#I always get sorta put off when I’m reading/watching something and ‘bless you’ is the response to a sneeze

[mariathechosen1]

[fire-lizard-ro]

SO UHHHHH- Beware the darker themes ahead. I know people were probably expecting more smut from me, but I find it hard to write smut for the Aeons??? Who even knows how that would actually work-

Anyways sorry for the lack of smut. OTL

I will feed y’all some good Geppie smut later!

GN reader

CW: mentions of death, permanent maiming, breaking bones, sadistic and obsessive tendencies, loss of self

Lemme know if I missed anything. T-T

I didn’t really get into it as much as I could have, so I don’t think it’s too bad. But still read that CW, please-

When it comes to the Aeons, I refuse to believe that they understand human conventions, morals, or ways of love. I think that with them, it's very easy for them to be a yandere??? Sorta?

Once they are interested in you, they won't immediately take you. They'll likely observe you, being interested in figuring out what it is that had them interested in you in the first place.

But slowly they become more convinced that you are someone they want to keep by their side.

Once they've decided that you should stay by their side, they'd likely kidnap you???

And I feel like as an Aeon who doesn't empathize with human emotions just has to keep you because you make them feel something truly novel- Is this that "love" that they always heard those humans talk about? That thing that they strive for yet the Aeons couldn't possibly hope to understand? So no matter how far you try to run, they'll find you.

Yaoshi

With this particular Aeon, I can see their love being one that is harmful for humans no matter how sweetly they put it.

They don't understand why you don't want the protection of their path and the blessing of everlasting life they can give you. :((

At some point, they'll likely give you the curse of mara, turning you into something you aren't. It's all because they love you and can't bear to see your mortal form crumble to nothing over the years and your life come to an end. They just couldn't accept that. So one day they tell you sweetly to close your eyes because they have a gift for you. One that you can keep... forever.

They understands that it will hurt. Yes. They understand that you'll lose your humanity and really your sense of being- But that's okay! They can take care of you. They'll never let you feel pain or suffering after this moment. You'll just have to take this moment of pain to have an eternity with them. Okay? :))

Honestly I can't really see why any of the Aeons would keep a human or other mortal around when what they pursue is something that mortal minds cannot truly fathom. Like with Nanook....

Nanook

(Disclaimer: what I said with Yaoshi? Y e a h - THIS ONE IS DEFINITELY HARMFUL TO HUMANS AND IT’S NOT EVEN PUT IN A SWEET WAY LIKE WITH YAOSHI.)

They are literally seeking the destruction of all things. Those who follow the Path of Destruction even sacrifice their own health and bodies in order to gain power in battle. The Path of the Destruction is one that seeks the end of all things. But maybe there's a slim chance that despite seeking to destroy all creation, they would find you oddly charming. A cute little thing that they cannot seem to take their eyes away from. Somehow, to them, you are just as beautiful as the fiery destruction they seek to bring to the universe.

Obsessively watching you and doing whatever they please to you. Keeping you close at all times, trapped in their embrace as though their hands were a living cage. Again- No matter where you run, no matter where you hide… they’ll find you. Their love is also Very Harmful to Humans TM. Holds you far too tight without really realizing it. But if you try to pry their large fingers off or you squirm too much… they only squeeze harder. To the point that you feel your skin bruising, flesh becoming sore and your very bones creaking. If you actually manage to get away from them somehow, I’m not sure what will happen to you. Not to mention the fact that it will be very VERY hard to run once you’ve escaped. Aeons can probably traverse the universe at speeds unfathomable. And their piercing gazes leave no stone unturned. How could you hope to hide from such all-seeing eyes? How can you hide from an Aeon? Once they’ve caught you again… you probably aren’t getting away. They may break you a bit. Juuust a but. Enough to discourage a second escape attempt- And maybe even enough to make that second attempt impossible. You don’t really need to walk if they’re always holding you, right? Maybe if they… break your legs? Careful you don’t anger them any more than that- Paralysis from the waist down is also a dangerous, but possible option. You may be broken after that, but they’re the Aeon of Destruction. You’ll be beautiful to them even broken. :))

At some point, if this was you second attempt and you’re somehow able to get away without them breaking your legs- Or hell maybe they did but you are just stubborn enough to devise a way to run away again (though likely not on those twisted legs of yours). Point is- If this is not your first attempt at escape, it’s likely that word of what happened the first time has spread. I doubt there’d be a planet in the galaxy willing to harbor you when Nanook could easily raze their cities to the ground and destroy the very planet they live on.

Nanook is the Most Dangerous of the Aeons to catch the attention of. Because I think with them, the most realistic thing would be that you are always one wrong step away from becoming a beautifully broken thing. The grand and beautiful destruction this Aeon sought. For what greater love is there than making you an example of their reason for being, right? Right? :)))

Or maybe it’s because they cannot be bothered with you if you become too much of a hassle even if they fancy you. I’m not really sure how Aeons really work, soooo…. I’d honestly be careful around this one… Even though I’m sure most would be considering their intimidating stature and nature.

Lan

I wonder if Lan would find it fun to let you think you’d escaped them only to hunt you down. I mean. They are the Aeon of the Hunt. Yes that means more than just that, but. I can see it. Some sort of sadistic glee they have in the fear in your eyes, the pounding in your heart, and the panicked breaths you take when realizing they’ve found you again. But they’d never hurt you! No, no, no- They certainly wouldn’t… Right?

IX

I don’t think there’d be any getting away from the Aeon of Nihility. 💀

I mean- Considering what happened in the Simulated Universe when meeting IX, I think you know why. I don’t know too much about them and no longer have many spoons for this so ye.

Maybe will write more about the Aeons later.

Sorry for any wack writing and typos it’s ass o’clock and it’s time for my eepy ass to go mimimimimimi- Might fix it eventually if I catch it.

[nivq87]

@gloompun

Sorry for all the pings as I try to figure out wtf I wanna do formatting wise.

I’m uncertain what your starting knowledge of it is so forgive me if I’m rehashing stuff you’ve already heard. Discworld is a set of books written by the late Terry Pratchett, and they’re all fantasy (which is more or less relevant depending on the book), comedy, and satire that riffs on a bunch of topics. Reccing a starter book is always a fun and tricky time because if you ask literally any discworld fan for a reading order you’ll get a very long answer and it’ll be different from the next guy because we’re all Very enthusiastic to get people to read it and Very opinionated on the ideal path.

That’s because with one exception (sorta), every book really does just stand on its own? There’s a bunch of mini series that do have continuity, but knowing what happened before is nice but really important because each book deals with what it’s about and he’ll tell you any important context as it comes up. Like I honestly read them first in whatever order I could borrow them from my library and what I found in stores or on amazon (back when they primarily just sold books lol) and that really does just work fine. I’ve got more to say but if you wanted to just stop reading here with my blessing to go crazy go stupid and just read blurbs until something vibes that’s A okay.

That said I would steer clear of the first 2-3 books he wrote for discworld, not because they’re bad (I like them quite a lot!) but because they’re not really representative of what the series becomes. He’s still very noticeably figuring out what he wants to do with this space in the first two, and is more firm on it through the third. By the fourth book, Mort, the foundations of the world are a lot more defined and it starts the voice of the books that carries until the last couple books when his health went on the decline. So like, if come bell or high water you decide to follow him through his process from the beginning because starting in the middle feels too off putting, you Can go for The Colour of Magic which is immediately followed by The Light Fantstic, but just know that the vibes’ll change. But it’s about this wizard named Rincewind who very much wishes things would stop happening to him and the disc’s first ever tourist Twoflower who Loves when things happen so he can take a picture of it and remember it for his memoire. Meanwhile Rincewind is trying his very best to not let them die.

If you wanted to start where I did, you can start with The Wee Free Men which is YA, and since most of them are not, it like, doesn’t have much to do with anything else going on for the first couple books in the Tiffany Aching series. The first book is about the coming of age of Tiffany, who recently decided that she wanted to be a witch because she likes knowing things, and the people in her community somewhat recently killed this old lady for being a witch, but was really probably just old and lonely in her isolation. As she’s making these resolutions a faerie queen steals her younger brother and she takes issue with that, and with the help of some funny little blue men that really like to test the age rating of this book, go on An Adventure to get her brother back.

If you want a lot to chew on afterwords as far as fanfic goes, you can start with the city watch series in Guards! Guards! and follow Samuel Vimes on his road to recovery from his alcoholism as he tries to live up to his ideals of what a watchman should be and oh gosh oh fuck oh beans why the hell is a dragon here burning shit? Better consult an expert, except that expert is a lady who breeds dragons but those dragons are a sneeze a way from a messy alchemical explosion and the group of ladies whose hyperfixation this is are like if quilting groups were horse breeders. I’m sure this won’t be relevant. Tumblr girlies love love love shipping vimes so if fan content is something you want to be sure of, this is a good pick. The city watch books also happen to be my personal favorites.

Speaking of tumblr girlies, everyone seems to be big into Monstrous Regiment again? Very fun one off (not part of a series) about Polly who is trying to recover her brother who went off to war, and basically mulans it to figure out where he is if he’s still alive. Except whoops! The new recruits she’s trying to fake it amongst are Also women who joined up for one reason or another. There’s a lot of queer and trans vibes here honestly which is pretty cool for something that was published in 2003. (Although not what I would argue is the first, that one is in the city watch books and I’ll expand if you want.

If the Tiffany books seemed interesting but you’re not in the mood for YA, then the witches series is like that but more mature, where Wyrd Sisters is a comedic riffing of hamlet and macbeth. (Technically the second book in the witches series, but the first is Equal Rites and is pratchetts third book that I mentioned is somewhat tonally different from everything else.)

In a similar vein if Rincewind trying to survive sounded fun, but you’re deciding to not start at the Very beginning like most advise, then Sourcery is the third book in the Rincewind series, someone too OP to exist hits the scene like a brick in a sock to the face… and Rincewind copes by… running away. Except there’s problems literally everywhere? Maybe more running will save him?

There’s more than 40 books, and that’s some starting points, but if you wanna click around and maybe get spoilers if you scroll too far, there’s also the wiki (which isn’t fandom blessedly) most of these have lil blurbs on em and quite a few have plot synopsis so if that’s territory you’re willing to tread here’s Literally Everything lmao. The only things on here I haven’t read at least once are The Science of Discworld mini series, so if there’s anything you want further opinions on feel free to dm me or something.

https://wiki.lspace.org/Bibliography

[sukirichi]

overtime

You let your boyfriend release stress from working overtime.

REQUEST. med! student au / doctor! au + forbidden relationship + praising kink + dacryphilia

CONTENT/WARNINGS. praising kink, dacryphilia, face fucking, huge age gap (Nanami is like 20 years older), mentions of gloomy atmospheres expected of medical centres, gagging, mentions of previous lovemaking sessions

NOTES. ah thank you for this request anon, i’m really in love with the whole med student / doctor au ingredient cuz well...it’s sorta self-indulgent. i hope you liked this as much as i did!

The familiar stingy aroma of disinfectant looms at every corner of the wall, pressing down beneath your scrubs and deep into your scrubs. You find it ironic that the walls are always so white, barely any colour to surround the entire building. Growing up, you believe that white represents tranquillity, silence, and serenity – which is the exact opposite of what university hospitals really are.

You’re no stranger to the pained moans echoing at the ends of the hall, the sight of children with sunken cheeks playing with a cannula almost too painful to look at.

The clock above the front desks reads that it’s a little past four in the morning, and you’re beyond weary. You’ve grown used to just being high off caffeine and being satisfied with quick ten minute naps before you’re summoned again. People always ask you, why choose this profession? You could make as much money without having to be this tired, to which you always respond with a frown, claiming that it’s never about the money and actual working professionals are a lot more exhausted than you are, yet not once have they complained.

They do have their days though, and it just so happens that it’s one of your superior’s days as he tugs at your wrist, dragging you inside the nearest empty room before soft lips dive down to capture yours.

You don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s him.

You’ve fooled around long enough with your superior to know it’s his scent washing over yours, that all too familiar tent growing in his pants pressing between your legs and bumping your core as a silent promise of what’s to come next. A stuttered, breathy moan immediately greets his ears when he pins your arms overhead, his lips falling into the sweet column of your neck.

It’s clear that this is wrong – both of you know this – but the pleasure and need to relieve stress in such an overwhelming environment clouds both your consciousness that neither parties pull away.

Your relationship with him started off with just curiosity.

Doctor Nanami is a well accomplished man, earning beyond money and titles in his twenty years of service in the field. He knows he looks good, knows he’s irresistible every time he comes in front of the class, looking equally dashing in either a nude suit or in white coats. Someone of his age and experience definitely is no fool to the way his bright eyed student’s gaze lingers over his lips as she stays behind in class to ask about something she doesn’t get far longer than should be necessary.

He’s an expert at the human body more than anything else – Nanami knows lust when he sees one.

And he’s always been such a kind, concerned doctor who only wants everyone to feel better that how could he say no to you, especially when you’re only so eager to suck him off under the table, getting off to the fact your pretty lips are wrapped around his thick and veiny cock?

What once starts off as a mutual agreement to use each other for pleasure while still keeping the faux professionalism to not lose face, something shifts during the stolen kisses during break times and heated touches as promises of I’ll see you later after overtimes. Private tutoring sessions turns into moments of reminiscing childhoods, hands splayed all over his chest while he tucks you in his arms, mumbling something about always have wanting to be his own version of a hero.

Things move faster than both of you realize, the titles dropped and replaced with sweethearts and good morning sir topped with a sweet, intimate smile that only he could ever know the meaning of.

It’s simple, longing, and definitely unprofessional, even more so when Nanami pushes you down on the floor, eager hands unbuckling his belt to spring his cock free. Your mouth salivates at the red pulsing tip already leaking with pre-cum, your tiny hands on its way to wrap itself around his base when Nanami takes matters into his own hands and slips his cock through your lips in one thrust.

Your back hits the wall and your eyes spring with tears, gurgled sounds of Nanami fucking down your throat lewd and dirty in the empty room. He sighs, chest panting and hands cradling your head. “You feel so good, sweetheart,” he praises, bucking his hips further inside. “Don’t know what I’d do without you here, always so ready to make me feel good.”

The moan you let out vibrates around his cock, fuelling his desire intensely.

Nanami has always been gentle with you; as a man who values time over anything else, he likes to savour each second he has with you, slow, rough hands running up and down the curve of your spine before he flicks his tongue deep within your pussy, wanting to make you cum countless times before he makes love to you. Had you both been home, he’d cradle your face and stare deep into your eyes as he fucks you, sweat tinged from the slight burrow of his brows as he commands, “Look at me. Look at me when I’m fucking you, angel.”

And you being you, you’ll remain submissive to the pleasure he’s more than glad to give you, leg wrapping around his waist all to feel the way he’s hitting deep inside your sopping cunt.

He’s impatient this time around, and you can’t blame him. You’ve barely seen each other from hours of working overtime, with you staying up late to study for finals and him barely leaving the operating rooms. You gladly let him use you like this just as he’s allowed you to cum multiple times before despite his clear order to hold back, but Nanami is a soft man at heart, unable to resist his precious lover when you’re trembling around him like that.

Nanami places a palm at the back of your head to prevent you getting fucked into the wall, his pace not slowing down a bit. He gazes at you under his lashes, cheeks hollowed and drool dribbling from the edges of your lips.

He finds you utterly filthy, a complete contrast to the well-put med-student who’s always admired and looked up to by their peers. Nanami groans as his tip hits the back of your throat, your nose pressing down on the neatly trimmed blond hairs brushed on his base. You gag around him, the tears crystallizing your cheeks. Filthy, yet still so pretty his little angel is, and for a moment, Nanami pauses, captivated by your beauty.

His cock is still pulsing inside your mouth, a thumb running across your tears to wipe them away. Nanami grabs your chin to tilt your head up, and he swears he could cum right then and there. You’re kneeling on the bleached floors, eyes wide with a tinge of innocence, tears collected in your lashes and cheeks sucked to take him in deep.

“Always so pretty for me, angel,” he coos, sliding his drenched cock out your mouth gruesomely slow, stopping only with the tip in. “Is my cock making you cry? You’ve taken me before, angel, this isn’t difficult for you now, is it?”

You hum around his cock as a response, and Nanami bucks into your mouth by accident, causing his length to slip past your walls until he’s right at your throat.

He’s big and long, his dick always having been a blessing to the both of you, but at this time, it feels more like a curse. Drips of cum paints the back of your mouth but you only grip your thigh harder, ignoring the painful throbbing of your cunt that’s so needy for him already. You remind yourself not to be selfish and focus on him instead, to your precious superior who needs you to help get his mind off things.

Eager to be of service as always, you swipe your tongue all over the ridges of his cock, making sure to press the wet muscle harder on the prominent veins. Nanami throws his head back to moan, his nails gently scraping your scalp with each thrust.

It’s hard to tell who’s setting the pace, but it becomes clear as you kneel there motionlessly, squeezing his ass instead while he relentlessly fucks your mouth. His groans are growing louder, breaths falling out of rhythm with each passing seconds. Your eyes are shut tight as you let him abuse your throat, hitting deep inside you with each precise thrust in addition to his balls slapping your chin.

Your face is sopping wet, both from drool, tears, and his cum. You stay there like a good girl, doing your best to breathe through your nose as he throbs inside you. Nanami’s words are garbled and incomprehensible, enticed to only snap his harder when he sees your tears streaming down your face and wetting your scrubs.

His length slips past inside your mouth into an impossibly deeper angle as he tugs your hair up, his knees bent just to continuously pummel against your tonsils as if it was his own winning goal. Your cries increase in volume at the way he’s losing himself in you, forgetting to watch the back of your head before he thrusts all the way, keeping you flat and frozen gagging on his cock, nose nudged against his hairs.

Nanami’s groan is accompanied by the twitching of his cock, and he cums, thick spurts of white shooting down your throat. You try to pull yourself away from him after that, thinking that he’s satisfied, but he only grips your hair harder as a warning.

Still struggling to breathe, you swallow around his thick saliva-drenched length, the mere motion of you gulping making your walls close down on him.

Nanami grunts at the oversensitivity and he pulls out, his dick growing boneless and soft.

He’s utterly spent, your drool and his cum dripping down to the floors in audible plaps. Nanami sighs as he takes sanitary wipes from the unused desk to wipe his dick clean, while you stay on the ground, palms flat beneath you as you pant for air.

You can tell you’ll have a sore throat by tomorrow because you utterly fucked, voice growing hoarse with each failed cough. Falling back onto the wall, you close your eyes, only to snap them open again when you feel something wet and warm rubbing your skin.

Nanami is in front of you, his touch gentle and eyes soft as he cleans your face, thumb absentmindedly cradling your bottom lip.

You don’t fight back the smile that matches his. Even after everything, Nanami is still your boyfriend, someone who isn’t just a good fuck to you anymore. This is only one of the reasons you’ve fallen so madly in love with him; his effortless ability to take care of others truly meritorious of him.

He dunks them into nearest bin and kisses you flat on the lips, his large hand cupping your cheeks. You sigh into the slow kiss, enjoying what little – and fleeting – time you have with him.

Nanami pulls away with a popping sound, a lovesick smile on his usually stoic expression. It makes you feel giddy and even a little shy, forgetting the fact he just fucked your skull seconds ago, but it’s rare that he lets his guard down anywhere that isn’t the comfort and safety of his home. You’re his home though, and he kisses you one last time, the gesture telling a thousand more words than he’s ever able to.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “I promise I’ll make it up to you when we’re both home.”

You don’t stop him once he finally leaves the room, his rushed footsteps to make it back to the operating room a signal for you to get back to work too. It’s already five am when you’ve made it back to your post, but instead of feeling tired, you’re a lot more energized compared to when you first got here.

Perhaps working overtime isn’t so bad after all, not when there’s always a promise you and Nanami are never leaving the bed for the free weekend.

You’ll just have to be patient.

[mrpenguinpants]

Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

Hey anon! Okay, I’m just gonna level with you. This request? This request right here? Probably one of my favourites. I went feral over this at 3am and my monkey brain fabricated an entire life story for Xiao when he’s not even out yet.

I sorta combined this request with my feral plot idea (which is honestly a 20k word fic at this point), but ahem, I hope you like and np^^ gotta make so many offerings so Xiao hopefully blesses me. Have a lovely day anon!!

--- Xiao Semi Series

[ Friendship ] [ Falling in Love ] [ Cuddles ] [ Protective ] [ Affection ] [ Jealously ] [ Opposites Attract ] [ Fainting ]

[Masterlist]

---

[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@mikeysbike @unionwitch @musekala @stanzastic @akaasea @xoneaboveallx @adoring-ghost @asheseiler @childelover @dilucsz @dai-tsukki-desu @thicmitten @sunnshiii @hanniejji​  @snowy224 @mayumintsu @tigerpriestess @yuu-yuukurotsuki @legionqueensav​ @youaskedfurret​

---

Xiao: String of Fate [Soulmate AU] HCs

The red string of fate is a concept that those who are connected by a red string are destined to meet and fall in love. Regardless of place, time, or circumstances. The red string can never be broken unless one connected passes away.

Alatus

For the past few days, Alatus would wake up early and scale the mountains of his small village to pick Qingxin flowers. The morning dew would still be on the petals before the sun came by and evaporated everything. It became a bit of a small joke that the elders used to make, that a earth spirit would appear at the break of dawn to place the flowers for harvest. Not that Alatus minded, he was grateful that whatever celestial spirt was out there made sure to replace the ones he took. Remembering to always offer a prayer of thanks and a small offering, you would scold him if he didn’t.

He quickly scaled and vaulted over the wooden beam and slipped into your room. He winced at the sound of his shoes landing on the wooden floor but you didn’t seem to stir. You were still sleeping peacefully as Alatus took the fresh flowers to add to the ones already in your small vase beside you. They were your favourite flower after all. He reminisces about when you were both children and how you would drag him to mountains and tell him all about how at the very top there was his beautiful white flower. But you were both too young with small limbs to even attempt to climb it, plus if you somehow managed to do it, it would take too long and both your parents would be worried. It never seemed to deter you as you reasoned that a wind spirit would help your journey. Come to think of it, you always put a lot of faith into celestial beings. But he goes along with your plan, never one to contain your desire to explore.

He’s suddenly snapped out of his memories when he hears a soft knock on the door. It quietly opens to reveal your mother. She gives him a small smile as he looked a bit guilty for getting caught breaking in before waving him over to hand him something. You left him with a small bamboo package that you had wanted to give on his birthday. On top of the bamboo, you had wrote a short but warming message that you were worried about him always running off outside and that he might catch a cold. He smiled softly at your words, ingraining the way your ink brush flowed down the bamboo sticks into his mind. He offer’s a small thanks as she gives him a comforting hug. Whether for him or her he doesn’t know and she leaves.

