#Please end capitalism so that nobody ever has to know this ever again

[pickledkiwiberry]

What an unbelievably cruel potion to own.

I’m so√﹀\_︿╱﹀╲/╲︿_/︺╲▁︹_/﹀\_︿╱▔︺\/\︹▁╱﹀▔╲︿_/︺▔╲▁︹_/﹀▔\⁄﹀\╱﹀▔︺\︹▁︿╱\╱﹀▔╲︿_/︺▔\︿╱\︿︹_/▔﹀\_︿╱▔︺\︹╱﹀▔╲︿_/︺▔\╱﹀╲▁︹_/﹀\_︿╱▔︺\︹▁︿⁄╲︿╱﹀╲

[lovelytsunoda]

common people // mercedes amg (v)

summary: baby merc has a magical brush with love at a college event....too bad she doesn't get his name, contact information or any way to ever see him again

pairing: platonic!mercedes amg x intern!female!reader

author's note: i'm back, bitches! y'all should know i use this series as a coping mechanism for some of the things going on in my life....just putting that out there. that's why it sometimes seems like baby merc is just floundering, but today, it's her world and we're just living in it.

"nobody is going to be at this thing anyways since its so close to exams, so don't even worry that you can't make it." baby merc laughs, turning down her radio as she tries to reverse into a parking spot at her college. "the parking lot is packed though, must be lots of late classes today."

on the other end of the phone line, doriane pin laughs. "i'm sorry still! we've only got a few more days to hang out before i have to go to zandvoort for more academy testing."

"listen, if a mercedes sponsored driver can win anything at this point, i will be happy about it because or car is shit with a capital 's'." she paused for a moment. "please don't let toto know i said that."

doriane laughed gleefully. since the addition of the f1 academy driver to mercedes’ army of teenagers and young adults, each one mentored by toto and Susie themselves, y/n and doriane had become close friends. closer than friends, almost. it was nice to go to work and be around another girl her own age for once.

she stepped out of the aging, secondhand mercedes she drove, locking the car door and tucking her keys into her pocket as she crossed the lot to the student centre. there were dozens of college students milling about, despite all the on-site food options having closed half an hour ago.

the student center smelled like fresh paint when she opened the door, a serene expression in her face as she wandered into the common room, delighted to see the electric fireplace going, the room filed with round tables full of canvases and acrylic.

the college paint nights had always been her happy place. no expectations, a relaxed environment. an instructor who didn’t care if you followed her instructions to the ‘t’ (or at all). it was a welcome break from all of the other crap going on in her life.

she took her usual spot near the front, donning the dollar store apron hung over the back of the chair and settling in front of the canvas, a chill britpop playlist humming from the in-ceiling speaker set.

the group had been painting happily for ages when he wandered in. with the blended background almost done, she looked up from her conversation with the blonde girl next to her to catch him tentatively standing in the doorway.

his hair was messy, flopping around his face. he had airpods in, and she could faintly hear the riff of a rolling stones song. his sweater read ‘elevating devices.’ he was a trades boy.

“do you have room for one more?” he asked, looking over at olive, the program leader.

“of course!” olive grinned, caught in the middle of doing a blending demonstration on her forearm. “come on in, I can get you caught up.”

she felt her heart skip a beat when she realized that the only empty spot in the room was behind her. the boy smiled at her as he sat down, clumsily slipping into the gingham apron. it looked out of place with his hoodie and sweatpants, and the visual made her smile.

could this be it? the day something in her love life finally went right?

all throughout the paint night, since she was two steps ahead of everyone else (you go to every one of these things, you begin to pick up the tips and tricks of the trade), she found that she kept looking back at the newcomer, and admiring the look of concentration etched onto his face.

whatever happens, happens.

whatever happens, happens.

you did not come here to meet boys, you came here for you.

but goddamn it, he was so cute! and he painted! he was perfect! hell, he listened to the goddamn rolling stones!

it was the end of the night, 'pulp' playing on the speakers as the last few painters began to pack up.

"excuse me?" she felt a hand tap her shoulder, and she turned around from where she was repacking her primark purse to face the boy in the lifting devices sweater.

she hoped he couldn't hear her heart beating out of her chest.

"what are we supposed to do with these?" he asked, holding up one of olive's easels.

"they fold up." she said quietly, almost shyly as she took the metal stand from his hands. "like this. i come here all the time, helping olive pack up is the least i can do."

"nice." he said sheepishly, reaching for his own painting. "this was my first time."

"that's pretty good for your first try." she complimented, picking up her own canvas, as well as her car keys.

"can i walk you out?' the boy asked, gesturing towards the door.

"sure." she smiled, blush rising on her cheeks. she turned, flagging olive down and hoping the boy wouldn't notice. due to her frequent attendance at the paint parties, olive an dher had become fast friends, and she didn't miss the way the painter flashed her a thumbs up and suggestive wink as the pair left the student center.

"so, you a fan of the stones? i could hear them playing from your headphones when you walked in." she asked, trying to start a conversation, and hoping that he somehow found her interesting.

"a fairly recent one." he laughed, free hand in the pocket of his sweatpants.

sweatpants. we can work on that. three months dating me, she thought, and i can get you into a snazzy pair of jeans.

"i took a history course on the british invasion as an elective. it's all about the stones, the beatles, the who. any british band with 'the' in the name, really. the kinks are my favourite."

"awesome. my dad is a big jagger fan. i grew up singing 'you can't always get what you want' when other kids my age were singing 'apple bottom jeans'."

god, she loved the guy already.

"what are you studying?"

"law. i have my last final exam tomorrow, and i'm actually doing some part-time, minimum wage office work for a formula one team. legally, i can't tell you what exactly i'm doing." she grinned. "well. i could. but then i'd have to kill you."

she'd been waiting her whole life to say that.

"that's awesome." worlds were burned for a smile like the one this guy had. it was dangerous just how strongly she felt after barely talking to him. "i doubt my chosen career path will land me anywhere near as exciting as an f1 team. but who knows, i might be paid the big bucks to fix a service elevator in their building."

"well, this is me." she frowned, pointing in the direction of her parking lot. why did she feel so strongly about leaving a guy she didn't even know? "it was nice painting with you. you should come to another one in september."

"yeah, maybe i will. are you going to the one at the other campus tomorrow? i might try and make it, since my classes are over at that campus anyways."

"i can't, it's right in the middle of my exam." but god did she wish she could. if she wasn't so scared of failing, she'd skip the exam just for him.

"right, right." he nodded, gesturing towards the residency building behind him. "this is me. it was nice talking to you."

"you too." she smiled sheepishly, turning around and beginning the walk to her car.

she resisted the urge to look back, worried that it would be followed by something potentially foolish, like an 'aren't you going to kiss me', or an invitation to get coffee (that he could then very well turn down).

it wasn't until she was back in her car, heat turned on and classic rock playing, that she realized that he might have very well been into her, and she didn't even get his name.

"shit!"

__________________

"i'm telling you, doriane, this was my rom-com moment waiting to happen and i blew it!" she groaned, face in hands as she sat around the round table in the break room, recounting her woes to not just her closest colleagues, but those she considered to be her friends as well.

she had always loved the break room. it was light and airy, painted in white with bamboo furniture and a wall of windows. sometimes, she brought her work laptop in there and worked at one of the green couches in the corner.

"you were so close!" doriane commiserated with her, placing one hand over hers. "babes, you got this. you'll be ready for the next stud who comes along."

across the table, frederik vesti hid his grin behind his cup of coffee. "hey, maybe you dodged a bullet. he could have been a serial killer. or worse, a premier league fan."

doriane snorted, and ungraceful sound, yet one that was full of love. "yeah right."

she had been over the situation millions of times since the she'd gotten back in her car, and she just could not figure out why it had never occurred to her to get the boy's name, or to offer up her own.

"eh, you'll get the next one." george shrugged, placing a hand on her shoulder as he moved to stand behind the young intern. "just look at me and carmen. it took me a very long time to find someone like her. she'd one of a kind, that woman. i'm gonna marry her someday."

"better get cracking on that one, george old boy." frederik laughed. "i want your seat, if the kid doesn't beat me there."

"they're not putting kimi in an f1 seat." doriane argued. "its way too soon."

"i dunno, bearman did a really good job with that ferrari. if he's the blueprint, toto will just follow what his mates are doing so it looks like he's keeping with the times."

the seat conversation was beginning to make her nervous, and she could feel the hives rising on her arms as she tried to remind herself that lewis leaving mercedes had nothing to do with her.

it was the timing of his decision, announcing he was leaving so soon after she felt like she had truly made a home at brackley. but it made sense. a man like lewis needed to go somewhere that could give him the car he needed to take home that eighth championship, and currently, it wasn't looking like that was going to happen here.

that didn't change the fact that it stung. that in a way, it felt like lewis was leaving her.

"y/n, do you know who toto's been talking to about the second seat?" geroge asked, raising an eyebrow as he blew on his tea, steam rising onto his pale face. pair that with the cardigan he was wearing, and he was starting to look like someone's geriatric grandfather (and she said that with all the love in her heart that she had to give)

y/n did know. legal had been very busy organizing and prepping meetings, as well as drawing up draft contracts and disclosure agreements.

but a non-disclosure agreement worked both ways. and, since she liked fucking with george, he wasn't getting a proper answer.

she grinned, sipping the last of her hot chocolate "no can do. signed an nda. expressly forbids me from selling the gossip to the press, or from telling nosy british boys."

"that's not fair! you're british as well!" george whined. "come on, it affects me as well."

y/n laughed, appreciating the light air that george brought to the conversation, instead of making it a somber affair about lewis' departure. "oh, would you look at the time. my break is over, and i now need to go track down some engineers and get them to swear affidavits."

fred looked at her with a confused glace, his head cocked to the side like a golden retriever puppy. "why? who's taking us to court?"

"nobody is suing us. it's time to make our cost cap submissions to the fia, and the engineers need to swear that they're telling the truth."

"so you can tell us about that, but not about contract talks?" george tried one last time to get an answer from her as she packed up her tote, bag, pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her knuckles.

"nice try. good luck on the sim this afternoon, vesti over here says its not pretty."

TAGS:

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @clemswrld @thatsdemko @userlando @diorleclerc @sidcrosbyspuck @arshiyuh

[mcheang]

I have a prompt idea! So a rich kid transfers into DuPont who is the son of the prime minister or something. He can be bratty like Chloe and deceitful like Lila. The first thing he does is put Chloe in her place since her dad can’t do anything to him and exposes Lila as the liar she is with the help from his connections.But here’s the kicker, he has a massive crush on Marinette. But she has a massive crush on Adrien, someone he looks down on. Cue jealousy and retribution. Basically Adrien gaining an antagonist of his own because if he can have FOUR girls getting into a cat fight of her (two of whom are nasty bullies) then Marinette can have her own evil love interest. Bonus points if he is beginning to endear to Marinette after standing up to her bullies.

Remy Gusteau

Can you guess where I got his name? But I imagine him to look like Draco Malfoy if he has to keep saying “My father….” Lol

Your prompt is the first in a long while that has given my that old flair of imagination :D Thank you. Also, for anyone else who wants to send me a prompt, note I have not watched the latest season yet as I am waiting for all episodes to air first. So no spoilers please.

The only reason Remy even agreed to go to Paris after the rise of Hawkmoth was because it was the capital of gastronomy.

Even so, he refused to stay as a guest at the Le Grand Paris. There is no way he is staying in the same hotel as that bully Chloe. Honestly why Ladybug even let her remain a hero after she purposefully endangered a train full of Parisians is beyond him. And ever since he saw her purposefully sabotage a cooking show, he has been asking his father why her father was even still mayor if he could not even raise his daughter properly.

Even so, the mayor personally welcomed Remy at the airport.

Mayor: my daughter attends Dupont too, she can be your tour guide.

Remy: I certainly hope she learned to improve her personality. It doesn’t look good on France if the mayor of our capital has a bully for a daughter.

The mayor paled at the threat. “Of course she has improved. Why else would Ladybug give her a miraculous again?”

Remy: I guess we’ll see.

Later that night, Andre begged his daughter to be on her best behavior because otherwise, it might cost him his job.

Naturally Chloe was appalled. She started to protest when even her mother agreed with Andre. “It would never do for my darling to lose his job. All Chloe has to do is act nice in front of the prime minister’s boy, right? That’s easy to do. Chloe, if you can’t handle even this much, ask your sister for advice.”

The next day Chloe went out of her way to greet Remy and did not even give Sabrina orders…only to be ignored by Remy.

Ugh. Who did he think he is?

Sabrina: Um, the prime minister’s son?

The only seat left available was next to Ivan, right in front of Lila.

As Caline told Remy that Marinette would be his tour guide, Lila volunteered instead.

Lila: Oh, I can do it. As the ambassador’s daughter, I’m sure Marinette would has a lot to do anyway.

Marinette scowled at Lila. And she wasn’t the only one.

Remy himself was not happy. He recognised Marinette because of her parents and uncle. He had actually been looking forward to discuss recipes with her. Why did that nobody have to butt in?

Well that nobody was Lila, and clearly she never heard of personal space. For someone supposed to be giving a tour of the classrooms and teachers, she sure talked a lot about herself instead.

Don’t tell him that everybody actually indulged her like this?

Later that day, after class ended, he asked Caline why she does not try reining in Lila’s tall tales.

Caline: Lila has a special disease. She didn’t want her classmates to see her differently because of it.

Remy stared cooly at this dumb woman. “Hmm. Do you know something, I’ve heard the other students tell me I was in the akuma class. I thought perhaps it might be due to Chloe but perhaps you have something to do with it too. I wonder if I should ask my father to bring an inspector here.”

Caline: If you think it’s needed. I have only ever encouraged my students to forgive each other.

Remy: right, which is why you never told your class they were being lied to by Lila and denied them the chance to forgive her.

True to his word, Remy did bring an inspector around, and was he thorough! Marinette’s previous expulsion case was brought up and both Damocles and Caline were fired for mishandling the case. Remy even forced them to apologize to Marinette. Some, including Adrien, might protest this was harsh, but Remy drily pointed out that Caline’s method of forgiving bullies without punishing them was called enabling. Did she expect them to forgive Hawkmoth too? And Damocles is not supposed to turn school property into some cheap owl cave, nor punish the school for Chloe’s misdeeds. They were like children in the bodies of adults.

Oh, and Lila was exposed too. She had to confess her special ability to the whole school, outing her as someone who likes to tell tall tales.

Understandably, akumas appeared. Curiously though, they never got much chance to cause chaos. Mainly because the no-nonsense inspector and Remy struck them in the head once the transformation had finished, giving them no time to react, and proceeded to keep hitting them till they passed out.

Everyone stared at them.

Remy: What? The miraculous cure will fix everything.

And Remy finally got to discuss baking with Marinette! He just didn’t understand why she was so fixated on Adrien Agreste. The model reminded Remy of Caline, always about forgiving bullies. Spoken like someone who has never been bullied himself!

He just has to help Marinette see that Adrien isn’t worth her time. Some planned situations to show how useless the boy is. Good thing he has the mayor’s daughter at his beck and call. And he just knows she is dying to be mean again.

[7grandmel]

Character Archives - [FILE-05]

President Haltmann

"...Sir, it's strange...I don't really remember who I executed today."

The tragic accomplice to The Voice Inside Your Head [FILE-03] and CEO of the Haltmann Works Company: it's about time to talk about President Max Profitt Haltmann. While in many ways little more than a pawn in The Voice's schemes, a figment transported out of SiIvaGunner's computer purely as a way to optimize the rate of military production, Haltmann grows to stand on his own two feet during the course of the Christmas Comeback Crisis - an act that would end up costing him greatly.

Haltmann's appearance and characterization is taken directly from Kirby: Planet Robobot, one of the biggest influences toward the SiIvaGunner storyline in which he's featured. Much like in said game, he remains externally driven by capital gain and raw development, yet is internally conflicted through his emotional tie to his lost daughter, Suzie. Due to his nature as a figment, as a fictional character from pre-existing media, The Voice knows this well in advance when his takeover begins and comes to the businessman with a proposal. The two will work together to enforce The Voice's totalitarian regime, and in return, he will bring Haltmann his daughter. Haltmann complies - he doesn't know the most about this SiIvaGunner channel, and is in some ways unsure of The Voice's true goals, but aids in running the takeover in hope of the light at the end of the tunnel. As their partnership continues, however, The Voice's arrogance and ego becomes more and more evident to Haltmann, and he soon realizes that his partner has no genuine intent to respect his end of the bargain. Haltmann overthrows The Voice with a new goal in mind: to maximize the SiIvaGunner channel's profits to degrees absurd enough, to eventually allow him to bring her back.

Through his takeover of SiIvaGunner, Haltmann began valuing stability, development, and efficiency more than ever before, beginning projects such as to how to properly replicate and channel SiIvaGunner's imaginative mind and ways to replicate Wood Man's [FILE-04] ability of interdimensional travel. If The Voice Inside Your Head is a manifestation of the angry, discordant side of the SiIvaGunner fanbase, and Wood Man represents the free spirit and creative will of the SiIvaGunner team, Haltmann could then be seen as representing the third piece of the dynamic - the team members who operate in silence in hopes of maintaining the ship. Haltmann was willing to work with The Voice Inside Your Head, the worst form of creative toxicity taken corporeal form, in pursuit of an unattainable pot of gold at the end of the rainbow - perhaps, then, not so different from the SiIvaGunner team members who have fought through controversy and fan discourse, time and time again, to keep the thing they love afloat, to allow the channel to reach some greater nirvana at the end of it all. To many, SiIvaGunner is more than a weird creative outlet, it's something with legacy, with expectations to meet, from all corners of the web. What Chad Warden [FILE-02] once said may ring true, to let the team do whatever they please - but will that allow the channel to meaningfully progress?

In the end, Haltmann fulfilled his purpose as intended by The Voice, complying in their partnership for as long as he was useful to him. Yet with his surprise revolution, and through his ongoing under-the-hood efforts - through the Haltmann's Archives, through what the R&D team accomplished, and through his continued effort to maintain absolute quality of the SiIvaGunner channel - his impact on the channel is unmistakable. Few may now remember him - fewer still after the fate that befell him - but Haltmann and his team held the SiIvaGunner channel alive when nobody else could.

[dreamingsushi]

Dance of the Phœnix - Episode 22

Hello hello! There was a big icing rain storm where I live last week and I got cut off from civilisation for far too long, which made me a little late on my posting schedule for this blog. As I am a little more busy than when I started blogging again, it might take a little more time to get exactly back on track and have a few posts made ahead of time, but I am working on it. Anyways, at least nobody are really expecting those posts, so it’s not like it matters that much.

We left Feng Wu and Jun Linyuan inside a cave, with a crazy and lost Wu Youdao trying to destroy all of the Junwu Academy in revenge for his lost lover I guess. Quite the unnecessary scenario in my opinion, but why should we say no to more drama?

So the door opened and Jun Linyuan pulls back Feng Wu that was trying to get on. He wanted to make sure everything was safe. Meanwhile, Wou Youdao is still desperately fighting the elder. He can’t win so he takes a pill that is going to triple his spiritual energy, but the downside is that once the effects are gone, basically, he dies. It also has the nice effect of making him go bersek. Yu Mingye is ordered by his father to not intervene. Xuan Yi comes right in time with Feng Xun to save his grandfather and everybody join forces to try and stop Wu Youdao.

Meanwhile, Feng Wu and Jun Linyuan are still going down some stairs in the secret passage way they found together. They end up in some sort of a cave that used to be occupied by a lady and they discover through a letter that was left that it was were Yunniang lived after the fire and the reason they never found her corpse, because she didn’t die in the first place. Nut now she left for some time as it’s all dusty. The letter is addressed to Wu Youdao.

