#especially since she knows nothing about star wars

[clone-whore-99]

My therapist: "so, how have you been since last week?"

Me: "awful, just terrible, but a new episode of bad batch came out yesterday and let me TELL YOU" *proceeds to spend the full hour on talking about the bad batch*

[sixosix]

i. summary it was not your intention to seduce lyney, really, he was just already so very weak for you.

lyney being a sucker for you: the drabble

ii. warnings wc 700, this drabble has been in my drafts since i finished sleight of hand LOL. A Little Steamy, but nothing happens, I LOVE FLUSTERED LYNEY!!

“And that’s a wrap! Thank you, everyone; it all went smoothly as planned. Pat yourselves on the back.”

A chorus of exhausted yet elated cheers rings backstage, not enough to rival the crowd outside, yet it is still much more satisfying to hear. Some of the crew went up to Lyney to pat his shoulder, congratulating him for once again another successful show. Lyney takes it all with a dazzling grin and unwavering confidence. Why, of course. We’ve been working day and night for this.

You ceremoniously step forward and give his side a gentle nudge. Lyney responds with a grin as he reciprocates the gesture. “That was a new one. Did you and Lynette practice that secretly to surprise us?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Lyney says, ironically knowing that he’d have to teach his crew about this as you mustn’t repeat the same trick twice.

Lyney spots his sister resting against a wall a few feet later. “You still want to buy that dessert, Lynette?”

Lynette’s eyes flicker to Lyney, then to you. “I’ll just meet you two there,” she tells Lyney, then walks off without waiting for goodbye.

“Huh, well.” People continue to filter out of the backstage, leaving you and Lyney alone in a dimly lit room, with props scattered all around and taking up enough space to have you and Lyney pressed against each other to not stumble over any of them. “Mon amour, how’d you enjoy the show?”

“It was splendid, of course. I especially liked the part where Lynette stole the spotlight—my favorite part of every show.”

“I understand, but be more nice to the star of the show, will you?” He’s deflated like a popped balloon. “I know you know how much work I put in to perfect everything.”

You laugh, brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face. “You think I pay attention to you that much?”

Lyney huffs. “You don’t have to be so coy. It’s my job to steal your attention, isn’t it? You’re also my assistant; surely you’ve learned a thing or two about magic tricks?”

“Of course I have,” you cede. “I’ve been watching it all, Lyney, don’t be teased so easily.”

“Well, it just seems to me you haven’t really been paying attention at all,” he feigns a pout.

“Really? Is this a test?” Lyney casts you a sly glance, and you return it with a scoff. “I’ve seen how you deceive them with your actions, distract them with your hands.” You nudge his chest with two fingers, and in the silence, you can hear how Lyney swallows air at the proximity. “You’ve got quite the skill with them.”

“You’ve been watching them pretty closely,” Lyney says quietly.

“Isn’t that the point? It just proves how talented of a magician you are.”

His face is a comical shade of red. He’s weak like that.

“What I learned while being part of your troupe, however, is that I could be saying anything, and my audience wouldn’t really care.” You trail your fingers up, and up, slowly, and Lyney’s breath all but hitches once you reach his neck. “Because I’m making you watch my hands—bring all your attention to what I do and not what I say.”

“Yeah,” Lyney agrees absentmindedly, like a hypnotized man—the irony.

And it’s then you realize that he isn’t looking at your hand at all. His eyes are gazing intensely right below your nose—entranced by how your lips move to mouth your words. You suppose that it still counts as a distraction.

Your fingers reach out to cup his chin, leveling him with a look of disbelief. “Lyney?”

His entire face is a tomato, and half-words are caught in the back of his throat. He gapes at you and looks as if he’s at war with himself.

You hold back a laugh. “I’m surprised you weren’t so critical to a newbie. Did I do that well?”

“That wasn’t fair, and you know it,” he replied weakly after a moment of finding his voice. He then hides his face behind his fingers. “Don’t go around doing that. You can’t try to captivate an audience already so enamored with you.”

“Ah…” Now you feel flustered. “Let’s—Let’s just go meet up with Lynette.” You can’t handle staying in this room for another minute.

[gffa]

Disney, hire me as your Attachment Advisor, I will shove so many George Lucas quotes at your producers and writers, I will shove so many context-laden clips from the movies and TCW at your creatives, I will make powerpoint essays about how it's more Buddhist-aligned, not Attachment Theory-aligned, I will cite literally every time attachment has ever been discussed by Lucas AND in the show itself and show you that it's always aligned with fear, possessive feelings, and selfishness, I will do this work for you for free, I can even literally just point you to my Jedi Citations collection, DISNEY, HIRE ME AS YOUR ATTACHMENT ADVISOR, I CAN HELP YOU.

Everything I saw in the show aligned perfectly with my view of what the Jedi mean by attachment from the movies (especially with Episode II). You fail to understand that George Lucas words outside of the movies mean shit. You cane have the largest collection of words that has come out of Lucas's ass and it still does not change the movies. Look at the poster for AOTC. A Jedi shall not know love. Obi-Wan speaks beautifully about the undercurrent of remorse he feels for not being able to have an attachment with Satine because he lives by the Jedi Code which forbids it.

You people are so delusional.

Hi! You are so right bestie it has been way too long since I've talked about my love for Mace Windu! You are so right to have brought this up and I will meet your challenge! He is the Force's strongest soldier because the absolute nonsense he has to put up with every day, as someone who deals with the rest of the Council being hilarious assholes, who deals with Kenobi and Skywalker's nonsense, who has Yoda as a friend, and yet he seems to genuinely like all of these people?? Even when they're bonkers?? My man is stronger than I could ever be.

Not to mention, he goes on a whole ass mission with Jar-Jar, has to watch him make out with his girlfriend, the queen of the planet who told falsehoods about your family, and you have nothing but patience and kind words to say about them, and you only roll your eyes a little at Jar-Jar's antics, something even Padme does and she's worked with him even longer than you have, and by the end, you're friends with him, you like him and would probably hang out with him again if the chance arose???? Mace Windu is on ANOTHER LEVEL from what I would have done in his position!

And he's a former theater nerd! "The Council's gain was the theater's loss." Jocasta Nu says about how he didn't have time for it anymore after he got so busy with the Council, like can you IMAGINE Mace Windu doing plays? I want to know sooooooo bad how Jedi plays are different from non-Force-sensitive people's plays, I want to know what kind of cool effects they create with the Force, I want to know if they use their psychic empath abilities to literally connect with their audience! I want to know DOES MACE WINDU HELP THE YOUNGLINGS STAGE CUTE LITTLE PLAYS IN THE CRECHE? BECAUSE I BET HE DOES.

Because that man is so good with kids! Remember that Star Wars Adventures comic where he was so gentle and sweet with the little Twi'lek girl? Reaching down to help her up, smiling openly at her, walking with her back to her village to make sure she was safe, talking with her to make sure she understood how important and valuable she was in the galaxy? Because I'm still not over that!

His relationship with Anakin in canon is pretty great, too, like, yeah, Anakin should take a seat and stop borderline pitching a fit about getting a rank he didn't earn, and Mace still offered to believe him, despite that Anakin had accepted Palpatine's forcing the Council to put him on it. He still trusted Anakin to help him in that fight against Palpatine! Plus, oh, man, their banter on the Endurance when they're teaching the cadets? That was such good-natured teasing, that was exactly the kind of banter Anakin would have had with Obi-Wan, and by the end of that whole fiasco (do you ever think about when Anakin was in danger and Mace yelled, "Anakin!" and desperately yanked him to safety, because he was worried about him? because I think about that a lot), Mace complimented Artoo by saying he saw what Anakin saw in him, that he was complimenting Anakin at the same time? Or pretty much EVERY interaction between Mace and Yoda is absolute hilarity, the side-eye they give each other, the teasing Yoda does when Mace is on a mission with Jar-Jar, the way Mace holds his hand out in the comics for Yoda to springboard off of into the middle of a fight? ICONIC FRIENDSHIP, I WOULD TAKE A WHOLE NOVEL ABOUT IT, DISNEY.

Or that time even AT THE END OF THE CLONE WARS, like they are just a MONTH out from Revenge of the Sith, if that, and Mace is STILL trying to get the droids to stand down, that he's destroyed thousands of them, none of them have listened, but he's still trying, offering them a better life away from the war, a purpose again, even if he knows it probably won't work, that man still believed in compassion for anyone and everyone. Like, baby Boba Fett TRIED TO KILL HIM and Mace STILL argued for leniency and rehabilitation, rather than jail, because he saw a young child who was hurting and he wanted better for him. He was direct with Boba, he didn't try to befriend him, Boba would never have accepted that, but he told him, you're going to have to get over your hatred for me, he says this for Boba's sake, not his own, because he knows what poison the desire for revenge is, look at the path it's already leading Boba down.

Or EVERYTHING WITH THE ZILLO BEAST, he tried so hard to rescue that poor creature, he fought the Senate so hard, he was so gentle with the hand he carefully pressed to its face, even when the Zillo beast was dangerous, even when it had attacked them and could so easily kill more, he wanted leniency for it, he wanted to save it because he understood where it was coming from.

Or EVERYTHING WITH PROSSET DIBS, that guy tried to murder him, was ranting about how he would dance on their graves or whatever, and Mace looks at him and says, we need to help him, it's our duty to help him find the light again. And his big punishment is literally just library duty, because when Mace can decide the outcome, that guy always goes for helping people, always goes for the option that would bring them back to the light.

Even as a young Padawan, his greatest struggle was to temper his anger, which was sparked because PEOPLE WERE BEING HURT by the false prophet on Mathas, he was angry because he saw how many people were suffering and the people in charge just let it happen, his heart hangs heavy when he witnesses people in pain, because Mace Windu deeply, deeply cares about the people in the galaxy.

He cared about civilians, he cared about clones, he cared about his fellow Jedi, he didn't have to be bouncy or super smiley to show that, either. It was in every action he took. He cared so much.

