#If that arc was a fic I would have clicked off it

[moldy-flowers]

Naruto time travel fics are so popular even the Boruto animators wanted in on that crap

[marigoldenblooms]

An Important Lesson - One-Shot

Pairing: Professor!Wanda x Fem!Reader (MINORS DNI - 18+)

Prompt: After years of rigorous study, you were nearing the end of your graduate program. Companionship had become a figment of your imagination, until your film professor caught your eye. Taking something from her desk, you hope you could catch hers- and you got more than you bargained for.

MINORS DNI - 18+

Tags: Who is Y/N I don’t know her, Dom!Wanda, Sub!Reader, Porn with plot, teasing, orgasm denial, vibrator use, thigh riding, Mommy kink, Professor kink (sparingly), no aftercare, slight dub-con, dumbification, praise, dom/sub dynamics, power imbalance (professor/student), age gap (Reader is 26 while Wanda is 34), brat taming if you squint. 

A/N: Holy balls, I did not realize smut was so hard to write. Major kudos to all who seem to do it so effortlessly! I know I envy ‘em. This is my first foray into writing this kind of fic (my university’s spring break has brought a lot of writing firsts), so if you have any feedback I’d love to hear it! This is also vaguely proofread! Wanted to do some practice before the evental sex in Unica Sempter Avis (Because USA is certainly an Abbreviation of All Time), and other ideas I’ve got cooking up. I'd love to write another part to this, if y'all would be down! Thanks y'all again!  Edit: An Important Lesson is getting a second part! Read a teaser here! >:)

Word Count: 2.5k - Read length: 9 minutes, 5 seconds.  Pictures aren't mine, credit to their owners! ~~~ 

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing, and yet here you were. 

Professor Maximoff’s classroom was overwhelmingly quiet, dark and empty with familiar rows of tables curved in a half arc around her desk, pushed off to the side. She’d always pace within the front few rows where you sat, and you’d have to crane your neck to keep her in view when you weren’t scribbling down paraphrases of what she said. She taught Advanced Film and Media Critique, which generally lended itself to analyzing the shit out of old TV shows. Maximoff was a difficult professor, but you weren’t looking for easy, especially in your graduate program. After a few years of working your ass off to make enough money, you’d wiped the floor with your bachelors and now you were vying for your masters, in your last few weeks of grad school. And you knew Professor Maximoff liked you, which didn’t make it so bad. 

You knew other things about her too - for instance, there was no way she wasn’t a lesbian. Whenever you’d raise your hand her eyes would snap to you, and you swear her face would curl into a smile that was beyond professional. You’d catch her staring in your direction during exams on multiple occasions (to be fair you did the same when she wasn’t looking, but that’s besides the point), and you swear up and down that she winked at you during your midterm. She’d hold onto your hand a little too long when you turned in papers, and always offered ‘tutoring’ sessions which you humbly declined in the beginning of the semester, your grade being nigh perfect in her course. Between that, the short nails, tailored suits, and the rings- oh, so many rings- there was no way your professor wasn’t gay, and possibly had the hots for you. Your studies had been your priority over companionship for so long,  And now, within a few weeks of your final, why not make a move?

Heist films had been the topic of last week’s lecture, and so nicking something small would be a good segway, right? You’d return it to her tomorrow after class, mention something flirty (perhaps about stealing her heart), and see where it went. If you were lucky, you’d have her number by the end of the course, and perhaps take the older woman to coffee after your final exam. You’d bring her to the movies, but that might turn into more of a lesson than a date. 

As you’d pluck a pen from one of her desk drawers, you notice that it was slightly heavier than most. You clicked it once, then a second time- and nothing happened, so it went into your pockets. You’d move to exit the dim room, before a plaque caught your eye- her degree. It was neatly pressed into its frame: Wanda Maximoff, Masters of Arts in Film and Media Studies. You remembered her mentioning she was working on her doctorate, a proud grin sparking at that. Perhaps you’d get to know more about her dissertation and herself shortly. ------------------------------------------

Class went by faster than most, although it didn’t help that you were anxiously awaiting the end of Professor Maximoff’s lecture. She had worn a trim fitted sleeveless blouse and buttoned pants, both beautiful shades of burgundy. A myriad of gold rings decorating her hands as she’d motion with them through her talk. You’d have to keep your eyes off her fingers, nose deep in notebooks as you’d scramble to collect her words before your incoming final exam. 

“And what is the significance of I Love Lucy’s laugh tracks?” Wanda would ponder aloud before your hand immediately shot up, the lone attempt out of your fifty or so classmates. She’d grin at you, “Yes, dear?” 

You almost forget what you were about to say, holding onto the vestiges of it as you’d sputter, “Oh, uhm- yes, well, I Love Lucy didn’t have laugh tracks, mostly- they were the first sitcom to have a live studio audience.” Her eyes would crinkle with mirth, and you could tell immediately that you had the right answer. You tuned out her words as your mind would swim, thinking back to the weighted pen in your jeans pocket. The pet names were new, settling a joyous fuzz both in your mind and between your legs. It was things like this that had you on the back foot- this was your chance to get her back.

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

“And I’ll see you all in two days,” Wanda would return to her desk, sitting atop it rather than in the chair behind it. One of your classmates had asked why in an icebreaker towards the beginning of the semester, and if you remembered correctly she said ‘Just like the view from up here,’ or the like. If you’d been on the same track mind as now, you probably would have noticed how she stared at you during her spiel, a detail only discovered in hindsight. Now, you had all the pieces. 

You pack up slowly, shimmying your belongings into your overly stuffed bag. Hanging back until there were few students left, you flag her gaze with a hand and an upturned smile, “Professor, I was wondering if I could..” Your words would halt in your throat, thoughts thickened and syrupy as she’d look down to you, head tilted a degree off kilter. Would it be embarrassing to admit you’d never been this close to her before? Her lips would be pursed, but would break into a wild grin, and you felt yourself melt right there. You weren’t a teen anymore goddamnit, focus- “Talk-” you’d squeak, clearing your throat hastily to camouflage the blunder, “Talk with you, after class. Professor.”

Her brows would raise, and you could almost see the cogs rotating in there. Her eyes would dart within the now-empty room, adjusting her position on the desk- and it’d become increasingly obvious (you can deny it no longer) that you were standing directly in between her slightly parted legs. This wasn’t how you were expecting it to go, but here you were. She’d start taking off her rings. “Of course, darling,” she’d tease again with a roughened lilt. Those damn pet names. “What do you need?”

“I think I have something of yours, Professor-” Your mouth would open a few seconds before you’d speak, and you swear she’d smirk at how she had you, devoid of any thought. Something about her had you smiling and kicking your feet, and boy did she know it. Without any further bravado, you’d pull out the pen, “I hate to say it, but I think you’ve stolen-”

“Oh,” She’d breathe, Wanda’s face tinting with a pinkish hue, yet her smile only grew larger. Her gaze would narrow, voice dripping with a sultry air that almost knocked you off balance, “I didn’t let you borrow that, did I?”

“No Professor,” you admit, beginning to launch into your story, before she’d shush you- shush you, words piling up into a lump in your throat. 

“And do you know what it does, darling?” She asks, her tone a breathy whisper now. You swallow, shaking your head no. She fucking giggles. She takes the pen from your hand, clicking it three times, and it’d start to buzz. Oh, my god. It was a fucking vibrator.

“Too dumb to even recognize what this is? And I thought you were so smart..” She’d tease, a flush forming on your face in tandem with a shiver down your body. You open your mouth to speak, and yet her warm, calloused fingers would clasp your jaw shut. “Shhh, don’t want your pretty little head to even think, darling. How about Mommy show you how it works, hm?” 

You’d nod immediately. She’d abandon the toy, clicking it off as her hands would slip beneath your shirt, and it felt like time had frozen. She was so soft, and your mind glazed over. Your breath hitched as she’d trail upward, palming your skin before running her fingers over your bare breasts. You’d watch as Wanda’s pupils would blow in seconds, a devious smile bubbling into view, “No bra?” She’d murmur lowly shaking her head as she’d start to knead your flesh, “Just couldn’t remember it, hm? My precious student, too busy thinking of me to get dressed, were you?” You nod again, a pitiful mewl escaping your throat. 

“Yes- Yes, Professor..” You arch into her touch, although that bliss was short-lived as you feel her dig her hands further into your tits, sharper than you’d like. She’d tsk at your reply, and you look up to meet her eyes- oh, that was the wrong answer. 

“Did you already forget my title, baby?” She’d ask almost tauntingly, her gaze sharpening as she’d shift her hands from your skin. You’d chase her warmth, dazed as your skin would flush and tremble, slotting yourself up against her. She’d run her thumb over your lips, crooning at your immediate submission. She could use that. 

“It seems Mommy has a lot to teach you, dear..” Her touch would ghost across your exposed forearms, her feather-light touches only stuttering your breath further. “And I think you’re ready for your first lesson. Think you can handle that, darling? Keep your eyes on me,” Her hands would dig into your jeans, rougher against the hem’s fabric, “Think you can take this off for Mommy?”

“Please..” You beg, raising your hips to strip yourself bare, your glance trained on her. You don’t miss how her eyes darted down to your bare cunt, having slid off your panties too, or how she licked her lips at the sight of your slick. Her hands would hold your legs open, the cold lecture hall’s air chilling your exposed skin. Still staring at Wanda, you’d discard your shirt in the same breath, her jaw clenching as all of you felt the cool air. Feeling exposed, the urge to flee ebbed away some of your arousal. Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom? Your focus was immediately drawn again as she’d capture your chin in her hand, pulling it harshly to meet her gaze. Her eyes were dilated, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow as she’d pant, both from your disobedience and your thighs rubbing against hers. “Look at me,” she’d hiss, taking your lips into a searing kiss. Your answer? Fuck. Yes.

Your cunt would grind against her leg as Wanda would pull your hips up and onto her thigh, grip bruising as your lips would crash together. You could smell her vanilla perfume as she’d tug at your bottom lip with her teeth, a familiar buzzing sound heard but not registered before you felt it on your clit. “Mommy- yes, Fuckin’ christ, there-” You’d keen, lurching back as Wanda’s hand would rest on your hip, keeping you from escaping her touch.

Wanda would groan at your words, voice a little breathier as her hips would stutter against yours, “There’s my good girl..” Teasingly, she’d circle your clit with the pen-shaped toy, gasping herself as she’d feel the aftershocks of its pulse on her clothed cunt. “Taking Mommy’s toy so well..such a sweet girl for your Professor-” 

You’d rock your hips against her, the friction from her dress slacks and the vibrator’s pulse bringing you to the edge embarrassingly quick. Wanda wouldn’t notice your frenzied breathing or how you lost your rhythm, but she would hear your words; drawn between husky whines, “Mommy, please, I’m so close, fuck-” Your face would flush, legs beginning to tremble before the whole feeling was ripped away from you, Wanda’s grip leaving as the buzz would click off. With shaky breaths, your eyes would rise to meet hers- only to see a teasing grin. She’d pat your arms, gently coaxing you off of her thigh, the few sparks of friction from that not enough to bring you anywhere close to your release. You’d blink, thoughts thickened and reeling, brow furrowed ever so slightly for her- and Wanda loved it. 

“You did so well for your first lesson, dear..” She’d croon, brushing herself off as she’d rise to her feet, leaving you on her cluttered desk. “But, Professor, I didn’t-” You’d begin and she’d silence you right there, hand rising to close your jaw shut again. 

“And you won’t come unless you call me by my title, darling. You’ve received your correction for your first mistake- and for stealing from me,” You nodded slowly, absorbing her words as though they were molasses, and her smile only widened at how dazed she’d made you. “And if you disobey again when you’re with me, alone- then I’ll lower your grade by five points. Understand?” 

If you were in any kind of fog before, you cleared it from your thoughts immediately. “Yes, very clear- uhm,” You pause, noticing the stain on her pant leg where your pussy had ground into the fabric, and you feel your face warm. Wanda would shift her stance and you’d look up- she leaned above you, a single brow raised. You’d swallow, keeping your eyes on her completely, “Yes, Mommy- I understand.”

“Good girl.” That was the right answer. She’d smile at you, her praise going straight to your cunt. Could she not have given you a few more seconds? Maybe you could’ve gotten off without her noticing. She’d interrupt your mind with a quick peck on the lips, and you felt your wits slow, swimming with thoughts of her mouth. Oh, that was why- couldn’t get away with anything if you didn’t think anything at all. Wanda’s grin would only intensify as she’d watch you dress, clothing rumpled from the haste it had been taken off. After a few minutes, you were back to prim and proper..besides your racing heart and flush whenever Wanda so much as moved. “This was great..” You’d murmur, pressing the wrinkles from your shirt, gaze flicking back up to Wanda’s- your professor still watching you with a smooth, secretive smirk. 

“Of course it was, dear..but it’s still nice to hear you say that. Anything for my best student,” She’d wink at you and you’d fold, feeling your palms clam up. Since when were you this weak in the knees? She’d settle at her desk again, her hands clasped together on its wooden grain. You’d be taller than her now, with her sitting down- and yet there was an aura she commanded that you couldn’t outdo. You turn to leave without any further fanfare but her voice would seize you again, just as warm as her touch. “I’ll be expecting you after tomorrow’s classes, then? I think some…after-hours remedial work for my course would do you well.” 

Were you really about to fuck your professor in her own classroom, again? You’d leave her hall with a bright smile, a reply, and a secret. Your answer? The same as before - Fuck. Yes. 

And your secret?

You’d stolen the ‘pen’ again.

[macabr3-barbi3]

Pillow Talk- Vox x Reader

(Banner made by my love, @fraugwinska 💛❤️💛)

A Vee Tower maid, you get an eyeful- and more- when stuck hiding in Vox's closet after Alastor comes back to town.

Tags: the Alastor body pillow; Dry Humping? I think that's what it would be; Accidental Voyeurism; Cunnilingus; One-Sided Alastor/Vox; Vaginal Sex; improper use of electricity lol; maid outfit; a tiny bit of hypnosis but not regarding the sex

[this is almost a crack fic honestly I laughed way too much writing it xD this was inspired by a few pieces of art- as soon as I can find the artists I'll link them below!]

So technically, you weren’t supposed to be here. The entire cleaning crew knew that the main apartments of the Vees were off limits unless they specifically asked for them to be serviced- you, specifically, would not be a welcome sight, especially by the CEO.

But when Vox had spotted you outside his office he had barely spared you a enough of a glance to get his hypnotic eye swirling before he had very explicitly stated, “I want every single thing in here put back where it belongs,” and apparently, to your will-bent limbs that meant even the fucking throw pillow on the couch needed to be returned to his home.

