze being a concerning trend in anime? Well, GS has that in spades. The normalization of sexually objectifying women in non sexual situations is very much present in the series. Describing in loving detail the chest size/shape of every female character often and with gusto is a big part of the light novels. Kagyu loves to describe what a girl’s boobs are doing while she’s sitting at a table eating or doing any other mundane thing for no reason other than to sexualize her for the reader. He made the intentional decision to make Sword Maiden, a rape victim, very overtly sexual for the male gaze without the character having any agency in it. Sword maiden isn’t trying to be sexy. She doesn’t own her sexuality. Hell, she’s blind. Being sexy doesn’t empower her. She’s just fap fodder for the male reader. These things normalize objectifying women and are part of a longtime trend in anime which have real world consequences for both women and men. The sexualization of nonconsenting women is a huge problem in Japan and very much promoted through their media. Anime and light novels continue to send and perpetuate the message that objectifying women is okay and natural for boys to do, and while Kagyu certainly isn’t the worst offender, he’s happily hopped aboard that trolly because he doesn’t see anything wrong with it. And he can’t, because it’s been SO normalized.

Example 4: The Birth of a Nation.

This movie, while entirely fictional, is straight up anti-black propaganda intentionally made to spread hate and fear of black people. Obviously this is incredibly problematic and harmful to real black people. This movie was designed to be that way. The message is very clear. It’s a movie meant to rally whites against blacks, and it did. Horrifically so. Typically media containing hateful messages is less overt about it today, but abusing stereotypes and caricatures of real groups of people and otherwise intentionally perpetuating harmful ideas through fiction is a shitty thing to do and should be wholeheartedly condemned. (Note the keyword “intentionally”. If an author does this out of ignorance, which is all too common, rather than condemn we should seek to educate. People are capable of learning and growing and canceling them for mistakes made in ignorance is every bit as shitty as the mistake they made in the first place.)

Example 5: Fanfiction and shipping

At last, we come to fan media. This is where “don’t like don’t read” becomes the golden rule. Indulging in a kink or exploring dark themes in fanfiction is harmless 99.9% of the time. Fanfiction simply doesn’t have the reach, and thereby the influence, that mainstream media has. If someone wants to write something really fucked up, that’s their choice and nobody is making you read it. Unless the author is outright condoning harming real people, it’s really not your business what they choose to write about. Furthermore, deciding to read fucked up fanfiction does NOT make you a bad person. As stated before, the human psyche is messy and the world is not squeaky clean or a safe place. People are drawn to dark things and there’s really nothing wrong with that so long as real people aren’t being harmed. If something makes you uncomfortable, don’t engage. Protect yourself. You’re not making the world a better place by harassing people online. You’re just being a jerk and honestly doing far more harm to real ass people than that 20 year old writer on AO3 who wanted to write a story about Sasuke having sex with Naruto’s son because of 10 years of repressed sexual impulses toward Naruto.

I could say more but I’m tired and ready to celebrate my Friday by getting drunk. Feel free to interact if you want, just do everyone a favor and don’t be a dick.

TLDR

Things that make you a bad person:

Murdering people

Sexually assaulting/harassing people

Having sex with children

Creating or indulging in porn of real minors

Harassing and sending death threats to real people over the fictional media they create and consume

Espousing, condoning, or perpetuating hate toward marginalized peoples

Espousing, condoning, or perpetuating hate toward anyone tbh

Using fiction as a vehicle to promote, validate, and normalize causing harm to real people

Generally being an ass cloak

Things that DON’T make you a bad person

Consuming media that contains problematic elements

Creating media that contains problematic elements so long as you aren’t promoting, validating, and normalizing harmful acts toward real people

Writing fanfiction

Reading fanfiction

Shipping whatever you goddamn want to ship

#there’s been so much discourse surrounding this that I finally needed to weigh in #pro ship #we’re allergic to nuance here #tumblr I love you but

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xpeachesncream · 3 years

Text

acquainted | two

> series masterlist <

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed later on) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 2.0k

warnings: hoe-ish thoughts / implied sexual content, per usual

tags: @laurynne5, @yiyi4657, @bluesharksandfish, @miinoongi (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

You decided to stay behind with Jimin to get some homework done at the library. You were super tired, being that work earlier in the day was jam-packed with problems left and right. You literally felt like you had no time to take a breather up until now, if this is even considered a breather. You've also been feeling a little behind on your school work, and you knew trying to get this done at home wouldn't do you any good right now. You definitely wouldn't get anything done.

But damn, going home after grabbing your groceries and grubbing on some sushi and wine sure sounded nice as hell. Oh well, at least it'll be worth it.

As you sit in the far corner of the library with Jimin's back facing the entrance, you spot Mr. Kim walking towards the doors with another professor. You continue to write your notes as much as possible, but the distraction was evident and you weren't even mad at it. You continue to glance at him, just because he was simply nice to look at it, as he stood, hands in pockets while he laughed along with professor in front of him. Jimin raises his eyebrow and follows your glance, shaking his head at how blatantly obvious you were being.

"Y/N, really?" You were pulled out of your trance.

"Sorry."

"You literally can't be any more obvious." He laughed as he continued to write his notes.

"He's just nice to look at."

"Yes, I've heard." He snorted. "He's like, the talk of campus right now."

"See, and to think Taehyung was the only news that got around."

"God forbid he hears his spotlight has been taken away." Jimin responds sarcastically to match your tone. Mr. Kim glances over and coincidentally catches you looking at him, so he flashes that smile of his before returning his attention to the other professor. You return the favor toothlessly as he walks out of the library, bringing your attention back to the papers in front of you. "Stop!"

"I'm sorry, I really am." You laugh at Jimin's flustered look.

"You and Ryujin need to keep it in your pants."

"Calm down, we are." You rose your eyebrow. "But, let's just say he is single-"

"I'm not even gonna have this conversation with you right now."

"Hear me out." He sighs before looking up at you. "I would literally ride his face and bust it open for that man 24/7. Better yet, I'd ride him into the sunset. I would literally give it all to him, if given the opportunity." There's a slight pause before Jimin responds.

"Are you finished?"

"I think so."

"Never again am I giving you the benefit of the doubt." He waves his hand to dismiss that entire portion of the conversation, but hey, you were just being honest. A little too honest, but sometimes you just had to let it out. "Anyways, what are you doing after this?"

"I have a date with Trader Joes, then I'm gonna meet up with sushi and wine and hang out on my couch." Jimin chuckles.

"Fun."

"What about you?"

"Just head home, probably hop on Monster Hunter and hunt with Taehyungie."

"Sounds productive." You nodded in agreement.

"Wanna have dinner soon? You cook, I clean?" He smirked.

"Or.. you cook, I clean, or we can order take-out. Those are the only two options."

"Actually, I'm not opposed to cooking."

"Just let me know, date and time." He nods. Sooner or later, you both are checking the clock and packing up by the time you realize it's 7:30pm. You figured now would be a good time to grab your groceries since the rush has probably died down. You had quite the list of groceries to grab and you were feeling relieved that you could finally make the time to go.

When you arrive, the lot is still slightly full of cars, but you easily grab a spot on the other end of the lot. You tucked your jacket tightly against your body before grabbing a cart for all your needs. You can't lie, this is pretty soothing to you and you're pretty excited to walk up and down the aisles, browsing at all the unnecessary items you'll probably end up throwing in your cart. I mean, why the hell not? It only means your cabinets and fridge would be stocked for awhile—

"Oops, so sorry." You're pulled out of your exciting thoughts when you accidentally bump into someone trying to step back and bend down for some black truffle alfredo sauce on the bottom shelf.

"Miss Y/L/N?" You recognized that voice. Easily. Slowly turning, you see Mr. Kim and tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. Your body goes hot and you can't help but feel incredibly embarrassed for having literally bumped into him, yet again. He must be so damn tired of running into you already.

"Oh my god, I did it again." You facepalmed, causing him to chuckle. "I'm so sorry."

"Hey, at least it was softer this time. And you're empty-handed." You flash him a worried look. "I'm kidding, Miss Y/L/N. I promise it's not a big deal." Your expression softened. You can't help but marvel at his beauty and how truly flawless he was.

"You must probably hate me already."

"Well, I don't hate anyone for one thing, and two, I don't think there's any way that I can hate you." You softly smile at him.

"I swear I'm not doing this on purpose, Mr. Kim. I'll be more careful--"

"Call me Jin."

"Jin?"

"Mr. Kim doesn't exist if we aren't in the classroom." You nodded as you followed his lead with your cart.

"Alright, Jin. Well, I promise I'm not doing this on purpose."

"Sure about that?"

"100%." You both laughed before there was a slightly awkward pause. "Sooo, grocery day for you, too?"

"Mmm, yeah I figured I might as well since I'm still in the area."

"Do you live nearby?"

"About 25 minutes away or so in Orinda. You?"

"Yeah, right up in the Oakland hills."

"Beautiful area, I gotta say."

"It is. Sometimes, it has its days. Still can't hate it though." He nodded. You had both pushed your carts towards the cashiers at this point, and you took notice of the ring on his finger. Bummer, you jokingly thought. That would have been fun. You internally chuckle at Ryujin's hoe ass ways rubbing off on you, but at the same time, could you really expect a man like him to be single? Fucking kidding me? "Did you grab everything you needed for you and your wife?" You don't know what takes over you, but the question is already out there. No take-backs.

"Uh," He chuckles nervously as he scratches the nape of his neck. "Fiancé, so not entirely there yet. But yes, yes I did. Did you?"

"Yeah, I'm done. Or, I should be, so I don't grab more things that I don't need." You pointed down at your cart. You both fall in line together, with Jin going first. Afterwards, he grabs his bags and lingers around at the end of the cashier.

"Let me grab those for you and walk you to your car."

"I got it."

"No, I got it." He insists as he gently grabs the bags from you. "Besides, it's dark out."

"Thank you, I really do appreciate it. But, I don't wanna take more time out of your day. I am a grown woman who can handle it, you know?" You chuckle.

"Yeah, I know. And you're also a grown woman who lives in this world and it's close to 9pm." He looked down at you as he continued to follow you to your car on the other end of the lot. What a gentleman. Honestly, everything you told Jimin earlier stands and this man was doing nothing but proving your ass right. He could really get it.

When you finally arrived at your car, he placed your bags in your trunk and shut it close.

"What's next, gonna make sure I get home safely?" You joked, but you were silently cursing yourself because your flirting had been a little rusty and this was not it, miss.

"I mean, I would if you really needed me to for safety reasons."

"Well, that's sweet, but I'll be alright. Thank you, though." He nodded.

"You sure?"

"I promise."

"Lots of promises being made tonight Miss Y/L/N, please don't let me down."

"Just call me Y/N." You gave him a reassuring nod.

"Lots of promises being made tonight Miss Y/N, please don't let me down." He repeated, smiling from ear to ear.

"I won't." You took one last look at him. "Thank you again. Not sure how else I can thank you for taking the time out of your evening to do this." You open the door to the driver's side, with Jin holding it open for you as you step in and situate yourself in the seat.

"It's not a problem at all. Drive home safely."

"You too. See you tomorrow?"

"See you in class." He shuts your door and winks before walking off. With that, you had driven off to grab your dinner and head home. What the hell just happened? It seemed like the most basic thing, but you couldn't shake off how sweet his gestures were tonight. Damn, has it really been that long since you've gotten any type of action?! You couldn't help but think of his fiancé and how she must be so happy to have someone like him by her side. Not gonna lie though, you feel a little heartbroken about it.

"He's engaged." You drank a huge gulp of your wine as you facetimed with Ryujin. She snorted and shook her head. "Our fine piece of eye candy is engaged."

"Y/N, I love you, and he was such a gentleman for that, but you're such a hoe." She laughed louder. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? He is a grown ass man with a fiancé and he's our teacher! You need to stop having these impure thoughts."

"Shush, it's harmless. I was just entertaining myself with the what if's."

"Please. I know you. None of these what if's ever stay what if's. Your curiosity always gets to the best of you." Her tone rose playfully.

"What if I just want to have a one-on-one session with him?"

"See, there it goes. One-on-one over what? How to get dicked down properly?"

"No. To get to know him better as our p r o f e s s o r."

"Okay and why wasn't Dr. Bliss on your 'get to know me' list?"

"That's different."

"How?" You laugh. This kind of behavior was unexpected from Ryujin. You didn't think she'd be so against your hoe-ish thoughts. "There's open office hours for that, or maybe yet, a google sheet for him to get in contact with his students so he could set up time with everyone!"

