#encouraging her to have fun at a party. trying to get her to slow down on her alcohol intake. and leaving her in the bathroom

[kurokoros]

I want to argue about this, but ST fandom Reddit users have rocks for brains, so I’d rather have tumblr people be salty with me instead 😂

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Wonder Woman would include

The thought of dating Diana is overwhelming. She’s gorgeous, smart, and a total sweetheart as well as an actual goddess. Everyone wants a chance with her. If you manage to get her attention and impress her, you’ll be lucky enough to spend time with an amazing woman and witness her genuine love and care — it’s definitely worth the effort. If you do ask her out, make it a special date that shows your appreciation for her unique, kind personality. She deserves nothing less, and you’ll always have a story to tell later on.

She's very fun and loving. She's the light that keeps those around her going, always spreading joy and happiness and looking to make everyone smile, she loves all sorts of fun things – shopping, going out with friends, and just living life to the fullest. Diana cares about the people in her life and always goes above and beyond to make them feel good.

Diana’s romantic side is kind and sweet. As a passionate woman, she is caring and protective of those she cares for and is never afraid to show how much she feels. She’s a hopeless romantic at heart and loves making romantic gestures and being swept off her feet. If you're the kind of person who dreams of being spoiled with gifts and affection, you'll find an eager partner in her - she's the type to shower her partner with compliments and gifts, always doing what she can to make you happy.

Dating Wonder Woman is like having an endless sleepover with your best friend. It's a lot of fun and laughter, cuddling under a blanket and eating snacks together, sharing gossip, doing fun things like going to parties and getting into trouble, and having romantic moments that feel like straight out of a movie. When you're with her, you feel like you have someone who truly cares about you and is always there for you, ready to explore and be adventurous or snuggle down together whenever you need it.

As an adventurous spirit, Diana is up for trying anything (within reason) and enjoys going on spontaneous adventures with her partner. She's enthusiastic about trying new things together and doesn't mind stepping outside of her comfort zone when it comes to trying new things together. She loves exploring, experimenting, and trying new things - so if you're a homebody or have more traditional tastes, she might push you outside your comfort zone a bit. That said, she's not reckless and can definitely enjoy the quiet moments, too.

Her love language is words of affirmation. She likes to hear how much you love or appreciate her, as it gives her reassurance and helps her feel validated in the relationship. Being physically affectionate and having her loved one's attention is also something that brings her happiness. Your touch makes her feel loved and she always appreciates receiving affection. If you're the kind of person who loves being physically intimate with your partner, Diana will be the perfect match. Your words and physical affection bring her immense pleasure and satisfaction.

She’s also an affectionate person, who enjoys physical affection with her partner. However, she isn’t the type to jump right into a relationship. She likes to take it slow initially, especially when it comes to physical intimacy, but when she falls in love, she’s head over heels and willing to do whatever it takes to be close to her love. You need to be open-minded and understanding if this relationship is to work out. That being said, if you’re kind, patient, and willing to put in the work, you’ll find a devoted and loving companion in Diana.

She is a thoughtful person who is always thinking about other people. She is generous with her time and is always looking for ways to help others. She's a good listener and is known for being supportive, encouraging, and patient. If you're struggling with something, she's the kind of person who will sit down with you and work through it. She cares deeply for people and wants to see them succeed, so she'll do whatever she can to help them achieve their goals, whether it be giving them advice or offering a helping hand

She loves to take initiative. She enjoys making decisions and taking charge but always makes sure to take your opinions and feelings into account. She’s open to new and exciting ways to show and is always looking to try new experiences with you. She’s also great at expressing her love and needs through communication, and if she’s ever unhappy she’ll be sure to talk things out with you rather than let tension build.

She thinks a good date should involve learning about each other, spending time, and sharing your interests and hobbies. She personally enjoys training together and also sharing stories of your times fighting evil. It is important for both parties to give as well as receive. For herself, she finds it important for you to treat her with respect, understanding, and most importantly, love.

Even when at your lowest point, Diana will never give up on you. She's always there ready to provide comfort, support, and encouragement. With her warm, welcoming presence, you'll know that you're not alone in facing any challenge or issue, and her positive energy will be sure to lift your spirits. In addition to providing you with a warm, welcoming presence, Diana is also a very loving partner who will always make sure to express her feelings for you through physical affection as well, ensuring that you know you are loved and appreciated at all times.

When dating Diana, you will never have to deal with games or drama. She is a direct and honest person, always communicating her thoughts and feelings in a straightforward and sincere manner. She will always be open and transparent with you, and you can be assured that her affection for you will never be questioned or doubted. In addition, She will always go out of her way to make sure that you feel comfortable and protected, and can always be relied upon to stand up for you when needed.

Diana is the girlfriend you never want to leave the side of; she’ll make you feel complete, loved, and special. With her by your side, you’ll be surrounded by pure positivity, encouragement, and love. You’ll never walk away from a day with her feeling dull, drained, or like something is missing. Diana will add flavor, fun, and enjoyment to every moment spent together.

When dating Diana, expect the unexpected; she’ll keep you on your toes while also making you feel safe, secure, and loved. You’ll be treated to the most incredible date nights, the most electrifying surprises, and the most thrilling adventures. You’ll never have a dull moment dating her.

Don’t expect the honeymoon phase to end or wane; there will always be a spark and a flame of passion between you two, no matter how long you’ve dated. She’s the type of girlfriend that is in it for the long haul, and it shows in the time and effort she puts into making sure your relationship is strong and lasting.

You can expect to always be treated to romantic and fun dates that show how much she loves you. She’s the type of girlfriend that will make sure each date is special and memorable for you and make you feel like you’re the center of her world. Some favorite date ideas: Going on a picnic in the park, Hitting up a local ice cream or coffee shop, A visit to a local museum or gallery, or A trip to the beach or mountains

Diana is a confident and carefree person who doesn’t easily let jealousy or insecurity get in the way of her happiness. However, she’s also not a person to be messed with when it comes to matters of the heart. If you were ever to cross her or hurt her in any way, she would most likely confront you directly about it rather than letting you just get away with it. Although she is confident and self-assured.

Her usual favorite things to do with you are: Watching movies, tv shows, nor will she continue on without you. Snuggling together on the couch or bed while we watch something after a long day. Driving around to different spots around the city and enjoying the scenery together. Playing board/card games together. Going out to eat together and trying new foods and restaurants together.

Diana doesn’t fuck, she makes love. She’s slow, passionate, and good as hell at what she does. The two of you are very intimate. Your skin is always touching, and her face stays close to yours, her lips pressing against you.

She’s a fan of foreplay: the making out, the soft touches down each other’s backs and waists, the helping each other undress, etc. Generally, just the softness and romance that comes along with it.

She loves aftercare; making sure you have everything you need and stroking your hair as you cuddle into her. She enjoys watching you drift to sleep so delicately wrapped up in her arms.

8

9

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 1: The Heiress

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: The Mandalorian is off-kilter. This was an unusual job from the off, but it kept getting stranger.

He thought he would be picking up a spoiled little heiress. How she had ended up in the middle of an unsanctioned and bloody conflict, been taken prisoner, and held at an old empire sprawl, didn’t interest him enough to look into, frankly. But he was at least expecting a supplicant and willing thing that would fall to her knees and be grateful to be getting taken home.

Instead, it’s you.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), canon-typical violence, eventual smut/filth, post season 3, Reader is a rich runaway, also a badass, canon-typical violence, brief mentions of creeps with ill intentions, uhhhh please advise if there's more to add here thank you

A/N: Hi! I am completely new here. This is something I've been writing for myself to get out of a dire writing slump. But here, please enjoy. I thought it was going to end up being 12-15 chapters long, but nope (shocker). Completed on A03, I just got encouraged to share here. Also please note - to keep it low pressure for myself - I have taken almost no effort to research or fact check Star Wars canon, technical terms for ship mechanics, or space flight. But I think it still hangs together like the fun story it is meant to be (much like its inspiring text). Also I'm Australian, so the spelling is what it is. Thank you for reading!

--

Everything is blinding whiteness. White walls, white floors. Harsh white lighting strips disappear down endless corridors.

You wonder to yourself what it is about totalitarian thought that demands such sterility. It is colourless and uniform, you suppose. Even for a decommissioned military base, repurposed as a prisoner of war camp, the cold lonely veneer of the empire shines on.

The heavy restraints chafe at your wrists as you raise your arms, trying to shield against the glare. A rough hand tugs them back down.

‘Hey, hands in front, princess.’ The spittle-licked voice grates on you. Fine. You just want to get to a cell where you can think. Have a minute to figure some next steps. It can’t be much further.

But the hair has started to rise on the back of your neck. For some time now, your little party made up of you and your four-guard escort hasn’t passed an occupied cell. It’s like you’re in an entirely unused part of the facility. A tense inevitability settles in your gut.

One more turn and the spit-lick calls halt.

‘This place is as good as any, lads.’ He swipes his wrist against a random cell and you expect to be shoved in. But the four of them move with you.

‘What the fu—,’ you say as a hand cracks over your face.

‘It’s a lucky thing,’ the voice grunts over the sting ringing in your ears. ‘No timestamp was logged to the manifest for your release from processing, so you won’t be missed for a spell. This is a nice quiet spot so we can get to know you a little, princess.’

A white-hot rage simmers in your spine and you let it filter up into your brain to focus your senses. Hatred coils in your chest. You channel that to your limbs, breathing into the spaces where you’ll need strength and speed. Feeling prepared, you let the four of them crack gags and wait for a good moment.

A loud thump, five heads whip around, a laser blast turns the white shining walls red for just a moment, and chaos erupts.

‘Wh--!’ One of your scrubs drops to the floor, dead. The self-appointed leader stays in front of you, yelling at the other two to do something. They draw blasters and point as a dark and imposing figure swings around the doorway and, without pause, starts to take them apart. Fists and headbutts and a knee kicked in sends one sprawling. The other manages to get a shot off but it just plints off this… this knight’s armour? You’re not sure what you’re seeing.

The ‘leader’ has his blaster drawn, watching the fight, but is holding a rough hand to your shoulder, as if to keep himself between you and this attacker. Taking the opportunity, you swing the brace on your wrists around and clock him right under the jaw. As he reels, in one unified movement, you sweep a foot to help his descent to the ground and make to jam three rigid fingers into each of his kidneys, hoping to incapacitate. 

But you’ve been thrown off by this turn of events as well and just miss the second sweet spot. He manages to lunge to his feet again and grabs you by the throat to hurl you to the floor. You scramble to your knees and look up at the asshole staggering about in front of you. He squares up. Fear snakes through you as you sit back onto your heels. He rubs at his jaw while swinging the blaster around to point at you, face thunderous.

‘Waste of a fuckin—’ But he’s cut off by the large hole that appears in his chest. He makes a ‘wuh?’ at it before toppling sideways, revealing behind him the strange figure, who has a gauntleted hand pointed at the space where your would-be killer’s chest used to be.

On your knees, you gaze up at your apparent saviour.

He’s dazzling. He seems to be built entirely out of armour, weapons and munitions. A large, angular helmet completes the look; its dark T visor regards you while fingers absently punch at the other wrist’s bracer.

‘Are you hurt?’ A deep, modulated voice questions you.

You reach up to poke at your tender cheek.

‘Nothin’ serious,’ you confirm, moving to your feet. When he steps forward, you work to not shy back, letting him lift your restrained wrists and scrutinise them.

‘I will be able to remove these on my ship. Come with me.’ Your knight turns away, beckoning you to follow.

‘Ah, afraid not,’ you say. You rock on your toes, waiting for him to turn back.

‘What?’ A voice like flint.

‘That’s not happening.’ You sniff.

He doesn’t turn but he doesn’t keep walking.

‘Do you want out of here or not, girl?’ A snag of anger but largely calm, like he kind of doesn’t care about your answer one way or the other but it has been quite an inconvenience getting here. 

‘Of course I do.’

‘Then come with me.’

‘Can’t.’

Now he whirls and, hell, why is that so satisfying? He stalks toward you.

‘I am being paid well to bring you in alive and unharmed, but also by any means necessary. So, I am not above a use of force.’ That voice is doing specific things to your chest, and belly, and the apex of your thighs. ‘Come. With. Me.’

You push the dry mouth and racing heart to the side and lift your arms up, awkwardly showing him the underside of your restraints.

‘Afraid not,’ you repeat.

To his credit, he shuts up and looks, broad shoulders dropping some as he registers the issue.

‘Proximity lock,’ he mutters.

‘Proximity lock,’ you confirm. ‘Alive and unharmed, you said? Don’t reckon getting my hands blown off would count to that. Only getting these bad kids off via a control room or processing cell.’

‘These are outlawed.’ You stare at him.

‘This is an illegal pri—’

‘Yes, fine.’ He engages a holo map of the floor plan on the chunky piece of kit on his arm. Scanning.

‘This way,’ he brushes past you and strides on. 

You take a moment to stare at the bodies littered on the floor of the cell, then lean over one of them. It takes some doing but you get what you were after and stand to turn down the corridor. You give a small yelp of surprise before almost bumping straight into the stranger’s chest. Hells how did he sneak up like that?

‘What are you doing?’ he says, teeth obviously gritted tight under that shiny helm.

You hold up your prize.

‘These bracers should open most of the general control rooms, if we get lucky enough.’

You want to believe his mouth has fallen open in surprise, eyes widened, impressed with you. But you can’t see a thing, not even your own smirking reflection.

You make a ‘let’s go’ gesture and the two of you move on.

You stroll along beside the hulking figure, glancing sideways every minute or so. 

So, he’s being paid well to retrieve you, is he? That’s interesting.

Your earlier observation of the rows of vacant cells seems to extend to a lot of the base. How much of this place is actually in use? It increases your chances of finding an unattended control room, which is a bonus. You can’t wait to get these horrendous restraints off. Not designed for human wrists, the edges cut into your skin and inner divots scrape your bones. After using them just to take a swing at that leech, you’re pretty sure there’s bleeding. 

You push the discomfort away and decide to say something.

‘Empty, isn’t it?’ That’s the best you got, is it? Hells.

‘It is at a little under a fifth capacity,’ he responds quickly.

‘Right.’ You fall quiet again. You’re almost grateful when the two of you round yet another turn and six guard helmets swivel toward you. Less awkward.

‘Hey! Stop!’ one yells. They each push off the wall they’d been lounging against and reach for sidearms.

Your companion gives you a hard shove back around the corner.

You stumble against the wall but right yourself. At first, you think it best to stay put. But the sounds of grunts and blows raining down draws you to the edge of the wall. Leaning around the corner to look, your mouth falls open in awe. 

The man is a cyclone.  

One goon has barely started reeling from a punishing blow when the next is being pulled into a deathly throw. Limbs are jerked and snapped back and forth and any blow one of them happens to land is shrugged off with so much ease.

It’s incredible to witness.

Fortunately you’re not so distracted that you don’t spot one of them, conveniently close to where you’re crouched, hurriedly trying to get a shock prod started. The poor sap is panicking as his brethren get decimated.

This is foolish, but you’re doing it anyway. You check that your ally is not looking – he isn’t, focused on driving a vibroblade somewhere soft and fatal – and sneak up to the guy’s back. You raise your arms and whip them down across his shoulders, wincing at the impact; it’s mostly ineffectual and you slink back.

He starts, turns, sees you trying to duck out of sight, and makes his advance.

‘Come ‘ere, little one,’ he spits as he rounds the corner, leering at you with some relish. You take timid little steps back until he’s fully in the hallway, and then you give him a devilish grin.

You wait for his lunge to grab at you and slide to your knees, ducking his pawing hands and spinning to make a 180 to finish behind him. As you pass his centre of gravity you shove your shoulder hard into his hips and he slams into the wall. Hopping to your feet in one fluid motion, you have your foot high and burying itself in his chin before he rights himself. In a stroke of luck, you manage to kick his helmet clean off in the same move.

His neck whips back and he gives a cry of pain, slumping on the wall. Just as he surges back to his feet, you’ve spun another pirouette and have the heel of your other foot ready to meet the bridge of his nose. It connects with a satisfying crunch matched a second later by the back of his skull smacking the wall again.

He wilts to the floor, moaning. You drop a knee onto his exposed neck, pull his sidearm from the holster and release one quick blast. He jolts and falls still. 

You drop the pistol and listen. Grunting and crunching metal still echoes around the bend.

Now think, idiot. Get rid of the body.

These old places have those floor level garbage units, right? For the old, tiny droids that would roll around, hoovering up whatever. You edge along the wall, toeing at gaps and latch-looking things. Ah ha. Damn, what luck. The door pops open in one smooth motion. You drop to your knees and shove the dead weight with all your strength. He slides along the floor and flops into the space in the wall. You kick the blaster, broken helmet and abandoned shock prod in after him and nudge the door closed.