He carefully untied the brown string keeping the package together to unravel a blue, white, and gold sleeve. He silently marveled at how beautiful it was and held it up to the light, it almost seemed to shine with subtle highlights. He has no idea how you managed to create this, he had never even seen the dye of red or gold used in clothing before. Perhaps the celestial beings decided to bless you for your prayers and devotion. He gives one small squeeze of your hand as he ties the sleeve to his arm and he slips out through the same window he came from. He looks up at the mountain’s he’s scaled before setting on the tallest one. One so tall the elders say that it could reach celestia.

As he scales the mountain he can feel a taint tug on his thumb, before it slowly disappears. He closes his eyes for a brief moment, breathes in deeply, and continues upwards.

The Golden-Winged King

One of his first adepti duties was to investigate the place he once knew as his home. There had been a dream eating demon that had been spreading curses onto unsuspecting youths. Putting them into eternal sleep before they bodies finally succumbed and they passed away. It was horrible and Alatus swore he would do everything in his power to make the dream demon suffer. Unfortunely, seeing as this was his first time venturing out back into the moral world and still recovering from his trials, he was assigned to work with a senior anemo adepti. One who was well-versed in using polearms that could “show him the ropes” as mortals would say.

This other adepti was too loud and erratic for his tastes compared to the calm and peaceful friend he once knew. Always getting side-tracked and flying around Alatus like some overgrown pixie. Never taking anything serious even though the both of you were tasked to destroy evil. But he held his tongue since this was his senior, gripping his sleeve when he was especially annoyed. This only seemed to spur the other anemo adepti further and inquire about the sleeve. Naturally, Alatus was hostile and guarded. That was first time he ever raised his voice which instead of becoming offended or angry, the other adepti was impressed.

From then on the other adepti seemed to want to interact with Alatus at any given moment. From checking in with him on his latest mission or if he heard about how the delicious flowers tasted. Who even ate flowers? Either way, every instance of communication was brushed aside, he would always make some weak excuse that he needed to train. Which lead to the other challenging him. The both of you were the same element so it would be a good time to see who was the best at wielding it. Overtime he began to look forward to your weekly spars. Even finding a bit of joy out of them. Ever since he had climbed up the mountain it had been constant training and hardships but when it came to these spars. It was fun. Alatus began to open his heart a tiny bit, let’s himself relax and fall into amusement when he see’s his partner’s face pop over him as they hovered over him.

He even began to feel his locked up heart start to beat a bit faster whenever he saw his partner perk up and wave at him. Whenever you threw your arm around him he never brushed you off like he used to, just basked in your presence as you rambled about how this stuck up bird was running everyone through the ground with her demands. It was amusing for fresh adepti’s to see you both interact. The ever stoic and aloof Alatus that taught them through strict rules loosen up immediately and smile whenever your head popped up to scold him for his training methods.

It was fun. Until the day he became possessed and killed you with your own weapon.

Guardian Yaksha

Guizhong was concerned. Ever since Rex Lapis had saved the poor adepti man from his possession, he had locked himself in. He still fulfilled his duties with alarming accuracy but it seemed that he completely on auto-pilot. He could stand in the pouring rain without realizing it or he always seemed to be in such a rush. Asking to do anything that needed to be done rather than relax. He was going to end up running through his long years at this rate. She brought it up to Rex Lapis and his fellow Yaksha but none of them had the time or want to check in on him. It was a time of war after all. Except one.

You watch him stand in the rain. Any attempts from you or Guizhong to ask if he was better always failed and you didn’t want to push. But this was already past the point of simple concern. So the next time you saw him relapse you walked over and embraced him. He usually carried himself as stiff as possible but you swore you were holding one of Rex Lapis’s pillars. You braced yourself to get thrown off or at the very least be questioned but none of those things happened. He just stood there and to be honest, you weren’t sure if that was even more concerning. You both didn’t say anything even when the rain stopped until Rex Lapis had summoned you both over.

You and him never developed a close friendship but he never seemed to brush you away whenever you sat beside him ever since you hugged him in the rain. A bare acknowledgement on good days but that was alright. Just sitting in each other’s presence when the war wanted to be quiet somedays was nice. On harder days when fighting took too much of a toll on your body you would lean your head on his shoulder. He never shrugged you off or seemed bothered by it, in fact, it almost seemed as if he leaned back against you. You both never spoke during these moments, just a silent understanding looming over you both.

Then when Morax announced that Guizhong had passed away, you felt as if you somewhat understood how Xiao felt. You didn’t even register that you had walked back to the same place Xiao was standing back when he was in the rain. The war was finally over but after everything that had happened to get to this point, it was hard. You knew that a few of your other Yaksha’s were ready to return to Jueyun Karst or return to earth. You blink quickly as you feel two arms wrap around you and you realize how funny fate seems to be. You choke out some unintelligible noise that’s a mix between a laugh and a sob as you cling onto him and let your bottled up emotions pour out.

He’s the last person you see in the newly established Liyue, wishing him luck in the rest of his journey, as you return to the earth. You aren’t sure what you’ll turn into but you hope that the peaceful atmosphere you both created will remain.

Xiao

It was completely out of the blue when you asked if he wanted to come on an adventure with you. You were both sitting under the tree that held the Wangshu inn up when you suddenly sat up and pointed in some far off direction across Liyue. Asked if he wanted to come with you after the lantern festival was over. He was a bit taken aback, you were a traveler first and foremost but you never asked if he wanted to come with you. You had always assumed that he wanted to stay as a protector of Liyue but after what Morax, now Zhongli, had said and how it was time to him to step down. You decided to ask him. It didn’t have to be far, you both could go to the stone gate if he wanted, just if he wanted to come with you anywhere.

His first instinct is to decline but you end up cutting him off before he can say anything.

“I know you have your reasons and loyalties to stay as Liyue’s protector. That’s why I’m not asking for you to accompany me across Teyvat. But I don’t know when I’m going to be back and after what happened in Liyue, I thought it would be nice to just, take a break, and go anywhere. You don’t have to accompany me if you don’t want to but I think it’d be nice to wander together,” you say as you continue to look across the land from the balcony. He can’t see where you’re looking at exactly but he ponders your words.

To wander and go anywhere. Just the two of you. He’s never even considered leaving Liyue even after all the demons were replaced with weak hilichurls and slimes. He gazes up at the tree’s leaves, looks further to see celestia, and even further back to his home. Guizhong always said he needed to relax and live in the moment of now rather than running past everything but was he really ready for that? 

“Ah, sorry was that a bit too forward? I really didn’t mean anything ba-”

“Yes. Let’s go,” Xiao cuts you off as his eyes shine in a new light of determination, “Wherever you want to go, I will come with you.”

You blink once, twice, before a bright grin stretch's across your face as you quickly ask if he’s joking. He’s not, and you cheer excitedly as you list off different places you’ve wanted to explore. Perhaps the shoal? Maybe even further into the chasm? Actually wait, the electro archon has closed that area off so maybe not there. Xiao patiently listens to you ramble as he smiles softly. Your excitement is addicting and he can feel his heart flutter just a bit. How long has it been since he felt this way? He can feel a small tug on his thumb, he looks down but he can’t see anything, but there’s a comfortable weight that he’s felt has been missing for a very long time.

---

If this seems interesting and people seem to enjoy it, I can post the actual fic when Xiao banner drops as a bit of a catalyst. It’s basically the same idea.  Though it’s kinda long so I have no idea when that’s going to be finished. It might turn into a thank you gift instead. (or ahem, you know, if you wanna commission me and see it earlier there’s that haha just kidding;;).

Honestly, I took a lot of liberties. I read the lore on adepti and Xiao but most of this is my monkey brain and previous semi xiao fics (which you don’t have to read but it would be helpful to see extended parts). Phew, this took a lot of time. It’s not as cute as my other fics but hopefully you all enjoyed it^^

Actually, nevermind. I hate this. I’ll keep it up since I haven’t posted this week yet but I hate this. 

[shootingstarwritings]

FEStival Fiasco

Part 2

Part 1, Prologue

You’re Gonna Carry that Weight

Before the competition, the students were given time to research the cultures of the planet they would soon infiltrate. For Centaurus, what interested him the most was the cowboy. He had obsessively watched several spaghetti westerns and read many books detailing the rugged outlaws that prowled the western United States.

To Centaurus, the cowboy embodied freedom. He was a gallant legend that wandered the land, not caring about class or even order he dispensed justice wherever he went. He proudly carried himself with his smooth-talking ways and underhanded tricks that resonated so strongly with Centaurus. At least, that was the image that Centaurus had carved into his mind. I want to be like that. Not a worm, but a cowboy.

Now, staring a real-life cowboy at one of the food stalls in the early festival hours, he found himself unable to even utter a word.

“Uh, ya see somethin’ ya like?” The man said with a carefree grin. As soon as the cowboy spoke up, Centaurus jumped in his seat. He was still in Ken’s body, but the man’s memory and charisma completely failed. Even his own natural talent fizzled out.

“Um, yeah—no, wait, shit! Didn’t mean it like that,” said Centaurus, now pointedly looking away. He couldn't recall a time when he had gotten this flustered. What was happening to him? “Forget about it, all right?”

The stall owner arched an eyebrow at the two, but she didn’t say anything. She simply served their food with a polite nod.

Centaurus meant to walk away and crawl in a hole, but the cowboy stepped right in his way. Clad in a flannel shirt and a cowboy hat, he wore both his clothes and expression with unrivaled charisma. “Howdy,” he said, carefully enunciating the word.

“H-Hey...”

“C’mon! No need to be shy. Walk with me.” Seeing no reason to decline, Centaurus allowed himself to be guided around by this man straight out of his fantasies. “Name’s Austin,” he introduced himself. “Southern boy by birth and trade. You?”

“C-Cent,” was as far Centaurus said before clamming up again.

“Cent? Funny li’l name,” Austin said with a laugh. “Cute, tho. Like, rolls off the tongue real nice.” His tongue licked his lips just the slightest bit as he spoke. Centaurus nearly melted right then and there.

“So, what caught yer eye?” said Austin.

“Oh, uh, guess… how out there you are,” Centaurus said, mentally kicking himself as the conversation drew on. He had walked into this conversation flat-footed and tumbled in just about every exchange. His heart was racing, and his whole body burned with a desire he couldn't snuff out. “You’re eye-catching, is all I can say.”

Austin leaned in, grinning as he said, “Think I’m more than that to ya. Yer startin’ to pitch a tent, y’know,” with a wink. Centaurus grit his teeth, cursing under his breath as he looked down at himself. Austin continued, saying, “C’mon, let’s get ya somewhere more discreet ‘fore security kicks ya outta this place.”

Without waiting for a response, Austin took Centaurus’ hand and dragged him away from the festival. “Don’t worry, I ain’t roomin’ with any folks,” he said, head bopping back and forth as though he was humming a song to himself. “We’ll be private.”

“I-If you say so,” said Centaurus.

They arrived soon afterward. On occasion, Centaurus caught a few stares from the various guests that ate from the continental breakfast, but he didn’t worry about that. Now he was alone in the cowboy’s room. As he sat on the foot of the bed, he noticed that there was what he figured was the scent of the great southern frontier. Austin was here for merely a day, and already his scent had marked the room.

“It’s my candle,” said Austin, excitedly gesturing to a container with a candle decorated with a tiny, smiling cowboy inside. “Friend o’ mine gave it to me ‘fore I left. Said it’d keep the ranch in my heart,” he said. “Always a romantic, that girl, bless her heart. But still, always makes these sterile rooms feel a li’l bit more like home.” Home…

“How come you left?” said Centaurus.

“Yer a noisy one, ain’tcha?” Austin said, not dropping his smile. “Guess it felt like it was high time fer me to just...travel, y’know? Spent my whole life on the ranch. Felt like I had to break away ‘n’ find m’own path. Wanted to sorta find something. Myself, maybe. Headed to this town and chatted a friend up from my childhood. Planned on goin’ to the festival together, but he got hit hard with the flu. So I walked ‘round the place, lookin’ fer somethin’ to do.”

“And that’s when you picked me up?”

Austin chuckled. “Well, wouldn’t put it like that. ‘d rather call it sweepin’ ya off yer feet, my friend.”

“And you call your friend a romantic,” Centaurus said, tittering to himself. Uneasiness long forgotten, he continued to chat away and talk with Austin until the two of them fell back onto the bed together, slowly undressing. “I’ve never done this with a cowboy before, I gotta admit.”

“Well, I ain’t just a cowboy, Cent. I’m Austin.”

Yeah, Centaurus thought, you’re Austin. What lied before him was no longer a cowboy—a character he so fondly thought of. Instead, it was a man that found him, for whatever reason, charming. “Come here,” said Centaurus, lying down on top of Austin. He could hear his heart gently beating. You’re wonderful.

Centaurus, fully nude, spread his legs. Austin first started by teasing his hole with a finger, then his tongue. “Gonna do this right,” he said in-between his tongue teases. “I ain’t gonna hurt ya. Promise.” Centaurus just nodded, trembling with anticipation. His legs quivered with just the foreplay.

However, the teasing went on for far too long. His hole, initially tingling with pleasure, now felt played with and empty. “Oh, just fuck me already,” Centaurus moaned.

“Beg a li’l more,” Austin said.

“Please, Austin. Tear me in two already.”

“Nah, nah, that ain’t want I’m lookin’ fer.” Austin raised himself and lied on top of Centaurus’ chest with a smirk on his face. “Ask me for a lovin’. Something so sweet yer tight li’l ass will never forget.”

Swallowing, Centaurus said, “Make love to me, Austin. Make me forget about my fucking life,” and Austin complied.

Austin softly whispered, “Yer moans’re so hot,” and, “cry harder for me...” as he pounded Centaurus. “So cute, Cent,” he said before groaning in pleasure as well as he sped up.

Centaurus nearly fainted as he felt Austin fuck him. “Oh, fuck,” he groaned, biting down on his knuckles. As soon as Austin said his name, he shut his eyes and allowed himself to indulge in that fantasy. There was no Ken, no competition, nothing except himself and this man who didn’t feel like a stranger anymore.

“God, fuck, yer so damn tight, Cent!” Austin cried out as he drew back and slammed into Centaurus with wild abandon. “Moan more fer me, c’mon!” he said, pumping Centaurus’ dick as he fucked him.

"Fuck me, fuck me, fuck fuck fuck! Sh-Shit, I’m cumming…!”

Austin took that opportunity to lean in and hungrily kiss Centaurus, who reciprocated. He drank in as much of Austin’s heavy pants and scent as he could. After so many times of hearing another name with a partner, it was nice to feel as though he didn’t have to pretend. He lied bare to this man who miraculously knew so little about him, and it was so liberating.

Centaurus’ midsection tightened, and then he came sticky ropes onto Austin’s chest. The two groaned into each other’s mouths as they came together.

“Maybe it’s just the high I got, but… I love yer company, Cent.”

In-between pants, Centaurus said, “I feel the same way, Austin,” and desperately wished he meant every word. He knew this had nothing to do with the mission or his desire to finally build his career, but he still wished this would last forever.

“What’s the matter, Cent? Yer lookin’ a bit down.”

“Not sure. I… I seriously don’t know.”

“Well, dunno if this makes ya feel any better but, I thought yer pretty nice company if I do say so myself,” said Austin with a small, charming smile.

However, Centaurus still thought about her. Zathina’s bitter and hateful expression remained in the back of his mind. He could still feel her shoe nearly crushing his windpipe. “You’re wasting time,” he imagined her saying with that sneer of hers. Alongside her sickening voice was the word worm over and over again like it was branded directly into his brain. “Indulging in these nonsensical things,” the voice continued, “you’re pathetic. Looks like the winner is clear. I suppose you truly are a worm after all.”

“Kiss me,” said Centaurus.

“Hmm?” Austin hummed, surprised at his sudden interruption.

Not waiting for an answer, Centaurus wrapped an arm around Austin’s neck and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss. “Mmm, mmm!” Austin didn’t initially fight back until he felt something slipping in through his mouth.

Centaurus disconnected himself from Ken’s brain, leaving behind some toxic behind, and quickly slithered into Austin’s open, vulnerable mouth. Eventually, Austin pushed an unconscious Ken off, but it was already too late. The alien was already making its way through his mouth and into his brain. Austin tried to grab at the alien, but he failed to get a grasp. He fell back onto the bed and began to convulse as pleasure and fear overrode his entire body.

Switching host was always a dizzying experience for Centaurus. Not only because looking at his host body disoriented him with the raping changing of faces, but because there remained a little bit of himself in them.

“Wake up,” Centaurus commanded Ken. Wordlessly, Ken sat up in the bed. “Go home to your partner. Don’t even look at me.” Ken nodded and began to leave. “Put your clothes on first! Animal...”

For all members of his kind, the toxic vanishes from the host after about 20 minutes. Ken would be back to normal with little recollection of what he did. The experience that Ken went through would be forgotten. Same with Austin when Centaurus eventually left. Even if by some twist of fate they crossed paths again, Centaurus would be the only one left with that moment in his memories.

He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and saw no trace of the man that he shared that tender moment with. No matter how much Centaurus tried to laugh, frown, or even cry, he could no longer see Austin anymore. All that the mirror reflected was a worm pretending to be a man. He was alone.

[thewritingginger]

More Daddy AU please 🥺 the rest of the boys deserve it. Plus imagine telling Luke he's going to be a godparent, that'd be the cutest little moment I just can't-

Undateables React: Baby?!?

I have to say I’m so glad you mentioned something for Luke cuz idk how long it would’ve taken me, if I even did one for him, cuz he baby himself lol

So here's our other boys! I admit IDK how well or satisfying these are considering I don’t know them too too well. 

bUt I hope they are still enjoyable 😅

Fandom: Obey Me! Pairing(s): Undateables Word count: 1,070 words Warning(s): Pregnancy

Enjoy ~

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Diavolo:

YAAAASSSS!!!

But really, he just laughs triumphantly when you tell him

Is happy about having an heir but is slightly worried for you

“This wasn’t planned and I want to make sure you’re happy.”

Buys you anything and everything that you wish for or need

Late night talks about your future child

When you’d ask what he wants the baby to be he would just respond with “As long as it’s part of you, I don’t mind either way.”

But you know what he wants

And to his pleasure, You and Diavolo have a baby Boy!

The moment he’s out Diavolo turns into Rafiki from the lion king

So proud of the work you had done

Praises you till you have to shut him up

After you’ve gone to bed he spends his first real night as a father holding his son, whispering praise and sentiments of love

You wake up many mornings to see your little one resting gently on his big tiddies chest

Barbatos :

Was a bit taken aback

Not that you being pregnant is bad news just unexpected

Tells Diavolo as soon as you let him

“I have to report this to Lord Diavolo, I wouldn’t want him to think I'm just being careless and negligible with my work because I’m taking care of you.”

Once he informs Diavolo of your condition, he wastes not time in developing a schedule for himself that not only allowed him to sufficiently do his duties with Diavolo but also make time for you and your care

In your later months he waits on you, hand and foot (literally! Helps you put your shoes on every morning)

Has tea with you each day (only herbal or ones w/no caffeine in them obviously) with cakes and sandwiches (or anything you’re craving)

You and Barbatos have a baby Girl!

Doesn’t show it but is SO excited

Very reserved about it but you know he adores taking his little girl into work with him when you’re too busy to watch her

You walked into the kitchen one day to pick her up and over heard him talking to your daughter as he was making up lunch

“Do you want papa to make you something special for lunch?”

He coos to your child more often than he’d admit to

Not that he doesn’t want others to think he doesn’t love his daughter, just he has a professional image to uphold that doesn’t stop Diavolo from saying anything tho lol

Simeon:

The Angel hugs you feeling elated but couldn't help but feel a bit guilty

Worried that you may be upset with him because this child wasn’t planned and you weren’t married (not that he’d force you but did ask if that’d make you feel more comfortable and secure)

Once you explained that although you were nervous, you were glad it was with him he relaxed a bit

“I will make you and this child the happiest people in all the 3 worlds!”

In actuality you being pregnant didn’t really change your relationship that much

Simeon was always a gentleman and very caring

Open doors, pulls out your chair, all that jazz

But you did notice a slight change in the way he looked at you

Not a loving gaze cuz he always had that it was more of a mixture of deep thought and bliss

When you’d ask him why he was looking at you he just responded with “It’s just you’re gifting me something I’ll never be able to repay you for.” He says it as if that wont melt your fucking heart

You and Simeon have a baby Girl!

Is very torn.

He thought you were the love of his life and the only girl he needs but… now there's her

Of course he still loves you but… her!

Always watches over her. While she plays. While she eats. Especially while she sleeps.

“Baby, you have to come to bed.” “I will, just 5 more minutes.”

Wonders what he did to be so blessed

Luke:

GoDfaThEr?!? PrEgNanT?!? BaBy?!?

“Who? When? How?... wait don’t tell me how.”

Poor babe is very confuzzled

Regardless of the father, angel or demon, this little dog is very protective of you and your unborn child

Will bake you any treats you want

Luke is the proud godfather to a baby Girl!

Stressed even more

“GUH! I’ll make sure no one touches her!”

Mighty Chihuahua Activated! 

As she got older he would teach her about angelic work, what rules to follow and about the angel Michael while he watched her

He also made sure he did things like bake and play cuz he’s ‘fun too!’

As she got older he was still watchful but backed off when she asked him to poor guy sulked the first time it happened

Solomon:

You tell him when you’re on a study date

You couldn’t help it, it just came out

When you told him he seemed taken aback then started laughing, less like Diavolo, and more so like you said a joke

But realized you were being serious when you didn’t laugh along

“Wait you’re serious? I put a spawn in you?”

After talking for a bit it was fine

He actually took the news quite well, you’d think you just told him about the weather or something

“What’s there to worry about. No going back now, what's the worst that’ll happen.”

Took care of you during the pregnancy

Made you tonics for nausea or any other symptoms that are causing you discomfort  

You and Solomon have a baby Boy

You already expected this but he is sorta the “cool dad” so to speak

Super chill but don’t get it twisted he’ll still throw down for his kid

The moment you recognize signs of magic in your little boy Solomon jumps on that in a heartbeat

You had to have a very serious conversation with him about that

“If I let you teach him you better keep him safe. And NO explosive or reactatory spells.” “Don’t worry about a thing baby. I understand.” you didn’t buy he’ll follow your rules and... you’d be right smh

One day when your son was about 6 you see a cloud of smoke coming from under a door. When you opened it you saw Solomon and your son, hair sticking up, covered in soot. Yeah Solomon knew he was in for a ‘talk’ rip

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thank you again for reading and requesting :)

We stan baby daddy AUs lol

I hope to keep slowly getting my millions of wips done. I am in school and the quarter is ending in the next month so yeah 

Till next post my loves :3

💛 ~

[y2katsuki]

you changed me

angst angst but also traitor!y/n  :o i also left the quirk part empty, so you could envision any quirk you want to have 

word count: 2124

“You will go in, collect and report.  Nothing more, nothing less.  Fail and you do not see tomorrow.”

