#// if anyone would like to do this too--... tag you're it!

[temilyrights]

43) “god you’re so emotionally constipated.” for Emily x Reader please.

history smothers us

emily prentiss x gn!reader

summary: years of unspoken words and misconceptions threaten to destroy what remains of a once close relationship. you couldn't imagine your life without emily. now you look at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. featuring prompt "god you're so emotionally consitpated" from my prompt list.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with a happy ending. mention of blood. no use of y/n. set in season 12. unit chief prentiss.

a/n: thank you so much for the request <3 sorry it took me a while I struggled to find the right idea. I imagine this wasn't what you had in mind but I do hope you enjoy it anyway. also side note: i've deleted my taglist, i'm restarting because it was years old so if anyone would like be re-tagged or anyone new would like to be added pls lmk!

The police lights flash in the midnight sky. Agents and local police spread across the farmhouse. And you, sitting in the back of an ambulance, blood dripping down the side of your head, the beginnings of a headache making itself known.  

The bright torch shining in your eyes makes you wince, but the EMT clears you of a concussion and hands you pain meds to swallow. You drag your hand through your hair, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips. 

The unsub had come out of nowhere and whacked you over the head with a metal pole, and he probably would’ve done a lot more if it wasn’t for Tara being two steps behind you. 

Honestly, you were fine. A little banged up, with a nasty bruise already forming, but the blood had been wiped away and it was almost like it had never happened.

Well, apart from the very angry Unit Chief Prentiss stalking towards you. 

You wish this was an unfamiliar sight, but god she’d been back months now and you don’t think her smile had been pointed in your direction once. 

“What were you thinking?” She scolds, voice sharp and eyes narrowed. You don’t miss the shaking of her hands as she holds them tightly on her hips or the rising flush of her cheeks, both she would blame on the cold but you knew they were born out of concern, not that she’d ever admit it. Not anymore.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realise the FBI now required its agents to have the abilities to see through walls.” You roll your eyes, the half-joke an attempt to fix her glare, but you know even as the words pass your lips it’s futile. Your shoulders slump, already tired for the fight ahead,  “He came out of nowhere, Prentiss.” 

Her lips purse, “They require you to be able to clear a room. It seems you might need a refresher course. Maybe until you can be trusted and I deem you requalified it’s best you stay back in quantico.” 

“What?” You ask incredulously. Of all the dumb things- “Let me get this straight, you’re benching me over nothing? Tara was through that door seconds later. I wasn’t defying your orders. You have no reason to do this!”

“I want you to redo your basic training so I know you can be trusted in the field.” She demands, stoic, serious, and so far away from the soft woman you used to be able to reach out to. 

You laugh, but the noise is sad and wild. You shake your head in disbelief, watching the woman in front of you that years ago used to be the person you were closest to in the world. Now you stare at her and feel every part of the ocean that destroyed you both. “God, you’re so emotionally constipated.” 

“Excuse me?” 

You push yourself off the end of the ambulance, bringing yourself to your full height and meeting her gaze. You knew the day she accepted the unit chief position this wouldn’t end well, there was too much history, too much the two of you had left unsaid, hurt and anger smothering any possible relationship left. 

“Let’s not pretend this has anything to do with my performance.” You begin,

words low enough that if she didn’t listen the words threatened to disappear with the wind, “It’s because I got hurt and you’d rather damage my career and ruin the tatters of our relationship than admit that me getting hurt scared you.” 

Emily steps backwards, face stricken. Her hands fall from her hips, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles for words. 

You decide there’s nothing left she can say. You excuse yourself and grab a lift with Luke, happy to leave the crime scene and your boss behind. After everyone’s finished at the farmhouse and packed up at the police station it’s nearing two am and everyone is ordered back to the hotel to catch a few hours of sleep before the flight in the morning. 

Your feet are dragging by the time you make it to your room. The meds have done their job though and your headache had faded away, but nothing but sleep was going to help your heavy and aching bones. You wave a tired goodbye to Tara, who unlike Emily had no issues checking in and making sure you were okay, and then retreat to your room. 

You slump into the chair at the desk, telling yourself you’ll find the energy to get ready for bed in one minute. But so thankful to finally be off your feet. Your reprieve lasts only minutes before a knock sounds at your door. A withered sigh leaves your lips and you consider ignoring it but still find yourself pushing yourself upright and making your way back to the door. 

When you open it, you wish you’d listened to your thoughts. 

“Hi?” You say hesitantly, staring into the tired face of Emily Prentiss. There’s no anger, her shoulders are almost slumped, defeated maybe? You look away, too scared to analyse further. 

“Can I come in?” 

You open the door further allowing her entrance. She smiles, tight lipped at you, nodding her thanks. You close the door and wait for her to speak, pondering how in the hell you both got to awkward silences and forced tight lipped smiles when years ago you two could share looks across the room and know what the other was thinking, spent hours talking and laughing together, how you had built a life and never thought there would be a day that she wasn’t in it with you. 

“We can’t go on like this.” She starts eyes meeting yours before flickering away, “Things between us have not been right since I returned and I think maybe we should clear the air. I want to be the Unit Chief, I want to be back here at Quantico but that only works if we can be a team.” 

You scoff. It slips from your mouth, uncontrolled and harsh. Emily’s gaze snaps to yours, her surprise at the sound clear. You shake your head, “What is there to say?” Where would we even begin?

“I-” She chokes, blinking as the emotions claw at her throat. “I’m sorry for hurting you.”

Your brows draw in confusion as you shake your head, “What are you talking about?”

“After everything that happened with Doyle-”

Your eyes bulge, “You think I'm still upset about that? God, do you think I’m a monster? You survived. You lived. That’s all that matters.” 

Tears pool in her eyes, but she blinks them away, her gaze shifting to the wall as her fingers pick at a hangnail. She looks back at you, still picking, gaze more open and lost than you’ve seen in a long time. “Then why? I hurt you. I can see it in the way you can barely stand to be around me, like it hurts you to even be in my presence.” 

You blow out a breath, eyes moving around the room before they land back on her and then away again. “It’s not your fault.” You breathe, emotions lodged in your throat and heart beating wildly against your chest as you try and force the words out. “You didn’t hurt me, I hurt myself. There was never going to be a life I led that you weren’t right with me, you know?” You laugh, wet and broken. 

Emily’s mouth falls open, her eyes emotional pits that you don’t dare hold. 

“And then you left for London and I couldn’t exactly be upset because I had no say in what you did with your life. We were just friends. I knew it’s what you needed and I don’t resent you for that. I just…” You take a breath, “I was so angry at myself for missing you, for thinking that I could be someone you would stay for.��

And there it was. The truth. Because at the end of the day, you’ve always just wanted to be enough for the woman in front of you. For her to see you as more than just your friend. To one day have your feelings returned. 

She’d left and you’d both been busy and you’d deliberately tried to separate yourself as well, drawing back from the painful reminder that you weren’t enough. And since her return, all those emotions have been resurfacing, however much you tried to keep them buried. Because falling out of love with Emily Prentiss was just not something you were capable of, and you’ve spent years trying too. 

Emily approaches you, the space between you closing ever so slightly. Your gaze sticks to the ground, scared to see the easy to read emotions across her face. She takes a breath, the sound muffled by the beating of your heart.

“After I came back from Paris, I used to find myself looking at you and knowing I couldn’t be that woman you remembered, the one you sought for. I wanted to. Desperately.” Her voice hitches, and then lowers to a hoarse whisper, “I wanted to be the woman you fell for.” 

Your eyes finally rise, against your will. Tears make their way in delicate paths down her cheeks, she looks every bit as lost as you feel. The only thing stopping you from falling apart is the fear that if you let go you may never recover. 

“I didn’t need you to be anyone. I just wanted you to be yourself. I wanted you to trust me.” You respond gently.

She shakes her head, “No, everyone was looking for that version of me that I couldn’t grasp onto.”

“Emily,” You sigh painfully. Her face crumples, eyes squeezing shut at the sound of her name from your lips. It’s been so long, you know. “You were healing from a trauma. I’ve always wanted the authentic you, whatever that includes. Why would that suddenly change?” 

She nods, a deep frown on her face as she accepts your words. Then a wet laugh, as she wipes away her tears. “I’ve missed you. Every day. I hate being in the same room as you and it being awkward. I used to be able to look at you and know what you’re thinking. I want that back.” 

A small smile curves your lips, “Me too, more than anything.” 

“Yeah?” She questions. Her teeth run across her lip, as she dares to hope. “You think we could get back there?” 

Your heart hammers. “I just need you to be really clear here. What exactly are we getting back to?” 

She steps forward, finally close enough to touch. Her hand hesitantly reaches out and touches yours, her cold fingers intertwining with your warm ones. Your body remembers her touch, relaxes and leans into it automatically. You eat it hungrily, tracking the movement before your eyes rise to meet hers and find soft, open eyes watching you. “I want to make you fall in love with me again.”

Your breath catches in your throat, tears pooling in your eyes as your hand shakes in hers.

“And this time, I promise, I’ll be there to catch you.” 

“We might have a slight problem with that plan.” You laugh, trying your hardest not to sob.

She frowns, nose wrinkling in the way you adore. “What’s that?” 

“It’s pretty difficult to re-fall in love when I never stopped loving you in the first place.” You huff, and Emily laughs, rich and free and bright. Her face joyful and happy, and with the wide bright smile you’ve waited months to feel pointed in your direction. God the sight makes your head spin.

“Is that so?” She asks, hand moving up to cup your cheek, eyes full of love and pointed at you. 

You can only nod, dizzy from her attention and the emotions coursing through your body. 

When her lips find yours it feels like finally coming home. Soft and delicate, both too scared to push too hard, exploring slowing even as her hand holds your cheek and yours fists in her shirt. You’ve waited years for this, and if you get more of these than it will be worth it. Everything is worth it for the feeling of Emily in your arms. 

When she pulls away, it’s too soon. You follow her mouth and she concedes and gives you a couple more slow kisses before she stops herself, resting her forehead against yours.

“I just want to say sorry for earlier.” She whispers into the safe space you’ve built. “You were right, I was scared when you got hurt. Dave’s already kicked my ass for my response, you won’t receive any disciplinary action.”

You nod slightly, her forehead moving against yours, “Thank you.” 

“It won’t happen again.” She promises, sealing the words with a kiss to your lips. 

“I know.” You kiss her again, but this time you break out into a yawn midway through. Your momentarily forgotten exhaustion, making itself known. 

She melts against you, caressing your cheek. “Oh, you need to sleep. We can talk more tomorrow. I’m taking you out for dinner.” 

You bite your lip to hide the smile threatening to take over your face, “A date?” 

She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Yes, a date. But only if you sleep first.” 

“Your wish is my command.” You can’t stop the grin from taking over your face anymore. You press a peck to her lips and lead her back towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow.” She agrees, eyes fluttering over your face as if she’s committing every aspect to memory. “Sleep well.” 

“You too.” 

She presses one last kiss to your lips before she opens the door and makes her exit. You close the door quietly behind her, sinking back into it and allowing the giggle to finally escape your mouth.

What the fuck had just happened. 

Emily Prentiss kissed you. 

Emily Prentiss has feelings for you. 

You weren’t alone.

You bite your lip and push off the door, finally ready to get ready for bed and praying come morning that this would still be your reality.

taglist: @aburman03

[angelltheninth]

Comforting Blue Lock Men After They Miss a Goal

Pairing: Isagi Yoichi, Bachira Meguru, Sae Itoshi, Rin Itoshi, Kunigami Rensuke, Hyoma Chigiri, Nagi Seishiro, Reo Mikage x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, kissing, self-doubt, dating, cuddles, anger

A/N: Everyone needs some comfort right now.

Isagi already went to Blue Lock with a lot of doubt so for him to miss an important goal is crushing. He would rather you not see him like that. At the same time he can't help but lean into you when you hug him. The last thing he needs right now is to push you away.

Bachira pretends that it doesn't bother him. Turns out he can fool many people with his fake smile but not you. With you he doesn't need to pretend, he can be angry, he can be frustrated. Because he knows you'll hear him out, you'll be there to embrace him.

Sae isn't too bothered at first, it. Then again he knows it makes him look a little bit worse in certain eyes, and that does bother him. However he also knows you'd never look down on him for that. As long as he as you to cheer for him he knows he'll make the next goal.