Yu Mingye decides to jump in against his father’s order because Feng Wu would be sad if things keep going on. Everyone else is badly injured. Old Ba is coming over. Feng Wu and Jun Linyuan joins everyone as Wu Youdao is strangling powerfully Yu Mingye. Feng Wu shows him the letter, giving enough time to Yu Mingye to break free from Wu Youdao’s grasp. Even though it’s dangerous, Feng Wu rushes in to hand the letter, not being killed thanks to Jun Linyuan protecting her. She ends ups using spiritual energy to send the content of the letter to Wu Youdao’s mind. Yunniang asks him to forget about his revenge which makes him go back to normal. Before dying, he reveals to Feng Wu where is the thing that she’s looking for, but of course, it’s not for us to know. Yet. Really bad acting from Yang Chaoyue, I can’t really believe she’s that sad about Wu Youdao dying. Especially since he almost just killed like... everyone. Old Ba comes in and says it’s too and that she should respect his desire and let him go peacefully. The acting does get better when she’s not crying loudly anymore.

Feng Wu tells Jun Linyuan that she’s not Feng Wu and that she will probably have to go back where she’s from someday. Jun Linyuan says he guessed that much. He tried to convince himself that she changed because of the accident, but he knew within himself. He’s happy that she told him. He says that he also fell in love with her, ever since they met in the frosty forest. Extremely long streak of flashback. What a waste of time. And of course, Zuo Qingluan was lurking around and must have heard everything.

Old Ba gives medicine to the Emperor and the Empress invites him to stay over in the capital to teach at the Academy. He declines and suggest that if the emperor needs any treatment to ask Feng Wu, since he thought her some medicine. The emperor is quite pleased with Feng Wu and tells Old Ba to bring her along some other time.

Zuo Qingluan tries to tell Zhao Ge that Feng Wu isn’t herself, but she doesn’t believe her. Of course, that makes Zuo Qingluan hate Feng Wu even more. She reports back what she heard to the empress and she orders her to kill Feng Wu, because she’s impeding her grand plans. Then she introduces Qingluan to the Dark night court lord, so she can increase her power and absorb the phœnix blood.

Feng Wu retrieves the second star piece and a scroll on cultivation left by Wu Youdao. Now she only has one left piece to find and her phœnix blood. But they should still be on high alert, because they don’t think it was that simple about the emperor’s illness.

Seems like Qingluan accepted to receive more power through learning the ways of the Dark night court.

Once Feng Wu goes to the Academy, she talks with Huang Li. She says she really did see her, because she called her name and that person answered. But they never showed their face. So someone they pretended to be Feng Wu. I can’t really imagine Zuo Qingluan do something like that... unless the empress ordered her to do so? I don’t know, it seems quite strange to me.

Another very long episode where we don’t learn much more, one step closer to the ending. I don’t really get why they brought back Old Ba into the story, his input was very minor. Zuo Qingluan is probably with Yu Mingye the two most interesting characters in this story. I really dislike her, because the story antagonize her against Feng Wu the main lead, however I think she has much more depth. She’s the kind of villain that deserves a redemption arc in my opinion, but I guess there won’t be much time for that at this. See you soon for the next episode.

[makeste]

BnHA 326: What’s up Kids, It’s Me, Your Old Pal Stain

Previously on BnHA: Ochako shamed the U.A. Clown Mob into letting Deku go back inside his own fucking school by giving them an hour-long speech about how not to be humongous dickheads. Kouta and Gigantic Fox Lady saved the manga by being the only ones brave enough to give Deku a hug. Shouto was all “man, all this togetherness sure does remind me of that promise you made that we would handle Touya together which you immediately bailed on, doesn’t it, Dad.” Aizawa was all, “for the one and a half people out there who thought that my losing an eye and a leg might actually make me less sexy, I’m very happy to prove you wrong.” All Might was all, “[standing outside the U.A. fortress alone in the rain talking to someone or something??].” Like seriously, what was up with that though.

Today on BnHA: All Might is all “here I am in Kamino having a belated mid-life crisis because Deku abandoned me and I’m a terrible mentor and everything sucks and I hate myself.” Stain is all, “don’t make me come over there and give you a ten page speech about why you’re still the goat while menacingly holding you at swordpoint the entire time” because idk if you knew this guys, but Stain is pretty crazy actually. Anyway so he does that, and then All Might gets all emotional, and then the lady from chapter 92 shows up and gives All Might’s statue an encouraging pep talk, and then Horikoshi is all “and it even stopped raining lol can you believe this shit I’m not even a little bit subtle,” and he really isn’t. But I still got emotional anyway, because seeing people reassure All Might that everything he’s struggled for his entire life hasn’t been in vain just got to me okay. Horikoshi knows I am weak to the All Might feels and he just goes for the jugular every time, that bastard.

lmao. “in the neverending downpour, All Might is...” yeah, thank you, glad we’re getting right to that then

“All Might is driving 95 mph in his busted ass car in the pouring rain, is what he’s doing.” huh

so basically a day or two after his adopted child refused to accept the handmade bento that he packed with love, my man is out here acting like he’s got nothing to live for anymore. this sure bodes well for certain prophecies on which the clock is still ominously ticking down

his fucking face though omg. is it weird that I’m kind of hoping more people ambush him just because I think it’d be funny to see them get their asses kicked like the last bunch

(ETA: or maybe he will just stand there openly not giving a fuck and basically daring them to stab him!! get it together please All Might.)

side note, “anti-hero supporters” is such a strange way of saying “people who hate heroes”, which I’m assuming is what they actually wanted to say?? this makes it sound like it’s a group that really loves antiheroes. “these Hannibal stans have been a real menace lately. time to go deal with them”

ha ha ha, fucking ouch

are you really gonna do it Horikoshi you bastard. are you really going to let that be the final encounter between the two characters whose relationship you once described as the vertical axis of the entire fucking story. are you really gonna?? huh??

huh

you’re telling me you were driving 112 mph and you still didn’t get there in time. you’re losing your touch old man. lol Todo’s ice is almost fully melted already, how late were you

(ETA: so apparently this is taking place after the end of chapter 325, meaning he went to U.A., hung out for a bit, saw the kids come back with his bedraggled half-dead protégé in tow, watched as they shamed the civilians into some long-overdue character development, and then was all “welp, time to go argue with the hero-hating faction or something because I’m feeling useless.” and Edge just let him go, just like that. though to be fair I have to imagine it’s pretty hard to say no to All Fucking Might.)

also belated lol at the fact that the kids were all “yeahhhhhhh we are definitely not gonna touch that thing, let’s just leave it here, he doesn’t need it anyway.” probably the right call to make since they couldn’t get a hazmat team on such short notice

fuck. ha ha ha fucking ouch part two

All Might please put that thing down before you get gangrene. also yeah, you dropped the ball, good for you to acknowledge it. nobody’s perfect and you did your best. but yeah you could have handled a lot of things completely differently. but I still love you

is Horikoshi really putting this flashback here. are you serious. what kind of fucking sadist

look, I swear I’m not one of those people that runs up and down the street shouting “DEATH FLAG!!” at every third panel lol. but this shit screamed Death Flag when we originally got it, and it’s screaming DEATH FLAG!!! even more now. like with the capital letters and exclamation marks and all. and that’s just a fact. I don’t like it but that’s how it is

ffkdjslk

“DID YOU READ THE SIGN??!” Horikoshi asks while zooming in maniacally because he thinks we’re blind or something. lol what

-- though actually, it only just occurred to me that this sign is actually written in English. I never really paid attention up until now and had been assuming it was written in Japanese and translated by the scanlators, but the writing here is clearly part of the original image. anyway so maybe that’s why he’s zooming in?? just to make sure everybody pays attention lol

okay fuck this

see, this is the whole problem right here. once again All Might is all on his own. Deku’s self-destructive angst spiral was fortunately brought to a grinding halt because he actually has support from his friends and family and teachers and classmates. but All Might never had that same kind of support, and it’s made all the difference between the two of them, and not in a good way. Katsuki wasn’t wrong when he said All Might and Deku were both cut from the same cloth. but now when it’s All Might’s turn to go all “I WALK A LONELY ROAD~~” once again, there’s nobody in sight

just, after forty plus years of him carrying this torch, I just wish someone would finally come along to let him know he doesn’t have to. all those things that he wanted to say to Deku are also things that he needs and deserves to hear himself. Aizawa was making a little progress there, but now he’s got his sad zombie cloud boyfriend situation to deal with, and we can’t expect him and his perfect hair to solve all our problems. someone else has gotta step up

oh my god

“you rang?” never mind I take it all back sob

omg why am I laughing. shit

this man truly has the best PR game in the series. we were truly convinced he was gonna suddenly become a good guy and defend All Might against the other villains or some nonsense. as if this wasn’t the same man who decided on a whim that Iida Tensei deserved to be paralyzed, and that his fifteen-year-old brother deserved to die for daring to be upset about it

lol even All Might is all “I genuinely never saw this coming” lmao

just want to say, for the record, I have always harbored a very sensible hatred toward Stain. feeling very vindicated right now. good job Past Me

adsfklwkfsdwgkj

ffffwefjslkg. ghsdlkg. dsfkkkslkjldwkjrg

STAIN: heard you talking shit old man

ME: smh that’s what I thought you’d say you dumb fucking Stain

STAIN: how dare you talk about All Might that way

ME: gljfljgk

(ETA: in hindsight I have no idea how I didn’t clue in sooner that he didn’t recognize him -- or, well, ~didn’t recognize~ him, to be more accurate lol. I think it was the whole “is that a slight against the heroes?” thing that threw me. Viz’s translation makes it much clearer that he’s offended on behalf of All Might specifically, not heroes in general. anyways.)

sob. so All Might is all “yeah I don’t blame you for not recognizing me in this sweet leather jacket”

good thing he still knows how to do this party trick

A+ reflexes on Stain’s part presumably pulling the sword back a few inches to keep this dumbass from impaling himself with his whole pufferfish routine. can you imagine if that was the gruesome death Nighteye foresaw. and he was just too embarrassed to say anything

lol anyways guess I was wrong about Stain everyone

way to fucking go, Past Me. you really biffed this one

oh wait

Stain sure is one wacky rollercoaster ride

oh fuck me lol I forgot how much I did not miss this

(ETA: “this here is the sacred ground where All Might gave up the last of his power and turned into a shriveled old man!! please ignore the part where I admit to knowing all about that, and yet pretend not to recognize said man when he’s standing two feet in front of me.”)

Past Me, I know we’ve had our ups and downs these past ninety seconds, but I’m really starting to think you were on to something. this dude has always been kind of insufferable. always acting like his high horse is a fucking giraffe when it’s actually a Shetland pony

dammit now he’s got All Might going off on a depressed monologue

oh my god my heart

shit

why the fuck does that hit so hard. he became a hero because he couldn’t bear to just sit back and let bad things happen to people who didn’t deserve it. I mean that’s basically the same as every hero ever, right? so why does it still hit so fucking hard every single time though. what is it about seeing someone so determined to stand up for other people and fight on their behalf. it just never loses its impact no matter how many times I see that determination mirrored in so many of my favorite characters

“I wanted to make the world a better place.” omg. but you did, though. like seriously, I feel like people are always dogging on him for not being 100% perfect, and fandom really doesn’t give him enough credit for everything he still managed to accomplish. this man came of age at a time when Japan was by all accounts a total shitshow, and singlehandedly managed to bring about an era of peace that lasted for four fucking decades. can you imagine having peace for that long?? that’s longer than I’ve been alive. shit

and he gave people hope. he inspired them and protected them and made them feel safe. and no, he couldn’t save everyone, because he’s only one fucking dude (and also because the whole time AFO was also out there desperately working to undermine him so that he could keep preaching his narrative of “heroes are bad actually”). but you know what he did do, is inspire multiple new generations of heroes who, if they can all manage to work together, will finally be able to accomplish everything he never could

so yeah. forty years of peace, and inspired the “that’s how we all became the greatest heroes” generation -- that’s a fucking win in my book. talk about having a net positive impact on the world. lol anyways now I’m all fired up and ready to fight anyone who tries to talk any shit about you, All Might

“but what if I talk shit about myself” okay listen up All Might I’m gonna need you to try just a little bit harder to work with me here okay. please calm down and stop blaming yourself for every single bad thing that’s ever happened in the world. do you remember that time Bakugou was blaming himself for Kamino, and you gave him a hug and told him it wasn’t his fault, and that he was only a boy, and that even though he was strong, even strong people can struggle with the burdens they place on themselves, and that you were sorry for not seeing that earlier? do you remember all of that? that’s what I want someone to tell you too, dammit. anyway please stop breaking my heart please and thanks

wtf

are you dead All Might

um

I don’t even have the slightest idea what’s happening lol

oh snap did he grab him so they could hide??

hold the fucking phone. don’t tell me this person in the background with the umbrella is here to actually do something decent??

oh my godddd

and here come the feels. oh boy. okay don’t mind me, I’m just gonna sit here sobbing over this fictional lady and her simple act of kindness in this weekly shounen manga that I care about way too much

FUCKING DAMMIT AND HERE’S A SECOND HELPING

DON’T MIND ME, I’M JUST GETTING DISPROPORTIONATELY EMOTIONAL OVER THIS WOMAN’S DETERMINATION TO HONOR A MAN WHO SACRIFICED EVERYTHING TO SAVE HER AND COUNTLESS OTHERS. I’M JUST HAVING SOME FEELS OVER HERE ABOUT HER HEARTFELT, DOESN’T-EVEN-KNOW-ANYONE-ELSE-IS-WATCHING FEELINGS OF GRATITUDE THAT COMPELLED HER TO COME OUT HERE AND MAKE THIS SMALL BUT POWERFUL GESTURE. I’M JUST OUT HERE GETTING ALL PROFOUNDLY WORKED UP ABOUT STATUE MAINTENANCE AND THE HUMAN RACE. NEVER MIND. JUST IGNORE ME AND CARRY ON

holy shit. I was not even remotely prepared. you can’t just do that to me. you can’t just leave all these death flags on my lawn and then suddenly shift gears to show me the best of humanity in a chapter where I was expecting the worst. that fucks a person up lol

OH ARE WE STILL GOING

my heart. you see that, All Might. your legacy is so much more powerful and meaningful than you think

...has. has Stain actually been giving All Might a pep talk this entire time

I give up lol. this dude is a fucking enigma

YAYYY

it may just be a metaphor panel, but I’ll take it lol. I missed them. nice to see the traffic light trio front and off-center. I know the whole “this is the story of how we all became the greatest heroes” thing had left some questioning whether certain characters would continue to play a central role in the narrative, and hopefully this will help to ease those concerns just a bit

anyway, so idk if it’s getting a bit chilly down there in hell, but damned if Stain didn’t just give an actual decent fucking speech

I have to say, earlier when I was whining about All Might not having a support squad, I really was not expecting Stain to be the one to come over and pat his head and reassure him that he made the world a better place

-- okay LISTEN

YOU CAN’T JUST COME INTO MY HOUSE AND HIT ME WITH THOSE ALL MIGHT TEARS AGAIN GODDAMMIT THIS ISN’T FAIR. my god. first 317 and now this

holy fucking shit

“I’m just gonna pretend like I haven’t been stalking him for two days and didn’t see the entire Deku bentogate thing go down, and then I’ll give him the whole big speech that I rehearsed, and then I’ll turn around and be all ‘BUT IF YOU’RE A TRUE HERO’, and then I’ll toss him the super-secret AFO wifi password that I stole from Tartarus. god I’m such a badass. fucking give myself chills”

so basically what you’re telling me is that this whole time my “what’s up kids” characterization of Stain from this shitpost has actually been 100% accurate. just want to make sure I’m understanding this right. okay then

“and then I’ll dramatically spin around and be all NOW COME KILL ME BITCH”

it must be so much fun to write Stain. drawing this coked-out maniac who talks like a chatbot that was trained to speak by reading Alan Moore monologues. that must be a trip

anyway so All Might is still crying, the awesome lady from chapter 92 is admiring her handiwork totally oblivious to the batshit insanity going on fifty meters to her right, and it’s finally stopped raining lol

“THE RAIN WAS A METAPHOR YOU SEE” yes, yes, we got it lol. thanks for that Horikoshi. don’t think we needed any help putting the pieces together on that one but I appreciate the effort

so that’s the end! and as I mentioned in another post, I had the count off by one chapter, but next week should be cliffhanger week! so break out your U.A. Traitor bingo cards, friends and fiends. either that or something else happens that I’m completely not expecting at all. which, based on my success rate with Stain predictions, I’d say is more than likely lol

mmm but anyway, so now that the Hug Deku 2021 campaign has finally come to an end, what’s it gonna take to get a hug for my struggling bento-preparing jacket-rocking world-weary death-flag-waving husband who is the worthiest man to ever live and deserves the fucking world, goddammit

[sugar-petals]

🌹 Sub!SuperM 18+ HC: Riding Their Faces

↳ NOTE. These guys... I swear. Bringing some heat to the dash right here. Enjoy the SuperMadness 👀

word count. 3.7k | bullet points | ot7

WARNINGS. ⚠️  all explicit, cum play, latex, hair & sweat kink, bondage, spit, brat taming, toys, breath play, ass fixation going strong, dominant reader, femdom, degradation, hardcore, veins kink, graphic language, strap-ons, crying kink, clothed sex, some crack

⌜ 💋  byun baekhyun ⌟

▸ strength: energy

not for the faint of heart. baekhyun thoroughly enjoys you giving it to him roughly; it’s the leader being led, how sexy is that

i spy with my femdom eye, baekhyun likes the bossy dommes who bring him to his knees — quite literally.

case in point: hates seeing you hold back. tells you to just bounce on him how you want it. no fumbling around, it’s gotta be hot and proper.

whatever you’re insecure about he hasn’t even noticed. the more confidently you’re taking your designated seat, the better. this shit’s gotta make him all loud and squeaky, baekhyun can’t get enough of your wild and demanding side. “don’t you dare move your hands!” — he’s already hooked.

yep, he’s part of the feral squad. and louder than the bass in jopping for that matter

small as hell face but the jaw is sharp, you can literally feel it, he fits between your legs so well

endless breath. put your pussy all over that nose, grind on it, cum all over him. society will thank you for suffocating a millionaire

like seriously the breath play is off the charts. if he’s into asphyxiation you’d not be surprised

meanwile baek’s naughty hips keep on bucking, like hello there, giving you a cheeky 69 invitation

such a cocky little shit, whiny byun all the way from those ruined orgasms he’ll be getting cuz you might just touch him with two fingers at best, you know how to keep him on his toes

swallows everything he’s like whatever, almost chokes because he’s so messy and greedy to taste you. damn baekhyun

does a “mmhhhnnn...!” sound all the time, this guy has pussy all over his face and is still more vocal than you no matter what you do

eats ass, all day if he can, knows the most shocking techniques, wants to get crushed by booty he’ll end up admitting it. no matter how big or small yours is. because remember, that face is small, everything is big to him

the type to cum on his stomach way before you do. groans a lot, then goes on even more intensely, how the hell did he just leak out five ounces of semen and still manage a whole tongue workout

slobbery and all over the place, those are tongue movements you can’t even think of in your wildest dreams

baekhyun is never content just making you cum once or just really lowkey, much less hearing you being silent. he’s a moodmaker, he naturally wants to hear you, and see you twitch like the world ends for goodness sake

brattiest tongue ever, always pulls out the taunting puppy licks, tries to grope you all the time, he’ll get a rough spanking later believe me

also gets his payback from you being crazy wet, as beautiful and cute his face might be it’s gonna end up damn ruined

not gonna lie his voice acrobatics will turn you into a waterfall that’s coming down on him

you can punish him for teasing by going raw with your hips, mochi is in wonderland, seeing stars. put his wrists in a spreader bar and go off is what i’m saying, YOLO

since baekhyun annoys the members by being so hyper in the evening, they appreciate you knocking him out for sleep. and indeed baekhyun dozes like a baby, probably using your ass as a pillow or something

you’ve drained the shit out of him and um watered the flower that is his face, so

another cupcake down, mission success, baekhyun certainly had his fill not to mention lucky you having to deal with his wildly talented mouth ahem, moral of the story annihilate him with your ass

