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floshoe · 11 months

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You Mean Everything To Me

warnings; fluff, angst, talk about death, medical stuff, violence, injuries, bad parents

summary: you save Yelena’s life and in return she becomes your everything.

pairings; Yelena Belova x Fem! Reader, Wanda Maximoff x Pietro Maximoff x Half-Sister! Reader, Avengers x Fem! Reader

a/n: i am IN LOVE with this picture 😍

It wasn’t until later in life that you found out you were only born because of your moms' infidelity. So, when you looked back on your childhood it made sense. You guess that you were just a reminder of her biggest mistake. (It also didn't help that you looked so much like your father) So instead of getting parents, you got to watch your parents love and cherish your half siblings.

And as a you got to the toddler stage, you started to resent your siblings, and that led to fights and tantrums, which, in turn, lead to punishments.

Wanda and Pietro never got punished, even when they started the fights: they stole your toys, pushed you, teamed up on you, and when they broke something, they blamed it on you. Which meant you spent most of your time sitting in the corner facing the wall.

They were the angels of the house who could do no wrong. Because you weren’t even supposed to be born. They made that fact very clear as you got older.

So, the night that your parents died wasn’t the worst day of your life, you never wished death upon them, but you couldn’t be as upset as your siblings.

But when it came to HYDRA, they wanted you to go with them. You’re still not sure why, but they did and sometimes you’re not completely sure you’re happy they did.

So on and so forth Ultron happens and while you were fighting robots Pietro got killed saving clint’s life. And for some reason Wanda blamed you for it.

“Why didn’t you stop him?!”

“I didn’t know he was going to do that! I wasn’t even near him, why didn’t you?!”

You two didn’t talk for a long time after that. Yes, you were saddened by his death; but you couldn’t be as sad as Wanda because you practically had no relationship with him.

But the Avengers still accepted you as a part of the team. Until once again Wanda poisoned your only friends against you just like when you were kids. You don’t know how she does it, but she always managed to make you look like the bad guy.

And once again you were isolated into a corner, all alone with no one to pull you out. The final straw happened on your last mission as an avenger.

Your job on this mission was basically to just keep the enemies busy while Steve tried to save the undercover agent he was sent to help escape. You were doing well, your powers making it easy to do it. Or so you thought.

You were so caught up on what was in front of you that you didn’t notice some of them coming up from behind you. They made you lose focus, and your powers caused the whole building to collapse.

You killed the undercover agent and all the information they had gathered. And almost killed Captain America.

That was when you swore off using your powers, you had almost killed an avenger. You had killed someone. And your powers got too out of control, so you didn’t trust them anymore.

That was the last straw, after that mission no one ever trusted you again and you were banned from missions. But that night you just packed up and left, you were no good to them otherwise; and it’s not like they’d miss you.

And that leads to you now, in a decent apartment in New York City, currently trying to decide what to do for dinner. Pizza or mac and cheese were your options tonight.

You eventually decided on pizza and made your way out of your apartment. Grabbing your coat on your way out as you decide on where you want your pizza from. You decide to head to your normal place and relax for a while. It’s been a while since you’ve had a relaxing night.

Not too long after you left the avengers you went into nursing school, helping people had always been a passion. Which was why you were so happy to be a part of the avengers. You’ve been a nurse for about a year now and you’ve loved it. You’d given up on friends a long time ago; who would want to be friends with you anyway?

Sure, it got lonely, but you just got to live your life without restrictions.

You were walking home when you heard someone breathing heavily in an alley way. Your nursing instincts pushed you to investigate, so you slowly walked into the alley, but not before grabbing your taser.

You don’t walk too far in before you see a blonde in tactical gear sitting against the wall struggling to breathe. It doesn’t take too long for you to put the pieces together.

She’s Natasha’s sister.

Before Natasha turned on you, she had told you about her sister. The one she had left behind in the Red Room. Which made you nervous about her intentions when it came to her seeing you. But then you remembered that the Red Room had been taken down but the two widows. (You saw it on the news.)

So, you can only assume she was with the avengers now and this had happened due to a mission. You see that she’s not conscious. you worry about her not making it, so you get her to your apartment.

You lay her down on the guest bed and run to your bathroom to grab your things to help her. You felt weird unzipping her suit but when you did you continued without remorse because she had been stabbed more than once and she was probably close to bleeding out.

It took at about 2 hours to stitch her up completely, she had some cuts on her legs and arms too. Along with some bruises, she won’t feel good tomorrow. You help her into some of your clothes and shut the door behind you.

The next morning you wake up early and see she’s still asleep. Which makes you feel better because she could try to kill you in your sleep if she woke up first.

You’re alerted to her waking up when you hear a groan from the guest bedroom. you slowly make your way to the room, knocking on the door.

“Hello?” her accented hoarse voice calls.

You slowly open the doors with your hands up, not knowing how she’ll react.

“Who are you?” her accent heavy in her words.

“My names y/n,” you tell her.

“What am I doing here?”

“I found you in an alley almost dead so I brought you here- to my apartment to help you.”

Her demeanor shifts a little bit before she tries to get up, “you really shouldn’t-”

“Don’t,” she cuts you off. “I don’t know who you are, but I need to leave.” She tries to get up but as soon as she sits up the sharp throb of the wounds shoots through her, and she falls back onto the bed. “What did you do to me?”

“You mean what did I do for you? I saved you from bleeding out in that alley Yelena.”

Her defenses shoot back up, stronger than before, “how do you know my name?” The coldness in her voice almost makes you shiver.

“I used to be friends with your sister, Natasha,” you tell her.

“What? how?” her confusion evident in her features.

“I used to work with the Avenger, I don’t know if they told you about me.”

She shakes her head.

“I’m y/n Maximoff, Wanda’s sister.”

“I thought she only had a brother,” Yelena says.

You scoff, “of course she just completely erased me when I left- anyway you should probably stay here for a little while so you can recover. I don’t want to be the reason that the famous black widow’s sister dies.”

“Why did you work with the Avengers? Did you have powers like Wanda?”

The mention of your powers makes you freeze, “you should eat something. mac and cheese, okay?”

She just stares at you, so you leave the room to make the food.

Yelena got a weird feeling when you checked her wounds, it took a lot of convincing, but she eventually let you.

You used nothing but care when you touched her, touches so soft she almost thought she was imagining them.

“You never answered my question,” Yelena whispers.

“Hm?”

“Do you have powers like your sister?” she asks.

“Yeah... yeah I do,” you hesitate.

“Why aren’t you an avenger anymore?” she asks again.

You sigh as you put on new gauze on her wound, “it’s a long story Yelena.”

“I have time,” she motions to her current state.

you sighed again and sat down at the edge of the bed, Yelena looking at you expectantly.

“I was never close to my family; my parents practically abandoned me as soon as I was born except i kept living with them. i honestly don’t know which is worse,” you start.

“To keep it simple I raised myself as I watched my parents raise my siblings. And when they died, we went to HYDRA for their experiments. And then after that we joined the Avengers Pietro died, our brother, and I made a mistake on a mission that got someone killed.”

Yelena’s brows raise, “was it an accident?”

“Yeah, but I killed someone, someone important and I was banned from missions after that, no one trusted me anyway, I wasn’t close to anyone thanks to Wanda, so I left.”

“What do you do now?”

“I’m a nurse, helping people just like I’ve always wanted,” you smile.

Yelena’s lips curve into a small smile, “Did you know who I was when you saw me in the alley?” you nod. “So, you know what I’ve done?”

“You mean what you were forced to do? Yes. But I don’t judge you for that,” you tell her.

“so, you aren’t scared of me?”

“Even if I was I would be able to protect myself, powers or not,” you tease.

“Mhm, I doubt that” she smirks.

“Maybe when you’re better we can test that theory,” you offer.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

The month Yelena spent with you was honestly one of the best months of her life. It was filled with friendly banter, teasing, and her making a new friend. Natasha hadn't tried to contact her because Yelena told her she was at a safe house for now. Natasha was reluctant to leave her be and demanded her location but Yelena being the stubborn woman she is refused to tell her. Only telling her that she'll be back soon.

She found comfort in the way you were able to calm her down if her mind kept her up. She was hesitant at first but the genuine worry in your eyes helped ease her worries.

those nights where she had trouble sleeping; you treated her with the upmost care. You offered to watch tv to help keep her mind off of her nightmares. she would inevitably get tired and fall asleep, and she would let her head fall onto your shoulder.

You honestly didn’t mind, you were just glad she felt comfortable enough with you to fall asleep, let alone on you. You just wrap your arm around her and her head leans onto your chest.

The next morning Yelena woke up on top of you on the couch, she immediately got up and went into the guest bedroom. The sudden movement had woken you up, “Yelena?”

You see her as she shuts the door. You didn’t see her for the rest of the day.

Later you learned that that was the first time she had ‘cuddled’ with someone and she genuinely didn’t know what to think of it. When it came to touch, all she thought was of how she had hurt people and how people had hurt her. So, when she woke up that close to you it had caught her off guard.

That’s you tried to help ease her more slowly into touch. You would sit closer to her on the couch and lean into her when something was funny, your hands would touch when you handed her something. Like your clothes since she had arrived here in her tactical suit.

Wearing your clothes also made it easy to be close to you, smelling your scent in the clothes she wore, on the bed she slept on.

She learned more about you in a month than any of the avengers had in the years you had as an Avenger, more than your own sister. you learned more about her too, her time at the red room, reuniting with Natasha, and even her time in Ohio.

As she got more comfortable with touch, she began to initiate it too, sometimes holding your hand when watching movies, or hugging you in thanks after you help her through some particularly hard nights.

You never expected a thank you, it was something that came easy to you: helping her.

And as she spent more time with you, she started to wonder why you never used your powers if you had them.

“Why don’t you use your powers?” Yelena asks as the two of you eat dinner together.

“Because i don’t trust them anymore.”

“Why?”

“Do you not remember when i told you that i killed someone?”

“It was an accident.”

“Someone’s still dead.”

She never asked about them again after that.

When Yelena was healed enough to leave you were honestly sad. You weren’t sure if she would come back. you were worried that if she asked them about you, they would poison her against you.

“Be careful okay,” you tell her as you part from your goodbye hug.

“I’ll do my best,” she teases. “I’m sort of an avenger so that’s not exactly unavoidable.”

“Oh, I know, just don’t die.”

She nods and looks in your eyes, “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

You sigh in relief, “good, because I don’t want this to be the last time either. I happen to enjoy your company, Belova.

“I also happen to enjoy your company Maximoff,” she smiles.

And that’s when the arrangement started.

After missions, you were the person she went to, not Cho, her sister, or even an Avenger. you.

The way you would take care of her made her heart skip beats. the care you had for her obvious when you would worry over her when she showed up hurt.

And when you weren’t at your apartment, she went to the hospital you worked at praying you weren’t busy. Of course, you were but you were always able to aid her.

“What happened to being careful Lena?”

“Getting hurt isn’t something that is easily avoidable, y/n/n.”

“I know, but it feels like I’m always fixing you up after every mission you have. you know you can come see me when you're not injured, right?” you tease.

she smirks, “I know I just barely have time to.”

“Where do they think you’re going?”

“I honestly don’t know, I just sort of leave and when they ask I do this,” and she shows her glare.

“Okay easy there, I don’t want to have a heart attack before I finish your stitches,” you joke.

She smiles and shakes her head.

This arrangement goes on for about 3 months before Yelena starts to realize her feelings towards you, they felt more than friends, but she didn’t know what that meant. And her only solution was her sister.

“I don’t know what to do about it, I can’t talk to her about it because she’s the one I have feelings for, and I can’t function around her. she thinks there’s something wrong with me when I can’t form a sentence when she looks at me or when she touches me, I don’t know what to do!” Yelena rants as she falls onto Natasha’s bed.

“Sounds like love.”

Yelena’s head snaps up, “what?”

“You love her.”

After that she starts analyzing her interactions with you, thinking about how she would feel doing this like cuddling, kissing, cooking together. She often smiles when she thinks about it.

And she’s not the only one struggling with feelings. You’ve had trouble with them since about a month into you being her personal doctor. You’ve seen the way she looks at you when you’re patching her up, it’s not that hard to notice considering she’s never had to hide this sort of feeling before.

The feelings came into light on accident, she had finally had time to just come see you without getting hurt. You guys decided to sit on the roof of your building and have dinner since the landlord had been able to decorate the roof with lights and furniture.

You sat next to each other on the couch and ate your dinner in a comfortable silence, you both had had long days and just simply being in each other’s company was enough.

And as the night went on, Yelena's mind drifted to what her sister said,

"You love her."

And after a you noticed she wasn't listening to you, you wave your hand in her face, "you okay there?"

She nods but that doesn't really convince you, "what's going on?"

She sighs and puts her bowl down and moves so her body is facing you. You mirror her actions and wait for her to talk.

"Do you ever get the feeling that this could mean more than we think it does?" She asks.

Her question throws you off guard, having not expecting this from her, "I mean, yeah, but I never thought that you would."

She furrows her brows in question, so you clarify, "Being more than friends with someone didn't really seem like something you wanted. You never really talked about anyone like that before."

"Because I've never felt like this before, and plus I wasn't going to talk about my feelings to the girl I like. Especially when I didn't fully understand them."

Oh. Well, that makes sense. Wait- "You like me like that?"

"Yes, isn't that what this whole conversation is about?" She giggles at you.

"Well, yeah, but I guess, I don't-" Yelena can't listen to you ramble any longer so she grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss.

It's unlike anything you've ever experienced before, the feeling of her soft lips perfectly fitting with yours giving you a feeling of euphoria. Yelena no different, this being the first kiss she's shared with someone she truly cares about.

You both pull away and rest your foreheads on the others', looking into each other's eyes. "We should do that more often," you breathe.

"Definitely."

