#big big galaxy brain feelings about him

[mythvoiced]

-. here's the issue sometimes i get muse ideas where i don't know where they came from but get this awkward dreadful feeling i might have just literally seen a moot write 'em, so if you see me come up with a muse too similar to yours SHOOT ME PLS ty ♥

so, single father can't connect to daughter bc he has to juggle being a single father, having a regular day job, and a more risky night job where i'm thinking he's one of those organized crime "freelance" medics? (every time i think underground criminal tie doctor i instantly think of that guy from drrr!! which BTW does... do people still consider drrr!! a classic, i--)

a whole lot of conversations of 'mom never forgot [insert]!' or 'mom would always [insert]!' because she used to live with her mother but her mother passed tragically somehow, and now this sad guy has to (unfortunately for her) step in; former regular doctor but fell out of grace after losing a patient maybe and his shit about it, maybe he got blamed for the death of someone very important, so he's now just a regular barista somewhere EXCEPT you don't need a medical license if you're patching up criminals, you just need the skills, so guess what he got dragged in to!!!

his daughter is, like... 13 which is ofc the perfect age for such a sudden life-altering event to impact you at (sarcasm ofc), so yeah, FUN STUFF! he's, like, in his early 30s somewhere, so obviously they had her very young (listen, if you have kids at 20 that's... that's young to me, i'm turning 25 in two months and i've only recently began to let 'i'm an adult' set in properly, idk) which might have been part of the reason behind splitting in the first place, because they did split very early on, most likely high-school sweethearts who thought they'd had it all figured out except lmao

[hauntingblue]

Rong ring rong raingo time

Zoro making that speech reminds me of ace and how he treated luffy at the start, maybe not because of the same reasons but zoro is calming chopper down bc he KNOWS luffy and the others (and him) would not let him be taken without trying everything they could... there is ko use for crying and zoro is repressed but of course he would not say he cares but he does so of course he tells him to shut up bc he can't handle how chopper makes him feel... Also Foxy taking chopper for being cute and not because he is a doctor and that if they first wanted chopper to join bc he was a doctor he ended up joining bc they really became friends....

Legendary find

Look at these losers... zoro's hair is blending with the grass akdbakjka

Lettuce and cheese... the Burger Brothers

Robin supports nami's wrongs ✊🏻

Chopper being cute again

He is so slow ❤️

Seeing robin become a luffy enabler in real time is such a joy

HE IS THE MAN!!! Robin seeing luffy say that and believing it because she thinks she is expendable.... look how surprised she is... I think it's not just because she's surprised luffy got up but bc she realizes he is including her in his fight... he is also doing this for her

[inkskinned]

most writing advice is good as long as you know why it is good, at which point it is also bad. the hardest thing (and most precious thing) about being an artist is that you gotta learn how to take critique. i don't mean "just shut up and accept that people hate your work," i mean you need to learn what the critique is saying and then figure out if it actually helps.

i usually tell people reading my work: "i'm collecting data, so everything is useful." i ask them where they put the book down, even though it's too long for most people to read in 1 sitting. i ask them what they thought of certain characters. i let them tell me it was really good but i like it more when they look a little stunned and say i forgot i was reading your book, which means they forgot i exist, which is very good news.

sometimes people i didn't ask will read my work and tell me i don't like it. and that is okay, you don't have to like it. but i look at the thing that they don't like and try to figure out if i care. i don't like that you don't capitalize. this one is common, and i have already thought about it. i do not care, it's because of chronic pain and frankly i like the little shape of small letters. you use teeth and ribs in all your work. actually that is very true. i don't know what's up with that. next time i will work to figure out a different word, thank you. you're whiny, go outside. someone said that to me recently and it made me laugh. i am on the whine-about-it website as an internet poet. you are in my native habitat, watching me perform a natural enrichment behavior. but i like the dip of whiny, how the word itself does "whine" (up/down, the sound out your nose on the y), but i don't know if i want to feel whiny. maybe next time i will work on it being melancholy, like what you would call a male writer's poetry.

repeated "good" advice clangs in a bell and doesn't hold a real shape, dilutes in the water. like sometimes you will hear "don't use said." you turn that around in your head and it bounces off the edges of your brain like it is a dvd screensaver. it isn't bad advice, but it feels wrong somehow, like saying easy choices are illegal! sometimes i will only use "said." sometimes i will just kick dialogue tags out to the trash. sometimes i make little love poems where the fact that i do not say "said" is very bad, and makes you feel bad in your body, because someone didn't say something. i am a contrary little shitbird, i guess.

but it is also good advice, actually. it is trying to say that "said" sometimes is clutter. it makes new writers think about the very-small words and very-small choices, because actually your work matters and wordchoice matters. "i know," you said. "i know," you sighed. "i know." we both know but neither of us use a dialogue tag, because we are in a contemporary lit piece.

it is too-small to say don't use said. but it is a big command, so it gets your attention. what are you relying on? what easy choices do you make? when you edit, do you choose the same thing? can you make a different choice? sometimes we need the blankness of said, how it slides into the background. sometimes we don't.

i usually say best advice is to read, but i also mean read books you don't like, because that will make you angry enough to write your own book. i also mean read good books, which will break your heart and remind you that you are a very small person and your voice is a seashell. i also mean you need to eat books because reading a book is a writer's version of studying.

my creative writing teacher in the 7th grade had a big red list of no! words and on it was SUNSET. RAZORS. LOVE. GALAXY. DEATH. BLOOD. PAIN. I liked that razor and love were tucked next to each other like birds, and found it funny that he believed we were too young to know the weight of razor in the context of pain. i hated him and his Grateful Dead belt, where the colored teddy bears held up his appraisal of us. i hated his no list. it is very good/bad advice. i wasn't old enough yet to know that when you are writing about death you are also writing about sunsets and when you write about love you are tucking yourself into a napkin that never stops folding.

back then my poetry was all bloody, dripped with agony when you picked it up. i didn't know there is nothing beautiful about a razor, nothing exciting about pain. i just understood sharpness, which he took to mean i understood nothing. i wrote the razor down and it wasn't easy, but it was necessary. that's what i'm saying - sometimes it's good advice, because it's not always necessary. and sometimes it is very bad advice, because writing about it is lifesaving.

hang on my dog was just having a nightmare. i heard that it is a rule not to write about dogs - in my creative writing mfa, my teacher rolled her eyes and said everyone writes a dead dog. the literature streets are littered in canine bodies. i watched the rise and fall of his ribs (there is that word again) and had to reach out and stop the bad dream. when he woke up he didn't recognize me, and he was afraid.

it is good/bad advice to say that poems and writing have to mean something. it is bad/good advice to say they're big feelings in small packages. it is better advice to say that when my dog saw where he was, he relaxed immediately, rubbed his face against me. someone on instagram would make fun of that moment by writing their "internet poetry" as a sentence that tumbles across a white page: outside it is sunset and my dog is still in a gutter, bleeding a galaxy out of his left paw. or maybe it would be: i woke the dog up/the dog forgot i loved him/and i saw the shape of a senseless/and impossible pain.

the dog is alive in this one, and he is happy. when i tell you i love you, i know what i said. write what you need to write, be gentle to yourself about it. the advice is only as good as far as it helps. the rest is just fencing. take stock of the boundaries, and then break them. there's always somewhere else you could be growing.

i love you, keep going.

[lovebugism]

shy reader you say???

i’m obsessed with eddie and shy reader 🥹🥹maybe like her being afraid to present during class and him pumping her up and mouthing words of encouragement during a presentation at school😭😭sounds stupid but i’d love this

this is a wee bit different but i hope you like it anon :D — eddie helps calm your nerves before a presentation (shy!reader, hurt/comfort, tw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Study hall turns into an impromptu panicking session.

You break down on the rotted park bench outside the football field, surrounded by textbooks and falling leaves. The only thing keeping you halfway tethered to reality is the crisp autumn air filling your burning lungs. Everything smells like rain and very distinctly of Eddie.

He’d been a good enough sport to help you prepare for your history presentation, but he certainly hadn’t signed up to coax you through a nervous breakdown because of it. 

Your boy’s a good enough sport even now, though, sitting beside you at the creaking wooden table — chin on the crown of your head, ringed hand over your heart. 

You tend to dig at your chest whenever your anxiety attacks get real bad. You’re not sure why. Maybe to soothe your palpitating heart or to pull it out entirely.

“What were you trying to do, babe?” Eddie laughed into your hair as you came down from your panic, lightening the grey mood and smoothing a warm palm over your tight chest. “Pull your damn heart out?”

You can breathe halfway normally now. The hurt in your chest has lessened to a very distant one. Now you’re just left with the post-panic shame. You feel like a little kid again, making monsters out of the clothes on your desk chair.

“I don’t know why I got so scared,” you confess, as quiet as the autumn breeze, rubbing your cheek against the soft lapel of Eddie’s leather jacket. “It’s not even that big a deal.”

The boy shrugs, jostling you accidentally. “Well, your brain thinks it’s a big deal. And your brain’s just telling your body that it needs to protect you.”

You don’t know much about your own anxiety and maybe that’s a fault in itself. It’s not the sort of thing you wanna poke with a stick, lest you wake something up that should’ve stayed sleeping. You just ignore it as best you can — let it fester until it explodes into moments like these. 

Normally, Eddie isn’t around for them but you’re grateful he is now. ‘Cause he loves you and because he cares enough to learn all the things about you that you don’t even want to know about yourself.

He didn’t know much about anxiety before you. He just knew that his mom had it when he was real little, and that social anxiety is scared of him and not the other way around. But then he fell in love with you and learned everything he could if it meant he could treat you better.

Now, it’s practically in his nature to be as gentle with the rest of the world as he is with you — which is totally not one brand for him.

“But you don’t need protecting, right? ‘Cause you’re safe.” 

You nod wordlessly. 

Your throat tightens again like you might cry, but it’s not because you’re scared. It’s because you love him so damn much you think you could explode. He fills your chest with sunshine, banishing the swirling shadows completely.

You could probably light up a whole galaxy with how happy he makes you feel. 

How adored. 

How safe.

“And it’s okay to be scared about this stuff, you know?” Eddie continues when you stay silent. His chin grazes your hair when he pulls back to look at you. “Everyone’s scared of something. Like Steve— I’m pretty sure he’s, like, deathly afraid of quicksand.”

He keeps his arm around your back when you lean away from him, keeping you warm when the crisp breeze brushes between you. You sniffle and blink at him with wide, wet eyes. A hint of a smile quirks the edge of your bitten mouth.

“Quicksand?” you repeat incredulously.

Eddie grins back at you, happy to see you smiling again. It’s pink and lopsided and terribly unkissed. “Yeah,” he affirms through a sputtered laugh. “And I’m pretty sure quicksand isn’t even real, so— at least you’re afraid of something that actually exists.”

Your own giggle tumbles suddenly from your mouth. Both because quicksand is obviously real and because Steve is one of the bravest guys you know.

As usual, Eddie’s totally oblivious to how much of a dumbass he is, but he beams anyway. He’s just happy to be a distraction for you when the rest of the world gets too much — a life vest when you’re drowning. 

Your smile ebbs into a quieter one. Your glassy gaze flits to the clammy hands you wring feverishly in your lap. “I just… I know it’s dumb and everything, but— speaking in front of everyone like that— it makes me feel… I don’t know. It makes me feel way more scared than a person should ever be, like… ever.”

“I mean, yeah, it’s scary. But you can handle it,” Eddie shrugs with all his practiced nonchalance. The absentminded confidence he has — that he has in you — makes you feel all warm. “You’re the smartest person I know, and you know this shit like the back of your hand.”

He waves a pale hand to the cluttered picnic table you sit in front of. Flashcards, clumsily written notes, and open textbooks scatter the top of it.

You know all of it forwards and backwards now — so well you could probably do the presentation in your sleep. If only you weren’t so dreadfully frightened of opening your mouth in front of people you don’t know.

Eddie gives you a warm, reassuring squeeze on your arm with one hand. He smoothes a rouge wisp of hair from your forehead with the other. He could see you getting distant again. It’s important to keep you grounded when you get like that — he read that in a magazine once.

“And by the end of the day, it’ll just be you and me and an empty trailer, and you will have much better things to worry about than this,” he continues. A mischievous smirk blossoms on his rosy lips. His chocolate eyes sparkle with it, too. “I’ll have you so damn distracted, you won’t even think about this stupid presentation again.”