“Yes, father.”

Father stood tall, his 7′1 figured your 5′5 figured.  You learned from day one that you were born to be a pawn, not to be loved.  Looking straight, lifeless, your father placed his hands on your shoulders before leaning to say something before he left.

“I blessed you with some of the All For One, use it wisely.  You have always been a fast and smart learner.  Don’t fail me.”

You woke up gasping.  Covered in sweat.  A hand crept up, gently pulling you into a hug.  You look up to see the blonde boy.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.  I’m here.”  He soothes you.  You hug onto him.  Just close your eyes tightly. 

The day is upon.  The day, your father and his league will come.  A day that is supposed to be the happiest moment, graduation.  You came into U.A. as a regular student, meant to collect and observe the upcoming heroes.  That was your mission, nothing else.  However, something did happen.  Emotions and feelings happened.  Being trapped with brats for a couple of years, when you had no exposure to people, is overwhelming.  Your father would tell you to detach from any sorta feelings, it will only obstruct goals.  He never showed any emotions as he beat up down to build you up to the perfect pawn.  He never calculated how being with others during a period of emotions will affect you.  After all, you are still a kid.

“I’m okay.  I just...it’s an old memory now.  It’s okay because you are here.”  You sadly smile. 

Love.  Love was a scary emotion you experienced.  The only emotion you experience was fear.  So when your heart tightens, skipped a beat, or felt full, you thought you were dying.  Only to find out that these feelings were love.  You were in love with the angry boy in class 1-A, Bakugou Katsuki.  He was first a rival, a strong one.  You observed him and his childhood friend until you realized that your eyes only followed the explosions.

“I will always be here, dumbass.  I know I don’t say it much, but you are truly the person I care and love for.”  He squeezed you.  Your guilty eats you up.

“I love you too.  I just want to be with you tonight, please.  Last day as students, am I right?”  You bury your face into his chest and he laughs.  The two of you lay.

Bakugou sleeps, as you lay restless.  You slid out quietly before putting on some shoes.  You walk the halls of the dorm, in taking everything.  Might as well, you will be dead tomorrow.  Walking to the places that you and Bakugou spent time at.  Where you built memories, became friends with others, and more.  Never realizing that tears started to flow out.  So this is sadness, extreme sadness.

Tomorrow One For All will come.  When the heroes will least expect it.  You didn’t want to go, you didn’t want to help him.  You wanted to stay with your friends and boyfriend.  With the people who loved and accept you.  You also didn’t want to die without apologizing and giving an explanation to those you loved.  Even if they decide to forgive you, you know that One For All will hunt you down, troubling everyone.

“So he will be here tomorrow.”  Lifting your head, seeing All Might, in his smaller form.

“Y-yeah.  I-I don’t know....wh-what to do?”  You cried.

All Might had found you out after the sports festival.  He recognized that quirk anywhere.  His enemy, All For One.  You couldn’t hide it anymore.  The guilty was finally eating you whole.  You told him everything.  You told him how you didn’t want to do it.  That you had grown to love everyone.  He listened.  He couldn’t blame you.  A child, born to be a pawn.  Instead, he hugged you.  Told you that he would take care of it.  That you will get to live old with your classmates, happily.  After some time, you and All Might when to a private room to talk.

“There are only two options.  I die in my father's hands or...I will be arrested and hate by those I love.  To be quite frank, dying is not a bad option.” You spoke after calming down.

“You won’t be arrested, I will protect you.”  

“Yeah, but everyone I love will hate me.  I-I don’t want that.  Especially Bakugou.  Dying not that bad, I won’t have to deal with him.  But...I do want to leave something for everyone.”  Reaching into your pocket, you pull out a crumpled up letter.  “After everything, whether I die in his hands or lose everyone.  Please give them this letter, if they are willing to listen to anything I said.”  You hand the letter, you struggled to write for the last few days, to him.

All-day Bakugou asked if you were okay, saying you looked pale and sick.  You told him it just because you are nervous about the ceremony and sad that this was the last day all of your classmates will be together.  You were on edge.  There was nothing to do but go with your father, to avoid any of your friends to get hurt.  You could feel the air grow colder.

It happened in a flash.  People screaming, loud sounds.  Villains.  The only word that you could hear from the screams.  The class and pro-heroes spring to action, running towards the commotion and helping people get somewhere safe.  You see everything in slow motion before feel Yaoyorozu grabs your hand.

“Let’s go Y/N!  We have to help.”

The two of you running to the action, seeing the pro-heroes fighting off the villains.  You spot All Might, before running towards him.  Before reaching him, you were knocked down.  You look up to see the youngest member, Toga Himiko.

“It’s been a while y/n.”  She bends down to your level, smiling.  “Time to go home.”

You strike her.  She looked surprised, before getting instance to fight you.  She laughs, the reason why clicking quickly in her mind.  She runs towards you, with her knife ready in her hand.  You dodge before kicking her down. 

“Don’t tell me you pity these heroes.  That gold coming from you!”  She screams while taking jabs at you.  You grab her wrist twisting it, her weapon falling.  Twisting her around, pushing your knee in her back, and pinning her down.  

“You know nothing about me.” 

Looking up, you see All Might struggling with your father.  You get up, leaving a laughing Toga on the ground.  With All For One back towards you, you charge up your quick.  Taking a chance to land a hit on him.  He looked back and sees you there.

“Ah, there you are.”  All Might stands next to you.  Everyone’s eyes moving towards.  “You are making this harder than it should be y/n.”  The villains back away, retreating to One For All side.

“I won’t allow you, to hurt my friends.”

“We didn’t drag them into this, you did.”  His hand reached down to grab you.  You were frozen in fear, remembering that he is still more powerful than you and he could easily kill you and your friends without a second thought.

All Might aims for a hit, to protect you, only for your father to avoid it.  Sending All Might a distance away.  You look in total fear.  You see all your classmates and heroes look at you.  Until your eyes meet Bakugou’s.

“Y-y/n.  Come here.”  He said, voice shaking.  Your heart breaking in the process.

“She won’t.”  You feel the presence of your father behind you.  “We don’t want to fight you heroes, we just came to collect something that belongs to us.”  His hands fall on your shoulders.  The looks of your classmates and teachers scared you more than death.

“I-It’s not true!  R-right....y/n.”  Bakugou stepped up.

“I’m s-sorry Katsuki.”  His face made you want to die.  “I-I had too, b-but you guys changed me.  You changed me.  I want to fight along with you.  That’s why I will prove it.”  You felt a flame ignite inside you.

You wanted to at least have the chance to prove that you choose them.  You chose to change.  You want to try to prove that your feelings were real.  Your quirk started to flare up, as your emotions got stronger.  You grab onto your father hand, that laid on you should before turning to place a hit.  You abruptly stopped, your hand being a few centimeters away from his chest.  You look down, seeing the open wounds on your abdominal region.  You let a shaky breath out before looking up to meet your father’s eyes.  For the first time ever, you see your father’s eyes, lifeless, and no emotion.

“Worthless.”  Was the only word he said, before dropping you.  Your vision started to darken, your body getting colder.  You watched has your father and his league leave.  Your arm reached out towards him.

You feel a nudge, slowly turning your head over.  All Might tried to apply pressure on your wounds.  His mouth moving but nothing is coming out.  You then see your classmate approach you, Bakugou coming closer to your darken vision.

“I-I tri-tried...” Was the only thing you could mutter.

“Kid, I’m so sorry, I thought I could protect you.”  All Might look at you, knowing you were slipping.

“Can I?”  All Might looks up to see Bakugou.  He nodded, as he backed away.  Bakugou falls onto his knees, placing his hand on the wound.  You grab his hand.

“I’m sorry.  I wanted to tell you every day...I wa-wanted you all to know how you c-changed me....”  You couldn’t finish due to coughing up blood.

“Stop talking dumbass.  Focus on living.”  Bakugou’s watery eyes meet your dull ones.

You slowly reach into your pocket.  Grabbing the letter you wanted to give Bakugou before leaving.  You shakily pass it to him.  You take his hand again, and with your last breath, you spoke your last words.

“I love you, you changed me for the better.  Now go and become the best hero...”  

Bakugou’s tears flow out, as your eyes lose the last bit of light.  He screamed your name, as the medic team covered your body and took you away.  Kirishima and Deku grabbing Bakugou, stopping him from trying to hold you from everyone.

It’s been nearly a month since your death.  Bakugou looks at the letter, that is still covered in your blood, you left.  Never once opened it, until today.

Dear Katsuki,

If you are reading this, I have either left or died.  You probably already know the truth.  Let me start from the beginning.  I was originally born and raised to be a pawn for my father, the plan was for me to collect information and report it back.  I had nothing to live for, no meaning in my life.  My father took all hope and meaning in my life.  That was until I meet you.  You arrogant, mean, and loud idiot, gave me a reason to live my life.  Being at this school gave me a lot of first.  My first time having fun, having emotions, having memories, and having my first love.  

Now, I want to apologize.  Every day the guilt ate me, it killed me.  Every day I wanted to tell you everything, but the thought of you hating me was worse than death.  Maybe dying isn’t so bad?  I’m not good at expressing my emotions.  However my love for you, I could write you a book.  I won’t bore you with my word though.

Katsuki Bakugou, I love you so much.  I love to see you smile and be a softie when no one is around.  I love being the big spoon, even though you won’t admit that you love being the small spoon.  I love your ambition to be the best hero ever.  I love everything about you.  Even if you cannot forgive me, I want you to know that everything I felt for you was real.  My feeling for you was never fake, it was the most real thing I have ever felt.

I love you so much.

-Y/N

Bakugo finally lets the tears he has held in since your death.  He hugged the letter close to his heart.

“Dumbass, of course, I forgive you.  I love you too.  Watch me become the number one hero.”  He spoke to the framed picture of you two, that sat next to his bed.  He laughs, as his tears stain his face.

[bittercoldbrew]

Okay, so technically To Build Something New is complete and finished and I’m totally not even supposed to be working on it anymore, but this has been a shitty week and I decided to write a little something sweet and then I sort of got....carried away........ So yeah anyway, here’s a little over 4k of Ezra x f!OC, a sorta kinda epilogue to Build Something but I tried to leave things vague so it could also just be read as a standalone. No warnings, just an embarrassing amount of fluff. Enjoy! (pssst, also, I ended up writing a follow-up to this, which you can find here)

Sleep has never come easily to him. Even as a child, Ezra remembers being plagued with nightmares so often and for so long that he wouldn’t even bother waking his worn and weary parents, would simply fetch himself a cup of water from the kitchen and flip through his favorite books, gazing at the pictures and tracing fingers over words he couldn’t yet read, until sleep finally returned to him.

The woman in bed beside him is no stranger to such restlessness, and certainly is no distant, frightful parent best left unbothered. If he were to reach out a hand to her shoulder, if he were to call her name, he knows that she would wake willingly, eager to help him talk his way out of whatever trouble his overactive mind has conjured, or to simply sit with him in silence until the tension passed; she would give him whatever he needs, even if he himself doesn't know what that is just yet. It is no lack of love, given or received, that stills his hand and shuts his mouth, but rather an abundance.

Her thoughts are scarcely any kinder to her sleep schedule than his, and these past few months since her parents came and tried to upend the life she's built have not been easy ones. She certainly owes as profound a debt to the god of sleep as he does, and he simply cannot bring himself to disturb her now that she's begun to repay it.

With a sigh, he eases himself out from under her arm and up from the bed, moving slow and careful, as quiet as he can manage, trying not to feel too guilty at the sad, soft noise she makes and the way she curls her arm back into herself with the loss. Some nights, he’s more than content to lay awake beside her even if sleep never decides to make another appearance, grateful for her presence, trying and failing, always, to twist and turn his thoughts into a shape that will allow him to believe this luck that has brought him to her side. But tonight he just needs...to stretch his legs, to move his body, to remind himself that it is, still, somehow, his body, despite all that it has lost. Despite all that it has found.

He moves to the bathroom, passes through it out into the hall, hoping the added distance will prevent the sound of the door from waking the woman asleep in the bed they share. In the darkness, in the quiet, he runs a hand over his face, grounding himself with the familiar sensation of the planes and slopes of his own features. Still his face. Still his hand, even if he only has the one of them, now.

It seems instinctual, the way his feet carry him to the door across the hall, the way his ear finds itself pressed to the cool wood. He won’t bother her, won’t risk disturbing the sleep of the teenager inside, but the low whisper of the white noise machine that he can hear is enough of a comfort. Cee adjusted to planet life far faster and more completely than he has yet to manage; but even though the members of this little family all came from such disparate backgrounds, they are bound together by the act of having chosen one another, as well as by their shared insomnolent tendencies. The teenager needs this facsimile of the rumble of a ship’s engines to be able to achieve anything like sleep. Ezra himself has attempted the same, but found the noise only gave his brain something to latch onto, a reason to stay wakeful and wary, a stark contrast to its intended purpose.

Hearing hers, though, is reassurance enough that the girl is having a better night’s rest than he is, and he is grateful for that small blessing as he leans away from the door and sidles down the hallway on quiet, bare feet, mindful of all the places that creak, mapped out in his muscle memory over the course of many such nights. He crosses the front room, passes through the kitchen, until finally he steps out onto the back porch and into the cold, clear night.

The sky out here, so far from the city center, is resplendent in its beauty, a breathtaking array of stars and galaxies. Despite his many far-flung travels, there are still so many worlds to visit, still so much to see, and he will never grow weary of the sight.

It's a little too cold for stargazing, especially dressed as he is in nothing more than a patched and faded pair of boxers; but the way the air prickles against his skin and in his lungs feels almost refreshing, for now at least. It makes his racing thoughts feel sluggish, and that is certainly worth a little chill.

Sighing, he steps forward and leans against the railing, letting his eyes trace out distant constellations and star systems, scrolling through his mental catalogue of those he's visited and those he has yet to. He's picking out the faint whorl of the Ephrate when he hears the door slide open, and a sweet and sleepy voice asks, "Ezra..?"

He should have known his absence would be enough to wake her. The woman he loves is the galaxy’s most notorious blanket thief, after all; even now, the evidence of her crimes is wrapped around her like a cloak, the excess fabric bunched in her hands and clutched against her collar. Often, it’s only the warmth of his body in the bed beside her that keeps her from descending into wanton lawlessness—or, at the very least, a sleeplessness of her own. It is a rare night indeed that he can leave her side for much longer than it takes to visit the bathroom and return, before the chill is enough to wake her.

She steps forward, head down, eyes scarcely open and only to keep herself from tripping over the blanket as she draws near and leans her body heavily against his. He wraps his arm around her back and does his best to hug her close with only the one, trying not to feel so profoundly guilty at the thought of how difficult it must be for her to sleep when he’s gone so long for work.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into her hair—an apology for tonight, and also for all those nights she spends without him.

But she only shakes her head, resting her cheek against his bare chest, just below his collarbone. She stands so tall and imperious in his mind’s eye that he forgets, sometimes, how little she is, and he is grateful for moments like these to remind him.

Her voice is thick with sleep, her breath warm against his skin, as she asks, simply, “Chocolate?”

He sighs and holds her closer, wondering if he knows a single word that might be able to encapsulate how it feels to be loved by her. Beloved feels too pedestrian, too obvious. Cherished, maybe. Harbored.

He needs to consider the possibilities more carefully, but later. For now, he merely shakes his head, begrudgingly declining her generous offer. “No, I’m alright. Just needed a minute, clear my head.”

She hums softly, and the gentle vibration of it against his chest feels planet-shaking in this quiet night. “Already put it on,” she admits slowly, sounding only marginally more awake than a moment ago. “Drink some anyway?”

Sustained? Is that the word? “With you? Of course.”

The wordless noise she makes in response is pleased, contented, and for several long, precious moments she merely rests against him and lets him hold her in the dark, unhurried and unafraid in his presence.

She’s so still for so long that he notices the slight movement of her cheek, the twitch that means she’s had to blink away a notification from her optical implant, the timer she must have set for the milk warming on the stove.

“I’ll get it—” he starts to offer, eager for some way to repay her kindness, but she moves quicker than he imagined she’d be capable of right now, pulling away and whirling the blanket off her shoulders and around his with a flourish.

“No,” she declares, in that tone of voice that always makes his brain go silent and his body stand to attention, willing to do whatever she requires of him without question. But the only order she gives is, “Keep this warm for me,” passing the corners of the fabric into his grasp, and he is certain to obey as she turns and heads back inside to the kitchen.

With a sigh, Ezra takes a step back and rests against the wall of the house, hiking the blanket up a little higher as he waits for her return. He finds himself wishing Aphelia had a moon, something to make the nights a little brighter than this; the lack gives them such a clear, glorious view of all the stars and a few of the other planets in this system, so he supposes he shouldn’t complain. But it would be nice to be able to see the garden from here, to make out what birds those are calling such sweet songs among the trees at the edge of the property, to better decipher the nuance of his partner’s expression when she steps back outside a few minutes later with two mugs of cocoa in her hands.

It requires a good deal of shuffling and muttered apologies, but eventually they find themselves sitting together on the floor of the porch, propped against the wall, the blanket drawn across them both, sheltering them from the chill of metal sheeting at their backs. She is nestled at his side beneath what remains of his right arm, and she rests her head on his shoulder as they both lift mugs to their lips.

He makes an indisputably better cup of coffee—mainly because she is too impatient in the morning, content to throw a packet of bland, dehydrated nonsense into hot water if it means she can be caffeinated quicker, only willing to wait for something better if it’s Ezra who does the brewing. But her hot chocolate is a wonder, a marvel, worthy of all possible veneration, and even though he’s watched her make it time and time again, he has never managed to determine what it is she does to make it so spectacular. The beverage in his hand tonight is perfectly warm, nutty and aromatic, decadent and sweet without being cloying, with just a hint of spice. One sip, and he can feel whatever this restlessness is that’s been holding him in its vice begin to ebb away into a gentle sleepiness.

“Thank you, starlight,” he sighs, and he hopes she knows that he means all of it—not just for the chocolate, but for the blanket and the company and the understanding, for her willingness to love him with this love that encompasses all of his very many faults rather than existing in spite of them.

She doesn’t say anything in response, simply turns her head and presses a feather-light kiss to the side of his neck, and he feels certain that she does know. Especially when she turns back, and gestures with her mug in the direction of the sky. “It’s a hell of a view. Thanks for not letting me miss it.”

His breath leaves him in a rush, and he rests his cheek against the top of her head, feeling bowled over by his affection for her. That hadn’t remotely been his intention, and even if he had merely wanted her to see the stars, she could get just as lovely a view from bed, through the skylight, without having to shiver out here on the cold floor with him. But he loves that she would offer this pretense, that she would look at something he’d done to stave off his idiotic insomnia and turn it into an experience for the two of them to share.

Transformed, perhaps, is what her love makes him. Because he isn’t entirely sure who this man is that he’s become, or where all this sappiness came from. He certainly had no need for it on the Green, nor in any part of his life before he first answered the siren song of aurelac.

If he’s honest with himself, though, he’d begun to see the first signs of it before he even met her, before he endured the loss of his dominant arm and thus found himself needing to rely, from time to time, upon the kindness of others. He’d noticed it in his unwillingness to leave Number Two behind after the rest of the crew split and ran; and then again when he’d first met Cee, when she’d used up the single capacitor of that old Boscelot rifle and he, who had killed so very many times before, had been wholly unable to throw a shot her way.

His lover had seen right through him from the first, had detected those loose threads in his psyche, those barest hints of a gentleness he’d long stifled. She had tugged and pulled them loose, had unraveled the cold and unfeeling shell that he constructed around himself, until all that was left was just...him. Minus an arm, and a good portion of his dignity, and any belief he’d once had in his ability to command his own fate.

And she had looked at whatever was leftover after all that loss, and had chosen to love him anyway.

“Oh, look,” she gasps, and he straightens up and follows her gaze, finding the trail of light streaking up from the horizon, a distant ship clearing the atmosphere.

“Leaving from the 12th Sector docks, I reckon,” he tells her absently, his brain automatically calculating the distance and direction for him while he simply takes a long draught of his quickly-cooling cocoa. “Where d’you think they’re headed?”

She hums thoughtfully, brow creasing in thought, her eyes tracing the arc of their ascent and extending upward. He’s been trying to teach her and the kid—trying to not be a pedantic asshole about it—how to find landmarks in the night sky, how to navigate by constellations and planets and stations. Mostly, he’s just trying to teach them how to keep themselves safe if, Kevva forbid, he ever isn’t around to do the job. Not that he thinks them lacking in competence—each of his girls is cleverer than him by half, he knows that, and together they leave him in the dust. But this, at least, is a skill of his that they do not share, and he hopes to impart a little something of it, just in case they ever need it.

“From 12, at that angle, this late in the year...” she says slowly, thinking aloud. “I bet they’re headed for the Pug.”

“I bet you’re right,” he agrees, grinning. “Do you see it?”

She narrows her eyes, an adorable little pout to her lips as she looks for it; her natural eye’s a little farsighted, but her implant is designed for close work and magnification, and he knows that discrepancy means this sort of thing doesn’t come easy for her. But that just makes it all the sweeter, when she gasps and smiles and points and says, “There it is.”

He just sits there, staring at her and the way the starlight dances in her eyes and highlights the lines of her face, for so long that she turns to him with a curious—and then bashful—look on her face.

“Hey,” she scolds, nudging him with her elbow. “Tell me I’m right.”

“You’re right,” he says automatically, and she scoffs and elbows him again. With a laugh, he tears his gaze from her and turns to look. “Sorry, sorry. Show me again?”

She does so, and he leans in close, following the line of her arm and her outstretched finger to the familiar, pulsing glow of Puggart’s Bench. “There?”

He dips his head, presses a kiss to the skin of her arm, just past the end of the short sleeve of her sleep shirt (one of his shirts, initially, though at this point she doesn’t sleep in anything else and he’d be offended if she did). “Perfect,” he tells her—because she’s correct, yes, but also because she is perfect, in his estimation.

She smiles in a way that makes him think she understands his double meaning, and says, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says, and kisses her, and her mouth tastes like chocolate, and he doesn’t imagine there’s anything better in all the universe.

But then she lifts a hand to curl along his jaw and the tips of her fingers are like ice, and he pulls back in surprise and sets his mug carefully aside so he can grab her hand and hold it in front of his mouth and breathe a little heat against her fingers.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were freezing, baby?”

"I'm not," she argues, even as she curls closer into the warmth of his body and tugs the blanket tighter around her shoulders, because she is, at her core, a woman of unmitigated stubbornness. "My hands are just always cold."

"Not this cold," he huffs, clenching the offending fingers in his own. "We should get you inside."

She shakes her head sternly. "I can stay out here as long as you want me to."

She has told him this before, way back when they scarcely even knew each other. Then, as now, she had been struggling to keep her eyes open. Then, as now, he had known she meant every word.