"We're overthinking this."

"We? You. I know you want that ass."

"Stop, no!"

"Mhm, and he probably would too if you gave him the green light cause you're hot as hell." This sounded more like Ryujin. "This is some good, wild shit."

"Oh hush, no it's not. No one wants anything, no one is doing anything and no one should be doing anything."

"Wait till Jimin and Tae hear your thoughts." She laughed out loud once more.

"That's why they aren't on this call." You groaned. "You know what, I need to not talk about this anymore. I'm gonna go sit in a hot, relaxing bath. Goodbye."

"With Mr. Kim?"

"Bitch, alone. Bye." You chucked your phone to the side and shook your head. Where that conversation go? Absolutely nowhere. You were having a tiny crush on your professor and that was it. This too shall pass.

But lowkey, you'd risk it if he gave you the opportunity.

"You don't do that shit, Y/N. Not to anyone." You harshly whisper to yourself to shake the thoughts out of your head and get your bath started. You just don't do that shit to people who are engaged, let alone in relationships. You don't wreck the home they've built from the ground up.

I repeat: you don't lose that respect.

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luidilovins · 3 years

Note

You should turn your post on the Uncanny Valley into a book or something. I am not even kidding, it's brilliant and sorely needed information. Thank you for it.

Tbh its just speculative that the uncanny valley is an inherent biological trait and not cultural or a learned behavior at the moment. A good example would be the cultural phenomenon of colorophobia where in the US we have a longer history of using clowns in our horror pop culture genres than countries like Japan.

Clown entertainment has been around since the Egytian times and maybe some people have always been freaked out by them it honestly just takes one director or author to have an disproportionately irrational fear and good cinematography skills to convince people that they SHOULD hate clowns just as much, (I could say the same about the movie Jaws but thats a bit of a tangent,) or a memorable event that damages the public's trust in something that SHOULD be innocent or harmless. (A good examples being the John Wayne Gacy trials.)

Clowns are also thought to be in the uncanney valley so ita a fairly good argument on cultural phenomenon versus genetic traits. Up until aroud the 60s-70s clowns were actually fairly well liked by the US general public and a lot of older generation still find a fondness in it that would scare the living shit out of their grandchildren.

As far as evidence that I may be right about the "uncanney valley might be because of rabies" theory, there has been a small case study suggesting that the movements of a non-human robot that trigger the effect in us, is also present in people with parkinsons but the sample size is too small for me to be thoroughly convinced.

And don't be mistaken I also dislike this concept because saying that ableism is an inherent human trait is just as bad as saying racism is an inherent human trait. There is little to gain from distrust in the disabled and little historical evidence to suggest it was common or beneficial to discard disabled people. Disabled people's remains have been found time and time again to live to incredibly long livea and be cared for, and participate in their communities. I'm highly critical of this particular case study and I take it with a grain of salt because its on cosmo, but evidence of human disabilities and compassion can be sourced by actual bones and it's been placed on VERY credible sources. NPR, NBC, Discovery, Nat Geo, NY Times, literally the clostest you can get to creme of the crop news articles on DOZENS of accounts and if you have a goddam problem then pay for a tour to the Smithsonian, find an archeologist and coherse them into showing you the bones and then explain phorensics to you because you probably wouldn't understand unless you too were a phorensic archeologist yourself.

What I DO BELIEVE tho is that if the uncanny valley is a legitimate inherent trait, that like most evolutionary traits, it made it this far for this long because it somehow served us benificially. And the biggest benifit I can think of is identifying neuro-infectious diseases because they can spread agressivley, many of them lead to death or lasting effects and are fucking MISERABLE to catch. We're talking brain swelling, fevers, uncontrollable vomiting, tremors, hallucinations, motor and vocal tics, difficulty swallowing, seizures. This could all happen because they eat infected deer meat or because of one bad fox bite. It's miserable if you survive and horrifying if you dont. Rabies can survive in your muscle tissue for years before infecting your brain and once it does usually you only live for about 5-10 days in and out of concious knowledge that you're going to die painfully, and disease aggrivated psychosis. It would be hard to pinpoint the causation because the amout of time before full blown infection would vary too much to assosiate for a long time. So your only option is to hone in on telltale signs.

The disabled people who would suffer from herdeditary or developmental neurological disorders run the risk of prejudice from mistaken identity, but if a human is part of a community, and doesn't die within a week from having a wobbly head, it would sooner or later become apparent that they're not dangerous. I think nowadays culturally people don't press to learn more about disabled people due to social and political prejudice and never fucking grow up past that. Mistaken identity or not. You learn about people from the patterns of their behaviors so even ones that seem abnormal to you become a normal recognizable pattern for them. Fancy that.

We don't get grossed out by chimps or gorillas, who are even more distant cousins, and the proof that we don't have a search and destroy button for anything immediatly related to us is a bunch of bullshit can be found in almost every human's blood on earth. And not just neanderthals, but denisovans as well. And that's not even accounting for genetic backtracking the crossbreeding of other sapiens species before we were whittled down to just the three. What makes the tweet even stupider is that when neandertals still roamed the earth humans were shorter, hardier, and overall more rough looking so we looked even indistinguished then. We Also Chewed On Bones and neandertals handled cold climates better than us based on a study on chest cavity density and, skull nasal intake and heat circulation, providing genetic diversity and the upper hand in survival in the tundras or mountainous regions spanning over Eurasia. If it wasn't for humans fucking neandertals we might not have been able to spread over the contient or diversify the way we did.

So my full hypothesis is that if the uncanny valley is a genetic inherent human trait it was used to benifit people from catching agressive diseases in a time where the benifit of fearing a group member with rabies outweighed the cost of fearing a group member with a disability like parkinsons.

WHAT PISSED ME OFF was the idea that we are DESIGNED to be unwary of our evolutionary cousins could easily be used for white supremacist spaces to justify racism BECAUSE IT ALREADY HAS

So that one tweet that might seem like a quirky thinkpiece in my eyes is just fuel for eugenics trend round whatever number we're on. It's like we don't fucking learn. It would be REALLY easy to retool the concept that it's natural for people to be fearful of whatever the bullshit definition of sub-humans are. Claiming that black people were sub-human thus deserving of mistrust and submission to white ownership worked like a fucking charm.

Maybe if I go to college and major in psyche/socio/civics it'll be my college thesis. Right now I'm more of a hobbyist than anything, but what I DO know is that anyone can make an untested hypothesis to combat another untested hypothesis and it should hold just as much goddamn value. I combatted the idea that the idea that human othering was funneled into an unconfirmed effect that causes disgust and terror based on non-human sapiens is in fact racist and gave what is in my opinion a more evoluntionary practical approach to the uncanney valley.

The generalized links that I used APARENTLY weren't good enough for some people but aparently a single tweet that says "hur dur heedle dee uncanney valley exists because of human cousins" was taken at face value even tho it was probably tapped out in five seconds without regards to the reproccussions. I find a huge discomfort that less than studious links about the evolution of monkey social behaviors that I used as a guideline to explaining my concerns became the focal point for people to nitpick without even having the gall to "well actually" on the subject. That absolute ravaging NEED to rip apart at it and devolve into name calling because I MENTIONED racism is fucking suspicious and I don't trust it. I had to stop looking at the responses because some people were only reblogging and arguing with barely half of my argument and i was getting nowhere fast.

There were a few people that made actual points with cited sources that made their own rebuttle arguments. That I respect. It's just as valid an argument as mine and I'm ALWAYS willing to take on more credible sources to strengthen my stance or gain perspective.

But it's the utter dismissal of a concerning concept that just seeped into the subtext that gnawed at my gut. Some people on top of hating the linked sources I provided, admitted they didn't read it, refused to read between the lines to purposfully misinterpret or derail my main points, and detract that my claim that the tweet was a result of systemic white supremacy saturated into modern science was a bunch of bullshit because I claimed that 1500s anglos invented racism.

The thing is we did invent the racism that we fucking currently subscribe to.

We practice the science that we formulated based on our own social prejudice. Real people die from this.

We remain uncritical of our own theorums that we postulate then pat ourselves on the back like we're philosophical geniuses even though racism is a family heirloom with a new paint job.

We preach the eugenics ideals that we pulled out of our asses to benifit from fearmongering, promises of national security and unpaied labor.

White supremacists create subtext with the intention of it being consumed by accident or in ways that seem palatable.

Fuck.

That.

I don't hate the person who wrote the tweet. Chances are that they gave the tweet as much thought as they took the time to write it and went on their day as a fun little thinkpiece. Everyone on the internet does it. But its that kind of thinking error that needs to be adressed as a progression of historic and scientific prejudice that gets rehashed, recycled and untouched and continually damages and is weaponized against marginalized people. I am not wrong for taking it seriously especially when a bunch of people were sitting around nodding their heads just as effortlessly.

I don't owe the internet any more sources than the tweet. I don't owe anyone on the internet a full scientific ananysis. And the people's reaction to what I had to say was actually what further convinced me I might have hit the nail on the head.

#answered asks #uncanny valley effect #eugenics #fuck white supremacy #systemic racism #racism #negative #slavery #luidilovins

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refinedbuffoonery · 3 years

Text

Flawless (6)

masterlist.

Content Warning: swearing, violence, sex, PTSD

Not gonna lie, this is a bit of a filler chapter. But the NEXT chapter...that’s the one you’ve all been waiting for. Also, I’ve had “bad guy” by Billie Eilish stuck in my head for DAYS, so that’s the song playing during the runway show.

*****

A week after the job at the director’s house, Riley sank into her first-class airplane seat and immediately opened her laptop, the tan pleather chair squeaking slightly as she crossed her legs beneath her. Dimming the brightness, Riley angled her laptop so no one could see it but her. She’d been profiled plenty of times in the past while writing perfectly benevolent code. Riley certainly didn’t need anyone catching her working on something more nefarious.

If she did this right, then she’d be able to just connect her phone to whatever Louvre computer that controlled security and be free to do whatever she wanted.

If she didn’t...she’d need to brush up on her French.

Nikki dozed in the seat beside her. She’d been bouncing off the walls all morning in anticipation of getting to see Fashion Week in person after Riley had promised to go with her to as many fashion shows as they could sneak into. Nikki’s excitement was infectious. While the priority was to see the runway show of the designer whose Louvre afterparty they were crashing, before they boarded the flight, Riley found herself sifting through fashion blogs to determine which other shows she wanted to see. All couture, of course.

Across the aisle, Jill had her nose buried in an incredibly thick book Riley couldn’t see the cover of, and behind her, Cage and Desi curled together like a human pretzel as they watched a movie. They were disgustingly happy, and that made Riley happy too.

When they were somewhere over the middle of the Atlantic, Nikki awoke, grumbling, “You’re going to ruin your eyes if you stare at that screen any longer.” She was right. Riley’s vision had started to blur at the edges hours ago, and she knew she’d have a hard time focusing on things in the distance when she finally looked up. Riley saved her work and shut her laptop.

Nikki still hadn’t budged from her awkward curled position, but her eyes were open. Riley figured now was as good of a time as any to make Nikki answer her last lingering question. “So you still haven’t told me why you and your boyfriend broke up,” she probed. “You know, the one who hacks everything else.”

Nikki sighed, rolling her head to glare at Riley. “Do I have to tell you?”

“Yes.”

“Fine.” Nikki sat up. “When we met, he told me he worked for a government think tank. Really nerdy stuff, does a lot of consulting. I figured he was smart but harmless.”

“I remember.”

“That was a lie. He’s a government agent, all right. But not the nerd kind. The double-O-seven kind.”

Riley nearly choked. “A spy?” she hissed. “You dated a fucking spy?”

“Surprise.”

“How did you find out?”

“The same way he found out about me. I originally told him I was a freelance art appraiser”—not far from the truth, actually— “and the IT job was to help make ends meet. We both bought each others’ lies at first, but over time we both struggled to keep our stories straight. And then one day it all just...fell into place, I guess. We had a massive fight, and by the time the dust settled, I think we both knew there was no going back to how things were before we knew the truth.”

Riley laced her fingers through Nikki’s, conveying her empathy through touch rather than words. “What agency does he work for?”

“The Phoenix Foundation.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“It’s DXS. The name changed while you were gone.” At least Nikki couldn’t still say the P-word either. But DXS...DXS could move Christmas. If Nikki’s boyfriend told anyone about her real job, they were all in trouble. Big trouble.

“Think he’s going to come after you? Come after us?”

“I don’t know.”