You meet his boyish grin with a challenging squint. Smiling despite yourself, you knock your shoulder into his side at his teasing. 

The sentiment is still there, though. Presentations are stupid and fleeting. Eddie’s here and forever.

“Yeah,” you murmur under your breath. “I guess you’re right.”

He scoffs. “Of course I am.”

You shoot him a half-hearted glare that he meets with a more sincere beam. 

“You’re gonna be the bravest scared person the world’s ever seen,” Eddie tells you, more serious now. 

He isn’t telling you not to be scared or distracting you from the fact that you are. He’s affirming your fear, reminding you that you can be brave in the face of it. 

“And you’re gonna show every single one of those losers what a super genius looks like.”

You roll your eyes at that last bit, pretending you’re not as comforted by his presence or the words he says partly in jest as you really are. 

Because he’s right. It’s not about forcing yourself not to be scared. It’s about being scared and doing the shit anyway — being brave and giving a stupid presentation even if your voice trembles and your hands shake.

And god, nothing makes you feel braver than Eddie.

[chosoisamalewife]

Loved the Sukuna post. Now... Hear me out...

Bottom Sukuna..

male reader..

some nsfw and sfw hcs

Bottom!Sukuna x Male reader

A/N : ANON I LOVE YOUR BRAIN (the sfw is just more domestic headcanons, I love making big scary mean men domesticated 😁😁😏😏)

A/N : I might have been listening to flesh by Simon Curtis while cooking up the nsfw part

WARNINGS : OOC!Sukuna / Power bottom!Sukuna / Top!reader / a lot of kinky shit / mentions slapping / choking / knife knife / blood play

This man will not show an ounce of submission in public

However remember when I said he loves for you to trace the marks on him. When he is super relaxed a slight pur can be heard. (I HEAD CANON THAT HE PURRS JUST HEAR ME OUT PLEASE. I BEGGING YOU)

However it's not loud and can only be heard when he speaks but you can feel it. Low rumbles in his chest

If you have any hobbies he would act so uninterested but he is full of shit

He would slyly ask about them and take note of them

Only trusts uraume alone with you

Finds everything you watch fucking stupid and boring. He would literally groan anytime you put something on. Would he sit down and watch with you…….yes but will he complain for a bit…..of course he would

Like I said previously he is a pretty good cook but if you are even better than him he would just watch you cook. There is something captivating about you being focused and concentrated. (He will probably get in the mood for some fun 😏)

NSFW

For him to even consider you topping him would take alot of convincing. "You topping me? Do you view me as some type of weakling" He would laugh loudly in your face

Before you get to chance to top him you have to prove to him that you can take him. That you can handle him.

So that means an all night session with him. He will ruin you all night and if you pass then you will get the glorious victory.

Let's just say he was shocked when you succeeded. He tried everything to make you tap out but nothing seem to work.

POWER!BOTTOM

He wants you to FUCK him.

He wants you to treat him like he does you, well at least try to

"Don't go gently with me now. I'm not weak , I can fucking take it"

When you finally gripped his hips and started to pound into him he would let out a manic laugh. It startled you a little bit but you carried on

"There you go fuck me like a strong man"

When he tops you he mostly groans but when you fuck him for the first time he literally growls and grits his teeth

He can not let your hear how good you are making him feel

But you will feel it

Ooooooh lord God help you because he will leave SCRATCHES on your back, anywhere

He will dig his nails into any part of your skin so please have antibiotic ointment on hand. Love watching the blood trickle from were his nails have been. Will lick your blood

DO NOT TEASE HIM OR TIE HIM UP because if you do that just means hell when he tops you again

When I say treat him like he does you, slap him, fuck his throat, overestimate him, choke him, bite him. Everything be ROUGH

AND I MEAN CHOKE HIM, this psychotic mother fucker would smile while his lungs aren’t getting air

Slap his face, thighs, ass everything. He lives for the stings

The only time he would beg you while bottoming is for you to sit on his face or to cum in his throat

Put a knife to his throat as you pound into him, he would think you are the sexiest thing to ever walk the earth

Maybe even cut him a little bit , collect his blood on your fingers and shove them in his mouth 😏😏

CAN LAST ALL NIGHT, you will probably run out of energy before does so could luck

I want to give him the most coma inducing diabolical earth shaking galaxy destroying supernova creating backshots. 🤸‍♂️🤸‍♂️

[thefrogdalorian]

Downpour

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: Leading a solitary, nomadic existence for much of his life means that Din Djarin has never cuddled up to someone he loves during a rainstorm. Until one night in his cabin on Nevarro, when unseasonably poor weather introduces him to one of life’s simple pleasures.

Word Count: 1k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: One suggestive line, Din having nightmares mentioned ✯ Author's Note: I miss the Razor Crest but daydreaming about domestic fluff in the cabin on Nevarro scratches an itch in my brain in all the best ways. I really want to cuddle with Din Djarin during a rainstorm. Is it too much to ask?! Thanks to @decembermidnight for betaing this one for me!! 🩷

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

The roof of the cabin on Nevarro has never felt like the most sturdy part of the modest-sized dwelling you share with your riduur. Especially not in the middle of an unseasonably fierce rainstorm, the severity of which has you groggily blinking awake in the pitch blackness. 

Your immediate concern is for the mischievous child you tucked in just across the hallway shortly after sunset. You hope that the rain has not disturbed him and that he remains bundled in blankets, surrounded in his crib by the mountain of plushies which have been either bought for him by you and Din or gifted to him by the various people throughout the galaxy who cannot resist how charming he is. 

Mercifully, your sensitive ears do not detect any wails. So, with Grogu seemingly still sleeping soundly, you turn your attention to his father. When you do not hear Din’s soft snores beside you, you vocalise your concern.

“Din, are you awake?” you mumble without turning around to face him.

Din shuffles towards you and wraps his arms around your waist. With a wordless response, he squeezes you tightly. You realise that Din is drawing comfort from your presence. Your heart grows heavy as you realise he must be alarmed by the rainstorm.

“Are you scared of the rain, my big scary Mandalorian?” you question. It is an attempt to lighten the mood, without fussing over him too much. You know how much such playful teasing gets underneath his skin.

“I’m not scared,” Din huffs.

You turn over, raising your eyebrows at him questioningly.

In the darkness, you can barely make out his handsome features. There is a soft light from the hallway, and you can faintly see his brown eyes sparkling slightly, even in the low light.

The lack of light is not an issue. You have mapped every inch of Din's face with your fingers and lips well enough to know that he will be furrowing his brow at you, exposing the wrinkle above the bridge of his nose that you love to gently trace with your fingertips whenever it becomes pronounced in times of stress. 

You reach up to touch the lines of his face, as though you can ease all of his worries with just your touch, “What would all those bounties you once collected think if they could see you now?” you muse.

Din guffaws.

“Imagine if everyone you struck fear into the hearts of with merely your presence could see you now? Maybe they would feel silly for ever being so scared of a man who is scared of a little rainstorm…”

“Riduur…” Din warns, voice deep and firm.

He can excuse the teasing about the past. You have held him through enough bouts of sobbing in this very bunk after the visions which haunt him in slumber have torn him from sleep to earn the privilege of lightly teasing him. When nightmarish sights of his past sins overwhelmed him, you were always there, dutifully picking up his pieces. 

But Din Djarin will never accept a charge of cowardice. 

You know he is not seriously scared. Din is no coward. And he knows that you would never seriously lay such a charge at his door. 

“You know I’m only teasing you, handsome,” you say with a wink you hope he can see.

You realise that Din has never lived somewhere for long enough to hear the rain pattering on the roof. His covert cloistered in the caves of Concordia. The Razor Crest was home but never docked in one place long enough for it to truly function as such. 

The fact that until now, Din has been denied the simple pleasure of listening to a rainstorm in the arms of one you love is yet another detail of his life which brings you anguish. 

“I think it’s very sweet, actually," you whisper, hoping he knows you meant no malice, "It's our first proper rainstorm in this cabin," you add, ensuring that he knows you understand this is new for him.

Despite how much Din's past makes your heart ache, you will not wallow in pity for him. Instead, it strengthens your resolve to make sure Din is loved every moment of the eternity he has vowed to spend with you. 

You lean in for a gentle kiss, “Roll over and let me hold you, my love,” you whisper against his plush lips.

Din sighs and then leans in to kiss you again before he complies. A touch so slow and sweet, so different to the frenzied way his lips claimed yours hours before. Satisfied, he agrees to your proposal, flipping over with a grunt.

You position yourself so your chest is flush with his firm back, placing a kiss on the centre of his back, between his broad shoulders. Din sighs in contentment. You smile, relieved you can comfort him like this. It is a privilege unique to you out of everyone in the galaxy.

You slip your hands underneath the soft cotton shirt he wears to bed and absentmindedly trace circles onto the warm expanse of his stomach. His body is firm beneath your fingers thanks to his muscular physique; but there is a hint of softness there, which increases each year as he ages. 

You do not mind one bit. It only makes his body better suited to cuddles.

This warrior who once terrified everyone is now a little softer at the edges, his toughness gradually eroded by the love he feels for his son and you, his riduur.

"Thank you," Din sleepily mumbles before he drifts off again, no longer disturbed by the thudding of the rain against the roof.

Fierce independence borne out of trauma had meant that Din had never previously known the simple pleasure of listening to rainfall pattering against the roof. It was a new reverberation, one initially alien and alarming to his highly attuned senses. 

Fortunately, Din was not afraid for long. Now, he has you to hold him through the storm. There is no more fear or anxiety as he cuddles with you, his riduur, while the sound continues outside.

You whisper, "I love you, Din," before sleep's comforting embrace takes you too and you join Din somewhere peaceful. Far away from the downpour.

Follow @thefrogdalorianfics for updates on my latest fics!

[lunar-wandering]

everyone else: MK is gonna lose an eye!!!

me, galaxy brained: MK is the missing eye

I've been thinking about this for fucking forever.

If MK was just outright this little stone monkey statue, it almost feels like... well, basically: it kinda feels a little... too obvious, for a plot point of it's nature????

(plus, not to mention the repeated shots of a chip being broken off of rock)

So I was thinking, y'know. And I was thinking about how, every time MK has landed a big final attack, it's been seen from space.

And I'm thinking about how this one shot implies something was on the other side of the cracks;

(not to mention that this light is GOLDEN!!)

And I'm thinking about how the light coming through the cracks (as well as the... strange whispers), seemed to hurt MK, and knocked him out of Monkey Form;

And, just.

All I can think of is that MK is drawing his power from a larger source...

(There is, of course, the opposite possibility, that MK has just been missing a piece of himself from the beginning. It's not foreshadowing that something's going to be lost, it's foreshadowing that something's always been lost. But I find the idea of him just being a small part of a large chaos being a LOT more fun).

[thealtoduck]

Reunion

Cal Kestis x Male Mirialan ex-Jedi!Reader

Warnings: You flirt with stormtroopers…

Part 1: Being a mirialan jedi youngling and getting your kyber crystal…

Y/l/c = Your lightsaber color

Summary: After the fall of the Jedi Order you fled to Raxus Secundus for your survival, 5 years later Cal Kestis and the crew of the Stinger Mantis land on Raxus Secundus with their ship in need of repairs…

——

You walked in to the cantina looking around at the different patrons, you walked and sat down at the bar. The bartender soon showed up in front of you and asked ”What can i get you?”. You thought for a second and decided ”A phattro, please”.

”Coming right up” he said and soon placed a glass filled with a purple beverage in front of you. You took a sip and a familiar refreshing taste hit you. Two off-duty stormtroopers were sitting a few chairs away from you, their helmets placed next to their drinks.

They were looking towards you. You gave them a small smile and raised your glass to them in a little ”cheers”. They smiled back at you and grabbed their drinks and helmets coming over to you, sitting down on each of your sides.

”Hey beautiful, what’s your name?” said the one to your left. ”I’m Y/n, what’s yours?” you said in a alluring tone. ”They call me Red” he introduced himself with a smirk. You turned to the trooper to your right and asked ”And you?”. ”Spikes” he answered cooly.

”How may i be of assitance for the troops?” you asked taking another sip of your drink. ”Well, we’ve had a lot to attend to lately and it can get very stressfull” Red explained. ”Extremely stressfull” Spikes added. ”And we thought a pretty thing like yourself might help us… relieve some of that stress” Red said putting a hand at your waist.

