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#so it was kind of one special interest leading into another in a really unexpected way

optimisticstudentangel · 2 years

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Trying out some kinks with your partner

Warning: suggestive themes.

Diavolo and roleplaying

You liked your current relationship with the prince of the Devildom. He had all the right things in his personality. Such as his gentleness towards you, overflowing passion, special treatment which includes satisfying all your necessities, being open to try new things with you, and only you. Knowing that he is not able to say “no” to you, you suggested to do some roleplaying.

He loudly laughed. “Well. Aren’t you a curious one? Whatever makes you happy, I am happy to indulge.”

- That easily, - you asked in whisper.

- Why not, my lovely darling? I am intrigued to know your naughty phantasies, your unspoken desires… Will you tell me what exactly that you want?

- I want to take the lead and be the dominant one. Our roles will change, making me your master, and you my obedient servant. You will have to listen to my commands, is that clear? – you said with a confident voice. Diavolo was thrilled to see you in this light. He couldn’t say a word, but the blush on his face told you a lot. It was like a green light, that meant to keep going on.

- Yes… my master, I am here to serve you and your pleasure.

Barbatos and handcuffs

It all started too quickly, unexpected even. You remember Mammon mentioning about Barbatos’ torture room, and you decided to ask the butler about it. All of this must have been silly rumors, to discipline some demons, especially not behaving ones, right?

- Yes, Mammon is right. I do own a torture room – he answered in a monotone voice. He probably is tired of this question, because many curious demons like to bother him with it. “Why sudden interest?”

- Umm… Could you show it to me, if you don’t mind of course?

- Huh. All right. We might as well practice with some of my belongings, if you’d like – he stared at you with a smile. Was it a joke or…

He guided you to his room. It was full of doors, you were used to that, but you always wondered where he slept. He opened the old wooden door. Inside of the torture room was really dark. He snapped his fingers, and it momentously lit the light.

You observed your surroundings, you have never ever seen most of this torture devices.

- Impressing… - you said, only to fill the silence. “It is… something…”

- Heheh. Is there something particular you wish to experience? Or is it a simple curiosity… I see you gazing at my handcuffs.

- You are very watchful, - before you finished the sentence, your hands were already restrained. How did he exactly do that? You weren’t able to bat an eye.

- You must be more careful, dear. It was a simple trick, that anyone can become master at. Would you like to see my other ones? I am willing to show all of them, to satisfy your never-ending curiosity. But don’t worry, they are not painful, in fact just the opposite.

Simeon and blindfolding

Simeon invited you to his room, telling you to rush. You came as quick as possible. He handed you a box that was wrapped with a red bow.

- Huh?

- Open it, my love! It’s a present for you. I saw this beautiful ring, and immediately thought of you, how it would look great on your soft fingers. And I especially enjoyed the idea, gifting you something, you’ll wear all the time.

- That’s so sweet of you, Simeon! – you kissed him near to his lips, but not exactly. He caressed your waist, and came closer to you. One thing brings to another. And that’s when you find yourself being pushed on his bed.

- Oh. I’ve got an idea. Give me a sec. – he got out of the bed, leaving you anticipating for his touch.

- I will use this to cover your eyes, wouldn’t it be fun? I heard somewhere that this kind of play, makes people more sensitive, even light touches will leave intense effects.

Within seconds he folded your eyes with velvet ribbon. His tongue went up and down of your neck. You felt your arousal, and your hips started to form a friction.

- You really seem to be enjoying yourself, little lamb. Maybe I also should tie you up, so that your pleasure will depend on me?

Solomon and public places

You and Solomon were studying in the library till the evening. Every passing hour, sits became more empty, and most of the demons went home. You struggled to keep your attention on the book, looking at your phone, back and forth.

- Please, y/n, focus on the book. You will have plenty of time to waste when we will get home.

- It’s easy for you to say. I am super bored, besides, didn’t we do enough for today?

- Agh. If you keep whining this way, I will have no option, but to punish you… - he went silent, and then added “just kidding~”

- Huuh?

- Hahaha, you looked pretty shocked. But that’s cute. Maybe I indeed should do that, - his hands reached to your RAD uniform, and he started to take it off from you.

- Wait! What are you- he silenced you in a passionate kiss.

- Shhhh. Keep your voice down, or else somebody will hear us. You don’t want to be selfish, and disturb someone’s study session, do you?

#obey me #obey me side characters #obey me diavolo #barbatos obey me #solomon obey me #obey me simeon #diavolo x mc #barbatos x you #simeon x reader #solomon x reader

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zodiactalks · 1 month

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These 3 Zodiac Signs are ALWAYS TIRED

Not all zodiac signs are like Aries, full of energy and passion. Or as social as Libra. Or as spotlight-loving as Leo.

A few zodiac signs prefer to stay in the comfort of their home. Even at home, they are exhausted by the day-to-day routines life demands from them. The last thing they want to do with their time off is venturing out or socialize with people they don’t know.

So, let’s take a look at three zodiac signs that are always tired. They can be found at home, in nature, or somewhere else they find comfortable and peaceful to relax in. They love to rest in places where their senses are soothed.

Read on to find out who these three zodiac signs are that need a nap. And another nap later.

#1. Taurus

Taurus gets a bad reputation for being lazy.

That is far from the truth.

Taurus works day in (but not out, they need their sleep) for the lifestyle they want to achieve. As much as they wish money grew on trees, they know it’s not the case. Taurus are hard workers despite how exhausted they always are.

But catch them after work, and they will be relaxing in a snuggie napping, or finding chill entertainment. Not everyone is built to be in a constant state of go-mode, certainly not Taurus.

Taurus is often called boring because of their lack of interest in venturing out after a long week at work. Natural introverts, Taurus prefers to be alone, or with a select few people. They are protective of their home and energy. If they invite you over, they are entrusting you to not disturb their peace.

Taurus is an earth sign. This means their energy is as heavy as the earth and hard to get moving. It’s not uncommon for Taurus to sleep abnormal amounts for this reason.

If a Taurus comes along on an outing, they must really like you. It’s a near guarantee that they are debating how long they have to stay. You can probably catch them yawning and glancing at the time.

They may love you, but that rarely is enough to keep them energized. Taurus would rather be at home, thank you very much.

#2. Cancer

Cancer loves their home. It is where they feel most safe and secure.

They are always tired, which is why they love staying close to home.

Cancer enjoys sharing their cooking, crafts, and aesthetic home with friends and family. They are likely to host tea parties, game nights, special dinners or lunches, and more.

Hosting these kinds of home events allows Cancer to control the environment, as well as the people who are welcome. And don’t go bringing any unexpected plus ones, your Cancer host will not appreciate it.

Cancer is happy that they don’t have to account for travel time, which leaves them tired, especially after socializing.

As a water sign, Cancer is sensitive to their surroundings. If they can control their surroundings, the safer they feel.

They are glad to hop into pajamas and snuggle into bed after everyone leaves. This leaves Cancer feeling like they accomplished a goal while maintaining their peace and comfort.

#3. Scorpio

Not only is Scorpio always tired, they just prefer to stay at home.

Everything Scorpio does is a heavy output of energy, leaving them mentally and emotionally exhausted. Not everyone can flit from thing to thing with unlimited energy, certainly not the intense Scorpio.

Interacting with people, Scorpio is likely to be awkward at small talk. They much prefer to talk about meaningful things. Whether that is past experiences, future events, current projects, or the state of the world. Anything with depth, really.

As a water sign, Scorpio is diverse in their interests and can talk with anyone. So long as it isn’t shallow, idle chatter.

No topic is too extreme for a Scorpio to dive into for hours. In fact, this kind of engagement with another person can be energizing.

So long as they don’t get super emotionally invested. Then that can lead to another kind of mental and emotional burnout that leads them back to exhaustion.

#Zodiac #Zodiac Signs #ZodiacFacts #astrology #astrology signs #Aquarius #Aries #Cancer #Capricorn #leo #libra #Sagittarius #Pisces #taurus #scorpio #Gemini #virgo

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lady-lazagna · 2 years

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I'm not super back into Bakugan (that five-year solo special interest phase will be missed) BUT impulse buying a Shun funko pop has reignited something in me

SO I'm gonna write some random headcanons of the core six (anything after season one doesn't exist to me lol sorry) and their Bakugan:

-Hitting Shun with the Autisti-fication beam. Only talks when he feels it's important, super observant, can't tell you how he feels for the life of him (I am him, actually). In my hc, he's pretty sensitive to bright lights, fucking hates people touching his forearms or neck, as is over-empathetic.

-Runo wants to be a lawyer. No one's 100% sure where this ambition came from, but it likely has something to do with the constant sexual harassment she faces in her current workplace under the watch of her criminally ignorant father... but who knows🤷‍♀️

-Always designating this hc to the loudest mf in the show, but Dan is a youtuber. That guy is an absolute Clout Chaser. He'd do a lot of irl stuff I think, like challenges, pranks, storytimes- and of course, a lot of Bakugan content. Some would compare him to David Dobrik. He'd fucking kill those people.

-Julie lifts. Girl could bench-press you in a heartbeat. When she gets excited, she'll just grab whoever's closest to her and twirl them around like a doll. However, she's learned to ask people if they're okay with this beforehand since becoming friends with the aforementioned autistic ninja. ^^^

-Alice listens to Death Grips when she knits. That's it. Guillotine has the best rhythm for knitting in her opinion.

-Marucho had a big "in a silly goofy mood😋" phase after he stopped being his parents' bitch. He tried really hard to do silly and "outlandish" things that were actually like... bare minimum. He used an empty chip packet as a hat and thought he was going completely off the rails.

-Obviously Runo swears the most out of the group- girl has a lot to say, and a lot of it consists of "you dumb fucking bitch." Dan tries to swear just as much, but it doesn't come naturally to him so it always feels very off when he does. Marucho, Shun, and Julie don't swear as often, but when they do, it's always unexpected and very hilarious. Alice is the only one who actively doesn't want to swear.

-On the Bakugan's end, Preyas uses a lot of old-timey slang for swear words. Dan told Drago that "fuck" is interchangeable with "play" and insanity ensued. Gorem tries not to swear because he knows it's impolite. Tigrerra also thinks it's impolite, but sometimes you just need to call your fellow Bakugan a bitch (and damn does it feel good, even if they have no idea what you're talking about). Skyress only swore once, when she told Shun's grandpa that she fucked Shun's mum. Hydranoid has never heard a swear word in his life and Alice is determined to keep it that way.

-Little self-insert shipper Laz would kill current me for this, but it has to be said: Dan, Runo, and Shun are in a polyamorous relationship. Three bisexual icons. It was bound to happen. I could write a whole post about their relationship if I could be bothered. Maybe I will be bothered one day.

-Actually maybe the entire gang is bisexual (except for maybe Alice... we need a lesbian other than the pretty evil Vexo lady). At first I thought about making Julie a lesbian, because then she'd be a pink femme lesbian (just like me fr), but I do kind of like her relationship with Billy, so she's yet another bicon. I've also heard of this dude named Tsubasa Ren that Marucho has a thing for, so *slams fist on table* ANOTHER BICON.

-Okay maybe the Vexos and the Resistance and whatever other fucking aliens they added do exist to me, I'll just ignore their entire storyline and how they fucked over my three leading ladies.

Aight that's it for now. Idk if headcanoning works the same way here as it does in the beyblade world, so if you're upset by me making them autistic and gay, I offer you my sincerest eat my ass.

#new vestroia onwards is bakugan's shogun steel #I love ignoring canon #bakugan #bakugan battle brawlers #shun kazami #runo misaki #dan kuso #julie makimoto #alice gehabich #marucho marukura #preyas #dragonoid #gorem #tigrerra #skyress #hydronoid #headcanons

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rosemaryreaper · 7 months

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Valentine! Longfic progress! Huzzah!

I finally finished this scene that I posted a while back. Only took me a year. At last, here’s the continuation of Ros and Nick’s first meeting (aka, Nick confusing the hell out of Ros for the entirety of their interaction). Always expect the unexpected in the wasteland—unless the unexpected is whatever this bizarre synth is.

* * * *

When he was about thirty feet away, she raised her own pistol, pulling back the hammer with an audible click. He slowed to a stop. “Not another step,” she ordered. “Not until you state your intention.”

Carefully, he raised his hands alongside his head, his finger off the trigger. When he tilted his chin up, her grip tightened on her gun. Whoever had built him clearly knew nothing about humans. His eyes, which were no longer hidden under the brim of his fedora, were as about as far from human as they could possibly be. They were luminescent. Harsh yellow irises burned around off-color pupils, so chilling and unnatural and…synthetic.

Thirty feet was too close.

“Easy there,” he said with a voice like fine gravel. “I’m not looking to start trouble.”

“That would be a first.”

His lips quirked into a crooked grin. “Heh, I’ll give you that.”

“You a synth?” she asked.

“And here I thought I was hiding it so well,” he said wryly.

“Don’t see many synths where I’m from.”

“Says the one wearing a synth helmet.”

“Don’t see many live synths where I’m from,” she corrected. Of course, the synth she had taken the helmet from had already been dead (to use that term loosely) when she had found it. But he didn’t need to know that. “Certainly none of them looked like you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m special,” he said with a hint of impatience. “Are you going to shoot me, or should I keep pretending to be a signpost?”

“Depends. Are you going to shoot me?”

“No.”

“Then what do you want?”

“To trade. You got any ammo?”

“Ammo,” she repeated. “Are you insane?”

Without removing either hand from her gun’s grip, she tapped the V.A.T.S. button again. It found no new targets. Same disappointing percentages too. The sole change was the question mark, which had finally been replaced with words: “Gen 2 Synth.” Ros had had the misfortune of seeing a Gen 2 before. Besides all the plastic and metal, this one was about as similar to it as a Corvega was to a bicycle. Though which was the Corvega and which was the bicycle she was still deciding.

Frustrated, she thumbed her V.A.T.S. off. She could hit a target on her own at a hundred yards. Maybe not every shot, but enough to count.

“Got a problem with good old-fashioned bartering?” he asked.

“Do I look like a trader?”

Admitting you were low on ammo to a stranger in the middle of nowhere was stupid. She would scavenge through garbage before ever making herself that vulnerable. She had the horrible suspicion, however, that “stupid” and “vulnerable” weren’t words that applied to a sentient machine, and it raised the hair on the back of her neck.

The synth shrugged, which was such a casually human gesture that she had to restrain a flinch. “Caravans have all manner of pack animals. Got reports from down south about a man who leads a yao guai like it’s a brahmin.” He tipped his hat towards Winnie. “But I’ll admit this would be a new one.”

Winnie snorted in acknowledgement. Ros resisted the urge to swing a leg over her back and flee, broken ankle be damned. Instead, she threw caution to the wind and demanded, “What kind of ambush is this?”

“Ambush?” he said, infuriatingly unbothered. “Expecting some company now, are we?”

She didn’t lower her gun. “You tell me.”

“I’m flattered you think my spry knees could handle it, but I’m a bit too old for hide-and-seek, kid.”

“What are you?”

“I’m a detective.”

Ros said, “No, really.”

“You think I wear this getup to the beach?”

“Hell if I know.”

“The name’s Valentine,” he said. “Nick Valentine, P.I.”

Ros had no interest in returning this baffling introduction. She asked, “Why would the Institute build a detective?”

He said, “Hell if I know.”

“You’re a synth.”

“Sure, and we all swap gossip at the annual Christmas party.” The words were sharp enough to cut skin. “I don’t give a damn what was going on in those bastards’ heads, not that they had a clue themselves half the time. They’re dead—or they should be.” He jerked his chin at her, his hands still raised. “You have a synth helmet and a synthetic horse. Folks around here wouldn’t call that a good look.”

Ros was glad her helmet hid her face, though it didn’t hide the surprise in her voice. “I’m not Institute.”

“I can see that. Lose the blue jumpsuit?”

Absolutely not. She had the gun. She was not going to stand here and be interrogated by a walking scrap heap. “You wanted to trade. Either make an offer or scram.”

He studied her for a heartbeat too long. “Two stimpaks for a box of .44’s.”

Okaaay. “I’m not robbing you.”

“My walking away without any new holes is part of the bargain.”

She bit back an exasperated groan. Against her better judgment, she let her aim drop to the ground. He lowered his hands—then went an extra step further by returning his gun to the shoulder holster within his coat. Struggling to mask her bafflement, she said, “At least make it two boxes for two stimpaks.”

“Deal,” he said, and patiently waited for her to signal that it was okay for him to approach. She crooked her fingers, mildly stunned.

Oh, my god. She was robbing him. She didn’t even know what was going on, and she was robbing him. He was letting her. What was wrong with the people here?

Up close, he wasn’t much prettier. His uncanny eyes were too bright under the brim of his hat. Chunks of skin weren’t just missing—half his throat had been torn out. A massive, jagged gash stretched from the base of his neck all the way to his right ear, exposing more of his metal innards than she had any desire to see. His patchy trench coat had certainly seen better days too. Seams that had been resewn a dozen times already were threatening to unravel, and she couldn’t tell if that shade of brown was the actual fabric or just plain old dirt.

And yet…there was something about the whole strange getup. The loose tie, the carelessly buckled sash, the bizarre way he moved and spoke—the character of it all. She didn’t quite want to shoot him, and she didn’t quite want to run either. He had her curious.

It was always her downfall.

#neither have any idea what they’re in for #*evil author laughter*#nick valentine #ros markey #rosemary reaper #fallout 4 fanfic #fallout 4

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adamwatchesmovies · 11 months

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Enter the Warriors Gate (2016)

Enter the Warriors Gate a.k.a. The Warriors Gate is bad but kind of cute. I could even see some viewers looking past its numerous and obvious flaws and having a good time. That ending though; it’ll convince just about everyone that what they just saw has been done better elsewhere.

Teenaged Jack Bronson (Uriah Shelton) is a wizard at video games. His skills lead a real-life warrior from the past, Zhao (Mark Chao), to confuse him with a skilled fighter. Zhao must protect Princess Su Lin (Ni Ni) from Arun the Cruel (Dave Bautista), who wants to force her into marriage and steal her kingdom. After the princess is kidnapped, Jack is transported to the past and forced to fight.

This setup is nothing special. A normal teen is brought to a mystical world whose inhabitants confuse him for a mighty warrior. Most of the time, our hero/heroine finds a way to become the person they need to be by using knowledge of history or by replicating modern-day technology to combat their enemies. This story by Luc Besson (yes, really) and his frequent collaborator, Robert Mark Kamen gives Jack many unearned wins. Most come rapid-fire in the last 15 minutes of the story where a happy ending is basically served on a golden platter. Many come even earlier. Uriah Shelton looks about as Chinese as a Big Mac but he communicates with all of these people from the past with no problem. They just stop speaking Mandarin a couple of minutes into the film… until the end when director Matthias Hoene suddenly remembers he's trying to appeal to both Western and Eastern audiences simultaneously.

The biggest surprise is that this film never dusts off that old “This hot dog, what kind of dog is it made from?” line. When we learn Jack lives alone with his mom, you assume it’s either so the film can have our hero eventually overcome the grief born from his parents' divorce or so we can swiftly shoo mom away and get the adventure started. Guess which one Enter the Warriors Gate chooses to go with. I’ll give you a hint. It can’t even manage to get its title's grammar correct, much less handle complex character arcs.

Where this picture wins some points is in the comedy. There are numerous off-hand remarks made by Arun the Cruel and his chief executioner that’ll make you laugh. Once in a while, it’ll blindside you with some unexpected gags and you’ll take a break from laughing at the film to laugh along with it. And there are numerous reasons for you to ridicule this adventure. Most come during the conclusion. Even before then, there’s some bad and needless CGI, awful wigs, and cringe-inducing dance numbers. The writing is quite poor, particularly when you realize the wizard (Francis Ng) introduced at the beginning of the movie could’ve probably done everyone a favour by single-handedly defeating the baddie on his own.

Enter the Warriors Gate feels like a release from 30-40 years ago. Everything about this tale you’ve seen done before, many times. Seemingly aware of this, it tries to keep things interesting by having both someone from another world comes to ours, and the reverse too. At least the actors are likeable, which goes a long way. It’s competent but never inspired. (April 4, 2020)

#Enter the Warriors Gate #The Warriors Gate #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Matthias Hoene #Luc Besson #Robert Mark Kamen #Mark Chao #Ni Ni #Uriah Shelton #Dave Bautista #2016 movies #2016 films

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camp-counselor-life · 1 year

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Nonprofits: the myths

I feel like there are a lot of myths out there about nonprofits, especially around the holidays when a lot of people are giving. So here are my answers to common myths surrounding nonprofits.

There is one kind of nonprofit - False. There are multiple kinds of nonprofits, with the biggest being 501c3 (charitable orgs) and 501c4 (civic and political orgs). According to this website, there are 27 (!) types of nonprofits. Even within 501c3s there’s a lot of variation, because that’s where orgs that we traditionally think of like Girl Scouts go, but also churches, hospitals, and private foundations.