The sounds of fighting have stopped. You flop back against the wall and try to look meek and afraid. Either he rounds the corner and you’re safe, or one of the guards does and you’d like to try the same trick again.

It’s him to walk into view, taking in your stature. You put on an air of relief and peer back around the corner.

You whistle low.

‘Five against one, huh? You said you were being paid well and I sure hope that’s true.’ You dash off, eager to get out from under his watchful visage.

After a moment, he follows.

--

The Mandalorian feels off-kilter. This was an unusual job from the off, but it kept getting stranger. 

An obscenely wealthy broker had approached looking to hire him to rescue a niece. Din Djarin did not do rescues. And he had said as much. But the price was something else, and the Razor Crest wasn’t getting new tilt suspension on his present takings.

He thought he would be picking up a spoiled little heiress. How she had ended up in the middle of an unsanctioned and bloody conflict, been taken prisoner, and held at an old empire sprawl, didn’t interest him enough to look into, frankly. But he was at least expecting a supplicant and willing thing that would fall to her knees and be grateful to be getting taken home. 

Instead, it’s you. 

He thinks back.

She was on her knees when the little skirmish ended. He hadn’t noticed the girl shift from the wall he’d first clocked her pushed back against, but when he dropped the third guard and spun to the head honcho, finishing him without grace, there she was. The bootlick he’d run through had tipped sideways to reveal his quarry seated against the gleaming white floor, looking up at him with a fading fear and emerging astonishment. 

It was a sight.

Quarry is not exactly the right word, he reflects. Just another thing pushing him out of alignment. What does he call her? How does he think about her?

She’d understood the nature of those cuffs of hers, where had she picked that up? And she didn’t seem to shrink at all from his taciturn demeanour.

Then that second fight with that sorry lot. He would have sworn on the sacred forge itself there had been six of them. But when the fifth body dropped and he’d reared back to take the last to a blunt-force grave, the hall was still. He found the girl tucked around the corner where he’d shoved her, curled into the wall, hands awkwardly shielding her face. He was good at reading people and the act she was putting on dropped the moment she looked at his handiwork. Then it was nothing but amusement in those eyes.

She’d scrambled to her feet and hopped over the bodies, carrying on. Din had stared hard down the hall she’d apparently cowered in, nothing but blank walls and empty air.

--

Finally, finally, your wrists are released with a soft hiss. You look in dismay at the lacerations and bruises littering your skin and pull the jumpsuit sleeves over them quickly. 

Your present company makes no indication he’s noticed, focused on the holo hovering over his arm. 

‘There is an entrance to disused tunnels in the next section over. From there, it is not far to my ship,’ he says. ‘This way.’

This time, you follow without hesitating, eager to get away from this abysmal place. 

Despite saying it wasn’t far, it is a silent, awkward walk out of there. You attempt a few turns at conversation, but each time he gives you a concise unpunctuated sentence that concludes questioning. 

You’re mulling over the long, boring journey back to your home system – the ramifications of which you staunchly push to back of mind – when your terse rescuer’s ship comes into view.

You halt in your tracks, gazing up at the lovely, old gunship. Battered, bruised and brimming with elegant age. ‘Wow…’ you say softly.

He’s taken a few steps beyond you before registering your pause and turning back. You sense puzzlement and a strangely earnest pride radiating from the armoured visage. ‘Never seen one of these before?’ he asks.

You speak before you can stop yourself, ‘Oh I have,’ you breathe, and he startles a little. ‘Just not, not out in the world like this.’ Ah, shut up now. You look over at him and can sense the feeling of being deeply scrutinised. You shake off your reverie. ‘Well, shall we?’ You march with a light step past him as best you can. 

You sense him following and, after a moment, hear light module beeping behind you as the Razor Crest opens itself for you. You temper giddiness and slow down so he can overtake to move into the hold first. You follow, looking around curiously, but keep it level before matching his path into the cockpit. 

As you enter, he reaches up into a storage bin and pulls something down before turning to you.

He hands you a small med kit.

‘For your arms,’ he says simply. Ah, so he did see. Sees everything apparently. He says no more and moves to take the pilot seat, jabbing at controls.

You think nothing for it and drop down into a rear chair, using the console beside you to start laying out the contents of the kit, eyes lighting on the salve. You snatch it up and squirt a portion to lather over your cuts and grazes. You let a long sigh escape your lips as the miracle cream does its work.

It feels incredible. You even moan a little at the sensation.

Mind clearing, able to think a bit. You continue to clean and dress your hurts, deciding to just out with it.

‘Can I ask,’ you say with as much casual air as you’re able. ‘Just who did pay you to find me?’

Your escort doesn’t turn but lifts his helmet some. ‘I believe the job is from your uncle,’ he says.

Your mouth falls open before you can stop it. He’s actually done it, you think in wonder. But why now? 

Thoughts tumble upon themselves in your head. You register that your companion hasn’t made any move to say more. 

‘So who are you?’ you ask. The broad silhouette stops his work for a moment. He seems to be considering.

‘I’m just a bounty hunter,’ he murmurs. ‘You can call me Mando.’

--

MNext

[theflyindutchwoman]

License and registration, please. C'mon, you don't really need that, do you? You should come to the party after work. We'd have fun. Yeah. I bet we would. … All right, I'm gonna let you go with a warning this time. But slow down, okay? Yeah, I promise. Thank you so much. Yeah. Have fun at that party.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 3.14 - Threshold

Lucy's first solo undercover assignment… and it's already clear that despite her lack of proper training, she is extremely good at this. The way she is able to quickly think on her feet and adapt to any situation, while remaining level-headed is remarkable. We saw hints of this when she was a rookie but now, we get to see this side of her completely shine. Like how she catches Tim's attention : she knows she's in a perilous situation and the second she sees his shop, she immediately seizes the opportunity to get noticed, all so she can warn Nyla about the incoming robbery without raising any suspicion. I've always wondered whether she recognised Tim specifically when she sped up or not… But regardless, once she sees him in her rearview mirror, her anxiety and worry cranks up a level, with Dahrio ready to shoot their way out. And yet, she manages to take control of the situation. She uses her outward panic to sell her cover story, following Nyla's advice to the letter : You know, if you're not nervous, you're not human. Okay? So, use this to your advantage. Be scared. A nice reminder that Lucy is indeed a quick-learner.

This is also where Tim and Lucy's shorthand comes in handy and is beautifully underlined, with how well they can read and understand the other… And this, despite the fact that they haven't ridden together for close to a month. That's not to say it is perfect either : it is not quite as effortless as the next time she'll go undercover - with him. There's a slight awkwardness present between them. But it works for them. Tim getting caught off-guard at Nova's flirting makes their act more credible in a way. And even though he lets her get away a little bit too easily, it still gets the job done, from Lucy passing all the informations she has to Tim understanding her message. But it goes beyond the dialogue. It's how these two have a whole conversation without words. It's in the intense eye-contact. It's in the physical touch, with Lucy putting her hand on Tim's, using this gesture to ground them both, to reassure him that she's fine and she's got this. It's in the softness of Tim's voice when he tells her to slow down : he's no longer talking to Nova here, he's asking Lucy to be careful. It's in his last look before he leaves - a proud look, trying to infuse how much faith he has in her. And this is such a departure from his original reaction when he found out about her wish to do undercover work. He learned his lesson and he's trying to be as encouraging as he can without tipping off the bad guys. It's subtle but judging by Lucy's look, she got his message.

This is their first interaction since she went undercover… But more than that : it's also one of their first interaction since her graduation. Since her last day as his rookie, which incidentally, was when they last talked about her trying to become an undercover cop. When he last voiced his reticence and doubts on the matter. We didn't get to see his reaction at her going back under for a longer period, without immediate backup. So this little moment is the perfect opportunity to show where his head is at… how supportive he now is. Not to mention that it introduces us to that scene at the wedding, where he openly praises her. And I love how Tim will take this encounter as a reason to get involved in the operation - even from afar - and pester Nyla after that. Because truthfully, he doesn't have any reason to insert himself here : Nyla is the one in charge. He is no longer Lucy's training officer so Harper doesn't have to tell him anything or update him. But she knows how important this is for him. It's also reminiscent of their moment after Day of Death, when they were trying to figure out who might better serve Lucy for her first day back. It's worth noting that this is the first and last time so far that Tim isn't involved in Lucy's undercover mission in whatever capacity from the get-go. But it never comes across as a lack of faith in her abilities or as him being overbearing. It always feel natural, as a show of support. She's calling the shots and he follows her lead… It's a bit of a role-reversal from their former dynanic but it demonstrates how well they complement each other.

[wttcsms]

oh my god wait there's so many sorry i like. blacked out seeing balancing act ii LOL

please tell me about brace for impact akaashi... or making things up as we go osamu......... my heart surrenders kiyoomi??? where's the trophy suna?????? (sorry i picked so many you can just choose whichever you wanted to talk about haha)

(i love reading your thoughts about your writing. you're always so careful with themes and the portrayal of the character and the reader and your syntax is always so thoughtful it's so. good. so good!!)

AHHHHH okay im gonna try to refrain from yapping ur ear off but these are some of my faves so, speed running through 'em:

brace for impact starring rich girl w/ absent parents!reader x canon timeskip!akaashi; your family is good friends with his + because you're in your rebellious eighteen year old phase (you're described as an irresponsible, irreverent party girl + you have a string of one night stands and just overall demonstrate reckless behavior), your family asks if it's okay if you live with a twenty-two year old akaashi and have him watch over you. roommates to lovers, opposites attract, the whole nine yards!!!! one of my favorite lines i've written abt romance comes from this fic & it's a bit silly, but i think it does showcase love pretty well. reader is going to be a reformed party girl at this point, but she tells akaashi "you're my person. you're the one who would wake up at 2am even though you have to get up at 5:30 just to walk through frat party and search for me in the bushes because you know that's where i would be passed out in. no one else would do that for me. not a lot of people would do that for anyone." and an excerpt of one of my fave scenes:

making things up as we go!!!! oh so fun!!!! secret heiress to one of the biggest food companies in the world!reader x canon timeskip!osamu !!!!!!! SO FUN!!!!!!! reader is very bubbly and happy go lucky. you're working undercover at her family's company & no one really respects you. the truth is, you're set to inherit the business but you don't really like the business aspect of things. you're a literal ray of sunshine but you're so bad at your job that your coworkers get frustrated with you + everyone knows that you're rich. you're genuinely nice, but rich and pretty and practically un-hateable?? ofc ppl will get jealous and hate you anyway 😭 so you usually go to lunch alone, and you're a MASSIVE foodie. you find onigiri miya + you quickly become one of his regulars and the story is sectioned off in meals that you share (it'll make sense when you see the excerpt LOL) + there are SO many romcom scenes i want to write in it!!! but a big part of this fic is chasing your dreams, no matter what people say or how scared you are. reader actually wants to be a mukbanger LOL, or do food vlogging. because it's what you enjoy. and so you do make a mukbang channel & it's slow growing at first, and osamu doesn't reveal he's your first subscriber so one day you come running into the store, out of breath and so excited, and you're like "osamu!!! my latest video got 26 views and 2 likes and i got a new subscriber!!!!!" (i think i'll have him use that throwaway account he made to subscribe to also comment on ur vids to encourage you <3)

this whole fic makes u feel like ur listening to a really upbeat beabadoobee song <3 but we get really hot osamu, too. ugh i need the cliche fun moment where you're cooking together and for some reason, you get flour all over yourself and do that silly thing where you also get osamu equally messy since he's teasing you and you're both laughing and having a tiny "fight" where you're throwing flour at each other and then he totally ends up accidentally backing you into the counter and you're so close to each other that he could easily just lean down a bit and kiss you right then and there. reader coming into onigiri miya before they open and sitting all pretty while osamu is busy doing inventory and you pause mid-story because holy shit, how is he lifting so many bags of rice at a time and has his biceps always been so big and his black uniform shirt so snug???? i want him to be jealous of you going on a date until you come back like a day later to give him a recap and the restaurant your date chose was AWFUL and you're both foodies so you and osamu are bonding over how bad his taste is. know that there is going to be a scene where reader and osamu have an indirect kiss and you're totally freaking out about it (and he might be too 🤭) like you two share a straw because you want him to try your drink and you're practically shoving it in his face so he just leans in and sips it all casually and is like "ur right, it's good" and you're just thinking abt his lips touching the same straw your lips have and you're like 🤭🤭🤭 AND!!!!

reader and him totally bond over the fact that sometimes the dingiest restaurants that r tucked away in hard to find locations who serve their meals in not the most aesthetic plating have some of the best meals. something abt the sticky floors and faded outdated menus and elderly couple running the joint just hits differently. ugh and him and you start sharing meals bc reader wants to eat w him and it’s partly bc you're so alone but your philosophy is that food tastes better when shared/eaten with someone you care for and so maybe somewhere towards the end, you're like walking and he breaks off a piece of some snack and gives you the bigger half and you're like “osamu, i want to share all my food with you for the rest of my life.”

MY HEART SURRENDERS!!! one of my beloved followers requested an ex-husband to lovers fic with sakusa and the two of you have a kid but you both got married young and sakusa is a bit too prideful and a touch too silent when he needs to communicate so you two get divorced.

someone else asked for where's the trophy so that will be answered elsewhere hehe (this post is already obnoxiously long LMAO)

[findafight]

tbh i think ppl that genuinely think steve dragged her there kind of take nancy's behavior at the party in the best light/take nancy at her word bc,,,, we see nancy excited for the party to the point of spending time making a costume and encouraging jonathan to come only for her to start lashing out at steve right after they get there. like i always felt so bad for him when tommy and billy start harassing him and nancy literally rolls her eyes and just stalks off only to start heavily drinking specifically to spite steve given what she says about how she's just acting normal like he wanted (also that smug look she sends him right after continuing to drink). idk the way nancy starts acting out (this makes her sound like a 5 y/o throwing a tantrum but,,,, if the shoe fits) could make it seem as if she's been forced to do something against her will when taken out of context but in context she's literally just acting like a huge asshole to her boyfriend bc she's upset about something she hasn't even told him about. i get upset when i think about it too much bc ppl focus way more on the bullshit scene (for obvious reasons) but nancy really was treating steve like shit that whole night.

yeah like. Owens talks about "the anniversary effect", and I think that's hitting Nancy hard, and so she's lashing out! She's a teenager and she doesn't know how to handle her grief and her desire for justice. That's fine and she deserves to yell and cry about it. But she also isn't communicating what she actually needs from Steve because I don't think she really realized it until she saw the redhead in the library. And dropping that on him and kind of freaking out about it at school wasn't really the most appropriate place to have a deep discussion on what to do. (idk why people view this as steve just flat out refusing to talk about it ever, it's clear to me he's nervous about it because they're at school and he doesn't want to be overheard and doesn't want to risk the government hurting them/their families)

We see Steve do his best to support Nancy by going to the dinners with the Hollands, and also encouraging her to go to the party, after we have been shown Nancy talking about it and inviting Jonathan and excited for it. He is engaging her with something she was looking forward to. idk why people view this as steve just flat out refusing to talk about it ever, it's clear to me he's nervous about it because they're at school and he doesn't want to be overheard and doesn't want to risk the government hurting them/their families. Yeah maybe if she had asked him to come with her on the plan to entrap Owens he would have said no, but at least he would have known where she was at and what she was thinking, instead of the sudden one-off talk they had in the library.

I guess if people only watched tina's party and not anything that came before they could see nancy as completely correct and that steve was pretending while she didn't want to (instead of mostly pretending with Steve and having had one freak out about it in a place that people could overhear) and that he dragged her there. But it's astounding that people can watch Nancy smile and give the flyer to Jon and still say Steve was a bad boyfriend for taking her.

She is definitely drinking vindictively in the scene, even though for all Steve knows Nancy genuinely wanted to go and have fun at the party. He's trying to get her to slow down and idk I've seen some takes as this showing Steve is controlling but legitimately what the fuck else are you going to do when you see someone you care about (friend/partner/whatever) ignoring you and being kind of an ass and drinking way too much while obviously upset about something. Of course he would encourage her to slow down!

He doesn't know what's wrong because Nancy actually has a habit of not talking or communicating to her boyfriend what is upsetting her. Nancy is so over pretending but she has only barely broached that with Steve. He did try to shut it down, but I don't remember him saying he was unwilling to talk about it, just that it was a bad idea, and that Nancy was coming with this "tear the lab down" thing from nowhere.

Part of the problem is that Nancy had feelings for Jonathan and didn't know what to do about that, and so decided that actually, everything was Steve's fault, because he wanted to be normal, he wanted to go to the party and have fun, he wanted to date and be in love, when, to drunk Nancy's mind, she wanted none of that. (even though we are shown that that isn't true) So she's going to drink and she's going to have fun and she's not even in love. (idk it depends on the day for me if nancy was faking the whole time or did, at some point, fall in love with him and then out of love.) The whole party scene is a mess for Stancy and poor Steve has no idea why his girlfriend is drinking too much and suddenly acting like they're fighting when there's no reason to. and then he gets yelled at and told she's pretending to love him.