Rin gets really angry with himself and goes right back to training. The more he does this the more he burns himself out. Both of you are aware that it's not good for him. You're there to pull him away and convince him to cuddle up with you and rest a little.

Kunigami rushes into the locker room and closes himself off to everyone. You're the only person who responds to and talks to. When you hug him and pull him into bed with you he curls up to you and lets himself cry. He won't do it in front of anyone else.

Chigiri brushes off your concerns at first, but you can tell he's upset. The moment your lips touch his you feel tears fall down his cheeks and he can't hold it in anymore. He is upset about this, he knows he could have made it if he was better. He will be better, for you.

Nagi never showed much sign of caring that he missed an important goal. What he did do was he threw himself into more training. Of course you're there to support him through it. At the next game you're his loudest cheerleader, yelling the loudest when he scores.

Reo distracts himself by taking you out on a date. The last thing he wants is to wallow in his misery. He is sad yes, very sad, in fact you swear you felt him cry against your neck when you met up for your fate. But he doesn't want to have you worry about him all the time.

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 18

Title: Cheat Day

Pairing: Personal Trainer! Bucky x Curvy!female reader

Tags/warnings: SMUT, semi-public sex, shower sex (slippery), self-consciousness, mentions of cellulite/stretch marks, a smidge of fluff bc I can't resist, vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it!!), pet names (doll, baby), praise

Summary: You are a newbie to a gym and one of the regulars takes a liking to you and offers to help you on your gym journey. However, you notice that he's a lot more hands on than other trainers at the gym

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: maybe it should more aptly be gym buddy Bucky but alas... I had plans - I promise!! I might have to get my big fics out tomorrow rip me

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Warm Up

You hate, hate, hate HATE working out.

You hate the gym. You hate the way you look like a lost puppy and don't know which machine to use. You hate that you get so out of breath on a tread mill. You hate how your arms wobble when you lift weights.

And you hate that damn Stairmaster.

The only thing you love is perhaps how your deliciously thick thighs can support the heavy weights on the legs press like it's nothing. That would probably be it.

You take one of the last treadmills available, setting your bottle and towel down before fiddling with your earbuds. You're not really paying attention to the guy next to you; you're too focused on trying to get through your warm up.

You start at a walk. You're hair swishing as you lift it to your crown to tie with a hairband. The guy beside you picks up his pace and your eyes flicker over to him. And oh God. What a guy. He's tall and muscular, clearly a regular unlike yourself who makes every excuse under the sun to avoid the gym, with a mop of dark hair that's bouncing to his movements. He's barely sweating at a pace that would have you panting.

You don't realise you've been staring until he smiles at you, sticking his tongue out playfully, before going back to running.

You are red faced and almost trip over your feet. You need to focus. You turn your music up and eventually break into a light jog. After thirty minutes your gym buddy wipes down the machine and disappears to another section of the gym, flashing you a smirk and a wave has you watch him go.

His T-shirt has the logo of the gym of its back and for a split second you're wondering if you should book a session, before scolding your horny brain.

Workout. Focus on working out.

Arms

The next time you come to the gym, it's dark out. You'd spent the day in work and although you just wanted to go home and eat dinner, maybe have a glass (or three) of wine, you had made a promise to yourself to go and now you were here.

It was so much more peaceful at night. The blaring music was off and there was hardly anyone about. Suddenly, you loved your idea of coming here. You had little reason to be self-conscious with so few people around.

Today was arms and you were busy trying to hype yourself up using the bench press. Arms were the worst, just after cardio and you dreaded having to do this. Suddenly the thought of three glasses of wine didn't seem so bad.

Adjusting the weights either side of the bar, you slip under it, getting comfortable against the hard leather seat. You reach up and grasp the bar, straightening your arms and pushing the bar out of it's rest. Your arms wobble slightly, your arms bracing against the weight and you hadn't even managed one rep. Perhaps you'd done the weight wrong.

"Whoa doll!" A voice calls out and you strain your neck trying to look for the approaching footsteps. It's the guy from the other day. "You're gonna hurt yourself doing it like that."

"I - Uh-" you grip the handles, unsure if he wants you to let go or not, but you're palms are starting to sweat. "Okay."

He grins down at you, placing large, rough hands over yours and gently lifting the handles back to stationery position.

"Thanks." You sigh, rubbing your sweaty palms on your workout leggings. You glance up at him again, only to find you're eye level with his crotch and go beet red.

Bad thoughts. Bad thoughts.

The guy doesn't seem to notice. "I'm Bucky. I'm one of the trainers here."

"Y/N." You try and offer a smile but you're too focused on not thinking that his crotch his just right there.

"I've seen you round here once or twice before, um..." Bucky rakes a hand through his long hair. "You're new right? Have you thought about getting a personal trainer?"

You recalled almost tripping in front of him a week or so ago and flush red. Was it that obvious you weren't a regular? Unhelpful, mean thoughts fluttered through your head and you fought to push them away.

"That obvious, huh?" You smile sheepishly, finally sitting up on the bench.

"Very obvious." Bucky nods, still smiling at you. "You hadn't put the locks on the plates, they could have slipped and injured that pretty face."

Your eyes widen; you hadn't noticed the locks and were grateful Bucky was there to save you from injury... even if he was being a flirt about it.

Even if it made your heart flutter.

"Well, thankfully I have a hero to step in." You tell him playfully. "And about the personal trainer... to be quite honest, I don't think I could afford one right now."

You give him an apologetic shrug but he only smirks in response. "Good thing I'll help you for free. Consider it a free trial."

You eyebrows shoot up. Having someone around to motivate you and show you the ropes would be ideal, and especially if it was someone as handsome as Bucky, it may motivate you to come to the gym more often.

"Only if you're sure." You say cautiously, eyeing him. "I don't want you to lose out on work because you're helping me."

Bucky shrugs. "Hey, helping you is more important. I can just text you what days and times I'll be at the gym - if you're here the same time, then we can do some sets together."

You can't say no to that. His eyes brighten when you agree and exchange numbers before he runs you through how to correctly use the bench press, encouraging you and praising you even though you're red faced and drenched in sweat by the end of your set. But you feel fantastic.

If this was how your sessions with Bucky would be, maybe you'd have to consider saving up for more sessions.

Legs

Whichever the Bucky you saw the night he convinced you to take some sessions with him, didn't exist after that night.

The next few sessions with Bucky he'd been nothing but a hard ass, making your brows furrow with displeasure each time he taunted you. It spurred you to complete reps sure, but that wasn't the point. Quite frankly, you missed him being a little bit nicer and you missed the praise that came with it.

"It's false advertising," You huff mid-squat, shooting Bucky a glare. The more time you'd spent with him, the more confident you'd become at back talking him (even though you'd still complete all your reps). "If I'd have known you were going to be a drill sergeant, I wouldn't have agreed to this."

Bucky chuckles, eyeing your form as he stands with his big arms folded, sipping his water bottle. "And yet you finish every rep like a good little soldier." He teases back.

You scoff in response but your cheeks still grow warm. "Whatever."

After squats it was the leg curl machine. You're on your front, your quads under the foam cushions of the machines trying to push the bar against the curve of your ass but it's too heavy. Bucky is stood, as always, with folded arms watching you intently.

"Bucky, it's too heavy." You huff, letting your legs relax. "I need to put the weight down."

"No, you're doing it wrong." He chuckles. "May I?" He approaches, hands splayed.

You shrug, looking over at him with your chin in your palms. "Be my guest."

You still jump when you feel his strong hands on your thighs, moving them slightly wider. Your heart leaps into your throat and you could swear his fingers linger. His fingers are hot even through your gym wear and you're suddenly bashful when your head is filled with thoughts of another type of exercise you could be doing with Bucky. Again.

His hands trail to your knees slowly, bending them a little more before giving your calves a playful squeeze.

"Try now." He says quietly and you obey. The curl is a lot easier now, and the bar smacks your ass making it wobble.

"Oh, wow, OK." You chuckle bashfully. "Yeah OK you were right."

You catch Bucky smirking triumphantly but his eyes aren't on you; they're shamelessly glued to your legs and ass, watching you perform your reps.

Heat pools to your core and you quickly glance away. You have to be imagining it.

You have to.

Cardio

It had been about two weeks since you last saw Bucky and since you last visited the gym. You'd had a cold and then were so busy at work you couldn't find the time to drop by. You'd dropped Bucky a text to say you'd be out of commission but never explained why - and he'd not asked.

Sighing, you dumped your towel and water bottle next to the treadmill and began to walk. You'd come to the gym tonight for an escape. You hadn't wanted to text Bucky just in case he'd already be asleep but you itched to reach out.

The gym was a ghost town. Only the whirr of your treadmill echoed around the open space. You tried not to think about how you wished you'd bumped into Bucky or remember how he'd looked at you.

Maybe he's like that with all newbies...

That thought made your chest twist uncomfortably. You picked up your earbuds and shoved them in your ears, picking up your pace to a light jog.

So much for easing yourself back into it.

After an hour, you decide to call it quits.

It's 11pm and you just want to be back in your bed, hidden under the covers, away from the world.

You're on your way to the showers when you bump into a familiar face emerging from the men's changing room.

"Y/N?" Bucky

"Hey." You pause as he approaches, taking in the sight of his large biceps under the rolled up sleeves of his tee. "How've you been?

"Good. Long time no see. I thought I lost you."

You can't help yourself from smiling. "Oh no, can't keep me away from this place." You say sarcastically, making Bucky grin over at you.

"Really? Even miss me?" He teases softly.

"I don't miss you being a hard ass, if that's what you mean." You quip and Bucky scoffs. "But I have missed you."

Both of your gazes meet and the tension you'd been feeling over the last few weeks increases a hundred fold.

"So..." Bucky says slowly, barely breathing as he looks at you, not knowing which path to tread. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I've just finished," you say a little disheartened. "I was about to hit the shower."

"Can I join you?"

You both stare at one another. Bucky’s brain was expecting you to say your plan for your next set... not that you were going to shower. Mortified, redness bolts to his cheeks as he attempts to back track.

"I - I mean," he shutters and then coughs awkwardly. Your face is equally red but your eyes glimmer with want. "I thought - Uh- you were going to-"

"Sure," you say thickly.

Bucky's brain short circuits again and you give him that bashful smile that makes his heart stammer.

The women's showers are empty and after two minutes Bucky sneaks in behind you. As soon as the door closes, his strong arms pull you towards him, cupping your face before putting his lips on yours.

"Missed you too," he huffs, pulling his shirt off as you both fumble blindly for a shower booth. Bucky tugs at your gym clothes desperately as he kisses you, urging you to undress.

Your mind swims. He missed you too. He's kissing you senseless and you're sure that given the chance he'd rip your clothes from your body.

You peel away your clothes, pausing only to give Bucky more needy kisses in between layers. Bucky follows suit, discarding his sneakers, shorts and boxers into the pile next to your feet.

You feel a wave of self-consciousness as you take in Bucky's body; all muscle, toned and hard and utter perfection. Your eyes drop to your body; soft, squishable, with silvery zebra stripes running over your hips.

You hear Bucky suck in a short breath and you glance up through your eyelashes, smiling a little nervously. His blue eyes are transfixed on you as he closes the space between you. His fingers twitch as he reaches for you, desperate to feel your skin under his hands, but not knowing where he wants to touch first.

"Perfect," he murmurs, his hands ghosting over your hips, drawing you flush against him. His hands tighten their grip on your hips and you you gasp softly, feeling the hard heat of his cock brush against your thighs. One hand cups your face again, and Bucky’s head dips to kiss you slowly. His tongue brushes against your bottom lip and you open your mouth wider, letting Bucky kiss you with far more passion and severance than you'd anticipated.

You're lost in the kiss for what seems like an age; your fingers running through his hair as his hands explore your body, tracing each and every curve, groping at your breasts, hips and ass. You moan into his mouth, mimicking his actions, running your hands over his pecks and down his abs to his cock against your thigh. Bucky pants a curse as you pump him a few times, nipping along his jaw.

"Bucky," You whisper. "The shower."

"Right," he huffs. He pulls the shower door open and gestures for you to step inside first, following closely behind and pressing the on switch.