Trying to lighten the mood, Riley said, “Ignoring the part where he knows you’re a criminal, it must’ve been pretty cool to date a real-life black-ops spy. I bet he knew all kinds of tricks.” The innuendo easily rolled off Riley’s tongue.

Nikki smacked her shoulder. “We were having a nice moment and you had to go and ruin it by being gross. What the fuck, dude?”

Riley rolled her eyes. “Love you too.” And she did. Despite the grudge she may or may not be holding, Riley loved her. She never stopped.

*****

They landed in Paris at night, and the Five Eyes crashed the moment they made it to their swanky, overpriced hotel room. The next day, they bounced around the city attending as many runway shows as traffic allowed. Riley didn’t understand the hubbub and overdone romanticism; Paris was just like any other major city—loud and overcrowded. And snobby. So very snobby.

On their second day in Paris, the women chose to divide and conquer. Desi, Cage, and Jill teamed up to scope out the Louvre. Riley and Nikki attended the runway show of the designer whose masterpiece they intended to steal.

As she and Nikki found their seats along the runway, Riley made a mental note of all the exits. Their seats were in the back, against a wall. Nikki hoped for a better view, but Riley liked it better this way. Sitting by a wall, she had something solid behind her and could see everyone come and go without having to turn around. Riley had always kept meticulous tabs on her surroundings—that’s what made her so good at her job—but the fear of not being able to see what’s coming was new.

She didn’t tell Nikki about it.

The blonde blended right in with the highly fashionable crowd, wearing a floor-length, gray plaid coat with hot pink lining. Nikki was completely in her element here, and sometimes Riley thought her friend would’ve been better off legitimately pursuing a career in fashion rather than letting Riley drag her into the world of shadows, secrets, and cons.

While they waited, Riley fidgeted with a button on her black blazer. Her whole outfit was the same shade of her signature color—blouse, blazer, leather leggings. But her boots were the real showstopper—thigh-high black suede with intricate gold embroidery down the entire front. Riley saw them in a window yesterday and had immediately gone inside to purchase them. The boots were outrageously expensive, but it didn’t matter. Riley Davis was already a filthy rich woman, and after this job, she’d have more money than she would ever know what to do with.

The house music quieted, and the designer—older man, favored his left leg, voice thin and raspy like a smoker—strutted down the runway, microphone in hand, welcoming the audience and beginning the show. He rambled on, ruminating over his inspiration for this collection. Nikki hung on every word. Riley tuned him out.

So this was the man who was renting out the Louvre. Riley couldn’t even imagine the amount of money and favors it took to secure such an ostentatious party venue.

What she could imagine, however, was that she’d surely be subjected to yet another one of these long-winded speeches at the afterparty tonight. On the bright side, that would buy her and her team extra time, making the job that much easier.

The show began with a sweep of the lights as the music dropped to a low, pulsing beat Riley could feel just as much as she could hear. The crowd murmured respectfully as the first model appeared wearing a shiny black gown that looked like a trash bag had been melted to her body with the excess pooling on the floor. She told Nikki as much, earning an eye roll.

The next gown was better—sheer fabric with countless thin, metallic gold vertical stripes. The skirt had pretty lines, giving the model the illusion of curves she didn’t have. After that was a strapless canary yellow ball gown with a full, pillowy train.

“I don’t understand why designers keep making yellow clothes,” Riley hissed. “No one looks good in yellow.”

“That model does.”

“No one looks good in yellow.”

Nikki twisted in her seat and glared, which Riley ignored. “Are you going to say anything nice?”

“You’d miss my commentary if I stopped.” Riley’s snide comment earned her an elbow to the ribs, but she caught Nikki’s smile all the same.

The next gown was cherry red satin, with huge ruffles on one shoulder and the opposite hip. The extra fabric was a lot, but there was something elegant about the gown nonetheless.

Leanna would look good in that one, Riley stopped herself from saying aloud. Nikki—nor anyone else, for that matter—hadn’t said another word about Leanna since Riley first asked weeks ago. Suddenly their longtime friend was taboo, and Riley didn’t want to disrupt the tentative peace she had with Nikki just to push for answers she probably wouldn’t get.

Another ugly gown, this one feathery pink with a sort of netting over top.

But the last one...the last one caught the eye of every single person in the audience.

Including Riley.

The sheer dress was covered in intricate silver beading that accentuated its long sleeves and mermaid silhouette and left little to the imagination. It was the kind of show-stopping gown one wore when they wanted to be the center of attention.

Despite the audience’s rising hum of approval, Riley still heard Nikki murmur, “That one is all you.” And it was. Riley would wear that gown in a heartbeat if she had the opportunity—too bad most jobs required her to blend in, not stand out.

She was too busy lusting after the gown to respond.

From her seat, Riley could just see into the wings, and she spotted who could only be the designer’s assistant, running the show behind the scenes. Even from a distance, Riley had a feeling the young woman’s hawk-like gaze missed absolutely nothing. The designer would be easy enough to bamboozle during the heist, but this woman could very likely become a problem.

Riley committed the assistant’s appearance to memory and set the thought aside for later.

*****

Later that afternoon, the Five Eyes reconvened in their hotel suite. They still had a couple hours until they needed to get ready for the afterparty. Since only Cage and Nikki had been there before, Desi, Cage, and Jill had spent the day scouting the Louvre. It was good for Jill to work with Desi for a change; because of her military background, Desi’s way of thinking through a job diverged greatly from everyone else’s.

Team meetings like this were one of Riley’s favorite parts of the job—swapping intel and strategizing the best way to pull off the job. Or the most fun way, which was usually also the riskiest. But tonight, the team was in unspoken agreement that they would play it safe, both because of Jill and the importance of this long-awaited job.

Piled onto one plush, king-sized bed, the five women sat tangled together as they tore through the box of pastries Riley purchased on the way back to the hotel. For the first time in forever, Riley was hungry. She avoided dwelling on that fact as she licked her fingers and picked up stray crumbs that fell on the off-white comforter.

“So, what did you learn?” Nikki quizzed Jill.

Jill pushed up her glasses with her middle finger, speaking with her mouth full. “The room the party will be in is super fancy and at the far corner of the building.” She swallowed. “First floor.”

“Good. What else?” Riley prompted. “How do Nikki or I get to security and the building’s system control?”

“There’s an employee door in the hallway…” Jill trailed off. “Wait. This is a test, isn’t it? You already know.”

Riley smirked. “I do.”

Disbelief etched Jill’s face. “How? You told me yourself that you’ve never been there!”

“I have my ways.” Riley would tell her eventually, but for now, it was more fun to lure trade secrets over Jill’s head. She reached for another buttery pastry, selecting one topped with slivered almonds.

But before Riley could continue her taunting, Desi spoke up. “There’s something you should know.” The mood plummeted into seriousness.

Riley and Nikki both raised their eyebrows. Go on.

“Nikki’s ex was at the museum.”

“Which one?” Nikki asked cautiously. Riley could hear the dread in her tone, the same dread that churned in her own stomach.

“You know which one.”

Riley swore. Nikki’s ex, the spy, was at the Louvre. “Did he see you?”

Cage answered, “We have to assume he did. And we also have to assume he recognized Desi and me as Nikki’s friends.” Riley set her pastry down, no longer hungry as the heist of her dreams started to crumble before her eyes. She refused to let that happen.

“He was with a middle-aged man who definitely had a gun tucked into his belt,” Desi said. “Based on that and his haircut, I’d say he’s probably ex-military.”

“Mac is too.” Tucking her knees to her chest, Nikki’s voice was uncharacteristically small as she spoke. Defeat wormed its way across her features. Nikki thought they couldn’t pull off the job now, Riley realized.

No way. She wouldn’t let one stupid ex-boyfriend get in the way of her dream job. And her grossly large payday.

“It’ll be fine,” Riley reassured. “He knows you’re into fashion, right?” Nikki nodded. “Then he has to assume you’re there for innocent, legitimate reasons. Innocent until proven guilty, remember? All we have to do is avoid looking suspicious, which we already do anyway. He won’t have any evidence to pin it on us besides a hunch, and even if he shares that hunch, he’ll get in trouble for not disclosing information about you and your relationship sooner.”

Jill said, “That seems overly optimistic.”

“Which one of us is the expert?” Riley snapped. Jill flinched, and the other three watched Riley warily. “Sorry,” she grumbled.

The tension only somewhat dissipated.

“Anyway,” Riley redirected. “We picked up the replicas.” She gestured to Nikki’s Balenciaga bag sitting open on a nearby chair.

“Replicas?” Riley fought the urge to sigh at Jill and her constant questions.

“What did you think we were going to do? Just take the jewelry and run like hell?”

Jill’s silence was a resounding yes.

“Pickpocketing 101. What did I tell you?”

Understanding dawned in Jill’s wide, blue eyes. “When you steal something heavy, put something else in its place.” A pause. “We’re going to replace the jewelry with fakes so no one even realizes the real set is missing.”

It was Cage’s turn to smirk. “She’s catching on.” The blonde leaned in. “So, can we see them?”

Nikki was off the bed in an instant, retrieving a package wrapped in plain brown paper from her purse. She let Cage have the honor of unwrapping it and revealing the masterfully crafted jewels.

The faux-sapphire and diamond necklace and earrings were stunning. And exact replicas of the real set. The only difference was a tiny, insignificant bump Nikki’s jeweler added to the back of each piece so they could quickly tell the difference between the replicas and the real deal.

Desi whistled. “Damn. Those are stunning.” Beside her, Cage nodded appreciatively. “You would look so hot wearing those,” Desi murmured to her girlfriend. “Wearing only those.”

Blushing furiously, Cage shoved her girlfriend off the bed.

Riley knew that if she let them, her friends would spend hours examining the jewels. Clearing her throat to get everyone’s attention, she asked, “Everyone clear on the plan?”

The four other women nodded in turn, first Desi, then Nikki, then Cage, and finally Jill.

“Good.”

“That’s it?” Jill questioned. “No team pep talk?” The other women chuckled, but Riley just rolled her eyes.

“That one,” Desi pointed at Riley, “is the wrong person to ask for a pep talk.”

Riley’s jaw dropped in mock outrage. “Hey! Speak for yourself.” Desi shrugged. Directing her attention back to Jill, “You really want a pep talk?”

Jill blinked.

“Don’t fuck this up.”

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.

@macrileyedits / @hellishrose / @incorret-macgyver-quotes / @mylifequotesshowallofthem / @thecarrieonokay

#beth writes #flawless au #macgyver #riley davis #nikki carpenter #desiree nguyen #samantha cage #jill morgan #macgyver fanfiction

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oppabimbab · 4 years

Text

the harder, the better | park jinyoung

genre : smut (riding, stroking, cursing)

starring : jinyoung x reader

synopsis : when you can’t help the jealousy and anger at your boyfriend, park jinyoung, you start to act up like a bitch but he end up making sure that you well aware; he wants no one but you. he wants to fuck you harder, more than anyone else

words count : 3653 words

side note : hello thirsty hoes. im back with jinyoung’s fic bc tl seems dry af (i know yall is doing quarantine thingy thats fine) its kinda bad lmaooo but yeah you gonna read it anyway 👀

You sip the remaining champagne inside the tall glass that you have been swirling for god-knows-how-long. Just as much as you love that alcohol, today it tastes like a motherfucking poison in your throat. It’s burning your tongue every time you swallow a drop—like a fire. Just like your heart.

You glance at your boyfriend, Jinyoung, who is talking casually to bunch of his friends that he bumps to at the bar counter, not too far from your seats.

He looks as majestic as he always does—broad shoulder, long and toned legs, muscular arms and delicious torso.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with how your boyfriend behaves with his friends but what bothers you the most is that one bitch, who is always clinging to him from the first minute you come here to the party.

Irene. That beautiful bitch. She always stands there beside Jinyoung; chuckling at every words that come out from his mouth—moving her ass and exposing her boobs for them to brush against him while she gave the endless refilled wine to him. Let alone, staring at him while he smiles and laughing, like you aren’t existed here.

Damn, is that a friend should do? You know she is Jinyoung’s colleague, he has been chanting that to you and you’re convinced but you can’t remember that, a friend should grind her body to her colleague like she wants to fuck him—that much. You’re positive until today when you clearly can’t hold the anger anymore.

When the last drop of the champagne touch your throat, you met her eyes. Her bitchy eyes along with the foxy smile, plastering all over her face before she scoots closer to Jinyoung and on purpose, she ‘accidently’ makes herself fall on him—making her exposed boobs slightly brush on his arms.

Just how gentleman Jinyoung is, he looks shock and immediately helps her to get on her feet. Making her smile becomes wider, at you.

