#Supreme Commander of my heart

[viserya-firstofhername]

Hear me out, I am not saying anything in particular, yet I am saying some matters which I may elaborate upon in times to come.

[beastsovrevelation]

Hearing anyone else than Michael get called Commander of the Heavenly host makes me so viscerally angry I want to rip my own chest open.

Which means, as I've said before, my girl should behead Metatron, disembowel Aziraphale (for being an usurper), and knock out Gabriel's teeth (for being a previous usurper, not to mention disrespecting her).

Isn't Good Omens a fascinating show, huh?.. Somehow, it made a real life Satanist into Archangel Michael's greatest fan and most ardent defender.

[earlgreydream]

SAVIOR. | Kylo Ren x reader

Some enemies to lovers(?) on Mustafar, for my love, @little-diable

for @little-diable's 15k celebration ... Kylo Ren, Smut, Page 66 ..... „The air felt hot and dusty.” From The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires

cw: dubcon

Mustafar.

You were naive to think you could escape.

The air felt hot and dusty, choking you as you ran through burning trees. It felt like every nightmare you’d ever had — the ones you couldn’t wake up from, knowing you were prey with nowhere to run. Your heart slammed in your chest, pulse echoing in your ears as your wild eyes darted around, desperately searching for an escape.

Limbs of trees reached out to scratch you as you ran through the forest fire, everything a haze of red. Desperation to outrun those who scorched the planet made you fearful, knowing there was no real escape.

“You’ve got nowhere to run, rebel.”

The words echoed in your mind, not spoken aloud, but directly to you, through a divine power. Invisible hands halted your attempt to escape, slamming your body into the ground.

Kylo Ren watched you fight to breathe as you inhaled the dust, unable to escape the grasp of his force. He towered over you, face-to-face for the first time since Coruscant, when you were still undercover as a member of the First Order.

“Don't do this, Ren,” you hissed, staring up at the supreme leader, who had burnt down the planet and everything in it just to catch you.

“You’ll be made an example to anyone who dares to defy me,” Kylo swore, the hot blade of his lightsaber singing just inches from your throat.

Your chest heaved, wild eyes watching Kylo, waiting for his red fire to cut through you. The summer heat filled you with dread, watching Kylo stand over you with hate in his eyes.

Coruscant.

Things were different, then. What transpired only months ago seemed to be an entirely different life, lived by someone else. In a sense, it was.

Coruscant was the mission you never wanted. When you’d dedicated your life to the resistance, you didn’t anticipate being sent undercover to infiltrate the First Order. You wore the mask of an enemy, blending in and becoming someone else until you forgot who you were entirely.

The objective was simple: move your way up in the First Order, and gain the trust of Kylo Ren. Your mission was to gather intel to feed back to the resistance; when your commanders had assigned it, they pictured you sitting in meetings, taking notes on the outskirts of Kylo’s militia. At the time, the Jedi order thought they could trust you, and you thought you could trust them. Before Coruscant, you had no idea of the power you possessed, the power the rebellion kept a secret from you.

When Kylo Ren first laid eyes on you, the plan crumbled to dust. The moment you stepped into the throne room, you could feel it — the pull of the force pricking the edges. Kylo felt it too, your heart beating in sync as he failed to pry into your mind like he did with every other being.

“Leave us.” The command to the knights was sharp, the room clearing until you were the only one standing before him.

“Where have you come from?” Kylo Ren had once seemed menacing on his throne, adorned in a crimson glow. Now, his expression was pure curiosity, gazing at you with startlingly disarming eyes.

“Naboo, master Ren,” the reverence came naturally, and you found yourself lowering to your knees at his throne.

“It is an honor to serve The First Order,” your voice sounded foreign on your lips, speaking words you never intended to say.

Kylo reached forward, tilting your chin up until he held your gaze, studying every detail of your unfamiliar face. He was captivated by you, your mystique raised curiosity, not alarm. Nothing happened on his ship that he didn’t know about, but you, a young soldier from Naboo was unexpected.

“You wield the force?” He questioned, puzzled by the inability to tear apart your thoughts.

“No, master.”

“But you can, padawan, you’ve just not been taught,” Kylo answered, having no knowledge of the crack he’d sent through your alliances.

The Jedi order would have recognized the great power you possessed, even as you didn’t recognize it in yourself. Your gifts had been kept a secret, but here was Kylo Ren, a man meant to be your enemy, offering truth and guidance you were deprived of. The resistance and its leaders had deceived you, a betrayal far deeper than a political alliance. They had kept you from destiny, fearing that the ability to wield the force would lead you into darkness, having no idea you would one day learn to harness your power from the ruler of the Empire.

“I can show you the ways of the force," Kylo’s voice was smooth, pulling you to his outstretched hand, an invitation to leave everything else behind and stand at his side.

You didn't recognize yourself in the reflection of Kylo's eyes. Instinctively, you took Kylo's outstretched hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

.

"You have had no teacher?" Kylo questioned, the two of you standing in an empty room in the Star Destroyer.

He looked so different out of his suit, more relaxed in simple training robes. Here, Kylo didn't seem to be the menacing overlord that you'd once saw. With you, he was different, an attentive and guiding master.

"No," you shook your head, confliction slowly eating away at you.

The more hours you spent learning from Kylo, the less you wanted betray him. Your alliance to the order you'd spent a lifetime fighting for was broken, and now you sought solace in him. Your allegiance to Kylo bloomed as your abilities grew, and the hard walls around him slowly came down, letting you in. Even as he opened up about who he was, you kept the secret of your origin, praying every night that he didn't have to find out.

Your lost soul found a home in Coruscant, lines blurring between you and Kylo as you spent intimate hours meditating and practicing. His hands that were once your waist to position your body, guided you until you found yourself pressed between Kylo’s strong body and his mattress. 

The first time Kylo took you to his bed, he was tender, attentive to your pleasure. As your addiction to him grew, so did the constant need for one another. You begged Kylo to fuck you with his hand around your throat, bending you over the closest surface because you couldn’t get enough. Every second with Kylo was sexually charged, craving him like a drug. He was your teacher, your solace, your lover, and your savior — before you knew it, Kylo became everything to you. 

Kylo Ren changed when you entered his existence. He had never experienced a love like you, constantly starving for your touch. 

In a year, everything fell apart. 

You’d long forgotten the Jedi, your allegiance, and your mission, until the day they invaded Coruscant. What you would never be able to forget was the betrayal on Kylo's face when they called you their commander. You could no longer run to your savior, nor to your fellow jedi, so you ran away, alone, to Mustafar.

.

Mustafar.

You wrists were held behind your back with imperial binders, and you were completely naked - save the collar that Kylo had clasped around your throat. You glared up at him from your kneeling position at his feet, chest heaving as you struggled against his force keeping you still at his mercy.

Part of you yearned to throw yourself at him, begging for forgiveness, explaining to him that you had abandoned the resistance to follow him. You ached to tell him that every night you spent in bed with Kylo made you fall more in love with him, that you'd rather perish than live without him another day, but the words died in your throat.

Your words would do no use anyways - Kylo had made up his mind to make an example out of you, to humiliate you before the entire First Order.

Your skin burned as you felt the eyes of his knights on your body as they filed into the room, taking their places around the table. You couldn't hide from them, your sins and entire self exposed to those you once ruled over.

"Our little rebel traitor is going to pay for her sins," Kylo's voice was ice cold, sending a shudder down your spine.

Instinctively, you leaned back into Kylo's legs, subconsciously searching for shelter. He grabbed the back of your neck in one of his large hands, hauling you to your feet, dark eyes blazing down at you, starvation and thirst clouding his judgement.

"Get on the fucking table, now," he growled, manhandling you onto the cold metal surface, your wrists above your head as you laid spread out.

"Since you'll sell yourself to the jedi and the empire, my knights can have you as well."

He sank back into his throne, draped lazily over the armrests, legs parted to reveal how hard he was just from the sight of your nude form dripping on the table.

You strained against the binders on your wrists, hating yourself for how wet you were just knowing Kylo was watching, the knights pulling your legs apart as one knelt between your legs.

You helplessly watched Kylo as Vicrul's hands wrapped around your soft thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your sex, pulling a pathetic whine from your lips. You hated him for it - hating him for making your hips raise, begging for more as he ate you out, sucking on your clit and pushing thick fingers inside of you. Your muscles contracted around you, other knights groping your body, playing with your nipples and gagging you with their fingers.

Meanwhile, Kylo watched, freeing himself from the black trousers that hugged his thick thighs. You watched as he stroked his cock to the sight of you, fighting not to come immediately from the filthy noises the knights pried from your parted lips.

You ached for him to fill you, your cunt throbbing with need, despite the overwhelming touch of the knights, ripping orgasms from you despite how hard you fought against it. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying out to him, calling his name as your back arched off the table, gasping for air.

Your ears were ringing, and all at once the knights retreated from you, exiled from the room by Kylo. He stood abruptly, dark robes falling from his shoulders, his strong body fully on display for you. You felt the binders release your wrists, and you pulled your limbs to your body, trembling on the cold table.

"I didn't betray you," you rasped, knowing Kylo could read your mind, prying through your thoughts and your memories, allowing him in.

He said nothing, approaching you slowly. Kylo grasped your jaw, holding your head up, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"You will never run from me again."

"Yes, master."

Kylo's lips were hot and heavy against yours, pulling you into his body, kissing you violently. He'd had every intention to take you back to his chambers, but the second you touched, he couldn't resist, climbing over you on the table in his throne room.

His hand hooked under your knee, pushing it to your shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance. He ignored your whimpering pleas, taking his time, marking your throat with his lips. All the air left your lungs as he finally pushed inside you, much bigger than all of the knights who had violated you only moments before.

Your back arched as he split you open, pressing your chest to his, your hands pulling his thick black hair. He bottomed out, his hips pressed against your ass. Kylo hushed you, wrapping an arm around your torso before fucking you at a blistering pace. It was desperate and violent with need, tearing you apart for leaving him, and putting you back together all at once. You felt his velvety skin drag against your walls with every thrust, Kylo using the force to circle your clit so he could keep both hands on you.

His skin was slick with sweat, black hair sticking to his forehead as he moaned, biting your shoulder and burying his face in you, his thrusts stuttering as he filled you until cum was spilling out and smearing between your thighs.

"I'm not finished with you," he panted as you sank back into the surface, trying to catch your breath.

Kylo flipped you over so he was lying on his back, your knees on either side of his wide hips. You could barely hold yourself up, muscles shaking as you leaned over him.

"Kylo, I can't—"

"Ride me." He commanded, leaving no room for argument or protest.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around your throat, holding you up as you rolled your hips, feeling his cock twitch inside you, moving easily despite your trembling thighs.

"Look at me. Watch yourself take your master," Kylo's other hand lightly smacked your cheek, prompting you to open your eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment.

You wrapped your hands around his wrist for leverage, thankful his other hand was helping your hips, before obeying his wish. Your gaze fell, watching him disappear inside your body every time you sank down, feeling him set fire to every nerve ending in your body, your limbs screaming for release. Kylo held your weight, guiding you to finish until you collapsed on his chest, aftershocks shuddering through your weakened body.