You smiled a flirty smile. ”Oh really, how about we-” you started but was cut off by a sudden feeling brought on by the force, a warning? No. A familiarity, a memory, a very distant one. You stood up and looked around seeing no one. ”Are you alright?” Spikes asked.

”Uh yeah… Sorry i have to go” you said, leaving credits and a tip for the bartender. Red scoffed annoyed and said a snide ”Tease”. You ignored him and walked out on to the streets of Tamwith Bay. The connection you had felt was now lost.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus, reaching out through the force, trying to find the connection again but there was nothing. You were left alone and confused.

As you wandered home you thought to yourself about what or who it might’ve been, a Jedi? Just another force user lost in the galaxy?. Memories of the jedi and your training started flooding your brain as you entered your small apartment.

You had been made a padawan only 4 months before the collapse of the Jedi Order and the Republic. In most cases you would’ve most likely been to young to become a padawan but the Clone Wars had taken a big strain on the order and because of the deaths of many masters and padwans in battle there were a lot of gaps to fill.

You had been assigned to Jocasta Nu, the chief librarian of the Jedi archives. You didn’t earn a lot of battlefield experience from this but your master had shown you some of the secrets of the Jedi temple.

Once the destruction of the Jedi hit in full force you and your master escaped the temple through a secret passage hidden within the temple. Once on the streets of Coruscant she ordered you to get on a shuttle while she had drawn away a group of Clone Troopers.

That had been the last you ever saw of her as the shuttle had left. Sometimes you wondered if she had survived that night and had managed to escape the purge as well but even then they might’ve caught up with her sooner or later.

You lifted a loose floor panel of the ground revealing a box containing your now dusty jedi robes, a hard drive containing Jedi texts and your twin lightsabers. You brought your lightsabers out afraid to turn them on incase someone could here the noise and report it to the empire.

You shouldn’t even bring them out of their hiding spot, you never knew who was watching. But something told you that you would be needing them in a couple of hours. You went to bed that night with your lightsabers hidden under your bed in case of a intruder or sudden attacker.

You were kept allert by the force the next day, you hid your lightsabers beneath a cloak as you ventured out in to town. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary so you just tried to go about your business as usual but as evening came, things would change.

You were once again making your way home but saw people running away from the town square, you decided to check it out. Once you got there you were met with a life changing sight. It was jedi, or at least someone carrying a lightsaber who knew how to fight like a Jedi.

He was fighting what you assumed was an imperial inquisitor, you had heard rumours about them but never seen one in person. They were Jedi hunters, sent out to find the survivors of the purge.

You then felt the connection from the day before reignite, you had met this Jedi before… but who was it? Suddenly the Inquisitor used a force push to knock the Jedi in to a stack of crates, knocking him over.

As the Jedi layed among the crates you caught a glimpse of his face, he looked like… Cal Kestis, a friend of yours from the order. The Inquisitor walked menacingly towards Cal, spinnig his double bladed lightsaber.

Without thinking you forced jump up in the air and landing between Cal and the Inquisitor. You faced the Inquisitor and ignited your lightsabers making two y/l/c blades emerge from them.

”Two Jedi, this just got a lot more interesting” the Inquisitor said, his smirk being covered by the helmet. It had been a long time since you fought or even practised with your lightsabers so you begged the force would guide you.

The Inquisitor slashed at you but you dodged, you flipped over his head cutting at him but he blocked. The two of you started attacking back and forward while Cal tried to absorb what just happened. A hodded Jedi had just come out of nowhere and saved his life.

He watched as the Jedi fought, lightsabers skills clearly rusty but skilled. Cal then got of his feet and jumped, attacking the Inquisitor from behind. The Inquisitor managed to block but started to struggle keeping up with the three blades slashing at him.

While the Inquisitor was blocking an attack from both one of yours and Cal’s saber. You managed to get a cut in down the middle of the doublebladed saber, destroying it. You and Cal then force pushed the Inquisitor at the same time sending him flying in to a stone wall which knocked him out.

Cal then let out a sigh of relief at the Inquisitor’s defeat. He then turned to you and said ”You’re a Jedi”. ”Not quite” you said lowering your hood making Cal’s eyes widen as regcognition hit. ”Y/n?” he questioned.

”Hi Cal, it’s been a while” you greeted. Without warning Cal ran up to you and threw his arms around you. You were caught of guard at first but then wrapped your arms around him as well, it didn’t hit you until now how much you had missed him.

You heard troopers approaching and broke the hug. ”Come on, this way” you said and started sprinting down an alley way. Cal followed close behind. You led him back to your apartment, you gave one last look outside before closing the door, making sure you weren’t followed.

Once behind closed doors you find your arms locked around each other in another tight embrace. ”How did you survive? You were on Coruscant that would’ve been the most heavily guarded planet?” Cal questioned in amazement.

”Let’s sit down” you said, you made some tea for the two of you and poured it up in two cups. You both sat down around a small table and you started telling him how Master Nu had saved your life and that it had let you escape Coruscant.

”How about you?” you asked and Cal explained that his master had sacrificed himself for him. He then told you of the events that led him and his crew to land on Raxus Secundus a couple days ago for ship repairs.

”Y/n, you should come with us, we’re trying to rebuild some of what’s left of the Jedi Order, you could help us” Cal suggested. You thought about it for a second before answering ”Cal, I’m not sure how much i will be able to help you, i only just became a padawan before the fall of the Jedi”.

”To us that’s enough, we need to rebuild with what little we have left” Cal insisted. ”I don’t know Cal, i just need some time to think” you told him. ”Alright, you have until tommorow, me and my crew are leaving once our repairs are done” Cal said.

You opened the floor panel and brought out the hard drive out of the box. ”What’s that?” Cal asked. ”It’s a hard drive, it contains a few Jedi texts from the library. It’s not a lot but it’s something, i think you should have it” you said handing it to him.

”Thank you” Cal accepted gratefully. Cal then contacted his crew and let them know about the events of the day. They decided it was best for Cal to stay the night with you as security had tightened because of the reveal of two Jedis in the city and that he should try sneak his way to the ship at the crack of dawn.

”Where should i sleep?” Cal asked, looking around your small apartment, there weren’t many options besides the bed and the floor. ”You can have the bed” you offered. ”And let you sleep on the floor, we can share your bed, wouldn’t be the first time” Cal suggested.

”Alright” you nodded and the two of climbed in to bed together, laying on your sides to face each other. ”This reminds me of when we would sneak out of out temple rooms to have sleep overs together” Cal said making a smile spread over your face.

”I remember that and that one time Master Skywalker caught you on the way to my room but he promised not to tell anyone” you reminded Cal who let out a chuckle. ”Then after you left the temple with Master Tapal, i remember how much i missed you and how lonely i felt” you admited.

”I missed you too Y/n, especially after purge. It was terrifying having no way to know if you had survived or not” Cal said as you gazed in to each others eyes. He continued ”But now we’re both here again and i never want to leave you behind”.

Cal then leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, from which you didn’t pull back. While attachment was against the Jedi teachings their was no order around anymore to supervise you. You were free.

As you both pulled away from each others lips you brought a hand up to cup his cheek stroking it lightly. ”I’ll come with you, i don’t want to lose you again either” you confessed. You both then fell asleep, hands clasped together ready for the challenges tommorow would bring.

[dinofromspac3]

Hi! Could I have 10,11 and 12’s reaction to alien reader? Perhaps realising their supposedly’human’ companion is very obviously in a human form. And that they aren’t themself, human?

I’m thinking maybe they convince reader to show their alien form more, or etc in general!

Maybe have readers alien form have yk, multiple arms? Or multiple eyes!

Sorry if this is to specific!

I absolutely love this idea! I sort of made into head canon form, I hope you don’t mind<3

Also, thank you for being my first request!

Enjoy <3

(also I think I may have only done what you actually asked for 12… oops)

Doctor Who Masterlist

10th Doctor

You’ve been traveling with the Doctor for a while, and you feel like he’s opened up to about some pretty serious stuff.

You’re happy that he’s come around to trusting you, but you can’t help but feel terribly guilty for hiding your true identity.

You were a Stask. A shape-changing lifeform that allowed you to pass as human for many years.

Your true form, however, was a grey-skinned, six-eyed, humanoid, with long white hair.

The longer you traveled with him, the more it ate away at you. Until one day, you couldn’t hide it any longer.

You left your room on the TARDIS and went to find the Doctor. He was easy enough to find, he was almost always in the console room. And if he wasn’t he was usually in the library.

“Um, Doctor?” You spoke up, calling his attention to you. You were nervous. What if he hated you for this? No, you mustn’t dwell on such things.

“Y/n!” He replied enthusiastically. He took a few steps towards you, but stopped in his tracks when he saw your face and your stature. “Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“I… I have something to tell you,” you expressed, as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

“What is it? What happened?” He pressed, growing more concerned.

No matter how many times you stammered, and started over. You just couldn’t seem to get the words out.

He stared at you, his face full of worry. He could tell something wasn’t right, but he wasn’t sure why. And didn’t like not knowing.

You took a deep breath and did the only other thing you could think to do. You changed back to your true form, right in front of his eyes.

Your hair went white, and your skin back to its dull grey that you never liked. It was one of the reasons you never stayed in your true form.

His eyes went wide for a moment before his face scrunched up in total confusion. “What?!”(WOT!?) He exclaimed.

“Please don’t be mad!” You winced at his reaction, holding your hands out in front of you.

“You’re a Stask,” he pointed out the obvious, clearly dumbfounded by it all.

“Yes…”

“But-but-but what!?” He said again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you began dejectedly. “I understand if you want me to go.”

“Go? Go where?” The Doctor asked. Seriously, after one big shock, it takes a minute for his brain to reboot.

You just shrugged.

He shook his head, sympathetically. “No, I don’t want you to go.”

“Really!?” You felt your heart swell at that. He didn’t want you to leave, he was just a bit surprised.

11th Doctor

You’d been traveling with the Doctor for over 2 years now. Ever since he saved your life when you were trapped on that 54th century space shuttle.

The crew was human, so you’d disguised yourself as a human to avoid awkward stares. As your true form had deep violet skin, 5 inky black eyes, and pointed ears.

Your species was called Anziks. Of the many shape changer races in the universe you were not one of them, however, your people had the most advanced Shimmer technology in 3,000 neighboring galaxies. It was almost undetectable and much more comfortable than most others.

Of course, you had been wearing one when the Doctor found you. And you had been wearing it since, only taking it off when you were alone in your room on the TARDIS.

Often on your adventures you’d make passing remarks or jokes about how “humans are silly” and remembering things from your home planet. The Doctor never seemed to notice, at least he didn’t let on that he did.

Even with Anziks’s advanced Shimmer technology, it still got stuffy and little difficult to breathe after wearing it for a long period of time.

Today it was particularly bad.

The Doctor was rambling on about something, you really couldn’t say what. You had dismissed yourself quickly, heading straight to your room.

Immediately when you entered your room, you dropped the shimmer, and your deep indigo skin faded back to view, along with your ears and eyes.

You could’ve sworn you shut the door, but the next thing you knew you turned around after taking a breath, only to freeze completely, like a deer in headlights.

The Doctor stood there, a strange metal box he was holding, clattered to the floor.

“Doctor!” You practically screamed, as you quickly put the Shimmer back on, hoping somehow he’d forget.

But it was no use, he’d seen it. You’d been caught.

“Y/n?” He sputtered out, pointing at you. “No! No, no, no, no!”

“I can explain!” You blurted. “I swear I can explain! P-please don’t be angry!”

The Doctor opened his mouth to speak several times, each time with a new hand gesture, but he wasn’t really making any progress on saying anything.

You sighed, still feeling a little like you were choking in your Shimmer. And so you dropped it again, allowing the Doctor to see you how you truly looked.

His mouth snapped shut as he gaped at you.

“I don’t know why I hid it,” you admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“S-so y-you’re a-a-a—“ he stammered.

“An Anziks,” you finished for him. “I’ve been wearing a Shimmer. At first it was just for the job, to keep people from staring at me.”

“Then… we got stranded, and hunted by those Kruuls…” You explained. “and then you came and rescued me and I… there just wasn’t a good time.”

“I see,” he said, his face still slightly pale from the unexpected news.

“Are you angry with me?” You asked, hopeful he would say no.

And to your delight, he shook his head, and relief washed over you like a warm blanket of water.

He smiled and said, “It’s just nice to finally see you.”

