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sarahfeliciam · 5 months ago

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The Ultimatum Ch 21

Chapter 21

The next morning came quickly after they spent the rest of the past evening searching for a tree before bringing it home to decorate. They spent the night with Christmas carols, hot cocoa, and tinsel and Emeline felt desperately homesick at the thought of boarding the Hogwarts Express again as her father and uncle cheers’ed their drinks, grinning and singing animatedly.

Nevertheless, she was now a few hours away from doing so.

As the morning light peaked through the window in the kitchen, Remus opened it to let Saffron in. Taking the letter from her beak, he smiled and pat her head.

“Good work, girl.” He whispered, tearing the letter open.

Remus,

Happy Christmas to you, too, my dear. It was lovely to hear from you.

On the subject matter, yes, I have heard of this and vaguely remember my training on it.

It is called mirror-ing and is specific to lycans. It hasn’t been studied much since most, as you know, are infected through bite and not birth (though there have been a handful).

How I understand it, the genes are so powerful that a trace is always left behind on offspring, a way to keep the ‘pack’ close, if you will. I’m sorry for formality, but I’m quoting by memory from textbook and lessons long ago, dear boy.

As for how far that bond goes, I’m unsure. The telepathy, for lack of a better word, is a proven factor; It’s something that can be honed if you’re willing to have that conversation. The emotional connection is more organic- not every Lycan has it as strongly. It solely depends on the connection relationally and how strong that is. That should be a lovely testament to you if you both experience this as frequently as you’ve portrayed.

That can also prove distressing for Emeline though, if she begins to feel moon cycles and things alike. I’d warn her if you are able, but there’s no stopping that as care and love continue to grow.

As for anything else, I’m unsure as the studies are limited. I’d be happy to help if anything else arises or you need any advice on better control for her. Severus can help in the Occlumency department if it ever comes to that; it borders similar practice, but for the reverse effect.

Enjoy the rest of your holidays, and don’t forget to start your potion tonight.

All my love,

Poppy

Remus folded the letter and sat for a moment in the silence. His brain was exhausting itself absorbing and replaying all of this information. To see his suspicions confirmed felt odd. He wasn’t crazy, there was something, but did Emeline realize it?

It felt like an unusual thing to be relieved about - his lycanthrope having passed down something potentially good- but he couldn’t help to feel a small bit of pride swell in his chest.

It still replayed in his head over and over.

The ‘I love you, dad’ , weeks ago.

She hadn’t said it again, but this connection was strengthening. Although he already believed her words, this solidified it. He felt like he missed so much of Emeline’s life that to have a connection like this with her right out of the gate felt like a precious gift.

Had she felt this as a child? Had he?

Guilt sent a pang through his chest as he thought on his little girl, randomly feeling the pains of his cycle, or the emotions of self deprecation.

He shook it off quickly and resolved to ask her one question at a time. The first being, does she realize it now?

“It’s potion day, Doomsday.” Her sweet voice came into the kitchen before she did; her loud and bubbly self. But, keen to these new senses, he could tell it was an exuberant charade.

“I know, darling. I’ll take it. Goodmorning.”

She nodded with an assured smile and set to work pouring some coffee.

“Did you want some?”

“I already had mine; early bird and all.”

Emeline chuckled and turned her back to him while he watched her, a ball forming in his throat.

“Em, you know, I thought maybe I could ask you something.”

She turned to face him again, mug in hand and leaning against the counter.

“Anything, what’s up?”

“Well,” he scratched the back of his head nervously. It’s a little odd, but-“

He trailed off and Emeline set her mug down and walked toward him.

“Dad, just ask me. You’re making me nervous.”

“That’s precisely it.” He blurted out. “And homesick, aren’t you?”

She looked taken aback and stared at him quietly.

“What did you say?”

Remus stood and studied her face.

“You’re homesick already. Aren’t you?”

“How did you know that?”

“The same way you knew I was nervous and felt it.”

“I’m not following.”

“It’s a connection that comes via the genes for lycanthropy; it’s typically passed down when the condition itself isn’t.”

He took a calming breath, hesitantly putting his hands on her shoulders, unsure of how she’d respond. She looked up at him and suddenly she was back in his classroom, looking into the eyes of her father for the first time.

The emotions of finally telling her came flooding back to him and they shared a knowing smile.

“You’re kidding.”

He shook his head no, softly.

“Remember the night at the shack?” He asked slowly. She nodded. “I heard you.”

“I heard you too.” She agreed, remembering how it felt like his words were just… there, deep in her soul.

“There have been other times.” She added.

“Yes, there have. When we can hear one another and no one else can. I thought I was going mad.”

“This is wicked.” She grinned. “I can talk to you anywhere. Saffron will be happy to have a break.”

“It may take some practice, pup. I don’t think full conversations are a thing. Then again, I’ve never studied this. But a part of this connection is more involuntary.”

“The feeling.” She caught on, realizing that they seemed to pass off each other’s emotions with no scheduled rhyme or reason and without trying.

“I’m worried you could feel them deeper.”

“The moon?”

“You’re too smart for your own good, Emeline.”

“Tell that to my classes.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Nevertheless, yes, I mean the moon. I don’t want you distraught if emotions arise sometimes that are a bit confusing.”

“You aren’t the only one whose emotions fluctuate through the month,” she mumbled. “So I wouldn’t feel too sorry for that.”

Remus laughed loudly now and pulled her close.

“You’re something else, Emeline.”

“You’re alright, too.” She smiled, soaking up their last moment alone before the hustle and bustle of the day would begin and she’d be back at Hogwarts.

Remus heard her words, but the ones that really mattered are what his soul knew she meant.

I love you.

•

Emeline arrived back at Hogwarts after sleeping most of the train ride. She had no time to waste in preparing for the Yule Ball and leapt to her feet as it stopped with a thud.

She was the first one off and to her surprise, George was waiting for her, already in dress robes under the clear night’s shining stars. He grinned cheekily at her and held out a hand as she stepped onto the platform.

“You clean up well.” She laughed, holding his hand tightly.

“I almost thought I was being stood up and did it all for nothing.”

“Not a chance,” Emeline laughed. “I’ll hurry.” she added, already in the castle walking beside him.

“You better!” He called after her as she headed up the stairs to the Hufflepuff dorms, baggage in hand.

•

There was a lingering Hufflepuff girl whom Emeline had spoken to once before when her quill snapped during an exam, sitting in the common room when she arrived, and she felt guilty for passing her by without a word.

“Hi,” Emeline hesitated. “I-“

“-Aubrey,” she stood quickly with a smile. “And you’re Emeline, right? Lupin?”

Emeline nodded shyly; she was never shy, but involuntary hesitation crept up in her heart. “That’s right.”

“Wicked.” Aubrey smiled. “I know we don’t know each other well but I heard what happened last year. Your dad must be a total badass.”

Emeline snorted and shook her head, unable to contain her laughter.

“I don’t think I’d ever call him that. And not many agree with you. But thanks. Are you not going to the ball?”

“No, I’m not big on social gatherings. But I take it you are and don’t want to keep you.”

Emeline smiled. “I am. I’m sorry; but we should chat sometime.”

“I’d like that.” Aubrey nodded, and Emeline hurried up the stairs.

•

Everyone else was already in full swing when Emeline ascended the large staircase, glittering in her silver gown and her hair falling in thick waves down her shoulders.

She kept her jewelry confined to her mother’s necklace and wore a slight heel as she was rather short, especially compared to George. He was standing at the bottom of the staircase, waiting patiently, hands clasped together in front of him.

She had never been so nervous in her life.

As she walked down slowly, her breath caught in her throat when he turned to her; she had never seen the gaze that fell on her in that moment cross his face before.

He let out a deep breath as she came to stand in front of him and offered his hand once more.

“Emeline, “ her full name felt foreign coming from his lips. “You look beautiful.”

“What happened to E?” She asked, smirking; an attempt to keep her nerves at bay.

“I have no clue.” He said softly, awestruck.

They entered the dance together and took to the floor practically the entire night. Emeline matched George’s outgoing energy well, which is something he loved. They were blissfully out of breath when he offered to get them some refreshments and she spotted Harry and Ron.

“Emeline!” Harry stood, hugging her.

“Hello, gentlemen.” She quipped.

“Hey, Emeline.” Ron sulked, to which Harry rolled his eyes.

“Ignore him. How’s it going with your date?” Harry grinned.

Blushing, she nodded. “Really great. Sorry, Ron. He just went to grab refreshments.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.” Ron groaned.

“Harry, you really need to come spend a holiday with us sometime. It would’ve been lovely. Your aunt and uncle would be none the wiser.”

He smiled and nodded. “If it weren’t for these tasks, I would have. I’ll take you up on it as soon as I can. Padfoot has been a right beggar about it.”

She chuckled. “I’m sure he has. Well, I’ll leave you to.. whatever this is.” She said, as George took her arm again and handed her a punch.

“Getting tired?” He asked, smiling as they exhaustedly rocked back and forth on the dance floor which was mostly clear now.

“Only if you are.”

“I’d like to take you to the balcony.” He responded, a twinkle in his eye.

Emeline nodded.

•

“It’s beautiful up here,” Emeline started. “And quiet.”

They turned to eachother and George nodded, seemingly much more absentminded at present.

“I got you these.” He said quietly, pulling a small bouquet of wildflowers from inside his dress robes.

They were similiar to the bouquet he gave her last year.

“They’re beautiful.” She responded, holding them up to her nose and breathing deeply. She shivered slightly and he instinctively slid his coat off.

“I picked them myself. Both times.” He smiled as he laid his coat on her shoulders and she looked up at him.

“You should be a florist, then.”

“Then I’d have to leave all the pranks to Freddie.”

“And we don’t want that.” She said softly, their gaze still unbroken; small talk lessening as they pressed closer in to eachother.

“No, we don’t want that.” He agreed quietly, grabbing her face gently in his hands and leaning down close.

With silent permission, she melted into him and their first kiss as their eyes fluttered closed.

Quick, soft and simple.

“If your birthday gift wasn’t enough to convince you, I thought I’d prove my point.” He smiled, still inches from her face.

“Consider it proven.” She grinned back as they went in for one more kiss.

#george weasley #remus daughter #harry potter #remus lupin x daughter #remus lupin #sirius black #remuslupin daughter

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classicpixels · 1 year ago

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hi! i don't know if this is weird but i remember reading ages ago that you were a law student? i am as well and i'm going into my second year this october and i have no idea how to study more efficiently. do you have any tips? i'm going through a law student crisis!!! sorry if this is weird, i know it's not related to the sims but you and your content seems so put together and neat so i thought you'd have some tips for law or something lol. thank you so so much!!!

Hello! This isn’t weird at all, sweetheart x

I’m so excited to meet a fellow law student, so thank you for reaching out! You’re leagues ahead of me because, despite my age, I have just started my tertiary journey which is something I’m so happy (but stressed) about.

It’s safe to say you have much more experience than me but I would love to offer some study tips which will hopefully be of help to you x

Personally, I always briefly read through the modules before class so I can hightlight what I would ask during the lecture for further understanding of the topic. Taking notes in class really helps you stay focused on the lesson and absorb the information so much better, in my opinion!

Right after each class I would create my own notes while referencing my class notes and text books to reinforce the information I learned. This may seem tedious but I find that it helps me retain information so much better, especially the case laws and legal principles because you’ve repeated them a couple times and simplified it whilst curating your notes.

It comes in handy during exam seasons as you have all your syllabus condensed into something you’re able to understand and digest, rather than having to review so many textbooks and modules all at once which only adds onto the stress. It also helps you in answering exam questions because you’re able to cite case laws and apply legal principles in a simplified manner, which saves you a lot of writing time and wrist pains.

Keeping on top of things like assignments are crucial to stay on track, at least for me. Try to complete your assignments as early as you can so that you’re able to focus more of your time on studying and revising the syllabus which, as you know, is important because there’s so much to memorise and remember. By doing so, you’re familiarising yourself with the study materials rather than force-feeding information to your brain during study weeks.

If you’re a visual person, colour coordinating your notes will help. Eg. pink for statutes, yellow for legal principles, etc. Or if you have photographic memory, then I hear mind-maps are useful!

I hope these are helpful tips and that you feel less anxious about your law student crisis. Best of luck to you! “Vincit qui patitur.” He conquers who endures.

#answered

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chilly-me-softly · 3 years ago

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Lifespan • Mason Mount

Warning: mention of death, other than that I hope you like it x

When you started to think that something was wrong, that you were different from everyone else, you were afraid. Whenever you were on the verge of talking to someone about it, you simply couldn't; the fear of being seen as crazy or not being believed was always in the forefront of your mind.

It all started when you turned twenty-one, before that you had never had a chance to believe that something was wrong with you. Your sister had just become a mother and everyone in the family was so happy with the new arrival, including you, that you went to see them with your hands full of presents as soon as you could.

That little bundle was so small and defenceless, in his cradle carefree and ready to live all the life he had ahead of him. You took him in your arms, careful not to be too rough, cuddling him for a while, captivated by that little miracle and swearing to yourself that you would do anything to be an example to him.

Something shiny on his leg had caught your attention, a series of numbers running backwards like a countdown had you raising an eyebrow in confusion. 89:54:12...11...10...09... you had brushed it tentatively but nothing happened.

"You're all right (Y/N)? Is something wrong?" the new mother had asked, seeing you focused on looking at her son's skin and knowing how you were always looking for the smallest details.

Looking up at your sister and back down at the little leg, it was all gone. Just as it had appeared it was gone and you shake your head, "Nah don't worry about it. I'm just still in shock from this beauty"

Over the next few days that episode buzzed around in your head annoyingly, you were curious wanting to find out what it was but at the same time it scared you. What if it was a curse rather than a good thing? Several times you had gone back to visit your nephew and each time the number was different, lower. And you found you could only see it once a day, the sign disappearing just as it appeared. At its own pace. You could only see it on the side of the left leg, it was hard to see when covered up and you couldn't see it on yourself.

That thought now took up all your spare time, you had even researched it on the internet but had not been very lucky. You had found out what it was at your own expense.

You had errands to run that day and got up early, it was a nice day and you thought you'd leave the car in the garage and go for a nice walk. You look down at your phone as you wait for the pedestrian light to turn green and as you do so you realise your shoe is untied. You lean down to fix it and a sparkle draws your attention to your right, a little girl apparently alone with a backpack bigger than her on her shoulders is waiting beside you. 00:00:06 is written on her leg.

The light turns green and lots of people start walking quickly before getting stuck in the red light again. You hurry walking but when people start shouting to be careful you instinctively grab that little girl by her backpack pulling her to you avoiding an accident, a truck that didn't even stop.

"Thank you, ma'am"

"Oh my god are you alright?" you murmur shocked walking the child to the other side of the pavement safely as she nods and then goes on her way, you following her with your eyes. Until she collapses to the ground and you swear your heart skipped a beat as your legs start running towards her, 00:00:00 in red on her leg.

Mason immediately notices something is wrong with you as soon as he opens the door, your expression blank and your face almost colourless. He immediately wraps you in a hug closing the door gently and your grip tightens when he would like to pull away to look you in the eye.

"What's going on (Y/N)?" he asks worriedly, stroking your hair as you shake your head, you held on as you tried to resuscitate that little girl in vain; as they loaded her into the ambulance with the sheet on her tiny body and even as you answered the police's questions. And you're literally exhausted, tears start to roll down your cheeks as Mason forces you to look at him, laying his hands on your cheeks gently but firmly. "You're worrying me"

"There was an accident today" you murmur with a broken voice and he takes a step back to look at you entirely and make sure with his eyes that nothing is out of place. He pulls you to his chest again as he tries to get you to move towards the couch.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" he asks softly not wanting to push you, you sit by his side leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees. Your tongue goes to stop a tear that is falling down powerfully at that moment.

"There was a little girl" you tremble at the mere memory, "she was maybe twelve. And we were... there was a red light and then we crossed and she was alive"

"Oh babe" he sighs stroking your back, watching you shake your head.

"No Mase, she was alive on the other side of the road. Then... then she fell to the ground and-" a sob shakes your body as he looks at you helplessly.

"I knew it"

"What? Babe it was a random accident, you couldn't have known"

"I knew it Mason! I knew something was going to happen but I thought that having saved her from the truck she was going to be saved and instead..."

"What are you saying (Y/N)?"

"Mason, I'm losing my mind" you look at him genuinely scared and he wastes no time in wrapping you around himself again. "You just went through a traumatic event, it's normal for you to feel upset honey"

"No I- I need to tell you something" you sit up properly not breaking eye contact, watching him swallow but waiting for you to continue. And you tell him everything from the beginning trying to be as accurate as possible, from the birth of your nephew to the shiny writing on his leg; the research and testing to find out more and more every day, to that day when you really realised what it was by learning that you can't change fate.

"What's the point if I can't do anything to change it?" is the first thing you ask to a silent Mason, trying to absorb that strong informations all at once. And you can't blame him if he doesn't want to believe you, I mean it's kind of surreal, isn't it?

"You can see the date of people's deaths?"

"Apparently. But please call it a person's lifespan instead" he nods, his hand touching your knee to make you feel his presence and his thumb stroking you gently.

"Wow all this is just... wow. I wonder if there are more of you out there"

"You believe me?" you're on the verge of tears again as he smiles softly.

"Why wouldn't I, you have magic" he manages to make you laugh in spite of everything, a tear escaping your control but you promptly wipe it away.

"How does it work? Does it hurt?"

You shake your head, "I don't feel anything, just this light which is then replaced by numbers... I should have realised sooner" your gaze ending on Mason's legs who is thankfully wearing long trousers, no more numbers for today.

He follows your gaze, "Have you seen mine?" the question pops up and you quickly shake your head closing your eyes. "I can't see it if you've got it covered and I don't want to please"

"No hey it's okay, it's okay" slowly he pulls you with him until you're lying on the couch, you sigh settling yourself better in his arms focusing on his beating heart and nothing more.

"Have you tried searching on the internet?" you nod, "Yeah but I haven't found that much"

"Yeah but maybe now that you know what it's for you can look more properly"

"Some other time. I can't do it now"

"We'll do it together when you want to" he leaves a kiss on your temple as you give him a first sweet smile after all those tears.

Having someone to share all this with turned out to be a godsend. Just as he had said, since the accident Mason had been with you through everything and you had almost moved in with him.

You would have liked to say that you had learned to live with it, but the truth was that since that day you had been so afraid it might happen again that you no longer looked down. Mason had researched it for you, urging you to try this and that, sometimes much more excited about discovering new things about it than you were. But at the same time he'd also given you your space to decide how to deal with it all and you'd simply decided not to deal with it; not being able to do anything to avoid the inevitable had stopped you from studying how to live with it.

Your phone vibrates and Mason's name appears on the screen after a moment, your smile disappearing little by little as you accept the call. Hearing his voice calms you a little, but that doesn't mean you don't feel your heart in your throat when he tells you that he's in the hospital and that he and Declan were in an accident.

He needs you and you don't think twice about getting in the car and driving to him, phone to your ear as your eyes work further than your legs to try and find him as quickly as possible. And when you do, the relief is so intense that you hold him tightly to you as he groans slightly.

"How are you? Declan?"

"Just a few scratches. He was unconscious when they took him away" Mason sits back in the chair and you at his side stroking his back as you let him run through what happened with his mind, holding him in your arms when he breaks down just like he did to you when you needed him.

"(Y/N) I need you to do something for me" you don't need to make him continue any further to understand what's going through his head.

"No Mason" you shake your head seriously, "don't make me do that"

"Please (Y/N), I need to know" he murmurs looking into your eyes.

"Why? Even if it was you couldn't do anything so why would you want to know?"

"I'd like to make sure he's going to be okay and because I could be around if him..." his breath dies in his throat at the very thought.

"I can't" and you try to stop him as he shakes his head walking away to get some air, putting a glass divider between you and him.

Your gaze drifts from him to the door where nurses come in and out, your leg shaking rhythmically. You don't want to be the one to tell him that news, it would destroy him. But then why does it have to be bad news? Yeah, but what if it is?

You look at Mason one last time before getting up, your mind not even registering what you ask the nurse in the hallway; her sweet smile leading you past the room you seek.

"I'll only stay a couple of minutes, thank you very much" the nurse walks away and you watch your friend from a distance, still undecided as to whether that's the right thing to do. Silently you step into the room moving closer until you're beside the bed, Declan has a few scratches on his face and an injured shoulder at first glance but the fact that he's been unconscious for so long doesn't give the doctors the green light to dismiss him at the moment.

His legs are covered by a sheet and for a moment you think it's a sign. Your hand freezing in mid-air on the first try. And then the glow starting to appear even from under the sheet, your hand moving on its own to uncover his leg and your eyes closing at that light more brightly than usual. Your heartbeat the only thing you can hear for a moment until you open your eyes. A few tears escape your control as you pull the sheet down as if you got burned, your hand going to cover your mouth as you hurry out of that room.

"Oh (Y/N) what have you done?" you almost clash with Mason and he's quick to wrap his arms around you as you try to pull yourself together. When he hadn't seen you where he'd left you once he'd gotten back, he'd known immediately and the guilt had hit him hard.

He shouldn't have asked you, not knowing the emotional effort you have to put into all that. Declan was going to be fine and even though his fate may be another, knowing that beforehand wouldn't have changed anything; he'd be by his friend's side no matter what and putting you in that position...

"It's okay, I had to do it. If I can't use it to calm those I love, then when?"

"So...?"

"I can't know what's next for him but Declan still has a long life ahead of him" despite everything it's a relief to hear and the boy cheers slightly, his gaze inevitably shifting to his bed visible from outside.

And maybe that's what it's used for, knowing to be able to spend most of our time with someone we love; no regrets.

"Go to him" Mason leaves a kiss on your lips before going to sit next to his friend. A solid 62:03:20 runs down his leg.

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #declan rice #my writing #original #football imagine #football imagines #football one shot

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azaleavi · 4 years ago

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Woman Like Me Part 2 - Bucky Barnes

Summary: y/n gets to talk to the person who gave her the serum and the others learn more about her

Set in the second half of episode 3 of tfatws

Warning(s): a little violence nothing too strong

Word count: 2.5K

Author’s Note: Part 2 is finally here! Thank you so much for loving part 1, i didn’t expect so many people to like it! I’m actually pretty proud of this part and i would love to write a part 3 and actually make this a series if you like it so give me feedback or tell me what you would like to see in the next part. Thank you!

Part 1

“Okay I have clients coming in a few minutes so enjoy the party and stay out of trouble” Sharon stands up, walking out of the room.

“Trouble” Zemo holds up his glass of whiskey.

“I think we should change” y/n looks at the clothes hanging by the wall, noting that they are still wearing their combat clothes. She can see multiple dresses but there are men’s clothes as well.

They all change out of their older clothes, the men giving y/n space to do it. She chose a simple black dress, appropriate for a party and she looks mesmerising. Bucky couldn’t see with the tactical gear on but she has a really nice figure which makes him stare at her a little longer than he should. Sam notices and decides to speak up.

“You clean up nice y/n” he smiles at her. This shakes Bucky out of his staring, realising what he was doing.

“Thanks. I’ve never really wore something like this before… you know with the whole Harcos thing and all” she shows a small smile.

“By the way, what language is that? I’ve never heard it before” Sam furrows his eyebrows, confused.

“Oh, it’s Hungarian, it means warrior” she rolls her eyes, clearly not amused by the name “I’m hungarian so I guess they thought it was fitting”

“Ah Hungary, what a nice place” Zemo speaks up “nice people too”

“If misogyny, racism and homophobia is nice to you I guess you’re right” y/n sends a sarcastic smile to him.

“We should go up into the party” Bucky intervenes before the conversation can escalate.

“Won’t people recognise you?” Sam asks y/n.

“Nah, I had a mask when I was forced to do the things I did. Not many people got to see my face and lived to tell about it” Bucky shudders, knowing exactly what she was talking about. Sam nods, holding the door open for her “thank you Sam”

The party is already in full swing, groups of people dancing to the music and others looking at the artwork that is displayed across the room. The three men with y/n walk over to the bar, trying to not bring any attention to themselves. They order drinks while waiting for Sharon to get the information. Bucky catches y/n looking at him from where she is sitting. He lifts his eyebrows in question.

“What are you looking at?” he shouts over the loud music.

“You” she is teasing him. He knows it, but that doesn’t mean he can’t play along with her.

“And what about me is so interesting that it got you looking at me instead of the party that’s happening around you?” Bucky tilts his head.

”That will be my secret” she winks at him. Bucky feels like he can’t breath for a second. She suddenly drowns her drink in one swift motion and stands up “I’m assuming you don’t want to dance with me” she grins.

“How can you even dance to music like this?” he asks, genuinely confused. The music back in his days was much better and what they did was actually dancing and not this… thing they are doing now. She looks away laughing. Her eyes catch something that makes her laugh even more.

“I think you should ask Zemo about that” she points at the man showing rather questionable dance moves. Bucky looks at him barely being able to hold his own laughter “well I’ll go mingle with the prime citizens of Madripoor” she does a small wave with her hand, walking away. Bucky watches her leave and doesn’t take his eyes off of her until she disappears in the crowd.

“Does our cyborg man have a crush?” Sam speaks up, having watched the whole interaction between them. Bucky whips his head in his direction, just realising that the other man was there the whole time.

“Definitely not” he answers “we were just talking”

“Talking? Sounded awful lot like flirting to me” Sam grins, making fun of the older man.

“We were not flirting” Bucky shakes his head and looks away to watch the crowd again. Sam only smiles to himself and stops pushing because Sharon appears next to them.

Y/N walks through the dancing people, just looking around and trying to absorb everything. She has never been to a party before, at least not while she was in control of her actions. She caught sight of Zemo again, who was still dancing. It was weird to see the very dangerous criminal just tearing it up on the dance floor. Suddenly someone grabs her hand from behind and turns her around. She almost hits the stranger in the head, but she quickly realises that it’s Bucky holding her. The crowd around them continues dancing, not paying any mind to the two super-soldiers standing among them.

“Hi” she smiles at him. They are standing so close to each other that their chests are almost touching and he is still holding her hands to his chest. Y/n has to tilt her head up so she can look in his eyes. She’s never been this close to a man before that wasn’t during a fight or in a threatening situation. She decides she likes it. Y/n doesn’t know if it’s because it’s Bucky who’s here with her or she would feel like this with any man, but she suddenly gets the urge to stand on her tiptoes and press her lips to his “You came here to dance with me?” she jokingly asks to get the image out of her head.

“You will have to wait for another party for that, Sharon got the information we need so we have to go” Bucky looks into her eyes his pupils slightly dilated, almost as if he was thinking the same thing. He starts lightly pulling her along, out of the crowd.

The next morning they are walking through the containers looking for the one that has Dr. Nagel in it.