"What I want," he tells her, turning to kiss her temple, speaking the words into her skin, "is to hold you in bed for a while."

If he's honest, that's all he ever seems to want these days.

She smiles, and nods toward his mug, reaching for her own. "Finish your cocoa, first," she says, as though that is the entire reason they're out here.

And he does—because it's delicious and he doesn't want to waste it; because it's what she told him to do.

He would give her his left arm, the only one he has remaining, if she told him to.

They sit there, quiet and close, while he finishes his drink and waits patiently as she finishes hers. Then, leaning on each other for support, they make their way to their feet and back inside the house. He keeps the blanket around his body as she rinses their empty mugs and leaves them in the sink, then trails along behind her as she leads him back to their room.

Together they spread the blanket back overtop of the bed, tucking it in at the foot even though they both know she’ll have managed to drag it to her side by morning. Smiling at the thought, Ezra pulls up the covers and gets in, instinctively turning over on his right to reach for her—but she isn’t there yet, still standing next to the bed, watching him. It’s too dark to really make out her expression, but he can feel her eyes on him. “Baby?”

She doesn’t speak, just goes and walks around the bed. He turns, twisting at the waist to watch her as she lifts up the covers and...slips in behind him. She puts her arm around his chest, twines her legs with his, moves her free hand up to bury her fingers in his hair and scritch lightly against his scalp, and he groans out her name and all but melts back into her soft body.

“Is this okay?” she asks after a moment, her breath fanning against the back of his neck. He wants to answer, to tell her this is so, so much better than merely okay, but his chest has gone so tight that all the air in his lungs seems to have lodged in his throat instead. He settles for a nod, the drag of her short fingernails on the back of his head just delicious with the movement, and he knows she must be tired and will need to be asleep soon but he wishes she never had to stop.

“I know you said you wanted to hold me,” she murmurs, her voice so soft and sweet, “but I thought this might be...nice.”

“I...” he starts—or tries to, but his voice falters, and all the words he typically can rely on appear to have fled him. “Yes,” he sighs simply. “It’s very nice.”

“Good.” Her lips press a delicate kiss to his shoulder, and his breath leaves him with more of a shudder than he’d intended. “You gonna be able to sleep?”

He covers her hand with his and draws it up higher along his chest, where her fingers gently trace the line of scar tissue just below his sternum. “I hope so,” is the best answer he can offer, because even though he feels so fucking good being held by her like this and even though he can feel the exhaustion tugging him even deeper into the mattress, he knows better than to count on his mind to be cooperative.

She hums softly, and he can feel the bridge of her nose and the curve of her forehead against the skin of his back as she presses her face against him, settling in. “Okay,” she breathes, and he can tell she’s nearly asleep again already, can merely hope he’ll join her shortly. “Wake me if you get up again, okay?”

“You have work in the morning,” he reminds her, squeezing her hand, already feeling guilty for disrupting her rest as much as he has. His schedule isn’t nearly so demanding—he could stay in bed all day if he needs to, could make up the hours some other time—but she has people who rely on her, people who aren’t him.

But she just clicks her tongue against her teeth dismissively, shakes her head. Her fingers leave his hair for a dreadful moment, but only so she can reach down and tug the covers up higher (already beginning her nightly larceny, though she’s pressed so close to him that Ezra, too, may get to benefit from it tonight). “I’d rather be tired at work than not know where you are.”

It’s a simple thing to say, but he knows how much she means by it. He’s well aware of the anxieties that plague her, of the way she worries when he’s gone, of how his job and its need to drag him far away from her for long stretches of time wears at her until he’s with her again. As much as he wishes he could make all of that go away, wishes he could offer her a gentler life than this one, he knows such a thing isn’t really possible out here in the Fringe, knows they’ve come much closer than most. Still, at least he can offer her this.

He picks up her hand and lifts it to his lips, presses kisses to her smooth, soft skin. “Go to sleep, starlight. I’m not going anywhere.”

“‘Kay,” she murmurs sleepily, and he can feel her smile against his back as she shifts around, tightening her arm around him, hugging him close. “Love you, Ez.”

“Love you too, sweet girl.”

In the morning, when she wakes, he is going to make her the best goddamn cup of coffee she’s ever tasted. He will swaddle her in blankets, will weight her down with so many of them she can’t ever leave their bed, she’ll have to just stay in it with him forever. He wonders how inappropriate it would be for him to ask Cee if she would spend the night at a friend’s tomorrow, because when this woman gets home from work he’s going to need to lavish every inch of her body with affection, to prove to her again and again and again how desperately he loves her, how thoroughly he needs her, and he doesn’t imagine he’ll be able to be quiet about it even with the kid home.

It’s in these last lucid moments before sleep finally pulls him under that he realizes this night, this moment, this blissful press of her body along the length of his own with her arm curled possessively around his torso is exactly the word he's been looking for. Maybe it really is as simple as that: she makes him feel held.

[prinxlyart]

God bless ya for providing your perfect takes on Willumity! If anyone hasn't beaten me to it, I would like to ask your headcanon on how their relationship would start, and how do you think thwir children would be! Oh, and on another ship, how you think Boschlow would unfold?

My heart is too full for this, I need to dump it all out into this post

Hmmm, their relationship could start any number of ways. I don’t have a favorite that I can pull from my imagination. My sad angsty polyamorous heart wants there to be a lot of sad tension between all of them (Willow is upset because she can clearly see that Luz and Amity like each other, why would either of them pay attention to her?? // Amity is upset because Luz was able to befriend Willow so easily and so quickly and they were immediately affectionate with one another on the first day they met. They deserve to be happy together without Amity ruining it or having her overbearing last name hanging over them. // Luz is upset because she’s helped Willow and Amity rekindle their broken friendship and watched it blossom into potentially something more?? She’s so scared she’s going to be left behind again. She’s had friends in the past that ditched her once they became closer to one another. Luz is downright terrified that it’s going to happen again. ) [projecting?????? Whose projecting I’m not projecting]

I feel like if anything, the dam would break what with all these unresolved romantic feelings bearing down on them all. I don’t know who would break first, but whoever she broke in front of would let her know she needs to speak to the other two about it ASAP. Because if worse comes to worst, they’ll gently reject you and insist you all remain friends. None of them would break off their friendships with one another due to unreciprocated feelings.

Once they do sit down and confess their feelings for one another they all just. Start crying in utter relief. They don’t have to lose anyone, and even better, they like me back.

RE: Kids? I have no idea. I’ve never been one for fan kids much, I usually leave that to others and appreciate it when someone makes one I actually like. I think the only thoughts I’d have on them having kids would be that these three would be the Most Supportive Parents in the world with an even more supportive network of grandparents. Like. Any kids they have will be adored so much they might accidentally smother the poor thing(s).

I feel like Luz and Willow would insist they have more than one kid (if they do decide to have kids). Neither of them have siblings and grew up rather lonely as a result. They don’t want that for any kids they might raise. Amity is only a little reluctant to agree because she grew up with Edric and Emira, but ultimately agrees with her wives that that would be best.

Oh, and family gatherings at holidays would be so fucking chaotic oh my god. They either need to enlist the help of someone in the construction coven to expand a portion of their house or consider renting out a public space if they all say they’re going to come because there’s just so many people. Absolute Chaos. Luz adores the family gatherings because she always wanted to be part of a big family and now she is.

They tend to stress Amity out only because of the amount of planning and cooking to be done, but ultimately ends up enjoying herself (it’s still weird to see her parents attend these gatherings and playing with her children and wait- did dad just sneak her some of the dessert?!?! UGH, she’ll be awake for hours thanks dad).

Willow also loves the family gatherings but gets easily overwhelmed by the amount of people in attendance. She’s the one that would go one by one with everyone that came and just spend some time with them, catching up until the conversation naturally flows to the next person. She has now idea how Luz can ping pong off the walls with the energy she does, but she’s always admired that about Luz. It also tickles her heart and makes her feel warm and fuzzy inside whenever Luz’s pinballing ends up aimed at her because Luz will always put both hands on Willow’s shoulders, give her a kiss on the cheek and check in with her. Once they’ve confirmed they’re both doing okay, Luz will kiss her cheek again and kinda nuzzle their heads together before she’s off to talk with someone else. Luz does the same thing with Amity and even still after all these years, it reduces Amity to a blushing mess. Anyone around that witnesses it either coos at how cute they are or gags at the display of affection (take your pick at who lol).

You can’t just ask me to switch gears right in the middle of domestic fluff and just rewind way back to potential Boschlow stuff oh man. Let’s see....I personally am a huge proponent of Boscha getting her act together, not related to her feelings for anyone, before she tries to pursue Willow. Whether or not Willow is part of the process of her changing for the better can be up to you. But Boscha has a lot of stuff she needs to sort out before I let her anywhere near my plant daughter Willow.

I actually follow a couple fics dedicated to exactly that. Jackal’s Ladder was REALLY good and has finished! Idk if the author is going to continue it as a series but I’ve got my fingers crossed 🤞. The New Normal is another favorite of mine. It really looks into what bothers Boscha and makes her the bully she is, tears it all down, and makes her build herself back up. And she’s not doing it to please anyone. She’s just doing it for herself. (But then there’s tiny hints of Boschlow on the horizon that I’m super eager for).

All in all, I think Boscha is an interesting character and could have a great relationship with Willow; she just needs to get her shit together first. Idk how it would happen tbqh, but maybe Willow sees how hard Boscha is trying at being a better person? Maybe she sees Boscha doing something genuinely kind to someone else like helping an elderly witch at the market? Idk, something soft like Amity reading to kids that proves that she’s actually doing this “being better” thing for herself and not for an audience that she’s trying to fool. I think at that point Willow genuinely believes Boscha is trying and is encouraging her in her efforts, even going as far as extending an olive branch so they can try being friends. Willow’s curious about the person Boscha is when she’s not a bully. And now that she knows for certain that she’s not lying or doing this for some kind of cookie points, she’s willing to put in the effort.

I think it’d be very fun to watch Willow realize Boscha has a crush on her and then use that to flirt with her mercilessly. Because she does kinda sorta reciprocate those feelings?? But she’s still not certain of them yet. And it’s so much fun to watch Boscha turn the same color as her hair. So until she sorts out those feelings, she’s just gonna flirt relentlessly with her until something changes.

[jumbojamba47]

I Love You

Pt. 2 of Guest Room

A/N: Thank you for loving my little ball of garbage enough to warrant a second part. I’m feeling warm and fuzzy. Also... I kinda.. sorta.. really got carried away with this. I’m so sorry. I’m so so sorry. Shout out to my irl friends who had to deal with my gleefully rubbing my grubby little paws together all day. 

A/N PT. 2: TUMBLR QUIT BEING A BITCH AND JUST LET ME UPLOAD MY STORY IN PEACE PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU. The last try uploaded to my main and my stomach dropped out of my ass lmao. Fifth and hopefully final time. (I’m so sorry for the notifications spam for everyone I tagged)

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Stucky 

Warnings: 18+, Angst (like so much I’m sorry), Smut, Swearing, Mentions of Alcohol Consumption

Word Count: 5702

Hollow. It’s the only way she can describe the feeling of deep-seated emptiness that settles in her as she watches the quinjet disappear in the distance. What’s that noise? She casts her eyes around her surroundings when she suddenly feels a dampness on her collarbone. Reaching up a hand, she feels moisture on her face.

Oh.

The sounds were coming from her. At the realization of her sobs, pain wracked her frame with nowhere to go.

What was she thinking?

She wasn’t.

When she left Clint in a hurry, she hadn’t even paused to consider what she would say to you if she caught you. What did she feel for you? What could she have told you? Her life conditioned her to believe love was for children. She wasn’t one.

And yet…

She couldn’t deny that there was something about you that always drew her in to you. Every hidden interaction with you pulled onto all five of her senses demanding her full attention until there was only you in front of her; drawn straight into your orbit like a moon of Saturn. Each and every private encounter made it more difficult for the hardened assassin to pull herself away from you only to act unaffected by your presence in public.

Was that love?

It doesn’t matter.

You were sunlight. You were the warm embrace of home calling out to every damaged member of this family seeking acceptance for their past sins and a place to belong.

And she?

Well, she was damaged beyond repair.

She refused to be the one to tarnish your light. And she knew, if she gave in to her weaknesses, you could never really shine. You meant too much to the team. To her. A part of her could also admit to fear. Fear of what would happen if she hurt you.

If you hurt her.

She could live with never knowing what it felt like to call you hers. To hear you whisper her name in the early morning light your sweet features the first things she lays eyes on in your shared haven.

But she knew. She’d never recover if she could have you and lose you. If she were to tear her walls down, only for you to look inside and decide it wasn’t worth it.

That she wasn’t worth it.

With a steely resolve in her eyes, Natasha turned on her heels and began to make her way back towards the gym. She had a few weeks to get her head screwed on straight. She’ll lock away and bury anything she might have felt for you if given the chance. When you’re back, she’ll apologize for the hurt she’s caused you and maybe, just maybe, you’ll let her stay a part of your life.

If, along the way, she refuses to let her mind wander to thoughts of you with someone else, well, that’s her prerogative.

xxxx

You sit in heavy silence on the quinjet. Thoughts of last night’s interactions with the red-headed assassin plaguing your mind. You still feel a pang of pain when you remember her rejection. With a mental shake of your head, you resolve to table your emotions for now to focus on the mission at hand.

You’ve been tasked with leading a team to infiltrate an underground drug trafficking ring disguised as a bi-monthly art auction. Once you arrive at your destination, you’ll be allotted two months of integration and data retrieval before another team of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents will be sent in to assist in the take down. You’re leading the team with Scarlet Witch and Falcon following your lead. Agent Hill was chosen to tag along strictly for backup and onsite supervision should the worst come to pass.

Sam and Maria sit up front; you can hear the sounds of quiet banter trickling back towards you while they try to respect your privacy, believing you to be mentally preparing yourself for the road up ahead. Wanda sits opposite you. Your emotions scream at her from across the jet, but she has the decency not to read your actual thoughts.

Still, she can’t help the concerned glances she sends your way.

Noticing her attention on you, you shift your body to turn towards her.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“I could ask you the same. Where did you disappear to last night? I tried to find you after you were pulled away by Natasha, but I couldn’t find you.”

You let out a soft sigh.

“I’m sorry. My heads been a mess lately. I didn’t mean to leave you on the dance floor like that. It was a rough night.”

A hand rises to nervously play with the hair on the back of your neck. You look to the floor.

“I also owe you a bit of an apology for how carried away I got last night. You’re amazing Wan, and I don’t want to lead you on in any way.”

She lets out a light laugh.

“Don’t worry about it, draga mea. We were just two friends who had a little too much to drink, having a little fun. No hard feelings whatsoever.”

You wince and she instantly knows that was the wrong thing to say.

“You know, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener. Pietro used to say it’s because I had big ears when we were children.”

She reaches out a hand across the aisle to let it rest on your knee. After an internal debate, you decide to divulge everything to her. From your first interactions with the assassin and your instant connection to the fallout from last night.

Listening patiently, Wanda’s eyes widen slightly when you mention what the events that occurred in the ex-soviet’s room.

By the end, Wanda is livid with righteous indignation on your behalf.

“Well, she’s a fool for letting you go.” She squeezes your leg.

“I can’t claim to understand what’s going through her head, but you have to know her feelings aren’t a reflection on your worth. You are the glue that holds this team together and we all love you. Natasha, she…” she pauses, “she’s been through much. More than any of us will ever know. Her experiences have closed her off. But you’re both strong. Maybe you’re not meant to be, but I know you can bounce back from this. We have a few weeks before we’re due back and, in that time, I guarantee you we can get your spirit back up and bouncing like usual.”

“Damn right, we can!” You hear Sam interrupt from the front of the plane.

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding and let out a light laugh.

Yeah, things weren’t okay.

But maybe they will be.

xxxx

The mission goes off without a hitch and it does wonders for your confidence. As soon as you landed at the safehouse, you and your team had set to work securing the perimeter and preparing for your upcoming roles in the undercover mission. Sam moved first, infiltrating the ranks of the dealers as he uncovered the hierarchy of the operation and fed maria intel to pass on to headquarters. You and Wanda were posed as a wealthy young couple from new money, tasked with getting close to the heads of the drug ring in order to gain access to the final auction where you ultimately took down the entire operation with the aid of several agents.

Despite the smooth execution, you all still found yourselves with extra downtime between stakeouts and it led to the four of you growing closer. One of your favorite pastimes became group binge-watches of The Fairly Odd Parents and Wanda had taken to calling you Cosmo, the husband of her cartoon namesake.

           “ETA: 5 minutes,” called out Hill.

From your seat, you could see the compound looming over the horizon. You take in a nervous breath and release.

Next to you, Wanda can feel your apprehensive tension and takes a moment to give your hand a firm squeeze.

“You’re okay, Cosmo. Remember our talks. You have strength. You know your worth. You’ll be fine.”

You send her a grateful smile and a nod. Your fingers squeeze her back briefly before you move to stand by the doors of the ramp as you hear the jet begin to touch down.

She’s right. During your time away, you came to terms with the fact that it’s not Natasha’s fault that she doesn’t feel the same way as you do. You know you have no control over other people’s feelings, and you owed it to the both of you to face this head on, maturely.

As soon as the jet’s ramp meets the floor of the hangar, you’re met with a wall of pure muscle that really should come with a warning label. Your feet are lifted off the ground and suddenly you’re swinging in circles. You laugh as Bucky’s long hair tickles your nose.

Wait a second.

Is that?

“James Buchanan Barnes. Put me down this instant.”

He stiffens. That’s his name. That’s who he is. He is James Buchanan Barnes. Former sergeant and integral member of the Howling Commandos. The Winter Soldier. Melted down and reforged by Hydra. He was a legend. He was a nightmare. He was feared. He was… terrified.

Christ. Hearing his full name falling out of your mouth in that tone never failed to instill the fear of God into him. Not even his ma, bless her soul, could quite measure up to the intimidating aura you exuded when he knew you were ready to tan his hide.

You stood before him, hands on your hips, feet shoulder width apart, stance strong, eyebrow peaked… and deadly.

“Did you break into my room and steal my hair mask… again?”

The others stand back, watching in amusement while he starts to sweat.

“D-doll, of course not! You explicitly told m-me your room was off limits while you were go-”

You cut him off as you step closer.

“Don’t you lie to me, Barnes,” your eyes narrow and he gulps when you push your face closer to his.

“I can smell the macadamia oil, you heathen.”

Just as you’re about to launch into a lecture about respecting other people’s belongings, you’re interrupted by the sound of Steve’s voice.

“You gotta admit, at least it’s better than smelling the greasy mop he always ends up with after training.”

Your entire demeanor lightens up as you whip around to take a running leap at your favorite Man with a Plan.

“STEVIE!”

He catches you in his arms. “Good to have you back, sugar. We missed you around here.”

You hear a soft exhale of relief come from behind you.

Tilting your head back from where you’re perched in Steve’s arms, you narrow your eyes at Bucky and make a silent gesture to indicate you’re watching him. This is far from over.

He gulps.

“Well, c’mon then, we’re all dying to hear how the mission went. The others are waiting for you in the lounge.”

You stay wrapped around your friend’s dorito shaped torso but make the effort to wriggle your way around him so you’re clinging to his back like an infant koala. He rolls his eyes but does nothing to deter you, choosing to move his arms in support of your legs instead.

“Onward, my trusty steed!” you giggle.

As one, you all make your way towards the main common area, taking the time to drop off your luggage in your respective rooms as you go. Eventually, you make your way to the lounge and as you’re carried in, F.R.I.D.A.Y. blasts the loud trumpets of a herald through her speakers.

Huh, Tony must’ve upgraded her sense of humor.

Greeting the others, you use your hands in Steve’s hair like an oversized rat with a penchant for cooking to guide him towards your favorite lounge chair. Sam and Wanda move towards the kitchen to look for the good snacks they couldn’t have undercover while everyone else gathers around the remaining lounges.

From the corner of your eye, you can see Natasha hovering off to the side near Clint but you can’t quite get yourself to make eye contact yet. You wait for everyone to settle in. Wanda approaches you with two mugs of tea in her hands offering you one with a “just the way you like it, Cosmo”. It’s punctuated with a wink and she perches herself on the arm of your seat, bringing her own around to rest across the back. Her hand finds its way to your hair playing with a few strands to keep you grounded while you purposefully train your eyes away from a certain side of the room.

Wanda really did become your rock in the weeks away. While you never repeated anything from the night of your party, you fell into an easy companionship with the young mutant that led to you each being comfortable around the other. She knew how hard your return would be for you and made it her next mission to make sure you knew you had a solid support system in place.

Seeing the close interaction between the two of you, Bucky and Steve both shoot you cheeky grins and eyebrow wiggles that have you holding up a throw pillow just under Wanda’s current line of sight. She glances down, smirks and hurls the pillow at the two men using her powers, ensuring she adds a boomerang effect to ricochet off the face of one in order to hit the other stunning both of them.

“Nice!” You give her an enthusiastic high five as she wiggles her fingers at the recovering men.

“I just learned that one on the job. I have to keep practicing for muscle memory.” She states in a faux haughty tone while you snicker at the indignation on your Brooklyn Boys’ faces.

Across the room, Natasha watches you. She knew she missed you while you were away, but nothing could have prepared her for the onslaught of emotions that crashed into her when she finally laid eyes on you after weeks apart. You still had the same mischievous spark in your eyes. Your nose still crinkled just the slightest bit when you laughed. Your smile could still light up an entire room like the Fourth of July.

God, she missed you.

She watches your raucous banter with the resident super-soldiers with a fond smile teasing the corners of her lips. She takes note of the casual arm slung across your shoulders, the hand tangled in your hair, and something inside of her burns. Her jaw clenches.

She’s not yours to have.

Clint nudges her shoulder with a pointed look. She realizes she’s been emitting a soft growl. Focus Romanoff! Where is your training? She strains but ultimately fixes her posture until she’s the posterchild for casual aloofness. Her best friend snickers but chooses not to comment on the slight rigidity he can see in her shoulders.

Tony claps his hands to gain everyone’s attention.

“Alright alright, Hermione’s new parlor tricks aside, we all know why we’re really here.”

In his best imitation of Fury’s gruff voice, he growls out, “Hill. Debrief report. Judgement on (y/hero/n)’s execution?”

Rolling her eyes but playing along, “All objectives executed to perfection. Leadership skills exemplary, sir!” she tosses in a mock salute.

It’s quiet before everyone breaks into cheers and congratulate you and your team on a successful job well done. You’re beaming when you hear Sam chime in with, “You better watch out Cap. (Y/l/n) could give you a run for your money as team captain. We might be shipping you to a retirement home sooner than we thought.

Your best friend grins at you with pride and mirth shining in his eyes and you feel warm inside.

“I think we could come to a truce and work together. Co-captain sound good to you doll?”