12th Doctor

You’d only been traveling with the Doctor for a couple of months.

He was strange, and wonderful and kind, but still you were nervous to tell him your secret.

Today, you decided to confess to him, before the lie went on for too long.

You walked into the TARDIS console room, where he was reading a book on the second level. He noticed you come in but he didn’t look up.

“Doctor,” you said, taking a few more steps toward him. “I have something to tell you.”

He still didn’t look up. He licked his finger, and turned the page of his book. “Okay,” he said.

You let out a sort of shaky sigh at his aloof attitude. “Doctor, I think you should put the book down for a moment. It’s a bit… serious.”

He looked looked up at you, realizing how serious you were being, and decided to close the book as set it on the table next to him. He waited for you to continue.

You took a deep breath, before looking back at him. “I am… not human.”

He stared at you blankly, and you cringed at what that could mean.

“That’s it?” The Doctor asked, taking you completely off guard.

“W-what?”

“I mean, no offense, Y/n,” he continued. “But you’re not exactly good at hiding it.”

Now it was your turn to stare blankly at him. He’d known? How long had he known?

“So tell me,” the Doctor smiled at you. “Where are you from?”

“I…” you started, wanting to question him, but instead answered his question. “Scravikos 5.”

“Ah, Scravikos 5,” he repeated warmly. “So, you must be hiding that lovely second set of arms then?”

“Um… yes,” you said, still completely dumbfounded that he knew all along. “H-how long have you known?”

“Oh, I knew right away,” he scoffed. “It was very obvious.”

“But… you never said?”

“Why would I?” The Doctor questioned.

You shook your head, and shrugged. “Because I lied to you, I suppose?”

“Oh really it was nothing,” he waved off your reasoning. “How long have you had your arms tucked away?”

“About 8 months,” you responded. You had crashed landed on Earth a few months before you met the doctor, and you’d hidden the only thing that was your dead giveaway that you weren’t human.

Well, that must be terribly uncomfortable,” he sympathized. It was a little, and you silently tilted your head in agreement. “Well, you don’t need to hide them here,” he said, urging you to be comfortable in your own skin again.

“Oh, you mean…” you started, eyes wide in surprise at his acceptance, although truly you weren’t sure why you were surprised. He just nodded.

At that you allowed your second set of arms to sprout out of your back. With them out again, it felt instantly easier to breathe.

The Doctor smiled, and you smiled.

And you never hid them again, save for a few choice time period adventures.

[sunlitpearl]

You… are waiting for the train.

It's not a weird occurrence— You have to get to work somehow, after all. (Do you work? Well, of course you do. Why would you be here otherwise?)

The subway is packed at this hour. As the world wakes up and gets ready for the day, many a person needs to be somewhere else; their job, their school, their parent's house. They come into the subway in droves, pushing and pulling each way like a pack of sheep. To the side of the cacophony this comes with, muffled conversations and the of locomotives becoming ambient sounds, you sit on a bench towards the wall.

A kid approaches you. It catches your eye, because even in the mass of rushing people, he manages to make a bee-line for you. He has black hair, tousled messily one way or another on his head, and very big eyes. The light of the subway hits them in a way that you can't help but compare them to a galaxy. You've never been the poetic sort, but his eyes are as dark as void, and that's exactly why they reflect every thing he sets his eyes on with accurate detail. As if they're trying to soak in all aspects of life, so that he may use them later.

He looks like you, a little, though that's dumb because you don't have black hair or eyes, and you weren't that small when you were his age. (Or were you? You feel like you should look at yourself again.)

"You're the one that made this, right?" He says, turning his phone around to show you an image of what is unmistakably your art style. (But you blink, and it's not a drawing anymore— it's a piece of writing, the one you posted the other day on your personal blog. The one with three notes.)

Regardless, what he's showing you is yours. "Yeah."

"I really liked it." He smiles, and for a moment you are alone with him in a sea of people and all that matters is that this child you don't know is happy. "I didn't know other people liked this book. It's my favourite."

Oh, the book. The one your art-writing was about. "It's my favourite too."

Is it? It's a novel you read a few years ago, one that changed your life and impacted more than half of your daily thoughts. Even now, it sticks with you. But… No, no, you haven't even finished it yet. It's a novel you picked up because a friend recommended it to you- you're still trying to see where it goes, but you think you like it so far.

No, but, still. That doesn't sound right. What was the name of it, again?

"Really?" His eyes are sparkling in a way they weren't when he first approached you and you're, again, surprised by how dark they are. You smile.

A new train arrives. It's noisy.

He leans in a little closer so that you can hear him. "Oh, um. That's all I wanted to say. Just, thank you."

The kid turns his head around, searching the crowd until he finds what he needs. "I should… get going, I think. That one over there is mine."

And just like that, you wave him off as his small body disappears amongst the many passengers of the 8:10 train. As the doors close, you think you see him wave back.

Leaning your back against the wall, you let the murmurs of conversations that don't quite reach your ears lull your brain into quietness.

…Do you have a picture of yourself, in your blog?

[quitealotofsodapop]

Known your not feeling well and I'm sorry to ask but this idea for jttw stoen egg au just kept nagging at me. This takes place during the Journey of course since it's, essentially, during and right after the Camel Ridge incident.

After the rather disastrous meeting of Wukong's brothers, whom entire existence explains way too much about their most chaotic member for the Pilgrim's comfort, particularly in regards to his habit ofmputting himself into danger without a second thought and reavted to even the alightest hint of failure, Tripitaka determines they need a break. So they find an inn.

Macaque, he lost his eye. Unlike in the other aus, it wasn't Wukong who took it. It was Azure. And Wukong is absolutely distraught over both how things escalated and how he had unintentionally been forced into the position of a damsel in distress by Azure. The way his trusted elder brothers, whom he had looked up to, had turned against him and how the man he had admired had crippled his precious mate to whom he only recently reunited with he himself unable to do anything due to his baby! How he had intentionally kept Macaque away from him, he later discovered. It all culminated into a very, very upset monkey.

Macaque for the most part is okay with the loss of his eye. As far as he's concerned, it's a small price to pay for to make up for how horrible a mate he's been to his Peaches and what any person would do to protect their mate. He's too injured to really do much of anything, but he tries to stay as close to Wukong as possible. Ao Lie finds it sweet.

Tripitaka, however, is not happy. He had trusted in the bonds of Wukong's family, having had nothing but good, if terrifying experiences with them, and had nearly lost Wukong because he'd trusted the wrong demon! He isn't mad at Wukong or Macaque, as neither were really at fault since nobody expected Azure to pull that stunt, but the fact it happened angers him. To discover his first disciple had suffered and been betrayed by one he trusted enough to call brother is nothing less than an outrage to him. The more he learns about Wukong's treatment by the Brotherhood from Macaque, the more Tripitaka wishes he had not been a pacifist.

Wujing and Baije have had their worlds rocked in an irreparable way. They'd already accepted that their belief about Wukong being the monster they had once thought he was most certainly had been destroyed by then. Zu Baijie has even come to tease Wukong as his Little Big Brother and looked forward to being an uncle for Wukong's cub! But to discover all of Heaven's beliefs about the Havoc and the War thay followed was a fallacy created by one man who manipulated their brother into doing the crimes he did when he was but a cub... it doesn't sit right for either of them, and they notably stand closer and more protectively of Wukong for a bit. As close as his overprotective mate will allow them, at least, yikes! And Baijie had thought Ao Lie was aggressively protective! He's got nothing on the shadow monkey!

prev.

Ohhhh the idea of Mac losing his eye to Azure in the Jttw SE au is galaxy brain. Since Mac lost his eye in his canon fight with Wukong, losing the eye whilst choosing to protect Wukong is a really good story twist!

The Pilgrims and the Brotherhood are not having a good first meeting, and Macaque sees it all go down.

He hates the Pilgrims personally; dragging his King away from the island where he's needed, forcing him to act as an errand boy for the Buddha, that disgusting circlet with the mantra even he feels in his skull.

Macaque had watched Wukong and his travelling companions from afar long before revealing himself to them. He had overheard the jubilant calls from Flower Fruit Mountain that the King had returned - but also heard the disappointed confirmation that he had chosen to continue on a pilgrimage with the Tang Monk to Thunderclap Monastery. The shadow monkey had leapt from his employment with Jiuweihuli to devote himself entirely to tracking down his returned mate (the vixen had not minded, she understood that her protégé's heart was yearning).

Macaque trailed the group for weeks before the Brotherhood ever thought to ask him for his input. Macaque had spat his hatred for the hypocritical monk, the perverted swine, the thoughtless fish, and the useless dragon-horse, so venomously that the three demon kings were convinced of his loyalty to them.

However, Macaque's disdain for the Pilgrims did *not* mean his devotion to Wukong swayed. Because something disgusts him even more than this whole Journey;

How his former brother Azure treats Wukong.

Treating Macaque's King, his Peaches, his Mate; like he owned him. That Wukong surrendering was tantamount to betrayal. They speak of him as though he's one of the gods that repressed them. Their sworn brother, the person who sacrificed his freedom for their survival!

Then Azure grabs Wukong by the shoulder and orders that the king stay in Camel Ridge. Giving their former leader an offer that sounds far too layered and provocative to be one of mere loyalty...

Macaque: "I'm going to have to stop you right there Azure. Wukong goes where he damn well pleases. And if he doesn't want to stay here with you, then he should be allowed to leave." Azure: (*dumbstruck by Macaque's outburst*) Peng: (*shocked but impressed bird noise!*) Yellow Tusk: (*calmly prepares for the rumble thats about to go down*) Wukong, in awe at Mac's protective act: "Mihou..." Macaque, rushes over to Wukong: "Peaches... I- I thought it was wrong for you to go on this pilgrimage, but you've... healed. You were really hurt when they sent you under that mountain, I saw it first hand, and even though I don't care for your companions-" Zhu Bajie: "Hey!" Macaque, continues: "-they clearly have your best interests in mind. They jump to protect you, even though they know you're strong enough to bend the sky in half. I've seen the Monk allow himself to be tossed from a horse's saddle just to convince you to ride instead of walk in your condition." Wukong, happy tears: "Master's cassock is still stained from that day..." Macaque, happy laughter: "And I still have the bite wound from when I first approached you. From the monk!" (*Wukong & Macaque press their foreheads together with affection*) Macaque: "This is going to sound... absolutely insane, but from what I've seen and heard in the few weeks... I'd like to stay along for the ride. If you'd have me." Wukong, trying to hide his joy: "You mean it?! You'll come with us all the way to India!?" Macaque: "Yup. Beyond that too." (*gently places hand on Wukong's mid-section*) "I wanna be there to see the Egg come into this world. And be there to see how much havoc they cause our kingdom." (*Romantic monkey noises ensue!*) Tripitaka: "Um... I'd hate to intrude-" Zhu Bajie: "No you don't." Tripitaka: "True. But we are currently in the middle of being attacked by three of your former sworn brothers." The Brotherhood: (*already mid-battle with Ao Lie and Sha Wujing*) Macaque & Wukong: "Oh yeah..." "Forgot they were still here..." Macaque: "Be back in a moment peaches." Macaque: (*Rushes at Azure and turns into his Kaiju form*) Wukong: (*purring and heart-eyes*) (*♥ω♥)

The ensuing fight is pretty brutal, all things considered. Even though Wukong does swing his staff around, the others don't want to risk his health in his condition. Tripitaka and Ao Lie in particular keep trying to route Wukong away from the battle entirely.

Macaque and the dragon end up forming a tag team to take down Azure, whilst Bajie and Wujing deal with Peng and Yellow Tusk respectively.

Azure suddenly changes course, aiming his sword for Wukong's middle.

Macaque jumps ahead of the swing.

Wukong screams as blood sprays both him and Azure.

Macaque crumbles to the ground, his face a red mess. A massive gash stretching across his face and cutting through his right socket.

Wukong feels his heart stop.

And within seconds; Yama and the Ten Kings greet the three rogue celestial animals in their court. The bodhisattvas and the Buddha's most trustworthy arrive shortly thereafter, looking supremely disgusted with their steeds' actions.

-

Macaque is out cold for days afterwards. The Pilgrims find the nearest inn brave enough to operate in demon territory. The monkey is silent and unmoving, but his heart still beats. Wukong refuses to leave his bedside for even a moment.

The Pilgrims finally understand how much both monkeys mean to one another.