Seeing that, you can’t help but feel extremely intimidated and pissed. Not sure if it’s solely on that bitch Irene or your boyfriend. You inhale some air to calm yourself from the sight. You try to look unbother, not giving any piece of damn at her, who is having fun drooling at your man.

For real, Irene is extremely gorgeous. You can’t deny. You know people swoon over her because of her beauty and sexiness every time she passes by, doing the bare minimum—or simply said, she is the main star of this party. Everyone loves her. She looks perfect. Just like him.

Now, that thought bothers you the most.

The ride is filled with silences from both of you and him as he drives back to the apartment that you have been sharing with him for the past 9 months.

You don’t feel like talking to him. At all. He asked you to come along to this party but why the fuck did he make you feel less—like you don’t belong there, as his girl. You’re not sure what he did wrong but when you saw him walking back to you at the table after almost touching other girl’s boobs, you immediately feel upset. Extremely upset. You’re pissed, annoyed, jealous and angry. You can’t bring yourself to talk to him at this moment.

And he seems like he doesn’t care about that. Good thing because all you want is to go back to sleep with this anger. You stare out of the window, completely silent.

“You’re giving an attitude,” he breaks the silence between you and him as the silence happens way too long. You cock your eyebrow and glance at him slightly before looking back at the window.

“Excuse me?” you say—trying not to sound annoyed or pissed even honestly, you want to scream.

He exhales some air before tilting his head at you, looking at your obvious frustrated face. You can feel his big hand snake on your exposed thigh, giving it a slow rub while the other hand is on the steering.

“May I know, why is my girl acting up like this?” he sounds calm and serene—unlike you. You push his hand away from your skin without looking at him.

“Focus. I’m not in the mood, Jinyoung,”

You see his face changes, from the corner of your eyes but you don’t care. The least thing he can do is stop being such an asshole at this moment. You don’t want to talk, not to him.

“Why are you always acting up without reason at times like this?” he says through gritted teeth as he clenches his jaws. You can’t believe he just said that.

“What? Me?”

“Yes, you,”

“Are you serious? I said i’m not in the mood. Just drives us home and leave me alone, Jinyoung. You’re such an asshole,” you can’t help your anger anymore when he is pointing the arrow back at you. Sure, he said something harmless but at times like this, everything pisses you off. You’re fucking pissed when he stares back you like he did nothing.

Before he could say anything, he stops the car at the side of the road. Your eyebrow furrowed at his gesture as you look at him, confused and pissed. Jinyoung looks back you, completely mad.

“Alright. Why don’t you tell this asshole, your problem? For fuck sake baby, I don’t know if you don’t tell me,” he runs his hands through the hair, sounded frustrated at your moody ass tonight.

You shrug.

“I don’t know. Ask Irene,” now, you know you sound like an immature bitch but you don’t care. He is being such an asshole.

“Irene?” he cocks his eyebrow.

You don’t reply anything.

“What does Irene has to do with this topic?”

He is dumb.

“That’s fine, Jinyoung. I want to go home. I’m tired. Let’s talk about this later,,” you heave a small sigh, rubbing your head as you ignore his question because you don’t feel like explaining the little anger in yourself now. Or both of you will get into a serious fight. You just don’t want him around.

You look at him and his eyes changed. They are darkened and hooded—the same eyes when he is mad and pissed.

“Fucking sit on me now,” he commands. Your jaw drops at him as he unbuckle the seat belt around his body. Which part of going home that he doesn’t understand?

“Jinyoung! I don’t wan—“

“I said sit on me. Make me repeat and I’ll make you regret,” his eyes burn with fire, you can see the popping veins along his jaw and neck. You’re not sure why but he looks fucking delicious.

You heave a frustrated sigh as you unbuckle the seat belt before you climb all over him and sit on his lap—facing him with your back only few inches away from the steering wheel.

Both of you stare at each other before you look away from his eyes when you can’t contain the jealousy and anger in yourself every time you think of what happened earlier. It upsets you so much that you can feel your heart is aching.

“Now, fucking tell me why you’re behaving like you miss my cock,” he utters the words as he brings both his hands on your hips—looking up to find your eyes. You hiss at his touch, making his eyebrow lifted.

“I’m so pissed,”

“You can’t be pissed in this dress. Definitely not in this dress that makes me want to fuck you hard,” Jinyoung trails his eyes to your neck, your exposed chest and to your ass. You know he is good at dirty talk because you can feel butterflies all over your stomach.

You scoff at him.

“Sure but I think Irene wants you to fuck her harder than me. Sure, Jinyoung,” you can’t look at him on the eyes as your heart hurts at the thought. You try to get off from his lap before you feel his grip tightened around your hips.

“I see,” he nods.

“Baby, are you jealous?” he looks at you, hiding his beautiful smile behind his bitten lip.

“Yes. Very much,” you stare back at hiim—telling him how deep the pain and jealousy is.

His smile gets wider.

The silence starts to build between you two before he speaks up.

“Everyone can see that she wants you. Don’t tell me you didn’t notice that,” you roll your eyes, annoyance starts to build when you think of her. Jinyoung hides his smile.

“Do you believe that?” he asks and you had it enough. You squeal at him, to let you go back to your place and end this night but he wouldn’t budge as he grabs your hips tighter to keep you on his lap.

“How do I make you realise that I’m all yours?” he squeaks, rubbing your clothed ass along with your inner thigh, causing you to whimper softly.

“Fucking you here, in this car?” he whispers before he leans closer to your body and starts to trail sloppy kisses on the sweet spot while he chants the dirty words. You can’t help but squirm at his touch as you bring your hands to hold on to his shoulder.

“Jinyoung, don’t,” you whimper at his touch even deep inside, you know you want this more than him. He chuckles at your words.

“I can feel your juices on my thigh, then you’re telling me no? Such a cute kitten,” he bites the soft skin on the collarbone as he calls your favourite pet name. When you no longer can hold the sudden excitement in your body, you start to grind on his thigh, rubbing your pussy on his thick thigh. It makes him groans, in pleasure while staring at your pussy. He grunts in frustration when the thin underwear covers the red pussy.

“Jinyoung....,” you moan his name and he hums at your calls while bitting his lips. His eyes darkened when he can see your red pussy under the thin fabric underwear. He must be thanking God for letting you to wear such a short dress so it makes it’s easier for him to hover the pussy.

“Oh my god,” he grunts as he pulls your hips, to make the move becomes faster and wilder, eventually growing the huge bulge that is starting to touch your throbbing clit. You moan out loud at the touch, throwing your head to the back while keeping the same pace on his lap as he pulls your closer with his big hands The feeling—so fucking good. The car is filled with hot breath from both of you.

“Ah!” your breath hitched when you can feel a familiar knot inside your pussy and abdomen—making you to look at him while moaning his name. He likes it when his name comes out from your mouth when he is abusing the pussy. He feels like a sexy dominant and he will make sure the scream gets louder when he finally pumps his cock inside you.

“How the hell I want to fuck her harder when I have this pussy, wet and juicy—just for me? Tell me how, baby,” he whispers, rubbing his index finger on your clothed clitoris, circling and pinching it while looking at your moaning mess face, when you’re coming to the climax.

He hisses—completely mesmerised at your beautiful cunt.

“Ah! Jinyoung!” as he rubs your clit and forcing you to grind on his huge bulge, you let out a small squirt on his jeans—soaking it wet with the juices. He hums in approval—licking the liquid around his finger while staring at you, like a provocative beast.

“Sweet cunt,” he says while chuckling.

“Is that enough?” he adds, cocking his eyebrow at you. You pant on his shoulder, slightly confused at his question.

“I want more,” you whisper. Needy and desperate, completely different than you were few minutes ago. His chest vibrats as he giggles.

Before you could say anything, he lifts the hem of your mini dress and pulls it to your chest—leaving your boobs bounce to his sight. You squeal in surprise. In just a blink of eyes, he unclasps and throws your bra to the back seat. You look outside—you sure don’t wanna let anyone see you this erotic.

“Fuck,” his eyes darkened when he brings his eyes to your boobs—chanting a trail of curses before he gropes them, roughly. Your body jerk at the touch, making the boobs bounce.

“You’re fucking beautiful, do you know that?” he says before taking one of your nipples into his mouth—sucking the bud hungrily. Your chin is up—moaning even louder than before as you press your body closer to him—deepened his mouth to your hardened bud. Your run your hand through his hair while the other one, holding on the car seat.

Every words that come out from his mouth, sounds like an ecstasy and it’s making your cunt pools with liquid. Skin tingles a lot and all you wanted is to feel him inside your body. He hums, biting the nipple, causing you to fill the car with his name. His warm and playful tongue—goddamn it feels like heaven.

“Jinyoung, get inside me,” you whine like a kitten when he pulls from you. You can see a boyish grin all over his face as he stares at you like a motherfuckinh predator. Your pussy clenches at the sight.

Before you could say anything, he trails his fingers to the strap of your panty before he rips it—exposing the raw pussy to his eyes.

“Oh my god,” you scream. He giggles, throwing the panty to the passenger seat as he slaps your ass.

“I’ll buy you a new one later,” he whispers, staring at the pussy as he gives it slow stroke. You whine at the touch. It’s slow and addicting, now you suddenly miss his big cock.

Impatient, you push him against the car seat before you unbuckle the belt around his jeans, slightly pull the pant to his knees—leaving his boxer alone. He says nothing as he let you get the touch of his cock by yourself. When you see the throbbing bulge, you immediately pull the boxer—making his dick slapping your lower abdomen. You moan at the contact.

“Come, baby. Do whatever you want to do,” he gives a small kiss on your neck before he leans against the seat to let you take over. You catch his eyes for a few seconds before you look down and starts stroking his member from up to down, smearing the pre-cum all over the veiny cock. He groans at your soft touch, making you look at him while bitting your lower lip—seductively.

Jinyoung throws his head to the back, slapping your ass over and over again as you please him. His dick is damn big and hard—you wonder how would he feels like inside this tight pussy of yours? Your cunt is screaming for the fill.

After few more strokes, you stop. Lifting your ass up while you rub the tip of his cock on the wet entrance, increasing the sensitivity. Both of you and him moan like crazy. Slowly, you sit down on him—completely burying his dick inside your tight and slippery pussy—causing you to scream to the air. Jinyoung hisses, breathing hard as he looks down where his dick get buried.

“Goddamn. You take my cock so well,” he moans, gripping your juicy ass so you can move in sync with him. You hold on the car seat while the other hand is palming his chest as you start to ride on his dick. Jinyoung has been really big, why the hell he makes the sex feel so damn good even you already had hundred sex with him? You open your mouth and moan while staring at each other’s eyes.

“I’m your kitten,” you whisper, bouncing up and down on his dick—slapping his balls with your ass like tomorrow doesn’t come. He chuckles.

“Yeah. My kitten,” he bites his lower lip, grabbing your breast in his big hand and squeeze it roughly. A gush of air leaves your lungs at the sensation. You scream his name.

“Jinyoung! Ah!” your body jerk. The sound of slapping skin fills the car, you’re very sure the car is shaking like hell. But, your mind is too busy to think about that. His big cock in your tight cunt. What a perfect combination.

“Fucking sexy. You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life,” he grunts through gritted teeth as he gropes the breast while he watches you humping on his dick. You moan like a mess. Throwing your head to the back, know nothing but his dick. When he notices your move becomes slower, he grabs your hips and quickened the pace up and down. Letting your wet pussy coating his member with white substances.

“Ah! Baby!” you leans forward and breathe on his neck, moaning, whimpering while he takes over. Jinyoung grunts in every thrust. He will make sure your pussy will be swollen.

“Fuck me harder, baby. Harder,”

“Of course,” he grunts. The pace quickened and the thrust deepened—making he hits your G-spot over and over again with no mercy. Tears prick on your eyes. It feels so good. So damn good being in his embrace while he is pumping inside you.

“Good, isn’t it?”

“Y-yes. Ah! Please, don’t stop,” your body twitches.

“You’re the only one who can make my cock becomes this hard,” he whispers to your ears.

“You make me want to bang this pussy harder every time I see you,”

“So,” thrust

“Fucking” thrust

“beautiful,” thrust

“and,” thrust

“hot,” thrust

He thrusts in every words. You scream erotically and pant heavily on his sexy neck. Your legs becoming weak and shaky as your move starts to be sloppy.

“Even Irene can’t make me this horny. Only you. I’m all yours, baby girl. I’m yours,” he kisses your shoulder, still taking your pussy while chanting endless I love you’s. You can’t help but feel extremely loved. Sex is great but his words and reassurance—oh it brings you to another wonderland. You moan his name, moving your hips to reach the climax.

