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hatsunerandal · 1 year

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whoever asked for my lockwood and co playlist, you are in for it :)

so ive decided to give the link to the playlist as well as come up with scenarios for each song so this is. gonna be a big doc. (also book spoilers)

heres the link to the actual playlist (ps if anyone knows the artist please let me know!!)

luv l8r - mom jeans im going to be honest, stole this from a fic, not much to say, just a song that reminds me of them

september - sparky deathcap the instrumental just gives cozy vibes, like something theyd listen to together whilst reading in the library, possibly cuddled up on the couch who knows. maybe even a cheeky little george pops in to bring them more tea, and sees them cuddled up on the couch and smiles before leaving the tea at the door as not to disturb them (alternatively: he joins them bc romantic locklyle + qpr george is a wonderful thing)

buzzcut season - lorde LOOK IDK ITS JUST SO THEM I CANT EXPLAIN IT THEYRE JUST SO. its a song with such a nostalgic feeling and i feel like it fits them, its a sort of montage song, at least to me. its a song that reminds me that theyre kids, because they really are just kids being put in these awful situations.

stars will fall - duster yet another library song, less romantic this time id guess, more just all 3 of them reading respectively in the library. lockwood probably reading old newspapers, lucy some sort of novel, and george either reading his comics or researching for a case.

drip drip drip fall - ewy a lockwood song, do with that what thou shalt :)

main character syndrome - wilbur soot another lockwood song. hes got main character syndrome and we all know it. seems a kipps vs lockwood sort of song yk? the lines "its not a problem its his niche" and "he smiles with only half his face" feel so very lockwood to me.

evans song - flower face OMLGFHKJGFHKJFJGH. its lucys song to lockwood. we get plenty of lockwood being a pathetic simp, but what about lucy? "to think i thought ive loved before, to think i fought so many wars" feels like a lucy line. she loved norrie (romantically and platonically (personal hc)), but shes never loved someone the way shes loved lockwood. theyve saved eachother countless times. i love them <3

shadow moses - bring me the horizon my playlist is. all over the place and you can really tell with this one. im not really sure specifics for this one but its definitely an angsty song so something along the lines of lucy getting ghost locked and lockwood panicking -> "can you tell from the look in her eyes/we're going nowhere"

call me what you like - lovejoy feels very "lockwood using holly as a replacement for lucy after she leaves" sort of deal. i will go more in depth on this one if anyone would like but i fear it may make the post longer than it needs to be just please dont attack me over this dhfdfgkjg.

a pearl - mitski HMHMMHMHMH necklace. the pearl is the necklace, lockwood is the war, shes fallen so deep in love. again this is post her leaving, pre her return. shes in an inn somewhere swirling the necklace around her fingers, missing him more than anything, thinking he didnt want her there. pain :D.

long long time - linda ronstadt MWAHKAHKJDFG this ones for the tlou fans. yall know :)

under the weather - corpse like i said. very all over the place playlist. yet another lockwood angst song, probably some sort of sickfic type deal, but more lockwood needs a mental health day and lucy (+ possibly george, depending on your personal hc (i am so mentally ill for romantic locklyle + george qpr)) caring for him and just. cozy vibes but also really sad bc <33

all we ever wanted was everything - bauhaus RAHHH SHOW CANON SONG. its just so them <33

blue hair - tv girl YOU CANT TELL ME THIS ISNT A LOCKWOOD SONG ITS SO HIM CMON. minus. the. misogyny yk

chemistry - kimya dawson lucy song [everyone gasps]. 'how did we end up here?/you said happenstance' hmshdhrg lucy asking lockwood how they ended up in the Consensual Workplace Relationship and they just talk and talk and talk afterwords, probably sometime late morning yk cozy just woke up vibes.

clementine - elliott smith herrhfhf scrungly soft locklyle vibes in the morning, waking up together, getting ready for the day together, they end up dancing in the kitchen to this song smiles i love them cries wails sobs

bouquet - ichiko aoba do i know what shes saying other than the flowers? no!!! is it cozy vibes? yes!! they are falling asleep after a long day listening to it i cant explain why

empire ants - gorillaz ft little dragon i. honestly do not know. another song similar to buzzcut season, feels like a reminder that theyre just kids. very well may be a lucy breakdown song who knows :)

it will come back - hozier we got our first hozier song boys. lucy leaving, lockwood breakdown, listening to this on repeat hoping wishing praying that she'll come back. wishing more than anything.

rule #27 - drunk on pride - fish in a bird cage lockwood is constantly drunk on pride, everyone knows it, everyone feels it. this is probably something along the lines of lucy and george being worried for him as he goes into a particularly dangerous job, fully confident and all to prideful. he comes out of it alive, but damaged.

tree hugger - kimya dawson im a bitch for kimya dawsona and fluffy ships but this also is a sort of 'they all wish they where somewhere else, but are happy with eachother too' kind of thing which proabably doesnt make much sense bUT IT MAKES SENSE TO ME OK CSHHSHSHSH

https://open.spotify.com/track/1F9f5t7GZk7aJZNGZIbfqP?si=c653de10148f4de5 <- link because youre nuts if you think im attempting to type out morse code lockwood just being a pathetic simp. probably watching her dance in the kitchen, late at night when neither of them are supposed to be awake, admiring everything about her till he eventually joins in on the dancing, they dance together into early hours of the morning before she carries him (YEA SHE CARRIES HIM WHAT ABOUT IT) up the stairs to lockwoods room, where they sleep for the rest of the day :>

locked out of heaven - bruno mars Ik the song is relatively sexual but we arent going there dw. just more lockwood being a hopeless romantic and being wildly in love with lucy, lucy is his heaven and he wishes to be nowhere else but with her at all times.

teenage dream - katy perry yk i had too. again, theyre teenagers, they act like teenagers. probably the song playing in lucys/lockwoods head constantly because shes just so giddy about their silly teenage love.

answering machine - ruby haunt to much happiness, angst now. a song lucy had on repeat walking the streets of london early in the morning to get coffee after she had left lockwood and co. maybe even walking past portland row, missing it dearly. little does she know, lockwood sees her, he hasnt slept a bit since lucy left, he usually just stares out the window into the night. but one day, he sees her walking past. he doesnt get out of bed that morning.

sleep thru ur alarms - lontalius i said we where done with happiness. more lockwood mental health issues but this time its the aftermath. lucy sitting in her room after a particularly bad fight with lockwood that had turned into him collapsing in her arms. shes just thinking about everything he said.

the first punch - pierce the veil im gonna be honest i meant to take this one out but its just there now i got nothin im low on gas and you need a jacket - pierce the veil i think lucy just like this one idk

heart-shaped box - nirvana lockwood feeling awful about asking lucy for help, sitting in his room thinking about it.

safeword - tv girl lucy telling lockwood about her time in her old town. about her old home.

fine - lemon demon me when i have like 8 million songs abt them being teenagers doing silly teenager things.

chloroform girl - polkadot cadaver UR GONAN TRY AND TELL ME THIS ISNG LOCKWOODS MUSIC TASTE BE FUCKOING QUIET he likes this song :)

swear to god the devil made me do it - the front bottoms god tfb is just so lockwoodcore. its just so him i cant explain it you understnad me maybe hopefully

flying model rockets - the front bottoms HOHOHOHOHOHOHO so lockwood dont you think. dont. dont you think. please agree with me.

blondie - current joys more cozy library/morning vibes. maybe some soft domestic little kisses as a treat.

young - vacations back to the angst. more pining and mourning after lucy leaves hee hee.

pretty boy - the neighborhood HES A PRETTY BOY SHE THINKS HES A PRETTY BOY THEY ARE PRETTY TOGETHER I LOVE HTEM CRIES CRIES CRIES

pretty boy - tv girl be quiet ik they have the same name they are so drastically differnet vibes. something something lucy thinking shes not good enough for lockwood bc she grew up poor and he was a rich little bastard /aff. but yea late night angst

it almost worked - tv girl RRUUFUFU angst they are so sad sad little people lucy is a sad little lass in her tiny little town she will never get out sobs.

space song - beach house wails cries sobs screams them. i will not elaborate.

golden hour - JVKE oh my GODD lockwood is such a hopeless fucking simp. hes such a stupid hopeless little simp. for her and her only all he looks at is her shes the best thing ever shes so beautiful all he does is take her in. they are in love.

who is she - i monster he doesnt believe she exists. shes not real. shes in his dreams. hes having a breakdown :)

always forever - the cults back to happy!! they are in love!!! always forever!! they will be together forever!!!!

gilded lily - cults SOBS SCREAMS CRIES WAILS EATS THEM THEYRE JUST KDIS THEYRE FORCED TO DO THIS HORRIBLE JOB BUT HTEY ARE JUST CHOLDREN THEYRE JSJSUT KIDS DJFGHJHA

pretty when you cry - lana del rey god theyre so sad. george lucy comfort lockwood that is all thank you.

carmen - lana del rey oh deary. oh lockwood oh my poor bbg

paper doll - flower face this is so lucy. shes a fragile paper doll and lockwood cares for her. but she feels like shes not enough she feels unworthy. lockwood is to good for her.

the night we met - lord huron OH MY GODDDD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD theyre so they mean so much to me im crying you understand i dont need to explain.

paper doll - flower face this is so lucy. shes a fragile paper doll and lockwood cares for her. but she feels like shes not enough she feels unworthy. lockwood is to good for her.

angela - flower face can you tell i like flower face. remember lockwood being a hopeless simp?? lucys turn!! lucys turn!!!!!!! shes so simp shes so simp but in such a sad way shes os in love with him but shes so worried he'll leave.

spiracle - flower face hee hoo hee hoo lockwood breakdown. more lockwood breakdowns, but this time its before he and lucy where together. its just him panicking late at night about his love for lucy, afraid he'll end up killing her with his love because nothing good comes from letting people in.

jupiter - flower face THEY FEEL SO SAFE TOGETHER THEY ARE HOME TOGETHER THEY ARE EACHOTHERS HOME. lucys home is with lockwood and george at portland row :DDDDDD

small world - jack stauber cozy coffee run vibes ykyk domesticity

death cup - mom jeans 'i think its bout time i warned you i might cry in front of you' oh come ON thats so lockwood this entire song is just lockwood opening up to lucy.

legit tattoo gun - the front bottoms lockwood tfb agenda is spreading.

insomniac - memo boy lockwood insomniac real hes so not sleep the dark circles are so visible im. emotionally unstable.

post to long. need part 2.

#lockwood and co #locklyle #lucy carlyle #anthony lockwood #george karim

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the-kipsabian · 1 year

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is kip sabian a tumblr sexyman

//kinda heavily edited 7/28/23. im trying to be more neutral about this, still keeping this within just the on-screen character. added in a few more things that are on the list linked below, so the results have actually kinda drastically changed now these are still just my opinions and ofc this doesnt negate how hes really perceived, its just interesting to see this being called out so many times but when you put actual evidence on it, boy how the tables turn lmao

so we all have probably heard the question by now

seeing this post on my dash, i have found resources now to see for myself, collect data and give you the actual result to this burning question

i got you tropes, my takes on them and whether they apply to him under the cut. things to note, this is my personal view tho im trying to keep it neutral, and im only tackling the on-screen character as its been portrayed on tv and some other special occasions when it has specifically shined through (take him invading ocs streams for example)

green is yes red is no yellow is maybe anything in italics are an edit from the original post

4th wall blurring - technically wrestling is already very blurred lines, but take the kip/oc feud for example and the lengths he took it to on social media, twitch etc. outside the ring

Androgynous - arguable, its the eyeliner for me bro. that and the way he carries himself. currently this also includes the hair/hair colors and the eye shadow. gender is a social construct

Animal theming

Angst - it depends how you view it. its not like full blown angst sadness, but it sure does exist, especially with how he talks about himself tbh

Bait - he just organically formed into this shape. i dont believe he specifically designed this style or characteristics to make himself be perceived as a tumblr sexyman

British

Burton

Capitalist

Chaoslord

Chronokinetic

Criminal

Cosmic

Clown

Controversial - i dont know why some of yall hate him so much but apparently people do so. whatever

Deadpan snarker - he can be, but not to a point of a defining character trait

Dealmaker

Detective

DILF - not yet

Distinctive voice - so the source list updated this to feature catchphrases and yes. "embrace the change", "time doesnt heal it changes you", "underrated and over it". you get the deal

Divorced

Dominating - there are cases. but mostly i think hes just a pathetic fool idk. but also this is a theming in wrestling in general so like. go figure

Duality - with and without the box, there is a difference

Egotistical

Eldritch - only in fanon i think ive seen this one. and partially personally applied this one lol (tho i mean idk if we get the box back in some form we might see more hints about this so it might turn into a maybe!!)

Eye imagery

Fanon splintering

Forest Dweller

Gay/LGBTQ+ coded

Girlboss

Glowing neon

Goo

Himbo - okay listen. as much as i would LOVE to mark this one as a solid yes, since we are strictly talking about boxman era and after on-screen kip, this doesnt stand, as he doesnt show himbo behavior on camera. im keeping it as a maybe tho, just for the sake of showing that im aware and i care <3

Hot-headed

Intelligence - also counts for the sub category smartdumb. an idiotic mastermind

Johnlocked - dont get me wrong, ive seen ships, but i dont think its ever been super extensive or overpowering. yall need to work harder lol. unfortunately despite my personal bias and seeing its growth in popularity, i still cannot mark this even as a maybe

Knifemurder

Mad scientist

Magnificent bastard - im just gonna copy the definition here. "As per TV Tropes, a Magnificent Bastard is a "villain (or morally gray character at best) portrayed as confident, charming schemers who thinks on their feet, outsmarts their competitors with style and grace, and remains graceful even in the event of defeat"."

Marked canon/fanon divergence

Monster features

Mysterious - boxhead in the crowd for months building intrigue + the unadvertised meet and greets at events. plus seemingly extensive lore we never get/got, unexplained box mysteries, etc.

Neurodivergent - i was thinking about excluding this, but he talks about his adhd so openly PLUS a big part of boxman came from the depression and anxiety of when he was on the shelf after surgery so. it counts for me

Nonhuman

Object head

Obscured face - technicality, but i count it as he wore the box for so fucking long. we didnt see his actual face for literally a year

Obsessive - HAVE YOU SEEN HOW OFTEN HE TWEETS AT OC i rest my case

Oncelerization

Pale twink - im making a personal decision to say no on this as none of the definitions really hit the mark like, at all. literally the only ones on the list are 'young' and 'dude' like. nope

Parental figure

Parental issues

Pathetic - A THOUSAND TIMES YES

Perpetual smiler - he gets the shit kicked out of him in the ring and still fucking laughs at it on the spot

Power

Power of love - yall have seen penelope, right?