All nonprofits cannot be politically active - Half false. Some types of nonprofits have more or less restrictions on their political activity, like lobbying or whether they can endorse a candidate/politician. Some nonprofits have multiple but separate arms to accomplish their political needs. Planned Parenthood that provides healthcare to low income women and accepts tax exempt donations? Couldn’t endorse Biden. Planned Parenthood Action Committee (PPAC) that is a 501c4? Few political restrictions.

Nonprofits must spend all of their income annually - False. Nonprofits are allowed to keep some revenue from year to year for unexpected expenses, or years when expenses exceed income. They can have investments as well. They just must report their expenses and income on a 990 form (see below).

It is good for nonprofits to always be under 20% overhead - False. A good nonprofit balances using money for programs with using money to pay staff a living wage. Many nonprofits that spend 20-30% or less of their revenue on overhead often means they seriously underpay staff and lack necessary resources (staff or physical) to carry out programs. Is it bad that certain nonprofits ridiculously overpay CEOs? Yes. But that program staffer who makes $3/hour less than living wage? Should be paid fairly. Chronic underpayment and under resourcing leads to high burnout and turnover, which is good for nobody.

Restricted donations are the best thing for a nonprofit - Often false. Nonprofits know what they need better than most donors. For example, if someone gave a 10k restricted donation to STEM at my council that could only be used for program supplies, like, that is not a good use of that money. It would be better used to pay camp staff (for example) because I can get nowhere without the support of my staff. I can buy tablets or Chromebooks, but I need people to use them. Trust your favorite nonprofit to spend money wisely.

Nonprofits can’t charge for their programming - False. Nonprofits are allowed to charge for things, like membership, admission to their venue, or for special events. Many museums are nonprofits and can charge, and many nonprofits charge for events as well. This is often subsidized by fundraisers or grants, but not entirely paid for. For example, for most of my events at work, the kid’s fees cover the event expenses, but my salary and the building costs are paid for in other ways (cookies, grants, donations, etc). Sometimes we also get grants/donations to subsidize events though, especially if we’re working with underserved groups or we want to put on a really big event.

Nonprofit finances are a mystery - False. Nonprofits are required to publish their recent finance reports on their website. You can also find them in the form of a 990 form on this website (Candid) as well as many others. 990 forms must be freely available and they’re really interesting. Like, my council spends about two-fifths of it’s expenses on salaries. Salaries are expensive! And we still have low pay, but that’s another issue.

So what does nonprofit mean then? Nonprofit basically just means that we don’t pay out profits to shareholders or board members. There’s tons of ways to be a nonprofit, some better than others, but hopefully this is a little overview of what nonprofits are truly like.

#full-time Girl Scout

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ramonadecember · 2 years

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I love one wolfy boy and I wanna know E V E R Y T H I N G about him

Ivan

5, 12, 27, 30

oc questions.

my little pup! my favorite double agent!

5. Do they have any tattoos? If so what are they and do they have any special meaning?

Ivan has some tattoos, yeah, but at present none of them of them have any great significance. Like most of Cullen’s, Ivan’s tattoos are magical ones. Lots of symbols/ruins/designs tied to his type of magic, and the large majority span up his hands and arms. Later on he’ll likely acquire some more meaningful ones, he has some… thoughts, but for now it’s just those.

12. Do they have any sense of style? Regardless of the answer do they believe they have a sense of style?

His sense of style is ‘as much black clothes as possible’ haha. Pre-living in the palace, Ivan’s dress was a little rougher, a little edgier, but always in black from head to toe. The only other ‘color’ you might have found on him was silver from all the rings (and some other jewelry) he tends to wear. Ivan might not consider himself ‘fashionable,’ but he always thought he looked good. Now that they’re trying to pass him off as some level of nobility, Ivan has had to significantly clean up his look, but the black theme remains. There is also noticeably more color making it’s way into his wardrobe, but that’s really only because he’s gotten into the habit of swiping clothes from Bannan, Cullen, and Sasha.

27. Has a chance encounter ever had an unexpected effect on them?

ABSOLUTELY. A ‘chance encounter’ is how Ivan ended up where he is now. When Ivan was still aligned with ~the bad guys~ he was sent to fuck up a camp full Crown soldier. The prince was not supposed to be there, there was no reason for him to be, and there was DEFINITELY no reason for the prince to recognize him when they hadn’t seen each other since they were 15. But maybe that’s because Ivan figured that to Bannan, he was just the son of one of the palace workers, another boy conveniently his age that he got on well with. Not Bannan’s best friend whose getting taken away from the palace crushed him. That first run-in started a series of events (and questionable decisions) that lead to Ivan then working for the Crown (and not ending up dead in a ditch, which is where his prior life path was heading—and fast).

30. If they had the chance to be famous would they take it? If they are famous would they rather they weren't?

Oh god no, he’s not famous and would NOT want to be. Ivan functions by flying under the radar, it’s kind of a big necessity for what he does, and he tends to like to apply it to the rest of his life. At times it can be a little difficult since he’s attached at the hip to a future king, but Bannan and all he is often pulls enough focus that people have little interest in Ivan’s presence, and that’s honestly the way he likes it.

#TWO in one night? unheard of #oc: ivan #oc tag #ask memes #oc memes

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ganymedesclock · 2 years

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Like, not to sound like the evil overlord list- which I otherwise kind of dislike- but I am in fact very passionate about the logistics of organization in fictional structures, and I think that it’s actually worth noting that the majority of evil fictional organizations are actually. Very badly organized.

It’s not really a plot hole- many antagonists have a sense of massive arrogance and entitlement such that they don’t want to think about what “the help” is doing and punish said help for bringing problems to them. It’s also the inevitable result of like. If a Massive Evil Empire sprouted or expanded rapidly and is sinking the majority of its resources into further expansion. Or, hell, if you just have a really hot gig going and a lot of people want to join up, they’ll often have conflicting and selfish goals, because they may or may not have thrown other people under the bus to become your toady in the first place and their coworkers, or even you, may be next in line depending on their needs.

Like, villains are villains for a reason and often those reasons lead to inefficient behavior, because, actually, a lot of the most efficient behaviors for working with other people are things that we generally perceive as Nice, because a lot of our rules of politeness are basically in a broad sense, that we live in a society, and we think it’s good to facilitate what makes the society go.

(For example, that one post that went around about people talking about small town vs. big city manners; in a rural environment a high amount of personal socialization is expected because you’re going to be stuck with these same eighteen people for years on end and it’s good to work to not want to strangle them or at least simulate well enough; in an urban environment, large numbers of people are going through at a time and there’s an expectation of respected privacy so it’s expected to be as streamlined as possible. These are generalizations- a bunch of other factors weigh into it- but in all cases, the unifying theory is that ‘polite’ is what makes things collectively easy)

Generally speaking, if you want the most efficient way possible to run an organization, the result is ‘don’t have mooks’. This makes a certain amount of in-universe sense; having a smaller number of highly educated and trained people who know what’s going on and can independently reason about it does have drawbacks (it means it’s had to replace people, and you don’t have large numbers of bodies to throw at a problem, skills will be specialized making it even harder for one person to fill in for another) but it also means that you can move as efficiently as possible.

And it also actually, out-of-universe, pays dividends in a fictional context: if I introduce thirty people in storm trooper helmets the audience MIGHT get attached to one of them who does something memorable but even if they’re individuals inside, the genericness of them is going to prevent a lot of attachment to individuals.

Conversely, if I introduce an antagonist and their extremely personalized strike force that is individually color-coded and has personal areas of specialization, the audience is going to be invested in them. Not in the sense that they’re good people- they may actually be far more obviously worse people to each other and the world in general- but they’ll come off more interesting. This is often in play whether or not there are mooks- if anything it’s often used as a kind of focusing agent, of who seems like the actual threats. If you see ten mooks and one guy in a black coat with a lot of jewelry you know immediately who to look at. And it’s going to be unexpected if something bad happens to the black coat guy and the story actually follows the ten mooks who are now going “shit, what do we do?”

#writing ruminations #this kind of overlaps with the conceptual roots of 'the butler did it'#dividing audience attention and sympathy.#a mook is a mook because we're (not expected to) care much about them #because they're metatextually expendable. they're red shirts.#if anything bad is going to happen that isn't supposed to be a huge dramatic game changer it's gonna happen to them #and like all receptacles of the audience's total confidence #it is immensely satisfying to mess with #but I do think it's very funny #that like... in reality if you treat a 'mook' like a real person #it actually is a solid protection against certain mook-related tropes

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inkdemonapologist · 3 years

Photo

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

nEW SESSION (summary here!), where there’s been an unexpected development to the music issue and its time to [checks my notes] taLK TO THE PROPHET AND BREAK INTO SUSIE’S APARTMENT??? Also, the Prophet and Joey have made.... a truce(???), Prophet is concerned Sammy isn’t going to stay on task now that music is returning and has left him a sort of alarming note, and Jack is uh, trying to hold, too many things, maybe some things he shouldn’t be holding, Jack please put those things back,

anyway heres a stack of out-of-context quotes from our session under the readmore:

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Jack] My favourite thing is, there are so many reasons that Henry could've avoided things that I have no idea WHY Henry isn't affected. [Jack] Like, is he not affected because his art isn't a performance? Is he not affected because he warded his house? Is he not affected because he'S FILLED WITH GLOWING BLOOD?!?

[Jack] He got as far as feeding his cat, and I feel like feeding cat isn't a performance-- [Sammy] Not usually, not unless you sing a song to your cat, which-- [Jack] Awww! [Sammy] -- which, now that I've said that, sounds like something Jack would do actually,

[Sammy] Ohhhh, that's right, Joey just heard some people play some bad notes and start panicking, and then he stood up and passed out, [Jack] Which is probably how Sammy feels every time he hears people mess up music!

[GM] He finds news on the radio, but they’re not talking about that right now. [Joey] What are they talking about? [GM] Something mundane; business or sports or something. [Jack] The, the sportsball team, got a…..uh….. a, a point. Congratulations, sportsball,

[Joey] If the sportscasters sound normal, then Joey is instantly VERY ANGRY.

[Henry] Henry’s not very musically inclined, but he knows some songs, [Sammy] Like, can you hum Twinkle Twinkle Little Star -- [Jack] “Anyway, here’s Wonderwall.”

[Jack] Jack has made a vague list of the kinds of people who seem to be affected. [Jack] There’s also “NOT HENRY?????” with a bunch of question marks in this list.

[GM] He’s told that Peter is out of town for a week. [Jack] Hmm. [Sammy] PETER WHERE ARE YOU GOING? [Jack] Hmmmmmm. [Sammy] Jack, is Peter coming here, to check on you, [Jack] HMMMMMMMMMMMMM,

[Sammy] *exasperated* NPCs Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Challenge [Henry] Stop Getting Involved In The Occult Or Draw 25

[Joey] Peter had never seen a Bendy cartoon, and this needed to be fixed. [Joey] The premier is this weekend, and he sent tickets to Pete to correct this, error, in his ways. [Jack] ...I think it is very slowly dawning on Jack, that this means that Pete has been pulled directly into yet another… supernatural nonsense... [Sammy] WE DIDNT DO THIS ONE!!

[Sammy] I CAN’T BELIEVE PHONES ARE THE ANTAGONIST OF THIS ADVENTURE

[Henry] Oh wait--! oh, no, nevermind, I forgot he and Allison probably aren’t together yet. [Sammy] Yeah, I think they just met; they had a meet-cute where they found out they both like Frankenstein and that’s it. [Jack] They actually got married today, since nothing else was happening at the Studio, [Sammy] That’s why Allison hasn’t shown up, she was busy getting married!

[GM] Bendy might’ve been keeping tabs on Henry, but it depends I guess on how distressed Joey is seeming. [Joey] Joey is probably just going to bury his sorrow in studying magic. [GM] Okay! That’s fine and normal Joey behaviour!

[Sammy] Sammy will note that nothing got done in the music department, because he has good priorities.

[Jack] I like the idea that it’s just like, when the teacher isn’t in, and nobody does the work the substitute teacher gave you, [Jack] Everyone’s just playing pokemon in the back, [GM] I thought you were going to say “poker,” but I like the way you ended the sentence better.

[Jack] HMMMMMM. I wonder if we know, any suspicious women, who were around on that specific day, who are known to have, skill and interest in magical things, [Joey] And also were aware of the cutouts, [Sammy] *cheerfully* Yeah, weird! Anyway!!!!

[Jack] Sammy was acting weird about Allison. Far too agreeable for a Sammy!

[Sammy] *talking about Prophet* If you want to lock him in somewhere, or restrain him, I’ll cooperate. [Jack] Just handcuff him to Jack! [Sammy] SAMMY IS UNEASY WITH THAT PLAN, [Jack] *laughing* What could go wrong! It’s not like Jack is significantly less strong or anything!!

[Jack] Not everyone makes up their entire self, Joey!!! (Affectionate)!!

[Sammy] I give my word, my sheep! [Henry] How good is your word? [Sammy] I mean. It’s pretty good.

[Henry] Henry’s trying to decide if it would be rude to doodle during this very serious conversation. [Jack] I mean, Jack is taking notes, so I feel like-- [Joey] --you can get away with fake note-ing. [GM] No one will know! [GM] Well, Bendy will know, because he’s up high. [GM] Ceiling Bendy

[Sammy] He’s not gonna give you a grade afterwards, like, this isn’t a lecture, [Jack] Time for Prophet Pop Quiz!

[GM] What’s Prophet writing? [Sammy] Um, I gotta think about this... [Jack] “Dear Frightened Shepherd, that Allison person sure is nice, isn’t she?” [GM] “What’s up with everyone ragging on her?” [Joey] “I think I have finally found a way to bridge the gap between us!” [Jack] “I think you need to replace your sheep, they seem kind of suspicious for no reason,” [Jack] “To Do List: Get Better Sheep”

[Sammy] Does this feel like something that’s trying to take his focus, like, very compelling creative ideas? [GM] Yes. [Sammy] ...Prophet will write “don’t get distracted” five more times.

[GM] His mind is abuzz with thoughts of dancing and actoring, [GM] Ideas to be the best Joey ever! [Jack] Oh no.

[Joey] He will wave at the cutout and make a “come here” motion. [Joey] Though also, he’s looking at the cutout like, I’m not quite sure how this works, but I’m going to trust you that it works! So I’m going to do this and see if Bendy shows up! [Jack] Like someone trying to learn how to do phone video calls for the first time, [Joey] YES. Joey’s actually like really close to the cutout, and the motions -- you can make them out, but it’s really awkward,

[Sammy] They’re in no danger. I will take care of the Shepherd’s sheep. [Jack] ...JACK’S BEEN DOWNGRADED!! He’s no longer PROPHET’S sheep!

[Joey] I like how everything Prophet says really just feels like, Knife Cat face.

[GM] You could probably make a Mythos roll to figure it out. [Joey] *rolls* Oh! Extreme success! [GM] Joey’s back!

[GM] Bendy will lead Joey back to the room, where hopefully there are three alive, non-fighting boys!

[Jack] Part of me was like, “What if Jack DOES turn into a cat…?! It’d be pretty hard to write things!” [GM] *laughs* We’ll keep that in our back pocket, in case Jack ever fails a Mythos check. [Jack] Meowthos check…

[Henry] I’m going to have Henry look, look with his Special Eyes.

[Sammy] *failing a roll* Prophet is just, NOT on the ball today, in any way shape or form. [GM] Really hard not to think about music. : ) [Sammy] Ohhhhhh boy, [Jack] Prophet just writes a note to Sammy that says “HOW do you LIVE like this???”

[Henry] Henry’s gonna try to scribble what he remembers of the symbol! [Sammy] Didn’t we learn, from the last scenario, about reproducing weird symbols, [Henry] No.

[Joey] Did Joey get burnt? [GM] Make a dexterity roll! : ) [Henry] *mumbling* Y’all this entire building is made of wood. *Joey fails* [GM] 1 point of damage, you singe your hand -- on the plus side, you kind of were holding it as it burned up, so it doesn’t fall on the wooden floor. [Sammy] OH GOOD, we’re not LOCKED IN A CLOSET that’s about to burn down? GREAT!

[Joey] We could head over to the infirmary -- [Jack] Jack is already pulling the burn ointment out of his bag. [Jack] He’s prepared this time! [Jack] He’s been practicing, he knows what you’re all like,

[Joey] Joey will give him a smile that’s most recognisable as the “I know you will do good!” smile. [Sammy] Prophet will also smile! It is not a friendly smile. [Jack] It’s a “smile” in quotation marks, but it’s like, baring your teeth as an act of aggression.

[Jack] Jack lets him go to do the call, but just before he picks up the phone, he says, “Don’t call him Petey.”

[GM] The phone rings, and is not answered. [Joey] Okay! Joey hangs up, says Peter checked into his room, but is not answering. Most likely asleep. [Jack] Half of my brain is going, “what if he’s just stood outside Jack’s house?” The other half of my brain is concerned about manias. I hope he’s not decided that now is a really great time to do more writing, and now he can’t stop, and this could go wrong-- [Jack] This is what Jack’s mind is doing, thinking of all the terrible possibilities. [Joey] While humming. [Jack] ...yes. He’s writing some very troubling lyrics.

[Sammy] *talking about Jack’s compulsive humming* Like Cornifer, [Jack] *starts humming Cornifer’s theme* Dangit, now it’s in my head, why would you do this to me? [Sammy] It’s in character! [Sammy] Method acting. : )

[Joey] Joey’s going to grab supplies to make sure Bendy can… hang around with them! [Joey] Sleepover supplies! Let’s grab your sleepover bag! :D

[Sammy] I don’t know why the idea of a wild Bendy running around across the rooftops is so cute to me… [GM] Probably on all fours, [Jack] Scampering,

[Jack] It’s a good thing Henry’s around because I don’t think Jack can… carry??? An entire Sammy??? [Jack] Like he’s good at holding but he’s not strong at holding.

[Joey] We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours… [Joey] WAIT. We’ve all been acting terrible for the last 24 hours!!!

[GM] Bendy hides under a blanket or something. [Jack] Comfey… [GM] Cozy boy, [Joey] Bendyrito. [Sammy] BENDYRITO,…….. [GM] Rolled up… snug...

[GM] Is everybody coming into the apartment, or just the two? [Jack] Hmmm….. Jack isn’t fond of either of these options. Going in is suspicious and weird; staying outside makes it look even more like they’re breaking in, to steal things, as opposed to, y’know, breaking in, for,,, “good” reasons(???) [Sammy] We’re not breaking in, we’re just walking into this apartment! What’s so weird about that?! [Jack] That’s breaking in. That’s what breaking in is, Sammy. [Sammy] They don’t have to know that we don’t belong here, maybe Susie gave us a key! [Jack] ...they heard us knocking. [Sammy] [Sammy] We’re BEING POLITE!! SHUT UP!!

[Henry] Jack, did you pick up kleptomania.. [Joey] I thought Jack picked up Being Prepared! [Jack] H-he’s just hoarding a little bit!! It’s fine!!! It’s very, useful, see, already Joey got injured!! It was useful to bring lots of things with him okay!!!!!!!!!

[GM] They do not have the police called on them, so that’s nice. [Sammy] Oh good! [Jack] Thank GOODNESS. [Henry] Love when that happens! [GM] If you guys got arrested, the Lurker’s just out in the car all night, [Henry] oh NO, [Jack] Worse punishment than jail… [Joey] Lurker learns how to drive for fun. [GM] *laughs* Gets curious, [Joey] “I said I wouldn’t leave the car, but--”

[Joey] WAIT. There’s a very important factor that we just decided but didn’t say. [GM] Oh? [Joey] If we have Henry heading home, and everyone else sleep over at Jack’s…. [Joey] ...the Lurker finally gets to meet a cat. *everyone gasps* [Jack] Oh that’s SO important

[Henry] And Henry will probably look at these, while in the car, to make sure they don’t have any gold writing on them-- [Sammy] Isn’t Henry driving??? [Henry] ……Henry is not going to look at them in the car,

[Sammy] We’re all going to bed, Sammy, you don’t need a banjo to sleep! [Joey] You might sleep worse if you have a banjo, actually. You might not stop.

[Sammy] Jack you wanna join us? We’re gonna just jam all night! [Jack] It really is Jammy… [Sammy] *laughs* TRUE Jammy!! Real Jammy Hours… [GM] That makes it a pyJAMa party… a real jammy jam…

#call of cthulu: haunted hijinx #sammy lawrence #Jack Fain #joey drew #Henry Stein #Bendy the Lurker #when in doubt just keep drawing #cthulhu game quotes #everyone except henry got a new insanity and we're doing... fine!

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zhongliologist · 3 years

Note

Shibari + Zhongli canon compliant nsfw

Pairing: Zhongli x Gender Neutral!reader

Genre: SMUT SMUT SMUT!!