The rest of the night was filled with longing looks, soft touches, kisses, and long talks about the possibilities for the future.

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It's about a year after you guys confessed your feelings for one another and it's been great, you’ve been able to see her a little more often since she hasn't been assigned to as many mission recently.

Your relationship. has gotten to a point too where Yelena wants to tell her sister about you. The woman who both saved and changed her life. But that didn't really go over well.

"Why can't you meet her?" Yelena asks.

"I already have remember? It didn't exactly go to plan," you remind her.

"I know but maybe it's okay now, it's been a few years," the ever-stubborn woman that you call your girlfriend points out.

"Please? You've become one of most important people in my life and I want to share that with other people. Show them how much we love each other." She walks over to you and wraps her arms around your neck.

"The last time I saw all of them wasn't pretty Lena, I don't want your relationship with your sister to be impacted by this," you plead with her. "Maybe someday, but I'm also not ready to see all of them again, especially my sister."

This conversation didn't lead to the result Yelena was hoping for, so she dropped it.

It's only a few weeks later when Yelena is sent on a mission that's supposed to last for a little while. As she's getting ready to leave you make sure to give her a good luck kiss. "Be careful, okay?"

"I always am," she gives you another kiss. "I'll see you soon dekta." And she grabs her bags and she's out the door.

It's only two weeks later when you see a distress call from Yelena, saying she's hurt. You immediately use your powers to teleport to where she is so you can help her.

You run around to try and find her, and when you do you see her laying on the ground similar to the way you had found her the first time.

You run over to her and try to figure out what happened. You see she’s awake and hold her face so she looks at you.

“Lena, baby?”

“y/n?” she groans.

“What happened honey?”

“Explosives,” her eyebrows furrow when she looks behind you and that’s when you hear a gun click.

“Get away from her,” the authoritative voice of Natasha Romanoff orders.

“Nat,” Yelena tries to tell her who you are but she’s too weak to do so.

“Get. The hell. Away from her. I won’t ask again.” she demands as she walks closer.

“She needs medical attention-”

“I know she does, now walk away so she can get it.”

Yelena looks you in the eye and slowly nods for you to walk away. “She isn‘t going to listen to you,” she whispers.

You reluctantly set her head gently against the wall and get up and turn around with your hands up per Natasha’s request.

When you turn around and she sees your face you watch as she recognizes you. “What the hell are you doing here?

“She needed help, so I came.”

She shakes her and puts her gun down to run to Yelena, she picks her up and takes her to the quinjet. Taking off without you. Yelena looks around for you but she can’t find you.

“Where is she?” she asks.

“Who Yelena?”

“y/n,” she whispers before she falls unconscious.

The next time she awakes she’s in the medbay with Natasha sitting next to her.

“Are you okay?” she asks her younger sister.

“Fine,” she says even though her head feels like it’s going to explode and her entire body is sore.

“How do you know y/n?”

Yelena looks at her but doesn’t answer. “Where’s my phone?”

“Why?”

“I need to call someone.”

There was really nothing you could do as you waited for hours for Yelena to maybe call you to tell you she’s okay. It’s the next day when you finally here from her. And she’s asking you to come to the compound so she can see you.

You agree. You’re there within a couple minutes but you’ve run into an issue. How do you get past the entrance. You try and teleport to where you think the medbay to be and hope.

You look up and see the room Yelena’s in. You quickly walk to her hoping not to run into anyone. You walk on the room and see Natasha and Yelena talking.

They both look up and Yelena smiles. “So, you’re the person who’s saved my sister life,” Natasha says.

You nod, looking at Yelena who motions with her hand for you to come closer. You walk over and she immediately grabs your hand with hers and you rub your thumb over her hand.

“You okay?”

“Sore, but yeah I’m fine.”

The moment is ruined as the rest of the Avengers walk into the room and see you. You tease and move to let go of Yelena’s hand but she holds yours tighter.

Tony is the first to acknowledge who you are and he doesn’t really react except for a nod. The rest of them do the same except for Wanda. She glares at you and looks down and sees you holding Yelena’s hand.

“You two know each other?” she practically hisses at you.

You nod.

“How?” Wanda asks.

You don’t really know what to say so Yelena tells her. She tells all of them how you guys met, you saved her life, became her person, patched her up after missions, and are now her girlfriend.

“So that’s where you go,” Sam realizes. He wasn’t an Avenger that same time you were so he doesn’t know about the grudge the others held against you.

“Why did you go to her instead of Cho or at least one of us?” Natasha asks.

“I felt safe with her,” Yelena admits. Her response making you smile even though you’re still have a staring contest with your sister.

“Wanda, it’s okay,” Natasha tries to tell her.

“No, there is no world where this is okay,” she growls at you and walks closer to you. “You have done nothing but make everyone’s life harder so do us all a favor and get the hell out of here,” she demands as her eyes start turning red.

“No.”

“No?”

“No! I’m tired of you bossing me around. First, you’re younger than me, second, I haven’t done a single thing wrong towards you m my whole life. Third, yes, I was born being our mother cheated on your father, but I have done nothing wrong except for being born. The only reason you hate me is because your parents did and their resentment towards me reflected onto you so you hate me too. I’m not going to be your punching bag anymore. I’m done!” You yell and watch as her expression falls and she leaves the room.

All that’s left is awkward silence left after your outburst but you haven’t felt this kind of relief in so long. You’ve had this pressure on your shoulders tour whole life and now it’s gone. You’ve stood up to someone, not who you really wanted to but this is as close as you’ll get, and let them know that how you were being treated wasn’t okay.

You look down and Yelena and see her proud smile as she squeezes your hand, happy that you stood up to your sister. The rest of the Avengers eventually leave and you sit in a chair next to Yelena’s bed.

You just take a moment to look at her, the strong, beautiful woman you’ve been able to call your girlfriend. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Your cheeks warm from getting caught and say, “I just love you.”

Her smile widens, “I love you too dekta.”

You stand up and cup her face, her hands lightly grasping your wrists as you lean in and kiss her lips. It having been weeks since the last time you were able to kiss the green eyed beauty.

You kiss a couple more times before you lean your forehead against hers.

“You mean everything to me,” and she smiles brightly with rosy cheeks and pulls you in for another kiss. Letting you feel nothing but the love she has for you, and you revel in the fact that you finally have someone who truly loves you.

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hope you enjoyed it <3

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh fluff #yelena belova imagine

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lovearne · 1 year

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treatment for a king

Konig x gn reader

Words: 4.4k

My page is 18+ only. I don't tolerate minors here. This is my safe place to express myself, and I don't consent to minors viewing my works or my blog.

Warnings: Konig is a brat, Dom! Reader, bandage, praise kink, oral m!reciveing, anal fingering, anal sex, vibrator, dildo, edging, Konig speaks German sometimes, fluff to smut to fluff, if I missed any please lemme know

Summary: Konig doesnt know how to ask to be your sub in bed, so he does what any other shy boyfriend would, try to annoy the fuck out of you until you snapped. In other words Konig trying to brat.

Happy anti valentines day

Support your fanfic writers by rebloging when you enjoy fic, a reblog and a comment always make my day

Konig loved to sit and watch you. He thought about you all the time, sometimes his thoughts were very impure, but most of the time, he was admiring you. Watching you was basically his favourite activity. It's actually how you two officially met. You noticed him staring, first you started to tease him, after a few weeks of non stop teasing, you went and talked to him.

Konig thought of those moments you'd tease him in public before the two of you even met. The vivid and short movements exaggerated to get a reaction from him. And the reaction was violent. He wanted to be with you. He wanted to be your boyfriend.

Today, Konig had plans to annoy you into tying him up. Be didn't know how to ask, and he felt awkward when he did last time. So he decided to get on your nerves until you decided to take care of him.

"Hey big guy." You greet, leaning down to kiss his cheek. He stays silent, moving his head away from your advances. You frown.

"Is there something wrong love?" You ask. Gently holding the arm that was infront of you. He stays silent again. You were getting really worried. You move to kneel in front of him.

His composure shakes a bit from the peripheral view of you crouched infront of him, but he keeps his eyes off of you. You gently place your hands on his thighs, rubbing them soothingly.

"Baby," His eyes finally look at you, instead of your eyes, he's looking at your hands. Imagining them bringing him to completion, his stomach tightens with desire. An idea comes to his mind. You don't know German. He could talk as dirty as he wanted to you.

"Ich möchte, dass du mir einen Kopf gibst." Your hands stopped, confused. Konig meets your eyes. "Ich will, dass du mich ruiniert." Your eyebrows drew together.

"Sweetheart," your hands start moving again. "I can't help you if I don't understand what you're saying." You remind him. "I want to help you." You watch as his scarred lip moves a little. His eyes were vibrant, they were intense, soul searching. They unnerved you a little, but you knew he'd never do anything to make you uncomfortable or to hurt you.

"Ich liebe dich." He mutters, his voice shaking a bit. You smile warmly.

"I love you too pretty boy." His face perks up. His mouth pulling at the scars, smiling genuinely at you.

"Du-"

"I learned it." His smile gets wide as he grabs your waist, pulling you into his lap. He can't contain the love he shows for you. His attitude doing a 180. His lips smash against yours, stealing the words from your mouth as you grab at his thick hair, one hand on his shoulder. When he pulled away, his voice was raw.

"Oh, I'm so in love with you." He claimed. "I couldn't have asked for a better partner!" He placed kisses all over your face. "Ich möchte dir einen blasen, bis du nur noch keuchen und stöhnen kannst." His voice was low against your ear. You furrow your brows again.

"I still don't know what that means." You say as you pull back fully to look at him. He just smirks and kisses the tip of your nose.

"You don't need to speak my language." He whispers. "It's hot, but you don't need to bär." You smile, the nicknames he gave you held a space in your heart.

"Ich libe dich könig." You said slowly trying to get the pronunciation right. His face went slack and his eyes focused on you. You've seen that face before, when you tied him up and edged him for hours. The look on his face after the session was over is very similar to the one he wears now. He was in awe of you. He loved you so much, and you speaking his native tounge made his heart beat fast.

"If you-" you cut him off with a sweet kiss. He melted into it right away, his tougne fervently trying to gain access to yours, yet your teeth never parted, your lips easily giving into his exploring tounge. He groans into the kiss, gripping the back of your neck, and pulling lightly, he detaches his lips from yours. "I'm so in love with you." He said honestly. You nod.

"I know Engel." You replied as you got up and walked to the kitchen. Konig threw his head back, groaning as the words went straight to his dick. He needed to up his game.

"Hey babe!" You cheer as Konig walks into the kitchen, he huffs. You frown. "Why are you mad baby?" You ask nicely. He huffs again. You sigh. "Baby," you grab his chest, trying to pull him to your level. "Tell me." Your voice left no room for argument.

"Nothing." He stuttered. You nod.

"When you're ready to talk to me. I'll be reading in the living room." You let go of the tall man, walking away.

Konig watches your backside as you walk away. His cock aching in his sweatpants. He needs to wind you up.

Konig turns the lamp off beside you. You scoff, mildly annoyed by this behaviour. He then takes the remote put of your hand when you try and turn on the TV. You raise an eyebrow at his quick movement.

"Konig." You warn lowly. He looks into your eyes. "Don't play with me." He smiles. There it is, he's on the right path.

You settle back in to read your book, when a loud tapping starts up. You look over your book and see Konig playing with two books, drumming them on the coffee table. You look back to your book, knowing that he stimmed, like you did sometimes.

Once he starts fidgeting in his seat, you put the book back down, laying so your legs had space for him.

"Hey, boyfriend, wanna come cuddle me?" He ignores you, normally he answers you. You thought it weird that he just ignored you. You sigh again. Konig could sure be quite the beat sometimes. Your mind paused. Did he want you to Dom him? The behavior he's presenting is very brattish, this is how he gets after not being taken care of the way he desperately wants to be. You smirk behind your book. A plan forming in your head.

You place your book down. "I think I'm gonna go for a nap. You gonna be a good boy?" You slip one of his spicy nicknames in passing. You see the glaze in his eyes, he definitely heard it. You watch as he nods. You smile. "Good boy." You walk upstairs, surprised not to hear him running up after you. You were a El to close the door without him even moving a muscle. You didn't lay down, you gathered the items you'd be needing to take care of your boy. Within five minutes you were all set up, now it's up to your boyfriend seeking you out.

He didn't come in until nearly an hour later, you heard his strides and steps, smiling at how purposeful they sound.

"Liebeling I-" His voice fell short. He stared at all the objects you set out. His face gaining a hefty amount of colour as he blushed. His eyes big and excited.

"We don't have to, I thought you may be acting off today because we haven't done this in a while. And I know you wouldn't ask." He's still standing there slack jawed. The amount of shock running through his system making him unable to move.

"How-" He cut himself off.

"You were being a brat, you don't brat very often." He nods. "Now, tell me. Do you want this? Yes or no? I'm not going to be upset either way." He nods, eagerly. "No baby, I need words."

"Yes, yes, please!" He said, you smile.

"OK baby, I want you down to your boxers and on the bed, yeah?" He nods. You raise your eyebrow.

"Yes liebe." You smile.

"Good boy." He smiles back at you. You watch as he takes off his clothes, leaning against the wall of your room. He quickly shucks off hist shirt, throwing it to the other side of the room. His pants are next, they get tossed in the other direction, little pebbles falling out that he must've collected during a walk. You giggle at the face he makes. His back slouches.

"I'm sorry liebe, I forgot they were in there." You smile.

"Baby," your hand reaches to his face. "You know I love you and your rocks." The two of you laugh together, faces just inches apart. Konigs eyes dart from yours to your lips. You smile even bigger. "You wanna kiss me baby?" His lips meet yours before he could hear anymore of your teasing. Whining into the kiss as you denied his tongue access, you smile even more into the kiss. Just as he was pulling away, you grab the nape of his neck and open your mouth to his. Your tongues met in a dance of passion, embracing each other as you both moaned at the contact. When it became too much for your lungs to handle, you pulled apart. Both of you panting, you nodded toward the bed.