“Okay this is the one” Sharon stops them in front a container. She hands them earpieces. Y/n feels a little nervous about meeting the man who turned her into what she is today. Bucky notices her fidgeting and puts his hand on her shoulder to reassure her. She gives him a small smile, grateful that he is here for her. She is wearing the same tactical gear she did when they first met which, crazy enough, was only yesterday. They walk through the door only to find it completely empty. Sam asks Sharon if she is sure it’s the right one and she tells them that it has to be. Zemo walks to the end of it and pushes only to find a hidden door.

“Fancy” y/n remarks, walking through it after Sam. They walk up the stairs and find a lab with music playing from a record player. Sam takes the needle off the record. Nagel turns around, scared.

“Dr. Nagel? We know you created the super-soldier serum” Sam says calmly.

“Get out of my lab” Nagel starts walking towards the door, but then sees Y/n standing there with a gun in her hand. The anger in her eyes is enough to stop him “Harcos” he says and she grits her teeth together.

“Do not call me that” she tries to stay calm.

“Jelentsd a feladatod, Harcos” he starts talking in Hungarian. State your mission, Warrior. She falters for a second, not having heard her language in a while. Selby only talked to her in English. Bucky looks at her worried as she points her gun at Nagel and takes the safety off.

“Az nem fog megtörténni” she answers. Not gonna happen. Sam looks between them, also worried for her. He thinks they shouldn’t have brought her with them, they didn’t think this through. What if Nagel knows the words and uses her against them? “Now why don’t you tell us about the serum you’re working on?” she switches back to English and pushes him back into a chair, her gun still pointed at him.

“I was brought into Hydra’s Winger Soldier program to pick up their work” he starts talking “after that I was recruited by the CIA. They had a blood sample that had semi-stable traces of serum in it” he looks at y/n who is still pointing her gun at him but this time he doesn’t cower in fear “after much labour, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in it and that’s when I made her. The only successful outcome from over 40 tries” he stops for a second and Bucky can see a hint of something in his eyes. Before he can pin point what it is Nagel speaks again “Tizenhét” he says suddenly and y/n is immediately in front of him with her gun under his chin. Seventeen. The look in her eyes show that she is ready to kill.

“Say another word and you get a bullet in your head” she says through her teeth trying really hard to not shoot him right then and there.

“What did he say?” Sam asks not understanding the reaction from her.

“What do you call it? Trigger word?” Nagel smiles at her even though his life is on the line. The three men tense at the mention of that. Bucky steps next to her and for a moment she thinks he is going to pull her away but instead he also points his gun at Nagel.

“I will not hesitate” he says gesturing towards his gun.

“Do not worry, I only know the first word” he says, amused, but his eyes seem honest. They think about it for a second but pull their guns away from his head. Bucky looks at her, trying to catch her eyes. She looks back with a very small hint of tears in her eyes. He gets the urge to hug her but he knows he can’t do that right here so he only shows her a small encouraging smile.

“As I said: you try to say something about this and you won’t have time to finish that word” she starts walking away from Nagel “And you didn’t make me”she says as she stands next to a table, referring to his earlier statement “Continue” she orders him. So he does. He tells them about Karli and the woman called Donya Madani. He finishes with details about his serum, how it’s not like the ones before.

“I was a god” Nagel smiles like the crazy person he is “before I turned to dust and then Karli stole it” Y/n feels her angel boil and she lets it loose again.

“You are not a god” she shouts and slams her fist down on the table, a few vials falling down and breaking on the ground. Nagel flinches and tries to make himself smaller in his chair, immediately sensing the danger he is in. She lifts up her hand, realising that the table is now bent and you can see her fist’s outline in it “You are not a god” she repeats a little more calmly, but the anger can still be seen in her eyes “You never were and never will be. You just took in children who had nothing and tried to turn them into your version of the Winter Soldier” Bucky can’t help but feel like it’s his fault that she is in this situation. If the Winter Soldier didn’t exist y/n wouldn’t have had to go through these horrible things. She walks closer to the doctor “We were never asked if we wanted this. You told us it was some vaccine you were giving us and not the serum” while she is talking none of them see Zemo go around and get a gun from under one of the tables.

“Guys we are seriously out of time here” Sharon comes in and as soon as the rest of them don’t pay attention to Nagel, Zemo shoots him. Sam immediately takes the gun from him but it’s too late.

“What did you do?” he shouts at the other man but before he can answer the place blows up sending all of them backwards to the floor. Their ears are ringing and they can barely breathe. Zemo is the first to get up and he leaves them behind. Bucky gets back his senses quickly and searches for the rest to see if they are okay. Y/n is next to him trying to make sense of what happened and being a super-soldier she gets up at the same time as Bucky and helps Sam up while Bucky helps Sharon. They run outside as quickly as they can and realise that they are surrounded by people who are ready to kill them.

“Alright wait for my signal” Bucky speaks up, ready to take lead. Sam doesn’t listen to him and just runs out to take shelter “damn it” they start shooting with their pistols that they got from Sharon. Bucky stands next to y/n as his gun runs out of bullets. The both of them retreat to where Sam and Sharon are with y/n protecting his back.

“I thought we were gonna go left?” Bucky shouts at Sam.

“You went the wrong way” Sam answers, also shouting.

“I was clearing the way”

“I came out first. You were supposed to follow me”

“And where are we now” they go back and forth in the middle of the fight, like an old married couple.

“Can we talk about this later? We are kind of in the middle of something here!” Y/n interrupts them, trying to get them to focus. She and Sharon are still shooting.

“It’s in every action movie” the two men don’t even acknowledge her. Zemo appears on the top of a container in a purple mask and shoots at a pipe that blows up, giving the others enough time to get away. There are still people shooting at them as they run through the alleys. A man appears behind them and y/n kicks him hard enough that he flies across the open space and hits one of the containers. He falls to the ground unconscious. Another woman is in front of them and Bucky rips one of the pipes from the door and impales her with it. Y/n looks at him, impressed.

“You’ll have to teach me that” she grins. Bucky rolls his eyes, grabs her waist and pulls her inside. They punch the door open on the other side and Zemo shows up in a very nice looking car. It’s supercharged he says. Sam is ready to send him back to jail but Bucky reminds him that they need him to find Karli. Y/n agrees so she goes and sits behind Zemo. Bucky gets in the passenger seat while Sam sits next to her. They say goodbye to Sharon and Sam promises her that pardon. Before Zemo starts driving Bucky turns to y/n.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah” she answers with a little smile.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #tfatws spoilers #tfatws #sebastian stan #bucky #the falcon and the winter solider spoilers #marvel #the falcon and the winter soldier #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky fanfic

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prettiestvulcan · 3 years ago

Text

pairing: enji todoroki x oc

rating: explicit

wc:

summary: a summer getaway gets heated, in more ways than one.

warnings: none

a/n: part of @delirieum's hot milf summer collab!

She’s always had a dislike for summer. The sticky, humid heat. The influx of tourists, which meant more crime. The increase in her number of patrols. Summer meant more work in near unbearable conditions.

There is one plus to summer, though. It means the kids are out of school, so she gets to spend more time with them. Sure, during the day she’s always on patrol, but then she gets to pick them up from her parents’ house and take them to pick out dinner. They don’t have to be in bed for school, so she can introduce them to her favorite childhood movies.

This summer is different, though. Her parents are taking their grandkids on a vacation and she can’t go with them. Work is having their own week-long mandatory ‘vacation’, which involves flying out to an island for team-building exercises disguised as fun. It’s the first time the agency has done something like this, but her guess as to why is as good as anyone else’s.

“Mommy, do you have to go?” Her youngest asks. She kneels before him, giving him a soft smile.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but mommy has to go because of work.” He pouts, crossing his arms with a frown.

“I don’t want you to go.” Isaac looks close to tears. “I don’t want to go with Nanny and Pappy. I want to go with Mommy.”

“Isaac,” she brushes tears from his cheeks with a thumb. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Mommy will be back. And I’ll call every night before bedtime.”

“Promise?” He sniffles. She nods, holding out her pinky. He grins, wrapping his much smaller pinky around hers.

“I pinky-promise,” she answers. His tears have started to dry up.

“Okay,” he finally relents. “I’ll go with Nanny and Pappy.”

“That’s my boy,” she ruffles his hair, the curls catching occasionally. He doesn’t seem to notice.

He runs off towards the front door, giggling the whole way. She stands, watching him go with a smile. He’s always been a cheerful kid, willing to do as she asks. She’s grateful for it. However, her eldest isn’t as agreeable. Perhaps being close to ten, she’s just going through a face. She was a fussy baby, though, so something tells her she just takes too much after her father.

“Why do I have to go?” Hazel starts. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions.”

“Hazel,” she reproaches. “I don’t have time to find you a babysitter. Nanny and Pappy already agreed to take you somewhere fun.”

“Ugh,” she groans. “Whatever, mom.” Hazel storms off without another word. She frowns, watching her go. If only there was some way she could make both of them happy. She hadn’t lied, though; the trip for work was very sudden and she didn’t have time to look for a babysitter. It was only through luck that her parents had agreed to take them on vacation with them this year. Perhaps because they were both old enough not to need as much supervision and constant care.

With a sigh, she grabs her suitcase once more and climbs into the taxi. She really wishes she could have given Hazel a goodbye hug, but she knows her daughter well enough to know that wouldn’t have gone down easily. There would have been a lot of yelling and pushing, possibly some kicking. She really hopes Hazel doesn’t regret not saying goodbye.

The taxi drops her off outside the entrance of the airport. She takes her suitcase from the trunk before heading inside. The layout is huge, but everything is clearly marked and mapped. She has no issues finding the check-in for the airline. Finding the gate is even easier, since each gate is in a specific order. She sits down to wait for their boarding time, taking her phone out to make sure there are no calls or texts from her parents. Thankfully, there are none so everything must be alright.

She decides to look around the area from her seat, spotting several familiar faces in the seats around her. They all seem absorbed in their own activities, so she leaves them be. She was never really familiar with any of the other sidekicks, anyway. Being a single parent meant she didn’t have much time for get-togethers, so she was always turning down invites after patrols. They’re always friendly towards her, however, so she thinks they’re all on good terms. They probably understand her hesitance to leave her kids at home with the babysitter longer than needed.

After a while, it’s time to board the plane. It’s her first time flying since before Isaac was born, but she still remembers the drill. Show your boarding pass, get it scanned, find your seat. It’s very straightforward. Everything about the trip so far has been, which is something she’s grateful for. She’s not a huge fan of surprises. Never has been. Although she supposes Isaac and Hazel are two surprises she absolutely couldn’t live without.

Soon, the pre-flight announcements are beginning. She’s surprised to see no one in the seat beside her. It’s nearly a full plane, though she’s not going to complain. It just means she has more room to stretch out. She listens to the pre-flight announcements, turning off her phone as instructed. She takes her in-flight bag off the floor, putting it in the empty seat beside her. She couldn’t quite reach the overhead bin and had been too embarrassed to ask for help.

The plane takes off, bringing with it a slew of emotions. She’s excited to be going somewhere, even if it’s for work, but she’s going to miss her kids. Not being able to see them for an entire week? It’s an entirely new experience for her. She’s been home with them basically since they were each born. She’s been there to kiss ouchies better, to read them stories before bed, tuck them in with a kiss on their foreheads. She’s been there to wipe their tears, to make them smile and laugh. Being away from them will be a new experience for all of them, but at least they won’t be completely alone. She trusts her parents to take care of them, just like they cared for her as a child.

She takes comfort in that thought, relaxing back against the seat. She hadn’t realized how tense she’d been the whole time, but once she relaxes the soreness of her muscles makes itself known. She rubs at her thigh, trying to soothe some of the pain. It works, to some degree. She’ll just have to remind herself to relax and take something for the pain once the plane lands.

She rests her head against the headrest, closing her eyes. Nothing wrong with a nap on the flight. Just as long as the turbulence of landing wakes her, she’ll be fine. She feels herself slipping into unconsciousness….

The island is beyond anything she could have imagined. It’s lush and tropical, palm trees dotted everywhere. The air smells like salt from the sea, but somehow still refreshing compared to city air. Even the hotel is magnificent. There’s an indoor spa! She’s never stayed anywhere with its own spa.

They arrive late the first day, so they’re told to find their rooms and get settled in. They’ll receive instructions the next day, according to Burnin who is giving the orders. She wonders if Endeavor will show or if this whole event is being organized by Burnin. She’s certainly capable of doing it.

She spends the first night unpacking and familiarizing herself with the hotel. There’s so many extra amenities and she hopes she has time to try out some of them. She takes photos of the view from her hotel window, sending it to her parents so they can show Isaac and Hazel. When she’s finished exploring, she retires to her room and makes the promised call.

Everyone is doing great, of course. They also made it to their hotel, which Isaac excitedly informs her has an indoor pool. Hazel is much less talkative, but seems to be in high spirits even if she doesn’t outright say it. She’s glad they’re enjoying their trip so far and hopes they keep up the momentum. When they finish swapping stories, she wishes them goodnight and tells them she’ll talk more tomorrow.

The next day, they all have breakfast in the hotel’s café before convening outside. It’s more upscale dining than what she’d have expected. Once outside, Burnin gathers everyone close before speaking.

“Hello, everyone!” Her voice easily carries across the crowd. “I hope you’re ready for a fun week!”

There are cheers from the other sidekicks.

“Well, have I got a surprise for all of you.” She’s close enough to see Burnin grin. “There’s no agenda for this week, aside from getting out there and having fun together!”

No agenda? She’s a little surprised by that. She thought this was a mandatory team-building trip, not just a vacation. She feels conflicted. On one hand, she’s glad for the opportunity. On the other, she had fully expected the week to be planned out for her so now she’s at a loss.

What does one even do on vacation? It’s been eighteen years since she’s done anything by herself. Sure, she’s taken weekend trips with Hazel and Isaac but never alone. And never somewhere so opulent or tropical. She doesn’t know what to do with herself now.

“Now get out there and have fun!” She snaps back to reality at the sound of everyone’s cheers, before shuffling back inside the hotel. Whatever she wants to do, huh?

She changes into something more comfortable, having expected there to be training. Thankfully, she had thought ahead and packed extra clothes on the off-chance there was any free time. It looks like her foresight had come in handy, as she takes out her bathing suit and coverup. Nothing like a trip to the beach.

She’s surprised that there’s no rigorous training. Endeavor is known for running a tight ship, so this whole trip seems out of character. Then again, ever since his last major fight, something had changed. He’s still just as strict, but he seems almost approachable now. A little more lenient. She’s certainly not as terrified of being called to his office anymore.

She wonders if he’s come on this trip, as well, or if he’s staying back at the office. He could use the trip, she feels. He’s always working so hard. Besides, she swears she saw his youngest in the crowd. If his son is here, surely he would’ve come as well.

Someone clears their throat behind her and she startles, realizing she’s just been staring at the open elevator doors. She shakes her head, murmuring an apology, and enters the elevator. The figure behind her enters, as well, and as she turns her eyes go wide.

“Endeavor, sir,” she hurries to greets, giving a polite bow. “Thank you for this opportunity.”

He doesn’t say anything, just looks at her with a grimace. She wonders if she’s said something wrong before he grumbles something under his breath, inclining his head in acknowledgment. He doesn’t say anything else, but she’s shocked to see him. She wants to comment on it, but the elevator arrives at the ground floor before she can figure it out.

“Ah, Endeavor, sir,” she calls out without thinking.

“Please call me Enji.” She can’t help the eyebrow that raises. “We’re on vacation. I’m not your boss right now.”

“Of course, Enji, sir.” He doesn’t look pleased with the added ‘sir’ so she tries again. “Alright. Enji.” It feels awkward coming out of her mouth. He’s been her boss for the better part of a decade and never once called him by name.

He seems pleased by the amendment on her part, though it’s hard to tell with him. She shifts her weight from foot to foot, trying to figure out why she even called out to him. He waits, turquoise eyes trained on her.

“Would you like to come to the beach with me?” She almost smacks herself with how bold she’s being. Sure, he’s been nice to her over the past few months, but that doesn’t mean he wants to be friendly.

He looks just as surprised by the offer, one eyebrow raised. She purses her lips to keep from saying anything more, waiting on an answer. Her heart pounds in her chest. Finally, he speaks.

“You’re going to the beach?” She nods. “I’ll accompany you. I was headed there regardless.”

She takes in his appearance for the first time, noting the swim shorts. He’s wearing a white t-shirt, a towel slung over his shoulders. She nods to show she understands, eyes moving back up his hulking frame, to find his eyes also looking over her.

Had she just been caught checking out her boss?

Had she just caught her boss checking her out?

The thought brings warmth to her cheeks. She ducks her head down, though she’s sure he’s already seen her blush. She decides to take the lead, brushing past him towards the door. She can feel him follow, after a few tense seconds.

She feels a little silly. She’s too old to be checking out other men, let alone her boss. It doesn’t matter if he’s older; he has his own family. She knows he has at least three kids, though she’s never heard about their mother. He has to be married, though. There’s no way a man like him hasn’t been snatched up.

She tries to push those thoughts aside, instead focusing on walking down to the beach. It’s not far from the hotel; might as well consider it the backyard. The closer they get, the more of the ocean she can smell. She’s not sure it’s an entirely pleasant scent.

There isn’t much in the way of conversation. For her, it’s just too awkward to start one and he’s not exactly known for being chatty. She’s sure he doesn’t find it awkward at all, the silence. But she does.

As she scrambles to come up with something to say, they finally arrive at the beach. There’s a few others on the beach, rainbow color of towels spread along the sand. She tries to find a spot some distance from the main crowd, not wanting to interrupt or intrude.

She expects him to part once they reach the beach, but he keeps pace with her easily. She did invite him to come with, but she hadn’t actually expected him to follow through. Sure, they talk at work about work. But conversations about patrols are entirely different from conversations about life and the weather.

They lay their towels out, red and blue side by side. It’s a little closer than she’d been expecting, but still a respectable distance apart. She hesitates a brief moment before pulling her coverup off, folding it and setting it aside. She has nothing to be embarrassed about.

Hero work has been good to her. Even after two kids, her physique is still desirable. She’s not exactly slim, but she’s muscular enough to hide the chub from two kids. She has very few major scars, the most notable being the faded white scar on her right leg from a piece of metal out of a falling building. She’s lucky it didn’t take her entire leg.

“I’m going to swim,” she announces to her company. He inclines his head, again not saying anything. She leaves him where he’s reclining on his towel, heading down to the water.

She feels more comfortable in the water. It’s cool and refreshing, compared to the sticky heat on the beach. She takes her time in the water, swimming around and floating. She even rides a few waves to the shore before swimming back out. When she’s had enough, she returns to her towel.

Endeavor—Enji, she corrects herself. He’s still laid out on his towel, but his eyes open when he hears her approach. She flops down onto her towel, feeling energized after her swim. She turns her head to face Enji, having felt his eyes on her.

He’s wearing an inscrutable expression. He’s not exactly easy to read, but it looks as if he’s taking extra care not to express any emotion. She offers him a smile, not sure what to do or say. He doesn’t return it, but he does finally look away.

She peers up at the clear blue sky, wondering what kind of exchange that was. She rests her arms behind her head, closing her eyes. It’s a vacation. She’s going to get in as many naps as possible….

She wakes sometimes later, having been shaken awake. She blinks a few times to clear the sleep from her vision.

“The tide is coming in,” Enji tells her. She nods to show her understanding before sitting up. She stretches with a yawn. “Dinner?”

She’s not sure if it’s a question or a demand.

“Sure,” she agrees. “I could go for something to eat.” She stands, grabbing her towel. She shakes off as much sand as possible before slipping her coverup back on.

“We should change at the hotel,” he says.

“Good idea.” She looks down at herself. “A quick shower might be good, too.” She gives him a crooked smile. He nods and she swears she sees the ghost of a smile on his lips.

She feels significantly less uncomfortable on the walk back, perhaps because he’s actually not that scary. He’s just not very talkative. And if she doesn’t think about how he’s her boss, it’s almost like hanging out with a friend. A very new friend. Okay, maybe it’s still a little awkward.

Dinner is a quick and quiet affair. He doesn’t say much and she isn’t sure what to say. When they finish, they bid each other a good night and go their separate ways. She takes the time to call her parents so she can speak with Isaac and Hazel. They tell her all about their trip so far and she shares hers.

“You spoke with Mr. Endeavor?” Isaac seems in awe.

“Yeah, sweetie. I spoke with Mr. Endeavor.”

“Can you get his autograph for me?” She can hear the excitement in his voice.

“His autograph?” She repeats.

“Yes!” Isaac is definitely bouncing on the other end. “I saw him on the TV! He’s my new favorite Hero!” She chuckles.

“Sure thing, sweetie. I’ll get his autograph for you.” It shouldn’t be too difficult. He is her boss and she’s sure he’s used to being asked for it.

“You’re the best, Mommy!” She smiles at that.

“Love you, too, sweetie.”

“Okay, I’m gonna give the phone to Hazel now.” There’s a shuffling noise before she hears Hazel’s voice.

“How are things going, Mom?”

“They’re going well,” she answers. “How are you doing?”

“It’s okay.” She hears Hazel shrug. “Nanny took me to the museum, so I guess it’s alright.”

“The museum?” She prompts. “Which one?”

“The Hero Museum,” there’s a smile in her voice. “It was pretty cool.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.” She really is. Hazel is a difficult child sometimes, but her interests aren’t outside the realm of any other ten-year-old. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“Love you too, Mom,” Hazel huffs. “I’m giving you back to Nanny now.” More noise as the phone is swapped to another.

She talks to her mom for a few more minutes, just to be sure the kids are behaving. Her mom assures her that everything is fine and to enjoy her own vacation.

The next day is spent much the same: at the beach with her boss. Enji. She keeps having to remind herself. She does manage to get his autograph, explaining it’s for her youngest. He asks about him, and she’s more than happy to talk about her kids.

He speaks about his own children, much older than her own, but there’s pride in his voice as he speaks about them. She can’t help but smile, her laughter coming freely when he tells embarrassing stories about them. It feels like she’s getting to know him and she can’t help but like what she’s seeing.

It’s hard not to find him physically attractive, but she’s old enough to not be distracted by a pretty body. She’s worked for his agency for nearly ten years; she’s long gotten used to the way he looks. But something about their conversations has her reassessing him.

The third day on the island, something feels different between them. He feels warmer, somehow. It isn’t exactly anything particular he does. It’s in the way they lean towards each other when they speak, the way they keep bumping into each other, the way they keep finding ways to spend time together. It’s a combination of all these things that has her heart pounding when she sees him.

She decides to make a move. Either he ignores it or he reciprocates. Either way, there’s no harm done. They’re on vacation. Perhaps she’s feeling a little risky because of it. Away from work, away from her kids, she’s feeling a little more brave than usual.

It’s been years since she last was with anyone. After Isaac’s father left, she swore off dating and catching feelings in general. It was just too much of a hassle. Why now, after all these years, she isn’t sure. Something about it just feels different. Feels right.

They go out for dinner as usual, but she invites him to the hotel bar afterwards. She doesn’t fully expect him to agree, so when he does she’s feeling more confident. They sit next to each other at the near empty hotel bar, drinks in hand.

When she makes a joke, laughing at it while he gives a slight grin, she reaches out to put her hand on his arm. He looks surprised by it at first, eyes going slightly wider. She wonders for a brief moment if she’s overstepped, pulling her hand back, but he quickly grabs it before she can withdraw.

They stare at one another, neither saying anything. It’s like he’s waiting for a signal. She nods. He moves into action, pulling her up from her seat. He keeps their fingers entwined, tugging her along to the elevator.

It’s actually happening, she realizes, as she leads him to her hotel room. She didn’t think this would ever actually happen.

He presses her against the hotel door, mouth hot and heavy on hers. She grasps at his arms, his shirt, anything she can reach to keep herself afloat. She’s quickly giving in, sinking further into his desires. She doesn’t think she wants to fight them anymore.

His mouth moves down to her neck, biting and kissing. She can’t help the sounds spilling from her and just hopes no one in the rooms around can hear her. His hands—big, so big—tug at her dress until she’s slipping the straps from her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground.

His bright turquoise eyes stare at her, wearing nothing more than a pair of lacy underwear. She feels intimidated by that heavy gaze, feels the urge to cover herself.

“Don’t,” he growls as he grabs her hands, pulling them away. “Let me see you.”

She lets her hands fall to the side, trying not to feel so self-conscious. She tries not to think of all the stretch marks across her belly and thighs, on the tops of her breasts. She tries to remind herself that they wouldn’t be here if he didn’t see something desirable about her body.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, cupping a breast. It fits perfectly in his hand, his thumb rubbing circles against her nipple. She squirms, a moan slipping from her parted lips.

“You too,” she tosses back. “I want to see you, too.” He grins, something crooked and slightly menacing. But he pulls away from her, tugging off his shirt and shorts. She reaches for the last piece separating them from each other, pulling them down.

She can’t help but stare. She knew he was a large man, but it couldn’t have prepared her for how proportionate that made him. Long and thick, red at the head. She wraps her hand around him as best she can, giving a few short tugs, and hears him groan. Will it even fit?

She doesn’t have much more room for thought as he pulls her in for another kiss, tugging her towards the bed. She goes willingly, wanting nothing more than to feel him against her. He nibbles at her bottom lip and she licks at his; soon their tongues tangle together. It’s been so long since she’s been with anyone like this. She hopes she can make it as good for him as it feels for her.

She lays on the bed, situating herself against the pillows. She beckons him, wanting to close the distance between them. He lays himself atop her, balanced by his hands on either side of her hips. He kisses her, sweeter this time. Not as desperate.

He kisses a path down her neck, across her shoulder, before dipping to take a nipple into his mouth. She shudders, pleasure welling within her. She runs a hand through his hair, red strands tickling between her fingers. He hums, licking and sucking her nipples.

“Enji,” she whines, pushing on his head. He chuckles, moving lower. He plants kisses across her stomach, still a little pudgy from her last pregnancy nearly eight years ago. She feels self-conscious about it, but the way he worships her body makes it a little better.

Finally, he’s exactly where she wants him. He wastes no time, diving right into his task. Her head knocks against the headboard, but the brief bloom of pain is nothing compared to the sensation between her legs.

He eats her out like a man starved. A little uncoordinated, but enthusiastic. His tongue circles her clit before flicking it, a single thick finger toying with her hole. She grips the blankets beneath them, unable to stop the noises slipping out of her kiss-swollen lips.

He slips a single finger in finally. It’s as thick as two of her own, but she knows she’s going to need the preparation if he’s going inside of her. She squirms, wanting to clamp her legs shut, but his shoulders keep her spread. She has no choice but to give in to the onslaught of sensations.

And give in she does. Head thrown back, mouth open and spilling profanity with his name mixed in. She couldn’t keep quiet if she wanted to and she can tell he definitely doesn’t want her to keep quiet. That single finger pumps in and out, stretching her, before he adds a second.

It’s almost too much, but she forces her body to relax. She’s soaking, giving him plenty to work with. His spit and her fluids ease the way for that second finger. She moans, pressing down against him. She feels his laughter, a gentle vibration through her cunt.