The blue striped fabric clutched in your arms, cleaning supplies left in one of the numerous cleaning closets, your feet took you to the elevator, pressing the button for the elevator to take you up to the penthouse. You were sweating a bit in your uniform- despite how little fabric the damn thing had (courtesy of Valentino deciding “if we have to fuckin’ look at them they might as well be hot” when hiring a cleaning crew, apparently) you were still nervous about going against established orders for implied ones. If Vox found out you had been in his section of the penthouse, in his room, Satan only knew what he would do to you.

That shouldn’t have excited you a little as you thought it, but it does- your breath comes a little quicker as you had entered the key code to Vox’s sector of the penthouse floor, thankfully empty as you enter and where you now stand. The television is playing something from the news, Vox sat at his desk with some sharp toothed red deer demon in the frame with him, mouth turned down into a frown and spewing vitriol- you caught some snippets of speech from the low volume, something about him being a fossil, outdated, et cetera. It wasn’t surprising- Vox and all of the Vees were all about innovation, updates, upgrades. If this guy was into older tech it made sense that he would take personal offense to that.

When you try to toss the cushion onto the couch your arm freeze, unwilling to release the fabric- which meant it wasn’t a couch pillow but a bedroom one, and your feet turn to take you in that direction. The door opens without a lock, and the room that greets you is a little neater than you would expect from the CEO of the company, being as prone to outbursts that the staff had to clean up as he was. The bed was made up, and finally your compelled brain allows you to throw the pillow out of your grasp to bounce harmlessly on the bed. Order satisfied, you’re about to turn to leave when the lights snap out with an audible click.

You freeze in the darkness, worried somehow that you’ve been caught, but they flicker on mere moments later. Another tentative step towards the door, and that’s when you hear it- a crackle of electricity from the living room, not unlike an arc flash, one that you’ve heard enough times working in this building to know what it means.

Vox is back.

In hindsight, it was fucking stupid. You probably had better luck explaining yourself, telling him that his command earlier had forced you up here against your better judgment because of course, Vox, sir, you knew that the penthouses were off limits. But your prey brain reverted to instinct, doe ears dropping against your head, and you bolted to the nearest safety- the closet. 

You can hear him coming closer, his voice increasing in volume- “that ancient fucker, thinks he can just come back to my fucking town, in my fucking section like he never- fucking dammit, Bambi, I can’t believe-” He just keeps going and you shuffle further back into the clothing around you, the smell of his soft cologne enveloping you as you descend. You can see light peeking through the slats of the doors, and it vanishes as he quickly approaches. The door flies open and you squeeze your eyes shut, waiting for a sharp clawed hand to land on your arm and haul you out but it never comes.

He grabs something close to you, something soft you had been inadvertently leaning against, and slams the closet door closed again so hard that it swings back open, another crack that light leaks through. Despite your better judgment you lean forward, peek through the slats of the door at what is happening in the room. He throws the item he had grabbed against the bed, and it bounces at an angle so that you can see what it is.

A body pillow- with that guy from the television on it, his red outfit unmistakable even not knowing who he was just from a quick glance. He wears a sly smile on his face, eyes half-lidded over a monocle, a frankly stupid haircut that came to his shoulders with tiny antlers peeking out of it. Vox is still bitching, and this time you catch a name: Alastor. Your boss kicks his shoes off, rips his jacket from his frame, and falls to his knees on the mattress, bringing the pillow close and slotting it between his thighs.

You stop breathing.

He falls forward and braces himself on one hand, the other scrambling at his fly to bring out an impressive erection that you can tell even from this distance must be painful, faintly glowing a bright blue at the tip before fading to the darker shade of his normal skin at the base. He strokes himself once, spreads what looks like a fair amount of precum over his length before he releases his grip and dips his hips into the pillow, now free hand clutching at the fabric between his fingers. 

“Alastor,” he moans, and the low timbre of it shoots straight through your core, thighs clenching together as you stand stockstill in the darkness of the closet. “Oh fuck, Alastor, Al- fuck, fuck,” and his hips are driving into the pillow all the while, the bright tip of his cock occasionally peeking into view from your vantage point. 

You bring a hand up to clamp over your mouth, to try and muffle your breathing as you watch the private act and shift closer to the wider gap in the doors for a better view- slowly, silently. His voice is dark and delicious as he groans into the seemingly empty room, unrestrained in his pleasure. The hand braced on the bed is shredding the sheets, bits of fabric floating up into the air with the force of his claws dragging into them- the one on the pillow is surprisingly gentle, clenched lightly where the hair is on the image of the demon that adorns it.

Your body aches at the apex of your thighs, slick and throbbing just at the sights and sounds before you- if you made it out of this, if Vox didn’t discover and immediately kill you for witnessing this, you were going to have the most phenomenal orgasm of your fucking afterlife the moment you could get yourself alone. You’ve never wanted to be a pillow so badly in all of your existence- Hell, you’ve never wanted to be a pillow period but Vox was making it look downright tantalizing to be shoved between his legs and thrust against. 

He’s still going, his lower body moving rhythmically against the pillow and still muttering under his breath- “Alastor, Alastor, Alastor,” like he’s in a trance, can’t stop himself from saying it. His voice catches in his throat, hips stuttering then stilling while shoved hard against the pillow, collapsing against the mattress with a frustrated groan.

Everything is quiet for a moment, the only sound your muffled breathing against your hand as you peek through the door at the VoxTek CEO. Your spare hand itches for movement at your side, but you refuse- absolutely refuse- to get yourself off in your boss’ closet with him less than five feet away. You fist your fingers in the poofy fabric of the Val-approved maid uniform that the crew was made to wear, and you wait.

When Vox pulls his head up from the mattress, his screen is tinted pink in embarrassment even thinking no one can see him- he looks down at the pillow with such an earnest expression of longing that you feel embarrassed and avert your gaze for a moment, until he scoffs and you look back up to a sight you’re more familiar with. His face is twisted in anger now, and his claws hover menacingly over Alastor’s face before he snarls in disgust- at himself? At the other man?- and clambers off the bed. You watch his body move across the room, lithe muscles flexing as he moves, and only when he exits the room do you heave out the breath you had been holding, taking your hand away from your mouth.

You hear the rushing sound of water that indicates that the shower has been turned on, and you make perhaps the dumbest decision you’ve ever made- you stay in the closet instead of taking these precious few moments of him being out of the room to book it out of the penthouse. You’re not thinking clearly, so preoccupied with the arousal that it wars inside your body with the logical part of your brain saying to get the fuck out. But you’re surrounded by the sweet, heady scent of his cologne, the rough sounds of his groaning still echoing in your ears, and with your eyes slipping closed you slide a hand up under your skirt; you didn’t end up in Hell by sticking to the concept of chastity, after all.

Your free hand fists in the fabric of his shirts that hang next to your face, bringing them closer to breathe in the scent of him. The sounds he made echo in your mind, your fingers brushing lightly against the dampness of your panties, hand dipping inside them to graze your clit-

The closet door flies open, the light falling across your body and illuminating what is clearly a shocking sight to the Overlord if the glitching of his screen is anything to go by- one hand holds the Alastor pillow in a death grip, obviously about to toss it back into the closet after wiping it down with a damp rag (the sink, you realize, not the shower), probably for one of your team members to properly clean later under an oath of secrecy. Your hand is up under your skirt, the other gripping his shirts for dear fucking life, and Satan’s fuck, he was absolutely going to kill you.

You both stand frozen for a moment, still too shocked to move your hands until you see the spark of static cross between his antennae. You let go of his shirts and remove your hand from under your skirt. “Sir,” you start, and your voice cracks on the word. “I’m-” 

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, and even without the swirl of his hypnotic eye your jaw clamps closed. He lets the Alastor pillow fall to the ground, both hands free now to open both closet doors, and you close your eyes- this was it, goodbye Hell, nice knowing you. At least you were going out with a hot image burned behind your eyelids of the guy that was going to murder you.

Instead you feel the sensation of your floppy ear being rubbed between two fingers, gentle and inquisitive. When an eye peeks open again, Vox is staring at them, his gaze flicking between your ears to the tiny white spots that line the edges of your face that he can now see with the increased light. “You a deer?” He asks, his tone dark, and you heave a shaky breath.

“Yes, sir.”

He hums, a quiet noise as his other hand comes up to rest softly on your waist. “Didn’t notice earlier. Thought I told the head cleaning bitch I didn’t want any fucking deer in my tower.”

You force yourself to breathe slowly. “I had great recommendations and she said she would just keep me out of your way.”

“Great recommendations, huh? Any of your previous employers know you fucking touch yourself watching people get off in what they assume is the privacy of their own homes?”

Instinct- you try to run rather than face his questions, only getting as far as an abortive jerk forward before both  of his hands are on your hips, pushing you further against the back closet wall. His scent is fucking everywhere, a faint heat coming off his screen with how close it is to your face, and you feel the threat of claws where he grips you. “Please, I’m sorry-”

“This for me?” Vox takes one hand off your waist to grab your hand- the one that had been under your skirt- and moves it back to its prior position, just pressing against the front of your damp panties. “Or was it the fact that you were being a little pervert and I was none the wiser? Tell the truth now, dear,” he says, his eye going black rimmed and swirling, and you’re helpless to answer.

“A bit of both, sir,” you breathe, and he looks pleased at your answer, pressing your fingers harder against the heated skin under your joined hands. The words don’t stop- “I didn’t mean to come here, sir, there was a pillow in your office- and you said everything had to go back where it belonged, so-”

“Gotcha, gotcha,” he nods. “The downsides of hypnotism, huh? But it’s gotten us into an interesting situation- how much of that did you see?” He tilts his head towards the pillow.

Deep breath. “All of it, sir.”

“You must think I’m pretty pathetic now, huh?” 

His eyes still spins lazily at you. “Not at all,” you say, and the pixels of his eyebrows twitch upwards. “I thought it was… alluring. Sexy, to watch you let yourself go like that.” You glance down at the pillow, a grimace taking over your mouth. “Admittedly a little gross that you aren’t like. Properly cleaning that. Were you just going to throw it back into the closet?”

His screen tints and he lets go of you, taking a step back to kick the pillow out of your line of sight. “I have a dry cleaning lady that comes on Saturdays,” he says defensively, “it would have only been in there like two days max.”

“Sir, that’s still kinda-”

He tugs you out of the closet by the wrist and pulls you over to the bed, sitting on the edge and pulling so that you straddle his lap. “You wanna keep calling me gross or do you wanna fuck me?” He grinds your hips down onto his and you feel the hard length of his arousal against you despite it being not more than a few minutes since he had finished with the pillow. 

“Can’t I do both?”

“Cause let me tell you,” he adds, talking over you, not picking up the barb, “the sooner I can get that fucker out of my head, the happier I’ll be as your boss. And a happy boss might not decide to kill or fire you for being a- what’s the lady equivalent of a Peeping Tom? Just a slut?”

“I’m not sure there is one, sir,” you say breathlessly, and his tongue snaking out of his mouth to trail along the length of your neck distracts you from his fingers reaching up under your skirt to slide your panties to the side, thumbing your clit with soft pressure.

“S’nice that you’re a deer,” he murmurs, the tingly sensation of his lips tracing a path down your collar, letting his tongue slip between the swell of your tits, pushed on display in this fucking uniform. “Just like- shit, do you have…?” His other hand comes under your skirt as well, reaches around the back to cup your ass, and at the base of your spine-

“Oh, fuck,” he whispers when he gets a grip on your tail, fingers tightening around it in a way that makes you cry out, high and trembling. “Fuck, I gotta-” He shifts the both of you, a quick motion that ends with you bent over the edge of the mattress while Vox flips your skirt up, exposes the cute fawn spots that covered your ass and thighs, the fluffy nub of your tail above the red lace of your panties.

“Fuckin’ red,” he mutters, mostly to himself, “just like him- what is it with fuckin’ deer and red? Do you all use the same style guide or something?” When you look back, there’s a note that appears on his screen- “ask Vel about deer style magazine?”- before he sees you watching and grins. “Might wanna hold onto something, doll,” he advises, and before you can ask him why his face is pressed against your rear, tongue slipping between the slick folds of your cunt and diving in.

The shock of it makes you yelp, immediately devolving into a moan that’s lost in the sheets when you bury your face into them. The slick muscle is long and strong, reaching deep and flicking against your inner walls with a fervor you’ve never had from a partner before. You try to grind your hips against the bed, the motion aborted when Vox’s large hands come up to your waist and hold you in place so he can lick into your pussy more efficiently, keeping you firmly against his screen. He moans at the taste of you and keeps you still with one hand, the other coming down to rub forcefully at your clit. You groan into the sheets, fingers fisting in the fabric and fuck, fucking finally,  pressure and friction where you wanted it. “Vox, sir, please,” you whine into the mattress, and he moans against you, the vibration of it from his screen adding a nice edge to the pleasure. “Please, please, please-”

Tongue still inside of you, you can hear his voice, broadcast from the speakers on his head- “I’m not sure you get to beg for anything, baby,” he says, and his tone drips sarcasm and amusement. “I could leave you high and dry and I would be well within my fucking rights- maybe I decide that perverts don’t get to cum.” His tongue starts to draw back, and when your walls clench down on him in protest he fucking laughs. “I guess fucking any deer will do, though- helps that you’re fucking cute, even if you don’t really look like-”

Like him. Like Alastor. It should have been insulting, and maybe a little terrifying that possibly the only thing keeping you from having been murdered on the spot when he opened that closet was that you were a fucking deer.

Logic had no place in your body right now, though; you’d been aroused for the better part of Satan only knew how long, and you would take what you could get. Maybe if you were lucky he would just fire you after he fucked you stupid. “Please,” you ask him again, not caring if you sound pathetic about it, and he does pull off your pussy now, leaves your soaked entrance clenching down on nothing. “Fuck, sir, please-” 

He chuckles and you hear the clinking of his belt behind you, loud in the quiet of his room that’s interrupted only by your soft moans into the mattress. “Don’t worry, Bambi,” he said, using the nickname for Alastor that he had spit in anger when he first came into the room. “I’ll give it to you- give it to you real fucking good.” His hand reaches above your head and grabs the pillow that had led you in here like a lamb to the slaughter, shifts your hips up enough to shove it under them while pressing against your back. You feel the hard line of his cock against your ass and resist the urge to grind back onto it, staying put until he decides to move.

“Ohh, look at that! That’s fucking cute,” he says, and there’s a hard grip on your tail, making you aware of the faint shakiness to the appendage in his grasp. “All twitchy and needy- you always get like this when you want a cock in you?”