"Wanna take this to our office baby?" You joked. He laughed, picking you up and manhandled you to the bed. He laid you down, him getting on top of you. "You know, if you wanted to Dom, you just had to say 'so pretty boy."

"No, I want you to." He says, words rushed, you giggle. "Just wanted to throw you around a little, it looks like you have fun when I do that." You lean up and kiss him. Sweetly caressing his lips with your own.

"I love it big guy." You hand was supporting his head as he leaned his full body weight on you. "Oh, looks like I got a weighted blanket, takin all my troubles away." He giggles. "I love you babe." You kiss his cheek. He hums.

"Love you too bär." You smile. "I wanna love you for the rest of my life." He whispered to you.

"Then do it big guy, love me for the rest of our lives." He giggles again.

You use the distraction to flip him on his back, you didn't know, but he helped you. He'd not ever tell you that.

"OK, baby. Are you ready?" He nods cutley. "Imma need your words. You wanna be a good boy, yeah?"

"Yes, please, wanted this all day." He answered. "I want you to take care of me." You smile.

"Oh, such a good boy. Using his words." You praise him, his body melting inti the bed. You take this oprtunity to attach the rope tied to bed frame to his wrist. Your hand softly wrapping the smooth rope around his wrist. His eyes were awestruck as he watched you.

"Always so good to me." He whispers, you smile again.

"Can't be hurting my baby, now can I?" You lean down and place a kiss where you were going to tie the knot. "He's too precious to be hurt." Konigs hand twitched at the contact and the comment. You wrap the rope, double wide on his wrists to ensure it doesn't tug too much, tying the knots where he'd be able to get out of them in an emergency. Placing a kiss on the insides of his palms, you move to attach the thin material on his neck. A pretty little collar, just for him. He shivers when the material slides on the skin if his neck.

"Doing so good for me baby, so patient. What a good boy." sensitive skin. Every touch of yours sending chills up his spine. Exciting him even more.

As you latched the collar in place, you left kisses on the base of his neck, moving up closer to his jaw, his neck is so damn long and soft. It bruises just perfectly when you leave love bites on it. You sucked softly on his sweet spot, his hips canting up, already done with your teasing.

“Plea- please bär. Please.” Konig begs, his hips moving, trying to find friction as you tease him. “N- need you.” His voice was soft and whiney, small moans coming out of his mouth. You smirk against his skin, skimming your hand down from where it held the base of his neck. It grazes across his upper chest, catching on his sensitive, and pierced nipples. Tracing the beautiful scars under his pecks, knowing that he loved the feeling of your nails on his chest. Your hand stopped, cupping the underside of his peck, scar in grasp as you thumb at his nipple.

“Ahh, please!” Konig pulls at his restraints, body jolting at the sensations of your wet kisses making marks all over his neck, and your thumb playing with his nipple. Your other hand keeps running down his abdomen, dusting across his hairy stomach, following the thickest smattering down and into his boxers.

His cock was hard agaisnt your palm, you smirk even more, feeling the wetness of his desperation, making it easier to stroke his cock. His natural lubrication was allowing you to pull your hand on his cock without chaffing it.

“bär! Oh ahhh, bär bitte, bitte bär!” His voice gives way as his whines surface. Each one making your stomach twist and your mind soar. The confidence you gained from doming your boyfriend was making you power drunk.

“Thats it, what a pretty boy you are. So pretty whining just from my hand.” You squeeze your hand to accentuate your point. “What a good boy.” Konig throws his head back, the moans dripping from his mouth like saliva. “Always such a good boy for me.” You were watching his face as you start to stroke his cock faster. Konigs pants getting harsher, his moans more breathy, you loved watching him come apart for you.

After confirming Konig was enjoying himself, you start kissing down his chest. Stopping right above his nipple. “Is this ok baby?” you ask. Konig doesnt answer, his hips bucking into your hand even more. “Konig,” you try and grab his attention, stopping your hand on his cock. His eyes imediatly darting to yours, surprised to find you close to his nipple. “Baby, is this ok? I need a yes.” He nods, eagerly thrusting his hips into your hand. “Baby. a yes or a no?”

“Ja, bitte ja ja ja.” You smile, your hand allowing him some reprieve and mouth attaching to his nipple. His moan in response was felt through your whole body and his, if he were more aware and with someone he trusted less he’d be embarrassed by it.

Your tongue swirls around the pierced bud, gently flicking it with the tip of your tongue, you smile as his breath hitches within a whine. Your cheeks pull, he can feel your smile against his skin. You suck on his nipple lightly, loving the nosies coming out of his mouth. You switched to his other nipple, not wanting to leave it out, treating it the same as the first one. You feel konig shudder, knowing he was getting close, you speed your hand up on his cock. Squeazing it harder as you jerk him faster. His stomach flexing as he gets closer. You pull away from his nipple.

“Gonna cum baby? Gonna cum for me?” He nods.

“Bar-” a broken moan falls from his mouth, cutting himself off. “Bitte, please, bitt-” He cuts himself off again, a low groan bubbling out of his chest. You nod.

“Cum for me baby,” You say. Konig moans your name, unbeiliving you werent going to draw his orgasm further from him. You stop your hand and take it out of his boxers. His responding whine music to your ears.

“No no, bär, no, bitte let me cum please.” He pleas, you shake your head.

“Not yet baby, you know edging makes it feel better for you.” His face was sad, his arms tugging his restraints. Konig loved when you would edge him, he loved you being in charge, in control of his release. It didnt happen often, only when Konig needed more attention, and when you wanted to be able to take his anxiousness away while making him feel good. “You’re being so good baby. Such a good boy for me, begging so sweet.” his face flushes more as you compliment him. He pushes his cheek against his bicep. You smile at his shyness.

“Sto- stop.” he mumbles. Konig, a monster on the field, a giant of a man whom everyone was afraid of was blushing under your compliments. Youd never tell him, but you loved that he was so deep. You loved the depth of your lover, he had so many layers, and you’d like to think you met all of them.

“Ok baby,” you agree. “Lets get you out of these boxers, yeah?” He nods eagerly. Trying to sit up to watch your face as you pull his underwear down. You slowly dragged his boxers down his legs, exposing his aching cock to the cold air in your room. He moans as you brush your thumb over his swollen cock head. “Oh, good boy.” you moan as you start to pump his cock again. Your fingers felt like breath of fresh air when he was suffocating, bringing him to life as he sinks into the feeling.

"Ahh, nhg bär ahh" He moans, his cock was throbbing, you could feel it in your hand. You grabbed the lube with your other hand, opening it and adding some onto his hole. You smile up at him as he winced. "Das ist kalt."

"I know baby, I'm sorry. You're being such a good boy for me. Which toy do you want today?" You smiled softly as you asked. He didn't answer, the feeling of your fingers massaging his rim tipping his brain back to mush. "Baby?"

"Ahh Bär, du bist so schön. So schöner Bär." He whimpered out, his eyes rolling back I'm his head as he appreciated your touch on him. "Bär, bitte bitte bumse mich." He whined. You furrowed your brows. Two fingers now in his hole, pumping deep and curling your fingers as you go. He cries out as your fingers touch his sweet spot. You smile.

"Baby, say that again in English?" You ask him, cooking your fingers in him as he whines.

"Please bär, please." He begs. His hips stuck between wanting to grind I to your hand or thrust back into the other.

"Please what baby."

"Your mouth," His whine was broken this time. You felt for the poor guy. You portioned to make yourself more comfortable, moving you head towards his cock. You decided to tease him, kitten licking the tip, and watching as it jumped. You giggle to yourself as he tries to wriggle out of his bonds.

"Someone's eager." You say, he nods hi head up and down. "OK baby, I'm gonna suck you off, when you are ready, you can cum, ok?" He nods. You smile.

You turned your head back to his cock, licking the length of it and taking him in your mouth. You met out a moan at the taste of him, sweaty and slick with his precum. He shutters at the vibrations rocking his cock, your fingers digging even deeper as he moves against your mouth.

"Ahhhh ah bär ahhh so good bär." He whines as you take him as deep as you could, your free hand putting a vibrator at the base of his cock, moving it around the circumference of it. He jerks, his moans louder than they had been before that night. "Ahh b- b- ahhhh." He groans, his high just a spitting distance away. "Bär, ich werde kommen." He panted. You smiled around his cock, working your tongue all around it, creating the perfect suction for his continued stimulation. Your hand holding the vibe to the sweet spot you found, the other 3 fingers deep in his ass, constantly hitting his sweet spot at a punishing pace. His stomach just started to jerk, letting you know he was about to cum, you pulled your mouth off of him, dropping the vibratory on the bed, and removing your fingers out of his hole. He cried in agony as you left him hanging yet again. There were tears of frustration running down his cheeks as his big blue eyes gazed at you in surprise. Your thoughts sobered.

"What's your colour baby?" The colour system, a classic for people into hard kinks, even soft ones really. The two of you used it when you felt you pushed the other too far.

"Gelb." His voice was weak and shakes, his tears subsiding as you caressed his face. Your thumbs rubbing right under his eyes.

"Too far baby?" You ask, reaching for his restraints to pull them off. He shakes his head frantically. Letting you know he didn't want that. "OK big guy, what do you need to happen?"

"Cum, please. I'm too sensitive." He replied. You nod, kissing the tip of his nose.

"OK baby, I'm gonna let you cum. Do you want a toy up your ass or my fingers?" You ask. He shakes as he thinks.

"Toy, I want to kiss you." You smile, looking at him with love in your eyes.

"OK baby, want me to play with your cock too?" He nods.

"Ues please Bär." You smile, sitting so your body fave his. Your face close to his as you slid the prelubed toy into his entrance. He gasps, and moans as you push it in all the way, feeling nice and full. You pause to kiss him heartily, pouring all the emotions you felt for him into this kiss. He grunts, letting you know he's not long until he'll be coming. You move the toy, fucking him with it, starting slowly at first, and then gaining speed. Your other hand holding a vibrator against his cock, both hands busy bringing the man you loved pleasure. He could hardly take it, his moans became whines and whimpers, his begs being jumbled into mumbled praises of your name, he kept moving his hips, trying to get every ounce of friction from you that he could. Your mouth mcmoved from his, toward his chin, biting softly. You trailed your teeth down his neck, leaving teeth indents every so often by biting down a little too hard. He felt like he was an ancient God, being pampered by his people, fed grapes and fanned, bathed and pampered. You made him feel like royalty, like everything bad in the world never existed. You made him whole.

When you hit his sweet spot you bit down hard than you had before, not enough to break the skin, but enough that he was going to bruise. He started making high pitched noise and low whines, getting closer to his peak, then you started suck on his sweet spot. He came. He came so hard his cum shot out everywhere, you smiled at your boyfriend. Holding him to calm him down, waiting until he was less sensitive to pull the toy out. You cuddled his head against your chest, as you untied his wrists, knowing he'd want a nap more than anything. Before you moved him too much farther, you grabbed the water from beside you, you'd been giving him sips between edges. You held the half empty bottle in front of him.

"C'mon pretty boy, will you please drink some for me?" You ask him nicely, trying to coax him into having some fluids after a scene that was particularly taxing on him. He shook his head, not wanting to do anything. "Come on baby, just open your mouth for me, there you go. Good boy Konig." You praise him. "Now swallow." Konjg does as you ask. You smile. "Now please drink the rest of this, I promise I'm going to bring you tea baby, just gonna have to drink your water first." Konig agreed, reluctantly.

You smiled at him. God he'd do anything to see that smile. He'd fight the biggest armies just to see one second worth of tha smile. He's so in love with you. You pat his chest, leaving a kiss on his sternum, his forehead, each of his cheeks, his palms and then finally his mouth.

"I'm going to run a bath, ok? I'll come right back to get you baby." He nods again. Sitting back in bed watching as you scurry into the ensuit. He was beyond satisfied at your abilities to take care of him. Some care way to much, others too little. You loved bringing him pleasure, and only stayed within his boundaries and respected when he needed to stop of slow down. You loved him. He knew that. By the time you'd come back into the room, 5 minutes had passed. You had Konig step around you as much as possible.

You helped him stand, helping him walk to the ensuit, and get in the ni e and warm bathtub, soothing his aching body. You sit beside the bathtub, watching him, holding his hand.

"Bär, you should come in." You shake your head.

"No baby, I gotta grab you something from the kitchen first, is that ok?" He nods his head quickly. You kiss his nose and then head down to the kitchen, opening the chest freezer and grabbing out Konigs favourite ice cream snack. You also grab a gartorade from the fridge, heading back up the stairs.

Konig leaned against the cool tile of the bathtub, his body calm. When he heard you walk back into the room, he opened his eyes, watching you.

Giving him the ice cream, his eyes widen. "Danke Bär, danke!" He bit into his ice cream, satisfied with the cold treat, his eyes watching you as you pulled your clothes off, he gestured for you to sit infront of him, shaking your head you tap his shoulder. He takes the hint.

As you step in behind him, you slide on the cool tile and into the warm water, pulling Konig to lean against your form. He cuddles back into you, squeezing your body deliciously, the way you loved to be. You wash his body with the cloth, being careful around his genital area and where you marked him. You wash his hair, also being careful not to get it in his eyes.

The two of you sat in the bath until it was good and cold, keeping each other warm.

You loved him, and he loved you. That's all there was to it.