“I don’t think so Steve. I’ll leave the captaincy to you. I don’t think I could handle dragging the metal chicken wing over there back in line every day,” you respond with a laugh, sticking your tongue out at Sam. You draw out a squawk of offense and everyone bursts into laughter.

You turn your head slightly and find yourself making direct eye contact with the very same pair of vivid green eyes that still visit you in your dreams. You swallow down the rising emotions and offer her a small smile. She looks startled at first but relaxes slightly and gives you one of her own in return.

Maybe you could do this.

You spend a few more minutes catching up with the rest of the team, learning about what everyone has been up to while you were away. Checking the time, you slowly pull away from Wanda, who still has her weight resting on you, and announce that you’re going to head to your room to wash off and settle in before you have to fill out your mission reports.

Everyone bids you goodnight and you exit the room, walking the familiar pathway towards your own residence. Your ears pick up quiet footsteps behind you causing you to turn your head slightly.

A small sharp inhale escapes your lips. Your eyes betray you with a quick scan of her nervous form standing in front of you. Her hair is a little longer and the circles under her eyes are just the slightest shade darker. She still looks just as breathtaking as the day you walked out of her room. Her presence instantly brings you peace and you curse yourself under your breath.

Mentally slapping yourself, you plaster on a casual smile.

“Hey Nat. Been a while.”

You cringe.

Really? Been a while? Really?

She steps towards you, “Hi (y/n/n),” she responds softly.

“Listen I-”

“Can we-”

You both let out a nervous chuckle.

“Sorry. Go ahead, you first,” she says.

“Listen, Nat. I owe you an apology.”

She stills. What could you possibly have to apologize for? You’re not the one who broke the heart of the love of your life just because you had commitment issues.

Stop that. She’s not your love of anything.

She opens her mouth to interrupt but you press on.

“It wasn’t fair of me to try to push you into something you clearly weren’t comfortable with. You made it clear that you didn’t love me the way I loved you. I never wanted to make you feel like I would demand anything of you. You’re more than entitled to your own feelings and it wasn’t okay for me to project what I felt onto you.”

Frozen in place, her mind could only focus on two words.

Loved? Felt?

And didn’t that sting?

She can feel her throat start to constrict but she goes along with it.

Maybe it’s for the best.

“It’s okay (y/n/n). I understand where you came from and I’m partially to blame for letting things go on for as long as they did without taking your feelings into consideration.

“Friends?”

A small, okay large, part of her brain screamed in agony that this was wrong.

Instead, she smiles and nods opening her arms.

You gingerly step into her embrace, one arm comes up holding her shoulder while the other gently cups the back of her head in a familiar hold.

Her arms come up to wrap themselves around your middle, squeezing slightly.

If either of you noticed the other inhale just a little deeper, neither of you chose to comment.

xxxx

Several weeks go by and you’ve settled back into a familiar routine. Wanda has officially been adopted into you and your boys’ infamous trio and the brunette witch could often be seen joining in on your foolish antics around the compound. At first, the three made a pact to ensure you would never be exposed to prolonged periods of alone time with the woman who damaged your tender heart. Often times, you’d catch yourself alone with the assassin only for one of the others to immediately swoop in to whisk you away and drag you into some activity before you could draw each other into a prolonged conversation

It took you a few days to catch on to what your friends were doing. While the sentiment was greatly appreciated, you couldn’t miss the slight look of hurt that crossed Natasha’s face whenever you were pulled away from her. Eventually, you had to put your foot down, taking them aside one day. You told them that you loved them and appreciated their concern. But you’re an adult and you can handle your affairs well enough on your own.

They backed off but still continued to keep a wary lookout. They couldn’t help it. You were their favorite.

Your interactions with the devastatingly gorgeous avenger were still a little stunted and you both miss the longing stares you direct towards each other on occasion. Still, you’re getting better.

It still hurts sometimes but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life. In any capacity.

You think you’re getting better. It stills hurts but you’re okay as long as you still have her in your life.

xxxx

You’re in the gym talking to Sam one afternoon as he spots you in the weights section while Natasha and Clint are sparring on the mats.

“The team’s decided to make an appearance at a new nightclub Aluminum Alloy Man bought out on a dare tonight. You in, sugar?”

You laugh at the latest nickname he’s given Stark but shake your head no.

“Sorry Sam but I’ve got a date.”

You hear a particularly loud grunt come from Clint and turn your head slightly to see Natasha apologizing while he’s doubled over catching his breath.

“Oh? Anyone we know?” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You roll your eyes.

“With myself, you dork. I’ve been dying to watch Monty Python and the Holy Grail and I finally have the downtime to sit through it. There’s a bottle of wine and a couch calling my name and I intend to capitalize.”

He laughs but nods understandingly.

“That’s fair. You good here? I better head out to get ready.”

“Yeah, yeah, you go ahead. Have fun tonight!” You wave him off wiping the sweat off the back of your neck with a damp towel.

“(Y/L/N)!” You hear your name called out from across the gym.

“Care to spar? Clint’s tapping out. He’s a wuss.”

You start to hesitate but choose to nod instead, stepping into the ring, setting your towel on the rope to dry.

You begin to circle one another assessing each other’s weaknesses. She makes the first move lashing out with a swift kick to your ankle, aiming to leave you off balance. You dodge out of the way and retaliate with a series of jabs towards her torso. This goes on for several minutes each of you landing several hits when Natasha launches herself off your bent knee, intending to use her signature thigh grip of death to bring you down.

Not today, Satan.

You bring your arms up, wedging them between your neck and her legs before she can get a grip. You latch onto her legs tightly before you swing her around your body, tackling her to the floor. You move your hand to cradle the back of her head to ensure it doesn’t smack into the ground, bringing yourself much closer to her body in the process.

You’re both panting heavily, stuck, mesmerized by the intense look in each other’s eyes. You have one leg between her thighs, knee pressed to her core, puffs of air intermingling between you.

Is she? Leaning towards you?

Oh, you definitely felt that wiggle of her hips against your knee.

You wet towel drops to the floor with a wet smack and just like that, the spell is broken.

You both scramble apart and you move to pick up the offending object.

Behind you, Natasha clears her throat sheepishly.

“So, I couldn’t help but overhear your big plans for tonight while you were talking to Wilson. Is there room for one more? I was actually planning to do the same, but I hear Monty Python is much funnier with good company.”

Everything inside of you screams that this is a terrible idea. But here’s the thing, you thrived off of terrible ideas.

“Sure, why not? We can start when everyone else heads out?”

Sure you would have declined, she brightens considerably and throws you a grin.

She starts walking backwards towards the door.

“Great! It’s a date! I mean- not a date-”

She smacks herself right into the door.

You let out a small laugh.

“I know what you meant.”

“Right. Yes. I’ll see you tonight!” She scurries out the door.

You stay standing there in the ring watching the space she just occupied.

On the other side of the door, Natasha leans heavily against the metal.

What have I gotten myself into?

xxxx

You bid goodbye to your friends and make sure to tell them to call you should they need anything. Once everyone is out the door, you turn around, inhale deeply, and set to work.

Despite everything, and your unfailing determination to not fall down the same rabbit hole, you can’t help but want to take care of Natasha in any capacity you can.

So, you take extra care to grab her favorite snacks, her go-to brand of wine, a couple glasses, and an oversized hoodie you always kept in the back of the closet, on hand just for her. She had a tendency to relax in thinner loungewear, but you knew once she settled in, she stubbornly refused to get up for anything no matter how cold she got.

As you set everything down on the coffee table in front of the oversized, plush couch in the center of the movie room, the beauty in question makes her way towards you in, surprise surprise, a thin tank top and shorts.

You roll your eyes but toss her your sweatshirt and she grins at you before hastily throwing it on, snuggling into the warmth. You both settle onto opposite sides of the couch, the wine and snacks split between you. The movie plays and you find yourselves relaxing. Like magnets, you eventually gravitate towards each other, sharing jokes and snacks, yelling at the large screen in front of you as the Black Knight stubbornly refuses to die.

Without realizing each other’s movements, she winds up leaning against you while your arm is wrapped around alternating between playing with her hair and rubbing soothing patterns across her shoulder and biceps.

You feel a shudder come from the deadly ball of fluff in your arms and only then do you realize your positions. You can’t bring yourself to move.

“Cold?”

“Yeah,” she nods. Attempting to burrow herself further into your clothes.

You pull her closer to you until her legs are resting over yours, head tucked under your chin, puffs of air tickling your sensitive neck.

Bad move (y/l/n).

You forget how to breathe. Natasha turns to look at you when she feels you still beneath her.

Oh. Oh god.

She didn’t realize how close she was to you and from this distance, she can see every detail of your ethereal beauty in the dim light of the movie lighting.

You turn your head to take a quick peak at her but suddenly you’re drowning in a sea of green. Your breath hitches when green is replaced by red and suddenly plump lips are crushing your own.

You moan and your hands scramble for purchase as the angel in your lap twists to straddle you. Fists tighten in your hair while she nips at your lower lip, close to drawing blood. She tugs at your shirt and you get the message. You desperately rip away your top while she follows suit before she pushes you onto your back spreading out on top of you.

A loud groan escapes your lips as the vixen in your arms finds the sensitive space right below your ear. Unwilling to be out done, you wrap your legs around her hips and gracefully flip yourselves over, trailing kisses down the crevice of her breasts, mapping your way down her body. Like Copernicus charting the stars. Reaching your destination, you pull apart the draw strings of her shorts with nothing but your teeth, earning a moan of approval from the writhing redhead. You smoothly slide back up her body, meeting her desperate lips in a searing kiss while your hand finds her center, already feeling the slick wetness ready for you. Natasha’s limbs fly to wrap around you as you set a steady pace pushing her closer and closer to the edge. Knowing she needs the extra push, your other hand moves to pull aside her bra before you deliver a harsh nip and a firm curl of your fingers.

She sees stars.

No.

She sees galaxies.

You continue to move, determined to prolong her pleasure for as long as possible.

You’re rewarded with the crack of her voice as she hurdles into the abyss.

“God, I fucking love you.”

It slips out of your mouth completely unbidden.

But it’s too late.

The damage can’t be undone.

Just like that, she snaps back to reality.

She hastily sits up. Your hand falls back into your lap as she quickly stands picking up her shirt.

“We can’t do this.”

“Natasha, I-”

“No.”

“Natasha, would you jus-”

“I said no!”

You feel like you’ve been here before.

She turns to make a hasty retreat, but you catch her hand in a tight grip before she can get too far.

“Why do you keep running from me? Am I so repulsive that the thought of being with me has you running for the hills?”

“Not everything is about you, (y/l/n),” she bites out.

Neither of you hear the team returning but all of them can hear the yelling coming from your direction and they run towards you.

“No. You always do this! Every time I think we’ve gotten to a good place; you freeze me out.”

“That’s the thing! We were in a good place! We were having fun. We had each other when we needed it and nothing more! We were so good like that. We can still be like that!”

Tears fill your eyes.

“It’s not enough.”

“Why can’t this be enough?!” she cries.

“This has to be enough,” she whispers looking at anything but you.

A hand moves to grip hers gently. The other rises to cup her chin to guide her eyes to yours.

“This could be so much more. Let me love you the way you deserve.”

Staring into your eyes, she can see you dying a little more inside the longer she stays silent.

She pulls away from you.

Okay.

You thought you could be fine with just floating in her orbit. Maybe you underestimated how long it would take for you to heal enough to allow it. Or maybe you couldn’t do this at all.

Your head tilts towards the floor. Your lips break into the softest, most heart-breaking smile she’s ever seen.

“I’m always going to love you Natasha Romanoff. But I owe it to the both of us to know this won’t be enough for me. This can’t be enough for me.”

A whimper is caught in her throat but she can’t bring herself to move when you step back away from her.

“I love you. I don’t want to,” you breathe out.

Natasha swears she hears something inside her shatter.

“I’m sorry I don’t give you the strength you need to pursue your own happiness. I really hope you find someone who does. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy.”

You make me happy.

Just say it!

Her body screams in protest with every fiber of her being.

“Bye Tasha.”

You turn and only then do you realize that the two of you aren’t alone.

Wanda steps forward. She wraps her arms around your shoulders as she leads you away throwing a glare at the assassin.

Natasha takes a step in your direction.

“(Y/n) wait-”

She stopped by a metal arm blocking her way.

“Haven’t you done enough?” Bucky growls.

“And what do you know about what I’ve done?” She shoves him away.

“I know you hurt them! AGAIN!” he snarls, “You need to get your shit together before I’ll even THINK about letting you come anywhere NEAR (y/n) again, Romanoff.”

Her blood boils. She scoffs, “Big surprise, their guard dog immediately snaps to attention at the first sign of trouble. Tell me Barnes, does your master feed you well?”

She regrets her outburst immediately, but she’s too angry, too frustrated, too exhauseted to take it back.

“Don’t forget who trained you, Natalia,” comes out in a menacing hiss.

Frantically, Clint’s eyes snap from her to the ex-soldier advancing on her. He immediately steps between the two, placing a hand on her arm and turning towards the larger assassin.

“Whoa now, you know she didn’t mean that. Emotions are just running high right now. Let’s all take a step back. I could use a hand, Cap.”

Despite his own roiling emotions, he needs to maintain his professionalism as team captain, releasing a heavy puff of air, he moves to place a firm hand on Bucky’s shoulder, pulling him to his side.

“Clint’s right. We can’t do anything to fix this right now. Everyone, disperse. We’ll regroup in the morning.” He sends a piercing glare at the redhead.

Hearing another growl, Clint whips his head back around, “As entertaining as it would be to make a compound wide betting pool with Tony on a wwe rumble between you and two tag-teaming super soldiers, maybe we should take a second to cool off outside, yeah” he hisses at her.

Gritting her teeth, she nods, allowing Clint to pull her down the hall and out the door.

As she catches a glimpse of the hall leading to your room, all she can think is one thing.

She let you slip through her fingers… again.

Tagging some incredible people who expressed an interest in pt. 2:

guys im so fucking sorry this keeps showing up in your mentions.

@natasha-danvers , @thelastavenger-3000 , @ohfuckno , @imnotasuperhero

[secret-engima]

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret DoTF Characterization Rant

OKAY, ME RANT RAMBLING ON LUNA’S CHARACTERIZATION IN DAWN OF THE FUTURE IS A GO.

This is … likely going to get messy, but I’ll try to keep it at least moderately coherent. Lemme start by saying that- for the most part- I did actually enjoy Luna’s chap. I’ve been enjoying the book (kinda-sorta-mostly, I really liked Aranea’s chap at least) and I don’t think it’s like- a BAD book? Necessarily? But I feel like it is extremely telling in regards to how the characterization/lore is treated that my brain is automatically filing this thing under “fanfic that’s not my HC but is okay-ish” rather than “canon I will be gleefully tweaking as I please”. My brain is literally looking at this officially licensed book and equating it to fanfic. To fanfic that NEEDS EDITING.

With that out of the way, lemme attempt to summarize my (main) issues with Luna’s Characterization and then I’ll expand on them from there. Get ready for the salt.

1. Luna’s backstory is inconsistent. She herself states multiple times that Oracle training is grueling and involves both physical and mental trials as well as things like fasting for long periods of time WHILE doing said training, yet she is mostly treated like a well-meaning but overall pampered, naive princess who is only now being forced into hard circumstances and has to adapt accordingly. She is also treated like she doesn’t know “common people” that well and doesn’t know how to interact or pick up things like lies (????). A common example is how she treats Sol as trustworthy but reserved when according to Sol’s POV she is literally debating shooting Luna as a possible threat. And Luna supposedly doesn’t pick up on this danger. But we’ll get back to that.

2. Luna is characterized as being oblivious to how people outside Rich Oracle Circles live. That despite traveling all over the world she has never really seen it’s “ugly” sides because she’s always traveled in fancy guarded processions with the sick brought to her. Pretty sure the book specifically mentions at one point that she’s never “considered” what it would be like to be anything other than an Oracle. Admittedly this issue could go under number 1 or 3a but I’m putting it here because I’m salty.

3a. This and the next problem are heavily intertwined and, not going to lie, I could make an entire rant just about these two issues all by themselves, not just in Luna’s context. The first is that Luna is portrayed as not being able to make her own decisions, not even wanting to make her own decisions, until she is forced to or has her “eyes opened” by Sol, our jaded Long Night survivor character. The author treats Luna’s sense of duty as some form of social brainwashing she needs to “get over” and spoiler alert I hate it with every fiber of my being.

3b. Playing right off the whole “Luna is incapable of making her own decisions and that’s why she does her freaking job until someone ‘opens her eyes’” is the idea that Luna’s faith is a character flaw. Lemme reiterate. The story treats Luna’s faith. As a character flaw. Rather than the entire cornerstone to her character and one of the big reasons she’s as amazing as she is. Her faith is treated as foolish and shortsighted, something that has only survived for this long because it has never been challenged and, heads up, the rant I am going to go into on this one specific thing is going to be long and extremely salty.

Alright I think I’ve covered the basics. Starting from the top, BRING ON THE SALT.

…

1. Luna is pampered, well-meaning but naive and bad at reading ulterior motives of people.

….*slow, deep breath* Luna. The Oracle. Who became the youngest Oracle in history. Because her mother was murdered in front of her while her home was burned down and conquered by the people who then proceeded to rule her country, subvert her brother to their cause, and generally control and monitor every aspect of her life that they could. Luna, who was fully prepared to take a single suitcase and escape her own home and run off alone to get to Altissia and had to be stopped by her own brother (who you’ll note brought a bunch of soldiers with him, which indicates he did not expect a submissive response if he came alone).

This girl who was canonically physically abused as a child by a Niflheim officer (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iZHzBtIfpdg slow this down if you need to confirm, but she is grabbed and manhandled and hit by an adult man when she only looks to be twelve, around the age Tenebrae first fell), who has spent twelve years living under the rule of a nation that is not only aggressively atheist but has willfully attempted to kill one of the very beings she serves and openly plans to do so again. The woman who successfully survived the fall of Insomnia with only one magic-less glaive as her backup for most of the event, then evaded the search efforts of an entire empire with only her own wits, a dog, a Messenger who has only ever been shown to talk rather than fight, and the extremely grudging on-off help of her brother who works for said empire. All while waking up the Astrals and forging covenants that were slowly killing her from the strain, which is the exact thing the empire was trying to prevent her from doing. Then, when it became necessary to complete the last covenant, turned herself in to the very same empire that has imprisoned her since she was a child and has been actively hunting/trying to stop or kill her since Insomnia’s fall.

That girl. Is pampered. Is naive. Is bad at reading people and telling when they have ulterior motives or are lying.

Pull the other one. I’ll kick you.

But seriously, how are we supposed to believe this? Luna’s life post Tenebrae’s fall to Niflheim is only pampered in the sense that she was given fancy clothes and fed regularly (outside the grueling fasting periods mentioned in this same book). She had no freedom, no privacy, her guards were all either men who wore the same uniform as those who killed her mother or were monsters infected with the very scourge she is sworn to purify. The Oracle is famous, is revered by the people. To keep the people on their side, the Empire would have flaunted her, would have taken her to all the shiny events. Luna would have had to dine with, converse with, even dance with the very same people who ordered and condoned the murder of her mother, her own imprisonment, and the brainwashing of her own brother to the enemy side. She would have been the epitome of a bird in a gilded cage or a dog on a silk leash and humans are not meant to live like that.

Am I really expected to think she survived a situation that oppressive, that toxic, that actively hurtful, for years by being naive and bad at reading people? Am I really expected to believe that she cannot tell when people are out to use her or hurt her or are lying to her? Am I really expected to believe that she is pampered and doesn’t have, at the very least, PTSD from seeing her mother murdered and her brother join the very people who did it, let alone everything else that would have followed over those years?

Really?

Luna didn’t have a pampered life. She suffered abuse. Longterm emotional abuse, likely sporadic physical abuse until she learned to play along well enough to escape such punishments, and almost certainly gaslighting (again: religious leader being held captive by an aggressively atheist nation that wants to kill the pantheon this religious leader communes with).

Luna would have learned to navigate the canonically cutthroat politics of Niflheim while being at best an outsider and at worst a target because of her beliefs, her nationality, and her loyalties to the Lucians (nobody was surprised when Luna went on the run. Nobody. Her continued devotion and loyalty to the Lucians -Niflheim’s enemy- was absolutely a well known factor). She would have learned to pick truth from lie and when to pretend she hadn’t noticed in order to survive. She would have lived twelve years knowing that any mistakes or misplaced moments of trust would be paid for in either her suffering of the suffering of the people close to her like her servants, or just the citizens of Tenebrae in general.

And none of this is taking into account her Oracle training, which the book does not elaborate on but repeatedly states was hard and grueling and she completed it years earlier than any Oracle in history.

There are a lot of words I would use to describe Luna, but pampered and naive are not among them.

…

2. Luna is oblivious to how people outside her rich circles live and has never considered being anything else but an Oracle until Sol specifically points it out.

The book states that she mostly travels in procession (ie, with tons of servants to serve her every need and bodyguards to keep the masses at bay) so clearly she can’t go anywhere too dangerous, otherwise her servants wouldn’t be able to come. Right? Oh boy where do I start with this.

I know! Let’s start with the fact that Luna canonically maintains the blessings on Havens! You know those things. They’re your only safe place to camp at night and they can be found in all sorts of nifty locations like the middle of the wilderness where cars can’t go, chocobos won’t go, packs of wild animals will literally leap out of the bushes to eat you (Voretooth packs can get up to twelve or more members all trying to eat you at once, fun fact), and poor choice in clothes will lead to broken ankles at best? The ones that can be found in the depths of locations so dangerous that even the Hunters are leary of going inside and are actively forbidden from approaching unless they are a very high rank?

Off the top of my head some of the Havens that come to mind is the one in the middle of Malmalam thicket, the top of an active volcano, multiple spots in the middle of the voretooth and coeurl infested desert, two up in Vesperpool aka the home of all demon crocodiles and flocks of cockatrice that are bigger than the average car and can literally turn you into stone if you aren’t careful.

Yeah those places. She maintains those. Depending on how often Havens need to be maintained and if the weather/nature shortens that time then she might also have to periodically enter the dungeons Noctis explores in game that also have Havens hidden inside where it is always dark all the time and infested with daemons.

The book also states that the sick (who are highly infectious and not supposed to be touched by people who can’t heal the scourge and in the later stages of sickness become extremely violent and prone to biting in order to infect other people) are … brought to her…

By whom? Exactly?

Moving on from that giant and obvious plot hole to the “never seen or considered other lifestyles” bit: Luna has traveled literally all over the world. In her duties of healing the otherwise incurable she has gone all over Niflheim, Tenebrae, and Lucis. She has walked through the streets of cities filled with lights and glamor and stood on the dirt roads of towns so small they have to go to the next town an hour or more away to buy groceries or check their mailbox and who’s royal hotel suite is just a caravan with a new coat of paint and “welcome Oracle!” sign. Luna’s work is to cure the Starscourge, which is a disease that I can almost promise the rich don’t get. Because the rich and fancy do not risk their lives by going into daemon territory (Prompto, a middle class Insomnian, didn’t even know what wild animals would be like, you expect the rich and famous to be any better?).