Your response is a drawn out whine when he finally pushes in, and fuck- seeing it glow faintly against the pillow while he rutted to completion couldn’t have prepared you for having his cock inside of you, filling your cunt perfectly and still fucking going. Vox presses in slowly, methodically, until he’s buried balls deep and breathing heavily against your back. “Fuuuccckkk,” he groans, and the rumble of it through his chest makes your inner walls spasm around the hard length of him. “Oh fuck, baby, do that again,” he encourages, a hand squeezing at your tail, and what are you supposed to do? Not listen to him? You clench down and he chuckles, low and dangerous, and there are lips nipping at your skin where the shirt of your uniform leaves you exposed. “God fucking damn, Bambi, you’re just-” He pulls back, the drag of his dick inside of you leaving sparks of pleasure that burn behind your eyelids, and shoves back in, the tip of him bumping something soft and sweet inside you that makes the evidence of your arousal drip from where you’re connected. He sets a steady pace, and you wish you could fucking see him- watch him use your body for his pleasure like he had used the pillow, mindless with it, bucking his hips with reckless abandon.

A hand wraps around your throat, gently at first before the feeling of it makes you moan and he tightens his grip, thumb coming up to brush against your lips and smearing the drool that he finds there, having fallen unbidden from your mouth as you panted with your mouth open while he fucked you. “Making a mess of my sheets, huh? I like the sound of that- fucking the drool out of you while I fuck my cum into you-”

The keening cry you try to let out at that is garbled and broken with his hand squeezing your throat, the other still having a grand old time pulling on your tail, and fuck, you think you could cum just like this. “V-Vox, sir,” you manage to get out with the pressure on the sides of your neck, “please, gonna-”

“Gonna cum, baby?” He lets go of your throat and you fall forward onto the mattress, face burying in the sheets again and muffling your sounds- he brings his fingers to your clit to circle it while he fucks you, still pulling your tail, and everything inside of you feels like its tensing and electrified around your cunt where you’re stuffed full of him. “Come on, show me how- how fucking sorry  you are for getting caught with your hand down your panties.” He brings his face down next to yours, teeth snapping in your ear and licking up the side of your face at the tears that have leaked out. “Wanna fucking call me gross now, Bambi? When you’re about to cum on my cock like a goddamn slut- fuck, so close, it’s almost fucking perfect-”

Static sparks off his antennae, and you can almost feel the thrum of electricity though his body before it ends at his finger tips, shocking both your clit and the sensitive skin of your tail where he still holds it in a death grip- that’s all it takes for you to almost scream with your orgasm and drag him over the edge with you, a soft grunt of “Alastor, fuck, Al-” as he spends himself in long, hot pulses inside of you. Static still tingles lightly at his fingertips, causing tiny jolts of pleasure that make your muscles twitch and your walls flutter around Vox’s cock, drawing your release out until you’re almost overstimulated, trying to shift your hips out from under his body.

The hand on your tail tightens in warning. “Stay the fuck still for a sec,” he mumbles, and he presses his face against your back- you can feel the heat of it through your shirt. “Just fucking- came twice in the span of thirty minutes, let me catch my goddamn breath before you try to go again.”

“That’s not-” He presses hard against your clit and your body jerks in his hold. “Not helping,” you finish feebly, and he laughs against your flank before he lets go of your body and pushes back, pulling out with a loud, wet noise that brings a flaming blush to your face. “And not what I was trying to do.”

There’s a shuffle of movement and then the bed dips in front of you- you raise your head up from the mattress to see Vox eagle-spread across the sheets, his chest heaving. “No, you were just trying to get off in my closet after watching me fuck a pillow like a fucking loser. Not sure if that reflects worse on you or me.”

You flush, and prop yourself up on your elbows to watch him- he didn’t seem like he was as angry now, less likely to murder you probably. “It’s not great for either of us, but probably a little worse for me.” You take a deep breath, tense despite the orgasm that made your bones feel like goo. “I… I don’t think you’re going to kill me now? But I do understand if you would still like to fire me, sir- this was… lovely, but I was still unprofessional, and-”

“God, just- shut up, damn, is that also a deer thing? Never being able to stop talking? I’m not gonna fucking fire you.” He throws an arm over his screen, his internal fans whirring and blowing hot air across your face. “Are you any good at your job or do you hide in closets on a regular basis?”

“First time transgression, sir.” He chuckles, and you shift a little bit higher up. “Besides- you know, this, I do a good job.”

He hums, turning on his side to look at you- or more specifically, to look at the valley between your breasts where they’re pushed up from your position on your elbows. “Fuck,” he mutters, then actually meets your eye. “Can you get a cum stain out of a pillow?”

You resist the urge to laugh. “I can do more than just wipe it down with a damp cloth and throw it in the closet to sit for two days.”

“Oh, fuck you,” he says, his screen tinting pink, but he doesn’t actually seem upset about it. “It would have gotten cleaned eventually. The point is- you’ve already seen it, I don’t think there’s any reason why anyone else needs to.”

“Your dry cleaning woman hasn’t seen it before?”

“What, you think I make a fucking habit of this?” He sits up, crossing his legs on the bed to turn and look down at you. “First time transgression, doll. Fuckin’ Val bought me that thing as a joke a few years ago, I forgot about it entirely until he came back, and all this fucking tension came along with it that I obviously couldn’t do anything about with him. No one else has seen it, no one else- no one else knows.”

“I can keep a secret,” you find yourself saying. “And yes, I can get a stain out of a pillow like that.”

His eyebrow quirks up. “I’ll take your word,” Vox says. “Tell you what- you work your magic on that fucking thing, we toss it back into the closet- properly cleaned this time- and we can discuss some kind of arrangement between the two of us. A personal contract with me, instead of the collective like everybody else. You won’t have to wear that uniform anymore,” he adds, “but I can’t say one that I come up with would be any better. I’d keep that cute tail on display though.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You stand from the bed and enjoy the way that his eyes trail down your body, even if they do hover a little longer on your ears. “Do you keep any hydrogen peroxide in the apartment?” He blinks at you. “Bleach? Rubbing alcohol? Fuck, baking soda and vinegar?”

“I’m the CEO, what the fuck do I need any of those things for? Everything I need other people will do for me.”

“God damn it- okay then, you wait here and try to keep your hands off the pillow- I’ll be back.” With a grin rivaling the one on the soiled cushion's image you turn your back to the still grumbling demon. You couldn’t believe your luck - not only had Vox not killed you but you got a good fuck and the promise of some sort of a promotion out of the situation as well. With newfound confidence, you flipped your skirt up and wagged your tail at him before you disappeared through the door to look for the necessary supplies, chuckling to yourself as you heard the grumbling turn into a needy groan.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Dec 19th

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1. Hello! I'm looking for a fic post canon in which the Lan elders get tired of LWJ and WWX going like rabbits so they give a teaching position to WWX, it sounds a lot tame than how it sounds hahaha

WWX teaches arrays and uses creative ways to make time to be with LWJ. I remember a lot of original lan juniors, all with names and Sizhui appears a little bit later. I think the story actually starts from Jin Ling POV because he's angry the Lan juniors become too good at escaping traps

Thanks a lot for your help :) @lauyuu

FOUND! 🔒 A More Practical Approach by Elhana (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, Teacher WWX, Humour, POV Multiple, Implied Sexual Content, when you just want to get frisky with your hot husband but your in-laws crave their peace and quiet, huge conflict of interest right there, WWX is resourceful, wuxia magic shenanigans, Post-Canon)

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2. Hello! Thank you all for the work y'all do <3

I've been looking for a fic called negative: shoot or smth similar with model wwx and lwj studying... smth to do with business law, iirc. wwx ends up modelling to make money but wants to study toxicology and I think there's a recurring OC by the name Tang Liwei who's a photographer. I've been trying to find the fic but I cannot seem to and idk if it's been set to private or deleted or if it's just me. Any help would be appreciated <3 @rue-cimon

2 appears to have been deleted. I clicked the link from an old subscription email and it came up error 404

FOUND? Thanks! the fic is "Negative:Shoot" by AvoOWO. (mentioning it b/c i'm not sure anyone has given the title & author yet)

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3. Hi, I'm sorry for bothering you with this request. Do you know of a wangxian fic were towards the climax of the story Jin Guangshan tries to assault Qin Su, but she knows that he's her father and stabs him. The entire fic wangxian and company know something is up with the Jin sect and are trying to prove it. Also, I think the wen sect still exists after the war and some of them are demonic cultivators who are working with Jin Guangshan? And I think earlier in the fic Jin Guangshan uses a demonic cultivation array to mess with the sect leaders durring a cultivation conference?

I thought I bookmarked it, but I went through them and wasn't able to find it. Thank you for listening.

FOUND? Back To The River (So Learn To Swim) by kalany (M, 83k, CSSR/WCZ/JFM/YZY, XuanLi, WangXian, Fix-it fic, self-reincarnation, autotransmigration, time travel adjacent Pregnancy, access to appropriate obstetrics care, Childbirth, Unplanned Pregnancy, Polyamory, Polygamy, survival sex, unwanted pregnancy ending in termination, on-page death of a child, Murder of a Child, non-explicit discussion of sexual assault, Sexual Coercion, brief glimpse of sexual assault, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon-Typical Sexism, background asexual JC, bisexual JFM, bisexual YZY, Bisexual CSSR, bisexual WCZ, Sect Heir JYLLZ) sounds like 'Back to the River (So Learn To Swim) by kalany. It's a time travel fic where Yu Ziyuan goes back in time.

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4. Hi i'm looking for a fic set post cloud recesses study arc. Wei wuxian returned to gusu to for individual study but he and Lan wanji haven't really spoken since he returned. This is all background for the fic. The main plot is centered around a nighthunt in which Lan Xichen takes wwx, lwj, jc and i think su she. They are their to restore a barrier of sorts that surround the town. The head of the town is a creep and is realised to be the reason for all the resentment trapped within the town. His new target was wei ying. Wei ying gets nose bleeds and has a ghastly encounter with a spirit while in the bath. I dont think it's finished but the last chapter ended with wei ying and lan wanji fending off the mayor guy- he falls off a railing i think. Idk why I didnt bookmark it but I can't find it for the life of me. I'm pretty sure I read it on ao3 but idk if it was posted anywhere else. Not sure if you'll be able to find it but thanks so much for your help!

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5. Hello:

First THANK YOU for finding fics its awesome that you help us that way;

Now there are 2 fics that I cannot remember well but

A- WY brings A-Juan to work he’s an office tech put him in a file cabinet LZ comes in and finds A-Juan then takes him to walk around while WY works and LXC and LQR buy stuff for him something like Gucci, Prada or another $$ stuff and a crib and more …

I know is pretty vague specially when there is a similar fic

B- this one has a lost A-Juan from LZ office and is found with WY antagonizing JC by making A-Juan press a button to mess with JC computer, WY send msg to come collect child because he is running out of red vines not sure

Thank you @bkpmystinen

5B)

FOUND? The Little Lost Piece... by Liebing (T, 4k, WangXian, Cute, LWJ dad, Business man, WWX is the IT support, LWJ is upper management, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Soft, child goes missing, Mild Peril, Happy Ending, Found Family, Modern AU)

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6. I am looking for a fic I read when I first got into this fandom. I cant remember much about it but Wei Wuxian is dead and Lan Wangji is angry at everyone who played a part (including his brother and uncle). What I remember the most is that he refuses to wear the Lan colors and starts wearing black and red, I think as both a synbel of love and grief, Everyone does eventual learn that Wei Wuxian was innocent and Lan Xichen tried to apologies to his brother but Wangji ignores him (I am pretty sure). Thank you @alyholmesz

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7. Could you help me find this fic? It’s one where lan wangji traveled back in time to during the sunshot campaign shortly After reviving his lashes as punishment and going to the burial mounds to find Wei wuxian but finding LAN shizui instead. Everyone around at the camp is confused on why lan wangji is acting strange and where the small child with him came from. @djalexdask

FOUND? Lan Yuan’s War by BurningTea (G, 196k, WIP, LWJ & LSZ, LXC & LWJ, WangXian, LWJ & WQ, Time Travel, Dad LWJ, Sunshot Campaign, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Rumours, Lots of rumours about LWJ, several people worry about LWJ, CQL Verse, Mental Health Issues, LWJ is very much not okay, Time travel has consequences, Sick LWJ)

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8. Hi! This is for fic finder. I dont remember much. It was canon divergent post war au i think. I dont know when but WWX and LWJ figure out their relationship and then gets enganged. JWY act as chaperone and bring a stick so everytime WWX and LWJ gets to close to each other, he use the stick to separate them and says that they need to get away to each other minimum as far as the stick that he hold. I think in one scene he give his stick to his diciple to chaperone them but that diciple is failed at the task. Thats all i can remember. Thanks @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

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9. Hi! So appreciate your recs!

Im looking for a fic where Wei Ying and Lan Zhan decide to dual cultivate before killing the Xuanwu of Slaughter and WY gets pregnant but nobody believes them.

I know that Wei Ying still gets thrown in the burial mounds and thinks he lost the baby but then he ends up having the baby (a-Yuan) and they have his 30 day event in a tent (I think) still around nightless city?

I know that he loses his core but because of the baby gets a new core too

FOUND! Impermanence, Transience, Permanence by Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) (E, 39k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Sunshot Campaign, Unplanned Pregnancy, Mpreg, Gore, Medical Procedures, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Assumed Miscarriage, Explicit Sexual Content, Cesarean Section, Childbirth, Golden Core Reveal, Impermanencia, Transitoriedad, Permanencia By Best Bepsy (BepsyGray) by VicoMejia73 (VicoMejia733))

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10. Hello! I’m trying to find a fic where Madam Yu and JFM lived and Madam Yu was specifically raising WWX to be a sort of bodyguard to Jiang Yanli and to follow her to Koi Tower after her marriage. And WWX felt a lot of guilt over it because he had fallen in love with LWJ and thus also wanted to get married and move to Cloud Recesses.

The specific thing I remember was a conversation between Madam Yu and JFM about WWX moving to Koi Toawer after Yanli’s marriage and another conversation with WWX, JYL, and JC talking about what WWX wants in life.

Both conversations happened at the end of the fix though, so I can’t recall the rest of the the plot, though presumably it was a Sunshot Campaign retelling.