⌜ 💋  lee taemin ⌟

▸ strength: steaminess

you will come (heh) to discover that none of his lyrics were a lie

yeah he’s busy hot boy shit for his gal

taemin has an all-soft and plush tongue that’s super pinkish. it literally feels so good, how to ever get enough of it holy shit

it also happens to be very long so buckle up, he wants to be deep inside of you, serve and please you

probably the most slow and agile movement in the group, tantalizing is the right word for sure

prefers kissing and sucking over just licking because he’s sappy, good on him and good on you those lips are heaven and need to be used by all means

once you go on the pill, taemin will eat his own creampies straight out of you, maybe even two at once, it’s taemin c’mon he’s above-average horny lord knows how much sperm he’s hoarding

loves drowning it seems

raunchy stuff aside, he always dresses up nicely or wears the fluffy sweaters you like the most on him. what an exclusive ride, the scent of the clothing turns you on even more he’s pulling all the registers taemin is so docile and giggly

most sensual style in the group, will edge and give you goosebumps first before the main course even remotely goes down, taemin thinks in several stages hot damn he calculated this 

his face heats up so much it’s crazy, then again kkoongie capitalizes on all the warmth from the radiator so you might as well be taemin’s personal heating alright. it’s fun seeing him sweat like mad, see his neck veins bulge... ugh 

is gonna be a provocateur and try to nibble on your folds, man he just wants to get slapped around you can see right through this brat’s rowdy plan

might even want his ass played with while you ride his face so prepare for some intense contortions, fingering, butt plugs, prostate massage, the whole array, gladly taemin is flexible

always pulls it off hands-free because he’s a pro and well yeah he’s always tied up how um totally surprising

and any challenge he will meet that i guarantee you

he has immediately apparent shinee concert stamina, longevity like his career, taemin can lend his face to your purposes for the whole night he doesn’t care if he needs to chuck it in the freezer afterwards

bonus: if taemin doesn’t at some point wear one of his glittery masks for sexy time, somebody is probably impersonating him and it’s not the real lee taemin i’m afraid

so many orgasms you’ll stop counting, one blends into the other, even if you’re not moving much, how does he do it

that being said gee can we just appreciate how beautiful his face is, everything about him, it’s gonna be so sexy and soft to kiss him to sleep oh my god

⌜ 💋  kim jongin ⌟

▸ strength: escalating

just how industrious is he? dammit kai is the rent due or something, this shit is not a comeback stage cool down

jongin is needy as fuck, he’s desperate to taste you especially in the morning when his lips are all plump

since then he’s skipped his skin care routine you do the bulk of the moisturizing you see

jokes aside get ready for whimpery kai thrusting his face right into you because he can, should you need something to hold onto, his thighs are literally right there

constant high-pitched moans, some during quick pauses, others stifled, kai are you okay he’s really going all out 

so thirsty

if you don’t put a harness on him for this you’re missing out, also you need something to hold this wild slutty motherfucker in place

rock-hard throughout, harder than a goddamn superm choreography

also: sturdy chin that can take a lot, it’s made to be sat on

does a lot of the work, very active, main dancer vibes you know, you can be lazy and just enjoy

most continuous style in the group, gradually getting more and more passionate and nervous — the second you thought it gets boring he goes off, have fun losing your mind and seeing him basically K.O. himself

if he wants to make you cum, rapid tongue jabs deep into your clit, and his hard breath against it, no fair play in here

absolutely has a thing for your shaking thighs, like what the hell he’s blowing a huge load the more you tremble, and he’s goddamn crying from pleasure every time woah

those big ole lips are an absolute treat, yeah i’ll say it again his face is meant for this

wants to be called all kinds of names wow jongin, it just spurs him more

kai. is. so. good. 

you can most definitely film your own POV cam, jongin can put on one hell of a show. just this time it’s not his eyes flirting with the camera, it’s his tongue getting a nice rough treatment oh yum

don’t get me wrong he can deliver a romantic version of this, but kai just likes you being tough on his face he can’t deny it

uses his hands so you can ride him even harder, all his teddy bears will be falling off the bed like dominoes

might one day ascend to heaven while giving head, wouldn’t regret it

can do it until complete exhaustion you guys just pass out

being such an oral workaholic do i sense a masochist streak in him there? 

fucking typical capricorn

⌜ 💋  wong yukhei ⌟

▸ strength: appetite

first off yukhei is hilarious

it’s called eating out and that’s exactly what he does duh, he’s not nicknamed foodcas for no reason — the restaurant is open my dear, and he just served himself five courses (you)

gets super sweaty, forehead and down the neck, a 6′0 glazed bun can you imagine

giggles a lot, makes the atmosphere relaxed, loves banter before and after, an allround sweet experience

though beware, this guy is hungry. most prone to open his mouth super wide he wants to eat all of you at once

don’t tell kun how nasty he is, much less leader baekhyun, promise me that

and especially nosy kai should not hear about what sexy shit yukhei is doing in his freetime unless you want to trigger a war 

that being said the wayv dorm is still the safest place to sit on his face, so. it’s a lawless land there, nobody gives a fuck anymore at this point. yangyang would not even blink if ten murdered someone in cold blood on the balcony, that’s how the atmosphere there can be best described

lucas being a far more harmless himbo still ironically fits into the environment being so sexually insatiable, just how often are you going to fuck? it’s only natural to lose the overview

he loudly pouts and complains when it ends, wants to go on and on, you need a lotta stamina to get with this guy this is not a warning it’s a fact — yukhei really wants to tire himself out and give everything

if you lower your thighs just a little you can feel his dangly earrings. kinda sexy but also a safety concern i know i know, he’s not gonna wear them next time 

noisy as heck, wants to do well, always goes the extra mile to be sure you are all happy and satisfied with today’s dining

his tongue is... big...

we’re not gonna talk about that giant bulge either, such a huge tent in those pants it’s a whole camping ground. anyway

what we’ll talk about. his super soft blonde hair, we’re talking salon quality soft, that’s amazing to feel against your legs, it’s great to pull as well, or to twirl really playfully

though there’s not much playful going down when the initial inhibition drops

he’s not made of glass you can really get those hips going

sliding down his nose when you’re all wet... damn good stuff.

lucas is the kinda guy that has you grunting and gritting he loves your reactions, and how aggressive you can get. usually he’s the reaction king but like this? he can get used to it.

totally into having that kinda frog perspective it’s a whole new thing, he’s such a giant now he’s below you, the sight is just superb to him

less likely to have toys involved, but rather a bunch of rope for his chest, his arms, his long ass legs. yukhei is a bondage insider tip y’all

stable as a block of metal. if you go a little too wild on baekhyun he’s probably gonna break his mochi neck but lucas is a different calibre, this mf is made of giant muscles galore, i can only say one thing: finish him

⌜ 💋  mark lee ⌟

▸ strength: speed

talks a lot, even occasionally curses — instantly apologizing, but you curse right back, so this becomes the cussing olympics at some point, taeyong would bury his face in the ground all his parenting efforts have gone to waste

mark basically chokes himself

he can’t control his spit by all means jesus... in his own words: must be the drip then

next to taemin and baekhyun here we have the third drowning victim, mark is in serious need of multiple tissues or towels afterwards but that’s exactly what he likes

mark’s slutty side is not to be underestimated i’m warning you

that’s a healthy young man right here

loves to do quickies to get you off during daytime, if you’re horny just tell him and he’ll find a quiet spot, might do it on his knees rather than you riding him sometimes for practical reasons 

all options open, mark is flexible af. if someone can promote with nct dream and superm at the same time that’s the result

so yeah you’ll experiment with positions and even outfits, what’s the most comfortable to wear? 

few people even remotely think about this. mark himself stays in his signature sweater but the glasses come off, you know very well he’s a nerd without them he has nothing to prove lmao!

the clothes will be cozy but don’t let that fool you yet alright

this guy has watched too much porn to just keep it light and cute

don’t get me wrong you can baby him ad nauseam for the more gentle femdom moods

but at the end of the day mark loves some intense shit, he likes feisty girls who aren’t coy and subby, the more perverted you are the better, in fact he enjoys being shocked with brazen attitude and getting orders on what to do.

loves it when you to take it all out on him, rough is good. mark lee’s face is the rodeo range of super m alright, just don’t break his glorious jaw or anything, he still needs it okay

but yeah mark’s face is tempting to ride hard not gonna lie

his tongue can go so fast it’s at the speed of sound, no, the speed of fucking light. mark goes crazy on your clit, wait a few seconds, boom five orgasms rain down on you. 

it’s like an anime swordsman just lifting the sword hilt, walking off calmly, and one minute later things are in shambles like how? mark’s sword tech is just epic like that

he’s a leo what did we expect, show-off

in the meantime, RIP to mark lee’s pants. they’ll be soaked with cum, gonna be a bitch to hide your clothes from taeyong who’s always eager to wash everything by himself

that aside, mark really enjoys the position, he doesn’t need much else to be honest, he goes “oh my god oh shit” enough for you to know

thank god he’s a rapper, otherwise his dang technique would be dangerous, he doesn’t breathe for half a minute or so

enjoys you really doing shallow thrusts, super fast and sloppy, loves how much you enjoy it

needless to say: breaks a guinness world record for most licks per second, it’s that mark lee flow

long story short his face is your favorite spot he can prepare for a daily session

all that practice on water melons paid off good job markly

⌜ 💋  ten lee ⌟

▸ strength: allround skill

you know a pro by how he’s offering you a tall glass of water beforehand

and by the way he’s chugging one himself

champion, a keeper

you’re guaranteed to love it, ten is amazing

takes his time, gets to know your every inch, figures out your soft spots in a matter of minutes to seconds

everything for his sexy mama, service sub right here

take him on a leash, grind on his lips, make him kiss your clit, he’ll respond by circling his tongue around obediently

chittaphon might be a little fidgety at the beginning, but the atmosphere is not as tense anymore after doing it two or three times. 

ten is actually quite good cracking lighthearted jokes and showing his more extroverted side, he always gets like that with a partner. 

you have an easy time with build-up conversations and communicating in general, same with aftercare pillow talk

that being said the degree of professionalism this guy is heading for needs a lot of talk in the first place. 

ten likes doing advanced things that aren’t just intuitively understood, you need to exchange yourself a lot

through trial and error you figure out how to incorporate sex toys into the little routine you have going on

the pleasure will be so intense you’ll never want anything else fuck

ten is also down for a lot of moving around, some athletic shit

you’ll go from bouncing on his dick to smothering his face back and forth pretty much, let’s see how fast you’re gonna bust a huge nut like that my bet is five minutes

those like “oh... ah—” moans are just angelic

since he focuses so much on your erogenous zones and always keeps his hands involved, ten is always guaranteed to have you breaking a major sweat

ten does not like to eat any fruits, they say. well that’s true, because he’s too busy eating you that is. boy can basically retire from citizenhood, he’s that busy between your legs. 

enough fruit juice for an entire week impending, don’t worry about his nutrients, this is also a form of diet.

uses his chin, his cheeks, the nose especially, the damn nose it’s perfectly shaped

wants you to really ride him hard, and fast, no holds barred at all, going so feral he’ll be squeezing his eyes shut

sometimes his hair gets in the way, it’s just so damn long. the result: hair ties for face-sitting, always on his wrist

among all members, buries his face the deepest, turns him on so much

always makes sure you’re both washed up, no impromptu sessions. ten is a hygiene priest and he’s right

the mattress is kinda bouncy and he always uses his favorite soft pillow under his head so you can definitely take mister ten lee to pound town like work your hips give it to him

in case he survives i send my congrats, you got yourself the right guy, terrific choice queen

⌜ 💋  lee taeyong ⌟

▸ strength: ideas

how much more religiously can he eat you out, he treats this like the best reward he can get

as you can probably tell by now, all the lee surname members are definitely a certain brand and clan of highly distinguished pussy eaters like, these guys are a fucking gang like... well taeyong is no different

reckless abandon oral, eats you like it’s the last day, even death fears lee taeyong when he’s in giving head mode

you might be showering together beforehand and be all shy and kissy like it’s puppy love. but that is all for naught when the tongue of god is unleashed and taeyong gets himself as messed up as he can

yeah i like the thought of god being incarnated as kinky taeyong begging to have his mouth spit and cummed in it just makes sense

very deep mumbles, very hard breathing, those veiny hands on your waist, he wants to make you feel good so bad, fuck he’s so sexy

intense facial expressions, need i say more

also um... he likes to be... threatened. he’s the student you’re the teacher, strict as hell surveying his every move, the more you yell at him the harder he gets, jesus christ he has a thing for you acting mad and shit

taeyong doesn’t even need you to pull off your underwear, he’s gone get through any type of fabric with that leaking mouth

let’s just say he likes to experiment with innovative techniques... anyway, taeyong is a nasty fucking freak, he’s a grade A hoe, you never know what to expect

one time he just licks like a shy doe, the next second slurping explosion 5000

imagine whipping his thighs with a riding crop while sitting right on that ultra gorgeous elven prince face like

taeyong is almost always getting super emotional. he sheds even more tears than kai, like at some point you’ll develop a crying kink because of him SOS

nervous as hell, shaky hands. that can easily be fixed sir let’s tie em up

has you moaning nonstop, he’s so engaged and so dead-on with his movements. don’t be surprised if this damned man has your eyes almost falling out

beware, this guy is into full-on sensual deprivation as well. blindfolds are only the start. 

you might end up with a whole lotta black latex involved, who knows, a whole gimp on him he’s down for that, he learned from ten what it is blame chittaphon’s vast kinky knowledge

even better: while you’re grinding on him, taeyong likes you pumping his cock with a fleshlight with zero mercy until he yelps in tiny oops

hell he might ask you to roughly fuck his face with a strap and then ride it, the mister likes double treats huh

then again: wants it to be degrading and dirty and intense on some days, and really wholesome and romantic on others

especially aftercare will be sweet and dulcet, you take care of him, pepper him with kisses for being such a dutiful boy.

looks pretty no matter what. maybe he’s born with it maybe it’s tyongbelline. yeah just how handsome is that face and hair like... t’yongreal paris in full splendor

long story short he’s an oral deity. i rest my case howdy and goodbye see you next time aye

superm masterlist

© submissive-bangtan 2017-2021. all rights reserved. do not repost or translate. all depictions fictional.

[arguablysomaya]

not to bother you but do you by any chance have any more batfam fic recs? i read all the ones you recommended already and now im starved for content lmao

np lmao i have prepared for this

Just a friendly kidnapping by @Ceciliedr 

Jason decides drastic measures are in order, when his workaholic little brother refuses to take a day off. Tim is going on vacation whether he wants to or not.

As always the bat’s antics confuse the hell out of the team. Especially since Red Hood is officially a highly dangerous wanted criminal.

cryptid bats are such a good trope 

And the Scene Slips Away (To the Evenness I Fake) by @ Kirazalea

One mistake is all it took to force Jason back into the wonderful world of the Wayne family. Now publicly and legally alive once more, he's forced to spend the next two weeks of his life stuck in the Manor with the whole family. This leads to several strengthened relationships and the realization that maybe he's missed a few things over the years. Things that he's now determined to get to the bottom of.

Also known as the "Tim comes out to his family, the public finds out Jason Todd is actually alive, Jason finds out about Mirage and Tarantula, and they all are confronted with the fact that dealing with public relations as millionaire superheroes is actually The Worst (though not necessarily in that order)" Frankenstein of a fic that nobody asked for but I'm giving you anyways

*insert crying noises* this bad boy can fit so much emotion in it

American Ninja Worrier by @DangerBeckett

It's just like Tim to give a poor college student a start in the business world. Kid's a bleeding heart, and usually, that's the sort of thing Jason avoids at all costs. He prefers his bleeding hearts on the literal side, and despite Bruce's best efforts, he's never had a head for business.

Unfortunately, though, this time the business is ninjas, and that's the sort of thing that makes Jason take notice. Because Bruce is useless, and someone's gotta make sure Tim's new internship program doesn't take down all of Gotham.

That's Jason's job, after all.

most accurate tim drake i’ve ever read, added bonus of being fucking hilarious

the art of turning a bed into a home by @ anaksemuabangsa 

“We’ll feel better if we sleep in the same place,” Dick reasons, shifting the blankets and piling them on top of a stiff Tim. “When I was smaller, every time Bruce caught me having a nightmare, he used to stay with me until I fell asleep again,” he continues.

In which Bruce's kids develop a habit fit for princes and princesses.

(Somebody get them to sleep, please.)

the whole good habits series is pog asf but this one is my personal favorite. it’s so fluffy ;-;

“Get out of my room.” by @damthosefandoms

Dick likes to mess with his little brother. Jason enjoys being a little shit to his older brother. Everyone always says they’ll get along when they get older. They’re not so sure about that.

hands down the most realistic sibling relationship i’ve ever seen. fulfills my headcanon that dick and jason are just like me and my little brother. Also check out Older SIblings: A Plague on Our Society by the same author bc LMAO

Young Justice Visit the Suez Canal by @charleswaterloo 

There is an enormous container ship called the Ever Given stuck in the Suez Canal. Young Justice is on the case. During their short adventure, they also: make a massive sand sculpture, enjoy some fanfiction and unblock the Suez Canal. Not in that order. * ‘I am thinking,’ Tim said, with extreme calm, ‘That you have made something that looks like a very large penis when viewed from above.’

‘It’s a dick and balls, yeah.’ Bart said without embarrassment. ‘It’s poetic! I’m ending the journey like it started.’ * ‘Did you -’ Dick began, laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe. ‘Did you really tell him to at least “make the shaft bigger”? Bart told Wally and he told me but I have to know if it’s true, Tim. My life depends on it.’

you remember that boat that ended capitalism for like a week? yeah.

contagious by @Valkirin 

In a happier Gotham where Robin insisted on bringing his new brother Jason home from patrol, the second Robin is dosed with Poison Ivy's cuddle pollen and finds their personal photographer.

an alternate take on tim joining the family that is much more happy

Whatever it is that brothers do by @ididloveyou_once

Jason’s fairly certain his evening plans hadn’t included playing nursemaid for a reckless, self-sacrificing and frustratingly stubborn vigilante. Not to mention that said vigilante was his dumb fucking brother.

Or: Nightwing is badly injured and Hood’s the only one around to help.

*melty noises* they care about each other...........

Way Down, Hadestown

In which Damian's dead and Tim has lost one too many people to accept that.

Platonic Orpheus-Eurydice not-AU set after Damian's canonical death (that I am still deeply bitter about). Likely throws Wonder Woman canon right out of the window.