[reikunrei]

Shadows, Saving, and Simulations

A while back, I made a post (that I can no longer find) about some random bits of a couple episodes of Doctor Who that gave me some Stranger Things vibes with the intent of seeing if my inkling was warranted. Well, I finally watched the episodes again.

They are season 4, episodes 8 and 9, "Silence in the Library" and "Forest of the Dead."

The monster of these episodes are called the Vashta Nerada. We never actually see them, but they take the shape of shadows/exist as swarms within the darkness. They were the main reason why I initially thought of these episodes because of their being possible inspiration for the Shadow in Stranger Things, because while the Shadow/Mind Flayer is presented as one (mostly) singular, tangible being, the hive mind aspect of it/the UD is very similar to how the Vashta Nerada operate and communicate amongst each other to hunt.

There are even several characters who become "puppets" of the Vashta Nerada. Though while the don't actually go into the victims, the language is similar in that the Doctor says they become "infected" by the Vashta Nerada. They'll even attach themselves to a victim before consuming them to keep them "fresh" and to infect others. These victims wind up having two shadows: one benign and one infected.

The Vashta Nerada can strip flesh from bone in a fraction of a second, so the victims are dead in an instant and the swarm inhabits the suit they're wearing and manipulates that into moving. It starts off clunky and slow, but as the episode progresses, they get better at moving the suits to keep up with the others.

We even get a fun "strangling the person who's trying to help" moment. Hi, Joyce!

We're also introduced to a concept called "Data Ghosting." The members of the expedition party, the ones in the white suits, are each equipped with a communication device which, upon death of the wearer, hangs on to a copy of their consciousness anywhere from a few seconds to several hours afterward. These "ghosts" can continue to speak to the living until they deteriorate, often repeating a final word or phrase as their consciousness officially leaves.

At one point, the Doctor tries speaking to the Vashta Nerada, encouraging them to use the the lingering "data ghost" of one of the victims to manipulate their speech into telling the Doctor what they want. This occurs later as well when another victim is infected. Though, as the Doctor said earlier, "they're learning."

Anita, a member of the expedition, ultimately finds she has a second shadow, and in an attempt to trick the Vashta Nerada into believing they've already gotten inside her suit, they tint the visor. However, this proves futile, but nobody notices that she's been killed for a good long while, and she even continues talking, keeping pace as they run, and carrying herself like a normal person until the Doctor makes it clear he spotted that she's back down to one shadow.

I had completely forgotten about the "Data Ghosting" aspect of these episodes, so while I went into it thinking "ah, yes, a living shadow that puppets dead people in an attempt to kill others" was a pretty fun little similarity to the Mind Flayer, I didn't expect to then have "the shadow is trying to mimic the infected person in order to cause more damage."

Obviously, this isn't exactly like what's happening with, say, the flayed victims in ST who are still themselves but heightened to a certain degree rather than being wholly replaced (ie. Billy being angrier than usual). However, it specifically makes me think of this theory by @aemiron-main that, for example, "Henry" isn't Henry in TFS, and perhaps certain characters have been replaced with shapeshifters or doppelganger-type monsters. The Vashta Nerada are even feeding off of the remaining "data ghosts" in order to communicate, much like how a doppelganger would have to feed off of/consume their victim in order to pass as that person.

Now, with all that out of the way, let's get to the fun bit: NINA parallels.

These episodes take place on a planet-sized library which was constructed for the consciousness of a little girl to live in for eternity. The little girl, Charlotte, was dying of an incurable disease, so her grandfather created The Library for her to enjoy every book ever written, meanwhile also giving her an imaginary world to exist in as a "real girl," which leads her to believe that The Library is her imagination rather than the reverse reality.

However, as the Doctor, his companion Donna, and the expedition team fall under threat of the Vashta Nerada, Charlotte's psychologist, Dr. Moon, reveals to her the truth.

Yes, he even calls them nightmares!! Just like Henry calls his visions in TFS!!

Throughout the episode, we see Charlotte in her imaginary "real world" interacting with the library.

When the Doctor and Donna first "meet" her, what they actually come across is a hovering, sphere-shaped security camera that shuts off when Charlotte opens her eyes in her "real world." Then, when the Doctor tries to turn the security camera back on using his Sonic Screwdriver (a multi-purpose tool he carries with him), we see Charlotte reacting to the sound it emits/feeling the Doctor forcing the security camera back on, but her father and Dr. Moon don't hear the sound at all.

There are several other instances where Charlotte will hear something that's caused by commotion in the library, but her father in the "real world" can't hear it. At one point, the expedition team are trying to crack into the security protocols for the library in an attempt to find a way out/figure out what's going on, but they hit a wall and trigger an alarm. The alarm manifests as a phone ringing in Charlotte's living room, but when she asks her dad if he's going to pick it up, he says the phone isn't ringing.

Then, in an attempt to break through the security protocols even further, the Doctor winds up transmitting himself onto her TV and they speak briefly to each other. At this point, the Doctor & Co. have yet to know what Charlotte's relation is to the library, but she recognizes him as the man she saw "in my library." Before the Doctor can question her on that, the connection is lost.

Throughout the rest of the episode, we then see Charlotte "watching" what's happening in the library on her TV. She's basically watching the Doctor Who episodes within the Doctor Who episodes, and when she flips through channels, she switches to new scenes/shots. They even have a musical score that is very clearly coming from her TV. Her dad is unaware of this as well, and when she makes comments about the library being "on TV now," he chuckles and reminds her that the library is in her imagination.

Obviously, a lot of this reminded me of El talking to Brenner when she's in NINA in ST4, as well as the several times the grandfather clock chimes in TFS despite its otherwise glaring absence throughout the whole show. There's even that one moment before the attic sequence with Patty where Henry gets interrupted by the clock chime, but Patty doesn't seem to react to it at all, she only reacts to Henry reacting.

Not to mention the Vecna visions in ST4 and seeing/hearing the grandfather clock/other aspects of the vision when no one else can, El's running in and out of the Rainbow Room/shouting eliciting little to no reaction from the other kids, and Henry's weird half-real/half-not visions throughout all of TFS.

Let's talk more about Charlotte's "real world."

At the end of the first episode, Donna, while being transported to the TARDIS to be kept safe, gets mysteriously grabbed "by" the library. While Charlotte is watching The Library on her TV, she flips to a channel that is not in the library. We see Donna pulled out of an ambulance on a gurney and taken inside a care facility, where we then see Dr. Moon enter her room. However, she doesn't know who he is or where she is until he "reminds" her.

Peep the two years...

He gently feeds her information that gets her to believe one "reality" over another. And while it's not exactly the same, it reminded me very much of Brenner urging El to "remember" in order to proceed through NINA, and it reminded me of all the times Henry or other characters pushed the "it's a dream/nightmare" sentiment in order to change the outcome of something.

Throughout the rest of their interactions, Dr. Moon says "and then you remembered" and "and then you forgot" very frequently. His motives may seem wishy-washy at this point, since he was telling Charlotte that the "real world" is just her imagination, but here he is telling Donna that the "real world" is real and her memories of the Doctor are just "dreams." From what I can gather, it's mostly just to keep Charlotte/the simulation stable.

In these moments when Dr. Moon "reminds" Donna of what she remembered/forgot, she often will then behave like Dr. Moon has just arrived, greeting him again and seeming surprised, like she forgot he was there/like they hadn't just had a conversation with each other.

The way time progresses within this world really stuck out to me. It's played off like Donna has memory issues, but in reality, whenever something is suggested to her/she thinks of doing something else/going somewhere, it simply... happens. For example, in that scene with Dr. Moon asking her about her "dreams," when he suggests they go for a walk, they're simply suddenly outside taking a walk. She asks him how they got outside, because, from her point of view, there was just a snap transition from her room to outside. He talks her through how they walked out of the building and she laughs it off like she simply forgot again.

This phenomenon is finally explained to her by another character who was in The Library with her, Miss Evangelista, who's sentient of the fact that this "real world" is all a simulation.

Miss Evangelista was the first victim of the Vashta Nerada. She hides her face in a black veil because she was copied into the simulation when she died, resulting in her getting scrambled physically and mentally. In the library, she was a pretty ditz, but in the simulation, she's a photo-booth-swirl-filter-looking genius.

And like... do I even need to say it?

At this point, I guess I should just out and say what's really going on here. Charlotte, full name Charlotte Abigail Lux, or CAL, is the hard drive for The Library.

Her consciousness was essentially made into the computer that runs the whole planet, and 100 years prior to the Doctor and Donna arriving, the Vashta Nerada hatched, alerting the security system that the library was under attack, and in an attempt to rescue the 4,022 people who were physically in The Library that day, the library tried to transport them all out of harm's way. However, with nowhere to send them, CAL saved all of the people to the hard drive in this imaginary "real world."

They spend a lot of time equating this imagined "real world" to a dream. Alongside Dr. Moon initially telling Charlotte that her visions of The Library are "nightmares," the Doctor, attempting to wake up the computer to save the data core before it self-destructs (Charlotte had a meltdown of sorts once Miss Evangelista made Donna realize that her world, her husband, her children, are all just a figment of her imagination/an idealized world/a dream. While overwhelmed, she deleted her dad and Dr. Moon by pressing buttons on her TV remote, and this resulted in The Library going into self-destruct mode. This was also partially because Dr. Moon is a personification of the computer's "doctor moon," a fake moon placed into The Library to act as a virus checker) equates its state to that of someone who's dreaming, and that's when the "child hooked up to a mainframe" situation is revealed, because she is dreaming.

Which leads me into my next detail of import in these episodes: names and identity.

As we've already explored, Charlotte's true identity/purpose remained a mystery for most of the run time. We're aware that she has some sort of influence on/ownership over The Library, and in that early scene with Dr. Moon we're told that her "imagination"/"nightmares" (read: The Library) are the real world. However, it's not until well into the second episode that we're officially told that Charlotte is CAL, and only once they understand that fact are they able to figure out what to do to save the library and everyone inside of it.

We're also introduced to the (future) recurring character River Song. From the first moment we meet her, we're aware that she knows the Doctor. However, the Doctor makes it clear that he doesn't know her. Ultimately, we learn that this is the first time he's ever met her, and it's the last time she's ever going to see him. Because of this, she has years of experience with him to make her trust him unequivocally, but he is very distrustful of her, seeing as she's a total stranger to him.

However, there is one thing she says to him, something that she whispers in his ear so no one, not even the audience, can hear what she says. And that one whisper has him instantly putting all of his trust in her. And what did she say?

Spoilers: later in the show, River and the Doctor get married. That's why she knows his true name, not just his "Doctor" moniker.

Obviously, all of this name and identity stuff has me staring at the Henry slash Vecna slash One nonsense, the existence of Edward Creel, and the general "which character actually is this" of the whole kit and caboodle.

In a similar vein, we get multiple instances of language like this from River:

And while this is clearly just a "you're not the man I know yet" type of sentiment, which is something she specifies, there was no way I could ignore the implications of that kind of dialogue being put into ST. Especially in regard to this post made by James @henrysglock and the general idea that the same person can exist simultaneously/interact with themselves/be both themselves and "someone else." This also happens a lot in DW, and different iterations of the Doctor will meet each other occasionally, and each Doctor is different enough from the other + any later regeneration's additional life experience will allow them to help in different ways.

Just something about the "future you" being the "real you" because that's the "most accurate" you, and all the "past" yous are half-baked, incomplete, and not quite you just yet.

Actually, before I continue, in a similar vein to James's post I linked above, I should explain that we even get a moment of the future Doctor helping the past (present) Doctor within these two episodes.

In order to save all of the people in the hard drive, they need to "restore" them. However, CAL, overwhelmed, doesn't have enough memory in order for it to work smoothly. The Doctor suggests he hook himself up to the mainframe in order to assist, but River offers herself up instead, saying that it'll kill him if he does it and she can't let that happen. Ultimately, she knocks him out, handcuffs him away from her, and takes his place, killing herself in order to restore all of the people in the hard drive.

Earlier in the episodes, we learn that River also has a Sonic Screwdriver, that fancy multi-tool I mentioned a while back. However, that's not something the Doctor just gives away to people. Just before he and Donna are to leave the library, he sets the screwdriver atop her diary, which he was planning to leave in the library along with all of the other books. But then... it clicks.

Why would he give her his Sonic Screwdriver? Why would he do that, knowing he (his future self) would never see her again after this?

He cracks the device open only to see a piece of hardware exactly like the communication device that enabled the "data ghosts" from earlier. He's able to rush back to the hard drive, Sonic in hand (he does have to go fast, she's dwindling), and deposits her into the mainframe for her to exist in the imagined reality of Charlotte with her friends who had been killed by the Vashta Nerada.

His future self, knowing she was going to die on this trip to The Library, planned ahead, knowing his past self would be smart enough to figure it out and save her.

Anyway, where was I? Cripes, this post is all over the place!!

Stranger Things, at the present moment, is a bit of a mess in terms of identity and who's-who. We're told one thing, but when you peel back the layers, you find about a dozen other deviating routes that point in an entirely different direction. As I mentioned earlier, we even get extra characters like Edward Creel, who add another entirely new series of layers to help further muddy the waters.

Blame is something central to the story of Stranger Things. Specifically, where it is wrongly placed.

It was already apparent to me (as to most people) that one of the keys to "beating Vecna" in the end will have to be figuring out who he really is. Given that they think they know his identity, and yet they still managed to not beat him, is clear evidence that they don't have the full picture yet. And, much like how the Doctor wasn't able to figure out how to save The Library until he knew who and what CAL was, our gaggle of teenagers and errant adults won't be able to save Vecna until they know who and what he is.

However, my big takeaway after watching these Doctor Who episodes was... is anything in NINA even real at all?

I personally think that it has to come from some kind of truth, and, at least in the case of El in NINA, I think some of those moments really are her memories. With TFS, I'm a little more willing to look at it and go "yeah all of this is entirely a simulation." Given how many facts are misaligned with on-film canon, the insistent way we're told "Henry" is Henry by Henry (and other characters).

And the number of times Henry says, "This isn't real." Sure, those were in moments of distress when he was experiencing effects of the Shadow, but it still makes me go... okay, "Henry," if that even is your real name... how much of this isn't real?

Donna, once faced with the reality of her world being a simulation/dream, finds herself hard-pressed to keep up the image of it. She starts becoming more aware of the weird way in which time passes, she realizes that every other child in the world is an exact copy of her own, and she finds it difficult to reassure her children of their existence when they confess that they feel like they're not real sometimes. And, after they tell her this, they vanish into thin air.

This, obviously, is where things diverge in terms of how this applies to ST. Obviously, the point of NINA was for El to be aware of the fact that they're memories and to collect them again in order to get her powers back/find the source of her strength. But that leads me again into: if she doesn't remember them, how does she know that they're her own? This has been talked about extensively by folks like Em and James, so I won't touch on it more than that, but I think it's a likely possibility that has to be considered going into ST5.

This is a bit easier to apply to "Henry" in TFS. While I agree that some of it has to be taken from reality in order to construct the world he's in, as I said prior, the inconsistencies and timelines not matching up (again, spoken about a lot by James and Em, especially stuff like the newspaper dates being wrong) makes it stink of something especially wrong.

In these Doctor Who episodes, all of the people that exist in that world are, in fact, also real people! I think the only exception are the children, as they were fully fabricated by Donna's "settle down and start a family" dream. At the end of the second episode, she even goes searching through library records to see if the man she "married" was one of the 4,022 people who'd been saved.

However, in the end, he was real. We see him trying to call out to her as she walks away with the Doctor, but he gets teleported out of the library before he can get her attention.

Not only did this remind me of idea that Patty might not be real, but it sort of put me further in the camp of "Patty in TFS isn't real, but Patty is a real person." Like, I genuinely don't think that she's a fully fabricated being, but rather she's taken from some other reality and molded to fit the current situation.

Which also reminds me of, in these Doctor Who episodes, there are statues throughout The Library which offer information to guests, and they have real human faces on them. Donna talks to one early on in the first episode and it gives some spiel about how it "chose" a face she would "like" from their data bank. The Doctor says it's "like donating an organ." This idea has been talked about irt Patty in TFS being so similar to Henry in terms of likes and desires (they're both comic/superhero nerds and they both want to get away from their abusive households) (I know either Em or James have posted about that but I cannot for the life of me find the posts lol). Not to mention that Patty winds up filling a sort of maternal role for Henry, who is without a proper maternal figure in his life, which Em talks about in posts like this one irt Patty also looking for a paternal figure in her life/rebelling against the one she has.