Breath hitched, endless moans, steamy car and rising chests.

“Jinyoung...” you calls him.

“Cum inside me,”

He chuckles, staring at you as you pulls away from his neck—pumping for few more times as you can feel his dick is twitching inside you. You clench around him—making him groan like a beast.

“Oh fuck, you feel so good around me,” he moans and growls when your pussy clench around his cock. His breath hitched and shorten.

“Ah! Ah!” a lewd moan escapes your mouth when he pumps his cum inside you, making your body bouncing and jerking at every shot. Your nails claw on his chest , bitting down the lower lip while you stare to his darkened eyes. The eye contacts—so sexy. You scream as you reach the intense climax. Jinyoung grunts while he keeps grinding your ass on his cock to fill every part of your pussy with his warm semen, making it drips out of the pussy and wet the seat.

You bury your face on his neck, nuzzling his strong scent while panting hard—to let yourself calm. That was amazing. You didn’t know sex in car would turn out this good and hot. The car is filled nothing but steam from your and his hot breath.

“I have my favourite kink now,” he says, stroking your back—tracing his slender fingers along the spine, sending you an adrenaline.

“What is it?” you squeak, tired from the intense fuck.

“Car fuck. I should fuck you at the back seat next time. Let’s see how loud your scream is,”

“Asshole,” you slap his chest playfully and it receives another sweet laughter from him. He knows you’re joking.

When you both finally calmed down, you clean the mess on his seat before you climb back to your seat, looking completely mess. Smudge make up, missing panty, throbbing and swollen pussy. Jinyoung is a beast.

As the car starts to move, he glances at you as he pulls your dress to see the pussy. His raspy voice starts to fill the car.

“Keep the pussy wet. I can’t wait to eat your sweet cunt when we get home,”

“So, you know nothing but my name and my cock,”

follow me for thirsty smuts *winks*

#park jinyoung #jinyoung #jinyoung smut #jinyoung smuts #got7 smut #jinyoung fanfic #mark tuan #jackson wang #jaebeom #jaebum #bambam #yugyeom #youngjae #got fanfic #smut #kpop smut #2020 #got7 smuts

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deepseavibez · 3 years

Text

Wave of Want_1 || KSJ

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Part 1

... maybe the past liked to visit too much and shadows were not as harmless as we thought. - A/N

Word Count - 2k

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It was a humid night. No breeze, no noise, no people, but then Town Road Plaza was not supposed to be busy at ten in the night - only you were. The hustle and bustle of the crowd around here usually died down by eight. Then the shops closed, cleaned and prepared for the next day. You’d waved off almost every acquaintance that worked in the kiosk across from your shop, and your neighboring clothing and accessory shops.

You would have joined them, but your supplier delivered your new selection of hats and caps late and they were set to be displayed and sold to customers for the new week. You had just recently got promoted too. Beside it being another achievement on your ladder of success, it has also added to your set of responsibilities.

There would be a huge backlog should it not be ready.

Plus, you weren’t one of those people where work was something to run away from. You loved your job and your life, no matter how much it actually did suck sometimes.

But it was all about dealing. And for the people around you? No way were you going to sport a sad face or a negative attitude when your loved ones needed you. You played your roles; good daughter to your dad, a motherly big sister to your baby sis and a best friend to the ones that you chose to make family.

You lived on a line of careful balance, where emotion was important, but logic helped you stay alive. You could cry, as long as you smiled after. You could scream and shout, as long as the voice of reason made an appearance at the end, and you could love and love and love so hard, but walk away when it just was not worth it.

Placing the last cap on the mannequin head, you sighed – a combination of relief and acceptance because it was too late to visit dad and Bee, but on the bright side, work was done for the night.

Turning away from the rich toned racks of matching jackets, coats and blazers you headed in the direction of your office. You didn't usually spend a lot of time in here; always hands on, a people person to the core, love for your job and your store always had you on your feet. It was a bit of a killer when heels were a norm, but beauty was painful.

Your desk had your laptop, a few bills and orders and a photo frame of your family. Smiling with a heavy heart, as the fleeting memory of your mom brushed past, you looked down at the light blinking on your phone.

Picking it up off the desk you typed in the passcode and noticed the notifications all coming from Twitter. The pop up detail showed it was from your girls.

It was not always about just being a fan on Twitter. There were a number of people you had met online and trusted with parts of you so deep you did not know they existed. That's what made it close to every person's heart.

They spoke about problems, family, life, languages and travel, talent and interests and hobbies. And everyone could be themselves. Anything could be said, whether it was about sex, about softness or even just about food, it was all meshed together by an emotion you wouldn't think to find on a social media group chat with everyone halfway across the world from each other, and that was love.

Total unconditional, uncompromising respect, love and support. And it was real. It felt real.

Right now the chaos was about a concept photo drop from a kpop group. Tapping on the Twitter icon, your notifications were wild with funny reactions and online screaming at how good the pictures and ideas looked.

Searching for their usernames you giggled at the responses. Your friends replies were exactly like their personalities.

Josie was the smallest of the group. She was the one that held the most power in tugging on the protective reigns of every one of them.

School being her worst enemy she still worked hard, still took up hobbies and interests and she had so many of them. She was so kind, really and there was a need in you to always stick around Josie.

Watching her grow up, adapt, be better than her original self and take care of her. Because every one of your friends here, were younger then you, but Josie was closest to your baby sisters age. And your heart could never say no to a feeling so old and embedded in your heart, to shrug it off would be tearing yourself open.

Stevie was the crazy one, but crazy in the most admirable way possible. Nothing stopped her; nothing and no one. She was eccentric really, her selfies at angles and moments no one would think to put out there, her messages and replies so on another perspective it was a need to have her around.

And she had a spine of steel - a literal spine of steel. Everyone had days honestly, but Vee was so strong, you wouldn't even notice something had happened. And that was scary, the people with the steely exteriors, needed the most love. And damn did they love showing it in their own way.

Believe it or not there were campaigners for Stevie being president. You knew there would be war if that actually ever happened, but hell; you'd just pull up a chair and a glass of wine and watch the show unfold.

You really would protect them, because what else did you need in the world except for the few good-hearted friends that could be a comfort in your world.

Eyes catching the clock in the corner of your screen it now said 10.30pm.

Getting lost in Twitter was a whole struggle.

Putting your phone back down and shutting down your laptop, you packed up to get ready to go. Making to grab your charger you found it not in its socket. Eyebrows scrunched up in confusion you looked around.

Where -

A fleeting memory, your eyes blew wide in realization, as you did a backtrack to help you remember. It was in the kitchen last. Macy had used it, because she forgot hers at home.

You scrunched your face up in disdain. She was always using your stuff. Whining about how your make-up was flawless and she couldn't apply it like you. She wanted your face creams and commented on your choice in clothing - it was the bomb apparently. You knew this already and Macy was on thin ice, you only had so much tolerance.

‘Stupid, bitch.’ You muttered and suddenly thought of Josie, because she would have definitely called her that.

Shaking your head with a smile, you figured you’d grab the charger when switching the lights off and locking up the back.

A loud scraping signified a chair being moved. The noise startled you. You held your breath, the laptop bag flap held in midair as you questioned if you actually imagined it or not.

There it was again.

Eyes blown wide, confusion plaguing your senses you tried to think over the dangerous thud of your heart. The only chairs were in the kitchen, but you were the only one left at the store.

'Hello?' You shouted. 'Is anyone there?'

You internally cringed at the question.

Like anyone would actually answer, the fuck

Partially recovered, you woke up slowly, the need to investigate overpowering fear.

Sending a silent prayer up for sanity, you looked around you. Eyes catching the light flashing on phone in your hand, you turned it over and saw the missed calls and messages coming through on the screen, one after the other. Opening the chat, you read the messages and got even more confused.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬You couldn't answer him right now, what if someone was actually here. You hoped that wasn’t the case, but if it was, he did say he was on his way.

Locking the phone, you clutched it tightly, trying to ignore the tandem of your heart. This was your store, your baby. You couldn't just run out. You were caught. You didn't want to make him worry, and you were scared, but this was your responsibility.

Trying to feel convinced from your thoughts you noticed the slight click in your black stiletto pumps. Kicking time off slowly, you adjusted to the cold of the tile seeping to your bare feet.

Atleast your toes looked pretty, freshly manicured in a pale pink.

Shaking your head to focus on the task at hand, you chided your stubbornness and ran a hand through your hair. You needed to think about how you would defend yourself and - you did a double take as you turned your head; attention caught on the the broom in the corner. You grabbed it and held it in front of you, as if preparing for war, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself to stop being a chickenshit and move.

Cautiously leaving your office and walking as close to the edge of the wall as possible, you tiptoed your way to the kitchen.

Walking to the last room in the hallway wasn't supposed to be this creepy; you had done it so often and at later times than this. But today your hair stood on end. You had to walk there, because you had to lock up. And the knives were in the goddamn kitchen.

Blood thundering in your ears, you leaned into the wall, hands clutching the handle of the cheap broomstick to your chest, you neared the open door of the kitchen.

Closing your eyes in a silent prayer, you huffed a breath and turned.

'Hyaaaahhhh!' Swinging wildly with the broom, you hit the air, the only sounds being the battle cry coming from your throat and the background hum of the running refrigerator.

You stopped and took in the empty room before lifting yourself from your almost crouch, and acted as composed as possible.

Eyes darting from left to right twice before being satisfied enough, your mood elevated. Pssht, no one's here. The broom shook in your hand however, a telltale sign of the blood rush in the minutes of heightened emotion.

The kitchen was compact. Cream coloured walls, a refrigerator and grey table with four wooden chairs; granite, grey counter on the wall in front of you next to the fridge and white cupboards below the counter.

Shaking your head at the empty room, you aren't going to die today, you told yourself, your lips curving down in the lame attempt to humor the situation.

You turned. 'Oh God! Fuck!'

Catching your reflection in the mirror on the far side wall, at the worst time possible you clutched at your heart. Shaking your head, you rolled your eyes at the overreaction.

'Breathe y/n, for fucks sake.' Grabbing your charger from the table, with a little more force than necessary you turned on your heels, and switched the light off before padding, barefoot to the doorway. Closing the kitchen door behind you, you grabbed the key on the door and twisted it.

No more randomly moving chairs for the rest of the night.

Breathing now evened out and the dead silence of night your only companion, you were ready to go home to your warm bed and open loving arms.

You sighed, a small smile gracing your lips at the reminder of the love of your life.

An ear blistering shriek left your mouth as you felt a heavy weight on your shoulder, a second later. The hand that caused it, twisted off as you spun around so fast it would have given anyone watching you whiplash.

Shaken and terrified you had the end of the broom pointed at your would be assailant.

'What the fuck are you doing here?!'

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#Wave of Want #bts #bts seokjin #kim seokjin x you #seokjin au #kim seokjin x y/n #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin #kim seokjin x reader #bts fanfic #bts aus #bts au fanfic #deepseavibez

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foularcadebanana · 4 years

Text

The Guide to being a fun-er and cooler uncle by Jiang Cheng (or how to become more like Wei Wuxian)

Finally I have finished writing the fic for the last prompt of the Untamed Fall Fest 2020. Day 31-Wei Wuxian. I know I’m late, but this fic was huge and the idea was a big one. I still haven’t done one for the Day 1 prompt and the idea I have is similar but at the same time very different for that one.

Thank you so much @fytheuntamed for arranging this amazing fest. I had so much fun participating in this and writing so many different fics. I feel like writing a fic every day for a month had really helped me grow as a writer. So here is the fic. I hope you all enjoy it!

Summary: Where after having an argument with Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng decides to become a much cooler and more fun uncle. Or the one where Jiang Cheng decides to become a better Wei Wuxian than even Wei Wuxian could ever hope to be.

READ ON AO3 (This is a really big one guys)

It began during an argument with Jin Ling of all things. It wasn’t even an argument. Jin Ling was being a particularly insolent brat on that day of all days. Ever since he had become a Sect Leader, he had started to talk back to Jiang Cheng and disagree with him more and more.

Jiang Cheng wondered how people could think they were alike since Jiang Cheng had never dared to speak up against his parents when he had been a teenager. But then again, he had never really had the best relationship with them, and he liked to think that his relationship with Jin Ling was better and that they were a bit close, if nothing else.