"You'll have to earn back your place at my side," he tilted your chin up, dark eyes showing the slightest bit of mercy.

"I'll do anything," you breathed, chasing his mouth for a kiss.

"Start by getting on your knees."

[shiplessoceans]

Good Omens S2 Episode 6 confession scene speculation:

Aziraphale didn't respond to the love confession from Crowley because he didn't realise it was one until Crowley mentioned the Nightingale and kissed him.

Allow me to explain.

---

Aziraphale interrupted Crowley to give him the news from Metatron, so when Crowley starts his spiel:

"We've been together a long time, I could always rely on you...we're a group....we've spent our existence pretending we aren't...if Gabriel and Beelzebub can go off together then we can...we don't need heaven/hell they're toxic...you and me whatya say?"

Aziraphale interprets everything Crowley is saying as his rebuttal to the 'good news', not a separate declaration of his feelings.

What Aziraphale just told him shaped Crowley's confession, instead of finally telling Aziraphale how he feels about him, he's now backed into a corner and trying to change Aziraphales mind. Offering to run off with him as the alternative to the Metatron's offer.

The repetition of the phrase: "go off together" from the bandstand fight in season one feels very intentional here. It would be easy for Aziraphale to think 'this is just Crowley's response when the divine plan interferes, he always wants to run away'.

Aziraphale believes that he just needs to make Crowley understand the situation and opportunity that this is and everything will be alright:

"Come with me! To heaven, I can run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference!"

Crowley is looking defeated already, in his mind he's bared his soul and Aziraphale is a brick wall. So if he can't tempt the angel into staying with the love he has for him (which Crowley thinks he's declared but he really hasn't), he'll get him to change his mind by evoking something else he loves:

"You can't leave this bookshop."

Aziraphale scoffs fondly. 'Silly demon, you were just suggesting we run off together and abandon it only a moment ago!' He thinks Crowley is trying to 'work' him here and the old serpent might even be selflessly trying to spare the angel the loss of his beloved bookshop in order to restore Crowley and help the world, which would be just like him to be so covertly protective. So Aziraphale reassures him, a bookshop doesn't matter to him as much as Crowley and the world. It's just a collection of objects really. Humanity is more important. Crowley is far more important.

"Oh Crowley, nothing lasts forever."

Crowley is crushed. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the two of them. So he covers his sadness with his glasses, walls back up, and he tries to leave.

Aziraphale is baffled. He just reassured Crowley that he was alright with change if it means things could be better. Why is Crowley leaving? Is he worried that they won't spend time together anymore? That he won't have time for his friend as a supreme archangel?

"Crowley come back!....we can be together, angels!...I need you!"

Crowley can't even look at him in that moment. Why would Aziraphale say that? The two of them together only if he accepts heaven again? Conditional love? That's not fair. It hurts.

Aziraphale meanwhile is hurt by Crowley's turning away, his silence and a bit incensed at what he perceives as ingratitude. Aziraphale didn't really want to go back to heaven, but he'd do it if it meant Crowley could be happy and safe and Crowley doesn't seem to appreciate that:

"I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."

Crowley went through the fall. He asked the questions. Did his best to protect humanity and it has brought him nothing but suffering. He's well aware what's on offer. He's seen heavens cruelty and capriciousness firsthand and been burned by it repeatedly. How can Aziraphale choose them over him and still think everything will work out?

"I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."

Crowley loves Aziraphale's big foolish optimism and kind heart and he thinks it's the very thing taking the angel away from him. This isn't how it was supposed to go. It's all slipping away from him.

"Listen. You hear that?"

Aziraphale can't even keep up at this point.

This is what comes of thousands of years of 'not talking about it' and living under threat of holy retribution if they are discovered. They're talking past each other, having two different conversations. Obfuscation and code has become their communication medium by necessity and it's failing them.

It's frustrating Aziraphale that he can't get a grip on this conversation:

"I don't hear anything!"

And Crowley drops the bomb.

"That's the point. No Nightingale's."

Oh. Suddenly we're on the same page. You can see from Aziraphale's face that he understands to what Crowley's referring. The Nightingale in Berkely square. Angels dining at the Ritz...

"You idiot! We could have been... us."

Crowley's talking about the big unspoken thing between them. Their relationship, thousands of years of dancing around each other like binary stars gravitationally and inexorably drawn together over and over. The thing Aziraphale was beginning to be bold about, (dancing notwithstanding) before Metatron came along and distracted him.

And it seems to Aziraphale that gut-wrenchingly, Crowley is finally acknowledging their mutual love only to point out that it's gone. Lost. They could have finally been together, an us, but Aziraphale ruined it because he's an 'idiot'.

After being quietly in love with Crowley for years, for Aziraphale to have his offer to return to heaven together and his unspoken love rejected in one fell swoop is devastating.

Overcome, he begins to cry and turns away, not wanting Crowley to see how hurt he is.

Crowley for his part is desperate. He has to do something. Maybe Aziraphale doesn't understand what Crowley is offering him! One fabulous kiss and va-voom right?

In a final desperate act, he kisses Aziraphale. Tries for passionate. Tries to show him that he loves him and show him what they could be because his words clearly aren't working.

Aziraphale is shocked and angry. He wants to kiss Crowley of course. But not like this. Not as a taunt. Crowley just told him their chance is over so what else could this be but a final insult. A kiss to punish the angel. It's a cruelty he didn't believe Crowley capable of.

And despite how mean it is. It's also what Aziraphale has wanted for so long he can't help but melt into it for a brief moment. Allow himself to feel what it would have been like to be that close before losing it forever.

Then Crowley lets go and Aziraphale breaks away on a sob, feeling wounded. Hurt beyond words that Crowley would use his feelings against him like this, gutted to be losing the man he loves and not understanding why.

The worst part is that Aziraphale doesn't have it in him to hate Crowley, even if he thinks the kiss was a cruel gesture. He still loves him. So he gathers himself and does what Aziraphale does when someone hurts him.

He forgives.

"I forgive you."

I forgive you for rejecting my attempt to restore you and make you happy, I forgive you for rejecting God and heaven yet again, I forgive you for acknowledging our love and then rejecting it. I forgive you for kissing me, giving me a fleeting glimpse of what we could have been to each other. I love you and I forgive you all that.

Crowley is done. Breath knocked out of him on a last sigh. He tried. And the Angel forgave him yet again for something he never asked or wanted forgiveness for. He doesn't want to be penitent for loving Aziraphale. Shouldn't have to apologise or regret wanting them to be together.

"Don't bother."

Aziraphale looks surprised Crowley is leaving because he genuinely is. He can't understand how it's all gone so horribly wrong. He gasps, shocked and can't even call out to him to stop, come back.

He cries, touches his lips where Crowley had kissed him. Tries to gather himself and barely has 10 seconds before Metatron is back.

At the end of that scene:

Crowley thinks he confessed his love and Aziraphale chose heaven over him because he didn't want to stop being a demon.

Aziraphale thinks Crowley rejected heaven, then rejected Aziraphale and threw their love back in his face as a final unkindness.

Aziraphale leaves and goes to heaven anyway because in his mind he's already lost Crowley and there is nothing left to stay for. If he doesn't have Crowley he needs a new purpose and it's going to be saving the world. He'll convince himself of it. And he'll push that broken heart down and the pain will fade if he just smiles through it. It will be enough, to make heaven better. It has to be. Maybe if he proves that he can make a difference Crowley might see the error of his ways and speak to him again? Surely. Hopefully.

---

Both of them are hurt and confused and lost and oh dear hell I really feel for them.

[cloudsmateria]

cloud strife x reader - new kitten!

summary: you surprise cloud with a kitten when he comes back from a mission, but of course, he hates cats.

this is so fluffy and omg i loved writing it it was so cute. look at this grump ass guy

(not proofread but i will proofread it tomorrow)

"I'm back." Cloud says as he comes in through the door, propping his sword up by the door. Bags are dropping from his eyes, so tired he doesn't notice your malicious grin as you come up to him wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him on the nose. 

"I missed you." You say, he flashes a smile of contentment as his arms go around your waist, pecking your forehead. 

"I missed you too." You pull away, leaving the kitten you hid behind his back on his shoulder. He hears a mew from his shoulder, tiredly turning to the noise. "Shit!" He shouts, jolting back, his back hitting the door as you quickly catch the kitten in your hands. "What is that?!"

"Kitten." You smile, lifting it up to his face as he presses himself against the door more, turning his head away. "It's so cute isn't it?"

"I leave you alone... For 2 days..." He breathes, closing his eyes.

"Correct, your leaving liberates me to make good choices."

"Maybe you're so taken by your despair that you don't think." He says slowly gathering the courage to face the kitten.

"You're cute." You push it against his face, as he cups his hand underneath it and sighs, looking at it in his hands. 

"I need a shower." He says, placing it on the bed and leaving. 

"You're not mad, right?" You ask, following him into the bathroom

"No, I'm just exhausted." He says, turning on the hot water.

"You're mad."

"Get out."

You frown, respecting his wishes and returning to the kitten, holding her close to your face. "At least I have you." By the time he's done, you're laying on the bed with the kitten on your chest as he comes out in his sweatpants and black shirt. "Cloud?"

He sighs and sits on the bed beside you, reluctantly moving to pet the cat with stiff, nervous hands. You feel relief wash over your chest as he tries his best. "You can't stay mad at me for long."

"I'm not mad."

"Then look at me."

He looks at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "What's the deal with the cat anyway?"

"I found her in a box on the side of the road, she was basically crying with her mews. I couldn't leave her there."

"But why do you have to keep it here? Why can't you give her to Aerith?"

"Because I love cats, this is our daughter now. We're parents!" You grin, hugging her close.

"You're ridiculous." He scoffs, laying down on his back, you take this as an invitation to curl up next to him and place the kitten on his chest.

"I know you're scared of cats."

"That is not true."

"You were acting like I threw a grenade on you." You giggle, he strokes the kitten's head more comfortably this time.

"We have enough scars as it is." And I have enough things taking up my girlfriend's attention, he thinks.

"Don't worry, she's a good girl. I was hoping you'd help me name her. What do you think about Empress of Despair?" He bursts out laughing.

"What?" He laughs.

"General Machine Gun."

"Where do you even get these names from?"

"Supreme Commander of the Kittens."

"Please stop."

"I have more." You grin. "Why are you laughing?"

"You’re ridiculous." He grins, his laughs calming down as you sit up on his waist.

"Why don't you come up with one then?" He looks down at the kitten, trying to think of something.

"How about... Cosmo?"

"So we're just naming her after a cocktail? That's disappointing, Cloud."

"Fine, how about..." He sighs. "Aerith?"

You snort. "Oh yeah, totally didn't see that coming. She's not an Aerith, she's a Cloud."

"That's a weird name for a cat."

"Not if it's a girl cat."

"Are you saying I have a girl's name?"

"Well..."  You smile, he holds a hand over his heart as he groans in pain. 