Words: 3.9k

AN: Hi anon!! Sorry this took a while! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS ONE!! I’m glad I had experience writing something like this before skajdha I decided I can’t fit this into a small drabble, so here’s like a really long version lmao my two itty bitty braincells are now in no-brain mode, so this might be full of typos or errors.

*WARNING!! THIS IS PURE SMUT. IF YOU ARE A MINOR, IT IS UPON YOUR DISCRETION. PLEASE READ RESPONSIBLY*

***

When Zhongli first heard the word while on a stroll late one night, he had realized that there was indeed an artform he had yet to encounter or at least heard of. His curiosity peaked, it was only a matter of time before he finally had to give in and ask you what it was.

“YN, if I may,” he began, settling the cup of tea to the table. “There is something I wish to know.”

Attention caught, you raised your brows at him—surprised that there was actually something Zhongli has yet to know—as you took a mouthful of wonton noodles.

“Sure, ask away,” you replied, chewing.

“Well, this was several nights ago,” Zhongli recounted, his deep voice serious. “I was passing by a group of shipbuilders and I couldn’t help but over hear their conversation.”

You hummed, prompting him to continue while stuffing another serving of blackened bass in your mouth.

“Their discussion involved an artform popular in Inazuma, and apparently has spread all over Teyvat as well,” he continued. “Unfortunately, I have yet to hear about this certain artform. Could you care enlighten me please?”

Leaning your head to the side, you wondered what it was. There wasn’t any popular art trend nowadays which Zhongli doesn’t know, so you became to grow curious as well.

“Did you catch the name of it?”

Zhongli nodded. “Yes. It’s called shibari.”

You almost choked on the food you were eating.

“Are you sure that’s what you heard?”

“I believe it is what I have heard,” he replied. “Is there something wrong?”

Sighing, you were going to have a lot of trouble explaining it to him. It was painfully obvious how Zhongli is so out of touch from the pleasures of mankind.

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you decided it was best for him to know, before he does something unexpected.

“It’s kind of a sexual play,” you told him, but despite your words, Zhongli only glanced at you, eyes blinking.

Watching him, you noticed he had placed his hand over his chin—a habit he had whenever he was thinking. Whatever comes out of his thoughts, you were beginning to become nervous.

“I see. So, performing art during intercourse…interesting,” he mumbled to himself. “It is not too far off considering the fact that intercourse could also be deemed as a form of art, wherein it takes specialized honed skill to elicit a pleasurable result. To take two art forms and combine them in one act…I am astonished at the inventiveness of man.”

You took a bite from a dumpling, eyes jaded. “It’s not that grand, you know.”

“Now that I am aware of its existence,” Zhongli continued, paying no heed to your comment. “I wish to experience it myself. YN, I must request for your assistance.”

The dumpling you were eating fell back to your plate. “…what?”

“This…this shibari. I wish to partake in this now popular art form,” he repeated, but you only became more flabbergasted.

“Didn’t you hear me say that it’s a sexual play?!”

“I did. That is why it must be you,” Zhongli replied, taking your hand and placing it over his smirking lips. “You are my lover after all.”

Flustered, you had no choice but to agree. You knew of Zhongli’s immense curiosity and nothing is going to stop him from finding out what he wants to find out. Moreover, you wouldn’t really want him to experience it with someone else.

“F-fine,” you conceded, still nervous. “But give me a month to prepare. You should also ready yourself.”

Wondering why he had to wait and ‘ready’ himself, Zhongli leaned his head to the side. “Very well, but why a month?”

You scratched your nape as you averted your gaze somewhere. “I don’t have the right stuff, and I don’t have enough knowledge to do it properly. So give me some time.”

It had been a month since that conversation had occurred, and Zhongli began to feel a little bit antsy as the day drew near. It wasn’t common for him to feel this nervous energy, always maintaining his calm and composure. But it was different this time.

Since that discussion with you, you had banned any sort of sexual act from sex to masturbation, all except from small kisses; and as someone who had gotten used to your presence in his arms at night, Zhongli instantly felt withdrawal symptoms cloud his dignified countenance.

Zhongli inhaled sharply as soon as you entered his room, anticipation deeply running in his veins. You took a shower right after him, making him wait and allowing his imagination to run rampant inside his head.

“Sorry, did I make you wait?” you asked, making your way to the bed in nothing but a bathrobe.

“No, it’s alright,” Zhongli replied, his long hair now freely flowing after he had taken off his ponytail when he was taking a shower.

Running your hands through his dark hair, you admired the way they slipped against your skin as if they were made of silk. Absentmindedly, you began to braid his hair in a lose coif, making him relax underneath your touch.

“Um…er…YN, are we going to—”

You hummed, interrupting his words as you smiled. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“I fear that I may longer be able to contain my anticipation,” he confessed, feeling your hands on his back through the thin robe he was wearing.

Grinning, you knelt down and embraced him from the back; giving his temple a small kiss. “It seems like I don’t have to ask you if you’re sure about this.”

Loving how you felt so warm around him, Zhongli smiled as well as he intertwined his fingers between yours. “I do feel nervous, but it was I who wished to know; thus I must see it to the end.”

“Well, that settle’s it then,” you replied as you removed yourself from his shoulders. “Before we start, I need to remind you that we can always stop if you can no longer handle it, ok?”

Zhongli sighed. “I am confident that I can handle something like this.”

“Please stop being so stubborn,” you retorted back, annoyed that he really has to insist he wouldn’t need it. “Since it will take you forever to decide, I’ve picked one for you. It’s Rex Lapis. Say it when it gets too much.”

He scoffed. “You retaliate in the most absurd of ways, yet very well, I’ll keep it mind. Nonetheless, that does not mean I will use it.”

You grinned. “You’ll take that back soon enough.”

As you said those words, you shifted from your seat and faced him; hands cupping his chin. There was a look of surprise in Zhongli’s expression as soon as you tilted his head up to meet your eyes—too slow to react at the situation.

“Now, from here on out, I’m the one in charge. Any misdemeanor will warrant due punishment,” you began, voice firm and authoritative. ��Are we clear, Zhongli?”

It took him some time to adjust at the sudden shift in the air; stunned at the tone you were giving him. This was probably the first time he had seen you take the lead, and it might’ve given him some sort of whiplash.

“Answer me,” you demanded, which made him jerk his attention back to you.

“I—uh…yes…”

“Very good.”

Smiling at his response, you removed yourself before him and sat just beside him with an easy expression. “Well then, why don’t you take off that robe? Just the robe though, leave your underwear on.”

Brought on by the awkward situation and the fact that you just ordered him to strip, Zhongli’s face immediately heated up to a few degrees. It was strange that he was feeling it for some reason—was this the actual appeal of the performative art form? Or was this simply one of your whims?

As he removed the silk tie tying his robe shut and slid it on the floor, you instructed him to quietly kneel down on the bed before you; hands neatly placed on top of his lap.

“Y-YN…? What is this…?” he asked, confusion marring his youthful face. It was embarrassing to sit on the bed that way, wearing nothing but his underwear, his dick beginning to form a tent.

Yet you only smiled at him.

“Don’t worry. We’re getting to the actual act,” you replied, crawling towards him before placing your hands on his bare chest. “If you can hold on till then, I might actually award you, you know?”

Leaning down, you immediately captured his lips in a deep kiss, moving softly yet sensually against his. Cupping his cheeks, you pushed your tongue inside and easily played with his. For some reason, this felt way hotter than the kisses you previously shared, with Zhongli unable to keep his hands to himself and began to wrap his arms around your waist.

You broke off the kiss with a click of your tongue; your thumb still on his swollen lips.

“YN…”

“What did I say about touching?” you asked, eyes holding nothing but pure mischief.

As soon as he heard you, Zhongli knew he had made a mistake and instantly rescinded his embrace; eliciting a chuckle from you.

“I—uh, forgive me…” he hurriedly told you, his voice beginning to lose their strength as he stuttered and tumbled at the words he used to be so eloquent with. As someone who has prided of his calm demeanor, Zhongli felt a surge of embarrassment at how he easily succumbed to your touch.

It was so adorable to see him like this; all flustered and nervous, making you want to see more of those reactions you have yet to see.

“Stay there. I’ll be right back,” you told him and stood up; an idea forming in your thoughts.

The moment you left; thoughts of things he might’ve done wrong kept repeating inside his head. He was scared that he might’ve crossed something which he shouldn’t have—the sounds of you rummaging through your belongings only exacerbated the nervousness that was already in his system.

However, you were not gone for long. He could sense you behind him, daring not to move or look back, and as soon as you draped a cold silk cloth over his eyes, he instantly realized what he had eagerly signed up for.

For one, as the Geo Archon, it was unimaginable for him to be in such a position, but for some reason, Zhongli found it incredibly arousing to have him at your mercy—to be restricted and ordered around; to be at the other end of the spectrum from what he was used to?

This is strange indeed…

“Don’t you agree that everything feels more vivid when you’re blindfolded?” you asked, now back on his lap; and despite being robbed of sight, he could tell you were smirking. “Does it feel good, Zhongli?”

“I…I cannot be certain…” he replied, the feeling of your intense stare sending shivers down his spine. “I haven’t experienced something like this before…”

At his hesitation, you could only giggle and gave him a small kiss. “Well, there’s a first for everything, but this one here…”

Your voice trailed off, your hand effortlessly finding his half hard dick and pressed on it harshly; eliciting a strangled moan from him. “It’s been feeling good for a while now, don’t you think so Zhongli?”

“I…I—!” He was at a lost for words; the pleasure he felt intoxicating his mind. You were right, the blindfold seemed to heightened his senses to such degrees of vividness.

“I can’t blame you really,” you told him, still toying with his member with your finger but not fully committing on pumping it up and down. “I did tell you to hold off for a month, of course, you’d be unusually sensitive and horny.”

If Zhongli thought his face was hot enough before, he hadn’t anticipated for it to feel full out burning as if his blood was set on fire. He tried holding off the sounds he was making whenever you pepper kisses on his shoulders, but to no avail. He was gradually becoming heady at the immense pleasure your hand was giving. By the time you continued talking, he was already panting heavily, skin flushed and hands balled so tightly into a fist, his knuckles turning white.

“Y-YN…” He wanted to say ‘too much’, but he didn’t want to stop you either.

“I’m impressed you can keep your hands to yourself,” you remarked playfully, rewarding him with a love bite just underneath his jaw. “Why don’t we move on to the actual thing itself?”

Even with the blindfold, Zhongli could feel you standing up; anticipation once again beating wildly against his chest. What were you going to do to him this time?—that was a thrill he had never expected to feel pleasure from.

You returned once more to his side, now with the appropriate items you needed, and brilliant grin on your lips to top it off. It was weirdly exciting for you as well, finally doing something as erotic as this to a dignified gentleman such as Zhongli. Which is why, you couldn’t help but talk him through it.

“I did tell you that shibari some sort of sexual play, right?” you began, as you seized both of his hand and pinned them on his back. “It involves tying someone up with rope, in patterns that are not only visually pleasing but are also designed to make you feel good.”

Zhongli could feel the roughness of the rope cling to his skin as soon as you tied his wrists together before doing various knots up his torso and down to his legs. It was incredibly strange—you were only tying him up but for some reason, he felt so exposed and so turned on.

“The reason why it’s so popular is because it gives a sense of security if you will,” you continued, remembering the patterns you had religiously practiced over and over again for the past month. “As if you were surrendering everything to that one person, trusting that they can give you security, give you pleasure. That is what this art form is.”

Every time he felt your soft hands brush against his damp skin as you tightened the rope around his body, he would control a shudder that kept on surging through him like a multitude of waves. This was beyond the ordinary, a situation Zhongli had not anticipated—you were right when you told him to prepare himself. He definitely did not heed your advice, and it came to him with a price, especially when you finally wrapped some rope around his dick as it stood straight and hard between his legs.

“If only you could see yourself right now, Zhongli,” you told him, pressing firmly on the ropes around his member before nibbling on his earlobe. “Aah, I just want to eat you up.”

With your sultry voice directly sending shockwaves down his lower parts, he could only dig his fingernails on the palm of his hands as the hemp ropes dug deeper in his skin. Even though they were not too tight, the restrictive sensation enveloping his body, plus the way you were touching him now was making him lose his mind.

“YN…YN…p-please, I—!”

He spoke between gasps as he felt your lips suckle on a sensitive point on his neck, his dick twitching as he tried to jerk up.

You hummed amusingly. “What is it, love? Where do you want me to touch you?”

Raking up your fingernails up his toned chest, you smirked as he groaned, unable to find any sort of friction he had been seeking for some time now. The way his long dark locks stuck to his skin because of how much he was sweating, or the way he trembled and shivered at every touch of his skin—you loved them all. As much as how Zhongli was intoxicated by pleasure, you were also heady with the power you had over him.

Not waiting for his answer, you crept your hands up and suddenly pinched his nipples—making him jolt straight up at the abrupt stimulation with a loud moan.

“Do you like it here?” you asked, now lavishing your tongue over a hardened nub; relentless and teasing.

“Ahh…! YN…! Wait, please!”

All of his thoughts had already vanished, replaced only by the sensations of your tongue on his now sensitive nipples, of the ropes wound tightly around him, of how painfully hard his dick was. It felt good, he had to admit it. It felt incredibly good.

“Do you want me to stop? I can always stop,” you asked, smiling. “If not, tell me where else I should touch you.”

Breathless as his chest heaved, Zhongli tried to find the words he wanted to say even as his lips trembled.

“Um…please touch….m-my…”

He was blushing furiously, the word seemingly unable to pass through his lips.

“Your what, Zhongli?” you asked him again, almost cooing but inwardly laughing at how he just can’t say the word ‘dick’.

Biting his lip to stop it from quivering too much, it seemed like he really has to throw every sense of dignity he had in him just to relieve his arousal.

“M-my…pe—ahh!!"

You pinched one of his nipples, pouting. “Don’t you dare call it penis, or else I won’t let you cum. Now, as you were saying?”

If only his head wasn’t too hazy from all the sensations stimulating him simultaneously, he would’ve made a mental note to make you suffer at a later date, but right now, his brain was being ran by his dick.

“P-Please…YN…! My—my…d-dick…I can’t…” he forced between pants as his sweat made the ropes feel even tighter and his underwear feel even more sticky.

Smirking at your victory, you pressed a kiss on his lips, your hands finally removing his dick from the constraints of his underwear. You could feel him groan on your lips as you began to move your hand up and down, and making sure to reach his most sensitive spots.

“Look at you, getting this hard after being tied up,” you whispered to his lips, a grin plastered on your face. “I didn’t know you were this dirty, Zhongli.”

“I-I’m…not!”

He tried to deny it but you kept his mouth shut by squeezing his cock tightly.

“Really now?” you asked, voice low as you kept on pumping him, his voice becoming nothing but dirty noise. “Are you about to cum?”

“YN…!” he growled, the ropes keeping his legs folded biting on his skin. “T-too much….! I’m…!”

Mercilessly, you continued to jerk him off as he crept closer and closer to climax. However, there he realized that the ropes around his member had gotten tighter, and the painful throbbing he felt was because he couldn’t cum.

“Oh? Did you find it out?” you asked, chuckling at the look of desperation so evident in his face. “If you can endure this in a few more minutes, I’ll reward you. How about that?”

“N-no, no….! YN…p-please, I c-can…no longer….” Most of his words were incomprehensible, affected by the pleasure and the pain on his cock.

You hummed playfully once more. “Do you want me to stop then? You can always say the safe word, you know?”

“No! W-wait…please! I n-need…I can’t…!”

“Then endure,” you replied, an idea blooming in your head. Your free hand then reached for the blindfold covering his eyes and unraveled it, allowing him to finally see.

However, he did not have time to recover when you immediately caught his attention.

“Look how hard you are, Zhongli,” you told him, his amber eyes blow wide by his current state. Yet strangely, the thought of him so aroused and at your mercy, only made him harder.

Laying down on the bed with your chest on the mattress, you looked up to him, his dick on your hands; your eyes reflecting mischief. “If you can hold on for a few minutes, I’ll let you cum, alright?”

Zhongli only gazed down on you, face as hot as the sun and as red as beet. He watched as you took his dick in your mouth and began sucking him off. At the sensation, he instantly threw his head back. This was totally different from your hands. This was just incredible.

With lustful eyes, you watched him convulse before as you assaulted him with your tongue—sucking and licking at every sensitive point you knew. The underside and the tip were particularly sensitive and that was where you concentrated.

“A-ahh…! Oh…shit…YN!” he groaned, his deep voice and the way he was now cursing sent you reeling as well. “T-too good…I’m…f-fuck…!”

You chuckled, the vibrations on your throat making his dick twitch as you kept on bobbing your head. Gazing up, you both exchanged glances as you kept on sucking the tip; his eyes tightly closing at the intensity.

“Are you going to cum?” you asked before diving in once again, your hands secretly making their way underneath his underwear and finding his hole. “I’ll help you.”

“W-wait…! T-that’s!” he jolted up yet unable to do anything but feel your fingers brushing around the rim.

Prodding at his hole, you enjoyed watching the pained yet lustful expression he was making on his otherwise stoic face. His eyebrows furrowed, his cheeks flushed pink, his mouth ajar as drool poured down his chin. It was fascinating, addicting. You can’t help but tease him endlessly, relentlessly as he kept on moaning your name again and again as if under a spell.

“P-Please….let me…I can’t…I’m going to….Y-YN…!”

Deciding that this was finally the limit of his first time, you cleverly untied the knot on his back which kept the rope around his pelvis secure, allowing it to loosen.

Still sucking him off and poking on his hole, you could feel him twitch inside your mouth, an indication that he was close.

“YN…! I’m….ughh…c-coming!”

In a few pumps, Zhongli climaxed in your mouth; his warm cum on your throat. It was a bit too much, and a little thick so you were unable to swallow everything, allowing it to drip down your chin.

Released from his high, Zhongli couldn’t believe he just had his biggest nut of his life after being tied up. It was in every ounce, shameful and embarrassing but it just felt too good for him to resist at all. Maybe it wasn’t too much of a bad thought to do this once in a while.

Eventually, you loosened the ropes that were still on him and took note of the rope markings on his skin, reminding yourself to give him that special balm you got for this exact purpose. As soon as you released him, you pulled him to a deep kiss which he gladly reciprocated.

Unlike your previous ones, this kiss was one of concern and care—asking and answering questions that were difficult to convey. As your lips moved against each other, your chest began to warm and float, glad that you were able to deliver his request. When you both pulled away, the normal Zhongli was back; his eyes warm and lively.

“I’m glad it felt good,” you told him, cupping his cheek. “I was afraid I might hurt you or something.”

He only chuckled and gave you a pat. “I did tell you I can handle it.”

You sighed in relief, loving the way he was touching you. “So, how about we sleep—"

Zhongli however interrupted you, pushing you down the bed, pinning your wrists. He was smiling but you definitely knew you were screwed.

“I reckon it is time for me take my revenge,” he gazed at you, eyes turning feral. “No one will be sleeping tonight.”

#genshin impact #zhongli #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact x reader #zhongli scenarios #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli fanfiction

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comfortwriting · 3 years

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Unexpected - R.L

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Remus Lupin (Marauders Era) x Fem Reader

Prompts:

62: He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into him, you could tell he was furious, jealous, and mortified.

65: Your lips crashed against his whilst his hands fumbled with the zip on the back of your dress.

Requested/About: Lupin and one of his good friends meet up a few times a month to have sex, one night at a party, Lupin sees her getting too close to his best friend and he hopes that their night of passion will change that. Unfortunately, their night of passion leads to something unexpected and only makes things worse.

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex, jealous Lupin, pregnancy, and swearing.

“So what’s going on with you and Mooney, then?” Sirius asked, leaning back in his chair, staring at your answers.

You looked over your shoulder, smiling at Remus, he looked up at you and smiled back shyly, his pale face and tired eyes more noticeable than usual.

You covered your answers with your hand, rolling your eyes at him “I don’t really know” you replied “we don’t really feel the need to put a label on things, y’know”

You and Remus considered many labels but none of them was able to justify how the both of you felt about one another without knowing each other's feelings. You’re both really really good friends that fuck, nothing more, nothing less - but outside the bedroom, his friends would always treat you as if what you had with Remus was so much more than the casual hook-ups.

“Have you fallen for our dear Mooney?”

“Now now, don’t get too excited, he doesn’t get any kinkier once he’s back to normal”

You were fine with being friends that fucked for the rest of your life, you never felt like you were in any hurry to make him your boyfriend or to put a spin on things, but not knowing how Remus felt - that sometimes bothered you, perhaps he wanted to be so much more than what you’re happy with.

Sirius stared at you, the corner of his mouth curling into a grin whilst Professor Flitwick collected in your mock papers.

James turned around in his seat, smirking with Sirius “will you be coming to the party tomorrow?” James asked.