#konig mw2 #konig x reader #gn reader #no use of y/n #konig #konig smut #arne writes

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oliver1irl · 13 days

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Um um um Ik You’re already writing a German zip but can I request a German Zip x German GN!Reader? They talk in German in front of everyone, even if asked to talk in English, they just wanna drop that good ahh gossip in German. It can be a fanfic or just hcs!! (it‘s okay if you won‘t, ik you‘re already making a German zip x Reader :]!)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹Zip x German!Gn!Reader꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ (ROMANTIC)

(HEADCANONS AND A ONESHOT…BULLYING, SWEARING (in English and German)l, Reader cussing in German and sometimes in English, Fluff, Puppy Love (On Zip's part), underage drinking, and violence) Based on ‘Farben by Orange Sector’ ‘All Dolled Up by The Orion Experience’ and ‘Can I Call You Tonight by DayGlow’

DIALOG COLORS:

Zip: Pink

You/Reader: Purple

Oliver: Red

Edward: Blue

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ When Zip first met you she knew you two would be the best of buds. You were judgmental, blunt, pessimistic, chaotic, and Fun . . . You and Zip were besties, which means you were also Oliver’s and Edward's besties too…Your role in their group was gossip, you would tell Oliver all the new gossip...Since Oliver is a scholar (Like you and everyone else except Abbie) he knows some German and can hold up a stable conversation…Zip. . .On the other hand, she isn't the smartest, you had to teach her the basics of German…

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ It was no secret that Zip liked you, She always loved the be around you and she just loved you, Zip is shorter than everyone so she loves to get piggyback rides from you…You sometimes can’t help but love the girl for trying to show her love to you…You two were like two peas in a pod…

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Of course Zip still struggles to understand you but Oliver helps by translating for Zip and Edward, It's good that nearly NO ONE understands German so you can cuss till your heart's content, Unless you are talking to Miss Bloomie (I THINK SHES THE LANGUAGE TEACHER)...You also took boxing lessons because you are aware your gossiping will get your ass beat if someone understood what you said about them, good thing you did…You get into fights more than you’d like to think

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ Zip confessed a while ago, that she was too shy to even face you…So she wrote in on a note. Of course, you said yes to her, how could you not say yes to a sweetheart like her?

Class started and since Miss Circle had enough of you and the group's bullshit she moved your seats so you are all separated but of course your lovely girlfriend Zip didn't sit in the new seat she sat right next to you…You didn't mind it at all since you were sitting at a table filled with people who hated you, especially Engel. Engel glared at you but all you did was show him your middle finger and said with a thick german accent ‘Go die you dumb bitch’…While the whole class all got started on the worksheet but You and Zip. You were gossiping and Zip was sorta understanding what you were saying… „Er hat wie eine Schlampe geweint, nur weil ich ihn verprügelt habe, aber er hat damit angefangen.“ (TRANSLATION: He was crying like a little bitch just because I beat his ass, but he started it) Zip giggled at this and since she understood a lot of it…Edward was looking at you for help, he’s sitting in the group of kids who hate his guts and are all glaring at him.

„Oh toll, Edward wird sich den Arsch verprügeln“ (TRANSLATION: Oh Great, Edward is going to get his ass beat) you mutter…Oliver was sitting in a corner since wherever he was he was going to sit he would cause problems, Your phone buzzed, Oliver was texting the group chat. “Should we just go back to where we normally sit, Miss Circle favors us so I am sure she won't kill us.” Edward replies with “YES” “PLEASE” and “I AM FINNA GET MY ASS BEAT OVER HERE”. . . Everyone agreed to sit back at the table you guys were in before the new seats…

You were brushing Zips hair as you were listening to Oliver gossip…And Zip was just sitting there enjoying the feeling of you brushing her hair… Edward was gossiping too about whatever…Let's say that day you had a bunch of homework…But Oliver has got your back. (He gave you the answers)

INTRO/RULES 4 REQUESTING

#fundamental paper education #German Reader #fpe x reader #zip fundamental paper education #zip fpe #I LOVE ZIP!!!!

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cornchrunchie · 6 months

Text

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

I'm very excited you tagged me in this, @all-my-worlds-a-stage and @fallingforfandoms! I really enjoy reading the answers from all of you.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

109, which makes around 12 stories per year. Fun fact!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

360,182, which is about the total word count of C.S. Lewis’ seven-book Chronicles of Narnia series. Fun fact #2!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Tatort Münster. Like 99.9 % mostly. I think I have only one story posted on AO3 for a different fandom (Knives Out), though I don’t post everything I write. As you might have guessed from my recent content on this blog, I’ve also started a fic for Good Omens. We will see if I will finish it, let alone post it.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Unsurprisingly, the fic for Knives Out has the most Kudos. Less niche than the other ones :)

Tonight Will be a Memory Too – Knives Out, Benoit Blanc/Phillip It's part of Evelyn's job at the musical theater to talk to guests. Once in a while, she gets to meet truly fascinating people. A glimpse into Benoit's and Phillip's life through the eyes of an outsider.

Ein Leben lang daheim – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne Auf der Fortbildung, die sie besuchen, gibt es einen Coronafall und Thiel und Boerne müssen präventiv zwei Wochen lang in Quarantäne.

Schnee von gestern – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne, co-written with Tjej Es wird Rum gemacht und es wird rumgemacht.

Tauchen ist wie Fliegen unter Wasser – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne Im Münsteraner Schwimmbad kommt vor hunderten von Zuschauern eine junge Frau ums Leben. Doch die Ermittlungen gestalten sich für Thiel nicht nur aufgrund der widersprüchlichen Hinweise als schwierig …

Zuhause – Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne, co-written with Tjej Thiel ließ ihn gar nicht erst ausreden. Auch wenn das für ihn vielleicht ungewöhnlich war, aber er hatte sich eigentlich schon Pläne für die Feiertage gemacht. „Danke für das Angebot, aber ich wollte mal wieder nach Hause fahren.“

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I do! I try to answer every single one, even if it might take me a while to do so. Comments mean a lot to me and I appreciate when someone takes the time to write one. I'm especially fond of those short comment conversations, and the interaction with like-minded people. I made some friends that way.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't write a lot of angst and if I do, there will probably be at least a comforting ending. One of my rare fics, if not the only one, with angst throughout is Alles (Tatort Münster, Thiel & Boerne with hints of possible slash). Even after several years, I still like this one a lot.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Well, what exactly does happiest mean, right? The great majority of my fics end with two people getting together, a storyline that tends to be quite happy in itself. One fic I consider to have a very happy ending where there is no direct romance to the plot is Ein Tännlein aus dem Walde (Tatort Münster). It's with almost everybody on the team, so a lot of Found Family feelings. I guess the Christmas theme, the high spirits of everybody and this feeling of... content make this a very happy fic to me.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I can't remember any hate, so I guess this is a No.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Depends on the fic but sometimes I do. I've written explicit and less explicit stuff alike. It's been a while since I last wrote something explicit, though.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No, I've never written a crossover. I rarely read them, too.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

If so, I haven't noticed.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

None that I know of.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

As it becomes clear through my top fics: Yes, several and in different ways! I've co-written some fics where we took turns in writing, some where one person wrote the beginning and the other person completed the story, some where we brainstormed together and one person wrote most of it by themselves. I really enjoy writing with another person! The discussions, different ideas and chances to read parts I haven't written keep me excited about the story. It's like a series of prompts!

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I would have to lie to say that it wasn't Thiel/Boerne from Tatort Münster. They were the first ship I can remember shipping (apart from Ernie and Bert, maybe) and even though I don't agree with everything done in the canon, I hold them close to my heart.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I once started writing a Groundhog-Day-inspired fic for Tatort Münster where Boerne relives the same day over and over again and thinks it's about a murder case when it's actually about, shocked noises, love. The idea is still interesting to me but I doubt I will find the motivation to properly plot this.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Something that comes relatively easy to me and what people tend to highlight in their comments is the dialogues I write. I think they're what I like best about many of my stories.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I'm not good at writing quickly, as I tend to overthink. And it’s difficult for me to keep the right tempo of telling the story, and having a conclusive story arch, especially in long fics. I sometimes feel like I randomly elaborate on parts of the fic rather than actually think about it.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

If it suits the story, why not. I don’t think I have done it yet, though.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Tatort Münster :)

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

This one is hard. Of course, my writing style changed over the years (developed, I should hope) but I still feel very fond of most of my stories. If I absolutely have to pick a favorite, it might be Tauchen ist wie Fliegen unter Wasser (Tatort Münster, Thiel/Boerne). It took me about five years to finish this story and I am proud of all the love and work I put into it. Coming up with the murder crime, making it interesting and connecting it to the romance of Thiel and Boerne was challenging, and I am happy with how it turned out. The fic still means a lot to me.

This was so much fun! Props to everybody who read this far.

I think most people I know have already done this by now, so feel free to ignore: @cricrithings @holly-hop @keinbutterdieb @khalaris and anybody else that feels like it!

#about me #on writing #fanfiction #tag meme #twenty questions #interesting to look back on my fics

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strictpunishedhubby · 1 year

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Oft bekomme ich von meiner Frau zu hören, “das ist nur zu Deinem Besten”, während sie den grässlichen Rohrstock auf meinen ihr feilgebotenen, schutzlos ausgelieferten, nackten Hintern schwingt. Sie hat gut reden, ist es doch mein und nicht ihr Po, der zu leiden hat. Ich denke, während ich am Weinen bin, es ist nicht zu meinen, sondern zu ihrem Besten, denn danach bin ich immer besonders artig und fügsam. Aber sie hat wohl mit ihrer Aussage dahingehend Recht, es ist wirklich zu meinem Besten, denn es fällt mir mit meinem verprügeltem Po wesentlich leichter gehorsam zu sein, und meine häuslichen Pflichten zu erfüllen. So verhindert sie, dass ich von ihr eine noch drastischere Bestrafung erhalte. Verrichten muss ich die Haushaltsarbeiten sowieso, denn sonst tritt sofort der gemeinen Rohrstock in Aktion. Da ich oft undiszipliniert bin, geschieht die erzieherische Rohrstockstrafe manchmal sogar mehrmals die Woche. Nach dem Verständnis meiner Frau und gleichzeitigen Erzieherin ist es nur recht und billig, bei meinen Verfehlungen, ihr meine nackte, schutzlose Erziehungsfläche präsentieren zu müssen. So gesehen ist es wirklich zu meinem Besten, damit es mir leichter fällt, meine Pflichten gewissenhafter und ordentlicher zu erfüllen!

Manchmal frage ich mich vor allem wenn sie mir Züchtigungen und weitere Strafen ankündigt, hat sie wirklich die Berechtigung mich als ihren Mann für meine Verfehlungen nicht nur zu züchtigen, sondern meist auch zusätzliche Strafen mit denen Kinder und Jugendliche von ihren Eltern bestraft werden, wie lange Zeiten mit dem Gesicht zur Wand in der Ecke zu stehen oder knien, Stubenarrest, Verbote, etc. zu verhängen. Ich muss allerdings sagen, schon vor unserer Ehe hat sie mir angekündigt und ich dem einwilligte, sie wird mich sehr streng erziehen und für Verfehlungen immer streng bestrafen. Nur indem ich zustimme würde sie mich heiraten.

Welchen Rat kannst Du mir geben? Sie würde mich aus dem Haus werfen, wenn ich mich ihr nicht beuge!

I often hear from my wife, "It's for your own good" as she swings the hideous cane at my offered for sale, defenseless, bare bottom. It's easy for her to talk, it's my bottom and not her bottom that's suffering. I think while I'm crying it's not for mine, it’s for her best, because I'm always extra good and docile afterwards. But I guess she's right about what she says, it really is for my own good, because with my butt beaten up, it's a lot easier for me to be obedient and do my household chores. This is how she prevents me from receiving an even more drastic punishment from her. I have to do the household chores anyway, because otherwise the common cane will immediately come into action. Since I am often undisciplined, the educationale cane punishment sometimes even happens several times a week. According to the understanding of my wife, who is also an educator, it is only right and proper, given my transgressions, to have to present my naked, defenseless educational area to her. In that sense, it's really for my best, to make it easier for me to do my duties more conscientiously and neatly!

Sometimes I ask myself, especially when she announces chastisements and other punishments, does she really have the right to chastise me as her husband for my misconduct, also additional penaltiesother punishments with which children and young people are punished by their parents, such as standing or kneeling in the corner facing the wall for long periods of time house arrest, bans, etc. to impose. However, I have to say that even before we were married, she announced to me and I agreed that she would bring me up very strictly and would always severely punish me for misconduct. Only by my agreeing would she marry me.

What advice can you give me? She would throw me out of the house if I do not submit to her!

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grace-nakimura · 6 months

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to be a person, by me (ew)

Rating: PG-13 / T, maybe a light R / M. Trigger Warnings: Depersonalization, Emotional / Mental / Physical abuse or mentions of, murder, violence, confessions of suicidal ideation, Palpatine being Mara's intrusive thoughts from beyond the grave, and light suggestive content. Also, not really beta'd, much like Lucasfilm and Disney didn't beta any of the sequels after TFA. This isn't really Legends-based, as well, so please do not be angry at me. Pairing: Mentions of Obitine ( Satine / Obi-Wan ), Korkie / OC, HanLeia, and can be seen as onesided LukeMara or not if you squint. The OTP of this fic and any sequels to it, or additions, is Mara Jade/Personhood or Mara Jade/Working On Her Mental Health. Summary: “I was just wondering, well, aren’t you curious? The emperor is dead,” yes, she may not be his Hand anymore, but that doesn’t mean she can’t wince as almost visceral pain lances in her heart. She may have been a means to an end for him, but to Mara he everything. “The war will be over soon. Wouldn’t you want to know where you come from?”

“Aren’t you curious?”

Mara raises her brow but says nothing. The mess hall is busy enough and while farm-boy is still regarded with a sense of awe among everyone, the two could find respite in both getting lost in the crowd of people so they can talk without being overheard too much. Skywalker, for all his near status as a modern-day legend, has mastered shielding enough to appear unassuming if he wants; as for Mara, well, the ex-child assassin wouldn’t have been good at what she did if she didn’t know how to blend into the crowd.