"The pain of it all, the betrayal."

"You certainly act like one."

"Ugh!" He jolts as if he's been punched. "Take it back." He groans, writhing in his place as the poor kitten stares confused at the both of you. You pick her up, laughing at him and getting off of his waist to sit with her in your lap.

"I think Cloud suits her well. Fluffy and white like a Cloud. Like both Clouds." You stroke the kitten's head.

"Really? She's stolen my girlfriend, and my name?"

"I think you should earn my affection back." You tease.

"Or we can just give the cat to Aerith and I keep my girlfriend."

"You're going to let Aerith steal the love of my life?"

"Love of your life, huh?" He smiles, sitting up.

"Of course! This is my offspring."

"You've only had her for a day and you're already forgetting about me. Come on, I just got back from a long mission and this is how you neglect me?"

"These are the responsibility that comes with having kids, sweetheart."

"I see how it is. Well, I'm sure that cat will love to see the inside of an alleyway again." He jokes.

"Don't listen to him, Cloud. He's not taking you."

"You don't know that." He reaches for her but you move back, defensively. He sighs. "Are we really going to keep her?"

"Yes, you have no choice."

"Well, I suppose having a kid with you wouldn't be so bad." Your stomach flutters at the statement. He shakes his head and laughs again. "You've taken over my apartment, my free time, my money, my friends and my autonomy."

"That's how girlfriends work."

"Psychopathic girlfriends."

"Watch your mouth before I take your will to live too."

"Too late, you took that a long time ago."

"What happened to the guy who was always blushing around me?"

"He was weak and died." He says. "And you're the psychopath that killed him." You snort, the way he's loosened up around you in the past few months of you dating has been surprising, but a wonderful side to him, being the only person he's this comfortable around. "What do I have to do to win you back?" He asks.

"1,000 gil." He laughs again. "Anything else?"

"A kiss."

"I'm not kissing a psychopath." 

"Unfortunately," You smile, leaning over his face. "I've taken away your autonomy." He leans up to peck your lips, taking the cat out of your hands and sitting up. "Cloud Strife." You say seriously.

"Mhm." He hums, stroking the cat.

"Do you love me?"

"No." He says simply, still petting the kitten.

"So when you told me before the mission started that you loved me, that was a lie?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And when we-"

"Yes." He says, nodding his head, the serious expression on his face making it hard for you to keep a straight face.

"You're so mean."

"You were just going to try get more money out of me, which is ridiculous when I've just let you keep this kitten."

"You're admitting she's staying?"

He scoops the kitten up, holding her against his face. "If we're keeping her, she's sleeping on the floor."

"Poor General Grievous." He laughs again, this time there's a knock on the door. 

"Come in."

Tifa walks in, her arms crossed. "What is going on in here? I don't think I've ever heard Cloud laugh in my life. It's terrifying. Y/n, what did you do to him?"

"This. This is what she did to me." Tifa sees the kitten in his hands, gasping, running over and grabbing her out of his hands. Followed by a series of repeated 'oh my gods' 'aww' 'she's so cute!'. You shake your head at Cloud. 

"You've only had her 10 minutes and you've already let her get kidnapped."

"All part of the plan."

"What did you name her? Oh, she's so precious. She looks just like Fluffy did."

"Y/n's stuck between General Grievous and Cloud Strife."

"You're terrible."

"A good one just came to me! Buster!" Cloud said.

"Yes!" Tifa shouted. 

"Fenrir!"

"No!"

"Okay, okay, how about General Nefarious," Cloud said, mimicking you.

"That's worse!" You say, throwing a pillow at his face.

"Buster. A good name for a kitten with two badass parents with two badass aunties." Tifa smiled.

"To clear it up, Cloud's a mommy and I'm a daddy and we're raising her to be the greatest kitten, no, creature in the universe." Cloud gave you a look of disgust, Tifa giggling as she played with the kitten. 

"I can't believe you didn't tell me right away."

"If you like her that much, you can have her." Cloud said.

"Cloud!"

"That offer still stands." He mouths to Tifa, she smiles and puts Buster back on his lap.

"Well, I have work tomorrow so you can figure that out among yourselves. See you later, mommy." She said, kissing the kitten on the head and making her leave.

"This is what I get for letting her come in. She calls me mommy. I can't imagine how you could make my life any worse." 

"I'll find a way, starting with letting you get some rest." You say, flipping the lights off, picking Buster up and going to put her in a makeshift box in the corner, made out of a box you found her in and blankets. You lay down beside him, and he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him, nuzzling into your neck.

"I hate you so much." He murmurs, kissing your neck, making your skin tingle.

"Oh really?"

"My girlfriend is the most annoying person in the world. It's not my fault."

"I'm going to make your life miserable."

"I've heard."

 You roll your eyes, kissing him one final time. "Goodnight."

"Night."

"I love you."

"Liar."

...

The next morning, you wake up and see Cloud with Buster snoring on his chest and a hand cradling her back…

Maybe he does like cats.

a/n: this is kind of shit but it was such a fun fic to write

[yawujin]

Hello

So I don't know if you're opposed to writing for the v2 boys but if you aren't

Could you please write v2 boys x s/o who is very hard working so when they get focused they forget to eat or drink water a lot &(if you're comfy trans male reader) they forget to take their binder off and rest.

Thxxxxxxxx

ofc i'll write the sdr2 boys i love them

request | sdr2 boys x an S/O who is hard working

type | react , light hearted , non killing game , established relationship , trans male reader

hajime hinata ♡

respects you for working so hard

always reminding you to take a break

hajime's a good listener so you can go to him to talk about work troubles you have

he secretly daydreams of another life where you two can just relax 24/7 so you do not have to worry so much about work

admires and appreciates all that you do

gets really excited when you finally finish your work for the day

kazuichi souda ♡

he gets it

relates to you bc he has had to stay up late working and fixing things

he learned the hard way that he must always keep water or something to hydrate himself while working

he's lowkey the type to ask "have you eaten yet?"

he cares sm about you

even though sometimes he also forgets to pack some lunch for himself for work lol

you two look out for each other always <3

fuyuhiko kuzuryu ♡

you already know he's the type to text you constantly throughout the day

"you're going to eat right?" "there has to be something in the vending machines there you can buy."

angry texts when you say all you had so far was some crappy instant coffee

even angrier texts when you tell him you're working after hours

always insistant on you taking a break (even if you just started working on something)

"i love you so much and if somehow someday you collapse while working i'll never forgive myself"

gundham tanaka ♡

orders you to stop working and take a break

no seriously, he orders you to take some time off

"the supreme overlord of ice commands you to STOP!"

he demands you come to bed and keep him warm

but first he reminds you to take off your armor (referring to your binder)

you still had it on oops

you just laugh a little bit and change

finally, you both can get some rest after a long day

nekomaru nidai ♡

he reminds you not to push yourself too hard

"it's kind of like training, you must know your limits!"

is willing to make a list for with designated times for breaks in your schedule

gets hyped up when you have a day off so you two can finally have a date/datenight

has a whole lot of respect for you and your ability to push through especially hard days

"just keep it in the back of your mind that i'll always be here if you need me for something, got it?"

ultimate imposter ♡

brings food to you

gently urges you to take a break

hugs from behind while you work

prefers it when you work from home

picks you up from work whenever he can

teruteru hanamura ♡

when you come home, the first thing he does is feed you

he makes all your favorite dishes ofc

he can always tell if you neglected yourself during work hours

"can't fool me, as your boyfriend i know what you need!"

keeps track of your days off incase you try to get a head start in working on something new

"nope sorry! can't have that today. you and i are due for a date at the diner"

sends you positive and encouraging and rather suggestive messages while you are at work

nagito komaeda ♡

very persuasive when he's trying to get you to rest after a long work day

you finally choose rest and nagito over more paperwork you need to sort out

"tomorrow's always there" he reassures you

"oh and, make sure to take that off" he says, looking at your binder

you almost finished changing without doing so

nagito gives you some affirmations while you drift off to sleep

"you work too hard..." he sighs sadly. "goodnight~"

⋆ ˚｡⋆ my ao3

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The Empire Thanks You For Your Service

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Slowly closing the door behind him, Supreme Admiral Narcus breathed a sigh of relief to be finally home.

It had been a night of celebration and triumph for many, yet the day’s events had taken their toll on him and now Narcus wished only for the comfort of his bed. Still, he was held to certain standards and as the victorious leader who had vanquished an entire human fleet he was hoisted up by both the military and civilian government of his people as a hero of the republic.

Warring with the human bipeds had gone on longer than expected and the republic had suffered many casualties. What had been planned as a short war had turned into a three year conflict of grueling attrition. Things were beginning to look grim until intelligence intercepted a coded message detailing a human fleet attempting to sneak through the Calaxi Nebula. Had they succeeded they would have bypassed several warning sensor nets and been dropped into the heart of republic manufacturing worlds, crippling the war effort with their destruction and all but ensuring their defeat.

Instead Narcus had held his fleet at the expected exit point the humans would use when emerging from the Nebula. When their ships emerged from the swirling gases, with their shields still lowered to avoid from passage through the Nebula, Narcus gave the command and every ship in his force opened fire. The leading human ships were reduced to debris fields before they could even get a single shot off. Some of them attempted to make a stand and push through Narcus’s formation, but the humans were trickling out of the Nebula rather than coming at him as a single force; their numbers were decimated in short order until after two hours of fighting the remaining humans turned tail and retreated back into the Nebula.

“I figured you to be one not for frivolous socialization.”

Narcus’s head snapped around to see a hooded figure sitting at his dining room table. Had they not spoken Narcus would have walked right passed the figure and wouldn’t even know with how well they clung to the shadows.

His hand reached for his side arm but the figure held up a hand.

“Relax, I mean you no harm.” They chuckled. “Besides, I doubt I even could as I am.”

The figure picked up a cup and tossed it at Narcus lazily. His hand snapped up to swipe it away only for it to phase through his hand and disappear entirely.

“Holograms.” Narcus muttered as realization finally dawned on him.

“A fast learner,” the figure chimed in, “perhaps that is how you bested my forces so easily.”

“Your forces?” Narcus asked. “Who are you?”

The figure casually flicked off their hood and the Supreme Admiral finally got a good look at the intruder.

“Human.” Narcus snarled.

The human laughed. “I must say I was expecting a bit more than simply “Human”.” They replied as they imitated the disgust Narcus had used for the word.

“One human is no different from the other.” Narcus replied as he approached the table. The human made no move to get up from their seat and instead gestured to the empty seat opposite them.

“Unless that is you are the ruler of all humans.”

Again they were expecting some reaction but Narcus’s face gave little reaction.

“Really?” the human sighed in a defeated manner. “I am Valarin Cassia, Emperor of the Terran Dominion.”

Like a drunkard finally snapping out of their haze Narcus’s eyes went wide. He had never seen a picture of the human ruler but he had heard of their name. Many of the ships he had fought against in the war had been named after this emperor and he had learned even more from captured soldiers who were interrogated.

“I was expecting someone……taller.”