“Please,” she begs. “Want you inside.”

She’s ready for it. She can handle it. He pulls off, looking up at her, and she can’t help but flush at the sight of him. His chin is wet with her juices, his lips swollen. He shifts up, towering above her, and reaches down to line himself up.

Her mouth opens on a silent moan as he pushes in, stretching her beyond what she thought she was capable of. It’s painful at first, but as she has time to adjust it morphs into pleasure.

“Finally,” his voice rumbles through her. “Been wanting to do this.”

She whines, pushing her hips down and against him. She needs him to move already. It’s been ages since she last got fucked and she’s eager for it. She wants him to pound her into the mattress until she forgets who she is.

He delivers on those fantasies. He fucks into her roughly and with abandon, until she’s moaning his name and his name only. He shoves two of his fingers into her mouth and she sucks on them, drool seeping from the corner of her mouth. She doesn’t even care, too busy with the feel of him.

She doesn’t even care anymore when things changed between them. The only thing she cares about in that moment is coming around his cock. She can worry about feelings and emotions later. Right now, she’s only focused on reaching that high.

He reaches between them to roll his thumb against her clit and she can feel her eyes roll to the back of her head. Just a few circles and she’s cumming hard around his cock. He fucks her through it, fingers shoved deep in her mouth.

When she comes down, she takes a moment to appreciate the fucked out look on his face. The squinting of his eyes as he concentrates, the sweat beading on his temples, and the slack-jawed grunts and groans spilling from his lips.

“Inside,” she tells him. “Come inside me.” It’s a risky request, but she wants it. He does, too, judging by the way his thrusts speed up until he growls and spills inside of her.

When he pulls up, she feels his semen trickle down the inside of her thighs. He collapses onto the bed beside her, but searches for her hand among the sheets. He laces their fingers together and she smiles up at the ceiling.

The mood is ruined by the sound of her ringtone, however. She’s tempted not to answer, but it might be her parents calling about the kids. With a sigh and a silent promise to return, she gets out of the bed to answer.

“Mommy!” Her son, Isaac, shouts from the other side. “Are you coming home yet?”

“Not yet, sweetie,” she laughs. “In a few more days.”

“Awww,” he pouts. “You’re with Mr. Endeavor, right, mommy?”

“Yeah,” her voice is soft with affection as she gazes towards the bed, where Enji is lounging.

“Did you get his autograph for me?” She chuckles, but confirms she did.. “Yay! You’re the best, mommy!”

Isaac hands the phone off to her mother, who updates her on her eldest who refuses to come to the phone. It’s just like Hazel to be so stubborn. They’re doing fine, her mother assures her, and tells her to enjoy her only vacation in eight years. She just laughs, but promises to have as much fun as possible.

When she’s finished, she sets her phone back down on the desk and wanders back to the bed. Enji greets her with open arms and she rests her head on his chest. She listens to his heartbeat, letting it lull her to sleep.

Best getaway ever, is her final thought before she falls asleep.

#🖖🏻.writes #bnha #endeavor x oc

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elysiadjarin · 3 years ago

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Sword and Shield 3

Summary: Bad Batch x reader (you), fem!coded, poly!relationship, multi-part series, nonhuman!reader, Echo later on

Chapter 2: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/653202473626025984/sword-and-shield

Warning: Mentions of previous abuse/trauma, and an injury.

3: Integrate

Nervously, you bit your lip and tugged at your hair. You’d secured it so it would stay out of your face for the mission, and you’d already gone over the notes you’d taken the previous day as you’d gotten ready for the day. Dressed in your gear, you double-checked that you had everything.

The whole crew had gathered in the cockpit while approaching the mission site to receive orders from Hunter.

“Tech, tell them the layout and strategy.”

Tech adjusted his goggles and pulled up a holoscreen. “Our mission is to obtain some information that’s been stored in a vault underneath this Separatist bunker,” he said, pointing at the map. It zoomed in on the bunker’s location, revealing the armored doors.

“It’s only going to be there for one day before it’s supposed to be moved, so we have to move in on this intel as soon as possible,” Tech continued, laying out the stakes. “This might be our only chance to get our hands on his information, especially since this base is out in the middle of nowhere. It’s held in the base, but there’s not much of a guard around the bunker itself.”

“So how are we getting in?” Wrecker asked, clearly eager to get to the plan.

“The biggest problem is going to be getting in. Once we’re in, it’ll be a quick and easy trip to the vault. There’s a holopad right by the doorway. I need a running distraction to let me get close enough to hack it and get us in.” Tech adjusted his glasses.

“Cross will find a point to pick off whoever comes in and out of those doors,” Hunter spoke up, focused on piloting while he listened. “Wrecker, we’re going to need you to try to run as big of a distraction as possible and keep them occupied. Tech will get close to the door, and I’ll follow behind him as close as possible to watch his back while he’s hacking the keypad.”

Tech turned to you, observing you. “We don’t know much about your skills yet. Do you see a place that would best suit you?”

You thought for a moment, eyebrows furrowing as you ran though the plan in your mind. “I’ve studied the footage and information you gave me yesterday,” you said, slow but even. “Considering the way we’re approaching this, I think I should be most useful if the Sergeant uses me as a weapon. Since I’m versatile and can be changed depending on what the situation requires, the close combat might be best for me. Plus, once we’re in, I might be able to help clear a path.”

“Sounds like a solid plan,” Hunter said crisply. “Hold on, we’re entering the atmosphere.”

Everyone grabbed onto something or strapped in as the descent began, and you grabbed onto a hanging strap, bracing your feet. You caught sight of Wrecker turning to you, and you glanced up at him instinctively.

“Oh, hey, thanks for the food yesterday!” he called over the rattling, grinning so wide that you swore you could count his teeth. “It was really good!”

The comment took you off guard, and you had to grab onto another strap to keep yourself from sliding against the floor. “Y-you’re welcome,” you called back, feeling some heat creep up your neck and cheeks. You supposed that answered your question about whether they’d at least found the portions.

Hunter evened the ship out as you broke through the atmosphere, leveling out and beginning to more smoothly descent. Everyone relaxed again, checking gear and preparing for the landing itself.

You took in a deep breath, closing your eyes for a moment in order to mentally prepare yourself. You’d have to create a Transference Bond with the Sergeant, so it would take a moment. You only opened your eyes once you felt the landing gear hit the ground and the ship settle in landing.

Hunter stood once the process was complete, turning. “Let’s go.” Once at the ramp, he turned to the group. “Gear and Plan?” He checked. Running his eyes over everyone and getting their confirmation, he turned to you. “Commander Rex explained a little of the process of Transference Bonding to me to give me a basis of understanding. I suppose it wouldn’t be the best idea to do it all at once.”

You shook your head. “I could, but it’s easier to do it one by one to give me a distinction between each Bond,” you answered, knowing the importance of explaining how you worked.

He nodded. Taking a breath, he held out his hand to you. “I suppose it’s time. Everyone watch and listen closely for when you have to do it yourself,” he ordered.

You nodded back, straightening. “You have to offer your hand and say ‘Permission to Transfer.’ It begins the process for me to able to start Transference.”

Hunter stared at you, focused. “Permission to Transfer,” he repeated in a firm, even tone.

You let the sensation of the sucking whirlpool in your gut start to grow stronger, stirred by the initiating words. Deliberately, you reached out and grasped his hand. “Once I finish the initiating words, you’re going to feel a strange sensation like you’re absorbing something into your body. Don’t fight it, just let it happen so I can stabilize the connection,” you warned. “If you feel anything like a weird snap or push in the back of your head, that’s just the Bond solidifying.” You took in a deep breath. “The more open you let yourself be towards me, the stronger the connection.”

Hunter nodded in understanding.

You closed your eyes. “Transfer Granted,” you said, finishing the circuit. Again, you worked through the suctioning sensation, allowing your body to Shift into a basic form you knew very well. Opening your eyes once the sensations settled, you checked the Bond and stability of your connection.

Hunter had been surprisingly receptive compared to most first-time Handlers, and you found the Bond to be pretty sturdy all things considered. As soon as you feel comfortable, getting used to the new Handler, you let yourself materialize over his shoulder.

“I usually start out with a standard blaster,” you said, your voice a little wispier than normal as you pointed at the blaster in his hand.

He stared down at the weapon, turning it over in his hands. “I can hear you both out loud and like... like an echo in my head,” he remarked, voice a little terse.

You nodded. “It’s part of the Bonding. You can communicate with me out loud, but in cases when silence is required or for quick-time response, there’s a limited mental connection created. You can either speak in words or visualize, whichever comes more easily to you. That’s also how you can customize me as a weapon, by visualizing or describing to me the specific modifications that you want,” you explained, used to the process by now. “I don’t read your mind, you have to sort of... push them towards me, in a sense. It’s a limited connection,” you added, knowing the trepidation of the idea of someone possibly being able to read your mind.

He relaxed a little at that, and a blurred image started to bloom in the back of your mind. You tilted your head, and slowly the image started to crystallize as Hunter got used to the Bond and the communication. You picked up on the request, and between one breath and the next, you had Shifted into a modified blaster specifically balanced to his preference.

You took in a breath. “Please be patient with me,” you requested. “It takes me a little while to become completely accustomed to your particular fighting styles in order to best accommodate to your strengths. It may take me some time in the beginning.”

Wrecker bent forward, squinting at you. “Hey Shiv — I can call you that, right? — why do you look so... blurry?”

Tech adjusted his goggles. “It’s more like she’s a shadow, Wrecker,” he remarked clinically, observing you closely. “I think it’s the only way she can manifest herself since she’s technically the weapon itself.”

You nodded at him. “Tech is right. It’s kind of my astral form,” you confirmed.

“Cool!” Wrecker grinned at the general vicinity of your face.

“Alright, let’s go,” Hunter said, starting down the ramp and off towards the direction of the base.

You mentally picked apart the details of the modified weapon he’d shown you, making sure your copy of it was exact down to the weight and size. You tried your best to recall all the footage you’d analyzed the day before, specifically the patterns you’d noticed and highlighted about the Sergeant. You’d have to try to accommodate yourself to his movements and attempt to predict his preferences in weaponry and how he chose to utilize it. That way, you could start to make your performance seamless and save precious nanoseconds of response time that could mean the difference between life and death.

He glanced down at you, feeling the slight shift in the weight as you adjusted. A distant voice sounded in the back of your mind. If I wanted to change weapons, how would I ask?

You strained to hear. Project a little more towards the area you feel like the Bond is. You coached. You’re a bit faint.

He repeated the question, and it sounded much clearer and louder.

Thank you. I can hear better. The best way is to either mentally request it, or to visualize it again like you did to modify this blaster. Whichever is easier for you. You responded to his question.

I tend to visualize things when thinking. Hunter said. I think that’s how it’ll probably come across.

I understand, you acknowledged. After all, different people worked differently. Luckily, you’d worked with both visualizers as well as stream-of-consciousness, full word or sentence thinkers. I’m only limited by the amount of information you give me. I can Shift in nanoseconds, but if you don’t make sure to specify everything, it might be incomplete or a little different than what you wanted. You warned.

He nodded wordlessly, just as you came up to the clearing where the base was. The planet itself was rather forested, and the base had been set in the middle of a small clearing, half-hidden from above by the tree canopy. You briefly wondered how much intel had been needed in order to even find this place, much less know when and how long the intel would be shipped through this base anyway.

Two guards stood by the door, holding electro-spears with blasters at their sides. You didn’t doubt that there were probably more stationed within the base as well that would probably stream out like a disturbed ants nest once a confrontation began.

“Alright,” Hunter hissed lowly, gathering everyone’s attention. Cross, find a spot. You’ve got three minutes. Wrecker, get ready to run distraction. Yes, you can blow the ground sky-high for all I care, just make it big enough and keep their attention for as long as you can. Tech, get ready to slip around once Wrecker has them occupied.”

A sudden idea occurred to you. Cloaking shield. You whispered to Hunter, sending across a visualization of your possible contribution.

He instantly pounced on the idea. “Shiv is going to create a cloaking shield, get over here,” he hissed to Tech, who stepped closer to Hunter’s side. “We’ll use this to get as close as possible. If our cover’s blown, I’ll back you up.”

Tech nodded, pushing the visor of his helmet down in preparation. A minute later, Hunter nodded. “Let’s go.” He motioned to Wrecker.

With a booming laugh that you swore rattled through your currently nonexistent bones, Wrecker took a running leap into the clearing and slammed his fists into the ground. Chunks of earth went flying, and just as expected, the two armored guards started to run towards him. As soon as Hunter decided they were distracted enough, he motioned decisively.

You Shifted, creating the cloaking shield large enough for both him and Tech to fit under. Hunter started to move around the edge of the clearing, trying to stay a bit away from the flying rubble as Wrecker pulled out his grenades. You tried your best to keep monitoring, materializing over Hunter’s shoulder in order to keep eyes out for the flying rubble that might cause you to lose concentration if it hit the shield too hard or unexpectedly.

“How long can you hold it?” Hunter hissed, trying to stay quiet but let Tech in on the conversation.

“As long as nothing directly damages or hits me, as long as you need,” you whispered back. “But I expend more energy the larger of a weapon or shield that I am required to be.”

He nodded, helmet focused forward. You’d almost reached the doors, and the doors had cracked open to briefly allow backup to wriggle through.

“There’s going to be a risk,” you warned them as you reached the keypad. “I can’t hide the fact that the keypad is going to disappear from view or be tampered with. If anyone notices, the cover is blown.”

Hunter nodded. “Tech, you know how fast you can work. Concentrate, we’ll give you cover.”

Tech nodded, instantly pulling out some gear and hooking himself up to the keypad.

Hunter started filtering information to you about various weapons and their modifications he preferred to use, and you started instantly absorbing the information. To your surprise, you found that his visuals were extremely detailed, to the point that you almost started feeling them yourself. Everything in his head felt so much... crisper. So much more. You realized that it did make sense, considering his heightened senses. Everything would feel that much more to him, so it would naturally be transferred to you, especially considering your Bond.

Send me your Instincts, you whispered to him mentally.

What?

You let your astral form float a little in front of him, then pointed to his hands. Push across every instinct that you can towards the Bond. Channel them straight to me. Let your thoughts and instincts flow straight through the Bond, like a stream rushing by.

Hunter glanced at you, keeping an eye out for the distraction Wrecker was running. Crosshair had begun to snipe them down one by one, you vaguely noted. What does that do?

You started to feel him direct towards you, trying your best to accommodate and map out the way his instincts were honed. I am a living weapon, Sergeant, you reminded him. If a weapon could understand your instincts and become a part of your body, an extension of yourself, able to work with your thoughts in real time, what would you do with that? How would you shape that weapon and use it? I am a tool. I am a weapon, under your control. Please use me. This is my job.

Sometimes, the words felt like betrayal, coming from your own mind and mouth. Even though you knew you had worth, were more than just an object, you also knew that your part in this war and what you fundamentally were as a being was... a weapon. A weapon to be utilized to devastating effect. To kill, or to protect... to shield, or to destroy.

I am a weapon. You are a Handler. I will be used however you decide.

Hunter’s eyes hardened as he glanced at your form, and you felt his fingers tighten around the handle of the cloaking shield. But he said nothing and continued to funnel everything like a rushing stream into the Bond.

Tech hissed. “I’ve got it.”

The doors slid open, revealing an empty hallway.

Hunter stepped forward. “Get in, now, before anyone notices,” he barked.

Tech and Hunter quickly stepped in, heading down the corridor.

Blaster, Hunter requested.

You Shifted, allowing the cloaking shield to disappear. The three of you crept down the hallway, Tech leading the way as he glanced down at the map of the base he’d managed to strip. He fiddled with his controls as he led down the twisting hallways, opening doors as necessary.

“The intel holding should be just past this door,” Tech whispered tersely, holding his device up to the blast doors. The infrared picked up several life forms, and when he switched to x-ray, a couple of droids showed up on the screen.

“Those are assassin droids,” you whispered urgently, recognizing the shape and build.

Hunter nodded grimly. “Tech, once the doors are open, go for the others. We’ll handle the droids.”

You leaned toward Hunter’s ear. “Weaken the head plates and use a vibro-shiv to get to the cores,” you whispered, knowing how those droids worked. You’d lost Handlers before thanks to the stupid droids and their required close-combat.

Hunter nodded, and the doors started to open. As soon as they’d opened wide enough, Tech followed Hunter’s nod and slid around the corner. They both started to shoot at the same time. A few of the organic soldiers dropped thanks to getting caught in crossfire from the assassin droids, and Hunter started to target the head plates of the droids.

You quickly picked up on his flow of movement, correcting for precision aiming and knocking plates loose from the droids. Three of them started converging on you, and Hunter shouted at Tech.

“Get to cover!”

In a heartbeat, you’d Shifted into the vibro-shiv and he’d slashed at the wiring under one of the droid’s loose plates. It started to stagger, some of the support lost. Kicking out at the other, Hunter quickly managed to incapacitate the other two enough to slash at their wires as well. It didn’t take long for them to stagger about, losing some of their motor functions.

Tech found an opening and managed to nail one droid right in the exposed core, downing it in a shower of sparks. Hunter sank the shiv into another core, but you’d already caught sight of the last droid starting to point its blastered hand.

Hardly thinking, you bulked the weight of the vibro-shiv and made Hunter drop at the unexpected weight, barely missing the blast that went over his head. You returned it to normal a second later, and Hunter whirled on his heels close to the ground and threw.

You pointed the shiv with deadly accuracy, making it sink directly into the center of the exposed core. The droid froze, shuddering. For a moment the whole room seemed to freeze as Hunter and the droid faced off. Then the droid crumpled with a screech of metal, collapsing on the floor. The shiv shuddered.

Hold out your hand, you whispered to Hunter.

He held out his hand, and the shiv whipped back into his hand as you returned yourself to him. His hand closed over the hilt, and it shifted back into a blaster.

Tech had already scurried over the vault and was quickly working on it, fingers flying over his cracking device. Hunter turned toward the door, pointing the blaster and keeping an eye out.

“Thanks,” Hunter said gruffly. “Back there, with the third.”

The thanks caught you off guard. Why would he thank you? I... It’s my job, was all you could really think to say, thoroughly confused. You were a weapon. Why would he thank you for doing what you were literally born to do?

A flash of anger traveled through your Bond, and you instinctively shrank away though it passed just as quickly as it had appeared. Why would he be angry? Had you done something wrong? Had he not wanted you to correct it? Would it have been better if you’d done it differently?

You tried to refocus, knowing better than to get distracted now. The mission was still underway.

You heard the vault click behind you, then a quick rustle. Tech’s footsteps faltered, then squeaked against the floor.

“We need to go!” he shouted, beginning to sprint. “The vault was rigged! This place is going to blow in T-minus two minutes!”

Hunter had automatically followed Tech, but his pace quickened. “Tech, we’re not going to make it,” Hunter called grimly.

And he was right. It would take you longer to get out than that. There were so many twists and turns. You thinned your lips, materializing over his shoulder.

“Grab Tech,” you said, already Shifting. Hunter lunged forward towards Tech, grabbing him as he threw you down and jumped. You guided yourself to catch both him and Tech as a hoverdisc. A joystick grew from the base, and Tech unquestioningly grabbed it, beginning to guide you down paths so quickly that you barely had time to register any surroundings.

You rounded a corner, and Hunter shouted something. The doors had begun to close. But Tech just hunched over, and flicked a button you provided on the joystick.

“Hold on!” Tech yelled.

You Shifted, closing your eyes in order to concentrate, get it right, there wasn’t room for hesitation or error, you knew this, you could do this-

Heat seared your senses just as you managed to throw up both a shield and the proper mechanics that you’d studied so diligently and meticulously.

You screamed.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that you were flying through the air, the Transference forcefully Dissolved. But all you could really pay attention to was the pain that burned through all of your nerves and senses. The moment you felt yourself hit the ground and roll, all breath was knocked out of your lungs.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you wordlessly clutched at your arm, unable to make a single sound. You knew this had been a risk, the moment you’d done it. You’d only managed to put up the shield just in time to save Hunter and Tech from the blast approaching behind you, but it had been incomplete in your hurry to both throw it up and blow the doors open.

You’d been distracted. And now you were paying for your own mistake.

A half-strangled sob burst from your lips as you peeled your hand away from your arm, digging your hand into the soil underneath you and jacking yourself up. You’d taken damage from the blast, and just as you’d known would happen, it had Transferred to your physical body as well. After all... you were a weapon. And every weapon gets dents and scorch marks in battle. But you knew you were meant to take it. You’d always known you were meant to be the shield for your Handler.

Someone skidded to your side as you hunched over, trying to breathe through the pain. If you could just-

“Maker,” a voice snarled.

Vaguely, you half-registered the voice as Hunter’s. You scrabbled back, throwing out your good hand. “Don’t touch me!” you sobbed out, begging, praying that he wouldn’t touch you.

“Shiv, you need medical attention-“

“Please, don’t touch me, you don’t understand-“ you managed to sob out, shaking and hunching over.

“What happened?” Crosshair’s voice growled from nearby.

“Shiv-“ Hunter’s voice barked.

But you staggered to your feet, trying to just focus, you needed to focus- your ears rang. Gritting your teeth, you forced yourself to push. You were a weapon. You did not fail your Handler. You got back up. You took the consequences, you will take the pain, you will do your kriffing job-

A shuddering gasp tore from your throat as you felt yourself begin to work. You could feel the numbing ice of cold gunmetal creep up your mangled arm, could fairly smell your hissing flesh as you covered your arm slowly but ruthlessly.

Numbness. You barely felt anything, now, except for a vague pressure on your arm. Letting out a half-broken sob, shuddering, you reached up and smeared tears away from your face. Looking up, you caught sight of all four of the Bad Batch gazing at you with varying expressions of horror or concern.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, feeling dizziness start to descend. Everything started to spin. “I’m sorry, I’ll- I’ll fix it-“

As everything tilted, the last thing you saw was someone’s hand reaching for you.

Part 4: https://elysiadjarin.tumblr.com/post/654625612928008192/sword-and-shield-4

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robininthelabyrinth · 4 years ago

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Tedious Joys - Chapter 2 -

- Ao3 link -

“If you want A-Jue at this time of day, he’ll be at the training field,” Lao Nie said, standing up and immediately striding off in that direction. “Oh, and Qiren, I will warn you – he has his mother’s height.”

Lan Qiren rolled his eyes as he followed behind. “That’s helpful information,” he remarked. “Right up until you recall that I have never had the pleasure of meeting his mother –”

He stopped talking and stared.

“I didn’t think a further explanation was necessary,” Lao Nie said. He wasn’t quite at the level of sniggering into his sleeve, but he certainly had a shit-eating grin. Lao Nie was not a short man by any standard, although he was squatter, more muscular and more broad-shouldered than the tall and slender Lan sect – and yet…

“He’s under ten,” Lan Qiren checked, and Lao Nie nodded. “You’re sure.”

“I was present at the birth myself, and have cared for him ever since. And before you ask, I may be busy with my duties as sect leader, but I still feel like I would have noticed someone swapping him out for a child several years older.”

Lan Qiren squinted out at the training field, where a child (and it was a child, given the amount of baby fat in his cheeks, even if the overall size was more what he’d expect of a teenager) was happily dismembering a training dummy with an especially fearsome-looking saber under the tolerant supervisory gaze of the training master.

“Lao Nie,” Lan Qiren finally said. “About that first wife of yours…you would tell me if she were an actual giant – or a goddess –”

Lao Nie laughed and patted him on the back. He did not answer the question.

“A-Jue! Come here!” he shouted, and Nie Mingjue – demonstrating excellent discipline – completed his strike before turning around and trotting over to his father. “Say hello to Teacher Lan.”

“Teacher Lan,” Nie Mingjue said obediently, saluting properly like every small child introduced to a stranger, and then looked up. A smile suddenly spread over his face. “Oh, Teacher Lan! Fighting without permission is prohibited!”

Lan Qiren choked and Lao Nie burst out laughing.

“That was seven years ago,” Lan Qiren protested, and Lao Nie only howled more. “You were an infant. How do you even remember that?”

“It was interesting!” Nie Mingjue beamed. “You said that every word in the rule is like a principle – even if you have the rule, you have to agree on what it means. What counts as fighting, what counts as permission, what counts as prohibited…I use it lots!”

“He has a good memory,” Lao Nie said, wiping his eyes. “You should hear how many profanities he’s learned.”

“I would rather not,” Lan Qiren said hastily, because Nie Mingjue looked on the verge of volunteering to recite them. “Nie Mingjue, can you show me around?”

“Of course, Teacher Lan! Let me just put Baxia away first; I’m not allowed to carry her outside the training field yet. Unless there’s an accident, of course.”

Lan Qiren did not ask. As a sect leader who did not share a border with Qishan Wen, he didn’t think he had the right.

“Take your time,” he said, putting his hands behind his back and watching as Nie Mingjue ran away.

“Would it help to have me there?” Lao Nie asked, and nodded when Lan Qiren shook his head. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

Lan Qiren did not put forward any requests, curious to see where Nie Mingjue would take him, and was reluctantly charmed by the fact that their first destination was the nursery, where several pudgy toddlers of indeterminable age were sleeping.

“My baby brother,” Nie Mingjue explained, very seriously, inadvertently driving home that the fact that he was as tall as Lan Qiren’s elbow didn’t make him any older than he was. “He’s little.”

Lan Qiren couldn’t even tell which one of the indiscriminate toddlers wrapped in blankets was meant to be Nie Huaisang, but he nodded, and Nie Mingjue led him onwards, initially mostly silent with belated shyness but eventually coaxed into chattering.

In the evening, he returned to Lao Nie’s study.

“Well?” Lao Nie asked, face creased into the scowl he had on more often than not, despite being widely considered one of the more even-tempered Nie. “What do you think?”

“I think your son is a bright and enthusiastic boy,” Lan Qiren said. “With a remarkable sense of justice and morality that will serve him well, although maybe not so much in terms of politics. He’s very…straightforward.”

“Yes, well, I’m still holding out hope on A-Sang for the tact,” Lao Nie said. “That wasn’t my question and you know it.”

Lan Qiren tried to collect his thoughts. “I don’t think you’ve damaged him for life,” he finally said, and Lao Nie’s shoulders relaxed in a sudden exhalation of what was probably months of increasing stress. “I do think he would benefit from understanding a little bit more about what’s happening to him.”

“But he’s so young.”

“I know. Normally, I wouldn’t introduce the subject of his own mortality at this level of complexity this early – although I assume it’s hard for him to miss the concept entirely, given the political situation –” Lao Nie winced in acknowledgment. “– but I don’t think you have much of a choice. You’re not the only one who noticed the saber spirit.”

Lao Nie frowned, then understood, and frowned even deeper. “He’s noticed it?”

“I got him talking on the subject of his saber,” Lan Qiren said. “He regards it in the same manner as other children his age would an imaginary friend. It’s female, apparently.”