*melty noises intensity* THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER TO THE FUCKING GRAVE also the lore is cool as hell in this one

the entire Grade School series by KagSesshlove

Imagine that Damian goes to a regular school full time. And has to do things that normal grade-schoolers have to do. This is his life now: pretending to be a normal 10 year old at school all for the sake of the public. But, honestly, the public would rather he not.

fucking hilarious series, i especially like My Family by Damian Wayne

i have so many more LMAO 

[fruitcoops]

Hey Eve how are you doing I hope you're having a good day. Could you possibly if you want to make a fic like after the disownment fic and there's an interview with Sirius, Remus or (or the lions) on how they felt and there reactions and stuff only if you want to ofc I hope you are having a good day

This isn't a social media fic, but it does include include this prompt and was combined with an ask for Sirius having a hard time in the wake of a breakdown because he was doing so well before. Please pay attention to the TWs and let me know if I missed any. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

TW child abuse (past), angst, past trauma, mentions of going to therapy, and feeling overwhelmed

The studio cameras hadn’t seemed scary in a long, long time. Sirius stared at the white floor, toying with his ring and trying not to run screaming from the building; this is for them, he reminded himself. For everyone like me who never had someone speak up for them. The metal folding chair was cold under him.

“Sirius?” There was no hint of teasing in Marlene’s voice. “Are you ready?”

He had already saved himself and Regulus. Now it was time for the rest of them. “Oui.”

“Rolling in three, two, one…”

“My name is Sirius Black,” he said, channeling all the strength and control he could manage into his voice as he straightened up. “I’m 27 years old, the center and captain for the Gryffindor Lions hockey team, and a Stanley Cup champion.” He took a breath. “And I grew up in an abusive home. Last week, my biological parents officially disowned me for refusing to go back into the closet and under their control. It wasn’t dramatic. There was no media present. There was a lot of paperwork.

“But I’m not here to talk about that.” He swallowed, and felt some of his confidence return. Behind the camera, Marlene gave him an encouraging look with a shine in her eyes. “I’m here to talk to everyone else in my situation and let you know that you’re not alone. You can get out of there, and you can be the freest version of yourself. For the next month, 1/12 of all proceeds from Lions tickets will go to charities supporting abuse survivors and those currently living in abusive situations. My story is not the only one. We can make a difference.”

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

Sirius laid on his back on the lobby couch, letting “Radio Gaga” thump in his ears and drown out the tremors in his body. He had never said it publicly before—as far as the rest of the hockey world knew, his family was only rumored to be strict. He had been hesitant to do the video at first despite the tsunami of questions flooding their social media, and it wasn’t until Marlene suggested the charity aspect that he agreed.

Sirius didn’t like press. He liked it even less when it was poking around in his past, and when he had to support it.

The song ended and he paused the music, listening to his own breathing and steady pulse. You’re okay. You’re done. You made it through. He didn’t feel okay.

“—proud of him,” someone was saying inside the studio. Remus. “It was a complicated and painful thing to work through, but he never wavered from what he wanted and what was best for him.”

Six of his other teammates would speak, supporting the charity with a quick mention of their own feelings in case any assholes on the internet got bright ideas about speaking for them and their feelings on Sirius’ disownment. It was insane what people thought they found by digging through interviews.

“Hey, baby.” Sirius opened his eyes; above him, Remus was leaning over the armrest of the couch with a tired smile. He kissed Sirius’ forehead, then his nose, then his lips. “Ready to go home?”

“Don’t we have to stay until the end?”

“Marlene said she had everything she needed from us.”

Sirius blew out a slow breath and stood, wrapping his arms around Remus on instinct. “This feels like it’s going to go badly.”

“I don’t think it will,” Remus said quietly, rubbing up and down his spine. “I think it’s going to help a lot of people, and I hope it means we stop getting nosy comments now that you’ve answered the big questions and made it clear that’s the end.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

They walked to the car in relative silence, hand-in-hand; Remus took the keys without a word, and relief washed over Sirius in a cool breeze. He didn’t feel grounded enough to drive safely. At the moment, he wasn’t sure he ever would. The whole world was hazy outside the passenger window, blurring the city he loved so much into smudges of colors—Remus was a presence next to him, but what Sirius wanted more than anything was some hot chocolate and a long, long nap.

“I don’t feel good,” he said, hardly above a whisper.

Remus glanced at him out of the corner of his eye as he drove. “Do I need to pull over?”

“No, I just…” He sighed. “I thought I would feel better after getting this off my chest and helping people. I feel bad.”

“Can you eat?” He nodded. “I’ll make some soup when we get home if you want to lay down for a bit.”

Sirius’ eyes burned. “Sounds good.”

“Hey, baby, it’s okay,” Remus soothed, reaching one hand down to close around the one Sirius kept on his thigh as Sirius sniffled and shook with the effort of keeping in his tears. “It’s okay. You can call Marlene and ask her not to publish the video. That’s in your rights, you don’t have to—”

“No,” Sirius choked out, wiping his tears away with the back of his wrist. “It has to happen. People have to know that they can help. I—I just—I don’t know how to feel and so everything is happening at once.”

Nobody had taught Sirius how to handle Feelings-with-a-capital-f until Dumo; suddenly, he felt like all that hard work was being undone in one fell swoop. He kept ahold of Remus’ hand and let the tears slide down his cheeks as he breathed through it, keeping both feet firmly planted in some semblance of control. Remus parked the car and turned to him without unbuckling his seatbelt. “Do you want to go inside, or should we drive for a bit?”

“I really want to go to bed.”

“How can I help?” Remus laced their fingers together again and Sirius squeezed his eyes shut. “You really don’t seem alright, love.”

“I’m not, and I don’t know how to fix it.” The words were broken glass in his throat. “I was doing so good. I don’t know how to go back.”

“Oh, baby,” Remus murmured, taking his seatbelt off to kiss Sirius’ temple. “Let’s go inside, yeah? You’ll be more comfortable there.”

Sirius nodded mutely, still pressing his lips together to stifle any sounds that tried to come out. It always seemed like when he started to cry, he couldn’t stop—whether that was a function of never crying for the majority of his life, he didn’t know, but it always felt horrible. No mistakes, his mother had told him. The video felt like a mistake. Still, he knew he couldn’t ask them to take it down. There were people that needed help, and he couldn’t let his childhood hide in the shadows anymore.

Remus turned as if to hug him when the door closed behind them, but Sirius slipped past and headed straight for the stairs. Sweatpants, hoodie, soup, blanket, talk. Talk, talk, talk until you can’t stop. Then sleep. He heard Remus moving around in the kitchen as he stripped down and dug his softest sweatpants out of the drawer, followed by Remus’ most worn-down and oversized Wisconsin hoodie that he always wore when he didn’t feel well. Sirius buried his nose in the neckline and inhaled deeply; the familiar scent soothed the rush of blood in his ears.

He didn’t bother with socks and made a beeline for the couch, wrapping himself in the afghan blanket one of Hope’s friends had crocheted for their wedding. Hope had kept it in the Lupin house so she wouldn’t forget to bring it with her, and it smelled like them, too. It smelled like safety and a happy house and healthy childhoods.

Another tear slipped out when Remus set down some water and the soup—Campbell’s chicken noodle, can’t go wrong—and Sirius curled up against the armrest to make room. “I need to talk to you,” he said. “I need to talk to you.”

The cushions dipped as Remus sat next to him and crossed his legs. “About what?”

“Everything.” His voice broke. “The way I grew up, everything about it. I—Re, I never lied to you, I promise. I just didn’t talk about it because I didn’t want to scare you, but I have to be honest with you.”

“…alright.”

Sirius took a shaky breath; his mouth was dry, and salty at the edges. “My parents—my parents hit me when I wasn’t good enough, and nothing was ever good enough unless I could do it again, and again, and again—”

“Sirius—”

“—and I thought everyone on my team didn’t get dinner if they didn’t get a goal and—”

“Stop—”

“—and Regulus and I, it was like we couldn’t breathe in that house with them scripting every move—”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand covered his mouth and Sirius closed his eyes as a sob ripped free, but didn’t fight it. “Sirius, stop, please.”

“I have to tell you,” he said hoarsely, trembling from head to toe. “I have to be honest with you.”

“I love you, and I’m glad you can talk to me, but I’m not the person you have to tell.” Remus’ voice was thick with tears. “Being honest with me doesn’t mean telling me every detail, please, please don’t do that.”

“I couldn’t make mistakes,” he blubbered, leaning into Remus. “What kind of fucking freak tells a child they can’t make mistakes?”

Remus shushed him softly, running a hand through the hair at the nape of his neck as he went boneless into Remus’ chest. He could feel the hitching breaths under his face and regret reared up, but he felt so empty. There was so much more he could tell Remus and nothing he could say. “I love you,” Remus began, sniffling slightly. “I love you so much, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Because I love you, I’m going to tell you that I am not the person you need to tell all this to right now. You should talk to someone who knows how to help, like Heather.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius whispered.

“No, I understand.” A kiss pressed against the top of his head. “And I’m not upset at you. Both our emotions are running really high. I just—this isn’t blaming you or to make you feel bad, but it hurts to hear all the horrible things that happened to you. I already wish I could have stopped it before it happened, but hearing you say it is a lot worse than thinking about it and I wasn’t ready to hear everything.”

“That’s not everything.”

“I know.” Remus’ voice cracked. “I know, and that’s the worst part. This video was a bad idea, I should call—”

“No, no, don’t do that.” Sirius caught his wrist as he reached for the phone. “The video isn’t the problem. It will help people. It’s just hard for me to talk about it without getting overwhelmed.”

Remus hesitated, but left the phone alone and hugged Sirius close again. “I’m here.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not gonna leave.” His chest rose and fell. “But—but if you need to tell me things, not just today, please give me fair warning first.”

“I will,” Sirius promised. They sat quietly for a moment before he sat up and pulled the soup bowl into his lap, letting the steam roll over his face. “Mon dieu, I was doing so good before this. It’s been the best two years and now…”

“Now it’s going to be better,” Remus filled in when he trailed off. A slender hand tucked his hair behind his ear. “It’s going to be better, Sirius. For you, and for lots of other people that you’re helping. But this is the hard part.”

“This is the really, really hard part,” he agreed, taking a sip of broth. It was the perfect temperature. “Thank you.”

“It’s just soup.”

“No, for everything. Everything you’ve done for me.” he rested his head on Remus’ shoulder, then left a lingering kiss on his cheek. “I love you more than I can say.”

A wry smile tilted the side of Remus’ mouth up. “In English or French?”

“Both,” Sirius half-laughed. “Both, I promise. I’m going to finish this, and then can we take a nap?”

“That sounds perfect. Make sure to drink your water, too.”

It would not be an easy evening, or an easy night, or an easy anything when the video came out. But he would work through it, and he would remember what he had learned from his family and his friends to move past the roadblocks his childhood always created. He would call Regulus, they would cry together, and they would be okay. He would be okay.

[testingcheats0n]

Massive Dream SMP Fic Rec!!

Hey- Hi, I just feel like there are a ton of fanfiction that's really underrated in this fandom- so I'm going to dump it on your dash!!! Most of it is going to be Tommy-centric or SBI-centric, but they are very good!

Source: Me

Finished Fanfics:

Multi-chaptered Fanfics:

that's, like, a hundred miles by No_one_you_know

Dream would kill him. Dream was going to kill him- he was going to- no, he wouldn’t. Dream was his friend- friends don’t hit each other- Dream was supposed to take care of him- Dream /was/ taking care of him.

It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. He couldn’t clear his thoughts as he stumbled to the family computer, pulling up a tab on google and frantically typing the name into the search bar.

The words Technoblade Watson stared back at him, the little black bar at the end of the letters blinking slowly, mocking him.

Why, of all people, did it have to be Technoblade?

in short: the one where dream sucks as a parental figure, tommy runs away, and visits his least favorite family member technoblade

Hard-hitting, but has a happy ending, though I recommend reading the prequel (in the same series) first, otherwise, it's lowkey depressing.

MORE RECOMMENDATIONS BELOW THE CUT!!

you’ll rise above (crowned by an overture bold and beyond) by azvremoon

Tommy is not sixteen. He has faced too many open wounds, dripping ichor onto blood-stained warzones, to be just a child. He is Blood and War and needless Death, an all-in-one special of everything that can ruin reality.

(Tommy is the blood god. No one should know, but this server can't stop pushing him over the edge.)

+2 more Works that were Inspired by this one

Tommy is a BAMF and Dream, Technblade, and Phil get fucked it is what it is.

Responsible Forever by SilverWing15

“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.” /////

“So,” Techoblade says, slow and deliberate, his face shows clearly just how unbelievable he finds all of this, “you saw a boy last night, in the middle of the night, living with raccoons and eating our garbage?”

“I know how insane it sounds,” Phil says, “but I know what I saw. We need to help him, who knows how long he’s been out here?”

“Okay,” Wilbur interrupts, “let’s say that raccoon-boy is real. What is it you want us to do? We can’t go searching the woods for specific bunch of raccoons, I don’t know if you’ve noticed Phil but there are a lot of them out there.”

“Going out and hunting him isn’t going to get us anywhere,” Techno says, “we have to let the raccoon-boy come to us. He’s already come once, you know how tenacious raccoons are. If they came to the garbage pit once, they’ll come again. We just have to set a trap.”

“Those raccoons aren’t gonna know what fucking hit them,” Wilbur mutters.

Or: RaccoonInnit taken well beyond its logical conclusion

Tommyinnit is a Raccoon boi that lives with other Raccoons

Protecting the Traumatised Youth by spookyserpent

Sam blinks. “What?”

Even behind the mask, Sam has the distinct impression that Dream is grinning at him. “A week and he was begging for my attention, even after I stole and burnt his armour, even after the beatings. He couldn’t stand me leaving him because I was the only one to show up, to pay him attention. It was hilarious.”

Sam is going to be sick.

Or, Sam decides to ask Dream about his intentions and ends up becoming a big brother to Tommy and Tubbo. All the while, Dream and George fight, Niki and Jack plan child murder and Ranboo is slowly getting adopted into the SBI.

Awesamdad written back when it was possible... ahhh

Chaos In a Bottle by Lovetribable

After a realization, Tommy leaves the pillar, but instead of going to Techno. He just disappears, leaving everyone to think he's gone.

It takes a war to bring him back.

+2 Sequels and an Alternative Ending

Dadinnit!! + A Sympathetic Dream

Absolutely Anything For Them by Numanum

“There’s a lot you don’t understand, Tubbo,” Dream sighs, meeting his eyes cooly. Tubbo, back against a tree, shudders at his tone, at the look on his face.

The sword at his neck skims across his skin as Dream shifts his grip on it, and he flinches back into the rough bark behind him. Dream smiles at his reaction, seeming pleased- like the cat that’s been toying with a mouse that always tries to run no matter how many times it’s caught. And, despite this being his first encounter alone with the man, he thinks that the comparison is fairly accurate; Tubbo has never felt smaller than he does now. There’s supposed to be a buddy system to prevent things like this- he shouldn’t be alone here, stuck in this situation.

Or: Tubbo becomes a traitor to save everyone and has to struggle with his choices

Traitor Tubbo, but it has the happiest ending possible since it follows the rest of the story.

Where Did You Come From, Kit? by KadeAK (zacixn)

Hybrids are an ancient species of humans crossed with animals, blessed with the favour of nature. They used to live in peace on the SMP’s land, but ever since the dawn of humanity’s modern culture, they have become ostracised and hunted by their once-brethren. Now, the once-thriving subspecies of hybrids have been reduced to ashes, the majority of their peoples struggling to survive in a city capital that can't stand their presence.

To the members of L’Manburg, General Wilbur Soot is just another mildly prejudiced human being, stuck with a hybrid fox kit for an adopted child. However, that assumption could not be farther from the truth. As it turns out, there's a reason why he is the man he is today.

This fic is entirely pre-L’Manburg.

Part of a series, very good.

Take It Easy by sweet_magnolias

Five times Techno scared Michael, one time Michael scared him, and the resolution of those fears.

AKA - Techno learns how to be an uncle.

Technoblade's POV, so expect some Tubbo bashing on the margins of all that Michael fluff.

I suppose it’s never my time to die, is it? by Birb_Whale

The first time it happens, he barely remembers. The second time is when he realized. The third... Twice is a coincidence, three times is a pattern

“It’s not your time to die yet, Tommy”

Messed up, but not unrealistic. Purely for the Hurt/Comfort lovers.

This Wasn't Planned, But It'll Work Out by Anonymous

Dream isn't sure what to think when he finds a kid on his doorstep, but he can't just leave him there, now can he?

(He doesn't know what he's getting into, or what he's gotten the kid into, either)

Long, and angsty, with a bittersweet ending Imo.

let's play a game by Aria_Cinabun

Tommy was once a slave. That's gone now - shoved in his past with the memories of blood and gore and death. He wants to forget who he was; what he has to do to survive. Of course, the Elementalists will always come back to haunt him. They aren't the ones who killed his mother, but they're close enough. And now he and his brother have been dragged into the mess, as Elementalists with their own, separate covens, to find the Pit - the place where he'd lived and killed and hurt for the first twelve years of his life. His coven can't know. Can't know who he really is, what he can really do. Can't know anything about his past. He doesn't want a coven full of Elementalists who don't trust him; one of whom he's pretty sure despises him. He doesn't want that life. He wants the life of a pickpocket, on the streets, because nobody questions street kids, and nobody comes asking about his past and pushes him to tell his secrets that he holds closest inside. Tubbo tries to tell him to trust people. But trust is how you die.

Good fantasy AU, has SBI, and is thus fluffy.

Turn of the Tide by SilverWing15

Tommy’s fins twitch at the mention of Dream’s ancestors. Dream talks about them a lot, how they made their fortune hunting down mer pods, how they were cruel and greedy. Nothing like Dream is. They’ve both overcome their roots he says.

Tommy is nothing like the wild mer out in the ocean, who spend their lives scraping by just to survive, who kicked him out of the pod when he was a baby because he was too small. He’s also better than the pit mer, who can’t overcome their wild instincts and know nothing but fighting.

He’s different from them, he’s better than them. He’s Dream’s. //// OR: Change is like the tide, when it comes, you can only sink or swim. You would think that a mer would be better at keeping afloat.

Mermaid AU Pooog. Part of a series.

One-Shots:

Snapped by AmberRunnel

“You don’t know what I went through in that prison cell.”

Jack burst out laughing, blinded with rage and the overwhelming urge to hurt Tommy, to give him everything he deserved. “Oh, is the poor child traumatized? You want pity now?” He twisted his blade, and Tommy’s axe was sent clattering to the ground.

“If the prison was so awful, why don’t I send you back there?”

-|-

Jack doesn't handle Tommy's revival well. There's a simple solution, though. Kill Tommy, and Dream revives him right back into that cell. Problem solved, kid dealt with.

It takes a few confrontations for Jack to realize he's an asshole.

It's fucked up, but god does it hurt in a good way.

the sky is coming down blue by salinesolution

An imagining of New Milo's perspective throughout the Skyblock Randomizer adventure. What did he think of the world he found himself in, and how did Wilbur's feelings and actions change things for him? Here's my way of answering those questions.

He made the fish think, funniest shit I've seen.

You told me to be a hero (so let me die like one) by spiromachia

"You told me to die like a hero," the blond interrupted, spinning on his heel to face the others, holding his arms wide open, "So why not fulfil the ending that was always meant to be."

Across the battle field, through the chaos and destruction, a tree burned.

Even the sound of explosions and cries and bloodshed felt distant enough for the world to become silent for a few moments, each individual slowly coming to the same conclusion, each of their bodies tensing.

Tommy's face broke out into a grin as he lowered his head, glowering at the people around him, and Philza's face flashed with recognition.

"Kill me."

Or... In the middle of Doomsday, Tommy decides to ask Technoblade to be the Lycomedes to his Theseus.

Heavy and dark, but at least Dream gets it.

tomorrow night by meridies

Tommy is desperately searching for his missing brother. Techno is the reluctant psychic who unfortunately got dragged along.

or, two people, more alike than different, learn what it is to have a family at their side.