All of that changed during that one argument. “Why not?” Jin Ling asked, and Jiang Cheng could tell he was resisting the urge to stomp his foot. “Lan Sizhui’s going and so is Lan Jingyi, even Ouyang Zizhen’s dad is letting him go.”

“You’re not like them though, are you, A-Ling? You’re a sect leader now, you have more responsibilities,” Jiang Cheng tried to explain through the headache he was getting.

“I know that, Jiujiu, but can’t I go just this once?” A-Ling asked, and Jiang Cheng sighed. “I’ll be back as soon as—”

“That’s what you said the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that. You can’t keep making excuses to get out of Koi Tower and avoid your responsibilities and duties to the sect. If you tell your friends, I’m sure they’ll understand and change their plans.” Jiang Cheng replied, keeping his tone firm.

He couldn’t let Jin Ling wander off wherever he wanted and let him have his way every time. He needed to understand that things changed when you became a sect leader, and you had a duty to protect your sect and its people. He wished that things could have gone differently for Jin Ling, and Jiang Cheng was trying his best to not let too much burden fall on Jin Ling’s shoulders, but Jin Ling had to try too.

Jin Ling crossed his arms and pouted like a child. “I’m sure if I’d asked Wei Wuxian, he would have allowed me to go. He lets Sizhui go anywhere he wishes whenever he wants. I’m sure if he had been my guardian he would have wanted me to go have fun.”

Before Jiang Cheng could get the chance to respond, Jin Ling stomped away from Jiang Cheng’s office, closing the door behind him a bit too harshly. Jiang Cheng couldn’t muster up the energy to shout at him for it.

He wanted to go behind Jin Ling. He wanted to pull him back and order him, ask him to please take back his words. If I’d asked Wei Wuxian, he would have allowed me to go. If he had been my guardian, he would have wanted me to go have fun.

A knot formed in Jiang Cheng’s stomach and he tried to swallow the lump in his throat. But he wasn’t there for you, A-Ling. He was dead for sixteen years while I— I suffered. I tried my best for you, but I guess it still wasn’t good enough.

It had never been like this with Jin Guangyao, it had been different with him. With him, Jiang Cheng had never felt the pressure to compete, to be the best uncle he could be because he had known that he already was.

Jin Guangyao may have had the emotional sensitivity that Jiang Cheng lacked, and a way with words. He may have had his advantages, but Jiang Cheng had known that the way Jin Ling had called out to his ‘jiujiu’ was never the same as when he had talked about his ‘xiao-shushu’.

Jiang Cheng had seen the way Jin Ling had brightened up every time he had been in Jiang Cheng’s presence. He had never mouthed off to Jin Guangyao the way he had to Jiang Cheng, and still did.

People had always said that Jin Ling behaved like Jiang Cheng, his personality, and the way that he acted being remarkably similar to Sect Leader Jiang’s. Jin Guangyao had never stood a chance.

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand… Jiang Cheng had once loved him dearly (still did, even if he denied it profusely) and had always been competing with him for his entire life. For the affection of his father, for the satisfaction of his mother, he had competed against Wei Wuxian with everything he’d had, he had worked so hard and practiced and practiced until he had been a bleeding mess on the floor, but it had never been enough.

And then Wei Wuxian had taken everything from him, including his free will. Now here he was, promising to take another important part of his life. One that Jiang Cheng had been growing and cherishing for sixteen years. Wei Wuxian hadn’t even done anything really, and yet, here Jiang Cheng was, already losing this battle of acquiring nephew’s affections. How long had Wei Wuxian been back and alive for?

Didn’t Jin Ling hate him? Or at least mildly dislike him? Jiang Cheng couldn’t lose to Wei Wuxian already. Sixteen years, dammit. He was going to win this competition against Wei Wuxian. He was going to come out on the top and be a better uncle than Wei Wuxian. The cooler uncle. The best uncle he could possibly be!

He needed to be a better Wei Wuxian than even Wei Wuxian could ever hope be.

Jiang Cheng stared into the mirror, looking at himself properly. He wasn’t going to start dressing like Wei Wuxian, obviously. He wasn’t obnoxious enough to wear all black, and he quite liked his purples and navy blues. What he was going to try though, was to smile like Wei Wuxian. So, he looked into the mirror, staring at his mouth.

But no matter how much he stared at it, he could not turn his frown upside down. He sighed and pressed his lips together, glaring at the mirror. How did a person smile, again? He tried turning the edges of his lips up…UP. But they just wouldn’t move. He groaned. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t even smile like Wei Wuxian could. How could he hope to become a better uncle than Wei Wuxian if he couldn’t even smile for his kid?

This was a great start.

It was just a week later that he found himself in the Cloud Recesses. Jin Ling was going on a night hunt with the rest of his friends and Jiang Cheng was going to spend the night in the Cloud Recesses after a meeting with Hanguang-Jun.

So, he stood outside the entrance of the Cloud Recesses with Jin Ling, who was about to leave for the hunt. Jiang Cheng knew what he had to do. Project WWWWD (What Would Wei Wuxian Do) was about to begin.

“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng said, his hands twitching at his sides. He was sweating and red in the face, wasn’t he? He was sure Jin Ling was giving him a weird look. Jiang Cheng could do this. All he had to do was lift his hands and give Jin Ling a hug, just like he’d seen Wei Wuxian give all of the juniors. Jin Ling had avoided his. But he wouldn’t avoid Jiang Cheng’s hug would he?

Jiang Cheng lifted one hand. Jin Ling looked at it. Jiang Cheng swallowed and cleared his throat, putting the hand on Jin Ling’s shoulder and patting him. “Have fun,” he said, just like Wei Wuxian had said earlier. He tried to smile like he had practiced in the mirror.

“Jiujiu, are you okay?” Jin Ling was staring at him worriedly. Jiang Cheng nodded his head, letting his hand drop and a frown settle on his face. He expected Jin Ling to say ‘goodbye’ and ‘see you soon’ before sprinting off to join his friends, but instead he waited, as if expecting Jiang Cheng to say something more.

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to ask to check Jin Ling’s pouch and ask him if he had carried all of the necessities with him, his clarity bell, and the flares and…

Taking a deep breath, Jiang Cheng asked, “Is there a problem, A-Ling?”

Jin Ling seemed to search Jiang Cheng’s features before he shook his head. “No. I guess I should get going.” The kid had his lips pursued as he turned around and walked slowly over to his friends.

Jiang Cheng watched him take a few steps forward before he swore under his breath and gave up. “A-Ling!” Jin Ling turned back with a hopeful expression on his face. “Take care and stay safe.”

Jin Ling’s face brightened, and to Jiang Cheng’s surprise, he walked back to Jiang Cheng, pulling his pouch out of his robes. “I will, Jiujiu.” He opened his pouch in front of Jiang Cheng with a serious expression on his face. “Here, look. I’ve packed everything……”

After Jin Ling had finished showing Jiang Cheng all of the items in his pouch, had pointed to his clarity bell, attached to his waist, and had shown Jiang Cheng his supply of flares, he was gone with his friends waving and enthusiastically saying goodbye to Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng watched Jin Ling disappear and sighed. He had failed in the first step of his project. He hadn’t even been able to chill out like Wei Wuxian and let Jin Ling have fun. He’d had to check up on him. Well, he would not anymore. He turned to look at Wei Wuxian, who was sat on a rock, looking up at the moon.

As Jiang Cheng passed by him, Wei Wuxian’s head whipped around to look at him. “Do you think we should go behind them? I think we should trail behind them for this hunt, just in case.” Wei Wuxian said, and on the surface, the words seemed innocent and harmless enough. But Jiang Cheng knew better.

He narrowed his eyes at Wei Wuxian. Subtly trying to steal his nephews love and earn the spot as his most favourite uncle was one thing, but this. This was too much.

“Oh, haha, Wei Wuxian. Very funny. Let’s make fun of Jiang Cheng for being concerned about his nephew and being cautious. They’re teenagers, you know, and even if they don’t think so, they still need someone to look after them. That includes Jin Ling, even though he’s a sect leader now. So, I don’t appreciate you making fun of me for that,” Jiang Cheng answered and stomped off after he had finished his rant, ignoring Wei Wuxian’s calls to him.

Phase two of the plan to win Jin Ling back and be the cooler uncle involved going to Koi Tower. Jiang Cheng took the day off and went there late into the morning. As soon as he opened the door to Jin Ling’s office, he was greeted with a surprised “Jiujiu!”

Jin Ling stood up and rushed over to Jiang Cheng, who tried not to eye the messy pile of letters Jin Ling had left on the table. “A-Ling,” he said, greeting Jin Ling with a nod of his head, and a slight curve of his lips. He was trying, okay? At least Jin Ling seemed like he was glad to see him. That was a start, right?

“Jiujiu, what are you doing here?” Jin Ling asked. Jiang Cheng understood why. He didn’t really come visit Jin Ling at Koi Tower unless there was a meeting, a conference, some type of a celebration, or if Jiang Cheng believed that Jin Ling needed his help with something, or Jin Ling called him over for an emergency.

One of these things happened at least once a month and Jin Ling visited Lotus Pier often enough, so it wasn’t as if Jiang Cheng needed to casually go over to check up on the kid. But he was there now, for an extremely specific reason, and Jin Ling was curious.

“Well, I was hoping we could go out and do something fun,” Jiang Cheng said. Take that Wei Wuxian. Who’s the fun uncle now?

Jin Ling’s entire demeanor changed as he straightened up and gave Jiang Cheng a serious look. “Is this some kind of a test, Jiujiu?” A test? Jiang Cheng frowned. “Because I’ve been working very hard on the upcoming night hunt I have to arrange for all of the elites in the Jin sect. The elders have been on my back for weeks, and if you’re wondering why I haven’t responded to the letters, it’s not because I’ve been wandering around with my friends. I’ve just been so busy—”

“I know,” Jiang Cheng interrupted, feeling guilt gnawing at his insides. Was this the kind of uncle he was? One that put Jin Ling into such an anxious and frustrated state even when he suggested doing something fun? He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I know how hard you’ve been working, A-Ling. I’ve never doubted you. That’s why I was thinking that maybe we could get away from here and do something fun. It’s up to you, we can do whatever you want.”

Jin Ling stared at Jiang Cheng. He seemed to be searching Jiang Cheng’s eyes again, or maybe searching for the right words. Jiang Cheng didn’t know what he had said to make Jin Ling turn speechless. Did Wei Wuxian not speak like this to Sizhui? Or Jin Ling? He didn’t know. He was betting it was something much, much more sentimental.

Jiang Cheng scowled at the thought that Wei Wuxian had one-upped him in this too. “Jiujiu?” Jin Ling was biting his lower lip, deep in thought. “Could we maybe do that later?” Jiang Cheng blinked. What? “First, could we— well, now that you’re here, I was hoping that you could help me with arranging the Jin hunt. Please, Jiujiu? I’ve been working so hard and—”

“Alright, let’s take a look at it,” Jiang Cheng agreed. Jin Ling’s whole face lit up as he practically dragged Jiang Cheng to his worktable to take a look at what he had come up with so far.

Jiang Cheng blinked and listened as Jin Ling spoke rapidly, ranting to Jiang Cheng about everything all at once. Everything Jiang Cheng had missed so far, everything the elders had told him, everything Jin Ling had incorporated into his arrangement of the hunt so far, and all of the things he planned to do.

To Jiang Cheng, Jin Ling looked not like the capable Sect Leader that Jiang Cheng knew he had become, but like the tiny child who used to pull Jiang Cheng through the entire Lotus Pier to look at a flower he had seen or a bird or a butterfly, anything that had caught his attention, really. He reminded Jiang Cheng of the Jin Ling who, every time he had come to Lotus Pier from Koi Tower, would hold Jiang Cheng’s hand in his pudgy, little one and go off on a rant, rapidly recalling everything that had happened at Koi Tower.

And maybe, phase two of his plan had failed too, maybe it hadn’t. Jin Ling had said that they could go have fun after they had arranged the night hunt, but Jiang Cheng was sure that A-Ling really couldn’t care less about it.

Maybe that was Jiang Cheng’s problem. He was too hard on the kid. Maybe he should ease up, loosen his leash, and show a little more trust and belief in Jin Ling. Like Wei Wuxian tended to do.

“Jiujiu, you should come with us.” Jiang Cheng blinked as Jin Ling looked at him. Go with them where, again? He had almost dozed off while Jin Ling had been having a conversation with Jiang Cheng and his friends, and of course, Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng felt like he somehow got less sleep as he became older, and surely enough there would come a time in the future where no one would let him get any sleep at all.

“Hmmm?” Jiang Cheng casually asked.