The vast majority of Luna’s patients would be people like Dave the Hunter, or Sania the scientist who wades into the wilds. The truck drivers and the farmers and the electricians risking their lives to repair power lines in the middle of nowhere. She wouldn’t be going to cities except to talk to the refugees who fled there from the outside and thus picked up the Scourge. Her only two social circles would be Niflheim’s cutthroat nobility and the “unwashed masses” who come to her for healing. Guess which ones she’ll be more invested in getting to know on a personal/friendly basis and interacting with.

Of course Luna has interacted with and understands “common folk”. Luna is a caregiver, not just physically, but emotionally. She is beloved by the people because she is kind. That means she talks to them. More importantly, she listens. She has held the hands of the farmer as he begs her to heal him, because the harvest season is so close, and if he can’t work, if he dies, then what will become of his wife or the people his farm feeds? She has embraced the sobbing refugee mother as the other breaks down in gratitude for a child who’s skin is a healthy shade and who’s veins no longer bulge a sickly purple. She has met people who are not rich, but who are content. Who have lives that do not hinge on the razor thin dance of staying true to self and not exposing weakness to those who want to eat her alive. Who can laugh with their neighbors and kiss that nice boy down the street just for the fun of it, who can defy curfew to dance in the rain with the person they love and risk, at most, a lecture and a weekend grounding.

And no, they aren’t rich, no, they aren’t influential or powerful, but they are peaceful. They are happy.

Am I really expected to believe that Luna has not looked on these people’s lives from afar, listened to their rambles as they try to distract themselves from the sickness she is drawing from their veins, and not yearned to be the same? That she hasn’t thought over and over again about running away and being free from her gilded cage? That she doesn’t know anything about the lives of the people she heals even as she walks down their streets and steps into their houses so she can heal those who are too sick or too violent to be safely taken out of their room? That she has never thought about what life could be like if she wasn’t an Oracle as she watches the landscape roll by and walks through the wilderness to find the lonely farmsteads that the townsfolk tell her has sick children that cannot be let out of the shed for fear they will bite?

Setting all of that to one side, what human hasn’t thought of being someone else? What person on this planet, hasn’t looked at another person’s life that is so very different from their own and gone “huh, I wonder what that would be like” even if only for a moment before moving on and forgetting about it? Humans are creatures that dream by nature, that are curious by nature. To assume that Luna is not just because she gets to have the fancy dresses and servants is stupid.

…

3a: Luna is unable to make her own decisions and is only the dutiful Oracle because she doesn’t know any better and needs a “wiser” rebellious character to “open her eyes”.

Okay buckle up. I have tried to suppress the salt until now but over these last two points I don’t care. I will be salty. I will be sarcastic. I will be mean. I will reference Real World faiths (tho I’ll try to keep that to a minimum).

Both 3a and 3b are actually systemic issues in storytelling (particularly noticeable in movies/shows but maybe that’s because I’m pretty lucky with my book choices) that I despise with a passion. Specifically 3a relates to the chronic issue writers seem to have with characters not being allowed to be happy with their role in life. There’s this persistent thought, this narrative push, that if a character is following in the footsteps of their family, is entering the “traditional” profession that their parents (or grandparents, or entire generations of predecessors) have been in before them then they must be unhappy with their lot in life. That this is clearly the character being “repressed” and that if they are content then they are either a bad guy (see: every antagonist from a proud military family or every ruler who thinks they are better than everyone because of bloodline ever) or they are just blind to their own unhappiness.

Now, the basic idea of “character discovers they are unhappy in current role and seeks a new one” can actually be done really well. But those stories that do it well have a lot of internal conflict, a lot of self-reflection and searching and choosing to take a new path after really giving it some thought. Maybe they have help along the way, or encouragement, or another character to show that it’s possible by example and that’s okay.

What is not okay is infantilizing a strong, intelligent character by saying “oh it just never occurred to them until they are told that they are unhappy by this much more worldly wise character and then they went and did it”. That is not okay. It not only trivializes the efforts of every real person who has proudly followed in a parent’s footsteps to become something (a doctor, a missionary, a soldier, an actor, even an electrician, pick a life goal and I promise someone has been inspired to do that by their parent being one before them) but it also takes an otherwise strong, dedicated character and implies that they are too stupid to think for themselves or have any free will until the plot and a Shinier Character demands it.

Lunafreya Nox Fleuret is an Oracle, as her mother was before her, and her mother before her, and all the way back two thousand years to the very first Oracle we see in canon. Possibly back even farther, depending on if any of Aera’s ancestors were Oracles too. That isn’t a suffocating tradition, that is a heritage, that is a culture, that is a necessary, life-saving service that canon proves literally kept the world from falling into eternal darkness (Luna was the last Oracle, the day after she dies is literally the last time we players see sunlight until the end of the game when Noctis dies to restore it). Luna is not stupid or repressed for following in those footsteps, she is breathtakingly strong for shouldering her heritage as the Last Oracle with pride even when the forces controlling every other aspect of her life want her to be ashamed of it and give it up.

The empire that took over her home when she was twelve are actively anti-magic and anti-Astral. Luna is someone who speaks to the Astrals and is born with a magic that can heal the very sickness they want to weaponize. They couldn’t outright forbid her from training to be the next Oracle because that would cause the people to riot, but they could and absolutely would try to make her give up in any way they could. They would have insulted her, demeaned her, hurt her, and imprisoned her. They wouldn’t have wanted a “real” Oracle, they would have wanted a puppet who said pretty promises and then did nothing to stop them.

It would have been so easy for Luna to go down the same path her brother did. To give in to the empire and it’s propaganda that she would have been forced to listen to every single day of her life for twelve whole years. It would have made her life so much easier to be a puppet Oracle who didn’t have to walk miles through the wilderness to maintain Havens, or defy the empire by maintaining loyalty to Lucis, or leave her manor home to heal the sick that could not come to her themselves. As a puppet Oracle she could have stayed in the Manor and only treated cases that could reach her doors and were vetted by the empire. She could have eaten the finest foods and worn the best dresses and never had to worry about a pack of hungry Voretooths or a rogue Behemoth tearing her apart. Most of all, Niflheim wouldn’t have been nearly as oppressive or violent. They would have gladly given her the illusion of freedom and control as long as she played along rather than been fully willing and prepared to run into the jungle with a suitcase just to escape as seen in the movie.

Luna was not blindly fitting into a mold and she was not and has never been incapable of making a decision. The fact that she shows up in canon as a strong, dedicated woman who is in control of her emotions and not afraid to face down a giant sea monster with the power to summon tidal waves with just her words and a glorified pointy stick proves that. The idea that she needs a “wiser” character to come alongside her and “free her” from her own duties is not only stupid, it undermines one of the key things that makes Luna such a strong character despite her relative lack of screentime.

Furthermore, canonically, one of Luna’s main reasons for sticking with her duty as Oracle isn’t because it’s tradition, it’s because of what Niflheim did. In the Kingsglaive movie, when Nyx Ulric is getting angry at Luna for doing really reckless, life-threatening things, she tells him quote:

“I do not fear death. What I fear is doing nothing and losing everything.”

That’s not a woman who is blindly following a path laid out for her. That is a woman who is desperately, furiously fighting against the people who killed her mother in front of her the best way she can: by being the Oracle they cannot stand for her to be.

But sure. Luna is only the Oracle because she doesn’t know better and it never occurred to her to be anything else until some jaded kid with a shotgun made a snide comment about it.

3b: Luna’s faith is a character flaw that has only survived this long because it wasn’t challenged by a worldly wise character who knows better.

Not going to lie but words cannot express how much I hate this trope. This is another thing that shows up a lot in television/movies but also in books too, and that is that a character is not allowed to have a faith in something/religion unless they are 1. Foolish, 2. Brainwashed/tricked into it, 3. A crazy fanatic, or 4. It’s a character flaw they have to overcome by becoming more jaded and atheist and hateful.

Because … that’s not how it works. There are- millions (billions) of people all over the real world who are intelligent, well educated, thoughtful, kind, and religious. And no I’m not just talking about Christianity (tho I am Christian so you can see why this trope grinds my gears so hard). There’s Hinduism, there’s Islam, there’s Buddhism, there’s Judaism, there’s so many faiths and belief systems okay. And no we don’t tend to play well with each other or accept the validity of the others but that doesn’t mean we’re fanatics or brainwashed or stupid. And no we really don’t appreciate it when media introduces a character who follows a religion (even fictional ones!) only to make them an antagonist or rip it away from them in the name of “improving their character”. Just like every other cultural group ever who really doesn’t like their heritage and culture being used as a butt of jokes or is turned into a caricature or used as the basis for the antagonist being Evil™.

But no. We can’t possibly have a character who’s faith makes them strong or gives them comfort in times of hardship unless they are deluded. We can’t possibly have a character who is both intelligent and faithful. We can’t possibly show a character who is breathtakingly courageous and selfless as well as religious unless we point at their faith and go oh look a horrible character flaw to overcome by having non-believer characters open their eyes via sarcastic commentary.

And look. Look. I am well aware that the plot of Dawn of the Future has Bahamut as the Bad Guy™. I am fully aware of that. But if you want to be purely honest and technical, that doesn’t invalidate Luna’s faith because (spoilers) the other Astrals fight Bahamut to save the world. They hear her cries and the come to fight on behalf of Lucis and Noctis and all of Eos and they kill Bahamut even when that ensures their own destruction.

But we’re not actually here to talk about whether the Astrals deserve Luna’s faith in them, we’re here to talk about why insisting Luna’s faith is, by nature of being a faith, treated like a flaw and why it is treated like something so weak it only survived to this point because Luna didn’t face anything “bad” enough to “snap her out of it”.

Spoiler alert, it’s not a flaw and it’s not weak.

Going back to something I have mentioned several times already: Niflheim is an empire run by people who actively want to kill the very beings most of the planetary population worships. The very same people in charge of Luna’s life for twelve years, starting from when she was twelve and very emotionally vulnerable and traumatized, hate the Astrals. I repeat: They hate the Astrals. They have devised weapons to try (and spectacularly fail) to kill them. Half their continent is a winter nightmare-land because they tried to kill Shiva the Glacian and she went “haha, nice try, lemme leave a fake corpse here that constantly pumps out freezing temperatures and blizzards”.

Am I seriously, honestly, supposed to believe that these people didn’t try to tear down her faith at every single opportunity? That Ravus wouldn’t have tried to bully and cajole and harass her into abandoning her faith because he knew that her faith was what kept her walking her chosen path as Oracle and that said path was destined to kill her? Am I seriously supposed to believe that Luna didn’t spend those twelve years having to sit there and bite her tongue to keep from raging at these cutthroat nobles as they gloated and sneered and spat on the names of the Astrals who gave Luna the very magic she uses to heal those in need?

Luna never needed Sol to come along and say “what have the Astrals ever done for you?” because I promise that she’s heard some variation of that exact phrase from everyone in her life. From her own brother to the Emperor himself she has heard some form of this question, this taunt. In the Kingsglaive movie, General Glauca even says something to the order of, “To what god do you pray? The gods do not listen.” Right before he kidnaps her.

Luna’s faith isn’t something blind, and it is not a flaw. It is a cornerstone of her character. Luna’s faith is a bloody, stubborn, tenacious thing that she has nurtured and shored up and been steadied by through twelve years of emotional abuse and physical imprisonment. Luna’s faith is an unshakeable thing that can only come from long nights spent crying into the silent dark of the room and asking “is this real? Am I right? Should I give up? This hurts so much, what do I do?” and finding the answer to be “yes this is real. Yes I am right. No, I won’t give up even though it kills me. Yes it hurts, but what I believe in is stronger than this pain.”

Faith is not optimism and it is not fanaticism. Optimism can be broken by hardship and fanaticism has no room for selfless kindness or acceptance of other people not being as devoted as they are. Faith is personal. Faith is a bedrock, and maybe it’s a bedrock that makes no sense to people on the outside, but it is a bedrock and it can make mountains move.

Just as Luna proves when she runs rings around an Empire to win the respect and cooperation of Titan and of Ramuh, to stand amid the rain and tell an enraged TideMother that “it is in mercy that men offer praise, and in shedding grace that the gods solicit worship” and not flinch because she knows she is right.

Luna’s faith is a fierce, scarred thing that has taken every kind of suppression and propaganda and poison the empire could throw at it and kept on going.

Furthermore. Luna’s faith is treated by Sol as something empty. Because when did the Astrals ever help her or comfort her or save her?

I can answer that. They helped her when they gave her Umbra and Pryna, who kept her company through her life and gave her a way to talk to Noctis. A way to reach out to a person who was not either imperial, warped by imperial propaganda, or too afraid to speak out against the empire for fear of dying. They comforted her when Gentiana became a second mother for Luna after the death of Queen Sylva. A physical shoulder to cry on, a sounding board to bounce fears off of, a well of advice when it was asked of her, a rock to retreat to when Ravus turned away from her and the empire continued to control as much of her life as they could.

Gentiana, who is really Shiva in disguise, has been with Luna since she was a small child.

One of the Astrals themselves has been with Luna for almost her entire life. Has guided her, has comforted her, has led her to safety as she fled Insomnia’s ruins.

Shiva had no reason to do that. The Oracles have done their duty since the time of Aera without her help or company. Shiva didn’t have to stay. She didn’t have to linger and offer comfort and become Luna’s friend. She didn’t have to listen to the last words of a scared young woman who wanted only to see her fiancé one last time and promise to carry them to Noctis in the event of her death. Shiva didn’t have to cry on behalf of Luna. Shiva didn’t have to help Luna remember what it was like to be an ordinary woman (“Yet others need not hide their grief. Is she [Luna] so different from them?”), and in fact, if Shiva had played up to most of the stereotypes, she would have done the opposite and done her hardest to suppress any part of Luna’s personality that wasn’t her Oracle duties.

But she did. Shiva was there, and she remembered. Shiva loved and we as a fandom may yell at the Astrals a lot for not doing more to take care of the Starscourge, but of all of them Shiva gave the most because she came down and she lived, and walked, and loved this Oracle, this scared child, this frightened, weary woman who couldn’t even turn to her own family for comfort. Shiva’s husband Ifrit was betrayed by humankind and yet Shiva still defended them, she kills Ifrit to protect the man (the king) that Luna loved.

And at the end of the game, in those final moments outside the Citadel, when it’s just Noctis and his Retinue against all of Ardyn’s armies of daemons, when Luna calls out to these Astrals whom she has remained faithful to her entire life, even unto her death…

They answer.

Every. Last. Astral. Who is not corrupted like Ifrit, comes down at her prayer and fights. Even Leviathan who’s only voiced lines are screaming wrath against the humanity that forgot her, even Bahamut who otherwise remains aloof in his plane of magic beyond the concerns of the mortal world. Luna calls, and they answer her.

“What have the Astrals ever done for her” indeed.

Luna’s faith is a driving force of her character, it is irrevocably intertwined with her duty, with her choices, with her desire to help people and save the world even if it costs her own life, and in the end her faith is rewarded. Not in the way we want for her, because we love the ultimate happy endings where everyone lives and nobody dies. But Final Fantasy XV was never a story about happy endings. It was a story about coming of age, and tragedy, and sacrifice. Of holding onto hope against all opposition, and of having faith that someday the dawn will return, even if bringing about that dawn requires personal sacrifice.

…

Okay this is over 5k words, I’m tired, and I’m extremely salty so I can’t really figure out how to wrap this up but there we go, my salty personal rant about why I think Dawn of the Future messed up some really critical parts of Luna’s characterization and why it’s Really Bad that they messed up those specific things.

Also I kinda despise them making Bahamut the bad guy in DotF because yes he’s a jerk and yes he really could have done the whole Prophecy thing a ton better, but in the original FFXV one of the things that made the game so heartbreakingly tragic to me is that most of the characters involved weren’t pure evil. They could be greedy, and flawed, and crazy, but in the end the source of the problem was too big to pin on one character.

Do you pin the entire thing on the god of war for his mistakes in trying to bring about peace, or the god of fire for trying to destroy humanity and no longer being there to do his job and purify the plague? Do you blame the Astrals for their hubris or humanity for theirs, because Ifrit loved humanity until they betrayed him so deeply he went mad? Do you hate Ardyn for causing the Long Night or pity him for being a victim of Somnus’s greed? Can you blame Somnus for everything even though the Scourge was going on long before him and kept spreading long after he sealed Ardyn away? The whole thing is a tragedy because at this point it’s a problem too big to fix without someone paying a price too heavy and we hate that because the characters who pay that price are the ones we grow to love over the game.

But that is an entirely different rant for an entirely different day when I am not so tired and my hands no longer hurt from writing this much in one sitting. Thank you and good night.

[jacepens]

1: HamilTurn(you can differentiate if needed) or MCU, 2: Washette, 3: Anna Strong

And generally a fandom list would be nice to know what to pick from ;) (Love you♡)

You said HamilTurn or MCU and I say both, I'm going to try my best haha. But anyway, thank you!:) Apologies in advance if this gets rambly, but that's the point of this right? Anyway, for ease of scrolling sake, I'll probably put a cut if this gets long but don't worry, it's just me talking a whole bunch lol. Ok, thank you again!! <3 (love you too!)

1. Hamilton/Turn (fandom)

Favorite character: I have to say Lafayette for both. Oh and Mary

Least favorite character: I have no real reason behind this so sorry but Burr, and Simcoe for many reasons

5 favorite ships: washette, lams, hamliza, benwash, whamilton

Character I find most attractive: ...all. But I have to say overall Brian Wiles as Lafayette. That face just…🥺

Character I would marry: Mary Woodhull or Eliza

Character I would be best friends with: you know I'm not sure, but in an ideal world Lafayette (both versions) or Ben but I feel like we wouldn't be best friends. But also everyone, is that an option? Even some of the "villains" would have good stories to tell

A random thought: I feel like most people in the fandom now are so new (they joined in with the movie release!) and unaware of the uh atrocities of back in the day. And y'all are lucky, but those of us who know. Know. (yes, I was unbearable but that's ok because I was having fun, and despite what I just said: have fun in your fandoms even if you're "unbearable", just keep it welcome to all and enjoy the enthusiasm you have for it:))

An unpopular opinion: Oh boy. Maybe stop making quick judgments about people based on what they write/who they ship? There is a line, but I've genuinely never seen it crossed by anyone at least openly sooo just let people have fun? And don't say anything about something? Unless it's actually harmful but even then, keep it to a dm or something and have an open discussion. Just let people vibe, please? Especially younger fans. Just, I’ve seen a weird amount of negativity towards them. They’re kids having fun, we all used to be like that so please, be kind and patient. They’ll learn if they make a mistake. Ok? Ok cool:) (maybe not unpopular but still I wanted to say it)

My canon OTP: Am I allowed to say lams?

My non-canon OTP: washette, wow, who would've guessed? xD

Most badass character: Mary my beloved

Most epic villain: Robert Rogers hands down

Pairing I am not a fan of: no one murder me, but in general I'm just not a fan of jamilton. also whatever was the deal with Anna and Abe

Characters I feel the writers screwed up (in one way or another): um. Where to begin? Honestly I think every woman in Turn at one point or another, except perhaps Peggy in my opinion. Oh but especially Anna. Also Simcoe. With Hamilton, probably again everyone at some point, but the way Angelica was written just feels so overwhelmingly fictional it bugs me. (But at least Hamilton had some genuine relationships between women, not great but still)

Favorite friendship(s): Ben and Caleb, Washington and Lafayette (what?? yes, you fools. lol). It may sound a tad ~cringey~ but I generally like Hamilton's vibe with the boys, maybe it's just the gender envy, but it's kinda cute and fun.

Character I most identify with: well jeez, I won't lie but Washington. In both versions, except god knows I could never be that chill. Also a dash of Laurens.

Character I wish I could be: wow what a loaded question ummm. I don't want to be like him, but I want to be like in his position so Hamilton lol. Playing an active role but I know personally I am not cut out for a battlefield, so a desk suits me well.

2. MCU (fandom-that I am so out of date from, please take all of this with a grain of salt)

Favorite character: so when I was younger it was Tony Stark but now it’s definitely Wanda and T’challa

Least favorite character: ummm. I genuinely couldn’t tell you, I’m very out of date

5 favorite ships (canon or non-canon): wandavision, …ngl I can’t think of anymore, I honestly never shipped many and wandavision was like the only couple I remember really liking. Oh, I don’t know them but Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie

Character I find most attractive: embarrassing confession time, Loki was my first bad celebrity crush. Wanda now and Shuri is cute. Also Sylvie

Character I would marry: if I could, Wanda 

Character I would be best friends with: Vision and Peter Parker

A random thought: y’all it’s been so long since I’ve touched MCU I should catch up/refresh shouldn’t I?

An unpopular opinion: I don’t know if this is an unpopular opinion but I’m going to say it anyway. Personally, I really don’t like the movie Civil War, I think it’s what sorta made me disinterested in mcu. It’s been years since I’ve watched it so maybe I would have a completely different opinion if I saw it today, but at the time it just felt so...wrong? And childish? I literally don’t even remember why they were fighting or how that movie even ended (I feel like it just wasn’t satisfying??) but I think also, as a kid or teen watching that, it reminded me sooo much of the dumb drama that, you know, kids get into. I mean, getting your friends on someone’s side like that?? Like, I know they were mad but- but there are other ways of dealing with emotions??? And involving everyone's friends too? So yeah, it just felt off to me at the time, and looking back now, from what I remember, it just frustrated me. Especially as a kid who deals with dumb drama like that all the time, kids would want to see a better example especially from adult superheroes or at least not be reminded of the bs they have to go through sometimes. But, rant over, that’s all just my opinion:) 

My canon OTP: wandavision

My non-canon OTP: ummm. I guess just Loki/Mobius and/or Sylvie lol

Most badass character: I have to say Natasha but actually there are many

Most epic villain: when I was younger I liked that Ultron was voiced by Robert California from the Office lol

Pairing I am not a fan of: I don’t know if it’s popular but I never liked Tony and Pepper. What happened with her?

Characters I feel the writers screwed up: I guess I’ll say Thor because I just felt such a weird difference in his personality that did not make sense to me

Favorite friendship: Wanda and Pietro!! Honestly I think a lot, there were a lot of good friendships but I can’t think of which ones are my favorite

Character I most identify with: ummmmmm. 