And, okay, yeah, he was COOL AS HELL AND WOULD HAVE BEATEN PALPATINE'S WRINKLED ASS IN A FAIR FIGHT.

OR THAT TIME ON RYLOTH THAT WAS LITTERALLY THE COOLEST SCENE THEY EVER ANIMATED, THE SOUND DROP? THE ABSOLUTE BANGER PHYSICAL STUNTS MACE WAS CAPABLE OF? GODDAMN HE WAS SO GOOD.

AND LEST WE FORGET--CUTEST BB YOUNGLING EVER!!!!

[ellswritings]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Derek Hale x Reader

TW: Mentions of blood and death, werewolfy things, Stiles being an absolute spaz, age gap, Jennifer Blake (cause she’s a warning on her own), major feels, and a tiny bit of angst, some bad words. I think that it y’all. Once again, let me know if I missed something!

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

There have always been two constants in Y/N L/N life when it came to living in Beacon Hills, life threatening creatures and the possibility of her imminent death. When she became friends with Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall in Kindergarten, she wasn’t completely aware of what she signed up for. Most people would think the constant Star Wars marathons with Stiles and lacrosse training with Scott would’ve drove her away early on, but she stayed. Not that they’d let her leave even if she tried. Having them as her best friends has always been a blessing and a curse. She would do anything for them, but she didn’t know anything included becoming a supernatural creature.

A werewolf to be precise.

The night of the dance their sophomore year, Y/N had seen Lydia walk out of the dance in which she assumed was in search of Jackson. But when she saw the blonde boy lingering in the hallways, she had a feeling something was off. When she went in search of the girl and found her at the lacrosse field, there was no escaping their inevitable fate. That was one of the many times Y/N thought she’d meet her end. Watching Peter Hale run towards them at fully speed before taking a nice bite out of their skin was not on her bucket list for the evening.

Since then there have been plenty adventures for the “McCall Pack” as she’d like to call it. Allison’s grandfather Gerard coming to town, the Kanima, Derek and his pack trying to kill Lydia, then finding out it was Jackson, only to have him turn into a werewolf and run off to London. There might have been a couple kidnappings and restraining order somewhere in there, but those are minor details.

And, of course, with a new year comes new threats. There has been a recent string of kidnappings that turned into murders that none of them have been able to solve yet. They’ve tried as a group to brainstorm, meeting at Derek’s new loft every so often to get the entire groups opinion, but nothing has come out of it. Well, besides spending extra time with the Alpha. That’s an aspect Y/N didn’t mind in the slightest.

She had no issues making herself at home in his loft, despite his halfhearted protests. No one could understand how Y/N had the ability to just throw her feet up on his coffee table and not get her throat ripped out. It’s either she has no regard for her life, or Derek has a soft spot for her which is something no one saw coming.

The two have always had an interesting relationship. Y/N enjoys arguing, similar to Stiles hence why they get along so well. She loves getting under Derek’s skin and pushing every button she knows he has. It’s almost as if she goes out of her way to try and get a reaction out of him. No one blames her really, it gets entertaining hearing them go at it. Especially for Stiles.

Whenever anyone needs to ask Derek for a favor, the first person they send his way is Y/N. For one, they’ve only ever heard the word “yes” come out of his mouth when talking to her, and she’s the most likely one not to flinch if she has to kill him. She has a conscious, it’s just not always active.

Y/N rides up to Beacon Hills High on her motorcycle before parking in the thin spot near the bike rack. She carefully takes off her helmet, smoothing down any stray pieces of hair that might’ve fallen out of place. She had been told to go to Derek’s the night before to ask him if he’s found anything out about their new lethal friend, the only issue is when she got there, she could hear her new teacher Jennifer Blake in the apartment with him. She felt the urge to completely kick the door down and interrupt whatever conversation was happening, but she practiced a high level of self-restraint. She knew Derek was aware of her being there. He could smell her the same way she could him. But the hot white rage that filled Y/N’s chest forced her to walk away and ride angrily back to Stiles’s place.

Scott and Stiles watch their friend from the steps at the entrance to the school. Her ever present frown is a little troubling as it is much more prominent than usual. They didn’t get the full details about what angered her so much the night before, but it’s clearly still bothering her. She takes the keys out of her bike before stomping up to them. When she notices them staring at her, she lifts an eyebrow, “Something you wanna say?” She challenges. Both boys look at each other and simultaneously shoot her a fake smile.

“You– you look nice today,” Stiles comments awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Did you uh– did you do something new with your hair?”

Y/N stared at him blankly while Scott mentally facepalms at his friends attempt at covering up their concern. She simply shakes her head, looping her arms through both of theirs. “I’m fine if that’s what you guys are wondering. Derek was busy last night so I just came back to the house. That’s it,” she explains shortly, leaving no room for questions.

Scott scrunches his nose and a look of realization dawns on his face. It quickly morphs into disgust the more he thinks about it and Stiles furrows his eyebrows curiously. He looks over Y/N’s head and waits for his other best friend to clue him in on what’s got him all bothered. Scott makes sure Y/N’s more focused on weaving through the crowd before mouthing “She’s jealous” over to Stiles.

“I’m gonna grab my notebook real quick,” she tells them. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she reaches her locker, Stiles leans over to attempt a discreet conversation with Scott. “What do you mean she’s jealous?” He asks in a whisper. “Jealous of what?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answers, watching Y/N carefully. “But I’m assuming it had something to do with what happened at Derek’s last night.”

“Why would she be jealous over something with Derek?” Stiles scoffs, his eyebrows furrowed.

Scott shoots him a pointed look. Stiles is an absolute genius when it comes to certain topics, but girls and social cues are not one of them. His jaw drops slightly when he realizes what Scott’s implying. He rapidly shakes his head, flailing his arms in the air. “No– no, uh-uh. There’s no way. Absolutely not.”

“It’s not like you can stop it,” Scott chuckles. “If she likes him, she likes him.”

“Oh God,” Stiles groans disgustedly. “Out of all people? Sourwolf? Really?”

Scott shrugs with an amused smile as Y/N turns to start walking back, “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Okay, but does it have to want him?” Stiles continues to complain. “And if she’s jealous that means there was someone else there last night. Who? Because last I checked, Derek is a very acquired taste.”

“How would I know?” Scott replies. “Now shut up before she realizes we’re talking about her.”

The three of them made a pact awhile back that they wouldn’t eavesdrop on each other’s private conversations unless they were in danger. So they knew it would be safe to have said discussion despite Y/N’s enhanced hearing.

“You guys ready?” She asks.

Both nod vigorously, trying to hide their gossip, but their desperation to seem normal gives them away. Y/N simply rolls her eyes and says nothing. She once again links their arms together as they head towards their English class. No one needs werewolf senses to see how tense and angry Y/N got at the sight of Ms. Blake. The fury behind her eyes is one everyone in the pack has had to face at one point or another. Scott vividly remembers those eyes when Issac stole the last piece of her banana bread from when they went to the bakery they all love, and she threw him clear across his house.

Y/N separates herself from the boys, taking her spot next to Alison and Lydia while the boys sit down behind them. It’s a miracle how they all ended up in the same class. Y/N opens up her notebook, choosing to doodle rather than pay attention to whatever Ms. Blake is writing on the whit board in front of them. Alison looks at Y/N’s drawing with curiosity and smiles, “That’s really good,” she compliments.

It’s her beginning sketch to one of her favorite book characters, Sirius Black from Harry Potter. Y/N tries to muster a genuine grin, “Thanks,” she replies.

Alison isn’t clueless though. She can feel the difference in Y/N’s attitude from how she acts on a regular basis. She squints her eyes trying to silently figure it out before turning back to Scott who already knows what she’s wondering. What all of them were wondering. Who got Y/N so riled up? They know she’s jealous of something that happened with Derek, but who could she be jealous of?

“Alright, good morning everyone!” Jennifer greets with a smile that makes Y/N’s blood boil. She brings a hand up to play with her helix piercing to prevent her claws which will no doubt make an appearance by the end of this class. “Today, we're going to delve deeper into Shakespeare's Othello. I want you to focus on the themes of jealousy and manipulation that are littered throughout the text.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow on her teacher. The word “jealousy” feeling like a direct hit on their current situation. She cracks her neck before flipping to the page in their text book. She slouches in her chair, leg bouncing up and down. She quickly begins to run out of patience hearing the teachers heels click every time she takes a step.

“Y/N,” Jennifer calls out. “Why don’t you go ahead and start us off by reading the first paragraph?”

The grip Y/N has on her pencil tightens. There it is. Scott can not only smell it, but he can see it with his own eyes. The tension is more than palpable. Jennifer was the one at Derek’s last night. Y/N tilts her head, “Why can’t someone else do it?” She deflects coldly. “Lydia for example is quite the fan of our troubled poet.”

The challenge in her voice makes Jennifer hold back her own glare. She should’ve known Y/N would be the student to give her trouble from the beginning. The class shifts uncomfortably from the sudden chill in the air. “Y/N, it’s important for everyone to participate. Please, read the passage,” she requests with forced patience.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” the (h/c) haired girl answers, folding her hands together as she leans on the desk. “I have crippling anxiety when it comes to reading in front of people. You wouldn’t want to do something to cause a breakdown would you?” She asks in the most taunting voice possible.

Lydia and Alison both stare at their friend with confusion. Stiles has to sink low in his chair to hide the inevitable laughter that’s about to come out of his mouth. While Scott just covers his face with his hands, waiting for World War Y/N to take place in his English class.

Jennifer quirks an eyebrow, “Did you not just do the school play of Beauty and the Beast last month? Where you played Belle? The lead role?”

Silence.

“That’s different, Ms. Blake,” Y/N corrects. “Not that I’d expect you to understand, but playing a character and who I am in real life is completely separate.”