So, they're both looking for something specific of these relationships, and, at least from Henry's side, he gets given someone who shares his interests and experiences and is willing to give him love and affection when the "proper" person isn't willing to (even if it does go awry in the end, but, y'know).

I got a bit sidetracked there, but looping back to what I said just a little ways above about the purpose of El's NINA simulation being to be aware of the fact that they're memories and try to follow them "the right way"... it's, again, interesting to me that the only time we see "Henry" insisting something isn't real is when he's in a "bad vision," and it makes me wonder what would have happened if he'd been able to question reality outside of that as well. Other characters tell him it's a dream/nightmare/not real (whether that's actually Patty or a friend in disguise, like James suggests in one of the posts of his I linked earlier, is to be confirmed) and that helps to snap him out of it/ground himself... but what if we got more of that? Would all of it fall apart? Much like how, once Charlotte became fully aware of what was going on and the "reality" was questioned, she sent the library into self-destruct?

And looping back again to the "Patty isn't real" stuff and Em's doppelganger theory, if Henry was allowed to question himself, would we potentially learn that "Henry" really isn't Henry? Like Donna said, he "could have had a different name out [there]."

Okay I... think I need to stop myself from going any further, so here's some closing thoughts!!

In short, none of these ideas are new. James and Em have spoken extensively about NINA/TFS being fake, or interspersed with lies at the very least; they've spoken about there being missing information/scenes during/prior to the 1979 HNL massacre; and aaaall that other stuff I already linked. Stav @heroesbyler was also the first to talk about Brenner's Doctor/Time Lord coding, which is something I also talk more about in this post.

Ultimately, the fact that there were so many things that jumped out at me in these DW episodes that aligned with ideas presented not only in these theories about ST, but within ST itself, makes me think that those theories really aren't far off the mark.

And while none of this gave me any answers, it reinforced a lot of questions (and added some new ones) that make me eager to see how everything culminates in this upcoming final season.

What's real and what isn't? Who's real and who isn't? Which are memories and which are fabrications? Whose memories/dreams belong to themselves and which ones belong to someone else? Are they twisted/swapped to get a specific outcome someone else wants? Is anything idealized to make it more alluring? Who can we actually trust throughout this whole damn series?

[c-e-d-dreamer]

Falling For Your Fools Gold: Chapter 10

A/N: The slow burn is officially burning! I need everyone to know that this chapter is 5k words and half of those words are smut! Who is she? Writing 2500 words worth of smut? Also! A fun history fact for everyone: back in the golden age of pirates, a common form of birth control was lemons. Women would often shove a lemon rind or a lemon-soaked rag right on up there before intercourse. It was believed that it would provide a barrier to help prevent pregnancy and also that the acidity of lemons acted as a bit of a spermicide. So, now you'll get Emerie's joke in this chapter and have a fun fact to share at parties ;) But all in all, I hope everyone enjoys chapter 10 of 15 of this fic :) Just reminding everyone of how many chapters this fic is going to be again for no particular reason…

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“You have to make sure you keep your elbows tucked in tight.”

Cresseida frowns at the comment, glancing down at her arms, at the stance she’s currently standing in. She shifts her arms, resetting how she’s holding them up before glancing over her shoulder toward Cassian, a silent question in her gaze. The pirate captain steps closer, raising his own hands but pausing before they make contact.

“May I?” Cassian asks. At Cresseida’s nod, he places his hands on her arms, gently guiding them into the correct position. “Like this. Then you can punch forward without overextending, but make sure you hit like this to avoid breaking any fingers.”

Cassian continues to help ensure Cresseida’s form is correct before finally stepping back, focusing his attention on Emerie and Gwyn next. Nesta can’t help but watch him, track his movements as he moves between the three women. The way his smile is friendly and open. The way his hands are gentle as he corrects their stances, their punches. The way he offers kind words of encouragement.

It doesn’t help that the sun is shining bright overhead, a beacon and a spotlight in the wide expanse of blue. The rays catch on the dark strands of his hair, currently pulled away from his face and tied with a leather strap atop his head. The heat led to him rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, the laces at the collar loose and open. It’s a tease of the golden skin beneath, practically glistening in that damn sun. As if he can feel her gaze on him, Cassian’s eyes catch her own, the shade almost a molten gold glinting beneath the light.

The catch of a dagger hilt against her jaw jolts Nesta back to reality.

“You’re distracted,” Baz chastises, amusement swimming in his brown eyes.

“I am not,” Nesta defends with a huff, readjusting her grip on her dagger. She and Baz both know she’s lying through her teeth, but neither comment on it. “We go again.”

Nesta and Baz continue their spar, Nesta trying to remember everything she’s learnt. It’s certainly more difficult with the added element of daggers, even if both are safely sheathed in their scabbards to avoid any accidental injuries. Nesta has to pay extra close attention to Baz’s right hand while still dodging his other punches and moves. She ducks under a jab from Baz, turning and preparing to swing her own arms when she feels pressure just beneath her ribs. She looks down, surprised to find Baz’s dagger poised there. She’d lost track of his right hand.

“And, you’re dead,” Baz tells her sadly, offering a wry smile as he tucks the dagger away on his belt.

Nesta lets out a frustrated huff, dropping her hands back to her side. “Damn it…”

Baz steps over to the freshwater barrel they have up on deck, pouring a tankard and holding it out for Nesta to take before pouring a second for himself. “You’ll get it next time.”

“You said that the last two times we sparred.”

“No one is perfect right away,” Baz reminds her, already walking backwards away from her to return to his first mate duties. He holds up his tankard in the mimic of a cheers. “Until our next match, Nesta.”

Nesta sighs softly, knowing he’s right. She allows herself just one more moment of self-pity, sipping at her water, before turning her attention back to Cassian and her friends.

“What if someone grabs you and pins your arms?” Gwyn asks, fiddling with the end of her braid. “And you can’t punch?”

“Care to help me demonstrate, princess?” Cassian requests, his gaze cutting toward Nesta. “Might be easier to show than explain.”

Nesta rolls her eyes, but she sets her water down, stepping over to Cassian and dropping her voice to ask, “looking for an excuse to get your hands on me?”

Cassian’s smirk has Nesta’s heart stuttering in her chest, his hazel eyes glinting as he stares down at her. “Always.” With his hands on her shoulders, he carefully turns Nesta around so her back is to him. “Now, most likely, if someone is trying to grab you, they’ll do it from behind so as to take you by surprise.”

Cassian demonstrates just that, his arms wrapping securely around Nesta. He has her arms pinned down against her sides, but all Nesta can focus on is the press of his chest along her spine, the way one of his hands spans across her entire waist, fingers digging in in their grip, his hot breath skating across her skin where his chin is tucked over her shoulder. Pressed this close together, the warmth of him burrows beneath her skin, the scent of pine and low burning embers flooding her senses.

“Nes?” Cassian whispers, his voice laced with quiet concern.

Nesta gives herself a mental shake, clearing her mind of the slippery path her thoughts threatened to tumble down. She brings her foot up and slams her heel hard against Cassian’s toes, his grip around her loosening enough that she can drive her elbow back and into his gut. Cassian doubles over in pain and Nesta steps cleanly away from him, offering a wide smile to Gwyn, Emerie, and Cresseida, all three of them looking at her with various degrees of shock.

“And that’s how you get out of that,” Nesta offers brightly, turning her head back toward Cassian. “Right, Cassian?”

“You didn’t want to hold back even a little for the sake of the demonstration?” Cassian wheezes, still clutching at his stomach.

“I thought it was important to make sure our demonstration was accurate.”

“Is that so?”

Cassian stands back up to his full height, stepping closer until he’s looming over her. Nesta scoffs at his scare tactics, crossing her arms and raising a pointed eyebrow. Waiting. Daring him. Cassian’s smirk is wide, his lips parting.

“Captain!”

All five pairs of eyes turn toward the quarter deck, Cormac standing there with expectant eyes. Whatever silent conversation passes between him and Cassian has the pirate captain nodding in understanding.

“Continue with the training, princess,” Cassian tells her, daring to lean down and press a kiss to her cheek before retreating across the deck.

Nesta bites her lip around a smile, fighting against the heat beginning to pool from that contact point. She clears her throat and turns fully back to her friends. Unsurprisingly, Emerie is smirking, but Nesta settles her with a warning glare before she can say anything.

“You’ve really been doing this every day?” Cresseida asks thankfully, stretching her arms above her head until a wince mars her face. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to lift my arms tomorrow.”

“It gets easier,” Nesta promises, grimacing as she remembers her own first few days training with Baz.

“I don’t even care. I’ll do this every day,” Gwyn tells them, sitting down so she can stretch out her legs. “Especially if it means we can stay. I still can’t believe we got to join the crew.”

“That’s because while he may be the Lord of Bloodshed, Cassian understands that happy wife means happy life,” Emerie snickers, settling down beside Gwyn. “Isn’t that right, Nesta?”

“It’s not like that. At least… I don’t think it’s like that.” Nesta glances over her shoulder, making sure no one else is near before also sitting down on the deck and dropping her voice. “I mean… we did kiss the other day.”

Emerie reaches over and smacks Nesta on the shoulder. “You did what? I can’t believe you’ve been holding out on us.”

“I’m not sure it means anything, though. I mean, sure, back in Adriata, it was considered improper to kiss anyone except your husband, but we’re not in Adriata anymore. I don’t think the same is true on a pirate ship.”

“Normally, I would say a kiss doesn’t mean much,” Cresseida jumps in to offer. “But considering the way the Captain looks at you? It means something.”

“The way he looks at me?” Nesta asks, looking between the three for answers, but they all seem to be wearing similarly exasperated expressions at her question.

“Like he loves you,” Gwyn sighs almost dreamily.

“Like we’re going to have to stock up on lemons at the next port,” Emerie snickers at the same time.

~ * * * ~

The words of her friends echo in Nesta’s head for the rest of the day. While she helps Bram to sew and repair a small tear in the sail. While she picks at her dinner. While she unwinds and gets ready to sleep. The words play over and over on a loop, sinking their claws deeper and deeper into her mind with every go around.

She tries to think of how Cassian looks at her, tries to understand what her friends have apparently seen in just a few short days. He’s certainly always smirking, since the very first day she met him in fact. Often there’s a fire sparking and blazing in his gaze, but there’s something softer hiding amongst the greens and golds too she’s noticed. Something soft in the way his fingers will brush along her cheek, in the smile that Nesta has started to suspect is only for her.

And there’s definitely something in the way he kissed her.

Nesta pauses where she was brushing out her hair, pressing her fingers against her lips. She swears for a moment she can feel the phantom brush of Cassian’s mouth against her own. With a quiet huff, she shakes away her friends’ words and goes back to finishing her hair. She braids it back loosely along her back, tying it off with a ribbon. She stands up and walks over to the bed, getting comfortable beneath the blankets and balancing a book on her raised knees.

She tries to focus on the words, on the characters and the stories, but the ink starts to blur together on the pages, those thoughts unrelenting and still gnawing for attention in the back of her mind. Even being here feels as though it means something. When she’d first been informed this was where she’d be sleeping, she didn’t think much of it, especially since she was the only woman aboard. But now, Gwyn, Emerie, and Cresseida have all settled in below with the crew, and still, here Nesta sleeps.

The cabin door opening finally snaps Nesta back to the present, and she turns her head to watch Cassian stride inside and close the door behind himself. He pulls the leather strap free from his hair, raking his fingers through the strands until they fall back down around his shoulders, before beginning the process of removing his outer layers of clothing. He doesn’t turn or say anything toward her, but Nesta suspects that he can feel her gaze regardless, especially when he reaches to the hem of his shirt, making a big show of pulling it up and off, stretching his arms high over his head so the muscles of his back flex.

Nesta rolls her eyes and slams her book shut. “Are you courting me?”

Cassian’s movements pause for a moment, almost like the flickering of a flame, but then he continues his routine as if she hadn’t spoken. When he finally turns and walks toward the bed, he still doesn’t say anything. Instead, he merely kneels on the mattress, leaning in close to Nesta. His hand reaches back for her braid, pulling it so it falls over her shoulder. His fingers make quick work of tugging off the ribbon, carding through her hair until the braid unwinds.

“Is this going to become a trend then?” Nesta asks quietly, unable to take her eyes off his. “You always undoing all my hard work braiding?”

“I like when you wear your hair down,” Cassian explains, using both hands to straighten out how her hair tumbles around her shoulders.

“It’s a nuisance,” Nesta corrects, but she doesn’t move to fix it, to re-do the braid. “And you didn’t answer my question. Are you courting me? Now that you’ve kissed me.”

“Sweetheart, I’ve been courting you since the moment I met you.”

Nesta frowns, thinking back to their early interactions. “That was courting? You’re quite terrible at it.”

Cassian laughs, the sound light and easy, his hands shifting until her face is cradled between his palms. “My apologies.” He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips firmly against Nesta’s until the breath is stolen straight from her lungs. “Finish your chapter, Nes.”

“I have finished,” Nesta tells him breathlessly. It’s not necessarily a lie. She never did start the chapter with her spiraling thoughts to begin with.

Cassian plucks the book from her lap, stepping away from the bed and setting it down on the desk. He leans down and blows out the candle next, blanketing the cabin in darkness. It gives Nesta enough of a reprieve to compose herself. She swallows hard, trying to calm the way her heart had started to flutter after that kiss, and shifts to lay down properly.

She feels the mattress shift behind her, feels the blankets lift as he gets comfortable as well, and Nesta squeezes her eyes shut, praying that sleep takes them both quickly before her mind can spin out over the fact Cassian kissed her, again, and has apparently been courting her this whole time.

An arm reaches through the darkness, curling around Nesta's waist, and her eyes snap open as she's hauled backwards. Cassian's warmth seeps through her shift and burrows beneath her skin, and she can feel every hard line and muscle where they're now pressed together. Cassian's hand shifts, his fingers gently brushing Nesta's hair aside. His nose slides along the skin of her neck, his lips soon following the same blazing path. There's no stopping the stuttering sigh that tumbles past her lips, her heart tripping over itself between her ribs. Nesta tilts her head as much as she can, giving him better access, and presses back even more, her skin already beginning to prickle with heat.

“Have you ever laid with a man before?” Cassian asks lowly, his breath skittering across Nesta's skin and leaving goosebumps cascading in its wake.

“You know I haven't. I'm a lady, remember?” Nesta shoots back, her words dying off into a whine when Cassian's teeth dig into her pulse point. “But I'm not stupid. I know how it works. I've read about it plenty.”

To prove her point, Nesta rolls her hips back, feeling the hard line of Cassian's own growing arousal pressing against her ass. He lets out a soft groan at the movement, his hand dropping to grip Nesta's hip. It feels like a delicious brand even through the fabric of her shift, adding to the fire already threatening to swallow her whole.

“In your smutty romance books?” Cassian asks, continuing his attention to Nesta's neck.

“Yes.”

“And did you ever touch yourself?”

“So what if I did?”

Cassian's hand slides down to toy with the hem of her shift, and just that teasing touch has the heat shifting to pool in Nesta's gut, has her breath hitching in anticipation. It's with agonizing slowness that his hand moves up her thigh, pulling her shift up with the movement. His fingers dip to trace senseless patterns along her inner thigh, and it takes everything within Nesta to keep still, to not shift and press her hips closer the way she desperately wants to.

“What did you imagine? Did you imagine some strapping knight? A prince perhaps?”

“Well, I certainly didn't imagine some arrogant pirate captain.”

Nesta feels more than she hears Cassian's chuckle, the sound seeming to rumble from deep in his chest before being lost where his lips are still pressed against her skin. His teeth nip gently in retaliation, but that traitorous hand slips an inch higher along her thigh all the same.

“Tell me to stop,” Cassian whispers right against her ear.

Nesta reaches her own hand down, fingers curling around Cassian's wrist, daring to slide his hand even higher. “Don't stop.”

There’s silence and stillness for a moment, the whole cabin, the whole ship, seeming to shake and rattle with anticipation, as if even the gods themselves are holding their breath. This is the true line in the sand, the one that Nesta cannot take back, and yet she’s ready and wanting to tumble head first over it.

The first touch of Cassian’s fingers is light and teasing, just a gentle swipe with the pads of his fingers, but it has Nesta gasping all the same. The second touch is firmer, more purposeful, Cassian burying his own groan against Nesta’s shoulder.

“Already so wet for me, princess? We’ve barely started.”

The next press of his fingers is directly against her clit, and Nesta doesn’t have time to stifle her moan. Her eyes flutter closed, her head falling back against Cassian’s shoulder, as she focuses on the tantalizing circles he draws with his fingers. His hand pulls away, and she would feel ashamed about the whine that tears from her throat, especially when Cassian chuckles again, but the pleasure licking through her veins has her desperate and toeing the line with delirium.