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11. Hi! I’m trying to find a fic where Wei Wuxian has an OnlyFans and Lan Wangji finds out about it. Lan Wangji agonized over how to tell Wei Wuxian he has found it (I believe they are friends in the fic). Eventually they talk and Lan Wangji ends up helping with the OnlyFans (camera and lighting type help). Eventually Jin Zixun finds the account and sends it to WWX’s family members. That is all I remember. It was a multi chapter fic and it wasn’t very explicit at all. Thank you for all your help!! @kjwaikiki

FOUND? For a Good Time, Call by ScarlettStorm (E, 170k, WangXian, Modern AU, Getting Together, Pining, Porn, like in the writing and also as a plot point, onlyfans au, repressed LWJ, sex worker WWX, Minor Angst, major shenanigans, Background ChengQing, background NieLan, background XuanLi, Nonbinary NHS)

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12. Hello! I have lost a fic and would love help finding it again - it was a long form modern au where Wangji was kidnapped as a child and trained as a fighter for the Wens. He was kept in a cage where all he had was a picture book and his stuffed rabbit and he had a collar they put him in that he was terrified to remove cause they trained him to be super violent without it. Wei Ying played piano or guitar and it made Wangji come to him for help. Help me wangxianficrecs mods, you’re my only hope! @the-vaguely-shifting-void

FOUND? Across the street to another life by danegen (M, 99k, WangXian, Modern AU, unleashed au Family Fluff, Set in America, Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Addiction, Crime, Amnesia, Ableist, Language, another fridged mother, POV Alternating, past wwx/ofc, past wwx/omc, Medium parent YZY, A-Yuan is wwx’s biological son, Musicians, Happy Ending)

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13. Hi! I'm looking for a wangxian fic but I don't remember it too well. Basically I remember that Cangse Sanren was still alive and she and Wei Wuxian were rogue cultivators. And Lan Wangji meets Wei Wuxian for the first during a night hunt I think. I'm pretty sure Wei Wuxian is bathing and then later everyone initially mistakes Wei Wuxian for a girl because he's used to wearing female clothes because of the way his mom raised him.

Thanks for helping!!

FOUND? 🧡 Resplendence by FrozenMarVel ( E, 187k, WIP, WangXian, CS Lives, Rouge cultivator WWX, Crossdressing, Canon Divergence, Fix-It of sorts, Fluff, Explicit smut)

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14. Hello! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian are sent back in time. They begin to change things for the better but as time passes lwjs core begins to weaken until he almost dies. The only other thing I really remember is that lwj was upset/uncomfortable around lxc and didn't really trust him. Thank you and hope you can help me find it!

Hi! Back again because I remembered a few more details. It was an established relationship and lwj feels his core weakening but he doesn't say anything about it because he wants wwx to be happy, and they're in lotus pier when he collapses on the brink of death. They summon lxc to give him spiritual energy but lwj isn't happy to see him and doesn't want to be left alone with him because he hasn't forgiven the past lxc for not believing him and helping wwx. I've been desperately trying to find this fic for like a month and a half now,, I'm beginning to think maybe it's been deleted but I really hope not. Sorry for sending another ask about it but I thought perhaps the new details might help if someone else has read it? Thank you for all you do!

Question, was it both traveling in time or just LWJ? Because I have a faint memory of a fic with just LWJ time traveling and sacrificing his core to change things. I think it had more to do with choices rather than time with the weakening effect but I'm not sure

FOUND! Sacrifices Made with Blood by nocturnal_writes (M, 80k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Trauma, Eventual Healing, Trust Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Character Death, he get's better though, Canon-Typical Violence, Temporary Character Death, Fix-It of Sorts, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Time Shenanigans, Idiots in Love, nielan (implied), Angst with a Happy Ending, Temporary Mute Character, sick lwj, fusion of canon, Heavy Angst)

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15. Hi, I really need help on that one fic in which WWX time travels temporarily to his Yiling Laozu self, back in the archery contest with the Jins, older WWX seduces LWJ and then they have sex in the forest, which was supposed to be the mystery kiss (WWX with his canon CNC kink and roping young LWJ with it) Younger WWX was aware and he was also there inside his body, but can feel everything. Later, older WWX leaves and gives advice that “If you want him to go harder, beg for him to have mercy on you” and “if you really want him to stop, go still”

Younger WWX pleaded for mercy (and he wanted it harder) and later get caught by Madam Jin, Jiang Yanli, and Jin Zixuan. His reputation was down the drain but at least he got the love of his life.

Like, he went from rapist to a smitten lover for WY.

Please please please, I knew I saved it but I can't find it anymore on my bookmarks.

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16. Hi so this is what I remember I think it's an alternate universe canon divergence wwx did not get adopted by Jiang and he's a prostitute he was given as a present to lwj but the person who gave it to lwj was kind of like mocking him and the person who was giving wwx to lwj was the horrible Jin cousin I can never remember his name because I can't be bothered because he's really irrelevant and it was a podfic as well I think it was a cold read or maybe not oh and wwx is not a cultivator and from what I remember there was only one chapter because the original work is still ongoing @constancebloodstone

FOUND? Gifted by Deastar (E, 7k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Courtesan WWX, Sex Work, but not between the main characters, as in canon the real villain is sex work stigm, Supportive LQR, 🔒 [Podfic of] Gifted by AuntieIroh)

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17. I am going crazy trying to find a fic based off of a screenshot I have. It's one where Lwj is an author and hgj and yll are the characters in his book. The scene is wwx screaming that the characters don't end up together but they do in the last line of the book. @abijo2024-blog

Hey, thank you for looking for the fic I messaged about, sadly not the right fic but it's so close. I wonder if the fic was taken down that has the quote from the in fic novel "come back with me. Come home. Home. I thought you'd never ask" I have a screenshot of the fic scene where wwx is yelling at Lwj and Lwj shows him the last page with that quote.

NOT FOUND! when we’re full of stories to be told by fakeplasticlily (M, 45k, WangXian, Modern AU, journalist wwx, Writer LWJ, Kid Fic, Fluff and Angst, Childhood Friends, Pining, Mutual Pining, Mild Smut)

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18. Hello, thank you for your hard work! Could you please help with finding a fic that's about soulmates, where if I'm not mistaken you only know who they are when they die, and no one alse can see the soulmate's ghost. What I remember most clearly was that apart from WangXian, LXC and NMJ were also soulmates and LXC banished JGY from Cloud Recess because upon NMJ's death he learned of JGY's treachery. WWX helped calm NMJ who was full of resentment. Thank you so much!

FOUND? The Cruelty of Fate by Procrastination_Sensation (T, 9k, WangXian, Major Character Death, Canonical Character Death, Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor LXC/NMJ)

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19. Hi! I've been looking for a fic where I remember wei ying living with his parents in a nomad community(?), I don't remember why but qinghen-jun kidnaps him to give as a gift to lan zhan, I think it was his birthday(?) and therefore lives in the harem, that's what I clearly remember, in one chapter lan zhan gifts(?) or allows wei ying to go riding with him and that's all I know, it was the royalty type

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20. hello I’m looking for a fic read a while ago, I don’t remember much aside from it being an omegaverse, lan wangji an alpha and Wei Wuxi an an omega. It was set during their time in cloud recesses and I think Wei wuxian presented, and lan wangji went feral or his instincts made his go crazy and hover over him to protect him. Sorry it’s not much but it’s all I remember. @djalexdask

FOUND? Yiling Laozu Reincarnated: The Alpha's Soulmate by Luna_Klebsiella (Not Rated, 39k, WIP, WangXian, Reincarnation, Time Travel Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha LXC, Alpha JC, Omega JYL, A/B/O Dynamics, Omega Verse, No Golden Core Transfer, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Smut, Anal Sex, Mpreg)

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[lxvebun]

I'll wait forever if I have to

synopsis:you're worried Satoru's teasing has gone a bit too far. There's nothing wrong with saving your first kiss for someone special, right?

content: Suguru Geto x gender neutral reader. Fluff! Comes off a lil angsty in the beginning but its fluffy and sickeningly sweet. Around 1k words. Written with hidden inventory arc in mind so you'd be in the same grade together, but read it however you want♡.We are all a little lovesick for Suguru and he's a lil lovesick for you♡ eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡ enjoy!!

Based on Satoru's version of the fic♡

"Does it bother you that Satoru teases you so much?" The question breaks the comfortable silence you had as he walked you home. Sky fading from pink and orange cotton candy clouds to a clear and deep navy gradient canvas clustered with stars and moonlight.

Suguru is Gojo's bestfriend. You're sure he's used to his antics. Still, Satoru can take it a little far sometimes. Being oblivious to or ignoring the line completely. Crossing over it with a skip in his step and a smirk on his face.

"There's nothing wrong with waiting for the right person, you know." You reassure. Perhaps a little to yourself too. You'd wait forever for him, not that he knows.

(You kinda wish he did.)

You keep your voice soft, and soothing even with the unintentional undertone of worry. But Soothing enough to dulcify if Satoru's teasing did leave some cracks in his heart.

He lets out a low amused hum in agreement. Smooth as warm honey. Its drum startling the butterflies between your ribs awake. Not that he has to do much anyway to awaken them. It seems like they are always fluttering around when he's near. A bit smothering at times. Making your head fog over with images of liquid golden eyes and sickeningly sweet smiles.

You reach the traffic light before he speaks again. Filling the silence of waiting until the red light turns green.

"You don't have to worry about that, y/n. It's not hurting my feelings. I'm more than content to wait for my person" he answers sincerely. Not an ounce of impatience dripped from his voice. He means every word.

My person. his words weigh a little heavy on your heart. My person. Does that mean he already has his eyes set on someone? You're pretty sure a few of the butterflies have lost it's wings. Wings Shriveled and shattered at the thought. Broken bodies wriggling uncomfortably in your gut. Anxious and mourning as you think over who it could be. Would it be different if you'd just confessed already? Did you miss your chance or was there never any to begin with?

(The thought of him making someone else's heart race the way he does yours makes you a little sick)

You don't look at him. He's always been good at reading you, so in tune with your well being. You're an open book to him and usually, you're more than happy to let his fingers glide over the pages. Break you open to study you up close. Hoping that one of the words, one of the chapters in there is enough to lure him in, like a sirens song. Enough to steal his heart ...damn, how dare he fall for someone else.

"Sounds like you already have someone in mind, then". It comes out forced as you swallow down what you really want to say. Unable to decide between cursing him out or confessing to him on the spot.

You keep your gaze at the light ahead as if the force of it can will it into turning from this horrible shade of red to green, so this conversation can be over. So you can continue to walk in silence, so he can drop you off at the front door, wait until he hears the lock click from inside as he always does and you can dive into the comfort of your bed, dream of what could have been and try your best to move on

(You don't think you can if you're honest)

But again, you're an open book to him. He almost looks proud as he glances you over. Standing up a little straighter, failing to suppress a smile. A horribly beautiful smile that does not at all fit the turmoil inside your head. As if you're reaction solidified something in him.

God, how long does it take for a light to switch?

Your gaze doesn't falter as he steps closer to you. His warmth, his cologne enveloping your senses, wrapping around you like a spiderweb. Fitting as you feel like your heart is going to be torn out at any moment. Waiting for the words that will fracture your hopes. you think of just booking it through the red right at this point and leave him to choke on his rejection.

"Will you look at me, please"

He's replicating the soothing tone you used on him. Only he's so much better at it. Smooth like warm butter and sweet as syrup. How could you possibly deny him when he sounds this heavenly.

He's a patient man, he is. But he doesn't want to hurt you. Doesn't want you to shatter your own heart even more by thinking he could ever love someone the way that he loves you. As if he could ever want anyone else when it's always going to be you that captured his heart.

His fingers slide under your jaw, grip delicate as can be as he turns your head to meet his eyes. You're a little embarrassed at the lack of resistance on your part.

His face is kind. And despite your hesitance, his eyes are easy to hold. Feeling like sunsets on a warm summer evening.

"I'm just waiting for you to be ready too. However long it takes."

A timer goes off. The light has finally turned green. you both stay unmoving.

You feel like you've been staring into his eyes for hours when really it's only been a few seconds of silence after his words. Then you half-heartedly push him off. A laugh bubbles up your throat, relief evident in the melodic tone.

"you're awful, you know that?" not a sliver of actual malice in your words. He knows that too. continuing to stare at you fondly, eyes soft and a little love-sick. Smiling brightly at your words as if you complimented him.

"And you're beautiful"  the timer of the traffic light is sounding quicker now, similar to the beating of your heart. Indicating that it will soon turn red again.

You have a moment of bravery. confidence, as you intertwine your fingers with his and pull him across the street before the light turns red. His grip is nice and firm, tracing heart shapes on the back of your hand with his thumb. Doodling silent I love you's into your skin.

you continue to walk to your home together. Hands now interlaced. Hearts intertwined. Crisp evening air kissing your skin and calming the heat blooming in your body.

"I don't want to have my first kiss at a traffic light. You deserve something more romantic than that too," you begin. swaying your hands back and forth. Focusing on the street infront of you. You see your front door coming into view.

"But if you feel the urge to kiss me as you drop me off at my doorstep," you see him begin to grin in the corner of your eye. It tugs at the corners of your lips too

"I'll let you"

thank you for reading, angels!! I'm havinf such Suguru brainrot atm😩🩷 he's so cute.

Also I thought his eyes were brownish/ gold because I always just imagine him with that but they are purple....🔪 YOU🫵 ARE GOING TO IGNORE THAT FOR NOW AND IMAGINE THEY ARE GOLD AS WELL. Thank you🩷

[klttn]

since you’re asking for rq’s could you do lute brat taming reader? make it rough as you want! i just know she’s the absolute meanest dom<333

-🩰

first lute fic yay yay yay nd rough and mean? just perfect, we all know lute would be so mean n hurt us so good <3 hope i do it justice

— 𝜗𝜚 lute x female reader nsfw. hard dom!lute. slapping. spanking. lil bit of choking. mocking. humiliation. praise. dumbification. lute is just so mean. knife play.

“stand down,” adam ordered, your blade mere inches from lutes throat as you sparred on the mats in training. but that wasn’t going to happen. not when you were feeling this bratty. this desperate for her to just fight back.

“if she wants me to stand down she can yield herself,” you spat back into lutes face, not taking your gaze off of her.

lutes head lolled to the side as her attention drifted to adam’s, no fear or panic in her voice, “i’ve got this sir, let her come at me,” just complete composure and cockiness, “i can handle her.” an arrogant smirk plastered on her face like you weren’t straddling her hips, pinning her wrists and had angelic steel pressed to her throat.

scoffing, adam bent down eye level to you both, “if you two fuck on this mat, you better shout me over to watch,” he whispered before storming off to check on the other sparring angels.

you rolled your eyes, taking your time to tighten your grip in attempt to have lute squirming beneath you. but it was no use. lute looked like she was.. enjoying this. “i have a dagger pressed to your throat, why’re you smiling?” frustration evident in the way you spoke.

“youre exactly where i want you, pretty girl.”

you dropped the hand with the steel, tilting your head back in a feigned laugh, the same hand running trough your hair, “and what the fuck is that supposed to mean? for once im on top, im winning, im in control!”

“awh how you cute? you really think you have me here don’t you?”