“Well, that’s perfect then,” she nods. “Why don’t you go ahead and read it in character for us?”

A strong scent of copper fills Scott’s nose. He glances down and sees Y/N’s claws dug deep into her thigh. Stiles notices Scott’s wide eyes and glances where he’s looking. When he sees the wide open wound his face turns pale white before he shuffles in his chair.

“What a fantastic idea,” Y/N quips sarcastically before glancing down at the page below her. As she begins to read, the passive aggressiveness in her tone is evident. “O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."

Her eyes lock with Jennifer's, and she can't help but add, under her breath but loud enough for her friends to pick up on, "How fitting"

Jennifer's expression hardens, but she maintains her composure. She leans on her desk while looking Y/N in the eye, “I would like a word with you after class Miss L/N,” she says coolly before continuing on with her lesson.

The glare on Y/N’s face never fades. She burns holes into the back of Jennifer’s head. Scott grew increasingly more worried that her eyes would flash, giving away her secret for all to see. All four of her friends exchange worried glances. Y/N’s never really been one to get in trouble on her own accord. She’s gotten detention, but ninety percent of the times it’s because Scott and Stiles roped her into it. The boys take it upon themselves to text Lydia and Alison, informing them of their theory of what is causing Y/N’s sudden aggression.

Lydia purses her lips together as she reads the texts. She leans back to whisper to Stiles, “This should be interesting…”

The rest of the class drags on, time ticking fairly slow. Y/N doesn’t say much, but the nasty looks she shoots cut more deeply than any words ever could. Halfway through the period, Stiles places his hand on her back to help keep her calm, which she wouldn’t admit, helped a lot. When the bell finally rings, the students begin to file out. Y/N stays behind, her anger barely contained. Scott, Stiles, Alison, and Lydia linger outside the door, trying to listen in on the upcoming confrontation.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she slings her bag over her shoulder. She approaches Jennifer’s desk with a sickly sweet smile. The teacher doesn’t buy it though. “Y/N, what is going on with you today?” She questions firmly, feigning concern for the younger girl.

Y/N shakes her head, producing the most innocent face she could. “Going on with me? Nothing at all, Miss Blake. I am doing just dandy. Why do you ask?"

Jennifer bites the inside of her cheek, narrowing her eyes, but she manages to keep her tone measured. "Your behavior today has been disruptive and disrespectful. You are a talented and well-read young woman. I expected more from you."

Y/N chuckles, leaning more of her weight on her left side, popping her hip to show just how much she truly cares about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do, given your high standards and all. It must be exhausting to keep up appearances,” she comments with a deceptive charm.

The older woman’s nostrils flare, knowing exactly what she’s trying to get at. Of course this is what her behavior is all about. Jennifer takes a deep breath, “Y/N, your comments today were out of line. This isn’t about keeping up appearances, it’s about maintaining respect in the classroom."

Y/N walks closer to her desk with a sly smile. She traces her finger up the wood, rubbing the dust in between her fingers. “Respect? Funny you should mention that. It seems respect is a bit... selective around here."

Jennifer's patience finally snaps, though she tries to mask it with a strained smile. “Y/N, your insinuations are inappropriate. Whatever issues you think exist, this isn't the place to air them."

Y/N barely even makes eye contact with the woman, flicking off the small dust bunny she formed with her fingers. “Of course,” she agrees mildly. “From now on, I’ll make sure to be more… discreet.”

Her teacher’s eyes flash with irritation, “You know what? Your behavior today has been unacceptable. Detention. After school. I expect to see you here as soon as the bell rings.”

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look in Jennifer's eyes stops her. She storms out of the classroom, her friends quickly falling into step beside her. Stiles trips over his own footing as he tries to grab Y/N’s wrist, “Would you just– Jesus– Y/N. Slow down!” He exclaims, finally catching her. He grabs onto her, holding the girl in place.

Y/N raises her eyebrows, “What?” She bites out. “I have to get to Calc.”

“Care to explain what the hell is going on with you?” Lydia tries to coax the information out of her. She knows it’s never good for Y/N out of all people to keep things bottled.

“Nothing’s going on with me,” she denies. “I’m fine. Are we done here?” She scoffs, spinning on her heel to walk away.

Scott runs in front of her, “Y/N, we just want to help,” he insists softly.

“I don’t need your help!” She snaps. The wounded expression on his puppy dog face makes Y/N groan at her actions. She runs a hand over her face, “Look Scotty, I appreciate it. I appreciate all of you, really, I do. It means a lot that you care so much, but this isn’t something that I feel like talking about right now. I need space and time to plot out her murder and then maybe we can have a discussion later, okay?” She says nonchalantly, kissing Scott’s cheek before walking off to her calculus class.

They all stand there stunned for a moment. Stiles watches after her, pointing at the girl and turning back to his friends, “Did she– did she just say plot her murder?”

“Yup,” Alison nods, popping the “p.”

As the school day goes on, Scott and Stiles continuously try to monitor Y/N and her behavior. Something about her unhinged jealousy is putting everyone on edge. Luckily, the advanced classes they don’t have with her, Lydia does. So whenever they can’t be together, they assign someone else to watch over her.

When Lydia reports back, they’re all slightly shocked to hear that she was absolutely fine in all of her other classes. Which only affirms their theory that Ms. Blake was in Derek’s apartment last night, and that’s why Y/N acted the way that she did.

When the final bell of the day rings, Y/N growls under her breath, knowing she has to spend the next hour or so with Jennifer Blake in an enclosed space. She marches down the hallway, mumbling profanities under her breath before pushing the door to her classroom open. Stiles and Scott watch from afar, the latter trying to listen in for any painful screams. But knowing Y/N, if she truly were to murder someone, it wouldn’t be loud or obvious.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows when she sees Jennifer packing up her desk. When the woman hears her door open, she glances over in her students direction. “Miss L/N, I hope you had a good and reflective rest of your day,” she comments, clearly not interested in Y/N’s day whatsoever.

Y/N doesn’t bother responding. She simply stares at her straight faced with her arms crossed. Her patience is dwindling the longer they stand there. Jennifer picks up her handbag before sending Y/N the nastiest smile she could.

“Well, Mr. Harris should be here in a couple of minutes to oversee your detention, so you can wait in your seat until he arrives.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow, “And why exactly am I waiting for Mr. Harris? Weren’t you the one to give me a detention?”

Her teacher smirks, “Yes, yes I was,” she answers with a shrug.

“Then wouldn’t it be your responsibility to oversee it? You can’t just hand out detentions and not stick around for it,” Y/N scoffs.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be leaving like this. I would happily spend the next hour of my life lecturing you on proper classroom etiquette, but I have certain plans tonight that I’ve been looking forward to. So Mr. Harris has agreed to take you off my hands,” she explains.

Y/N can smell her smugness. Only if she demonstrated this side of herself in front of the class. Y/N clenches her hand tightly, feeling her claws emerging from her actual nails. Anger rushes through her, but she pushes it back with a curt nod. “How interesting. Do you mind me asking who these plans happen to be with?”

Jennifer cockily leans forward, whispering in Y/N’s ear, “You know exactly who they’re with.” Then she pulls away from the young girl, walking out of the classroom without a second glance.

The werewolf’s eyes flash a bright yellow as she watches Jennifer stalk off. She squeezes them shut, trying to avoid any kind of outburst. Her frustration grows by the second, her heart beating abnormally fast as she hears Jennifer getting in her car to no doubt drive to Derek’s loft. A red hot fire fills her soul as she makes a decision that will no doubt have consequences later. But she would rather serve a two hour detention with Harris than watch Derek be with that woman.

Y/N storms out of the classroom, running down the hallway. She ditches her detention, figuring she could come up with an emotional enough lie to relieve the punishment afterwards. Her backpack bounces up and down, smacking into her tailbone as she runs. Her feet pump as fast as they possibly can as she runs through the greenery of the woods. She doesn’t have to pay attention to where she is because her body already knows where it’s going. Almost as if she’s called to be there, her inner wolf begging to move faster.

When she finally slows down, she’s directly in front of the door to Derek’s loft. Her chest rises and falls with her shallow breaths as she simply stares at the door. She didn’t see or hear Jennifer’s car, so that means their’s still time. She licks her lips out of nervousness before hesitantly bringing her hand up to the door, knocking on it softly.

She waits anxiously, wiping her now sweaty hands on her jeans. Y/N’s not used to feeling like this ever. She doesn’t get nervous. Most of the time, she’s the most confident person anyone could meet. Hence why she was friends with Lydia before she even knew Stiles existed. When she goes over to Derek’s, she never usually feels like this. Like her heart might just beat out of her chest if she doesn’t see him. She fights off the small whimper threatening to escape her throat. She doesn’t need to be nervous and embarrassed when he answers the door.

Y/N rocks back and forth on her feet, growing more weary as time passes. Silence fills the air around her and she suddenly feels the urge to throw up when she hears footsteps growing closer. She silently prays he can’t smell how absolutely out of sorts she is. Her inner monologue to give herself a confidence boost doesn’t do much when she sees his shadow at the bottom crack of the door. When the door swings open, it reveals a very dressed up Derek Hale. His face turns into one of confusion when he sees her standing in front of him.

“Y/N,” he greets, completely shocked by her presence. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh– I– um,” she stumbles over her words which causes Derek to look at her with curiosity. She’s not the type to be at a loss for something to say. That’s one of the things he admires about her. She sucks in a deep breath, “I just needed to see you,” she answers.

Derek steps aside slightly, allowing her into his apartment. When she walks in she can’t help but feel safe. This loft has almost turned into her home away from home. She’s here more often than anyone else out of the pack, and Issac lives here. It isn’t until now that Derek can smell the mix of emotions radiating off of her. It’s a concoction of things and he can’t tell which is the primary source of her unannounced appearance.

“What’s this about?” He asks her with a lifted brow.