Religious imagery - no, but marking sub category demonic as a maybe since connections to penelope

Retro - this is interesting, im putting it down as maybe since its not really showing but the current design choices with the grayscale gear makes me think about old timey stuff

Robot

Royalty

Scars

Secret agent

Short

Tall - im withdrawing this one, since the definition is "really/abnormally tall" and hes only 5'11 so. this was marked as a 'maybe' before

Teacher figure

Theme song

Thin - "characters that are fairly slim but dont fit under pale twink" i can accept this lol

Traitor/Twist villain

Twisted freaking cycle path

Unkempt

Upper class - i dont necessarily consider it but i guess. keeping this as a maybe since the suit aesthetic is very high class so

Urban legend aesthetics - CRYPTID RIGHTS FOR KIP

Villain/Morally gray/Refined villain/Technically antagonist

Well-dressed/Suitguy/Long coat - suit, pinstripes, long coat. i kind of want to also say the alt fashion counts here since he can be very emo but you know

White twink humanization - all im asking is that you dont humanize that box. please

White hair

29/75 40/75 6/75

final thoughts:

so i see where this thought comes from. he definitely hits like some of the biggest tropes (fancy british man with an object head, a stupidly catchy theme song and catchphrases, a hot wife and a plan to dominate orange cassidy the world), but we are also missing some obvious ones like him being just a stupid murder whore so like. go figure

this is a very subjective list im aware, there are a few things that could probably be seen differently but i, as a self proclaimed Expert And Conspiracy Theorist In The Kip Sabian Space™, will hold this belief system until someone tells me otherwise lmao

anyways this was just for fun dont take this as seriously as i did the first time around lol. enjoy, just dont argue with me. if you need any tropes need explaining, look at the link above and/or just ask and i'll let you know what i was thinking with marking them if there arent notes explaining or if they are confusing

✌

#this is still the single stupidest thing ive ever done but behold #i spent so much time on this originally and now going through it again wow #anyways. have fun im gonna have coffee oof #kip sabian #my beloved #kip in a box #i need to tag this now in case i need to find it again fuck me #wrestling musing

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trippygalaxy · 8 months

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So i cant help but write abt this, im srry if like you dont have the same hair type or smt like that? Anyway i rlly dont see any fics abt curly haired readers SO why not write chaotic curly hair reader with the entire chain >:) Lol not the reader able to steal rupees and put them in their hair without the chain noticing >:DDDD HOPE U ENJOY BTW THIS IS JUST LIKE I LITTLE DRABBLE I THOUGHT OF NOT RLLY THE OFFICIAL OF THE OTHERS

Readers POV:

WHY DID THIS MONKEY THINK OF THIS, EXCUSE ME BUT I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS! We at a nice river, wind was bien the little gremlin he was and yk me, just chillin......drawin time anime style in a Pikachu onesie.......... big brain ik. "AYO BROSKI, U BETTER WATCH WHERE YOU THROW YOUR WATER! I DO NOT WANNA GET WET TODAY!" I yell at wind cause for some reason he looked like he was getting sturdy on the water....thats wild frfr (sturdy is a type of dance btw) "this bun is killing me" I mumbled to myself, closing my sketchbook. I wore a bun the entire time i traveled with the chain. I had my reason tho. If i were to take of the bun, my hair would be a complete mess AND so poofy. Especially if i get it wet. Also i havent seen a curly haired person in all the hyrules yet so im not sure either way.... BUT IM TIRED SO YK WHAT? FUCK ALL THAT AND BYE BYE BUN! I took off the hair tie carefully trying not to hurt and pull my hair, mission failed. As i guessed my hair was a complete mess and.... wait i got a afro? neat. "WOAHHHHH Y/N YOUR HAIR!" I looked up, my bangs were covering half my face. That voice came from wind, THIS LITTLE GREMLIN STILL IN THAT NASTY WATER BRO. "Yea what about it?" I said confused, yall really never saw curly hair before? "Its so poofy! and curly..." Wild said, bros interested "Yea I know! Yall really never saw this hair type before?" I questioned cause HOW COME THEY NEVER SEEN THIS BEFORE?? "Well not in my hyrule" Sky said from next to me. This guy really used a ender pearl to get here "Same, do u mind if I touch your hair? If not its ok! It just looks so soft.." AWWWWW HOW COULD I SAY NO TO MY HYRULE MY POOKIE! "Yea of course, I really don't care" I said like it was nothing, I REALLY REALLY HOPE THIS MONO POOKIE NUMBER 139 DOESNT PULL MY HAIR CAUSE IF HE DOES ISTG "Wow, its so soft!" "Tankeu" Ayo is that leged comein closer IS HE FINALLY GONNA NOTICE ME- "Why do you look like a pom pom. Your hair covers half your face, you know that right?" ....... EMOTIONAL DAMAGE "I know, have you seen curly hair before?" "Can't say that I have" oh, so no hyrule had curly hair??? "Well i have, i think?" TWILIGHT MY BABA GWORL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH RN COE HERE SO I CAN GIVE U KISSES- "Really! Thank lord" "Well i think, i saved this girl who had curly hai then she left." Oh damn. Imagine "How do you even de-tangle your hair?" Warriors said from ThE sHaDoWs "You dont, till you wash it that is. and when you do, you go part my part so you dont yank your hair" I need to wash my hair.......... "Ohhh, you put in a bun so u can fight right?" MAN ENOUGH WITH THE QUESTIONS BRO! Imma die here wih these monos questioning me

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS! I ALSO HOPE YOU ARE WELL! the next one i think might be legend....idk CYA NEXT TIMEE!

"THIS MONO POOKIE NUMBER 139"

is my favourite fucking thing OH MY FUCKING GOD!!!

Wind fucking do the sturdy is infact WILD DSHJKDA like MY GUY!! get out of the nasty ass water and get ur ass up here! Fucking hell HDSJA

Of course they're asking all these questions-- nosy mfs!!!

(I dont have curly hair but this was still a DELIGHT to read!!!! thank you so much anon! <3)

#trippy answers #anon ask #tales from the void

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bennieperez · 11 months

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(( hello all , i am brie and i am soooooo beyond excited for this !! i loved putting bennie together and i absolutely cannoooooot wait to start interacting with yall !! this here is the bare bones of bennie , and i will be eventually making her a carrd with all her juicy info hehe . for now here are some basic facts along with some info from my app, so you can hopefully get a lil gist of this gal !! also pleeeeeease feel free to message , im , or hit me up on discord (brie#5129) to do some plotting !!!! i dont have any maaaajor wc yet (im sure i will) , but if you have any gaps you’d think bennie might be a good fit in , please send them right on my way !!! okay ahhh hehe without further adooooooo...))

Full Name: Beatrice Rosalia Perez

Nickname(s): exclusively goes by bennie

Age: 26

Date of Birth: dec. 15th

Gender: cisfem

Pronouns:she/her

Orientation: bisexual

Occupation: works at family business “best stitch”

Positive Traits: gregarious, forthcoming, dependable

Negative Traits: indecisive , scatterbrained , obtuse

Goals/Desires: secretly wishes to own her own restaurant/bakery

Fears: afraid of failing (duh) , heights (even tho she loves rollercoasters) , and insects (all of them)

Hobbies: baking , video games, photography, and it’s not a hobby but bennie loveeees babies

Season: spring

Color: lavender

Music: throwbacks

Movies: animated

Sport: basketball

Beverage: shirley temple

Food: french fries

Animal: kangaroo

Father: her closest confidant

Mother: strained but loving

Sibling(s): (will add if siblings show up)

Children: none

Pet(s): two dachshunds

Beatrice Perez was born just as Breanna’s career was exploding in New York City. The nickname “Bennie” came from her older sibling being unable to pronounce her name when she was born, and it just stuck around until it became the norm. Beatrice rarely ever hears her full name these days.

The family moved back to Fairford when Bennie was 10 , as her mother had built her career big enough to at least start to settle down , though she was often in and out of the house for business throughout Bennie’s childhood which led to her having an extremely close relationship to her father who fostered her love for cooking at a young age. She baked her first cake at 11 and has been the go to baker for the events in their family ever since.

Bennie often felt like she was competing for her mother’s eyes, whether it be from her other siblings , or fashion; it felt like short glimpses whenever she had her mother’s full attention.

She went away to college for culinary arts when she was 20 , much to the chagrin of her mother who all but bribed her to stay home and work for her. Bennie needed the separation though, and was unconvinced. At school she thought she met “the one,” he was studying business and on their first date they made jokes about opening a bakery together one day. They went through all the motions, were engaged on their second anniversary, and everything seemed perfect. Bennie was preparing to graduate college when she had found out her fiancé had been cheating on her for “over a year” and wanted to come clean now that they were about to “enter adulthood.” Bennie left their apartment, her friends worked together to completely empty their place of her things, and she never spoke to him again. She graduated, came home, and has told few about the details. Most people (even those in her own family) know the story as they amicably broke up and she came home to resume partaking in the family business.

She now works at Best Stich a little begrudgingly, though she does take pride in her family history and isn’t completely closed off on the idea of keeping the legacy alive. Her biggest fear is never leaving her mother’s shadow, and always being “Beatrice (né Bennie) Perez... Breanna’s daughter.”

Bennie is pretty close with her siblings , though some more than others.

Still loves to cook, though doing it comes with the painful reminder of the life she left behind that she’s desperately trying to let go of. Excels at baking and enjoys doing it in her free time. Her love language is still baking cakes.

#fairfordintro #ahhhhh omgggggg #im so excitedddddddd #hi hehe

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rottenmarquee · 1 year

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So i made a script. Meant to be an audio so uh idk if it can work as text bcs it instructs you to close your eyes. Unfortunately, honestly just not a big fan of the concept and i dont want to record it. Its not bad, ig. Just i don't feel like it'd be fun to record, idk why.

Here it is. Yall are free to record or upload or whatever, i kinda just abandoned it. Is a less kinky one, just possession ig. I will try to make nsfw in the future but difficult to record due to living situations

Content and warnings : fear, possession, hypnosis, being pursued, restricted breathing/hyperventalating

Let's begin by feeling your own body weight sink down below you, weather it be into a mattress or couch cushions or otherwise. Feel your own body weight sinking down into it. With every passing second, your body feels a little heavier. And, so do your eyelids.

Feel your breathing slow down a bit as well, your body getting ready to go to sleep. And as your breathing slows, you find your eyelids starting to flutter open and shut. It is getting more and more difficult with each passing second to keep them open.

So you can let them close now, let them close and feel your mind sink down so deep as you do.

So deep, so gentle, an inky blackness overtaking your field of view.

And as i count from 10 to 1, you will relax more and more. And when I reach 1, you'll feel as if you have fallen asleep.

Sinking down

Dropping deep

Sinking so sleepily

More and more

Everything feeling so heavy

Halfway there

Feeling so pleasantly tired

Everything feels so exhausting

Almost there

Sleep for me

Sleep deep, deep, deep for me

Feel as if your mind is plummeting deep into darkness, tranquil and quiet darkness

And now, start to see a dim light

It gets closer and closer, taking up more and more of your surroundings until it engulfs everything

Everything is a little hard to see, a little blurry, but it soon it comes into focus

You are in a dimly lit hallway in a very old house.

The hallway seems to stretch on to infinity in either direction, and there are a countless doors lining either side. You smell the faint smell of old perfume and dust in the air, and the floorboards creak below your feet.

You walk for a few feet before turning to the door on your right and opening it. The door opens with a loud creak, and you enter a room. The room is too dark to see, and it is so cold inside this room that you start to shiver. You turn around to leave, and as you do, you feel two icy cold hands try to grab you.

Luckily for you, you are able to slip away at just the right time. You run out of the room and turn back. You could have sworn that you felt something grab you, but you do not see the ice cold arms that almost wrapped around your body.

It must have just been your imagination, there surely was nothing there. And yet, you can't shake the feeling that something is in the dark shadows of that room, watching you.

And as you stare deep into that dark room in anticipatation, you start to feel a lump in your throat and your eyes widen. You try to turn away, but you find yourself frozen in place. Your heart starts to thump so loud and so hard that you can feel it pounding. Your breathing starts to pick up in speed a bit as well.

And then, although you cannot see it, you feel a cold hand reach out from the shadows and touch your arm. Immediately, you start running. You run as fast as you possibly can, doing everything to get away from that room. You hear footsteps behind you and they seem to slowly be catching up to you.

You run and you run, your legs starting to go numb with exhausted and your breathing has gotten even faster. You soon find that this hallway has no turns or corners, that it simply continues on forever. If you want to lose your pursuer, you are going to have to go inside another room.

And so you take a sharp turn to your left and bolt towards the nearest door. You do not know exactly where your pursuer is in relation to you, but you hope that you have enough time to reach and open the door before you are caught. You grab the doorknob of the closest door to you and twist it.

The door is locked. You start to panic more, frantically looking around for another door to try. but before you can think, you feel those ice cold arms wrap around you, trapping you in place.

The arms feel frail, but somehow strong enough to keep you securely trapped. Your pursuer appears to be invisible, and their bony embrace starts to dig into you whenever you try to get away.

Then, you start to hear a your captor speak. It speaks softly, and you can feel its cold breath as it speaks.

"You have no reason to fear" they say, "you don't even need to think right now"

Your body involuntarily starts to relax. You do not have a choice, your body simply loosens. You stop hyperventilating, your breathing slowing.

It speaks again.

"Relax and give in for me. It is going to be okay. I am not going to hurt you. There is just something that I want from you"

You try to fight it, but you can't. Your facial muscles start to loosen, your eyelids start to feel heavy, and your resistance starts to melt away.

As this happens, you start to feel something enter your body in a way, as if your body is absorbing something. You feel some sort of energy flow into your body, something alien and unnatural. As it flows into you, you can feel as if you have less and less control of yourself. You are rapidly losing control, and all you can do is let it happen. The bony embrace keeping you in place starts fading inward, as if it is fusing with you. As this continues to happen, you feel yourself take a backseat in your own body. You feel as if you are finding a quiet space in your mind, a place to lie dormant as your body is possessed by a new soul.

You feel your arms and legs moving out of your control. You look at your hands and down at your feet before walking forward, walking down the long, dark hallway. All you can do is watch it happen, your body no longer under your control.

You feel fuzzy and relaxed, unable to really grasp the severity of your situation. You drift off, off into a peaceful slumber while your body acts out of your control.

And now, the dream is starting to end. You are now waking up, feeling your eyes open once again. And as i count from 1 to 5, youll wake from this dream, regaining control of your body.