You nodded your head and yawned, “yeah” you replied, stretching in your seat “It’ll be the last time I get to see him before the full moon”

Sirius wiggled his eyebrows up and down, causing James to smirk more, both of them breaking out into a laugh when you covered your face, your cheeks turning red.

“Look” you sighed, pointing at James “you try anything, and I mean anything at all, and you can kiss your second chance with Lily goodbye.”

James put his hands up in defence, pretending to be scared and murmuring “oh Y/N! please don’t set S-Snivellus on me, I’ll behave, I-I promise!”

Sirius couldn’t contain his laughter, shooting glares at Severus as he glared at you all from his desk. Peter looked a little afraid and cowered in his seat, you rolled your eyes at James, Remus blinked heavily to stay awake, smiling to himself at the sight of you.

You wound your hair around your wand, holding it for a moment and then letting go, watching your now springy curls twirl down and bounce, Lily walked around the room, applying the tiniest bit of blusher to her cheeks.

“You can get away with wearing such little makeup!” her friend commented as if she read your mind.

You applied your mascara and matte lipstick, looking at yourself once more in the mirror - you’d think you were going out for a meal, or to a dance, but you were only going down to the common room, you felt kind of silly for putting this much effort in, especially since Remus and you were friends; who did you have to impress?

Lily shook her head “I only wear it for special occasions, hopefully, this shade will keep that James Potter as far away from me as possible.”

“Hey” you called out, turning away from the mirror and walking towards Lily and her friend “I know you can’t stand him, and his ego is bigger than his shoe size, but James can be really nice once you get to know him” you defended your house teams seeker, walking towards the door “give him a chance.”

Bursting into the common room the smell of fire whiskey, smoke from the fireplace, and butterbeer overpowered the room, the chatter and laughter drowned out your thoughts whilst you searched for Remus.

You caught many eyes in the common room, none the beautiful shade of green you were so desperately interested in and searched for - you couldn’t find him anywhere.

“Bit lost, Y/N?” Sirius called out, nudging you in the arm playfully, another smirk creeping on his face.

You frowned, continuing to look for Remus on the spot, “I can’t find him anywhere, did he cancel?” you looked through the window at the night sky, searching for the moon.

“No, love” Sirius replied, taking a sip of fire whiskey “he’s a bit weaker tonight but he promised he’d be here.”

Part of you wanted to go into his dorm room and check, but you were friends - you couldn’t invade his privacy even if you were given permission to do so.

You nodded, feeling slightly better but also more worried about Remus, he hated the plague that was forced upon him and took over him once a month - you started to question whether or not he was already in the shrieking shack, all alone and falling apart.

Sirius noticed your sudden dip and put his arm around you, pulling you in closely “he’s going to be okay, Y/N” he said lowly into your ear “we’re all worried about him.”

Remus stood across the room, staring at you seemingly melting into Sirius’s embrace. Despite feeling sick, drained, and weak, he felt like transforming then and there, ripping Padfoots arm off his body.

“thank you” you smiled up at Sirius, part of your worries dissipating “I’m glad he has you lot to look after him”

Remus couldn’t bear it anymore, watching whilst his best friend got closer and closer to taking you away from him - he clenched his sweaty palms into fists, storming over to you with all of his strength, shivering against the cold despite the amount of heat engulfing you all in the room.

You looked over your shoulder, your eyes finally meeting those beautiful green ones you spent ages searching for. Pulling away from Sirius you hurried over to Remus and wrapped your arms around him as gently as you could, you nuzzled your face into his neck, his cool skin relieving you from overheating.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” you breathed, now pulling away and smiling at him, then frowning “I thought you cancelled.”

“is that why you were so close to him?” Remus spat, his temper ticking like a time bomb casually jolting in his stomach.

You flinched away from him, staring into his eyes feeling taken aback.

“He’s my friend” you replied as softly as you could “are you alright?”

He grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into him, you could tell he was furious, jealous, and mortified. Your lips crashed against his whilst his hands fumbled with the zip on the back of your dress.

You pulled away from the heated kiss “not here” you pulled his fingers away from your zip.

Remus licked his lips slowly, staring at you as if you were something to eat, he grabbed you by the wrist again and lead you to his empty dorm room, fighting against his paranoia.

James and Sirius watched the two of you leave the common room, muttering to one another about the status of your relationship, debating whether or not to make a bet with the little gold that sat in the bottom of their pockets.

“Potter!” Lily called out, walking over to the two troublemakers “your hair looks ridiculous”

The two of you got undressed and couldn’t keep your hands off one another, Remus pushed you down onto his warm bed, his cold hands tracing around your breasts whilst he planted kisses down your neck, your soft moans filling the dorm room and exciting him even more.

Remus sucked on your neck softly, leaving little love bites before pulling away and taking your breast into his mouth, sucking slowly as you took his length into your hand, pumping it. Moaning against your breast, Remus pulled away and reached for the lube in the drawers on his bedside table.

“are you sure you want to?” you asked nervously, staring into his lust-filled eyes.

He nodded and smiled softly, “of course” he replied, “do you?”

You mirrored his smile and nodded your head “of course I do, Remus.”

He applied the silky lube onto his length, and then more onto his fingers which he spread across your entrance, slipping two of his fingers inside of you, pumping in and out to get you warmed up.

His cock hardened and you watched him in awe, biting your lip and moaning at the feel of his touch, he held the base of his cock with his other hand and looked into your eyes for approval, you nodded and he lined himself up against your entrance, pushing himself inside of you slowly, filling you up as your walls tightened around him.

You moaned out softly, watching his perfect scarred body move whilst he thrust inside of you, Remus moved closer and wrapped his arms around you, pushing himself deeper inside of you. Your arms wrapped around him and pulled him closer, your lips hovering against his ear, each and every one of your moans you let out not going unheard.

His lips grazed against your collarbone, the sight of his lower back and bum making you blush with each thrust. Your hands travelled up higher, your fingers now tangled in his light brown hair, Remus pulled away from you and grabbed onto your legs, propping them up upon his shoulders, his cock travelling even deeper inside of you, the head brushing against your G-Spot.

“Remus, I can feel you against my-” you scrunched your eyes shut, unable to control your moans.

Remus felt his heart flutter as you moaned out his name, seeing you look so exquisite and blissful whilst he pleasured you - no one else, just him.

Bucking his hips, Remus groaned out and gripped onto your waist, keeping you in line whilst he fucked you deeper and faster, hitting your G-Spot over and over, sending you over the edge, your hands gripping onto his bedsheets so tight that your knuckles turned white.

“You feel so fucking good!” You moaned out again, your lip now red from all of the biting “I’m-” your legs began to jolt uncontrollably “I’m getting close!”

Each and every time you came undone onto Remus, it flicked switches inside of him, his cock started to throb inside of you, twitching with each and every thrust - he felt himself - like you - getting closer and closer to bursting.

The sight of your legs jolting, your back arching, your mouth wide open, the sound of you moaning his name, telling him how good he felt, your walls tightening around him, the thought of your cum spilling down his cock - he couldn’t take it anymore, and before he could control himself, he released his seed deep inside of you, being too dazed to realise what he had done.

Remus collapsed on top of you, chasing his feeling of bliss before his other feelings of shame and disgust crept upon him.

You laid there, Remus on top of you, your heart pounding in your chest, not knowing what Remus had done, your stroked his hair and felt yourself getting closer to drifting off to sleep.

After five minutes of cooling down, Remus’s body language made it pretty clear that he wanted to be left alone, guilt and hurt surged inside of you, a few meters behind the panic - you quickly scrambled to your feet, getting dressed and hurrying out of his dorm room.

James and Lily were having the smoothest conversation together than anyone had ever seen, not a single argument had broken out and Sirius watched, scanning the room for more fire whiskey with each cup he emptied.

Seeing tears run down your face as you scrambled towards your dorm, he tried to follow you but stopped in his tracks, realising there was no way he could get up there, instead he walked towards his own, bumping into a very poorly, annoyed, and irritable Remus.

Sitting on the tile floor of the shower, you pressed your eyes into your hands, seeing colourful stars appear in the darkness. Remus didn’t say a word to you since that night and he had been at the shrieking shack for over a week, refusing to return despite the begging and convincing of Padfoot, Prongs, and Wormtail. Your period was also late, your breasts swelling and constant nausea made you worry.

You wanted to sit under the flowing hot water for the rest of the day, but you knew you couldn’t, in a few minutes time your life could be changed forever. Your hand rested on top of your stomach, the thought of another life in there bringing you to tears.

Standing up, you turned off the water and grabbed your towel, drying yourself and wrapping it around you, trying to stay as warm as possible.

Getting changed into some comfortable clothing, you walked into your empty dorm room, opening your drawer and peering over at the pregnancy test two thick red lines peered back at you through their little windows; your now stomach doing flips, your heart sinking down into your flipping tummy, and your life-changing forever.

With your test stuffed into your tracksuit bottom pockets, you hurried across the Quidditch pitch, running over to James who was too busy waving at Lily up in the stands to notice you.

“Where is he!” you demanded.

James looked confused and slightly alarmed “who? Mooney? You know-”

“No!” you hissed under your breath, trying not to cause a scene “Sirius, I need him, where is he?”

“He’s catching up on homework by the lake-”

You took off and sprinted past James, too focused on finding your best friend to thank him or care about disrupting Quidditch practice.

Finally reaching Sirius you collapsed next to him on your knees, against the tree, tears running down your face and your lips going bright red and swelling.

Sirius dumped his books on the grass without a second thought, accidentally spilling his inkpot across the pages he had worked so hard on.

“I don’t know what to do” you cried, your head going back into your hands, rocking yourself forwards and backwards.

Sirius could feel his heart pound like yours, he put his arm around you and pulled you back into his arms.

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” he asked softly, rubbing your arm “please tell me.”

You dived into your pocket and pulled out the pregnancy test, handing it to him.

Sirius stared at the test, his heart dropping when he finally understood the results, knowing how Remus would react if he found out about being the reason an innocent baby would turn into a monster.

“I don’t know what to do” you cried “he’s just my friend, this was never meant to happen.”

Sirius debating many of the plans that swam around his head, but he picked the one he knew was best.

“We can’t hide this from him,” he said softly, lifting up your chin so you would finally look at him “he’s our friend, he deserves to know.”

Remus finally broke out of hiding, appearing and feeling much better than before, but unfortunately, he had walked over to you and his best friend at the wrong time - getting the wrong end of a very confusing stick.

“deserves to know what?” he called out, his voice shaking.

You jumped out of your skin and looked at Remus, more open wounds on his face slowly healing.

“Remus-”

His eyes fell on the pregnancy test in his best friends hands “are you...” he sounded breathless.

You nodded your head slowly “yes” more tears formed in your eyes.

Remus shook his head and swallowed hard, clenching his fists, his eyes shooting daggers into Sirius.

“I trusted you, Padfoot!” you raised his voice.

Sirius got to his feet quickly, shaking his head “Remus, settle down, this isn’t what you think-”

“sure it is!” Remus flashed you a glare “you’ve always been close to her, you’ve always tried to push me out so you could have her!”

“Remus, please!” you begged, standing up and pulling on his arm “let me explain!”

“explain what exactly?” Remus croaked “that you’re carrying my best friend’s baby?”

You shook your head, hyperventilating whilst your hot tears ran down your red cheeks “no, the baby isn’t his you idiot!”

Remus paused, stopping himself from inching closer to Sirius, his eyes desperately searching yours.

“W-What do you mean?” Remus asked.

“The baby I’m carrying” you choked “it’s yours.”

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @impulse-anchor

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders imagine #marauders oneshot #marauders era #hp marauders #remus lupin #Remus Lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin oneshot #sirius black #Sirius black x reader #james potter #James Potter x reader

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sirowsky · 3 years

Text

The Legend of Mar'Sol

This was my first ever fanfic, but since I didn't know what I was doing when I originally posted this, I decided to re-post it. However, I can't be bothered to post individual chapters for an overall story this short, so you're getting it all in one post this time. (Sorry..) Also, shout-out to @lucrezia-thoughts for convincing me to post this in the first place, and starting me on my journey as a fanfic writer. Love you, wifey!

This is a story belonging to The Mandalorian universe. It follows canon, but takes place after the events of Chapter 16, so this is all fiction.

Description: Mando is lost after losing the kid, and ends up drifting around in space, aimlessly. He accidentally becomes the owner of a slave, which leads him down a very unexpected path, with very painful consequences.

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY Warnings: Cursing, blood, slavery, mentions of rape, forced submission, severe angst, smut. Kind of happy ending, but not really. Word Count: 15,550 Author's Masterlist

Chapter 1 – Mar’Sol

He had come to this place out of necessity, nothing else could have made him set foot on the depraved, corrupted, deviant and vile planet of Mar’Sol. The Mandalorians were no strangers to slave-trade, but here it had been taken to it’s very limits in terms of what people were capable of doing to one another.

He had heard of Mar’Sol slaves around the galaxy, but they were known only by reputation, as none was allowed to ever leave the planet. There was a special strike-force employed by the Gathering, who’s only job was to hunt down what was known as ‘broken’ slaves. An incorrect and unnecessary term, since the slaves never left of their own accord, only when someone else tried to smuggle them out. The Gathering was the governing force of the planet, and they were merciless self-obsessed and entitled assholes, every last one of them. But to the people of Mar’Sol they were Gods and just and fair judges that could do no wrong, no matter how cruel or excessive their punishments were. Everyone not raised on Mar’Sol knew never to set foot there, which was of course part of the reason why the planet never changed. No one ever challenged their depravity, or tried to hold them accountable for their indescribable cruelty. There had been attempts in the past, but, unfortunately, a large planet filled with expertly trained slaves that would fight with the same disregard for life as their owners, was a difficult foe to beat. Eventually, the rest of the galaxy had given up, and chosen to effectively exile the entire planet through exclusion, which had of course only suited the Mar’Solians perfectly. Things had been strange after the events on Gideons imperial cruiser. Bo-Katan had wanted him to go back to Mandalore with her, to sort out the whole mess with the Darksaber, but he had no interest in becoming king of anything, or of fighting another Mandalorian. He had once again offered her the weapon, and she had once again refused. Fett and Shand had plans of their own back on Tatooine, and Cara had her responsibilities on Navarro to return to. He was alone again, and it had hit him hard to realise that. Even harder than he would have thought. He knew that his attachment to the kid had been much deeper than anything he had ever felt before, or possibly ever would. But he had been right to let him go, of that he was absolutely certain. The child needed more than he was capable of giving him, and he had always known that their time together would be limited, but there was still a huge difference between knowing that and actually having to say goodbye. He had taken an imperial starfighter and gone off on his own, stopping at the first scrap-trader he passed to trade in the imp-ship for a surprisingly well maintained BTL-B Y-wing fighter-bomber. Considering that it was a military ship that had somehow found its way into the hands of a scrapper, he had expected it to fall apart the moment he left the scrap-yard, but it had proved to be a sturdy old ship, and it had only grown on him as the days passed. He knew that the BTLs had a tendency to overheat, and thus were heavily reliant upon their cooling-systems, but this one had yet to trouble him, despite him moving in hyperdrive most of the time. He had moved further and further out into the very edges of the galaxy, as though he was running from something. He probably was, but he had yet to figure out what the hell that might be, and he wasn’t very good at introspection or self-analysis, so, odds were, he might never figure it out. Anyway, as was his usual rhythm in life, he had soon run into trouble. This time in the form of pirates. He had managed to fight them off, but not before they had seriously damaged his BTL, and that was why he was now wandering the immaculately clean streets of Mar’Sol, while he waited for the ship to be fixed. The planet had once had a different name, and Mar’Sol had been its capitol, but over time the city had grown to encircle the whole planet, and now it was all known by that name. The ancestors of these people would have been so saddened to hear that the name they gave to the rock that sustained their lives for countless generations, had been completely erased from history. There were plenty of people outside in the streets, and they all gawked at him as he passed them. Visitors were rarities here, and one that walked around

with a fortune of wealth as armour, was endlessly intriguing to these shallow and greedy lowlifes. As long as they didn’t speak to him, he would endure their interest. He had only been walking for about fifteen minutes when he came across the first slave to be abused in front of his eyes. It was nothing unusual, not even in the rest of the galaxy. Slaves were used everywhere, for all sorts of things. What made the Mar’Sol slaves so different, was that they were not made – they were born. They were bred specifically for slavery and trained from childhood in order to become perfectly obedient, willingly and without the slightest complaint suffering anything that their owners subjected them to. This one, a very young girl, no more than 16 years old, was being savagely beaten by her owner, and she didn’t even whimper when he kicked her in the stomach. Her face betrayed nothing of the pain that she must have felt. Their training was a mystery, even to the people of Mar’Sol. Only the Gathering knew the details of what happened in the slave-dens, because they were the ones in charge of the whole organisation. He didn’t want to think about what had been done to that poor girl to make her so indifferent, and he could do nothing to help her. The owners were protected by law, they had every right to abuse their slaves in any way they wanted. So, he kept walking. Before long he found himself in a park. There were only a few of them left on the entire planet, and this one would surely be gone soon as well. But it was beautiful and refreshing, and surprisingly empty. The people here had probably long since forgotten the tranquillity of nature, it’s inherently healing capacity for the soul. But, then again, these people had no souls. He sat down on a bench in the middle of the park, and watched the slowly swaying hanging branches of a tree he didn’t recognise and couldn’t name. It was covered in small white flowers and smelled absolutely divine. It was almost enough to make him forget where he was. But then, he heard a low voice coming from somewhere to his left, and it sounded like someone was angry, but trying not to be too noisy about it. He tried to tell himself not to care, not to get involved, it would only end badly, it always did. He sighed and got to his feet. This whole thing with the kid had softened him, and he still didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. Quietly, he moved towards the sounds, until he could see a man through some bushes. He crouched down and listened carefully. The man had a slave with him, but this one was not like the others that Mando had seen while walking through the city. She was dressed in dark green robes of a much higher quality than the simpler pale blue ones that all the others he had seen had been wearing. But it was more than just the clothes. The way she carried herself, the way she moved… It reminded him of generals and leaders, royalties even. She was walking behind her owner as they moved through the park, matching his pace perfectly. And when he stopped and turned towards her, she froze on the spot, but it was somehow an elegant movement. As the guy hissed and mumbled what Mando assumed were insults or some other form of verbal abuse, she just stood there, perfectly still, hands folded together in front of her hips and head bowed. And yet, there was something so distinguished and controlled about her that even through her submissive behaviour, she seemed intimidating. But not to her owner. From what he was ranting on about, she seemed to be nothing but a problem to him. But before Mando could work out why that was, the guy took out a gun and shot the slave. Without thinking he launched himself at the man, wrestling him to the ground, and when he tried to turn his gun on Mando, he broke the man’s neck in return. As soon as he was sure that the guy was dead, he got up and went over to the woman, and was relieved to find her still standing, clearly alive, but motionless on the same spot. The man had been a lousy shot, only gracing the right side

of her torso, but she was bleeding badly.

“Shit. This needs to be taken care of, or you’ll bleed out.”

She didn’t move or make a sound. She was so still she could have been a statue, and it was seriously eerie. But now that he was so close to her, he could see how utterly beautiful she was. More so than any other woman he had ever seen.

“Would you sit down and let me help you, before you pass out?”

Without a sound, she bowed down and folded her legs under her so that she was sitting on them, hands now folded in her lap, but her back still straight as an arrow, despite the continuously bowed head.

“Um… thanks.”

He crouched down next to her and reached into his bag to retrieve the bacta spray he always carried these days. But the way she held her arms meant that her right one was obstructing the wound.

“Could you lift your arm, please?”

Without hesitation she did exactly as he asked. He proceeded to rip the torn fabric a bit more to get better access to the wound, and in doing so, he realised that it was actually even bigger than he had first thought. He applied the spray generously and then waited to see that it was enough. When the bleeding had stopped, he tore a piece off of his own cape, picked up a small bottle of water that he kept in his bag, and tried to clean the worst of the blood away from around the wound. There was nothing he could do about the large stain on her robes.

“Okay, that should do it.”

He stood up as he spoke, being done with the treatment, but her arm remained raised out, and bent in front of her face.

“It’s okay, the bleeding stopped.”

She didn’t move.

“You have to tell her to put her arm down.”

Mando whirled around to see who had spoken. It was an elderly man, bald but with a short white beard, that slowly came walking towards them, aided by a walking stick.

“What?”

“You told her to put her arm up, so you also have to tell her to put it down.”

“I didn’t tell her to do anything, I asked her.”

The old man chuckled, humourlessly.

“To a Mar’Sol slave only one voice exists, and she will do whatever that voice says, however it’s phrased, angled or delivered.”

“But I’m not her owner.”

The man raised his equally white eyebrows at Mando.