It's cute what can I say :]

maple syrup by itisjosh

"We could run," Tubbo stares at the sun. "We've got everything we've ever wanted right here. We could run."

"Yeah," Tommy agrees, feeling his head swim. "We could."

(or, tommy and tubbo run away together)

Children get away from toxic adults :)

Why’d it have to be so sunny? (The sun shouldn’t shine without you.) by AToZRainToBe

‘A realisation hits Phil in the face like a truck. “Wi- Ghostbur,” Phil says, turning to his grey-scale, translucent, actually-dead son. “You definitely told Tubbo that Tommy’s alive, right?”’

To get away from Dream, Tommy agrees to fake his death, going with the cover story that he jumped from the pillar in Logstedshire. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell Tubbo.

Misunderstandings are one of my favorite tropes.

sugar and ice by princedemeter for Aenqa

“He is my son,” Philza says. “Mortal or not, I would see him grow strong.”

Technoblade looks down on earth, at the tiny, angry bundle of cloth and pinking, wrinkled skin. This mortal child, he thinks, lungs filled with breath from the king of gods himself, will not grow strong.

It's mostly centered around Technoblade and Wilbur with Phil being a shitty dad. Pog Gods AU.

a matter of time by meridies

Tommy is twelve years old when his wings first appear, and he is twelve years old when Phil tells him, "All it takes is time and patience, Tommy, and soon you'll be flying even better than me."

or, Tommy grows up feeling like a failure, and it takes him a while to figure out where he's happiest.

Tommy is just finding his place in the world. Powers AU.

That Time a Baby Decided to Raise a Baby by Scitrust

Tubbo wasn't good at making excuses, so when Schlatt asked him why he was leaving in the night, he made something up on the spot. That had been months ago.

At least he sort of had an alibi for that, now.

Or, in which Tubbo finds a baby in the woods on his way to see Tommy, and promptly adopts it.

Part of a collection!! Read it all.

spider lily by blue000jay

Wilbur has a body.

The freckle on the base of his left pinky finger (shared with Techno). The scar on his chin from when he was twelve and over ambitious, diving into too-shallow water. The scar on his throat from the final control room, and the puckered skin on his shoulder from the poisoned arrow that killed him next. Various other nicks and things that litter his skin from years of rebellion and living wild, a kid thrown into a vicious world with too little self-preservation.

(Resurrection AU, for when/if Wilbur comes back.)

The author knows how it's like to live with chronic pain, and it shows :(

Hands tied loose by rabiddog

"Let's run away, Tubbo." Tommy breathed; a wide grin split across his face as his hope grew. "Let's get out of here – far away. We can go anywhere, can't we? Let's just go, you and me right here, right now."

-

Tommy needs to leave. He has to get out of L'Manburg, he has to leave the Dream SMP for his own sanity, and he wants Tubbo to come with him.

But Tubbo has a family now, a better life - something that he can't give up... not even for his best friend.

Unhappy ending :(

The serpent underneath by rabiddog

Tommy and Techno sit at the memory-filled bench and talk. Technoblade reminisces, he talks, he admits his pent-up feelings, he cries. And Tommy? Tommy listens. (That's all he can do.)

-

“I’m sorry for everything, you know? For all of it. I’m so sorry about... about the first war, about the withers and the fighting, about...” Technoblade's fingers began to curl around Tommy’s blonde locks. “About Wilbur and everything after. I'm so, so sorry.”

:((((((((

Damning choices by rabiddog

Ranboo would have never expected to find himself in a horrifying situation such as that one - quite literally sandwiched between a rock and a hard place, with three lives dangling over his head and the answer on the tip of his tongue.

Tubbo, Michael, Tommy.

It's his choice. He chooses who lives, and who dies. His new family, or his first friend. But Ranboo... Ranboo already knows.

-

"Ranboo," He hissed out, voice cracking and somewhat staticky, "It's not your fault. It's not. You had no other choice; I know that, okay? I- I know that- I know- I know..."

:(((((((((((((((((((((((((((

Jealousy is a disease by rabiddog

Tommyinnit isn't new to the idea of jealousy. He understands it completely. He understands the way it runs rampage through his body each time he catches even a glimpse of Tubbo and Ranboo's new relationship, he understands that the emotion makes his heart clench uncomfortably from time to time. He sees it, feels it, and yet he doesn't care.

He doesn't care at all.

-

"You took Tubbo away from me. You took him away. You took my best friend, and now he's- now he's not my best friend anymore, and I-!"

:)

Word of Honour by rabiddog

Tommy could only stand and stare as Technoblade agreed to hand him over to Dream - as his brother traded him off like he was nothing. Like Tommy wasn't important.

-

Technoblade was a man of honour. He was a man of pride and sticking to his word. He knew that he owed Dream a favour, and no matter what that favour might be, he'd be compliant with it. Nothing would change his mind. (Not even Tommy.)

Almost canon. F.

Sweet Repentance by rabiddog

Perhaps Tommy should have told Phil about his arguably life-threatening injury the minute his father had opened the door. But of course, Tommy being Tommy, did not.

Dying seemed like a nice enough option as long as he was with his family.

-

Tommy just wanted acceptance, forgiveness, and peace. He wanted to close his eyes for the last time and finally be able to let go.

Tommy dies painfully.

A White Tulip by astervoid

He picked the white tulip from the bottom of the stem, standing up carefully as he held it pinched between his fingers. It would die now, inevitably, but Tommy relented and held the flower to his chest. What a silly, stupid thing to ground him. He almost hated that it made his breaths come easier and his steps feel lighter. Almost.

Tommy & Ranbooo chill on the bench.

lying to the authorities (again) by touchgrass

"Please tell me that my right-hand-man, my soon-to-be vice president, one of the people I trust the most on this godforsaken server, did not lie straight to my face and tell me he was twenty-fucking-years-old.”

Tommy opened his mouth to protest, but then closes it shut at the furious look on Wilbur's face. Oops.

~

It is the day of the elections and Wilbur Soot could not have chosen a worser time to realize that half his staff is underage.

The ONLY fic with this premise I've seen on Ao3.

Dear Theseus by rabiddog

Tommy had thought that they'd won - thought that they'd finally beaten Dream, and that everything would be okay. As it turns out, however, apparently Dream had called in that favour from Technoblade after all.

-

“Please,” Tommy whispered after a beat, quivering hands edged upwards to hesitantly press against the tip of the sword striking through his chest. Why, why, why? Why him? Why now?

Tommy almost wins.

A Shifting World by AplusIsRoman

How was Wilbur supposed to know it would end like this?

The smoke hung in the air and soot clung to his skin. His brother - adopted, but older by two minutes - stood back-to-back with him. The chilling cries of people and the calls of the withers rang through the air above the chasm that was once his home.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

How could he have known this would happen?

-

Sequel to A Child's World

Age-swap AU. Has a prequel.

heart of the sea by RyDyKG

Here is the secret that he barely thinks about, a secret that he shoves deep and far down in himself:

Wilbur Soot is a siren, and he’s not exactly proud of that fact.

Wilbur-centric. Urban Fantasy AU.

He knows, ok? by Ralli

By some means, Techno has given his raccoon younger brother some cotton candy. It doesn’t end as well as either of them would like.

Very, very cute :)

that's it, it's split (it won't recover) by Jk_Kat

Tommy has always been the fighter.

He has never been the fought for, and he knows it, with every whisper Tubbo directs at Ranboo, with every glance thrown his way- Tommy knows, the way he wishes he didn't, that they think he's dead.

If they're so convinced he's still dead, maybe the one good thing left he can do for them is die.

---

Or, Tommy gets addicted to being dead and thinks that nobody cares about him. The people who very much do try to pull him back from the brink before Dream can't resurrect him anymore.

Messed up, but with a happy ending.

Hugs 'n PTSD by rabiddog

Ranboo knew from the start that the recovery process would be hard - that moving on from quite literally being beat to death would be something hugely difficult to step away from, and that's if Tommy could even manage it at all.

He knew that it would be stressful and arduous, demanding and tough... he just hadn't expected to be holding Tommy through a PTSD-induced panic attack only days after his release from Pandora's Vault.

-

Ranboo isn't typically an overbearingly protective person. But for Tommy? He just might be.

I love this author if you can't tell.

Big Men don't cry by Shiny22Snivy

The room is small and warm, almost stifling compared to the cool openness of the ravine. It’s cosy and candlelit, and a chest sits open in the corner, full of what looks to be burnt rags of a former smart suit. And sitting in rumpled blankets on a bed, cradling a mug of something steaming, sits Tubbo.

At first, Tommy forgets all about Niki’s vague warning. He’s just so happy to see his best friend again, alive and well and all in one piece. Tubbo’s okay. Tubbo’s okay, and in front of him, and suddenly everything bad in the world is gone, if only for just a moment.

“Tommy?”

And then Tubbo turns to look at him.

Clingyduo fluff.

sins of the father (i broke all my bones that day i found you) by ryter

The thing that hurt Wilbur most was when he saw Fundy tear down the walls of L'Manburg. After all, those walls had gone up to protect his son. But in this world, Fundy trusts his father just a little bit more, and it ruins him.

Or: there's only one way Wilbur never becomes the villain. It's unclear whether this was the better path.

SOME VIOLENCE WARNINGS/BLOOD MENTION. CHARACTER DEATH. SO MUCH ANGST.

Sad, but cathartic.

REVIVED TOMMY HEADCANNONS AHAHAHAHA by racooninnit

i’m dropping ALL the fucking revived tommy headcannons on you guys today get ready for some ANGST

this is different from what i usually post but it was fun

i don’t think there’s a lot i need to put warnings for, obviously there are mentions of the way tommy died and the aftermath of that (i.e. injuries and trauma), but if there’s anything that needs a warning please tell me!

What it says on the tin- not really a fic.

Unfinished Stories:

Ongoing (Less than a month since the last update):

Over the River Styx by CorpseArt

I feel like we should name him.

There’s a scuffle at the back of his mind as he rolls up, curling tight with a shiver despite the heat of the flames licking up his back.

I mean, he’s like – us, but like a worse version clearly because oh man, this is just weirdness. There’s a flare of a tangle of emotions, complicated and fearful, resentful and livid with anger. I can’t believe this is what I’ve been reduced to, stuck in the mind of this- this child.

He’s like your age, Tommy. Are you calling yourself a child?

I mean, I am one so fucking duh. Child murderer.

-

Or: trauma bonding in the most unconventional of senses.

Just- Read it. Show the writer your support, it's unique, it's amazing and there needs to be more of it.

If history is dead and gone by iregretallmydecisions

“Don’t come any fucking closer,” Tommy shouted, startling Phil into stepping back. Tommy was still looking around wildly, like a trapped animal “Don’t fucking do it.” ---- In which Tommy finds himself faced with his splintered family, while it was still mostly whole. The past is not an easy place to be when the future was not kind. His family is forced to deal with the fall out.

It's better than Rewind, but you didn't hear that from me.

Wilbur Soot's Redemption (OR Ghostbur's Retry) by luckykitty0523

Wilbur had many regrets in his life, being lost in his madness and the urge for revenge drowned leaving a shell of who he once was. It was only in his dying moments that he regained himself but it was already too late for him leaving him drowning in wishes and regrets. However waking up in another different universe where wilbur was never born and family soulmates exist, so when wilbur said he wanted to fix the mistakes he never expected this turn of events.

OR

In one world wilbur dies and he would return as a ghost missing his memory and trying to fix what he did in life but in this one wilbur dies and wakes up in another world where soulmates exist and the wilbur of that world was never born so wilbur/ghostbur takes his place and tries to make up his mistakes to the other version of his friends.

Wilbur adopts SBI + Fundy + Dream.

A Talk Long Overdue by penink

Tommy has his first therapy session with Puffy.

Tommy gets therapy.

Into the Night by Interjection

“Don’t touch me,” Tommy hisses, leaning against the railing. “I will - I will-”

They’re a hundred stories up. Wind lashes against Phil’s face. Next to him, Sam makes choked noise.

“But why?”

Tommy looks up to meet Phil’s eyes, terror struck so deep in those pale blue irises Phil thinks they must hold all the world’s fears within them.

“You’ll die,” he whispers. “And then I’ll die. But I’ll come back.”

“And I don’t want to come back.”

Others have the freedom to live. Tommy doesn’t even have the freedom to die.

But maybe they can teach him that living doesn’t have to be so bad.

---

(Superpowers AU where whenever someone touches Tommy, they both die. But Tommy will always come back to life eventually. He just wants it to end - but instead, he’s on the run, terrified of how his power will be exploited if he’s caught.

A few people reluctantly team up to save him.)

Funky SBI dynamics + a Sam that cares. Also a lot of angst.

[bigskydreaming]

Re-reading Barbara Gordon's appearance in Hawk and Dove, I've concluded Hank may not have originally been Monarch, but was always intended to be Extant. Hank's being called by someone claiming to be Don from beyond the grave, and Hank says he'll do anytjing to bring his brother back. There are also hints in Team Titans: The name Lord Chaos is a huge one, as is how Redwing and Prester Jon mirror Robin and Oracle. Hank would feel the need to create a Dick pastiche just to prove he's better.

Tbh, I've never put a ton of thought into either the Monarch or the Extant stuff, since it was all so fucking messy even by DC-in-the-90s standards, and it always felt more like DC just desperately looking for a way to keep Hank relevant after they killed off Don (since they were conceived as a duo, the Hawk AND Dove concept...rather than DC ever previously having done much to make their characters stand on their own, outside of that concept).

Course, unlike with a lot of the rest of DC's more convoluted plots, I just flat out was never invested enough in Hank's character to do the mental gymnastics it takes to try and unpack everything they did with him back then. Like, attempting to make sense of the constant 'everything you thought you knew about Hank Hall was wrong and THIS is the truth, at least until the next time we pull this shtick and do this all over again' twists to his character.....that was practically a full time job.

(Cut to twelve year old me, who was like I know I'm not getting paid for this, and I've got a strong enough grasp on capitalism by now to know that means I can quit at any time and that time is now.)

Like, they really did look at Hank Hall and go "this man is a wall and by god, we are committed to staying right here and throwing as much spaghetti as it takes until we come up with a random twist on his character that STICKS and magically makes readers actually give a damn about him!"

Arrested development voice over: They did not, in fact, manage to come up with a twist that stuck and magically made readers actually give a damn about him. But in the end, they still all went home eventually anyway, and that’s the story of how nobody ever ended up actually giving a damn about the character who was Hank Hall. And also Extant. And also Monarch. Maybe. Probably. Look, it was something like that, we’re pretty sure.

Anyway, the point of all this - in as much as I ever have a point which let's be real, mmmmm what would that be like, even - is that you, dear anon, might have managed to succeed where DC could not, a full twenty five years later: coming up with an angle on all that which actually entertains me enough to make it worth wading into all the Monarch/Extant bullshit.

Because if there's one thing I DO believe to be true of Hank Hall, no matter what time travel and Order/Chaos fuckery is afoot with his character....

Its that a Hank who went full supervillain?

Would absolutely be petty and obsessive enough to create an evil doppelganger of Nightwing just so he can a) get his jollies playing puppet master with the life and mind of someone who genuinely at times believed himself to BE Dick Grayson, b) make the real Dick Grayson look bad via the actions of his puppet Deathwing, the ultimate smear campaign, and c) throw him in the real Dick Grayson's face while saying 'look at him, he's you but faster' and gloating about how he made a better Dick Grayson than the real Dick Grayson.

Literally everyone else: Ummm, DID you though?

Evil Hank: No, I totally did. Look at my creation, Deathwing. He's totally a better Nightwing than the real Nightwing who I have definitely not been resentfully comparing myself to and falling short of for pretty much as long as I've known him. Hah! Ah hahaha! Ha hah! I did it! I finally beat Dick Grayson! This is me winning!

Literally everyone else: I mean, this is definitely something. We'll give you that.

Dick: Why does this sort of shit keep happening to me? I would like to know please. Like what am I doing, what am I putting out there that makes people so obsessed with beating me at the game of life without even first notifying me that we are actually in some sort of weird competition. I am a simple man who just wants simple things like to save the world and maybe hear his dad tell him he's proud of him, doesn't even have to be in that order. Like is there somewhere I can get a T-shirt that says "Weird thought but maybe I don't actually give a shit about beating you and being better than you and your insecurities are a you problem"?

Boone: I am feeling super attacked right now and I'm not even in this post.

[littlemisspascal]

The Last Mandalorian

Chapter One: The Warrior in Carbonite Part 3

Fandom: The Mandalorian / Pedro Pascal

Eventual Pairing: Din x Togruta!Female!Reader

Word Count: 4,320

Rating: G

Summary: A series that is a mixture of Mandalorian, Star Wars, ATLA, and my own imagination. The Imps have seized control of the majority of the galaxy, including your homeworld Shili. You and your sister Ahsoka have developed a daily routine despite the stormtroopers keeping your village imprisoned. One morning you make a startling discovery that will change the course of your lives forever.

Warnings: I don’t know much about starship mechanics so probably nothing in this is accurate but it’s fanfiction people so cut me some slack please, reader gets a nickname 🥳, plot plot plot, discussion of loss of loved ones, worldbuilding, dialogue heavy, this is a slow burn but it’s also ridiculously self-indulgent so I’m including as many cute getting-to-know-you scenes as I can, reader is 17 and Din is 19 so I’m going to warn this as underage even though nothing sexual or even vaguely romantic happens in this chapter.

Author Note: Thank you anyone and everyone who has read even a sentence of this story! Special thanks and love to @dindja for creating this stunning, fantastic, amazing piece of fanart for me 💖💖💖 I still can’t believe how perfect it is. I mean, I’m such a sucker for pinky promises it’s not even funny and this is just beautiful 😍😍😍

Part 2

Cross-posted on AO3

For as grand and wide-reaching as the Galactic Empire has become in its ten years of existence, it had relatively small beginnings. A group of radical Force-wielders banded together under the leadership of an old, beady-eyed man named Sheev Palpatine who believed it was his divine destiny to seize control of the entire galaxy, rewriting the ancient laws to match his own beliefs. His cult, the Sith Order, gained attention by attacking Jedi temples, capital cities, places with large populations until every corner of the galaxy had heard of them. Most regarded them with fear, but over time they began garnering a startling amount of followers who were discontent with the status quo and willingly drafted themselves as soldiers in Palpatine’s fight for control.

At first everyone in your village thought Palpatine and his cult of followers weren’t worth worrying about—after all, Shili was a peaceful planet that never drew much attention to itself. But within the first year of its inception, the Sith Order captured Ryloth and the similar peaceful characteristics between the Twi’lek planet and Shili were too glaring to overlook. A seed of anxiety took root in every Togruta’s mind after that, and continued to grow with every planet seized as the years progressed.

The Decimation of Alderaan didn’t start as a tragedy, believe it or not. The Mandalorians, Jedi, and Alderaanians combined their numbers in an all-out fight against the Sith Order. It was the largest battle ever fought in the history of the galaxy, thousands of souls willing to die to defeat Palpatine’s followers. For the first three days of warfare, the fight seemed to be in favor of the allies with many noteworthy Sith members reportedly killed in the fray, such as Palpatine’s second-in-command Dooku and lethal Zabrak assassin Maul. You remember there was a sense of hope felt within your village as everyone listened to the news reports blaring across the Holonet. A belief that things were finally, finally going to return to normal after so much chaos.

But on the fourth day, the Sith Order brought their own ally onto the battlefield.

At the time there wasn’t a name for the droids that slaughtered every opponent they faced. They were described as indestructible, unharmed by blasters and the intense heat of Mandalorian flamethrowers. Not even lightsabers could damage them. The allies didn’t stand a chance, brutally murdered one by one, their dying screams echoing across the Holonet, forever haunting listeners far and wide.