“To the lake nearby!” Jin Ling said, clapping his hands excitedly. “We could go for a swim.”

Jiang Cheng just wanted to get some rest, but he turned to look at Wei Wuxian. WWWWD—What would Wei Wuxian do? Wei Wuxian was nodding at the plan approvingly which meant that Jiang Cheng would have to do the same.

He tried to hold in his sigh. “Sure. That sounds like a great idea.” Jin Ling blinked and narrowed his eyes at Jiang Cheng, as if he had said the wrong thing. But Wei Wuxian seemed pleasantly surprised.

“Are you sure, Jiujiu? You look tired, and I saw you kind of dozing off in the meeting earlier.” Jin Ling said. Damn that kid and his observation skills. Maybe he could blame that one on Jin Guangyao?

Jiang Cheng searched for a response. What would Wei Wuxian say? “Ah, A-Ling, it’s fine. I’m fine. I can sleep after we come back, but I wouldn’t want to miss this.” A smile. Jiang Cheng should go for a smile right about now. He felt his lips twitching upwards, but he couldn’t see himself, there was no mirror around. Was he smiling?

Jin Ling’s eyes widened, and he looked stricken. Was that the kind of response people got when they smiled? Was he doing this right?

“We…should go,” Jin Ling said.

As they reached the spot near the lake, Jiang Cheng noticed the shade under the trees. Maybe coming here had been a good idea after all. Jiang Cheng could get some rest while the boys had some fun. Wei Wuxian was there to keep an eye on them, or not. But Jiang Cheng most certainly wasn’t going to pay them any attention. Just like he had promised himself.

He could also get to spend some time with A-Ling like this, and he wouldn’t keep bugging Jiang Cheng to try to meet up with Wei Wuxian. He was in his presence now, and that would have to be enough.

Spreading out a blanket for himself on the grass, Jiang Cheng lay down under the shade of the trees and closed his eyes. He had kept the picnic basket which contained warm food a bit of a distance away from him, but still on top of the blanket.

Jiang Cheng let himself relax. He felt the breeze gently caressing his face and his hair, and he allowed himself to finally fall asleep….

“Jiujiu!” Jiang Cheng startled awake.

“Jiang Cheng, Jiang Cheng!” Wei Wuxian called out, and Jiang Cheng heard the urgency in his voice.

“What is it? Who’s hurting you? Where’s the dog? What’s wrong?” Jiang Cheng immediately stood up, alert.

“It’s Jingyi and Sizhui. We were just playing in the lake and they both got hurt and almost drowned, but Wei Wuxian and I saved them.” Jin Ling told Jiang Cheng. While Jin Ling’s tone remained calm, Jiang Cheng could see the worry and concern on his face. “They need your help, Jiujiu.”

Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, could not seem to stand still, hopping from one foot to the other and hovering around the two boys. As Jiang Cheng walked towards them, he noticed that the boys were both sitting upright and coughing. Ouyang Zizhen seemed to be rubbing their backs, the smart kid.

“Do something, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said in a panicked voice. “Look at them. I almost lost Sizhui a second time! I think they might have a concussion. Jingyi’s looking a bit pale—”

“They’re going to be fine, Wei Wuxian. Stopping jumping around and help me.” Jiang Cheng snapped, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. This was great. Wei Wuxian was acting like a child. He felt like the only adult around. At least he could still count on Jin Ling to help.

Jiang Cheng saw that Sizhui’s knees were scratched up and immediately pulled out a few creams and lotions along with a bandage from his pouch. The lotions would help Sizhui’s sea sickness and help clear both the boys’ lungs of water. Lan Jingyi did not have a concussion, but he had a bruise on his forehead. Jiang Cheng pulled out a pack of ice for him before closing his pouch.

After tending to both the boys and giving them instructions, with Jin Ling sitting right next to him and adding a few pieces of advice of his own, and Wei Wuxian still hovering around them, Jiang Cheng thought it would be best to go back to his blanket. He had done what he had been asked to do. That was enough, right?

Jiang Cheng felt almost proud of himself, as he pulled warm food out of his picnic basket for everyone. He hadn’t even given the boys a single lecture. He was getting the hang of this cool, fun uncle thing.

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling said. He standing next to Jiang Cheng and conveniently blocking out the sun. Jiang Cheng watched him as he looked down and fidgeted with his fingers. What was wrong now? “I’m sorry.” Jiang Cheng stared questioningly at Jin Ling. “You were right. You’re always right. We should have been more careful. I didn’t know Sizhui couldn’t swim, and the tides were very strong. It was stupid, Jiujiu, and I know that I was being irresponsible. It won’t happen again.”

Jiang Cheng blinked up at Jin Ling. He hadn’t even lectured Jin Ling this time, but he had somehow still received an explanation and an apology. He hadn’t even said anything and yet, here A-Ling was doing the talking for him, saying words in response to everything that Jiang Cheng wanted to say to him.

Sighing exasperatedly, Jiang Cheng tugged on Jin Ling’s arm, making him sit down beside him. “It’s alright, A-Ling. I’m glad you’ve understood your mistake, and I’m sure you’ll be more careful from now on.” There. His response had been short and sweet. Wei Wuxian could get wrecked!

What was Wei Wuxian doing anyway? Jiang Cheng looked over at him. Wei Wuxian seemed to have gone mad, making wild hand gestures as he spoke loudly. Sizhui seemed to be trying to placate him, as if the idiot were angry at the kid and not concerned for him. Jiang Cheng scoffed. Who was the cooler uncle now?

Looking back at his own nephew, Jiang Cheng was puzzled by the hidden disappointment he found in Jin Ling’s eyes. “Jiujiu, why aren’t you getting angry at me?” Jin Ling softly asked.

Jiang Cheng was even more confused now. Hadn’t Jin Ling wanted this? Hadn’t he wanted Jiang Cheng to be just like Wei Wuxian?

What would Wei Wuxian say? “A-Ling, you are a grown-up now. You’re managing to look after an entire sect all by yourself, aren’t you? Then it wouldn’t do for me to treat you like you’re still a child, to shout at you or get angry with you. You’re a responsible and mature individual now, and I’m sure you can take care of yourself. You don’t—” Jiang Cheng cut off and cleared his throat, immediately looking away.

He swallowed the emotions threatening to spill over. You don’t need me to take care of you anymore. You have Wei Wuxian here with you if you need a fun, cool uncle to spend some time with.

“A-Ling. Why don’t you call your friends and your idiotic uncle over to have some food before it goes cold?”

Jiang Cheng found himself going on a night hunt with the juniors and Wei Wuxian soon after that. He knew that this would be difficult. It would be hard for him to keep his cool and stay calm if a monster came at the kids, especially at Jin Ling, but Jiang Cheng would try. For A-Ling.

He was even keeping his distance, walking right next to Wei Wuxian, who was at least a few steps behind the juniors. Jiang Cheng sighed, tightening, and loosening his grip on Sandu. He wanted to ask Wei Wuxian how he did it, how he made everyone like him so much. How he inspired the loyalty and devotion of the people around him instantly.

Maybe he got it from his parents, or maybe he got it from Jiang Cheng’s parents. Either way, Jiang Cheng hadn’t acquired that particular personality trait. Maybe it was the smile that did it. That bright, blinding smile that made people instantly melt, no matter what had just happened. Then it made sense, because Jiang Cheng had never learned how to smile like that, had he?

A sudden gurgling sound tore through the silence of the night and Jiang Cheng instinctually looked over at Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian was looking back at him. He gave Jiang Cheng a quick nod, and Jiang Cheng could feel Zidian slowly beginning to flare up, could feel the itch in his hands to unsheathe Sandu. But he straightened up, took a deep breath, and decided to watch as the juniors handled the monster by themselves.

It was after all just one monster. They would be able to handle it wouldn’t they?

“Jiujiu!” Jin Ling called, his eyes flashing over to Jiang Cheng. Be supportive. Trust him. Tell him that you believe in him.

Jiang Cheng gestured with his hands and gave a small smile. “It’s alright, A-Ling! I believe in you.”

Disbelief flashed in Jin Ling’s eyes before he joined the rest of the juniors in fighting the monster. There, it seemed like Jiang Cheng had done a good job. Now all he had to do was stay away from the fight and let Jin Ling and the rest of his friends handle it. Easier said than done.

“Jiang Cheng, what are you doing?” Wei Wuxian hissed. Jiang Cheng blinked and turned to him. Wei Wuxian had a desperation in his tone and this look in his eyes that Jiang Cheng hadn’t seen since he had been resurrected. “Why aren’t you helping them?”

Jiang Cheng scoffed. Was Wei Wuxian serious? Was this some kind of a trap to knock Jiang Cheng down a few pegs so he could never achieve the title of a cool, fun uncle? Well, Jiang Cheng was not falling for that. “Why don’t you go help them?”

Wei Wuxian gave Jiang Cheng the same look of disbelief that Jin Ling had.

“You’re the one who has Sandu and Zidian. Why would I use Chenqing on a single monster?” Wei Wuxian asked. Jiang Cheng could not understand what was wrong with him. Why was he acting like Jiang Cheng had to be the one to handle this hunt? The juniors were handling it just fine, weren’t they?

“There are four of them, Wei Wuxian. I’m sure they can handle a single monster,” Jiang Cheng replied, pointing at the monster, who was apparently already dead. “See, I told you.” Jiang Cheng felt like the coolest, fun-est uncle ever in that moment.

But before Wei Wuxian could respond, a second monster ran into the clearing, and Jiang Cheng held his breath as he realised that it was going straight for Jin Ling. Jiang Cheng was ready with his sword and Zidian, he was ready if he felt like Jin Ling was in even the slightest bit of danger. But the kid looked at the monster running towards him, unsheathed his sword smoothly, and in one clear move, pierced the monster straight in his heart. Jiang Cheng couldn’t have felt prouder.

As Jin Ling pulled the sword out from the monster’s chest, blood spurted all over his face and body. He groaned. “This is just fucking great!” He exclaimed, lifting his hands up in the air.

“Nice aim, Young Mistress.” Lan Jingyi said. As the rest of his friends gathered around Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng suddenly remembered how to breathe again.

“That was close,” Wei Wuxian muttered, with another expression Jiang Cheng didn’t remember seeing on his face since the resurrection, or maybe since Guanyin Temple.

Too close, Jiang Cheng thought as he rushed over to Jin Ling.

“A-Ling—” Jiang Cheng said, and something throbbed in his chest as Jin Ling’s expressions turned grim and more serious.

“It’s all right, Jiujiu. I’m okay. You don’t need to— You were right. I can handle these things myself,” Jin Ling said, his voice a little harsh as he walked past Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng stayed frozen in place. Jin Ling had never spoken to him like this before. What had gotten into him? A small voice in Jiang Cheng’s mind said that this was the way Jin Ling spoke to Wei Wuxian. So, was it really a good idea to try and be more like him?

But it’s what A-Ling wants. A-Ling likes him. Jiang Cheng sighed. He didn’t understand what was wrong. What had he done wrong?

‘A-Ling, what’s wrong?’

Something was wrong with Jin Ling. Jiang Cheng knew that. Ever since they had gone on the night hunt, Jin Ling had been acting different. More distant. And Jiang Cheng didn’t know what he had done wrong.

It had been a month, and Jin Ling hadn’t come to visit him in Lotus Pier. He hadn’t met him or found a reason to call him to Koi Tower, and Jiang Cheng just wanted to know what had happened. What had Jiang Cheng done wrong? He had tried to be like Wei Wuxian. He had tried to be fun and laid back and cool. Was that still not enough? Was Wei Wuxian still a better choice than him? Better company than him?

Of course, he was. Jiang Cheng didn’t know what he had been thinking. Trying to be like Wei Wuxian had only confirmed one thing for him, that he could never be him. No matter how hard he tried, he could never evoke the same sense of loyalty and devotion as him. Jiang Cheng had never been and could never be likeable or fun or cool or anything good.

He just had to surrender the title and spend the rest of his life knowing that he would be Jin Ling’s angry, temperamental, strict uncle. That Jin Ling would only come to him because he had to. When he had no choice.

‘If I’d asked Wei Wuxian, he would have allowed me to go. If he had been my guardian, he would have wanted me to go have fun.’

And now that Jin Ling was a Sect Leader, he didn’t have to come to Jiang Cheng anymore. He had a choice, and it was even better now because he had Wei Wuxian. Another uncle. A better uncle.

Jiang Cheng sighed, putting his head in his hands. Fuck all of this, he missed his kid.