“According to the law, every owner has the right to do anything they want to their slaves, with just one exception; no one is allowed to kill a slave. It’s the one crime on Mar’Sol that’s punishable by death. And to kill a Class 1 slave is considered the most atrocious of all crimes, because they’re so rare. If you’re unhappy with your purchase, or wish to return a slave for some other reason, you always return it to the Gathering. They take possession of the slave and make sure that she’s fit for sale, before putting her back on the market.”

“I still don’t see what any of this has to do with me?”

“This man tried to kill a Class 1, his life was already forfeit when you killed him, which makes your actions valid. And by law, because you’ve safeguarded something so precious and valuable, you’ve earned what he has discarded. All of his fortunes are now yours, including the rarest and very best slave imaginable.”

Mando’s heart sunk. What was it he had tried to tell himself about things ending badly?

“I don’t want a slave, of any kind.”

“Then you can return her to the Gathering, they’ll be thrilled to get to sell her again, she’s worth the equivalent of a planet.”

Damn it. The last thing he wanted was to make this poor woman suffer under the hands of yet another abusive asshole, but even if he kept her, there was one major problem.

“I’m not from here, and I’m sure as hell not staying here, so how would that work exactly?”

“That, I can’t answer. If you want to take her off planet, you’ll have to argue your case with the Gathering.” Chapter 2 – The Choice

To say that the leaders of this planet were wallowing in wealth, would be an understatement. That was as much as he could say about the chambers in which they received him to hear his claim. He had explained who he was and why he was there and what had happened with the slave and the owner. Thankfully, the old man had come along to act as his witness, although, Mando got the feeling that as long as the valuable slave was still alive, they didn’t care much about the rest. But when he got to the part about leaving, things took a very nasty turn.

“That is absolutely forbidden, and thus, out of the question. If you wish to leave that’s fine, but the slave will remain here.”

“And what assurances would I have that she would be treated in accordance with my wishes?”

“If you choose to leave, Mandalorian, there are no assurances. Slaves work for a living; this one would be no exception.”

He thought about his options for a minute. While he certainly had no wish to own this or any other slave, leaving her here seemed like the worst possible choice, and staying here simply wasn’t an option. He turned to look at his newest possession, hating every syllable of that word. She was completely indifferent to what was happening here, and that more than anything else was what infuriated him. They hadn’t just stripped her of her freedom, but of her voice and will and soul as well. They had reduced her to what was essentially a machine. His eyes fell on her hands, still folded in front of her hips, but now he noticed something that he hadn’t before. He had been too concerned with her injury to notice them earlier, but now he could see the bottom edge of the metal rings that had been forged around her wrists, signifying her status, like brands on cattle. He walked over to her, and took her right hand in his left. He pushed the fabric of her robe back a little so that he could inspect the metal more closely. Her hand followed the direction of his seamlessly. There was one solid ring around each of her wrists. The metal wasn’t anything special, it would remain unscathed in a tousle with any normal blade, but lasers or phasers would hurt it. There were engravings on both rings, which he assumed where to identify class, value, perhaps even origin. But it was the rings themselves that held his interest. They were big, visible. Statements. So, what would happen if a slave lost them? In one quick movement, he reached his right hand to the back of his belt and pulled out the Darksaber. He wasn’t wearing his jetpack so the cape had been handily concealing it. Without hesitating, he cut the ring off of her right hand, and then the left, careful not to let the blade cut her skin as it smoothly and almost effortlessly parted the metal. The broken pieces fell to the stone floor with a deep ringing sound.

“Noo! What have you done, you witless wretch! That was her identification, without it she’s worthless!”

He took a step back from her and swung the saber so that they all got a good look at it.

“According to your own laws, any owner can do anything to their slaves, except kill them. As the rightful owner of this one, I choose to set her free. Do you challenge my right to do this?”

The head of the Gathering glared ferociously at him, and Mando could see how badly he wanted to find some reason to legally punish him for what he’d just done. But it was entirely possible that they didn’t actually have a law concerning the freeing of slaves, since that was something completely inconceivable to them. As Mando looked at the Darksaber, a terrible, but also kind of perfect truth became clear to him.

“Do you know what this is?”

He held the saber up high while he spoke, so everyone could see it. But it was the old man that answered him.

“I believe that that’s the Darksaber. A weapon older than most would think, traditionally used to signify the leadership of the Mandalorians.”

“That’s right. I won this sword in combat with Moff Gideon, and that makes me the rightful ruler of Mandalore. So, unless you want to go to war with mercenaries and bounty-hunters, which would undoubtedly be costly for you, I suggest you let me and my friend go in peace.”

Chapter 3 – Hope

The BTL was actually a bit roomier than the Crest had been. Mando and the woman had their own bunks, although, even after two months of travelling together, she had yet to use hers. Technically, she was free, but that was a foreign concept to her, so much so, that she continued to wait for him to tell her what to do, every second of every day. She didn’t eat, drink, sleep or even use the bathroom without permission, and if he didn’t tell her to work on something, she didn’t move at all. And, boy, could she be still. It didn’t matter how many hours that passed, whether she was sitting or standing up, she never even flexed her fingers. She did blink, though. Which was good, because otherwise he would have been convinced that she was actually a robot. He had stubbornly refused to order her around, settling for just asking her to eat and all that, and while he did always say that she should sleep at the end of the day, he didn’t tell her to get in her bunk. If she preferred to sleep on the cold floor, she could. Eventually, she would have to start making her own decisions, and where to sleep seemed like a pretty simple one to start with. He did ask her to cook for them, though, since his own skills weren’t very tasty, and she did seem more relaxed whenever she had a task to perform. Also, her cooking was amazing, which he made sure to tell her after each meal. The Mar’Solians had done a good job fixing the ship, it was running smoothly again, as they travelled along the outskirts of the galaxy. Mando still didn’t know where he was going or what he wanted to do, but he would soon need more credits, which meant taking jobs. He had refused to take any of the fortunes of the owner he had killed, the very thought had disgusted him. And Mar’Solian currency wasn’t valid in most of the galaxy anyway. After weeks of nothing but the unnatural stillness and eerie silence of his current company, he was growing restless. They were going to pass a planet called Haaotu the next day, a real backwater place that attracted lots of criminal entities. He was sure to find plenty of bounties there, but a woman that was unable to defend herself would not be safe anywhere on that planet. He would have to leave her on the ship while he worked, and for some reason he really didn’t like that thought. It had rarely worked out well with the kid.

“Hey, woman.”

She was sitting on a crate in the cargo area in front of her bunk, her usual place whenever she wasn’t doing anything. As always, she showed no sign that she had heard him at all, just sat there and waited for instructions, while he sat down on a crate opposite her. He really needed to come up with something else to call her, but he wanted her to have the chance to choose a name for herself, rather than just accepting whatever he decided for her.

“We’re going to make a stop tomorrow. We need supplies, but we have no credits, so I’ll have to work a little. But the place we’re going to is dangerous, so I’ll need you to stay here on the BTL and be quiet, so no one realises you’re here. Okay?”

He didn’t really know why he bothered to tell her any of this, much less ask for her approval, other than that it just seemed rude not to. He sighed heavily.

“Okay.”

He reached out and touched the back of her right hand, folded over her left and resting in her lap. He wished that he could feel the smoothness of her skin, but more than anything, he wished that her hand would react to his touch. Give him some reassurance that she was making improvements with her freedom. It didn’t. He looked at her bowed head and wondered how she could sit like that for so long without her neck aching like crazy. It wasn’t bent all the way down, so that she was looking at her feet, but more like she was looking at the floor about five feet in front of her. It looked so uncomfortable, but he supposed that she was just used to it. Still, it made him sad. She had never been in space before, never seen anything except Mar’Sol, and yet, she never looked out the windows. Never saw the worlds they passed, the people they met when they had stopped for supplies. She was missing so much, and for no reason. He leaned forwards until his helmet rested gently against her forehead. Then, ever so carefully, he pressed his head against hers to push it upright. As he expected, she followed his movement without objection until her head was completely upright, and he pulled back to look at her. Even then, her eyes were seeing only the floor between them.

“Please, look at me.”

As always, she did as he asked. Her eyes snapped up and she looked right into his, as though she could somehow see them even behind the tinted window of his helmet. It was the first time he really saw her eyes, and he was in awe.

“Mesh’la…”

He didn’t even realise he had whispered the word until a couple of seconds later. For all her submissiveness, he had always felt that there was something commanding about her, and now, seeing the clarity and intelligence within those eyes, he knew why. This woman was not merely trained to obey. There was a confidence within her that could only come from skilfulness and real experience and cunning. And those eyes were older than he would have thought, looking at the rest of her, so he suspected that her experience was not to be underestimated. He suddenly felt certain that she wasn’t anything close to helpless, with the exception of the strict rules that she lived by. She continued to hold his gaze as he tried to see even deeper into those expressive eyes, trying to find some secret that might unlock her invisible chains and set her free for real.

“I wish that I could somehow just say the right word, and you’d be magically freed from everything that binds you. It breaks my heart to know that you might never get to live for real, because I can see that there’s a part of you that wants to.”

He lifted his left hand and gently stroked his gloved index finger along her jawline. She gave no sign at all to signify that she had even felt the touch.

“I won’t give up on you, Mesh’la. You have my word. One day, you will choose to look at me, or out the windows at all the things you’ve missed. One day, you’ll decide for yourself where you’ll go next, what adventures you’ll have. And on that day, I truly hope I’m there to see it, because I know that you’ll be extraordinary.”

For a mere glimpse of a second, he could have sworn that he saw hope in her eyes, but it was probably just his own hopes making him see it.

Chapter 4 – Soul

Haaotu was busy. The ports were filled with ships, coming and going all the time, which made navigating the descent and landing quite the challenge, for both Mando and the control tower. But they made it to their spot without incident. As he prepared to leave the ship, he was still uncertain of what to do with the woman. He wanted her to be safe, but he wasn’t sure if she’d be safer with him or without him. If someone broke into the ship, she would not be able to fight them or defend herself since he wouldn’t be able to tell her to. But if someone here recognised her value, they would stop at nothing to acquire her. He had bought new clothes for her at their very first supply-stop after leaving Mar’Sol, and he had burned her old slave robes as soon as she had changed out of them. She was now wearing a simple grey outfit, pants that hugged her features without being tight, and a snug long-sleeved shirt in the same colour. On top of that she wore a thick black wool-vest which came down to about mid-thigh, and had a big hood she could use either to hide her features, or to keep her warm, if need be. Her shoes were black leather boots which came about half way up her calves. She looked completely ordinary. With the exception of everything other than the clothes. Her entire demeanour screamed ‘slave’. He was about to hit the button to open the side door of the ship, when he suddenly decided that he wasn’t going anywhere without her.

“Shit. Come on, I’m not leaving you here alone.”

As gracefully as he had come to expect from her, she rose to her feet and fell in behind him as he opened the door and left the ship. They went to the nearest tavern, that was always a good place to find someone in need of his services, but before they walked inside, he stopped and turned to her.

“Stay close to me, okay. These people won’t be kind to you, even if they have no idea who you are.”

He had already seen people in the streets stop and stare at her as they passed. A beauty like her was rare in a place like this. The tavern was going to be a nightmare. And sure enough, as they walked inside, all eyes turned towards them, and stayed on them while they made their way to an empty booth and sat down. It didn’t take more than a few seconds.

“Well, well, well… What have we here? A silver-clad Mandalorian, and a right queen of a female. What might such a pair come to this dump for?”

“Just looking for some work. You wouldn’t happen to know of anyone in need of a bounty hunter, would you?”

“Oh, just about everyone here. But not many that could pay you accordingly.”

The sleaze-bag kept his attention on the woman throughout their exchange, and a disgusting smile crept into his features as he continued.

“But this one… she would fetch a high prize, indeed. Where did someone like you come into possession of such a being?”

Mando’s stomach churned with bile. It took everything he had not to just shoot the guy.

“Step away from her. Now.”

The sleaze-bag ignored him, and reached a hand towards her face. Mando was practically pleased to have an excuse to hurt this creep, so without a moment’s hesitation, he grabbed the Darksaber from his belt, and cut the guy’s arm clean off. And then immediately returned the weapon to its hidden place at the small of his back. The movement was so quick that most onlookers wouldn’t have gotten a very good look at the weapon. The sleaze-bag fell to floor in shock and pain, and started crawling away from their table, spitting curses at them in his native tongue.

“I said ‘step away’. I’m not interested in anything but a bounty. If no one here has one for me, then we’ll be on our way.”

As he stood to leave, the woman mirroring his movements, everyone in the tavern suddenly formed a wall around their booth. He had hoped to avoid this, but strangely enough, these backwater places that were filled with nothing but scum, had a kind of order to them. A set of rules that everyone just sort of accepted, even though no one had actually declared them to be rules. They were more traditions than anything else. And one of them seemed to be that outsiders were always enemies, and even the worst of these creeps and lowlifes would band together against them. He turned his head to look at the woman. She seemed completely at ease with the whole situation, even more so than she did on the ship, where she had been completely safe for the duration of their journey together. He had felt certain that she was capable of much more than he had realised, and now, it was time to find out just how skilled she was.

“Defend yourself.”

He wanted to keep watching her, to see if she was indeed as skilled of a fighter as the Mar’Sol legends suggested, but he had to refocus on himself as the wall of people attacked them both. He had the Darksaber out in no time at all. He was still not quite used to wielding it in this kind of combat, but it was too effective not to use, and he needed the training anyway. As he swirled to avoid a blaster-shot, he caught sight of the woman on the other side of the booth where they had been sitting, and he momentarily froze. She was beyond skilled. Beyond amazing. She moved faster than anyone he had ever seen or even heard of, twisting and bending her body like a dancer, except that every movement was calculated for maximum efficiency, and maximum damage. And still, she made no sound. Still, her face remained completely blank. She wasn’t even panting, despite what had to be a tremendous effort in order to move like that. Not to mention the fact that she had no weapons. Every single person that attacked her, ended up on the ground within the next second, either dead or critically injured, and all without her wielding any kind of weapon other than her own hands, elbows, knees and feet. Before long, everyone had realised that she was the real threat, and left Mando alone while they ran over to try and help defeat her. He continued to watch in awe as she disabled them one after another, as though she was being directly choreographed by some invisible force, using her like a string-puppet. Soon, everyone had been dealt with, and by the time the last body hit the floor, she had already returned to her normal state of stillness. Hands folded, head bowed, waiting for new instructions. Incredible. None of them had managed to even land a punch. He remained frozen on the spot for another moment while he tried to process what he had just witnessed. He had seen strength in her, that much he was sure of, but this was so much more than he could have ever imagined. But there wasn’t time to wonder about that now, they needed to get back to the ship, and off of this planet, asap.

“Collect as much of their credits as you can find, we’ve gotta go.”

He wouldn't ordinarily steal, but this was already a shitshow. Together they raided as many pockets as they could and then left the tavern. He tried not to look rushed or nervous as they made their way back to the BLT, and he was surprised that they made it there without any alarms going off or anyone coming to chase them. But, then again, this was a planet of crooks and criminals, there wasn’t much of a justice system. He was increasingly relieved as they flew higher out of the atmosphere and away from that cesspool of a place. Things hadn’t exactly gone smoothly, but they did come away with a good load of credits, so they wouldn’t need to stop for work again for a while. As soon as the ship was in hyperdrive, heading for the next system, he went back into the hull, to find her on her usual spot. It was a bit strange to realise that she didn’t look any different, despite what he had just learned about her. He picked up the bacta spray and took his usual seat on the crate in front of her. She had broken the skin on her knuckles. He was surprised at how it affected him, seeing her hurt, even if it was just scrapes and bruises. Despite what he had seen, there was something so fragile about her. She was so strong and so skilled, and yet, completely at his mercy. He hated that, but there was no magic word that would set her free. If he hadn’t told her to defend herself, she would be dead now, and that scared him to no end. His eyes stung as he took her right hand, but then, as he was about to apply the spray, his eyes fell on his own hand, and the glove that was her only connection to him. He had no idea what she was thinking or feeling, maybe she didn’t care at all that he was always beyond her reach, that there was always a barrier between them. Maybe none of it mattered to her. But if she did ever find her way to being truly free, he wanted her to know that even through the armour, he felt her warmth, and wanted her to feel his. He put the spray down, and slowly removed his left glove, and then his right. When he reached for her again, he first let his fingers trace the back of her hand, something he’d wanted to do since the first time he took one of her hands in his. She was a bit colder than he would have liked, or perhaps it was his skin that was a bit warmer than usual. When he slipped his left hand under her right one and lifted it up to see the damage better, her fingers gently closed around his, and he damned near stopped breathing. It was the first movement she had made of her own accord since he had met her. Such a tiny little thing, but it made his heart jump. Suddenly terrified that if he moved, she would release her grip, he stayed motionless and just stared at her bowed head until his arm began to ache from the awkward angle it was in. So, he sprayed her knuckles and was delighted to find that her soft grip remained as he cared for her. The wounds were small enough that the spray would heal them within a few minutes, so he kept holding her hand until the skin was perfectly smooth again, and then he brought his right hand over to let his fingers inspect the newly healed skin. He could have sworn that her hand was warmer now. Reluctantly, he let go, and then picked up her left hand. He was grateful for the helmet as a single tear escaped his eye at the feel of this hand also curling around his, ever so gently, almost timidly. It was an overreaction, being so emotional over something so simple, he knew that. But he cared about her, he was invested in her life and future, and even though she was technically free, he was still responsible for her. Because he was the one that set her on this unknown and unfamiliar path, so he would continue to be responsible for her until she was able to care for herself, no matter how long it took. And they had been travelling together for two months now, without the slightest hint of change in her, which made this moment the most significant one they had ever shared. Progress. Finally, he had a reason to hope that her soul could be

restored.

Chapter 5 – Progress

It had been several weeks since that first moment of actual connection between them, and he had begun to notice something of a permanent change in her. Rather than just sitting outside of her bunk all the time, she would join him in the cockpit sometimes. She still didn’t look up at him, or the view, but it was still a decision she made on her own, and it made him smile every single time he turned to the side to hit some button or other, and she was suddenly there with him. He had made a habit out of removing his gloves whenever he needed to touch her, as she seemed to appreciate it. But he had been pleasantly surprised to find her occasionally reaching out for his hand, gloved or not, and just gently holding it until he needed to use it. Today had been a bad day, though. The BTL had decided to have a mood, and send random power-surges through various systems, and he had spent most of the day patching up the resulting damage, leaving no time for anything soul- or progress-related. But, in a moment of frustration, after hours of searching for what he believed to be an electrical fault, even though he couldn’t find one, he had asked her if she knew anything about BTL electrics. Her response had been to remove a panel in the wall, that he didn’t even know was removable, and reattach a wire that had come loose, thus fixing the whole problem in a matter of seconds.

“So… I guess the answer is ‘yes’. You do know a bit about electrics.”

She replaced the panel in the wall next to his bunk, and then turned around towards him. And nodded. Just once, and a very small one, but it was a confirmation, a direct response to something he had asked. He could have jumped up in the air with the excitement he felt, but he restrained himself. She needed to be allowed to take all of these little steps in her own time, and without additional pressure from him, no matter how frustrating it was. There had been days when all he had wanted to do was to scream at her to just wake up and accept that she was free and could do whatever she wanted. But he knew better. Whatever had been done to her to shape her into this hollowed out shell of a person, had taken years. It would not be undone in mere months.

“Good to know.”

He kept his tone casual and relaxed, but his heart was still thumping with the hope that this was the beginning of even bigger progress for her. It had been a long and trying day, and he was exhausted by the time he had put all of his tools away, performed a full-systems diagnostic and then taken them back into hyperspace. As he turned the chair to the right to leave the cockpit, he was slightly disappointed to find the passenger-seat empty. He headed back into the cargo area and found her sitting on her usual spot. But there was something in her hands, and as he approached her, she stood up and handed it to him. He was so shocked to see her do all of this without being prompted, that he almost forgot to look at what she was offering him. It was his thermos, and it was warm. He opened the lid and a rich and delicious flavour filled his nostrils. She had made him soup. He had been so preoccupied with the ship all day, that he hadn’t had a chance to eat since breakfast, and she had not only noticed, but decided to help him get something to eat before he passed out from exhaustion. He wondered how he could have missed this smell while she had done the cooking?

“Oh… I can’t thank you enough for this. It’s.. so kind of you.”

She offered no response, and instead just returned to her seat. But as she did, he realised that he hadn’t given her permission to eat all day, either. The wonderful feeling that her unprompted cooking had given him, vanished in a heartbeat, and he suddenly felt absolutely horrible. He sighed and poured some soup into the cup, before handing it to her.

“I’m so sorry, I completely forgot. Please, eat.”