She doesn’t want to delve too deep into why she feels a sense of camaraderie with Skywalker who, by all intents and purposes, she had tried to kill not very long ago. Which resulted in her capture which resulted in … well, she isn’t quite a defector, or at least not one by choice originally, but she isn’t Imperial.

She will never be that again. She isn’t quite sure of who she is, or what she is, but she knows she’s more than just a means to an end. She hopes she is more than a means to an end.

Aren’t you just a means to an end here, my dear? A voice that sounds too much like him creeps in her head. You are a monster and always will be … my beautiful little monster.

“Mara?”

Skywalker gives her a look. He’s patient, too kind to her, and it makes her skin itch. Sometimes Mara isn’t certain if Skywalker pities her or genuinely wants to see her. Neither makes her feel comfortable, but she hopes it isn’t pity. She doesn’t think she could stomach pity. Not when the mind healer the Alliance High Council forces her to see twice a week when she’s on the base radiates pity when they speak. “You’re not going to let me brood over stale ration bars by myself, are you?”

Skywalker’s smile is kind.

Why the kriff does he have to be so kind?

Stupid farm-boy.

“No.” He answers, good-naturedly, even biting off a piece of his own ration bar. He winces because the only person who eats ration bars without complaint is Organa but chews it all the same. “I was just wondering, well, aren’t you curious? The emperor is dead,” yes, she may not be his hand anymore, but that doesn’t mean she can’t wince as almost visceral pain lances in her heart. She may have been a means to an end for him, but to Mara he everything. “The war will be over soon. Wouldn’t you want to know where you come from?”

Mara knows where she comes from. She comes from Nur. She comes from darkness, loneliness, and the smell of blood and rot filled her lungs before she knew how to read. She comes from long, skeletal claws combing through her hair as she’d sit in front of the man who promised to make her his child in truth, if only she’d do what he’d tell her to the letter, weaving stories of special she was and how she’d make him so proud. Mara comes from the same hands that shot lightning because someone saw her slit a Moff's throat, when she ought to have been much cleverer in her attempt, and that at fourteen she should curb her impulses.

The last one made her black out and wake up in the private imperial med center. To her credit, she never made that mistake again.

She understands what Skywalker is asking, though; he’s recently found a sister, Organa, and he thinks that because she’s an orphan she longs for the same things he longs for. Home. Family.

Never forget you are only two-hundred-twelve, the Grand Inquisitor had reminded her when she left Nur for Coruscant. She had been only eleven years old and hand-picked by the emperor himself. She could feel the envy and the hate drip from the man with every single syllable. She would be above him, a little child, and he hated it. Hated her for it. Mara had relished it something splendid.

Numbers are no one. Numbers don’t have families. Numbers are discarded.

“Not really.” Skywalker gives her a look, but he doesn’t say anything more. The conversation is over for now.

***

When Mara thinks of her mother, she feels safe. A woman with curls darker than her red gold, singing to her as she holds her close to her chest, in a language she doesn’t understand.

Her memory is patchy at best, worn, a bit like a well-loved stuffed animal that slowly loses its newness as years go by.

When Mara thinks of her father, she remembers laughter. Boyish. To be fair, the woman sounds young, as well, but both sounds are so muddled and muffled she isn’t certain if she could pinpoint their ages accurately on memory alone.

She likes to think the feelings she feels when she thinks of them, or when she dreams of them, is love, but she knows better.

She’s a number and no one loves a number.

***

Mara brings it up to her mind healer the day after, slouching in the chair in front of the mon calamari, blowing a strand of hair from her face as if it isn’t a big deal.

“Perhaps it’s a good idea,” she says. Mara forgot her name. Doesn’t care to remember. Her voice is gentle, soothing, but Mara hears the pity in it, and she hates it. She misses when she wore force binding cuffs, when she was thrown in a cell with the best of the Alliance’s guards, and when she was looked at with cool contempt.

Pity the men she’s killed. Do not pity her.

“I know who I am.” She does. When she looks at her hands they are coated in blood, but she doesn’t flinch. She blinks and they are clean again. When she looks at the healer sometimes, she sees a younger her, dressed in black and her appearance obstructed by a black cloak, holding a blade to the mon calamari’s neck hissing—beautiful monster.

“I don’t think you do, Mara.”

You’ll always be my beautiful monster, dear girl, the voice tells her comfortingly. Embrace it. Make me proud.

All Mara does is shrug.

“I do urge caution,” the healer treads, leaning over to as she places the datapad aside. “We’ve made plenty of strides, Mara, but sometimes the past is better to be left in the past. Sometimes it can give us the closure we want, but sometimes it can reopen wounds that even bacta can’t heal.”

“I don’t want to know.”

The woman is patient. Stars, not that look of pity. Not that softening of features with the urge to coddle her as if she’s a child. She’s twenty-one. She hasn’t been a child in years, if ever. Numbers aren’t children. Hands are of a greater purpose than a person. All this is too little too late. “You once told me that tact is just another word for lying kindly. For someone who favors the truth among all else, you make it almost your duty in lying to yourself.”

Mara, rather petulantly and notedly, shrugs again.

I never lied to you, my dear.

You did. She combats the voice in her head. You made me think you cared about me. You never did. You never wanted me like—

“Mara?”

“I don’t want to know,” she repeats.

I am a number and I know nothing.

***

For all that she is and isn’t a number, and she tells herself she’s just doing this out of boredom some odd weeks later, looking at the med droid with supposed indifference.

The healer says all she needs is a pinprick of her blood, and the med droid and the computers would do the rest. It can take hours, whereas in the days of the Republic it could only take moments.

Skywalker offered to be with her. Organa even offered to be with her. Solo, well, he doesn’t like her all that much, but he doesn’t look at her with pity or contempt. He’s honest and Mara respects him for that.

Mara doesn’t quite like herself, either.

“How much longer?” She asks the meddroid after the initial prick. Her blood is being analyzed. If any of her biological family were in the system during the Republic, or even during the Empire, something would pop up. The droid turns it’s back to her as it works, pressing buttons here-and-there, as she slouches on the examination table.

Slouching is beneath you, girl! Mara winces at how biting the tone is. Are you some common street rat? Are you no longer worthy of having a name, Mara Jade? Sit up straight and be worthy of my time!

Despite how she wants to fight it, she sits up straighter. Stiffer. Can feel phantom clawed hands gripping her arm and squeezing. She wonders if she can see bruises if she gazes down, but she has to look straight.

Don’t cry. Pain is your ally. Fear is your ally. Use it.

She shuts her eyes. What does the mind healer say? The one she doesn’t remember on purpose? “My focus determines my reality.” Licking her dry lips and taking a deep, long breath, she opens her eyes.

A robbed figure stands before her, opening its arms wide. Inviting. Its cackling is anything but.

You’ll always be my beautiful monster, initiate two-hundred-and-twelve.

A whimper. She lets out a whimper. It’s pathetic, and all too vulnerable, but when she closes her eyes once again, she hopes that the image she sees is just a med droid ignoring her. Please, she begs. Please.

She falls asleep on the exam bed in a fetal position, and she dreams of lightning, of a woman singing, and vast darkness.

A hand gently brings her back to the bright lights. It takes a while, but when she opens her eyes, she sees Organa with a worried expression. “Jade?” Mara sits up, although not as quickly as she’d liked. Her limbs feel heavy and her head fills like it’s been stuffed with cotton. “Are you alright?”

“M’fine.”

Organa’s dry expression tells Mara she believes none of it. It’s only when Mara lifts her hand to rub her face does she understand why; she’s been crying.

Mara wants to say she’s just allergic to medicine, but before she could say anything to defend her hard-earned stoicism, the med droid that has been so keen on ignoring her pipes up: “A positive match has been traced. Exact matches are ninety-nine-point-nine in accuracy. Should I—,”

She doesn’t hear it. All she feels are hands covering her own, Organa’s she supposes, and maybe having someone with her isn’t that bad.

“—it appears that, according to the database, the maternal match is one Mae, Elora.”

The singing woman has a name. Look at that.

“The paternal match is one former Lord Kor of House Kryze. Mandalorian. Peculiar. Force sensitivity, as what I found in your DNA, isn’t common with Mandalorians, although not unheard of.” The med droid turns back around and hands her what seems like a disk with its mechanical hand. “A brief file as well as a few photos should be stored on this device. You can easily put this in on your personal datapad in your quarters to peruse. It also mentions your DNA is of both Stewjoni, Mandalorian, and Corellian descent, as well as possible genetic health factors.”

Mara takes the disc and makes a point to ignore Organa’s pointed gaze.

“Good! Now we are all finished,” the droid chirps, sounding more animated than it has the entire visit. “Please leave!”

***

Elora Mae was the illegitimate daughter of a Stewjoni smuggler and Corellian pirate. Shady upbringing, but she was admitted to Coruscant to study medicine at the age of twelve. Prodigy.

Mara stares at the black and white holo with an unquenchable hunger. There isn’t much. Prodigy. Born sixteen years before the Empire began. While she was born on her mother’s native Stewjon, she, apparently, spent most of her younger years in various space ports. Her professors recounted how she was more than proficient in several modern languages and at least three dead languages. For all accounts, Mara surmises she was a gifted student. While she can’t see it on the photo, it is said that the loose, big curls of hers were auburn and her eyes were green. From what she can tell she might’ve received her freckles from her, too.

Her eyes were kind. Mara can’t stop seeing how the holophoto she has, even if she is only giving a shy smile, how kind Elora’s eyes were.

Were. Past tense. She is dead, and along with her, her two-year-old daughter. In a way the report is right; Mara-Jade Kryze, or Mara-Jade Mae, or Mara-Jade Mae-Kryze has been dead for a long, long time. The woman of twenty-one who sits on her measly cot, her legs supporting the datapad as she leans against the cold wall isn’t the two-year-old Elora had sung to all those years ago.

She’s a number.

A swap of her thumb and she sees her father: Kryze, Kor. A man who looks too young to be called a man, much like Elora looked much too young to be called a woman, who stands straight and looks into the camera with a sort of forced stiffness. It makes Mara think that he might’ve been trying too hard to appear older, or serious.

They were both so karking young.

Kor Kryze, or Korkie as loved ones often called him—did his parents hate him? Who would think about giving their son the nickname Korkie unless they wanted his life to be miserable? —was the nephew of a deceased Mandalorian Duchess, Satine of House Kryze. Nothing on his parents. It is assumed that his father was the initial first Duke in line, the late Lord Adonai the II, the firstborn of the late Duke Adonai of House Kryze, who died in a terrorist bombing in Sundari a year before the late Duchess ascended the throne. That, or a foundling, but Mara knows very little of Mandalorian culture to look too much into it.

Same as Elora, minus the shady upbringing: gifted student, studied medicine, and was set to be the late Duchess’ heir on account that her sister, the Lady Bo-Katan, was presumed missing and dead. He, too, was well versed in many languages, and was said to be quite gifted in arithmetic, but his passion was medicine. When he abdicated the throne after his aunt’s—and from what Mara could conclude, his guardian—death from the Sith Darth Maul, he went to Coruscant to study medicine.

Mara can put two and two together: they met studying the same field, although it is said that Elora ventured more to psychiatry and Kor into being a pediatric surgeon, probably bonded over being orphans, and bam—marriage and a baby. Her.

Not much is said after Elora’s death. Not much is said about her. Just that he had a daughter, the daughter’s name was blacked out, and was put on the Empire’s Most Wanted when it was discovered ten years after their deaths, he was smuggling force-sensitive children out of Coruscant, as well as forging medical records to conceal force sensitivity.

From his date of death, and the fact that the Alliance gave him orders to be on Aldera during that time, he would’ve been on Alderaan when Tarkin destroyed it.

Both of her parents are dead.

She … She went into this knowing the possibility. She remembers telling herself that they could be dead or, if they aren’t, they might as well be dead because who wants to know their child was the Hand of the Emperor? She doesn’t think Darth Vader ever had a mother, or even an actual name, but she knows if he did, she’d be horrified to know what her son had become.

It doesn’t soften the blow. Just because you know a bullet is heading towards you, that it’s going to hurt like hell, doesn’t take away how bad it karking hurts when it finally hits you.

You could’ve never achieved true power with them, her eyes sting but she makes no move to wipe away the tears. I made you great.

“I didn’t want to be great,” Mara confesses into the void, brokenly. “I just wanted to be loved.”

***

Five years have gone by since the treaty on Jakku, and she has her own ship. Most ships have names, but Mara decides Ship is as good as any. She works for a man named Karrde who is probably the closest thing to a friend she’d ever have.

Skywalker is a friend, so is Organa, but they are—complicated.

Skywalker is starting a new Jedi Order. “I know it’ll never measure up to what the old Order was,” he began, almost shyly, as he spoke to her about his vision, “but it can be something. Maybe something better.”

“Good for you.”

He gave her a sheepish grin, looking down at the ground as if the dirt of Jakku was more interesting than her actual face, “you could—um. You could join me, if you want. Not as a student just … we can learn together, maybe?”

She had told him no but wished him the best. Mara knew the Jedi of old were flawed and, from what she gathered with the little she had heard from the Inquisitors who used to be Jedi Knights or Padawans, to even Vader himself—their fall would’ve happened sooner or later. While one could argue that it was bias—and a lot of it was bias—Mara did note the ring on truth. She didn’t have the heart to tell Luke that, though.

Just because they were on borrowed time didn’t mean they weren’t needed, or aren’t still needed, after all.

Organa is a mother. “I never thought I’d live past twenty,” she had told her, holding the baby to her chest. Bags underneath her eyes, hair oily and unwashed, covered with spit up stains and sweat, Organa still was positively radiant in the Force. Mara wondered then if that was how her mother looked when she held her as a baby. “Now I’m someone’s mom.” A pause, as if to allow that notion to really sink in, before Organa made a face. “I’m someone’s wife, too.”