Bajie does his best to comfort his little-big brother, feeling the sympathy of a hundred heartbreaks. He takes over cooking duties without being asked for the first time in forever. He starts making soups.

Ao Lie sneaks into the room in his smaller dragon form, curling against Macaque's body and whispering for him to please wake up and not leave brother Wukong to raise his pup without his mate.

Tripitaka is furious. Not at his disciple or even his disciple's antagonistic mate. But at the Brotherhood, at the Taoist Gods, himself - every level of anger he's every felt in one lifetime. Wukong even hears his Master attempt to take his rage out on his holy vestments (he had thought to strike a tree or rock but decided against it). The cassock and hat are noticeably crumpled the next time Wukong sees him.

Sha Wujing is the one to suggest that they all come together and meditate and pray in this dark moment. His qi exhausted from (without his brothers' knowledge) astrally contacting any and all people who may wish to see the Macaque one last time. He felt it was the least he could do.

Guanyin appears, called forth by each Pilgrim praying for the shadow monkey's survival. A certain king's prayer the loudest of them all. All the goddess can provide is a drop of her healing waters to awaken Macaque from his coma.

Macaque right eye is permanently blinded. Azure's divine attack destroyed it entirely. A blow meant for Wukong - no, meant for the Egg. Without even caring for his injury, Macaque immediately springs forward, worried about his King.

Wukong cries so hard with relief that he gets hiccups. Him and Macaque do not part from their embrace for hours.

The Stone Egg begins kicking for the first time.

[peachypede]

I will never not be bitter about how Kamado is portrayed as an shitty guy in the fandom and Volo is uwu pretty boy he was just feeling angsty when he tried to destroy the world and kill protagonist with giratina uwu

Rant below

Kamado, yes, made a horrible decision. He had his reasons. He saw his whole village destroyed by pokemon when he was young and never wanted that to happened again, Beni says they watched their family and friends DIE, so he gave in to his paranoia and banished the protagonist. It’s not an excuse, but he has his reasons for doing so.

And what does Kamado do when he realizes he’s wrong? The man get down on his hands and knees and BEGS your forgiveness. He does the Dogeza, the bow in Japanese culture that is the ultimate form of apology and respect to the other person. Kamado eats dirt and is basically saying “I fucked up so bad and I am so very, very, very sorry.” The Dogeza also is performed to show high respect, so Kamado is basically telling you as well that you far surpass his position. Your emperor levels of worthiness and strength. I think the amount of how embarrassing and humble this pose is is lost to people in the Western culture but this is a BIG apology and possibly even the BEST apology Kamado could gives since it’s an apology beyond words. He also apologizes to everyone else, telling them they were right and he was wrong.

"I acted on ill-considered presumptions and drove you from the Galaxy Expedition Team, forcing you to face great hardship alone…”

And you change Kamado. He becomes more willing to delegate and work with other people. He follows your lead. Hell, he has a line after you beat him on Prelude Beach where he basically calls you a god, that’s how much this dude respects you now.

"Perhaps you are a divine being yourself, sent to bring us gifts from above…”

The guy takes no credit for the victory on mount coronet, he says it’s all you!

"I know I've no right to say this... But we are truly fortunate to have been able to count you among the Survey Corps' ranks. If you had not joined us, we would have fallen on Mount Coronet. We would have lost our home. We would have lost our future."

He is a truly changed man in the end.

"I used to think that Pokémon were terrifying creatures. You've helped me see otherwise."

Volo on the other hand? Tricks you, betrays you, and then tries to KILL YOU. Kamado was always upfront from the beginning that he didn’t trust you, but Volo? He’s buddy-buddy with you to take advantage of you.

And he’s the reason why this all happened! He created the rift, displaced pokemon and hell some people since Ingo obviously fell in through this rift too (People blame Arceus for this :/ ) and nearly killed everyone in Hisui with rampaging nobles and origin forme Dialga or Palkia.

And in the end, Volo doesn’t apologize at all. The dude doesn’t even change.

"Someday, I'll solve every riddle in the legends of Hisui's Pokémon. And on that day, I'll stand before Arceus at last—No, I will CONQUER it! No matter how many years, how many decades, how many centuries it takes me!"

I’m just fully convinced at this point that it 100% has to do with Volo being pretty and Kamado not being that attractive.

My hot take of the new year: Kamado is WAY better husband material than Volo could ever be.

Anyway my rant is over…no hate on Volo lovers, I do think he’s a fun character to rotate like a chicken on a spit in your brain but this has been my biggest grievance in the PLA fandom.

[cerise-on-top]

Hi! Hope you're having a lovely day ✨️

Valeria and Gaz with a fashion designer s/o! Dressing them up and using them as a practice model to test new designs... this has nothing to do with my need to put Valeria in a suit, ofc not

Anon, you're so galaxy brained for wanting to put Valeria in a suit in all honesty! She'd look so good in one because women always look good in suits!

Gaz and Valeria with a Fashion-Designer!S/O

Gaz: He’d honestly be so flattered you wanna use him as a practice model. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a very pretty man and he’s well aware of that fact, but he didn’t think he’d ever get that sort of privilege. The first time you measure him he’s a bit confused, but complies, asking you with a chuckle about what you’re doing. However, as soon as you present him with a jaw dropping suit that leaves every other one in the dust, he’s a big fan. While he may have supported you from the very beginning as soon as he heard that you’re a designer, his support skyrockets as soon as you present him with the first piece of clothing for him to wear. He feels so very fancy wearing it. He may be used to wearing fancy clothing from time to time when invited to certain occasions, such as weddings, but he never really paid much mind to that sort of thing. Once you’ve put the first article of clothing on him, he’ll ask you if you wanna use him as a practice model again at some point. Only if you feel like it, of course. He hopes you’ll say yes, he loves how creative you are and the things you create. You’re a lovely designer who puts their heart and soul into it all, and it shows. Although unprompted and despite it being a bit silly, he’ll also pose and do that one walk models do where they sway their hips. He feels pretty in your clothing. If he can afford it, which he likely can, then he’ll even buy some of the things you’ve made. And yes, he will 100% wear them as well, doesn’t matter if it’s a fish tail or if it’s a shirt with a dragon on it. He unironically loves it and will wear it whenever he can.

Valeria: She chuckles a bit when you ask her to put on some clothing you made. Valeria is a very attractive woman, and she knows it, so she’s not at all surprised when you ask her to put on a suit. She’s worn those before, and every time she has she was turning heads left and right. If you blush while seeing her in a suit then she’ll chuckle and trap you against the wall before letting you continue whatever it was you were doing. Like Gaz she wholeheartedly supports you, and she’ll own every single article of clothing you’ve ever created. While she may not have the time to wear them all every time, you will catch her wearing your creations from time to time, if there’s no danger of them tearing. Valeria’s glad that you trust her enough to want her to try on all your prototypes and will gladly pose like a professional model for you and you only. The first time you measure her she, too, would be a bit confused and would ask you regarding what you’re doing, but afterwards she’s more than happy to model for you whenever she can. She doesn’t have a whole lot of time for that, but the things you do for love. If you ever want a real, professional model, she can arrange one, though, it’s no problem for someone like her. Besides, she has a pretty good eye for fashion as well, so she can give you some hints regarding what could look good and what might be a complete no go. You don’t have to do as she says, but she will point it out if you do. If she ever does find herself having the time and there’s a fashion show that shows some of your clothing, then she’ll watch it and jokingly tell you that she looked better in your clothes than all those models did. If you ever need some creative inspiration then I’m sure Valeria can help you as well, she’s seen plenty of things and is always more than happy to help you. Besides, she can get just about anything as well, so you really don’t need to fret if you wanna feel the fabric of something yourself.

[bongo-clash]

Peacock Au Part 1

Okay so Big Huge credit to @stealingyourbones for letting me do my own take on their amazing eldritch Danny idea!!!! This started out as me just doing a drawing but then I ended up with a whole DPxDC fic that I'll be posting the part two for at some point!!! Anyway, here's the vague designs:

And here's the part one of the fic under the cut!!! :D (Edit: Part 2 is Here!!)

There’s a Lazarus Pit forming underneath Gotham. Normally, this would not concern John Constantine at all, because it’s Gotham, therefore Bat territory therefore not his problem, and honestly he has his own things to worry about. Unfortunately for him, however, the infamous Dark Knight has somehow gotten it into his head that he can do something about it and, Hell, he’d said it would be a ‘big favour’, which meant the man really must be desperate; had to have been in the first place, he supposed, to have even bothered with John in the first place. 

Still, he’d almost kind of forgotten what a huge mess any kind of favour for Batman could be, and thus, he now holds possession of a book that is probably going to get him killed. 

Whether the actual book itself wants to kill him is up for debate, but Constantine has read the contents of this particular Book of Summonings and nothing in here seems remotely safe. He’s absolutely going to be hiding this away somewhere deep in the archives of the archives of the Justice League watchtower with an incredibly pointed ‘DO NOT TOUCH’ on it once he’s done with this, but for now, it’s the only thing he’s got in the way of sorting out this Pit problem. 

There’s an entity that exists, this book claims, that keeps the balance between realms. ‘Closes doors’, apparently, and the doors the pages depict certainly look like a Lazarus Pit. This is brilliant news, obviously, but the book doesn’t describe the entity itself at all beyond that; barely any of the other entries are as vague as this, and that plus some of the frankly bizarre sigils he’s having to draw to summon the damn thing are giving him no comfort. The only remotely comforting thing about it is that the ritual doesn’t require any blood- which either means the entity is benign, or it wants something more valuable than blood. 

…Okay, maybe not that comforting, actually. 

But, before he can consider that maybe this wasn’t his best idea and backing out would be for the best, the sigils flare with light, and Constantine squints to keep track of the way they activate, desperate for any indication of what he’s managed to summon with that stupid book. 

His feet feel feathery against the ground, like they’re barely tethered by gravity and just waiting to float away, and perhaps the seeming lack of atmosphere is fitting with how dust like stars lift from the summoning circle, bringing with them intercepting layers of purple-blue-pink-white, galaxies and nebulae being peeled off the floor. It comes with a sound- something whistling, almost. Seeming hollow, between a shriek and a bell ringing, or maybe more musical than that. It seems to change every moment he tries to focus on it, as if it’s something his ears can’t really hear but his brain is desperate to process, painful to try. 

And then, the entity begins to form. 

Unnoticeably at first, a white glow drifts forming in the centre. It congeals as Constantine’s gaze finally fixates on it, layers forming like jellyfish trails, or flowers, or peacock feathers with runic circles at the tips, fading smaller and smaller as they reach the centre, and a thing akin to a body unfolds into view at the front, a centrepiece. A child’s image of a shadow in opalescence, a strange curving feature where a neck might be, and searing-green spots of varying sizes scattered along the space where cheeks and eyes could’ve been, fading up and down across the lower-half of the ‘face’ and into the ‘hair’. He barely understands what he’s looking at, but maybe that’s the point. 

The sound of a thunderstorm rings across the room, and the curve of the neck unfolds, and it’s an eye, and the tips of a thousand twisted, cosmic peacock feathers become eyes as well, if they weren’t always. They move, wavering, either lashing or flickering from visibility. 

“And what is this?” The voice is a kaleidoscope, echoing off and from every corner of the room, and when they speak, infinite eyes become infinite mouths, too many teeth barely contained by the edges of what seem vaguely like frostbitten lips. To have something even remotely human suddenly etch itself onto the entity is somehow worse than the parts he can’t comprehend. “Who are you, to have summoned me, and seem so afraid?”

Constantine wishes, maybe for the first time, that it hadn’t been an obligation to do this alone; he’s never wanted Batman or one of the Light members with him more than now. It’s a difficult thing, almost impossible, to shake off the speechlessness. It’s a wonder that it’s possible at all, with how the room seems to have been twisted into a vacuum. “I was told you could- you could help with the pits?”

“The pits. There are many pits.”

God, this is creepy. “The Lazarus pits to, uh, to be specific. There’s a huge one cropping up under Gotham that’s not supposed to be there, and the local- I mean, the locals are getting antsy about it. …I heard you can take care of them.”

“I can smell its blood between the gaps of atmosphere, encircling. You, whose soul is bound in so many directions, who may be pulled apart like meat in time- can you sense it? Does it draw you?” John doesn’t know how this- this thing knows that, but he’s scared asking will invoke some kind of consequence, and more and more he’s wondering why the Hell he decided to do Batman this favour. He feels exposed. 