You gasp when cold water hits your back and Bucky chuckles, arms encircling your waist and moving in to latch onto your neck under the spray of now luke-warm water. Your arms attach themselves around his neck, half-hoisted as you spread your legs to allow Bucky to slot between them. You bite back a loud gasp when Bucky's hand slides between your legs, running along your slit finding your sweet bundle of nerves and drawing quick, tight circles.

"Bucky," you whimper into his neck, your your breathing hitching and hitching like the tightness in your core; rushing upward so fast you feel lightheaded.

"Cum for me doll, be a good girl and cum for me," Bucky sucks at your neck, groping at your tits with his free hand. You lean your head against the shower wall as you feel pussy clenches around nothing. Your fingers grip at Bucky's wet hair, gasping his name as you hang at the precipice of your orgasm. Without warning, Bucky plunges two fingers into your sopping hole, curling them inside you. Your orgasm crashes over you and you cum over his fingers with a wracked half sob.

Bucky's fingers are withdrawn as quickly as they're inserted, leaving you hollow and looking at Bucky pleadingly. He grins at you pecking your lips with a hasty kiss.

"'M sorry, doll. I promise to take my time next time but I need you so bad."

He lifts you with ease, pushing your back against the cool wall, wrapping his arms under your thighs and spreading them open. Wisps of steam rise from behind him as your eyes lock, his cock brushing against your slick folds only once before he slowly lowers you down onto him.

"Oh - oh - oh!" You moan as he breaches inch by inch, each time your walls contract around him, adjusting to his size. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your thighs shake with pleasure and you're utterly at his mercy as he starts to fuck up into you.

"That's it, baby." Bucky praises, littering your face with kisses. "You feel amazing on my cock."

You moan his name and kiss his lips hungrily, pulling yourself closer to him as he brings you to ruin again. Your pussy's grip is like a vice, milking him as you press yourself flush against him glassy eyes meeting his and Bucky can't take it any longer.

Bucky pants curses rutting into you before pulling out entirely and cumming over your stomach and thighs with a short groan. His cock continues to twitch, his cum slowly being washed away by the water save for the white, thick line that connects to your thigh. Bucky slowly lowers you to your feet and you lean against him for support, relaxing in the post-orgasm bliss and the heat of the water.

"I've wanted to do that since the moment I laid on you," he confesses, tilting your head up to capture your lips in a sweet kiss.

"So have I," You admit with a soft chuckle. "Kinda wish we could have done that instead of you making me do squats."

"But you're ass looked good." Bucky teases, chuckling when you glare at him.

"So you were checking me out!" You smack at his bicep playfully and that earns you one of his boyish smiles.

"So? Besides, more importantly," His hands grasp your hips tightly, forcing you to be still. "Today's a cheat day and I wanna take you out."

"Take me out? At 11pm? What's even open?" You smile up at him and he only shrugs.

"Okay, fine, twist my arm. Breakfast it is." He kisses you again, this time lingering a moment before smirking deviously at you. "But first let's get you cleaned up."

[the-kr8tor]

Rosehips in a ⭐ bottle perhaps dearest potion maker?

Fae Hobie thinks he lost you in his own woods, but you just got hurt a bit by adventuring next to the sharp river rocks.

-🪦

(btw I know I did a few, I think? I can't remember but in no way shape or form do I want to stress you out with my requests xoxo, have fun writing)

Whoops I forgot this was supposed to be a hurt/comfort fic 😬 sorry, it's more fluff than hurt, I hope you still like it! ❤️

Pairing: Fae! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader

Word count: 1k

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, cw injury, fae AU, established relationship.

Katy's one year celebration 🎉

Hobie was awoken by your lack of presence next to him. He springs awake on the bed of flowers, flowers that you love the most. Flowers that you've told him that remind you of him and his pretty golden eyes that shine in the night like fireflies fluttering around the tall grass.

He pats your side of the bed, feeling the cold emptiness on his palm. The vines weaved around his arms perks up, wrapping even more, rising up to his bicep as his worry grows. You're allowed to leave his abode, you are human after all. And everyone desires to leave, even him, if not for him bound to his abode, he'd leave with you in a heartbeat. Live in a cottage at the edge of town, quiet enough but not too far from civilization. Cook with you in a fire he tended to. Lay down on a bed of soft fabrics, laugh with you until sleep takes you. He's satisfied to just have the latter. He only hopes that you do too, if you so desire to leave for good, he'd let you, he'd kiss you goodbye and wish you well. His heart would ache, yes, but he'll be glad to know that you're happier in your own world.

Even so, you wouldn't leave without a word to him. You'd leave a note with your flowery words scribbled on it. His face contorts into a deep frown as he concentrates on where to find you within his realm. His hands and vines ebb and weave through the soil, sprawling and crawling in the grass, trying to find your bright soul amongst the greenery and his haze of worry.

When he spots your illuminating form, he sprints and doesn't waste time in running through every tree and obstacle in his way. Green whizzes past him in increased inhuman velocity, eyes honing in on you.

He skids to a stop a few steps ahead of you, eyes widening at the state he found you in right next to the river bank on the edge of his abode. Your ankle is twisted in an angle, the wicker basket fallen right next to your prone form.

You feel the air rushing in front of you, and the smell of fresh dandelions filter through the air. To no one's surprise, you look up to see Hobie in all his glory, expression etched in worry.

“Hi.” You wave weakly through the pain. Hands wet from the lapping water right next to you.

“‘Hi?’ that all you have to say for yourself, love?” He tilts his head, walking closer to you as he scans you for any hidden injuries. Thankfully, he finds none.

“I thought it would be nice to have a lie down for a bit, y’know?” You joke, trying to lighten the mood as you see the sky darkening and the breeze stop blowing. You know him well to know that he's incredibly worried. He settles next to your injured ankle, kneeling down to inspect the damage, all without leaving his concerned eyes on you. “I’m fine, really. Just a flesh wound, is all.”

“Really?” He tilts his head, sky turning back into a light blue hue, breeze kissing your cheeks as he softly smiles at you. “It won't hurt if I poke you?”

You purse your lips together, “...no.”

“Alright then.” His finger inches closer to the raised and inflamed joint, teasing you as waits for your reaction. “‘ere I go—”

“No!” You stop him with a hand around his index. Now face to face with an all powerful fae, you see him grin at you smugly. You don't fear him, not at all. Especially when you know that he's more human than anyone outside his abode. “I was gathering herbs for my headaches.” Pouting, lashes fluttering, you put on your best puppy dog eyes to tamp down the teasing you're sure you're about to get after he tends to you.

His brows pinch together, thumb reaching for your forehead to press gently, trying to soothe your headache. “It's still botherin’ you?”

“Yeah, it's because I do all the thinking around here.”

His billowing laugh makes you laugh as hard. You find that its infectious, and you're absolutely infected with it. “Still cheeky, hm?” Flicking your forehead, he stares at you with gentle endearment as you glare at him while holding your ‘wounded’ forehead. “I can always conjure herbs for you, love. You know that.”

“I know, I'm sorry.” You sigh, placing your head atop his shoulder while he conjures vines to grow under your foot. “I just wanted to explore, and surprise you with a few clovers for the dinner table. It always looks pretty in the vases.”

Hobie reaches for your cheeks, cradling your face in his gentle and warm hold. “‘m not stoppin’ you from explorin’. Just be careful next time, yeah?” He wiggles your head in his hold, squeezing your cheeks in his calloused fingers while smile softly at him. “You could've fallen and broken somethin' more important if you weren't careful.” As the vines grow and weave around your ankle, acting like a temporary splint, you giggle at the tickling sensation. He watches your reaction, eyes crinkling at the corners while his golden eyes grow brighter.

“Like my head because I do all the thinking?”

“Or I just don't want blood on my grass.” He jokes, hand sliding under your legs and back to carry you carefully.

“Hey!” You smack his chest playfully as he lifts you up. “For that comment, I can get back home by myself, thank you very much!”

“If I let you, you'll be home by tomorrow.” He nudges your crinkled nose until your laughter echoes around the glade. “‘sides, I've got a great view from ‘ere.”

Grabbing his chin, you move his head gingerly towards your own. “Eyes up here, Hobie.” Your breath fans over his waiting lips. He could only hum in reply, he did not want to waste time to etch your lips upon his own until you're breathless in his arms.

Before you know it, you're back home with him. Piles upon piles of clover flowers and herbs greet you, but you barely notice them when you've got the most handsome flower right in front of you.

[carmyberzattosjournal]

Therapy Files 1: Dead Enough to be Alive

Screenshot Credit: @neverscreens

Summary: Carmy is headed to his first therapy appointment and his girlfriend (who he calls Darling) tries to soothe him while he freaks out about it. (873 Words)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of vomit, passive suicidal thoughts, impending mental breakdown (no breakdown in this one), fem reader/generic lass who is a trauma surgeon, she/her pronouns.

Notes: Thank you for reading and sharing! Sideblog for social stuff: @m-z-shoroi. If you want to filter out the therapy posts, the tag is #cb therapy files.

Day 1

I almost threw up the day of therapy.

It's funny how al-anon meetings didn't fuck me up this bad. Being a no-face in a room full of faceless sufferers somehow made it easier to summon and examine the pain of Mikey dying, of cooking consuming every aspect of my being until all that was left was this chewed lump of mangled muscle and bone fighting for some form of continued existence. I could rip it from my chest, hold it in my hand, turn it in the light. Look at all the faces, the thin spots, the gouges, the dents. Half the people there weren’t listening to me at all, were lost in the turmoil of their own pain and suffering, of the loved ones that were too far away to reach or so unreachable that they were gone. I didn’t mind it.

Half the time, I just needed to hear what I had to say, anyway. Something about the words coming out of my mouth, as stuttered, incomplete, inadequate as they were; something about hearing my own voice say them to me, of my voice hitting my ears—that was the important part. I’ve been through hell and back, I understand clearer than anyone else that I’m the most powerful climber I know. I don’t need someone to grab my hand and pull me out of this mess; I just need someone to know that I’m here. I need someone to witness my existence, my pain, my misery. I just need someone to come looking for me if I go quiet for too long. Just a face over the edge of the cliff. They don’t need to say nothing. They just need to exist.

I’m just dead enough to be alive at all, and in a room full of ghosts, that’s an easier thing to reconcile than trying to explain that to a fucking therapist (who’ll probably put me on some sort of watch list after probing me with a thousand questions about whether or not I want to die, how I plan to do it, how much of my plan I’ve enacted). I shouldn’t be pissed. It’s their job. Fuck only knows how many times they’ve had their 3:00 not show up only to find out the next day that their 3:00 would never show up for anything again. But how else do I explain these brambles of mortality, this barbed wire anchored in my skin. I can’t escape death.

He owes me a brother.

He owes me some fucking answers.

 Darling's hand landed on my thigh. "Baby, you're going to crack your knees on the dashboard if you don't stop bouncing your leg like that."

And I'm fucking terrified of therapy.

"Why are you terrified, sweetheart?"

Shit, I said that aloud, didn't I? "I just... I don't know." I raked my hair back. "I don't know."

"It's a little too late to cancel the appointment now—"

"I know, I know, I know." I pressed the heels of my hands into my cheekbones. I know. I’m not saying I’m not going to go; I’m saying I’m terrified. Those are different things.

She squeezed my knee. "Breathe, pretty boy."

I heaved a breath.

"You're gonna be okay, baby.”

"What if I'm not?"

It took her a bit to answer. "Then we'll do what we can to make it okay."

She can’t make promises, but right about now I need some of those. Promise me I’ll be okay? Promise me it’s not as bad as it seems?

The car turned, then stopped. Her cold fingers curled around my wrist.

"Hey. Look at me, Bear?"

I dropped my hands, but I couldn't make myself look over. Don't know why; it probably would've calmed me down to see her pretty face, but my eyes stayed glued to the hood of the car parked in front of us, the icicles hanging in front of the grill. Teeth. Fuck, I was clenching my jaw again. Heat surged in my chest, crawled up into my neck, only this time, the panic didn’t come with it—my eyes just stung. I only felt a breakdown coming.

She interlocked her hand with mine, brought the back of it to her warm lips. Pressed a kiss to it, just to the side, behind my thumb. She returned it with a plum-pink lipstick print on it. Jagged, sharp, blurred edges, but distinctly hers.