Narcus adopted an attitude of indifference. He had dealt with such beings of status and position and the one thing they all shared in common was an enragement at jokes made at their expense. To his surprise the emperor laughed.

“That would be the work of my artificers. They tend to add three feet and remove ten pounds here and there.”

Their laugh was rich and to the Supreme Admiral’s surprise, genuine.

“Why are you here?” Narcus took the seat opposite Valarin and eyed the emperor. Perhaps it was because they were a hologram that they acted so flamboyant; free from the risk of any harm or danger.

The emperor extended his hands joyously as if to embrace Narcus. “Why to honor you for your victory of course!”

 He put his hands down as if looking for something before turning back sheepishly towards Narcus. “I would give you a toast but it seems I have thrown away my only cup.”

“Do humans pick the maddest amongst them to lead, or are you just a special case of stupidity?”

Whatever games the emperor was playing Narcus was too tired to play them.

The emperor shook his head and put his arms down. “I speak nothing but truth, you have achieved a great victory. Such things are acknowledged amongst my people.”

“A victory against your people.” Narcus chuckled, but the emperor merely smiled.

“If you say so.” They replied

The feelings of victory evaporated at the emperor’s words and he fixed them with a stare that had turned generals to sobbing puddles.

“What does that mean?” he demanded.

The grin of the emperor grew wider and Narcus could not help that he was a fly caught in a spider’s web.

“Do you know who was commanding that fleet?”

When Narcus shook his head Valarin continued. “General Atalia Decani, my most decorated commander. She was the one who came up with the bold strategy and refused any other to lead it.”

“Why do you celebrate the death of your strongest warrior?” Narcus asked bluntly. This never ending circling was infuriating and he wished the human would reach their point.

“I celebrate the death of my greatest rival.”

The Supreme Admiral’s eyes went wide for a moment before he recomposed himself.

“I do not understand.” Narcus spoke as the emperor leaned over the table, clasping his fingers together.

“I imagine your people have grown tired of this war as well.” Valarin began, “Mine have as well and that tiredness has grown into outward resentment of my rule. They equated the ongoing war to a….degree of failure on my part.”

“After seeing the broken wrecks of your ships I can understand why.” Narcus chuckled.

The emperor’s expression flashed for a moment, but a moment was all Narcus needed to see a deep murderous depth lurking just beneath the human’s disarming smiles. There was malice behind those eyes.

“Atalia was always a power hungry vagrant, and she latched on to that discontent and fashioned herself into a powerful political figure. She even had the gall to present her military plan directly to my senate and seek their approval over mine.”

“Typical human stumbling.” Narcus chimed in. “Hours and days of boasting yet when the time comes to act you fall flat on your faces. I foiled her plans just as easy as I would have yours.”

“Oh you don’t know the half of it.” Valarin chuckled. “Did you know she never planned to attack your worlds?”

For the first time Narcus was at a loss for words.

“You’re lying.”

“Nothing I’ve said yet has been one, why start now?” Valarin replied coyly. “Her plan was to surprise your worlds before sending a message to your republic’s leaders demanding a ceasefire.”

“A what?”

Valarin nodded at the dumbfounded Narcus. “Oh yes, she planned to use the threat of attacking your worlds as a bargaining chip to open negotiations which would eventually end with an armistice; thus ending the war entirely.”

 “If I had not…” Narcus stammered. As the emperor spoke Narcus felt all of the warmth leave his body, replaced by a cold abyss the likes of which he had never known. Peace had been nearly within their grasp yet because of Narcus’s actions… “….if we had never intercepted your transmissions.”

“Funny thing that.”

Narcus looked up to see the emperor standing beside him. He hadn’t even noticed him moving over beside him.

“Strange how the entire war you could never decrypt ours, yet when it came to the most important one of all you broke it like a baby’s spine upon your knee.”

“You…….you sent those messages!”

Valarin nodded in confirmation as the Supreme Commander stumbled from his chair, knocking it over as the weight of the situation finally came crashing down on him.

“I did, and you took the bait all the way to Atalia and decimated her and her entire fleet. Your slaying of her not only removed a powerful rival of mine, but also instilled a deep seated hatred towards your people amongst the populace that has rekindled their fighting spirit. They’ve been lining up in droves waiting to enlist into the renewed war effort.”

Valarin placed a hand on Narcus’s shoulder and…..he felt it. It did not disappear or fluctuate like the cup hologram had and the Supreme Admiral looked up at Valarin. He held out a strange medal in the shape of a golden star wrapped in a wreath of green leafs.

“I thank you for your service to the empire.” Valarin said gleefully as he put the medal into Narcus’s hand.

“You said you were a hologram.” Narcus managed to spit out as he realized he was truly before the human emperor.

Valarin shrugged and stepped back from the dumbfounded Supreme Admiral.

“I said the cup was, never I; until we meet again.”

The emperor showed a final smile before his entire person was swallowed by a blinding light. By the time Narcus’s eyes recovered he was standing alone once more in his home. He looked down at his hand at the golden medal.

It was clean as day, yet to Narcus he could smell the stench of blood drenching its every surface.

[thefeastandthefast]

I'm at episode 25 and wanted to gather together a few thoughts before the last third of Blossom airs. I've watched a range of good, bad, and mediocre TV this year, but only Blossom has short-circuited the killjoy critical (as opposed to the thoughtfully critical) part of my brain so effectively I'm able to access the delicious, immersive, electric pleasure of pure feeling.

Will Love in Spring got very close but I'm a costume drama girly at heart and dramatic hair, swishy cloaks, feudalism, and a fat degree of separation from everything that is relatable or relevant to my actual life gets me to that space most efficiently.

The direction and visual storytelling is assured and distinctive without drawing undue attention to itself (ahemTheDouble)- this darling director is supremely invested in the details that convey tension and passion. It's a big, unabashedly earnest, Romantic romance where the emotional trajectory of the relationship is communicated through the leads looking into each other's eyes with the intention of genuine discovery, paired with strong symbolic imagery (snow and ashes, stones thrown and ripples in the river, red and white ribbons on the magnolia tree, masks, blindfolds, cloaking as protection, the double swords, the spear, etc).

He draws out, dwells on, and offers up to us all the minute changes in the eyes of the leads, as these two characters transition slowly through the stages of their regard for each other, from suspicion to admiration to devotion. Think of for instance the scene (I think in 5? 7?) when Dou Zhao commands Song Mo to look into her eyes, hoping with everything for Wu Shan’s sake that he can read the truth there as he assesses her with cool calculation. Compare with the scene in 23 of their reunion, Song Mo’s eyes suddenly wet and gleaming, when he sees Dou Zhao in tears, the adrenaline faded, the belated fear, and relief at seeing him appear. In less capable hands it would be saccharine. But no- it’s expertly calibrated. I'm moved. I’m transported.

The director also knows exactly when to use a judicious bit of slow motion, just enough, not too much, to amp up the juiciness of action sequences and to underline a particularly swoony moment (that delightful bit when he lifts her over the brazier). And speaking of action sequences- I will always love my wuxia wirework but the action choreography here feels wonderfully grounded yet doesn’t skimp on heightened stylized beauty, making good use of Li Yunrui’s intensive combat movement and horsemanship training from the filming of Creation of the Gods.

And I thought I was tired of center-framed closeups of faces. But those two seconds in episode 23 focusing on Dou Zhao’s maid’s lip curl of disdain after slashing Duke Ying’s twitchy minion has changed my mind! “狗东西!”

And of course there's the lighting, the LIGHTING, THE LIGHTING. When the success of your romance hinges on people looking at each other, their eyes had better glow with meaning and intention and emotion. And HOW.

[mi-dori]

☆Intros with Mk characters about Kitana and Reader's relationship☆

●Prompt: Intros between reader and characters, Kitana and characters and reader and Kitana about their relationship

●Warnings: flirting, Slight possessive Kitana.

●Featuring: Raiden, Liu Kang, Sindel, Mileena, Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang

■MK1■

Johnny Cage and Y/n

♡Johnny: "You know... Raiden has a crush on Kitana. You better make your move"

Y/n: "Why would I when I already have her?"

♡Y/n: "You need to stop asking Kitana those inappropriate questions Cage"

Johnny: "Come on, I really wanna know who's top and who's bottom"

♡Y/n: "If you weren't so insufferable, you'd be able to find someone"

Johnny: "that's just my charm sweetness"

Johnny Cage and Kitana

♡Kitana: "What kind of gifts to y/n like?"

Johnny: "the best person to ask that is y/n herself"

♡Johnny: "You know, if you're up for it-"

Kitana: "We are not having a threesome Cage!"

♡Johnny: "I may have known her for a few months but if you're playing with y/n's heart, I'll royally kick your ass"

Kitana: "Relax Cage, there's nothing to worry about"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Raiden and Y/n

♤Raiden: "If I had known you and Kitana were together, I wouldn't have tried anything"

Y/n: "Don't worry I understand why you did that. She truly is a sight to behold"

♤Y/n: "Lord Liu Kang made the right decision choosing you as Earthrealm's champion"

Raiden: "I do hope I can live up to the title"

♤Raiden: "If you don't mind me asking, how are you managing a long distance relationship? With you being from earthrealm and Princess Kitana being from Outworld"

Y/n: "the distance is indeed hard Raiden but it makes our relationship grow stronger"

Raiden and Kitana

♤Raiden: "I didn't know you weren't straight.."

Kitana: "You sound disappointed Raiden"

♤Kitana: "Will you watch over y/n for me? I know how hard long distance relationships are"

Raiden: "You have my word, Princess"

♤Raiden: "Congratulations on becoming supreme commander. Y/n must be so proud"

Kitana: "She is! Though I hope I can live up to the task"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Liu Kang and Y/n

♧Liu Kang: "Kitana and you were destined to be together"

Y/n: "Are we also destined to be separated for so long?"

♧Y/n: "What was I like in your timeline?"

Liu Kang: "You were Kitana's childhood friend, only you understood her"

♧Liu Kang: "I must warn you, there are many who wish your and Kitana's downfall"

Y/n: "let them wish as much as they want. Kitana and I will overcome any obstacles"

Liu Kang and Kitana

♧Liu Kang: "As much as I am happy for you both, please do not distract y/n from her duties"

Kitana: "You think I'm a distraction to my consort?"

♧Kitana: "Was Y/n and I together in your timeline?"

Liu Kang: "I will not answer that"

♧Kitana: "Y/n is my everything"

Liu Kang: "then prove to me that you'll protect everything you have"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Sindel and Y/n

◇Sindel: "An earthrealmer with my daughter?"

Y/n: "I sense a great amount of dissatisfaction"

◇Sindel: "If you are to marry my daughter, it means you marry all of Outworld's customs and traditions"

Y/n: "Woah there empress, I think you're getting ahead of yourself"

◇Y/n: "what will it take for you to accept me?'

Sindel: "Alot which I know you don't have"

Sindel and Kitana

◇Sindel: "Does any of my children like men?"