She took the cup and obediently started to drink the soup, while he took a seat next to her and lifted his helmet just enough so that he could drink from the thermos. Her eyes were always downcast, and she had never tried to sneak a peak at him while they ate, so he felt comfortable doing that with her, although not enough to remove the helmet all together. When they were both done, he bid her goodnight and headed over to his bunk. But before he could climb in, he felt a hand on his arm, and turned halfway around to find her standing there. Her touch was careful, and there seemed to be a question in it, but he couldn’t make out what it was.

“What is it, Mesh’la?”

She took a deep breath, and then lifted her head and looked right into his eyes. Her gaze was the same as it had been the only other time that he had seen it, with the exception that her hand was still on his arm, and that question he couldn’t interpret still hung between them. He turned further, so that he was fully facing her, and her eyes dropped to his chest. They stood like that for another few seconds, as Mando was determined not to interfere with whatever it was she was trying to ask him. He wanted her to get to finish whatever it was that she had started, because he knew what a victory that would be for her. Finally, she moved, and for a moment, he thought that she had given up or changed her mind, as her hand fell away from his arm. But after another moment’s hesitation, she reached forward with both of her arms, towards his waist, while taking a step closer. She seemed to be moving deliberately slowly to give him the chance to stop her if he wanted, but she took another step closer and finally allowed her arms to gently wrap around his waist while slowly lowering her forehead against his shoulder. A hug. That’s what she was so nervously and apprehensively asking for? Just a hug. It was heart-breaking to realise that anyone could be so deprived of kindness that even something that small and utterly cost-less could become such a vast and seemingly unobtainable wish to someone. He wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her tightly against his chest. He hoped that it didn’t feel possessive to her, but he just couldn’t hold back from trying to show her just how welcome her request was. And as her own arms tightened around him and her whole being seemed to relax into him, he felt certain that she knew.

Chapter 6 – The Slave

They had been travelling around the edges of the galaxy for six months by the time Mando decided that he was ready to return to more familiar territories. Along the way, he had shown her forest-planets and ocean-planets and plenty of other things that she had never seen before, hoping to help her realise just how big and diverse and wonderful the galaxy was. And she had continued to make progress, although there seemed to be certain things that she might never be able to shed. She still kept her head bowed unless he asked her to look at something, and she still hadn’t made a single sound, no matter how many times he’d asked her. Although she would answer ‘yes-or-no’ questions by nodding or shaking her head, as long as he wasn’t asking for her personal opinion on something. She cooked all meals without being prompted, though, and had even started eating and using the facilities without waiting for permission. But sleep was still difficult for her. She still slept on the floor, and no matter how early Mando got up in the morning, she was always already awake, groomed and ready to start working. But he had experienced a major shift in her energy after he had realised that she didn’t just have ‘some’ skills in electrics, but was actually a damned expert on the subject, as well as engineering and programming. Basically, he had concluded that her accumulated skillset meant that she could have taken the BTL apart, down to the very last screw, clean every single piece, and put it all back together again perfectly, all by herself. He had named her Chief maintenance officer after that, and given her the responsibility of keeping the ship in perfect condition, a task that she had whole-heartedly accepted. And if the BTL had run smoothly before, it practically purred under her ministrations. They were headed for Navarro, to look up Greef and Cara, and find out how they were doing. He hadn’t seen or heard from them since they parted ways on Gideons cruisier, and he wasn’t sure how he’d feel seeing them again. He considered them friends and he had thought about them, hoping they were safe and doing good. But he also associated them very much with the kid, and he knew that seeing them again would bring all that back. That was the best part about having the woman around. Taking care of her had been as much of a full-time job as taking care of Grogu had been, and it had kept him focused and busy in all the better ways. But it had also given him an excuse not to have to think about how much he missed the kid. And he did, much more than he would ever admit. He wished that the woman could have met him, because he got the feeling that the kid could have helped her, the same way that he had helped Mando remember what family really means, and how powerful it is. Navarro was still several days away, though, and they were running low on food, so he decided to stop at a trading-post on the way. An old observatory space-station that had been abandoned long ago, had grown to become an intergalactic hub, of sorts. There was everything from repair-shops to meat-markets and people from all over the galaxy passed through it. You could meet some of the rarest species known, in this one place, which was why he felt comfortable bringing the woman along as he headed out into the crowds. This was the one place where she was no more extraordinary than anything else. They perused various markets, and he tested her new-found confidence in decision making by refusing to help her pick out groceries. She was the one that cooked, so she should be in charge of what to buy. She was a bit apprehensive at first, until she realised that he only wanted her to choose what to buy, while he would take care of the actual purchase. Before long, she was getting enthusiastic, eagerly moving from one stand to the next to explore her options. That said, her version of eager was still nothing close to the average person. But he loved seeing it, all the same.

“Huh, and here I thought I’d seen everything.”

It was the old woman selling them spices that spoke. She must have been very old, but she looked quite spry still.

“I never thought the day would come when I’d see a Mar’Sol slave off planet. Not in my lifetime, at least.”

Her demeaner was friendly and she seemed genuinely pleased to see her.

“I freed her, otherwise she’d still be there.”

The old woman rose to her feet and came closer upon hearing that.

“You freed her? How?”

“I broke her rings in front of the Gathering.”

The woman’s eyebrows shot up, and a surprised chuckle escaped her.

“Now that’s what I would call ‘balls’, my friend! Bet they weren’t too happy with you?”

“Nope. You’ve been there?”

“In my youth. My father was a merchant and Mar’Sol bought most of our harvest for many years. This was before the planet was exiled and forced to become completely self-sufficient. I was just a young girl when I started going with my father on deliveries, but I remember seeing the slaves for the first time. They did all of the unloading and physical labour, and they were all so beautiful. And then, one day, a slave dressed differently than the others had been sent to deliver our payments, instead of the usual merchant. I remember thinking ‘how can anything be this beautiful?’ as I watched her conduct her business. Even my father couldn’t help but gawk at her. After we’d left, I asked him who that was, and he explained that it was a Class 1. But then he told me what they do to them, to make them so obedient, and I was never able to appreciate their beauty after that.”

Mando swallowed hard. He had thought that no one outside of the Gathering knew of those practises.

“How could he know that?”

“How do you think the wars started? People found out about their methods and were outraged.”

“But that was hundreds of years ago.”

“Yes, well, my family had been trading with them for generations.”

“I see.”

“Trust me, boy, you don’t want to know.”

But he did. He had always wanted to know, because otherwise he’d never have a chance to really understand her.

“Yes. I do.”

She sighed and shook her head.

“Suit yourself.”

She sat back down on her stool, and seemed to ponder where to start for a moment.

“For Class 1 slaves, only a select few men and women are chosen as breeders, by the Gathering. Once the children are born, they’re immediately separated from their parents and brought to whichever den that child has been assigned, although there are never more than 6 children in a den. All male children from these types of breeding are taken to a den of their own. They’re not very highly sought after, and therefore less expense is afforded to their training. But for the female children; the first 12 years of their life, they’re inducted into the ways of the Mar’Sol slavery. They’re expected to learn at least 20 languages, maths, physics, chemistry, astrology, history, biology, sociology, dozens of different crafts and professions, as well as music, dancing, painting, drawing and writing. Paralleled to this extreme schooling, they’re also being trained physically, in every form and style of fighting that’s known to Mar’Solian culture, as well as gruelling endurance and agility training. Also, they’re expected to be able to expertly handle any kind of weapon they’re handed, from a tiny wooden needle, to a proton bomb. And if they fail at any of this, they’re expelled from their den, and taken into what’s known as the den of the fallen. Where they’re still made into excellent slaves, but their value and status are drastically reduced, decreasing the likelihood that they’ll be purchased. On average, half of the slaves fail their induction. But it gets much worse. They’re also continuously trained to ignore all emotion and sensation. They’re repeatedly pricked with something sharp during everyday routines, and if they react to the pain, they’re punished with even worse pain. And this starts when they’re just two years old. I won’t tell you what those punishments are. You shouldn’t have to bear those kinds of images in your head when you’re around her.”

She fell silent and closed her eyes for a minute.

“This next part is where it gets really bad. Are you sure you wanna hear it?”

His mouth had gone dry and his heart was racing. He looked at Mesh’la, standing a few feet away to his left, to see if she seemed bothered by what the old woman was telling him, but she had the same blank expression on her face that she always did. He nodded for the old woman to continue.

“Very well. On the day they turn 12, they enter into the first trials. Over the course of a week, they’re put through continuous gruelling tests, to make sure that they have indeed mastered all of the skills that they’re expected to have learned at that point. One of the tests is to sit through actual torture without reacting to the pain, for no less than one hour, and they’re rewarded for every half-hour they endure beyond that. But they’re also tested on the science, arts and crafts that they’ve learned, and if they’re approved on all counts, they advance to final training. Sex. That’s their reward for passing all those tests. They’re moved to a different part of the den, separate from those that haven’t yet turned 12, and then… they’re raped. Every day, in every conceivable way. They’re not allowed to enjoy any part of it, not that I could fathom how anyone possibly could, but they’re expected to show no emotions or even physical sensations, what so ever. They’re never given time to heal if the treatment of their bodies is rough enough to actually injure them, which it often is. They’re expected to just suck it up and soldier on. And their regular training still continues as well. They’re expected to expand and further master their skillsets until they turn 16, and undergo the second trials, which, if they pass, makes them eligible for sale. On average, only one or two slaves per year, on the entire planet, manage to pass the second trials and earn the title of Class 1. The daily sex is to prepare them for the very real possibility that whomever purchases them might want nothing else from them, and won’t care if they hurt them. It’s every owner’s right to do anything they want to them, and many Mar’Solians buy slaves specifically so that they can live out their depraved desires without risking harm to their spouses. It’s common practise.”

The rage that filled him was so absolute that it effectively locked him in place. His blood was boiling, his stomach churning with bile, his muscles and tendons so fiercely tense that even his fingers wouldn’t move. He was struggling to breathe with the pressure in his chest as his heart pounded with a fury that would have put a mudhorn to shame. Her hand on his arm was like a soothing balm, slowly chasing away the heat by reminding him that she was not that perfectly obedient slave anymore. She had broken the rules. Slowly, she came to stand in front of him, and raised her head to look into his eyes, and for the first time, he saw real emotion looking back at him. But it wasn’t the sadness or pain that he would’ve expected, that was meeting his gaze; it was gratitude. She had broken the rules, thanks to him. This time, her arms came around him without hesitation as she hugged him in earnest. And it was a good thing she was holding on to him, because in the next second, his knees gave out and he sunk to the floor as the tears began to fall down his cheeks. He tried to focus on just breathing while he forgot all about possessiveness and wrapped his arms around her so tightly that she couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. He had never wished to be able to shed his armour more, just so that he could feel the warmth of her skin, and the beating of her heart against his chest. He had freed her because he couldn’t stand the thought of being part of the reason that she would have been terribly treated. Over time, sharing in her small victories and struggling with her in her fight for freedom, he had grown to care a great deal about her. But he had failed to realise how important she had become to him. More than a companion or friend. He had fallen in love with her. But, now, he would never dare to touch her. How could he, when he would never be able to know if she actually wanted him to, if she was even capable of loving him back? How could anyone ever want to be touched again after growing up and living like that?

“It’s the most barbaric and unimaginable thing I’ve ever heard, in all my long years. Children bred specifically to be able to give their owners absolutely anything they might need, or desire, in any given situation. This woman was most certainly a Class 1, and by the looks of it, possibly the best one they’ve ever bred. And yet, seeing her with you, I don’t see the slave.”

The old woman stayed seated on her stool as she spoke, and there was a thick layer of emotion in her voice as she watched the scene in front of her.

“I just see a woman. A beautiful woman, who is free and loved, as everyone should be. And it makes my heart sing, like I didn’t think it could anymore. Thank you for that.”

Chapter 7 – Everything Changes

His whole body felt sore and exhausted as they walked back into the BTL with their groceries. He still hadn’t said a word to her, because what could he possibly say? He left the bags with her in the small kitchen area at the very back of the cargo hold, and proceeded in the cockpit to make their departure. Once they were back in hyperspace, the course for Navarro laid in, he went back to his bunk, crawled inside and immediately fell asleep. His dreams were weird and uncomfortable and he felt himself moving restlessly even though he didn’t fully wake up. But at some point, the exhaustion must have taken over, and forced his brain to shut down, because when woke up, his body was heavy with sleep and it took him several minutes just to open his eyes. He was in no rush to start moving, but his chest felt strangely pinned, so he tried to adjust his position, only to realise that his chest was actually pinned – underneath her. Abruptly wide awake, he lifted his head and looked down the length of his own body, but all he could see was hers. She was fully on top of him, one arm on either side of his chest, her head on his right shoulder and her legs straddling his thighs. His first thought was of how unbelievably uncomfortable it had to be to sleep like that, with the sharp edges of the beskar pressing into her skin through her clothes, and he couldn’t understand why she would do this, at all. But then, he remembered how restless he had been. Perhaps it wasn’t just exhaustion that had finally coaxed his subconscious into resting. The thought that she might have crawled into his bunk to soothe him with her own body… he didn’t know what to think or feel about that. Part of him was disgusted, not with her, but with himself, because if he liked the fact that her body had that effect on him, and was willing to use that to his own advantage, then he was no better than her owners. But, on the other hand, he hadn’t asked her to do this. She had chosen to, and that mattered. Almost all touch between them had happened on her terms, save for the times that he had needed to touch her in order to help her. His head was in such turmoil after everything he’d learned, that he didn’t trust himself right now.

“Hey, wake up, Mesh’la.”

He felt her stir, and waited for her to fully wake.

“Um… did you crawl in here to help me sleep?”

She raised her head a bit so that he could see her as she nodded. He sighed.

“That was kind if you, but I’m not sure it’s the best idea right now. I’m not… I don’t really trust myself… my feelings… it’s just…”

He sighed again and trailed off. He had no idea how to describe how he felt about anything in that moment. She put her hands on his chest, and he thought that she was going to lift herself up so that she could start to crawl back out. But, instead, she pulled herself forwards, without lifting herself up, which meant that her pelvis rubbed against his as she positioned them right against one another. He gasped at the sudden explosion of sensation in his groin, and was about to ask her what she thought she was doing, when he felt her entire body tremble against his. Pleasure. She’d never felt it before. Never been allowed to and probably never wanted to, but she did now. The movement had been intentional. She took a few breaths to steady herself, and then moved against him again. This time, they both trembled as he hardened underneath her. If there was any part of him that wanted to say no to her, it vanished in that moment. She deserved all the pleasure in the world, and if she chose to ask him for it, he would not deny her. Not ever. She had been bred to serve others, cater to their needs, and now it was her turn. He would let her do whatever she wanted to him. Realising what she needed to do give herself that pleasure she started grinding against him in slow circles, as her breath got faster and harder. He remembered the tavern on Haaotu, how she had controlled her breathing even whilst fighting like that. And now, all that control was undone with just a few seconds of stimulation. It made him even harder, knowing that he was able to do that for her, when no one else ever had. She reached down and grabbed his belt, but her hands were shaking with the adrenaline, so he helped her undo it, and then shimmy his pants and underwear down far enough to free himself, while she worked off her pants altogether. Feeling her warm skin against his length was almost more than he could take. It wasn’t his first time, but it had been a very long time, and there had never been any feelings involved before. It felt like it was his first time. She was so wet it was actually slowly trickling down his shaft, as she moved herself over him to coat him. He groaned inside the helmet, and began taking his gloves off so that he could touch her heated skin. He had just thrown the gloves away and put his hands on her thighs, when she lifted her hips and positioned him. Sinking into her was like nothing he had ever felt. Her anatomy had to be slightly different from other women, it just had to be, it was like she was moulded specifically for him. His whole body coiled into the sensation, wanting to go deeper. Once he was buried inside her, she didn’t rise again, but instead kept him as deep as their bodies would allow while she made small circular movements with her hips, to give them both some stimulation. He was grateful for that, because if she had moved any more vigorously, he would already have finished, and he didn’t want to disappoint her. His hands found their way to her breasts underneath her sweater, and she gasped as he began to massage them. Impossibly, the added pleasure made her insides tighten further around him, and he gritted his teeth. How was she even possible? He moved his hands down to her hips, and firmly massaged her ass, but without tugging or pushing her movements for his own benefit. He wanted only to further stimulate her. She moaned in pleasure, the first vocal sound he’d ever heard from her, and her core released another burst of lubrication before tightening again. He wanted her to remain in control, but he couldn’t take much more.

“Mesh’la…”

Her head was right next to his as he breathed the word between his still gritted teeth. He had intended to tell her that he was close, but he realised that he didn’t need to when the sound of her nickname suddenly sent her over the edge. Her rhythm faltered and her body moved involuntarily as it succumbed to the ultimate pleasure. It was as though her insides knew exactly where he needed the most pressure, massaging him in exquisite waves as the orgasm rolled through the length of her body, again and again. His own pleasure was far beyond anything he had ever believed to be possible, and his orgasm lasted at least three times longer than it ever had before, milking him of a bigger load than he would have thought himself capable of producing in a single go. It was immensely satisfying to feel their combined fluids spill out of her as he softened inside her. She didn’t move for a long time afterwards. Just laid there on top of him while her breathing calmed, and her heart stopped pounding. And just like that, he suddenly knew exactly what he wanted to tell her.

“When that lady described your childhood… I’ve never felt anger like that before. It took me a while to figure out that that’s because I’ve never felt love like this before.”

He felt, more than heard, her breathing stop.

“I love you, Mesh’la. And that terrifies me. Because the things you make me feel are so strong, I can’t control them, not even a little bit. And I don’t know what to do, except give in, and hope that I won’t ruin you.”

Her chest heaved, and her face came into view above the visor. It was covered in tears, and in her eyes, he saw everything that she wanted to say, and he knew that she loved him too.

Chapter 8 – Friends

“Well, I’ll be damned if it isn’t my favourite trouble-maker! Where’ve you been, Mando?”

Greef greeted him with a wide grin, as he exited the ship, and then the grin turned to a smirk when he saw the woman appear behind him.

“Making trouble, I see, how very predic…”

He broke off as he took in her appearance. Even if he didn’t recognise her as a Mar’Sol slave, she was still easily the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

“Greef, this is Mesh’la. That’s not her name, but until she chooses one for herself, that’s what I call her. Mesh’la, this is Greef Karga, an old friend of mine.”

The habit of keeping her head bowed was still very much there, but she did look up to greet him with a small nod, before returning to her usual posture.

“Is… is she…?”

Mando just looked at him and cocked his head slightly to the side.

“You know… the stories, the legends of Mar’Sol?”

“She was.”

“But, I thought they couldn’t leave the planet?”

“They can’t.”

“Then how?”

He shrugged.

“I’m a trouble-maker.”

Greef chuckled at that.

“So you are, my friend. Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Mesh’la, and welcome to Navarro.”

They strolled through town while Greef enthusiastically told them about the changes and developments that had been made since Mando was last there, and the hopes and plans he had for it’s future.

“You’re really doing wonders with this place, Greef. It’s hard to believe it was ever the run-down dump it used to be.”

“Thanks. But, now you really gotta tell me the story here.”

He pointed from Mando to Mesh’la and back again while he spoke.

“I will, but it’s a long story, and I’m sure Cara wants to hear it too. Where is she, anyway?”

“Oh, she got a tip about some gun-runners supposedly using one of the old ravines as a stash, and she went to check it out. She’ll be back before dark.”

He looked down at the ground for a moment, obviously contemplating whether or not he should say whatever it was he wanted to say.

“You know, Mando… Kryze came here looking for you a while back. I didn’t know where you were and that’s what I told her. But you know she’ll be back. You still have it, don’t you?”

“Yes. But I still don’t know how I feel about the whole thing.”

“Well, you either wanna be king, or you don’t.”

“I don’t. But to be honest, I’m not sure I want Kryze to be the ruler either.”

“Why not? She seems capable.”

“Sure. But she’s also deceitful, and manipulative. And I get the feeling that the more power she gets, the more she’ll want. And that’s never a good thing.”

“What am I hearing? A woman with power is never a good thing?”

Cara was mock-scowling as she approached them.

“Hey, Mando, you look good. Been working out?”

“No more than usual. Why?”

“You just look… different. I don’t know.”

“How can I look different, Cara? I literally wear the exact same thing every day.”

Greef faked a cough and pointed at Mesh’la.

“I think she might have something to do with it.”

Cara hadn’t even noticed her, where she stood just a few feet away, still as a statue. And for the first time, Mando realised how powerful that stillness could be. How infiltrative her ability to sort of disappear into the background was. He smiled to himself.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you th...”

Mando couldn’t help but chuckle as he watched the exact same confusion on Cara’s face, as he’d seen on Greef’s.

“Cara Dune – Mesh’la. Mesh’la – Cara Dune. Also a friend, not quite so old.”

“Hey, I’m not that old.”

Greef muttered. Cara just stared from Mando to Mesh’la a few times.