“Uh… no, I don’t think so. But can you fix it?”

“Yes.”

“…Will you fix it?”

The chill is getting to him. Goosebumps are running across his arms like a livewire, and he’s never doing anyone a favour ever again. The entity makes an approximation of a hum, his ears shriek with whale song and stars, and after a pause, everything switching up and down on itself, the peacock eyes form into huge, reaching hands. For a second, Constantine’s whole body freezes with terror, because he’s petrified the thing’s going to grab him, but then the arms tumble phasing into the ground, and the green spots on their ‘face’ flare with a supernova glow and they make another piercing noise, chiming or trilling. 

A long moment later, the hands slowly return to the entity’s back, and fade into the peacock feathers or jellyfish bells or whatever they were before, blinking at him. “It is gone.”

“Uh… cheers?”

“It will not return, but this place shall see its dead for some time. Try not to look.”

This is maybe the worst day of Constantine’s life. “Can I- uh, yeah, great advice. ‘Appreciate it. But, can I ask just, y’know, what you are? Or not.”

“That is up to you.” They say, and though the eyes that appear briefly between sentences bely or reveal no expression, it feels scrutinising. “What is it that closes doors? Is it alive?”

He hates riddles. He hates riddles and he hates cosmic horrors and he hates eldritch entities and he hates Batman for getting him to agree to this horrible favour. He wants to go back to the House of Mystery and pass out for long enough that this whole thing becomes a dream. “Fair enough! Forget I asked- cheers for sorting out that pit, though. Uh, don’t suppose you’ll just let me go on my way or anything now.”

“I know of your Bat.” 

Oh dear. Constantine’s stomach sinks like a shipwreck into the Mariana Trench, but the entity moves on like they’d never even said it. “I will recede, and find you in time, perhaps both. You will know when I am coming, and I will find my recompense.”

And just like that, their whole form shimmers into clouds and pearls and smoke and mirrors, and they fade back into the runes that summoned them like tap water down the drain. The galaxies they’d formulated within the confines of the room fold back in on themselves and turn to whispers and then nothing, but the feeling persists on his skin long after weight has settled back onto his bones. He hadn’t known a thing like that existed until now. He doesn’t know what it can do, doesn’t know how all-encompassing it truly is. 

And he owes it a favour. 

Crap. 

[kakujis]

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓… ☽

baji vers | geto vers

synopsis: unbeknownst to you, the grave you visit everyday has been empty for years. keisuke is finally ready to come see you again.

warnings: gn!reader, vampire!baji, character death, devotion, grief and dealing with it, slightly angsty but also fluffy, pet names (baby, kitten), swearing, a little selfship coded, NOT PROOFREAD!, SFW feel free to interact but pls remember i'm an 18+ blog!

ft: vampire!baji x reader, 2.4k

network: @enchantedforest-network

an: here's baji's version!! actually, this one was supposed to come AFTER suguru's but... erm... hehe. it also was supposed to be spookier, but i am nothing but a big ole softy for my loverboy. ): happy halloween! i wanted to post it on his birfday, but i think this is more fitting! could've been longer but i just wanted to get something out LOL. thanks to nie for letting me ramble about this lil fic!!

life is such a finicky thing. and sometimes, the time ticks by too slowly for your liking until it’s suddenly too fast, too short, too soon.

you’ve been to this grave a hundred - no maybe thousands of times, over the years. and yet, like the snowfall, your tears slip down your cheeks, hugging the warmth of your body, til they fall onto the ground disappearing into the asphalt. 

chifuyu matsuno thinks one day, he’ll beat you to it. one day he’ll be the one who arrives first, turning around with a smile and holding a bag of peyoung yakisoba. it’ll be his eyes rimmed red with hands trembling so hard that he’s sure they’ll snap. but you are always here first, almost every day for the past god knows how many years. 

every aspect of the word “first”, is what keisuke baji had embodied. first division captain, first born son, and your first love. he was rowdy, rough, sometimes a little insensitive, but at the end of it all, he was loyal. he was yours. 

“if i’m yours, then you’re mine.” he grinned, toothy, vibrant and all encompassing. his hands held yours like they were the world, and maybe, in a sense, they were. but even the world cannot last forever, the stars themselves bursting at the seams when their time has come. 

“they’re so pretty.” you told him, leaning against his shoulder, pointing up with your index finger. “don’tcha think?” 

“they’re alright,” he mumbled, but he kept his eyes upward, staring at the same stars as you. “i'd rather look at you.” 

“you’re so fucking cheesy.” you laughed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek. 

when stars die, they leave a beautiful supernova, an explosion of color across the galaxy, painting the universe in rich hues of color. but when baji died, you thought it was so fucking ugly. you remember throwing up the first night, your own shitty constellation within the porcelain of your toilet. 

then the world started to dim, like the world was dipped in muted shades when there used to be so much vibrance. the sun was no longer as bright and you no longer sought comfort under the moon, hiding away from even her blue light. 

if there is solace in one thing, it’s that baji was a really good liar. sure, he was different that day and sometimes had trouble looking at you, but there was nothing to suspect that he would decide to plunge in that knife and bleed out on the ground of that god forsaken junkyard. 

“i’m scared you’ll go away,” you told him one night, so desperately wishing now that you would’ve noticed the way he tensed ever so slightly. “like, one day, i’ll wake up and you’re not there anymore.” 

you remember how he leaned in, nose brushing against yours before pulling back slightly. “and where would i go that doesn’t have you in it?” he grinned, another bright fanged smile that eased every single worry out of your brain. and you decided in that moment, that keisuke was always going to be the one that held your heart in his hands. 

“marry me one day.” you replied and he laughed, before holding up his pinky to yours. “good. saying no wasn’t an option.” 

“figured.” 

but today is not a day to be caught in memories as the sun plummets below the horizon, as the sky shifts from a pretty magenta pink to inky black. feet bouncing off the pavement, you scurry over to his grave. you chastise yourself for being late today of all days, it was his birthday. 

“sorry!” you call out as you finally make it, hands on your knees as you suck precious air back into your lungs. “sorry i’m late, kei.” 

you do the usual of pouring water onto the tombstone, before you light a candle and spread the blanket beneath you, sitting cross-legged as you pull out the contents of your bag. “i got a little something extra today,” you say, eagerly pulling out the sealed little slice of cake you got at the bakery. “okay… so it looks a little fucked, but don’t mind that.” you giggle, before sighing.

“if you were here… what would you say?” you mumble to yourself, before putting on your best keisuke voice. “hah? it’s still edible isn’t it?... or something.” you nod as if in response to him, before tearing it open and setting it down. “chifuyu saw you earlier right? did he bring you something good? oh! and, i was looking at some of the cats at the pet shop earlier, they’re no peke j but, they’re still cute, y’know?” 

you always do this. you ramble and ramble, relaying your day to him as if he’s listening intently to you. sometimes, you’ll imagine when the two of you sat in his room, his lips quirked up into a smile as he nodded and listened to you. 

“the cake is good!” you exclaim, taking a bite. it’s fluffy, creamy, and sweet, it almost masks the saltiness of your tears that seep past your lips, onto your tongue and settle on your buds. 

almost.

“fuck- sorry. sorry for crying.” you use one hand to wipe away at your tears, the other holding onto your convenient plastic fork. it’s harder to breathe now, sobs wracking your body as your mind floods with “what ifs” once again. what if you had asked him to stay with you that day? what if you tried harder? what if you had noticed something was wrong sooner? could you have done anything? and what if-

lost in your thoughts you almost miss the familiar drawl that used to set your heart and soul on fire. “still a crybaby, eh?” 

you freeze, the fall breeze caressing your cheek as you sniffle and ever so slowly, turn. you must have been hearing things, you think, as there’s nothing there but the other stone graves and the leaves on the wind. 

“maybe i am losing my fucking mind...” you mutter, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, “i should look into therapy.” 

you shake your head, a little spooked. it’s getting later by the moment, the only light nearby being the candle, a warm-orange flame surrounded by night. you lean over to blow it out, but stop, feeling that you should stay a bit longer. not only are you late, but it’s keisuke’s day, it wouldn’t be right to leave so soon. you frown, before settling back in place. 

“anyways, what was i saying?” you hum, taking another scoop of your dessert. “something-“

“something about the new cats at chifuyu’s shop right?” that familiar voice sounds again, closer this time, tickling the shell of your ear. 

you immediately jerk around and almost pass out at what you see. crouched down and smiling, that familiar wolfy grin is keisuke, looking just like you remembered. from the way his long, inky hair frames his face to the vivid carmine of his eyes, it’s keisuke. 

“hey, continue the story baby, i was listening.” he gestures to the cake on your fork, slipping off the utensil from the shakiness of your hands. “lemme have a bite?” 

you’re snapped from your stupor when he finally touches you, cold fingers lightly guiding your hand upward towards his mouth. you immediately scramble back, the cake falling onto the blanket below. 

“kitten,” he says, frowning at the mess, “y’know i hate wasting food.” the pet name almost sends you into a spiral, the way it falls off his tongue so easily, just like he always used to say it, almost like it was your name at times. 

“you’re not real.” you whisper, shaking your head slightly, the words trapped behind the door of your brain unleashing in that moment. “i’m hallucinating. i have to be.” 

he inches towards you as you continue to crawl back, back hitting the cold gray stone. keisuke leans in, snuffing out the candle between his fingers first before redirecting his attention to you. he’s so close you’re sure he can feel your breath, but the odd thing is, you can’t feel his.

“if i wasn’t real…” he starts, inching in so close your noses just barely touch, just a hair widths away, “could i do this?” he kisses you then, just barely holding back his deep fervent need to snatch you up and take you home. wherever that was. 

it’s strange, baji’s cold, nearly ice, and yet you feel the familiar rush of warmth through your veins that once bloomed so deeply in your heart, that everything suddenly does feel real. the two of you stay like that for a few moments and when he pulls away you lean in again, snatching him by the collar to press another kiss to the lips that you missed so much. 

baji’s wolfish grin plays on his face in between the kisses you continue to plant against his lips and his skin, alternating between his cheeks and jawline. “yeah, yeah, i missed you too, you big crybaby.” he laughs, cupping your face to swipe at the tears that fall freely once again. 

you whine when he forces you to pull off, bringing your hands up to his, almost as if you’re sure he’ll run off again and be gone by morning. “you’re really keisuke? …this isn’t a joke?” you shake your head as you ask, hiccuping and trying your best to heave in gulps of air. 

“yeah, it’s me.” he answers, the crinkle of his eyes never leaving. 

but you just don’t get it. how is baji here and not well, six-feet under? almost as if he can read your mind he speaks, “i’m not really sure how it happened either.” he starts, releasing you and staring down at his palms, opening and closing them, almost as if he’s also in a daze. “i shouldn’t be here, i know that. i made sure i wouldn’t and yet, i woke up not too long after that day.” he lifts his shirt up and you wince in anticipation, but there’s nothing where the old stab wound should be, like it never happened. 

hesitantly, you place your hand flat against the area, before your fingertips trace the outline where it should be. you exhale deeply before speaking again, “how come you only showed up now?” 

he gives you a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of his neck, as the hem of his shirt falls back into place. “well… i had to sort of figure things out. dunno how well received i would’ve been if i just showed up after my own funeral.” he jokes, but you glare at him. 

“do you have any idea at all how badly that fucked me up?” you ask, remembering the countless nights you spent staring up at your bedroom walls so utterly exhausted from crying or the days you spend in a haze, trying your best to get through the day. you won’t lie, you’ve been so angry since that day. endlessly lonely, endlessly empty, and just when you thought you’d be able to get over it, he shows up like it wasn’t that big of a deal. 

“well, i watched you a lot.” he admits, gazing around the cemetery. “you come here every single day, you cry every single time, even when you say you’re not going to. you’ve cursed me out in death more times than i can count and i think you’ve tried every single type of peyoung soba. you, chifuyu, and kazutora have only come here together a handful of times and everytime one of you ends up drunk crying.” he snorts, before continuing, “you sleep with my hair ties under your pillow and almost had the balls to ask my mom for my toman jacket, multiple times.she would’ve said yeah, by the way. every evening you say goodnight to me and that you love me.” 

he grins when you sit there, mouth agape, and asks, “did i miss anythin’?” 

you shake your head, “but what now? i still don’t get why you came here today?” 

he shrugs, “i’ve got a question for ya.” but his expression is serious now, the shift in his features making you nervously fidget with your hands. but before you can look away, he tilts your head towards him, the other hand intertwining with yours, locking you in place. “you still wanna be with me forever?” 

your heart pounds in your chest, almost alarmingly so, as you gaze at him with lidded eyes while your voice is light, fluttering back up to him and relaying the answer he’s been waiting to hear. “of course, keisuke.”