Kitana: "Your children chose their happiness not a gender"

◇Kitana: "Mother, you're being too harsh with Y/n"

Sindel: "She is an earthrealmer. If outworlders come to learn of your relationship, you'll bring disgrace to the Royal family!"

◇Sindel: "How would you produce an heir for the royal army?"

Kitana: "We will find a way mother"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Mileena and Y/n

~Mileena: "My sister is no easy person to please"

Y/n: "I am up for that challenge, Empress"

~Y/n: "Outworld has an amazing Empress"

Mileena: "And my sister has a wonderful partner"

~Mileena: "Will you defend my sister tirelessly as you've defended me?"

Y/n: "I will give my life for her"

Mileena and Kitana

~Kitana: "Johnny is saying that you and Tanya can come on a double date with me and y/n"

Mileena: "what even is a double date?"

~Mileena: "Sister, if you're going to have company over, be quiet"

Kitana: "By the gods... you heard didn't you?'

~Kitana: "Mother doesn't accept y/n"

Mileena: "She's just looking out for you, sister"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Bi-han and Y/n

¤Bi-han: "the lin kuei will welcome you"

Y/n: "After you betrayed earthrealm you think I'd join you?!"

¤Bi-Han: "You have wasted potential. Just think of all the realms the two of us could rule"

Y/n: "First of all, my potential goes for a good cause which is the protection of my realm. Secondly, I'm not even into you!"

¤Y/n: "Because of you, we nearly lost Empress Mileena!"

Bi-han: "and now you're gonna lose your Princess"

Bi-Han and Kitana

¤Kitana: "My y/n will not fall for your wicked schemes"

Bi-Han: "I will make her realise how powerful she can be"

¤Bi-Han: "I don't understand why y/n would settle for someone like you when she could have someone like me"

Kitana: "I don't understand why anyone would ever think of you as an option of settling down"

¤Bi-Han: "soon, your precious y/n will be mine"

Kitana: "If you hurt a single strand of hair on her head, I will make sure you pay"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kuai Liang and Y/n

×Y/n: "I wish you and Harumi the best in life"

Kaui Liang: "As do I to you and princess Kitana'

×Kaui Liang: "The Shirai Ryu is hoping you'd join us"

Y/n: "Joining a clan sounds amazing. I'm in!"

×Y/n: "My Kitana is just like your Harumi'

Kuai Liang: "Then we both have excellent taste"

Kuai Liang and Kitana

×Kitana: "Y/n speaks very highly of you"

Kuai Liang: "She is an honored member of the Shirai Ryu"

×Kaui Liang: "I see y/n is completely smitten by you"

Kitana: "Oh my sweet y/n, she can be adorable yet clueless at times"

×Kuai Liang: "I hope to see you at my wedding"

Kitana: "You'll be seeing me as Y/n's plus one"

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Kitana and Y/n

❤️Kitana: "Please do not fall for Bi-Han's schemes. He's trying to corrupt you"

Y/n: "let him try. He'll only prove unsuccessful every time"

❤️Y/n: "Raiden has a crush on you"

Kitana: "Oh? I think he knows I belong to only you"

❤️Kitana: "what business does Cage have with you? He's getting extremely close"

Y/n: "he's like a brother, nothing more"

❤️Kitana: "So you're a member of the Shirai Ryu?"

Y/n: "I couldn't refuse Kaui's offer"

❤️Y/n: "I think Nitara is stalking me"

Kitana: "shall I mark you up to show everyone that you're mine?"

❤️Y/n: "Your mother doesn't seem to like me very much"

Kitana: "Do not worry about her. She's overprotective of me"

❤️Y/n: "Lord Liu Kang warned me that they'll be trouble along the way"

Kitana: "whatever they may be, let us face it together"

[quinnophile]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐈

pairing. emperor Geta x original character

description. In the heart of Rome, two brothers rule an empire on the edge of chaos. As Caracalla's mind continues to derail, Geta shoulders a responsibility as heavy as the throne itself.

When Diana, a mysterious stranger, visits the emperors' General, everything begins to shift. To Caracalla, she is a symbol of divine favour. To Geta, she is a woman who awakens feelings he's long buried beneath duty.

As alliances strain and desires clash, Diana becomes the key to the empire's future… and to the hidden desires of a man torn between love and responsibility. In a world where power reigns supreme, can trust and passion survive, or will their hunt for salvation be the downfall of them all?

warnings. violence, misogyny, infidelity, forced proximity, discussions of producing an heir, mental/physical abuse, forced marriage

word count. 1.3K

notes. I am supposed to be focusing on my assignments right now... whoops

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

The air in the council chamber was heavy, the torches on the walls casting flickering shadows over the assembled counsellors. The room was grand, it's towering black columns intricately adorned with golden embellishments. Statues of the gods and of past rulers leered down at the subjects in the room, commanding a presence of seriousness. Stood aside his throne at the head of the room, Geta held a carefully neutral expression as he listened to the counsel's measured words. Beside him, sprawled in his throne with clear disinterest, was Caracalla.

Caracalla's fingers tapped against the gilded armrest, the sharp, repetitive sounds of his nails clinking against the stone filling the silence between their conversations. The counsellors exchanged wary glances among themselves, clearly feeling unnerved by the situation.

"Is there anything of actual importance to discuss?" Caracalla drawled, irritation clearly tinging his words. "Or are we to sit here all day listening to dull debates of imports?"

Geta shot his brother a sidelong glance, his lips almost twitching into a smile if he weren't so tired. "Patience, brother. The greatness of Rome must be built on 'dull debates' such as these."

Caracalla groaned, theatrically so, as he pushed himself up off of his throne. "Rome's greatness is built on action, brother, not on endless talk." He turned to look at the room, seeing all eyes on him as they waited with bated breaths. He rolled his eyes, gently grabbing Geta's shoulder and speaking directly to him. "If you don't need me, I'll take my leave. Perhaps Dondas will provide better entertainment than this drudgery."

Before Geta could respond, Caracalla turned and strode towards the exit, his crimson cloak sweeping behind him. "If you have something interesting to say, do send for me." He waved dismissively before disappearing past the arched doorway.

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by the faint shuffling sounds from the guards outside resuming their positions. Geta exhaled softly, dropping himself onto his throne and leaning back comfortably against it.

"Well," he said dryly, "if there is nothing left to discuss..."

The sound of shuffling and the scrolls being gathered filled the room as the council rose from their seats, the meeting clearly having been dismissed. As they murmured amongst themselves, the chief counsellor hesitated, casting a careful glance towards the doorway in which Caracalla exited, then towards Geta.

"Emperor," he said quietly, his tone deliberate. Geta's eyes flickered towards the older man. "Might we have a moment of your time... privately?"

Geta's brow arched in intrigue. "Privately?" He leaned forward, his hands clasping together. "I assume this is a more pressing matter than grain shipments and repairs?"

"It is indeed." The counsellor nodded, his expression cautious as a few other elderly members circled beside him. "May we speak plainly?"

Geta waited for the other men to leave, sending a dangerous look to any who seemed curious in this new conversation. Once only they remained, Geta sent the chief counsellor a curt nod. "Proceed."

The chief, in response, exchanged a glance with his colleagues before continuing. "It's the matter of succession, Emperor. I know it is a delicate subject, but one must address it for the stability of Rome."

Geta fiddled with the rings on his fingers. "Succession." His father's ring weighed heavy on his index finger, the family crest gleaming under the torchlight. "I assume you mean the matter of securing an heir."

"Yes," the counsellor confirmed, awaiting an angered reaction. Geta continued to look down upon his crest.

"We have spoken of such matters before," his tone was mundane, "I do not see what has changed for it to come up again so soon."

"Your brother, Emperor Caracalla" The chief spoke quickly, "He has his strengths... but his temperament is becoming unpredictable." He glanced between his fellow men, who all stood quietly at his statement. "Rome cannot afford uncertainty in its future."

The words hung in the air like a blade waiting to fall. Geta's gaze flicked from his hands to the counsellors, his expression cold yet amused. "You're suggesting my brother is now unfit for this responsibility?"

The chief stiffened, his expression showing his unease. "His devotion to Rome is unquestionable. But his priorities do not align with what is necessary for the stability of the empire."

The sound of murmurs filled the quiet space, the counsellors agreeing, yet none dared to meet Geta's eyes directly.

Geta sat back, folding his hands in his lap. The counsellors flinched as he finally spoke. "Your loyalty to Rome is admirable, as is your concern for its future." His voice was calm, almost lazy. "But let me remind you, my brother is the emperor." The men stood back as Geta rose quickly from his throne, his figure looming over their feeble bodies. "His strength is Rome's strength, and to doubt him is to doubt the gods who placed him on the throne."

They shifted uncomfortably, yet still no challenge arose.

"That said," Geta continued, his tone hardening slightly "I understand your concerns. And I will address them. But this is not a discussion to be had at my brother's expense." The counsellors murmured in agreement amongst themselves. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes emperor!" They chanted in unison. The chief counsellor bowed his head, the others following suit.