“Okay, yeah, that’s definitely what’s different about you. Good for you. But… um… she’s a slave, isn’t she?” While the rest of them had dinner, Mando told them the whole story of what he’d been up to over the past seven months, earning a lot of raised eyebrows, a few whistles and even a couple of jaw-drops from his friends. He didn’t tell them the details of Mar’Sol slave breeding and upbringing, but he told them enough that they knew why it was important that she was always allowed to choose to be touched, or to be allowed to try things if she seemed to want to. For most of the evening, Mesh’la sat at the table in her usual statuesque pose. But when she started to get tired, she reached for his hand, and when he took it, she gently tugged against his fingers. He thought about what she might mean by that, for a moment, and then tried moving his chair closer to her. He was rewarded by her leaning against his side, so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and tucked her closer to him, at which point she completely relaxed and closed her eyes. Cara and Greef watched quietly, slightly mesmerised by their strange type of communication. As Greef got up to get a blanket for Mesh’la, Cara looked at Mando.

“She’s never spoken?”

“Never. Not so much as a grunt or snicker.”

“So, is this how you’ve communicated all this time?”

“No, this is pretty recent. For the most part, I was never able to communicate with her at all. She would do anything I asked, but never actually respond to me. It took about three months just to get a nod from her. But once she passed that hurdle, she made a lot of progress. This feels almost easy to me now, because I can actually work out what she wants, or likes, or dislikes. The cues are small, you’d probably miss most of them, but they’re there, and for me they’re huge, because I spent so much time studying her, looking for the slightest change.”

“And what about… the not-so-communicative part. How recent is that?”

“Very. And that’s all I’m gonna say about it.”

“Okay, that’s fine. I’m only curious because of the armour.”

“Cara…”

“Seriously, I just wanna know: on or off?”

He sighed.

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Come on, it’s what everyone is curious about when it comes to Mandalorians.”

He hesitated. There wasn’t any real reason not to tell her, other than that it was personal. But he was also a bit worried that she would think it was weird.

“On.”

“Okay.”

For a moment, he actually thought she’d leave it at that.

“Wow. I mean, how does that work?”

“I’m not gonna answer that. All I’ll say is that if she’d made any attempt to remove any of it, I would’ve let her.”

“Hey, I’m happy for you. It’s quite clear how much she means to you.”

“Thank you.”

Greef returned with the blanket and helped Mando wrap it around her shoulders. She wasn’t quite asleep, just very relaxed and comfortable.

“It never stops boggling my mind, that she can be the strongest person I’ve ever met, in every sense of the word, and also the most vulnerable.”

“Do you remember that line from the old stories? ‘The true value of a slave is in how useful she is.’ At the time I actually thought it made sense, that it was logical. But now… seeing what happens when that line of thinking is stretched to the limit… I’m ashamed.”

“That’s what makes you a good person, Greef. Be grateful for that shame.”

Chapter 9 – Surprise

He woke up next to her the following morning. Greef had lent them his spare bedroom for the night, saving them from the ship’s bunks for once. She was curled into his side, soft and warm from heavy sleep. She had been so tired last night, he’d had to carry her to the bed, and he’d laid awake for a couple hours as he watched her sleep, thinking about all those months on the ship when she hardly seemed to sleep at all. He had thought that maybe it was to do with being in space, it wasn’t something she had any experience with, after all, and if she was feeling a bit claustrophobic it would also explain why she refused to use her bunk. But he might be overthinking it. Maybe she was just uncomfortable in general, and the change in their relationship had put her at ease. Whatever it was, he was glad she was finally getting some real sleep. Suddenly, the whole building shook violently, creating cracks in the ceiling and the walls. He was on his feet in a second, pulling a suddenly wide-awake Mesh’la with him out into the living room, with a firm grip on her hand. Greef joined them in the next couple of seconds, and pointed towards the front door.

“Let’s get out of here before the roof falls down!”

They exited the house, and stepped into a war-zone. The entire town was under attack from an imperial force, and by the looks of it, they’d brought a small army.

“What the…?”

“Why would the imps come here again, Greef? What would they have to gain from it?”

“Hell if I know, we haven’t seen a glimpse of them since that time we chased Gideon away.”

“We can’t fight a whole army. We’ve gotta get out of here.”

“Well, by the looks of it, that smoke over there is what probably used to be the port. They must have destroyed that first.”

He cursed himself for not having brought his jetpack from the ship, but he really hadn’t thought he’d need it here.

“Okay, what about speeders?”

“Cara. She’s got a few. I’ll lead the way.”

Then Greef handed Mando his bag, which he must have managed to snag from the living room floor as they ran outside, before getting up and starting to carefully make his way around the side of the house. He turned to Mesh’la.

“Defend yourself. Do you understand?”

She nodded, and he could see the barriers in her head drop, as that incredible confidence was released. Everything about her changed, from submissive slave to undefeated fighter in a single moment. Cara’s house wasn’t far, but the imps had begun to bombard the town, trying to destroy any and all structures that could be used as hiding-places. They were gonna level the whole place, and with the amount of fire-power they’d brought, it wouldn’t take them long. Just as they reached her house, she emerged from a side-entrance with a rocket-launcher, which she wasted no time firing at an imperial bomber as it approached to drop its load. The bomber took a direct hit and exploded mid-air, forcing any ship in the vicinity to take evasive action. That bought them a few moments.

“Cara! We gotta go, are your speeders working?”

He shouted the question while running up to the house.

“Yeah, they’re good, they’re in that shed. Glad to see you’re okay.”

“For now. This is gonna be bad.”

He dropped Mesh’la’s hand and headed for the shed that Cara had indicated. While he and Greef brought the two speeders out, he couldn’t help but notice that Mesh’la was standing tall and ready, having positioned herself with her back to Cara, to give them a 360-degree overview of the surrounding threats. She looked fierce… and deadly. And it was oddly comforting.

“Okay, we’ll head north, that’s were the closest cover is.”

“We’ll cover you.”

Mando stopped and turned to Greef.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. This is my town, and my people and I’m not leaving them without a fight. Besides, you won’t get far without some cover-fire, you know that.”

“Cara…”

“He’s right. And it’s my town too, and you know I never run from a fight.”

He just stared from one to the next. They were his only real friends. More than that, they were all the family he had left, and if he left them there, odds were, he’d never see them again. But then he looked at Mesh’la.

“You’d better not die on me, either of you.”

They just nodded. Then Mesh’la elbowed Cara in her side, and pointed to the west, where a bomber was approaching.

“Get going, you two. And don’t stop until you’re safe.”

“Thank you, Cara. Give em’ hell.”

“You know it.”

And with that, he and Mesh’la got on the speeder and set off towards the northern mountains. They had only just cleared what remained of the buildings in the north half of the town, when the speeder took a hit from something and promptly nose-dived into the ground, sending both of them hurtling through the air before crashing down amongst the remains of a blown-up barrack. Mesh’la’s training meant that she was able to take control of her movement through the air, with a series of elegant twists, and actually land on her feet, before rolling to absorb the motion-energy that would have otherwise broken her legs. Mando didn’t have that training, and his landing fractured both his right arm and his right leg, as well as what had to be several ribs along his right side. She was by his side in seconds, as a whole squadron of ground troops suddenly deployed around them, and he could see her muscles flex as she prepared to decimate them. It was truly mesmerising; seeing her fight. He even forgot about the pain in his broken body as he watched her move faster than his eyes could follow, sending broken pieces of white armour flying through the air like bizarre snow-flakes. He had no idea how long it actually took, but it seemed like only seconds had passed when she stilled and came back over to him. Her face was as still and un-expressive as it had been while she fought, but he could tell that she was assessing his injuries, while reaching into his bag to get the bacta-spray. His leg was the worst. An open fracture of the tibia, causing heavy bleeding. She tore his trousers open, quickly re-aligned the bones and applied the spray, but that was all she had time for, before the next volley was unloaded around them. Twice as many, this time. She reached around his waist and found the handle of the Darksaber, and without a hint of hesitation, she attacked. When this threat had also been dealt with, and the ground around them was beginning to get crowded with the body-count, a TIE-fighter landed in front of them, at a comfortably safe distance from Mesh’la, and Moff Gideon himself stepped out.

“We meet again, Mando. Surprised to see me?”

He was. Gideon was supposed to be incarcerated by the New Republic. But this explained the excessive force used on such a small town. He must have heard that Mando was back, and he was here for revenge.

“Friends in good places.”

That was all he offered as explanation for his apparent escape, but Mando didn’t care.

“Good for you.”

“Isn’t it? I figured you’d come back here at some point, so I had the place under surveillance. But I have to say, I am impressed that you’ve managed to procure a slave of such exquisite rarity, much less bring her across the entire galaxy. Tell me how, I’m dying to know.”

“Don’t bother. It’s beyond your comprehension.”

“Well, now, that’s just insulting.”

Mando chuckled, but there was no trace of humour in it.

“Kindness, Gideon. She’s here today because of kindness. Let’s see you try and work that one out, shall we. I’ve got time.”

Gideon’s face hardened as he spoke. He was genuinely insulted by the comment.

“No, actually, you don’t. I was going to humour you, let you live a few more minutes, but I seem to have lost my interest.”

He gestured upwards, as a bomber positioned itself right on top of them.

“Goodbye, Din Djarin. It’s been interesting.”

As soon as Gideon turned around to jump back into his TIE-fighter and get out of the blast-radius, Mesh’la turned to him and kneeled down, clearly intending to try and get them out of there.

“No, don’t. Run, Mesh’la. You’re fast enough, you can make it. Go, now!”

Her eyes looked as though he had just stabbed her through the heart. He knew the feeling. He bowed his head and tried to keep the tears away, as he heard the bomber’s drop-hatch open above them.

“What does it mean?”

His head snapped back up, and he instinctively looked around for someone else that the voice could have come from, even though he already knew that it was her. He would have known her voice anywhere, even though he had never heard it before.

“Mesh’la. What does it mean?”

He swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat, but the tears spilled as soon as he spoke.

“Beautiful.”

He could hear the latch as it released the bombs.

“It means ‘beautiful’.”

Her usual stillness found it’s way through her body, but her face broke into a breath-taking smile. He had never seen her smile. He was fairly certain she never had before.

“Thank you, my love.”

Her smile made the words feel bigger somehow. He was about to die, but strangely, he had never felt happier. But then, she stood and backed away from him, just a few steps, and he was abruptly terrified. Somehow, he knew that something terrible was about to happen. She continued to look at him, and that same wonderful smile remained in her eyes, even as the rest of her features smoothed. The bomb exploded, but not on the ground around them. It was as though there was a glass-dome above them, shielding them from the blast and the heat. He just stared at her. She was doing that, he knew it. The same way Grogu had saved him from the mudhorn, and protected them against the flames during their first encounter with Gideon. But if she had that power, why hadn’t she used it before? Suddenly, he felt as though the very atmosphere changed around them, becoming thick and charged, like before a bad thunderstorm, but much, much more potent than that. He watched as she closed her eyes and her fists along her sides. Whatever she was doing, it was taking every bit of strength she had, and somehow, he knew that he was about to lose her. He practically ripped his helmet off.

“Don’t…”

His plea was a mere whisper, desperate and pained beyond compare. But she heard him. She opened her eyes, and when she saw his face, tears spilled down her cheeks. Then, she took a breath… and opened her hands. A shockwave of unimaginable strength shot out from her, into the sky, and along the ground, but it didn’t touch him. He watched, bewildered, as it ploughed over the ground, turning every enemy into dust, and moved up through the atmosphere, disintegrating every ship in its path. It was over in just a few moments. The sound of her body hitting the ground, broke him in ways that could never be healed. The broken bones were completely forgotten as he crawled over to her, and pulled her warm, lifeless frame into his metal-clad chest. Feeling the warmth in her cheeks against his own and brushing his lips against hers for the first time. She was so soft. But she didn’t feel him. If he cried, he couldn’t feel it. If he screamed, he couldn’t hear it. If he had died, he wouldn’t have cared.

Chapter 10 – Love

He didn’t notice the ship that landed to his left. He hadn’t noticed anything in a long time. He knew that his body was weakening from lack of sustenance and rest, but he didn’t care. They had buried her where she fell, and used a part of a broken house-wall as a giant headstone, with just the word ‘Mesh’la’ carved into it. He had helped to dig the grave and lower her down, but once she was covered, he had sunk to his knees at the foot of the mound, and had not been able to get up again. He was vaguely aware that the sun had both fallen and risen, but he had no idea how many times. It didn’t matter. Greef and Cara had both survived the battle, if a little worse for wear. They had both tried to get him to come inside one of the temporary shelters they had put up for the survivors while they began to rebuild. But he never even answered them, and they knew better than to try and force him. So, instead, they had brought food and water out to him. It all sat untouched on the ground in front of him, together with his helmet. He didn’t notice when a man approached him and then stopped a few feet to his left, to put something down. He had reached a point of exhaustion that made it difficult to even keep his eyes open, and he swayed slightly where he sat. But, then, something touched his leg. His mind was slow and malfunctioning, so it took him a while to realise that he knew this touch. That it was a significant one. He had been locked in the same position long enough that he had to convince his muscles to let his head bow down far enough that he could look at what was touching him. Grogu… The kid, his kid, was right there. For a moment, he was convinced that he was imagining it, that it was just wishful thinking in the final minutes of his life. But then the man that he had failed to notice, crouched down behind the kid, and it was the Jedi. He looked into Grogu’s eyes, filled with concern and sadness, and something inside of him decided to wake up. He slowly picked the little one up, all the way to his face, and rested his forehead against the kid’s. His little hands came up to Mando’s cheeks and just held him like that.

“Your pain was so intense, that we could both feel it through the force. It really scared him.”

The Jedi spoke calmly, but it was clear that he had been seriously worried about Grogu. He wouldn’t have interrupted his training otherwise. The kid cooed unhappily.

“I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry I scared you.”

Pain rekindled somewhere in his chest and quickly flared into a roaring fire. Hot tears spilled down his cheeks, as he brought the kid down to his lap. He had never meant to hurt him, or break his promise to see him again. How had he managed to screw up so badly that even Grogu, millions of miles away, had been hurt? How could he have failed so completely?

“We felt her too. In her final moments.”

He looked at the Jedi.

“How did she do that? And why did she die?”

“I’m not sure how. Her mind, as well as her emotions, had been controlled so rigorously for so long that it would be impossible to compare her to anyone else who’s ever wielded the force before. But… she died because no one could possibly wield that amount of power, completely untrained, without draining themselves of every ounce of energy, and life-force.”

“But how could anyone that was completely untrained be that powerful at all?”

“We wield the force through our emotions. It was her love for you that made her that strong.”

He just stared at the Jedi, unable to express anything. It was all too much. Grogu cooed again, this time sounding worried. He wanted to be able to tell the kid that everything would be okay. That he would be okay. But that would be a lie.

“You should… probably go. I don’t want to interrupt your training.”

But Grogu knew him well enough to know what he was actually saying, and he didn’t like it. He reached his arms out and grabbed the lower edge of his chest-plate, whilst effectively growling at him.

“I’m sorry, okay. I’m not as strong as you are, or as she was. I’m just… not.”

The kid’s eyes were brimming with tears as he stared up at Mando. But when he got no response he turned to the Jedi.

“He’s asking you to come with us.”

Mando just stared at the kid for a minute.

“But… your training. I would just get in the way.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I think you and Grogu can help each other. There’s nothing left for you here now, but death. Come with us.”

The prospect of spending the rest of his life, however short or long it might be, with the kid that held the last surviving piece of his heart, was just about the only thing that could have made him want to live another second. Another minute. Maybe even another year.

“I love you, Grogu. Don’t ever doubt that.”

The kid cooed a little smile at him and nodded. Later that evening, Greef went out to check on Mando, but all he found was the entirety of his armour, carefully placed against the base of Mesh’la’s headstone. A small but warm smile crinkled in the corners of his eyes.

“Goodbye… not-so-old friend.”

THE END

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando fanfiction #mando x ofc #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x female character #din and grogu #din and grogu fanfiction #my first ever piece of fanfiction #my first fic

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bananaofswifts · 3 years

Link

By Paul Tingen

From sketches to final mixes, engineer Jonathan Low spent 2020 overseeing Taylor Swift’s hit lockdown albums folklore and evermore.

“I think the theme of a lot of my work nowadays, and especially with these two records, is that everything is getting mixed all the time. I always try to get the songs to sound as finalised as they can be. Obviously that’s hard when you’re not sure yet what all the elements will be. Tracks morph all the time, and yet everything is always moving forwards towards completion in some way. Everything should sound fun and inspiring to listen to all the time.”

Speaking is Jonathan Low, and the two records he refers to are, of course, Taylor Swift’s 2020 albums folklore and evermore, both of which reached number one in the UK and the US. Swift’s main producer and co‑writer on the two albums was the National’s Aaron Dessner, also interviewed in this issue. Low is the engineer, mixer and general right‑hand man at Long Pond Studios in upstate New York, where he and Dessner spent most of 2020 working on folklore and evermore, with Swift in Los Angeles for much of the time.

“In the beginning it did not feel real,” recalls Low. “There was this brand‑new collaboration, and it was amazing how quickly Aaron made these instrumental sketches and Taylor wrote lyrics and melodies to them, which she initially sent to us as iPhone voice memos. During our nightly family dinners in lockdown, Aaron would regularly pull up his phone and say, ‘Listen to this!’ and there would be another voice memo from Taylor with this beautiful song that she had written over a sketch of Aaron’s in a matter of hours. The rate at which it was happening was mind‑blowing. There was constant elevation, inspiration and just wanting to continue the momentum.

“We put her voice memos straight into Pro Tools. They had tons of character, because of the weird phone compression and cutting midrange quality you just would not get when you put someone in front of a pristine recording chain. Plus there was all this bleed. It’s interesting how that dictates the attitude of the vocal and of the song. Even though none of the original voice memos ended up on the albums, they often gave us unexpected hints. These voice memos were such on‑a‑whim things, they were really telling. Taylor had certain phrasings and inflections that we often returned to later on. They became our reference points.”

Sketching Sessions

“The instrumental sketches Aaron makes come into being in different ways,” elaborates Low. “Sometimes they are more fleshed‑out ideas, sometimes they are less formed. But normally Aaron will set himself up in the studio, surrounded by instruments and synths, and he’ll construct a track. Once he feels it makes some kind of sense I’ll come in and take a listen and then we together develop what’s there.

“I don’t call his sketches demos, because while many instruments are added and replaced later on, most of the original parts end up in the final version of the song. We try to get the sketches to a place where they are already very engaging as instrumental tracks. Aaron and I are always obsessively listening, because we constantly want to hear things that feel inspiring and musical, not just a bed of music in the background. It takes longer to create, but in this case also gave Taylor more to latch onto, both emotionally and in terms of musical inspiration. Hearing melodies woven in the music triggered new melodies.”

Not long after Dessner and Low sent each sketch to Swift, they would receive her voice memos in return, and they’d load them into the Pro Tools session of the sketch in question. Dessner and Low then continued to develop the songs, in close collaboration with Swift. “Taylor’s voice memos often came with suggestions for how to edit the sketches: maybe throw in a bridge somewhere, shorten a section, change the chords or arrangement somewhere, and so on. Aaron would have similar ideas, and he then developed the arrangements, often with his brother Bryce, adding or replacing instruments. This happened fast, and became very interactive between us and Taylor, even though we were working remotely. When we added instruments, we were reacting to the way my rough mixes felt at the very beginning. Of course, it was also dictated by how Taylor wrote and sang to the tracks.”

Dessner supplied sketches for nine and produced 10 of folklore’s 16 songs, playing many different types of guitars, keyboards and synths as well as percusion and programmed drums. Instruments that were added later include live strings, drums, trombone, accordion, clarinet, harpsichord and more, with his brother Bryce doing many of the orchestrations. Most overdubs by other musicians were done remotely as well. Throughout, Low was keeping an overview of everything that was going on and mixing the material, so it was as presentable and inspiring as possible.

Mixing folklore

Although Dessner has called folklore an “anti‑pop album”, the world’s number‑one pop mixer Serban Ghenea was drafted in to mix seven tracks, while Low did the remainder.

“It was exciting to have Serban involved,” explains Low, “because he did things I’d never do or be able to do. The way the vocal sits always at the forefront, along with the clarity he gets in his mixes, is remarkable. A great example of this is on the song ‘epiphany’. There is so much beautiful space and the vocal feels effortlessly placed. It was really interesting to hear where he took things, because we were so close to the entire process in every way. Hearing a totally new perspective was eye‑opening and refreshing.

“Throughout the entire process we were trying to maintain the original feel. Sometimes this was hard, because that initial rawness would get lost in large arrangements and additional layering. With revisions of folklore in particular we sometimes were losing the emotional weight from earlier more casual mixes. Because I was always mixing, there was also always the danger of over‑mixing.