Y/N sighs, trying to blink back the intermittent flashing of her eyes. “I know someone was here last night,” she reveals. “I came by and heard her. Then I find out today that you two apparently have plans,” she continues getting progressively more irritated. “Which didn’t make sense to me because I thought you were smarter than that.”

Derek crosses his arms, his own anger rising at her tone. He’s used to her empty sarcasm and insults, but this time it’s fueled by actual emotion which sets him equally on edge. “It’s none of your business who I have plans with, Y/N,” he says shortly.

Y/N laughs humorlessly, “None of my business? It is absolutely my business if the person you have these plans with is a complete stranger!” She exclaims loudly. “We don’t know her Derek. She could be the person behind all these killings and kidnappings and we wouldn’t be any the wiser!”

“Your teacher?” He challenges. “Responsible for everything that’s going on?” He chuckles at the obscurity. “Right. I’m sure that’s it,” he shakes his head at the accusation. “Isn’t the whole point of making plans to get to know someone? So wouldn’t it be nice if I did go out with her?”

“She’s manipulating you,” Y/N insists. “And you’re obviously too blind to even see it.”

“Why do you care so much?” Derek asks, his voice elevating as well.

“Because–” She waves her hands around exasperatedly, trying to find the words. “You’re not exactly known for your taste in women!” She all but scolds. “Remember Kate? The lady that up and killed your entire family. Well, I remember her so forgive me for trying to keep your stupid werewolf ass alive!”

Derek goes to retaliate but that’s when he hears it. Her heart rate speeds up. She’s lying to him. That’s not why she really cares. He can clearly see her anger and smell the annoyance radiating off of her, along with a couple of other things. But there’s a sweet smell accompanying it. One that Derek finds rather endearing. Jealousy. Y/N L/N is jealous. He wouldn’t have picked up on it if she hadn’t just blatantly lied. Suddenly her bursting in and berating him makes sense. He smirks when he notices her clenched fists. It’s about time she’s felt the green-eyed monster that constantly visits him when he sees her with other guys. When she’s laughing boisterously about something Scott said, whenever she comes over to see him but ends up talking to Isaac for hours on end. Especially when he found out she kissed Stiles last year after he was kidnapped by Gerard. It truly has been a miracle that no one ever sensed his jealousy when it came to her.

Derek takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Why did you really come here, Y/N?” He asks lowly, trying to get her to admit her feelings. “Tell me what you’re really trying to say…”

Y/N feels her face flush as he gets closer. She doesn’t want him to know the real reason why she raced across town to be here. The walls begin to close in around her, so she lashes out in a last ditch effort to protect herself.

“I’m trying to look out for you! You’re stubborn, Derek,” she chastises. “You don’t listen to anything anyone tells you. You like to pretend you’re always ready and prepared for anything, but you’re not! You are just as emotional and vulnerable as everyone else despite being hurt as many times as you have! You’re reckless when it comes to women, so I’m simply trying to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or the pack by making a stupid mistake.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t back down. In fact, he gets closer to her in attempts to pressure it out of her. “You’re avoiding my question, Y/N,” he says darkly. “What’s really going on?”

Feeling cornered, Y/N tries to take in a couple of deep breaths but it fails miserably. She can’t tell him. Not now. Not when he’s interested in another women who’s already on her way here. He even got dressed up for her. She’s never seen Derek in a white button up polo and slacks. It makes her frown thinking that it’s not for her. She scoffs softly before shaking her head, “Forget it,” she mumbles. The h/c haired girl pushes past him, shoulder checking him on her way to the door. “I shouldn’t have come here. Have fun on your date or whatever you wanna call it.”

She slams the door behind her before stomping down the flight of stairs that leads up to his building. When she walks outside, the sky opens up, almost mimicking her inner turmoil with its own storm. Rain pours down on her, soaking her clothing completely as she gets ready to run home, or in all truth, to Stiles house. All she knows is that she can’t be here anymore.

“Y/N, wait!” Derek calls out.

She doesn’t bother turning around, heading the exact way she came. She should’ve figured that he would’ve caught up to her with ease. He’s never had a problem showing her who’s in charge. He grabs her wrist gently but firmly, not allowing her to leave.

“Stop running away,” he commands. “Just tell me the truth.”

Y/N’s eyes once again begin flashing yellow, differing completely from her regular piercing e/c gaze. “Let go of me, Derek,” she demands with a bit of a growl in her voice.

“Not until you stop being so damn hardheaded!” He yells, trying to make his voice heard over the pounding rain. “Tell me!”

“Why do you even care?!” Y/N screams back. “Why does it matter when you’re already here waiting for another woman?”

Derek’s eyes soften slightly, and he pulls Y/N closer to him by her wrist. Her breath hitches in her throat as her hand practically rests on his muscular chest. His lips are so impossibly close that any coherent thought she had before this moment have been completely erased from her long and short term memory.

“Because I need to hear you say it,” his voice got impossibly low, sending a chill through her body that has nothing to do with the cold water hitting her back.

Y/N’s lips part slightly as his thumb comes up to brush the side of her cheek. Her body is drawn to him. The wolf inside of her is trying to claw its way out and into his arms, but she manages to steady herself. “Fine,” she breathes out, not being able to force herself to look away. “I’m jealous, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That it made me want to commit first-degree murder last night when I heard her voice in your apartment, knowing that it would’ve been me in there if I had shown up just a tad bit earlier? So yes, Derek, I am jealous. You win.”

Derek’s eyes darken at the breathiness of her voice. He places the hand that was holding her wrist on her waist to keep her pressed securely against his front. Both of their hearts beat in unison, “Why didn’t you just say that when I asked the first time?”

Y/N’s defense starts to crumble beneath her, “Because I didn’t want you to think I was weak for succumbing to something stupid like that,” she admits.

Derek laughs, showing off his pearly white teeth, “I would’ve never thought you were weak.” He reassures when he notices the small frown etched on her face. “You’ve never been weak. A bit obstinate? Sure. But not weak.”

Y/N can feel the sincerity in his voice. She doesn’t protest his strong hold on her hip, but instead keeps her own hands occupied on his now soaked through white shirt. It’s not a bad view from where she’s standing. “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow, a pang of concern filling his heart. “Do what?”

“Keep pretending that I don’t care about you,” she says softly, her chest heaving up and down from how intense the moment they are sharing is.

Derek’s eyes flash their bright alpha red as a primal instinct clouds his brain. He leans close to her face, his stubble rubbing her cheek in just the right way. “Then don’t,” he says huskily.

Before she can respond, he leans in and kisses her, the rain pouring down around them. The kiss is intense, filled with all the emotions they’ve both been keeping at bay. It’s a collision of desire and frustration, their lips moving against each other with a desperate want. A primal need inside both of them. Y/N wraps her hands around his neck, tugging at the short strands of his black hair. Derek wastes no time placing both of his hands on her waist, squeezing the soft flesh. She giggles slightly from the sensation, making him smile. When they finally pull apart, they’re both breathless.

Y/N steps back, her heart racing, but Derek keeps his arm around her, protectively. “How come you ran away?” He asks quietly.

Y/N huffs, running a hand through her wet hair. She sighs loudly before admitting the truth, “I was scared.”

“Of what?” He questions, not believing the woman in front of him would be scared of anything.

“Of this,” she states obviously, gesturing in between them. “Of how much I feel for you. I’m not really big on emotions like this. I don’t know how to handle it. So I was scared of having to open up my heart when I wasn’t sure if you’d actually take care of it.”

The vulnerability in her answer snaps something in Derek’s mind. She has the same issues as he does. He hasn’t been able to truly give himself to anyone since Paige. He felt so strongly for her and then she was gone in an instant. And when he tried again with someone he didn’t even fully trust, he got burned again. Emotions besides anger have never been his forte. So when he hears Y/N admitting the same thing, it makes him realize that this is something they both can improve on.

He grins, kissing her forehead softly, “You don’t have to be scared. We can figure it all out together, okay? Both of us.”

At that moment, a car pulls up, and Derek pulls Y/N even tighter into his chest. The bright headlights blind them and they both try to shield their eyes in order to identify the owner of the vehicle. Y/N’s body tenses as Jennifer steps out, the woman’s expression shifting from surprise to anger as she sees them.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she comments coldly. Her eyes zero in on Y/N who has a rather tight grip on Derek’s shirt, “Miss L/N, shouldn’t you be at school serving the detention you earned today for your behavior in my class?”

“I had better things to do,” Y/N bites back. “As you can see,” she says, pointing at Derek’s chiseled form.

A shit-eating grin forms on Derek’s lips at her words. They both swear they see Jennifer’s eye twitch from the insinuation Y/N just made. He doesn’t bother trying to cover up what just happened and keeps his hands firmly on Y/N’s hips.

“Yes, I can see that,” Jennifer narrows her eyes at their proximity.

Derek can feel the situation getting ready to escalate so he keeps Y/N safeguarded within his hold. He nods over to Jennifer’s car, “I think it would be best if you left,” he states unforgivingly making Y/N smile.

Jennifer sends them both a pointed look, “I think so too,” she agrees before spinning on her heel and walking back towards her car. “We’ll see just how well this works out for the two of you. Let’s hope you don’t regret it.”

She closes the drivers side door before speeding off out of the parking lot. Both Derek and Y/N are left standing in the rain, now knowing that things have just become a lot more complicated than they were before. But even in the midst of her subtle threat and imminent danger, the two of them don’t seem worried in the slightest.

Because they’ll handle that together too.

[feroluce]

HOW DID RAPPA AND BOOTHILL END UP BEING SO SWEET???

Before 2.6 even dropped, they were being cute! In Rappa's Keeping Up With Star Rail, Boothill describes Rappa's creations as "high-tech ninjutsu" rather than equipment, or machines, or anything else that someone would have normally defaulted to. This is something Rappa is very proud of and insistent about in her work, and he respects that!

Even with those party join lines, he refers to her not as a Galaxy Ranger, but by her chosen title!