“i do!”

before you knew it you felt lutes legs shift, her arms overpowing yours with an ease that had your head spinning. your limbs moving and pliant to lutes harsh movements, the blade being discarded along the way. fighting but failing until she had you in the exact same position you had her in apart from she had your thighs spread, sat on them. immobilising you with your hands above your head with one of her hands and her other wrapped around your throat where your blade should’ve been.

“so in control, baby, look at you, so big and strong underneath me like this,” she was teasing, mocking you.

a click of your tongue and a thrash of your body had lute cooing. she loved you helpless. “such a bitch,” you muttered, taking your time to glare at her. that was a big mistake.

“oh? im a bitch, am i baby?” she had you moving again, plying your malleable soft body with such simplicity. forcing you into such an embarrassing position. face pressed into the harshness of the mat, ass up and pushing into her, her hand laced in your hair and her body enveloping your own with a soft grind into your ass. a broken whimper left your lips, all dignity fleeting as she held you there. “at least im not a pathetic little girl who looses all her thoughts the minute she’s manhandled into the pliant mess she always should be.”

“please-“

“begging now, are we?” lute keened, pushing further into you, arcing your back impossibly higher. “im going to let you go in a second and when i do i expect your cute little ass running to get on your knees for me in our room, you got that? i want you in nothing, you don’t deserve the privilege of clothes. i want you all on display for me. you’re going to regret thinking you can be a brat to me.” and after her hand slipped from your tendrils of hair, her presence leaving you whining, you did exactly that.

nervous breathes running ragged, you slipped your clothes off in the corner of the room, excitement lacing with the nerves. you wanted this, you needed this but it didn’t mean you wasn’t scared of the punishment coming your way.

you could feel the heat building between your thighs just from sparring, just from her. knees thudding softly with the cool floor as you collided in a kneel, your palms resting on the top of your thighs, gaze adrift to the same place. just how lute liked you. submissive.

a click of lock sounded seconds later, quiet footsteps trailing into the room signalling lutes arrival. you hear shifting and rustling of her clothes coming off along with the metal clank of her putting something on a bedside table. her soft breathes becoming louder as she kneels beside you. “have we finally decided to drop the bratty attitude and behave?” her finger trailing under your chin to force your gaze to hers. “i don’t know what’s gotten into you today but im going to slap it out of you, pretty girl.”

you couldn’t help it, a moan fell from your plush lips, desperate and broken at the thought of getting exactly what you wanted. lute just had to put her hands on you now, letting them run across your bare tits. “awh baby, you really need that don’t you, to be slapped?” you nodded, leaning into her touch. “yeah baby?” a soft slap landing on your boob where she was groping, earning her a cute whine from you. “im gonna give you two choices, i can slap that needy pussy of yours or-“ she paused, letting her hand float to your face, her thumb caressing your puffy lips, “that pretty little face of yours? hmm?”

“please lute-“

“please what, baby? which one do you want?” her now standing up, towering over you, the soft caress of her thumb never faltering. “tell mommy.”

“both- please, i need both!” lutes hand leaving your face to land a slap there.

“greedy girl, so eager to be hurt, such a pathetic little girl for mommy.”

“i just-“

“you just what, baby?” another slap landing across your cheek, followed by your desperate cries. “what’s a matter, no more big girl words for me?” another slap. lute bent over, face inches from yours leaving you to flinch a little with fear, a fear you loved. “on the bed, pretty thing, legs spread, now.” two more slaps.

you up and scrambled as fast as you could, crawling so cutely to do as she says, pussy already so puffy and soaked without her so much as touching you, just her slaps. “good girl, that’s more like it.” lutes presence following you, stroking your hair as you laid all pathetic for her. “now close your eyes, mommy has a surprise.”

your lids fluttered shut, a soft tremble in your legs in anticipation. the gentle caress of lutes fingers in your hair easing you further into your pillows. “feels good,” you whispered, nuzzling further into her hand.

“yeah?” you heard that same clank of mental before you felt it, the sharp edge of a blade - your blade - pressed inches from your throat. just like you had done to her. “what about now baby? does this feel good?” her smirk was condescending and completely sadistic as she looked down at you. so fucking hot.

your pupils dilated with shock, eyes widening with such innocence and terror it had lute’s pussy drenched too. “look at you, so cute when you’re scared!” she cooed, “not so big and brave now, are you, little girl?” she was loving this way too much. “tell you what baby, if you stay still whilst mommy spanks your clit, you can cum.” she paused, smirk forming on her soft lips, “but it has to be all over the handle of this knife, yeah?”

your lips wobbled with fear, a broken moan slipping past you at the thought followed by a soft nod of your head. you had no idea what lute would do but you didn’t think it’d be this. you were so happy it was though.

a couple of spanks in and you were trying not to squirm, hips trying to chase the sting of pain you loved so much. everytime lute honing the blade even closer to your throat to still you and get off on that glint of fear that filled your pretty eyes. “awh baby, you’re not very good at this are you? so dumb you just keep humping and squirming eventhough there’s a knife at your throat, you really are so pathetic, aren’t you?”

frantic nods of your head as lute moved the steel back to account for your eagerness, “just so pathetic, mommy please, i can’t help it.”

“that’s my girl,” slap. slap. slap. “looks like you found your big girl words after all,” lute chuckled softly, bringing the hand that had just slapped you back to trace your cheekbones, luring you into that false sense of safety in her palms. “enough words to finally tell me what you want, what you’re begging for?”

she knew exactly what you wanted, she just wanted to hear you say it. blush crept up your cheeks as you bucked your hips missing the soft pain of her slaps on your cunt, gaze drifting toward the blade in lutes grasp. “want-“ a soft whine, “want you to fuck me nd hold the knife to my throat like this,” you bit your lip, trembling some more for the millionth time that day, “please.”

a huff of breath showed lutes surprise, “shit baby, i knew you liked it but i didn’t think you’d like it that much, fuck but when you ask so cutely how am i supposed to deny that?” a giggle leaving your throat. you loved making lute proud with how gross your could be. “on your hands and knees baby, i think mommy’s going to use your favourite strap.” she placed a soft kiss on your temple before walking off.

you couldn’t wait.

[somewhere-in-wales]

What if, in this moment, Aziraphale & Crowley found themselves unexpectedly transported to our world?

And then met these two idiots?

And they all had to work together to get Aziraphale & Crowley back?

I wrote a fic about it (When Worlds Collide). Here are some nice things people wrote underneath its chapters:

"I can't tell you how much I'm in love with this fic. Like I want to marry it, right now! The amounts of times I literally shrieked with laughter reading this. I had to stop to wipe my eyes, I am dying"

"In love w this actually. the SHENANIGANS!!!! this was a joy to read"

"this fic is eating me alive. an immediate cult classic. if i had your permission and any ability to execute this at all, i would bind this fic in leather and carry it with me all my days like a spiritual nomad with their dearest tome. You Are Taking Me There."

"JFJDJDJDJFJFKDUSHCMCKCD I NEED TO GO TO BED BUT THIS FIC IS SO GOOD"

"Oh, Chapter 4 is my favorite so far. And that's saying a lot, because every time I read a new one I think 'there's no way this can be topped...it's too good, too funny, too fresh a take on these characters"

You can find it on AO3 here When World's Collide, there's an exert below, and if you're feeling generous enough to do a little signal boost re-blog, I will love you forever.

"Terribly sorry, but I wonder if I might help settle this business about whether we are who we say we are?"

Michael and David exchange glances.

"I doubt it" says Michael, reaching around the door frame for his water bottle whilst stepping out of the bathroom to take a swig. Aziraphale sweeps his hand in an arc as Michael puts the bottle to his lips, glugging. He immediately coughs and spits red wine forcefully across the room.

“Holy shit!” Exclaims David, jumping backwards to avoid being splashed.

"What the Hell was that for?" Michael splutters angrily, wiping his mouth, eyes moving between Aziraphale and Crowley

"Did you swap that out when I was filming?" he asks, irritably, looking around at the mess. "You've completely ruined the costume."

"I do hate to see it ruined," Aziraphale worries, glancing at Crowley who mock pouts. "No harm done to the furnishings at least" he says, as the stains miraculously disappear. He turns to Crowley again, appealing.

"Yes, fine" responds the Demon, getting up dramatically. He eyes Michael, who's still agitated, and feels like someone is looking into his soul. The gaze of an actual Demon, not just his acting partner, is enough to stifle any remaining irritation. With his eyes fixed on Michael, Crowley lifts his hand to click his fingers, and removes the stains from the actor's costume completely. Michael looks wordlessly at where the stain was, and raises his gaze appealingly to David.

"It's not... they can't... this is ...." he tails off, walking over to the table and sitting down.

Crowley sweeps his eyes over David's features "he's Aziraphale?" he asks, a depth of skepticism to his tone, "this guy?"

"Yes", says David "he's lovely really" Aziraphale side-eyes David before flitting his gaze to Crowley.

"And you're me?" Crowley asks slowly, with equal depth.

"Y...yes" says David with rather less confidence. Even underneath the dark glasses, he can tell the Demon is searching his eyes. "I might just take the contacts out" he says, to no one in particular, and ducks back into the bathroom.

"They'll need our costumes back. Where are you two going to sleep tonight?" Michael asks.

"Oh I don't sleep" Aziraphale shakes his head as though he's been offered an unappealing appetiser.

"I do"

"We'll get you a hotel room" says Michael. Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances and Michael resists the urge to settle their discomfort by saying they'll get two. This situation is ridiculous, but he'll be damned if he isn't going to have a little fun with it.

"Thank you" Aziraphale offers, politely.

The door to the bathroom opens and David comes out, eyes back to normal. Crowley looks him over, flicking his eyes to Aziraphale, gauging the Angel's reaction. Aziraphale stares at David's face, breathing slowly, mind retracing memories long gone, but never forgotten.

"We better go then" Crowley huffs.

"Not dressed like that" David gestures to Aziraphale, who looks down at his clothes fondly, smoothing down his jacket.

"I have standards, you know?" He says.

"He's not wrong" Crowley agrees.

Michael, who had been watching Aziraphale's reactions thoughtfully, taking mental notes, speaks up "if we go in pairs and break up leaving, it's possible that no one will notice two David and Michael's leaving."

David looks uncertain.

"Unless you have a better idea?" Michael asks, "One, single, better idea?" Crowley and Aziraphale both flick their heads to look at Michael in recognition.

"No, let's do that" David relents. "I'm going to change." He steps back into the bathroom.

"Me too" says Michael, heading for the door "I'll be back in 5 minutes."

A few minutes later, Michael returns in the outfit he arrived in that day, to the general disdain of Aziraphale.

"Do you still think we should come to an arrangement?" Asks Crowley, smiling at this turn of events.

"I can't wear that" Aziraphale gestures to Michael's clothes, completely failing to hide his disgust at the suggestion he should wear such an outfit.

"What's wrong with this?" Michael asks. He's wearing jeans and a shirt, nothing worthy of such disdain. His question is ignored.

"You have to, Angel" Crowley teases, just as the bathroom door opens and David enters in a bright purple jumper. Crowley looks at him, then back at Aziraphale, a panicked expression briefly flicks across his features. The Angel raises his eyebrows and puts his hands on his hips in a look that communicates 'your move'.

"Oh Hell no, that's not happening" the Demon states. Clicking his fingers, he changes Michael and Aziraphale into sharp suits, David and himself into slightly-less-tight-than-usual black jeans and a slim black shirt. "Take it or leave it" he says, glancing briefly at Aziraphale, who's eyes soften, and lips form a slight smile in thanks whilst he smooths down the well-fitting suit.

"Yes, much better" The Angel sighs.

"For you, maybe, I'd never turn up to work in this" Michael fiddles uncomfortably with the collar.

"You should dear, you look ...nice" Aziraphale says, moving over to Michael to smooth his collar. Michael frowns at the Angel, noting the back-handed compliment.

"The hotel's not far," says David. "I'll call for a car. I'll take Aziraphale." Aziraphale and Crowley exchange glances in silent resignation. "We should wait at least 10 minutes before you call for yours" he raises his eyebrows, a quick glance at Crowley. He reckons he has the easier job.

"So, I'll be pretending to be..." Aziraphale gestures to Michael.

"Michael" Michael looks unconvinced by this.

"Yes, I know, I just wondered if there's anything I should know about you?"

"Probably best if you just don't talk" Michael glances between Aziraphale and Crowley. But Aziraphale looks very uncomfortable at this suggestion.

"He's an actor" David tries to offer something that will help.

"Yes" Aziraphale responds in a tone that shows his patience is wearing thin.

"He lives in Wales" David tries again.

"Oh," Aziraphale smiles, a look of relief forming on his features "Oh lovely, I do love the Welsh Coast" he beams, looking at each of the other trailer occupants. "Yes, yes I think I can handle this" he nods, confidently, adjusting his cuffs.

David smiles back, broadly.

Michael and Crowley are less confident, their eyes meet with a knowing expression of concern.

Continued here

[shadowfalllen]

Masterlist of my writing

Hi there! I'm Moonwytch on AO3, and I also write under the pseudonym Shadowfallen. I've been obsessed with BG3 ever since it came out, and I still play it often. I fell in love with Shadowheart and her character arc in ways I've never experienced before, and I've written about her more than anyone or anything else. At the moment, all of my writing revolves around her. I mostly write smut/romance with f/f pairings, and sometimes, I explore more plot-heavy themes.

Here is a list of all of my works, with a short description of what they're about:

~Selûnite Shadowheart fics~

Atop Piles of Gold

Your peaceful life in a countryside cottage gets spiced up one night when Shadowheart decides to introduce a little roleplay into your sex life.

Under the Old Apple Tree (co-written with RandomIntrovert)

It's springtime, and Tav and Shadowheart have been toiling away in the garden, but now it's time to take a break under the old apple tree. Things heat up fast.

Great Library Escapade

Sorcerer Tav can't keep their (mage) hands off Shadowheart as they visit the House of the Moon in Waterdeep.

Seed of Light

You and Shadowheart have been trying to have a baby in the cottage; this time, you have Selûne's blessings on your side. Take me like you hate me

Selûnite Tav indulges in the spider meat, becoming mega horny and distracting Shadowheart who takes matters into her own hands before Tav ruins her mission in the Gauntlet of Shar.

Before The Last Brew - on going

A mysterious new barista named Shadowheart arrives in town, turning the mundane everyday life of aspiring author Clara Whitfield upside down. (Modern Coffee Shop AU). Where the Heart Stays [oneshot, 18k + words]

After moving back to her home town, Eliza is encouraged by her adoptive mother, Jaheira, to try something new, so she signs up for riding lessons at Hallowleaf Ranch. There, she gets reunited with her childhood friend, Jenevelle "Jen" Hallowleaf, and soon, something more than friendship begins to blossom between them.