"Do you think that'll help?" She whispered, carding through my curls, tucking them behind my ear.

I’m trying not to have a meltdown, baby girl, I’m useless.

She pulled my shirt collar down and planted another one on my sternum, just below where the neckline would be. It bloomed a wave of coolness in my chest. A comfortable cold. This wasn’t ice against my chest; ice is sharp, jagged, a frozen lightning bolt. The kiss was milder, softer. Diffuse.

She replaced my shirt, pecked my mouth. “How about that one?”

How about you give me another one after this fucking appointment, hm?

Tags: @jess248, @catharticconsolation, @persymons, @morgthemagpie, @glitch0o0, @nox-is-thename @forgechildofheph @leminjelly

[ai-the-broccoli]

in which Light and Misa discuss Celebrity RPF

(based on this thought)

Misa: *holding her laptop* Hey, Light. Light: What? Misa: *cheerfully* So do you think RPF is okay, or should we start killing people for writing it? Light: ... What are you talking about? Misa: RPF! Real Person Fiction. It's like fanfiction of real people. Light: Oh. Well, that isn't a criminal activity. We don't need to kill people over fanfiction right now. It's still too early for that sort of thing. Misa: Oh, okay! *glances back to her laptop* --Wait! Why are there 5 shipping fics about YOU?! Light: Me? Oh, yes. People do seem to like to write wildly implausible fanfiction of all sorts about Kira. There are thousands of them online, you know. (Last time I checked, every single one that I could find was unbelievably horrible and out of character, and one of them even depicted me committing the illegal act of cannibalism, which is a crime and masterfully confirmed to me once again that the world is rotting and only I can save it. But now that I've confirmed the state of things for the time being, raising my blood pressure repeatedly for no purpose will not aid me in becoming the god of the new world, so I set a password to restrict my own access to the three fanfiction websites.) Misa: No! I mean, yes, duh, but that's old news. Of course I know thousands of Kira ship fics on every corner of the Internet. But these five are not fics about "Kira". They're tagged with "Light Yagami"! Light: ...What? Misa: Yeah. And-- Light: *frowning* Misa, hang on. Why are there 'RPF' fics about Light Yagami? Misa: That's what I was asking! And also-- Hey! I'm not shipped with you in any of them!! Why?! GRRRR this isn't fair! Light: Wait. You haven't told anyone about my relationship with you, have you? Misa: Of course not! Misa wouldn't forget about her promise to you! Light: Then it's just natural they wouldn't write about us. Misa: But I'm literally in this fic?! Yet you're dating-- wait-- EW! Him?! ALL him?! Light: ...Who? *finally turning around to look at Misa's screen* A-

Looking for the Golden Light: A Hideki Ryuga x Light Yagami fanfiction, by xoxo3gossipgirl we never go out of style: A Light Yagami x Hideki Ryuga fanfiction (ft. Misa-Misa), by xoxo3gossipgirl And I'll Write Your Name: A Light Yagami x Hideki Ryuga fanfiction (ft. Misa-Misa), by xoxo3gossipgirl Grave Repercussions: A Yagami Light x Ryuga Hideki fanfiction, by xanaxLOVE28 lightning strikes every time she moves: A F!Hideki Ryuga x F!Light Yagami fanfiction, by xoxo3gossipgirl

Light: *inhales sharply, horrified* HIDEKI RYUGA?! [Light Yagami takes -100 damage] Misa: Yeah! God, my new manager never stops trying to pair me with him. It's getting on my nerves! Light: ...What? Misa: I don't even understand why. I mean, everyone in the industry knows Ryuga swings that way! And I told her I got a boyfriend. Light: ....... Oh. Oh, yeah, uh, right. Yeah, of course. I knew those are all about that Hideki Ryuga. The popular actor. Right? Misa: Huh? Yeah. Of course? What other........ wait................OH. Ryuzaki -- L -- also used it as an alias one time, didn't he? Light: Exactly, Misa. Obviously, these fics had nothing to do with him, but I thought we should make sure for safety's sake. Just as I thought, all this is indeed about the actor. Misa: Huh... Well, yeah. *turns back to the screen* This is definitely about the actor... and this one too.... and-- Wait a second! *gasps* Why does this fic say that I'm a- a- Light: A what? Misa: Light! *inhales sharply, horrified* What is "l-l-lesbian Misa-Misa" supposed to mean here?! [Misa Amane takes -100 damage] Light: ...Huh. Hm. Misa: W-wait... *stares at the description* Misa is here in this fic because she's in a fake PR relationship with Hideki Ryuga here... and apparently we're doing it so we can both... *squints, incredulous* "pretend to be straight"... together??? Light: Oh? That's... ridiculous. Misa: RIGHT??? I mean, who would ever DO such a thing??? That's stupid. Light: ...............Misa, you said earlier that your new manager keeps trying to pair you up with Hideki Ryuga -- that actor Hideki Ryuga. And you say Ryuga -- I mean, the actor, the real Ryuga Hideki, not L -- he's known in your industry for being gay? Misa: Yeah- ...Wait. *gasps, horrified* My manager really thinks I'm a l-les... bian?! Because--I never told her who my boyfriend is?! What! *screaming* She can't be SERIOUS! [Misa Amane takes -100 more damage]

[tsams-is-my-hyperfixation]

◀ | ◼ | ▶

[NONVERBAL SUN AU: Eclipse.]

Sun's head was hurting as he walked over to the desk, sitting in a chair. It was after hours, and the lights were dimmed. Moon crawled over. "Sunny, are you okay?" he asked his daytime counterpart, who just nodded tiredly. He put a hand on his head. "Just a headache..." Sun responded. "But we're animatronics, how can we get headaches?..." Moon asked, curious. Sun actually didn't know. Maybe it was something more...

"Moon, would you mind checking my systems?" Sun asked him. Moon nodded, crawling over to Sun, who sat down on the floor. "I need you to power down..." Moon told him. Sun did as told, powering down. Last thing he heard was Moon going into his mind to check...

~~~

[MOON'S POV:]

Sunny's head was all fun and games, quite literally! Cute little strawberry plushie's jumped up and down on the trampoline, while cartons of Chocolate Milk danced in the fridge. It wss all bright and colorful. Moon loved it. "I love this place!!!" he exclaimed. Then he shook his head. He was here for Sunny, not for the fun. He saw a yellow glow from the desk. He crawled over, to see someone who looked exactly like Sunny, but glowing brightly.

"Ooh! What's your name?" he asked them. They turned too look at him, giving him a dirty look. "First, stop crawling and stand up." the glowing Sunny said. "But I don't know how..." Moon mumbled. The glowing Sunny just stared at him, dumbfounded. "How do you—" he sighed in exasperation, getting up and grabbing Moon by the arm before jerking him upwards. Moon almost fell, but the glowing Sunny caught him. He was able to stand with glowing Sunny's help. "My name is Eclipse." the glowing Sunny—no, Eclipse—said. "I like your name!" Moon told him happily. "I'm Moon!"

"Nice to meet you I guess, Moon..." Eclipse mumbled under his breath. The lights grew brighter, causing Moon to flinch and cover his eyes. Again, the light hurt him, because he was darkness. Poor guy. Eclipse looked thoroughly surprised, before turning off his glow and hugging Moon. Moon hugged back. "Are you the thingy in Sunny's head that's making his head hurt?" Moon asked. "I guess I am..." Eclipse muttered. Moon just poked him innocently. "Bye bye, Clipsy!" Moon said innocently. Eclipse looked at him, before hesitantly waving goodbye. Then, Moon went back to the real world.

~~~

[SUNS POV:]

Sun opened his eyes, powering back on. He glanced at Moon, who seemed too be fine. "What happened?" he asked his nighttime counterpart. "The thingy hurting your head's name is Eclipse!" Moon told him. "YOU GAVE IT A NAME!?" Sun exclaimed, dumbfounded. Moon just nodded. Sun face planted. "Whatever floats your boat, Moony..." he mumbled. He pat his brother's head. Innocent little Moon...

"Sometimes you're an idiot...but that's okay, because you're my little brother. You are my world..."

THE SILLIES! Tagging people who might like it even if we aren't mutuals: @goodolddumbbanana @noinoi999 @ikamigami @multifandomcutie13 @thekillermaretwinz @inkyucu @skyuvu123 @ryomaandgundhamkin @coffee-the-bat @sen-sational @dagh0stking @ilikescience-confession-blog @tsamsconfessions123 @silly-a-777 @nosleepygay @eddwardharrison @bloodmoon-da-idiot @lunarlovesbeanbags @mo0ndr0p @sleepy-hall @a-fucking-tornado @rayofmfsunshine1201 @darksuns-beloved-pet @letthebloodrunlikeariver @astrofairy06 @sunny-sourzii @upsidedownapple @yelesomeblue @deyisacherry and literally anyone else. Half the people on here are not my mutuals and half of them are. If you would like your tag removed, just ask me and I gladly will. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

[whumpninja]

Anyone remember my moments of peeking round the door into pet whump and yelling a prompt and then scampering away like a horrible gremlin? And how I kept saying that was the extent of my interactions with that genre? Yeah. Me too. I lied. I really wanted to push myself out there with Whumptober, so I promised myself that I would try it. I didn’t go very far in- I used historical instead of full-on BBU, and I toned it way down for this just so my brain didn’t entirely freak out- but my toesies are officially wet!

@painonthebrain here it is!!

Prompts used: Whumptober, nowhere else to go

Featuring: pet whump (have I EVER used that tag before?!), historical whump, alternate history, mentions of abuse, pipe smoking

Whumptober Day 17: A Quiet Evening at No. 14 Fettle Street

The best time of day is that peaceful, gray evening-time when the sun has gone down but it is not quite dark. The time when families are beginning their suppers, when ladies are brushing their hair a careful one hundred times, when the door opens and whoever has been out that day comes home.

It was just that time of night, on a relaxed sort of Saturday, at the red brick flat on Fettle Street whose outer wall bore a plaque that read No. 14. Inside, the fire crackled pleasantly in the hearth, and the parlor of had an air of quiet evening calm to it. The master of the house had draped his lanky frame over a plush red armchair, an empty teacup on the table by his side and his face obscured by the day's newspaper. Mrs. Merry the housekeeper bustled about, fluffing pillows and rearranging knickknacks and poking at the coals. Presently she broke the companionable silence. "Your slippers are all warm now, whenever you're thinking of retiring. Will that be all for the night, Mr. Thorn?"

"Oh, yes, I think that'll do for me, Mrs. Merry," replied the aristocrat from behind his newspaper.

The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and turned towards the kitchen door.

"Oh, Mrs. Merry," said Mr. Thorn. "Just one more thing."

"Of course, sir."

Mr. Thorn set his paper down. One of his eyebrows was arched toward his hairline. "You might tell me why there's an unfamiliar young man asleep on my settee."

Mrs. Merry bit her lip. "So you...noticed."

"He's across from me, Mrs. Merry. If I'd missed him I would be in need of an emergency appointment with the optometrist. Now, do you want to explain who he is and why he's here?"

Mrs. Merry came to the fireplace again, stirring up the embers even though they didn't really need to be stirred. "You've seen him before, sir, though maybe you didn't notice. That traveling tailor fella you had a meeting with a few months ago?"

"Didn't much care for his boasting," remarked Mr. Thorn. "He did have a boy with him, didn't he?"

"His pet, sir."

Mr. Thorn scoffed. "Whoever came up with that particular system of dealing with criminals ought to be institutionalized. But anyway, what's the boy doing here?"

Mrs. Merry had a fine temper when she got it stirred up, and it was good and hot now. "I knew that tailor was a bad 'un," she huffed, mostly to the fireplace. "That poor lad showed up on the kitchen doorstep this afternoon, thrashed within an inch of his life and too frightened to look me in the eyes. Near as I could get out, that tailor beat seven bells out of him and then left him behind on the road when he couldn't keep up." Mrs. Merry snorted. "I'd like a chance to introduce the brute to the handle of my broom, see how he likes it-"

"Mrs. Merry, of course that's all very unfortunate, but what on earth is he doing in my house?" Mr. Thorn broke in.