The Dark Troopers were unleashed upon Mandalore afterwards and out of the ashes rose the Galactic Empire, except, in a twist nobody—not even the Sith Order—saw coming: Palpatine died before taking on the title of emperor, passing away in his sleep. A mediocre ending for the monster who permanently altered the foundations of the universe. One of his loyal followers from the cult’s early beginnings took control in his place, a vile man with a penchant for spilling blood and a deceptively bland name: Gideon.

Only seven years-old then, you didn’t understand the unbalance in the Force your aunt kept referencing. You didn’t understand the meaning of the word genocide either. But you did understand the galaxy would never be the same ever again, and the lesson was only further established as truth when the Imperials seized your village. 

There is no normalcy to return to anymore.

And as long as Emperor Gideon remains in control, there is no future to hope for either.

__

Silence reigns in the aftermath of Maar’s explanation as the long list of tragedies hangs heavy over the four occupants. There is tension in the air as you await the Mandalorian’s response to the extinction of his people, whether that be an outburst of anger or tears, and each passing minute only intensifies the nervous energy thrumming through your veins. Your leg starts to bounce restlessly, a bad habit you have had since childhood.

The Mandalorian stands eerily motionless. Your eyes keep flicking from your lap to his visor though you know it is rude to stare. His helmet hides his expression, but you don’t need to see it to know he is floundering right now, mind scrambling to piece together all the details thrown at him. From personal experience, you know the loss of a loved one hits like a tidal wave, hitting you over and over again until you must decide if you are going to stand up or surrender to drowning. Grieving the loss of your parents is the hardest experience of your lifetime to date.

But this...this is vastly different. The Mandalorian didn’t just lose his loved ones. He has lost his friends, neighbors, comrades, acquaintances, everyone all at once. This loss isn’t a tidal wave. It is a kriffing avalanche, burying him ten feet under in total darkness, and there is no one he can count on to save him. 

Finally, after the longest five minutes of your life, he shifts, resting his hands upon his belt with an unexpected air of seriousness. “I need to go.”

You frown, head tilting. That is his reaction?

“Go?” Ahsoka echoes, sounding as incredulous as you feel. “Go where?”

“To look for survivors,” he answers, blunt and harsh, the words forced through clenched teeth. 

Ahsoka is struck silent, and you feel your heart break on his behalf. Your mother’s stories about the Mandalorians had always included, one way or another, their lifelong bonds with each other. You had felt those ties when you had connected with the Mandalorian, believed for a moment as strongly as he did that his fellow warriors would come search for him, that his absence would be noticed and missed amongst them. And here he is now, still desperately clutching to them, unable—or, perhaps unwilling is more apt—to believe a stranger telling him those bonds have been cruelly severed. 

“What you need is to rest,” Maar says, gentle yet firm, letting her authority as the eldest in the room seep into her tone.

He shakes his head, not backing down. “I’ve been asleep for ten years. I don’t need any more rest.”

“Your ship, it, uh,” your shoulders hike up defensively when his visor snaps in your direction, pinning you with its blank stare. Clearing your throat, you continue with a slight grimace, “It’s going to need some repairs before it can take off. I can help you fix it.”

Ahsoka looks over at you in surprise, and then in worry. You don’t blame her, especially since the offer had slipped out without you consciously meaning it to. Once again, the Force is calling the shots and you are just along for the ride, a passenger in your own body.

He considers you for a long moment, then asks, “What do you know about the mechanics of a gunship?” 

If anyone else had asked you that same exact question, you would have bristled at their condescension and retracted your offer in the next breath. But with the Mandalorian, there isn’t even the slightest hint of patronizing courtesy. It is a serious question prompted from genuine curiosity.

You sit up straighter, smiling at him now. “Enough to confidently say I’m your best shot at getting off the ground.”

__

“What’s your plan, exactly?” Ahsoka asks you, braced against the wall with one eye on you and one on the Mandalorian across the garage, patiently waiting for you to finish assembling your tool kit. 

“Huh?” You reply distractedly, trying to decide if you should bring your carbon chisel or not. 

“You don’t have one, do you?”

Not. There are bigger concerns than a bit of carbon scoring. You move to grab your favorite screwdriver with a tapered socket, only for Ahsoka to snatch it away, holding the tool hostage.

“Hey!”

“Have you thought about what you’re doing?” Ahsoka asks slowly, staring you directly in the eyes. “Once you fix his ship, he’s gone. And he’s taking our best chance at escaping Shili with him.”

A quick glance over your shoulder shows the Mandalorian studying the scattered BB unit parts on your workbench. You are missing a few vital components needed in order to bring the little droid back to life after a stormtrooper shot a plasma bolt through it for accidentally bumping into his leg, and haven’t had any luck convincing the village traders to track them down for you when they went to the capital. 

“We can’t keep him here against his will,” you manage at last, turning back to your sister. “Otherwise we’re no better than the Imps.”

When Ahsoka doesn’t say anything, you shrug a shoulder, adding, “Besides, I think I’m supposed to fix it for him. The Force seems pretty insistent about it.”

She makes a face at that. “I liked you better when you ignored your Force instincts. You didn’t make me worry as much.”

A laugh escapes you, embarrassingly loud in the otherwise quiet space, and your cheeks immediately start burning. Ahsoka’s lip twitches like she wants to smile, but instead she schools her features into a blank expression when the Mandalorian’s head turns at the sound. Only once he diverts his attention elsewhere again does her stare lose some of its intensity, looking less like she wants to dissect him beneath a microscope. You can practically see her protective-older-sister-instincts buzzing, reacting to the warrior’s presence. 

As much as he is a chance at providing an escape, he is also first and foremost a complete and total stranger. Even worse, he is a complete and total stranger who knows how to handle weapons. 

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You squeeze her arm reassuringly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a couple of hours. You’ll be so busy smoothing the Elders’ ruffled feathers you won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Ahsoka finally relinquishes the tool, exhaling a quiet sigh. “You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.”

__

Walking side by side with the Mandalorian in silence isn’t awkward, per se, but it definitely isn’t comfortable either. He is close enough your arm keeps accidentally grazing against his, the cold brush of metal against your skin startling you each time. You would have considered his nearness strange if you hadn’t heard Ahsoka threaten to castrate him if you wound up hurt before she sent him flying at the juni tree branch outside your window with an unnecessarily strong push of Force. 

To his credit, the warrior handled her rough treatment with the same ease he has handled everything else thrown at him. You are beginning to think Mandalorians don’t just wear beskar—they are made of it too. Other than the few glimpses of frustration earlier in Maar’s office, he keeps his cards close to his chest, impossible to read. 

He watches everything though, reacting to the slightest of movements and sounds. Constantly alert. You are certain he is watching you right now, despite the fact his helmet is facing forward, your nerves prickling in response to the sensation of eyes upon you.

To your surprise, he is the one to break the silence first. “You sneak out often.”

It is a statement, not a question. 

You suppose the dots are easy enough to connect to reach that conclusion. Still, the certainty in his voice has your heart skipping a nervous beat. He hasn’t even known you a day and yet he is privy to secrets no one outside your community is aware of. “Yeah,” you nod your head after a brief lapse of silence, “Ahsoka can’t train in the village. Not with the stormtroopers around.”

“Has your village tried to run them out? Fight back?”

It is only because you know he is just trying to understand your village’s predicament with the little bits of information he has that you don’t snap at him for being so insensitive. He has no idea what these past five years have been like for you all. No idea the amount of losses and sacrifices the community has suffered. 

Your grip on your tool kit tightens. “I was twelve when they came. The community is mostly traders and hunters, not trained fighters. The few weapons we had were nothing compared to their blaster rifles, but some of the adults tried to defend the village, including our parents. They...” You swallow, or try to, at least, your throat suddenly dry as sand. “Our aunt looked after us until last year we woke up one morning to find a note she’d left to join the rebellion. We haven’t had any contact with her since.”

The Mandalorian’s gloved hand brushes against your knuckles. This time you think it might have been on purpose.

“I lost my parents as a child, too. There was a riot and they died protecting me,” he offers his own private details with the same reluctance as one volunteering to have their teeth pulled out. “The Mandalorians took me in, raised me as one of their own.”

You say nothing about the way his breath slightly hitches when he says Mandalorians, appreciating his openness as it puts you both on somewhat equal footing with each other. 

“I owe it to them to look for survivors,” he tells you, and your montrals detect the quietest hint of a plea in his voice. 

“I understand,” you answer, keeping your tone light to preserve the fragility of this moment. This kind of situation doesn’t happen often—two strangers on the same wavelength, exposing their vulnerable underbellies, desperate to be heard and yet skittish at the same time—and it is oddly therapeutic. 

A decision is made right then and there in the span of a heartbeat. And even more significantly, it is 100% your own choice without any intervention or manipulation from the Force. 

You stop walking, causing the Mandalorian to halt as well. He scans the area for a threat, then visibly jerks when he turns back to find you have your hand held out towards him, pinky raised high, reacting as if you are pointing a weapon at him.

“I don’t understand,” he says, blunt and almost suspicious sounding. Are you just imagining it or can you actually hear him frowning? “What are you doing?”

“Haven’t you ever made a pinky promise with someone before?”

“...A what?”

You snort, ducking your head to hide your smile, and then reach for his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t protest your touch.

“A pinky promise,” you repeat as you make his hand form a fist, curling his fingers towards his palm, and then adjust his pinky so you can wrap yours around it. He watches the whole process wordlessly. “It’s a sacred vow shared between two people. The Elders say once it’s sworn, the promise can never be broken.”

He cocks his head, skeptical. “Never?”

“Never,” you reaffirm with a nod. Licking your lips, you look at his visor, right where you instinctively know his eyes are staring back. “I promise I’m going to help you. No matter the odds.”

And something leaks into your voice then, something resolute and binding and otherworldly. A tremor shoots down your spine, too quick for you to make sense of it.

Your sister’s words echo in the back of your mind, ‘You shouldn’t make promises you don’t know for certain you can keep.’ 

You try to pull away, self-doubt gnawing a hole in your stomach, only for the Mandalorian to wrap his pinky tighter around yours, holding you still. A gasp escapes your lips, muffled by the bleeding sincerity in his voice as he swears:

“I promise I will be there when you need me. No matter the odds.”

And although your sister could undoubtedly provide you with a long list of reasons why you shouldn’t, you believe his promise to be true.

__

The Mandalorian heaves a heavy sigh at the sight of his crashed ship. 

“I can’t do much about the landing gear,” you inform him, believing honesty to be the best policy for cases like this. “And I brought some foam-jet for the cockpit viewport, but it’s not a permanent fix. You’re going to have to find someone offworld to replace them.”

“Right,” he agrees absently without turning his eyes away. It occurs to you then that this ship is the closest thing to a home he has now. One of the few precious relics from his past he can still physically cling to. 

“Does your ship have a name?” you ask.

He looks at you, as if coming back to self-awareness, and answers, “Razor Crest.”

A good name, you think. Strong. A bit mysterious. Just like its owner.

You nod decisively. “I like it.”

His modulator crackles faintly, a quiet noise produced from a sudden exhale of air. You blink at the unexpected sound, surprised to realize you recognize it. A laugh. The Mandalorian just laughed at something you said. What is next in store for you? Are akul going to sprout wings and start flying?

He steps around you, heading for the side entry door still open from yesterday with its ramp laying on the ground, pebbles shifting noisily beneath his boots with each step. You don’t realize you are staring, oddly entranced by the swish of his cape and his purposeful strides, until he calls out your name to ask if you are coming.

You nearly drop your tool kit in your haste to follow after him into the Crest’s interior, ignoring the flaring heat radiating from your cheeks. 

For the next few hours, you and the Mandalorian work in companionable silence, engrossed in rerouting wires and welding damaged components with your trusty hand torch. The gunship is older than you initially assumed, perhaps even as old as yourself, and you idly wonder if the Mandalorian found it in a scrapyard somewhere or maybe inherited it from another Mandalorian. You notice the way he handles each piece with an experienced and respectful touch; the same kind of care someone reserves for their most cherished possessions. Anyone with eyes can see how much he loves the Crest just by watching him.

Once you have finished sealing the numerous cracks dissecting the cockpit’s viewport like a spiderweb with foam, you approach the Mandalorian to see his progress on returning power to the dashboard. He is on his back beneath the steering controls, rearranging a mess of wires, and barely acknowledges your presence when you squeeze yourself into the tight space next to him.

“The red wire goes before the white one,” you point out, noticing the mistake immediately. “Fire hazard.”

He pauses, looks at where you have gestured, and corrects his error without criticizing your intervention. You bite back a smile, pleased to be heard. Within your community, even though you have proven your skills time and time again, some of the villagers, usually men, don’t always adhere to your advice, thinking you are too young and too female to know about technology, until they inevitably make their problems worse for themselves and come back to you with their metaphorical tail between their legs. 

You help him reattach the cover plating once he has finished, screwing the bolts back into their corners, and then watch, fingers crossed, as he attempts the ignition sequence, flipping a series of switches.

None of them light up with even the faintest flicker of life.

“Dank farrik,” he growls under his breath, slamming a fist upon the console.

You take a tiny step forward, hesitant to direct his frustration your way. “Can I try?” 

He tilts his head, probably thinking he knows this ship better than anyone and if it doesn’t work for him then you aren’t going to have any luck either.

Eventually he steps back with a shrug, uttering a simple, “Sure.” 

Although you can’t remember the last time you were on a ship, it doesn’t take long to refamiliarize yourself with the various controls and screens once you take a seat in the pilot chair. When your hobby for fixing broken machines changed into a passion you wanted to pursue as a future career, you started memorizing any reading material you could find on the Holonet, including the flight manuals for different classes of starships. You flip through the stored information in your mind about gunships as you press a few buttons on the panel overhead, trying out different sequences for a response.

When your third attempt fails, you bite your lip, racking your brain for a solution. You think about Huno’s kitchen droid and how you had been on the verge of ripping off one of your head-tails trying to repair it after one of its fuses blew, causing it to malfunction. Your tools and knowledge hadn’t been able to fix it in the end. It had required a special remedy to bring it back to life.

You lay your palms flat on the console, just as you had held onto the droid’s square torso. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the Mandalorian fidget, as if he wants to come closer but is hesitant to crowd you. You ignore him, pressing your fingertips harder against the metal, visualizing in your mind the unseen gears, cables, and components stiff and powerless. You imagine the parts working properly, a current of electricity running through each wire, life ultimately returning to the entire ship, and whisper under your breath a request to the Force.

“Please work, please work, please work…”

An invisible pulse of energy burns down the length of your arms and discharges through your fingertips, strong enough you jerk backwards against the seat. Every button and screen on the dashboard lights up all at once, beeping with alarm at being so rudely resurrected.

You sit there helplessly, stunned and breathless, hands twitching in your lap. The kitchen droid hadn’t required even half as much energy to restart, barely a pinch. Now your body feels like you have been thrown against the electric fence a dozen times. Wordlessly, the Mandalorian comes to your side to help, punching buttons and turning knobs until the alarms quit blaring. A distant part of your brain thinks the Razor Crest as a whole seems strangely soothed by his presence, not quite as cold and dark, but it is hard to follow that train of thought due to the distracting pain throbbing along your temples.

“That’s quite a spark you’ve got,” he says, not unkindly or accusingly, just a statement of the obvious. He looks down at you, not outright asking for an explanation, but giving you the opportunity to open up if you wanted to.

“Yep, that’s me,” you reply, forcing a cheerful smile, praying it doesn’t resemble a grimace. “Sparks Tano at your service.”

He chuckles again, oblivious to how your heart stutters at its raspiness. “Thank you, Sparks. I appreciate it.”

“Well, we’re not done yet.” You rub at your temples under the guise of adjusting your headband. “I need to take a closer look at the engines before we attempt flying out of here. I—”

“I’ll do it,” he cuts in, already heading for the ladder. “You stay here, see if you can update the navicomputer settings.”

You know he knows that updating the navicomputer is child’s play for you. Clearly you aren’t as great at concealing your pain as you thought you were and this is his way of giving you a break. A small part of you is irritated at being treated like a porcelain doll, but you push those negative feelings aside as quickly as they develop. Your aunt always used to remind you and Ahsoka it was okay to accept help when it was offered, that needing support didn’t in any way make you weak. 

“Hey, wait a second,” you call out as you spin around in your seat, freezing him right before he disappears from view into the hull. He holds onto the ladder, waiting patiently for you to continue.

“Back at Maar’s place you didn’t introduce yourself and it’s weird just calling you Mandalorian in my head,” you say, awkwardly drumming your fingers on top of the armrests. He doesn’t answer, eliciting a sigh from your mouth after a drawn-out beat of silence. “What’s your name? You do have one, right?”

“I do, but I can’t tell you it,” he admits at last. “By Mandalorian Creed, only other Mandalorians or my riduur—my spouse,” he corrects, seeing your confusion, “are allowed to know my name and see my face. This is the Way.”

He doesn’t linger to hear your response, dropping down into the hull with a resounding thud. You slowly turn back around, staring absently out the glass. Every culture is unique, including your own, but you think there is something especially interesting about the Mandalorians’. It sounds like a lonely existence, only able to show your face while in select company. What would have happened if he had been unconscious and you had slipped the helmet off his head? What consequence would he have faced? 

And if there truly aren’t any Mandalorians left besides him, his spouse will be the only one to ever know him completely. It almost sounds like a love story, if not a little bit heart-wrenching. 

Two high-pitched dings from the console jerk you out of your thoughts with a wince. You look for the source, finding the radar lit up and actively scanning the area, and bristle when you see a pair of red dots moving across the screen. 

Not even a minute later you are sprinting out of the cave, ignoring the Mandalorian’s alarmed shout from the roof of the Razor Crest. They’re early, you think with panic, looking towards the sky where two starships with Imperial logos are heading straight for your village. Why have they come back so soon?

You push your legs to run faster, your surroundings a blur beyond the trail in front of you, but the effort is meaningless. You won’t make it back home before they land.

And when your absence is noted, bloodshed is not a possibility. 

It is a guarantee.

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[from-a-reckless-writer]

some rojascorp mayhaps??

Once upon time, Andrea Rojas would've been the first person she would call about this. Ask her if it would really be a good idea to drop everything and just leave. In her mind's eye, she can already see what Andrea would've said. She would say, yes. And most possibly even tell Lena she'd drop everything too and fly right along with her.

You jump. I jump.

She was sure of it. After all, they did it once before.

So, really it wasn't a surprise when she opens the door and sees Andrea on the doorstep.

"Andrea." The door opens wider and Lena lets her in. "What are you doing here?"

Even though based on the unreadable expression on her face, Lena already has an inkling.

"I overheard my emp-" she clears her throat, waits for Lena to turn and face her. "I overheard Nia and Kara today," Andrea speaks slowly, "You're going to Ireland."

Lena merely raises a questioning brow.

"I-" Andrea fidgets and that's the first time Lena sees that there is something in her hands. A folded piece of paper, it looks like.

Andrea catches her eyes, and says, almost a whisper, "I have something to confess."

Lena inhales deep, crosses her arms.

"Well, let's hear it then."

Andrea takes a step forward, debates putting a hand on Lena but settles for fidgeting with the paper again.

Now upon closer inspection, Lena notices its yellow color, an old parchment and if the inky bleeds are any indication, Lena's suspects it to be some old letter.

This rattles the heart in her chest, for reasons she would not dare name.

Andrea starts to speak again and Lena tears her gaze away from the letter.

"I-I've been investigating Lex," Andrea tells her.

"Seems like that's what everybody is doing these days, or so I heard." Lena's stalling she knows, but who wouldn't? Andrea's serious yet sincere gaze is terrifying. It has been so long since that's been directed at her, and Lena does not want to fall victim again.