Based on the description, Baxia also had what he would, in one of his students, term a personality. He supposed it was possible that Nie Mingjue was just projecting the parts of himself that weren’t quite fit for company, since surely no one could be that earnest, and yet, based on what Lao Nie had told him…

Lao Nie groaned and put his hand to his head. “Jiwei didn’t develop a sense of gender for years,” he grumbled, and Lan Qiren was moderately certain that he hadn’t intended to admit that out loud. “This is ridiculous. I want him to live a good life, Qiren. A long one, insofar as that’s possible for our sect.”

“I’ll try to do some research,” Lan Qiren said. “In the meantime, could he be convinced to cultivate something else in addition to a saber? Music, perhaps?”

“You’re welcome to try. He’s practically tone-deaf.”

“Perhaps arrays, then, or talismans,” Lan Qiren said. “It would do him some good to find another thing to pour all that energy of his into.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lao Nie allowed. “And I appreciate any research you’re able to do, though of course there are limitations on your time – and what we can allow to be taken out of the Unclean Realm.”

Lan Qiren waved a hand. “It’s nothing. I enjoy keeping busy, and the subject is fascinating. Have you considered that regular visits by me might draw attention?”

Attention from within their sects they could handle, but they were both sect leaders – or acting sect leader, in Lan Qiren’s case – and their actions could never truly be wholly their own.

“I have a plan for that,” Lao Nie said. “It’ll work better if you don’t know about it, though.”

Lan Qiren hated plans like that.

“Very well,” he said, aware that he sounded like he was sulking. “If you must.”

“Could I send him to you next year?” Lao Nie asked, and Lan Qiren forgot his grumpiness to gape at him. “I wouldn’t impose this year, naturally, since you must already have a curriculum planned. But next year…”

“If you send him, that will be making a statement,” Lan Qiren said.

A statement about what, exactly, he did not know, but there was a major difference between being the sort of teacher that was respected enough to teach the sect heirs of some small, out-of-the-way sects and being entrusted with the childhood education of the heir to a Great Sect. Even if Nie Mingjue learned nothing, which seemed unlikely given his earnest performance from earlier, the other small sects would immediately want to follow suit, as if to rub off some of the same luck for themselves – he would be flooded with applicants.

His sect elders were going to hate it.

Although it wasn’t exactly against any of the rules…

“That’s why I’m asking your permission.” Lao Nie grinned at him, his teeth flashing white under his nearly trimmed beard. “Also, while you’re our guest here – you did plan to stay at least a week or two, right? Good, good. I will insist upon you joining me for some night-hunts.”

“Lao Nie…”

“I’ve explained to you how my sect cultivates our sabers. Are you really saying that you can judge that without seeing it happening?”

“You know perfectly well that I’m a weak fighter,” Lan Qiren said, even though that was a very good point, and one he probably would have insisted on himself sooner or later. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

“You never have,” Lao Nie said right to his face – the Nie sect did not discourage all lying, the scoundrels. “I’m serious! You’re not the fastest, no, but you’re perceptive, analytical, and creative. The insights I gain from hunting by your side are long-term gains, making me faster and more efficient in the future.”

“You’re flattering me,” Lan Qiren said suspiciously.

“I am not. The first time we went on a night-hunt together, you stopped by the river to rest and told me about how the flowers growing there were unique because they absorbed spiritual energy but not resentful energy on account of being too close to flowing water; three years later, I used that fact to find a gigantic nest of ghosts and demonic creatures that were using it as camouflage. They’d killed nearly a dozen villagers by that point and no one else could find them, but I did.”

Lan Qiren felt his ears heating up. “…that’s a coincidence.”

“Do you really want me to start naming other examples?”

“I would rather you showed me your library,” Lan Qiren said. He hoped he wasn’t blushing. He was probably blushing. No one else ever teased him the way Lao Nie did, except maybe Cangse Sanren. He was suddenly hit by a nostalgic desire to see her again. “At once, if you please. And also…”

He trailed off.

“Why the hesitation?” Lao Nie asked. “Do you really think there’s anything I would deny you, as long as you find a way to help my son?”

Lan Qiren cleared his throat. “It would be helpful if I could examine a more mature saber spirit that has already bonded to a human master. Your Jiwei, for instance.”

As he expected, Lao Nie scowled at the suggestion of someone else examining his spiritual weapon – and his saber spirit, no less – but after a few moments he collected himself and nodded, albeit begrudgingly. “I’ll leave her with you,” he said. “Be careful when you examine her – she doesn’t like to be touched by anyone but me.”

Lao Nie’s warning turned out to be both true, untrue, and an understatement of frankly shocking proportions.

During the course of Lan Qiren’s investigations into the subject of the Nie sect sabers over the next few months, and thereafter, he determined that the best, if not only, way to deal with Jiwei was to act as though he were handling a particularly vicious and single-minded dog.

Jiwei, it seemed, liked to bite.

If one treated her like a normal saber – an inert piece of metal – she would appear completely quiescent right up until there would be an abrupt and inexplicable accident, clattering off the table with the blade curving straight at clothing and flesh, and only very quick reflexes could prevent disaster. If one attempted to utilize spiritual energy with her, it would be even worse: she would pull as much as she could and feed back nothing, spiteful and ruthless.

A vicious creature, too quick to judge, loyal only to her master, who she loved.

A bit like Lao Nie, in fact. Lan Qiren did not delude himself into mistaking Lao Nie’s passion for righteousness – Nie Mingjue was righteous, a serious child that was always wondering what was right, while Lao Nie was more inclined towards brutal, even callous, practicality that focused on what benefited him and his sect. He would do good, of course, but he could not be forced into it; he had his pride, his temper, and sometimes he erred too much in favor of those over even common sense.

But despite all his rough edges, he did truly love his friends.

He dragged Lan Qiren all over Qinghe whenever he visited, on night-hunts and to resolve minor conflicts, the sort of thing any normal traveling cultivator might do; he showed him the small towns and the hidden cities that Lan Qiren would not have seen on any normal visit, and asked him to play songs for his little family. Nie Huaisang was enraptured by the music, Nie Mingjue largely indifferent – Lao Nie had not been wrong to call him practically tone-deaf – and Lao Nie beaming all the while, even if Lan Qiren suspected that his eldest son’s lack of musical appreciation had largely come from him.

He even, after a stray comment, managed to track down Cangse Sanren, who brought her husband and son to the Unclean Realm and left them in Nie Mingjue’s earnest care while she sat with the two of them, drinking liquor as if it were water to the point that even Lao Nie refused to compete with her – when his protests were eventually overridden, Lan Qiren (who drank tea, of course) was roped in to be their long-suffering judge.

It was a good night.

“Is that another thing I took from you?” He Kexin unexpectedly asked Lan Qiren a week after Lao Nie had publicly announced that he would be sending Nie Mingjue to the Cloud Recesses for Lan Qiren’s classes. The ensuing hubbub, as Lan Qiren expected, had been enormous, and he’d braced himself to discuss nothing else for months, although he hadn’t really expected her to mention it.

The Cloud Recesses separated men and women, and He Kexin had borne two sons; they were old enough by now to live primarily with the men rather than the women, and so they had entered Lan Qiren’s care. He brought them to visit her once a month, and came himself like clockwork every two weeks in between to update her as to their progress, his eyes fixed firmly above her head as he narrated the report as if he were a junior returning from a night-hunt. It was not her fault that his brother had fallen in love with her and ruined Lan Qiren’s life, but it had been her decision to murder a man that had served as the trigger for the situation; Lan Qiren was meticulous about his duty to her as his sister-in-law, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Or her.

By this point, she was moderately good at respecting that. In the beginning, she’d cursed him viciously every time he came to see her, especially after he’d provided her with definitive proof of her former friend’s lies and machinations. Later, she’d tried flirting with him out of what he could only assume was boredom or perhaps a willful misunderstanding as to why he still visited, assuming that he had perfidious motivations or shared his brother’s taste in women instead of suffering from an overdeveloped sense of responsibility for his brother’s misdeeds. It had taken him several months and, eventually, an explicit offer to even notice, and he’d nearly broken his neck fleeing from the scene.

“I don’t understand what you mean,” he said, still looking above her head instead of at her face. He Kexin had A-Huan’s smile and A-Zhan’s eyes, he knew that, but if he could scrub all of her other features from his mind, he would.

“Sect Leader Nie,” she said, and it was so odd to hear someone refer to Lao Nie by his formal title outside of a political situation or deliberate insult – even Wen Ruohan habitually called him Lao Nie by now, and as far as Lan Qiren could tell, they despised each other – that Lan Qiren’s eyes actually dropped to meet hers. “If you weren’t sect leader, you could’ve married him.”

Lan Qiren choked on air. “Do you think of nothing but sex all day?” he spat out, his cheeks going red. “We are friends.”

“I don’t have much else to think of,” He Kexin said, and he glared as if to communicate whose fault is that and maybe in your next life you won’t solve your problems with murder. “I heard you’ve been spending a lot of time with him, and now he’s sending his son to your care. It’s suggestive.”

“Talking behind the backs of others is forbidden,” Lan Qiren reminded her, and she shrugged. “Do I need to discipline your servants?”

“It’s news, not gossip,” she said. “And no, these ones are fine. No one’s playing any tricks.”

There had been an incident early on, where a few of the servants assigned to care for He Kexin had mistaken her confinement for abandonment; they had not expected Lan Qiren to grimly continue visiting as he would have done if she had been his sister-in-law in the normal course of things, nor to listen when she complained. He had of course taken all necessary measures to have the offenders harshly disciplined and expelled, replaced with servants of good character and sufficient intelligence to keep her company without seeking to take advantage, and there had been no new incidents since.

Her punishment was confinement, not torment. No matter what Lan Qiren felt about her, she would receive exactly that – neither more nor less.

“Is it Cangse Sanren, then?” she asked, propping her head up on her chin. “You fell in love with her, and then she married another man…”

“Sometimes people are just friends,” he said, irritated. “Why must I be in love with anyone?”

He Kexin shrugged. “Don’t you want to marry, one day? Have children of your own, rather than always reporting back to me on mine?”

“I’m acting sect leader,” Lan Qiren said tightly. “A marriage, much less children, would give rise to accusations that I was seeking to usurp my brother’s place or my nephews’ inheritance.”

“So it is another thing I’ve done,” she said, looking down at her hands. They were clenched tightly into fists, her knuckles white; sometimes Lan Qiren thought she wanted to punch him as a means of venting her feelings, and sometimes he didn’t even blame her for it. “I had only been thinking about it in the sense that you couldn’t leave, but you can’t even bring anyone back.”

“I don’t especially want to, anyway,” he said, because it was true. Even if she was right, that even his right to marry freely had been taken from him, it didn’t mean that she had the right to use it as a whip on her own back. If Lan Qiren couldn’t bring himself to obey the rule about not holding grudges, he could at least follow the ones about being generous and easy on others. “I haven’t found the right person.”

“And it’s really not Lao Nie?” He Kexin asked. “You go to visit him often, and for longer periods, than you go anywhere else, and A-Huan says you look happy whenever you’re going to go.”

Lan Qiren shrugged. He was happy to go. He enjoyed Lao Nie’s company, and the research, even when Lao Nie was too busy for him personally, and Lao Nie’s role as an allied sect leader meant that Lan Qiren had more latitude in arranging such visits than he did to other places.

“…A-Zhan says that your hands are white when you return.”

Lan Qiren’s eyes dropped to his arms, where there was in fact some white peeking out from beneath his sleeves – white bandages on his left wrist and the two smallest fingers on his right hand, this time, from the latest incident in which Jiwei had tried to slash him, but it was barely a nick in comparison with previous instances; he thought that it was a sign that they might be getting somewhere.

A moment later, he realized the implications of her statement and glared at her. “You’re not seriously asking if Lao Nie is abusing me? Weren’t you asking about my marriage prospects with him only a moment ago?”

“The two are not mutually exclusive,” she said dryly. “And the Nie temper is well known.”

“It’s from research,” Lan Qiren said. “I dropped a saber and I knocked over the table on to my other hand when trying to dodge.”

“I believe you,” she said, lips twitching. “If only because you would’ve come up with a more dignified excuse if it was a lie.”

“I don’t actually have to explain myself to you,” he said, reminding himself as much as her. “Is there anything else you want to know about your sons?”

“No,” she said. “But I’d like my husband to visit me again, if you can arrange it.”

He nodded stiffly.

“You know,” she said, playing idly with her sleeves. “If you never marry, I’ll be the closest thing you ever have to a wife? You manage my house, you raise my children, and you even provide me with services in bed, albeit indirectly.”

Do not succumb to rage, Lan Qiren thought to himself, and left without another word.

(Later, when Cangse Sanren next visited the Cloud Recesses, her husband taking A-Huan on a ride on their donkey with A-Zhan and A-Ying tucked into the saddlebags, she listened to him stammer through the whole humiliating story and gnashed her teeth on his behalf. “Don’t listen to her,” she told him. “By that standard, the rabbits she likes to raise are her concubines.”)

His simmering anger made his next session with Jiwei flow more easily, almost as if the saber spirit empathized with his rage – or perhaps it was simply that she found it more familiar, more reminiscent of the temper of her true master, and therefore less objectionable. He was attempting to draw out some part of her anger through music and store it into a jade pendant: his theory was that the eventual qi deviations of the Nie sect leaders resulted from a lack of balance with the resentful energy utilized by the saber spirit – the negative emotions streaming in through the saber, strengthening it, but having no means of cleansing beyond outbursts of temper.

It had been the way Nie Mingjue spoke of his saber spirit as if she were his friend that had given him the idea. Many in the Nie sect treated their sabers with both reverence and fear, as if the spirits were vicious creatures they had only temporarily tamed and which would one day turn upon them, but Jiwei was passionately loyal to Lao Nie, and Baxia to Nie Mingjue. Perhaps it was his inheritance as a Lan showing, or merely his own experience with his brother, but Lan Qiren simply could not understand how anything that loved so unstintingly, so unreservedly, could ever bring themself to intentionally bring about their beloved one’s destruction.

Even a dog would refuse to bite a master it loved unless it had gone mad.

Therefore, he concluded, it was not merely the human wielder but the saber itself that deviated in their cultivation. Lao Nie had once said in an aside that it was unclear what came first, the Nie sect tempers or the saber spirit-incited outbursts, and although he had meant it as a joke, Lan Qiren thought there was some merit to the question. Rage served a valuable purpose for humans, acting as a warning sign that something was wrong, that something was unacceptable, rejection and protection all at once, but rage that could not be excised would turn rancid and sour, like a poisoned wound. Sabers were cultivated by their masters and resembled them – they were filled with human rage, intensified by their cultivation of resentful energy, but unlike a human they could not shout or hit something or vent in any way other than through hunting.

No wonder Jiwei was so content after a night-hunt; no wonder Nie sect cultivators got irritable when they hadn’t had time to cultivate their sabers or fight evil or just get out and do something. But with limited venting opportunities (humans could not fight evil all the time), the sabers would fall into obsession, infected by the very same resentful energy that they excised when they hunted – their bloodlust simultaneously sated and inflamed – and as their power grew, and their true opponents grew fewer, they would become insatiable and, eventually, unbalanced. Demonic cultivation was abhorred by the cultivation world because it opened the door to obsession and fixation, and the most common way that demonic cultivators died, if not executed by the world, was through a backlash of their own power. Obsession was by its nature rigid, and that was the sole weakness of the saber: they had to be rigid, but never too rigid, or else they would become brittle, would break.

Deviation.

It was a very interesting theory, even if Lao Nie’s eyes glazed over whenever Lan Qiren tried to explain. Lan Qiren didn’t take offense: Lao Nie had always been an exceptionally practical man, more interested in results than theories, actions rather than thoughts.

“Aren’t you disappointed?” Lan Qiren asked him at one point, abrupt as he always seemed to be about such things. “That I haven’t gotten anywhere?”

Lao Nie looked surprised. “What do you mean? You have a valid theory, you’ve tried all sorts of things.”

“I haven’t succeeded.”

Lao Nie laughed. “My friend, this is a problem that has stymied my sect for generations. Did you really think you’d be able to solve it in three weeks?”

Lan Qiren scowled. “It’s been closer to three years.”

“You’ve made progress,” Lao Nie said confidently. “A-Jue has as solid a foundation as I could hope for, and all those conversations you have with him about the nature of ethics and morality have had an excellent effect on his saber.”

“Has it?” Lan Qiren asked, skeptical. Even the Nie sect experts agreed that Baxia was unusually vicious for a saber, powerful enough to frighten wild yao simply with her presence – Nie Mingjue’s cultivation remained shockingly fast, and even Lan Qiren, who had only a few years understanding of the saber spirits, could recognize the effects of it.

“It has,” Lao Nie said firmly. “He doesn’t fear her, and she loves him all the more for it, backs him like none other; no other saber of his generation will so much as waver out of line with Baxia behind them. As for the rest…ah, Qiren, if you can figure out a way to stymie the saber spirit even a little – give him even another decade – I’ll be satisfied. Don’t worry about it.”

Lan Qiren huffed and returned to trying to transfer spiritual energy from Jiwei to the pendant.

“Besides, all this time spent on the project has had at least one good effect,” Lao Nie added, putting his hand on Lan Qiren’s shoulder as he played. “I get the pleasure of your company.”

Lan Qiren’s attention was fixed on his playing, but the hand was warm on his shoulder. “That hardly seems so much of a benefit,” he said absently.

“You underestimate yourself. Do you know, outside of my sect, I think you’re my best friend?”

Only years of training allowed Lan Qiren’s fingers to continue to move smoothly over the guqin strings when his heart seized in his chest, warm and hot and squished and painful and pleasurable at the same time.

He did not allow himself to ask “Really?” like a small child, insecure and uncertain, did not permit himself to say “even above my brother”, did not say anything at all.

“Thank you,” he finally said, stiff and wooden. “I…you as well.”

#mdzs #lan qiren #sect leader nie #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #tedious joys

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love-takes-work · 4 years ago

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Steven Universe: End of an Era: Outline & Review

I wrote this review in October but never got around to posting it here

Steven Universe: End of an Era is far more than an art book–it’s also a collection of behind-the-scenes material, stories about the experience of working on the show, planning documents and associated background info, and both older versions of developed concepts AND concepts that never made it into the show. It's a huge fusion of all those elements, and it's definitely an experience!

Some low-quality images are included with my review just to give you an idea of what’s there--it’s not a good substitute for getting your own copy, but here’s a tour!

Like the previous concept art book, Art and Origins, I'll be giving you a description of the structure and overview, while also collecting notable information for fans. Obviously just about everything is "notable" once again, but I'll aim for unique insight or perspective on the main source material, keeping the screaming about everything new to a minimum so you can also enjoy something for yourself if you pick it up. My low-quality photos should prevent people from feeling like I'm reproducing the book in any capacity. Please grab one while you can and have your own experience!

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

OVERVIEW

The book is titled "End of an Era" for a couple reasons--obviously because it is released after the show has wrapped, but also because Gem history recently ended its "Era 2" and began Era 3--an age of prosperity and peace. The author--the person in charge of adapting all of this information into this slick, readable package--is Chris McDonnell, whose work was previously applied on the Art and Origins book.

The foreword is by N.K. Jemisin, a well-known science fiction author who's a huge fan of the show (and wrote a really excellent series that also has a weird geological connection, by the way).

And the cover, like its predecessor, is shiny and decorated with a beach scene featuring minimalistic characters--this time it's the Gems at night in front of the Temple, and on the back cover is a big pink leg ship in a cross-legged pose.

The interior covers are decorated with tons of amazing sketches of Steven and Connie on the front, and a bunch of Gem sketches on the back. Every interior page that most would leave blank is highlighted with some kind of sketch art or character exercise--it's so much to look at, so much to absorb.

The book is dedicated "For Eddie."

Its organization is different from the previous book in that it shares applicable work in chunks associated with groups of episodes rather than pertaining to different aspects of building the show.

FOREWORD

N.K. Jemisin gives us such a great introduction to the book--apparently understanding very well that the audience of this book is full of animation enthusiasts and adult fans more than it is full of kids, and explaining that bewildering journey some adults had from blowing this show off as a silly kid thing to falling in love with it hard and fast.

The important thing, Jemisin says, is being able to trust a storyteller with your heart. And it was clear to her that Rebecca Sugar knew what she was talking about and was saying important things about identity and the radical power that comes with accepting it and demanding respect.

Important also is how we handle heroes and who gets to be one in fantasy. That's part of the reason Steven Universe speaks to so many--because we see ourselves here, and know stories can be about us. Acknowledging the power we all have to MAKE THINGS BETTER with what we fight for is so important--especially if we're going to speaking to the next generation about it.

Highlighting Rose Quartz as a "born leader" who failed and Steven as a relatable scamp who did what she couldn't, Jemisin asserts that we can save the world.

1. END OF AN ERA

We start with an appeal to the audience to think about identity and the formative parts of our childhood--and how different it is if who you are and who you become is restricted, mocked, erased, or Not Allowed. Most people, if not ALL people, can relate to this, but for those of us with a special relationship with Steven Universe because of queer identity, this hits hard.

But it doesn't have to be anything grand to be something we respect--this show's authenticity comes largely from how personal everything is, drawn from real-life experiences and incidental truths from each artist's perspective, leaning hard on childhood and formative experiences.

Rebecca Sugar offers some interview bits to discuss writing philosophy and why "writing female characters" was difficult for a nonbinary person who'd been socialized as a girl and a woman. Rebecca has spoken before about how frustrating it is that marketing for cartoons was SO gendered when she was growing up (and to some extent still is).

The Gems in the story are all "she/her," but on their planet they're defined by their work, not by emotion or relationships (unlike women in our society), so having them be socialized opposite to how she was and be able to claim those emotions through choice and NOT as just an expectation "as women" was revolutionary. Rebecca wants her show to tell all marginalized people that they don't deserve to be in the margins.

Weighing in on other aspects of the show were Ian Jones-Quartey, Joe Johnston, and Miki Brewster. Ian describes feeling like at first doing SU was a thrill ride that meant they'd finally get to do all the cool stuff, but it quickly became a responsibility that he took very seriously--the need to tell a good story now that he'd been given a megaphone.

Promotional art, planning documents, character sketches, and concept art from the lighthearted to the stone serious is included, along with some very cool (sort of famous) timeline charts that track major characters' developments. It's emphasized by Rebecca that the developmental materials ARE NOT CANON (and especially are not MORE canon) compared the final show.

There are concept sketches alongside final art for Aquamarine and Topaz in "Wanted" (with Topaz labeled "Imperial Topaz"), the Zircons in "The Trial," Blue and Yellow Diamond, and the Off Colors (including Pink Lars).

And there's also a spread of "the two sides of Steven's life: Gem Magic and Rock N Roll" featuring Sadie Killer and the Suspects (referred to as "Buck's band")--as well as a cool "Crew Cameos" key and some concepts for short-haired Connie.

And then there's some more "finished" art with stills alongside concepts, including some background art, revision, and really cool "fairytale" art from some of the shadowplay storytelling bits. We get "Lars of the Stars," "Jungle Moon," and "Can't Go Back."

2. THE BEGINNING OF THE END: A SINGLE PALE ROSE

In discussing the huge reveals and Gem mysteries in the show, the pacing is examined, and emphasis is put on the intended "slow burn." One of the most difficult things in the show was to strategize so that every piece that was needed to support another piece in the future was placed properly to seed what it was supposed to.

Some of the ideas they developed were more of a group effort and were fit together collaboratively (like Amethyst's being younger than the other Gems and Jasper being from Earth), while others were intended from the beginning based on Rebecca's vision (the fundamental idea of Pink Diamond's true identity, for instance, as well as Obsidian's design and sword and our Pearl not being Pink's first).

The writing process gets a great deep dive here, including fun tidbits like how the orb in the moon base was inserted by Joe Johnston and they literally had no idea what it was for when they wrote the episode. They repurposed it when they figured out what they needed.

Rebecca credits her detailed timelines for helping keep the order straight, and discusses how other artists are sometimes flabbergasted that a storyboard-driven show can have this much detail and continuity and yet not get wrecked by the free non-scripted boarding process. But Rebecca and the Crew valued that approach and loved the way fresh eyes would handle an idea, making it come back alive, entertaining, vivid.

Several Crew members weigh in on the writing process. Lauren Hecht refers to making lots of incorrect guesses despite being on the inside. Joe Johnston recalled getting briefed on his first day and getting so excited to start working on this massive project.

Miki Brewster remembered being told Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond and being shocked--and also confused about why Ruby and Sapphire would need to be married if they're already basically married. Drew Green talks about being brought in late and getting to watch unaired episodes and a rough of the movie while eating cereal.

Ian Jones-Quartey complains about Pink Diamond's real jester-like form being leaked to the internet through a Hot Topic shirt. Rebecca piggybacks on that and says it was upsetting that the wedding was leaked because of toy fair keychains featuring Ruby and Sapphire in wedding attire. They'd always be worried about leaks, and sometimes Rebecca struggled not to talk about the reality of Pink Diamond before the reveal because she knew it would make so much more sense once the truth was out. And everything associated with Rose makes more sense once you know she's Pink--especially what happened with Bismuth, considering what we know about how Pink Diamond has a habit of treating anyone who no longer serves her interests.

When it comes to visual cues, Rebecca also talks about intentional designs to create a feeling of unity between concepts, like the flower shapes on Pink Diamond's palanquin lining up with the poofs of Steven's hair and the star imagery of the series. Steven Sugar and Mary Nash discuss how the Human Zoo incorporated this imagery, trying to look like Homeworld with a Pink Diamond touch.

Steven Sugar, as a game nerd, liked to throw in video game references from old and modern stuff to feel like he's inserting what he's enjoying and who he is from moment to moment, while Mary Nash, who related to Sadie as a basement-dwelling young person with cult interests, liked to include stuff from MST3K and cult movies. Pearl's hand gestures get a spotlight too--her reflex to cover her mouth when Pink Diamond was being discussed was analyzed here.

A "Top Secret Visual Timeline" from 2016 is included which tells us some Diamond history. It has an earlier version of Pink Pearl's fate and does not include Spinel since the movie hadn't been greenlit. The timeline includes the birth of the Diamonds, the emergence and major story beats for each major character, and some philosophy of the driving force behind each.

We're told that Pink Diamond straightened up, behavior-wise, after she lost her first Pearl, and that Yellow and Blue wanted to give her a planet but White only agreed to it to prove she would fail at managing a colony. Pearl, meanwhile, is so confused to have a Diamond who keeps asking her what she thinks when she doesn't believe she should have opinions.

And when Pink moonlighted as Rose to start conflict, she found herself leading an army to fight Pink's troops--then Yellow's, and eventually Blue's too. Lapis is said to be waiting for the conflict to end on Earth so she can terraform, but she gets trapped instead.