"Didn't have nowhere else to go, I s'pose." Mrs. Merry stopped her bustling to brush a black curl from the boy's forehead- he really wasn't a boy, exactly, he seemed to be about twenty. It was only that he looked so small and pale that she kept calling him one. "I was kind to him when you had that fitting with the tailor. Must have remembered." She shook her head. "I certainly didn't expect it, but how could I have just left him in the street? Brought him inside and did what I could for his back, and got him a good meal- that's what's put him to sleep so heavy. He looked as if he hadn’t had a bite since last Sunday.”

Mr. Thorn leaned over to light his pipe. His face was complicated, and for several moments he did not speak. “You might have asked me," he said at length. "I don't like strangers in my home."

"I didn't think you would object."

"I certainly don't object to helping someone in need. But, Mrs. Merry, what do you propose to do with him now? Or if the tailor turns back up looking for him? Have you thought about that?"

"That's the sort of thing you work out later, when somebody's in trouble," Mrs. Merry said firmly.

Mr. Thorn took a long drag of his pipe, blowing out a ring of smoke and watching it dissipate. "I'll be the first to admit I don't approve of this whole pet business. I didn't think much of their other proposition- what was it again, sending criminals off to Australia?- but this whole matter of altering the brains of people so that they're hardly able to think for themselves leaves a bad taste in my mouth." He blew another smoke ring. "Still, we can hardly expect to tear it down in one day. If that tailor comes, I suppose we'll have to give the boy back."

"I'd hide him first," Mrs. Merry replied fiercely. "I'd not be responsible for sending him back to that monster, even if I did lose my place for it! Sir," she added, after a moment.

Mr. Thorn sighed, tapping out his pipe. "I couldn't get on without you, Mrs. Merry, never fear. The boy may stay, for a few days, at least. Though I would prefer if you made him up a bed that is not my settee." He took up his newspaper again. "And we may not have to wait long for this whole debate to be over. It's being challenged in Parliament soon." He snorted. "Though of course they've got an excuse all ready. They're saying now that even if they did shut it all down, the way they've altered the brains of those involved, they'd never be able to rejoin "polite society." And they used that term, too."

Mrs. Merry bent down to spread a blanket over the boy, who was still quite dead to the world. "If you don't mind me saying it, sir," she remarked quietly, "you seem to have come out all right."

Mr. Thorn looked up sharply, but the housekeeper had already gone. He glanced over at the settee, and something in his face softened.

Before he went up to bed for the night, Mr. Thorn slipped to the settee and tucked the blanket a little more securely under the young man’s shoulder.

[silenzahra]

Hello! I should've probably made this post earlier just so you all would know, but I've been sick and busy and couldn't find the right moment for the life of me 😅

I just wanted to let you all know that I'm not active on Tumblr on purpose. I'm trying as hard as I can to avoid spoilers from Brothership as I'm afraid I'm way too slow playing it simply because I don't have enough time, and I want to fully enjoy the experience of playing this game at my own pace and keeping the surprise. I know most of you tag your posts which I deeply appreciate, but unfortunately, I've run into some posts that weren't properly tagged and got spoiled... on the same day the game was released 😬

So this is a decision that I've made: I will only check my notifs and DMs until I can finish the game, as long as it takes me. So you'll probably still see me around, only that I won't interact with posts that have to do with the game yet. I obviously want to share my impressions but I'd rather do so once I'm done with it. THEN I'll un-filter the tags and check all your Brothership-related content! 🥰

But as for now... I'd rather not see anything. So please... don't tag me on stuff that has to do with the game as of right now 😅 I know you all mean well but I don't want to take the risk of being accidentally spoiled. I hope you'll understand 😅💖

As for other content, of course, feel free to tag me if you think I'll like it! I'll take my time to get to it but I'm trying to check Tumblr at least once a day. And same about DMs! Anyone can reach out anytime 🥰 Just, if you want to discuss the game with me, please make sure to ask first at what point of the story I am. And please keep in mind that I'm slow responding.

So this is it! I'm also busy in general so that's another reason why you won't see me around much lol. But I'm fine! I was sick but I'm fully recovered now 🥰 I hope you're all doing well and that you're enjoying the game to the fullest! I love you all so so much 💖💖💖

[serickswrites]

first- lovelovelove your writing!!!!

no pressure request: a classic team whump betrayal BUT the traitor is team leader!!! (like maybe they work for an organization or something but the leader of this particular team has been secretly working for the enemy)

maybe there’s even another member of the team that’s also working with the enemy (whether they know about each other or not i don’t know, but either way could probably work well)

anyway i was just scrolling ur betrayal tag and you write it so well so i decided to suggest a version i enjoy,, no pressure of course!!! love ur work, keep it up:))

Hello, friend! I can absolutely write this for you (I love this idea!) This is a series with 6 parts including this one. It will be published under 'Twist'

Warnings: captivity, restraints, betrayal

"UNHAND ME! LET ME GO!" Smallest Teammate screeched as they were dragged along the corridor. The absolute worst had happened: they had been captured by their enemies and brought to the enemy lair. They knew it had to be the mole. It had to be the mole. There was no other way for them to be caught.

They had to stay strong. They had to keep their wits about them. And most of all, they had to protect the rest of the team, including Team Leader, no matter the cost. The mission, the purpose of their organization, could not fail. They would give everything up so that it did not fail.

Smallest Teammate's captors handled them roughly, twisting their arms behind their back hard. One captor held Smallest Teammate's cuffed wrists in a bruising grip. "We'll be letting you go, just as soon as you're ready to start talking."

"I won't tell you anything! ANYTHING!" Smallest Teammate shouted as they shoved back against their captors.

"Then you can sit in here and think with your comrade. Perhaps it'll be nice to see there are worse things that can happen to you."

Smallest Teammate's mouth went dry as they were shoved into a cell and saw the familiar hunched over form of Team Leader. Team Leader's wrists were cuffed tightly behind their back, arms twisted painfully. They lay very still in the center of the cell. No. No. "They got you, too?" Smallest Teammate said as they scurried over to Team Leader.

Team Leader rolled onto their side and stared at Smallest Teammate, their bruised face pinched with pain. "Been here.....few days I think. Did they bring in anyone with you?"

Smallest Teammate shook their head. "No. No, I'm alone."

"Thank God for that. Well, not that you were captured. I mean that's terrible, I--"

Smallest Teammate nodded. "I know what you mean Team Leader. It's better just one than the entire team. I don't think they know where Teammate One and Teammate Three live. And Teammate Two is out," Smallest Teammate looked at the door pointedly before scooting closer to Team Leader, "doing some recon as Organization Leader ordered."

Team Leader looked relieved. "That's good about Teammate One and Three. I don't even know where they live."

"Oh, they live two apartment buildings over from me. So not far." Smallest Teammate's brow furrowed. "Hopefully they are more vigilant than I am."

"What recon mission did Organization Leader send Teammate Two on? So much has happened while I've been here. And Teammate Four, where are they?"

"Teammate Four's probably at the coffee shop on Main Street. They have a crush on the barista there." Smallest Teammate took a breath. "Organization Leader reckons they have a way to break into Oppositional Organization's base." They looked around. "Well, I guess that's where we are."

"How would they break in? Think that means they can rescue us without even knowing we are here?"

Smallest Teammate smiled. "Yep, they're definitely going to be able to save us. And as for how they can break in," Smallest Teammate dropped their voice low, "rumor has it that this place imports a lot of product and their receiving team isn't very thorough in their checks. Teammate Two is observing their shipment patterns to come up with a plan of attack."

Team Leader smirked. "Thank you, Smallest Teammate. That's all I needed. All we needed."

Smallest Teammate froze. "What do you--"

Team Leader popped the cuffs off their wrists. "You gave me everything I need to round up the rest of the team and take care of all of you once and for all."

"NO! It can't be. You....You....I trusted you!"

Team Leader chuckled. "I'm the perfect plant. I've been working against Organization for years from within. And now my life's work will be complete. Really, I should be thanking you more, Smallest Teammate."

Team Leader practically skipped out of the cell. They could hear Smallest Teammate's screams from far down the corridor. But it all didn't matter. They had won. They had beaten Organization. And now they just had to round up the rest of the team and then they could stand victorious at long last.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@acer-whumpstuff @organizedchaos03

[galadhir]

i think that there was a fanwriter named Nemis that wrote a lot of fics about E/C? i liked those fics!

My memory has never been good and after 20 years away it's completely unreliable, but still, that name rings a bell. I vaguely remember her being a nice person that I was aware of but never really interacted with because our areas of interest didn't quite intersect.

i hoped the show would give some spot to Celebrian … and instead. lol.

Indeed! I can just picture the show writers turning their noses up at the thought of writing Galadriel as a mother. She can't be a mother! Whoever heard of a mother being interesting? No one would think it was cool for Galadriel to be an actual queen and seasoned diplomat and seer, with a husband and a child.

Not to mention that Celebrian can't be interesting at all because she dies as a damsel in distress, so she must be a wimp all her life (ignoring the fact that everybody dies in distress.) People can't imagine that her life could have been interesting before that :( Sexism and failure of imagination again.

it would be interesting to see if anyone else had my idea … of course i have not read all the Galadriel/Celeborn fics out there so if someone has those, feel free to drop!

LOL! I'm sorry to end up dropping my own fics on you, but it sounds like you might enjoy my Oak and Willow

(Ignore all the tags, they were auto-imported from Henneth Annun when that archive backed up all its stories on Ao3 and then shut down.) And you can probably ignore chapters 1-4 if you're just in it for the C/G romance. They are world building for Doriath and setting up Celeborn's position in his home, with Thingol, Melian, Luthien and Daeron.

I originally started out intending this one to be a Sindarin history of the world, from the rising of the sun and the moon. But it rapidly became the story of C&G in the First Age. If I had known it was just going to be their love story against a backdrop of the events of the First Age, I might have left off chapter 1 at least, as that was setting up something I didn't actually write in the end.

But it is more or less what you're talking about. So if you're interested, you might like it :)

oh that's interesting, may i ask if it's still online? my beef with peter jackson started muuuuch later with the hobbit movies, but i like to see how other people reacted to the LOTR trilogy when it comes out

Yes, Battle of the Golden Wood is on Ao3 too - also imported from HASA (Henneth Annun Story Archive, which was the place to post elf fanfic back in the day.)

I agree with you about the Hobbit movies! Way too much bloat. There was the occasional nice thing in them - I enjoyed seeing Beorn's house and his bees, for example - but almost everything that PJ put in was grotesque and unfunny and unnecessary. The Hobbit would have made one great film, but there just isn't enough story in it to stretch to three.

as for what you say … i think that that's the current approach of Warner Bros, with its War of the Rohirrim stuff or whatever. i'm not enthusiast about it at all and i would probably complain about it too,

I know what you mean. I'm not enthusiastic either about a Rohirrim spin-off because it seems like they've picked the most low-effort story imaginable. Yes, you can use props from The Vikings and Game of Thrones. You can probably crib story lines from Bernard Cornwell's Anglo-Saxon stories. Have we not seen enough pseudo-early-medieval stories already?

I would have liked to see something we haven't seen before! (Which doesn't mean I won't at least check out the first season. But my hopes are not high.)

i do not want to be mean but btw i do have the feeling that a lot of rop fans are mostly migratory dark romance fans

Oh, the Reylo folks from Star Wars? That would actually make an awful lot of sense. They certainly behave like them. I managed to avoid them by being in the Kylux fandom at the time, and the Kylux fandom was numerous enough to just block them all and carry on doing our own thing regardless. Also a good time :)

it's lowkey … limitating? flattening? because neither galadriel nor sauron fit into this archetype and i do think that forcing them in this dynamic … just doesn't make them sauron and galadriel anymore? but i digress

I know exactly what you mean. I've mostly spent my fandom life in slash (m/m) fandom and there is a migratory slash fandom which is the same. If a pairing gets big enough then the msf will arrive and reduce it to a set of tropes and stereotypes, and then move on to the next big thing as soon as it arrives. In that case, you just have to wait for the next big thing and hope there is someone left still writing to pick up the fandom once they've gone.

Yeah at this point i do honestly wish that everyone can write its own retelling of lotr and publish it.

At least there is the opportunity for us to do it in Ao3, even if we're not allowed to make money on it. We can do it for love :)

Hoo, boy. I am definitely going to unfollow the Celeborn tag again, since it's full of Haladriel shippers arguing that Celeborn stans are harassing them.