Andrea ignores her, continues on, her voice now more sure, most likely the effect of noting Lena's reaction. Andrea knows all too well what she can do after all.

"And in order to do that," she explains, "I had to infiltrate the Luthor Mansion."

As Acrata, Lena adds in her head. She remains as stoic as possible and what Andrea does next almost knocks her.

"Lena," she says, "I really think we should sit down for this."

The rattling has now become pure chaos inside her.

Lena says nothing in response, just turns around again for Andrea to follow. She guides her to the enormous couch. She crosses her legs and Andrea does the same next to her. Lena pointedly avoiding the thing in Andrea's hands.

"So?" Lena prods.

Andrea inhales, swallows, "I went to Lionel's study."

The room springs clear in Lena's mind.

The rows of books; the smell of cigar and grease when Lionel brings his projects home; Lex's diploma framed and hung, Lena's report card pinned next to it. A single family picture. The stiffest Lena has ever felt for the camera.

"And I- I found something."

Lena snaps back to the present.

"It's from your mother."

Andrea looks regal in the open moonlight of her apartment, and God, she thinks, it truly would never be over, would it?

"N-not Lillian." Why Andrea felt the need to clarify that, she wouldn't know. When she's the first person Lena had confided to about how Lillian was never a mother to her.

"A letter," Lena states, her voice is quiet and calm, the opposite of the tempest deep inside.

"Yes," she confirms, "here." Andrea starts to hand her the letter-

"Can you please-" she blurts out suddenly, Andrea halting mid-way.

"Can you please hold my hand? While I-" she inhales deep, "While I read it? Please?"

Andrea only nods, reaches for Lena's hand, wraps around it tightly.

It's the anchor Lena needs, but she would never admit that. It looks like she doesn't need to though. Andrea already knows she's afraid of drowning.

Lena takes the paper gently, afraid that it will crumple the dust the moment her fingers touch it.

The paper is old and yellow. The ink blurred at some parts, drops of something Lena suspects to be alcohol, marring the words. He imagines Lionel reading it for the first time in his study. Did he feel the same churning in his stomach as Lena did now? Was he too drunk to even read it?

God, Lena so badly wishes she was drunk right now.

Andrea squeezes her hand and drags her back.

The writing isn't anything like hers. Each word in capital letters, which should've made it look a bit robotic and too uniform, yet to Lena's eyes it looks elegant. As if the hand that had written took great care in laying down the words.

She reads the first line.

"To my dearest Lionel,

I am sending this directly to the mansion, I apologize in advance. I tried calling. But your assistant, I have to commend her--she gets creative with those excuses--never fails to inform me that you're unavailable. I've also tried your various emails, to no avail. And well, this is my last resort.

All this to say, I know when I'm not wanted anymore. But I do just need to send you this one last letter. If you don't want me in your life anymore, well, who am I to stop you? You're Lionel Luthor.

But I do think you might want to know about your daughter, our daughter. Lionel, we never did make any good decisions together, but I think, our daughter, she's the one good thing to ever come out of this mess.

She's turning two on the 24th. She's perhaps the best thing that could have happened to my life. She's a menace, she started walking early and I've babyproofed the house yet I'm still afraid she'd knock her head somewhere. She's a babbler, and a smart one at that. She's going to do great things, Lionel. I just know it. I'm so proud of her already. She has your eyes. Always green. Always bright. I miss you, I'm not going to lie. Yet, when I hear her laugh, it doesn't hurt so much anymore.

Her name is Lena, in case you've already forgotten. Don't worry, her birth certificate doesn't say Luthor. Lena Kieran, I've decided, would be the safest for her. She will be untraceable. Nobody will manage to link her to you.

Then why name her Lena at all? If she'll never be a Luthor, right? Naming her with an L seems a bit sentimental, I admit. A selfish part of me, I think, is still hoping for you to come back. To see you hold Lena for the first time, matching eyes lighting up. Maybe give her your name.

Someday.

She's the love of my life, Lionel. I would do anything for her. I keep wondering if you would do the same if you met her. If you will ever meet her. I'm afraid, you know? I'm terrified of the day she'll come asking for you. I'm terrified that even though I love her fiercely, it would never be enough. Will my love ever be enough? It never was for you.

But well, I never was one to dwell on sad things, so I'm afraid I have to end it here, Lena will wake soon. And how such a small thing can make so much noise, I don't know.

Goodbye, my love.

If you ever have a change of heart, you know where to find us.

Yours..."

And that was it, Lena realizes, that was the end. It wasn't signed. She turns the paper over frantically, searching for any clue, anything, any sign.

A signature, a name, an initial.

Nothing. There's nothing.

"Where's the- there's no-"

She doesn't realize she's sobbing till Andrea's tearing the paper away from her hands and pulling her close; doesn't realize she's hyperventilating till Andrea's squeezing her tight, tight, tight.

"Lena, you have to breathe. Lena, breathe."

She lets herself be carried away by Andrea, heaving gasps coming out of her lungs.

She's the love of my life.

I would do anything for her.

She'll never be a Luthor.

I'm terrified-

"Lena, Lena," somebody's calling her.

"Lena, you have to look at me. Look at me."

Her eyes focus and Andrea is there, soft and strong and here.

Lena's fully in her lap, one arm wrapped around her, one hand cupping her face.

"Lena, Lena," she keeps saying her name, her palm warm on Lena's cheek, and all Lena can do is nod. Tears are still streaming down her face and if she opens her mouth, she's afraid of what will come out.

So, she nods. She nods and she tries to breathe, tries to follow Andrea's counting.

Her breathing settle, and she can feel the whoosh of relief from Andrea.

"There we go, just breathe, just breathe," she coos, running her fingers through Lena's hair.

"I'm sorry," Andrea tells her, "God, Lena. I'm so sorry, I should not have sprung it on you like that. I'm so stupid. So, so stupid. I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

She says sorry over and over. pressing it to Lena's hair, to Lena's forehead, anywhere within reach.

"T-there's no signature," Lena manages to say, she feels Andrea tense beneath her. "No name. I don't know why- I don't know why I can't remember her name."

Her lips move against Andrea's exposed collarbone, and she wonders if that's the reason something is drumming loud beneath the skin Lena's pressed to.

"She couldn't sign it, I think."

"I think so, too," Andrea agrees quietly.

She was the other woman, of course, she couldn't sign it. It was already an act of bravery to send it to a place where Lillian Luthor resides. Signing it would've meant more than danger.

"You were a kid," Andrea whispers, "You were a kid, Lena. It's okay if you don't remember."

But it's not. Because, because her mother loved her so much and Lena can't even remember her name.

"She said, I wasn't going to be a Luthor, in the letter, she said."

And that, that must mean something, right? That must mean that everyone else is wrong, she's not just a Luthor. She wasn't supposed to be one anyway.

Kieran.

"I'm so sorry, Lena," Andrea says again and Lena's unsure what she's still apologizing for.

"Kieran, Andrea. Kieran. I don't think that's supposed to be my middle name." She pulls away from her place on Andrea's chest to look at her.

She turns around, reaches for the letter discarded on the table. Her hands doesn't tremble much this time.

"Look, there, see," she points at the line, "She said, Lena Kieran. I think, I think that's a surname."

A clue.

A thread to pull on.

A part of her that connects them together.

Andrea stares at her silently, "I think you might be right."

Lena's mind is going a mile a minute now, she would have to research. She would need Brainy's help, a database, she needs access to a database, lists of orphanages, records that Lillian might have hidden about her.

"Lena," Andrea calls, "Slow down."

"I- I wasn't-" A blush rises to her cheeks, "I wasn't doing anything."

"Yes, you were. I can hear you thinking."

She doesn't answer, just slumps back into Andrea again, buries her red face out of sight.

"I'll help you," Andrea murmurs, "I'll help you. You don't have to do it alone. Not anymore."

"Okay," she says, dares to kiss at Andrea's jaw. "Thank you," she breathes against her skin.

There's so much to unpack, so much to do, so much to say.

But it can wait, it can wait.

"You jump, I jump."

[lunarblazes]

i made a desertduo playlist and then decided to be a nerd and write explanations for all the songs! like a nerd!

playlist link: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ZGylutQpyTbgX7MY7Lrzz?si=t8_kBwBHSYG5kxTvZoIrTQ&dl_branch=1

QUICK DISCLAIMER: i am aware that a lot of these songs may have or imply romantic connotation! i would really really like it if these were not read as though those romantic connotations carry over to scar and grian. even if we’re just talking about the third life characters, i would prefer not to ship them or imply romance between them on this post. thank you so much and keep reading if you’d like to see the playlist analysis!

and now that that’s out of the way, PLAYLIST TIME!

•

passerine- the oh hellos

“you were the song that i’d always sing/you were the light that the fire would bring/but i can’t shake this feeling that i/was only pushing the spear into your side again”

this song really just... firstly, it’s one of my favorite songs, and the line i chose there pushes home the sort of terrified devotion i think the desert has. plus there’s a fun line about the cold wind blowing in from the north in the ending bits that i think very much fits their conflict with the red army, and a lot of legally obligated flight imagery that i need to have in every possible song because i’m a fuckin nerd.

•

no children- the mountain goats

“i hope that our few remaining friends/give up on trying to save us/i hope we come up with a failsafe plot to piss off the dumb few that forgave us”

i will admit that no children isn’t a perfect fit, but the general vibe of sort of defiant pessimism and betrayal fits very well with them! it’s very triumphant in its death, and i think that is very desertcore, because what’s more triumphantly dead than being the last duo left alive?

•

skulls- bastille

“when all of our friends are dead and just a memory/it’s always been just you and me/for all to see”

okay like this entire song is SO MUCH DESERT VIBES? LIKE SO MUCH. if i were to ever make an animatic for them i’d do it with this song. “a match is our only light, it’s day of the dead i’m indiana jones, yeah,” “i hope you can make me laugh six feet under when we’re bored of each other,” “i don’t want to rest in peace, i’d rather be the ghost that annoys you,” IT JUST KEEPS GOING. i think this song would work well with any third life duo, honestly, but these two in PARTICULAR just because of how it ended with them literally ‘buried’ next to each other, and again, the chaotic death vibes.

•

freaking out- mystery skulls

“i just keep out of my tongue/til all you want is done/and you just wanna leave me, oh yeah”

this song is a very third life grian song to me in particular! it could be my bias because of my little headcanon of grian burning on his red life, but seriously, this song is very reminiscent of the back and forth of loyalty that grian has with scar. the above line is sort of representative of the betrayal on red, and of course grian’s life debt.

•

night running- shin sakiura

(this song is in japanese! these lyrics are the rough english translation i found on google.) “someday we will stand at this place once again/for sure we will stand up again and again/we will watch it will the end/i want you to live freely”

this song is actually the ending theme for the anime bna, which i adore, and i just added it on a whim before looking at the translated lyrics. but um. holy hell the lyrics hurt me because they’re about running in search of someone, running for no reason, looking for something, and it just really hit, because the desert never really had a goal! they didn’t expect to survive, they were trying to survive, but what was their longterm goals? nothing. so that sort of endless search felt fitting for this. plus the song is a parallel for the two estranged best friends of the show so! perfect.

•

summer nights- siames

“it’s summertime/singing al green in your car/heading to a party/and the night air feels alive”

okay again, i will admit this song is mainly on here because i absolutely love it, but i also do think it fits well. it’s also about healing/estranged friendships, with a very distinct feeling of nostalgia for a happier time. maybe for a time when this was all a game, when there was no blood or betrayals on their hands. little canon divergent, but it’s fun for me, so into the playlist it goes!

allies or enemies- the crane wives

“are we allies or enemies/this will be the death of me, this will be the death of me/all’s fair in love and war but i can’t fight with you anymore”

. i just. points to that lyric. it literally led to both of their deaths. are they allies or enemies? it also fits with scar still wanting grian to be his friend even after he’s no longer indebted with the line “what happens now? do we have another go, do we bow out?” another very good animatic song that i’ve considered heavily. i listen to this playlist a lot

•

burn him down- kitsch club

“you must destroy, oh you must destroy, beyond all recognition/you gotta burn him down, you gotta burn him down, beyond all recognition”

this song just has a lot of fire and arson and high energy vibes. my little war criminals look at them go

•

rose- the oh hellos

“what's true is like a sickle/it'll cut you to the middle/your rose is without a thorn/but no, my mouth don't taste of metal/from the pot here to the kettle/i think we got a lot we gotta learn”

this one is like the exact opposite vibe of burn him down. the oh hellos are so poetic and this song just... feels like the healing potions after a battle. many of the metaphors here fit, i think

•

lone digger- caravan palace

“hey, brother, what you thinking/that good ol' sound is ringing/they don't know what they're missing/(they call it lonely diggin')”

okay this song is straight up just a dance song. i added it because i like it and also for some reason it feels ominous to me? i’ve got no idea why, it’s seriously just a club song, but it’s a banger and it’s in this playlist because i said so

•

feed the machine- poor man’s poison (suggested by my friend argonaughtkeene!)

“somethin’s goin” on, just look around/fear is on the rise, and there’s blood all over the ground/let’s all just blindfold the poor, we all know what’s in store/ we got ‘em now, just break ‘em down a little bit more”

this song is a VIBE for both desertduo members. there’s parts for both of them. it’s ruthless, gritty, very maniacal, perfect. listen to it and you’ll immediately understand why i added it.

•

sweet tooth- scott helman

“i hold hands with cosmic entities/i’ll take this two-ride if i please/i got this sweet tooth baby, yeah i got this sweet tooth baby/i exploit my opportunities/some broken hearts, some cavities”

sweet tooth is super upbeat and bright with these strangely dark lyrics? like i’m pretty sure it’s about addiction. in any case, i thought the “i hold hands with cosmic entities” very funnily fitting for both of the desert boys. it’s a banger!

•

necromancin’ dancin’- bear ghost

“when i’m necromancin’, everyone’s dancin’/nobody can stop me, i dare you to try/the dead are infused with insatiable groove and they’re coming for you, there’s nowhere to hide”

necromancin’ dancin’ just. bastard vibes. there’s not much more to say it’s just huge villain song vibes. i adore it.

•

crazy = genius- panic! at the disco

“if crazy equals genius/then i’m a fucking arsonist/i’m a rocket scientist/if crazy equals genius/you can set yourself on fire/but you’re never gonna burn, burn, burn”

i. yeah. y. yeah. more bastard vibes. also shoutout to an artist i saw (i think it was strifesolution?) who made a desertduo piece to this song because i have not stopped thinking about it ever

•

sweet bod- lemon demon

“i’m diggin’ up your coffin/and pouring out the contents/your sexy, sweet solution/is ripe for distribution”

you know how i said freaking out was a grian song? this one is a scar song. it’s my favorite lemon demon song and also it has the total macabre capitalism vibe that third life scar NAILED. more bastard vibes good for him <3

•

drunk- the living tombstone

“feel so much better than usual/i feel indisputable, oh/but now i’m feeling so beautiful/don’t wake me up from this spell i’m under, if i’m still breathing/i know that i will be ugly when i feel like myself again, oh/but right now i’m feelin’ so beautiful”

the descent of this song, starting off with a polite gathering and ending with a gasping drunk in the parking lot gazing at the stars that he can barely see? yes. yeah. mhm. i used a line from this song for a fic, actually, it fit so well.

•

oh no!- marina

“one track mind, one track heart/if i fail, i’ll fall apart/maybe it is all a test/cos i feel like i’m the worst so i always act like i’m the best”

bubbly pop track about false confidence, the ruthlessness of the pop industry, and the influence of the media? you know why this is here. it vibes. it rocks.

•

do it all the time- i don’t know how but they found me

“we’re taking over the world/a little victimless crime/and when i’m taking your innocence/i’ll be corrupting your mind/no need to cry i’m only doing everything i want to do because i do it all the time”

EVEN MORE BASTARD VIBES! SOMEHOW THERE IS MORE! this playlist is half villain songs and half heart-wrenching ballads and that’s the real desert experience i think.

•

the phoenix- fall out boy

“i’m gonna change you/like a remix/then i’ll raise you/like the phoenix”

BATTLE SONG BATTLE SONG! i’ll be honest i partially chose this song because i am a huge sucker for phoenix grian imagery in particular, but it’s also just a very good war song for them. villain song no 18372948 except this one originally had a hero vibe and now it’s changed specifically for them?? wild. their power

•

the other side- the greatest showman

“right here, right now/i’ll put the offer out/i don’t wanna chase you down, i know you see it/you run with me/and i can cut you free/out of the treachery/and all you keep in”

scar and grian’s desert monopoly conversation went exactly like this canonically because i said so fuck you <3

•

icicles- the scary jokes (suggested by my friend demizorua!)

“icicles don’t soften when they die/so why should i, why should i?/oh, icicles don’t soften when they die/they sharpen into sabers and they stab you in the eye”

this song actually has specific parts for both grian and scar! my cool epic friend mx demizorua pointed both of them out to me and i adored it so much. it’s a very spiteful song, just like the desert boys. also it feels vaguely murderous. perfect

•

problems- mother mother (suggested by my friend demizorua!)

“i’m a loser, a disgrace/you’re a beauty, a luminary, in my face”

literally this entire song fits them. particularly their relationship with the flower husbands, to me, honestly— the whole “when we meet at the pearly gates/you’ll get the green light/and i’ll get the boot in the face” reminds me a lot of them hdksjdks

•

tongues and teeth- the crane wives

“i know that you mean so well/but i am not a vessel for your good intent/i will only break your pretty things/i will only wring you dry of everything”

h. yeah. this song is literally gaslight gatekeep girlboss and i attribute it to the desert for that reason alone. songs to commit murder to!

•

you’re nobody til somebody wants you dead- saint motel

“you’re nobody til somebody wants you dead/and the list, it grows, and grows, and grows/it grows, and grows, and grows/and grows, and grows, and grows/until it’s everyone you’ve ever known”

this one is very self-explanatory. enemies pogchamp

•

curses- the crane wives

“there’s a fire in my brain and i’m burning, love/oh my, oh my/keep running to the sink, but the well is dry/oh my, oh my/every word i say is kindling/but the smoke clears when you’re around”

okay again! this one has two very specific parts for both of them. grian’s the first verse, which is above, and scar’s the second verse!! i really do like my fire imagery for these two don’t i? well, i blame them for having a fuck ton of tnt on them at all times and literally burning their enemy’s banners as a final act of defiance.

[ibijau]

Concubine nhs / on AO3

Hey! It’s been over a year! but I’ve updated this! Miracles do happen!

The letter arrives just a week after Nie Mingjue and the emperor’s visit (a visit so brief that both were long gone by the time everyone woke up, having foregone sleep and hurried toward the capital to organise the now inevitable war), and its contents are a surprise to everyone. Certainly, Nie Huaisang is the most shocked of all to be invited to the capital by a cousin of his father who currently holds a high office in the imperial administration. The surprise is greater still when, upon reading the letter, his father finds subtle hints that the request is not to be denied, as it is the emperor’s own desire.

It has to be Nie Mingjue’s doing, they both agree. Now that the war is there, he must have asked his childhood friend to ensure the safety of his bastard brother. Qinghe is far too close to the border after all, while Gusu is far away from the fight and as safe a place as can be. 

Father is not happy with this turn of event. He complains that Nie Huaisang was only starting to be useful to the house, that he had hoped to rely on him to organise supplies to the troops and to keep their house safe while Mingjue and him would be on the frontline. He speaks of scolding his oldest son for being selfish, and even half accuses Nie Huaisang of having organised this to avoid his duties, in spite of being so generously legitimised. In the end though, Father can’t go against an imperial order, and Nie Huaisang is sent away the very next day, having barely been given any time to pack for what might be a long stay in the capital.