Rappa seems to get a lot of shit for how she talks, too, with people throughout the patch accusing her of playing around or not taking anything seriously. Boothill though is swift to correct that, that even if it sounds like nonsense, Rappa is someone to be respected and a force to be reckoned with. He seems to really admire her resolve, and especially her intellect! He has nothing but praise for her, it's so so sweet.

And the way she talks about him, too! Like there are. A lot of things you can say about a man like Boothill fjkdlsajk but she always speaks so admirably of him?

There's also the difference in nicknames- Rappa refers to every other person as "Ninja." And most of them are descriptions that you can pick up at a glance, or without knowing a person too deeply. Singer for Robin is obvious, everyone knows who she is. Gama for Reca means "toad," which is a reference to the assistant director he always has with him. Baseball Bat for the trailblazer is also obvious. Ruri for March 7th means "lapis lazuli" which is probably a reference to her Six Phase Ice, or even her appearance since she looks like if a Stellar Jade became human. Hiryu for Dan Heng is actually "flying dragon" but it's also a famous video game reference so I'm only willing to put so much stock into that one fjkdsjakd and besides, she could have easily heard about March 7th and Dan Heng from Boothill, since he talks about the dango trio to Rappa, too.

But Boothill! Rappa refers to Boothill as "Silvergun Shura," with Shura being a reference to Asura, a demigod of war. It's a name used to describe someone fighting a relentless, inhumane war and desperately seeking victory. It also refers to a level of hell, governed by anger and pain. Both interpretations suit him strongly. It's not really a title you could give just looking at someone. It's something you'd have to know them at least a little more deeply for.

Boothill also very distinctly lacks the common ninja title- instead, in the EN translation, Rappa calls him Lord. It's a highly respectable title even in the original Chinese, apparently akin to addressing reigning royalty.

She just. Seems to respect and admire him so much? It's so so sweet?

And despite how often it's stated that Galaxy Rangers tend to work and travel alone, it seems these two are at least fairly familiar with each other, which makes me really happy! In an instance of beautiful timing, just today Hoyo released a new text convo, and! When she wants someone to hang out with, Boothill was one of the first people Rappa thought of!

Rappa knew Dan Heng because Boothill talked about him. She knew about Clockwork. Boothill has spoken with her often enough and long enough to know how deeply her hatred ran, and to be upset for her when Primon got away.

They both speak so positively of each other, even when one is out of of earshot. They openly show a ton of respect and admiration for one another, and the way they talk about each other is more than just two people who happen to be part of the same faction. They know each other more closely than that. Boothill is only in Penacony at all because of Rappa, and Rappa trusted Boothill enough to seek him out for this.

My favorite, though? The part I considered the cutest?

Rappa literally went all the way to the Luofu just to watch Boothill fight in the Luminary Wardance.

[azrielsdove]

Jealousy, Jealousy: Lucien x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+

***

He had no claim to you, no reason to be so jealous as he watched you with the Shadowsinger. The way you threw your head back in laughter, holding onto his arm. The way he looked at you, like you were the brightest star in the universe. Which, to be fair, you were. Lucien couldn’t deny it.

He wanted you. He’d been obsessing over you for a century now, since the first time you visited the Spring Court. Rhysand had sent you, his emissary, to meet with Lucien. He took one look at you and knew it was over for him.

And now he was mated to someone else. Told by the cauldron that Elain was the one made for him, the one he was made for. Lucien felt that had to be wrong. How could it be true, when he still only had eyes for you? He tried with Elain, he was kind, cordial. It didn’t help that she wanted nothing to do with him.

He watched as Azriel pulled you onto his lap, his fingers trailing up and down your thigh. He watched as you whispered something in his ear, ending it with a kiss to his skin. His hand tightened on his glass, the whiskey burning wonderfully as he sipped it. He felt the fire under his skin, knowing he was ready to burst into flames. It should be his lap you were sitting on, his fingers running up your exposed leg.

Lucien was aware that he was staring, that it was obvious to anyone who looked at him what was wrong. He was past the point of caring. He had wanted you for so long, so long, and was now forced to watch you choose another.

Of course, he had his chance with you many moons ago. Before Amarantha, before the war, before Elain. Her name ran around his head like a curse. He took another drink, becoming lost in his memories.

“Lucien!” You gasped, splashing the water back at him. On your latest visit to the Spring Court he had decided to take you to the pool of starlight. He knew you would appreciate its beauty, especially being from the Night Court. Your eyes had lit up in a most delightful way, Lucien’s heart beating fast at the sight. You wasted no time stripping down to your underclothes, dipping into the stars.

Lucien followed quickly after, pulling his shirt and trousers off. He laughed as you watched the liquid drip through your fingers, a joy he’d never seen shining on your face. If he wasn’t in love with you before, he certainly was now.

He swam up behind you, splashing the water onto you. He melted at your laughter when you turned, splashing back at him. He couldn’t help himself, swimming closer to you. His arms hesitantly wrapped around your waist, his fingers tingling at the feel of you under them.

“Is this okay?” He whispered, nose brushing your cheek. You sucked in a sharp breath, a quiet “Yes,” coming in response. His hands had cautiously traveled up and down your skin, pulling you ever closer. Your hands had trailed down his chest, memorizing the feel of him.

Lucien couldn’t stop himself when he pressed a kiss to your neck, arms tensing at your answering moan. He had waited so long for this, so long to touch you. He pulled back enough to look into your eyes, wanting to see you. You looked back with flushed cheeks, mouth slightly parted. “Lu,” you said, gaze flicking down to his lips, “Are you going to kiss me?”

He was. He cupped the back of your neck, angling your head up to his. He leaned down, lips millimeters from yours when a sharp laugh pulled the two of you out of the moment. Lucien looked towards the sound, ready to murder whoever it was.

Tamlin.

“Is this what you do, emissary’s? Use your positions to whore about?” You pulled away from Lucien as though he had burned you, your face pale. He was going to kill Tam, and the look he shot him conveyed that. Lucien swam to the edge, pulling himself out of the pool to stand in front of his High Lord.

“What bother is it to you, Tamlin?” He asked, voice cold. He watched as his friend rolled his eyes, looking back over to you.

“How can you trust that she’s not just using you to find private information? You know how the Night Court is, she’s probably Rhysands own fuck piece sent here to seduce you.” Tamlins words struck Lucien exactly how he intended, anger coursing through him.

“We haven’t spoken about you or this Court. Not everything revolves around you.” Lucien shot back, fists clenching.

Tamlin laughed. “It does when your job is to report about my court to her. I want her gone, and I don’t want her coming back.” He turned to address you. “Tell your High Lord to send someone else next time.”

Then he was gone.

Lucien spun back to face you, apology all over his face. You were already out of the pool, hastily pulling your clothes on. “I should go.” you said, refusing to look at him. Lucien called your name, but you had already winnowed away. He was left standing there by the edge of the pool, feeling the way you slipped through his fingers.

The memory burned in his mind, fresh anger coming to the surface. His gaze flitted back to you and the Shadowsinger, feeling painfully hot as you leaned down to kiss him. He watched his hand thread up into your hair, the other grip onto your thigh. He heard the breathy moans you were giving him, so similar to that day in the pool of starlight.

Lucien couldn’t take this anymore. He stood abruptly, not caring to speak to anyone. He turned and left the room, heading to the kitchen to find something stronger to drink.

***

READER POV

You reached your tipping point when you watched Elain spend another holiday ignoring her mate. You had wanted Lucien since the first time you met him, knowing he was the most handsome male you would ever see. Unfortunately you were there to do a job, not jump his bones.

You enjoyed the way the two of you created a friendship overtime, toeing the line between friends and more. That day in the starlight pool you thought all your dreams were coming true, you finally were going to taste him.

Until Tamlin had ruined everything.

You left before Lucien could say anything, mortified beyond belief. Rhys started sending Azriel after that, since you were basically banned from the Spring Court. Lucien came to the Hewn City from time to time, and you always made sure to be there. Not that the two of you ever got a chance to talk, but it was nice to just see he was okay.

You remembered the pain in your heart at seeing the fresh scar on his face when he came to warn Rhys about Amarantha. You could still feel the anger the coursed through you, the rage that made you want to go Under the Mountain and kill her yourself.

It was shortly after that Rhysand was trapped down there with her. The 49 years after were some of the worst you and your friends had ever experienced. You knew you were lucky, stuck protecting Velaris. Though it didn’t dull the ache in your heart, the worry for Rhys and Lucien. You knew Amarantha wanted Tamlin, and that he had declined her. You had already seen what she did to Lucien once, not wanting to know what else she was willing to do.

You wanted to ask Rhys about him when he came back, but it wasn’t the right time. It never was. You kept your concerns for the Autumn Court son hidden, too much going on to voice them. When you found out he and Tamlin had cursed Feyre and her sisters, you felt like you were being split in two.

No, you had thought, locked away in your room. Lucien would never do that. You were crushed when Rhys showed you his memories of the night, showed you Lucien standing next to Tamlin. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces when he fell to his knees, gasping that Elain was his mate. You cried yourself to sleep that night, and many nights after.

Now it had been some years since those events, and Elain still acted like Lucien was dirt on the ground. You could tell she desired Azriel, your closest friend. This hatched your plan for the coming Solstice.

You had approached Azriel some days before the party, giving him your idea. You were thrilled when he instantly agreed, eyes flickering with the same wicked excitement as yours. If Lucien and Elain wouldn’t admit their feelings for the two of you, you would simply make them so jealous they had to.

That’s what lead you here, sliding yourself on Azriels lap. You loved your friend, but you had never seen him in this way. That’s what made this plan so good, so perfect. You knew you could fuck Azriel and still be in love with Lucien. Not that this would go that far, you didn’t think.