1, feeling yourself drift towards wakefulness

2, feeling your body get less heavy

3, becoming aware of your surroundings

4, filling with energy

And 5, wake up and open your eyes, and have a nice rest of your day

#minors dni #hypnosis #hypnotized #hypnokink #mind control

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incarnateirony · 2 months

Note

Why don't you block her, delete the blog you dedicated to her, and then move on with your life? Lol

BECAUSE I'VE BLOCKED HER ON LIKE THIRTY PLATFORMS AND SHE STALKS ME

THIS IS HER LEARNING TO STOP BURNING HER HAND ON THE STOVE

SHE HAS ABUSED ME FOR THREE

YEARS

SINCE I LEFT HER

BECAUSE OF HER OBSESSION

This isn't "dedicating my blog to her"

This is me dedicating my existence to erasing hers.

Figuring out the difference.

and you, people like you are the fucking problem I kept rolling over to this fucking monster to comply with

SHE SPENT SIX MONTHS STALKING MY BUSINESS INVESTOR, YALL

ID IGNORED THIS FUCKING BEHEMOTH FOR ONGOING YEARS AND IT DIDNT STOP HER STALKING DOWN EVERYONE AND EVERYTHING AND EVERYWHERE

CUZ SHE GOT FUCKED UP

AND MADE A CULT TO ME I AM TRYING TO DISBAND

THREE YEARS! AND A FUCKING!! CULT!! TO RAPING MY FACE!! SHE IS GROOMING PEOPLE INTO!!

'oh just move on"

I FUCKING TRIED, WE'RE BEGGING HER TO DO THE SAME

I CANNOT EMPHASIZE ENOUGH, SHE CONFUSED ME WITH HERMES BECAUSE OF THE SHIT I CAN DO, SHE GOT ALL FUCKED UP, SHE'S QUOTING MY OLD ANIME JIBBERISH AS DOCTRINE AND SHIT, SHE'S ALL BASS ACKWARDS AND HER OBSESSION HAS KEPT HER UP MY ASS FOR *THREE YEARS*

THREE

FUCKING

YEARS

sorry yall believe in magic or not but right now we're in a timeline being bent so fucking hard her "holy water" turned acidic and she won't look at that, because there's millions of people involved in this at a subconscious level, also sorry. This shit isn't stopping until she dies or lets me go, and people whining on my fucking tumblr that I'm finally giving the princess her fucking attention she's been fucking ordering can go rot with her. I'm DONE being abused. I'm DONE watching her make my brother suffer. I'm DONE.

There is, in fact, a god out there even begging her to do the same, because of what and how he is, and he's stuck in the middle of her horse shit getting all fucked up too, because he's dissonance and spirit, and she's getting him and her both stuck in shadow loops and she still won't give a shit.

This bitch sees me astrally insult her through time like twice and gets all fucked up on it.

You think THIS is tributing MY life to her? She has MY shit signed on her blog, her business. Her whole life. Hence being able to start magically destroying her from the inside out like has been happening. This has been 3 weeks of me giving her treatment back to her. Multiply that over fifty. Cuz she's been doing it to me for three YEARS

FIGURE OUT THE DIFFERENCE.

THIS IS CONSEQUENCES.

I'M DONE RUNNING FROM MONSTERS JUST BECAUSE FIGHTING THEM IS INCONVENIENT TO SOMEONE ELSE'S FEED.

IT'S BEEN THREE FUCKING YEARS. AND SHE LITERALLY HAS HER EVERYTHING SIGNED IN MY IMAGE. AND STALKS ME. AND WON'T STOP UNTIL SHE LETS GO OF THE SHIT SHE ALREADY ADMITTED SHE WAS FUCKED UP ON BUT WON'T UNFUCK HERSELF ON IT OR GET OFF MY SHIT

BECAUSE SHE CAN'T LET GO WHICH IS WHY IF I DONT FINISH THIS SHE WILL BE BACK UP MY ASS IN THREE MONTHS AGAIN

THATS HOW THIS GOES. SHE LITERALLY BOUND HERSELF TO ME IN HER OBSESSION AND IGNORANCE AND I KEEP TRYING TO GET HER OFF.

Bitch has every generation of the great magicians of the past screaming to leave everybody the fuck alone at a soul level to the point everyone around me is getting vibed off the planet too and she still won't fucking care. She has literally been dragged through time, had her altar turned to acid, her spider's dead, all kinds of shit is just telling her to let go, I've mentally rewired her so hard she even sees and hears what I want her to and keeps accidentally confirming it, but just because I've had the audacity of leaving her a few personality markers without complete psychic collapse from her yet, she is STILL clinging to my fucking dick. Because the rot, infestation and obsession is that deep. Even when things start melting or dying, and even when she knows she's been mistaken, and even when she's starting to fall under direct compulsion and command, she literally cannot bring herself to let go of the illusion of me.

And that. is why. she and hers. have stalked me. for three. YEARS. She's chasing what she thinks she's after, cuz he aint with her the way she wants. Her own shit ironically prevents it, and he's tried to reason with her to fix it, and she won't listen to him either. She's basically torturing the god she claims to follow, thinking of me instead, to the point I threw up from the emotions of a bajillion people from HIM having a breakdown the other night, and no, those weren't mine, that's not my upset. I'm just furious and want to skin her until she stops making noise. He's the one trying to care, but she doesnt.

She has literally sacrificed her identity and soul to her obsession, and that's why we're literally rewiring her internally. If I have to build a whole other fucking person to walk out of here, I will, because otherwise the options are very fatal, and those are also on the table.

No seriously I deadass said I don't care if I walk out of this with zero followers, because digital life is digital life and I have the skills to rebuild. I don't fucking care. My real life, my business, my identity, my quarter century dedication to a god she's roleplaying to replace communion with and totally fucking up people's not just immortal paths but generational ones, these things are more important than if pussystieluwu dot tumblr dot com is bothered.

No seriously this bitch has made me bend the timeline SO HARD that I am *literally insulting her ten years ago* but she's too dense to realize I'm calling her fat, and stupid, even then, but that must be what hermes looks like yup I fucking CANT, I am DONE.

My ass DOES look better in this dress. And the thousands of dresses all subtweeting her and her cat hilarity. cuz she can't replicate what I can do, all she can do is suddenly pretend to ignore it and hope I give up when people like YOU whine at me enough, and I'm not, I'm not stopping it. All she has to do is remove her fucking altar and temple to me from her life and all the false teaching bs she's doing, she literally just has to remove her fraud bullshit, and she won't. Again, she can't, she's psychologically dependent on the ghost of me she built into her whole life and even groomed her fucking spouse into, so now if she lets go her EVERYTHING is fucked, so this obsessed spiral of hers continues, and I'm breaking the fucking loop even if it means breaking HER.

No literally even while I'm tearing her apart the god she pretends to adore kept trying to reason with her and even begged her by using the spirit of valentines day itself to break through the fucking distortions caused by this shit on an above-superbowl-level, and she still wouldn't listen. She won't listen to ANYONE but her own instinct to drive backwards, and when she drives backwards to ancient greece, gets confused that my messaging is still slapping her 2000 years ago too and ignores that

That's how fucking obsessed this nutbag is. I can literally drag her through time to talk to the ancients of the past she's disrupting with her shit and she still won't fucking let go or learn or read a book or ANYTHING. just garfield WONDER WHO THATS FOR meme. DUR WHY WHEN AARON SAY I PLAY DARK MAGICIAN HOUSE GET FULL OF RAGING SHADOWS FREAKING OUT MY PETS AND I GET DRAGGED TO GREECE. WHAT A NICE OLD HARD WORKING MAN BUT HE SEEMED INTIMIDATING, HE WAS TALKING TO ME ABOUT DOING THE FUCKING WORK, JUST LIKE AARON IS, WONDER WHAT THAT MEANS.

Eat shit, the original drums came out the other day and she still wouldn't listen to the beat and I'm pretty sure that was her last chance to hear from him before the full moon, the rest is her deciding how much she's willing to risk for the next however long.

Eat shit, we're on our own remix.

FOOLISH

GLAMROCK

youtube

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sl33pyperson · 3 months

Text

hang on i think i have a bunch of screenshots from trying to speedrun this terrible series. these r like from a month ago so idk if im getting context right

it is insane how much i hate the shadow council. they are Trying to implement like, “ooohhh look at this character and theyre actually in the council!!” but gods its just. i dont like ittttt

sorry this is like all part of dooms plan but seeing him take a grenade for Marc Fucking Spector is rly funny to me. like damn. didnt know yall were that close

serving cunt

right they gave mk a suit of armour! he does look cool ngl

idk why seeing mr fantastic is entertaining. get lied to asshole. mk also rly got a skin eating disease from (checks hand) a fucking other alternate ghost evil identity of some merc that he knew. idk whats going on man.

ass

and it SUCKS bc he looks SOOOOOOOO good here!!! this series doesnt deserve it!!

this is such a spector move o7 love being paranoid. hate that the comics were like “ohhh but if ONLY he DID stalked his loved ones more he couldve saved them earlier” like no dont say that this couldve been a good thing. leave marc alone (also frenchie :( )

omg i just love the panel on the left. yes let the mask emote nothing is sexier (good boy…..)

i forgot what this was for. infinity war? infinity crisis? i dont fucking know. our man also doesnt fucking know. he is so lost.

why did i screenshot this. i think it was bc agatha. is she still getting her own show. i hope not. also hi wondy <3

another mk oh boy. 2. he is just hiding in the corner help him. 3. hehe dd <3333

“shadowkeep” i fucking hate it i haaate it. what i do love is mk not knowing anyone else except for the ppl who hes met directly. idk who that is either king

HI GAMBIT!!! i used to love him from that one animated xmen show. what a guy. thank you sir.

this still hasnt rly come to fruition in the series yet (hopefully after the crusades :/// )

hehe get fucked cap <3 also mk shut the fuck up let gambit talk to u u asshole

finally

wheres that post of someone going like “damn mr fantastics kid is just constantly fucked up we should put him down”. i want to hear the other ways this kid is fucked up

even og mk is like “fuck this shit man i dont deal woth multiverse stuff” ALSO WEREWOLF MK?? YES??? why hasnt anyone focused on this more. i need more werewolf mk stuff in my life. please

hang on i hit photo limit

#speaking time

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arillusionist · 5 months

Text

last s&b ep part the second

this is the kanej scene bye i cant do this

the way she has to bite her lip to not talk

HE WAS LOOKING FOR HER PARENTS 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔

YOU CAN LITERALLY SEE THE BOOK LINE GOING ON the old answers came easily to mind money vengeance jordie's voice in my head silenced forever but a different reply roared to life inside him, loud, insistent, and unwelcome YOU, INEJ. YOU AHHHHH

STAY IN KETTERDAM STAY WITH ME

AND WHAT WOULD BE THE POINT

I WANT YOU TO I WANT I WANT YOU

THE WAY SHE CARRESES HIS HAND

AND HOW WILL YOU HAVE ME GLOVES ON FULLY CLOTHED YOUR HEAD TURNED SO OUR LIPS NEVER TOUCH

I WILL HAVE YOU WITHOUT YOUR ARMOR KAZ BREKKER OR I WILL NOT HAVE YOU AT ALL

im going crazy rn my fists are clenched so hard they hurt

he nodded. he fucking NODDED.

this is their last scene together. we never get to see anything past this because of fucking netflix I HATE THEM SO BAD

thats inej. oh.

wow okay im going to break something time to be mad at the writers

SHE DESERVES HER OWN SHIP. THE WHOLE POINT OF HER GOING OFF IS TO MAKE HER OWN LEGACY AND NOT BE EMPLOYED UNDER SOMEONE *AGAIN* THE FUCK.

AND SHE DESERVES TO BE HUNTING SLAVERS NOT DOING WHATEVER THE FUCK THEYRE DOING

bye i dont even know who im mad at atp

oh she is hunting slavers

IDGAF SHE STILL DESERVES TO BE CAPTAIN. OF HER OWN SHIP.

i know its stupid to be mad because they were probably thinking they would get to make the spinoff and give her her own ship at the end of the last season but i dont care. theres no spinoff.

he has to fight wolves thats . wow

nina being there too is so awful

the letter being fucking crushed too

atleast wesper is happy. haha :)

oh my god hes buying out the menagerie girl's indentures just like inej said at the start of season one...

i cant

ew its the apparat

hes so annoying. and ugly

oh damn is that merzost or what

srry yall i havent read kos yet

atleast alina looks pretty!! and happy. kinda

here they go with the book lines again

"i could fix him" BYEE but it makes me so sad to know thats the only onscreen zoyalai moment we'll ever get

omg zoya nina and alina are the trio ever 💪🏽💪🏽

THEYRE TALKING ABOUT THE ICE COURT JOB THE ONE WE'LL NEVER GET TO SEE

tf who is that bitch

is that blood?? coming out of their mouths??

alina has shadow powers???

oh she likes it...!! stop i needed to see the rest of her storyline so bad shes become one of my favorite characters im gnna cry 🙂

and thats it. not tagging this cuz its mainly just for me but im gonna go cry again over the fact that we'll never get closure to those million cliffhangers and also go sign the petition a million times ex oh ex oh

#sab reaction

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jack0boi · 2 years

Photo

this meme but it’s Voided Destiny

#voided destiny #Super Paper Mario #Paper Mario OC #Dimentio #i forgot to post here again #yall dont even know shadow yet #turning red

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that-pissed-off-tolkien-blogger · 3 years

Text

Most people’s intrusive thoughts: self destructive/violence/loading sounds

Mine: Talion didn’t dare withdraw his entire length lest he accidentally penetrate one of those odd slits either side of Shelob’s oddly warm cunt. (Not that he is sure he should call it a cunt.) He hadn’t expected it to be warm, or at least he doesn’t think he had. Certainly he had expected some difference from the spider’s hard exoskeleton, but he had not expected the warmth of a human or orcish lover.

#I AM NOT RELIGIOUS AND YET HERE I AM CROSSING MYSELF IN THE MIDDLE OF EACH SENTENCE #I HAVENT BEEN ABLE TO GET THE IMAGE OF NAKED TALION UNDER A GIANT SPIDER OUT OF MY HEAD #DO YALL KNOW WHAT SPIDER SEX SOUNDS SOUND LIKE???#NO??? WELL APPARENTLY I DO BECAUSE THEYRE BOUNCING AROUND MY HEAD AND HAVE BEEN FOR HOURS NOW #PLEASE KILL ME NOW THANK YOU #IF I HAVE TO SEE TALIONS COCK ENTER SHELOBS SPIDER PUSSY ONE MORE TIME IM REMOVING MT EYES #EXCEPT THAT WONT WORK BECAUSE THIS IS PLAYING IN MY BRAIB #SO ILL NEED A LOBOTOMY BUT I DOUHT THAT WILL WORK EITHER #MOYHERFUCKING CUNTBUGGERING HORSEDILDOSUCKING COCKWAFFLE TWATBURGERS #TOLK Man talks #I hate myself #shelob x talion #shelob #talion #shadow of war #I DONT EVEN WANT TO TRY AND GO TO SLEEP #WHY BECAUSE WHEN I CLOSE MY EYES ALL IM GONNA SEE IS TALION FUCKING A GIANT SPIDER #GOOD MORNING HAVE SOME SPIDER FUCKERY #or I mean afternoon or evening or night or whatever it is for you #regardless HAVE SOME HUMAN ON SPIDER SEX GOOD LUCK ENJOYING THE REST OF YOUR LIFE

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transmascnaotoshirogane · 2 years

Text

over and over

lord forgive me, hi yall ready to hate me?