~Dark Justiciar Shadowheart fics~

The Old Yearning

Mother Superior Shadowheart has invited you to share a glass of wine in the cloister, but you have no idea that her feelings for you have taken a very dark and obsessive turn…

Catch Me If You Can (multichapter)

Tav and Dark Justiciar Shadowheart's favorite pastime is playing dangerous games of cat and mouse.

Seed of Darkness (co-written with RandomIntrovert)

Dark Justiciar Shadowheart comes to visit you in the dungeon, and she might have something that will make the pregnancy she has longed for a reality…

The Goddess of Silver and Shadow

The newborn goddess Shadowheart descends upon Baldur's Gate and takes it over. You are chosen as her entertainment for the evening.

In Her Dark Embrace

As the moonless night arrives, you and the rest of the Sharrans, led by Mother Superior Shadowheart, ready yourselves for a Nightfall ritual and the act of wickedness it requires.

To Defy The Gods - on going

Mother Superior Shadowheart has emptied herself of falsehoods and embraced the inevitability of loss. Almost. She can’t let go of Tav, clinging to the last flicker of light within her. But everything is fleeting in the life of a Sharran, and Shar's embrace grows ever tighter. How could she ever even dream of defying Lady Shar? And if she did, how could there be anything after?

If there’s one fic of mine I would recommend above everything else, it would be this epic redemption arc of Dark Justiciar Shadowheart. Click here to see what extra I've shared about it on tumblr.

Artwork of Shadowheart from To Defy The Gods by @cylinderarts

[vodika-vibes]

Ok so what about Jesse x a Zeltron!reader who works on the 501st base where they maybe have a casual kind of relationship, which is typical for the Zeltron species (basically a bunch of attractive high-energy and high-libido pink people who don't like commitment), and then Reader realizes they're actually developing *feelings.* For this *one* guy (perish the thought).

So, Reader decides they need to quit this before they're in too deep with their emotions, but it turns out Jesse feels the same?

Zeltrons are my favorite Star Wars species and I wish someone would do something with them in canon but oh well at least there's fic and hcs.

I Won't Say I'm In Love

Summary: This thing between you and Jesse is fun. It’s fun, it’s comfortable, and you’re content with how it’s going. He can easily keep up with you in all things. It’s not a relationship. Relationships require commitment and you’re not about that life. And then, one day, you realize that maybe you are.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Jesse x Zeltron F! Reader

Word Count: 1973

Warnings: 18+, no smut but still an adult fic

A/N: I'm not sure this is exactly what you wanted, but I hope you like it anyway.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“What are you thinking about, beautiful?” Jesse asks as he plays with a strand of your hair. It had been curled, when the night started, but has since lost its curl due to rain and other activities.

You glance at him from where your head is resting on his bare chest, and then you release a theatrical groan and stretch across your bed. “Food, mostly.”

His dark eyes sweep down your bare body, and then focus back on your face, a wide grin crossing his features, “I suppose we did skip dinner.” He muses thoughtfully.

“And who’s fault is that?”

He arches a single brow, “Yours. I came here to pick you up so we can meet our friends at the club, and you jumped me.”

You sit up and hold out a single finger, intent on correcting him, and then you frown and bring your finger to your chin, “...I did do that, didn’t I?”

“It’s okay,” Jesse says as he sits up as well, a slightly smug smirk crossing his face, “I’m gorgeous, it’s understandable.”

An amused huff falls from your lips, and you push him. It doesn’t have any effect, Jesse is both bigger and stronger than you, but the intention gets across well enough.

“I’m stealing your shirt and ordering food,” You announce as you swing your legs off your bed and start searching for the top of his blacks that he was wearing when he arrived. 

It’s gotta be here somewhere, right? Maybe you took it off him in the living room?

You bend over to shift a pile of clothes to see if it ended up under that somehow, and Jesse releases an appreciative whistle. A laugh falls from you as you straighten and shoot him a look, “Really?”

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” His heated gaze drags down your body, and he shifts on the bed, leaning back against the headboard and kicking the sheet down slightly.

He’s already half-hard again.

Honestly, he’s such a man sometimes.

“Come here, babe. Let me show you.” He holds his hand out to you, and it’s tempting. It’s so tempting. He’s very good at sex, after all.

But then, just as you’re about to join him in bed, your stomach rumbles loudly. Jesse’s head falls back against the headboard as he bursts out laughing. He has a booming laugh, and his entire body shakes with his amusement.

And you find yourself staring at him as he laughs. 

You should be offended, right? He’s laughing at you.

Only—

Only, he looks so—

A tiny smile lifts your lips, and you can’t help but think I’d like to make him laugh like that forever.

“Ohh, what’s that look for?” Jesse is still grinning at you, but he’s no longer on the bed. In fact, he’s tugging his lounge pants on, and holding the top of his blacks in one of his hands.

“Look?” You catch the shirt as he tosses it at you, “What look?”

“You have a look.” He walks over to you and lightly catches your chin between two fingers, “It’s a cute look.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, sure.” Jesse leans in and kisses the tip of your nose, “Put some clothes on, gorgeous. We need to feed the demon in your stomach.”

You huff and tug the shirt over your head, “I want pizza,”

Jesse makes a face, “Are you sure you wouldn’t just rather order a tub of lard to eat?”

“Ew.” You follow him out of the bedroom and into the living room, “Pizza is more than lard.”

“It’s just as bad for you.” Jesse points out as he grabs your datapad and turns toward you.

“All of the best things in life are,” You counter as you duck under his arm to peer at the screen too.

“Name one,”

“Alcohol.”

“Babe, you don’t even like drinking.”

“I like it! Just not when I can taste it.”

“My point exactly,” Jesse scrolls through one of the food delivery apps, “Oh, how about this place?”

You glance at the restaurant, and tilt your head, “Curry?”

“You like their bread,” He offers temptingly.

“I do like their bread.” You muse thoughtfully, “Alright, order that. As much as you like.”

“You sure?”

“I make plenty of money. I can afford to splurge on a meal for us, Jesse. Don’t worry about it.”

He presses a kiss against your temple, “You’re the best.”

“Yes, I know~” You duck back under his arm to head into the kitchen to start some caf. Do you need it? No, not really. But you want it. “Do you want caf, Jesse?”

“Always,” He calls back to you, “Hey, d’ya mind if I order a dessert?”

“Buy whatever you want, Jesse. I don’t mind.”

You start the machine and then turn to lean against the counter, your gaze lingering on Jesse as he scrolls through the menu across the room. He’s not paying attention to you right now, which means you can take the time to actually admire him.

Jesse’s…handsome.

Handsome and charming. He’s not the funniest, his puns tend to make you groan, cover your eyes, and beg him to stop. He’s easy to talk to, you don’t think he has a judgemental bone in his body. He’s covered in tattoos, the republic cog on his face is his most obvious tattoo, but it’s not his only tattoo.

He’s affectionate. When the both of you are out together, his arm is either around your waist, or around your shoulder, or he’s playing with your hair or your fingers—

The realization comes to you slowly, like a sun rising over the horizon.

You love him.

The idea is laughable, really. 

You’re a Zeltron. Your people don’t do commitment as a rule.

Having a monogamous fuck-buddy is one thing. But a life-partner?

You gaze at Jesse for a moment longer. You should end this.

He’s a good man, Jesse. He deserves better than someone like you. You would be the first one to admit that you’re shallow and petty. If you were a puddle, Jesse could stand in you without even getting the soles of his boots wet.

You’re a terrible person. Quick to dismiss other people’s feelings (ugh) as unimportant. Even quicker to dismiss people who question the decisions you’ve made.

He deserves better than you.

Then Jesse turns to you and flashes a bright grin, and you realize that you can’t let him go. 

Turns out you’re actually a terrible person.

You wonder what you must look like to him right now. Standing here in the kitchen, your hair a mess, wearing his shirt and nothing else.

You wonder what he thinks of you in general. Your relationship was meant to be purely physical with the added bonus of being actual friends. Does he think you’re just some…some slut? He wouldn’t be the first person who categorized you like that and wouldn’t be the last.

But the idea of him thinking of you like that makes your chest ache.

Jesse’s in front of you before you realize it, his smile has vanished replaced with a look of concern as he stands over you. “Babe? Everything alright?” He asks, as he lightly cradles your face in his hands.

No. Nothing is ever going to be alright ever again. Why did I have to catch feelings?

“Do you think I’m a slut?” You ask instead.

Jesse blinks at you, twice. Seemingly astounded by your question. And then you watch, surprised, as something dangerous slides across his face, “Did someone call you that?”

“Yeah, almost daily.” The insult doesn’t bother you, not anymore. But you want to know what he thinks about you.

His expression becomes even more forbidding, “Names. Please. And locations. I just wanna talk to them.”

You blink at him, and then a startled laugh falls from you, “Jesse, babe. I’m a Zeltron, I’ve not been offended by being called a slut since I was a teenager.” You press your hands over his, “I want to know if you personally think I’m a slut.”

He looks pained for a moment, “People have been calling you that since you were a teenager?”

“Jesse.”

“Of course I don’t think you’re a slut. I’ve never thought that.” He tilts your head back slightly, “I think—”

He trails off, and your hands move to his wrists, “You think?”

“You’re amazing.”

“Of course I am.”

He scans your face for a moment, “Where did all of this come from? You’ve never worried about this before.”

You open your mouth to say something and then hesitate.

“Babe? Come on, you can tell me.”

“I just realized that I’m a horrible person, that’s all.”

“You’re not, though!” Jesse’s hands fall to your shoulders, “Listen to me. You have to know that there are a lot of people on Coruscant who don’t even see us as people. And you…you never questioned it. Do you have any idea how amazing that is?”

“That’s, quite literally, the bar on the ground, Jesse.”

He shakes his head, “You’d be amazed at how many people are willing to start digging. You know, I’m not even convinced that General Skywalker sees us as people.”

That’s…a terrifying thought. Your hands tighten around his wrists, and Jesse smiles at you soothingly before he leans in and kisses you gently.

“I have a confession to make, beautiful.”

You tilt your head to the side, “A confession?”

He nods, one of his hands moving to cradle your neck, “I’m afraid I’m in love with you.”

Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“And I know that we agreed to keep this,” He gestures to the pair of you, “wholly physical and platonic, but…fuck, beautiful, I can’t do it.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Jesse presses a finger over your lips, there’s something like anxiety on his face.

“You don’t have to say anything. I know that you don’t do complicated and that relationships were never on the table for you,” He says quickly, “I also know that I’m not your only guy, so—”

Wait. What?

“Says who?” You blurt.

“What?”

“What what? Who says that I’m sleeping with other people? Because I’m not.”

Jesse stares at you, “But, when I’m deployed—”

“Sex toys exist for a reason, Jesse.” You counter defensively, “And…well…the only people who might compare to you are your brothers and that just made me feel icky.”

Jesse has an odd look on his face.

“What?”

“I love you.”

“You said that already.”

His lips crash against yours, surprising you. And, while you and Jesse have shared a lot of kisses, none of them have been quite like this before. He’s kissing you like he’s trying to possess you.

Jesse lifts you like you weigh nothing, and sets you on the counter before he slides between your legs, and he does this without breaking the kiss. “You love me,” He mumbles against your lips.

Your face burns with embarrassment, “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” He moves his lips to your neck and bites down, leaving an obvious mark on your pink skin, something he’s never done before. 

He moves his lips a little lower and bites down again, pulling a soft moan from you, “Jess—”

“Take this off,” He murmurs as he tugs on the shirt you're wearing, “I need you.”

“But, food.”

He flashes a sly grin, “We can take a break when it gets here.”

“You’re such a man sometimes,” You complain, but even so, you’re still pulling the shirt off.

“You’ve never complained before.” He kisses you again, his tongue flicking against your lower lip, “Fuck, I love you.”

This time, when he says it, you just giggle and lean into him. Maybe commitment won’t be so bad when Jesse is your other half.

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@heidnspeak

@wax-birds

@silly-starfish

@lonewolflupe

@maniacalbooper

[buddieisgoingcanon25]

So I think I have a theory (or just what I would like to see) of how 8b might play out 🤭

Tim mentioned Buck maybe getting into a short term relationship because of his abandonment issues but made it clear that it won’t last.

However, to actually break Buck’s cycle this is either going to have to mean that Buck or the other person finally click onto what Buck always does.

So my theory: maybe Eddie can’t sell the house before heading to Texas so he decides to just rent in El Paso and asks Buck to try and manage getting the house sold or rented out. Maybe Buck moves in claiming it’s ‘easier’ and always ignores the realtor and finds excuses for not being able to meet or set up viewings.

Then in true 911 fashion I think the person Bucks gets with will be tied to Maddie’s kidnapping.

Maybe Buck will have invited them over to Eddie’s and once realising they’re to blame, Buck has a moment of ‘jumping into things hurts me and this time it’s hurt my family so it has to stop’ (I also think since the person will only be getting close to Buck strategically that we may get hints of this person getting Buck to realise his obsession with his best friend is pretty romantic)

I also have a theory that they’ll go down the route of ‘I don’t need a relationship as long as I have you and Chris’ with Eddie and that his sexuality arc will actually be about in choosing joy he realises that he wants what he currently has but romantically.

I think we might get a Buck and Eddie who are swearing off relationships for now but become more and more codependent until one or both of them have their ‘oh’ moment.

All this to say, if anyone wants to write this as a fic instead please do and drop me the link too😅😍

Oh I like your theory anon. I’ll take anything at this point. Now we have 3 months to speculate.

[vonabel]

3, 4 and 8 with izuku, for the ask game 🫶🫶🫶

-🧋

3) i genuinely cannot think of something i hate about Deku. i think maybe how nice he is all the time, i wish we got a 'Deku crashes the fuck out' episode/arc. i know he went all funky during his vigilante moment, but even then, he was doing it to protect his peers so it was still him being selfless. i'd have liked to see him be selfish even once.

4) i'd put Deku in Legend of Zelda Breath of the Wild/Tears of the Kingdom. i've seen a lot of other people do this already (there is some absolutely fantastic fanart out there let me tell you), and i really see the vision. i don't want him to replace Link, though, i think he'd be some village boy from Hateno that Link really clicks with and they would go on adventures together. i think i kinda cross ship Link/Deku, so that could be why i like this so much LOL

8) i HATE when people characterize Deku as a sweet, pathetic, innocent, loser virgin boy. like yeah he is a loser boy, but please. he is the ultimate fan boy, he is NOT innocent. i know that sick fuck read some narsty hero fanfiction and probably even wrote his own. and also Deku is kind of an insane asshole, he is up there on Bakugo's level LMAO

example 1:

"i'd like to rip his legs off his body." are you kidding 😭

example 2:

Bakugo being his friend definitely shaped him in some ways, and his sassy ass mouth is one of those ways.