You allowed Azriels fingers to trail up and down your thigh, not hiding the warmth inside you at his touch. You leaned down to whisper in his ear; “Do you see the way he’s looking at us?”, kissing the spot when you were done. Azriel smiled up to you, knowing Elain was looking much the same.

You began to kiss up and down his neck, his hand gripping the top of your thigh. You couldn’t deny that his little groans filled you with heat, but you so desperately wished they were Lucien’s. You made your way up to his lips, allowing his hand to come up into your hair and deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help the initial moan that escaped as his tongue skillfully massaged yours, it having been so long since you were touched like this. Azriel raked his nails across your thigh, a silent Do that again. You allowed more moans to fall from you, realizing it must be driving Lucien insane.

You stopped when you heard the unmistakable sound of someone storming out of the room. You pulled from Azriel, pleased when you saw Lucien was missing. “Mission success, it seems.” You murmured to him, glancing over to an extremely uncomfortable Elain. “You better go help your girl.” You teased, sliding off his lap. He caught your hand, pressing a ‘thank you’ to your knuckles. You smiled, turning to chase after an undoubtedly heated Lucien.

***

You found him in the kitchen, shooting back whatever hard liquor he had found. “Something wrong, Lucien?”, you asked coyly. He whipped around to look at you, shock on his face. You moved closer to him, gaze heavy. “Jealous, perhaps?”, you said, placing a hand on his chest. You could feel his rapid heartbeat under your fingers.

“What are you doing?” He asked gruffly, setting the shot glass down behind him. “You know I can’t be with you, Elain-“.

You cut him off. “Enough with her. Has she even looked at you in the last year?” You couldn’t help the upset tone of your voice. “You need someone who wants you.” You dropped your hand to his belt, pulling his hips flush to yours. “Someone who has always wanted you.”

You watch the internal battle he is having, ever too good of a man. You know he doesn’t want to betray Elain, but is it truly betraying her if she acts like he doesn’t exist? You had waited for him for so many years, cared for him. You would give him a happy life, a life full of love and light. What does Elain have to offer?

Your other hand comes up to trace his arms, traveling up to his neck. You stand on your toes, pressing a barely there kiss to his skin. “Lu,” you cooed, kissing his neck again. “You are too beautiful to be lonely any longer.” You bit down at the end of the words, tongue soothing the mark.

That caused him to lose the war in his mind.

He grabbed your waist, spinning you around to set you on the counter behind him. He knocked your knees apart, stepping between your legs as his hands dropped to pull you tight against him. The heat in your belly tightened when you felt his hard length against you.

“I have waited too long to do this.” He muttered before finally pressing his lips to yours. You opened your mouth to him immediately, years of desire pouring out of you. He brought a hand up to cup your face, taking his time as he kissed you. You tangled one hand in those perfect red strands, wrapping them around your fingers. This felt right, you felt whole.

Lucien increased the heat of the kiss, the hand on your thigh rubbing circles on the skin. You needed him, needed him like you needed air to live. You ground your hips against his, relishing in the soft groan he released. “Do that again,” he spoke against your lips, “and I will fuck you right here, where anyone can see.”

You moaned at his words, not wasting a second as you pushed your hips against him again. The hand on your face moved to your throat, pressing hard enough to cut off oxygen. Lightning shot through you at the heat of it all, at the dominant look in his eyes. “You asked for it.” He growled, the hand on your thigh sliding under your skirt and tracing you over the delicate underwear you had one. You arched into his touch, a soft moan falling from you.

Lucien grinned, pushing his fingers under the lace covering you. He slid them through the wetness pooled there, the evidence of your desire. “Dirty girl,” he purred, dipping his fingertips inside of you. “How many times have you dreamt of me touching you like this?” You whined at his touch and his words, trying to push your hips down onto his fingers. He pulled away at that, tutting at you. “Oh, pretty girl. I have waited decades to have my hands on you. Let me play.”

You snapped at the pure seduction coming from his mouth, fisting his shirt as you dragged his lips back to yours. You kissed him hard, begging for his touch back. He wasted no time in sliding his fingers back to you, bringing them up to circle your clit. You cried out into this kiss, the heat in you building. You felt him smile against your lips as one finger slid inside you. You moaned at the feeling of him, his finger exploring you. “More, Lucien.” You gasped out, other hand coming up to grab onto his back. He obeyed, pushing a second finger into you and curling them deliciously. Moan after moan fell from your lips as he worked you, his thumb coming up to rub you. His tongue was punishing on yours, the years of longing speeding your orgasm up. “Oh, Lu, I’m gonna-“ You mumbled against him, clenching as the pleasure washed over you. Cries fell from you while he pushed you through it, prolonging the feeling as much as possible. You dug your nails into his skin, struggling to remember how to breathe.

He slowed his movements, pulling his fingers from you. He dragged them up to your mouth, tapping your lips. “Suck.” He commanded, pupils blown wide as you obediently pulled his fingers into your mouth. You sucked the taste of you off of them, keeping eye contact the whole time. You licked up his fingers, showing him what you could do to another body part of his. He groaned, throwing his head back as he took his fingers from your mouth. He leaned down to place a kiss to your perfect lips, whispering “Next time” against them.

Lucien dragged you off the counter, flipping you to face it. He put your hands flat on the marble in front of you, kissing behind your ear. “Hands stay here while I fuck you.”

You could have came again at those words alone.

You heard the sound of his belt unbuckling, trying to turn to see him. He grabbed the back of your head, turning you back to the counter. “Patience.” He said, the pain of his hand gripping your hair turning to pleasure. You pushed your ass against him, desperate for him. He chuckled before sliding the tip of him through your wetness. Gods, he felt huge. “Are you ready, my perfect girl?” He asked, waiting for your permission. You nodded quickly, a strained “Yes, please” coming out.

You gasped as he pushed the first few inches in, scratching your nails against the polished marble in front of you. He stretched you in a most delicious way, leaving you begging for more. “Lu, please. More.” you whined out, moaning as he pushed in farther. You thought he must be in by now, back arching when he went even deeper. He was going to destroy you.

Lucien bottomed out, staying still for a moment. You cried out, “Move, Lucien. Please.” He pulled you up by your hair, the other hand coming to push on your stomach to keep you close. He pulled out all the way, thrusting his full length back in in one move. You gave a scream, hand falling to hold onto the arm in front of you. Lucien growled in your ear, lost in the pleasure of being inside you.

He fucked into you hard, eating up the moans and cries you let out. His hand slid down to circle your clit again, brining your orgasm closer. “I want you to come with me, my love.” He whispered into your hair, kissing any part of you he could reach. You gave a moan of agreement, feeling seconds away from finishing again. “Wait until I say.” He commanded, quickening his movements on you. You felt ready to snap, fighting hard to keep your orgasm at bay. You whimpered at the effort, body clenching tight around Lucien. His groan in your ear let you know he was close, his thrusts beginning to become sloppy. “Now, love.” He whispered, the fingers on you unrelenting. You came with a scream of his name, feeling him spill into you moments later. His fingers rode you through your high, stopping once you were shaking with overstimulation.

You stood there for a moment, the two of you breathing heavy. Lucien slowly pulled out, you already feeling empty now that he was gone. He moved your underwear back to cover you, straightening your skirts. You turned to face him, fixing his pants back. He looked down at you, eyes connecting with yours. You had a million things to say, forgetting all of them as you stared at him.

He leaned down, kissing you softly. “I’ve loved you for a hundred years.” He whispered, your heart soaring. You smiled up at him, bringing him close. “As have I.” You confessed, happy to not have to hide anymore after so long.

A quiet cough sounded from the entry to the kitchen, catching you attention. You peered over Lucien’s shoulder to see Azriel, a cheeky smirk on his face. He definitely heard all of it. “So I take it our plan worked, then?”

Lucien turned to you, a question in his eyes. You twirled a piece of his hair between his fingers, explaining that you were messing with Azriel to make him jealous. His hands tightened on your waist, the ghost of a smile visible on his lips. He nodded when you were done, turning back to the male in the doorway.

“Thanks for making me realize what a fool I have been,” Lucien began, “but if you touch her like that again, I will snap your arm in half.”

***

i loveeeee some good jealousy !!! please keep leaving feedback and sending requests. i hope you guys enjoyed this one <3

[starkwlkr]

love potion no. 9 | sebastian vettel

teenage!sebastian vettel

summerween series

Sebastian Vettel was a flop with the chicks. Every girl he talked to would ignore him and walk away. What was wrong with him? Did he have something stuck in his teeth or was it his braces?

He didn’t let it get to his head until he met Y/n L/n. She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Everything about her was perfect. A girl like Y/n could never be seen with a nerd like me, thought Sebastian. She was the prom queen, everyone liked her, she had the best grades and she was most likely going to Yale or Harvard.

And what did Sebastian have? The reputation of being the school’s biggest nerd. How could he ever be with the most popular girl in school?

It all started when a Halloween dance was announced at school. Everyone was excited for it especially since they could wear costumes. Most couples were already thinking about their couples costumes. Sebastian had nothing in mind. He could go as Beetlejuice or maybe Peter Parker (not Spider-Man, everyone dressed up as Spider-Man). His thoughts were interrupted when his dream girl sat across from him at the table. It was study hall and he spent it in the library along with several other students.

“Hi.” Y/n L/n said to him. “Sorry I didn’t ask, but is it okay if I study here? I can move if you want me to.”

“No!” Sebastian said rather loudly. “Um . . I mean you can stay. No one is sitting there.”

Y/n smiled at him then proceeded to sit across from him. She took out her books and notebook and began to study. Sebastian didn’t get much studying done. He kept glancing at her, wondering if maybe he could start a conversation with her. By the time he actually built up the courage to say something, the bell had rung signaling the end of study hall. Y/n was already gone.

“Stupid.” Sebastian whispered to himself.