Character I wish I could be: My gut says Thor

3. Washette (ship-bless you<3 get ready for rambles oh no)

When I started shipping them: So I first had the thought in 7th grade while my history teacher was talking about them and my little brain went: haha that’s pretty gay. (teacher keeps talking about them) wait a fucking minute, that is pretty gay! But it wasn’t until I got sucked into Hamilton that I really started actively shipping them by reading fics and what not, but something about them became an instant favorite. And later (little personal story time) I pretty much completely stopped reading fic and being active in fandom for years and actually, when I got my first panic attack that - no joke - lasted for 5 hours, for some reason my brain (as it’s decaying lol) said I want to go and reread all my favorite washette fics and also do what I was I always too scared to do. Write!! So that night I binged the fics and found myself falling in love again, feeling all the old passion I had for them again, and the next night (still very shaken) I wrote an outline of a good ol washette confession + kiss that was extremely thoughtful and good, and honestly, I have not actually used that outline yet! Maybe I’m saving it. But yeah, this is a long answer, but I have a weird amount of attachment to them and this ship, I wish I knew why too. <3 

My thoughts: so many. Too many. First of all, I love that I have so many versions of them in my mind, right? When I started writing, I had never watched Turn but then I did and then it was like: hell yeah, another washette set. At this point, my brain has created it’s own unique version of them but it’s like, they’re so versatile! That’s one neat thing about this fandom as a whole, we get more than one character and personality and that’s just fun right?! More specifically on washette I mean, they’re just so sweet. Historically, their relationship is unique and cute, and you’d have to be a fool to think that to Washington Lafayette was just another friend. Even strictly platonically, it was something special and it’s so obvious I just love them. Ok. Enough thoughts for now <3

What makes me happy about them: the loooove, the comfort they found in each other, the fact that like every person at the time documenting them knew and understood they were special to each other like, they were just that in love. 

What makes me sad about them: oh so much that I try to ignore lol. There is the one year when Lafayette went to France and all his letters to Wash are like: “I have not received one letter from you, but it’s ok, I love you and I know you love me too :)” WHO WAS NOT DELIVERING THESE LETTERS, I HAVE NAMES, NOW I WANT ANSWERS. Anyway, also just most things that happened when Laf went back to France. And then when he visited America in 1824 and visited Washington’s grave. Yeah. ow. (also, you know what, I have done too much research on this event. lmk if you would like a post)

Things done in fanfic that annoy me: Generally, I’m not annoyed by much in fanfic at least with them and what I’ve seen. I’m still nostalgic for the old school nonbinary Laf fics, so it ain’t those. Literally maybe it’s because I’m starved for content but I can’t really think of anything, I love it all.

Things I look for in fanfic: back to the whole starved for content thing, I am a library of washette fics but I think if I was to pick a certain thing that I would love it’s just um fluff? And honesty, if that makes sense. Love confessions are very good as well. Canon era, please :) pining but not too much that it hurts me lol

My wishlist: literally all my wips. If I could whisk them into existence I could die happy and knowing I have put a variety of washette content in the world. Something else though, more fics :’) I love writing but sometimes I want to curl up with a cozy, new washette fic like a cup of hot chocolate and be surprised and learn something new and just..yeah:)

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: what. Ok but actually, Martha and Adrienne because they are both honestly perfect for them and I love them too (I’m going to be biased, especially Adrienne)

My happily ever after for them: Can Lafayette just move the family to America? But also, it’s sad, but like I know Laf would be sad in America while France suffers. So...maybe a world where things in France go better and Lafayette gets to visit Washington more often and bring the family!! (Washington visit France too??)

4. Anna Strong (character)

How I feel about this character: I like her! She’s fun and…strong (oops lol) and she’s made some mistakes sure, but I feel like she did her best to learn from them and move on

Any/all the people I ship romantically with this character: Honestly, I know they didn’t have a lot of interaction in the show but Anna/Mary has potential. And Anna/Edmund

My favorite non-romantic relationship for this character: her and Ben and Caleb

My unpopular opinion about this character: I really can’t think of anything unpopular

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: in general, her having more screen time with less men you know? I mean like one-on-one kind of scenes. Also I would’ve liked to see at least her and Selah talk. Like, really talk. They never really did that, right? I just have so many questions about them

Favorite friendship for this character: Anna and Ben

My crossover ship: I have no idea

And well, I know it’s been a few days but for a fandom list, I’m just a weeb lol but here

Octopath Traveler (my beloved)

Fire Emblem: Three Houses

Star Wars

Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812

Persona 4

Zelda (to a point)

Pokémon

What We Do in the Shadows

Sailor Moon

Literally anything historical

Ok!! I tried to add a lot because I’m not sure what you might know or not haha. But thank you again!! I had fun <3

[datawyrms]

Weathering the Storm

Dannymay2020 day 23: Lightning (AO3)

It was odd to see Danny so clearly aggravated when not in class, shoulders hunched and arms crossed as if the world has personally offended him this morning. “I mean it, when I find Johnny I’m shoving his Shadow down his throat for this.”

“It’s just bad luck Danny, it can’t be that much trouble,” Tucker didn’t seem all that concerned about his mood, and it stuck the teacher as rather odd. The Fenton boy was a chronic work dodger and consistently late, but threatening people by name was new. He had dismissed the boy’s brush with destructive tendencies as a one off thing as the behaviour had not continued, but perhaps he had been too hasty. Even if the threat was ultimately nonsensical, the vehemence had sounded quite real.

The boy scowled at his friend, “I got struck by lig-” he broke off mid sentence as his eyes caught sight of Mr. Lancer. Was he afraid that his teacher was overhearing him? He had dropped his arms and somehow slouched more, doing his best to be as small and unnoticeable as possible. Had he done something to cause such fear in his student? He could think of a few incidents that would make the boy dislike him, certainly, but not fear him.

“Hi Mr. Lancer!” Tucker showed no such hesitation, moving as if to block his blue eyed friend from his sightline. “The report isn’t due until next Monday, right?”

“That’s correct Mr. Foley. If you have it completed by Friday I’d be happy to suggest improvements you could make over the weekend,” he answered, not that the boy would do that. He’d extended the offer several times, and the little trio didn’t seem all that interested in actually using it.

“Thanks, just had to check!”

Tucker had been acting as a distraction almost, seeing as Sam and Danny had slunk away as he’d taken up most of Mr. Lancer’s attention. It was odd. Did they really think they had to go to such lengths? Danny’s words had been a little concerning, but not something to think he’d be punished over. He would simply need to keep an eye on them today, if he was unintentionally causing fear he had a duty to correct that. The boy had enough trouble learning as it was.

Mr. Fenton was incredibly jumpy. Usually he’d slump at his desk to the point one could argue the lad did not even possess a spine. Today he seemed almost hyper alert, eyes darting and fingers constantly fiddling with a pencil or paper as the heavy rain battered against the windows. Yet whatever he was on such high alert for, it wasn’t what they were discussing, his answers just as lost and confused as they were when he was half asleep. He was starting to worry it was indeed his presence getting the child so distressed until a booming crack of thunder followed by a blinding flash of lightning from the storm outside painted a very different picture.

He’d practically slammed his head into his desk, hands over his head while looking as stiff as a board. Even when the moment passed the black haired boy was slow to uncurl, only doing so fully after getting some sort of affirmative nod from Tucker or Sam.

When had he gotten such a strong fear of thunderstorms? The last time such a storm had come to Amity Park he had been perfectly fine. Or at least, had not reacted this strongly. If he was struggling to focus because of the storm, he had to do something to help.

“Mr. Fenton, a word please?” he said as Danny attempted to slide out the door at the end of class.

“Yes?” his teeth were gritted, the rest of his body language still reading as terribly stiff, almost like an over-tightened string.

He waited a moment before responding, not wanting to embarrass him by having other students overhear the question. “Is it the sound or the light that bothers you?” Danny wasn’t one to answer questions at the best of times, so being direct was an unfortunate consequence.

“The-what?” His brow furrowed, fingers clenching around the backpack more tightly. He did seem genuinely confused, but it could just be his teenaged pride not wanting to admit he had a phobia.

“I do not wish to embarrass you Mr. Fenton, but your reactions to the thunderstorm outside have been rather noticeable,” the boy squirmed a little on the spot, eyes darting at the door as if wondering if he could make a run for it, “Would studying in a room without windows help with that?”

“I’m not afraid of thunderstorms.” he looked away, hand clutching at his shoulder. The rolling rumble of thunder warning that another bolt was coming made the boy visibly flinch, turning and darting out of the room without being dismissed.

He couldn’t force him to take offered help, but couldn’t understand who Danny thought he was fooling. People who were safely indoors did not usually run from thunderclaps. If he thought his friends would be more forthcoming he would consult with them, but they had proven to be just as stubborn. Still, there was plenty of school day left. The boy might change his mind.

-

“Why does he have to pay attention to me today of all days?” The half ghost moaned, face buried in his palms, lunch untouched.

“I told you not to break his motorcycle.”

“I’m going to shove it in a thermos and bury it next time,” his eyes flared a brilliant green, a helpful elbow from Tucker making him cover his face again.

“Is the bad luck making the flare ups worse?” Sam frowned at the muffled green light, eyes watching the rest of the noisy cafeteria. 

“Sorta?” Danny managed to look up, returning to rubbing at his shoulder. “I got hit by lightning on the way here.”

Tucker winced in sympathy. “Owch.”

“Three times.”

“I’d wonder how you survived that but this is you we’re talking about.” Sam still looked concerned, fiddling with a wristband.

“My ectoplasm just loves it apparently. I don’t think I’ve been this wide awake in months,” he returned to bouncing his leg up and down, as if unable to keep still.

“You gonna eat that?”

He shook his head. “I’m not even close to hungry, go nuts.”

Tucker helped himself to the untouched meal “You feeling okay though? That still had to hurt.”

“Other than feeling like I’ve been chugging coffee all day, yeah.”

“Which is why you keep rubbing at your shoulder. Because you feel fine.” Sam scowled as the half ghost looked at the ceiling.

“I do, really. I can just. Feel the lightning coming and it throbs a bit. It’s more annoying than anything.”

“Creepy. The scars start showing up again?” Tucker leaned closer, eyes narrowing at his friend’s neck.

Danny snorted, batting his friend away. “They’re not green at least. Yet.”

“Maybe you should just put the sweater on now then? Unless you want someone to notice you have scars on your arms that weren’t there this morning.”

“It’s so hot in that thing! It’s in my backpack, don’t worry about it.” he stopped mid shrug, wincing seconds before a flash of lighting.

“Hair.”

The now white haired boy ducked down, muttering crossly as he fumbled with his bag.

“Good thing no one pays attention to the loser squad.” Tucker managed to keep back a laugh by confirming absolutely no one had noticed his friend's sudden dye job.

“No kidding.” Danny groused, reappearing with sweater in hand, hair back to it’s natural black. “If this keeps up I’m going to start falling through things again.”

Sam bit her lip. “Maybe you should just skip?”

“And go where? Outside and get struck some more? No thanks. With my luck I’d get mode locked or something.”

“You could just stay invisible.”

The hybrid considered it, but shook his head. “If I’m stuck here I might as well get credit for it.”

“Well if you start glowing, I don’t have any idea why,” Sam warned, earning a small chuckle from the both of them.

-

Danny’s anxious behaviour only seemed to intensify throughout the day. He stuck close to his two friends as usual, but was never completely still, always moving or jiggling, eyes always darting around as if he had to stay alert from an unknown threat. Just watching him was exhausting. For someone who insisted he was not frightened, he was grabbing on to Sam or Tucker with surprising regularity. The two of them didn’t seem to mind, almost as if they were used to this sort of thing. Strange. By the end of the day the boy was bundled up in some oversized sweater, which only made him look even more pale and stressed out. Perhaps he could suggest private study time for days like this to Jazz, he might listen to his elder sister.

Well, he probably wouldn’t, but not doing anything was giving him that terrible twisting guilt gut that did not care if he couldn’t force help upon people who refused it. He would suggest it tomorrow if this behaviour continued. The final bell was practically a blessing, the school quieting as teacher and student alike filed out into the dreadful weather, colourful umbrellas giving a small reprieve from all the grey. Usually he had to stay longer because of a detention, but the lousy weather seemed to curb any desire to skip out on class. Small blessings. With a folder snugly underarm and umbrella in hand he headed towards the exit closest to his car and froze.

Danny was still here? He could barely make the boy stay in class when it was in session, and here he was lurking near the exit like some sort of frightened cat.

“Mr. Fenton?”

The boy lept in surprise, back slamming against the wall as if he had to escape quickly. Yet he didn’t seem to be holding anything to cause trouble with. Just himself, the beat up backpack, and the sweater he was doing his best to melt into. “Mr. Lancer?” his voice was almost a squeak.

“Are you sure you’re alright? I notice you don’t have an umbrella.” Perhaps sticking to facts and not suggesting the boy was scared could convince him to take some help this time. He practically looked to be on the verge of a panic attack.

“Oh! Yeah! Forgot it, I’m fine.” he sputtered, but the speed of his breathing slowed. He’d been that startled?

“I have a spare if you need it. Do you plan to walk home?”

The pale boy squirmed under his gaze, eyes darting behind him occasionally. “I’m fine. Jazz can give me a ride.”

The teacher looked out the window and frowned. “I don’t see her car Mr. Fenton. Did you forget to ask her to wait?”

He swallowed, apparently not expecting to be caught in his lie. “Must have. It’s okay, she’ll come back.”

Lancer crossed his arms, trying not to sigh. Why did teenagers insist on being so bullheaded? “There’s no reason to force her to come back. I’ll give you a lift.”

Danny looked as if he’d offered to chop his head off rather than provide a dry way home. “No it’s okay! Thanks though. I’m good.”

“Are you too afraid to go outside right now?” The question was blunt, but it was only the two of them, and he wasn’t going to leave a terrified boy alone in a darkened school because he said he was ‘okay’.

“I’m not afraid!” he insisted, grabbing at his shoulder yet again. A tell to his lies? “Really, I’m fine and she’s already coming.”

“Then I suppose I’ll wait with you until she arrives.”

His wince was expected. “Y-you don’t need to do that.”

“Oh but I do Mr. Fenton. I will not leave a student unattended after hours, making sure you leave safely is in my job description.” That, and keeping him from causing trouble in the school unobserved was also part of the job.

“Could you like. Not do your job then? Please?” he slumped at Lancer’s significant stare. “Didn’t think so.”

“Do you plan to wait until the storm passes? It could go on all night Mr. Fenton.” To be so afraid as to not even walk to where a car would be waiting was incredibly severe, and it wasn��t sitting quite right with him. He almost seemed more afraid of being observed than anything. Did his parents discourage showing any kind of fear? No, everyone knew the boy was afraid of ghosts, so it didn’t add up.

“No. I’m just waiting for you to mind your own business.” he muttered into his sweater, arms crossed in his own little act of defiance. 

“Unfortunately for you, your well being is my business while you’re here.”

“Unless Dash is involved, then I’m invisible.”

He could have sworn the boy’s eyes changed for a moment there, amplifying the bitterness in the child’s tone. “I was under the impression he had stopped, as you haven’t brought it up since.”

That got a laugh, though his eyes remained icy. “Nope.”

Too many students and not enough eyes. He couldn’t know everything, though it would explain why he wouldn’t be more open, if he was under the impression he would be ignored. “You can tell me about it now, and I can look into it.”

“No thanks.” he rubbed at the same shoulder, brow creased in what looked to be pain.

Always rejecting help. Well, he’d at least make sure he wasn’t alone until he chose to leave.

It was a good thing he had, too. The latest flash of lighting prompted a grunt from the teenager, who appeared to have tripped over his own feet. So badly that he couldn’t even see the foot that must have twisted, he might have broken something. He managed to catch him before he hit the floor, wondering how the boy felt so cold even when bundled up in the sweater. “‘The Metamorphosis’ Mr Fenton, are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” he squirmed out of his teacher’s outstretched arms, standing easily on a foot he could have sworn must have twisted too far to be uninjured. “I just tripped, sheesh!”

Yet in his speed to be on his own to feet the sweater had shifted, granting Lancer a glimpse of his arms. Angry green scars that seemed to glow with their own light made the boy’s fear of lightning suddenly very understandable.

After all, they knew there had been an accident, but not what it had entailed.

“You were electrocuted, Mr Fenton?”

The boy gulped, hastily hiding the scars as if it was some sort of dirty secret. “I’m fine, really.”

“You don’t have to be fine. ‘Great Expectations’ Danny, it is perfectly understandable to be frightened if you had a serious accident involving electricity.”

The boy blinked at him. “What. You-you’re not weirded out?”

Was he embarrassed because the scars were green? Honestly, teenagers. “I assume whatever accident you were in involved your family’s inventions. Considering I see ghosts every other day, ghostly electricity scars seem almost quaint, Mr Fenton.” Sure, he did question how it had happened, and had some serious concerns about his family’s safety practices, but it was more important to let him know he would not judge him over this little affliction. “I suppose they only show up in weather like this?”

“Mmhm. It’s no big deal, really.”

No big deal he says, while acting like a jackrabbit all day. “It does make your hesitation to go out with lightning striking understandable. However, it would be better if we could get you home. Would bringing the car closer help?”

The boy groaned again, rubbing at his forehead. “Sure. I guess.”

“I’ll be right back then.”

Which he was, pulling the car right to the curb was easy enough. Yet Danny had up and vanished. He probably should have expected that, the boy was incredibly slippery when he wanted to be. He hadn’t spotted him leaving, yet he could spot muddy footprints being washed away by the unyielding rain. Where had he snuck off to? Further pondering was lost to the sound of someone yelling in pain, and it felt uncomfortably familiar. The voice’s owner couldn’t be far, so he gripped his umbrella tight and went to check it out.

“Four times? Whoever said lighting doesn’t strike twice is a dirty liar, and I hate them.” Phantom was muttering furiously at the ground, sparks cracking around his white aura. “Stupid Shadow.”

Well, the ghost was a teenager. At least he seemed to be more annoyed than seriously hurt, the scream had been rather unpleasant. Probably best to leave the ghost alone. He seemed nice enough, but the constant warning from the Fentons did make one a bit wary. If his help was just an act, being alone with him was probably not the safest thing in the world. Yet as the ghost took flight something about him struck him as oddly familiar. Had there been glowing green scars on the ghost’s neck? No, the ghost was always glowing, and the idea was absurd. He must have been mistaken.

[mandadoration]

raise the stakes

summary: The Mandalorian and Carasynthia Dune have you, their sweet little mechanic, to themselves, ambushing you under the guise of leaving to get a bounty. Thank the Maker you’ve dropped the Child off because it gets a little hot and heavy in the Razor Crest. 

word count: 4, 299

Pairing: (sorta established) mandalorian x reader x carasynthia dune

warnings: smut, threesome (MFF), oral sex (male and female receiving), face sitting, face fucking, multiple orgasms, dom/sub undertones, praise kink, pain kink, creampie, unprotected sex, overstimulation

a/n: Same universe as settle the debt, but can be read as a standalone. Filthiest smut I’ve probably written thus far. 

Read this on AO3

---

Something… is definitely up when you walk back onto the Razor Crest. Cara is looking at you with a wicked smile on her face, and Mando… well you can’t exactly tell what he’s thinking, but it can’t be good when he gives Cara a curt nod. At some point they’ve gotten really good at communicating wordlessly, but something tells you that this was something discussed while you were busy actually doing your job instead of scheming. You drop your bag of tools by the hatch that is closing up behind you as you look between them with narrowed eyes. There’s some kind of tension rising in the air, and it makes you uncomfortable and shift where you stand. Not because there’s animosity, but rather it’s the lack of. You’re used to the playful competitiveness between the two, or even the worry that can stuff up the air after a dodgy mission, but this is some sort of inside joke that you are an outsider to. But whatever is lingering in the air is palpable. 

“The ship is in working order,” you announce, voice ringing clear in the quiet hull in an effort to try and clear up the tension, but the suspicion in your tone is too clear to really assuage anything or convince the two to let you in their shared secret. “Cleared up some gunk that was causing the weird sound. And I dropped the kid off with Greef Karga with some choice words. We should be good to go, but I recommend refueling before a second jump to hyperspace.” You receive no answer, but Cara does settle in her seat as Mando gets up and stalks towards you, for lack of a better word. You always seem to forget how formidable he seems. Probably because you’ve seen him fall asleep with the kid in his arms once or twice. After that, the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy tends to stop being so scary. You cross your arms as he walks right up to you and stand your ground. “Would anyone care to tell me exactly what’s going on?” you ask bluntly. 

“What do you mean?” Mando rumbles, and you have to look up at him with how close he is. He’s close enough that you can smell the lingering scent of blaster fire and whatever he polishes his gleaming beskar armor with. He completely engulfs your view, and when you crane your head around to try and look at Cara, he follows to stand in your way. You huff in annoyance. 

“You know what I mean,” you say. A step to the left, and Mando follows with barely any lag. A step to the right, and the same thing happens. The only thing Mando really moves for is when you take a step forward because he takes one back. Other than that, it seems like he insists on being nearly chest-to-chest with you. How childish. “Mando,” you sigh, “didn’t you say that we had some kind of bounty to go after?” The helmet tilts. 

“I did, didn’t I?” he says. You raise an eyebrow. He sounds like he’s entertaining you, as if you were some child. 

“Yes, you did,” you say slowly. “Which is why I did a checkup on the Crest and dropped off the kid with Karga. You know, like you pay me to do?” Although you suppose that the payment is less that and more like he gives you an allowance to spend when occasion allows since so much of your funds are essentially shared. Mando remains as impassive as ever. 

“And?”

“And,” you continue, frustration bleeding into your tone, “that means we should get going. Karga isn’t going to look after the child forev-- oh my goodness--” Your sentence dissolves into nothing as warm, calloused hands run over your shoulders and down your back, eventually settling on your hips as searing kisses are pressed to your throat. Mando takes this as his cue to swoop in, slotting his leg between yours as you’re effectively sandwiched between two bodies before you can think twice. Now you can see that Cara is no longer lounging in her chair. Mando runs a gloved finger down your face and over your lips before dropping it down to start working on the buttons of your mechanic’s jumpsuit. The other comes up to cup your face, nestling your jaw in his large hand. You blink. 

“What were you going to say?” Cara muses, voice muffled but all the same teasing as she sucks what’s sure to be a dark mark at the junction of your shoulder. She moves to the other side, nipping at your sensitive skin high above the collar to make sure you wouldn’t be able to hide it easily. You faintly register how Mando has managed to pop enough buttons open to slide his hand in to fondle your breasts over your undershirt. “Sounds like you lost your train of thought.” And it’s true because you don’t even have an inkling of what you were talking about before, the heat quickly building up in the pit of your stomach as you grasp at Mando’s arms in an effort to ground yourself to something. Mando grinds the cold cuisse of his beskar against your heat and your eyes flutter shut. You still try to save face. 

“Well I was- I was interrupted,” you gasp out. Mando unbuttons the rest of your jumpsuit all the way down to your navel and starts sliding it off of you, humming in appreciation when you slides your arms out to help him. 