“You could do better than Solo,” Mara had said, which made Organa laugh, and the indigent sound of a ‘Hey!’ in the background to be the husband in question.

Solo is another person in the complicated category, but he doesn’t hate her anymore. She still respects him more than she lets own, just like she respects Organa, or Skywalker, or Calrissian.

On the control panel, right next to the steering wheel, is a wedding holo of her parents. Nineteen and eighteen, respectfully, just like there is a photo of both, separately, by her nightstand in her personal quarters.

She doesn’t see a mind healer twice a week anymore. Once every three months. It’s taken a while, but she’s worked hard. Not just to get the New Republic off her back—mandatory sessions were not only her stipulation for not being a prisoner, but now being on an eternal parole as she smuggled for them—but to get his voice out of her head. That part, the insidious part of her brain that sounds too much like her old master, is the hardest monster to silence.

Curling up with a blanket on the pilot’s chair she stares at the holophoto and shuts her eyes, willing herself to remember the three things her mind healer has been telling her: her name is Mara Jade. She is nearly thirty years old. She was born in Coruscant. Those are the facts. Those are hard facts and everything else is just wind.

Her father was Kor Kryze. Her mother was Elora Mae. They married a year after the Empire rose and she was born the year after. Her lifeday is the fourth day of the fourth month.

“Why do I still feel like a number?” She had asked her mind healer. Oh, her name is Stevie. Or she thinks it’s Stevie. It’s something with an ‘ie’ at the end. “Why do I still see myself as a title, or Initiate Two Twelve?”

Stevie, or something, just gave a sad smile. “The woman is healing, Mara, but to be completely free? You must heal the child, too. And that child, no matter how much you hate it, was Initiate Two Twelve.”

“I think I’m a bit kriffed, mum,” she tells the bride in the holo, and then turns to the groom, “dad. I bet you had bigger and better plans for me. If it’s any consolation, what I lack on the interior I make up for the exterior.”

And she’s good at sex. They may be projections and they may be dead, but Mara doesn’t think she ought to tell them that.

Being the Hand of the Emperor meant anything considered hedonistic, or anything deemed unclean, was prohibited. When she was told about sex itself it was only with clear instructions of don’t do it. Her old master claimed it was protecting her innocence; her healer—let's call her Vie—claims it was a way to control her. Six months after the treaty was signed, thereby ending the Galactic civil war, Mara went into a Cantina in Dantooine and met a Twi’lek named … well, she forgot her name, but she never would forget the conversations about consent, about health, and more importantly that sex was supposed to be fun.

It isn't something she partakes often in, but she took those guidelines to heart. The only name she remembers from her encounters was Lando, the first male partner she had, but while he truly did have a talented tongue his fingers fumbled too much to be too memorable. Apparently being too honest with him, even if she thought honesty was the most important part about consent, wasn’t the way to go because he still hasn’t really spoken to her since.

How immature.

Sometimes she wonders, when she’s alone in her quarters, underneath the covers as her hands trail down in between her legs, if Skywalker would fumble with his tongue and be smooth with his fingers, or if he would be the opposite, or both, or neither—but she stops herself from going further, leaving herself unsatisfied and strangely empty.

She isn’t a Jedi and, from what they’ve gathered from his Jedi-ghost-friends, Jedi aren’t supposed to have naked friends. Well, that is what a green troll had told him. A man named Quinlan Vos, who had just passed this year to be exact, had said plenty of Jedi kriffed around, but it was the attachment bit that wasn’t frown upon.

Luke is kind. Luke is going to make a new Order that will survive centuries.

And all you are is damaged goods, the snide voice tells her.

***

Seven years go by and she’s older now. Older than her mother ever would be. She still has to catch up another decade to make it where she’d be older than her father, but it’s creeping up there.

She still reads the datapad at night sometimes. She’s read it a thousand times front to back, side to side, but something always rubs her the wrong way when she reads about her father’s early life.

It isn’t his unfortunate nickname, either.

One night she clicks on the name Satine, his listed guardian, and something strikes her as odd. The eyes, for one. Turning towards one of the holophotos projected on her nightstand of her father, she blew the photo of Satine Kryze up with a pinch of her fingers and studied both side by side.

Save his hair, which was the same reddish gold as hers, or the nose and dimples, it was almost uncanny how alike they looked. Biological, then, and not adopted. But when she swiped back and clicked on a photo of Adonai II and his late wife, Miriam, they looked nothing like her father. And Bo-Katan—who is still very much alive and, for all the progress Mara has made can’t find the courage to reach out to her great aunt—isn't even in the running for a parent since she’s only four years his senior.

“No karking way,” she whispers to herself when a thought pops into her head. “S’just coincidence, is all.”

That doesn’t stop her from booting up her on-call multi-purpose droid. Pinprick DNA sample. Instead of hours like before, its minutes, and it shows what she knows to be true. Only she adds in Kor Kryze to find his genetic match. She comes up, of course, and considering he’s deceased, and she is the only genetic donor available, it takes a little longer.

Maternal and paternal matches come up afterward. Ninety-nine-point-five percent chance of shared DNA.

“Maternal match: Kryze, Satine. Paternal match, Kenobi, Obi-Wan.”

And Mara throws her head back and releases the loudest cackle in the Galaxy.

Falling on her back against the cushioned bed, red gold hair fawned out like a halo, she stares up at the ceiling and she’s still laughing.

Her grandfather—her karking grandfather—was the High General of the Galactic Army of the Republic. General Obi-Wan Kenobi.

And he was the one man both Darth Vader and the Emperor himself hated beyond measure.

Perfect Obi-Wan Kenobi went against the code some fifteen years before the Clone Wars and no one was all the wiser. Well, besides Satine, her grandmother, that is. If she remembers correctly, Obi-Wan's reward for being found while the Empire was still in power was over a billion credits. More, if she’s being honest.

She wonders if her old master knew. Wonders if Vader knew.

No, or at least not Vader. If Vader had known, or even suspected given how deeply he hated the Jedi, he would’ve taken it out on her. Instead, he hardly acknowledged her and she him. Well, small mercies and all that.

Does it matter, my dear? You’ll always be my creation, not his.

“Maybe so,” she allows, but only half-heartedly.

When she goes to sleep that night, she knows one thing: she’ll go to Ossus, tell Skywalker about what she’s found out, just to see the look of horror on that ghost-gremlin's face.

***

“Old Ben kriffed someone? You mean … You mean he’s had sex?!”

Skywalker’s jaw is on the ground. They are in her quarters and no, thank you, they aren’t here for anything untoward. She’s still giggling—been giggling off and on for quite some time now—and then full-on snorts when Skywalker repeats it: “Old Ben kriffed someone? But he’s so … conservative.”

“Conservative people usually are the dirtiest,” supplies Mara, and at Skywalker’s look of horror, she full on cackles.

He shakes his head. “Still! It’s...It’s old Ben, and you are his granddaughter. That means he..”

“He kriffed a duchess well and good and nine months later, my dad was born, and then given an unfortunate nickname for the rest of his life.” Mara says almost sagely, which finally makes Skywalker wake from his stupor and break out into a brilliant grin.

When he smiles at her like that, when he laughs with her like that, she almost wants to call him Luke.

“Korkie is an awful nickname,” Skywalker—Luke—agrees, shaking his head. “I thought being called wormie was bad.”

“Wormie?”

Luke shakes his head adamantly. “Another time.”

There is a comfortable silence. Being nearly thirty did wonders for Luke. His face now looks more steadier to sit on—

WHORE!

Shut up.

She doesn’t give straddling either side of his face, even if it’s been years at this point and her own fingers aren’t cutting it. That isn’t why she’s here and she knows that Luke deserves better than her. She isn’t a whore, but she is damaged goods. Tainted. Everything Luke doesn’t deserve.

So they stand there in companionable silence and she does all she can to keep her thoughts pure, until he breaks the silence with something she never considered.

“Remember when I told you about Yoda?” He begins, chewing his bottom lip. Oh, it’s been so long, because now she is thinking about him biting her bottom lip, or other places, preferrably between her legs and—oh. Right. He’s asking her a question. She nods quickly so he can continue. “Master Yoda comes to me as a, well, a ghost in the Force. My father does, although not as often, and so does Ben.”

She isn’t following. Mainly, because he licks his lips and now she is thinking untoward thoughts she really, truly did not come here for this. She doesn’t think she could handle this, or whatever this is between them, because it’s more than likely one sided. She nods, dumbly, but nothing is registering in her brain.

“If you want, you can talk to him. Old Ben. Obi-Wan, you know.”

Oh.

Then it hits her. She can talk to her dead grandfather who kriffed a duchess right and proper, that made her father, and then her father kriffed her mother—although they were married, which means she isn’t a bastard like she always guessed she was—and then she was born. The circle of bloody life.

Luke continues, unaware of Mara or just ignoring her antics by now: “He’s sort of, um, unreliable? He shows up whenever. I’m sure he’d want to meet you, at least? I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t want to meet you, anyway.”

This is all she needs to wake up from her lustful haze and back to reality.

All he would see is me, and now the voice is louder than it has been in a while. You are tainted by the dark side. He would whisper into Skywalker’s ear to strike you down. You would be naïve to think a Jedi will want anything to do with you, blood or not.

Instead, Mara shakes her head and swallows a gigantic lump in her throat. “S’fine. Just wanted to see your reaction up close and personal.” A brave smile stretches her face, and it hurts. “I’m here, though! Would you like to show me around?”

He’s back to beaming and the two exit The Ship—it still doesn’t have a name and at this point, she doubts it ever will—and he begins the tour of his Jedi school in its infancy.

***

Months fly by, and then a year, and she hasn’t left Ossus.

Sometimes she still dreams about sitting on Luke’s face, but sometimes she also dreams about waking up beside him and greeting the day.

While she never meets Bo-Katan face-to-face, she does eventually gather the courage to comm her. When she tells her great aunt about what she’s found, the woman isn’t even surprised. “Knew it,” is all she says, and Mara thinks she might take Bo-Katan up on the offer of visiting Sundari or even Kalevala. Not now. She isn’t brave enough just now, but soon, because she thinks she likes her great aunt.

After all, they are the only two people in their family left.

When Luke, with Mara’s permission, had told Organa—Leia. If Mara can call Luke by his first name in her head, she ought to do the same for his sister.—about her grandparents, the face Leia made looked like she ate something incredibly sour by accident. “But he’s always been … old.”

“That’s what I said!” The other twin agreed.

“Old people kriff, you know,” both Mara and Han supplied, which made the twins shiver in disgust even more.

Luke doesn’t ask if she wants to talk to her ghost-grandfather. She doesn’t bring it up.

She finds out they share the same preferred dueling form, though, and she recognizes the man from the archives she used to watch as a little girl was … well, she had been watching her grandfather the entire time. She remembers thinking how Form III looked more like a dance than the other forms and that it seemed more controlled, which is still something she aches for, and knew no other form would suit her.

It almost makes her want to change forms, just to be safe, but by now it’s just as easy as breathing. She’s turning thirty soon and she’s probably too old to change anything up, anyway.

She knows Luke has caught her watching his instructional videos. She watches them and thinks that maybe, if she had a chance to be a cleaner version of herself and less tainted, and if the Empire never rose, then she could’ve been a granddaughter he would’ve been proud of. Maybe not acknowledged, since everyone who remembers Obi-Wan Kenobi has told her how dedicated he was to being a Jedi Master, but maybe … maybe he wouldn’t be disgusted by her.

Maybe he could’ve liked her, if not loved her.

It’s the same when she sees old holos of her grandmother. She wishes there were more of her father, but he spent his youth largely out of the media spotlight, so all she could find was a polite wave here and there and when one interviewer asked how he enjoyed Alderaan when he was just a child, he called it pretty. Her grandmother was a renowned pacifist. She abhorred violence. She and a thousand other systems remained neutral in the Clone Wars and with how the New Republic treats Mandalore, well, apparently the Republic hasn’t forgiven or forgotten.

She remembers the night of a thousand tears; the Empire didn’t forget, either.

I wonder how such a well-known bastion of peace would feel to know how her granddaughter’s hands are stained with blood? Her hands aren’t wet with blood this time when she looks, sitting on the rock amid a makeshift fire. Ossus is beautiful at night and the fire is comforting, even if she is wrapped in a green shawl to protect from how chilly it can get. Remember when you beat that one ISB agent to death with simply a rock, my dear? I had to punish you for being so sloppy when you knew better, but your brutality was always so … beautiful.

“It was wrong.”

Did it feel wrong, my dear?

“It felt good,” and Vie, her mind healer who she still can’t remember her actual name, tells her she must be honest with herself to move forward. “I felt powerful, but hurt people hurt people. I was hurting and I shouldn’t have done that.”

And the son—how old was he? Five, maybe? When he watched you repeatedly hit his father’s head with that rock, tell me: did his horror give you power?

Mara shakes her head, swallowing. “No,” and this is the truth. “I didn’t see him. I saw me. I kept hitting him because I saw me, and I hated myself. I envied him because I wanted to die. I knew it should’ve been me and not him. The only crime he committed was that you were bored and thought his time ran out.”

And you couldn’t even kill yourself correctly, my stupid, beautiful monster. The voice sneers. That is why you let the son of Skywalker win all those years ago, you foolish girl. And the noble cretin spared you.

“Because he’s better than us,” Mara replied hotly to oblivion. Her eyes sting and her throat aches, but she must put this voice to rest. “He isn’t damaged goods. He’s better and he thinks I can be better. I am not your beautiful karking monster anymore. I am not your little experiment. I am a person, and my name is Mara Jade. I was born in Coruscant on the fourth day of the fourth month. My parents were named Kor Kryze and Elora Mae. I’m not a karking number and I never kriffing was, you obsolete ghoul!”

Silence.