Pearl's love story with Rose is described as "an endless honeymoon" where she's free to love her, while Rose's is more like "I'm now the head of the family and I'm going to give everyone what they never had, so everyone is super special!"

Jasper is described as "adopted" into Yellow's army as the only successful Beta Quartz. And White Diamond knew that Pink Diamond was not dead--she thought she was just running away from home like a brat and would eventually be back.

3. THE HEART OF THE CRYSTAL GEMS

Now we discuss Rose Quartz--the original Pink Diamond. How she was selfish and selfless, never enough and always too much, and how Greg was her first partner who "challenged her" to be an equal. Rebecca describes Rose as being delighted by the idea that both she and Greg reinvented themselves, but when that leads her to want to share her past, Greg isn't interested--he only wants to know who she is now, and doesn't consider the old her to be her.

Rebecca likes Carl Jung's concept of "enantiodromia," which is the idea that extremes lead to their extreme opposite. This is demonstrated in all of the Diamonds. This narrative is interspersed with drawings of Greg and Rose being cute.

But another "heart" of the Crystal Gems is its relationships--particularly, Garnet, the fairy tale romance embodied. More psychological theories are discussed with regard to differentiation in a relationship making the relationship stronger, and how they made sure that happened for Garnet during the appropriate arc. Rebecca has struggled with the idea that she, like Ruby, went straight from a "family" group to a living-with-others situation and never lived by herself. But she also learned that you can in fact develop as a person in the context of a relationship--you don't have to be alone to do it. Ruby learned that too, and chose on her own terms to be with Sapphire.

The wedding made so much sense to Rebecca and the crew that they couldn't imagine a wholesome couple like Ruby and Sapphire not having a wedding episode. They wanted it for years: The wedding concepts always included the tuxedo for Sapphire and the wedding dress for Ruby.

But pushback (often blamed on the conservative standards of the international market) led to negotiations trying to keep Ruby and Sapphire's relationship from being explicit. Rebecca and the Crew were very tired of this double standard, and they were especially irritated by attempts to claim a wedding wouldn't be well received by a core demographic or wouldn't make sense for Steven's character. But other shows had done weddings and Steven had been established to love weddings already.

Rebecca kept adding more elements to the wedding episode to answer all the concerns, but she didn't want to back down from explicit marriage between these characters. They deserved it. And the audience deserved to see this as wholesome, like any other cartoon wedding. Eventually they got their way and were allowed to have the wedding. But the ordered episodes were also coming to a close without promise of more, so Rebecca had to request more episodes to be able to wrap up the storyline!

And of course, there is Steven, the true heart of the team. A very interesting aside discusses Garnet's leadership and how the network pushed the Crewniverse to acknowledge Steven as the leader. This was successfully resisted throughout as well--because Garnet is the leader (unless she's incapacitated, of course). It's fantastic that this concept was preserved because too often a young male chosen one is elevated above people with more experience and knowledge because of that chosen one tradition, so it's really nice to have a show acknowledge that team leadership is more appropriate for an adult.

4. ERA 3

Beginning with a discussion of the Diamonds, this chapter deconstructs the dysfunctional "family" of the Diamonds (who are said to be based on tropes about evil stepmothers and stepsisters), with the thread of dysfunction originating with White Diamond.

Yellow is physical, Blue is emotional, White is judgmental, and Pink is impulsive. Some philosophy on why Pink is naturally manipulative and why she clashes so much with White is offered.

White believes her identity is to be imposed on all because she is the pinnacle of what should be--and therefore, she has the right to make decisions and statements about and on behalf of everyone. But her secret is that she can't do what the others do--act or feel or want. In trying to be everyone, she is no one.

And this becomes very important when she confronts Steven about his identity and turns out to be wrong. The triumph of Steven being totally, fully himself is a beautiful, simple revelation that's described as far more satisfying than the theories about Pink living inside him or Rose returning from his Gem.

Also discussed is Gem architecture. A lot went into this idea, and Steven Sugar weighs in to say he had to think of what it would mean for a world to have buildings but serve no human needs. That's why it's mostly focused on transport and storage. Even the broken planet is meant to indicate a place stripped for its resources, and everything serves a function that is meant to avoid looking like the human equivalents.

And there's another layer, too: a difference between Era 1 and Era 2. Era 2 became more functional to hide Era 1's broken bits, and older Homeworld buildings still have some "ornate and ancient" feel to them. And the fact that props, tools, and even walls and doors could be living was taken from a concept Rebecca thought was horrible from old Busby Berkeley movies, where people were inanimate objects and it was portrayed as lovely. Tom Herpich helped conceptualize these living objects.

Steven dealing with "princess tropes" is discussed here too. The Pebbles (worked on with Pendleton Ward) were sort of his Cinderella's mice, and all the locked-in-a-tower, having supportive tiny friends help you, getting princess clothes made, attending a ball, having to mind your manners stuff was intentionally related to fairy tales.

The point of doing that (besides fun) was to easily invoke the feeling that Steven was being made to be someone he's not, and that he was being treated like THIS is who he really is when it isn't. White Diamond as the "evil stepmother" is discussed with regard to her detailed features and massive scale. They generally didn't put fingernails and eyelashes on characters (especially not to indicate that they were women or girls!), but they decided White would get all of these feminine markers for tradition's sake.

Rebecca also invokes several other references that were included and describes the princess tropes as "chipping away at his integrity" setting him up for the final challenge with White.

There is again tons of concept art: Homeworld architecture, Pebbles, Diamond diagrams, background Jades and Lemon Jade Fusion, Comby, Diamond extraction chambers, and White Diamond.

5. CHANGE YOUR MIND

Now we finally begin to discuss Steven's identity. The "Perfect Steven," discussed in several interviews before this book's release, was an idea back in 2013; the "ultimate Steven," beefed up and shonen-looking, was far from perfect because OUR Steven is perfect, while this alpha hero Steven idea (used in Steven Universe Future) didn't belong being idolized in such a show.

They thought about having Steven fall apart into organic half and Gem half early in the show (during "Giant Woman" after a successful fusion and unfusion, even!), but they didn't try the concept until the last episode. They didn't want the "Pink" Steven to be portrayed as "better" even though he would be more powerful, so they decided he isn't whole without his organic self and he's just as much of a shell as the organic half. They absolutely did not want any ending that required Rose to be inside him or waiting to come back. But the debates were fierce--what DOES it mean to have Rose's Gem?

Ian Jones-Quartey brings in an anecdote about his own family to emphasize some of the immigrant themes that inspired aspects of the show. He had a brother who reinvented himself elsewhere away from family without resolving issues, and all the ramifications of that were explored in the show through Rose Quartz. (He is careful to say he doesn't think his immigrant experience is like being from another planet!) But he did say you can hurt your old family even if they were toxic or didn't know the real you, and you can hurt your new family by hiding your past. The Pizza family of course was also a more direct reference to Ian's Ghanaian family.

In talking about the new Fusions from this episode, Sunstone is largely described by Miki, who also got to board the Sunstone section. Sunstone was described as a cool 1990s character and the evolution just continued into making them a fourth-wall-breaking PSA dispenser. Obsidian is also discussed, with their sword being an early concept. Steven Sugar said they totally knew it would be forged in action. Obsidian being similar to the Temple design is of course another very early detail.

The story of how James Baxter got involved with one of the final scenes (Organic Steven and Pink Steven fusing in front of White Diamond) was shared. His family was fans of the show and Rebecca Sugar took the time to drive to a birthday party for his daughter and give her a drawing. He then owed her a favor, and this was it.

Concept art is again included, this time with sample boards, promo images, a Diamond fight concept, costume design changes for the Gems, new Fusions, the so-called "Mega Diamond" ship conglomerate, some scenes from the White Diamond confrontation, Pink Steven, multiple pages of James Baxter animation, corrupted Gems and their healed selves, and photos from the "Change Your Mind" premiere and some awards. The show has won one design-related Emmy, a Peabody Award, and a GLAAD award.

6. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE

The book doesn't cover the movie because it got its own book, but dives right into Future. Ian Jones-Quartey emphasizes that the movie and Future are separate and different from the original show, which ENDED. After all, after that, Steven has a neck!

Some new names are invoked now: new writers Kate Tsang, Jack Pendarvis, and Taneka Stotts. They were excited to have Steven make HIS OWN mistakes instead of trying to clean up someone else's! Now, instead of doing the usual shonen anime thing and having the final battle be a big physical rumble, Steven has to make peace with himself and take an active role in coping with what all the fighting has done to him and what effect it's had on who he is (and who he wants to be). There is no sudden "I love myself!" answer, either. It's always a process.

Drew Green and Maya Petersen, who came on board as storyboarders officially in Future, also weighed in on writing for a "mature" show, how to deal with Steven being a "moral compass" while being sort of unreliable, and what they learned as Crew that they didn't know as fans. Drew didn't know Garnet never asks questions. Jack didn't realize the show never deviated from Steven's point of view. Taneka was nervous but excited to collaborate. Kate was worried about how established the show was and what to do as a new writer to contribute appropriately.

Maya was on the old Crew but not as a storyboarder, so felt like some of the "old" ideas ended up not being appropriate for the "new" Future in an embarrassing way--and dreaded the idea of dealing with Steven's emotional problems when they were similar to stuff she'd been through. She also was personally behind the idea of Steven wanting to dump his problems by becoming Stevonnie, and got to work with Etienne Guignard on inventing the Pearl creation backstory with Volleyball.

There's some discussion of "depression hobbies," stress, and the show's pacing. And they say Etienne was entertaining at pitches. There's even some discussion of how Greg is taken off a bit of a pedestal because his terrible restrictive life in the suburbs sounded wholesome to Steven and Greg presented it negatively.

And then there is some information about how the Crew felt behind the scenes due to fan reactions and negative press. Ian discusses feeling offended when the Black characters are described as bad examples, as if their cartoonized but realistic-in-context features are automatically caricatures.

Rebecca Sugar felt beaten down by some of these narratives and began to access mental health services, inspiring some of the content of "Mindful Education." A long reflection from Rebecca discusses people's infighting about her show and what she had a responsibility to show or not show in the story. She learned a lot about bullying from Cartoon Network's anti-bullying program and learned that bullies thrive on whatever attention you give them--unless it is made clear to them by a peer group that no one is impressed by their cruel actions. Also, not all negative feedback is bullying. Constructive criticism is different. Self-awareness can help you avoid internalizing what bullies might do or say to you.

Segueing from the discussion of how people are affected by and connect with the show, we then discuss how they chose as a team what should be covered as the show came to a close. They didn't have time to do quite a few stories they wanted time for, like a Rhodonite story, a Lars side story, and Diamond "prehistory" and religion; all of it was put aside for the main arc with Steven.

They thought people would find those stories about Homeworld and Off Color history very interesting, but so much of the show had been about Steven's Gem adventures, so keeping him mostly on Earth seemed appropriate. The acknowledgment of his battle damage, of his trauma, was necessary and real, and helpful in an important way to the core audience.

Oh, and there was some stuff about a cheeseburger tree. Don't ask.

In discussing the "reverse escapism" of the original show (Gem aliens are intrigued by everyday human culture, and realism is necessary), Rebecca says her views have changed on escapism and gets why some people want a soothing feel-better show. She acknowledged also that her own escapist dreams-come-true fulfilled in the show didn't feel like escapism because they were givens to the majority of mainstream culture, but were never guaranteed to marginalized people.

Rebecca ties in her several-times-told story about "Love Like You" and how the middle bit was when she didn't feel she was worth looking up to, and the realizations she had to tie the beginning to the end. Feeling like someone will like you less if they know you more is terrible. So sometimes a show like this can be helpful in telling people that they belong when their fantasies are things like "I want to be loved" and "I want to know I exist."

In Future, Steven has to connect to who he is and love that person--and understand that person enough to finally feel that even if he's not fixing their problems or saving their world right this second, Steven deserves his family's love and support, and they WANT to give it to him.

There's a huge amount of supplemental material in this section so there's no way I could name it all. The charts for Future's timeline are pretty straightforward, though a few episodes like "A Very Special Episode," "Why So Blue," "In Dreams," and "Bismuth Casual" aren't specifically represented and a couple are in a different order ("Prickly Pair" was conceived as happening after "Fragments" and "Homeworld Bound").

Steven feeling like a monster, having intrusive thoughts, having not forgiven the Diamonds, and getting help/moving on--it's all there.

We have keys, color scripts, and boards for the new opening and some various backgrounds and storyboard art from episodes. Model sheets for Shep, Nice Lapis and Mean Lapis, Jasper, Steven Tag Gems, Pink Steven Powers, Monster Steven. New house concepts, Era 3 Homeworld concept art for the Diamond environments, and background art for the Reef.

New Connie and Greg designs. Concepts for Mega Pearl, the Rose Quartzes, Bluebird, and Morganite (who didn't get used). And there are some photos from recording and the conference room. There are even some extras from "Crossover Nexus," the crossover with OK K.O.!--including an unused cut scene that included Ruby and Sapphire fighting. The rest of the book is a bunch of adorable Crewniverse art--extras, blog drawings, promos, and gifts to each other.

NOTABLE

The first timeline chart in the book features a cool sketch of the original Off Colors, which at the time this planning document was drafted included unused Off Colors Flint and Chert.

We knew of their existence already because of an episode of the podcast, but these two unexpectedly appeared as incidental characters in the Steven Universe Future episode "Homeworld Bound," identified only in the credits. Sad to think that instead of banding with the Off Colors, these two were probably shattered for their crime (being Quartzes who don't want to fight) and that's why we see them being repaired in this episode. Later, there's some brainstorming for types of Off Colors and "a Ruby that wants to wear limb enhancers" is mentioned as well.

It looks like there was also originally more juice to the story of tracking down the events of the war culminating in Pink Diamond's assassination.

One of the timelines talks about Steven thinking it makes sense that Pearl can't talk about her involvement because she might have been a double agent, explaining why Rose Quartz always knew what Pink Diamond was doing. It seems like that bit was supposed to be included in Garnet's version of the story she believed in "Your Mother and Mine." Seems like they originally conceived Garnet's story to inspire the Off Colors to become pirates and freedom fighters, though in the show's canon this storytelling happened after Lars had already reinvented himself the way he did.

Sadie was also supposed to be sending letters to Lars via Steven, which is funny since the "Letters to Lars" episode is just a montage Steven letter. And of course it's specified that Steven was supposed to get Pink Diamond flashbacks by going to the Palace on Homeworld.

The second chart in the book makes references to Sadie's reinvention of herself as a parallel to Lars, Greg, and Pink Diamond all doing the same thing, and how positive it is to embrace such a thing--a version of yourself that YOU create.

I love that Yellow Diamond's arm ship arm-wrestling the Cluster was always part of the plan.

There's some more explicit direction to have Connie help Steven understand the Diamonds as "strict parents," and a lot more emphasis on everyone realizing Rose had been inspired by THEM rather than them all following her.

White Diamond is presented here as if she thinks of Pink Diamond as a "daughter" (whom she now understands she has "lost"). There are notes on how the Diamonds have a responsibility to their children and should attend to it before just continuing to make more.

One of the concept art images for the Off Colors features Rhodonite crouching by Padparadscha saying "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you." It's very interesting because she DOES seem to protect Padparadscha in the show, but doesn't seem confident about it in her final version, even though it does seem like she'd be "programmed" to guard aristocratic Gems because of her Ruby and Pearl makeup. Cool.

A "Crew Cameos" spread was included, which is of great interest to some of us who loved seeing the Crew insert themselves into the show. Not every SU Crew person who's been represented in a crowd was there, but this crowd included Amish Kumar, Kat Morris, Amanda Winterstein, Angie Wang, Lamar Abrams, Emily Walus, Mary Nash, Joe Johnston, Christy Cohen, Danny Cragg, Hilary Florido, Danny Hynes, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, Elle Michalka.

The official national flower of South Korea, Hibiscus syriacus, is the name of Pink Diamond's flower.

One of Steven Sugar's comments about the silhouette difference between humans and Gems points out that humans have ears. This seems to be pretty good confirmation that they are not supposed to have ears, despite that sometimes we'll see ears drawn on them in some frames.

Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond is characterized in this book as "self-hating" in a really interesting way, saying that because she believed she was not capable of compassion, she practically worshiped those who demonstrated that ability and thought they were so much better than her--which is described as "intoxicating" and resulted in others being drawn to her. How interesting is that!

Timelines reveal that early plans for Pink Diamond's first Pearl originally had her getting destroyed by Pink during a game, and then her destruction was rewritten as a punishment from the Diamonds after Pink Pearl defended Pink Diamond to the other Diamonds. They went back to the idea of her getting hurt by Pink for the final version, though the cracked face and control by White Diamond was not on the agenda until they started writing "Change Your Mind."

10.

The approximate ages of the major characters, based on emergence, are revealed on these timelines. It begins with a cracked-planet-looking graphic depicting four tiny Diamonds emerging at 20,000 years ago. Some suspicious "blacked out" redacting surrounds a long timeline tail that goes back before that, which may mean there are secrets they still don't want to reveal. But the dates go like this:

20,000 years ago: The Diamonds emerge.

11,000 years ago: Pearl is custom-made for Pink Diamond.

8,000 years ago: Sapphire emerges (on Homeworld).

6,000 years ago: Ruby emerges (on a colony).

5,750 years ago: Garnet is formed.

5,600 years ago: Lapis is poofed and put in the mirror.

5,200 years ago: Jasper emerges (on Earth).

5,050 years ago: The Cluster is planted.

5,000 years ago: Amethyst emerges (on Earth).

4,500 years ago: The Crystal Gems found Amethyst.

3,000 years ago: Peridot emerges (on Homeworld).

40 years ago: Pearl found Lapis's mirror at the Galaxy Warp.

And of course we know 14 years ago Steven is born!

11.

Originally the Diamonds were based on a quartet of themes: Love, Fear, Pride, and Sorrow. It got too complicated to keep and it was abandoned, with Pink's identification of "love" being described as "particularly outdated."

12.

Notes on a sketch say that Pearl was inspired to become bold and unashamed because Pink's questions drove her to have opinions, and it's said that Rose "fell in love" with her boldness.

13.

Rebecca tells the story of driving off a ridge and getting stuck in the desert, comparing this to Ruby's tumble during her Wild West adventure and using it as inspiration. She's told this story before but here it is in print. She also included the story about using the flowers from a friend's wedding to put in Ruby's hair.

14.

Rebecca describes having to "fight" notes she was given when it had to do with Ruby and Sapphire's relationship. One she describes as NOT fighting was for a signing card depicting Ruby and Sapphire dancing. It was called "too romantic" and she decided not to worry about it since it wasn't the actual show content.

She was also scolded over her book The Answer because the powers that be expected her to downplay that relationship. She always argued that queer youth deserved these things.

15.

Tom Herpich describes being inspired to name Blue Diamond's comb "Comby" because he was watching the news about Comey getting fired from the FBI. It's also a mineral-related term and I always assumed that reference was intentional, but maybe it's not and this is the only intended significance to Comby's name?

16.

Rainbow Quartz 2.0's design is not discussed, though the other two new Fusions from "Change Your Mind" (Sunstone and Obsidian) were. RQ2 has some sketches included, but no accompanying narrative in the text.

17.

A sheet of corrupted Gems and their healed selves is offered, though it doesn't appear to be final. The obelisk in "Serious Steven" is labeled Albite. The unnamed Worm Monster, Desert Glass, and Watermelon Tourmaline are included. An unnamed birdlike Gem represents the Big Bird monster from "Giant Woman." The crab monster from "Arcade Mania" is labeled Blue Chalcedony. The Tongue Monster is drawn uncorrupted but not named. The Flower Monster from "Back to the Kindergarten" is labeled Grossular Diopside or Titanite. The invisible monster from "Island Adventure" is labeled Moonstone. The Lighthouse Gem is labeled White Topaz. A form for Larimar that was used in "Change Your Mind" but changed in Future is there. The Slinker is listed as Chrysocolla. And the Crab Monster is listed as Aventurine.

On the next page, this is changed to Bixbite (as it was in Steven Universe Future), and we then also have Lace Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate, Crazy Lace Agate (Fusion), Ocean Jasper, the Mother Centipeetle Nephrite (Facet 413 Cabochon 12) and three other Nephrites, Angel Aura Quartz, a hooded Jasper, Zebra Jasper, Biggs Jasper, Watermelon Tourmaline (labeled as Fusion of Gem * Onion--huh?), Snowflake Obsidian, "Little" Larimar, and Orange Spodumene (who was the Worm).

18.

The Rhodonite side story would have been about the love story of a Ruby and a Pearl working for Morganite. Images of Morganite and her servants, unfused, are in the book. We do not get this additional information, but Rebecca said in a panel shortly before the book's release that Rhodonite's story would have been about finding out that she had been Rejuvenated 17 times because her components kept falling in love and needing to be reset.

19.

Referring to the Diamonds on one of the charts, Steven's perspective is "I can't believe I helped these" and then there's a censor bar. Welp.

20.

Some included art by Hilary Florido features Kevin with a souped-up Koala Princess car and another where Kevin is staring at himself in the mirror in front of an altar to himself.

21.

Rebecca's sweater collection is included in the Crew art.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

#steven universe #steven universe end of an era #su spoilers #long post #su merch #myblog

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mandalorewhore · 4 years ago

Text

Two Steps Ahead

PART THREE OF HUNTER (formerly hunter and prey)

gif by @princessxkenobi

Rating: Explicit Content Warnings: SMUT, Fighting as Foreplay, Rough Sex, Penetrative Sex(PIV), Unprotected Sex, Dirty talk, Praise kink, Size kink, Big Dick Mando, Top Mando, Sub/Dom elements, Very slight Pain Kink, possible CNC elements although I didn’t write that I also want to warn anyone who doesn’t want to read about rough sex with physical fighting as foreplay Words: 6.9k AO3 LINK

Summary: Reader and Mando start tracking their first bounty together

A/N: i believe things are happening...interesting

***

“I feel like you have a distinct advantage here.” A bead of sweat drips over your brow as you mop at your sweltering forehead in irritation. Your temple throbs as you press on it, pain shooting down your neck at the pressure.

It’s so fucking humid here. You’re tracking one of Mando’s bail jumpers in the middle of a boggy swamp planet that you never caught the name of and you’ve been walking through the forest for at least 24 hours, only stopping for water and ration breaks. Based on the holo-map you’re currently staring at, this entire planet is one big swamp, with no escape from the damp, sticky environment.

The thing barely makes sense, a jumble of colors and shapes that worsens your headache the longer you try to figure it out. You had borrowed a thin shirt from Mando before setting out, but it does little to protect you from the buzzing swarms of insects, while at the same time it reflects just enough heat to have you sweltering.

Mando acts unbothered under all that padding and armor, trekking through the trees without any visible sign of struggle. You don’t understand how he can stay awake for so long without caf, yourself being covered in caf-patches to keep from passing out. It’s probably somewhat dangerous to have so much of the stimulant coursing through your veins, but oh well. If my heart gives out then at least I’ll escape the bugs.

“Footprints aren’t the only way to track a quarry.” He returns mildly, moving swiftly over tangled tree-roots to avoid the pools of murky water that litter the forest floor. You move with less grace behind him, trying to climb slippery wood and juggle the holo at the same time. The twisted trees of this planet seem to reach inward to point at the forest floor, giving you the impression of being trapped within their clutches. The eerie feeling isn’t helped by the distinct lack of light, odd lichen tendrils drape between branches to create a blanket that absorbs most natural light from the sky. A faint glow emanates from the tendrils, basking the forest with ghostly illumination. You scramble to the top of the particularly tall root he’s perched on then plop down to catch your breath.

“No, it’s not the only way,” you pause to take a swig from your water skin, dabbing off the spilled drops from your chin with your sleeve, “but the footprints you track are apparently all glowy and red. I get to look with my naked eyes for shit like depressions in the ground, which is so fun considering the only paths here are solid wood.”

Mando rolls his helmet on his shoulders, the effect similar to someone rolling their eyes. When he speaks it’s short and gruff, annoyed by your attitude. Which is… appropriate. The hours you’ve spent walking in this heat together is starting to snap both of your tempers. “Stop complaining.”

He’s not wrong about the footprints. You’re mostly annoyed because of how useless you feel, more like you’re tagging along than assisting him on the hunt. Drawing your eyebrows together you try to come up with a plan. Most of those mercenary skills you talked up for Karga don’t apply here, this naturalistic setting is too messy and... wild. Unpredictable. You’re used to the structure that comes with starships and cities, places engineered and civilized.

Tracking people isn’t very hard, you’ve done it plenty of times before. The only issue is that all of your practice came from environments where they left clear signs of direction, displaced gravel indicating a shoe-print, broken branches, a trail in sand. It also helps that your targets didn’t know they were being stalked. The only path here is over hard wooden tree roots, with nothing to indicate direction, not even moss grows over the foot trail for traveling feet to mark. You take in a deep breath and hold it for several seconds before letting out all your air in one huge swoop.

“I’m sorry, “ you tell him sincerely, “I want to help you -and not just for a bigger cut. Is there anything I can do?” You truly do feel bad for snapping at him even if you know you’re right about his advantage. Just because you don’t have fancy thermal settings and footprint tracking doesn’t mean you’re useless. The Mandalorian settles his hands on his hips and surveys the area, looking for a task to assign you. His helmet tilts up and lingers on the trees, and you’re already two steps ahead before he can voice his idea.

“I can climb,” you interject, standing up swiftly and moving. “Trees can’t be more slippery than a spacecraft.”

He nods in acknowledgment. “Find something and your cut goes up by five percent.”

“Ten percent.” You grin at him cheekily, wanting to tease him even if he won’t give it to you.

“Eight, if you find somewhere to camp.”

“Deal.” You return, already halfway to the widest tree you can reach without getting your feet wet. The trunk is covered in knots and twisted vines, ugly but providing fantastic handholds for your hands and feet. Grabbing hold of a sturdy looking ledge you begin your ascent.

The climb is fairly easy even with the woods damp surface, and you reach the forest canopy with minimal effort. Carefully squirreling around the thin top-most branches you attempt to find a break-through point, the wood beneath you bowing a little from your weight.

When you finally poke your head through and see the sky you gasp, taken aback by the sight. You hadn’t hung around in the cockpit during landing, instead choosing to pack the bags while Mando skillfully piloted his ship. The forest floor is all you’ve seen of the planet and apparently you’ve missed a lot.

The sky here is beautiful, a color palette that is completely opposite from the dark, damp underbelly of the forest ground. Swirling aquamarine clouds float lazily in the sky, speckling the orange hued atmosphere above you. There are at least 6 pale moons lined up on the horizon from edge to edge, stars twinkling around each orb as if drawn to their orbit. You drink in the sight greedily, the ache in your head lessening in the natural light. This is so much better than the cold stark metal of space stations that you’re used to living on.

It’s hard to tell the time based on the sky alone, the moons must be constantly present in the sky no matter the time of day and you can’t find a single sun. Maybe this planet lives off the light and heat from each moon, reflected from a distant star? The thought is lovely but you don’t think it’s possible. You file the image away for your daydreams then divert your eyes back to the thick forest, searching for anything useful to tell Mando.