Deku is not innocent and also not very nice sometimes. and i quite enjoy that and try really hard to convey that in my fics.

character ask game

[take-it-on-the-run]

A Pearl

Fox Mulder x Dana Scully

No matter how desperately he hung onto her cross around his neck, praying to a God he didn’t believe in, she was still there—sleeping, so gently, despite the devices hooked on and through her.

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: ANGST, loss, not comfortless, but not exactly outwardly comforting, set in season 2's coma arc, implied depression, Mulder and Scully both need hugs, mentions of hospitals, comas and medical devices, brief mention of killing and death

Characters: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, Margaret Scully, Melissa Scully, Duane Barry (mentioned)

Read it on AO3!

Taglist: @somethingsomethingcranberries, @sst4r-ddu5t, @ghostlyaccurate, @butterclove

Want to join (or leave) the taglist? Click here!

A/N: Mitski Title! Thank you for checking this fic out, as it's my first MSR/TXF-related writing! This idea mainly came from a post talking about how Mulder not taking off Scully's necklace before he gave it back would've been feral, and I completely agree. Set in Scully's S2 coma/post-abduction arc, Mulder is just a sap who can't help but be in love with Scully. Unbeta'd, every mistake is mine, and I hope you enjoy!

MSR Masterlist | The X-Files Masterlist | Main Page Masterlist

Dana.

He liked that name.

It thundered against his mind constantly, pruning memories drenched in sadness.

It fit her well. He’d searched it out in a book of baby names and their meanings while sitting in a waiting room during one of their first cases.

Wise. Generous. Brave. A pearl.

Maybe, years and years down the line, he’d give his daughter the same name.

He wouldn’t have the heart to tell this hypothetical girl’s mother where the name came from. That, while he was at the FBI, he had a partner he would kill and die for. Because of his inability to let sleeping dogs lie, she was attacked in her home, kidnapped, and never woke up from the coma she was found in.

He could lie and say it was a family name.

But that wasn’t a lie.

She was family.

No matter how desperately he hung onto her cross around his neck, praying to a God he didn’t believe in, she was still there—sleeping, so gently, despite the devices hooked on and through her.

He could barely look at her without wanting to sob, the guilt and rage rushing to him all at once.

If he’d only picked up his phone.

Now, every time it rings, he jumps. He doesn’t mean to, and it gets him more looks than before, but he can’t help it. He cranked the ringer after he missed her call. He wasn’t going to miss anyone’s call ever again.

When he first saw Mrs. Scully and Melissa perched over her for the first time, he could barely get his feet to move. He was shocked he was allowed back into the hospital after the scene he caused when he first came.

All of the bitter sleepless nights he spent thinking of her had come to a rolling boil, sputtering out of the pot as he tugged his shoes on. Sleep-deprived, unshaven, and clutching her cross on his neck, he shot up the highway at Mach speeds, only to get carried out by two security guards as he screamed obscenities and threats at the hospital staff.

Remaining cemented to the ground, he watched her family mourn. Mrs. Scully was holding Dana’s hand, resting her head against her gently rising chest as she muttered prayers under her breath. Melissa’s eyes were closed, and her hands hovered above her sister’s body, moving slowly. Her family, however different in their beliefs, had come to her side, praying in the way each of them knew how.

If either noticed he was wearing her necklace, they didn’t mention it. He’d tried giving it back to Mrs. Scully earlier, but she told him to keep it for when he could give it back.

When he thinks of those weeks he spent searching for her, finding Duane Barry on the mountain, and nearly killing him on the spot, all he can feel is an empty hole where his emotions should be.

If there was justice in the world, Duane would’ve served his sentence with a bullet to the skull the moment they met. If there was justice, he wouldn’t have had to hear that the ventilation she was on wouldn’t likely support her much longer.

He was invited to stay and discuss the matter at hand, but he knew his heart would collapse in on itself if he even thought about it.

He drove home slowly, cruising through different side streets he’d never taken. His apartment was always within reach, but he could barely bring himself to turn into his parking spot. The longer he drove, the longer he could delay the inevitable.

His resignation letter sat askew on his desk, matching the rest of his living space that had been ransacked by the Cancer Man’s men. Skinner refused the letter and told him it was no use giving up on the bureau now.

Mulder didn’t tell him there was no use in the bureau without his partner. Even when Skinner reopened the X-files, he couldn’t get himself to go through them as he had when she was at his side.

Slinging himself on his couch, he could smell the days without showering or sleeping radiating off him, but he could barely get his suit jacket off, let alone drag himself to the shower.

Crushing his body against the worn leather, staring blankly at the disconnected television, he could almost close his eyes and pretend he was in a motel with her again. He tuned the sound of his radiator running to become the soft snoring she would always insist didn’t happen, the wind batting against the windows as her tossing against the lumpy motel beds they frequented, and the pounding of his heart as hers.

Barely a year as partners, and yet he would break, bend, and bleed just to hear her say his name one last time.

She’d only called him by his first name once, while they were on an off-the-books stakeout. He told her to call him Mulder, and that he even forced his parents to call him by their last name.

Every time he heard it, he was suddenly twelve years old, watching his sister scream out his name as he stood still and couldn’t do a thing to protect her like he promised he always would.

But when she said it, he was no longer trapped in his memories. He was just Fox.

If she said his name enough, maybe he wouldn’t hate it as much as he did.

His phone rang, sending his heart to flutter like a bird in a cage. He knew he should answer it, but his body was clinging to the couch harder than gravity was clinging to Earth.

“Mulder.” He answered flatly, stretching his body off the edge of his couch to hold the phone to his ear.

Electricity shot up his spine and down his legs, slinging up to his feet before Mrs. Scully could finish what she was saying. Life bubbled into him as he dropped the phone in its dock.

Mulder’s feet echoed in the sterile hospital hallway as he walked, his steps slow, almost mechanical, every inch of him unwilling to face what he knew was waiting for him behind that door. But he had no choice.

He didn’t want to see her like this again. He didn’t want to walk into that room where she was tethered to life by machines, her body so small and fragile, and the world outside buzzing with life while she remained suspended in an unnerving limbo. But she was there. And he had to be there too.

Her family had gathered around her. Her mother, her sister—the ones who had the right to be there first. But it was his presence that had been permitted, allowed to enter into that sacred space where the woman he had spent endless nights sleeping beside was now lying in a hospital bed.

He stepped through the door, and there she was.

Dana Scully. Her name felt so wrong, so small, in this sterile, whitewashed room. She looked almost ethereal in her hospital gown, pale, the skin of her face so sunken, and yet, there was something about her that still made his heart ache—still made him wonder how he ever got so lucky, or cursed, to be in her orbit. Her lips, usually full with that determined set, were now parted slightly as she lay motionless beneath the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping her tethered to this world. The familiar weight of her presence was missing, but the quiet strength still lingered there, just out of reach.

“Hello Fox,” Mrs. Scully said, not moving as her hand laced with her daughter’s.

“Not Fox—Mulder.” Her cracked lips quirked as she quipped at her mother. She gently turned to face him, raising her eyes to his.

In the second she corrected her mother, hearing her say his name was enough to make his throat tighten. She looked over her shoulder at her family, and without a word, they silently left the room.

She was alive and awake in front of him, and as drained as he was, he wanted to scream thanks to her God. Her hand reached out to him, and for the first time in the matter of Dana Scully, he hesitated.

She was here because of him.

“Scully…” he trailed, fighting the urge to let her first name slip out. He took her hand in his, so cold comparatively, and brought her knuckles to his lips. She didn’t do anything to stop him, and he felt her stare drop to her necklace hanging on his neck.

“You kept it,” she whispered, bordering on a question, as she touched it to his chest. He felt his face flush as her delicate fingers played with the pendant, watching her twist and turn it.

“Yeah,” he croaked, looping his hands behind his head to unclasp it, “your mom—Mrs. Scully—told me to keep it ‘till I could give it back to you.” He gathered it in his hands, offering to put it on her, “Here, let me.”

It looked better fit on her, dainty and gilded against her throat, proclaiming her differing beliefs in the mysteries of the world and the myth of creation. It was as if her faith in God had taken him to the ends of his limits and then pushed him even further for the sake of her name.

He’d never called her by her first name. Dana. It had always felt too soft, too familiar, too fragile. She was always Scully. And it wasn’t just a title; it was a shield, a boundary they had created together, a wall that kept everything unspoken but understood. To call her Dana would have been to acknowledge a vulnerability neither of them could afford to expose.

For a long time, he thought about the meaning of her name. Dana. A pearl. A symbol of something precious, something rare, something born of pressure and pain, and yet, something more beautiful than anything else. She had always been that to him. Something he could never hold in his hands but could only try to protect from the world that wanted to break her.

But she had never needed to hear him say that. She had always known. She was a pearl, too beautiful for him to touch in the way that he longed to, too precious to be made vulnerable by his words, a testament to the definition of her name. And so he had kept it inside. The ‘Dana’ he had never called her. The pearl he had never acknowledged aloud.

[anulithots]

Link click yapper here sorry but Im dying to know how many lasts/first did CXS forget/never got to experience again. Like I think that CXS did off himself in the flashback LG has when he got shot so I wonder what changed in that timeline for the ending to change (although the results were the same)

TW for discussions of CXS’s suicide

Oohhh so like what differences there was in this timeline from the last? The things CXS experienced the last time around that he won’t be able to experience in the current timeline for the sake of keeping him alive?

(I am in pain. Also note that plot theories are slightly out of my area of expertise - character and theme analysis - but I’ll try my best!)

Okay so this is partially inspired by @snowpoet123’s amazing fic - three time’s the charm - so I think that CXS doesn’t get to experience becoming close with Lu Guang in this timeline, and there MUST be some things he missed there. Not to say that Lu Guang and CXS aren’t as close in the current timeline because they are close in literally every timeline and every medium they are so queer for each other afjaskdfjasd. (I have a whole essay on the trust between them /exaggeration but not by much). So I imagine that CXS would miss a lot of those ‘firsts’ with Lu Guang like… idk what do normal freinds do… okay nevermind what would these two nuerodivergent sillies do… I imagine they would play a lot of basketball and just hang out before and after a lot before they did the whole ‘moving in together and being business partners thing’ (apologies for my pandering the headache is headaching today).

Like in the current timeline he ‘miraculously appeared in their lives’. So I imagine there would be lots of little misadventures - similar to the chibi shorts - before they trusted each other to such a degree. Paticularly in college and such… and I’ll have to see the yingdu arc to be sure but… hmm I imainge tihngs would be different there as well. And I don’t think it’s needs to be dramatic at all, like it would be wonderous if their first tiem around they are just.. there for each other.

I saw this one headcannon where CXS would speak for Lu Guang if Lu Guang didn’t know what to say (in social situations). And I think it would go both ways tbh. With Lu GUang doing things for CXS if CXS is upset (similar to post-ep 5)

… I feel like I’m not answering this right. mmm i’ll come back to this and add more thoughts… after I nap.

OKay what changed for the timeline to change -

If one goes with the ‘Lu Guang didn’t have powers in the first timeline and CXS passed them to Lu Guang when he died in Lu Guang’s arms (very queer of him)’ theory, then they wouldn’t have had their time travel business in the first timeline. Perhaps CXS went on his own through photos, and one can theorize whether he went back in time for the same purpose of getting information from the photos… because a part of me is like: ‘what if he tried to find his parents?’

But considering that CXS brought up the idea of the time travel business to Lu Guang, one can assume he came up with the idea first… and after sleeping my brain still isn’t working sooo I might come back to this.

But perhaps the time travel business originally was CXS diving into photos on his own, Qiao Ling getting clients, and CXS is still becoming friends with Lu Guang.

Without Lu Guang’s guidance, I do imagine CXS might mess around in time, and wouldn’t know the parameters of what can and can’t happen. ANd perhaps because he went back into time on his own, could not tell anyone and didn’t have much support for how emotionally draining the photos are…. perhaps then he dethatched from the world (See CXS post s1ep5) and did off himself because of that.

Lu Guang is horrified because at this point they’ve gotten very close, and he goes back in time to save him. Ta da ta da!

Thank you for the ask!

(My apologies if this is incoherent, I might write some more on this later!)

[l-lend]

Creator Self-Promotion

Rules: post the first lines of your last 10 fics you posted. If you have less than 10 fics posted, post the first lines of all your fics.

"But K, I don't write but I still create can I still play?"

Post your last 10 pieces and give us a play by play. What was the inspiration? Any fun facts you can share with us?

Anyway let's get on with it

1. Fishing for Compliments - Merman!Crosshair x F!Reader

A sigh passed the young woman’s lips as the sun began to disappear beneath the waves. The waves rocked her quaint vessel as if it were a mother soothing her child. Her meal as well as a plate of identical food remained untouched as she kept her gaze to the depths. Every ripple of its surface a reminder of the mounting minutes that her company kept her waiting.

2. Drop Me a Line - Wrecker x F!Reader

The young woman stifled a yawn as she continued to work the mass of dough to her standards to be plopped into pans to bake. She continued working the dough sparing glances to the chrono on the wall as the sky outside began to lighten with the sunrise. Her pulse spiked when the chrono was checked again. She abandoned the lump of dough as she snatched up a pastry box. The bell chiming as the door opened and closed.

3. Budding Romance - Rex x F!Reader

“And you’re sure you’ll have them there.”

“A bit of faith would be nice, Anakin.”

4. Skin in the Game - Wrecker x OC (Rina) (18+ Please view responsibly)

Wrecker was on the hunt. Thankfully the Marauder held only a few spaces to hide away as he searched the ship. His target tucked away by the sensors. Vibroblade twirling between his fingers while his idle gaze stared at the screen. The demolitions expert took a breath, hoping to find answers.

5. Hair Support - Tup x Reader

The days of the Clone Wars tended to drag on in between assignments. Thankfully, the Republic saw it fit to dispatch your research team with a clone legion escort to ensure the lush jungle planet would not eat you and your colleagues alive. It was in the sweltering heat of the afternoon that one of your study binges was interrupted. You shook your head knowing who dared tread into your tent.

6. Interrogations - Echo x F!Reader (18+ Please view responsibly)

The former arc trooper sighed. Another fruitless attempt at slipping free of his bonds. The chair he was bound to chilled any amount of exposed skin. The room kept dark to prevent him from gathering his bearings. He bided his time, waiting for the tell-tale clicking of his keeper. It was a whisper at first but grew louder as the automatic doors parted.

7. Personal Tastes - Hunter x F!Reader

Strands of meat sizzled and spat as she flipped the tangled mass. Her work distracting from the pair of eyes watching you from the doorway. Her culinary tasks from the staccato chops of a knife to peppers to the accented clink of a mortar and pestle offered a calming tune.