The days leading up to Halloween dance were pure hell for Sebastian. He heard many rumors that Jason, the most popular boy in school, was going to ask Y/n to the dance. That couldn’t happen, no! Sebastian needed to take you to the dance. Since it was a costume required dance, he needed the best costume to impress you so he looked through his old yearbooks and pulled up the class pictures from grade school. He found her name and read over her likes and dislikes, hobbies, and what she wished to be when she grew up. Every kid had a page like that, some kids changed, no longer liking Barbie or toy cars, but Sebastian never did. He still liked comics, cars, old movies.

You never changed either.

Likes: Star Wars, the color pink, almond M&M’s

That’s it! Star Wars was his answer. It was pretty obvious that Y/n would chose to go as Princess Leia so Sebastian bought pieces of clothing to resemble Han Solo. He hoped that she would be impressed.

The day of the dance finally came and Sebastian was nervous. All around him people were dressed as witches, pirates, devils and angels and what was he dressed as? The captain of the millennium falcon.

He stood around hoping to spot Y/n, but there was no sign of her. Maybe she stayed home . . . This was a stupid idea anyway. Sebastian was defeated so he walked to the gym door and was about to leave when he bumped into Y/n in her costume.

“Holy shit! Han Solo!” She gasped when she saw Sebastian in costume.

“Princess Leia . . .” He cracked a smile. Y/n was dressed in Leila’s outfit from The Empire Strikes Back. “Hi.” He shyly said.

“Hi, Seb! I didn’t know you liked Star Wars? I love it! My brothers don’t so I really have no one to talk to about it, but maybe you and I could—”

“Y/n!” A friend of hers ran up to Sebastian and Y/n. “What are you wearing? We agreed to be cats!” She gestured to the fake drawn on whiskers and cat ear headband. “You look . . ”

“Pretty. She looks pretty.” Sebastian cut in. He really didn’t know where he got the confidence to speak up, but he was glad he did.

“Sure,” her friend rolled her eyes. “I don’t think Jason would like a prude for a girlfriend.”

“Well I’m not here with Jason.” Y/n stated. She then grabbed Sebastian’s hand and pulled him away from her friend. “You can have him!” She and Sebastian ran down the hall to god knows where. Sebastian didn’t really care in the moment. He could believe he was holding hands with her, especially dressed as Han Solo and Princess Leia.

Y/n and Sebastian ended up in the art room where they were laying on the rug staring at the painted ceiling.

“And don’t even get me started on all my ‘friends’! One of them called my dad hot! It was so uncomfortable so I stopped inviting them to my house.” Y/n revealed. She laughed it off knowing she was never going back to her friends.

“Oh god.” Sebastian chuckled. “I didn’t realize you knew my name.” He changed the topic.

“I’ve always known. We’ve been in each other’s classes since grade school!” Y/n pointed out. “You’re a really cool person, Seb, and I really like being with you.”

“You’re the only person who calls me Seb, you know. I like it.”

Y/n giggled. “Did you drink some of the punch?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Amber Marsh spiked the punch.”

So that’s where the confidence came from. Thank you Amber Marsh I guess, thought Sebastian. He couldn’t remember how many times he had gotten punch.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?” The boy and girl continued looking at the painted stars on the ceiling.

“I like you.” He admitted.

“I know.”

That was the closest they got to their Han and Leia moment until a year later when Sebastian finally said ‘I love you’ to Y/n. She replied with the classic ‘I know’ line that made Sebastian’s nerdy teenage heart melt.

TAGLIST

@yannew @annieoncrack @stinkyjax

[skywalkr-nberrie]

I’m so done with the whining and groaning about the casting in TPM, like why not we get past the first glances, and focus on the story? Padmé was CANONICALLY a 14 yo girl, while Anakin was 9! It’s not that huge of an age gap, even if you “feel uncomfortable” with the visual aspect of it all. And at the same time, certain weirdos will think it’s more normal for this same 14 yo girl to have a crush on a 25 yo man, pushing 30?? Nah baby, what DOES make more sense, is for a kid to make a deep bond with another kid. And that’s exactly what happened with TPM Anidala.

Realistically, why would Padmé even acknowledge or give OW ‘special treatment’ beyond the gratitude of their business affiliation? She was only affiliated to the Jedi because of the Chancellor (at that time) Qui Gon and OW were assigned to her, to help aid the blockade in her homeworld. To Padmé, this is all only official business. However Padmé building a genuine connection to Anakin, a boy who has nothing to do with her work, her world, her position, and only sought to help her out of the kindness of his own soul and heart is a very valid reason to become attached to someone and feel a deep connection to them, that carried out for years to come in the future.

Anakin was interested in getting to know “Padmé”, he didn’t care that she was a “handmaiden” or a “farmer’s daughter.” Even after he found out she was a whole queen, Padmé was afraid that Anakin’s view of her would change, but it never did. He told her, he still likes her, if she still liked him (as a friend). Padmé was endeared by his genuine passion and optimistic view on life. Years later, Anakin is still that same kind and genuine kid, whom helped her in her times of deep despair but now she’s beginning to see him as a man. It was due to their already established deep bond/friendship/connection all those years that help take route in their love. It’s a gradual love story.

Nitpickers really gotta stop focusing on such trivial things like the casting ages “not adding up”, because It’s such an unserious complaint. Especially since in TPM, they’re not “in love” yet. They’re only two kids, forming their first real connection or bond to their fellow kindred spirit. Even Natalie P. says, that before meeting Anakin, Padmé was nothing but a “mask”. Completely void of her own desires and personality. She confirms that it was ANAKIN who broke her out of that repetitive cycle.

(Source: Star Wars Archives - 1999-2005)

[bones4thecats]

أهلا please can you write a story about Poseidon and his wife the goddess of moon, he love her so much but she lost her memory and forgot it and now he is trying to help her remember him despite his pain. Sorry for my bad language

Type of Writing: Request Character: Poseidon Name: Poseidon with Moon Goddess! Reader that Loses Her Memory Requester: @75rrgyt34

A/N: أهلاً بك! I hope that was right, I use google when it comes to languages I don't know fluently😅. I hope you do enjoy this, lil bubbles🫧!

⚠️ Content Warning: Trauma, severe wounds, child loss, trauma, and war ⚠️

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🔱 You were the Greek Goddess of the Moon, and the daughter of the Titan Goddess of the Moon, Selene, whom created you from a speck of the moon's dust

🔱 Due to the Titanomachy, or, as many nowadays call it, the Titan War, you and Poseidon started off on bad terms, since he had witness the fight your mother participated in

🔱 When she was taken away and imprisoned, you just watched while floating next to the brothers as she smiled at you and blew a kiss of stars, which now were littered throughout your hair, symbolizing the everlasting love your mother has for you

🔱 Poseidon would watch as you floated over the ocean with a small smile as a dolphin would jump up to try playing or when a whale tried to splash you with some water from their blowhole or a swing of their tail

🔱 While many would view those actions as a symbol that the Greek God of the Sea disliked you, he had no control over the animals, they were merely the ones living in his domain

🔱 He had control of the waves and how the weather surrounding the sea made it react, and it always seemed to go from rough and rage-filled to calm and filled with delicacy whenever you were around

🔱 You and Poseidon bonded quite well, as you were very quiet and peaceful like your mother, but you also had a darker side, one similar to Poseidon's normal mood

🔱 It took a very long time, and by a very long time, I mean around maybe a few centuries, for you guys to start courting one another, and another thousand or so years for you guys to get married and start a life together

🔱 In the first few months of your relationship, you had gotten pregnant and Hera said you were destined to have a baby boy, which you and Poseidon decided on the name Πρωτότοκος, or Protótokos, which means firstborn in Greek

🔱 Poseidon and you were extremely excited for the new chapter you were about to begin, but it all came crashing down when the Gigantomachy broke out

🔱 You were resting at home when Poseidon attending an important meeting with his brothers, Ares, and Hermes, and once it ended, he went home to prepare for battle, and to get you to Hermes and into protection

🔱 But, when he arrived at the palace, he didn't see you awaiting him in the front of the throne room doors like usual, and with the war, he felt a bit uneasy

🔱 Following his instincts, he fled into your shared bedroom and found you on the ground with many wounds dressing your once clean figure

🔱 The worst ones would have to be the big bashing your head had taken and the large stab sounds on your stomach alongside bruises

🔱 He froze and went to check your pulse, which was thankfully still there, and when you were stabilized by the nurses and doctors he ordered in to help you, he headed off to battle with nothing but pure rage in his heart

🔱 They may be able to hurt him, but nobody will ever touch nonetheless try killing the ones he holds closest to him, especially his wife and unborn child

🔱 When the war ended and he returned to hear the news of what happened to you, he was met with the horrible news of losing the child due to trauma, and your memories may not even be there, also due to trauma

🔱 Poseidon tried distancing himself as you awoke and began healing, but he couldn't leave you alone, besides, Zeus and Hades kept dragging him, more so Hades then Zeus, since Poseidon would skewer him

🔱 Seeing you look confused at him hurt, you were supposed to look at him with love in your eyes, not this distant unknowing of him and what you two had made and lost

🔱 He made it his life goal to help you restore your memories, no matter the cost, you were his wife, he made a pledge to you long ago that he'd be with you throughout any challenge that plagued your lives, and this was going to be the hardest one he faces, he hopes...

[tonberry-yoda]

Hopeful - Ramattra

Pairing - Ramattra x reader

Warnings - too much fluff frrrr

Word Count - 3,937

Notes - this fic was inspired by this post by @lady-shimada!! i am super thankful to them for allowing me to write this wonderful idea because I absolutely love how this turned out!! this is one of my longest fics yet and I cannot express how fun this was to write!! thank you again @lady-shimada and I really hope you enjoy it!!! Have a great rest of your day/night everyone and please stay hydrated!!! <3333

You wiped the sweat off of your forehead and smiled at your work. "Does that feel better?" You asked the omnic who's arm you had just finished fixing up.

She rolled her arm and practically beamed at you, if she could of course. "Thank you! Y-You don't know how much this means to me!!" She pulled you into an embrace and you hugged her back with no hesitation.