Relationships: The chain being a family sorta

cw (important): This fic has a whole lotta death!! Including descriptions of Legend being said-killed. there is also suffocation. please dont read if that's upsetting for you temporary character death, major character death

ao3 link; x

Legend remembers his first death. He had been in the palace of the four sword, and the crimson shade had struck him down where he stood. Legend had been unprepared. Legend had been foolish. He was too confident, too full of himself. And the next time he went in, he won the fight. His second death was less of a loss in battle, and more of a slip-up. He had been in the colour dungeon, and had stepped on a red tile. He fell. He fell into the abyss below, and he isn’t sure how long he fell. He fell to his death—no, his second death. He can’t remember all of them. He can remember the ones that made pure, unfiltered fear run through him. His third was violent. His third had been in the castle of his kingdom. He was bludgeoned with a spiked ball and chain. All he saw for the split seconds before? Red. The red of the castle’s carpet, the golden blood the hero possessed mixing into the carpet and blurring with the golden embroidery. His fourth, he had been suffocated. His fifth, he had fallen off a cliff. And his memories end there. He knows he’s died at least 100 times in total. He stopped documenting them. …he has them all written down in a notebook, one he carries at all times, but he hasn’t looked at it in a while. He doesn’t want to. He hasn’t died around the chain. Not yet. It’s inevitable, of course. He can come back from death—but he cannot avoid it. Laying on his bedroll, Legend thought about looking at his death records. Just a quick look.. So, he did. He sat there for what felt like hours, reading his list of deaths. A shadow in a crimson tunic stuck it’s sword in his chest, and three other shadows—in blue, green, and purple tunics—had given Legend a disapproving look as he bled out. The red, green and yellow tiles of the room had looked like nothing, just a design choice, before he stepped on the red one and fell down into the pit. That knight had once obeyed him, he had once considered him a friend, and yet he used his weapon—a weapon Legend had chosen for him—to repeatedly shove Legend into the ground, blood splattering and bones cracking. Ravio’s bracelet was a blessing, but it had dangerous effects. Legend got stuck in that damned wall by that damned bracelet, and he ran out of oxygen quickly. Nobody saw his struggle, and he couldn’t leave the wall. He died on that wall, stuck as a shitty chalk drawing. Working with himself was a challenge, even worse when you have to stack onto each other to make it through. Balance was lost, and all three parts of Legend had plummeted to their demise. First death as a trio, fifth death altogether. Of course, there are more insignificant deaths among the groups. In the same adventure as the colour dungeon, Legend had made himself a human shield to protect Marin from a boarblin’s spear. It went straight through him, like a knife through butter. She had screamed—hylia, did she scream. It was loud enough to even startle the boarblin—and, with all her strength, carried his half-dead-half-alive body back to mabe village. He had died in her arms. …that one was nice, because he wasn’t alone. Still, he never got to apologise to her for letting her see that. He died helping Fable escape the first time, too. Sewer rats—deadly little things—gnawed at him until his body gave out, and then they gnawed some more. There’s a reason Legend doesn’t discuss the missing portion of his ear. He died from frostbite the first time he was in Holodrom, and had used the rod of seasons to make it winter. How careless. He’s drowned multiple times, he stopped documenting them separately. He’s had his skull broken in half, he’s had his lungs punctured by broken ribs, he’s had blood pouring out of every possible place of his body, he’s been blown to bits— Legend yawned, resting his eyes for a second, the book laying open in his lap. Thinking about his deaths has exhausted him.. “Why do you keep bringing me back?”He had asked. Nobody had answered him. When Legend’s eyes opened again, it was morning. It was morning, and a quick glance around made him stop. Wind is holding his death record. … Wind is holding

his death record. And the chain are watching the sailor speak, eyes widened in fear and curiosity. Legend quietly got up, walking over to the group. “Why do you have that?”Legend questioned, and they jumped, turning to look at the veteran. “Why didn’t you tell us you’ve died?”Four retaliated, concern filling his red eyes. “It…It wasn’t important.” “Yes it was—it is!”Wind cried, a look of distress on his face. “You’ve died—” “And came back every time.”Legend cut the sailor off bluntly. “It’s not something that needs to be shared…and none of them are that bad—” “Death 36.”Four began reading. “Cause; another bludgeoning. This time I saw my own blood staining my clothes, face and skin. Felt it matting my hair together. Kinda gross, really. My skull was split in two, Zel says, she thought I was gone for good. It was done by another guard—why do so many of our guards have spiked ball-and-chains, anyways?”He ended, looking at Legend. “Yeah. ‘Not that bad’ my ass.” Legend let out a defeated noise. …some of them are awful. “I didn’t intend for any of you to find out.” “Why not?” “I didn’t want to worry anyone—” “And what if it happened around us?”Hyrule cut in, voice louder than normal. “What if—what if we thought you were gone and had to leave you?” “That…was never going to happen.” “How are you so sure?” Legend went quiet for a few minutes, before sighing. “The reason I always discourage you and Wild from dragging us off trail is because I don’t want to end up dead. None of you need to see that. None of you should have to see that.” There was a long silence. It was almost unbearable, until Four spoke again. “What’s it like after death?” “Dark.”Legend stated almost as soon as Four finished his question. “It’s so dark.” He isn’t sure when, but Sky and Warriors had guided him to sit with them on the grass. “There’s nothing there. Not for me, anyways. I think it’s different for everyone. I hope it is.”Legend sighed, fiddling with his rings. “I won’t lie—it’s terrifying.” “...if…if you don’t mind—when was your first? How old?”Wild looked right at Legend, eyes filled with concern. “Nine. I was nine. It was my fault—I was too confident in myself.” “What did you mean by four shadows in red, blue, green and purple..?”Four suddenly asked, eyes burning red and mixed with concern and..fear? “Um. On my first adventure, there was a place called the Palace of the Four Sword. I had to fight four identical shadows—all colour coded. I took out the blue and green one’s first—they weren’t as quick as me, even though they were smaller—and thought I’d take the red one out before even looking at the purple one. Didn’t take a genius to figure out purple had magic. But the red one caught me off guard.”Legend trailed off, giving Four a confused look. Four looks ready to start bawling. Without another word, Four tackled Legend into a hug. It very quickly progressed into a group hug, Legend stuck in the middle with Wind, Hyrule and Four latched onto him. Legend sighed, relaxing slightly. “Why do you keep bringing me back?”He repeated desperately. … Still, nobody answered.

#four writes #fours linked universe tag #linked universe #lu #lu legend #linked universe legend #hylias son #major character death #temporary character death #bludgeoning #suffocation #a whole lot of death #sorry #lu fic #linked universe fic #lu legend angst #*posts this and runs*

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yesimwriting · 3 years

Note

"(AH–i want to write a whole fic based on this line)" PLEASE DO??? omg i don't even have a breeding/possessiveness kink but i've been so hooked with that part, your mind>>>

a/n hehhe she's back from the dead (or is she?? lmao may disappear again right after posting? who knows, i def don't,, ive been writing i promise! i just get in my head and feel like my writing is bad and just dont finish anything lmao...if yall could see my drafts,, very full

oh!! also this anon is referencing a headcanon about pregnant with the darkling's baby (this post ),, more specifically this ask is about this line: "'are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it."

also i feel the need to tell yall!! i dont have a breeding kink 👀or possessiveness kink--i mean who could--i--👀👀

anyways HAHA

Air as weighted as a bag of sand enters and exits my lungs with each of my uneven breaths. Relax...stress is the one thing everyone agrees I shouldn't experience. Not while I'm like this. At the reminder of why everything seems so precarious, my hand gravitates to the source of my complications. I rest my palm against my stomach, still unaccustomed to the hint of firmness that makes up the apex of my stomach. I'm not sure it'd be fair to call it a bump yet. It's just the slightest shift in my proportions, the prelude to an announcement that not even Genya could help me hide.

But for now, it's still relatively easy to keep what I now am private. Aleksander likes it that way, and I understand his reasons for keeping my pregnancy secret enough to be relatively indifferent to when the news comes out. Though on nights like these, I just want to rip off the corset Genya tightens around my torso each morning and tighten my loose dress. Let the entire world know that I'm pregnant--that I'm not without attachment.

Maybe that would be enough to prevent arguments like these. The silent types of fights seem to be the most brutal. The fights in which his mere presence is more violent than words ever could be. These fights have become rarer since I told him about my current condition, but there's one thing that no amount of understanding will ever rid him of. The type of jealousy born of a relationship meant to only exist behind closed door and in abandoned corridors.

"Darling." The quietness of his voice is severe enough to send a bolt of nerves straight through me. He'd never hurt me--with or without his child, I know that he'd never cause me physical harm. It's just his anger is so consuming, so unavoidable and draining. "Do not make this worse for yourself by attempting to delay the inevitable." He takes a step forward, allowing me to see his expression for the first time since he first wrapped long fingers around my forearm, pulling me away from someone who meant no harm. His expression is harsh, made of the shadows he controls. "You know what you did."

I swallow, letting my hand fall from my stomach. Different responses rise and die in the back of my throat. None of them seem like they'd diffuse the situation. I didn't do anything--that could either make him angrier at me or angrier at the poor guard that had been speaking to me. Nothing happened, is worse, and you're overreacting could be fatal. Besides...none of it feels as true as it should. Though everything I did was innocent in theory, I can't deny the fact that I had been irritated. I had...I'd felt forgotten, and with how busy Aleks has been, I couldn't think of a good way to do anything about it.

And then today, while I was feeling displaced and hormonal, and tired of being left behind...so I let myself entertain the idea of welcoming someone else's attention. It was nothing bad, no blatant flirting or forced laughter. Just the slight prolonging of a conversation. If the man escorting me had not noticed me trip...if he hadn't helped me regain my balance by placing a supportive hand on my waist, so close to Aleksander's child, I think I would have been able to ease him by being extra affectionate and feigning the need for a nap. If he had kept pushing, I would have made a joke about 'pregnancy brain' and then shifted the conversation to the discussion of our future. I'd have turned this into the conversation about baby names and how we'd turn the room that adjoined ours--the room that used be mine--into a nursery.

But I had stumbled in the garden, and one of the two guards required to walk with me when I want fresh air had saved from falling at the exact moment that Aleksander decided to look for me.

"I told you, I tripped and the guard did what you want them to do, he helped--"

"Do not speak of him." My mouth shuts, my lips pressing together into a cautious line. "Don't pretend that all you did was trip. I saw you two, you laughed with him." He crosses the distance he put between us, as in control as ever. A small part of me is shocked when the hand that comes to rest on my waist doesn't burn. "You let him touch you." Each syllable is punctuated, acidic. His fingers graze across the fabric of my dress before he spreads his palm across my stomach. "...You let him touch my child." All semblance of security evaporates from me for a brief moment, but dread does not take over. No, something sharp wedges itself between me and fear and it leaves my entire body hot. Hot in a way I haven't felt since the night I told him about what we created together. "Our child," he continues, moving his hand across the expanse of my stomach until he reaches its apex, "you'd think with a life we made growing inside you..." His other hand sneaks onto the small of my back, with the slightest bit of pressure, he pushes me forward, "You'd remember."

Swallowing back nerves, I force myself to not shrivel beneath his gaze. "Remember what?"

His hand trails up my back until he reaches my shoulder. I relax when he gives it a tentative squeeze, but then he allows his fingertips to trail across my collarbone and up my neck. A hint of warmth adds something behind his eyes, something secretly vulnerable. I exhale, relaxing into the path he's drawing across my skin as his thumb brushes my cheek. I exhale at the contact, a small part of me wondering what's eased him so. He's more nervous about his place in my life than I can understand; he's everything--powerful, attractive, caring in a silent way. And he's the one who keeps leaving earlier in the morning and disappearing until he comes back to me late at night.

I thought that the conversation we had after my pregnancy, the guarantee he gave me in a place by his side, we'd see each other more. But he's been so absent I can't help but feel that maybe he's starting to regret it. After all, he's talked so much of forever, of our family...and yet he brings up marriage only when it's convenient--

The firm squeeze against my jaw steals all of my thoughts. He tilts my head upwards, leaning so close to me that I can feel his breath on my against my skin. "You are mine in all ways."

Warmth spreads through me, more powerful than my nerves. And yet I can't loose myself in him the way my body yearns to. You are mine in all ways. His control is more absolute than anything. That's never bothered me before, never made me doubt...Why does it feel tainted now? Is it my hormones? Or--it's the way he's changed.

He notices, because he notices everything about me. "Something troubling you more than the trouble you're already in?"

The question isn't concern--it's an attempt to have all of my attention again. I tilt my head down as much as the grip on his hand will allow. "Yours in all ways, when you're not mine?" My voice comes out softer than I'd like, but at least the words are out. "I know what you're doing is important, but there's just so many people around you. All powerful and important and I..." My hand settles over my stomach, too aware of how permanent the situation I'm in us. "I'm just going to get bigger...and bigger...and more draining to be around, and you'll always have an excuse to disappear."

Aleksander frowns, face shifting from angry to something soft. It doesn't last. He lips tilt upwards, a malicious smile playing at his lips. "Dove, was this all a cry for attention?" An artificial sweetness poisons the air between us. He tilts my head upwards even more, forcing me to stare at him. "Foolish, foolish girl. You need me, don't you?" He pauses, looking at me like I'm something to be pitied. It might be the look behind his eyes or my tiredness, but I nod. "I stop doting on you for a moment so that I can prepare for our future--the future of our baby--and you manage to forget that you've captured every part of me--the good and the bad." Something in me eases at the reassurance. They're just words, and I know how little that means to him, but they help. "Trust me this once, and I will spend eternity proving you right for it."

I exhale, absorbing the tenderness he briefly offers. "I do." He's watching me carefully. "I will--I just think I'm hormonal, or something."