His hand moves to her knee, and for a moment, she's confused, until Cassian tugs her leg back so it's draped across his hip. It opens her up for him, ready for the taking. His fingers return to where Nesta wants them most, but this time, Cassian sinks one into her. His finger is longer and thicker than hers ever were, and Nesta clenches tight around it, her breath stuttering out of her in a quiet whimper.

Slowly, Cassian starts to pump his finger, and Nesta presses her hips down to meet every shallow thrust, desperate to chase the friction. Her every nerve ending feels like it's sparking, wildfire blazing across her skin, with every stroke of that finger.

“That's it, Nes,” Cassian praises, pressing in a second finger beside the first. “Take what you need.”

“Cassian,” Nesta moans, her head emptying of any other thoughts when he curls his fingers.

“Fuck, my name sounds so good falling past your pretty lips.”

“Please… I… I need—”

Nesta's breathless plea is cut off with another gasped moan when Cassian's thumb returns to press against her clit. He works the bundle of nerves in time with his fingers, until Nesta is nothing but a writhing, moaning mess. She feels as taut as a bowstring, every muscle curling tighter and tighter, the flames of her pleasure stoked higher and higher. One more stroke of his fingers, one more press of his thumb, and release crashes into Nesta like a wave. She clenches down around him, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she's half aware of a choked off sound of his name tearing from her throat.

"So beautiful," Cassian murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to her shoulder.

Cassian's hand retreats from her core, and Nesta wastes no time turning in his arms. Somehow, blindly in the dark, she's able to find his face, crashing their lips together again. Cassian kisses her back just as fervently, his tongue pressing past the seam of her lips and into her mouth. Nesta throws her leg back over his hips, and with her shift still rucked up around her waist, it gives her the perfect vantage to grind against his erection. Cassian groans into her mouth, and Nesta greedily swallows it down, his fingers digging into the flesh of her ass. Her hands slide down his chest to the waistband of his pants, but she only gets one good tug against the laces before Cassian is catching her wrists, halting her movements.

“What's the rush?” Cassian asks, his voice husky and breathless.

“You said you've been courting me since the moment we met.”

Even through the darkness, Nesta can see the way Cassian's eyebrows dip in confusion, his lips tugging down in a frown. “I have.”

“So that means that night, at the inn in Windhaven, when you spoke of your future wife…”

Cassian's grip tightens slightly, and Nesta is sure he must be able to feel how her pulse pounds beneath his fingers. “I was speaking of you.”

“And do pirates not bed their wives?” Nesta dares to ask.

A beat passes, and then Cassian is kissing her again. He presses her back against the mattress, and Nesta goes happily, his weight settling atop her. She buries her hands in his hair, tugging until he's groaning against her lips, until his hips rock down against her own. Cassian's own hands return to the hem of her shift, pulling away enough that he can tug it off completely. He takes a moment to stare down at her, and Nesta tries not to squirm beneath the attention. Her chest heaves, and she can feel a flush creeping down from her neck, but she stays still, swallowing hard. One of Cassian's hands comes up to gently cradle her jaw, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” Cassian breathes, his voice full of quiet reverence.

Nesta is almost glad she can't see his face properly. Just that one word has her breath catching, her heart squeezing almost to the point of pain in her chest. Before she can think too hard about it, Cassian leans down and kisses her again. She tries to reach for the laces of his pants, but once again, he catches her wrists, pinning her hands up by her head this time. He tears his lips away from hers, pressing hot kisses down the column of her throat, over her collarbones.

When his mouth closes over her breast, Nesta arches up against him. He takes his time, laving attention to one before switching to the other. With his tongue swirling around her nipple and his hand palming at the unattended breast, Nesta can do nothing but pant and keen, fingers gripping into the pillow beneath her head. He finally pulls away, but he continues his descent, pressing kisses along Nesta's stomach until he's settled comfortably between her splayed legs.

“I know I may not have your experience,” Nesta says, tilting her head so she can watch him. “But I'm quite confident this is not how it's done.”

Cassian smirks up at her, his hands sliding along her thighs so he can shift her legs to drape over his shoulders. “Just trying to ensure my future wife is well satisfied.”

Before Nesta can even think of a retort, let alone say anything, Cassian's mouth descends upon her. Nesta is sure the whole ship can probably hear her loud moan. If she thought Cassian's fingers felt amazing, it's nothing compared to his mouth. He devours her like a man starved, tongue moving against her in long, thick strokes. He swirls his tongue against her clit before sucking the bundle of nerves between his lips, and Nesta's hips buck wildly off the bed. Cassian settles an arm across her stomach to hold her down, focusing on pumping his tongue the same way his fingers had.

Nesta finds herself on the edge of that precipice once again, but she can't find it in herself to care about how quickly that heat has pooled again. Not with the way Cassian groans against her, the vibrations felt all the way down to her curling toes.

“Cassian,” Nesta pants, reaching a hand down to the pirate captain's hair, holding him where she wants. “Cass… Cassian.”

Despite her inability to string together a coherent sentence, Cassian seems to know what she needs. He focuses his mouth's attention back on her clit, sinking his fingers into her, three this time. It's all Nesta needs. She shatters with a cry, head thrown back and spots dancing behind her closed eyes.

She sinks back against the mattress, trying to calm her racing heart, trying to bring her breathing back down to normal. She can feel the way Cassian shifts again, the way he rises and presses over her. When she blinks her eyes open again, his face swims back into view, that cocksure smirk firmly in place.

“Wipe that look off your face,” Nesta scoffs.

“Feeling satisfied, future wife?” Cassian asks smugly, all male bravado.

Nesta rolls her eyes and tugs him down into another kiss. She can taste herself on his tongue, and it sends a thrill ricocheting up her spine.

“Please,” Nesta murmurs against his lips.

“It may still hurt. Even with everything.”

“I know, but I want to. I want you.”

Cassian presses their lips back together, the kiss searing. He tries to pull away, but Nesta follows him up until they’re both sitting up, Cassian kneeling between her spread legs while his hands cradle her face. Finally, he pulls away completely, clambering off the bed. He makes quick work of the laces of his pants. Nesta bites her lip, eyes tracking the way his body looks in the trickles of moonlight that spill in from the small cabin window.

Even in the low light and shadows, he’s gorgeous. His hair spilling around his face while he dips his chin to focus on the laces. The broad lines of his shoulders and the dark lines of tattoos swirling along his skin. The way his muscles flex and move as he shoves his pants down his legs and off. The large appendage now standing to attention between his thighs.

A finger beneath Nesta’s chin has her gaze rising to meet Cassian’s again as he climbs back onto the bed. “You say stop, and we stop.”

“I thought I told you not to stop,” Nesta challenges, shifting to lay back, an open invitation.

“You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart,” Cassian mutters.

He settles above her again, guiding her leg up so her thigh rests against his hip. Nesta can feel her heart thundering away between her ribs, but she still bucks her hips up, gasping at the drag of his cock through her folds. Cassian’s answering groan spurs her on, but then his hand is gripping her hip, stilling her. His hand shifts away, dropping between them, and then Nesta feels the first press of him. Every rock of his hips has him sinking another inch, and Nesta tries to breathe through the new, slightly uncomfortable feeling, the stretch like she’s never felt before.

Cassian drops his head to press hot kisses across the skin of Nesta’s neck, and soon, the pain gives way to a delicious feeling of fullness. Nesta wraps her arms securely around Cassian’s shoulders, her nails digging into his shoulder blades. Cassian lets out a groan, moving his hips with more purpose, and the friction and pleasure is indescribable, moans falling freely from Nesta’s lips.

“You take me so well,” Cassian breathes hotly against her ear. “Like you were made to take my cock like my good girl.”

A whimper tears its way free from Nesta’s throat, and she starts to buck her hips to meet every thrust. Cassian lifts his head to press his forehead against hers, and Nesta tries to keep her eyes open, tries to meet that burning, hazel gaze, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the fire licking across her skin, the way her mind has gone intoxicatingly fuzzy, the way his hips grind down against her own with every stroke in and send sparks flying.

“The next time we do this, I'm going to leave the candle burning. I want to see that pretty flush on your cheeks, see perfectly when you fall apart on my cock,” Cassian continues, his words sending Nesta higher and higher, release glimmering just out of reach. “You're already so beautiful, but I know I'm going to want this sight branded on the back of my eyelids forever.”

One of his hands slinks between them, finding her clit with ease. He strokes it in time with his snapping hips, and Nesta feels like she’s being consumed whole. She tries desperately to grasp at coherent thoughts, tries to form words, but she’s quickly dissolving into a mess of moans and Cassian’s name, a chant and a prayer.

“Come on, Nes. Give me one more,” Cassian requests, his own hips stuttering. “I know you can do it. Be my good girl and come all over my cock.”

The command snaps Nesta’s final tether. Her back bows off the bed as she arches up against him, pleasure like she’s never felt before racing through her veins. Her toes curl, a near shout of Cassian’s name tearing from so deep within her chest, she swears it leaves claw marks behind. She’s half aware of Cassian continuing to move against her, but for a moment, she feels like she’s floating, like her body isn’t her own.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Cassian groans against her throat. “Fuck, nothing feels like you.”

Cassian’s hips still against her own, and then the cabin is blanketed in silence once again, just the sounds of their heaving breaths slowly quieting. Carefully, Cassian pushes off of her, and Nesta winces slightly at the drag.

“Sorry,” Cassian murmurs, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead.

Cassian clambers off the bed, grabbing a cloth and dipping it in the freshwater basin so they can clean themselves up, and then Nesta finds herself once again laying in bed with Cassian’s arms secure around her waist. Only this time, she lies facing him. This time, there’s nothing between them, not her shift, not his pants. This time, it’s just bodies pressed together, limbs tangled beneath the blankets.

Nesta’s whole body feels sated and heavy, her eyelids already beginning to droop, but she continues to trace the lines of Cassian’s tattoos that she can make out through the darkness with her fingertips, following them down his shoulders, over his collarbones, and down his chest. Her fingers skate over slightly raised skin, and her movements stop, a frown tugging down her lips.

“A sword,” Cassian answers the unasked question, his fingers curling gently around Nesta’s own and guiding her to trace the scar across his chest. He guides her hand to his other shoulder next, more raised skin, although the scar is smaller. “A dagger.” Their joined hands travel down until they’re pressed against his lower stomach, until Nesta feels puckered skin. “A pistol. During the war.”

Nesta swallows hard, a lump pressing against her windpipe, suddenly at a loss for words. She traces around the scar, feeling where the bullet must have hit, and barely tapers down a shudder. Cassian lifts her hand away again, this time bringing it up to his lips. He presses a kiss to her palm, and places her hand flat against the center of his chest, his heartbeat fluttering just beneath her touch.

“Yours.”

—

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[shebeafancyflapjack]

Lost Little Witch

A follow up to No Longer Her. Mary tries to take care of Silver after her ordeal but she might be too far gone.

-

T'were like manoeuvring a corpse as she led her darling girl up the stairs, her lithe form leaning heavily into Mary, barely moving anything except her feet with encouragement. Praise be there not be any guests for them to filter through, but the appearance of any builders in their bright orange jackets had Silver huddling closer to Mary in fright.

She stroked the young one's hair; "Only be Livings, swee'heart. They cannots see thee, 'member?"

No word of reply to confirm whether she did remember that, or much else besides. Mary looked down to see the girl's wide eyes darting about at the floors and walls in great confusion.

"Oh! Must all seem so strange to thine eyes, little'en." Mary reassured, "Been many changes since you was last 'ere. I shall explain in time. Let's just get you settled, ey."

At least the child's eyes did seem to still be working. Perhaps they simply needed adjusting to the light after so long being shrouded. The hallways were certainly much better lit than had been in the days of Heather and then Alison.

Mary reached to find Silver's hand and squeezed it tight, leading her through the door of Higham Suite.

"Good Lord! Silver!" Captain was the first to see.

Everyone else then turned, the whole crew present save for Robin, and Humphrey and Amy who had followed them down.

"Oh my! Hello, petal! You....You all right?" Asked Pat, probably realising as he asked that the girl was anything but.

Silver merely stared back at them all. Silent.

"Silvy! You're back!" Kitty darted forward; "Oh I've missed you so much! You poor dear, you must have been ever so lonely, not to mention bored! But I know plenty of new games for us to play! And so many fun dances and songs-!"

Before Kitty could get close enough to reach her hands out and try to hug Silver, the teenager flinched back and clapped her hands over her ears, emitting a frustrated sound from her throat without opening her mouth.

The Georgian stopped and shrank back, her hands poised together.

"Oh dear. Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean to..."

"It's all right, Kitty, love. It looks like she's just in shock." Pat tried to comfort her.

Mary kept her hands on Silver's shoulders. She seemed to be the only one who the girl would allow to be close to her.

"You be all right, darling girl. Just all a bit startlin' for you, ain't it. We'll take it slow, we wills." She reassured her, then looked to the pantsless Tory standing awkwardly by the window; "Julians, can yous turn the tap on in the bath that turns the water into that nice mist for us?"

"You mean...Oh. Well I suppose the steam room is out of use for now, we can make do."

He sidled past them and into the en suite, using his powers to turn the hot tap on.

Five minutes later, he walked back out.

"All ready for you, ladies. Enjoy." He said, dusting his hands off as if it were a great feat of strength; "Let it run as long as you like, it's unplugged and I can explain the water bill to Alison."

"Much 'preciated." Mary thanked him before guiding Silver into the bathroom; "Come along, little'en."

The girl was disturbingly compliant as Mary guided her to sit in the tub, herself kneeling beside her as the steam filled the room. They couldn't feel the warmth of the water, but the air in such a state always had a calming effect, as they'd all learned to appreciate since the spa below had been built.

Silver tugged her knees up to her chest and hugged them tight, eyes staring at the water running from the tap. She rarely blinked, though when she did Mary noticed they were big, long ones. Like a cat.

Mary gently rubbed her back, "D'you remember, in the years before Al'son arrived, when the days would be ever so long and boring, we'd amuse ourselves by playin' those little games of make believe? Where we'd pretend to be fancy folk on our ways at a rich party? Or on a quest in a magical kingdom of tiny peoples?"

The teenager turned her head to meet her eyes, just for a second, before lowering them again.

"Well, how's abouts we play that again? 'Cept this time, we can pretend you been on a wondrous trip to all the corners of the world." Mary moved to sit on the edge of the tub, her hands moving to massage Silver's scalp, as if she were rubbing shampoo into her hair; "You dids have to go through many tough times but now you is home. Safe n' sound. And it be time yous be looked after. Shall we do that, darling girl?"

Still no reply. All the child did was let out a big, sad sigh and rest her chin on the folds of her arms.

Mary's ached at how quiet she was, reminded of her own muteness after her death. It had taken nearly a hundred years before Annie came along to help her find her voice again. Not to say Robin and Head Bit hadn't been kind to her in all that time, but they hadn't been able to reach her as Annie had.

Sucking in her worry for now, Mary forced her most cheery voice, humming as she pretended she were just a mother helping bathe her tired daughter, weary from her travels.

"All sounds very excitin', my love. How brave you is, facin' down thems terrible beasts." She spoke, miming rinsing the shampoo off and then smoothing in that cream the modern women now use to rid themselves of tangles, her hands sliding gently through Silver's short hair; "I know yous must have missed us all, not 'alf as much as we missed you. Took the sunshine with you when you dids depart from us, wicked girl."

She tries to tease, as they always did before, but the words make Silver flinch and lower her gaze in shame.

Mary tuts and wraps her arms around her shoulders.

"But yous is back now. And you 'membered to bring all the sun and stars with ye. Good girl." She kissed her temple and just continued to rub her shoulders as she watched the spa people often do to the folk who sleep on tables.

It took a few minutes, but she was sure Silver begun to lean back into her hands, her trembling starting to decrease.

After the 'bath', Mary doesn't take her back into Higham Suite, instead choosing to escort her up to her mostly unused room. She guides her around some of the storage boxes to the unused bed, sitting her down and keeping hold of her hand.

She began to gently fill her in on all that had happened since the day she 'disappeared'. Alison and Mike being offered to sell everything to the hotel people, initially refusing, then Mia being born and how that had changed everything.

"They still visit oft'. And she were kind to leave us a room just for us. But Is still likes to come up here when I needs peace and quiet." Mary explained, one arm around Silver as the teen rested her head on her shoulder; "Don't get much disturbance, 'cept when two of the servants want to sneak off for 'orseplay. That ain't happened in many a year though."

She could see Silver's fingers constantly relaxing and then constricting tight in her lap, digging into the holes of her tights in a pattern.

"You don' 'ave to speak till you be ready, little'en, but...If there be anythin' you wanna tell us, then-."

A pair of boots came running down the hall. Silver tensed beside Mary as a figure passed through the wall.