8. Just This Once, Everyone Lives - Rex x Reader

Your bottom lip remained captured between your teeth as the speeder came to a stop. The building looming over the city streets twinkled in the night. A beacon for personnel to gather while dressed to the nines. A hand curled around yours, smoothing over your knuckles.

9. Keep Away - UniversityAU Wrecker x Reader

You filed out with your fellow undergrads as your last class for the afternoon let out. the professor's voice offering mention of the end of the first sprint. You traversed amongst the student body's current before veering off to a corridor. The current loosening its grasp the closer you ventured toward the sanctuary of paper and ink.

10. Nothing Fight - Crosshair x F!Reader

It could be easy to say Clone Force 99 had a culture separate from the sea of clones. Clone medics would be reassigned in the blink of an eye and nat born medics often assigned whoever pissed off the higher ups. This led to your current long term assignment. Having a medic on board being the main reason one of your patients was released to his squad early pending observations.

NPT - @photogirl894 @rain-on-kamino @tecker @techs-stitches @littlemissmanga @annwayne @fakegingerrights @merkitty49 @moodymisty @starrylothcat

Wanna promote your work here too? Do it!

[starilicious]

mere haath mein (echo x gn!reader)

》 summary: reader and echo's love story from strangers to friends to lovers throughout the clone wars (a 4+1 type of story)

》 series masterlist: (please read the masterlist before continuing on!)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 | part +1 📍 (you are here!)

click here to read on AO3

》 part +1 word count: ~2.2k

》 part +1 warnings: none

》 part +1 spoilers: none

》 a/n: this is it! thank you to everyone who read this story ^_^ this fic started out purely self-indulgent bc i am an echo girlie at heart, but i hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. this scene is what inspired me writing all the previous parts and is therefore the longest part (because i still cannot believe people write off the clones like objects instead of people with emotions and hopes and fears :( ) please do let me know your thoughts on this fic and if you could like to see any additional parts in this series! enjoy this last chapter :DD

+१ (+1)

At first, it’s the little things. How sometimes he can’t tear open a meal packet easily, or how he takes longer to put on his armor. How he adjusts his grip on his blaster, or he types up reports slower on his datapad.

Of course, Echo never complains. It’s not in his nature to, especially not while you’re at war, and there are arguably bigger and worse things to worry about.

But you notice anyway.

It takes a month or two for you to realize his struggles. Even though you officially transferred to Clone Force 99, you still mainly work with the 501st and other legions thanks to Tech’s precise expertise. His knowledge combined with his training as a soldier and experience in the field meant you rarely accompanied them on missions. So you put your skills to work elsewhere, not wanting to remain idle.

You would come back to the Kamino barracks you shared with the boys only a few days a week at most. Long trips just to get back to the squad wasn’t exactly a good use of the Republic’s dwindling resources, so you make do with the time you have.

It’s not until you request to have your office transferred to Kamino do you observe Echo’s constant conflict with being one-handed. The extra time on your hands allows you to be with Clone Force 99 more often, giving you time to get to know them and how they work together.

Echo is so incredibly subtle about his pain, his exhaustion, and the numerous issues with his scomp link that it’s really only because of your engineering training that you detect the problem. At this point, your mind unconsciously latches onto anything that you perceive as a potential source of trouble. You’ve practically hardwired your brain to find anything and everything that could be a complication, no matter how small.

And you would be damned if you couldn’t fix this one.

So you shove all your impending datapad reports aside and pull up your CAD software and, with a little hacking, Echo’s medical records on your monitors. (You doubt any of the higher-ups will care anyway). You crack open your old notes from university, poring over them and Echo’s reports, scrutinizing every detail and writing down notes in your precious engineering notebook.

Frankly, you are livid over the fact that the Kaminoans or the Republic didn't give Echo a prosthetic to make his life easier. He's an ARC trooper for Maker's sake, constantly going on missions deemed too dangerous for any regular clone. Doesn't that warrant at least a little respect?

You don't dignify that question with a response, already knowing the answer to it. It pisses you off how little they care, how clones are viewed as expendable, how they're nothing more than sentient droids. Even someone at as high of a rank as Echo is still written off even though he has sacrificed everything for the Republic.

For the next week or so, you work in earnest, staying up late nights and waking up at early hours to continue working as you regain the knowledge you temporarily lost while working as an astroengineer. As cool as starships are, nothing can compare to the satisfaction of completing a project that changes someone’s life–it’s why you wanted to be a biomedical engineer in the first place.

Not to mention your constant rage acting as fuel to keep going with the project and refuse to stop.

You build prototype after prototype, constantly adjusting and readjusting your designs, scrapping ideas and thinking of new ones. It’s an arduous process, especially for a challenge you have never faced before, but you put in everything you have to give because this is for Echo.

And Echo is worth it.

You meticulously note down every flaw and success, wanting to have something to look back on for future iterations--after all, there are always more ways to improve.

There are times where Echo is close to figuring out your surprise for him, often walking in while you're mentally elbow deep in your designs, the exploded-view of the parts up on your monitor as you solder together the 3D-printed parts. You luckily throw a cover over the prototype and switch to a different project right before he sees. He glances at you in surprise, but decides not to push, much to your relief.

The worst (and, arguably, best) part is when Echo worries about you, concerned about your lack of sleep and how you practically live in your office makerspace. You come into the barracks long after Echo is asleep and leave long before he's awake. And there are nights where you just don't come in at all, often having too much work to finish because of how much time and effort your job demands of you. Echo does what he can, dropping off meals whenever he's able and cushioning your head with a pillow whenever you fall asleep in your chair. He hates that it isn't enough.

Every time he asks, you deflect his questions and his concern, choosing to inquire about his most recent mission or how his kinship with the Bad Batch is coming along. He reluctantly answers you as he watches you multitask, eagerly listening to him while you repair another starship in the main garage.

But finally, Echo has had enough.

He barges into your office in the middle of the night as soon as he gets back to Kamino after a particularly long mission, heavy footsteps startling you as you scramble to cover the prosthetic.

Echo seethes out your full name, hand curled into a fist as he points at you with his scomp link, and you know you're in deep shit now.

"That's it. I’m going to bed right now and I am taking you with me,” he declares, anger and exhaustion dripping from every word.

“But–”

“No buts! For the past month, I’ve been patient. I do my best to support you and ask you what you need and you can barely even give me the time of day!” Echo exclaims, exasperated. You bite the inside of your cheek, the guilt beginning to weed into your heart as he continues.

“Every time I ask you what’s going on, what’s keeping you here, you just shrug me off and answer with a question of your own,” Echo scoffs, throwing his arms up. “And forget me, what about you? You don’t sleep, you barely eat–when was the last time you did your own damn laundry?”

Your body curls into itself, head hanging down. You can’t meet his eyes, ashamed of how you were so caught up in making his life better that you inadvertently made it worse.

The fight bleeds out of Echo as fast as it entered and he lets out a resigned sigh, posture slackening as he stands in front of you. He lifts your chin up to meet his gaze. The swirl of distress and disquiet is rampant, as clear as the dark shadows under his eyes.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Echo pleads, the statement coming out as a whisper. You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod. You didn’t want to give it to him today, preferring to wrap it up and hand it to him after he’s well-rested, but at this point, you feel as if you have no choice.

You reach over the durasteel table and uncover the prosthetic hand in a flourish. Echo chokes on air in shock as he stares, frozen and rooted to the ground. You gently pick up your prototype and hold it out to him.

“This is what’s going on,” you reveal, the apology laced in between your words.

Echo is silent as he takes it from your hands, examining the prosthetic in awe before looking at you, tears in his eyes. You smile at him, your face mirroring his own as they begin to fall.

“I-I don’t even know what to say–”

“A thank you will be enough,” you tease lightheartedly, and he laughs in spite of himself, voice caught in his throat as he begins to cry.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug that you eagerly return. When he lets go, you begin explaining yourself and the prototype.

“I noticed you were having difficulty doing stuff now that you’re one-handed and I wanted to do something about it since clearly no one else cared,” you frown at the last part, your fury seeping through your words. “This is what I’ve been working on. It’s painful enough trying to have a body readjust to the regular world, but you have it worse because we’re in the midst of a galactic war. So I decided to do my best to make it a little easier for you.”

You sigh as you watch him admire the prosthetic, turning it over in his hand as he listens to you. Your fingers tap lightly against your work table. “When you put it on, it accommodates the scomp link and hides it within, making it look just like a regular hand.”

“I thought you were an astroengineer?” Echo cuts in, confusion written plainly on face as he glances at you.

You chuckle in response to his hidden question. “Technically, I’m not. I’m a biomedical engineer by training. I learned astroengineering on the fly for the GAR,” you smile fondly as Echo blinks in surprise before rolling his eyes at your awful pun. He smiles.

You continue then, demonstrating the hand for him, pulling the prototype out of his grip and gently latching it onto the mechanical part. “I put in a kind of cloaking technology too.”

You tap the interface on the inner wrist and the metal fades away to the exact color of his brown skin. Echo gasps in surprise as he flexes his muscles, the hand smoothly curling into a fist.

“This way, it literally looks and acts like a normal hand and you can go on more covert missions,” you say proudly as you watch him play with it. This feature was the hardest part of making the prosthetic. Converting neural impulses into something a machine could not only understand but actually translate into action that didn’t look clanky and awkward was probably the most frustrating challenge you have ever faced.

You tap the interface again and it fades back to metal. “Inside each finger is a tool you can use out in the field,” you continue, having each finger retract to show knives, cutters, and even a poison vial.

“And lastly…” you make the fingers reverse their action and then retract the entire hand, revealing the scomp. “If you want to use the scomp link, you can do so without having to take the entire hand off!”

Echo stares at the scomp link uncomprehendingly. He’s doing that a lot. Echo doesn’t say anything, hesitantly touching the prosthetic with his flesh hand.

“Right–uh, well, this is only the first prototype, so there are still a lot of problems with it. I have to run a debugger through the code again and make sure the cloaking tech holds up in the field since planet environments can really impact the way everything works. There are a bunch of tests I need to–”

“I love you.”

You stop abruptly, mind short-circuiting as you glance up at Echo in surprise, clearly not expecting such a phrase to cut off your anxious ramble.

“I–what?” you ask rather eloquently. You mentally facepalm. Nice going.

“I love you,” Echo whispers into the space between you, a shared breath holding the weight of the phrase in the charged air. You search his eyes in question–does he mean it? You find your answer amidst the sparkling galaxies and twinkling stars in his warm gaze and you breathe in his confession before exhaling your own.

“I love you too, Echo.”

The smile that breaks out on his face is unrivaled. He scoops you up in his arms, much to your surprise, and spins you around, a laugh bubbling out of you both when your foot hits your chair.

Echo sets you down ever so gently, mellow kindness permeating his every action as he leans in. “Can I kiss you?”

Your heart melts at the patient question because of course he can. Echo is so careful about never pushing boundaries, constantly taking the time to make sure you’re comfortable. And so, you answer him with a nod and shift your face to meet his lips.

It’s chaste and slightly awkward–Echo doesn’t know where to put his hands, instead hovering over your waist, and your nose bumps into his when you move. You both let out a quiet laugh of peace as you rest your head over his heart, his arms engulfing you in a hug. The cool, white lights of your makerspace shine down on you both as you breathe in the light sandalwood incense you light when you work. Rain patters the window gently and you sigh, listening to Echo’s calming heartbeat.

“Let’s go to sleep, cyar'ika.”

---

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 4.5.1 | part 4.5.2 | part +1 📍 (you are here!)

please consider reblogging! it really helps me and is super encouraging ^_^

[linnetagain]

Following up on that last Anon’s ask, I’m trying to decide if Good Men and Monsters is up my alley. I love The Season (we know this), I love the First Light series (had to laugh at the “oops figure skating” author’s note in one of the most recent chapters; I’m torn between wanting All Season All The Time and eagerly awaiting wedding bells in And All Things End), and A Good Heart is just objectively, categorically cute (can confirm, read it again just a second ago, can we expect to see who I assume is Bear-But-With-Wings in First Light? All Astarions should have a kitty, it’s just the rules), and what fools these mortals be is queued up to read as soon as I’m done writing this.

Obviously, GMaM is your only fic rated E. That’s not an immediate turn-off, given Astarion and Gale’s canon backstories. I probably would have clicked through already if it was just that, but I was wondering if you could elaborate further on a couple of the Gale tags? Specifically “Priest Gale” and “Gale doesn’t have the orb but he is catholic so.” Real-world religious trauma is tricky for me. Obviously canon!Gale has religious trauma surrounding Mystra, but what relationship does GMaM!Gale have with his faith? Is it just your standard “Catholic guilt,” or is it something more? And where this one has smut (assuming it’s consensual bloodweave smut, and not referring to the rape/non-con tags, and Gale is a Catholic priest, does that mean by being with Astarion he breaks his vows?

I would love to be able to read everything you write, because I adore the way you write relationships (particularly as a demice/demiro myself), but I have to be careful about religion in fanfics. Whether I end up reading GMaM or not, I hope you are able to have the time to write Part 3 to your satisfaction, because I can tell it means a lot to you and your readers. Hope you’re having a good day!!

Hello!

Thank you as always for your kindness and enthusiasm I appreciate it so much 💕

Ooof, yeah, I wish this was an easy one to answer but it is not.

I am writing Victorian 'Catholic' Gale from a position as a queer person who was raised catholic and I know I'm bringing my personal experience into that. Where Priest!Gale is in the fic is a place where a lot of queer people have been with religion, I think - he believes that there is goodness in the world, and he wants there to be more of it, and for his whole life he's been told the only way that can be achievable is through God. Specifically His God. If he finds joy or - heaven forbid - pleasure anywhere else, he is Bad. And he copes with that a lot by pushing away from having to address that incongruence and the guilt he carries for it, focusing on trying to do his best to be kind and helpful and improve his parishioner's lives.

A lot of his background character arc in the fic is him beginning to challenge that because Astarion's sheer existence is challenging that, and trying to discern where the line between God and What People Say God Says lies, as well as whether he believes in God. Which is fun when you throw in the supernatural and occult as a fact of existence. It's also established that it's not a new struggle for him. Hea dealing with internalised homophobia and unconscious bias for sure, and he doesn't always handle it in the best way.

The E rating is for consensual soft smut I have planned for act 3 which is of indiscernible levels of explicitness at the time of writing, but yeah, the non-con tag is in reference to Astarion's background which is very similar to in-game. It is mentioned but only briefly, and off-stage, as it were.

I hope that helps you make a decision and if it's a no for any reason please don't feel bad, it's important to look after yourself!