“We were trying to get the best of each mix version, and sometimes that meant stepping backwards, and grabbing a piano chain from an earlier mix, or going three versions back to before we added orchestration. There were definitely moments of thinking, ‘Is this going to compete sonically? Is this loud enough?’ We knew we loved the way the songs sounded as we were building them, so we stuck with what we knew. There were times where I tried to keep pushing a mix forward but it didn’t improve the song — ‘cardigan’ is an example of a song where we ended up choosing a very early mix.”

Onward & Upward

folklore was finished and released in July 2020. In a normal world everyone might have gone on to do other things, but without the option of touring, they simply continued writing songs, with Low holding the fort. In September, many of the musicians who played on the album gathered at Long Pond for the shooting of a making‑of documentary, folklore: the long pond studio sessions, which is streamed on Disney+.

The temporary presence of Swift at Long Pond changed the working methods somewhat, as she could work with Dessner in the room, and Low was able record her vocals. After Swift left again, sessions continued until December, when evermore was released, with Dessner producing or co‑producing all tracks, apart from ‘gold rush’ which was co‑written and co‑produced by Swift and Antonoff. Low recorded many of Swift’s vocals for evermore, and mixed the entire album. The lead single ‘willow’ became the biggest hit from the album, reaching number one in the US and number three in the UK.

“Before Taylor came to Long Pond,” remembers Low, “she had always recorded her vocals for folklore remotely in Los Angeles or Nashville. When I recorded, I used a modern Telefunken U47, which is our go‑to vocal mic — we record all the National stuff with that — going straight into the Siemens desk, and then into a Lisson Grove AR‑1 tube compressor, and via a Burl A‑D converter into Pro Tools. Taylor creates and lays down her vocal arrangements very quickly, and it sounds like a finished record in very few takes.”

Devils In The Detail

In his mixes, Low wanted listeners to share his own initial response to these vocal performances. “The element that draws me in is always Taylor’s vocals. The first time I received files with her properly recorded but premixed vocals I was just floored. They sounded great, even with minimal EQ and compression. They were not the way I’m used to hearing her voice in her pop songs, with the vocal soaring and sitting at the very front edge of the soundscape. In these raw performances, I heard so much more intimacy and interaction with the music. It was wonderful to hear her voice with tons of detail and nuances in place: her phrasing, her tonality, her pitch, all very deliberate. We wanted to maintain that. It’s more emotional, and it sounds so much more personal to me. Then there was the music...”

The arrangements on evermore are even more ‘chamber pop’ than on folklore, with instruments like glockenspiel, crotales, flute, French horn, celeste and harmonium in evidence. “As listeners of the National may know, Aaron’s and Bryce’s arrangements can be quite dense. They love lush orchestration, all sorts of percusion, synths and other electronic sounds. The challenge was trying to get them to speak, without getting in the way of the vocals. I want a casual listener to be drawn in by the vocal, but sense that something special is happening in the music as well. At the same time, someone who really is digging in can fully immerse themselves and take in all the beauty deeper in the details of the sound and arrangement. Finding the balance between presenting all the musical elements that were happening in the arrangement and this really beautiful, upfront, real‑sounding vocal was the ticket.

“A particular challenge is that a lot of the detail that Aaron gravitates towards happens in the low mids, which is a very warm part of our hearing spectrum that can quickly become too muddy or too woolly. A lot of the tonal and musical information lives in the low mids, and then the vocal sits more in the midrange and high mids. There’s not too much in the higher frequency range, except the top of the guitars, and some elements like a shaker and the higher buzzy parts of the synths. Maintaining clarity and separation in those often complex arrangements was a major challenge.”

#taylor swift #folklore

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mik0rin · 3 years

Text

crescendo ♪ track 02

“only the moon and stars witness our love but what if i want us to be touched by the sun? why are you so against loving in the daylight?”

college!suna x college!black fem reader genre: angst, secret relationship warnings: implied colorism, insecurity, talk of preferences, cussing, arguing, suna is lowkey a pussy ass bitch word count: 3,128

disclaimer: please remember i am a DARKSKIN BLACK GIRL, i am writing this from similar experiences and in no way, shape, or form do i actually believe this is how suna is. this is fanfiction, heavy emphasis on the fiction. if you do not like it, do not read it.

playlist: spotify apple music

« prev track m.list next track »

now playing:

p.s// play me on repeat pls

It was fun.

At first.

The secret glances, the midnight meet-ups, and loving each other after the sun had set. The thrill was exciting, the adrenaline that ran through your body at the risk of being caught. You enjoyed the way his hand would always find yours under a table or how his eyes would always land on you without anyone noticing.

It made you feel special.

love the way i pump my fist or how i bust my hip

Suna Rintaro was selective with his time and who he gave it to. So when you met him through mutual friends you didn’t think anything of him. Sure, you found him incredibly attractive and interesting but that was the extent of it. The two of you never exchanged anything more than hi or a simple wave.

Yet the unexpected happens.

One random night your phone pings with a text from an unknown sender.

- i got your number from nyoko

You stare at the text, anxiety creeping up on you. You didn’t recognize the number and Nyoko never mentioned anything about giving anyone your information.

- this is suna btw

A sigh of relief escapes your mouth and the anxiety is replaced with confusion. Why was he texting you? It’s not like the two of you were friends or anything of the sort. But you decide to humor him, so you reply.

One reply leads to another and when texts aren't enough, calls between the two of you are made.

Then Suna had started asking you to hang out with him, alone. Always taking you out of town or visiting places that were only open when everyone else was asleep.

for your affection, tryna be down

That was the relationship between the two of you and you couldn’t deny that you loved it. He asked you if it was okay if things were kept private and you agreed. There was nothing wrong with loving each other after hours.

There was a certain kind of rush that came with trying to hide your feelings for each other in public. Whenever the two of you would sneak off from your group of friends, making up some kind of lie to escape the party. Or Suna pulling you into empty lecture rooms and kissing you until his lips were the same shade of glitter as yours.

You were the only one blessed with the chance to hear his soft words or witness his sleepy smile. Suna had a side to him that only came out when the moon and stars lit up the sky. The fox-eyed boy made you feel warm despite never basking in the sun’s rays. He treated you like the only girl in the world and to you, that was the only thing that mattered.

And it was fun.

Until It wasn’t.

Then something odd happened between the two of you. Suna started flinching away from your discreet affection in public. He would no longer pull you into secret hideaways to kiss or whisper sweet-nothings in your ear. At first you doubted it, telling yourself you were overthinking. But, the behavior continued and you decided to talk to him about it. When you brought it up the brown-haired boy only brushed you off, making up excuses of how he was tired.

You believed him at first, justifying his actions with silly reasons. You were only fooling yourself really, because deep down you knew it was something more.

Then one day the already strained relationship took a turn for the worst.

You don’t even know how one of the boys in your study group got ahold of your phone but it happened. Kazuma started scrolling through your photos and showing the rest of the group the embarrassing ones. You didn’t care, until he pulled up a certain photo.

“Y/n you never told us you had a boyfriend.”

“Huh?” You reply, confusion written all over your face.

“Is this not a picture of you and your boyfriend?” Kazuma passes your phone around letting everyone get a good look at the photo.

It was one of the only photos you had of Rintaro in your phone. His face wasn’t even fully visible, it was partially buried in your neck because he had fallen asleep.

This was one of your late night picnic dates and Suna had all but crawled on top of you, claiming you were more comfortable than any pillow. These were the moments you fell in love with and you wanted to commemorate at least one of them.

The phone had reached Suna and when you caught his eye, there was something about his reaction that made you uneasy. His facial expression was unreadable but you swore you saw irritation flash in his gray-yellow eyes.

no fighting and no stoppin’, stick around

“Oh that? It was a one time thing, don’t worry about it.”

A lie. A lie that could be easily discovered if anyone recognized the man in the photo.

“This kinda looks like Suna though?” Kazuma mumbles.

Multiple voices chime in agreeing with the phone thief. Then within seconds, all eyes were on the two of you, waiting for the answer to the unspoken question. Nerves begin eating away at your usual confidence and for once you were at a loss for words. But Suna was unfazed almost like he was prepared for this.

“Why would it be me? Y/n and I aren’t even a good match.” Suna mutters annoyed.

And just like that, everyone agrees with him.

Kazuma finally hands you your phone back and you immediately put it in your bag. The rest of the group moved on from the situation but you couldn’t especially with the way your “boyfriend’s” words replayed in your head.

There was no reason for you to be hurt, right?

He was only trying to protect your secret but there was no denying his words stung in a way you hadn’t expected. And it wasn’t only his words that chipped at your heart but his demeanor. He looked disgusted at the accusation and you couldn’t help but think; Is dating me such a horrible thing?

When you looked at Rin for reassurance, something to indicate you were letting unnecessary negative thoughts overrun your mind, you were met with a single text instead.

- delete the picture.

Crack.

That’s the sound of the first of many fractures your fragile heart would experience.

- people don’t need to find out about us.

No longer did it feel like he was trying to keep your relationship away from prying eyes. Now you felt like Suna was hiding you away like dirty laundry.

The studying had come to an end and everyone had gone their separate ways. Nyoko and you had decided to go down to the copy room together before heading home. The smell of freshly printed study guides and the whirring sound of the copy machines distracted you from your overwhelming thoughts.

But that peace doesn’t last very long.

“You know I was pretty shocked when Kazuma tried to say Suna was your boyfriend,” Nyoko admits. Her comment is harmless but with everything that has happened in the last hour, it felt like a knife to the chest.

“Why?”

“Suna has had a very strict type since I’ve met him and the two of us? We do not fit anywhere in it.” The shorter girl snorts, tucking a few box braids behind her ear.

All you can do is hum in response because you didn’t understand what she was implying. Rintaro had never mentioned any of his exes and you never mentioned yours. You were the type of couple that lived in the moment and maybe that was your downfall.

“What’s his type?” You know you shouldn’t ask but curiosity killed the cat and unfortunately, there was not enough satisfaction to bring it back.

Nyoko sets down her papers and pulls her phone out of her back pocket.

“Here I’ll show you. I have some pictures of his old girlfriends from when we all used to hang out.”

The girl starts swiping through the photos and you feel something happen within your chest.

Crack.

Another fracture to your heart and this time you could feel your emotions leak out of it like blood from a wound.

wish i was the type of girl you take over to mama

Oh. This is what Nyoko meant by type.

As she swiped through pictures, you were presented with girls who didn’t look like you. Not even one of them bore a resemblance to your features and now insecurity began to flood your mind.

the type of girl, i know my daddy, he’d proud of

Every single ex-girlfriend looked like Hollywood's favored choice, the one who was cast for the sake of diversity. Their tan skin and curly hair heavily contrasting your own deeper brown skin and coily hair. And by no means did you ever doubt your own beauty but seeing these pictures made something abundantly clear.

Suna Rintaro was ashamed of you.

wanna be the type of girl you take home to your mama

You didn’t look like them.

That’s why he replied to Kazuma with such distaste in his tone. There was no way he would date you after dating girls that looked like that. You were either getting played or this whole thing was some kind of elaborate prank.

Or even worse, Suna was experimenting. Using you like you were some kind of variable that he could control.

You were no stranger to these kinds of schemes, growing up as the lowest rung on society’s ladder made you fall victim to many evil plots.

But with Suna you thought it was different, he was different. That’s why the pain you felt was different, it wasn’t even heartbreak. Suna had ripped out every organ in your chest cavity and smashed it like glass.

You start questioning everything; your boyfriend, your relationship, yourself.

Is there something wrong with me?

Why am I never wanted the way other girls are?

Am I not pretty enough?

Am I not good enough?

Or is loving me something that always has to happen after the sun disappears?

wanna be the type of girl, i know your fellas they’d be proud of

“They’re pretty.” You whisper, swallowing the emotions that threaten to bubble over.

“Yea I guess. He seems to have a “preference” or whatever and he doesn’t branch out much but that’s none of my concern.” Nyoko shrugs her shoulders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

That was the end of the conversation for her, but for you? Your mind wouldn’t stop the constant negative thoughts.

normal girl, oh

And for the first time in a long time, you wished you looked different.

i wish i was a normal girl

Nyoko and you exit the copy room, saying your farewells as you leave. You walk down the empty campus halls and the silence that had replaced the usual chatter of students helped you think.

You had to confront Rintaro about what happened so you dug in your bag for your phone. When you pull it out you open your messages, finger hovering over the contact name: Nick Wilde.

The two of you had chosen secret code names for each other, in case anyone decided to go through your messages. Rin had chosen something cute for you, saying it suited you and when you showed him your choice he threw you a disappointed look. You thought it was hilarious, laughing so hard you could barely explain the reasoning behind it.

Now as you started to type out your message to him, you couldn’t remember what was so funny about it.

- we need to talk, meet at the usual place ?

He replied right away which came as no surprise to you, that boy was always on his phone.

- k.

You scoff at the message, your eyes must be deceiving you.

K? Is that all he had to say to you?

He didn’t even ask if you were okay after everything that happened. Your hurt was painted all over your face and Suna always picks up on your emotions. Sometimes knowing what you were feeling before you did.

Although this time he seemed like he was enjoying blissful ignorance.

You want to say that maybe he didn’t see you or he was too distracted by what had just happened but he looked you dead in the eye. Anything else you say now would be an excuse and you were done excusing his behavior. Suna simply refused to care, that is the only explanation.

You put your phone back in your bag, not wanting to look at the message any longer and start the trip to your usual meeting place.

normal girl oh, oh, oh

“You’re late.”

“We never agreed on a time.” Suna points out, a small smirk on his face.

“Do we ever?” You replied, not in the mood for his usual games.

Suna sits on the swing next to yours and the two of you fall into a tense silence. The chilly autumn breeze brushes over your exposed arms and goosebumps prick your skin. Your boyfriend catches the way you shiver and he hands you his jacket, mumbling under his breath about how you never dress for the weather.

“Keep it. I don’t want it.”

“Don’t be stubborn, you're anemic babe.”

“Yea probably one of the only things I have in common with your exes.” You retort.

The taller boy looks at you in confusion, he didn’t understand what his ex-girlfriends had to do with this conversation.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

i wish i was a normal girl

“I know what your exes look like and now our whole relationship makes sense. So tell me, how much money were you offered, or maybe you just wanted to get a taste?” You stood up from the swing, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What are you on about? Why are you bringing up my exes all of sudden?” Suna also gets up from the swing, aggravation written all over his face.

“None of them look like me Rin! I am the odd one out and to see you date them so openly while I’m hidden away like some sort of embarrassment hurts so much.” You cry out.

Every thought that had been circulating in your mind came out physically, masking in the form of tears that started to cling to your bottom lashes.

how do i be, how do i be your baby?

“But you said us dating privately was fine.”

“I know what the fuck I said. But the way you acted today made me realize something. You aren’t dating me “privately”. Our relationship is like some diary and I'm the hideous secret that’s been scribbled over.”

“Because of Kazuma? Because I told you to delete the dumbass picture? Fine, whatever you can keep it.”

You chuckle bitterly, you couldn’t believe what you were hearing. There was no way he genuinely thought that’s why you were upset.

“You don’t understand what I’m saying.”

“Then explain it to me because you seem to be mad for no reason.”

You stare at him, tears sliding down your cheeks but not out of sadness.

You were angry.

You didn’t want to believe it but this was Rin’s favorite tactic; deflection. He knew exactly what you were talking about but he refused to admit it because that meant he had to explain his emotions. And if there was one thing Suna Rintaro hated, it was having to explain himself.

i’ll never be, no, never be uh, oh

Your voice is louder than usual, the emotions dripping from every word and amplifying the volume.

“Is my skin not light enough for you huh? Is my hair not the right type of curl pattern? Or should I apologize instead? Sorry, I am not the type of girl you can show off to your friends. Sorry, that I’m not the type of girl that mothers seem to like. Oh! I’m deeply sorry that I don’t fit in the box that is your “preference.” And I’m so fucking sorry I’m not the beauty standard.”

Your apologies weren’t some sincere demonstration of remorse. They were cynical, almost like you were mocking him.

Suna stares at you, speechless from shock. Out of all the things that left your mouth, that is something he never expected. There was no way you actually thought those things to be true.

You continue, letting your words fall like the orange leaves that lie beneath your feet. You will not allow him to feel lesser, to feel like a joke.

“The girl I am right now, I love her more than anything. I am me and I can’t even imagine being anyone else nor do I want to. In my mind, I am the most beautiful person I have ever laid eyes on, and the fact I even let you make me doubt myself is appalling. And it’s all because of things that I can’t change, things that don't fit you. That’s why you hide me like some coward.”

“That’s not it y/n. That’s not why.” The boy whispers, trying to convince you but he doesn't sound so confident himself.

before that you figured out, i was just a normal girl

“So then what is it? Because this is the only thing that makes sense to me. You are ashamed of me. Why else would you hide me away like some secret? Why else would you sound so offended if Kazuma assumed we were together? What other reason would you not want to be around me anymore? Tell me what the real reason is because I am all out of ideas, Rintaro.”

Suna avoids your gaze, opting to stare at his dirty converse instead. He doesn’t say a word in response.

Crack.

Another fracture in your heart but this is the one that fully breaks it. Your heart shatters into sharp fragments, scattered in the space between you and your now ex-boyfriend.

His silence was what pained you the most. The quiet boy could have said something, anything. Suna could have pulled you into his arms and told you that every word you spoke was far from true. Or he could have at least confirmed your suspicions but he chose to remain complacent, remain silent.

So you made your choice too.

“Whatever. Have fun with your “preferences,” Suna.” You turn on your heels leaving the playground, tears blurring your vision as you walk away.

And just as you expected, he didn’t chase after you or even call out your name. Suna only watched you leave, like the moon did when the sun woke from its sleep.

normal girl, how do you be?

a/n: i actually debated posting this one because of the content but i ended up posting it regardless. this is something a lot of darker skinned black girls go through/relate to and i wanted a story to reflect that. i wanted other people who look like me to know that they aren’t alone in their experiences and these experiences do not define their beauty either <3. hope y’all enjoyed and took something from this story.

taglist: @santoteez @hyukathejaeger @cuppediacosmos @satorose @amisuh @missackerman1

#suna rintaro x reader #suna rintarō #crescendo #suna #haikyuu x black reader #haikyuu x y/n #suna fanfic #suna angst #mik0rin’s masterlist #saturn’s masterlist #haikyuu #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fanfiction #black y/n

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astateofjess · 2 years

Text

Twisted Games

February is the month of love, so it's only fitting that I would read a couple of romance books to celebrate!!! There are two annotations I wrote that I think perfectly describe the duality of emotions I felt throughout Twisted Games which include:

"How am I supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions, Mr. Larsen?!"

and

"A romantic h0rndog, we ♥ to see it."

We meet Rhys Larsen, a gritty ex-Navy SEAL bodyguard who takes on the role of protecting our queen Bridget von Ascheberg. It's an unexpected and forbidden love, a royal and head of her security detail, but when you spend so much time together... and you have someone as hot as Rhys... well.

Rhys has two rules and one of them is that he does not become emotionally involved with his clients. Ever. There are some extremely sweet little moments between Bridget and Rhys that illustrate how Rhys' walls slowly come tumbling down because he really does try to stick to his rules and keeps himself reserved at first.

Likewise, a strong-willed Bridget slowly starts warming up to the butterflies that flutter within her when she notices all of the small details that Rhys notices and acknowledges. As a bodyguard, it's his job to be observant of their surroundings but he's also equally as observant of her and all of the parts she hides from herself.

It's a slooooow burn, but when it starts burning... it's a SENSUAL kind of hot. I say this in comparison to the first book Twisted Love, where I felt like the romance was ICY hot. Maybe that's why I'm more into Rhys versus Alex Volkov because I prefer men who give off DILF energy. Considering Rhys is a Capricorn and he's 10 years older than Bridget... he EXUDES it for sure. (Also how cool is it that Ana Huang assigned zodiac signs for the characters that actually FIT?!)

Another interesting tidbit I found when comparing these two books is that in Twisted Love, the theme was about the lion and the lamb and in Twisted Games it is about the angel and the devil. Where we saw darkness vs light in Twisted Love, we see darkness vs innocence in Twisted Games.

One of my critiques of Twisted Love was that Alex didn't feel fully fleshed out, and I absolutely love that Rhys is far beyond just a broody, arrogant guy. We get a backstory that gets unraveled the further Bridget and Rhys intertwine in their relationship. What makes it special between the two is that although they have lead such contrasting lives, they ultimately simply understand each other and offer a soothing comfort to simply just be.

“Someone who saw all my scars and ugliness and still found me worthy, and somehow, someway, she’d fill the cracks in a soul I never thought would be whole again” (343).

While Rhys and Bridget are my current favs in the Twisted Universe, I am absolutely EXCITED to read Twisted Hate and absolutely devour the FIERY hotness of Josh Chen and Jules Ambrose!!

#twisted games #ana huang #twisted series

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