I'm not getting into whether that's true. I have no interest in Rings of Power, and as far as I am concerned, Halbrand does not exist in Tolkien's world. I can't be somewhere where people mix Amazon's fanfiction with actual lore.

Also ship wars are not for me. I was a massive Celeborn defender during the release of the movies, and I wrote several novels worth of fanfic then. I think I'm spent.

Still, as a Celeborn fan I thought the Celeborn tag would be a great place to go to find stuff about Celeborn. How could I have been so foolish!

My poor lad! Not even his own tag is about him. Which is exactly what I should have expected, now I come to think about it.

[crispyjenkins]

mandalore the young cont.

original post/discussion here! it was just getting really long and i for one hate scrolling so far, so. here's this. have also added this au to my masterlist in my pinned post!

@malcontent-crow

#i had a whole wall of tags and it didnt save! lets try this again#i am loving this. the potential for world building and the consequences of knowing more than you should (literally)

#i had forgotten that DW wasnt in peoples thoughts as a threat during the Clan Wars#and the idea that Pre was so far underground with the movement is a very good thing to remember as well! #on one hand you have this driven and spirited young verd that is inspiring Clans to start reassessing who they are fighting and why#on the other you have this clanless outsider that knows waaaaay too much about all the potential major players and is saying#that this major threat isnt really as gone as everybody thought and hoped. sith parallels out the wahoo for ppor obi#and hes standing there watching them all argue over his head about this threat that he KNOWS needs to be dealt with#he is seeing himself as pretty on par or above with the Old Guard in terms of mental age or prowess or large scale battles#so he sees them doubt him maybe even to his face and knows he'll need to get things started on his own

#and becauae everything in the galaxay has at least one person watching it from the outside... how quickly does the news of a jedi padawan#going off the rails on this mission get out? whos keeping track and who points fingers at the jedi for attempting to control the outcome#of the war of their historical enemies in their favor? the senate (read sith) want mandalore defanged before their war but what does it look#like the jedi want? how does the council answer for his actions? do they condemn or condone him? do they try to stay out of it?

#the world building potential of the Manda and the Ka'ra is delicious.#what does it mean to be a mando or darmanda? can you walk around and have people look at you and know you have failed in your oaths?

#and ouch! Obi-Wan considering the fact that he has never been allowed to be his own person.#from padawan to knight/master and then a general and councilor and sheesh. hes really never had the chance to see who he is as a person#outside of his responsibilities to everybody around him and right now hes a war worn adult in a war worn teens body#hes always had somebody else there. as a battle companion a teacher a student as somebody to protect and guard and guide#and now he has this entire culture looking at him and waiting for his next move. and im guess it still feels like less than a burden than#the care and raising of an entire child on his own. sure he had the temple resources and other jedi to lean on but anakin always looked to#him first to solve any problem or teach him something new or cuddle him after nightmares as hes trying to hide his own dreams#and grief and flounding to find his footing as an independent adult

#so right now hes looking around at the entire mando population and realizing thats he might need to reshape himself again for somebody else#to make himself what others need and knowing he can and will do it if it means saving somebody else

#and when exactly did he come back from the war? did he have satine die in his arms and see the ruin that is madalore after a pacifist reign?#does he see the potential for that ruin to happen right now if he doesnt succeed? where does he see himself in regards to the jedi?#has he considered the consequences of stepping up to be the Mand'alor to this culture he has never seen as his own?#has he let himself think about the choices he needs to make and how some things you cant always come out the other side the same as before?

(following the trend of each of these getting longer, this has hit just under 5,000 words, so just a heads up lol? so much world building is happening in this one)

sorry you had to rewrite so much! that last exchange was cursed, it seems lmao

it's so easy to write Obi-Wan as prescient, or the route I'm going with in Dha Kar'ta, so i think it's a fun change-up to have him knowledgeable for completely different reasons! I'm actually going to avoid visions almost at all for this Obi, but everyone else certainly won't know the difference, and he doesn't tell them otherwise (though he won't encourage it either. I do actually have a Naruto time travel where Nart pretends to be psychic à la Shawn Spencer, so that isn't the route I wanna go for this Obi). the consequences of knowing too much, indeed

hmmm many of these questions depend on how deep into Jedi and galactic politics I wanna go, and I'm not sure it's very deep at all. or at least, not very dragged out. i'll explain in a mo

SO first: yes, this Obi is from after Satine dies, in 19 BBY, maybe a month or so after, but before the bombing of the Temple so before Ahsoka left the Order. He was back on the front, no time to properly mourn, though he was doing his best, and was meditating on the whole war, but especially the Sith and their hand in everything that happened on Mandalore. It went deeper than Maul, he knew, had been going on longer than Maul and even Dooku, and it occurred to Obi-Wan that the Sith either wanted a Mandalore that will side with them but not be too much a threat, or they wanted them not a threat at all. He realised his hand in that, in helping put the New Mandalorians on the throne that led to the demilitarisation of the entire sector. Obi-Wan had practically teed Mandalore up for Dooku and then Maul's interference, and if the Republic won the war, he could all too easily see them doing another excision. won't get too much into it to save it for the fic, but he is mediating with something beskar, and he gets a lil too deep into the Force, and of course this is post-Mortis so...... 👀

so this Obi-Wan, back in time, is helping Mandalore to prevent any more Sith machinations in the future, to change the future for the whole galaxy, but even before he's Chosen, he realises he's also doing all of this for Mandalore. for his own hand in its destruction, for the Jedi's hand in the Excision, for his personal connection to Satine drawing Maul to it. it's for atonement, for reparation, and also because Mandalore deserves to be saved, and Obi-Wan is in a place he can help do that. it isn't just about the health of the galaxy, anymore.

I usually shy away from having Obi-Wan leave the Order, no matter what AU I'm throwing him in because I believe in the fundamental goodness of the Order and the people in it, and Obi-Wan is fundamentally a Jedi, one of the best, one of the best. however, in this case, I don't think he can have his cake and eat it too. if Dooku had to leave the Order to accept his countship, then Obi-Wan would have to leave to become Mand'alor. Jedi are (supposed to be) politically neutral, and Obi-Wan is all too aware he'd nullified his own neutrality the moment he decided to go for Keldabe to find Jango.

one of my favorite... tropes? in time travel fic is Obi using his future fellow councilmembers' access codes to get into things he shouldn't, and he certainly knows how to work the Order's internal systems in his favor, so he

wait so i was gonna have him go in and tender his resignation from the Order directly into the systems, and backdate it for before the Mandalore mission, so that anything he's done on Mandalore so far cannot be blamed on the Jedi BUT WHAT IF he just. deletes himself. like completely. from admin to the Archives to the crèche's own internal systems to the Shadow's private servers, Obi-Wan Kenobi was never a Jedi, was never a Temple bastard, was never Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan. his mission records are all in Qui-Gon's name now, his medical file simply doesn't exist, his crècheling clan is listed as simply having been a person short compared to other clans that year. he goes so far as to delete comm histories with him or mentioning him, it's like Obi-Wan Kenobi just doesn't exist anymore.

he does this first thing after leaving Jango, he spends the entire week back to Mandalore ensuring he's been completely erased from absolutely anything relating to the Jedi, and then uses his future councilmember knowledge (and lessons from Quinlan) to erase himself from Republic systems, too. any planet he'd helped as a padawan will suddenly have no records of him as having been there with his master, so the senate or Order can't subpoena them for the info, though Obi-Wan knows he can't have gotten everything (such as any planet not in the Republic, or who don't have holonet access to their files, or both, like Melida/Daan), but he figures he's done enough to absolve the Order if anyone comes knocking about what he's doing.

he buries his lightsaber in the deserts of Mandalore, not knowing that in his old future, he'd have done the same on Tatooine.

so as far as the Jedi are aware: Obi-Wan went on a mission with Qui-Gon that (predictably) went to hell, got separated from his master for weeks to months, then suddenly changed, at the same time their Jedi with the highest prescience collapsed due to his visions, which have also changed. Obi-Wan left Qui-Gon behind to hightail it through the Mandalore sector, and Qui-Gon couldn't catch up or find him, and then Obi-Wan disappeared from anyone's radars for two weeks. then Qui-Gon senses him reenter the Mandalore system, right before breaking his training bond with him, and the Order wakes up to Obi-Wan completely erased from their systems like he never existed in the first place. everything is going so so wrong, and yet. and yet.

and yet the Force is telling them all that this is right, that this is the least Dark course of action, that whatever Obi-Wan is doing is indeed the Will of the Force

so the Order mourns one of their own, and tells Qui-Gon to let him go. and then the Order ups their cyber security because what.

i think he leaves an unsigned letter/comm message for a few people. Bant, Quinlan, Mace, Feemor, his old crèchemaster, Yoda, maybe Jocasta Nu. it's short, basically thanking them for their hand in his upbringing (Feemor hasn't even met him before so is very confused by this), apologising for leaving abruptly, but to follow the Will of the Force, he had to leave; the first part of the message is all the same, but ends with little individual notes. he apologises to Madam Nu for fucking with her archives and hopes she can one day forgive him; he asks her to keep her friends close and to mend the tension between her and Dooku, that Obi-Wan should not know about. He tells Yoda that the future is always in motion but they must move with it; he asks Yoda to meditate on his dwindling lineages and learn to accept all that he cannot control. He reminds Quinlan to wear his gloves and asks him to thank Tholme for looking out for him when Qui-Gon wouldn't or didn't; he thanks him for their years together, and asks him to check in on Feemor every now and then. He apologises to Mace for all the shatter-points he likely caused and will continue to cause, and suggests he put a permanent reminder in his comm to remember to refill his migraine prescription that sixteen year-old Obi should not know about. He asks Bant to look out for a young Togruta initiate that will join in seven years, and suggests Bant might like the healer track rather than the knight corps; he thanks her for being his longest and most dearly-held friend. He thanks his crèchemaster for realising his visions were more than dreams (which will inadvertently lend credence to that theory for why Obi-Wan changed so suddenly), for supporting him when Bruck was at his nastiest, and for always being someone he could turn to even after he became a padawan. For Feemor, Obi-Wan apologises that they hadn't had the chance to meet before then, and for the relationship they won't have anymore; Feemor has no idea who this message is from, until he starts hearing the gossip that Obi-Wan Kenobi has left the Order again. He too mourns never getting to know his padawan brother.

and Obi-Wan sends Qui-Gon a message, of course, thanking him for his teachings, apologising for "leading him on" as an apprentice, leaving and coming back so many times only to permanently leave this time. he reminds Qui to reach out to his friends and his support system, asks him to at least consider talking to a mind or soul healer about Xanatos (knowing that once it gets out that Obi-Wan is a planetary leader, it will likely badly trigger Qui-Gon), and asks him to at least try and mend his relationship with Dooku, though understands if that's not something Qui-Gon is willing to do. asks him to keep Satine safe, but to deeply think about why the Republic is so intent on helping her faction, and why Qui-Gon had questioned so little of the New Mandalorian ethos.

so by the time Obi-Wan finds the Old Guard, he's broken from the Order completely, has buried his saber, has broken his training bond, has cut his braid. I think he shaves his head entirely to let it grow out at the same rate, because the padawan cut is *Eliot Spencer voice* Very Distinctive. he paints his armour white for, yes, his men, his vod'e, but also for cin vhetin. he can't be the man he was before, nor the teen he was before, neither are who Mandalore needs, and as long as he can stay true to his morals and upbringing, he will be what Mandalore needs him to be.

okay now onto the Manda vs. the Ka'ra vs. the Force. the Force is a scientific concept of an energy connecting absolutely everything in the universe, and the Jedi have a religious view on the scientific concept. for both purposes, the Force just is. I really like the idea of other non-Jedi ideas just being different aspects of the Force, different religions and cultures based on the same scientific concepts. for Mandalorians, their "aspect" of the Force is the Manda, the collective souls of every Mando'ade that's ever marched on. just what it means to be Mando'ade has varied greatly through history, and is varied between different groups even now, but none of that changes what the Manda is, which is an aspect of the Force only Mando'ade can touch. sort of like their beliefs of it being separate from the Force have made it so?