And for the first time in Mara’s life the invisible stone that held her down, made it so difficult to breathe, is lifted.

“I am incredibly proud of you, not that it matters,” a voice draws her away from the silent sobs that make her rock herself back and forth soothingly, and from the dying fire is the man who gave her dimples and a nose she isn’t terribly fond of, and while blue and translucent, he looks the picture of serenity. He looks at her hopefully with his light eyes shining. “I know my opinion, my pride, in you or your father holds very little considering my contribution to the both of you was horribly little, but I am.”

She can’t really form words, but she manages a breathless ‘how’ before her throat closes again. She never told Luke he couldn’t say anything, which is sort of on her. She still doubts he would’ve.

“I knew when you fought Luke that first time,” he says, and at the look of horror on her face his tone becomes much gentler, soothing. “It was like looking in the mirror in some ways, but mostly I saw your grandmother’s fire and my sadness. And you were just a little girl, just seventeen years old, and my heart broke.”

Nothing. She has nothing, and yet she has everything. She wants to ask everything and anything but all she can do is crumble, hiccupping in her silent sobs, her nose leaking snot most unbecoming.

He doesn’t care. He sees her and he is wistful.

In one world she could’ve been a Kenobi. In another, a Kryze. She isn’t certain if she wants to be a Skywalker yet; all she knows is that she, only if he wants it to, both wants to be railed by him so hard she can’t walk for days and also be the first person he sees when he wakes up in the morning and last when he goes to sleep at night. That isn’t here nor there. The present is now so when she finds her voice, she tells her grandfather her name with her head held high. Snot and all. “My name is Mara Jade.”

“Hello there,” the ghost beams, his grin all teeth, but it reaches his eyes, and they twinkle like little stars. “It’s an honor to properly meet you at last.”

#myfic #* mara jade is a kryze.#is this decent? eh.#is this remotely good? absolutely not which is why i am not tagging it.#i might not upload it to a03.

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letthisbeyourgreatest · 1 year

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Common people, nothing's changed (ooh)

You'll hear strangers singing your name (ooh)

If you act like you're one of us (ooh)

#louis tomlinson #nur talks sometimes #faith in the future

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notafraidofredyellowandblue · 1 year

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Flake's podcast - Talking / Reden

podcast 2023-04-11

youtube

Flake's topic this month is talking, and as talking takes up 70% of the time Rammstein spend together (or something to that extend was mentioned in a making of) (Pussy?), i had secretly hoped Flake would have fellow chat-enthusiast Paul as a guest this time but that didn't happen 😄

Flake right at the start explains his topic, he is of the opinion that no wars, violence, murder etc would happen if people would just talk to eachother. He gives an example (doing both persons), and because it's typical Flake-speak (which i ❤️) so i'll try to translate somewhat literally):

"Hi"

"Sooo....what are you?"

"Well, I believe so and so.."

"Oh, interesting, i believe this and that...and do you have a God?"

"Yeah, we do, but not a guy with a white beard.."

"Ah okay, yeah that would be silly.."

"And here with you?"

"Yeah we have something similar.."

"Oh, how nice.."

"Say..i heard you have this Paradise..do you believe in that?"

"Well, to be honest..not really, but i always think: you imagine something nice, and if it turns out it isn't, at least you had the fun of looking forward to it...and you guys, with those 40 virgins? Where are those supposed to come from?"

"Well yeah...i thought about that too, and well, you know...it can't hurt to wait and see...and maybe by that time i'm old anyway...and then with all those virgins.."

Can't you just imagine a Rammstein bandpractics going exactly like this 😊🥰

Anyway, for a podcast about talking, Flake actually doesn't tell many stories at all unfortunately. A quick mention of his dad at 1h07 when playing Daliah Lavi. Describing himself at 0h13 "Ich denke nicht nach, ich Plappere nur" (I don't think, i just chatter). At 0h46 mentioning the Rammstein technicians who talk tech-talk all day. But no longer stories from those..

Only one slightly longer childhood anecdote at 1h04 of young Flake listening to the radio before school, with his taperecorder at hand to record stuff he liked (i used to do the same, that was the time when you never knew if a song that was played would be played again...ever...i remember hearing a tiny snippet of a song once and managed to record only 10 seconds of it, and i never ever heard it again...until recently i found one of those 'guess your tune' website and when i hummed the few bits i knew, the website actually got to the right song 🤩 but okay...enough about me 😄). This one time Flake recorded a band who played Yiddish songs, because he thought this music was so moving. He played it for his parents that evening, and his mum asked Flake's grandmother, who could travel to 'the west' to buy an album for them. But the recordstore at the Kurfürstendam didn't have it and grandma got a record catalogue instead and that became Flake's favorite book. He read it many times and imagined which records he would buy if he could. The song he plays after that is the one he heard back then "Zog nit Keynmol" 🥰

After talking a bit more about how people should talke more, at 0h33 Flake realises that sometimes it's better not to say something, because when you say something nasty ('Wat Fieset' a phrase Paul also likes to use on occassion), you can never take it back. What is said is said. When you crossed a line in saying something nasty like "you're just like your mother" (Flake chuckles 😊), it's out there. So either say nothing, or something nice. 🌺

Music wise we *don't* have Die Ärzte this time, but we do have a Rammstein song: Du Hast at 1h36. This is about asking people things that are making them uncomfortable and have difficulty answering ("Du hast mich gefragt und ich hab' nichts gesagt", you asked me and i didn't answer). After the song Flake gives us his interpretation of the song: Do you tell your partner when you've cheated.. Flake thinks (after some consideration) it's always better to tell, at least that way your wife hears it from you and not through someone else. But whatever you do, if you cheated, don't out of a guilty conscience buy a big bouquet of roses for your wife, because all women are smart enough to see through that 🌺

Some other songs with a little something worth mentioning: at 0h05 Olaf Schubert with a dialog between a man and a woman in which Olaf does both parts. Olaf currently stars in a new movie 'Olaf Jagger' and Flake has a cameo in that movie 😊. At 0h29 another of Flake's favorite Berlin bands 'Icke und Er', and at 0h57 Shaban & Käptn Peng with 'Sie mögen sich'. Käptn Peng's real name is Robert Gwisdek and Rammstein fans may recognise that name, because he is the director of two recent Rammstein videos: 'Zeit' and 'Angst'.

At the end (1h51) Flake says goodbye, concludes that talking is good, because he has been talking the whole time and nothing bad happened to him 😊 Flake thinks everyone should try it, he knows people who haven't talked to their family in 8 years because someone once said something nasty, but Flake thinks you can make life difficult for yourself that way, when you could also just call them on the phone, have a little chat, whether it's kids, parents, grandparents, brothers-in-law, relatives, or uh..bandmembers huh-huh (Flake chuckles 😄)

It's the end of the show, but Flake will still be talking and so should you 🌺

🎹

More of my takes on Flake's podcasts

#flake's podcast #des tastenfickers podcast #flake lorenz #rammstein

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cinnabarmawar · 24 days

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My TMNT OC: Hiranur

Full name: Hiranur Omar

Nickname: Excorcist, Hira or Nur

Exits in tmnt iteration: TMNT 03, TMNT 07, and TMNT Monochrome (my own tmnt iteration takes place in tmnt 07 verse but also shares the same event with '12 and 03)

About her in general:

She also lost her parents in the triceraton invasions for both 03 and 07 iteration.

Nur is a drop out from school and works in flower shop and takes babysitting part-time job from time to time.

Lives with her neighbour, Aunty Mei.

She was once a temporary gang member. In 03 verse, she was with the turks but quitted a day after due to the ghosts haunting (telling) her to quit. In 07, she was with the purple dragon but a fail member of the gang and was kicked out

Carries a sharp scissor as her self defense weapon

Once experienced a hysteria and is recuperating from it

She can see and talk to ghosts in all universe of tmnt that she's in. Through the ghost she learns of the turtle's existence.

Her hijab is sometimes missing(due to the turtles parkour) from the clothes line. Hence the prayer garment(which is an old and worn one) is an option for her to wear when she's following the turtles sometimes

How she first met the turtle boys:

At first she dosen't believe in them because their ghosts and can bother/posess you if you answer them until upon her first encounter with them she had a crisis of their existence but she believed in the ghosts fearfully.

With their guidance, she followed them from afar at night when they patrol the city with the shellraiser and would also toss them some notes telling them to stay away from the abandoned gang warehouses and other haunted areas.

The turtles sometimes catch a glimpse of her and it's mostly in her prayer garment the one on the right(long hijab-like that's all white) and it's mostly Mikey who saw it and get startled by it while blurting out horror tropes when he does.

The turtles meet her in one of the purple dragons abandoned warehouse. Found her unconscious mostly in the same white prayer garment but it stops here.

Her personalities:

Easily frightened due to her six sense but it's also the same for facing mutants and fiesty delinquents but ever since she met the turtles she became a bit braver bit by bit.

Cautious comes from her hysteria experience and her early days when she discovered that she hs 6th sense. Nur either end up makes good or bad decision. She brings a pair scissors all the time as a self defense weapon

Knowledgable on supernatural myths and stuffs, including biology on plants.

Kind but still dosen't hesitate to whack if needed. Whenshe was watching the turtles from afar, one of the old ghosts would tell her to whack their each of their heads in the dark just to confirm that their not demons and she did it even running away before they see her. Mostly she ends up whacking Raph's and Donnie's head most of the time.

Nur and the turtles relationship:

Mikey: Closest along Donnie. Team B's best friend. They freak out about ghost together.

Donnie: Closest along with Mikey. They have lots of conversation.

Raph: She was a bit intimidated by him but once she gots to know his soft side, she warms up to him.

Leo: She was most cautious on him the most until she realise had a crush on him in one unfortunate rescue and she's head over heels. She had a crisis on it but got over it and is choosing the right time to confess to him. She gets shy with him

I have difficulties of summing it up but that's all I got bcs in different universe how they meet and the interactions are slightly different. Could say that it's more to writing for my TMNT iteration. I'm thinking of adding the rise version of her just maybe rewatch of rottmnt for the yokais part.

Anyway, this my tmnt OC Nur so far that I've worked on at least.

#tmnt #tmnt oc #oc bio #digital art #OC Nur #It's done #YAY YAY

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girlrenewed · 3 months

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More to me

Between you and me, I’ve left this in my drafts for a while, trying to find a way to write this without being perceived as self-victimizing or mildly obtuse. Because pretty girls do have more fun! I would be lying if I said I didn’t enjoy reveling in the beauty of being young.

But there is this ugly side to “pretty privilege” that no one talks about. A dark loneliness found in being constantly desired physically without any interest in peeling back the layers; the embodiment of being seen and not heard.

I’m what a lot of people would call a “late bloomer”. I have always been the person I am on the inside, but I didn’t really grow into my features or tap into my feminine sensuality until my late twenties. And up until recently, I took that as a compliment.

So many times I’ve been told that things ended because it was assumed I would be “too much”. That I had “too many options”. Preconceived ideas about me based on the way I look. And while I know a lot of that is rooted in insecurity, I’ve often left these situations with a feeling of raw inadequacy. “Was my face pretty, and my soul not enough?”

I love working out, I enjoy spending hours on my makeup, and sometimes there is something so satisfying about finding the tiniest mini dress possible to go out with my girls. I’ll never apologize for the way I look, and enjoying it. Because vanity and soulfulness are not mutually exclusive.

In a world that has been plagued by superficial interactions, recognize that aside from being enticingly beautiful (because you are), the way you love, your selflessness etched in grace and compassion, and the quirks about you that could never be seen from the other end of a bar are where your true beauty lies. And the right one will stick around long enough to appreciate that just as much.

The real privilege is to know you.

-Nur

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fitzrove · 1 month

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🤍 ?

🤍 White: What's a fanfic scenario or idea you'd like someone else to write so that you can read it?

I am answering this again with more ideas >:DD

Well I know you're working on a fucked up todolf fanfic... I want to read THAT... but outside of that here's some stuff:

- For the longest time I had an idea for a fic where Tod seduces FJ aksidopd because in some productions the girl from nur kein genieren is a todesengel. Cowards I think they should've just straight up put tod in like a minidress or something. Anyway fanfic writers can fix this

- LUCHENI X RUDOLF !!! or lucheni and todolf ot3... so much tension but they're actually surprisingly similar...

- Ooh another scrapped idea I had was Rudolf interacting with doctor!disguise!Tod. I'm not sure Tod would be great at it, based on his conduct in Maladie, but I think it lends itself well to something interesting........ up to the author how fast and how explicitly Rudolf recognises him (or not?)

- Rudolf reads the sorrows of young werther at an impressionable age and gets emo about it ajjwkdkf and tod s*icide baits him in a thematically relevant fashion

And something for under the cut because it's not that appropriate... 18+ readers only

Okay so if you know what performance I'm talking about you know... but sometimes with todolf there's an aspect of Tod not really caring about Rudolf and Rudolf realising it to some extent, but being unable to resist anyway. So I'm thinking of, like, a fic where in a k*nk way this would have to be a tod that actually cares about s*x for his own pleasure akskdl again if you know you know rudolf lets himself be used without getting much out of it, but he gets a huge kick out of being wanted. And maybe tod is still super cuddly in a possessive way afterwards, because he likes knowing that he can treat Rudolf like garbage and get away with it 😭 and rudolf is just like "oaagghh i guess sometimes depression really fucks you over. Anyway I don't have time to unpack why i'm into this" akdkdkdk

#thanks for asking 😂😭😭#asks #fanfiction

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lightup0nlight · 1 year

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🌟 ❛Verily, those who like that {faahishah} should be propagated among those who believe, they will have a painful torment in this world and in the Hereafter. And Allah knows and you know not.❜ [Surah an-Nur 24 :19]

In general, the word {faahishah} means lewdness, indecency, or a shameful act, and the Qur'an specifically refers adultery and liwaat as {faahishah}. When we carefully read the aayah, we'll realize that Allah ta'ala says:

❛Those who LIKE faahishah to spread ... will have a painful torment.❜ And not: ❛Those who DO and spread faahishah ... will have a painful torment.❜

The aayah isn't about someone who spreads faahishah, but it's referring to the one who LIKES the spreading of faahishah.