The line of trees is unbroken, a sea of dark green leaves and glowing lichen. An orange sky helps to warm up the pale glow from the lichen but it’s eeriness still sends a shiver through you. Everything on the horizon is of even height, betraying nothing within its depths. It isn’t ideal. You gnaw your lip anxiously, dreading to return to Mando without any information especially on your first hunt together. Eyes flitting around desperately, you try to analyze any possible breaks in the natural pattern of trees.

Could that be a settlement there? You think, looking at a slightly thinner section of forest that might roughly be three miles away. You aren’t sure about the planet’s curvature and how flat the terrain is so you double check the holo, looking for the information.

Something catches your eye as you’re pulling up the data, just substantial enough in your peripheral version that you stop what you’re doing. There is a mist rising from that thinned area, far enough away that you mistook it as some sort of lighting effect from the overwhelming color palette here. That has to be steam right? It’s too thick to be naturally occurring from the bog. There must be machinery over there. A settlement hopefully.

You’re about to climb down when you pause, looking at the still lit holo with renewed curiosity. Something about the map visually paired with your clear view of the forest allows the pieces to fall in place. When you compare the shape of the map to the trees you’re finally able to make sense of what you previously thought was a topographical mess. A built pathway lies here, a body of water there. And clearings. Several clearings not too far from where you are now, the perfect size to settle down in. Hopefully they’re dry.

Either the caf-patches are finally sending you into cardiac arrest or you’re manically happy to finally be of help to your hunting partner, but either way, you’re grinning so widely that your teeth clatter together.

“Hey Mando! Guess what you owe me?” You shout down at the ground, beginning to descend. You’re so excited that you practically slide down the vines, jumping to the ground when you’re several feet high in the air, sore muscles creaking at the impact. The Mandalorian is sitting now, resting with his elbow propped on his knee while he waited for you to come back. There’s a soft pang in your chest and you wonder if he’s tired. You brush it off, feeling as though you’re just projecting, and instead grin widely at him in triumph. “7 percent increase for me!”

He lifts his helmet and looks you up and down. “What did you find?”

You reply chirpily, hands grasped behind your back and shit-eating grin still plastered on your face. “There is a settlement of some kind roughly three miles that way,” you point in the direction where you saw the steam, “and several clearings nearby suitable to camp in, if we don’t want to head in right away. Oh, also we aren’t on the actual path used by locals here, the asset must be making an effort to hide.”

“That isn’t very smart of them,” Din observes, shaking his head at the concept. “Busy path hides more prints.”

“Hm…” You take that in, wondering what other techniques a quarry may use to shake its hunter.

It occurs to you that there is a lot you could learn from the Mandalorian, since so far hunting someone has been notably different from your mercenary missions. You’ll find a moment to ask questions later once you’re settled down for the night, wherever that’ll be. “Do you want to camp or find the maybe-settlement?”

“We should camp,” he responds immediately, rising from his seated position and walking closer to you, “we don’t know what we’ll face there. You can choose the area, since you climbed the tree.”

You pull up the holo-map again and zoom in on the different options, feeling far more energized now that you actually know what you’re doing. There are two spots that seem encouraging, both a short hike away from where you are now but removed enough to grant you some privacy. You’ll still need to set up a watch to prevent ambush or stray travelers from finding you but it’ll be easier if you make an effort to hide. One of the clearings seems to have a running water source, you hope it’s cleaner than the still-water you’re currently surrounded by. Maybe you can bathe there too.

“Lets go here,” you pull up the coordinates for Mando, “that looks like a stream, right?”

He leans into your body for a closer look, broad chest just brushing against you in a way that sends flutters through your tummy. You know he can zoom in with his visor, there is no reason he needs to be so close to you except for your benefit. He seems to enjoy messing with you like this, throwing you off with unexpected touches, looks, and gestures. It’s like a game he plays and you’d be far more annoyed by his teases if it wasn’t so exciting.

“Looks good,” he rumbles low in his chest. “Fresh water would be nice.”

Your heart quickens, but you tried to hide your reaction by teasing him back, tapping your fingers on his helm and stepping away. “I was hoping to clean myself up, actually…”

Mando straightens up at this, visor locked on your face.

“Lead the way.” He returns quietly, giving away nothing. Trying not to smile, you start off in the direction of the clearing, for once moving faster than your armored companion.

Your goal isn’t very far, only about 3 miles north of your previous position and a mile adjacent to the settlement you’ll pay a visit to tomorrow. Large, fuzzy fronds of an alien fern droop down the sides of the hollow clearing, providing a barrier between the forest and empty space in between. The trees still tangle above the open area, blocking out part of the beautiful sky, save a few of the large moons, and old pieces of charcoal are ground into the sandy earth here, a sight that makes you a little anxious. This spot must be used by others, you’ll have to be more careful with setting up the watch than expected.

The water source turns out to be a small spring set on the edge of a cliff at the far end of the clearing, a sizable waterfall cascading down the side and gathering in a crystalline pool. Skipping ahead of Mando to the edge of the pool you crouch and dip your fingers in the cool water, sighing in relief as it relieves some of the warmth in your overheated body.

You’re unable to hear Mando’s approach - how he is so stealthy under 50 pounds of metal escapes you, but you feel him behind you. You smirk. Arching your back as you rise, you turn around slowly and begin to make eyes in his direction however, when you actually see what he's doing, you cringe at yourself in embarrassment. He’s not looking like you assumed, instead he is surveying the clearing skeptically, body-language imbued with disapproval. Your heart simultaneously sinks to your stomach and contracts in frustration. You thought you had finally done something right.

“What? Is something wrong?” You ask him tightly, subtly shrinking in on yourself in disappointment. You try to hide this by fiddling idly with a stray thread on your tunic, stubbornly keeping your head lifted high despite wishing you could disappear. He doesn’t respond right away, instead turning and walking the length of the clearing then back, stopping just in front of you sharply. You meet his visor with your eyes, holding the look until you feel like you’re burning up in shame from the pressure of it.

“It’s too… open,” he finally says, voice halting as he tries to find the correct words. “Anyone could walk into our camp.”

“I figured we’d set up a watch. There’s only one entrance-”

He interrupts you. “One ground entrance. Anyone can climb down from the trees.”

“Maybe, but this planet isn’t supposed to be dangerous, is it? Practically abandoned,” You huff out, fists clenching at your sides as you argue with him. “Besides. It’s… pretty here.”

The Mandalorian sighs, pinching the helmet just below the visor where his nose bridge would be. “Fine. I’ll take the first watch. No fire.”

Nodding in response, you cross the clearing and set your bag down on a log, letting out a sigh in relief. That’s fine by you, you don’t need the extra warmth and the glowing lichen provides enough light to get by. You really did not want to hike again after moving for 24 hours straight. Mando mirrors your movements, leaning his rifle next to your pack before settling on the sandy earth. A loaded pause passes between you, earlier implications at the forefront of your minds.

Letting out a shuddering breath you crouch down and pull your old tunic from your bag, slinging it over your shoulder before making your way back to the small pond. The water is completely clear, an inviting sight after the marshy puddles that made up the forest ground on your way here. You’re facing the water now but you’re still well aware of the man behind you, the intensity of his gaze burning even through the impassive visor. The invitation is clear. Take it off.

But you aren’t sure if you want to give him that yet. The exhaustion from today has wrung you dry, small bickerings between you and your work partner dampening the sweet mood leftover from Nevarro. Apologizing with sex isn’t really your thing. You’d rather stoke the mutual respect between you as allies instead of start up a pattern of fighting then making up.

You crouch at the water's edge, peering into the depths for a moment before splashing your face with cold water, fresh scar throbbing as blood rushes to the surface of your face. The spare tunic you grabbed just brushes the surface of the water, sending ripples throughout your reflection. Curious, you lean over and observe the way the mirror-like pond breaks off into fragments, bits of you here and there mixing in with the moons that lay on russet sky.

Like a painting. You think in awe, having only seen a couple of the artifacts in person. The richest target you were assigned to owned two pieces of art, real paintings on real paper, encased in transparisteel viewing cases before you smashed open the backing to wonder at them. You close your eyes and try to recall the texture of the paint before the rest of your memory catches up and sours the whole thing. The man's home had to be burned in order to erase evidence, his paintings too large to smuggle out of the city.

When you open your eyes the pond has settled with your reflection only- you’re not alone.

“Maker!” You jump at the sight of the Mandalorians gleaming helmet appearing in the reflection. “What the fuck, you sneak.”

He just chuckles in response and offers you a hand, which you take firmly while rolling your eyes and standing. He leads you back to sit with him on the sandy earth, taking ration bars out of his pack- not yours, and breaking them evenly between you. The gesture is surprisingly tender and none too appreciated what with your stomach growling audibly at the bland meal. All at once, you are reminded by the spattering of caf-patches on your limbs, the jitteriness becoming more apparent now that you’re finally still. You’re shaking. Mando notices as well.

“You may explode.” He remarks, prompting you to start pulling off the stimulant, crumpling each piece and setting them neatly in a pile at your knee.

“Good, let me explode. You’re too bossy to work with.” You return with a smirk, hoping your sarcasm lands. He hums in response, pulling one of the patches off of your forearm and flicking it in your direction for you to catch.

Tutting, you roll the patch into a ball and set it at the top of your pile. “Don’t leave a mess, this forest is ugly but at least it’s untouched,” you tell him firmly. Mando just nods.

The ration bars are hardly a delicacy but you shove them in your mouth all the same, appreciating the engineering behind them. They are so calorie rich that a piece the size of your palm can keep you going for hours. However, your body can’t seem to relax despite the food lining your belly- perhaps you actually overdid the caf. You should be tired right now. Staying awake for more than a day isn’t exactly the average schedule but your knee bounces uncontrollably in a frantic pattern, stirring up puffs of sand between you and the warrior.

“You need to tire.” Mando mutters, firmly placing a glove on your thigh and holding the limb down. “Stop that.”

“Sorry,” you reply, trying to freeze yourself and sit as still as he does. Mando always exists so sagely, like a monk. Completely calm when he wants to be before exploding into action, no warm-up necessary. You wonder if he had some sort of meditation training to achieve that. Is that why he sits like that in the cockpit, his back rod straight like a statue? Weirdo.

“Hey…” The palm at your thigh presses again and you suck in a sharp breath. You didn’t even realize you were twitching again. “Do I have to hold you down?” He growls.

You gulp. “Tempting. But no.” Your words come out steadier than you feel. The caf becomes all too much in that moment so you lurch to your feet, his gleaming helmet following your body as it rises jerkily. You feel far too energetic, needing to get the energy out somehow so you can finally pass out. Your idea leaves your mouth before you can truly think it over.

“Wanna fight?”

“...What?” Mando sounds truly surprised even if his body betrays nothing.

“You heard me,” you’re bouncing on the balls of your feet, swaying back and forth like a green sailor on the oceans of Mon Cala. “Let's practice our combat, I rarely get to do that.”

He’s standing before you can blink causing you to jerk back, startled by his speed. The Mandalorian poses right in front of you, too close to not be a challenge with his weight settled on one leg breezily.

“Okay. Hit me.”

What a taunting mother fu- You swing your left hand out as if aiming for the unarmored spot on his ribs, which he blocks with ease… leaving his throat open for your right fist to sharply jab.

The bounty hunter doubles over, coughing and clutching his neck with one hand.

“O-Oh shit! I’m sorry, I- I didn’t mean, let me-” You scramble with lost movements, trying and failing to help him straighten upright. It leaves you awkwardly placing your palms on his back while the crown of his helmet presses into your belly. “I, um… Mando?”

His arms wrap around your middle in a flash, pulling you tightly against his chest and throwing both your bodies to the ground. It happens so fast that you can’t even shriek before the air is knocked out of you, hitting the sand hard enough to throw it into the air around you. Gasping, you smack full force at the Mandalorian on top of you, his arms still crushing you against him while your legs lock straight together with his knees on either side. It’s sexy, but you’d really like to breathe. He lets up just barely.

“Nice punch,” he rasps, throat clearly affected by the hit. “Don’t think I’ll hold back after that though.”

“Don’t… want�� you to…” You shoot back at him, sharp as you can manage while wheezing. Mandos visor raises ever so slowly and pins you, hidden eyes holding you down more effectively than his body. After a drawn out moment of this, your head spinning as you calculate your escape strategy, he crawls up your body to prop himself above you, locking your wrists in one large hand with the other presses against your chest, shoving your back into the earth. It is just enough pressure to squeeze some air out of your lungs and it is then when you know he isn’t kidding about not holding back.

You’re so fucking happy that he isn’t letting you win.

In other instances, you’d panic at the hopeless feeling of being trapped like this, by someone twice your size and clad in the galaxy’s most powerful steel. But the way he spars with you now, full force and not playing easy... it has implied respect for your skill. He knows you can fight and doesn’t spare you the opportunity to prove it.

Only a second or two has passed since he fully immobilized you and you’re still locked in your flattened position. When he motions to stand, pulling your wrists as if to drag you, you know you must make your move now or it will be too late. The only spot he has open on his body right now is… well, right between his legs. The first thing a smaller fighter learns about combating larger foes is to fight dirty and there is no reason you should hold back if Mando isn’t. Your legs had been pinned tightly together before he moved to drag you but now there is just enough room to swing a knee up and hit him between the legs.

Mando doesn’t wear a full codpiece but luckily for you, the padding on his groin isn’t enough to block your kick. A choked sound rips out of his throat and he falls to one knee, the fingers encircling your wrists loosening slightly while he struggles to fight his body’s natural pain response. You wrench one hand free and use it to grip his cowled neckline, planting your feet against his cuirass and swinging yourself into a hanging position before his grip tightens again. He's steady but you try to dig your feet in to throw him forward, hoping to twist around and land on his back with his face down. He totters for one frozen second, both your bodies on the precipice of falling but unfortunately, he manages to wrench himself backwards and land heavily on his back with you on top.

You’re both gasping and groaning at the shock of hitting the ground so hard, and for one breathless moment all you do is stare heatedly at each other on the forest floor, eyes locking through his visor and somehow you know he is grinning.

His smile mirrors on your face when you feel his hands rip at your clothes, wrenching the thin pants off of you down to your thighs forcefully enough to knock your legs together with a dull thud.

“Did I not just kick you in the dick, Mando?” You laugh, working at his belt at the same time. He palms your ass through your underwear greedily, squeezing so hard that you know finger shaped bruises will blossom there.

“You missed.”

“Must’ve hurt either way…” You mutter, finally managing to reach under his thick layers and wrap your hand around his length, producing a low growl from the man beneath you. “Maybe, it's good I missed.”

The only response you get is his hands pulling both your hands to lay on his chest plate then traveling back down your body to tug aside your underwear and grind you down onto his hips, rubbing your now bare slit against his bulge. You vaguely remember deciding against coming onto him as a form of apology, but for some reason, since he started first that all ceases to matter. It feels like a game you’ve begun to play with each other, playing with the tension between you and the Mandalorian until you find out what breaks your resolve. Maybe it started even before you entered this forest, perhaps back on Nevarro or even on the station.

You can’t tell but you don’t want to question it either.

A moan falls from your throat, your hands moving on their own volition to try and remove his belt entirely, or at least enough to pull his cock out. Mando’s glove flashes up again to circle your wrists, immobilizing them and harshly pinning you down with his vambrace lain across your back.

“You yield?” He asks, voice dripping with a sickly triumph. A chill runs down your back and you feel as if he just dunked you into the pond.

“W-What?”

“You yield… I win?”

“Wha- No!” You cry out indignantly, struggling against his iron grip. “I didn’t realize we were still sparring!”

He laughs, fully bodied and dark with some emotion that swirls deep within your core, and you can’t put your finger on it exactly but you know you’ll have to do something before you’re swept up entirely. “Oh, but we are. What shall the winner gain?” He asks, so quietly that it is almost lost in the warped modulator, barely a question and more so a crackling of static.

Fuck, you’re so wet.

You lick your lips and shakily respond. “I am not one to give up, however-”

“Then don’t. Keep fighting.”

Oh, and you love what he implies. There is no reason to argue further and less time to act, so you immediately struggle hard with the upper half of your body, wrenching your wrists to try and distract him from the way your legs are free to swing into his ribs. But Mando doesn’t fall for your feint a second time. In fact, he seems to have expected it, his leg is more than prepared to hook around the back of your knees and hold you against his body, rolling to the side to throw you underneath him.

You’re pinned on your back with nearly his full weight, unable to do more than weakly punch at what you can reach- unfortunately for you all you can reach is armor. Your cry of anger is cut short when Mando flips onto your front, your chest pressed roughly to the floor of the forest.

The helmet appears over your shoulder, his ragged breathing right by your ear. “T-This okay? You want this?” You can’t find your words to respond with the way you're held so tightly against the earth, so you nod as best you can with one cheek pressed into the ground. Mando snarls something furiously, one hand leaving your back to fumble with his pants and pull his cock out, lining himself up at your soaking entrance and running the head through your folds.

His helmet drops back down to your shoulder, the visor turning and burying itself into the line of your neck and you know that if he weren’t bound by his creed then he would be kissing dark bruises there.

“You know this means I win,” he hisses, pressing his cock to breach your tight opening ever so slightly.

“I-I know.” You whimper weakly.

With that, he fully pushes himself into you and if you weren’t so wet you know his size would be unbearably painful. Instead, the stretch is pure bliss, a slow burning sensation that has a hint of sting to it, his dominance lending to complete submission and all you can do is lay there and take it. There is still the strain you grew to know from when he allowed you to use his body on Nevarro, but something about Mando topping you encourages you to open yourself for him with more ease.

He quickly bottoms out then holds himself till, allowing you to adjust to his size. You’re writhing as much as possible under the way he crushes you to the floor, knees carving grooves in the soft sandy earth.

“Fuck,” Mando grits, teeth clenched together so hard that you swear you can hear the grinding in his jaw. “You’re so fucking tight, fuck.”

The position is hard to maintain on the soft ground, his hands keep sliding ever so slightly on either side of you forcing him to adjust every few seconds. His patience breaks after the third time this happens, a growl crackling through the helmet as he settles his hands on your lower back and hoists his body up, knees planted on either side of your thighs, crushing them together with intense pressure on your clit. Your body is locked tight, pussy clenching harder around his cock when he rises into an upright position.

You let out a genuine scream when he draws back then thrusts sharply into you, pain mixing with pleasure in a manner far more biting than on his ship, when he had let you take control entirely, never even doing so much as to thrust into you. It is almost too much for you but even while you struggle to take his cock, you don’t dare tell him to stop, nor do you want him to stop. You’re so blinded by the stretch that you don’t realize he is speaking until you miss several, distorted words.

“Fuck, why did I wait, why did I wait? I should’ve fuck-fucked you back on the station, approached you in that hangar and made myself fucking clear-” Each gritted word is accentuated by a mean thrust, his dick is so big that he has to shove himself inside of you rather than glide, breaking you open in a way that burns so sweetly. Your legs are held together, knees locked and straight, which doesn’t help how tight you are but you can’t budge at all to open yourself to Mando, his hands pressing down at your lower back so heavily that you’re short of breath.

A garbled moan is forced out of you when Mando grinds his length into your pussy as deep as he can possibly reach, hips smashing against your ass while he pulses inside of you and for a second you think he's cumming. But no- he draws himself from your depths and starts to rut his cock between your cheeks, head resting on your upper back and hands by your head.

A powerful hand wraps under your side and settles at your sternum, pulling you back against his cuirass and lifting so that you end up seated together, fitting against him without even an inch of space between your bodies. His hand lifts your hips, other appendage snaking around to position his cock back at your entrance before allowing gravity to do the work, your legs spreading to rest on either side of his thighs as you sink down on him to the hilt.

Once settled, Mando starts to work you on his cock, lifting you like you weigh no more than a pebble then letting go. The head of his cock slams full force into your pussy with the weight of your entire body, each brutal pounding sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. Lungs free and no longer crushed to the floor, you’re unable to stay quiet, broken sobs and moans puffing from gritted teeth as he takes what he denied himself on his ship, the memory a thousand miles away as your processing center is fucked stupid.

You can’t say how long this goes on for, maybe minutes, maybe hours, but the next thing you know is that your cheek is back on the sand, burning from the way it chaffs against the floor with each rhythmic thrust that claps against your thighs. You’re don’t even know if you’ve cum yet but it doesn’t matter, not with the way he is fucking the life out of you here in the wilderness. Mando is still talking, still uttering filth and praise through the helmet and all you can think about is how badly you want to hear his real voice speaking that way to you, you’re so close to asking him to take it off but you can’t find the words, you can’t think, you can’t-

Abruptly, he grinds to a halt at the deepest point in your body then pulls himself free, pushing your shirt up lighting fast before cumming across your back with a choked exclamation. You’re both still for a second before your knees collapse, landing flat on your belly and gasping desperately. There is a shuffling noise behind you, accompanied with heavy breaths from the bounty hunter. It sounds like he’s rummaging through something then, yeah- your train of thought is confirmed when a wet cloth wipes his pleasure from your skin, gently trailing along your spine and ass.

You reach behind you and hold his wrist, feeling the fluttering pulse there. “I’ll win next time…” You whisper, drawing his hand along the soreness on your bottom, the area he bruised, you suspect. He laughs- or pants you can’t really tell, but either way his touch becomes more gentle on your body, smoothing out the tense muscles and cleaning you up. Today's travels with the man have suddenly caught up to you and you might pass out right here, half clothed and dirty.

“Come on, get up. Don’t sleep here.” Mando firmly states, helping you up and guiding you across the clearing after you pull your leggings up from where they gathered at your ankle. You’re trembling like a leaf, fragile in your spent state but glowing all the same. Mando sets you down on a log and brings you a canteen of water which you gulp down thankfully. He chuckles. “Wait up or I’ll have to drink from the spring.”

That gives you pause, reminding you of something he said while you lay beneath him. You’re slightly nervous to ask but you do it anyway, warm and satisfied on your perch while he cares for you. “You.. When you were, um- fucking me. Well, you said something about how you shouldn’t have waited. Does that mean what I think it means?”

He nods, “I noticed you for other reasons too, burc’ya.”

“Maybe you should’ve fucked me back then.” Taking another gulp then handing the canteen back, you stretch then slide down to sit on the ground with him, back against the log. “You said that word before, ber-borshaw?”

“Burc’ya.”He corrects,“It means friend in Mando’a.”

“Oh.”You cheeks heat, feeling silly and rude for not recognizing the use of his people’s tongue, also noting that he used it to refer to you twice now, endearingly. It is an honor, one that makes you nervous. You feel like you should apologize, somehow. “Y-You speak Mando’a? I’ve never heard you use it before.”

Mando settles against the log, leaning his broad shoulders to rest against the wood near your side. A few moments pass before he responds, “I chose to not use it around the others. Didn’t trust them.”

“Oh, so you trust me?” You giggle, tapping the side of his helmet with your elbow. Questions burn within you and you may as well ask now, in the quiet afterglow of sex where everything is warm and slow. “Why didn’t you trust them if you started the company with Ran? How am I any different?”

“You aren’t ruthless,” he surprises you by answering immediately, and you can’t decide whether you're insulted or not before he continues. “Ruthless and cruel is all that group ended up being, and it didn’t start out that way. We weren’t just mercenaries, we had a code. In the early days, attacking a slave ship would’ve been out of the question. Ran wasn’t always so full of greed.”

Silence falls after he speaks, letting you mull over his explanation for a while while the waterfall rumbles in the background. Really, his perspective confuses you when you think back on your actions as a mercenary. Desperate to climb the ranks, to make a name for yourself, to earn credits and reputation. You suppose you conducted yourself with empathy, avoiding selection for hits that targeted innocent people if you could help it. You never had much choice in the area but it seems your actions spoke louder than realized. So much energy spent to avoid seeming weak and you never considered that your aversion doubled as strength.

“Friend…” You whisper, not of your own accord. The word floats on your tongue, a specter within your vocabulary. In your adulthood you’ve had allies, you’ve had teammates, you’ve had acquaintances, but to have a friend… it terrifies you as much as it warms your heart. You considered yourself partnered professionally with the Mandalorian and didn’t dare to consider yourself lovers, no matter how much you privately hoped. But a friend is a luxury you didn’t hold close, mainly out of fear. You lost too many as a child. For a faceless man he manages to strike areas that are quite intimate.

You decide that you’ll enjoy being his friend, a bit surprised that you aren’t too hurt by what is essentially a romantic rejection of the crush you held for so long. Probably because this is real , solid and built within reality instead of the silly fantasies you built prior.

This is better than lovers, you tell yourself, the slight ache in your heart melting into the background of your desires, behind lock and key for another world.

“I’ll take ‘friend’, Mando.” You grin, extending a hand to him cheekily. He stares for a second before taking it and shaking, helmet tilting in a respectful nod.

His next words send an unexpected pang throughout your chest, taking all the careful walls you worked hard to set up and throwing them into a blazing inferno.

“Let’s see where it goes.”

Fuck.

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

Leather boots prance lightly through thick branches high in the trees, footfalls landing silently with all the grace of an athlete. Through the delicate glasses perched on the pursuers nose, a red glow blooms on the shadowy floor of the swamp, two sets of footprints lighting up to reveal a steady path made by the travelers. A musical giggle bubbles out of the darkly dressed woman as she pulls a small holo-watch from her bag and straps it onto her wrist, pale light mixing with her lavender skin, transforming it into a sickly grey.

Xi’an claps a hand over her mouth to prevent her cackle from ringing through the trees as her plan takes form.

***

TAG LIST (working on it slowly, message if you want)

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sleepyjuniper · 3 years ago

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HI! I am June, and I love movies! I've been working on something, and I don't usually post my work because I don't get a lot of views, but I feel what I've written here is really important, and I would very much appreciate a read, and maybe an upvote if you enjoy what you've read! I've really put my heart out on the line here, and it would be great for it to get some traction, so a movie I care about greatly can finally get some recognition.

So, Home is now back on Netflix. As a result, the passion I've always felt for this film has been rekindled, and now feels like the perfect time to bring it back to attention, to get it the praise it truly deserves. To explain, I was watching it last week and I suddenly had an epiphany. I suddenly connected more with Oh's character than I ever had before, and every little detail in the movie started to pop out at me and further strengthen this feeling. I became so obsessed with the depth of it's heavy emotional scenes and gorgeous visuals that I immediately got to writing. It gets a bit tricky to collect my thoughts every time I try to address what this writing actually is; it's not necessarily an analysis, not necessarily an essay, because it lacks direction and a real conclusion, or motive, I guess. I'm simply going in depth into the scenes that I think are most pivotal to Oh's development as a character, and providing my own personal insight into how he's thinking and what he's feeling, based on the evidence I am able to glean from what the movie shows me, rather than tells me. I'm picking into each scene and bringing to light the specific details that make it so powerful to me, and how these details allow me to fully understand and connect with the characters in a way I can't with other films.