He hums once, pulling me even closer to him. "That's all you have to say?" Aleksander's breath is warm against already flushed skin. "You know I've been particularly patient given what you're doing for me, but you know what you did. You felt like i was losing my care for you, and so you decided to anger me--and now you'll have to deal with that." I feel myself frown. "Don't pout--you brought this onto yourself." He sighs. "Open." I know better than to push any further. My lips part on instinct. He maneuvers his hand so that he can press his thumb into my mouth. "Close." I shut my mouth, letting the tip of my tongue graze the pad of his finger. He pulls his hand away with no warning, letting a thin trail of saliva connecting his thumb and my bottom lip. "Good girl, I knew you still knew how to behave."

"I didn't--"

"Don't speak," he warns, voice dangerous again. "Are you already forgetting you're mine? that i own you, body and soul--is my child growing in you not enough of a reminder? because i'll give you another one if you need it."

I inhale sharply, nerves pulsing through me once again. My silence seems to appease him, because Aleksander closes the distance between us. The hunger in him is clear, the kiss consuming everything as he walks us back, forcing me against a wall. He pulls away much too soon and yet much too fast. I'm panting, my lips are swollen, and yet all I want is more. "Aleksander--"

"How naive could you be, thinking I'd want you less like this...my baby, our child in you?" I swallow, nerves pooling in my stomach. "How could you think I'd want you less when the evidence of the fact that I fucked a baby into you is impossible to hide? When it becomes impossible to deny that you are mine and I am yours?"

His hand tangles itself into the root of my hair, when he pulls on it I can't fight the noise that escapes me. His lips are against my jaw, moving down my neck at a pace that's unbearable. He continues like this until all of me is burning for him and I no longer have the energy to attempt to suppress the moans leaving my lips. Aleksander lifts his head, a hint of something genuine coloring his smile. His lips press against mine again. I loose myself in his lips, the feel of them, his warmth, the way he knows where to brush his tongue. His pace is agonizing. Something in me snaps, I reach forward in a lust-filled haze, pulling at his clothes.

"Aleksander."

His hand leaves my neck in favor of gripping my wrist. He then straightens entirely, moving me off of him with a graceful ease. "Oh, Dove, you didn't think I'd be able to give you what you want after the way you've behaved today."

No. No. He's not implying what I think he is, he couldn't be this cruel to me...this upset. "I'll never do it again." He tsks once, shaking his head at my desperation. "I'm sorry, I truly am...and I'd be happy to show you how apologetic--"

He cuts me off my squeezing the apple of my cheek. "As amusing and fulfilling as it would be to watch you try to seduce me, it'd do me no well to spoil you now, especially when I have a meeting."

"Please--"

He takes my hand, tenderly pressing his lips against the back of my palm, over and over again until I am lost to the sensation. My breath hitches. "Consider this the first part of your lesson on patience." A pathetic, practically teary moan escapes me. He flips my palm in his hands before taking my middle and index finger into his mouth. The sensation and the way he's looking at me is so erotic my head is left spinning. He pulls my fingers away from his parted lips slowly, letting his tongue slide the length of them. "And no touching yourself--I will be checking when I return."

He can't leave my like this. Desperate and needy and likely without release for hours. "Aleks, please--"

"The more you beg, the more I know you need this." The cold way he releases my arm leaves my eyes stinging. He turns as if nothing has happened, leaving before I can think of anything worth saying.

#aleksander morozova imagine #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader #the darkling x reader #shadow and bone show #the darkling #general kirigan x reader

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jangofctts · 3 years

Text

Thing for Trouble (boba fett x fem!reader x din djarin) (part one) (part two) (part three) (part four)

Rated: explicit 18+

word count: 7.6k

warnings: threesome, smut, thigh riding, oral female receiving, handjobs, unprotected sex (dont be a deadbeat, wrap that shCMEAT), light choking, throne fucking, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, creampies, pet names, sub? din? more likely than you think (also lmk if I missed any tags!)

a/n: yall im sorry this is such garbage but kjkwejh here we be. I hOPE YOU ENJOY THE CIRCUS. thank you to everyone who’s encouraged this so COME GET YALLS MANDO MEAT

There isn’t much when he it comes to Tatooine and fun things to do. There’s pod acing, drinking, Sabaac tourneys, more podracing, gambling and scavenging. Unless there’s a festival or some wild event, you’re stuck with boredom and whatever you can scrounge up for fun in the palace.

Now, don’t get it wrong—if you had it your way, you’d spend every waking hour trialing behind Boba, but you don’t want to smother. Fennec too—while you enjoy her company, you know that half of the reason she sticks around is Boba’s order for your protection. Kinda ruins the fun when you know she probably only tolerates you because she’s being paid to. Eh whatever—doesn’t stop you from tagging along on as she runs errands in town—besides, today you actually have a reason to be here instead of loitering like a lost puppy.

Fennec tells you to be safe and com her the second trouble rears its ugly head and disappears into the weapons shop—muttering about her prized rifle being jammed or something. You don’t know, all you hear is that you have the entire afternoon to yourself to hunt down your oh so elusive prize. Star cherries.

The markets are always vibrant. Jam packed with people from each and every corner of the galaxy, hundreds of booths and stalls selling their wares that varies from foods to jewelry to even bounty services. Tempting as is it is to peruse the sparkly rows of dainty necklaces and rings or inspect the vast array of beige ponchos and manilla undershirts—you have a purpose. A once a year chance you refuse to let go to waste.

The shabby booth is tucked near the end of the street, the mountain of the little red fruits looking comical compared to the withered old lady who sits beside them. She flashes you a gap-toothed smile, the crowfeet wrinkles surrounding her eyes scrunch with the movement. “Ah! I was wondering when you’d show, dear.”

“Hello, Mrs. Feraan,” you greet, bending at the was it to kiss her wrinkly cheek. The old vender was one of the first kind souls you met here when you arrived on Tatooine. In return for a couple compliments or an offer to be the lab rat to test her new recipes for pie or tarts, she hooks you up with the best of the cherries—handpicked with love. “How’s business today?”

She waves her hand in dismissal, her silver rings glinting in the sun. “Same as always, child.”

Eventually you work your way through the pleasantries and a couple, long winded tangents. The sort that only old people can flawlessly spin and keep you engaged. Trials and tribulations to earn your prize—you don’t mind sacrificing a couple hours.

Finally you’re allowed to walk away—cherries in hand and exceedingly eager for your sweet snack. Unfortunately, suffering through Mrs. Feraan’s old childhood laments is not the only bump in the road you have to face.

Granted, it is your fault—not looking where your feet are taking you—

Your temple crashes into something agonizingly hard. You swear you hear a quiet bonk when your skull collides with the mystery material and fucking hell—you probably have a concussion from the force of it.

Unbothered by your probable brain injury, you’re far more concerned with the cherries spilling onto the ground and so, as you flail and dramatically topple over—the brunt of your fall is cushioned by your shoulder. Something pops and yeah, ok, maybe you just tore a ligament but—kriffing worth it for the cherries you miraculously saved from their dusty graves.

Your temper flares as you spot the dirty brown boots pointed in your direction. Maneuvering yourself up so you don’t also get trampled by the crowd, you bare your teeth and put on your best impression of a terrifying force of nature despite the fact you’ve been knocked flat on your ass. “What the fuck—“

The words shrivel up and die upon your tongue as your eyes slide up the stranger’s legs, broad shoulders sporting the shiny armor that twinkles in the midday suns. They then settle on an all too familiar helmet. Well, sorta—you’re familiar with a certain red and green one, not the equivalent of a wearable disco ball.

You squint as the stranger’s head dips to look at you crumpled at his feet. You dust yourself off and point an accusing finger. “Fuck is your problem standing in the middle of the road?”

The stranger quirks their head. “You ran into me—maybe you should watch where you’re stepping.”

The raspy voice is a striking sound. Mellow and silky even as it passes through the vocoder and dresses it in static charm. Some of your anger melts away—maybe this is the friend Boba was talking about—it’d make sense. They’re wearing the same type of armor…

You shake your head and shove down your pride. You don’t think Boba would appreciate you chewing his ear off. “Sorry—you’re right.”

As you readjust your clothes and precious cherries you introduce yourself with a tiny smile. Yet just as you're about to ask him his name he interjects with a step forward. You flinch away but all he does is sweep back a strand of hair from your forehead, revealing a little nick in the skin. You hiss as his fingertips scrape against it--great, an actual head wound. “Are you alright?”

Maker—here you are, after yelling at him and he finds it in him to be compassionate. You wave away his concerns. “Y-yeah--peachy.”

He apologizes with a dip of his head and words soaked in regret and fuck--now you feel bad. You wrack through your brain and search for last ditch attempts to fix this little mishap and settle with a half baked idea. It’s dumb--but hey, if it works, it works.

“Seriously, it’s fine. But I mean, if you’re so worried, how about you walk me home and we call it even?” You propose, sticking out your hand to seal the deal. If your assumptions are right, he’d just be tailing you the whole way home anyway. “I’m headed towards the palace, so if it’s not too much out of your way then—“

He hesitates and interrupts by taking your hand. “Alright. Deal.”

You smile. “Lovely.”

On the return trip, Din is quiet—tells you his name and responds to your conversation fillers with interested hums—but other than that he remains on the silent end. Intriguing with a rounded softness unlike the armor he wears--a man of mystery much like a certain someone who awaits you back home. Well--Din is less grumpy--by a long shot...but still. It’s easy to spot some of their shared similarities.

-=-=-=-

Upon arriving at the castle you part ways with Din before he reaches the throne room--you’re not too excited about showing off your new battle scar yet and while it was an accident, making an entrance with Din will make it far too easy to link the injury with him. Besides, you don’t wanna risk scaring off your new friend if Boba decides to showcase that tightly sealed lid of anger and brutality.

Instead you take the long way around the palace. Soon, muffled voices carry through the long corridors, growing louder as you work your way back from the kitchens. You round the corner, catching glimpses of Boba and your new friend through the pillars that prop up the low ceiling. You don’t meant to spy, but you do so anyway, hesitant on interrupting.

That is...until Boba cocks his head to the side and settles his eyes onto the pillar you hide behind. “It seems we have a little shadow with us today.”

You suck in a breath as your heart skips in a thrumming pace. Boba addresses you by name and crooks his fingers in a lazy motion for you to step out into the light—revealing yourself to the small party of two. “Come here, little one.”

The low light catches off of Din’s helmet with a glittering sparkle when he swivels his head. The tiny, warped figure of yourself reflects in mirror-like pieces of smelted beskar as his shoulders pull tight with recognition. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the smile that threatens to crack across your face at bay. Boba is no fool—he excels in the subtleties of shifting eyes and clenched fists to hide anxiety or closely guarded information—sickeningly familiar with your own quirks and tells, but—

There’s no reason to reveal Din’s little secret—not yet. Boba called him a friend but you truly have no clue what the depths of that word entailed. Friend could mean anything from a casual acquaintance, to an old childhood bond, and or anything in between. You sigh and brush past him, mentally congratulating yourself for keeping a cool mask of indifference etched into your features. If Din wants to open that can of worms then so be it—you weren’t the one offering to walk random people home.

You step onto the dais and slide your free hand into Boba’s outstretched palm. The worn leather tickles up your forearm and locks over your elbow, silently demanding you to sit on his lap. There’s plenty of room to both sit on the throne but no—Boba prefers you tucked against the cool metal of his cuirass. You grunt as the bowl of star cherries you cradle dangerously dips when Boba adjusts your weight over his thighs.

His fingers pull back a strand of your hair, tucking it behind your ear and then spider along your jawline. The ends of his mouth quirk as Boba pinches your chin between his forefinger and thumb, capturing your undivided attention. “I don’t like it when you lurk in the shadows, little one. You’re allowed to listen.

You huff. “I know—but lurking is fun.”

Boba releases your chin with a scoff. “Foolish, girl.” You dip your chin with a sheepish grin as heat rushes to your cheeks. You briefly forget about the tiny nick adorning your right temple, the only thing you were trying to keep hidden—but Boba is all too quick to notice. “What is this?”

He pushes your hair out of the way of the cut, inspects it, then curls his fingers around your jaw to demand an answer. You refuse to let your eyes wander over to Din—what a dead giveaway that would be—and instead muster up enough courage to hold the weight of his stare.

“I tripped at the markets,” you say—not a complete lie. “It’s just a little scratch—no biggie.”

Boba squints in suspicion and grumbles a soft hm. You feel his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh—he won’t argue about it right now. Not a battle worth his while when you’re keen on keeping the full truth behind a wall of teeth and anxieties. Boba’s hand falls away, gestures to Din who still stands stiffer than a stature, then lays it over the golden armrest. “I’m sure you’ve noticed our guest—“

Din tips his head in acknowledgement.

“The rightful ruler of Mandalore,” Boba continues. “Din Djarin.”

Din Djarin…despite already knowing his name (or half of it, at least) you like the way it rolls off the tongue—like how it’s seemingly made to be repeated and carved into the walls of some ancient script. Your knowledge on all things Mandalorian is…limited to say the least but you know enough about the rumors.

“Isn’t Mandalore supposed to be haunted?” You don’t mean for your words to be a pointy jab to the ribs but regardless, it strikes a tender chord within the Mandalorian. You wince as Din shifts his weight and clenches his palm—a long story. “Sorry—I—I’m sure your home is lovely, all I know about it are dumb ghost stories about evil wizards and laser swords.”

The blood under your cheeks burn red hot. Great. Not only are you a complete bantha brain, you’ve also managed to sound like an impudent child. Boba soothes a thumb over your thigh as you curl into yourself—bastard. He thinks this is funny.

“It’s not my home,” Din responds, albeit tentatively. “Never been.”

Your brows furrow. Alrighty then.

Boba snorts and shakes his head. He mutters something in Mando’a and lazily waves his hand, dismissing the line of conversation entirely. It was turning into a dumpster fire anyway—

With a slow exhale, you remove yourself from the discussion and instead tuck your head under Boba’s chin. The beskar is cold against your cheek but it feels nice against the sweltering midday heat.

Their conversation fades in and out as you rest your head over Boba’s cuirass, listlessly picking through the bowl of fruit for the ripest ones. You sigh—the next cherry you bring up to your lips is intercepted as Boba’s hand clamps around your wrist and redirects it into his own mouth. You don’t find it in you to be grumpy about the stolen treat when Boba’s tongue slides over your sticky fingers. Still holding your wrist captive, he sucks the tip of your thumb into the warm heat of his mouth and curls his tongue around the digit. Your index finger is given the same treatment before your hand is returned. The beginnings of arousal spark to life below your belly, and fuck—that shouldn’t have been so…so…hot.

Din’s smoky baritone fades into background noise as the entirety of your attention zero’s in on Boba’s mouth. You purse your lips and suck in a shaky breath, then return your hand to the bowl to fish out another fruit. You don’t need any guidance this time around as you bring the cherry to his mouth—the crimson juice spilling down your palm and part of your arm as his teeth pierce the fragile skin. You breath hitches as Boba dips his head, catching the bead of liquid running down your arm with the tip of his tongue, then swiping s a slow trail up, and over the lines of your palm. He plants a careful kiss there, then breaks away.