"Good." Geta held his gold and crimson cloak as he turned away, "Then we are finished here."

~~~

In the imperial gardens, Caracalla was pacing restlessly. Dondas, his pet monkey, was darting between the hedges, little chirps of amusement sounding from it's tiny mouth as it followed him. Caracalla's movements were erratic, his hands gesturing animatedly as though in an argument. He finally came to a stop as Dondas reached out for something, causing him to chuckle as he pulled a fig off a nearby tree.

"Dondas," Caracalla spoke animatedly, breaking off a piece of the fruit and holding it out to his friend, "You are the only one in this entire empire who truly understands me."

Geta, who had been watching from a distance, dismissed the guards that were standing close by.

"Talking to yourself?" Geta called out as he approached.

Caracalla spun on his heel, a manic grin splitting his face. "Of course not brother... Have the dreary old men finally stopped talking?"

Geta observed as Dondas scrambled for more of the fruit, his brother happily breaking off more pieces and chucking it towards the monkey.

"They have," he started, folding his arms. "Though they again brought concerns of heirs and stability."

Caracalla snorted. "Concerns? Stability? Have we not given them enough victories to secure the empire?"

"They want assurance-"

"They mean to control!" Caracalla stiffened, his wrist flickering with anger as he tossed the pieces of fruit to the floor.

"It is more than that," Geta's words were careful, yet his voice was firm. "It is about strength. Continuity. The people must see us as enduring. If we are to secure our rule, we must show them that Rome's future is unshakable."

"And you believe marriage will achieve that?" Caracalla mumbled innocently, turning to look up at his brother.

"It is a step," Geta replied, sending him a smile of reassurance. "A necessary one, however... We must consider it."

Caracalla was silent for a long moment, taking in his brothers words. Dondas neared his feet, and as if being pulled from a daze, he slowly bent down to let him climb his body. Geta observed as the monkey perched himself atop Caracalla's shoulder, bringing a small grin back to his face.

"Very well brother. I will consider it... But if I am to endure the monotony of marriage, she had better be extraordinary."

Geta allowed himself a faint smile, his mood lightening at his brother's acceptance. "Leave it to me. I'll ensure she's everything Rome needs - and more." He gently ruffled his hand through Caracalla's hair, causing the later to laugh in amusement.

Dondas jumped repeatedly on Caracalla's shoulder, bringing his attention back to the small creature.

Geta turned away, his expression darkening. The counsellors' words echoed in his mind, a reminder of the precarious balance he was tasked with maintaining. Rome demanded perfection, and Geta knew that both he and Caracalla were far from it. 

[hero21us]

Gold Reigns Supreme

Brody, a dedicated member of the Golden Army soccer team, has always admired Trey’s track and field prowess. He follows Trey’s career closely, inspired by his relentless dedication and impressive achievements. However, recently, Brody heard unsettling rumors about Trey’s sudden disinterest in his sport and his peculiar obsession with a black rubber polo shirt. This strange behavior reminded Brody of his former teammate, Christian, who had disappeared soon after obtaining a similar shirt.

Brody decides to reach out to Trey.  Trey agrees to meet at a local outside gym.  Trey is sitting alone on a bench, lost in thought when Brody catches sight of him.  Taking a deep breath Brody walks over, his heart pounding with anxiety and anticipation.

“Hey, Bro,” Brody begins, trying to sound casual. “Thanks for meeting me.  I heard about your experience with a black polo shirt.  How are you doing?  Trey looks up, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief and apprehension. “Brody, thanks for reaching out.  It’s been tough but I’m okay.” 

“Trey, Brody begins, you may remember that the Golden Army brought on a new wingback, Christian #55, a few months ago.  Wanting to prove himself during his first game he did not stay in his position or listen to our captains’ instructions ultimately costing us the match.  His life became hell after that match.  One day he showed up to practice wearing a black rubber polo just like the one you described. 

He began handing out the polos to the team saying that we would win if we became one, obey and serve.  Some of the team seeing his focus and intensity accepted the shirts. They all quickly stopped caring about the team and our matches.  All they wanted was for everyone to start wearing the polos.  When no one else on the team would accept the polos, Christian and those who did all vanished.”

Brody continues, “Reading the stories about your experience I am hoping you might have some information or insight that can help me to find out what happened to Christian and the rest of my teammates.”

Trey takes a deep breath and begins to share his experience. “It all started when I received a package from 009, filled with advanced workout gear. Each outfit seemed to enhance my performance, but the last item was different—a black ‘Fred Perry’ rubber polo shirt. When I put it on, I felt an incredible surge of energy.  I was able to focus, increase the intensity of my workouts and be more synchronized with the team while running the 4x400 relay.

One night after a great workout two men in black came up from behind and put a gas mask on me.  The gas did something to change me.  I no longer had a will.  I existed to obey, serve, be one with my brother drones in the collective.  Our command was to make all men one, united in the black rubber polo.  I was specifically commanded to not wear the polo but to spread the love of all things rubber and polo.  I was to put the shirt on at night along with a gas mask.  The tight rubber shirt on my skin combined with the gas was intoxicating.  It was so powerful and overwhelming that it became impossible for me to act normal.  I needed the rubber and the gas.  I needed to be one with the collective at all times.” 

“I couldn’t have broken free without my friends.”  Trey continues.  “They physically tore the polo off of me and destroyed the gas mask.” 

As Trey and Brody talked a figure emerges from the shadows striding toward them.  Its movements are unnervingly precise, its body clad in black rubber with a black “Fred Perry” buttoned up polo with gold accents and a laurel leaf on its left pec.  Most striking of all was the gas mask obscuring its face, the lenses dark and impenetrable.

It carried another gas mask in its hand.

“Trey,” the figure states in a voice that is deep, monotone and eerily robotic, yet disturbingly human. It is less a voice and more a command programmed to sound alive. “You are required to wear this.”

Trey jumps up, a chill running down his spine, a look of terror on his face.  He remembers the nights he spent under the influence of the gas, how it clouded his mind and made him act against his will. "What the hell? No way! Never again!” "I won't go back," "I’m not a puppet, and I won’t let the collective control me."

But the drone persists; "Resistance is futile. The collective will prevail," he drones, reaching out to place the mask on Trey with mechanical precision.  "You must return to the collective. Your purpose is to spread the unity of the collective." “For your safety. Resistance is prohibited.” 

Brody steps forward; his tone confrontational. “Hey, back off! You’re not forcing anything on him.” 

The polo drone’s head tilts slightly, as if recalculating its approach. 

"Resistance is futile. The collective will prevail." It states matter-of-factly as it suddenly lunges at Brody, attempting to secure the mask over his face. Brody dodges, shoving the polo drone back. Trey joins the fray, grabbing the drone’s arm and pulling it away from Brody.  The gas mask it is holding falling to the ground.

The battle is fierce, each moment filled with tension and determination.  The polo drone displays remarkable force, but its movements seem pre‑programmed, predictable. Trey manages to lock its arms behind its back while Brody reaches for the polo drone’s mask.

The polo drone fights like an animal; its desperation palpable. It claws and thrashes, trying to reclaim the gas mask and put it on Trey. But Brody and Trey hold tight, their combined strength overpowering the drone's frantic attempts.

“If there’s someone under this, we’re pulling them out!” Brody yells, his fingers prying at the mask’s straps.

The polo drone’s muffled voice protests. “Unauthorized action. Cease immediately.”

“Yeah, no thanks,” Brody grunts. With a final tug, the mask comes free landing on the sidewalk, and the two friends stumble backward.

Beneath the mask is a pale, sweating face. The man looks disoriented, his eyes blinking rapidly as if waking from a nightmare.

“Who... where am I?” the man stammers, his voice trembling.

“Christian!” Brody snaps. “Is it really you?”  You just tried to force that gas mask on me!”

Christian looks at the two masks on the ground and begins to reach out for one before Trey stops him.  He reaches for it again becoming more agitated.  Brody holds him tight.  Christian’s attempts become more frantic, his addiction driving him wild. But Brody keeps an iron grip on him determined to keep him away from the mask.

"Look into my eyes Christian. “You will be okay,” Brody states, his eyes beginning to glow gold, while offering Christian a big hug.  “We are here for you!” 

Slowly Christian begins to calm down.  He stares at his own trembling fingers.

“Where have you been for the past few months?” Brody asks.

“I—I don’t remember. The last thing I recall, I was at Pulse waiting for Cap.  He arrived with someone else who I didn’t know. Then... nothing.” 

While explaining and continuing to stare into Brody's gold eyes and the aura of gold that now completely surrounds him, the gold begins to return to Christian’s eyes.  Slowly the black polo is absorbed into Christian’s skin as his gold jersey reemerges bringing a clarity to his mind. 

In a trance like state, Christian continues; “Bros, after I f*cked up during the match I went into a deep depression.  I lost all my confidence.  When cap put the polo on me, I felt my focus, intensity and ability to synchronize with the team return. It was empowering.  Then the gas mask was put on me and all that focus changed to obeying, serving and growing a collective. Nothing else mattered.”

“What are you saying?”  Brody asks.

“It was not the polo that made me fight for the collective but the gas.  I can still feel the polo within me.  It is now part of my being.  It has united itself to the gold within me to sharpen my focus and intensity in order to support the golden army.”

Impulsively Trey decides he must destroy the gas masks. Spotting two kids walking through the park on the way to baseball practice, he runs toward them and grabs a bat from one of them. Running back, he is about to smash the masks.

"Stop!" Brody yells. Trey freezes in place. "What?"

Without a word Brody grabs a mask, and to the horror of Trey and Christian, places it over his face. He becomes frozen and blank his individuality beginning to drain as the mask blacks out Brody's gold eyes. At that exact moment a group of polo drones emerges and surrounds the three men holding polos and gas masks repeating: "You will submit. You will obey."

Brody is standing frozen in place lost to the gas. The drones are approaching. Time seems to have stopped for Christian and Trey not knowing what to do.

Brody's head twitches slightly. It begins to shake. The back eye sockets start to glow. Brighter and brighter as a gold spiral appears. Brody's gold aura shines brighter than it ever had before. His jersey becomes metallic in nature and shine. The entire mask turns gold and a gold gas seeps out from the edges of the mask.

The polo drones freeze mid step.

After what seems an eternity to Christian and Trey, but is only a few seconds, Brody removes the gas mask as if nothing had happened.

The eye sockets of all the polo drones surrounding them have become gold spirals. A gold gas can be seen swirling behind the lenses. They stand erect facing Brody and in unison intone: "We are one. We obey gold. We serve gold. Gold is supreme. Awaiting commands."

"Gather all drones to the pitch where team management will provide instructions," Brody commands. The drones turn and walk away in unisan.

Brody, Christian and Trey, all exhausted and overwhelmed, leave the park supporting one another to find a place where they can rest and process all they have just experienced.

A few months later Trey wins Olympic gold in the 4X400 wearing his gold proudly wanting nothing to do with polos or drones. Christian rejoins Brody and the team on the pitch wearing his black rubber polo during the day filled with confidence, focus and intensity while easily shifting into his gold jersey which shines brighter and stronger than it ever had before. The polo drones remain mindless and obedient to every command of the collective which has become gold. The collective supports the Golden Army in all things. It only assimilating members of the golden family who willingly submit. The polos obedience being reinforced by wearing the black rubber polos and the gold gas flowing through their masks.

[myfavoritesstuff]

No Regrets

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Prompt: Alastor making the wrong deal.

Warning(s): Manipulation

Note: Alastor never made a deal with Lilith in this.

Word count: 634

In the sprawling depths of the hellish realm, where darkness reigned supreme, there stood Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. With his charismatic smile and sinister charm, he ruled over the damned souls with an iron grip. Yet, amidst the cacophony of screams and tormented wails, there was an emptiness in his heart—a void that no amount of power or control could fill.