“and you’d do anything? …let me do anything?” he questions further, squeezing when you nod your head. 

you’d let me turn you?

and you’re aware now, what it is he’s asking. and maybe, you think it’s because you centered so much of you life around him, that leaving it behind doesn’t sound too bad. if you were the clouds, then baji was the sky, always trying to stay in that space so intrinsically bound to one another that only death could have separated you. 

he never said the word, but he didn’t really need to. what was the one thing that could have escaped death like this?  what else was he but a vampire? 

“okay,” he sighs, “if you’re sure.”

“more than ever.” you state. 

keisuke is fast, picking you up and into his arms. naturally, you wrap yours around his neck, a part of you still thinking that this must be a dream. 

“well, there’s no way we’re gonna do it in some freakin’ cemetery.” he jokes and you giggle. if his heart could beat, he’s sure it’d flutter just as fast as yours. 

“hey are you gonna turn chifuyu?” you ask, blinking up at him, “or tora?” 

“you think they’d wanna hang out with us? for eternity?” he asks, picking up the pace as he walks.

“hmm, maybe you’re right. besides, takemichi’s gonna miss them too much right?” you continue, the breeze kissing your now dried cheeks. 

“don’t forget mikey.” he adds, before continuing, “well, it’s not like we can’t visit sometime.” 

you nod, placing your head on his shoulder, “not too soon though, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.” 

he smiles at you as he answers, “don’t worry. we’ve got all the time in the world.” 

as the two of you leave, you peek back towards the lights of the city, becoming smaller and smaller with each step. and you wonder how upset chifuyu’ll be tomorrow when he finds your half-eaten cake, spread out on an already forgotten blanket. 

[wizardofrozz]

Promise?

Hunter x fem!reader, Tech, Phee, and Omega

Word Count: ~4.8k

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, smut (this is basically just filth), slight exhibitionism, Tech being a menace

A/N: This fic has killed me in more ways than one but I’m excited to finally share it. The prompt "Don’t make promises you can’t keep. So beg.” came from @homie-one-kenobi and I want to thank her and @techs-feral-wife and @a-single-tulip again for all their help with this ❤️ 

You had come to know the many sides of Hunter over the years. You knew Sergeant CT-9901, the fierce and loyal soldier of the Republic. You knew Sergeant Hunter, the leader and brother his siblings needed to make it through battle after battle. You knew him as a mercenary, struggling with his place in a galaxy overrun with injustice. More recently, you got to know Hunter as a father, watching the way Omega’s presence started to heighten his affectionate side. But this new side of Hunter was doing something to you.

You truly hadn’t meant for things to escalate beyond innocent affection. But then a look lasted a little too long, your hand lingering on Hunter’s lower back when you brushed past him, standing just a little too close when you spoke. They had been unconscious movements, faint urges to be close to him or to just admire his profile in the warm sunlight until the tension was almost unbearable. There was something about being on Pabu that made it feel impossible to keep your focus and hands off of Hunter. 

He seemed calmer, shoulders looking less tense and his smile lingering for longer than normal. And now, standing at the kitchen sink after cleaning up dinner, you found yourself admiring him again. Hunter had his back to you, his hair moving with the breeze rolling off the ocean as he stared out at the dying rays stretching across lower Pabu. It had become a routine for him recently, leaning against the half-wall outside the small house just as the sun started to dip below the horizon.

It may not have been as apparent to anyone else, but you could see that there was a tightness about his shoulders, something you recognized as a sign that something was bothering him. You moved toward the doorway, pondering if you should interrupt him when the sound of hurried footsteps stopped you short. You glanced down just as Omega appeared beside you, a bright smile on her face and you weren’t sure if you were going to like whatever was going to come out of her mouth. 

“I’m gonna go night fishing with Wrecker, okay?” That wasn’t what you were expecting but it was better than her coming to tell you Wrecker had knocked a light fixture off the low ceiling…again. 

“Fine by me, kiddo,” you replied with a smile. Despite still having his back to the dwelling, you knew Hunter had heard her and when he didn’t move to object, you winked at the young clone. “Catch me something big.” 

“Okay!” Omega cheered, barely finishing the word before she took off in the direction of the docks. You watched her with a soft smile, silently thanking Wrecker and Phee for giving you a few precious hours of privacy with Hunter.

“I hope you have your comm!” Hunter called, turning his head in Omega’s direction. She was too far for you to hear her response but you assumed the answer was yes when Hunter stayed quiet. As the last wisps of light disappeared, Hunter turned to face you, the gentle breeze tussling his hair and blowing a few strands into his eyes as he closed the short distance.

“You okay?” you asked softly, lightly trailing your hand down the curve of his bicep. Hunter made a soft rumbling sound in response as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and tucked his face against your neck. The soft gesture had you melting, your arms wrapping around his narrow waist; you went still when his chest expanded with a long, deep breath.

“You sweat more here,” he noted, his voice muffled against your skin. Your lashes fluttered, your brain scrambling to understand where the conversation was going while simultaneously trying not to get offended by the comment.

“Well, yeah, it’s a tropical island, Hunter,” you huffed, brows pinching together in confusion. You pulled away from him, expecting to meet his eyes only to realize he wasn’t looking at your face. The intensity of his stare had you taking stock of your body, realizing a second too late that you could feel a bead of sweat rolling down the side of your neck. It was nearly impossible to differentiate between his pupils and his irises as they followed the curve of your neck. 

Hunter closed the gap again, hugging you close as the tip of his nose came to rest just under your ear. Your mouth dropped open at the slow drag of his tongue across your skin, retracing the path your sweat had just taken. 

“Did I say it was a bad thing?” he breathed, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. The air left your lungs in a quiet wheeze, every nerve ending suddenly hyper-aware of Hunter pressed up against you. You gasped, stumbling over your feet when he started walking you backward into the blessedly empty house. “Wanted to get my attention today, huh?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, curling your fingers around his belt.

“Must’ve thought you were cute with all that teasing today too,” he huffed, trailing kisses down the length of your neck.  

“I wasn’t teasing,” you argued, knowing damn well what those leading touches did to him. “I just like being close to you.” The faint graze of teeth against your jaw made you shiver, your grip on his belt tightening.

“Don’t play coy, sweetheart,” he chided lightly, his lips barely brushing against the side of your neck. You jumped slightly when your tailbone bumped into the edge of the dining room table, Hunter crowding you against the cool stone slab. His arms fell away from your shoulders, dropping down to curl around your waist as he pressed his face against your neck again, breathing deeply.  

“Won’t happen again,” you sighed, doing your best to calm your racing heart, “I promise.”

“Mm don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Hunter hummed, kissing his way across your exposed shoulder. “Clearly you wanted something from me.”

“Well, I always want you,” you replied, letting your head roll back as he left a mark at the base of your neck. A soft moan slipped out when you rolled your hips, searching for any kind of friction.

“Tell me exactly what you want, mesh’la,” Hunter encouraged, pressing the outline of his cock into your hip.

“Easy,” you chuckled a little breathlessly, “your cock.”

“Well, if you want it, really want it…beg for it.” His voice raised goosebumps across your skin, the husky edge making your cheeks burn. Begging wasn’t a new request for you or him, but you had been wound so tight all day, aching for the tiniest bit of his attention. Now that you had it…you weren’t sure how long you could play this game. 

Hunter kissed up your neck and across your cheek, only to pause at the corner of your mouth, one of his hands moving to cup the back of your head. He kissed you with an urgency that made his earlier threat lose some of its weight and you almost giggled. Hunter put on a good show, years of learning to manage his senses would do that, but you could still tell he was struggling. The faint tremor in his hands, the harshness of his breathing, and the subtle movement of his hips gave away just how tightly wound you had managed to get him.

So of course, you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to try and sway him, carefully moving one hand to his belt buckle. A strong, warm hand clamped down around your wrist, stopping you just short of your goal, your frustrated whine morphing into a gasp when he nipped at your bottom lip. 

“You know the rules,” Hunter warned, bumping his nose against yours but pulling away when you tried to capture his lips again. You stifled an exasperated sigh and let your head drop, resting your forehead against his chin as you tried to catch your breath. Now that Hunter wasn’t consuming every one of your senses, you were keenly aware of the hard line of his cock pressing into your leg. You were almost mad at yourself for not exploiting his weakness for your mouth. 

“I do,” you agreed, managing to coax him into one more languid kiss. Hunter sputtered when you suddenly broke the kiss, but it quickly morphed into a huff of surprised laughter when you sank to your knees. You didn’t give him the chance to argue, expertly unclipping the straps around his thighs before reaching for his belt buckle. Movement above your head had you looking up to find Hunter’s eyes locked onto your face, pupils wide and endless as he tossed his vambrace onto the table behind you. 

The belt dropped to the floor with a thud, and there was a moment where you were almost disappointed that you wouldn’t get to undress him yourself. The soft gasp he let out when you finally got his pants undone somewhat made up for it. You pushed his pants off, waiting until he kicked them aside before sitting forward on your knees, your mouth watering as you let your tongue loll out, putting on a show. The response was immediate and exactly what you wanted. Hunter’s jaw went slack, a harsh exhale whistling past his lips as he gripped the base of his cock, and your eyes caught the metallic twinkle of his piercing just under the head before he was sliding it through the saliva pooling on your tongue. The groan that tore from his chest was straight out of a wet dream, sending a chill down your spine. You may have been the one on your knees, but Hunter was putty in your hands.

“You–you did this on purpose,” Hunter rumbled in between pants. His breath hitched when you pulled your tongue back, closing your lips around him. You hummed in response, startling a sharp cry from Hunter, his hand shooting up to grip your hair, gently coaxing you to take more of him. You looked up the length of his body, finding his head thrown back, and admired the taunt lines of his throat that flexed when he swallowed. 

As if he could feel your gaze, his head dropped down, chin almost resting against his heaving chest. You paused when he threatened to hit the back of your throat, forcing yourself not to gag as you stared up at him with half-lidded eyes. He was the embodiment of sin like this: the muscles of his abdomen clenched and unclenched sporadically, his inked chest jumping with stunted breaths, and the dim light threw shadows over the tattooed side of his face, making his features look sharper. Staring down at you like this, Hunter looked dangerous, almost predatory. 

You breathed deeply through your nose before lazily starting to bob your head, pausing long enough to gently run your tongue over the piercing on the underside of his cock before sinking back down. Hunter’s quiet groans quickly escalated into whimpers, each rough, unhindered sound made your clit throb, begging for even the slightest bit of friction.

The hand fisted in your hair loosened and you slowed your pace, eyes following his hand as it came down to cup your jaw. Your exhale rushed through your nose when his thumb traced your lower lip, spreading the spit leaking from the corner of your lips down your chin. The look in his eyes was addicting, the genuine wonderment mingling with adoration almost made you falter. You suddenly wanted nothing more than to watch him come undone like this, spilling down your throat as his face twisted with pleasure.

Hunter’s half-lidded eyes were still trained on you, although he didn’t seem to notice your hand moving. His thighs tensed when you gently cupped his balls, but you didn't stop there. You very lightly press on the skin just behind them, causing his mouth to drop open, letting out an involuntary whine.

“St - stop,” he keened, a high, sharp sound you weren’t aware he could even make. You froze, blinking a few times as he panted, jerking his hips back until he slid out of your mouth. There was a moment of silence, Hunter struggling to catch his breath, leaving you to watch the way his cock throbbed in his hand.

“Why’d you stop?” you prodded, your voice sounding rougher than usual. A smirk lifted the corner of your lips, knowing that he was seconds away from spilling down your throat, something he usually indulged in.

“Why do you think?” Hunter grunted, sucking in a deep breath as he pushed his bandana higher, keeping his hair out of his face. Once his impending orgasm had seemed to recede, his hand started to move in slow, smooth strokes; it was pretty fucking close to torture for you and he knew it. You tried to lean closer, parting your lips in hopes of enticing him enough that he’d play nice; his free hand snagged your jaw, keeping you just out of reach. 