Robin panted, having clearly run as fast as he could from however far away someone had found him to tell him the news. He stared at Silver in disbelief.

"....Moonah Girl?"

The Pagan blinked again, showing little reaction.

Robin stepped cautiously as he approached, kneeling down to below her eye level. He flared his nostrils, as if checking his nose to be sure it was really her, without invading her space.

"Be weary, Robin. She be bit out of sorts, aren't you, love?" Mary rubbed her shoulders.

The caveman was gentle as he reached his paw forward, his wrist limp as he touched her cheek. Silver's eyes darted to his hand, then her own moved up to stroke a finger along the cuff of grey fur.

Her lips moved without sound.

"Me looked for you. Me did." Robin said, earnestly, "Many, many months I hunt, all over, and every Moonah I visit..."

Silver didn't seem to be listening. The girl was more invested in rubbing the fur and then tugging it to her face to feel it against her cheek. Robin indulged her, watching her carefully, as if studying her reactions.

It was then that Mary noticed how her darling girl seemed to be more interested in what she could feel around her. The grips on the fabric of Mary's dress, smoothing her palm across the base of the bath as she'd sat amidst the steam, and now Robin's furs.

Of course....surrounded by nothing but pitch black dirt for all these years, touch must be as much a wonder to her as what her eyes and ears behold.

"Mayhaps it best you try to sleep, darling girl. Good rest will do thee the worlds o' good." Mary encouraged, brightly.

"Uhh." Robin caught her attention and then pointed to the window.

The full moon hung bright behind a veil of thin clouds.

Mary clicked her tongue; "Oh! Ain't I a daft wench. I dids forget." She shook her head; "Stills. Maybes we just have a lie down in quiets, till you is ready to go out? How's that sound?"

Silver turned to look at Mary, leaning against her hold still. Then she looked at Robin's paw and tugged on his sleeve. Another hum rose up from her throat. Pleading, this time.

"You wants Robin to stay with us?" Asked Mary.

More humming, the slightest nod. Yes.

"'Course, me stay. Always stay for Moonah Girl." He forced a smile and moved to sit on her other side.

Mary looked at him gratefully, burying the quick rush of anger that had unfairly sprung up when he'd walked through the door. How could he not have known where she was? All the time he's been trapped here, how has he never seen anyone get lost as she had, that the thought never had occurred to him?! She knew it wasn't fair. She'd been none the wiser than he had...but she needed someone to take the blame.

"Was just filling the little'en in on all that did occur in her absence." She said, softly.

"Ooh, yes. Lots of good stories to tell. Me got plenty."

The two managed to coax the girl to settle back against the pillows, Robin and Mary laying either side, close enough for her to feel them both in a protective sandwich.

As they talked, more to fill the silence but keeping their voices soft so as not to overwhelm her, Silver kept mostly fixated on touching Robin's furs, then his beard and hair, then Mary's dress or just interlacing their hands together.

There were questions Mary wanted to ask.

How did you get trapped? What did you do to try to escape? Be anyone else down there? Did thou give up attempting to find a way out or rather were thee trapped in an endless circle of darkness?

But none of them seemed to matter as she looked at the girl. She doubted she would, or rather could, answer any of them.

-

This is by the far one of the strangest dreams she's had by far.

Usually they're always the same. She returns to the light, familiar faces are there to welcome her, cheery smiles and open arms. The house never changes. The wallpaper is still peeling, the corners full of cobwebs, windows cracked or taped over. Always people she knows. Her friends. Her newfound family. No livings except the couple who inherited the house, one of them smiling at the sight of her return, the other oblivious as always.

This one started off as it always did. She stumbled out. The plague ghosts are not always the first to greet her but that would make sense so it's hardly a shocker. And then comes Mary. Mary with her arms wide open. Mary with soft words and promises of safety and comfort.

But this time something was off. There was a new face. A girl...holding Humphrey's head in her arms, like a stuffed toy. Why would this strange girl be in her dreams? Her brain has trouble holding onto what got left behind, why is it inventing new things?

Then there was the house. So bright. So clean. So full of Life. Too many Lives. Too much noise. Too much to avoid walking into.

Everything was much too solid. Too noisy. Too close.

Get back. Get back! GET BACK!

When things get too real, she wakes. She doesn't want to wake. Wants to make the dream last as long as possible. Most times she's forced to wake up as soon as a hand reaches to hold hers. So why was it that this one continued on with all the hugs Mary was giving her?

How come she can feel in this dream? Feel more than just...the dirt. The nothing.

Silver lays in the bed, staring up at the plastered ceiling. No outdated artex pattern. Even for a junk room, it had been decorated. Mary and Robin lay either side of her, having succumbed to sleep, despite their best efforts. Despite their promises to stay awake with her. Mary's arm is around her stomach, while Robin's hand is resting near her shoulder. The teen has to keep touching it, waiting for the moment it becomes too much, for the trigger that causes her to wake. To return.

Any second now. The longer it goes on, the more painful it is. Best to get it over with.

Stop teasing her. Stop prolonging the inevitable.

Something thumps beneath the bed.

Like the beating of a heart buried deep beneath the foundations of the house.

Calling her back.

Silver sits up. She takes a look at the faces of those either side of her. This had been nice, while it lasted, but everything has to end. With any luck, she would get to repeat this dream again.

She slips off the bed and pads her way through the door. No one is awake at this late hour, she's sure, not that it should matter as none of it is real anyway. But the best way to navigate through dreams, to control them in a lucid state, is often to play into the dreams rules.

As she passes by the door to Kitty's room, with the new plaque placed across reading Higham Suite - another curious new detail - she pauses. There are voices murmuring within. She presses her ear to the door.

"What did Robin say when you told him?" Fanny asked, curiously.

"Not a word. Great ape bolted off faster than he does when seeing a squirrel." Julian replied.

"Poor thing. Can't imagine what must be going through her head." Pat sighed.

Captain cleared his throat; "I agree. The look in her eyes, same one I remember seeing on the boys who came back from the Front. Like a walking corpse. Which, I suppose we all technically are, but...For many of them there was no coming back. They were like that until their twilight years. Empty shells of human beings."

"Might have been better off leaving her there if it's what she's adapted to, can be harder adjusting to the outside." Julian mused.

"Not everything is the bloody Shawshank Redemption, Julian!" Pat scalded him.

"I'm just saying! Hope Mary and Robin know they've got their work cut out of them if they're hoping the kid will ever be normal again. Or, well, whatever you could call what she was before."

Silver moved her head away. Funny. Their conversations sounded the most familiar out of everything. Despite the harshness of their judgements, it was almost as comforting as the softness of Robin's pelts or the warm caress of Mary's hands.

They were right, however. She knew they were right. She didn't belong here.

She walks down the stairs and into the kitchen, barely recognisable from the dank old space they'd often all gathered in to annoy Alison at breakfast. All clean and modernised for catering to the public. But quiet in the middle of the night. Moonlight shone through the high window at the back. Silver didn’t dare to approach its beams.

Instead, she hunkered down to the floor and pressed her ear against it. The beating rhythm pulsed against her. Demanding her return. Now.

"Soon." She whispers, her voice barely audible from years of disuse, "Will come home soon. Promise."

The beat turns into a thump. Furious. Enraged.

Silver's hand claps over her ear as she shudders, curling up into a ball. Her next whisper is slightly louder, as she's confident no one will have reason to be wandering the kitchens at this time of night.

"Don't be mad. Please. Just one more day. Only one. Please. J-just let me say goodbye...Then I won't leave again. I promise."

[starlightwayfinder]

For the friendship ask game: 🎮 and/or 🎤 for the Wayfinder Trio!

🎮 Games — what's the friend group's go-to party game, and what does each person suggest to play when they're in charge of choosing?

First of all: I love that people imagine Command Board as an actual board game the three of them play. Aside from that, Aqua leans towards strategy games that she and Eraqus used to play—Alba and Ater is one of them. (Please imagine Eraqus going very easy on a tiny Aqua learning to play chess with him.) Unfortunately her favorite games are usually 1vs1 and a little outside Ven’s skill set. She remedies that by playing on a “team” with him against Terra 😉. And yes, she’s very competitive.

Ven is… not a strategy game sort of guy. If the game has too many rules he’s going to get bored having to sit through the explanation. He’s more interested in stuff like charades and freeze tag and throwing the frisbee on the beach—So really anything that will inevitably evolve into everyone laughing without a clear “winner”. I joke a lot about him always being sleepy, but the truth is he starts out super energetic and crashes as a consequence of that. He’d be really good at leading group activities for kids too—like a fun-loving camp counselor that they all want to play with. (And I just know he'd be good at including the kids who usually feel left out.) 

Terra would probably be somewhere between the two. He’s clever enough to hold his own against Aqua in strategy games, but he has no poker face. Similar to Ven, he likes the more athletic games too, but he’s a little slow when it comes to running. 

🎤 Karaoke — what's their go-to karaoke songs, for when they're taking turns singing and what duet do they choose when they're singing together?

Ven’s a great singer, and he has that Disney character gene that makes him comfortable singing whenever. Terra and Aqua… don’t. Aqua can try to sing, but she gets embarrassed about it easily. Terra doesn’t even try, but he plays the guitar and has some musical knowledge thanks to that. 

Ven has a music player in his room, so he’ll encourage karaoke nights/“concerts” to sing and dance and be silly. It’s a nice break from training, since that can get really serious. Terra and Aqua are used to it, but I think the other Guardians would be surprised since he can come off as a quieter person around them.  

For duets, I’d like to imagine there are some “Keyblade wielder” songs that have been passed down. The lyrics are about connections across worlds and finding comfort in the light. Some of them Ven already knew—(hint hint, wink wink.) Others they taught to him. They’re quiet and softer since they’re older songs, but they’re very pretty and moving to hear. With Terra playing guitar, Ven singing, and Aqua humming along (and maybe even joining in, if they’re alone) you can really tell how “in tune” they are, in more ways than one. 

[rockyroadsmith]

The Searchers' love language?

Heya! Thank you so much for the ask! I’m so sorry, I tried to think of what I could draw to go along with this, but most required I draw each Searcher with their loved one and I wasn’t sure who to draw them with. XP I’ve heard of the 5 love languages before, but never actually looked them up so this was neat to learn about! For other people who aren’t sure, the 5 love languages are: words of affirmation, quality time, physical touch, acts of service, and receiving gifts. It’s really fun to think about how these fit in the Monster Rancher cast!

Alright, let’s do this! X3

Genki: I think I have to go with “quality time” for Genki. We don’t get to see much of Genki spending one-on-one time with his friends since they’re usually always together as a group, but we can see that he loves being on the same page as his friends and I think if he were in a relationship, quality time together would be a must. Genki would want to know how his significant other’s day was, how they’re feeling, and literally anything that came to mind. Friendship is really important to Genki, but he’d learn quickly that so is a romantic relationship, too, so he’d have to learn to balance both. In episode 64 “Legend of the Great White Most”, we see that while the monsters are off training, Genki and Holly are having dessert together. We see that he misses the others but, after encouragement from Holly, he brightens up and they continue to have a good day together. In episode 31 “Amusement Park Ruins”, Genki tries his best to make sure Holly has a good time by trying to get the tea cup ride to work and even though it’s broken, Genki’s priority was still Holly and they still were able to have some quality time together. Such a cute moment! :3

Holly: for Holly, I’m gonna have to go with “acts of service”. Throughout the series, Holly is the main caretaker of the group and is usually the one we see doing things like the cooking and tending to the other Searchers’ wounds without getting thanks. When the others go out of their way to do something kind in return, however, you can see how much it means to her. In episode 24 “Undine’s Lake”, Holly has hurt her ankle and feels guilty about slowing the group down. To help her out, Genki places a wet rag on her hurt ankle while Golem gets some healing herbs for her, and you can see in both instances that it meant a lot to her. A big moment of this can be seen in episode 37 “Holly’s Happy Birthday”, when the Searchers surprise Holly with a little party for her birthday, Holly is so touched that she tears up. I can see if she were in a relationship, that Holly couldn’t help her nurturing nature and would still act as a caretaker, so receiving acts of service from her significant other would really mean a lot to her. ^_^

Mocchi: I think Mocchi fits so well into all of the love languages! For this ask, I’ll go with “receiving gifts”, since we see many times in the series his reaction to getting things is too adorable. When Golem gives Mocchi food in episode 4 “Eternal Worm”, the way Mocchi’s face lights up and his tone when thanking Golem just melts your heart! Mocchi would definitely love gifts of food best! Not so much a gift but, in episode 32 “Holly’s Million Gold Smile”, Mocchi’s reaction to getting the cape that can “make you fly” gets me every time. He’s so freaking psyched, like he just won the lottery, and seeing him running along the beach with the cape on is enough to make you squeal into a pillow from cuteness overload. XD

Suezo: even though I almost put “physical touch” for Suezo since he’s a bit of a pervert, I think his would actually be “words of affirmation”. Throughout the series, we see a lot of moments of Suezo being arrogant and sarcastic, but a lot of this stems from his own insecurities. Although he puts on a brave front, Suezo is often seen to have a lot of self-doubt about himself, like we see in episode 19 “Suezo’s Secret Weapon”. He even goes as far as to mention that he misses when it was just him and Holly since he feels so insignificant compared to the other Searchers. I think Suezo needs loving and encouraging words from his partner to keep him from getting negative about himself and it’s something that he would secretly treasure behind a mask of perverted comments. XD

Golem: I think Golem would like “quality time” the most. He spent a long time alone guarding the Lost Discs at the ruins when Genki first meets him, and we see him really open up the longer he travels with the Searchers. He may not speak a whole lot, but he loves to listen to those he cares about and does talk a lot more to those he trusts. Even in episode 24 “Undine’s Lake”, he enjoyed talking with Undine at the lakeside and even though he wouldn’t enter the water to physically be with her, he was more than happy just talking on shore and enjoying the moment of serenity. ^_^

Tiger: at first I was going to go with “words of affirmation” for Tiger since we see he loves to be praised but, after thinking about it more romantically, I have to go with “physical touch”. At the very end of episode 51 “Battle for the Rookie Cup”, the Searchers finally reunite with Tiger. He gets angry when everyone grabs onto him, but it’s different with Holly. As Holly approaches him, his face lights up and you can literally see him melt when she starts to stroke his fur. Then, when she brings him in for a tender hug, Tiger just leans into it and smiles. This is such a rare moment where we see Tiger so happy and relaxed, it’s so darn sweet! Then the other Searchers make comment about it, causing Tiger to blush and get defensive. He wouldn’t let just anyone touch him like that unless they were special to him and it really showed just how much he really enjoyed physical affection. :3

Hare: even though we know Hare loves gold so at first I thought “receiving gifts”, I think I have to go with “physical touch” for him when we’re talking about romance. I say this mostly because of episode 37 “Holly’s Happy Birthday”, when Mocchi gives Holly a peck on the cheek, Hare’s immediate action is to launch himself at Holly to get a kiss for himself. There are hints throughout the series that Hare has some feelings for Holly and even though he’s typically a very guarded character, in this moment he completely throws that aside and lets his guard down in hopes of getting a kiss from Holly. ^_^

[druidgroves]

7-10 from story specific for feron 💚

companion!tav ask meme

eeeee thank u null !!

7. What can they be found doing at the tiefling/goblin party?

Tiefling party: Feron would be away from the party like Wyll...but on the other end of the beach. She's not a fan of crowds, people, or parties, but she'll partake in the drinking, to which Tav would find her already drunk (first time trying alcohol in this AU!). She won't show it until Tav approaches her & she actually grins at them like "If it isn't the hero of the hour! Here, have a drink. I've already had several. I've never had a drink until now. I mean, of course I've had water, but I've never had this." Tav has the option to encourage her to slow down, to challenge her, or call her a light weight who can't handle her drink.

Goblin party: Feron would be in Wyll's spot on the beach, drinking by herself. Same as before, she's drunk but Tav wouldn't know unless they approach. In this case, however, she's less of a cheery drunk & more a contemplative one. She'll tell Tav "You know, before I escaped Margaery and left the Reaching Wood, I thought I'd never see another goblin ever again. But then I got caught by the Nautiloid like a rabbit in a snare and here I am, drinking their alcohol and celebrating their act of slaughter. I suppose you never really escape some things." Here, Tav can tell her to slow down again, tell her she's a depressing drunk, or try to get her into the party spirit (it does not work).

8. Do they have comments on who the Player Character chooses to spend the night with?

If it happens the night of the tiefling/goblin party, she'll say "Watch where you wander off to. Would be a shame if [an errant goblin/a vengeful tiefling] cut your tryst short."

Any time else, she'll just say "As long as you take it in the opposite direction of my hunting grounds, I don't particularly care. Have fun, I suppose? I'm not sure what you want me to say."