It is a long trip to Gusu, made longer by the use of a carriage. Nie Huaisang is not a skilled enough rider to travel so far on horseback. His father had never seen the point of letting him learn until recently, stating a servant had no need for it. As slow days pass, Nie Huaisang entertains himself by chatting with his own servant (a man who until recently was not just his equal but his superior due to seniority), by admiring the landscape (it is his first time leaving Qinghe and its mountains, and the plains they traverse fill him with unease until they approach Gusu and new mountains save him from the oppressive flatness), and by wondering what will become of him in the capital.

Although they’ve all been quick to blame Nie Mingjue, as he travels toward Gusu and falls prey to boredom, Nie Huaisang allows himself to form another theory regarding his sudden summoning. It is only a fantasy, a silly idea, but he cannot stop thinking about that handsome young man with the mismatched robes he’d seen in his brother’s room that night. He had introduced himself as being part of the imperial family, and was of an age with the emperor, so he might have just enough influence to make a request to the son of heavens. For example, a request to have a certain seventeen years old bastard sent to the capital so they can continue their conversation.

It’s ridiculous, and Nie Huaisang sternly scolds himself whenever his thoughts go in that direction. But he cannot help himself. That young man had smiled so nicely, he’d laughed at Nie Huaisang’s weak jokes, he’d been much more polite than anyone ever bothered to be, and he’d said that he hoped to see him again. Wouldn't it be a lovely story if Nie Huaisang had made such a strong impression? He’s certainly thought a lot about that young man, even before the letter arrived. That imperial relative had been so handsome, his mouth so made to be kissed. His personality had been pleasant as well. 

In short, Nie Huaisang only wants the chance of a second meeting, and he’s quite certain he could fall in love with that handsome stranger.

-

Nie Huaisang’s cousin welcomes him with little warmth, but that’s only to be expected. On his only recent visit to Qinghe, Nie Funyu has made it quite clear that he does not approve of his relative’s decision to elevate a mere bastard, and a servant’s son at that, to the position of legitimate son. So after perfunctory welcomes, some exchanges of gifts, and the usual questions about everyone’s health, Nie Funyu abandons Nie Huaisang to the care of his personal servant, a young man by the name of Meng Yao.

Meng Yao and Nie Huaisang immediately strike a great friendship, in spite of their difference in status. It is something Nie Huaisang knows he will be scolded with, but he sympathises too much with servants, and forgets he no longer is one. Still, it would be hard not to like Meng Yao who shows him around the house, gives him rules to follow, advises him how to best please his uncle, and even shares some news about Nie Mingjue. They’ve missed each other, it turns out; Nie Mingjue left the capital only two days before his brother arrived, unable to delay his return to the border a moment longer.

That first morning is quite pleasant. Then, after a refined lunch, Meng Yao informs Nie Huaisang that he has been instructed to urgently take him to buy a better set of robes. The ones he’s brought are his best ones, but while they’re good enough for Qinghe, they just won’t do for Gusu, and especially not for a presentation to the emperor. How the emperor already knows that Nie Huaisang is in the capital, or indeed why he should care, is a mystery to both of them. But a message has already reached Nie Funyu’s house that his young cousin is to come to the imperial palace the next day, so the emperor might see for himself the younger brother of his dear friend Nie Mingjue.

It is not to be a formal meeting. After all Nie Huaisang holds no office, he is nobody, so there is little need for him to be introduced to the emperor the way a true son of noble blood would be. Instead, Nie Huaisang is encouraged to be present in a certain garden with his cousin at a certain hour, where the emperor might see him, and perhaps even acknowledge his presence, provided that nothing more important comes up.

That Meng Yao finds suitable robes on such short notice says a lot about his skill. Nie Huaisang, who had briefly wondered how a man barely three or four years older than himself could have become such a high ranking servant in so noble a house, finds his question answered and promises himself to learn from his new friend, so he can better serve his father when he returns home. To make it better, the robes that Meng Yao found are gorgeous. They’re second hand, since nothing new could have been found under such a delay, but they fit Nie Huaisang wonderfully, and make him look like he is worthy of being his father’s son. 

Nie Huaisang’s vanity is only increased the next morning when Meng Yao takes it upon himself to help with his hair. Nie Huaisang has always done that on his own, and his servant is not trained into that sort of task, so he is again grateful to Meng Yao for his help, especially when he’s so nervous that his hands tremble.

“What sort of man is the emperor?” Nie Huaisang asks as Meng Yao crafts elegant braids into his hair.

“Master says he is very wise for his age, and knows to carefully listen to his advisors before making decisions. He does his best to be impartial, and to listen to all sides of a story before passing judgement. Truly we are blessed to have such an emperor, he is far more dedicated to his people than his father was.”

“But as a person?”Nie Huaisang insists, chewing on his bottom lips. “Is he nice? He has to be, or Mingjue wouldn’t like him so much, but…”

Meng Yao smiles as he gathers the braids into a bun, and secures an elegant guan upon Nie Huaisang’s head, making him look like someone who isn’t him. Like someone who knows how to give order without doubting they'll be obeyed, and who has never cleaned a single pot in his life.

“Young Master Nie need not worry about the emperor’s personality,” Meng Yao says, stepping back to admire his work with a critical eye, before pulling in his robes a little here, straightening his collar there. “Young Master Nie is unlikely to have any occasion to meet his imperial highness after today. Even this encounter today will only happen as a mark of favour to your brother, and his imperial highness will most likely only address my Master, as you are not of a rank to be taken notice of.”

That is enough to quiet Nie Huaisang’s nerves a little. Enough at least to eat something and drink some tea before they set out toward the imperial palace. On the way there, Nie Funyu gives him a dozen orders, telling him how to conduct himself, how to stand, where to look, how to speak. It is clear he expects Nie Huaisang to make a fool of himself, and he might be right, but Nie Huaisang is determined to try his best to please everyone. Without Meng Yao’s comforting presence to calm him, his nerves are getting the better of him again, though it helps to remind himself that the emperor doesn’t care one bit about him. 

But also, if that young man with the pleasant smile is there, if he looks at Nie Huaisang, if he smiles at him again…

A foolish hope, when so many people live in the imperial palace. But it is a hope to which Nie Huaisang clings desperately. If they should meet again, if they could become acquainted… It is all Nie Huaisang really thinks about as his cousin and him head for the garden where they’ve been ordered to go, as they wait for the emperor to appear. 

At the time given to them, the emperor comes for a walk, heading their way. He is a young man, not much older than Nie Huaisang himself, but that much he already knew, since the son of heavens only came of age that year. What Nie Huaisang didn’t know, what he could never have imagined, was that the emperor should have such a warm smile, or that he would look even more beautiful when he isn’t soaked from heavy rains and wearing mismatched robes.

-

What passed during that brief meeting, Nie Huaisang could hardly say. He remembers only that the emperor smiled at him, called him by his name, and expressed the wish to become better acquainted with him, perhaps over a game of weiqi someday.

Nie Huaisang doesn’t know what he said in answer. He thinks he accepted both the offer of friendship and the invitation to play, if only because to refuse would have been impossible.

He doesn’t see the dark expression on his cousin’s face as they head back home, and barely hears the questions asking if he’s met the emperor before, where, what he said, what the emperor said. Nie Funyu isn't happy with the answers he's hearing, but Nie Huaisang hardly notices that either.

“Your father will have to be notified of this immediately,” Nie Funyu says when they are home again. “If the emperor has that sort of plans… well, the timing is not bad. We need his full support, and this isn’t a bad way to obtain it. Tomorrow you’ll go again with Meng Yao to buy another set of new robes. He’ll know how to dress you to your advantage.”

Nie Huaisang, touched by such generosity, can only nod and thank his cousin, before asking to be excused for the afternoon. It has been a while since he’s had a worthy opponent while playing weiqi, he wants to read about strategy to refresh his memory.

He also wants to be alone, just so he can laugh at himself a little.

To think that for weeks now, he’s been daydreaming about kissing the emperor! It’s the funniest thing in the world, and it should be a good lesson to him about letting silly emotions get out of control.

After all the emperor might be handsome, and he might have a pleasant smile, but he’s the emperor, and quite out of reach for someone like Nie Huaisang.

[ilovebeing-weird]

Have a Coffee

Chapter-3

Chapter-1 Chapter-2

So, people who like angst. There won't be much angst here. I hate it! There would be hurt/comfort at best. This is going to be a fluffy story. And if I get anything wrong in the airport scenes, it's because idk how they work. Never been to an airport.

"Flight 204, to New York, from Air France will leave soon. Passengers please board the plane. Flight 204....." The voice was heard from the speakers

"Queenie, it's our flight. Let's go." Marinette called Chloe, who was busy fighting with a person, because he didn't recognise her and it's 'ridiculous, utterly ridiculous'

"Hmph, you better keep up with the celebrities. I am the Chloe Bourgeois. The only daughter of Style Queen, Audrey Bourgeois. The person who has her own amazing business. The best friend of cocci-"

"Chlo!" Mari put her hand to prevent her from speaking more than necessary. "Our flight, let's go."

"Oh"

"Je suis désolée Monsieur." (I am sorry sir)

"C'est bon." (It's okay)

"Let's go Chloe."

"I can't wait to go to New York! It's gonna be sooo much fun! I am so excited" Adrien squealed heading towards his seat

"When are you not excited?" Kagami asked rolling her eyes at her boyfriend's behavior

"Don't put your cloudy shade over my sunlight." Adrien said dramatically, in response Kagami again rolled her eyes.

"If you think I am such a rain cloud, why are you dating me?"

"Because I love you, Duh!"

Kagami's face went as red as a tomato.

"Aww, you're blushing!"

"No, I am not."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I am not."

"Yes-"

"Guys as cute as you are, can we just please move." Luka said moving to his seat

"Sorry Lukes."

"Luka-bear, window seat is mine."

"I know Bee."

"Mari, you get the aisle seat. And Lu you'll have to sit in the middle." Chloe pointed to everyone's seat

"Yes Queenie!" Marinette saluted

"Perfect, now I will sleep for hours, I need my beauty sleep after all. If I will get dark circles it will be ridi-"

"RIDICULOUS, UTTERLY RIDICULOUS" All of them yelled

"Melody, your soul mark is in English, right. Maybe you'll find your soulmate here."

"Oooooh"

"Yeah, probably. My luck is not that good though."

"Don't lose hope yet Marinette, who knows maybe something good will happen."

"Maybe"

"The flight is ready to take off, passengers please wear their seatbelts. The flight is ready to…"

"I think we should get seated." Kagami took her seat "And Mars, don't worry, you will find your soulmate soon. It's destiny."

"You're right. It's destiny."

They all got seated, and Marinette was dying from lack of her coffee.

"I need my coooooffeeeee."

"No, sleep."

"Coffeeeee."

"Mel, for the last time, Sleeeeep!! Please."

"But I don't wanna. I have work-"

"That can wait. I am sure your clients will understand. And even if they won't I am sure you're ahead of your schedule." Marinette opened her mouth to say something but closed it again, it happened for a good three minutes before she gave in.

"......fine."

"Good"

"but you are working as my mannequin later."

"If it gets you to sleep."

"Why are you obsessed with making me sleep?"

"Because I care." Came his soft reply.

~After 5 hours~

"Marinette~ Where are you?~" A maniacal voice was heard

"Marinette! Answer me before I come there! Guess I will have to teach you another lesson!"

"Why don't you just die, you stupid piece of shit?" A punch

"Why are you even alive?" A kick

"You're nothing more than a waste of space." A push and marinette fell to the ground

"Nobody ever loved you, and nobody ever will! You don't even have a soulmate!" Marinette tried to say something, deny it, tell them that she had one, but she couldn't "And your "friends" they just hang out with you for pity!"

"I can't even believe I was friends with you!"

"You're nothing more than a jealous bully!"

She tried to do something, anything! But she wasn't able to, it was almost like she was bound by an invisible force.

"I hate you! I can't believe I was besties with you! You are just a liar and a bully!" Another kick, it didn't hurt. Not more than their betrayal.

"Asshole!"

"Bitch!"

"Slut"

"Waste of time!"

She sat there, listening to them. All of their insults, she didn't care. Not anymore.

"Guess I will have to put an end to it all, huh? I feel sad, you were a good playtoy." Her da-, no Mr.Dupain said, and the knife came down, she was screaming but no sound came out

"Marinette!" Huh? She didn't die?

"Marinette!" Adrien, she recognized the voice

"Marinette!" Marinette woke up with a shock

"What happened?"

"You were screaming and thrashing in your sleep."

"Oh, I had a nightmare." Adrien wiped her tears, she'd been crying? She didn't know.

"Wanna talk about it?" No she didn't, it will make it all real. It would bring flashbacks and she would have a panic attack.

"Not really." It was good that Adrien respected her wishes and didn't push it. "How long till we reach?"

"Uh, it's been five hours, so I am guessing three hours more. You wanna eat something?"

"N-" Adrien cut her off

"You know what? You do want to. You will obviously deny it, but I am not gonna let you starve."

"Why are you all like this?"

"Like what? So caring and such good friends? You deserve it."

"I hate you, each one of you."

"Aww, you know you love us! You looove us"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Mari rolled her eyes. She knew she loved them, they knew she loved them. They all loved each other, platonically obviously. But, there was a part of her which always wondered if they hung out with her just because they pitied her. They wouldn't do that, right?

Would they?

Finally almost eight hours passed, she had eaten and now she was working on some new designs while her friends slept peacefully.

"There has been a technical issue, the flight would land right here, in Gotham. Passengers are required to please wear their seatbelts and not panic."

WHAT!? The flight had to make an abrupt stop at Gotham at all of places, the fucking CRIME CAPITAL!! Oh no, oh no, OH HELL NO! This is a disaster, this is a disaster, a disaster. Wasn't luck supposed to be on her side? Did the miraculous mean nothing?

She quickly wore her seatbelt and checked all of her friends' too before waking them up.

"Umm, guys, there has been a technical issue, the flight's gonna land now, so you may wanna wake up." It didn't work, the formal and polite option didn't work "GUYS WAKE UP! THE FLIGHT'S GONNA LAND RIGHT NOW IN GOTHAM!" That worked! It jolted awake all of them.

"Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!!"

"You've got to be kidding me!"

"In the fucking crime capital?!"

"Maybe it is destiny." Marinette gave Luka a weird look that said 'are you crazy or something?'

"Maybe you will find your soulmate here."

"Of fucking course. In the crime capital. Maybe my soulmate is a criminal too, huh?"

"Don't be such a pessimist Mari, there are good people too in Gotham."

"So any idea what we wanna do?" Marinette asked once they were out of the plane.

"Let's order a cab to New York?"

"Yeah, let's do that. Let me check the cabs… There's no cab available for where you wanna go….. " Blood drained from Adrien's face as he read that.

"So, we are forced to stay in Gotham?"

"Kinda"

"Well what should we do now?" Luka gained their attention

"Let's go shopping!!" Chloe, obviously, cheered "Before either of you deny, Kags, you need new clothes, no offense, but you really have a bad fashion sense. Luka-bae, I need you to carry my bags. Adri-kins, Kags need you. And Mari-bear, you have a good fashion choice." Luka and Adrien sighed, guess they have to carry their bags forever.

"I don't know Chlo, I really need some coffee and have to do some work. I guess I will go to a café instead." Marinette said sheepishly

"Hmm, if you say so." Marinette was genuinely surprised that she let her off the hook. Usually she would be dragged with them. "You can send us your location and we'll meet you there in two hours?"

"Sounds like a plan."

"Okay, bye, don't have a overdose~"

"Bye queenie!"

"Now let's find a café with an internet connection and quiet environment." She quickly searched all the café near her, fortunately the nearest café was within walking distance.

She walked for ten minutes before she reached the café "coffee and joy" apparently this café has amazing coffee and the batfam, mostly Red Robin, always comes here. The atmosphere was good, not too crowded but enough for it to be good.

She walked inside, it was good. As soon as she walked in she was greeted by the fragrance of coffee. The circular tables had plants on the side, couples were talking and chattering. There were families enjoying themselves, and a person who was typing away on his computer, huh, he almost looks dead. Well, who was she to judge, she was sure she looked the same while she was working.

She went to order. The workers there were happy and cheery. Weird, this is Gotham. Aren't people supposed to be gloomy and annoyed here? Well, Paris, the supposedly city of love, the people there are--the ones she knows the rest she is sure are good--are evil. She is not even exaggerating.

"Hi! How can I help you today?" The worker, she learnt the name was Sam, asked her.

"Hey can I get a black coffee with…..eight espresso shots? thank you!" The worker looked shocked, obviously anyone would be shocked if someone ordered this much caffeine. She muttered something that she couldn't quite make out but it sounded like 'there's three of them' . What did she mean by three of them? Eh, whatever.

"What name should I write on the cup?"

"Marinette." Marinette, the only reminder of her fam- the people she lived with. The name that was given to her by her grandma that she loves dearly. At Least her grandparents are good people.

"Okay, why don't you wait and I will call you?"

"Sure" She went to the table in the corner. So she would not grab any attention but will be able to go to the counter easily when called.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tim was having a sucky day. Firstly, he was almost late to the meeting because Bruce thought it was good to let him sleep in. Fuck you Bruce! I don't need to sleep. Then Alfred banned coffee. Why? Because apparently he had a little too much coffee. Thirdly, his brothers were still obsessed with making him sleep, he already slept last night!

"Ughhh" Tim groaned, luckily his favourite café was just around the corner. He would go and grab some coffee there and work in peace.

Upon entering the café he was greeted by the sweet fragrance of coffee. Oh, how much he loved it. If he didn't find his soulmate he would marry coffee. Bruce wouldn't have a problem, right?

"Hey Sam!" Tim greeted the always cheerful barista

"Hey Mr. Drake. Your usual?"

"Yep."

"It will be ready soon!"

Thanking her Tim made his way to his usual table and took out his laptop to go over the meeting details. After a minute or so grabbing his coffee and feeling alive again Tim started working on the documents. He was so lost in his world that he didn't realise someone coming in. Only when her name was called did he realise that.

Out of curiosity, Tim looked at her, and what he saw was something he would remember forever. That woman was beautiful. He knew that it was wrong, he knew that he had a soulmate, he knew he should wait for them wherever they are, but he also knew that he felt a connection with her, he also knew that he had to take his chance. So that's what he'll do.

Waiting for a while to gather some courage and thinking about what to say. He started to make his way to her. Only to be stopped by her sad expression, she was angry, mostly sad looking at her laptop. Huh, looks like she's not having a great day. He decided that he will go to her with coffee, after all what was something that coffee couldn't solve. He ordered two coffees for them, he knew that her order was the same as his.

He took a deep breath and made his way across the café to her and offered her the beverage in his hand. "Having a rough day?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette was relieved that she got her coffee. She hasn't had any since morning. Why does the world have to be sooo unfair to her!? Opening her laptop she found some new commissions…..and some emails from her old class. Can they just suck it and move on? How childish can anyone be.

She knows that she shouldn't be but she was sad looking at it. She was just about to delete them when a voice startled her.

"Having a rough day? Have a coffee, It will make it better." Marinette being Marinette jumped at the voice.

"Ahh! You scared me! Wait a second….. You are my soulmate! Thanks for the coffee by the way." As soon as their hands touched there was a golden glow around them, a welcoming glow.

"Hey, soulmate. I am Timothy Drake-Wayne please call me Tim."

"Hey Tim, I am Marinette. Nice to meet you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Marinette." Tim kissed her knuckles to which she responded by blushing.

@legodetectivemalsblog