He missed having Jin Ling around, walking into his office to interrupt his work every once in a while. He missed Jin Ling pulling pranks on him, and Jiang Cheng getting so angry that he would threaten Jin Ling by pulling out Zidian. Jin Ling would retort by mouthing off to him.

He missed having the kid insist that they sit together for lunch and dinner and all of their meals, and having him insist that they go to the training grounds to train together or because he wanted Jiang Cheng to teach him a particular technique or to show him something he had recently learned.

He just missed his A-Ling. Jiang Cheng rubbed at his eyes, roughly wiping away his tears.

“Jiang Cheng!” A sudden voice called out, making Jiang Cheng look up as his office door banged open. It was Wei Wuxian. What was he doing—

“You need to come with me to Koi Tower. It’s Jin Ling.” Wei Wuxian was a mess, and Jiang Cheng’s heart was in his throat.

“A-Ling, what—” He’s alive. He has to be alive.

“He’s got a fever, and he’s calling for you. Please. I don’t know what to do,” Wei Wuxian pleaded, looking helpless in a way that he had never seemed before.

Jiang Cheng relaxed slightly as Wei Wuxian’s words sunk in. He already had Sandu unsheathed and was marching outside with Wei Wuxian. “How long has he had the fever? Why didn’t anyone tell me? How did you get here?”

“He just got it this morning, but he didn’t tell anyone because he thought it was nothing. We only noticed when it spiked this afternoon. It’s a good thing I was there at Koi Tower with the rest of the juniors. I came here on Suibian as fast as I could.”

Jiang Cheng looked at the sky as he stepped outside the entrance. It was evening now. He swallowed and hopped onto his sword, pulling Wei Wuxian onto it before he could protest.

As they flew into the sky, headed towards Lanling full speed, Jiang Cheng swallowed. “What were you doing there?”

“Oh,” Wei Wuxian seemed hesitant to speak. “Jin Ling needed some help with some things, so he called me.” Of course, he did. Why would he call me when he has you? “It was no big deal, Jiang Cheng. He knows that you’ve been busy and he just didn’t want to cause you more stress.”

Jiang Cheng snorted. That was easy for Wei Wuxian to say. Everyone actually wanted him around. He was everyone’s first choice. So where did that leave Jiang Cheng?

They flew in silence for a few moments before Jiang Cheng remembered what Wei Wuxian had said as soon as he had burst into his office.

“You said that A-Ling was calling for me,” Jiang Cheng spoke. A knot tightened in his stomach at the thought. He imagined a feverish Jin Ling calling out for him, and for a moment, he couldn’t breathe. They had to go faster.

“Yeah, he— he had a high fever and he kept murmuring your name in his sleep. Kept saying he needed his jiujiu, even after he woke up. We found him fainted in his office in the afternoon, y’know.” Wei Wuxian said.

Jiang Cheng gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. This was all his fault. He should have been there for A-Ling. He should have visited him. He should have—

Koi Tower appeared in Jiang Cheng’s vision and he almost leapt off his sword.

“A-Ling!” Jiang Cheng pushed open the door to Jin Ling’s room. “A-Li—”

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling spoke. He was sitting up, leaning against a soft pillow. He seemed fine. Jiang Cheng’s posture slumped slightly. “What are you doing here?”

Jin Ling looked surprised. As if there was no need for Jiang Cheng to be there. Well, fuck that.

“What do you mean what am I doing here?” Jiang Cheng asked as he strode over to stand to Jin Ling’s side. “Am I not allowed to enter my nephew’s room? Who are you to demand answers from me when you cannot even take care of yourself?”

Jin Ling blinked at Jiang Cheng, and a tenseness that Jiang Cheng hadn’t even known Jin Ling had been holding in his shoulders, disappeared. “I—”

“I don’t show up for a few weeks and you forget you have another uncle!” Jiang Cheng knew that he was getting worked up over nothing. It was just a fever; it was supposed to be nothing. But he’d had enough. Jin Ling not taking care of himself was the last straw and all bets were off.

If being Jin Ling’s temperamental and strict uncle would mean that Jin Ling wouldn’t get hurt and that Jiang Cheng could protect him, then Jiang Cheng would happily take that title back. “You forget you have another home and just decide to not come visit Lotus Pier. Not only that but you don’t even write me letters! You think you can get rid of me that easily, you brat?! Huh?

You think you can just keep things from me and not have me find out about them? Well that’s too bad because I’m going to find out anyway! And I’m going to come nag you about them. I made a promise to your mother and father to take care of you, and I’m going to keep that promise!”

“Jiujiu,” Jin Ling looked at Jiang Cheng with a soft look in his eyes, and as he coughed, Jiang Cheng was reminded that the kid was sick. He had a high fever.

Jiang Cheng sat down with a frown on his face, taking the wet cloth lying beside A-Ling and dipping it in the cold water kept in a bowl. Gently squeezing the cloth, Jiang Cheng kept it on A-Ling’s forehead. He touched the back of his hand carefully to Jin Ling’s neck and his cheeks. The kid was burning up.

“Jiujiu,” A-Ling said a little more meaningfully. He grasped Jiang Cheng’s hand in both of his own and held on.

“A-Ling,” Jiang Cheng whispered softly. He swallowed the bile rising up his throat. “What were you thinking? Why didn’t you call me here?”

“I thought—” Jin Ling looked away from him.

Jiang Cheng used his sleeves to wipe the sweat off of Jin Ling’s cheeks and neck before keeping another wet cloth on the neck. “You though what?”

“That you didn’t care anymore,” Jin Ling muttered. What?!

“What?” Jiang Cheng gaped at Jin Ling. What had given him that idea? “What made you think that?”

“You— you started acting really weird, Jiujiu. You didn’t ask me to stay safe and take care during night hunts anymore and you didn’t tag along on this recent one until I asked you to, and told you that Wei Wuxian was coming too. You didn’t demand to see what I’d kept in my pouch or check if I’d packed the flares and tied my clarity bell around my waist. You came over to Koi Tower to visit me but you didn’t ask about the elders or how my sect leader duties were going. I had to ask you to help me instead.

When we went out to the lake to take a break, instead of keeping an eye on us or joining us, you just fell asleep. When you found out that Sizhui and Lan Jingyi were hurt, you just tended to them and walked away. You didn’t even ask if I was okay, you weren’t even mad or angry at me, and you didn’t even shout at me or tell me to be more careful. You just— You just didn’t care!”

“A-Ling—” Jiang Cheng’s heart hurt to see his kid in so much pain. There were tears in Jin Ling’s eyes and he had gone red the more he had spoken. But he wasn’t done yet.

“And then during this recent night hunt, you didn’t even come to help us. You just stood there and watched! Even when that second monster was about to kill me.” Tears fell from Jin Ling’s eyes and he turned to look away from Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Cheng firmly held Jin Ling’s face in his hands. He wiped away Jin Ling’s tears with his thumbs.

“It’s like you don’t even care about me anymore.” Jin Ling brokenly whispered, and Jiang Cheng wondered how they had gotten here. How had they reached this point of almost no return?

It was because Jiang Cheng was a fool. “A-Ling, that’s not true. You know that. You know how much I care about you. You’re the most important person in the world to me.” Jiang Cheng said softly.

“Then why were you acting like that?” Jin Ling demanded. “Why were you acting like— like Wei Wuxian?!”

“Hey!” Wei Wuxian protested, but neither of them paid him any attention.

“I thought you wanted me to act that way,” Jiang Cheng said, and Jin Ling blinked at him confusedly. Jin Ling looked so tired that Jiang Cheng just wanted to pull him into his arms and sing to him until he fell fast asleep. “You told me to, remember, when we fought a while ago. I didn’t let you go out with your friends so you said that Wei Wuxian would have allowed you to go. You said that he lets Sizhui go anywhere he wants and that you wished he were your guardian. So, I— I tried to be…more like him.”

“What?!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed. “Jin Ling you wanted me—”

“No!” Jin Ling almost shouted. “That wasn’t what I meant. Jiujiu, I was angry and frustrated. You never usually take me that seriously. What happened this time?”

Jiang Cheng tried to hold back the tears that sprung into his own eyes. “I just…I just wanted to be the fun and cool uncle that you wanted me to be, A-Ling. For once. I wanted you to— I didn’t want you to—” choose Wei Wuxian over me “—hate me because I couldn’t be as amazing as Wei Wuxian.” Jiang Cheng let out a sharp breath, feeling like a shard of broken glass was stuck in his chest. Breathing hurt.

“Jiang Cheng…” Wei Wuxian spoke, but Jiang Cheng didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear the pity in his brother’s voice.

But he didn’t have to, because Jin Ling spoke up in response. “Well, I was lying you know. Wei Wuxian lets Sizhui go wherever he wants but only because he goes with him. Just like he follows us on night hunts and brings out his flute any time anyone so much as breathes. He says it’s because he wants to teach us things, but he just makes us do things on our own and plays pranks on us. And he’s a shitty teacher, Jiujiu. He’s nowhere near as good as you are.

And every time anything happens to any one of us, even if it’s a scratch, he just freaks out. Especially if it’s Sizhui, cause Sizhui always gets hurt. He tries to reassure Wei Wuxian, but it just ends up with the both of them hugging each other and saying they love each other.” Jin Ling made a disgusted face.

“And if, unluckily, any one of us gets hurt so badly that we start crying, then he begins to cry too, and then so does everyone else. I’m the only one who just sits there wishing that you were there too. Because I know if you’d have been there with us then you wouldn’t have cried, you would have actually done something to help us.” Jin Ling scowled as he looked at Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng had never loved the kid more than he did in that moment. Without even thinking about it, Jiang Cheng hugged Jin Ling tightly. “I missed you so much, A-Ling,” he admitted.

He heard Jin Ling swallowing heavily. “I missed you too, Jiujiu.”

“I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care. That promise I told you I made, to take care of you and always protect you. To never let any harm come to you. That wasn’t just a promise that I made to your parents, A-Ling. That was a promise that I made to myself first. And I intend to always keep it.”

Jin Ling brushed away more tears as they appeared and leaned in to hug Jiang Cheng again. “I’m sorry too, Jiujiu. I never should have said those things about Wei Wuxian. You are a fun and cool uncle. At least for me, you are. And I don’t care what anyone else thinks about you, they can fight me if they want. I don’t want you to change, Jiujiu. I don’t want you to stop caring about me. You’re the best uncle. Wei Wuxian is the lame one.”

“Hey!”

“I will never stop caring about you, A-Ling.” Jiang Cheng promised. He pulled the kid into his arms and softly caressed his hair. He was hot with fever, and they were surrounded by Jin Ling’s friends, and Wei Wuxian, but Jiang Cheng could care less. “Sleep, A-Ling. I’m here. I’ve got you and I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

Jin Ling melted into Jiang Cheng’s embrace, closing his eyes and sighing softly. “Okay, Jiujiu. Goodnight.”

“Night, A-Ling.” Jiang Cheng murmured.

“You know,” Lan Jingyi spoke up. “I think Sect Leader Jiang is a really cool uncle, too. Remember when he patched us up at the lake, Sizhui? Wei Wuxian just stood by and did nothing.” This Lan kid was really starting to grow on Jiang Cheng, he wouldn’t lie.

“I remember,” Sizhui spoke up with a smile.

“And I’ve heard tales of Jin Ling having fun at Lotus Pier, so I think he might be a really fun uncle too.” Ouyang Zizhen added. Had Jiang Cheng mentioned what a smart kid he thought the Ouyang heir he was before?

“Hmm, he might be,” Sizhui agreed, making Jiang Cheng narrow his eyes. He could spot the slight smirk on the kid’s lips. “We’ll just have to see proof of that then, won’t we?”

Jiang Cheng blinked at that. Had Lan Sizhui just invited himself to Lotus Pier that easily? Wei Wuxian really had been the worst influence on the kid.

“What is happening here? Are you forgetting that I’m the fun, cool uncle here?” Wei Wuxian dramatically said

Jiang Cheng shook his head and smiled to himself.

“Oh my god, look at that. Sect Leader Jiang is smiling.”

“He is. How nice.”

“He looks so handsome when he smiles.”

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes, his cheeks flushing at the comments made by Jin Ling’s friends. As he looked down at his nephew, who was fast asleep in his arms, he realised that the last part of his project was complete. He could smile like Wei Wuxian after all, and charm those around him.

He had already inspired the loyalty of an entire sect, the Yunmeng Jiang sect, and the utter, complete devotion of his nephew somehow. Jiang Cheng supposed he had just been too blind to notice it until now.

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