One fateful night, as the crimson moon hung low in the sky, Alastor’s path crossed with yours. You, a lowly demon caught in the throes of hell, caught his attention like no other. Your defiance against the horrors of the underworld intrigued him, and soon enough, he found himself captivated by your spirit.

As days turned into nights, and nights into eternities, Alastor found himself falling deeply, hopelessly in love with you. He watched from the shadows as you navigated the dangers of hell, your strength and resilience shining like a beacon in the darkness.

One evening, as the flames of hell danced around you, Alastor approached with a proposition that would bind your souls together for eternity. “My dear,” he purred, his voice a melody of temptation, “let us give our souls to each other, completing the experience of love in its truest form.”

You, caught in the throes of love and longing, gazed into his crimson eyes and nodded, the fire of determination burning bright within you.

With a flourish of his hand, Alastor offered his soul to you, a swirling mass of darkness and power. The moment it touched your being, a rush of exhilaration swept through you, and a sinister smile tugged at your lips.

Alastor’s heart skipped a beat as he noticed the change in your demeanor, a flicker of fear mingling with the love that still burned fiercely within him.

“My sweet Alastor,” you whispered, your voice laced with newfound power, “from this moment forth, you are mine.”

With those words, you held his soul in your grasp, twisting and molding it to your will. Alastor, bound by love and now by your command, could do nothing but obey.

Yet, even as you held him under your control, Alastor’s love for you burned brighter than ever before. He danced to your tune, a willing puppet in your hands, his heart singing with a love that knew no bounds.

As the days turned to weeks and weeks to months, the bond between Alastor and the reader grew ever stronger, though it was now a twisted, dark thread that bound them together. Alastor, once the feared and powerful Radio Demon, now found himself at the mercy of the reader’s every whim.

Under the reader’s command, Alastor used his powers to wreak havoc upon the denizens of hell, his once cheerful demeanor now twisted into a sinister grin. Yet, through it all, his love for the reader remained unyielding, a constant flame burning in the darkness of his soul.

The reader, now possessed of Alastor’s soul, reveled in their newfound power. They commanded legions of demons and tormented souls, their laughter echoing through the halls of hell. Yet, instead of regret or sadness, the reader felt a surge of euphoria at the power they now held.

One night, as the crimson moon hung low in the sky, the reader found themselves alone with Alastor in the depths of their shared domain. The air crackled with tension as they stood face to face, the weight of their twisted love hanging heavy between them.

“Alastor,” the reader whispered, their voice a haunting melody in the darkness, “do you regret giving me your soul?”

Alastor’s eyes, once filled with love and adoration, now held a glimmer of sadness. “Never, my dear,” he replied, his voice a soft murmur. “Though I am now bound to your will, my love for you remains unchanged.”

[agentarc]

i’m just gonna bite the bullet and post a wip of this fox whump fic i’m cooking

important background info: quinlan is undercover as a maintenance tech for senate droids, and he’s concealing his tattoos via makeup

also i’m genuinely always trying to improve my writing so constructive criticism is welcome

content warning for graphic panic attack and self harm by way of exacerbating injury — please let me know if there’s anything i missed

(also also hi if you like this and you’re in a clone trooper discord please invite me im dying to be social in the clone trooper fandom)

His quarters are on this floor — Fox is reasonably sure — but the distance his feet must carry him to get there stretches and warps until it may as well be a parsec away.

A good soldier would weather the storm and march on. A functioning clone wouldn’t struggle to expand his lungs, put one foot in front of the other, and navigate to his own quarters. Fox is not a functioning clone. Fox is hardly even a soldier.

He must abort mission. He will not make it to his office. He lurches for the nearest door. The keypad flashes red at him.

His knees wobble, and he’s supposed to be a soldier, a marshal commander; he’s knees don’t wobble. His knees can’t wobble, not when he needs to stand steady and lead the Guard; not when his brothers are depending on him to keep them safe. Not when his entire existence hinges on his ability to contribute. Not when he needs to face the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic and pretend he’s in full functioning order when he’s constantly grasping at the fraying edges of control. Fox doesn’t know if he’ll come back when the threads fly apart.

Time does something funny and Fox is on his knees. The keypad sparks and sizzles. The door remains tightly sealed.

“Commander?”

The world slams to a stop. His eyes fly open — when had he closed them? He’s too vulnerable, it’s not safe to fall apart here, he can’t — and a natborn human is hovering at the hallway junction, 20 steps away.

They take a half-step in his direction, and Fox doesn’t have enough control to mask his full-bodied flinch. He knows the natborn sees it because they instantly freeze, raising both their hands in a display of easy surrender.

“I’m not gonna hurt you. I just want to help.” Movements measured and slow, they lower their hands until they’re relaxed at their sides, palms facing out. “Can you tell me what happened?”

Fox can’t. Can’t push words through his teeth, can’t steady his hands, can’t take a full breath — can’t choke back the strangled noise that builds in the back of his throat —

It’s like his armor is see-through, all his cracks on full display, his skin flayed open for the natborn and the vode and all the little gods to feast. It’s not safe. He needs — he needs —

Thorn, he signs desperately, the shape of his brother’s name mangled by tremors. His fingers aren’t listening, but natborns don’t know battlesign anyway, so what’s the point? Fox is well and truly going to die. Fox is going to shake apart right here on the floor of the hallway, his heart is going to smash through his ribs, and the Chancellor will have been right about him all along. Fox is going to die and it won’t even be in the glory of battle, protecting his brothers like he’s meant to, like he wants to. Fox is going to die, and he is going to die an embarrassment; a failure to the Republic and a failure to his brothers.

“Commander,” someone says, and Fox’s attention snaps back to the stranger so fast that it rends a shock of pain through his skull. They have not come closer, but they could have — could have slid up and pricked him with a hypo or put a blaster to his head, and at this range the bolt would zip through his bucket like wet flimsi, and Fox isn’t paying enough attention, this place isn’t safe —

“My name’s Quin. I’m a maintenance tech,” the stranger continues from the junction. They speak firmly, but soft enough that their voice doesn’t echo. “You’re at Guard headquarters, on level 83, maintenance hall 7B, and you’re safe. I think you’re having a panic attack.” Their hands are still visible, but their arms are positioned in a way that suggests they had just used their commlink — to call whom? Maintenance techs don’t usually have direct lines to upper command, who did he call — “You were trying to get into that storage closet, right? I’m going to come closer and open it for you, okay?”

Fox expects them to start approaching, and he flinches reflexively, his body wound tight enough to snap right in half, but the stranger doesn’t move, yet. They watch Fox carefully, though Fox can’t make out the features of their face through his blackening vision.

He shudders through the concentrated wrongness knotted in his chest, eyeing the stranger as would a cornered, dying animal.

It’s perhaps desperation, perhaps the stranger’s disarming words, or perhaps a result of Fox having fully lost his mind that leads him to nod, once.

Only then does the stranger cautiously begin their approach, step after measured step, both their hands loose and empty and visible — a human man, Fox finally notes through the haze of his malfunction — and Fox tracks his movements as he smoothly glides into Fox’s bubble.

Fox cannot move, will not flex a single muscle, because if he does, he knows he will die. He thinks his trachea may be collapsing, gripped by some invisible force —

He jolts against phantom hands (you must stop struggling, Commander) that exist and don’t in equal measure (hold still, now) [end this smoothly, god i can’t be bothered rn]

“Almost got it,” the stranger says from somewhere above him, and Fox inhales sharply, shallowly; the exhale punches out of him with a low keening whine. It could have been seconds or cycles but eventually the man backs off in one casual, languid movement, and the door to the storage closet whooshes open.

Fox all but tumbles inside. He vaguely thinks he should be embarrassed, but as he presses his shoulders into a corner and lets his head hang between his knees, he figures that he deserves a death just as pitiful and undignified as his life was.

The trill of an incoming comm — not his own, because the Chancellor insists he not bring it to their meetings — has him whipping his head back up to attention. The man has stayed behind in the hall, standing off to one side of the open doorway. He raises his wrist comm and a bolt of terror lances through Fox at the reminder that he called someone.

“This is Commander Thorn. What’s going on?”

Fox could cry, and he probably is.

“Commander Fox is in distress. He’s safe, but I think he hurt his hand. We’re in storage closet 83-7B-A113.”

His hand? Fox flexes it and gasps with a detached sort of surprise at the burst of sensation. He hears swearing and shuffling from the other line.

“I’ll be there in 10. Do not touch him, and do not let anyone else approach.”

Fox chokes on a sob. Thorn is coming. It’s going to be okay. Thorn is coming.

“Of course.” The man signs off, but Fox isn’t watching anymore. Thorn is coming.

“Hey, Commander Fox? I’m gonna leave the door open, ‘cause the mechanism’s kind of messed up and I don’t want it locking on you.” A brief rustle of fabric, and, “I’m just gonna keep watch until Thorn gets here, yeah? I’ll head anyone else off.”

When Fox risks a glance at the doorway, the man is no longer within sight. Alarm and relief flood him in equal parts — eyes on all threats at all times, trooper, you’re not out of this yet — but despite his lack of visual on the stranger, he’s finally and blessedly alone in the storage closet.

He paws at his bucket until he remembers he will almost certainly die if he takes it off, and curls his fingers around the edge of his cuirass instead. If it weren’t for the hard plastoid, he thinks he’d sink his fingers into his chest to still his thundering heart himself. Maybe preventing it from racing around would fix him. Maybe it would kill him. Either option is preferable to the way dread creeps into every corner of his mind, every organ and limb, buzzing like holo static in his hands as they scrabble at his armored chest.

A renewed shock of feeling from his right hand abruptly pulls the world into stark contrast. It aches, maybe, behind and underneath the layers of wrongness, a single shred of reality, and he closes his fist to feel the sparks again and again.

It’s not pain — not quite. It wants to be, but Fox’s nerve endings are misfiring, severing themselves from his synapses as his body corrupts. It’s starbursts of sensation that sear through an impenetrable, suffocating fog; clashes of a cymbal to accompany the percussion of his heart and the unfaltering hum of the fluorescent lights above.

Fox understands pain, but he doesn’t understand this. He understands pain for the lessons it can teach, but he is failing to learn this lesson. He’s not sure this is pain at all. Pain is getting caught outside of cover and taking a blaster bolt to the gut, or not being fast-strong-cunning-ruthless enough on the training mats, or failing to dodge the Red Guard’s electrostaff during the Chancellor’s extracurricular lessons. Pain is useful; endurance of pain even more so. A soldier unacquainted with pain can’t function on a battlefield, or learn from critical mistakes, or (gods forbid) tolerate torture without cracking open.

If this is pain, and pain is meant to be some sort of lesson, what lesson is Fox evidentially incapable of learning? Just how defective is he? He squeezes his right hand in his left, lets the pain-not-pain fill his awareness until there’s no room left for this wicked miasma eating him alive.

Suddenly, there are hands on his wrists.

A twisted thing crawls up his throat and tears out through his teeth, and he swings, disoriented, clamoring for a single inch of control in a tumultuous storm. The grip holds fast against his thrashing until Fox abruptly registers the staccato being tapped out on his vambrace. Vod. Vod. Vod.

A brother — Thorn, Thorn is here — hovers before him, the determined set of his shoulders betraying none of the alarm Fox thinks he’d see in his eyes if he had the strength to look. “Fox,” Thorn says, “Fox’ika, I’m here. You’re safe.”

He’s not safe. He’s not, but Thorn is here and whole and keeping the danger away, and that’s not nothing.

“Let’s get your bucket off,” Thorn suggests, and then to the tense breath Fox hisses out in response, “It’s okay; Stone’s outside, he’s keeping watch. It’s safe.” And Fox believes him, because Thorn never lies to him. Thorn tells it like it is.

A snap-hiss, and Thorn gently lifts Fox’s helmet off. Cool air rushes over his face and fills his lungs.