Before you have the chance to reach for another one, Boba plucks a cherry from the bowl and rests it against the seam of your lisp, inviting you to partake in this little game he’s created. A wicked smirk curls over his mouth as you accept—the tart flavor of the fruit spilling over your tastebuds as you chew and swallow. A little wine escapes you as his leather-clad thumb rolls over your bottom lip, bushes past the barrier of your teeth and seats the digit into your mouth—all the way down to the third knuckle.

You hardly notice the moment Din’s voice tapers off into silence—much too enraptured with the taste of leather and the smooth feel of it over your tongue. You gag slightly when Boba’s thumb reaches the back of your throat, then retreats just as slow. The string of saliva that still connects the digit to your wet mouth, drips over your chin and part of your lip, eliciting a jagged, echoey breath that crackles through Din’s vocoder.

Boba grins—something that better belongs on a sneering jackal just about to pounce on unsuspecting prey with needle sharp talons, rather than his face. His eyes drift up to address his guest. “Do you see something you like, Mand’alor?”

Din’s head jerks, averting his gaze to anywhere but the throne. He murmurs a weak apology and shifts his weight to his other leg—acting as if he were to look at you a second time, it’d burn him to a crisp or force him to confront Boba Fett’s wrath. Obviously, neither thing would happen, but Din still remains unsure with his foothold in this situation.

“I see how you look at her,” Boba drawls—not an accusation, just a statement brought to light. Boba’s hand drops to your thigh, the warm weight of it resting just past your knee as Din swallows his nerves and returns his gaze. “It’s alright—a pretty little thing like her is bound to turn heads.”

A blush hotter than wildfire licks up your cheeks as Din nods in agreement. “She’s beautiful…you’re a lucky man.”

Boba’s grip on your thigh hoards you closer to his chest. He is and he’s fully aware of that fact, but there’s no need to admit such a thing when it’s so blatantly obvious. A lull in the conversation creates a palpable tension—nervous energy and a choice to let this is fade into nonexistence or…or breathe life into that flickering ember of unsaid desires.

Your heart leaps into your throat when Boba shatters the silence and addresses you. “You’re awfully quiet, princess…what do you think?”

He’s placing whatever this is into your hand and leaving you to call the shots. You’ve always been a troublemaker and there’s no will or way as to why you’d stop now. You look between your lover and Din as a smile curls over your face. “I think…if he’s so interested—why not give him a show? After all, he did bring me home—he deserves some reimbursement for the trouble.”

Boba’s shoulders jolt with a chuckle. “How chivalrous.” You shiver as he strokes the back of his finger down your cheek. “Fine, as you wish, little one—go play.”

Giddy excitement bubbles through your chest as Boba offers Din to take a seat on the edge of the dais. Din still has an option to escape, to slip through the cracks and pretend this never happened—but stars, you hope he stays. Din takes a step forward, then another—and another until he’s standing before the throne. He studies the raised edge and gingerly takes a seat.

You abandon your bowl of cherries onto the forearm of the throne and slip off Boba’s lap. You drift over to Din, his gloved fingers clenching and unclenching as they rest over his thigh plating. He’s purposefully avoiding your eye as you kneel beside him—still locked onto that niggling fear that this could be some sort of trick or test in resolve.

Smiling sweetly, you skate your hand over his knuckles—guiding his large palm to your waist and then under and up your loose shirt and bra. Din mutters a curse as you place his palm over your breast. “I’m glad you stayed.”

Pleased with his reaction, you peel off your shirt and bra, breath hitching as Din pinches your nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “Same—I think…”

With a bit more bravery backing his movements, Din pulls away briefly, shucks off his gloves and encompasses both your breasts. They’re warm and calloused, riddled with silvery scars that stand out against his brown skin, a storybook of past battles—won and lost—all equally important to the fibers of his being that stitch him together into a whole. His hand whispers down the length of your ribcage, no doubt feeling the thrum of your heart beating wildly against the cartilage and bone. It tickles over the swell of your hips then—

“You said you wanted to give him a show,” Boba drawls behind you, a sharp twinge of hostility lacing his words. “So enjoy the show, Mand’alor, ’nd keep your hands to yourself."

Din recoils at the verbal reprimand and drops his hands speedier than a flash of lightning. You frown and throw a glare over your shoulder. Bastard. Boba quirks a brow and runs his thumb over his lip, the edged sparkle in his dark eyes taunting you into challenging him. You huff and turn a cold shoulder.

“Sorry, Din,” you purr, scrounging up any and all back up plans to keep you both entertained. “Seems my king isn’t as generous I thought.”

Din withers a bit at the catty remark, keeping his lips sealed tight as Boba growls your name in warning. You don’t pay him any mind.

You puff up your cheeks and release the air in a steady stream, as your eyes scrape over Din’s armored thigh. Ok—you can work with that. It wouldn’t be breaking any rules…not technically. You step away, paw at your waistband and let the breezy fabric pool over around your ankles, your underwear quickly joining the pile.

Now bare, you return to Din’s side, his careful inhale distorted into choppy static as you straddle his thigh. He lifts both hands, intending to grab at your waist, but pauses midair. No touching. You lips tilt with a smirk as he clenches his fists and pins his hands to the cool stone instead, an attempt to curb that urge to reach for you. His shoulders knit together when you mold your hand in the gap between his shoulder pauldron and cuirass to give yourself some sort of balance—obviously not used to a soft touch.

You lower yourself and hiss through clenched teeth. It’s fucking freezing. Goosebumps rush up each limb as the wet warmth of your cunt meets the frigid beskar—the chill much colder than you initially expected. It’s one thing to touch the beskar with an open palm and another thing entirely to feel against such an intimate part of yourself. Din’s visor drops to look between your legs as you give your hips an experimental roll.

It’s different. You’re used to hardened muscle and fabric, or your own fingers while pleasuring yourself. Your breath hitches as Din’s thigh twitches, the smelted seam of the cuisse bumping against your throbbing clit.

“Sorry,” Din mumbles, “Didn’t mean—“

“It’s ok,” you smile, rocking your hips to ease into the sensation. “Just surprised me.”

The pace you set is slow, careful not to overwork your nerves as your arousal blooms and metastasizes like simmering coals low in your groin. With each lecherous pull of your cunt against his thigh, the beskar begins to warm to the temperature of your skin—the wetness between your thighs abating the friction and making the surface slippery. A low gasp escapes you once you find the right ridge and angle that just grinds perfectly against your aching clit. Your fingers dig into the cowl of Din’s cloak.

“Shit—feels good.” Like your voice and little moans jumpstart Din’s ability to move, his large hand drifts to the front of his trousers—an already sizable bulge tenting the dark brown fabric. You squeak as Din's leg jolts for a second time, a burst of dizzying ecstasy wracking up your spine with the choppy movement.

You suck in another raspy breath as your attention drops to his hand that cups his cock and palms himself through his trousers. You chew your bottom lip and clench your fist gripping his cowl, still gyrating your hips over the beska as Din hooks his thumb into his waistband and pulls them down, slow as molasses.

Fucking hell—he’s bigger than you initially imagined. Flushed a rosy brown, and half hard already, twitching as Din wraps his fingers around the thick length. Din lifts his head, gauging your interest or disapproval—but kriff—who the fuck would ever be unhappy with that sorta heat he’s packing? You bite your bottom lip, scouring your brain for ideas to convince Boba into letting you taste Din—but your plotting is abruptly cut short.

Boba sits up and off the throne, his presence looming over your shoulder as he lowers to one knee. You shiver and arch your neck, exposing more of your vulnerable throat as Boba runs the fingertip of his pointer finger down the side of your cheek. “Are you enjoying yourself, princess?”

You nod, eyes fluttering shut as Boba opens his palm and cradles your jaw. You groan and roll your head back onto your shoulders as Boba snakes one hand around your hip and jolts you forward and down—disrupting the slow rock with a catastrophic interference. Unrefined bolts of plasma shoot up your spine as desire licks up thighs—you need more.

Boba dips his head and nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You grunt when his teeth sink into your flesh, worrying a bruise into your skin. Boba laves his tongue over the throbbing area, then licks a wet trail up to the shell of your ear, all the while you continue to grind on Din’s thigh. Boba nibbles your earlobe and whispers your name—the sound sweeter than any symphony could ever hope to make. Like smoke over deep water or the surging crackle of energy just before a thunderstorm high up in the mountains.

“You’re allowed to touch…” he says with a rough chuckle. “Go on.”

Your noise of agreement is quickly muffled as Boba interrupts you with a feverish kiss—all open mouthed and breathless as his tongue curls around yours. Your chest heaves for precious air as Boba retreats just as abruptly as it began. With a satisfied smirk ghosting over his lips, he taps you below the chin and returns to his throne to continue observing.

Dropping your eyes between Din’s legs, his cock, hardened to its full glory and held casually in his calloused hand, is truly a sight. Your pulse thrums in your ears as Din rolls his wrist and pumps his length, the velvety skin shifting over what looks like fucking beskar underneath. It strains towards his navel as you watch with wide eyes, mesmerized with the way he touches himself.

Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you touch your hand to his wrist. Din shudders like your skin is made of sizzling embers that’s broken off the tail end of shooting star—like you’re something too luminous and dangerous to be handled by someone like him. You lift your gaze, smiling into that darkened void of the visor and gracing him with a toothy smile. “Will you let me touch you, Din?”

He nods and utters a breathy yes.

Fuck yeah.

Din sucks in a stuttered breath when your hand circles around his thick length. His hips jolt into your palm as you slide your fist to the base then all the way back up. Precum beads over the tip, dribbling down and coating your knuckles with sticky wetness. It eases some of that friction as you fall into an easy rhythm, matching your rocking hips with each pump of his cock.

Din’s stuttered moans fill the small space between you, dragging you closer to your release that’s suddenly so close. He whines as you abandon his length to chase after your high, your arousal leaking from your center and dripping down the sides of the beskar. Din takes his cock into his hands, fisting himself to your little show of breathy wines and rough jerking of your hips over his thigh.

Din says your name attached with a broken moan and it’s over—

Everything seizes up tighter than a jaw clamp as your tumble off that jagged peak of searing, white hot pleasure. It’s raw, sparking off like a blade to metal, burning you from the inside out as you cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing, your thighs shaking as you curl inward as if he punched you in the fucking gut. It feels like he did. Maker—the cool beskar against your throbbing clit is like you’ve been thrown to the mercies of an electrical surge.

It doesn’t help either that Din is still pumping his length, hips stuttering as he brings himself to his own euphoric high. The air in your lungs seizes when a fragile groan, light and airy passes through the vocoder. Din rocks his hips into his fist, once—twice and then he’s throbbing and cumming into his hand. Hot ropes of his release splatter up his chest plate and parts of your thighs, his helmet nearly knocking into you as he hunches foreword from the intensity of it.

Too exhausted to keep yourself upright, you smash your cheek against his cuirass, involuntarily twitching as the last little waves of pleasure prickle through the rest of your nerves. You whine as you watch Din move his hand to collect some of your wetness coating his thigh. He brings two fingers stained with your slick to the lip of his helmet, pushes it up with his thumb just far enough to sink the two digits into his mouth. He groans out a quiet fuck, and repeats the action, swiping his fingers through the mess you’ve made and feeding it to himself. Your cunt clenches as you catch a sliver of his pink tongue that twists between his thick fingers.

He groans and rolls his head back onto his shoulders. “Please—can I taste you? Fuck—I-I need my mouth on you.”

Stars—the mere idea of it stokes the dwindling flames into a blaze of want. You look up at Boba and puff out your bottom lip. Pouting and begging hardly ever gets you what you want under normal circumstances—Boba Fett is more stubborn than a rancor—but you hope just this once he’ll be lenient.

Boba holds out his gloved hand—summoning you to his lap without a lick of protest on your end. Din however makes a sound akin to a whimper when you leave him. Boba gathers you in his arms for the second time, the leather a strange sensation as it spiders down your ribcage and around your hips. You can feel his hardness poking into your backside once you settle against him—his chest plate a cold shock to your naked flesh. You shiver and bury your nose into the crook of his neck, poking your tongue out to taste him. Boba’s cock twitches under you as your teeth sink into him with a cheeky nip.

“Is that what you want, little one?” Boba rumbles in question. His right hand glides lower, grabbing a handful of your thigh and squeezing. You groan and keen out a whine of affirmation.

Boba cocks his head towards Din. “Well? You’ve got your wish—don’t keep her waiting.”

Din shakily stands—hesitating with removing his helmet for enough time that you notice the silence that follows. The vocoder crackles as Din sighs. “Do you trust her?”

“With my life.” Boba states it without a second thought. Your heart twists, golden light spilling from your lungs and staining your insides with devotion and fuzzy affection. You press a soft kiss over Boba’s jaw.

“Is she…” Din speaks a word in Mando’a you have no hope to decipher—either no direct translation or he’s purposefully left you in the dark.

Based on the way Boba almost imperceptibly tenses, you guess the latter. Boba responds with a grunt and an unsure dip of the chin. The answer is complicated—that much you can gather…you push it to the back of you brain for now.

Din nods, inhales, and steels his nerves. Plastering his hands around the shiny helmet, he tugs it off with a slow reveal of dark, patchy facial, plush lips and wavy brown hair that falls around his olive skin. And oh, his eyes—soft chestnut brown eyes that hold such ache within them—lost things, broken bones, wearing his wounds like decoration upon his chest. Forged in the flames of war, risen from the ashes with murder and mercy rolled into one.

You wish him a kinder future. One that doesn’t end with pain and a blaze of an unchecked wildfire—the same way how all heroes end up as martyrs.

Though—right now—you can be the beginning of softer things for Din. You smile and invite him closer, a vortex of anxiety peppered with arousal as his eyes flit over your naked body. He sets his helmet to the side with care and drifts to the foot of the throne—fuck, he’s broad. Why hadn’t you noticed that before?

Your mental berating is severed when cool air meets the wet heat of your cunt as Boba hooks your thighs over his knees, spreading you wide as far as your hips allow. Din’s unfiltered moan at the sigh of you, sends a volt of electricity through every vein. Din lowers himself to one knee, and then the other, shuffling between yours and Boba’s legs.

“Can I touch?” He asks, soft brows raising in question.

Boba lazily raises two fingers in a motion of permission. Your chest tightens at the sight of Din’s boyish grin—warm palms settling over the sharp bend of your knees. His thumbs trace soothing circles over the skin and right as Din decides to swoop down, Boba catches him by the hair atop his head and yanks. Din grunts—the long, arched line of his neck a tempting sight as he swallows. “No marks.” Din’s jaw clenches, but nonetheless, he agrees to Boba’s command.