You know that TV show, where the host says: "You ARE the father!" And people would laugh watching it, thinking it's amusing. This is actually an example of the person mentioned in this aayah, because this show *is* talking about illicit acts, about faahishah, and it spreads into our homes. And that person likes it, enjoys it.

Sometimes a person loves listening to gossips about someone else's scandals. Or gets angry when a certain TV show or a movie that has elements of faahishah got cancelled, or some of those scenes got cut out.

Allah says those who like the spread of faahishah will have a painful torment both in this dunya and in the akhirah. Allah says there is a punishment even for just *liking* it!

Subhana Allah, that's really scary! Because sometimes we do this unknowingly. So it is from the Rahmah of Allah ta'ala that the next immediate aayah, He says:

🌟 ❛And had it not been for the Grace of Allah and His Rahmah on you, [He would have hastened the punishment upon you]. And that Allah is full of kindness, Most Merciful.❜ [Surah an-Nur 24 : 20]

Faahishah can corrupt one's imaan, and break down families and communities. We really need to take these matters seriously, and speak against the spreading of faahishah regardless of what people may say.

#Qur'an Reflections #salafiyyah #Islam #Deen #tadabbur #haya #UmarAlKhattab

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moondark00 · 2 years

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BTS Reaction: Wenn sie mit dir auf ein Date gehen / Ort BTS Reaction: When they go on a date with you / location

Ihr seit noch nicht zusammen aber ihr wisst Beide wie ihr für einander fühlt, doch ihr wollt euch erst etwas mehr kennen lernen und sehen bevor ihr zusammen kommt

You are not dating yet but you both know how you feel about each other but you want to get to know each other and see each other a little more before you start dating english is not my main language please consider that :)

Ger vers- Namjoon: - würde dich zu sich nachhause einladen um dort mit dir in Ruhe reden zu können und nicht von Fans oder anderen gestört zu werden, da ihm eure Zweisamkeit wichtig war. - würde Jin vorher fragen ob er für euch was kochen könnte weil er nicht die Küche zerstören will oder sich selbst nicht verletzten möchte . - Er würde im ersten Moment als er die Tür aufmachte und du davor standest nervös von deinem Anblick werden, jedoch gibt er sich gelassen und lies es nicht raushängen sondern lächelte nur sein typische Namjoon Lächeln . - Ihr unterhaltet euch über viele verschiedene Sachen so wie Interessen, was Namjoon sehr genoss. Du machtest ihm ein Kompliment über die Texte von BTS Songs die er schreibe und er wurde leicht rot um die Wangen „ Es freut mich das sie dir so gefallen Y/N" es war schön für ihn genau das von der Person zu hören für die er was empfand. - später am Abend fuhr er dich nachhause und als er dich zu Tür brachte, beugte er sich zu dir hinunter und gab dir einen sanften wenn auch für dein Geschmack zu kurzen Kuss. Eng vers-

Namjoon: - would invite you to his home to be able to talk to you in peace and not be disturbed by fans or others, because your togetherness was important to him. - would ask Jin beforehand if he could cook something for you because he doesn't want to destroy the kitchen or hurt himself. - He would be nervous from the sight of you the first moment he opened the door and you were standing in front of it, but he is relaxed and didn't let it hang out, just smiled his typical Namjoon smile. - You talk about many different things such as interests, which Namjoon enjoyed a lot. You complimented him on the lyrics of BTS songs he writes and he blushed slightly "I'm glad you like them Y/N" it was nice for him to hear that from the person he what felt. - later that evening he drove you home and when he brought you to the door, he leaned down and gave you a gentle kiss, albeit too brief for your liking.

Ger vers- Seokjin - Jin würde wir Namjoon ein Date zuhause im Dorm vorschlagen. - Er würde dich ein wenig früher zu ihm rufen damit ihr zusammen kochen könnt, da du gut kochen kannst war er beeindruckt und gab dir öfter Komplimente. - Es gab auch manchmal Situationen an dem er sehr nah hinter dir stand und über deine Schulte schaut um zu sehen wie du kochst. - Später wenn ihr dann am Essen seit versuchtest du nicht zu lachen bei den Mengen die er sich in den Mund stopfte, aber das scheiterte als er auf einmal anfing dir mit vollen Mund ein Kompliment zu machen „duuu siehhstt ssseehrrr schone auss Y/N"danach warf er dir einen typische WWH Kuss zu. - am Abend saßt ihr noch ein wenig zusammen und habt geredet bis er dich dann nachhause gebracht hat. Eng vers-

seokjin - Jin would suggest a date at home in the dorm like Namjoon. - He would call you a little earlier so you could cook together, since you are good at cooking he was impressed and complimented you more often. - There were also sometimes situations where he would stand very close behind you and look over your shoulder to see how you are cooking. - Later, when you were about to eat, you tried not to laugh at the amount he was stuffing into his mouth, but that failed when he suddenly started complimenting you with his mouth full "youuu look really nice Y/N" then he blew you a typical WWH kiss. - in the evening you sat together for a bit and talked until he brought you home.

Ger vers- Yoongi: - Er würde mit dir im Bett liegen und Kuschen während er die ganze Zeit am einschlafen ist. - Du würdest ihr öfter mal wecken damit ihr euch unterhalten könnt doch das einzige was er sagt ist „ ich bin zu müde Bae, lass und bitte nicht mehr reden" - da du selbst müde warst hattest du kein Problem damit und kuschelst dich näher an ihn bis ihr zusammen eingeschlafen seit, deine Hände lagen an seiner Brust und seine fest um deinen Rücken geschlungen. - später als ihr aufwacht habt ihr Hunger und er bestellt für euch Pizza und Pasta. Eng vers-

Yoongi: - He would lie in bed with you and cuddle while he's falling asleep all the time. - You would wake her up more often so that you can talk but the only thing he says is "I'm too tired Bae, please don't let us talk anymore" - since you were tired yourself you didn't have a problem with that and snuggled closer to him until you both fell asleep together, your hands on his chest and his wrapped tightly around your back. - later when you wake up you are hungry and he orders pizza and pasta for you.

Ger vers- Hoseok: -Er würde dich wahrscheinlich in einen Club mit hin nehmen um mit dir zu tanzen. - Dort würdet ihr dann die Tanzfläche ab rocken und die Menschen drum herum würden Platz machen weil sie bei euren perfekten moves sich neben euch schlecht fühlen und Angst haben sie würden aus Versehen von euch einen Tritt ab bekommen. - Du bemerkt selbst das die Menschen weg gingen und als du dich dann mehr auf Hoseok konzentrierst wurden deine Wangen rot da er mit seiner Hüfte etwas zu intim tanzte ( so etwa wie in Silver spoon ) - Als du dann aufhörst kam er zu dir und fing an dich an zu tanzen, er wollte nicht das du schon aufhörst, lustiger weiße wurdest du dadurch nur noch roter durch den Körperkontakt. - Als ihr dann nachts Nachhause seit kaufte er euch auf dem Weg noch Hamburger und Sprite, da ihr nach dem tanzen sehr hungrig wart. Eng vers-

Hoseok: -He would probably take you to a club to dance with you. - There you would then rock the dance floor and the people around would make room because your perfect moves make them feel bad next to you and they are afraid they would accidentally get kicked by you. - You notice yourself that people are leaving and then when you focus more on Hoseok your cheeks turned red because he was dancing with his hips a little too intimately (like in Silver spoon) - Then when you stop he came to you and started to dance you, he didn't want you to stop already, funny white you only got redder from the physical contact. - Then when you went home at night he bought you hamburgers and sprites on the way because you were very hungry after dancing.

Ger vers- Jimin: - Jimin würde mit dir ins Kino gehen und einen Film wählen der dir gefällt, es könnte alles sein du durftest ihn aussuchen sagte er. - Er würde dir alles kaufen was du zum Essen haben möchtest, aber du wolltest nicht zu gierig rüber kommen deswegen wolltest du nur Popcorn und etwas zu trinken. Jimin hat einfach für ein beide einen großen Eimer Popcorn geholt den ihr euch dann teilt. - Als der Film anfing war er nur auf dich konzentriert und sah dich immer wider von oben bis unten an, aber bleibt immer an deinem wunderschönen Gesicht hängen. Er beobachtete deine Mimik und musste lächeln. - langsam wurdest du etwas schläfrig und legtest deinen Kopf an seiner Schulter ab, dabei legte er den Arm um dich um dir ebenfalls etwas näher zu kommen. - als dann eine romantische Szene kam habt ihr euch im selben Moment angesehen und du wurdest rot, er ergriff gleich seine Chance und nahm dein Kinn zwischen Daumen und Zeigefinger, und legte seine vollen Lippen die du so mochtest, auf deine...Ihr Küsst euch. Eng vers-

jimin: - Jimin would take you to the cinema and choose a movie you like, it could be anything you were allowed to choose, he said. - He would buy you anything you wanted to eat, but you didn't want to come off too greedy so all you wanted was popcorn and something to drink. Jimin just got a big bucket of popcorn for both of you, which you then share. - When the movie started it was just focused on you and kept looking you up and down but always gets stuck on your beautiful face. He watched your facial expressions and had to smile. - slowly you got a little sleepy and laid your head on his shoulder, while he put his arm around you to get a little closer to you as well. - then when a romantic scene came up you looked at each other at the same moment and you blushed, he immediately took his chance and took your chin between his thumb and forefinger and put his full lips that you loved so much on yours...they kiss you.

Ger vers- Taehyung: - mit Taehyung würdest du Shoppen gehen, er würde dich in verschiedene Läden schleppen um seinen Geschmack auf dich zu übertragen. - Die Sachen die du schön fandest waren etwas teuer und du hattest ein schlechtes Gewissen als er alles er für dich alles bezahlt hatte, du sagtest ihm das auch aber er streichelte dir nur über den Kopf und sagte „Sehe es einfach als ein Geschenk an Süße". - er kaufte dir und ihm sogar den selben Pulli damit ihr in Partnerlook seit. - nachher würdet ihr euch in den Park zurückziehen und auf der Wiese sitzen, er würde dir die ganze Zeit in die Augen sehen aber nichts sagen, du würdest langsam Nervös werden und schaust weg. - „Du hast wirklich schöne Augen Y/N ....dir passen zu deinem gesamt Bild wirklich gut" er lächelte seit typisches Tae Lächeln. Du wurdest rot und verstecktest dein Gesicht mit deinen Händen, doch er kam dir näher und nahm deine Hände vorsichtig von deinem Gesicht. Als du ihn dann fragten ansahst küsste er dich liebevoll und sanft. Eng vers-

Taehyung: - with Taehyung you would go shopping, he would drag you to different stores to transfer his taste to you. - The things you thought were beautiful were a bit expensive and you had a bad conscience when he had paid for everything for you, you told him that too, but he just stroked your head and said "Just see it as a gift to sweetheart ". - he even bought you and him the same sweater so that you could look like a partner. - afterwards you would retreat to the park and sit on the lawn, he would look you in the eye all the time but not say anything, you would get nervous and look away. - "You have really beautiful eyes Y/N...you match your overall picture really well" he smiled that typical Tae smile. You blushed and covered your face with your hands but he came closer and took your hands carefully from your face.As you then looked at him for questions he kissed you lovingly and softly.

Ger vers- Jungkook: - Er wäre sich nicht sicher was genau ihr machen könntet also dachte er an diese typischen Geschichten mit Restaurant und das ganze ,aber das war ihm zu Klischee Haft und deswegen lädt er dich zu ihm ein. - da du ebenfalls gerne zockst hat er vorgeschlagen mit dir zu zocken, ihr warm im Wohnzimmer und habt Just Dance erst begonnen, die Jungs haben euch nur genervt angesehen und gingen dann in ihre Zimmer. -ihr wart beide lässig gekleidet und trotzdem ruhte sein Blick die ganze Zeit auf dir. Weshalb du ihn bei einem Tanz tatsächlich geschlagen hattest. - der nächste Tanz war etwas schwerer, zu schnell und zu viele komplizierte Moves, es war für dich alles viel zu schnell während Jungkook wesentlich besser vorankam. Als eine schnelle Drehung kam dreht ihr beide euch nur du verlorst das Gleichgewicht und fielst auf ihn drauf mit einem Schwung der euch beide von den Füßen schlug. - Ihr lagt beide auf dem Boden du jedoch auf ihm und lachtet, dabei waren deine Wangen rot gefärbt durch die Nähe. „Du musst etwas besser aufpassen Y/N sonst tust du dir noch weh, zum Glück bist du nur auf mich gefallen und nicht auf was anderes" . Eng vers-

Jungkook: - He wouldn't be sure what exactly you guys could do so he thought about those typical restaurant stories and all, but that was too cliché for him and that's why he invites you to his place. - since you also like to gamble, he suggested we gamble with you, you warm up in the living room and just started Just Dance, the boys just looked at you annoyed and then went to their rooms. -You were both dressed casually and yet his eyes were on you the whole time. Which is why you actually hit him at a dance. - the next dance was a bit harder, too fast and too many complicated moves, it was all way too fast for you while Jungkook progressed much better. As a quick spin came, you both spun only to lose your balance and fall on top of him with a swing that knocked you both off your feet. - You both lay on the floor but you on him and laughed, your cheeks were stained red by the proximity. "You have to be a little more careful Y/N otherwise you'll hurt yourself, luckily you only fell on me and not on anything else". please don't copy it meine Kapitel gibt es auch auf Wattpad https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/255824320-bts-reaktionen-

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