now I haven't really talked about this before, but from the beginning of me writing Mandalorian related things, i've separated Ka'ra from ka'ra, which was a little bit me misremembering there was another term for "stars", and then it became it's own thing. kar, meaning "star", with it's plural kar'e or kare, to me, means physical stars, the way we'd call our sun a star. ka'ra, uncapitalised, is the more poetic and/or spiritual "stars", the way we might say something is "written in the stars", which actually aligns with how jate'kara is spelled; for my writing, i've used this form for Mandalorian Force-sensitives being Star-touched ka'ra-touched. Ka'ra, capitalised, is that "ruling council of fallen kings", the Mandalorian myth and it, the way I've always interpreted it, is a separate part of the Manda made up of specifically the souls of every Mand'alor already marched on. So, Tor Vizsla could have joined the Manda after death, but not the Ka'ra; make sense? all that ka'ra vs Ka'ra worldbuilding was done very early in my writing for star wars, and has since expanded to include the idea of the Manda as something separate, and I would now actually consider Manda-touched over Star-touched to describe Force sensitive Mando'ade, because that's really what I think Mandalorians would consider causes their supernatural powers: ancestors rather than the stars.

so what does that mean for this fic? the Manda is directly influenced by all those that consider themselves Mandalorian, Force-sensitive or not. it is, however, not affected by New Mandalorians, unless they worship the Manda in some facsimile, and I think many, many, many do not, not the way they were raised to. this worship looks different for every clan and every individual, and I've always interpreted it as more of a broad spiritual practice across the whole culture rather than a religion, per se, the way a real-world broader culture might pray at shrines at New Years even if individuals themselves or their family aren't religious. this is what I'm referencing when I say the Will of the People: the alive Mando'ade and their choices and emotions affecting and influencing the Manda, the collective amalgamation of every passed-on Mando'ade, and it's when these two are in tandem that they "pick" a Mand'alor. HOWEVER, such a pick is also up to the Ka'ra, the Mand'alor'e that have all marched on; to one day enter the Ka'ra themselves, a Mand'alor must be "picked" by both the People/the Manda, and the Ka'ra. Tor would be "picked" by a significant part of the People and the Manda, and so would Jaster have been, but (according to me, myself, and i, obviously), only Jaster had been chosen by the Ka'ra. Pre is "Mand'alor" only in name, only in a tenuous loyalty existing in House Vizsla and Death Watch, not even by the Manda; just simple human (et al) loyalty. Jango had a weaker "pick" from the Manda than Jaster did, but was picked by the Ka'ra, meaning if he did not declare himself dar'manda (even just internally; I don't think he's ever said it out loud), he would have joined the Ka'ra after death; if he ever reconnects with himself as a Mandalorian, I like to think he'd have that chance again. Canon Jango, though, who went on to make the clones? Absolutely not.

what does this all mean for Obi-Wan? he'd spent weeks inadvertently drumming up support in the people and therefore the Manda, and maybe most haven't really looked at him and thought "sure I'd follow him as Mand'alor", but they have looked at him and thought "that one has mandokar, that one wants what's best for Mandalore, that one is touched by destiny". I dunno, man, like. Obi-Wan is their hope before he is their leader. That will make all the difference when he does end up uniting them. His searching out Jango had made Jango finally confront that he feels dar'manda, until then he hadn't really lost the Ka'ra's support, but that severs that connection. and now the Ka'ra are without a Mand'alor, but look at that, there's a mandokar'la little idiot right there, already strong in the Manda, already rallying hope and purpose, already so invested in the nurturing and the future of Mandalore, how could the Ka'ra not choose him?

I posed the question previously whether or not Mando'ade can tell who has been chosen to be Mand'alor, and I think I've ironed out what that'll mean for this fic. non-Force sensitive Mando'ade will have this sense when near their Mand'alor, a subconscious and inherent trust in them, and indeed, some will be disturbed by this and fight it. that's alright, that's their right. Some never clock this extra sense, some are aware of it always, some just chalk it up to "gut feelings" and the like. The more spiritual or religious Mandos maybe put a little more stock in this feelings, I think especially goran'e and other spiritual leaders, but the fact that the Manda can technically pick more than one person at a time (like Tor and Jaster, and then Jango), this extra sense isn't a perfect indicator of a properly chosen Manda'lor.

now. what about Force sensitive Mando'ade? Well, the Manda is an aspect of the Force, and is in fact how said Force sensitive Mando'ade connect to the Force, by going through the Manda, first. their relationship with sensitivity is inherently different from others in the galaxy, at least those that connect to it directly. they are the ones that can sense or see if someone is chosen by the Ka'ra, depending on their sensitivity. Some see the ghostly line of previous Mand'alor'e stretched out behind them (like the Avatar cycle lmao), some see a wavering crown of stars around their head, some just sense there is a duplicity (/neutral) to their Force presence that doesn't exist in anyone else. how common is Force sensitivity in Mandalorian space? not fuckin very. Jaster had three in his entire faction of aprox. 2 million (fanon number), at least that were aware they were sensitive. Jango only had a few more, and only because he had gained a couple hundred thousand more followers before Galidraan. so i'll make the nearly-arbitrary number that Force sensitive Mandos are 1 in 1,000,000, across the entire sector. by some calculations, in the whole galaxy at around the time of the Clone Wars the number of Force sensitives is 1 in 5,000,000 but these calculations do not generally include societies and species with a near or 100% chance of Force sensitivity, because we simply don't have the data for it. does this all make Mandos slightly more likely to be Force sensitive than others, by my own numbers? sorta. which i'm making an issue of underreporting, based on Mandalore not being a part of the Republic, and also contention with the Jedi and Sith; they don't consider those Manda-touched to be Force sensitive, and with the way I've built this, they aren't exactly wrong.

for the purposes of this story, there are maybe eight Manda-touched Mando'ade in the Mandalore system at this time, and all but one are goran'e. that single non-armorer is part of the Old Guard. I have the roster for the Old Guard decided, so I'm debating whether the Manda-touched one is Cort Davin (a journeyman protector), or one of the women. Instinct wants Vhonte Tervho, but I have plans for her to be related to the goran Obi-Wan got his armour done by, who I wanted to be one of the seven Force sensitive armorers, soooo. lmao how fucked would it be if Isabet Reau is the Force sensitive one? I like the angst of that, since I definitely do not plan on redeeming her, but I kind of want the only Old Guard that can sense Obi-Wan is Chosen by the Ka'ra to be really quiet and accepting of it, while everyone else is arguing. hmmm I have an unnamed Wren as part of the Guard, that I haven't fleshed anything out for yet; perhaps them?

okay I think I've solidified what it makes a Mandalorian, at least for the function of this fic. it is tied to the Resol'nare, and following it, which does allow those who had Chosen Tor Vizsla as their Mand'alor to technically still be following the Resol'nare, and are therefore not dar'manda. at least not for that. but part of the reason the Resol'nare is even able to determine who has a Mandalorian soul, is because they believe it does. Those alive and those dead influence the functionality and reality of the Manda, which also allows for those pre-Resol'nare to still exist in the Manda. What causes someone to become dar'manda, if they are technically following the Resol'nare?

maybe it's reductive, or over-simplified, or maybe even too broad, but it makes sense to me and allows for many many different types of people to still fail, and this is obviously not the only way to become dar'manda, but one thing that will always strip someone of their Mando soul? treatment of children. caring for children. not harming children. this allows many of Death Watch to still maintain their Mando souls, but still be fucked up awful people in other ways. It allows even True Mandalorians to have lost their souls and not realised it because they otherwise adhered to the Resol'nare, because they'd chosen to interpret "defending oneself and family" and "raising your children as Mandalorians" to not include other peoeple's children. Or maybe they were abusive in the belief they were caring for their children. This would also make every single one of the Cuy'val Dar dar'manda, which I think is a fascinating concept.

to answer your question directly, no, one cannot look at someone and know they're dar'manda, even the Force/Manda sensitive ones. one will only know in death, whether or not they have a place in the Manda.

NOW what does this mean for New Mandalorians?? well, by technicality and the way I've set the Manda up, one can interpret the Resol'nare in ways that could align with New Mandos. Perhaps they interpret "armour" as more than specifically "beskar'gam", maybe they wear armourweave or other protective fabrics. Maybe they interpret "defending one's family" as putting down arms instead of raising them, in order to create a peaceful future for their children. I think there are plenty of New Mandos that technically tick off all the boxes, and believe in themselves and their fellows so much that the Manda is like "yeah sure why not, we'll make that count". I think some tenants are more easily... bent, like swearing to the duchy in place of the Mand'alor, but I think an easy one New Mandos miss, is "speak Mando'a." I think many New Mandos were all too quick to switch to Basic for everything except religious and spiritual ceremonies, and I think those already in the Manda would find that very hard to forgive. I actually get into this a little in Dha Kar'ta very soon, but for this fic, i'll have Satine not outright outlawing Mando'a, but it is socially heavily discouraged. you're not allowed to speak it in the palace unless in aforementioned ceremonies, you cannot fill out paperwork in anything but Basic, you're not allowed to use Mando'a titles (including Mand'alor), you're not allowed to teach it to your children. no outright like. punishments for speaking it in public, but if your kids are caught, there are repercussions, including investigation into how else you're raising your kids, and if you're found to be doing anything else, they can take your kids from you. not every New Mando agrees with this, of course, and go about adhering to the Resol'nare as best they can in secret, but so many do give up the language by convincing themselves it's not as important as the other tenants and, well, the duchy hasn't steered them all wrong yet, has it?

okay so on the subject of what the outside galaxy is seeing. I like the headcanon/trope/idea of like. the one thing all factions of Mandalorians agreeing on is fuck everyone else. oh, the New Mandos will emulate the Core and the Republic, but they aren't the Republic nor want to be, and this animosity extends to keeping as many internal Mandlorian issues just that: internal. no faction can keep news from leaving the system or the sector, obviously, but there also isn't a lot of interest in Mandalorian news? "oh look all the Mandos are fighting again", except that's been the standard for like. actual thousands of years. I like when fic have people outside the sector not evening knowing there are different factions, so I'll be doing that here, too, and I like the idea of non-Republic sectors having their own holonets, separate from the Republic one. so like, if Obi-Wan happens to go a little viral during his mad dash to Keldabe, that would be on the Mandalorian holonet, not the Republic one, so even if Obi-Wan was visibly still a Jedi (and he wasn't), actual news of him wouldn't reach the Mid and Inner Rims until like. possible years after it happens.

could this maybe be expedited by Sith machinations? absolutely, though I'm not sure I want to go that route, since I don't think the Sith are overmuch interested in Mandalore at this point, at least not in any hands-on capacity. I'm unclear on whether them funding Death Watch is fanon or not, but it is a headcanon I subscribe to, and I think they'd have stopped funding DW after Galidraan, to cause worse infighting and prevent DW from gaining enough power to actually restart their imperial conquering days. Palpatine has been senator for about ten years by this point, but has very little political power overall, and Demask would be looking basically anywhere but Mandalore at this point in time, both of them having written it off until they actively need something from the sector. if anyone had clocked Obi-Wan as a Jedi, this all would have gone very differently, news would have spread much further and quicker and I think undoubtedly would have reached Palpatine, but since I have Obi-Wan just... cutting ties to anything Jedi, news of him remains in-sector. is this perhaps unrealistic? maybe, but I kind of want to focus on Mandalore and not worry about galactic-wide politics for once, lmao, actually very much like Obi-Wan is doing. however, he will clock a lack of Sith interference and thinks That's Very Weird.

haven't decided how he finds Palpatine out yet, but I think it'll have to do with his Manda senses being different than his Force ones, maybe the Ka'ra even gives him a few tips or gifts to sense Sith since they've allied and fought with them so much in the past. regardless, that'll be after he's become Mand'alor and united the clans.

now to actual plot progression! Obi-Wan meets up with the Old Guard, they don't know what to make of him other than "he's kriffing weird. and young. and creepy. and probably Manda-touched." whatever other verd is Manda-touched will see him blessed by the Ka'ra, which causes them to look inwards more closely and realise they trust Obi-Wan inexplicably, which means they're blessed by the Manda and the Will of the People, too. they wonder if Obi-Wan has noticed, if any of the other Old Guard have noticed. they are one of a few that notice Obi-Wan sneaking back out while everyone is arguing.