“Here’s your chance to finish your train of thought, then,” he says. Cara’s hands leave your hips for a split second to let Mando pull your jumpsuit all the way off until it pools around your feet before her hands are right back on you with a bruising grip. You fumble around for the last thing you remember. 

“We have to-- We have a bounty?” you say, but it’s really more of a question as Mando slides his hands around to continue to strip you bare. Your shirt proves more of an issue, however, but Mando just simply grabs the collar of your shirt with his hands and rips in clean in half. “Hey--!” Your complaint is smothered by Cara sticking her fingers in your mouth, pressing down on your tongue as she shushes you and then praising when you instinctively curl your tongue around the digits. He leaves your panties on, much to your annoyance, now damp with your slick and leaving marks on the cuisse that you’re grinding against. Mando flicks a nipple, and you jolt. 

“Do we?” he asks in that stupid teasing voice he’s been using this entire time. “What do you think, Cara?” 

Cara merely presses her body flush against yours as her fingers leave your mouth to dip into your panties to play with your clit, dipping down further to collect some of your slick before going back up to start rubbing in slow circles. “I say,” she mutters, “that we have some time before we have to go.” You try and fail to swallow a moan at the husky tone of her voice. Mando gives a noise of agreement, and he takes off his gloves before he joins Cara’s hand at the apex of your thighs, moving aside your panties to run a finger over your entrance. You’re certain at this point the only thing holding you up is the fact you can barely move between the muscled bodies of Cara and Mando. 

“How much you-- ah, wanna bet that Karga will ask for mo-more payment for having to-- Maker, watch the kid for longer?” you stammer out. Cara and Mando loved to take their time with you, and you had only told Karga it would take less than a week at most. You were going to be wonderfully sore by the time they were through with you, which would certainly put a damper on your plans to follow the two out to get the bounty. The last time you were left alone you had to kill another damn bounty hunter that was looking for the kid, but not without being bedridden for an entire week and a half when a blaster shot clean through your thigh. Honestly, you thought they would be done by now, but still they came to collect the evasive little womp rat. Thank the Maker for bacta, and bless the Maker for the attention Cara and Mando had showered upon you including basically waiting hand and foot for you, but you were not going to let more hunters catch you slipping. “Yo-you know he does grow tired of playing- playing babysitter.”

“Well, Mando, what do you wager?” Cara asks. She presses a little harder against your clit. 

“I’m not betting when I already know Karga won’t say a word,” Mando responds. “He likes spending time with the kid.” You can feel Cara frown from where her mouth is pressed against your hair. “How about this?” he says slowly, and slips a finger into you. You cant your hips up. “How many times do you think we can make her cum?” Mando offers, and in no time he’s stuffing another finger into you. Cara’s frown turns into a pleased smile. 

“30 credits to say we can make her cum at least 3 times,” she says. 

“That’s it?” Mando says critically. 

“The amount of credits or the number of times?”

“Both.” You can feel Cara shrug. 

“Then feel free to raise the stakes, Mando.” Mando curls his fingers in you, and you cry out, legs nearly buckling under you as you reach behind you to tangle your hands in Cara’s hair. She grunts, and starts circling your clit faster. 

“50 credits,” Mando says, voice dropping lower than before, “for at least 5.” You can feel a rush of wetness gush out of you as Mando slips in a third finger with ease, and for a second you think they’ve sort of forgotten you can hear them. 

“M-Mando,” you moan. Certainly at this point you were being entirely held up by the two. At the call of his name, the Mandalorian starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, obscene squelching filling the air over your pathetic moans. Cara pretends to think about it. 

“75 credits for 6.”

“Deal.” 

And then Cara speeds up substantially and Mando is fucking you on his fingers and suddenly you’re cumming so much that your vision goes white for a split second. You faintly register how wantonly you’re moaning, but you’re too concerned with clenching around Mando’s thick fingers and scrabbling for purchase in Cara’s hair to care. It’s utterly indecent and you’re so glad the child isn’t here because the guilt would weigh too heavy in your heart to know they would’ve been an unwilling listener to whatever was happening right now. You rest assured in knowing he’s being spoiled silly by Karga, and curl your toes in your boots. Mando maybe says something about this being ‘one out of six’, but you can’t be too sure. You were concerned with making you didn’t pass out with how hard your orgasm had slammed into you.

As you come down, you realize at some point that they’ve lowered you onto a small makeshift nest of blankets and pillows that you really don’t know how you didn’t notice before. Mando’s pulling off your boots and tossing aside your jumpsuit as Cara arranges you on the floor, and you can practically feel how they’ve got their eyes glued on your heaving breasts as you drag in deep breaths to try and calm your racing heart. 

“You planned this all along,” you accuse, breathless but still chock full of false venom, pointing a finger between Mando and Cara. “You-- mmph-!” Cara interrupts you again by capturing your mouth with hers, immediately slipping a tongue when you open yours in surprise. She pulls back much too soon, and she pushes you back down with ease when you try to follow her up, wanting more. 

“You talk too much,” she says, stroking your cheek and softening the scowl you have on your face. Mando pulls your panties off all the way and stares at your blushed hole, glistening in the low light of the Razor Crest. “We should fix that.” You huff and try your best not to feel too self-conscious with how Mando keeps looking at your pussy. The temptation to try and kick him from your position on the floor is overwhelming.

“Well if you stopped interrupting me I could--” And Cara ducks her head to kiss you again and cut you off, but you can’t really complain because her mouth is warm and inviting. You close your eyes in pleasure, focusing the feeling of her lips moving against yours, but you can feel the air shift around you as Mando and Cara move around. It’s weird to feel Cara’s mouth move as you stay stagnant, and when you open your eyes again, you find that they’ve switched places. Cara kneels between your legs as Mando is unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his pants, palming at his hard cock over his underclothes. 

“Maybe you just need something to occupy your mouth,” Cara teases. She gives your thigh a sharp slap. “Flip over.” You scowl at her, but do as she asks, turning around to lay on your belly. You expect her to hunch over to give attentive kisses down your back as you know she loves to do, but to your surprise, Cara hooks her strong arms under your hips until your face is squished against the layers of blankets, and your hips are swaying in her face. You shiver when your pussy is exposed to the cooler air of the ship, and even more when Cara’s hot breath fans over it. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking up at Mando through your lashes when he pulls out his cock and strokes himself slowly, smearing his precum around the head, but uses whatever wetness is left on his fingers from your cum. He scoots forward, and you obediently open your mouth to take him, moaning in tandem with Mando when Cara’s tongue licks a broad stripe up your cunt. 

“Fuck,” Mando groans. His cock rests hot and heavy in your mouth as you try to calm your spinning head and focus on him. That proves a challenge when Cara is quickly bringing you up to that crest again, licking into your pussy and spreading your cheeks by digging her fingers into the flesh of your ass. If it weren’t for the fact your head was spinning with lust, you would’ve probably felt extremely embarrassed with how receptive you are, swaying your hips and pushing back to chase after that mind-numbing pleasure again. Mando takes pity on you and slowly starts thrusting into your warm mouth, a tender hand brushing your hair out of your face as tears start gathering at the corner of your eyes whenever he hits the back of your throat. Everytime you gag, his cock jumps a little. But thank the Maker that Mando is doing most of the work because it’s hard to really focus on anything other than Cara’s mouth on you and oh-- now she’s pushing in a finger and you’re arching your back as you let out a muffled moan. Mando hisses at the vibration and twitches his hips forward. You bunch up the blankets under you in your fist as you fight the urge to gag again. 

“You’re missing out on this sweet cunt, Mando,” Cara says, pulling back to give you a mere second of reprieve before she dives right back in. 

“So you are you,” he rasps. He grabs your hair, pulling until you whine at the sharp pain, and then starts fucking into your mouth in earnest. “Her mouth, fuck, is so warm.” Cara slips in two more fingers next to the first, scissoring you open, and you really think you can’t feel anymore full than you already are. “So eager.” Her tongue is wicked on your clit, and you start to clench around her fingers. 

“You close?” Cara mutters, her voice thick with lust. You garble something unintelligible in response. 

“Her mouth is a little, hah, preoccupied at the moment,” Mando says. 

“I wonder why.” And Cara gives a particularly hard suckle on your clit and this time your orgasm washes over you in a hot tide instead of slamming into you. Mando pushes in a little deeper, wiping away the tears that fall from your eyes as your throat constricts around him, cooing praises at you through the crackling of the voice modulator. Cara slows her ministrations, but keeps her fingers in your pussy as she lets your ride out the aftershocks. You think you’ve finally calmed down lazily bobbing your head as you try to catch moments of air between it, but Cara drags her fingers out of you and gives you a few short slaps to your pulsing cunt. These two were going to be the death of you. 

“That’s two,” Mando notes, his tone too casual compared to how ruined you already felt. Could you really handle four more? Cara hums and continues to smear more of your wetness around your already sopping wet core. She breaks her gaze from your center, to your flushed face, and to Mando. 

“Wanna--”

“Yes.” 

Mando slides out of your mouth with a pop, a thread of saliva connected you two, and you keen high in your throat when their combined body warmth fades, looking up pleadingly up at Mando with glazed eyes. They both laugh, low and deep in their chests, and Mando strokes your cheek affectionately. “Calm down,” he soothes. Instead of moving around like you expected them to do, Cara pulls you off of your hands and knees and up against her back, sliding you down until you’re comfortably on your back. Mando rubs his cock between your lips, gathering the slick there as Cara pulls her pants down and kicks them off to join your own discarded clothes. “Shit, you’re wet,” Mando hisses. Cara swings her leg over your face, swaying her hips over your face and laughing when you try and crane your head up to meet her. 

“Told you so,” she says to Mando over her shoulder, and then she’s lowering her hot cunt onto your waiting mouth. You give a moan of appreciation that turns into a moan of need as Mando pushes the blunt head of his cock into your entrance. He doesn’t push in all the way, just teasingly back and forth until you whimper and wiggle your hips at him. You lick into Cara, circling her clit with your tongue, diving down to her entrance to lap at her wetness before going back. She sighs happily. 

“And I told you,” Mando responds. “Sounds like we’re even.”

“For now,” Cara breathes. Mando finally pushes fully into you, his thick cock seemingly splitting you as he presses those inches into you. It’s dizzying, and far better than the fingers either of them had given you. Now you can’t even complain that you’ve cum twice before this. You’re not quite sure how Mando could’ve fit if it weren’t for the fact you’ve already been worked open and slick with want. Still, Mando hisses and has to move slowly as your pussy stretches around him. When he fully bottoms out, you scrabble at Cara’s thighs, leaving red marks in the wake of your nails. She lets out a flitting laugh at the yelp you give as she pulls your hair. “Don’t wear her out too fast, Mando,” she says. The entire exchange sounds a little muffled, Cara’s strong thighs covering your ears as the strong, corded muscles flex with every little kitten lick you give. It’s a different kind of suffocation compared to sucking Mando’s dick. You are entirely engulfed with Cara’s presence, and you could die happy from where you are. 

If only the two devils would leave you alone to bask in your satiation instead trying to wring your very soul from your cunt. 

“Bold of you to assume she’s anywhere near tapping out,” Mando replies dryly, and drags his cock out before working on pushing back in again. You whine again when he does, and Cara yanks on your hair to bring your attention back. Then, low in your ear, “You’re not done until I say you’re done. And that’s not gonna be until I’m satisfied.” This is when you start to wonder how much of this is them betting over you, and how much is them trying to prove something. Both of them have incredible stamina, and you’re already worn out. 

“Don’t forget about me,” she teases, mock threatening with the strong hold she has on you. At this rate you were going to go bald with how they seem to be enamored with pulling your hair. But honestly her words don’t hold any promise because she grinds down into your face and there’s no way you can ignore her unless you passed out from the lack of air. 

Actually you may not be too far off. 

Between you trying to drag in breaths whenever Cara takes pity and lifts up now and then, and Mando punching the breath right back out of you, it’s hard to breathe properly. Especially as he thumbs short, quick strokes on your clit, timing it with every sharp thrust in. “C’mon, sweet girl,” Mando murmurs. “I know you’ve got another one in you.” The coil in your stomach is winding tighter and tighter as he adjusts his grip and swings one of your legs over his shoulder, driving in harder, and suddenly Cara’s grip in your hair is grounding more than anything. At the new angle, he’s hitting that sweet spot that makes you wail under Cara. “C’mon,” he urges. “Cum for me.” 

You mumble something, and Cara lifts just enough to let you speak. “I don’t- I don’t know if I can,” you stammer, squeaking when Mando gives you a sharp slap to your thigh, and Cara lowers herself back down. 

“Yes, you can,” Mando and Cara say simultaneously. Mando cranks up his thrusts until you can feel yourself shifting upwards with each motion, inch by inch, and if it weren’t for the blankets under you, you would’ve expected some nasty marks. 

Somehow Mando draws another orgasm out of you that leaves your legs shaking and toes curling as your run red marks down Cara’s thighs in an effort to express the waves of pleasure washing over you. At the same time, Cara nearly properly sits on your face, moaning as she cums, gushing wetness all over your lower face, chasing after her own orgasm. 

Mando hunches over at the vice grip your pussy has on his cock, and his hips stutter in their motions as he buries himself as deep as he can, and another feeling in you bottoms out when the hot spurts of cum coat your insides. His moaning sounds broken through the vocoder, so much so you nearly mistake for a guttural growl. You barely register the how your eyes roll to the back of your head, and you think you’ve definitely blacked out at some point because when you come to you’re sandwiched between the two on the floor, Cara pressing more kisses to your collarbone and chest and Mando stroking your hair. 

“You good?” Cara asks softly. You blink, staring up at the ceiling of the Crest before you realize you were supposed to answer. 

“I think I pulled a muscle,” you say weakly, and your voice is a little hoarse. The two huff a laugh, and you settle deeper into the blankets and pillows, sighing contently. You don’t even mind that you feel gross and cum is dribbling out of your pussy and cooling on your thighs. 

Well, actually you’d rather not think about it. It’s pretty gross. 

Cara runs a thumb over the skin on your ribs, right under your breast, tenderly. Your entire body is thrumming with aches and wonderfully sore, and you really don’t know how you were supposed to help Cara and Mando with the bounty. 

“The bounty!” you gasp, startling the two around around as you try to get up. Cara puts a firm hand on your chest and pushes you back down. 

“What are you talking about?” she asks.

“The bounty we were supposed to get!” you elaborate, trying to shove her hand off of you as you try to locate your clothes. “I told Karga it wouldn’t take too long and--” Mando and Cara laugh. Although it’s in good humor, they may as well have laughed in your face. 

“There is no bounty,” Mando says, humor lacing his tone. “We just told you that so that we can have you to ourselves.” He brings you back down and tucks your head into the crook of his arm. 

“You work yourself too much,” Cara adds. 

“Oh,” you say. Your voice sounds small. “Wait, does that mean I did pre-flight checks for nothing?” The memory of being elbow deep in black sludge surfaces. 

“Yeah.” You frown, but resign yourself to snuggling closer to Mando and slinging your leg over Cara’s hips, closing your eyes as a wave of exhaustion washes you. 

“Ah, what do you think you’re doing?” Mando asks. He pats your face a couple of times to rouse you, and Cara reaches down to cup your heat. Cara grins, and you would bet the rest of your rations that Mando was too. 

“We still have a bet to settle,” he says. “And I’m thinking about raising the stakes.”

---

Forever Tag: @mabelleen​ @mando-vibes​ @isaissafail @adikaofmandalore 

[moonbeamsung]

under the cut you will find my comprehensive brain dump about hot sauce <3

okay in addition to all the shitposts i made about the album as i listened for the first time, i have so much i wanna say about each track so here we go, even if no one reads this i don’t mind because i’m just posting it for myself! this is 15% semi-professional-sounding album review talk and the other 85% is me freaking out lol

hot sauce: someone said this is zimzalabim’s brother and i can’t stop thinking about it, but unlike that song it honestly didn’t take multiple listens for me to like the song itself. the only thing that was the slightest bit off-putting about it was the higher pitch of the chanting (which i still don’t know if i’m imagining or not) but i don’t mind it as much as i used to. the beat is so interesting and funky and the latin-ish(?) sound of some parts suits them unexpectedly well :,) all the members’ voices are so distinct and i think they all got a chance to shine, like even without looking at the line distribution it just seems pretty even to me when i listen. okay now onto the mv i think it’s super cool and when i saw it for the first time it felt like there was a lot going on and it was a little overwhelming but i think that’s just because it was 5 in the morning and my senses were overwhelmed lol (like the lyrics say o_o (i think??)) also JISUNG’S DANCE BREAK I AM ON THE FLOOR. he sounded so good sjdfbds. renjun’s adlibs (in the final chorus especially) are really something else and his lil duet part with jisung in prechorus 2 is amazing showstopping never been done before etc etc. haechan’s high note and jeno’s and mark’s (side note i can’t believe we really have 7dream again :,)) and jaemin’s raps and chenle’s voice throughout the entire thing are just,,, perfection omg. overall i love this song so much and think it was a great title track for them!!

diggity: IT GOES SO HARD IT’S CRAZY. first of all here are some timestamps that make me lose my mind: 0:30 i swear the adlib sounds like mark but the video shows that it’s renjun and he sounds😳whew. and 2:48.....jisung.........i can’t do this............for maximum pain watch a clip of him talking from 2016/2017 and then listen to this part but warning you may cry. HE SOUNDS SO SKDFBL WHEN DID HIS VOICE GET SO DEEP🥲like i knew it was but this is just. another level lmao but anyways, the bridge in this song as a whole sounds amazing!!! i’m very much in love with really small moments like the little “na na na”s in mark’s rap and the way they sound, sorta minor in tone. also love how the beats build up to the chorus each time and i just wanna bop my head to it! it seems like i hear new little harmonies and adlibs every time i listen and it’s such a nice mix of vocals and strong raps :)

dive into you: the VIBES of this song??? i liked it from the teaser but as i listen more and more it gets even better it seems. like imagine a summer roadtrip to the coast because that’s what this sounds like.  mark and jisung really started things off with one of the catchiest raps i’ve ever heard and everything about it is so perfect😩jaemin and jeno singing >>>> and chenle chose violence with his high note and hearing all the harmonies from every single one of them makes me so happy :> they’re so beautiful like aaaaa. also i just love the minor-sounding notes (that’s a favorite thing of mine can you tell) in the chorus with the “you-ooh” parts. VOCALIST JENO AT 2:36 IS THE PRETTIEST THING I’VE EVER HEARD DO YOU HEAR HIS HARMONY. can’t forget vocalist jisung either, any time he sings i’m just🥰which has happened a lot this cb which is GREAT :DD and then on top of all that, the track video is adorable and they look so happy!! driver haechan doesn’t hurt either lmao AND THE PERFORMANCES OF IT ARE SO CUTE TOO LIKE HHHH

my youth: something about this song sounds so nostalgic and it’s going on my driving playlist because it just gives me such a carefree feeling, like being on the highway or driving through a city at sunset. it’s really chill and it’s one of the softer songs on this album so it balances out the harder-hitting tracks :) jaemin’s rap is so nice, reminds me of how much i love his voice :( i heard a clip of them singing this song live and it doesn’t sound the slightest bit different, it really shows all their singing talents🥺

rocket: omg definitely another favorite of mine on the album, it’s so upbeat and reminds me of dream run!!! also it’s moonshine produced so you know it’s going to be a total bop. for some reason it feels like something that would play on a rollercoaster if they had music, the scales and the synth make it sound really fun and it’s extremely enjoyable to listen to, makes me wanna dance around :) jaemin’s rap with the little star wars line is cute hehe. and chenle’s “level up” part, he sounds SO GOOD! from the bridge towards the end, that’s my favorite part, it’s such an energetic beat and, like, bouncy? i guess? that’s not the best word but i really really really love this track☺️☺️☺️

countdown (3,2,1) : besides the fact that mark decided to k word me with that “explOsive” line at the opening i love this one too! it sounds futuristic almost. i never knew how much i needed to hear jisung say “control freak” before this and his singing voice at 1:15 and 3:11 and 3:24 is just wOw—plus his RAP I’M NOT GONNA RECOVER FOR A WHILE😔🤭......also love the transitions from jaemin into mark and then jeno for that part in the bridge and the buildup it has to the final chorus. i think haechan’s and renjun’s voices sound so good on this track like at that softer part? aND HOLY HECK IS HYUCK THE ONE DOING THOSE ADLIBS TOWARDS THE END BECAUSE IF SO DAMN. yes boys you are very dangerous

anl: why couldn’t they have just called it all night long because everyone’s reading it wrong🤠this one is really chill and i think the way it sounds kinda matches the vibe of their boring ver. photos, if that makes sense. it’s also going on my driving playlist!! i don’t know what to call the little twinkling sounds at the start but i love those, and mark’s voice is so soothing in this song🥺something about the way renjun sings “sky high” is gorgeous and jisung’s parts with the harmonies are truly a blessing to the ears :] the chorus sounds so inherently dream and i feel like track itself has something mature about it? (not in that way geez) but like it just shows how far they’ve come music-wise/vocally

irreplaceable: except for mark’s one english line in the bridge (you know the one don’t make me type it) (but it doesn’t make me cringe quite as much anymore) i also adore this song☺️if this track had a video, i’d picture it looking something like the cafe 7dream content. it sounds really acoustic and warm and like they could just be casually singing it together in a cozy cafe or studio! also, i realized that it reminds me of another dream song when i hear it and i figured out that it’s bye my first hehe. HAECHAN’S HIGH NOTE IS WITHOUT A DOUBT THE BEST PART, MARRY ME SIR.

be there for you: literally the renhyuckle ballad we’ve always wanted!!! i don’t even have that much to say because it’s just so beautiful, all three of their voices blend so well together and it’s such a comforting track. nct’s slower and softer songs like this are very distinct and have a gentle kind of power. listening to it feels like a hug and the harmonies and high notes and the extent of their vocal ranges are just so, so amazing.

rainbow: for all the times i’ve cried to it, i still love it :,) those first lyrics from chenle make me want to bawl my eyes out simply because his tone there is so nostalgic and pretty and sad-sounding, and reading the lyrics makes me even more emotional (or maybe i’m just overly sensitive oops). the softer raps and angelic vocals and every little harmony and adlib are EVERYTHING, this is another song that just suits the unit so well. regardless of their positions this track proves that every single member is beyond capable of being a vocalist. i don’t know why it seems like such a sad and nostalgic song to me, but it’s also really hopeful at the same time. it’s like this dreamscape of emotions (no pun intended), and the video is so otherworldly and enchanted it seems almost magical. the colors and the playground set? their expressions and interactions with one another? i swear, their friendship and bond is unlike any i’ve ever seen. this track also makes me think of how proud i am of them, and i wanna give them all the biggest hug in the world🥺

if you decided to read this whole thing i would like to say i’m sorry for the ramble but also thank you for being interested in what i had to say :)