Boba hums in satisfaction and untangles his fingers from the mess of Din’s soft curls. Din’s brows pinch together for half a tick but smooth out in the next breath. No use being irritated—especially right now.

As directed, Din leaves not a scratch. Instead he scrapes the blunt edges of his teeth along the insides of your thighs, threatening to catch soft flesh between them—but he knows better than to act on the urge. He laves his warm tongue over each freckle or blemish he finds, leaving no patch of skin undiscovered as licks a steady trail to his prize. Din mouths a warm kiss over the crease of your thigh, and smooths his calloused hands over your hips, settling for a moment to trace little circles with his thumbs onto the soft protrusion of bone there. Seemingly satisfied, he then shifts them closer to your aching cunt. His hot breath fans over your cunt as he uses his thumbs to glide through your folds, almost curious with his exploration. He makes a little hum of appreciation low in his throat when the pads of his thumbs part your soaking folds.

You whimper and bury your face into the crook of Boba’s neck, his warm palms a much needed comfort as they tickle down your ribcage, then sweep back up to cup your tits. You cry and arch— Din’s tongue is scalding—like liquid velvet as he dips the tip of his tongue from the base of your cunt all the way up to your clit. Din sucks on the little bundle of nerves, rolling his tongue until you’re crying out, molten pleasure zipping through your abdomen. He grunts as your fingers tangle into his hair—kriff.

Fuck, you need more.

Arching into his mouth, all thoughts are transfigured and molded into a vicious loop—beginning with those adoring brown eyes, the color of freshly tilled earth and the warmth of sunlight over dappled aspen leaves in the balmy summer afternoons. It ends with soft lips—rose petal pink with devotion crystallizing in his mouth like sugar—madness and uncertainty and lovesick desire is all that he is and you’re not sure if you’ll come out of this unscathed.

He sinks two deliciously thick fingers into your clenching hole and curls them, only to retract them a moment later to shovel more of your wetness onto his tongue—as if simply using his mouth wasn’t enough for him. Like he needs to savor every drop of your arousal like the golden ambrosia the gods feast upon in their palaces of cloud and endless twilight.

That frenzied desperation lingers on the edges of his movements like he’s afraid you’ll fade away like a hand through fog—but you’re going nowhere. You’d stay here, suspended in time forever if the choice were up to you.

You whine and arch off Boba’s chest plate as Din strokes and curls his fingertips, plucking little gasps and moans from you easier than breathing. He zeros in on that little spot that makes your leg go all jittery and forces out high pitched mewls that echo through the throne room. You’re careening towards another high, the sensitivity of your last orgasm amping up the influx of pleasure.

“Stars—Din. Close—I’m so close,” you gasp, pulling his hair tight enough that you know it must sting—at least a little bit. He makes no sign that it does, just groans and buries his tongue into your dripping hole, licking alongside his fingers that shovel more of your wetness into his mouth.

Your release zips through your body like a flash flood—quick and fatal that leaves you gasping for air and struggling not to let your head dip below the waves. Your high seeps into each limb until they feel heavier than lead. Fuck—it’s so hard to work through the muddled thought and remember where exactly you are. You groan and toss your head back as Din keeps going.

“Another one—let me—“ He moans, opening his mouth as wide as it’ll go so he can devour more of you. You can feel the mixture of saliva and your own arousal dripping down your cunt and over your thighs, some of it pooling on the throne or onto the floor. Your thighs shake as Din pushes you towards another high.

You squeak as Boba’s palm sweeps up your sternum, locking his fingers around your throat in a loose hold. The tip of his nose nuzzles into your cheek—silently demanding a well earned kiss as his hips rock into your ass, grinding his cock for the barest scrap of friction. You moan into his mouth as Din doubles his efforts, raw and bordering that serrated edge of overstimulation and ecstasy.

Goosebumps rush over your arm as Boba places his lips right beside the shell of your ear. You feel the sticky heat of his breath fan over your throat and shoulder, and the way his lips skim your ear when they move to form the syllables of his words. “Such a filthy princess…”

You clench around Din’s fingers and moan a half garbled, “Boba—“

His weathered palm encompasses the entirety of your breast, rolling your pebbled nipple between his forefinger and thumb. “If only you could see yourself…dripping all over my throne and another man’s tongue.” Boba clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Depraved creature—cum for your rightful king.”

Wildfire chars your insides as it begins in your core and sweeps through your body. Tears prick the corner of your eyes as you buck and squirm in their arms—no mercy as the prickly waves of your orgasm make you hypersensitive to each touch. Even the hold on your hip, while innocent in nature, is blistering as if you suffered from a fever. You shudder as a salty tear rolls down your cheek. Boba catches it with his tongue as your ears pick up Din’s raspy praise—thanking you while spattering reverent kisses up your thighs.

Struggling to keep your eyes open, you do spot the apparent wetness soaking through the front of Din’s trousers. Fuck—he—he came again while eating you out. You whimper and rest the back of your head over Boba’s shoulder.

Your belly flinches under his scratchy facial hair as Din travels up, seizing and worshiping every inch he’s freely given before intercepted. He catches your nipple between your teeth, tugs a bit then moves to the other, lavishing equal attention with adoring lips and sweet whispers. When he reaches your collarbone, you’re boxed in against his chest plate and Boba’s. A blush blooms under your cheeks hotter than stare fire as Din gingerly sucks your earlobe into his mouth and breathes out a muted moan of your name—committing the very essence of you to his memory for the rest of his days.

Your heart squeezes tight like a clenched fist when he mumbles another thank you. Plucking up a smidge of courage, he risks planting a kiss right on the corner of your mouth. You blink—despite the sweetness of the gesture you wince as Boba snarls a curt phrase in Mando’a. Din peels himself away with a minuscule frown and slinks away.

Yet before you have the chance to remedy the situation of wounded pride and territorial jealousy—Boba tightens his hold on your hips and flips you both, so that now your back is smashed against the seat of the throne, a bit crumpled and sorta folded in half. Your hips hang off the edge as Boba holds the majority of your weight, grinding his clothed cock between the apex of your thighs.

“Don’t forget, princess—” Boba barks, slithering a hand up the column of your throat. You breath hitches as he lightly presses his palm down. “—what belongs to me.”

Reaching between you, he slides his gloved fingers through your slick folds and sinks two of them inside of your clenching center. You jolt as his thumb scrubs over your clit, still sensitive and edging towards too much.

“You want me to fuck you here?” He asks, shifting his hold to grip your jaw instead—the rounds of his fingertips digging firmly into the flesh and bone. “Say it.”

You gasp and scrabble weakly at Boba’s shoulders as he grinds the heel of his palm into your clit. “Please, Boba! Please fuck me—I need it.”

Boba folds over you, his breath fanning hot and hungry against your cheek. He devours your mouth with a discordant edge, like he’s trying to prove to the entire galaxy you are unmistakably his despite the fact you’re already wound so tightly around his fingers. Boba wrenches himself free and tears at his robe and trousers to free his thick length, leaking and flushed a rosy brown at the tip. He doesn’t keep either of you waiting as he removes his fingers and replaces them with something bigger.

You both groan as he lines himself up with your entrance and sinks into you, a delicious stretch that leaves you shivering beneath him. “Fuck—so wet for me.”

The first roll of his hips makes an obscene noise that showers shame down your throat, but it’s quickly kicked to the back of your brain as he slams back into your cunt—obliterating all thoughts save for him. Boba’s lip curls over his teeth as he claws at your thighs and yanks them over his shoulder, crushing you even further between the throne and the weight of his body. Each stroke is a liquid fire, tearing you apart at the seems while at the same time stitching you back together and leaving your body begging for more. Like this, it’s as if he’s reaching the deepest part of you, pounding into your cunt and hitting every nerve with deadly precision. Your legs prickle with the stretch as you squirm beneath him, stuck with the brunt of rough thrusts and violent stamina with nowhere to go.

“Bein’ such a good girl for me." He hums into the juncture of where your neck meets your shoulders. He sucks a mark there and tangles a hand in the hair at the nape of you neck, forcing you into a steeper arch. “Maker, you look so fuckin’ pretty stretched around my cock.”

Your walls clench tight around him as you dig your nails into the fabric of his cowl. You voice cracks with airy moans—attempting to work through the haze of lust and respond. All that tumbles from your lips is a pathetic whine of his name—so close to that precipice again.

The friction of each thrust scraping against your clit, the way he fills you and the possessive hand curled over your throat. You wiggle an arm between your bodies and rub the little bundle of nerves in a frenzied half-circle. You wheeze as Boba increases the pressure over your throat.

“Tell me who you belong to,” he demands as devastating ripples begin to spark through your core, a live wire an inch away from a puddle of water. “Tell me—“

“You! It’s you—“ You sob, desperate for another release only he can give. “I’m yours—“

Boba snickers and gives your throat another squeeze. “Cum on my cock.”

There we go.

You seize and cry out, violent shivers forcing your back to arch high off the throne and into his chest plate. It tears through your being, quick and deadly through your core, spreading to every nerve and shredding through it with molten pleasure. Boba’s voice is a gravelly scrape that vibrates next to your ear, sprinting towards his own deserved euphoria. Your climax still boiling through your blood, is dragged out as Boba continues thrusting—an endless echo that leaves you incredibly oversensitive sore. For the next few moments, his thrusts are too sharp, the grip he has on you too abrasive—but then he’s cumming too. A couple more rough jabs and then he’s seating himself deep inside your cunt, his warm release coating your insides with thick ropes.

You’re panting breaths fill the air between you, settling like fresh snow over a silent wood. By the time Boba pulls out, leaving behind a sticky trail of his cum and your arousal over the throne, you’re toeing the line of hazy unconsciousness.

“Such a good girl,” Boba praises, threading fingers through hair and tracing the lines of your face. The the soft drone of his voice mixed with Din’s gentle baritone, murmuring something you don’t catch, casts a dreamy haze over your reality. You’re not afraid that this could back fire and blow up in your face—to move inches from two serrated blades, each seeking for a taste of blood and flesh, is always a risk. But yet, the calloused hands and the sweetness of brown eyes reach through chaos and silence to offer you salvation. You take it with a smile.

You should invite Din over more often…you think, as you slip into content sleep.

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haikyuuu-r-us · 4 years

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{Unofficial Game} [Alpha Ushijima Wakatoshi x Omega reader] (2)

PART TWO SINCE IT WAS SO HIGHLY REQUESTED! Seriously thank yall so much i really enjoyed writing this! ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

PT1: https://haikyuuu-r-us.tumblr.com/post/625077449031548928/erm-okay-so-i-dont-usually-do-asks-fr-like-that

don’t look too closely or you’ll see spots where my adhd brain went apeshit and went off-topic lol

Tag list: @sawamooora

IDK if this is the last part so let me know if you wanna be on the tag list if i add more. It’ll probably be a bunch of cute oneshots after awhile but under the same name.

OKAY SO I GOT A liiiittle carried away (ง ื▿ ื)ว :☆*:･

enjoy!

Ushijima Wakatoshi was a very intimidating alpha.

He wasn't the type to purposefully threaten people, though sometimes, particularly when he felt as though other alphas had ill-will towards him, he'd stand taller, breathe slower, and leave his inner alpha to do the rest.

He had no need to be overly aggressive. He knew his place and believed others should know theirs and stick to it.

Unfortunately, many didn't. Most omegas now were snappy and rude. They believed that they didn't need an alpha, or at the very least didn't want one. Many others would use their omega charms to manipulate an alpha to do what they desired. Very few omegas, like you, are content with the role you presented, and you seemed perfectly fine listening and obeying the alphas around you.

This was where his irritation stemmed from. You were all too willing to keel over for any alpha should they ask something of you. Tendou was a good example of this. He deemed you his girl best friend, and both of you often did things for the other. However, Tendou was an alpha, and sometimes he'd unknowingly put you into an "uncomfortable spot" so to speak.

Of course, you would continue on with what he asked of you, even though the first year alphas seemed to leer at you, even though the coach wasn't too happy about your presence during practice, and even though you knew you weren't entirely welcome. Because he was an alpha, and he was above you in the hierarchy.

It wasn't only Tendou though. He supposed that at least then it wouldn’t be as bad and he most certainly didn't mind your presence, his alpha just wanted to pin you down somewhere and demand you bare your throat to him. He rather enjoyed having your eyes on them while they practiced. He wasn't one to flaunt, he knew he was the strongest on the team.

Everyone knew he was the strongest.

Sometimes though, when he'd slam the volleyball down particularly hard, or when they played against one another, he'd feel an unstoppable desire to unleash all his strength. He knew you were there. He could feel your eyes on him. He didn't need to look at you to get the message across, it was in the air, he knew that you realized what he was doing, after all, you should.

I’m the strongest.

He knew because occasionally, he'd hear a soft shaky inhale. Even if he was in the middle of a spike, he could sense your attention when it shifted onto him and he'd take full advantage of that moment to use his full strength to complete what he was doing, even if it was completely unnecessary. The first year didn't stand a chance, the blonde one that refused to leave you alone after practice. He didn't like his playstyle or his scent.

The blonde tripped over his own feet and ended up landing on his side. For a moment he stayed there but when he started to shift to get up, a growl froze him in his place. On the other side of the net, knees slowly lifting himself up, Wakatoshi Ushijima stood at full height.

He was terrifying.

His upper lip twitched and the dark shadow that had covered his eyes left when he shifted his head to stare down the arrogant first year. The pup had asked for the one on one, and though at first, he told the brat 'no', he kept insisting until Ushijima finally agreed.

There was no reason for the first year to be treated as though he was a serious opponent. There was no reason to play so roughly and with so much strength. There was no reason to snarl at the younger alpha male when he tried to get up, and there was certainly no reason for Ushijima to pin the boy down with a purposefully intimidating stare.

He heard Semi and Goshiki calling at him and asking what the hell was going on, but he didn't break the glare. Defiantly, the younger alpha stood, and even managed to scrape together enough confidence to smirk at the much more superior alpha in front of him.

Just a pup. Didn't know his place in the pack yet.

They weren't really a pack. Sure, they had a leading alpha and other alphas and betas. However, a pack wasn't truly a pack without an omega.

This alpha, however... He was challenging Wakatoshi, not only in front of the team but in front of you. Ushijima felt his inner alpha rattling the bars that kept him restrained. He didn't need to prove himself to this pup. In fact, the pup wasn't the one he desired to prove himself to at all.

The alpha pup grunted and winced when he tried to grab the volleyball that was gradually rolling his way. "Shit." The blonde clutched at his side as the others made their way onto the court.

"You okay man?"

"Shit dude, you hit the ground pretty hard there."

"Stretch your arms above your head, does it hurt?"