Vhonte Tervho is another. She's at this lil summit to represent clan Tervho, tho isn't the clan head, because her ba'vodu, a Manda-touched goran, had sensed she needed to be at the summit. said ba'vodu is of course the armorer who reforged Obi-Wan's armour (need to find a name for them hmm), who had told their clan they were to cease fighting until their new Mand'alor called on them. Vhonte sees Obi-Wan, realises at the same time as everyone that he's the Kih'Manda, the Mand'ika that the entire system had been gossiping about for weeks, and she thinks of what her ba'vodu said. she looks inwards, like they had taught her to, and finds, yes, she trusts Obi-Wan, just like she used to trust Jango. And, well, her Mand'alor is obviously leaving to go do something, and she isn't going to let him go it alone.

the Manda-touched verd doesn't go with them, wanting to see what comes of this, but they already know Obi-wan is Ka'ra Chosen. they will come when he calls.

[aihaloos]

Tempted to write a replaced au twst fic where Yuu (or alternatively, I'll use my Yuu, Riyuu, who is basically who I'm writing this for) used to be the cutest girl around, the cheery one who's always around everyone, the one you can't seem to dislike even if your crush falls for her because she earnestly says sorry (even though it's not her fault) and will always help you out if you need her back in her old school. But one day, a new girl comes around and her whole reputation got destroyed. She helps the new girl adjust, tells her all the rumours and introduces her to all the popular kids. But the girl ends up backstabbing her, telling the popular girls rumours about how she intentionally plays up the act to steal their crushes to her, and lies to the boys, telling them she's just playing with their hearts and that she's a horrible person.

Yuu ends up alone and excluded, being seen as "annoying" and only having a few close friends who doesn't really interact with her in public in fear of their reputation being ruined. She ends up miserable at school, and wishes to not go anymore. But one day comes a saving grace, she gets whisked by a mysterious black carriage into Twisted Wonderland, or more specifically, Night Raven College. She doesn't mind working if it meant she doesn't have to deal with her old school, there was still 1 and a half years left of school and she doesn't want to deal with all ghe group projects to be assigned that will inevitably end with everyone not wanting to team up with her. Plus, as annoying Grim is, he's like the animal friend all of the anime and storybook protagonists she knows has, and she doesn't mind him too much.

Some things did change after she and Grim got officially enrolled, but she had no problem adapting to the social expectations of the world, part time jobs with Sam -- and occasionally the canteen -- paid enough to get her tools for cooking basic but delicious food, and new friends without the weight of her past helped her get settled comfortably.

The existence of Overblots stunned her for a bit, but a peek into Riddle and Leona's memories helped her understand the concept, even if just a little. However, things began to change eerily simlarly to her old school when a new girl comes, also in a similar position to her, getting transported to a new, unfamilliar world, and seemingly hailing from a similar world to the Earth she knows. She warmly welcomes her, eager to finally befriend another girl, but it seems that the girl does not share the same enthusiasm.

The girl only barely responds to Yuu's attempts at forming a friendship, and always seems to talk her in a condescending way, and often dismisses her, and especially so whenever there are any boys around.

Yuu will not deny any statements claiming she's an attention seeker or that she plays up her sweet innocent girl act, but she knows to never, ever sacrifice a bystander for it. But if someone insists on war with her... well that's another, different story. She's learnt her lesson of being overly optimistic, and she will not make the same mistake twice. She will not let her make her life a living hell more than it already is with Crowley's irresponsibleness.

Aaand thus begins the story. Or well, however you wanna continue it. I'm honestly in favour of most Housewardens (Kalim, Vil, and Idia in particular. I'll put my reasoning in a few paragraphs down) Adeuce, Tweels, and Ortho for team Yuu. Why?

Well, first of all, Adeuce. This is mostly because the duo is like. with Yuu since Day 1, as much of a bitch as Ace is, I think those two are the most likely to trust and know Yuu well enough to not believe the lies R (< Replacer) tells. Especially Deuce, he doesn't want to betray a friend he knew for quite a while, that would not be very honor student-like of him!! And she helped him out in a lot of situations too! He doesn't want to hurt you after all the trouble you go through to help him, and also knowing how horrible your living conditions are. Ace would most likely give in to peer pressure if the student body is overwhelmingly in favour of R, but as of now, he maybe enjoys your company just a bit more than R. Just a bit, promise.

Tweels I feel like is self-explanatory. Those two are perceptive as fuck istg it scares me. Jade especially. I feel like the two would just toy with R for a bit despite her facade and lies before dropping her after she bothers them for attention and favours one too many times.

(Ortho ties in with Idia so I'll explain him in Idia's paragraph)

Kalim is actually very emotionally intelligent. He can come off annoying and stupid, but from all the scenes I see of him, he's actually really good at dealing with people. Have you seen how he deals with the Scarabia residents after Jamil's OB??? The way he phrases his sentences?? He didn't force or even plead with them to forgive Jamil, he simply asks them to wait before making permanent judgements, and I think he's gonna be uncomfy with how condescendingly R talks to Yuu, and even if he's used to people going after him for money, I feel like R mostly eyeing him for money and how she "secretly" sighs in annoyance everytime she goes out of the party for a "bathroom break" will only solidify his dislike/discomfort, even if he doesn't show it.

Vil is also kind of self-explanatory if you read into his character and not just the shell the official English localization makes for him. (I could rant for hours about how the official tl portrays his character istg. He's hardworking and he actually didn't attempt to poison Neige out of pure jealousy, he did it because he felt like all his efforts to be beautiful will never be able to surpass Neige, who, in his eyes, always seemed to be innocent and naturally beautiful. He feels like the villain in Neige's story. He feels like he is reduced to what he often plays as, a snobbish, overconfident villain obsessed with overthrowing the hero. And because of it, it became a twisted self-fulfilling prophecy, pushing him to, in a fit of despair, be that same villain everyone sees him as.) I really don't think he will take well to R's condescension to Yuu, who genuinely wants to befriend R. (I actually have a whole thing in my head where Yuu and Vil occasionally have sleepovers where they do skincare together after the whole VDC thing happened. I feel like this is also a "vent sesh" of sorts for the both of them, just to air out their grievances without much seriousness, and I think Yuu would admit to wanting a fellow girl in the school that she could befriend, since no matter what, being the only girl can be exhausting.) Ik Vil's not a girl but he is such a girls' girl istg.

Idia... this mostly ties into Ortho and The STYX Incident, but like,, I think we can all agree on this one,, Idia is smart and capital V Very pessimistic. Would you rather trust the girl you've known for a while, who saw your memories, who helped you in awkward social situations when she can and is besties with your brother or some random new girl who trash talks said girl behind her back? The former, right? Plus, even if Yuu did only hang out with him and his brother because she likes to secretly laugh at him behind his back, there's mo guarantee R wouldn't do the same, given his experience. And he would rather have someone who actively helps him and his brother out than someone who wouldn't.

I didn't put Malleus in because of how canon him actually treats Yuu. I feel like the fandom kind of put on rose-tinted glasses on with his character, and kind of ignored some things like, idk... him just leaving them to fend for themselves homeless during Octavinelle... maybe he thought Crowley would offer them a place to stay but like... I'm still bothered by how didn't atleast offer a spare room in Diasomnia. He's a housewarden goddamnit. He's not as distant or scary as the rumours say but like. still rubbed me the wrong way.

Anyways I don't think my attention span will let me write it to completion so if anyone likes this and wants to write it feel free. Pls tag me if you do tho. I would love to read it :3

[lunarharp]

more phoenix wright situations

[loyaltomysensei]

@ofwarriorfight

[I nodded along with a smile. I knew Sam was right. I was lucky to have a mom and grandmother who cared so much about me. Sure, the hovering and fussing was a bit too much for me, at times, especially when my mom tried to do so in front of the girl I was crushing on, but I knew my mom meant well. Besides, Sam found it cute, so maybe I should just let my mom do her thing, and Sam would start to find me cute too. Doubtful since she was way out of my league, but she was here, at least, so that's something, I think. I hope] She's a great mom. I'm lucky. [I admitted as my face pulled in pain a bit as I tried to shift a little on the sofa. Ironically I was intending to get a little more comfortable, but given the pain, I gave up and just relaxed in the position I was already in] You're welcome. You can come anytime. My mom and Abuella are both great cooks. Each night is usually something different too, so consider it an open invitation. [I knew my mom nor Abuella would mind me giving that invitation to Sam. Of course I had a feeling she wouldn't take it, but I wanted to put it out there on the off chance that she might] Nah, they're good. Don't get me wrong, they'd appreciate your offer, but they'd politely decline. The two of them are a tag team in the kitchen, and once they're in there, not even I'm allowed in there to get in their way. [I joked... Even though that was the truth. My mom and Abuella had their tight-knit routine in the kitchen, and they didn't let anyone fuss with it] Hey, once I'm up on my feet again, would you like to hang out with me? You know, like outside of the school and this apartment? [Was I asking Sam out on a date? Well, I was trying to, but given that this was my first time doing this, I was really bad and awkward at it] We could do something fun. Like go to Golf N Stuff or something like that, if you want?

Continued

@LoyalToMySensei 

In high school you were either in the outcast or in the popular group, And Samantha always felt that attach to be in between, but she needed have friends. She lived in the elite crowd, her father was known due to the dealership. But was she socially able to easily make friends? At first no, she had one friend and that was until she met Yas, and ended up being nice enough to where the popular crowd wanted to welcome her in. Kylier he was a jock one of the most popular guys in school, and he liked her. She remembered that first time he walked her to class, it amazed her because after sitting how he treated the outcast today at lunch she did question why she was with him? 

Sam wasn’t okay with how he treated Miguel, and she wished she had been brave enough to come to his defense but instead she sunk down in her chair and watched the humiliation occur. She felt that twist in her stomach; a memory she wanted to forget desperately. And now at the dance she asked herself again why was she still with him? Kylier was busy occupied by his friends, he was by the bleachers laughing; barely acknowledged her. Sam knew if she broke up with him it would cause a hissy fit, it would cause drama she wasn’t prepared for, so she kept her mouth and did what she was supposed to. Date a guy she barely liked anymore. It was wrong but once you break the system, it has the ability to deroad your high school experience. 

Tonight; the brunette decided to put her broken relationship to the back of her mind. Instead she wanted to focus on this dance with Miguel. He was sweet, he was nervous, it was cute though; the small touch of our hands connected. I felt that slight tingle at my fingertips. A sensation she tried to ignored. Pressing palms against his shoulders as she knew from experience, she felt that slight discomfort just because Miguel and I barely knew each other besides sharing science class, besides us making small awkward conversation. But now we were in close proximity to where we felt that touch; felt that sight tingling at least for me I did. Sam knew she didn’t do anything wrong in the cafeteria earlier; but at the same time, she felt guilty for not standing up, for letting her boyfriend talk to Miguel that way; sometimes owning up to mistakes helps build character. 

“ But still, you didn’t deserve that humiliation. He won’t apologize so let me do it for him.” Your place, sounded perfect for how the female felt. She wanted to blend in, wanted to fit in, even if it wasn’t necessarily into the right crowd. But right now; she felt at ease moving feet from side to side to the music, it almost felt simper. That was until Miguel called her perfect. Samantha felt her body stiff up, she felt herself freeze, did he call her perfect? He couldn’t possible believe that phrase. I was far from perfect, I was human. I was a teen who was lying to herself; about the person she wanted to be. Confused daily, Lips pursed to open to object. “ I’m not, you don’t even know me.” Which was true on my defense. Miguel and I barely spoke until now, and now he wanted to act like he knew who I was, that wasn’t even the icing on top, he pegged to ask why I was with my boyfriend. Exhaling a sigh, the female couldn’t stepped back and walked away because this wasn’t his business, but when I raked my mind on the why I came up empty handed. 

“ He’s not as bad as you think okay.” A trail of my words as I felt my hands drop from his shoulders to his hips as my efforts to put distance between us. “ He was nice when we got together but now, I don’t know. Not that it’s any of your business. Do you have a habit of prying into everyone’s business or am I just that lucky girl tonight?” A slight edge of annoyance; not at him at myself because I knew the why being with Kylier kept me in the crowd, as shallow as it sounded; not that Sam was about to utter those words aloud.

[irregularbillcipher]

so god forbid i’m seen just as an average human being