“Hunter,” you whined, looking through your lashes. It was clear that his restraint was slipping, given away only by the way he chewed on the inside of his cheek. It felt like lava had replaced your blood, pumping a dizzying heat through your veins, your clit aching for any kind of attention, although you knew how this game went. Your plan wasn’t working in your favor, at all, but you were too invested now, no matter how borderline painful it was. 

You gently pushed against his hold on your face, an excited shiver racking your body when his grip gave a tiny bit. That dark, searing stare you had seen a thousand times cut through you, almost making you back out but you had started this. Hunter arched a brow when your tongue poked out again, his expression growing more intrigued, allowing you to move closer. Finding that little piece of metal was muscle memory at this point, the tip of your tongue flicking over the bar under his skin. Hunter choked on a gasp, his hips jerking forward in a desperate, unconscious movement that pressed the bar into your tongue. 

You traced the shape, looking through your lashes to watch the dark ink covering his chest shift with each ragged breath. A hand suddenly gripped your hair and you caught the warning in his dark gaze. He partly lifted, partly guided you to your feet, immediately pressing you into the edge of the table. There was a pause, his parted lips hovering just out of reach, a wild look in his eyes. 

He held your gaze, daring you to look away as his hands slid under the hem of your shirt, pushing the fabric higher until it bunched up around the band of your bra. You automatically lifted your arms, shivering when he hooked his thumbs under the band, and slowly pulled the two pieces of fabric up over your head, carelessly tossing them aside. A shiver shook your shoulders, sending you shuffling closer to him, hoping to steal some of his warmth, bringing a half-smile to his face. 

“Gorgeous,” Hunter breathed, one of his hands cupping your breast. He caught your lips again before lightly tweaking your nipple, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth when your jaw dropped open. Each movement was precise as you slowly came unraveled, pushing you toward what he wanted in the first place. 

Your body acted on instinct, your stance widening when Hunter pressed closer. The position was all wrong but you were too caught up in the feel of his hands on your skin to notice. Your hands came to rest on his chest, your nails sinking into muscle when he slid his cock between your thighs. The slow drag against your folds forced a slightly frustrated groan past your lips and your hips subconsciously matched his rhythm. He coated himself in your arousal, his breathing getting heavier with each lazy thrust until the need to have him inside you was almost maddening.  

“Hunter,” you whispered against his lips. But you already knew the pleading tone in your voice wouldn’t be enough. “Please.”

“Please what, sweetheart?” he pressed, tracing the shape of your nipple at an infuriatingly slow pace. 

“Quit being an ass,” you whined, bumping your forehead against his. 

“Should’ve thought about that earlier,” he said with a faint shrug, moving away from your mouth to kiss along your jaw. He hesitated near your ear, sliding his free hand up your side to gently knead your other breast, humming when you pressed into his touch. “Come on, sweetie. Give me what I want and I’ll bend you over this table and fuck you like I know you’re aching for.” 

“Fuck,” you hissed, accepting that it was time to swallow the tiny bit of pride you were hanging onto. Hunter’s touch was feather-like as he trailed his fingers down your stomach, the anticipation making you dizzy. Your entire body tense when he pressed the pad of his thumb directly onto your clit, just holding it there and you waited for the starburst of pleasure only for nothing to happen. The pressure wasn’t enough, acting solely as a reminder of what he wanted from you and you almost wanted to cry in frustration. You arched into his hand, attempting to grind against him one last time before giving in. “Please, Hunter. I want to forget everything that isn’t your name. I want to sit down tomorrow at breakfast and remember the way you felt inside me.”

He groaned against the curve of your neck, the feather-like graze of his teeth acting as just a taste of what was to come. “Oh, you filthy thing,” he breathed, tracing your jugular with the tip of his nose, “bend over for me. Let me see how bad you want it.” 

You were clumsy in your desperation, your arms hitting the tabletop a little harder than you had intended. You expected to feel Hunter at your back, strong hands gripping your hips, but there was nothing but cool, evening air. After a few more seconds, you looked over your shoulder but he wasn’t looking at your face. His attention was fixated on your glistening pussy, dark eyes watching it desperately clench as he lazily stroked himself. Seeing him pleasuring himself at the sight of you made the trembling you had kept under control become known. 

“Hunter,” you whined, pressing your chest closer to the table, and pushing your ass out. 

“You look good like this,” he mused, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smug smirk. There was a charged silence that followed as you tried not to fidget under his heavy gaze. Just as you were about to turn your head, the sound of him spitting made you freeze, your lashes fluttering until you heard the sound of his spit-slicked hand returning to its previous slow pace. 

“Yeah, well I’d look a lot better with your cock inside me,” you bit back, the bone-deep need to feel him making your teeth grind in frustration. You met his eyes over your shoulder, batting your lashes and it seemed to work when his jaw flexed. Hunter held your gaze as he closed in on you, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in your scent. 

“Can’t say I disagree, cyare,” he rumbled, his hand following the curve of your spine. The grip on the back of your neck made you freeze, not even daring to breathe too deeply as he leaned over you, the length of his cock sliding against your soaked folds. Your mouth fell open in a soundless cry when the blunt tip pushed in and Hunter paused, a stunted gasp rushing past his lips when you tensed. The next movement had your breath catching, the brush of metal making your knees weak.

“Every time,” Hunter chuckled breathlessly, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. He didn’t speed up, splitting you open at an agonizing pace and all you could do was take it. A shaky breath puffed against your shoulder when his hips met your ass, his teeth grazing your shoulder. Your eyes rolled back when the rigid metal of his piercing kissed your g-spot and you trembled under his weight. Using the grip on the back of your neck, he pulled you off the table, making you suddenly aware of how soothing the stone had been on your sweltering skin. 

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pressing himself even deeper, forcing a sound out of you that was somewhere between a gasp and moan while his other arm curled around your chest. You dropped your head against his shoulder, enticing him to cup one of your breasts. A stillness settled around you, leaving you with no option but to just stand there, stuffed and shivering with anticipation. Your inhale synced with his, the only warning you had before Hunter started to roughly grind against your ass. 

You moaned softly, turning your face toward him, panting against his cheek, and forcing your eyes open when his thrusts slowed considerably. It took a few seconds for your eyes to focus, your lashes fluttered when you noticed that his attention was fixed on something across the room. 

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, doing your best to ignore the head-spinning girth of his cock filling you. 

“Look,” he breathed, coming to a stop seated inside you. It took more effort than you wanted to admit to lift your head, letting it roll lazily as you searched for whatever had his attention. It took a few seconds of searching the room before your eyes landed on the window looking out over Pabu. The reflection was dark, barely more than an outline, but you were suddenly just as transfixed as Hunter. You could see the outline of his broad shoulders, the way he wrapped himself around you, his silhouetted face hovering beside yours.

“Mm, we look good,” you purred, grinding back against him as you reached up to tangle your fingers in his hair. You watched his eyes slam shut, his brows pinching together with a soft moan. You looked past your reflection at the twinkle of lights, a thought hitting you. “I wonder if anyone can see us?” Hunter’s head dropped slightly as he throbbed inside you, sending a chill racing across your skin. Of course he liked that idea. 

“I want you to watch too,” Hunter ordered softly, jerking his hip and punching a choked-off moan out of you. “I want you to watch yourself cum on my cock.” Your playful undertone fizzled out, his command rumbling against your back. And who were you to disobey an order like that? 

“Yes, sir,” you breathed, keeping your eyes glued to your shared reflection. Hunter growled against your ear, jerking his hips forward until the barbell on the underside of his cock pressed deliciously into your g-spot. 

“Cheeky today,” he mused, holding himself perfectly still for a moment before pulling out to just the tip. “Keep your eyes on the window, sweetheart.” He didn’t give you a chance to respond, starting a measured pace that had you seeing stars with every thrust. Keeping your eyes open took every ounce of brainpower you could spare as your quiet gasps turned into pathetic mewls. You watched Hunter’s lips pull back in a snarl before his head dropped onto your shoulder, muffling his groans. 

“Talk–talk to me, cyare,” he panted, readjusting his grip on your breast to tweak your nipple. 

“Fuck,” you gasped when he pulled your hips away from the table, hitting that devastating spot with expert precision. You scrambled for something to hold onto, your nails digging into the back of the hand wrapped around your waist. Gritting your teeth, you desperately tried to piece together a sentence, anything to express your desires. “I-I want you to cum so hard I can feel you pulsing inside me.” The hand you had tangled in his curls closed, tugging hard enough to startle a whine from the back of his throat. 

“Keep - fuck - keep going,” Hunter rasped, his thrust growing harsher. You tried to catch your breath, forcing your eyes to focus on the faint outline of your bodies. Each snap of his hips made your breasts bounce and you released Hunter’s hair, moving to cover his hand that was still cupping one of them. 

“I-I love…I love your strong hands all over me,” you breathed, squeezing his hand to tighten his grip. You were searching for any bit of stimulation to tip the scales but even the brush of his calloused hands against your sensitive nipple wasn’t enough. You teetered on the edge, doing your best to meet his thrusts, trying to arrange your hazy thoughts when Hunter finally took pity on you. 

“Touch yourself,” he ordered, pressing down on your stomach, “I know you need it.” Blood rushed in your ears, the added pressure on your stomach intensifying the inferno already growing there. You somehow managed to find your target, your back arching when you started frantically circling your clit, chasing the pleasure making the edges of your vision fuzzy. 

“Ah–fuck,” Hunter whimpered, his thrusts faltering as your walls fluttered as the pleasure peaked. “So–so close, please–please cum for me.” The barely concealed desperation in his voice is what sent you hurtling over the edge, your entire body locking up as you sobbed his name. You almost didn’t register his orgasm through the blinding pleasure until the sharp sensation of teeth clamping down on your shoulder snapped you back into your body, another wave of pleasure washing over you. 

It all bled together, white-hot and all-consuming ecstasy as a few tears slipped out from the corners of your eyes. You sagged forward, pulling Hunter down with you until your flushed skin met the welcome relief of the cool tabletop. Hunter managed to catch himself on one arm so he didn’t crush you, his forehead coming to rest against your sweaty shoulder blade. The thought of just melting to the floor occurred to you but his extra weight kept you pinned in place as your legs trembled with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You turned your head enough to bump your temples against his chin in an affectionate little headbutt that earned you a soft, broken laugh. 

Just as you started to regain some semblance of higher motor function, the shrill beeping of Hunter’s com cut through the peaceful silence. You and Hunter snapped to attention, finding his discarded vambrace a few inches away. When he didn’t make a move to grab it you stretched across the table, gasping when his soft cock shifted inside your sensitive cunt. You ignored the exasperated look he sent you, holding the armor in front of his face. He shot you one more unimpressed look before tapping the button, resting more of his weight on you. 

“Huh?” he grunted, clearly expecting one of his brothers. 

“Ah, I take it you’re finished with your procreational activities.” You blinked down at the flashing device, a little surprised to hear Tech’s voice; it took a few seconds for you to register what he had said.

“Tech,” you started, hoping you didn’t sound as nervous as you felt, “how did you know that’s, uh, what we were doing.”

“Well, if you had bothered to look out the window, you would have no need to ask,” Tech stated matter-of-factly. Your stomach dropped and you stiffened at the same time Hunter did; he shifted a bit, covering more of your body with his. 

“Get away from the window, Tech,” Hunter all but growled.

“Apologies. The concept that someone could be watching you appeared not to bother you mere minutes ago,” Tech countered, an unusually mischievous tone to his voice that you wouldn’t have noticed if you didn’t know him as well as you did. 

“Tech,” Hunter warned in that special tone he saved just for his little brother. 

“Come on, brown eyes, let them get decent,” was muffled through the com but you recognized Phee’s voice immediately. When she spoke again she sounded closer which you hoped meant she had pulled Tech away. “Oh and don’t worry, we just got here.”

“Wonderful,” you huffed, dropping your head onto the table.

“Goodbye,” Hunter snapped, disconnecting the call with a bit more force than necessary. The silence that followed was tense, Hunter still rigid behind you as you blinked at the lifeless comlink. 

You felt the soft vibration of his laugh against your back first, the sensation growing as the seconds passed until Hunter hid his face against your shoulder. Feeling his amusement only made it harder to contain your own until you both broke. Your combined laughter was breathless and giddy and you leaned into it, savoring the rare moment of unadulterated joy with the man you had grown to love. 

Even if it came about because Tech was an absolute bastard.

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