But regardless of what it is, the more in depth I go, the more it speaks to me, and the more I understand it. The more reason I have to believe that Oh has a perfect character arc, which is so well written and perfectly pulled off, that it creates a movie that is authentic, heartfelt, and complete in every way. There's simply no other like it. Now, with no further ado, let's get into it.

Every good story starts with an introduction to the main character. The beginning scenes of Home introduce us to Oh's character perfectly. They depict him as an adorable misfit with a propensity to make mistakes, who just wants to make friends. We learn that he is widely disliked by the rest of the Boov because of his differences, that he adores Captain Smek, and that he believes Boov are best at everything. We learn a lot about his personality too. All the Boov look similar, but he is much more animated than the other Boov, moving with more energy, and appears to be in a perpetual state of excitement. He’s the only Boov we see smiling at first, and what really sets him out is the way he emotes. While most of the Boov carry neutral expressions, their eyebrows relaxed, his eyebrows are constantly raised and his eyes are wide, making them stand out much more prominently. His color changing also adds an extra layer to his character, allowing us to see even deeper into what he's feeling at any given point during the movie. The movie can tell us more, with less words. It is immediately apparent to the audience just how different Oh is from the rest of his people; we can clearly see from the get-go that Oh's emotions work differently than the rest of the Boov. And this only adds to the impact of later scenes, as he starts to experience more complex emotions and venture further into unknown territory.

When the starting conflict of the story is introduced, we learn about the first real challenge he needs to overcome. He made a mistake, and is now on the run from his own people, who want to arrest him. Right now, his motivation is simply to avoid capture. It can be assumed that until now, Oh hasn't faced danger alone. He's likely faced danger while the Boov were running away from the Gorg, but he was always facing the threat with the rest of his species. This is the first time he's been completely alone while running from something, and it's all his fault too. We can pick all of this up from context, and feel sympathy for him and his terror, which is very much justified.

When Oh and Tip first meet, they start out not liking each other, and have conflicting opinions. Oh believes the Boov are more advanced than humans because Smek said so, and he doesn't understand why Tip cares so much about one human. Conversely, Tip hates Oh because his species is the reason she's separated from her mother. They are agreeing to work together out of common interest, that's it. Oh has promised to help Tip find her mom, but he does this only to avoid capture. These scenes are full of fun quips and hilarious antics, as the movie starts to build up a foundation for Oh's character dynamic with Tip. What the movie conveys to us is that these two characters don't know each other, and don't have any interest in listening to and understanding each other.

Things really pick up later in the movie. Oh disappears for a long while, and when he returns, Tip yells at him, and he stops in his tracks, looking genuinely astounded and confused by her anger. He was especially shocked that she was afraid he'd been hurt. We can actually see the moment he does a double-take at the realization that she had been worried about him. Likely, no one has ever worried about him before. For the first time, we see him actually absorb what she's saying, listening to her with a curious expression as she tells him to try and put himself in her shoes. Tip explains to him that kids aren't supposed to be by themselves, and that the Boov's arrival ruined everything for her. When Oh says that Boov don't have families, she remarks that it's no wonder they take things and don't care about anyone else. This gives him pause, and he appears to think carefully, before speaking. No amount of explanation can really do this scene justice, so a direct quote of his monologue is needed. He says: "So, your mimom.. is a very important humansperson to you. More important than others. To not belong with her.. causes you being sad. But, recent moments ago, you are kicking on me and yelling. Which is seeming more to be mad than sad." This gives us the first true indication that Oh is trying to be more open minded. Tip tells him to try and feel how she feels, and he does. With genuine sincerity, he's trying to understand how Tip can be feeling two emotions at once. Tip looks surprised by his sincerity, and has no energy to continue talking, but she listens, and she gets back into the car when he's finished. Not only does Oh state out loud that humans are more complicated than he thought, this scene is important because it's the first time they have anything close to a genuine moment of understanding. Simply put; he sees her react in a way he didn't anticipate, is perplexed by it, and pushes aside his own belief that he already knows everything about humans, and just asks her questions to understand her better. It is the first small sign of growth we get to see from him.

Tip and Oh gradually warm up to each other more over the course of their next few escapades. Oh explains to Tip why he's in trouble, and Tip realizes he's sad, and cheers him up by teaching him about jokes. They make a plan to give Oh a makeover so they can sneak into the Great Antenna without being caught, and Tip seems amused by his antics rather than annoyed. In the Antenna, Oh helps Tip find out where her mom is, and Tip hugs him. He looks surprised and uncertain for a moment, but quickly adjusts to it and even smiles, turning orange and hugging her back. From the information we have, we can extrapolate that this may or may not be the first time he's ever been hugged, due to the Boov's aversion to both Oh and physical contact. This is the most affection Tip has expressed with him so far, and he seems to just melt into it. He also looks as if he wasn't ready for the hug to end so abruptly. It's a sensation he's unfamiliar with, but immediately decides he wants.

This is when we see Oh, specifically, starting to trust Tip a bit more and even maybe like her, and their escape from the Tower shows them working with a newfound chemistry as they outsmart the Boov. We can tell Oh is scared at several points during the scene, because his yellow coloring indicates it, but he's also grabbing onto Tip as if it gives him reassurance. He trusts her enough to at least find comfort in her presence, which is something that wasn't true of their relationship in the beginning.

Following the events of the Eiffel Tower scene, Tip starts to talk about her mom, excited to find her and maybe even come back to Paris. When she turns around, Oh is standing further away and looking at the now wrecked central command, his skin displaying a dejected blue color. What does he have to come back to after everything is over? Tip knows where she belongs, but Oh would never be able to go back to the Boov in safety after his mistake. He is questioning his belonging. Tip notices he's sad, and attempts to cheer him up. It doesn't work, but Oh does something that surprises Tip. He apologizes to her. During the confrontation with Smek, Oh finally realized how Smek was wrong for causing the misunderstandings between Boov and Humans, and that he would never accept any Boov for showing individuality. Oh acknowledges everything that he previously thought about humans was wrong, and that Captain Smek was also wrong. He even looks ashamed to tell her that in the beginning, the Boov thought humans were simple and uncomplicated, and that they needed the Boov. He tells her he thinks the Boov should never have interfered with Earth, and that he's sorry for how it affected her. He doesn't say anything during his apology that would guilt Tip into responding a certain way; just gives an honest apology, and allows her the freedom to decide how she reacts. This is something that's incredibly meaningful coming from Oh. He's not trying to get anything from her, he's just apologizing for something he was complacent in and is now feeling regretful about. It's raw and heartfelt. She hands him the keys, and he looks surprised at first, then gives a huge smile, holding the keys close to his heart and turning orange.

The following scene is perhaps the most important one in the film, and is incredibly impactful. Accompanied by the gentle tune of a song that slowly gets louder as the movie switches from dialogue between characters to simply visual storytelling, we watch as Oh and Tip take turns driving, and exchange vulnerability with each other, both describing their own experiences with being misfits. We see them laughing together, taking selfies, and just in general enjoying each other's company. Tip completely accepts Oh for who he is, and in turn he lets his walls down, and is finally able to be himself. This is a real bond they've formed. They are truly friends. Both look nothing alike, yet have so much in common.

Finally, we see Oh taking his turn driving at night while Tip sleeps, and he goes to tuck her back in when her blanket falls down. As we hear Kiezca's 'Cannonball' playing in the background (and on the radio) he takes a moment to appreciate the things in the car, discovering he does indeed enjoy them. Finally, he adjusts his mirror to watch Tip sleep, and we see him slowly turn a brand new color: pink. If you were to recap his life so far, the significance of this moment becomes clear. Oh is outgoing and friendly, but he's never fit in in his entire life. No matter how hard he tried to fit in with the Boov, he simply had emotional needs that the rest of the Boov did not, and as such they did not care about or recognize his need. Tip is the first person who has ever listened to him and gotten to know him, and accepted him for who he is. She's his first friend. In this moment, he is looking at Tip, and he's feeling something he's never felt before: love. It feels like a part of him he's always been missing has finally been found. For the first time in his life, he feels like he belongs.

We find Oh further appreciating Tip's qualities when they find the Gorg super-chip; he was afraid to go towards the ship but she convinced him, and when it worked out he realized that her idea had worked out better than his would have. He realized he can achieve things through being brave rather than giving up; essentially, if you don't even try, you can never succeed. You can see in his expression after Tip smirks at him that he was surprised; he realized he had faced his fears, all because of Tip's help.

We see a monumental backslide in his progress when he leaves Tip instead of staying by her side and fulfilling his promise. His greatest challenge is revealed to be that he's still not brave; not brave enough to put his faith in the one he cares about, not brave enough to face his fears and stick by her no matter what. We do know that he's terrified; both of being left alone, and of losing Tip. He has just found a sense of belonging with Tip that he's never felt before, and he can't bear to lose that. He tries to bring her with him, and she feels betrayed and breaks off the friendship. The detail that went into this scene makes it incredibly impactful. It's raw and filled with emotion. For context, during the course of the movie, we only see a Boov go pale in the face during a few very intense situations, and said pale-ing was usually followed by fainting. This suggests that a lack of color is indicative of a much stronger, primal emotion: dread, or pain. When Tip turns and leaves, he loses pigment. He blanches, and staggers. There's a physical impact of Tip's words on Oh. This isn't simply sadness or fear he's feeling, it's anguish. It's his world falling apart, his heart breaking. He is quite literally torn in two, as he looks back and forth between his best friend and his chance at escape, changing rapidly from red to yellow to blue and back again. It emphasizes his turmoil; the panic he feels at seeing a rapidly closing window to decide what action to take, before he turns back to what he's always known, running away. There's high stakes on both sides, and we as an audience can feel his pain, as he displays clear indecision and helplessness at this impossible choice.

As the Boov travel farther from Earth, bringing the Gorg with them, Oh and Tip have never been farther apart. As the Gorg mothership closes in, everyone runs to the other side of the ship; all except Oh, who stares it down. He knows he can save everyone. He pulls out the super-chip, his gaze hardening with determination, and runs against the flow of the crowd to plant it in the control panel. Everyone stops to stare in disbelief, crowding around him afterwards, curious to hear him speak. Smek tries to ostracize him for acting unBoov-like, and Oh directly challenges him. He tells the listening crowd that he used to believe what Smek said was right, but he'd learned things that said otherwise. He talks about the human he met, and how she's smart and brave, and has an emotional capacity for caring for others that Boov lack. During this monologue, we see his skin turn pink again as he talks about Tip, reminding us as that he does still care about her. This also reminds him of his own actions, and he turns blue, concluding his speech by saying that the Boov may be better in some ways, but not in the ways he thinks are most important now. He realizes that Tip has strengths that are/would have been useful many times for the Boov. This is when it becomes apparent that he's regretting leaving; Tip made him stronger, and he now knows he can be as brave as she is.

Which is why it's an incredible payoff scene when he is made leader. He's surrounded by Boov who are cheering for him, but he feels lonelier than ever. He wanted to be accepted, but he wasn't ready to be looked up to. It doesn't feel right, he doesn't belong here. When he watches the view of Earth grow smaller as it fades into the distance, he actually cries, and catches a tear as it rolls down his cheek, a pensive look crossing his face. He pulls out Tip's keychain, and all in one instant he realizes why he's so miserable. He doesn't feel like he belongs here, because he belongs with Tip. It's where he's meant to be. He turns pink, looking hopeful, and in the next scene he turns up on earth, by himself, and finds Tip. It's not really necessary to explain why this is an important development; we can see everything there is to be said in the way they compose the scene. There's also the parallel shots where we see Tip and Oh both pushing through crowds and both looking completely alone despite all the people around them, emphasizing that they need each other. Oh just had to figure out he could follow Tip's example, what he'd learned from her bravery, to realize he could still salvage things. He realized a life feeling alone among the Boov was worth nothing, and a life with someone he truly cares about is worth facing any danger, no matter what may come.

Oh and Tip are reunited, and he tells her what he learned, that he realized she's his friend, and he belongs with her. You can see from the look they share that both of them feel this way. They've come full circle, to a full understanding and acceptance of each other.

Oh helps Tip find her mom, finally fulfilling his promise, and when the Gorg attack and he realizes it's because of the Boov, he tells Tip he's fixing his mistake, protecting the reunited family by making it so they're unable to chase him and be put in danger. He loves Tip, and he wants her and the human she cares most about to be safe. He's not about to let her risk losing that. So, bravely, yet stupidly, he runs to the Gorg mothership and holds up the thing they've been chasing the Boov for all this time. He tries to do it on his own, which is a major sign of his growth as a character, but the only reason the Gorg actually see him is because Tip has his back. He was fully prepared to sacrifice himself. When the ship is closing in on him, and the dust and sparks are blinding him, he turns around, and sees Tip running to him. He smiles, his trust fully in her; if he doesn't get out of this, she can save everyone else. He throws the rock to her before the ship covers him, choosing to put his faith in her in what he believes to be his final moments. He went from caring only about his own survival, to caring about the survival of his best friend, and wanting Tip to help make peace with the Gorg so the Boov and humans can be safe as well.

After we see Tip mourn for Oh before it's revealed that he's okay, she pulls him in for a hug, and he immediately embraces her back, then over Tip's shoulder we see him looking at her fondly, smiling, and he turns a vibrant pink as he closes his eyes and leans into the hug. Just by the look in his eyes in this scene, we can see that he's fully appreciating this being who cared about him enough to listen to him, to stand by him and stand up for him, and run after him when he's in danger. In this moment, he's getting a second chance to embrace her, when he went in not knowing if he'd ever see her again. In this moment it was all worth it. Because he looks at her, and he is home.

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sweetcathedral · 4 years ago

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Note: Finally revamped this story I had in my docs for a couple of months! I had to buy up all the mangas to fully understand the use of cursed energy & techniques since they contain detailed explanations from Akutami. Also had to take out ‘fillers’ since my intention was to keep it a short story that can either stand alone or could turn into a mini series later on, if I wanted to. My intention with this piece was more about story telling than nsfw, so skip to the last segment for nsfw. Hope y’all enjoy!

⚠️: 18+, backstory, plot, light bondage, fingering, raw, breeding

It was a bright and early morning for you to be running errands, but you were too excited to keep still, since Nanami was able to book a day off for you. You decided to pass the time grocery shopping for the ingredients you needed for lunch and dinner later on. Should I make macarons for dessert this time?

“Are . . . are you, o—okay? . . .” an eerie voice stops you in your tracks.

A cursed spirit hovers over the rails on the bridge ahead of you. You pass through this bridge often and the cursed spirits you encounter were usually no more than grade 3 at most, but this one was a grade 1. Nanami never let you anywhere near a curse that was more than a grade 3, probably because he didn’t want to risk the chance. Although you weren’t a Jujutsu sorcerer like he is, he trained you as if you were one.

You look to see if there was anyone around. No one. Carefully, you approach the curse, who’s taking no interest in you,

“I’m sorry,” you softly muttered. Upon absorbing the spirit through the brush of your finger, a series of feelings and memories flood your mind. Sadness, anger, jealousy, regret, anxiety, depression, mourning, resent. A funeral, a woman jumping off the bridge, failed tests, a child being burnt by cigarettes. The feelings and memories were never this vivid to you. Ah, I should’ve ignored it, you thought to yourself as your vision began to blur. But the last time you ignored one was back home—when your ex decided to take their own life. Everything went black.

It was only a fly head, but as time passed by it slowly grew on your ex, taking a toll on their physical health, then their mental health. After finishing their university degree, the job they finally landed was at a black company. The more hours they racked up at work, the less time you spent with each other.

“Sorry, I’ll be coming home late again.”

“Can we reschedule?”

“I’m afraid I can’t make it today.”

“How about another time?”

“Sorry, I need to take this call. It’s for work.”

Day by day they became distant and unresponsive to you. You were probably just as frustrated as they were. A feeling you’ll regret when the company calls to inform you of your ex’s body being found outside of work. They had jumped off the roof of the building. When you arrived at the morgue, a cursed spirit you haven’t seen before was latched to their lifeless body. The fly head you last saw had grown into a curse during the time they were away from you. Without hesitation, you absorbed it through the palm of your hand and all of their emotions and memories clouded your mind. Pain, stress, pressure, anxiety, depression, resentment, jealousy, anger, frustration.

“We’re on a tight schedule this week. I need this done by the end of the day.”

“You don’t have the luxury of a break right now.”

“What do you mean you can’t get it done? Do you know how important this is?”

“The meeting wasn’t a success. I’m gonna have to demote you.”

“Better than being fired.”

“Hey, if you do this for me I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Thanks to your hard work I was able to get promoted.”

All of their darkest memories played through your head, all the way until they walked to the roof of the building and jumped off. When you got back home, you broke down and cried in guilt and shame. You should’ve dealt with it before all of their feelings accumulated past the point of saving. The company.

After your emotions calmed down, you changed into a simple black outfit: a baseball cap, tee, jeans and your leather boots. That same night, you decided to break into the company and out of pure anger and regret, you take on every curse you saw in your path.

“Emerge from darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure,” Nanami chanted.

The veil spills over the building, where a numerous amount of employees committed suicide. Branding it as stigmatized.

“There was a recent suicide report this morning,” Ino looks over to the stained silhouette on the pavement before following Nanami.

The duo entered the building and scanned through each floor up until the roof.

“Hey, isn't the building supposed to be crawling with curses? Cause there wasn’t any on my way here,”

“Something’s not right,” Nanami thought for a moment, “Ino, did you bump into anyone on your floors?”

“Nope. They emailed the president to make sure that the building was empty,”

“Are you sure?”

“You wanna double check with me?”

Nanami and Ino make their way back down, this time examining every single room and closed door. There was no trace of residuals either. Usually there would be a few fly heads here and there, but it was spotless—a complete ghost town. Nothing?

“NANAMI!”

Without hesitation, Nanami sprinted to where Ino shouted. When he flung the door open, Ino was being engulfed by a large curse, similar to that of a human centipede. This must be the one that ate all the other curses.

“Ino! Hold still!”

Just as Nanami aimed his technique, you absorbed the curse from behind, freeing Ino and pushing him out of the way. Resulting in you being hit by Nanami’s cursed energy across your upper body. They quickly rushed to your side,

“We have to get her to a hospital!” Ino panics as he puts pressure on your wound. You were out cold and unresponsive, but you still had a faint pulse. Nanami immediately takes off his blazer and bundles it up, applying it to your wound.

“It’ll be too late when she reaches the hospital,” he closes his eyes to think for a quick moment. Shit! “Tell Gojo to get Ieiri here!” he tosses his phone to Ino, already dialing Gojo’s phone. Please, don’t die. Your pulse started to fade and your body went cold. Please . . .

Before Gojo was able to answer, your eyes flutter open and you look around to see Nanami and Ino hovering over you in shock.

“Huh? Who are you people?” you slowly get up and notice your ripped top covered in blood, “eh? EH?!”

You patted yourself in a panic. You’ve seen blood before in movies, but never this much blood in real life. There was no sense of pain and the gash was gone, leaving no scar behind. Nanami swings his blazer over you,

“You stained it, but it’s better than nothing,”

“Stained? I stained it?” his blazer was soaked in blood. “Wait, this is my blood?!”

“Um, yeah, . . . you kinda died,” Ino responded from behind him.

“Hellllloooooooo! I picked up, you should be grateful!” Gojo’s voice shouts from the phone.

Nanami takes his phone back from Ino and hangs up.

“Can you stand?” he averts his eyes back to you.

“Um,” you look down and wiggle your toes to see if your legs were injured before standing. No sign of pain, but they were trembling so you kneeled instead.

“What are you doing here? ‘Cause I doubt you work here.”

Feeling caught, you frantically try to make up a quick excuse.

“. . . revenge,” there wasn’t an excuse good enough to hide what you were doing, so you told the truth. The whole truth: from when you first saw the fly head to how you ended up at the company on personal terms.

“You know, you have talent for someone who’s not familiar with curses. Your body unconsciously healed itself,” Ino pointed out. He was comfortablely laying on his stomach, his hands propping his head up and his legs sprawled out on the floor. Nanami was intently listening to you, leaning against the wall.

“Is anyone else in your family able to do that?” Nanami asked.

“No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve always lived with my grandparents, so I don’t know much about my birth parents,”

Cursed spirits were an everyday thing to you. For as long as you could remember you’ve always been able to see them, it was only until you pointed one out to your grandmother that not everyone could see them. As for your supposed talent, you only learned that you were able to absorb curses a couple years ago. You paid no mind to it, but now that you’ve met Ino and Nanami it’s different now, and confusing.

Ino talked to you about their Jujutsu world. The meaning of curses, cursed techniques, cursed energy, him, Nanami, Gojo, the higher ups, the students, the school, and more. Nanami stood there in silence, listening to your conversation between you and Ino, only interacting when prompted.

“HEY!” a shout echoed through the building, startling the three of you.

“What the—”

“Ino, get her out of here.”

“But isn’t that just Gojo?”

“Leave. Gojo can’t know about you.”

Nanami quickly helped you and Ino up, pushing you through the door before closing them.

“Hey! Who said you could hang up on me like that!” you can hear Gojo through the doors.

“You came here ‘cause I hung up on you?” Nanami asked, not hiding his annoyance.

Ino holds his finger up to his lips, telling you to keep silent as the two of you quietly walk out the building, the sound of Gojo and Nanami’s bickering fading away.

“Man, we’re finally out,” Ino sighs.

“Oh, I still have Nanami’s blazer,” you start to take it off, but Ino stops you.

“It’s fine. Keep it as an excuse for you to see him again. Here,” he pulls his phone out, “if you’re comfortable, I can type out our infos in your phone.”

Without thinking much about it, you hand him your phone. He adds both their contact info before waving his goodbyes and heading back into the building. The whole night felt like a fever dream, but the feeling of Nanami’s blazer around you reassured you that what happened that night was real and that you’ll live to see another day.

“NA~NA~MIN~CHAN~!” Gojou shouts from the door of the lounge. Tch. Nanami sighs from his seat, casually reading the business and stock section of the newspaper.

“What are you doing on your day off? Cause if you—,”

“Nothing.”

“Boo, why don’t—,”

“No.”

“I didn’t even finish what I was saying yet!”

“Declined.”

“. . .” Gojo stares at him in silence before punching his middle finger through Nanami’s newspaper. For fuck sakes. At this point, Nanami’s patience has run out and he rips the newspaper in half, exposing the rest of Gojo’s arm. He kept up with Gojo’s antics for far too long, that even Gojo was surprised he lost his composure.

A series of bickering and material noises can be heard coming from the lounge. As Yaga was about to open the door to see what all the yelling was about, Gojo ran into him, trying to escape from Nanami’s beating.

“Principal Yaga! Perfect timing ‘cause I think you should reconsider my proposal to put that man on a leash!” Gojo points to an exhausted Nanami in overtime mode.

“. . . Get off of me,” instinctively, Yaga had his arms out when Gojo comfortably jumped into them.

“Principal Yaga, apologizes. I’ll clean up right away,” Nanami collected himself and bowed.

“Don’t bother. Satoru will clean this mess,”

“HUH?!”

In the end, Yaga had produced several cursed corpses to monitor Gojo so that he finishes cleaning up and repairing the damages.

“It’s my first time hearing you book a day off. Never took you as someone who lets themselves rest,”

“Working alongside Gojo has made me rethink my decisions,” Nanami doesn’t know why, but ever since he helped you that day Gojo’s been especially clingy to him. Like a little sibling asking to be babied and given attention 24/7, it was annoying and drained his energy every day. Did he find out? The reason Nanami had been keeping you a secret from Gojo and everyone else (except for Ino) was to keep you free from their restrictions and expectations. Knowing Gojo, he would immediately use you against the higher ups, so Nanami chose to stay quiet about you. Keeping you as far away from their world as possible, but conversing with you regularly wasn’t helping nor making it easier for him. He should’ve cut all ties with you the moment you messaged him about his blazer, trying to return it. He had more than enough money to easily replace it, but . . . in all honesty, he just wanted to see you again. Don’t bring personal feelings into work, don’t bring personal feelings into work, don’t bring personal feelings into work, he repeated to himself over and over again.

It’s been a little over a year since you first met, but even if that was enough time for you to move on he still felt guilty falling for you. To Nanami, it felt wrong liking someone who had just lost a loved one, but overtime the temptation of taking a step forward kept growing on him. Suddenly, the vibration of his phone goes off. Ino?

“Hello?”

“Nanami! She won’t wake up, the idiot went and took care of a grade 1,” Ino panicked.

Tch.

“I thought I told you to keep the area free of curses,”

“I did. I don’t know where this one came from, though,”

“I’m on my way,” Nanami hangs up and excuses himself for the day.

Please be okay.

The sound of quick shuffling and frantic mumblings start to get louder as you come closer to waking up. Someone’s here? Nanami? You open your eyes and look around to see Ino pacing back and forth beside you,

“Ino? What are you doing—?” a flood of memories rush back to you: your unfinished errands, the ingredients, the bridge, the curse, collapsing, an unfamiliar figure. Could that be . . . “Hey, how’d you know where I was?”

“Hm? Oh, your neighbour called me and told me that you collapsed at the bridge. He said that he helped carry you home, but to come check up on you just in case,”

You think back to your neighbours, but no one comes to mind who’d be willing to help you. The neighbours you’re surrounded by are the types to call an ambulance, if they ever came across a situation like that. You don’t even converse with them much, since Nanami wanted your interactions to be kept to a minimum. So over protective. As you get up from your couch a wave of dizziness falls over you, making it hard for you to stand.

“Are you okay?” Ino rushes to assist you and settles you back down on the couch.

“Yeah, just a head rush,”

“I’ll go get you some water,” he runs to the kitchen (not that it’s far).

Ino was like a little brother to you and Nanami, he always kept an eye on you because in his words “if something bad were to happen to you, I just know Nanami would break inside”. You look down at your hands, still trembling from the curse you dealt with earlier, but feeling nothing out of the ordinary. The first time you absorbed a curse that strong was when you first met Ino and Nanami, but there were no signs of repercussions. The amount of energy that cursed spirit held was reversed to heal your wound and bring you back to life. You hear the front door being opened and see Nanami rush into the room, he sighs a breath of relief upon seeing you.

“Welcome back,” Ino says from the kitchen.

You try to welcome him too, but you were scared he was going to lecture you about safety and all that, so you kept quiet. Even though you’re avoiding his eyes, you can still feel them boring into you. He walks over and lowers himself at your eye level, taking your trembling hands into his.

“. . . I was about to lecture you, again, but I’m happy enough to see you alive,”

You finally look up to meet his eyes. Although he’s holding a stern face now, you can tell that he was just worried. Is he still hung up about that accident?

“I’m fine, you know it’s not like last time,” you softly reassure him.

“I know . . . I was still worried, though,” his thumbs brush over your hands.