9. Do they have unique dialogue if the Player Character lets them die when they steal the Blood of Lathander?

I've only played this quest once & don't remember any of it so unfortunately this will be left unanswered </3 rip

10. How do they react if the PC licks the dead spider in the Gauntlet of Shar?

First time: "Even in my wild shape I've never stooped so low. Quit that."

Second time: "Knock it off!"

[watermelonsugacry]

I know we kinda know how YN is whenever Harry goes out on stage but how does he react to her being on stage? I would LOVE to see that dynamic

Whenever Harry is preparing for a show, his green room has an overall calm vibe to it: he brushes his teeth at least twice, everyone sits around on the leather couches and chats, cracking jokes, and gets dressed in his outfit for the night.

For YN's shows, she's never off her feet. Much like Harry though, when YN gets to the venue she's performing at, she's working out—running up and down the stairs, doing lunges all around the perimeter of the vast room.

If Harry was with her during the day, he would sit and watch as she zooms through her workout. When he would see her slowing down on never-ending steps, he would join her on the stairs and encourage her to continue with comforting words or (the most effective method) make it a competition to get through her exercises.

Then she does run-throughs of her dance routines on stage with her tour dancers. Sometimes they're full out or just vaguely going through their places. Harry respects her space when she's focused on her dancing so he likes to sit on one of the equipment boxes in the pit with her manager. He just sits there, one leg over the other with his chin resting in the palm of his hand and a fond smile on his lips.

He loves to see her move around the stage in the way that she does. He has a front-row seat to see the way her deliciously toned and thick thighs move with strength and grace. His eyes love to scan over the strip of skin between her athletic shorts and tank top—one of his favorite places he loves to take a bite out of. And speaking of his favorite parts of her he loves to sink his teeth into, he doesn't even try to hide the way his gaze drops to the way her bum bounces when she goes from jumping around the stage to her final pose.

When she has to go to her dressing room to shower and get her makeup done, Harry's there to chit-chat with her about anything and everything. He waits patiently on one of the leather couches and talks with his fiancée's manager, Jeff, and a couple of other people from her team. When she finally emerges in her first outfit for the night, she immediately goes to the full-length mirror to adjust the fluffy material on her shoulders.

A smile creeps its way on her face when she sees her love's ring covered hands run over her glittery torso and he holds her from behind.

"So pretty," He mumbles against her temple before planting a kiss there.

One thing Harry admires about YN is that she takes the time to appreciate the people on her tour team.

When she walks down the venue halls, she addresses everyone she passes by name, even stopping by the lesser appreciated technician crew members and asking about the daily updates about their families. It's quite a sight to see her decked out in her full glittery, pink stage outfit next to her crew members in their black attire.

One of her favorite times before heading further backstage is to stop by the greenroom where her four tour dance crew members finish getting ready. For a good ten minutes, they just blast some music and dance like it's one big party to hype them up for the sold-out show.

And when it's time to officially head to the stage, YN threads her fingers with Harry's as they walk backstage. The crew members shine their flashlights on their feet as they navigate the dark areas. She takes a moment to shake out her limbs, closing her eyes and lulling her head from shoulder to shoulder.

As her introduction video begins to end, the two are escorted further down to get under the stage. She can hear the fans screaming and it only gets her more excited to get on stage. Once she's crouching down on the risen platform, she grips onto her fiancé's hand one more time and takes a deep breath.

"Have fun out there," YN nods her head with a breathtaking smile at his words. "I love you."

"I love you," She yells over the increasing sound of her awaiting fans.

Despite her getting in trouble multiple times from her make-up artist, she still leans in to give her love their traditional kiss before heading out on stage. And without fail, YN giggles when she sees how some of her lip gloss stays on his lips.

She giddily moves her fingers together at the twinkly sound of her opening song, Juicy.

With a nod from her backstage crew, she plants her feet securely on the platform to move into her opening pose as they begin to lift her on stage.

Harry laughs when she throws him a cheeky smile before quickly getting into her happily pleased expression, like her performing to a stadium full of fans didn't affect her.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

Taglist:

@wobblymug @be-with-me-so-happily @ashtongivesmebutterflies @kiwiskiwiskiwi @darlingdesire @obsesseddd @hopefulwastelandcreation @cacapeepee @breezie-b00 @harrysfolklore @theekyliepage @sunshinemoonsposts @nervousspiderling @tbslonelyhes @tenaciousperfectionunknown @harrystylesrecs @certified-nalayak @itsjustsel @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @gviosca @behindmygreyeyes @twobluejeans @allisonxmcu @theemeraldbutterfly @jean-love @marvellover-sam @b-reads-things @reveriehs @rach2602 @thurhomish @perrypughstyles @luvonstyles @mxltifxnd0m @teamspideyman @c00chiemonster @juiceboxrry @s8tellite @folklorehrry @illicithallways @claramllera @eunoiaax @hoya122 @nichmedder @sleutherclaw @gloriousmoneyrascalbiscuit @harianaswhore @teawithcyb0rgs @vrittivsanghavi @vc55bughead @futuristiccroissantlampsludge @onecrazydirectioner @valluvsu @itsgabbysblog @awkwardbisexuall @rosehel @sucker4angstt @isalove @diorchives @mrshiddlestyles02

[ch3rrysystem]

Oblivious

A/N: my first attempt at a drabble on here, and it's much longer than the drabble I expected to write. Special thanks to my bestie for encouraging me to make this, ily <3

Jacob x GN!Reader, Submissive Jacob, Praise Kink, Handjobs, Semi-Public Sex, Jealousy

TWs: None

He was too oblivious for his own good.

That, or he enjoyed making you jealous.

"You've never had one? You can't be serious!"

Jacob had a knack for this. For pulling people in with his charisma alone.

He didn't mean anything by the hand he put on Emma's forearm— truly, he just wanted her to try the food he'd brought.

He was too oblivious for his own good.

Prying yourself from the wall, you take slow strides over to your boyfriend, forcing a yawn as you take your rightful place beside him, opposite of the girl he's currently touching. It takes everything in you not to pry his hand off of Emma's skin.

"Hey," Jacob exclaims, puppy dog eyes lighting up at the sight of you. You know he never looks at anyone else like this— that he'll never love anyone the way that he loves you. But it doesn't stop the jealousy that boils hot in the pit of your stomach. "How're you feeling?" Ever the caring boyfriend, you could almost snuff the flames of jealousy inside of you.

Almost.

"Good," you grin. "A bit tired. I don't know how you all stay up so late," a light chuckle follows your sentence as you begin to make small talk with the others in the room. You hope the sweetness of your tone masks the aggressive way you intertwine your fingers in Jacob's own.

Slightly startled, Jacob looks from your touch to the feeling of Emma's arm in his other hand. If you didn't know him, you'd think he'd connect the dots.

But he doesn't. Of course he doesn't. Your sweet, stupid boy.

"The night's still young, the party's barely started—" Jacob cheers, the other counselors occupying the dining hall erupting into excited agreement.

It takes everything in you to stop your eye from twitching, free hand moving to gently slap down on his clothed chest— square on his sternum. "Well, you party animals have fun— I'm gonna hit the hay." you beam, overly friendly— tugging on Jacob's hand. You're careful to lock eyes with him as you pull away, turning to leave for your cabin.

You'd never bet on Jacob's smarts, but you'll always bet on his clinginess.

It isn't long before your slow footsteps away from the dining hall are followed by a pair behind you— speeding up before slowing down as Jacob appears at your side.

He's barely able to get a breath in before you've got his shirt crumpled in your tight fists, catching him off guard as you slam him against the nearest tree.

"What's it gonna take for you to realize?"

Jacob, baffled, stammers in confusion. "Realize what?"

It's almost comedic how unaware he is.

"Realize what you do to me, Jacob—" your anger finally boils over, lips pressing harshly against his— causing a startled groan to tumble from his mouth into yours.

Jacob isn't one to deny your affection, quickly molding his lips to your own.

This isn't over yet.

Prying your hands from his shirt, you reach to grasp each of his wrists— moving his hands and slotting them into place at your waist.

You pull your lips away from Jacob's— just enough for your breath to fan against his kiss-bruised mouth.

"You're all mine. You know that, right?" You breathe, such possessive words laced in a tone of sickening sweetness that nearly sends Jacob to his knees.

His heart pounds, nerves standing on end. To be wanted by you so deeply makes his throat dry up and his cock ache from beneath his clothes.

You want him, and who's he to deny you your desires?

"Yeah— Yeah, of course— What's this about, anyway?—" He fumbles over his words, as confused as ever.

If you didn't love him so much, know him so deeply and so passionately, you might feel the urge to choke him for his obliviousness.

You tactfully dance around a direct reply, your fingers finding their way to Jacob's shorts— fingertips slipping just beneath the waistband before slowly pulling them down. "No one can make you feel this good, got it?"

Jacob opens his mouth to respond— to stutter— to breathe— to react in any way aside from his racing heartbeat. But you, running on nothing but frustration and jealousy, short circuit his brain as delicate fingertips slip beneath his boxers and wrap around his aching erection.

He groans in shocked pleasure, quickly sinking his teeth into his bottom lip— face heating up until it burns to the touch. No one's around, not yet, but the risk of being seen like this makes his cock throb.

Your eyebrows furrow, ticked off at his lack of verbal response. wrapping your thumb and index finger around the base of his shaft— you squeeze, causing a shaky whimper to slip past his lips. "got it?"

"Yeah— yes— yes, but I—"

"But what?"

"Are you—" with one hand preoccupied at the base of his erection, your other hand moves to tease the tip of his cock— thumb making slow circles that cause Jacob's question to be cut off by the most heavenly whimper you've ever heard. "Are you jealous?"

You freeze.

A moment, and then you smile— a wide, borderline-psychotic grin that sends chills down your boyfriend's spine.

releasing the pressure from the base of his cock, the once preoccupied hand lifts upward to stroke his cheek— the other moving from his tip to stroke up and down his leaking erection.

"Jealous? I don't need to be jealous, Jacob—" you hum, pumping him increasingly faster. "Not when I'm the only one you'll moan for. Right?"

He flushes, embarrassment evident in his bitten lip and averted gaze.

Your brows furrow, free hand finding purchase on his jaw and forcing him to look you in the eyes. You lean your face in close, teasing him with a kiss as your lips brush against his mouth.

"Don't make me repeat myself again, Jacob." You threaten, sultry tone making his cock pulse in your grasp, precum dripping to the grassy floor beneath you both.

He nods, stifling a breathy groan as he mutters, "right," his hands at your waist tightening their grip in desperation.

Right.

He's all yours.

You're the only one that can make him feel this good.

With a pleased sigh, you lean in to peck his lips— Jacob's mouth chasing your own as you pull away with a satisfied smirk. "There, that wasn't so hard— now was it? You can be a good boy when you want to be," you breathe, an uncontrollable whine prying itself from his throat.

His body shudders, uncontrollably pilant in the wake of your praise. "Say it again," he groans, firm hands pulling your body closer to his— dripping cock pressed between your flush bodies.

You hum— a sweet, melodic thing, taking time to bask in Jacob's heated expression. "What? You want me to call you a good boy? My good boy?" you smirk, seeing a shift in his aroused gaze as he nods once again.

The delicate hand wrapped around his cock slows, pumping at a pace just barely fast enough to keep his nerves alight— but slow enough to drive him mad. "Good boys don't put their hands on other girls, now do they?" you continue, watching the lightbulb above his head finally flicker.

"Wait— this is about Emma? I—" he falters, breathless, whimpering as you press your thumb firmly against his leaking tip— precum unable to drip free of his erection.

"Don't say her name, Jacob. You've made me very frustrated today, you know that?" You chastise, tone as soft as ever. He begins to shift underneath your hold, desperate for relief as his climax is prolonged even further.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry— just, please— fuck—" He whines, hip twitching. "I didn't mean it."

You lean your face in close, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. "I know you didn't, Jacob. I know you want to be good for me, yeah?"

He nods, letting out a strangled grunt as your slow pumping begins to steadily increase— quickly becoming so fast that Jacob can feel his release pooling at the base of his cock.

You freeze, and a desperate sob escapes him.

"Don't nod, Jacob. Answer me."

You drive him insane.

And he loves it.

"Yes— yeah, yes— always—" He whines, words morphing into incoherent moans as your pace picks up once again.

Kissing from the corner of his mouth to his ear, you whisper, "Good boy, Jacob. You're always so good for me."

That does it.

Hands gripping impossibly tight at your sides, Jacob's face falls into the crook of your neck— clinging to you for dear life as he cums, sticky release flooding your hand with every painful throb of his cock. He moans against your skin— a loud, strangled song of curses and "I love you"'s.

You smile, finally satisfied as your free hand wraps around his body— the other pumping him slowly through his orgasm— slipping his cock back into his boxers once it begins to soften.

"feel good?" You ask, nuzzling into his hair and pressing a loving kiss to his head. He nods, and you don't chastise him for it.

He's been very, very good, after all.

[takes1]

dabi becoming obsessed with inexperienced!reader p.2

oooh this one was fun to write i literally have so many ideas for the rest of this series aahhh!! looking like it'll be a 4 or 5-part thing. also thanks for the support ya'll it really helps my motivation :,)

warnings. nsfw, dabi being scared of rats

details. fem!reader / lov recruit!reader / inexperienced!reader / corruption!kink dabi / mutual masturbation / lots of d. piercings / lusty pining or lo-cal!yandere? / 1.2k words

🤍 scenario series. dabi p.1 + 3 and full list here.

more links. my ao3 / dabi headcanons / requests open!!

A tiny sound stirred Dabi from his light rest. His eyes flew open, and after he sat up on his elbows, it was silent again.

Just his luck. Mice in the damn walls.

This apartment was supposed to be one of the newer complexes in the area-- there was no way an infestation could be justified and, after spending nearly a year in filth, he would not stand for even the smallest of rodential threats. He had more respect for himself than to deal with that again.

He was sent spiraling into an existential state. No hope for sleep now, as his heart began to pick up and his temperature rose. Covers shoved to the side, he sat up and rubbed his face with a deep sigh. It was possible that rats and bugs were his biggest fear, now. A reminder of some of his worst years.

There it was again. Squeezing away a flinch, he pressed his ear to the wall to try and locate where it was coming from, and in the morning, he'd be able to deal with it.

Except, that sound was no animal.

He parted from the wall momentarily to catch his stalled breath and chuckle, "Alrighty then, little mouse."

With Toga out on an assignment, it shouldn't have been a surprise that you took this opportunity to indulge.

How exhilarating. You weren't as above some animalistic impulses as he previously thought. Now equipped with this exceptional piece of information, he chose to believe that meant coercing you into letting him fuck you wasn't so ridiculous anymore.

He remembered the incredulous feeling of hearing Toga tell you to lock the door while she was gone. Of course, she kept her ridiculous reasoning to herself, but he gathered that she didn't trust him to 'keep a professional atmosphere' without her third-party presence.

He wasn't that bad, he would never just barge right in, he remembered thinking just five hours earlier. Now? That tiny clicked lock was for the best.

A newfound appreciation for your little apartment helped widen the crooked smirk on his face as he went back to listen again. Closed-mouth moans and the occasional squeak at your own fingers filled his head, fueled his overactive imagination, and stirred his cock.

Unable to restrain himself any longer, he whipped himself out from his sweats and shamelessly kept the side of his head glued to the wall. It took a moment to get comfortable, but he settled for lying down, easy since you sounded the clearest from that spot anyway.

Dabi had planned on stroking himself to sleep anyway, but this turn of events was far less sad of a thing to inspire self-gratification.

He started nice and slow to encourage himself to harden faster and to further incorporate your melody into his ever-inspired fantasies.

The glittering metal that rose with the tip of his dick brought about the surefire chance that you'd be terrified of this heavily pierced, thick monster. It wasn't much to him anymore, but even the experienced women he slept with all had a reaction to his long Jacob's Ladder and proud Prince Albert stud.

Like most of his burns, they looked more painful than they felt. By now, all the decorations didn't hurt, but helped to make the underside and head of his cock more sensitive. Those that gave it a chance found that the receiving end also made for a unique, fun time.

Lazy eyes flicked from his tall, throbbing hard-on in his palm to the blank wall, then to his eyelids.

With those cute sounds, that addictive body you covered up too much, and a good gimmick, he could see you making bank as a camgirl, maybe getting the LOV a few thousand in a week.

That idea didn't get much traction with his libido, though. No way he'd let the whole world in on what was rightfully his.

Another high-pitched, muffled hum from the other room wracked his nerves. The dull relief of his own hand was nothing compared to what your pussy could do for him.

"Fuuck, baby girl," He mumbled, low and grumbly enough he was convinced you couldn't hear.