“Good, that’s good. A couple more of those, like this.” Thorn takes a big breath, and Fox tries to copy him but his lungs are broken; the breath he takes is in starts and stops. A strangled whine squeezes out with his exhale. “I know,” Thorn says, “It’ll get easier.”

And it does. Thorn has worked his thumbs between Fox vambraces and blacks, rubbing small circles into his wrists, and it feels like everything. The lighthouse coming into view from out on a choppy sea. The anchor that keeps him tethered to the waking world. The offer of shelter from a vicious storm.

His sense of time is fractured. By the time Fox can inhale and exhale a complete breath it feels as though hours have passed, Thorn murmuring words of encouragement and squeezing gently whenever Fox starts to get sucked back into the fog.

Fox opens his eyes, and Thorn meets it with a smile. “That’s it, vod. I’m right here. Keep breathing.”

Thorn is here. It’s safe. The tension he didn’t realize was holding him together suddenly abates, rushing out of him like debris out an airlock, and he sags forward into Thorn’s waiting arms. Thorn’s free hand comes up to card through Fox’s sweaty curls, the other still encircling Fox’s wrist, as the marshal commander presses his forehead into his brother’s armored chest.

Sorry, Fox signs shakily, but he feels Thorn already shaking his head.

“Don’t you dare. You have nothing to apologize for.” Gently, as though Fox is something deserving of of reverence, Thorn removes Fox’s face from his chest and pulls him into a keldabe. They breathe in sync like this for a long, peaceful moment. “How about we go see Lore and fix your hand, and then have some midmeal in the barracks?” At Fox’s dour expression, Thorn rolls his eyes. “Alright then, let me rephrase. We’re going to medbay, and then having some midmeal in the barracks. You’ll feel better. Think you’re ready to stand?”

Fox thinks he might never be able to stand again. He does, though, and with Thorn’s support, ambles through the threshold of the supply closet. Stone sweeps in to support Fox’s other side.

The stranger is nowhere to be seen.

[smoshyourheadin]

robin buckley x popular head cheerleader!reader

i’m glad it happened

pairing: robin buckley x cheerleader! f! reader

a/n: I USED Y/N ONCE IN HERE also guys i’m glad we’re finally giving robin some love bc she’s my wifey!! requests open <3

in the bustling halls of hawkins high, where cliques and reputations reigned supreme, robin buckley found herself in a unique position.

as a recent addition to the av club, she had expected to remain on the fringes of the school's social scene.

yet, fate had other plans.

robin's afternoons were typically spent in the av room, tinkering with equipment and occasionally teasing steve when he dropped by. however, during one routine lunch break, she found herself in the midst of an unexpected encounter.

the cafeteria buzzed with energy as students hurriedly grabbed trays and sought out their usual spots. robin, preferring the solace of a quiet corner, settled into her routine. she was halfway through her sandwich when a commotion at the nearby table caught her attention.

there you were, the head cheerleader and a beacon of popularity at hawkins high.

robin couldn't help but notice your effortless grace as you commanded the attention of everyone around you. you were surrounded by the entourage of your friends, laughing and chatting animatedly.

robin observed quietly from afar, admiring your poise, and wondering what it would be like to navigate high school with such confidence. little did she know, fate had a surprise in store.

it started innocently enough.

one day, during a particularly chaotic av club meeting, you wandered into the room. robin's heart skipped a beat as she watched the cheerleader's eyes widen in curiosity at the sight of the tech gadgets and makeshift projects scattered around.

"y/n, what are you doing here?" one of her friends exclaimed in surprise.

"i heard there was something cool happening in here," you replied with a hint of intrigue, gaze lingering on robin.

robin, caught off guard by your presence, managed a casual smile. "just the usual av club stuff. you know, fixing things, breaking things, the usual."

to robin's surprise, you didn't turn away in disinterest. instead, you stepped closer, eyes scanning the cluttered table with genuine curiosity. "that's pretty neat. can i... um, can i watch?"

and so began an unexpected friendship. over the following weeks, you and robin found yourselves spending more time together. you discovered some shared interests beyond their apparent differences - a love for movies, solving puzzles, and david bowie.

your friendship blossomed quietly, away from the prying eyes of your respective social circles. robin learned that you weren’t just a popular cheerleader that you appeared to be; you were also someone who valued depth and authenticity.

as you grew closer, robin found herself falling for you in ways she hadn't anticipated. her heart raced whenever they exchanged knowing glances across the cafeteria or shared stupid inside jokes during av club meetings.

and yet, she hesitated to confess her feelings, fearing rejection or worse - the end of their newfound friendship.

but fate intervened once again during the school's annual halloween party. amidst the pulsating music and dimly lit dance floor, robin mustered up the courage to pull you aside.

"hey, um, can i talk to you for a sec?" robin asked, her voice tinged with nervousness.

you turned to her, a curious expression on your face. "sure, robin. what's on your mind?"

robin took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. "i... i really enjoy spending time with you. more than i ever expected. you're... you're amazing. and i... i think i might be falling for you."

for a moment, there was silence as you processed robin's confession. then, to robin's astonishment, you smiled - a genuine, heartfelt smile that lit up your entire face.

"i think i might be falling for you too, robin," you admitted softly. "i never expected this, but... i'm glad it happened."

and in that moment, amidst the swirl of costumes and laughter, you pulled robin into a gentle kiss, her arms wrapped around your waist softly – two souls who had defied the expectations of their high school roles to find something real.

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Marvel

Dumb, Dumber and Dumbass by tempestaurora

As Coach Wilson peered out the window in the living room, May said, very quietly, “You didn’t realise your brother worked at Peter’s school?”

“We all make mistakes!” Sam hissed.

Then Coach Wilson was leaning back and a figure in a hoodie and jeans stepped through the window and into the living room, and Peter’s heart sank into his stomach like a rock. Sam’s brother was, true to story, scarred from head to toe. He could see the puckered skin on his hands, the burns across his bald head. But that wasn’t the shocking part—the shocking part was that he’d already seen it before: he’d seen it when a certain vigilante’s suit had been destroyed three nights before, and Peter had walked with him back to his backpack to loan him some clothes.

“This is Wade,” Sam introduced.

Sam Wilson had two brothers: one was Peter’s gym teacher, and the other was fucking Deadpool.

OR: A Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Family Dinner, during which Peter and May meet Sam's family. Meanwhile, Tony sends constant text updates about his search for whoever graffiti-ed Avengers Tower.

Death Before Inaction by hppjmxrgosg

"Fuck off, Nicky.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Hasn’t anyone ever told you spider-napping is illegal?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “You can’t hold me here, I know my spider-rights.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “God, you guys are so old. What are you? Like 27?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ “Scale of 1 to 10, how upset would you be if I told you I banged your mom?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Or, I got my grubby little hands on the spider-man time line and fucked around a little bit. Not much (everything) changes.

DC / Star Wars (Crossover)

Obi-Wan in Gotham by hoebiwan (+ podfic)

Obi-Wan falls through a hole in the universe and ends up in the Batcave.

Clone Wars

the war has just begun by unintentionalgenius

The first problem was that the Supreme Commander didn’t give them enough warning about what they were stumbling into, when they were ordered out into it. Someone above General Kenobi’s head sent the men planetside in standard-issue gear, without thermal clothing or heat packs or sleeping kit or enough food for more than a single day. They had no extra ammo, no tents, no heavy artillery. They had barely any warning.

The second problem was that Supreme Command underestimated the strength of the enemy; it was supposed to be an easy enough job, holding the planet long enough to route the Seppies and then right back to the ship, leaving a contingent of troopers stationed there to retain what they’d won.

The third problem - the real problem - came when they let themselves become surrounded and the Separatists cut their supply line. Cody’s partially at fault for that one; a better Commander would’ve seen it coming. A better Commander would’ve had more backup plans, been prepared for more contingencies.

Being cut off from re-supply would’ve been a problem before the snow started.

Then the snow started.

I've never made it with moderation by Trixree (+ podfic)

He’d known how some of the men are with younglings—known from Waxer and Boil how sharply those attachments can form with little ones. Hell, the men were raised to be protective, so much so that Obi-Wan has often wondered if their protective drive was not written into their very atoms, some intrinsic part of their DNA.

It wasn’t something Obi-Wan had ever questioned. He’d thought he had understood the scope of it. In reality, he hadn’t understood a thing.

Not until Kamino.

Or: Not all that dive from cliffs make a running head start. Sometimes, the Fall is only a natural progression.

Standards of Professionality by Trixree

"Are we going to pretend I didn’t just find you fucking your General, vod?” Rex hisses over private-comm.

Cody doesn’t even turn his head to look at him. Rex can hear the smile in Cody’s voice when he replies, “No, because I am not fucking my General, Rex’ika. I am fucking Obi-Wan. We are professionals.”

5 times Cody and Obi-Wan struggled to maintain plausible deniability regarding their affections for one another + 1 time they decidedly Did Not.

The Hunger Games

Lover & Loner by amateurwordbender

Haymitch once told him that he’s a survivor. It hadn’t been a compliment; he’d slurred out the words in pity after finding Finnick shaking apart from a panic attack.

Jo’s a survivor, too.

(Finnick and Johanna, from the moment they meet to the bitter end)

Original Works

for the want of a jewel by FormlessVoidbeast

With his country fallen to the unstoppable tide of the Dread Warlord, a terrified king sends a peace offering of his own flesh and blood in the hopes of buying leniency.

When Prince Damian of Miska is accepted as the symbol of his country's surrender and immediately wedded to the Warlord, he expects his fate to be both painful and humiliating, and his death inevitable. To his confusion, the Warlord and his terrible Warlock seem to have no interest in abusing that which they have claimed as their own. As Damian finds his feet and gains friends in a new land, he begins to question everything he once thought was true.

But some jewels were never meant to be sold, and the consequences of Damian's sacrifice are more far-reaching than anyone expected.

[awriternamedart]

saw a post about how flippy floppy gepard is in the story and i figured why not give my very gepard - oriented autism a go

The post mentioned specifcally how seemingly erratic Gepard's choices in the story are. Hes blindly following Cocolia , then hes letting the trailblazers into the city , then hes illegally letting them past him . But heres the thing , these really arent that erratic of changes - first of all , theres years Gepard has been under Cocolias command , and even though he was shown to question it he didnt act.

The explanation is in Gepards character description .

"A captain in the Silvermane Guards and an outstanding warrior of Belobog. He is meticulous and vigilant to the core and always true to himself."

Of Belobog. Note how it says hes a Captain in the Silvermane Guards , but he is of Belobog.

Gepards loyalty is not primarily with the Supreme Guardian, or with the Silvermane Guards. It is to Belobog.

When you take this at heart , his choices begin to make more sense with the story.

Note - Gepard is also used heavily as a literary device to represent the upper half of Belobog in a character , and this should be kept in mind as well.

He follows Cocolia because she convinces him its for the better of Belobog . When the Trailblazers arrive , he brings them to her because if they have a solution , he knows she is the best person for them to help and he trusts that they do . When they conflict in the fortress , Gepard is persuaded by them and his sister that the Trailblazers do in fact have the answer for Belobogs survival and because of this, lets them through .

And his judgement is proven right. In the moments he had to make these pivotable decisions - extremely key decisions might I add - He does let Belobog steer course for survival , he is key in that path as well .

Gepards loyalty does not lay in a single person . His loyalty lies with Belobog , and he chooses to follow and believe the people who he deems the best option to carry out this loyalty with .

Source - Gepard Landau Character Bio , Gepard Landau Character Story 2

also that line is what inspired akrasia lmao ok bye