Tendou rested a hand on Ushiwaka's shoulder, his appearance amused. Ushijima only watched the blonde as he exaggerated his injury.

"You went too hard on him Ushijima-san. He's a pup, you don't need to prove yourself to keep your rank." Semi sighed out and his eyes moved to the captain, eyeing his expressions and odd behavior.

"Liiiiiisten, listen to me Ushiwaka-kun." Tendou commenced with a serious look. "I wanna kick his ass as much as you do, but getting violent with pups prooooobably is not the best way to get Omega-chan's attention." He whispered the last part with a mischievous grin and pointed towards you whilst wagging his finger.

Turning his head he met Tendou's gaze with a glare that told the other alpha that it probably wasn't the best idea to bring you into this. "He challenged me." Semi sighed and stood on the other side of their captain. "That may be true, but there's no need to accept it. He's a cocky first year, he'll learn his place eventually- Ah, Captain?" Semi's brow quirked upwards when a menacing aura developed around their leader.

His eyes were bearing holes into the alpha pup who sat beside you on the bench. The pup was too close. He was trying to get your attention but your eyes were glued to your sketchbook, only glancing up when he snatched it away from you. His ears picked up the alpha tone in his voice, something completely unnecessary for just asking you to grab some water for him.

Ushijima's eyes narrowed as you shifted away from the overconfident pup to grab a bottle from the cooler to hand over to him. His fingers curled into a tight fist when the pup pressed a finger onto your cheek and muttered something that turned your cheeks bright red. You glanced around nervously, clearly flustered and looking for a distraction, only for your gaze to land on him. Immediately your expression flushed further, however you gave him a shaky embarrassed grin and a small wave to accompany it.

Semis eyes shifted from the scene on the bench over to his captain. Typically Ushijima would've been entirely unaware of that sort of thing. He could be rather dense with social cues, but the fact he recognized that you were bothered and uncomfortable spoke volumes. How long had he been guarding you like that? Semi could only wonder.

"Tch." His alpha was only seeing the way that damn pup dragged your attention away from him. Pouting and asking what you were working on that was oh so important. Your scent was shifting, you were nervous.

Ushijima didn't get into fights. Not even when outrightly challenged. He'd never really had the desire to.

However.

Recently his alpha was calling more shots than he was. Taking initiative and becoming snappy. He felt off and though he knew why he couldn't quite fix it yet. Soon he would, but he wanted to focus on the upcoming practice match with Seirin, an upstart volleyball team that shot through the ranks out of nowhere. He needed to get that match through first. He couldn't afford any distractions.

He usually was cool-headed when it came to other things. He knew exactly what he was doing. There was no need to constantly prove that he was the strongest.

No. Omega isn't happy. Need to defend. Need to FIGHT.

A low rumble tore through his throat.

He didn't have time to torment someone - he needed to train. He shouldn't need to protect his own omega from his pack.

She's mine. Go away. Stupid pup.

"Yo, Ushiwaka-" Tendou began.

"What." He grunted, refusing to look away, keeping an eye on the handsy alpha male.

"How close are you to your ruuuuut? Cuz you look like you're about to skin the pup ALIIIIVEE!" Tendou ended the question in a giggle when Ushiwaka's glare increased on the alpha.

Rut. That's it. That's why he'd been so touchy about the other alphas being near you.

His gaze flipped over to you, and how you were looking more and more uncomfortable with the entire situation. The alpha’s hand relaxed on your thigh while he bent over your shoulder to watch you draw. He examined your uncomfortable expression and the way you attempted to subtly shift away.

Stop touching her.

He finally spun away, death gripping the volleyball Tendou hurled to him. Despite the alpha’s efforts at distraction, he still smelt your high-strung and apprehensiveness. He could tell him to leave you alone, but he didn't want to embarrass you. He had shooed that particular alpha away from you before once, and when the others stared your eyes watered, and Tendou was the one who guided you away.

Tendou later explained in their dorm room that you preferred to deal with your problems out of the public eye. He still didn't fully understand, but he most certainly didn't want to hurt you further, his alpha knew that much.

The match was tonight. He could release his frustrations then.

That was his plan. Bottle, unleash.

It was supposed to be, at least, until he heard a distinctive whine and the sound of your sketchbook and pencil cracking against the polished floors. His head then turned towards you, and there was no way in hell, that pup would have survived had he not had absolute control over his inner alpha, as well as Tendou resting a hand on his shoulder; not holding him back necessarily, just… confirming.

The blonde must've discerned your plan to dart away from him, and when he had moved behind you to watch you draw, he'd taken advantage of the position and now had both hands on you. One on each thigh, squeezing hard. They dug into your leggings and he could see the soft fat of your thighs give way under his firm grasp. His face was inches away from your neck, and he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. You tried to wriggle away, with a whimper and a shake of your head. Ushijima couldn't hear what he said next but your response was what caused both of his team-mates to let him help you.

Your gaze locked onto his own and your eyes, wide and far past uncomfortable, were brimming with tears.

Annihilate him.

He took measured steps, holding your gaze the entire time. Ignoring the warning growl of the Alpha behind you. Slowly, so as to not cause a larger scene for your sake, he kneeled in front of you, reached forward, and seized hold of both of the male’s hands. Forcefully he removed them from your thighs, and without relinquishing his hold, he maneuvered around the bench and closer to the struggling pup. He lifted him up by his wrists and simply let him dangle there for a few moments.

With every second the smaller alpha began to shake and eventually try to apologize. With every word, he tightened his hold.

"He's not the one you should be apologizing to."

Tendou. It didn't sound like he was very happy. His alpha tone and scent were intense, causing you and even a few of the other first-years to tense.

"Shit-ow! Shi- I'm sorry! ACH IM SORRY OKAY!"

Tendou’s eyes narrowed before his demeanor radically changed and he beamed ear to ear. "Okie Dokie then!"

"You should let him go now, captain. I believe he's learned his place." Semi observed.

Ushijima Wakatoshi saw no need to romance an omega. If she was his he'd protect her, and she would learn she was his. There was no need for elaborate gifts and dramatic proclamations of love. However, he wasn't the type to seek out trouble to prove his strength. He wasn't the type to 'hit first and hit hard'.

He was an Alpha that simply knew his role in the pack.

Out. He's out. Not part of my pack. Out. Get out.

He could crack the pup’s wrists to prevent him from competing in volleyball again, and the thought remained too long to completely sweep aside. Outside of school, the move the pup pulled would have gotten him killed. Snapping his wrists would be compassionate.

Instead, he dropped the child to the ground. Clenching his hand instead of kicking him in the stomach.

"Go to Coach Washijō and tell him you're quitting." Your eyes widened at the demand, and the pup didn't waste a moment before lurching to the exit and using the door frame as a support to push him on his way. Scowls were thrown at him by both first and second years as he hurried out the door.

Tendou rested a hand on your head and ruffled your hair in a comforting manner. "You okay? Lil marshmallooooow??" Completely humiliated you smacked his hands away and stood. "Yeah- I'm just- ...going to go to my dorm, I-I shouldn't come anymore anyway..."

"Wha- No!!"

You pressed your lips together tightly. You felt disgusting and the desire to rub your hands where the other males had been was strong. Handsy alphas were something you still weren't quite used to. You were good at hiding yourself away in nooks and crannies so people wouldn't bother you, so this was pretty upsetting.

A deep voice broke the silence.

"I'll walk you back." That wasn't a suggestion. He was still using his alpha tone - causing your inner omega to whine softly in fear of disobeying. He either didn't notice or he ignored it.

You quickly gathered your things and promised Tendou that, yes, you pinky swore you'd see his match later. While he latched onto your back and sent joke after joke your way while begging you to stay, causing Semi to try and pry him off of you, Ushijima-senpai held the door open for the two of you to leave. Tendou called something out but you couldn't quite make out what he said. Whatever it was caused Ushijima-senpai to sigh.

"You didn't have to-"

He silenced you with a sharp look, forcing your omega to look away.

His scent. Strong. Protective. Feel safe.

That was true to an extent, you supposed. He wasn't ever purposefully mean to you. Sometimes things he said rubbed you the wrong way, but Tendou told you he was just blunt and really dense sometimes.

He stopped abruptly, causing you to collide with his back. Despite only being so close for a split second, you jumped away immediately, and your omega keened at the contact.

Warm. Muscular. Smells so good.

Warm. Soft. She smells good.

He motioned at the fork in the path, causing you to stutter out the directions.

"Omegas are weak and need to lean onto alphas in order to succeed." His words caught you off guard.

"Uhm, I'm sorry, I... don't understand."

He glanced down at you for a moment.

"You don’t ask for help. That’s what omegas need to do." You barely managed to keep yourself from flinching. Your dorm was close. You could run inside and avoid the lecture you were certain was coming. You felt your omega whimper. You hated it when you were reprimanded.

"I had it handled." You tried to sound brave and confident despite knowing it was a complete lie. You had panicked and were completely lost on how to stop the alpha.

Your words caused his brows to furrow.

"Omegas should not handle that situation."

Irritation pooled in your stomach and the words flew out of your mouth before you could think. "I know you just as well as I know him. If anything 'Tori-kun should have stepped in. I- you shouldn't just-" your words faltered when his scent grew intense, omega instincts screaming at you to stop. It wasn't like you to speak out of turn. Maybe it was the way he spoke as though omegas had a checklist of ways to deal with situations.

"Omegas are supposed to listen to alph-"

"Isn't that what I was doing!?" Irritation caused you to snap, and the two of you finally reached the side of your dorm building. Angry and already upset from earlier, you attempted to leave but immediately upon realizing your intent, his body had you pinned to the wall of your dormitory.

"Omegas respect alphas." He continued darkly, and shock kept you from moving.

"Alphas are supposed to treat omegas with respect and care for them. That is their job. When an alpha tries to take advantage of your own submissive nature you are to call for me. Do you understand?" That last part didn’t sound like a question, and despite the fact he was keeping you cornered, your primal urges that keened at the display of dominance.

Yes. Alpha. Please. More. Put me in my place.

You face flushed at the chants from your omega and bit your lip while you attempted to level out your breathing.

Alpha. So close.

"From now on," he started softly, a correction on his end for sounding so harsh.

"You will be my omega. You will come for the official and unofficial games."

You had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from 'yes sir'ing him.

"Oh,"

'I need to say something- what do I say?'

You couldn't just say 'yes sir' or anything! What-was this how all alphas asked someone out? You lifted your gaze at an attempt to figure out what to say. Your omega was practically bouncing in joy at the proposition, and you shivered when another wave of his scent rolled over you.

"Uhm," you shifted, finally realizing how little space was between the two of you. 'Shit why is he so close!?'

Yes. He'll protect. He'll do nicely. Perfect alpha.

Your omega was cheering in excitement while you were still struggling to process exactly what was going on. Your fingers found the edge of your jacket and fidgeted with the hem.

"Y-yes, alpha. "

'SHITSHITSHIT- no! That's so dumb why did I say that! I could've said ANYTHING ELSE WHY THAT?!?'

A low, deep purr of approval rolled out from his chest, pleased with your acceptance and submission. His hand shifted lower, as though he wanted to do something, but he seemed to change his mind at the last moment, instead, pulling away from you with a firm nod.

Your head was still lowered slightly in submission to the high ranking alpha that stood before you. He watched you for a moment, his gaze memorizing your nervous and confused, but still sweet and accepting scent.

"Good girl." He praised darkly before completely breaking away, allowing you the chance to head back to your dorm. His alpha snarled at him to pin you down and claim you where you stood, however, you were right. You didn't know him any better than the pup. Despite his oncoming rut, he bit his alpha back and watched you scamper back into your dorm building as though your life was in jeopardy should you not.

He turned slowly, glaring at the alpha pup who was watching from around the corner of the dorm building in anger. He didn't dare approach Wakatoshi again, the pup may have been stupid but at the very least he had a sense of self-preservation.

"Did you talk to Coach Washijō?"

The pup’s hands fisted and the muscles in his jaws ticked. "Yes." He was forced to stare at the ground, knowing that should he stare the dominant alpha in the eyes it would be taken as a threat.

"Good. I do not wish to see you near her again. Understood?"

The alpha growled but nodded, shifting uncomfortably under Ushijima’s intense gaze. After debating with his alpha, he eventually managed to glare at the stronger alpha, irritation seeping through his pores.

"You are neither allowed near any of the matches nor the building itself."

"Y-yes." The blonde managed to choke out through his anger.

"Good." As Ushijima turned away, he knew what the younger alphas intentions were, as pathetic as it seemed, his revenge was obvious. His scent gave him away and despite his alphas desire to chase after his omega, he knew he'd need to take care of the threat and return to practice.

The moment the alpha lunged forward to attack him, Ushijima turned sharply, grabbing his wrist and snapping it with ease. He couldn't ignore his inner alpha’s delight in the act.

The other alpha, although in major pain, refused to scream, and Ushijima, still patient, tightened his grasp on the younger alphas wrist.

"You are a fool," Ushijima growled, feeling his patience beginning to wear thin at the other alphas’ snarls of anger.

"What was your plan exactly?" He wasn't mocking the Alpha, instead, he found himself asking from disbelief in the outright stupidity of the Alpha below him. He'd already lost more than once. First, the game, then, Ushijima's omega, now this. Baseless confidence.

He found his irritation rising and thought to snap the other wrist, but he suppressed his alpha who begrudgingly agreed. He'd lost thrice. It'd take a total moron to try again. After these acts of foolishness, Ushijima had no doubt the pup would be kicked from the school premises. They had no time for troublemakers after all.

He released the boy and stood, not even bothering to check over his shoulder this time. Should the bastard dare oppose him once more, a death sentence would be merciful.

He eyed the entrance of the dorm as walked back to the gym, ensuring the front of the building was indeed secure before continuing on his path. He was unaffected by the bright sun and his alpha preened at thought of her watching him decimate the opposing team.

She would be there, her omega would dictate so. Even if it didn't, he'd seen it in her eyes. The way they flicked off his form to the ground, and back to the way his arms caged her in. The way her scent had shifted to a more tangy palette in shock. The way she shifted and fiddled with the hem of her jacket. She was nervous and her scent had shifted to support that. He found himself pleased that her scent portrayed her emotions so readily. It meant that he didn't need to ask or interrogate her of her thoughts. He had noticed the way she bit her lip after he'd commanded her attendance to his games, and how she breathed in his scent as though attempting to calm herself.

Sweet girl. She's mine.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, purposefully recalling the words that nearly dragged his alpha out into the open.

"Y-yes, alpha."

Good omega, so small and sweet-tempered.

He'd see to it that no one, not even Tendou, would lay a finger on her. After-all he still needed to ensure she only depended on him. No other person gets to touch her.

His alpha was more than pleased with the thought.

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