All he wanted was to teach you how to feel better than this, in ways you couldn't do on your own, couldn't reach with your own hands. He could make you dumb with pleasure, draw out much louder sounds than those pitiful whines, turn you into his own little slut, if only you'd just let him.

For now, it was closer to the other way around, with him desperate for some sign of receptiveness. Dabi even went as far, on a few separate occasions, to replicate that precious reaction to his nudity.

It was becoming a habit of his to 'forget' his clothes when he went to shower, then have to make a deliberate, leisurely trek to his room in just a towel when he knew you were either leaving for the evening or getting back from work.

He only stopped after he bumped into Twice instead and was pressured into a torturous conversation, his new hyperfixation, on the socio-political climate of the country. But he didn't regret it, he almost sent you into cardiac arrest with this tactic, and you were perfectly jumpy later when he sat next to you at a meeting.

His mind clouded with your doe-eyed expression as you became distracted by his scars and piercings, the image of his devilish smile burned in your mind, the image of your flustered face burned in his. You had the best dick-sucking eyes; not to mention the prettiest, puffy lips. That strawberry chapstick you favored so much was one lucky piece of plastic.

The things he'd do to that innocent face-- his hand stalled and he sucked in a breath of cold air. How were you not done yet?

"Shit-- Ugh, just cum already, damn," He chuckled under his breath with a big sigh, forced to edge himself on your weak moans.

It occurred to him that you probably didn't know your body well enough to cum any faster. But if you were under him, you'd have already finished so many times you'd be begging him to stop.

A drop of precum slid across cool metal, the vision of his cock bottoming out into your poor little cunt just one too many times a tempting one to cum to. He didn't just crave you. He was starved. Malnourished and destitute for something, some signal, the green light to reward this chase he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Your moans took on a more rushed, melty, sound, as you choked out a small whine of his name.

Dabi came hard to the realization that you had been getting off to him this entire time. Messy, hot white glazed his knuckles and flexed stomach while his other hand muffled the stuttery groans through it all.

Eyes wide, chest heaving, his orgasm, for once, did not make him tired. He wanted another. He wanted you. Damn that lock.

taglist:

@ptv-hades @croomdoom

[jingyismom]

Thanks everyone for the prompts! I decided to try and knock these all out in one go:

@thegirlwhotrashcans: remember, you asked for it. au, nobody dies, wwx and yanli bodyswap. they're married to lwj and jzx. 100% crack. bonus points if jin zixuan completely loses his shit and lwj looks very calm but loses his sh*t after everything is back to normal

@alightbuthappypen: Competency kink! One or both of them (when I say 'them' I mean wangxian obvs, I know what I'm about) getting hot and bothered about the other being amazing. On a nighthunt maybe? Or anywhere else that strikes your fancy!

@hearteyeswangji: WRITE MORE P*RN

I think I can manage that. With a few tweaks, accidental seriousness, and broad, ridiculous fix-its tacked on. I have no idea how long this might be. Let’s try it in installments? I’ll reblog and add on as I go. Maybe it’ll be fun. We’ll find out.

Disclaimer that this is just gonna go for it with no revising and no beta readers, so pls do not hold me to any conceivable standard of coherency thx

--

WILL INCLUDE: wangxian, xuanli, let jyl and lwj be friends agenda, canon divergence, fix-it, everybody lives, arranged marriage, bodyswap, light angst, getting together, Attempts at Comedy, eventual (light?) wangxian smut

The Sunshot Campaign has just been won. Everyone goes over to Jin Guangshan’s house after the Nightless City banquet, to Negotiate Stuff, and some hasty political marriages happen resulting in Xuanli Wedded Bliss and Wangxian Un-confessed Wedded Tension. Then, suddenly...a curse befalls our brave heroes.

--

Wei Wuxian wakes suddenly, feeling odd. He’s sleeping on his stomach for one thing, which is not his usual, but he feels warm and comfortable enough that he doesn’t think it strange. But then there is the scent of peonies and gardenias, which is both familiar and alien, somehow. It makes him open his eyes. 

Which is when he sees the hand before him on the bolster. It is slender and elegant. Small. Pale. Familiar? Wearing a jade bangle. He pushes himself up a bit, startled, only to see the hand move when he does. 

The hand. Is his hand. He stares at it. The shock of it, coupled with the early hour, leave his mind working very slowly.

At length, he becomes aware of an odd weight across his back, which then shifts. Wei Wuxian turns.

He is met with the sleepy, moon-eyed stare of one Jin Zixuan, still cradling him in his arms.

“What the fuck,” says Wei Wuxian. His voice is. Soft. And high.

He would think this was all some messed-up dream if not for the fact that his dreams of late have all been messed up in an entirely different way. He’s also certain, in an odd, detached way, that he never would have imagined the battle scars that mar Jin Zixuan’s distressingly visible skin.

Jin Zixuan’s brow furrows, and he blinks. “A-Li?”

“...What the fuck.”

~~~

When Lan Wangji wakes at his customary hour, he is just slightly more tired than usual. The coverlet over him is oddly heavy, but he does not give it any thought until light from the rising sun slips over an unfamiliar sill and into his eyes. His entire body goes tense as he remembers. 

Jinlintai. The long hours of debate, of negotiation. The hasty marriages. 

He sits up in his strange bed and turns. There, in the bed opposite, is Wei Ying’s sleeping form. Close, yet still distant. Safe, at least.

Lan Wangji relaxes, and takes a breath. It was a near thing, keeping the sects from demanding more and more from Wei Ying, from treating him like a criminal instead of the hero he is. But somehow, Jiang Wanyin and Xiongzhang ended up on the same page, defending him, working tirelessly toward a compromise with the more critical parties. And now Lan Wangji has the dubious honor of ‘keeping Wei Ying in check,’ as Yao-zongzhu so inelegantly put it, through marriage. 

A strictly political marriage. A convenient solution. To bind them together, to keep Wei Ying tied under the umbrella of Lan Wangji’s rigid honor. 

It is unclear, as of yet, if Wei Ying resents this arrangement. He has not been himself since Nightless City, and the destruction of Wen Ruohan’s forces. First his long coma, then a lingering tiredness that he has not seemed able to shake, which dampens his normally-vivid expressions of feeling.

Lan Wangji is worried. But this, at least, Wei Ying has made clear is unwelcome. He seems to want to pretend that nothing has changed. Not about himself, and not between the two of them. Lan Wangji has done his best to honor his wishes, despite everything.

Now, he rises and dresses before sinking into his morning meditation. It is still strange to do so fully dressed, weighed down by the propriety required for the public, but it has felt necessary, now that Wei Ying shares chambers with him. A physical manifestation of the barrier between them, more important than ever now that they are, bizarrely, married. 

Before his meditation is finished, he hears Wei Ying stir. It is unusual for him to wake so early. Lan Wangji’s eyes snap open, immediately searching him for signs of pain.

Wei Wuxian turns over, then goes very still. He sits bolt upright, searching the bed with wild eyes, then turns them on the room at large. When they land on Lan Wangji, he curls in on himself, the fingers of one hand tightening at the collars of his sleeping robe, clutching it closed.

“La—Lan-er-gongzi?” 

His voice is oddly breathy, and his eyes...they are wide with confusion, with just the slightest tinge of fear. Lan Wangji is struck nearly senseless by the term of address, aberrant in Wei Ying’s mouth.

“What is wrong?”

Searching the room again, Wei Wuxian moves toward the edge of the bed with a strangely graceful modesty. It looks alien on his long limbs. “My...my husband. Where…?”

The word jolts through Lan Wangji’s entire body. He has never heard Wei Ying say it before. He has...wanted to hear it. Dearly, he realizes suddenly. But it sounds wrong. Distressed. Everything Wei Ying says sounds wrong.

“Wei Ying,” he says. 

Wei Ying’s eyes snap to his. “A-Xian? Where is he? Is he with A-Xuan? Are they alright?”

Lan Wangji blinks at him, uncomprehending, for several seconds. Then he begins to understand.

“You are not—”

The doors to their chambers burst open, and Jiang Yanli rushes in. The tasteful purple and gold robes she has adopted in the few days since the weddings are loose, uncharacteristically askew—not impreprietous, but verging on it. She spots Lan Wangji and her stormy expression clears.

“Lan Zhan,” she says, and her shoulders droop. 

Lan Wangji blinks at her, thrown by her use of this name, then glances at Wei Ying, who has gone completely still, his mouth open in a small, shocked ‘o.’ Jiang Yanli follows his gaze and freezes.

Just then, Jin Zixuan comes barreling into the room, significantly more unkempt than his wife. He has not even tied back his hair. 

“A-Li,” he implores, “what’s happened? We can’t just go barging into our guests’,” he pauses, and bows awkwardly, hastily, to Lan Wangji and Wei Ying in turn, “rooms like this. Please,” he takes her arm, but she shakes him off. 

She’s still staring at Wei Ying. “Sh...Shijie?”

Wei Ying startles, and looks down at himself. He holds out his arms, his hands, and looks at those too. Then he looks up at Jiang Yanli. “A-Xian?”

“Shijie,” Jiang Yanli says, and slumps over to the bed, embracing Wei Ying.

“A-Li,” hisses Jin Zixuan, scandalized. 

Lan Wangji glances at Jin Zixuan’s wife embracing his own husband on the bed, and rises. He walks briskly past them all to shut the door. Then he returns. 

“Wei Ying,” he says again. Jiang Yanli looks up at him.

It is obvious, now that he has realized it. Her face, animated by his personality. The soft warmth of her eyes sharpened just so. The deliberately graceless way she threw herself—himself—into Wei Ying’s—no, Jiang Yanli’s—arms.

Lan Wangji takes a deep breath. “Is this a curse?”

“Yes,” Wei Ying says with Jiang Yanli’s face, but his own certainty.

“How can we break it?” Lan Wangji asks.

“I”m not sure, not yet. I need to try a few things—or—having the original curse would be safer.” He looks at his sister in his own body. “I...don’t really want to experiment with this.”

Jiang Yanli tsks and bumps his shoulder a little too forcefully, jostling Wei Ying in her currently slight form. “Vain,” she says, teasing.

“Shijieee,” he whines. It sounds bizarre in Jiang Yanli’s voice. “I don’t want to accidentally hurt you.”

“I know,” Jiang Yanli says, soothing. 

“Do you feel alright?” Wei Ying goes on, urgent.

“Perfectly alright, now that you’re both here,” she says, smiling at the newcomers in turn.

Something sharply acidic surges in Lan Wangji’s stomach at such a look on Wei Ying’s face, directed at...Jin Zixuan.

“Really, though,” Wei Ying presses, “any nausea? Dizziness? Pain? You’re not worried?”

“Not at all. Our A-Xian will figure it out.”

Lan Wangji watches as the appearance of Wei Ying’s knuckle affectionately brushes Jiang Yanli’s nose. 

Strange. It is all...so strange.

“If—”

“What is happening?” Jin Zixuan interrupts.

All three of them look at him. He stares between them, wild-eyed and desperately askew. Lan Wangji has never considered him to be particularly slow on the uptake, but he supposes allowances must be made for the stress of waking up with a stranger in one’s bed.

He does not care to investigate the perverse pang of jealousy he feels at the thought.

“A-Xuan, it’s me,” Jiang Yanli says. Jin Zixuan stares at her in Wei Ying’s body, uncomprehending. She goes on slowly, but not unkindly. “A-Xian and I have been cursed into each other’s bodies. He’s in there, and I’m in here.”

Her husband blinks several times, very quickly. Lan Wangji recognizes the moment it sinks in by the deep flush that rises across his entire face, and is certain he does not wish to know what precisely inspired it. 

Jin Zixuan takes an involuntary half-step back, then forward again, as he speaks with renewed urgency. “Why has this happened? Can it be undone?”

“Great questions,” Wei Ying says, falsely encouraging. Lan Wangji exchanges a glance with him, and it almost feels natural, to share such a thing with either Wei Ying or Jiang Yanli. “Someone was clearly either targeting me—that’s Wei Wuxian, that’s me, in here—or you...whom you know to be Jin Zixuan. I hope.”

Jin Zixuan turns a deeper shade of red. “Obviously,” he bites out. “But why?”

Wei Ying rolls his eyes dramatically. It is not something Lan Wangji ever imagined Jiang Yanli doing.

“We don’t know yet, but we will once we find and question the person responsible,” Wei Ying says. Jiang Yanli grips his arm suddenly. Wei Ying looks at her. “And yes, it can be undone. Of course it can. I’ll figure it out.”

“Cast a rebound,” Lan Wangji says, brisk. The more quickly they are done with this, the better.

Wei Ying’s face falls. “Ah,” he says, “well, we…”

“My cultivation is too weak for him to reliably use,” Jiang Yanli says suddenly. “And I’m not very good at the method, I’m afraid.”

Lan Wangji nods. Steps forward. Then hesitates. “If the curse was cast in such a way, one of you may end up in the caster’s body. And they in yours.”

They all look at Jiang Yanli. Her expression grows grim. “Alright,” she says, then looks to Lan Wangji. There is something steely in her expression that is familiar on Wei Ying’s face. “Thank you for the warning. Go ahead.”

Lan Wangji hesitates only a moment longer, expecting protests from the other two. But Wei Ying is wearing a small, knowing smile, and Jin Zixuan merely nods at her, reassuring. Lan Wangji senses his esteem for the Jin heir rising at such solid trust in his wife. 

He steps forward and casts the rebound. They all hold their breath. 

Wei Ying glances around, his wry expression entirely foreign on Jiang Yanli’s face. “Anything?”

“No,” says Jiang Yanli.

Wei Ying sighs. “More work for us, then.”

“A-Xian,” Jiang Yanli says, taking gentle hold of his wrist. “You know what this means.”

“Ah?”

“You’ll have to be me.”

“Ah. No, I—”

“A-Xian.”

Wei Ying scratches his head, a not-at-all ladylike gesture. “Or we could just stay in here and let these two investigate?”

The smile Jiang Yanli turns on him is tender, and knowing, and indulgent. “I’d like to see you try to sit still when there’s a puzzle to solve.”

He sighs. “Alright. But you have to be me, too.”

She nods, and theatrically slouches into a sprawling, sloppy posture. Wei Ying laughs, his head thrown back, a hand on his stomach. Jin Zixuan turns around, looking almost ill. 

Lan Wangji understands, and he doesn’t. It is dizzying, and distinctly wrong-looking, to see both of them this way. Yet there is also something endearing about it. About the parts of them that do overlap, and fit into each other better than one would expect. 

“A-Xuan,” Jiang Yanli calls softly, noticing her husband’s distress.

Lan Wangji gets the distinct impression that that tone in Wei Ying’s voice is not helping the situation.

“Jin-gongzi,” he says. “It would be best for all of us to go about our days as normal, and not to arouse suspicion. Wei Ying sleeps late, and will not be missed for the morning. Jin-shao-furen may claim mild illness until the afternoon. But you and I must behave as normal. There are still the other sects to host.”

“Yes,” Jin Zixuan says absently. He runs a hand over his face. “Yes. You’re right. A-Li—” he turns and looks at the pair of them on the bed, and pauses. He shakes his head as if to clear it. “I’ll go back and dress. Join me when—or—Wei—” he stops. “I will be attending my duties. Please let me know what else I can do.”

“Remember to act natural,” Jiang Yanli says. “When A-Xian joins you later, try to look less like a roasted tomato, hmm?”

Jin Zixuan’s mouth twists into a wry smile, and he nods at the floor, then flees the room. Jiang Yanli and Wei Ying turn their eyes to Lan Wangji.

“I shall also depart,” he says. He circles his arms to bow to Jiang Yanli, but Wei Ying stands and pulls him over toward the door. Lan Wangji lets him, and tries not to pull away from the improprietous touch from a married lady. 

“Lan Zhan,” he says, hushed and urgent. “I’m not...you don’t think I’m hurting her, am I? Just by being in here? Can you sense any resentment?”

Lan Wangji feels something tighten in his chest. Wei Ying has not let Lan Wangji so much as examine his pulse since he roused from his coma, but the idea that he is so constantly steeped in resentment as to cause worry that his very soul may be harmful...is distressing. He takes hold of his slender wrist carefully. It is still Jiang Yanli’s body, and he will treat it with the respect it is owed. 

“I cannot,” he says. The only energy in Jiang Yanli’s body is generated by her own small but steady golden core. “I sense nothing that may be harmful.”

Wei Ying lets out a relieved breath. “Alright. But, um. What about the other way? Is her...is my body harming her?”

Lan Wangji turns to go back and perform the same examination, but Wei Ying stops him. “No, that’s alright. I’ll. We’ll just get this over with, and we can. Between the two of us, we can fix whatever...whatever damage I do.”

Lan Wangji stares at him, but Wei Ying refuses to meet his eyes. At length, he nods. “We can.”

“Alright. Ah, thanks. You should go.”

Lan Wangji goes.