Ino comes from around the corner with a glass of water, taking a seat beside you on the couch. After both of you fill Nanami in about what happened to you, Ino says his goodbyes, leaving just the two of you alone.

“Man, must be nice coming home to a girl after a long day at work. Good for Nanami,” he says to himself, whistling out the door. He deserves it.

All of a sudden, something latches tightly over his mouth and throat, dragging him into an empty ally. Ino manages to loosen himself out of the grip and turns to see,

“Gojo?!”

“Ya-ho!”

Gojo waves his hand with a stupid grin plastered across his (pretty) face. After finishing (cheating) his duties at the lounge room, he changed out of his usual uniform and made his way back here. His all black outfit consisting of sunglasses, a loose tee, jeans, and oxfords.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I didn’t know you were the one that’d come check up on her, what a surprise.”

“Wait, how’d you—!” the call flashed in Ino’s mind. “You were the neighbour that called me?”

“Ding, ding, ding!”

Nanami’s already stressed enough. How long has he known?

“If you’re thinking about how long I’ve known, then it’d be ever since the day he hung up on me when you guys were at that black company mission.”

How immature. “Then were you also the one that set up the grade 1 curse?”

“I mean, duh.”

Ugh, crazy. “Just so you know I plead the fifth,”

“Is that an American joke you learned from her? Anyways,” Gojo crosses his fingers and pulls his sunglasses down. “Domain expansion: Unlimited Void.”

“Nanami, wait,” you pull away from him for a moment to catch your breath, but he pulls you back in for a deeper kiss.

Once Ino left and the door clicked closed, Nanami threw himself at you in a heated flash. At first, it was the feeling of his hands tracing your body and now it’s his soft lips leaving marks along your neck and collarbones. He’s sitting on the edge of the couch while you’re facing him, prettily settled on his hips. You slip out of your top and bra, since it was already half way off from Nanami fondling you underneath your clothes. You can feel his bulge as you teasingly grind your hips. His hand grips your hips,

“Keep doing that and I won’t be able to hold back.”

“Then don’t hold back,” you whisper in his ear before taking his hand and guiding it to the wet spot underneath the slit of your satin skirt. Without wasting his chance, he twists his fingers in you, holding you down on his hips and watching you melt into lewd expressions, burying your face in his chest as your hand clenches his shirt. Only gasps and moans were able to tumble off your wet lips as your body twitches from ecstasy.

“That’s a good girl,” his voice reverberates down the nape of your neck. He loosens his tie to bind your arms behind you, switching your position so that your back is facing him now. Knowing what he’s about to do makes your stomach flutter. You raise your trembling hips a little, feeling him brush the tip of his cock along your slick folds before pushing you down on him.

“Haa!” the force of it sends a shuddering wave through your body.

“You told me not to hold back, so don’t you start complaining now,” Nanami grips your face and turns it slightly towards him, kissing your tears away. The feeling of his rough hands slowly drags down to your throat and tightly grips at the sides. He thrusts into you hard as you beg for him to fill you up inside. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix stroking every inch deeper into you.

“Fuck,” he groans. A warm feeling fills you up in your lower abdomen and gushes out onto the couch. You and Nanami fall back, panting to catch your breaths.

“Are you okay? I hope that wa—,” you shut him up with a kiss. Slowly lifting your hips back up, you feel his cum dripping down your thighs. You slip his cock back inside you, his hands embracing you once again as he gets bigger. Unable to focus, you fall into a drunken daze getting lost in his pleasure.

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ayuuria · 4 years ago

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Yashahime Translation: Animedia Magazine March 2021 Issue

Please do not repost this translation without my consent! This includes screenshots of any type and amount. If you wish to share this translation, simply link to this post.

For more information regarding the use of my translations, click here.

Tis the Season of Love ♪,

Get That Person’s Heart! (let’s get it)

The flower blooming Spring is the season of (new) meetings. Look around for an instant and before you know it, the distance between “that person” and “that person” has gotten smaller. Will love be born from there? Picking up the relationship that people are curious about.

Even though they’re at the height of adolescence, the three Yashahimes slay demons all the time. Within that, recently there’s a gentleman that has quickly approached Towa. His name is Riku. He seems to be known among demons and is a suspicious unidentifiable person, but his manners are exceptional in any case! Whether it’s because Towa let’s her guard down at his friendly attitude, they seem to enjoy their conversations whenever they meet. It seems Riku has a motive but putting that aside, it appears that he’s taken a liking to Towa herself. While still not knowing whether he’s a friend or enemy, at some point, a relationship that’s not quite love (?) has sprouted between them. This time, we had Matsumoto Sara, the voice actress for Towa, talk about Riku and, going with the theme of Spring, had her choose flower images for the Yashahimes and Riku based on “Flower Language”.

The handsome young man with an ulterior motive, Riku

Self-proclaimed “pirate come ashore”. A young man of many mysteries who covets the rainbow pearls the three Yashahimes possess. He also knows a lot about the circumstances surrounding the birth of Towa and the others.

The honest girl who is still inexperienced in love, Towa

Sesshōmaru’s daughter and Setsuna’s elder twin sister. She treasures Setsuna, who was raised separately from her, more than anyone else. On the night of the new moon, she loses her demonic powers and her hair turns black.

Setsuna

Towa’s younger twin sister. Due to having her sleep stolen by the Dream Butterfly, she is unable to sleep. While she does not have any memories of her early childhood, she has gradually become able to let her guard down around Towa.

Spring Breeze Interview, The Voice Actress for Higurashi Towa: Matsumoto Sara

Moroha

Inuyasha and Kagome’s daughter. Separated from her parents soon after being born, she was raised by the wolf demon tribe. When she puts rouge on her lips, she becomes “Beniyasha, the Destroyer of Lands” and goes on a rampage.

— With the development thus far, which episode left a big impression on you?

What left the biggest impression on me was episode 14 which was the episode that showed the truth behind the forest fire that separated Towa and Setsuna. I always to keep an objective point of view while acting but at that time, I was truly angry from the bottom of my heart. Whether for better or for worse, Towa’s emotions came into me.

Also, the depiction of Towa and Setsuna when they were born in episode 15 left an impression on me as well. Since it’s Sesshōmaru, I thought he would be rough with the babies but surprisingly, he firmly and carefully held them, so I was relieved (laughs).

— Being Towa’s father, what do you think of Sesshōmaru’s actions?

Without really saying too much, even though there are not enough words, I end up just suddenly saying what I’m really curious about. However, I think Sesshōmaru himself acts on his intentions while not caring about what others around him think. I also didn’t know what the future development was, so as the role of the daughter I thought “Please give more hints”.

— How did you feel seeing the figure of Towa fighting up to this point?

When Towa’s life completely changed by jumping from the modern era to the feudal era, I worried if Towa would be able to cope but I was surprised at how adaptable she was. There’s the fact that she’s still in puberty so her sensitivity is like a sponge, or rather her ability to absorb things is amazing, I think. Also, having Setsuna nearby is big. There may be times where she’s uneasy but her strong sense of duty and justice to “protect Setsuna” is what I feel drives her. She’s the type to immediately take action if there’s something she has to do, so I think her current environment is a good fit.

— Alright then, what are some highlights going forward?

There’s an episode where you will learn Setsuna’s childhood and how she lived after she was separated from Towa. In episode 13, it talked about how Monk Miroku sealed Setsuna’s demonic powers, so this flashback episode of the past will connect to that. After episode 20, the fragments scattered throughout the story thus far will gradually come together as one, so there’s a lot of information packed in that you can’t miss. I think viewers have been in suspense following the mystery (of the story) so please look forward to the final stage of the development.

Will the Scheming Man’s Approach Work on the Dense Princess!?

Towa & Riku Affinity Investigation

I’m weak against boys like Riku, so if someone continuously came to me saying “I’m interested in you”, it would make my heart beat fast (laughs). Riku moves understanding that mentality and I think he’s good at setting up the mood when approaching Towa. I think right now based on where he stands, he makes spur of the moment decisions on how to act. He’s mysterious but he smiles periodically and even though he’s vague, he has a maternal appeal… He’s a very charming and sly character (Matsumoto)

By the way! If Riku were in the modern era, what sort of occupation would he be suitable for?

He’s a sweet talker, so the first thing that comes to mind is a swindler (laughs). There was a scene where he showed a magic technique so I think work in the entertainment field would also fit Riku. He also seems suitable to be an actor. He’s got natural talent and can turn into any person. Then conversely, I think strict jobs would also suit him. If he were a schoolteacher, I have a feeling he would be popular with the students. (Matsumoto)

The Part of Riku that Makes One Swoon: He completely reeks of danger.

Riku’s mysteriousness is appealing. He also met Kagome before she gave birth to Moroha, but he looked the same as he does now.

The Part of Towa that Makes One Swoon: She tries her hardest and is pure cuteness!

Losing her demonic powers on the “Night of the New Moon”, Towa becomes worried about Setsuna. Different from usual, she shows the weak side of a regular girl.

Try! Heart Pounding Flower & Date Plan

What flower comes to mind for Towa, Setsuna, Moroha, and Riku?

Setsuna is the Evening Primrose

Setsuna is an evening primrose which in flower language means “Silent Affection”. The evening primrose goes unnoticed and quietly blooms at night. Having her sleep stolen by the Dream Butterfly, I think it overlaps with the figure of Setsuna being the only one awake after everyone else has fallen asleep for the night. (Matsumoto)

Towa is the Lily

Towa is a lily which in flower language means “Pure”. While watching reality change before her eyes, I think the word “pure” fits Towa perfectly as she acts with a pure sense of justice and duty. That sense of not being tainted by anything is also like a lily. (Matsumoto)

Moroha is the Statice

Moroha is a statice which in flower language means “Endless Memories”. Born as Inuyasha and Kagome’s child, I think Moroha’s existence is blessed. The things Moroha inherited from her parents are within her as “endless memories”. That’s what I imagined. (Matsumoto)

Riku is the Anemone

Riku is a purple anemone which in flower language means “I will believe in you as I wait”. Riku will affectionately call Zero “Elder Sister” (translators: I believe the context is the same word that maiko (apprentice Geisha) use to address their superiors (full-fledged Geishas)) and he seems to have strong feelings for Kirinmaru in his own way, so I matched (the flower) to that image. (Matsumoto)

If you were to gift Towa, Setsuna, Moroha, and Riku flowers?

I think a small bouquet would suit Towa and Riku and they would genuinely be delighted. I think Towa would give you a wink as a thank you. I want to give Setsuna a large bouquet. She would probably turn her face away slightly, embarrassed. Instead of a bouquet for Moroha, I want to take her to a flower field myself. I think she would enjoy the scenery while saying “This won’t make any money.” (Matsumoto)

If you were to take Towa, Setsuna, and Moroha out in the Spring?

My impression is that the warm spring weather would suit the three of them. If in the feudal era, I think they would enjoy cherry blossom viewing. Ideally, it would be great if their parents were there with them too. If in the modern era, I’d have to say I want them to do some kind of team activity. I want to see something like Towa dressing up Setsuna, going shopping together, and eating delicious food. (Matsumoto)

I want their (the three Yashahimes) hearts to become closer while loving the cherry blossoms!

Illustration Description

Whether it was to let Towa know that there was a butterfly on her shoulder, Riku amiably calls out to her. It feels as though Towa’s encounter with Riku wasn’t all bad?

#hanyou no yashahime #yashahime: princess half-demon #translation #Yashahime

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megan-is-mia · 4 years ago

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So I spent the past few minutes procrastinating through your prompt list instead of doing assignments but can i also request 10. Monster yander prompt for fox jamil spicyness. Cept can you change thought i was human to thought i was a fox?

(Do your homework or there’ll be no yan smut for you! XD Anyways of course you can make more requests, I don't put limits on my inbox for a reason after all) 10. “You weren’t afraid of me when you thought I was a fox, so why are you so afraid of me now?” (Yandere! Jamil Viper x Fem! S/o) (WARNING NSFW AND NON-CON AHEAD) The air was bitterly cold that day as (Y/n) walked home from work. As she walked the sound of weak whimpering hit her ear and drew her attention to the side of the road. There, half-hidden was a fox shivering so hard its entire body was vibrating with the effort of trying to remain warm. (Y/n) knew she should just keep walking and let nature take its course but her tender heart got the better of her. Making a detour she ventured over to the creature as it continued to tremble from the cold.

Unlooping the scarf she wore from around her neck, (Y/n) carefully wrapped the fox in it and held it against her chest as she continued the walk home. The creature snuggled against her body eagerly absorbing the heat that radiated from her body as she carried it with her. As she entered her humble apartment, she turned up the heat and set the fox near the radiator where it would be warmest. The creature made no effort to struggle as it remained curled up in (Y/n)’s scarf and shivering only a little now. (Y/n) was cautious in approaching the fox now that it had warmed up from the heat of her apartment extending her hands in a gesture she hoped would be interpreted as non-threatening. The fox didn't share her hesitation, however, stumbling out of where it had been lying in the scarf to sniff at her fingers before licking them. Hesitantly the young woman brought her other hand down to pet the creature’s head which it readily accepted. When she moved away from the fox in order to go to the kitchen it whined softly before staring at her. “I’m just going to the kitchen, I’m going to see if I have anything to feed you little buddy” (Y/n) said hoping that at least the tone of her words would be understood by the fox even if the actual words did not. Reluctantly the fox went back to lay on the scarf but watched her move around the kitchen with alert eyes and reminded her of its presence every so often with a squeal. “Yes, yes I know. I’m working as fast as I can to get you food silly fox” (Y/n) said absent-mindedly before finally bringing some cooked meat over for the little creature. “Here you go little buddy, I know it isn't your usual fare but I couldn't exactly catch wild rabbit on such short notice so steak will have to do” (Y/n) said apologetically as the fox dug into the offering she’d provided for it. After the creature had finished it trotted over to the scarf and dragged it over to the young woman before setting it on her lap and then settling itself back into the scarf on her lap. “Wow, didn't expect you to be a little cuddlebug” (Y/n) said softly scratching the little fox’s head as it made itself comfortable. “You know I should probably stop referring to you as an it… sorry little buddy I’m gonna make you a bit uncomfortable with this but…” as soon as (Y/n) said these words the fox abruptly flipped on its back and pat its tummy as if it had understood was about to happen and was making the situation easier by cooperating. Letting her eyes dart down for a moment, (Y/n) received her answer: she had a boy fox on her hands. She forced her eyes away from the creature’s genitals with an awkward cough. “So I’ve got a little todd on my hands then… Alright okay” (Y/n) said resuming her petting of the creature. The fox licked her finger affectionately as he let out a little contented yip. Eventually, the young woman felt her eyelids starting to droop and she gently lifted the fox off her lap despite his protests about being removed from his spot. “Sorry little buddy, but I’m feeling a bit sleepy. I should make sure I get in bed before I fall asleep on the floor again and wake up feeling all sore” (Y/n) apologized as she stumbled towards bed. Flopping down on the mattress she was soon joined by her little fox companion who curled up on the pillow next to her head. Petting the fox’s head some more she slowly drifted off to sleep. When (Y/n) woke up the next morning she found that the little fox had made himself cozy on her chest under the covers and was still snoozing peacefully at the moment. Carefully she moved him to a pillow and covered him again before getting up to get ready for the day. It wasn't long before the fox joined her in the kitchen, yipping and weaving around (Y/n)’s feet. (Y/n) fell into a new rhythm of life with her unexpected pet and she was happy, mostly happy that is. Ever since the little fox had become a part of her life, her love life had been non-existent. The fox scared off all the men she tried to bring home and eventually she just gave up trying altogether. “Guess I’ll die an old and lonely spinster little buddy” (Y/n) lamented with a sad sigh one night as she got ready for bed. The fox licked her hand comfortingly as he took his position on her pillow. The young woman slipped under the covers and was soon deep in sleep. That was until a sudden weight on her chest caused her to have quite a rude and unexpected awakening. In her bed, laying on top of her was a naked man! She opened her mouth to shriek only to have the stranger slap a clawed hand over her mouth. ‘Hush (Y/n), you wouldn't want to wake up the neighbors would you?” the strange man said in a gravelly tone as he stared down at her. He continued to stare at (Y/n) until she finally and very reluctantly shook her head which prompted him to remove his hand. “Who are you, why are you in my bed?” (Y/n) said in a hiss as her gaze darted about and she became aware that she could not locate the little fox. “Where’s my little buddy? You better have not hurt him or I’ll kill you!” she spat keeping her voice down as the stranger’s face broke into a wide grin at her. “Don’t you recognize your little buddy anymore?” the stranger said, making (Y/n) realize that the fox ears on his head were real and so was the tail no tails that brushed against her leg under the covers. “It can't be…” (Y/n) trailed off staring bug-eyed at the young man who claimed to be her fox friend. “It can be and it is dear (Y/n), of course, we haven’t been properly introduced since I was in no condition to speak human tongues while I was recovering in your care. Let me amend my lack of courtesy now. My name is Jamil, Jamil Viper and I am your personal kitsune familiar” the young man said with a twinkle in his eyes. (Y/n) stared at him dumbly, not able to take in the information that was being given to her. “But my bed… why…” (Y/n) said becoming hyper-aware of how Jamil’s body was giving off heat that was being absorbed by her own. She was also very aware of how she was almost totally indecent under the covers with only a pair of panties keeping her from being totally exposed. Awkwardly she tried to pull herself up into a sitting position so she could put some distance between herself and the kitsune. Of course, that was a useless endeavor as Jamil forced her to remain flat against the mattress. “Where do you think you’re going (Y/n)? I get the distinct feeling that you’re trying to get away from me for some reason” Jamil said with a soft coo. “You weren’t afraid of me when you thought I was a fox, so why are you so afraid of me now?” the kitsune said, his ears twitching slightly as he tilted his head. “I’m the same as I’ve ever been so why the sudden tension?” he questioned dripping his head down to lick at (Y/n)’s neck and send a shiver through her body at the contact. “Are you cold ya hayati? Let me warm you up then” Jamil said, his tails brushing against (Y/n)’s thighs again as his hands began to wander across her skin. His hand squeezed at her bare breasts roughly drawing soft gasps from her lips that he devoured greedily as he pressed his tails against the front of the young woman’s panties and grazing her clit through the fabric. He continued to do this until a wet spot formed on the area he had been teasing. He dropped a hand from her breasts in order to rip her panties off so he could finger her. Jamil’s finger was soon joined by two others as he began to open up (Y/n)’s insides. He wasn’t sure of how else to get his point across about how much he adored her. So he followed his instincts and made her body ready for his, ignoring the soft pleading that left her lips as he lined himself up with her hole and thrust into her with a sharp growl. The kitsune fucked his love hungrily hoping that she would be able to understand the depth of his love for her through the intimate act. When he came he did not pull out. As the couple drifted down from their highs Jalim forced (Y/n) to roll onto her side so he could more easily cuddle her. The kitsune held her close, using the fluff of his tails to keep his darling warm as they snuggled under the covers. The young woman felt tears forming in the corner of her eyes as the weight of what had just happened to her began to sink in. Why had her act of kindness come to bite her in the butt like this? She cried herself to sleep in the arms of her companion turned forced lover… THE END

#Yandere Twisted Wonderland #Twisted Wonderland #Yandere Jamil Viper #Jamil Viper

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wisteria-lodge · 4 years ago

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lion primary + badger secondary (bird model)

ie A HOUSE MATCH !!

Hellooo, I’m sorry for bothering you but I’ve found this blog and I absolutely love your character analysis and overall thought about the SHC system, and I could use some help?

I’ve known the system for a while now, since the old SHC tumblr times, and while understanding my current primary situation has been quite easy, I’m having A LOT of trouble with my secondary and it’s becoming a bit of a issue for me because the more I think about it, the more confused I become, to the point where it’s upsetting me a bit.

First thing first, my Primary is a very “standard” Lion, the whole “you feel if something is right or not and if you do something that’s not right to you you feel bad/ill/it’s wrong” is extremely me. I had some doubts about a Badger model, but I think it’s just that my personal ideals and values align a lot with a Badger worldview, since I grew in a very Badger society and family (very leftist, a lot of emphasis on equality and valuing and creating communities). Reading various description/interpretations of primary Lion always feels right, while reading primary Badger always makes me think “yeah, this is all good and nice, BUT…” so this was quite easy to sort out (no pun intended).

Are you me? So far... I could have written this. It’s possible I *might* be biased going forward.

When it comes to secondaries, I see a lot of myself in Bird descriptions: I make spreadsheets for everything.

Pretty Bird.

I am a crafter with an apparently endless supply of books and tutorials and supplies ready, and the enthusiasm to share them.

That sounds more Badger.

I am the mom friend

Badger.

who always has what’s needed in their bag.

Bird.

I am that one person you can count on knowing a funny or interesting anecdote about almost any topic, from the mundane to the truly obscure. Learning new things, about any topic, is literally one of my biggest pleasures in life.

Bird [model?] Whichever one isn’t your secondary is a model you clearly love.

I take pride in all these things, but I honestly have trouble understanding if I like using them as tools because they help me with my ADHD and so I received a very strong positive enforcement using them and I kept the ones I like, or if I started doing them because they are what I like doing and coincidentally they help me managing my symptoms or better navigate the world in my day to day life.

Could be either, but modeling Bird because you’re neurodivergent is very much a thing.

Also, while I love planning, when it comes to making decisions I tend to gather all information and summarize it in a way that makes sense to me so I can visualize the issue in my mind as complete and detailed as possible, but the final decision tends to feel a bit… impulsive, to me?, there’s always A LOT of gut feeling involved, and when I don’t follow it usually it ends up being a wrong or subpar decision. I do need to gather all the available information about the issue/situation/item/people, but rather than making my decision by comparison, I use the information to make sure that I’m “seeing” the truth (or as close to it as it is possible) and then once I feel safe that I’m not overlooking anything important I just KNOW what is the correct decision.

That’s a Lion primary making a call.

Could this simply be a very strong primary interfering with the decision-making, even when it’s not about ideals but more mundane things?

Decision making is always a primary thing. Mundane stuff included. Mundane stuff is important.

On the other hand, I am an extremely hard working person (I am changing jobs right now because I feel like my old bosses are making more and more difficult for me to just do my job properly and without needing to cut corners, and it just feels wrong to me).

Oh good lord. I am ready to sort you as a Badger secondary solely on the basis of THAT.

People tell me I’m a very good listener and that I am especially good at helping others unravel their thoughts when they’re all confused and tangled because I ask the right questions. I seem to gain other people’s trust easily and often I get told gossip or secrets before others.

Badger. Also DAMN but that’s relatable. I think you might house-match me.

I got told several times by previous bosses that I should look into becoming a team leader because people like me and I make them get along better.

Sounds like a Lion/Badger combo.

People get attached to me very quickly and when I have problems the stream of folks asking if they can help or just checking in is always way more than I expect.

Isn’t it weird how that happens?

This all sounds like Badger stuff, from the descriptions I read, but many of them are not things I actively enjoy doing, I just.. do them because it would be weird to do otherwise? Or it feels like they happen to me with no effort on my part.

Because they’re just you. It’s just who you are.

I think they might be simply a result of me growing up in a society that values hard work and being kind to others, or just me being a likeable person

Not everyone finds this easy. Not even close. I have read so many testimonials written by people in Badger secondary households killing themselves trying to fit into this model. Wanting isn’t enough. Having examples around you isn’t enough.

or maybe coping mechanisms I had to learn in order to “pass” as neurotypical but as I wrote the more think and read about Birds and Badgers and their differences, the more I get confused and frustrated.

Now I know I’m projecting, but all my neurotypical coping mechanisms come out of the Bird secondary toolbox.

But it would make sense since I burned out badly in my teens from trying to always try to be perfect for my family, my friends, my teachers, society

That sounds like a young Badger secondary, more than a young Bird secondary.

and when I finally found who I really wanted to be I resolved to never let anyone define what or how I should be ever again (hello there, Lion primary!)

I hear that.

After a lifetime of beating myself up for not living up to the absurdly high expectations I set up for myself, I have decided that the only way to stay sane for me is to do the groundwork, be as prepared as I can

Bird

put in the work I should

Badger

but once I’m in the thick of it just… ride the wave. And now I got to the point where I have the confidence that I am smart enough to learn the basics of a new skill on the fly, if needed.

To me, this is so fundamentally, so spiritually Badger secondary. You don’t have tools. You are a tool. You made yourself into one. And that moment where you can just trust yourself to catch the world, absorb it into yourself, and become whatever it needs you to be... it’s ecstasy.

I’d say that lack of time is my worst enemy, but due/thanks to the ADHD that’s not true most of the time, since lack of time is what enables me to get past the executive dysfunction in the first place, so I’ll say I have a love-hate relationship with it. Doing things just before a deadline is it’s own kind of high, after all (I’m not saying it’s healthy).

At the base of your soul, you’re not really a Bird prepper/planner.

A practical example: I usually don’t like platforming games much, but I am LOVING Immortals: Fenyx Rising because in most situations, there is a “best” way to do things but you can also get creative by using different skills, using specific items, finding loopholes, or a combination of all of them.

Sounds like a Bird secondary having fun. [a fun model?]

When I fail a level/combat I don’t get frustrated because I know that I just have to try a few more times until I find the solution that feels right FOR ME, even if it’s not the most efficient ones. And when I do it feels great, even if I look a at guide afterwards and there’s a waaay easier solution! I usually feel a bit silly for not “seeing it” but also think something like “well, I think MY way is more fun!”

Oh yeah, a Bird secondary would not have that reaction. That is the sacred Badger consistency of method. How you do something matters equally as much as the final product.

When I cook, I usually find a recipe I like and try it as written, then I make small adjustments to improve it, see how it turns out, and so on until I have a recipe that is MY recipe, one I really like and that I know well enough to use as a basis to be changed if needed, knowing exactly how the change will affect the end result. I think this is why I prefer baking to other kinds of cooking, since it’s much more akin to chemistry I feel like I have more control over what a change will do.

On it’s own this could be a description of rapid-fire Bird. And you clearly have Bird, you have a lot of it. You love it.

So I guess that what really matters to me is being able to do things my way so that I can enjoy the process and live up to my standards instead of external ones?

But then you say something like this... it’s about the process... it’s about the method... it’s about something coming up to your own personal standards. And that’s so Badger.

This ended up being very lengthy… I’ve tried shortening it but English isn’t my first language and I was afraid I might come across not clearly.

Your English is perfect, and insanely clear. You’re clearer than I am.

Thank you again for the blog, I especially like your DS9 characters’ analysis and I am low-key hoping for more :)

I’m particularly proud of those ones. I’d love to do more, but before that I would have to go back and re-watch the show, or at least key character episodes. I’m not going to sort from memory. That would be doing a show I love, and a number of extremely complex characters a disservice. And it wouldn’t be nearly as fun.

(it’s that whole Badger integrity-of-method thing, you know how it goes.)

#sortinghatchats #sortme #wisteria sorts #lion primary #badger secondary #bird model #my lion badger #adhd #submission

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