"Of course. I'm just happy to help all that I can." Nothing felt better than seeing an omnic happy. As a human, it was rare to get along with omnics, especially after the war, but you were just glad that there was some peace in the world that you could take part in. Especially thanks to your teacher, Zenyatta, who was an omnic himself. You just wanted a better world. One in which omnics were seen as more than just robots, but another half of humans.

"How much will that be?" The omnic pulled her wallet out and started fishing out cash.

"No, please, it's on me. I don't need any money."

"Please let me pay, it's the least I could do." She started shoving money at you, but you kept declining.

"Ma'am, I'm serious. Seeing you in tip top shape is more than enough payment for me."

"You're a blessing, you know that?!" The omnic threw her arms around you once more before thanking you what seemed like a thousand times before leaving.

Genji just smiled at you from across the room. "You are very talented, y/n."

"Oh, stop it, Genij." You cleaned off a couple of tools and gave Genji a playful punch on the arm.

"It's true! I don't know what the omnics would do without someone like you. I don't know what I would do without you." He pointed to his robotic body, making you giggle a bit.

"It's seriously the least I could do. They need help, right? That's what I'm here for. To provide that help." You wiped some oil off of your face and slipped off your dirty apron. "Now I'm off to go get some food because I am exhausted."

---

"Brother, I just want to know why you're not fighting for us! For the omnics! The ones who raised you!" Ramattra exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. He was on a walk with Zenyatta, as it had been years since they had last seen each other.

The two decided to get back in contact after a lot of thinking Zenyatta had done on his part. Moral of the story is: he missed Ramattra. They had an unbreakable bond that was taken away from them over a few disagreements. It's not that Zen wanted Ramattra back to change his mind. He just wanted to see him again. Without that brother-like omnic by his side, Zen was becoming a bit lonely.

"Don't you care about your people, brother?! Don't you care that they are dying?!"

"Of course I do, Ramattra," Zenyatta sat next to a nearby lake, looking up at the stars. "But doesn't everyone die?" His tone was soft and Ramattra was already getting frustrated.

"Yes! Everyone dies! But not like this, brother... not like this." He sat next to Zen, looking to the stars as well. "I just want peace for our people. I want to avenge Mondatta. I don't want it to happen all over again... especially to you." Ramattra sighed, feeling a little more at ease, waiting for Zenyatta to say something. Praying that he would agree with him.

"I understand how you must feel, brother," Zen's tone was still soft, not breaking once. "But we each have our own ways of thinking. I don't think anyone should die for the sake of others. I think in the end, we should all be equal."

"But how are we supposed to be equal when-"

Ramattra's rough tone was quickly interrupted by Zenyatta skipping a stone over the lake they were next to. "Listen, Ramattra. I invited you here because I missed you. That's all. We can have talks about war and death later, but for now," Zenyatta got up from his spot, continuing the walk. "I want to know how you've been."

---

"What did you get?" Genji walked up to you, taking a fry from your meal; the omnic he was talking to that was in recovery went back into rest mode. There were a lot of omnics that had to heal up, especially some who have seen some bad places. Your shop wasn't the cleanest, but at least you had a space for them to stay for a while.

"Well it looks like you already figured it out Mr. I Like To Steal Fries." You giggled, placing your food on a nearby table with tools strewn across it.

"Sorry, sorry," Genji put his hands in the air in joking defense. "Look, I'm just hungry too, y/n. You can't blame me."

"I thought you would be," you sighed, pulling out another bag. "So I got you some food too."

"That omnic was right... you are a blessing."

"Shut up Genji and just take the food. And you owe me a fry now!" You laughed, handing him his food.

"Do you have any more patients today?" Genji took off his mask to reveal his scar covered face. If only you could do something about that.

"I think I have one more... but it's a Junkertown patient."

"Are you serious?" Genji's mouth was full of food, shock painted on his face.

"Yeah," you said solemnly. "I hate getting those patients. Not because they're hard to fix, but because I feel so bad. The Junker Queen really fucks them up, I tell you what."

"I bet. I'm sorry." Genji looked at a patient who had been bed ridden for weeks. Another one from Junkertown, still trying to regain consciousness.

"Genji, I'm the last person you should be apologizing to." You looked down at your food, getting prepared for the patient you were going to have to help soon. You wished it didn't have to be this way between humans and omnics, but for now, this was the only thing you could do to help.

---

"Wait," Ramattra pinched the bridge of what would be his nose. "So you're telling me that you're teaching... a... human?"

"Two actually." Zenyatta said casually, watching an airplane fly by.

"Two?! Have you gone mad?!"

"Perhaps a little mad." Zen giggled to himself.

"You have got to be playing some sort of sick joke on me. I can't believe you would do something like that."

"Not all humans are bad. You do know that, right?" Zen gave Ramattra a playful look, which was returned with glaring eyes.

"Yes they are. Why else would we still be going through this pain and suffering?"

"Follow me. I want to show you something."

Ramattra sighed, but didn't argue with Zen. "Fine."

"Might I ask when the last time you spoke to a human was?"

Ramattra went silent, trying to think. "I don't really... speak to them. They made us suffer, so I make them suffer."

Zen hummed in response. "I see."

For the rest of the walk, the two omnics were silent. They didn't feel like more needed to be said, so they just listened to the nighttime birds sing and the slight breeze blow onto the nearby lake.

Ramattra loved when the world was peaceful. It was rare for him. Not often did he get to just enjoy the sounds of the world, it didn't feel like he was allowed to yet. He still had things he needed to do for his people. It was like a breath of fresh air was unheard of for Ramattra.

In that regard, he was very thankful for Zenyatta reaching out again. It was like how he used to live. And even if it wouldn't be permanent, it was nice.

"Right this way, brother." Zenyatta pointed down a dark alleyway, the only light coming from a dim lamp next to a sign that said in dark colors: "Omnic Repair". Zen opened the door to a dimly lit workshop with tired omnics lying in hospital-like beds.

Ramattra looked around the workshop, his gaze finding Genji who was sitting with an omnic that was in better condition with the rest, joking and chatting with him.

"Brother, what is thi-"

Ramattra was quickly interrupted by Zen putting his finger over what would be his mouth and pointing to you, who was hard at work fixing the omnic from Junkertown.

Ramattra turned to you and felt like everything around him had stopped. Like nothing existed in the world but you.

"Not all humans wish to see us suffer, Ramattra," Zen whispered with a smile, seeing how gentle you were with your patient.

"H-How?" Ramattra's tone was almost as soft as Zenyatta's.

"What do you mean, 'how?', brother? This is what they love to do. They want nothing more than to see an omnic live out its life."

"B-But... they're human."

"Very observant brother," Zenyatta giggled, putting his hand on Ramattra's lower back. "Why don't you say hello?" He pushed him to you, but Ramattra quickly stepped away.

"Zenyatta, I can't. They're doing something important right now." His eyes stayed glued to you, watching as your eyes didn't once leave your patient. You were so focused on fixing them, on helping them not be in pain, it was admirable.

You tilted your head, fixing a screw and stood up, stretching. "I'll be back." You said to your patient, who was already more than halfway completed. "You're a trooper."

The barely conscious omnic seemed to smile at you, giving you a limp high five and saying a soft "thank you."

You nodded and turned around, almost bumping into a large... omnic?!

You apologized and took a step back to find Ramattra standing in front of you. He was taller than any other omnic you have ever seen and a hell of a lot scarier too. But he also looked so... cool. Definitely unlike any other omnic you've met.

"y/n!" Zenyatta stepped out from behind Ramattra as you took off a face mask you had on. "You're doing excellent work in here!"

You smiled and gave Zenyatta a short hug. "Thank you, master. It's been a long day, but we're almost done."

"I'd like you to meet someone." Zenyatta pushed Ramattra in front of him, revealing to you the tall omnic. He had to be way over 6ft, he was gigantic.

"Hi!" You smiled, sticking your hand out to him.

"Hello there." Ramattra just stared at your hand and you let it limply fall to your side. You gave Zenyatta a confused look.

"This is Ramattra," Zenyatta introduced him because he knew that Ramattra wouldn't do it himself. "Ramattra, this is y/n."

"Does he need repair? Because he looks just fine to me. I mean I could check a couple of his bolts and wires, but like I said, he looks in tip top condition." You took a fry from the table in the corner of the room and popped it in your mouth.

"I need no repair, human." Ramattra's tone was rough, but it didn't scare you. It was just alarming to hear someone speak to you like that.

"Alright then... What can I help you with?"

Zenyatta just laughed and shook his head. "y/n, Ramattra here is like a brother to me. We've taught each other a lot, but got separated due to differences. I just wanted to show him the work you conduct in here, perhaps show him another side."

"Nothing will change my mind about humans." Ramattra turned around and crossed his arms, looking around the small workshop.

"That's not what I said, brother. I just wanted to show you something new, that's all."

Ramattra just ignored Zenyatta, walking over to an omnic who had to get all of his limbs replaced and was clearly exhausted, but still awake.

"Why are you here, brother?" Ramattra grabbed the omnic's hand, looking at his tired figure. "Why not get repaired by one of our own kind?"

The omnic just looked at Ramattra and stretched, his eyes getting brighter. "y/n is great. They make sure we're cared for and in our greatest condition."

"Yes, but they are human."

"I've met a lot of good humans in my day. And they are definitely one of them. If not for them, I wouldn't be here, talking to you."

"I see... Well, I will let you rest now. Godspeed, brother." Ramattra left the omnic to rest and saw that you went right back to work on your patient from when he walked in.

He walked over to you and sat down, watching you as you worked, not once thinking about anything else but saving this omnic.

"How long have you been doing this job?" You jumped slightly, shocked to hear Ramattra's booming voice.

You giggled, a little embarrassed about getting frightened. "I've always been interested in repairing, but it wasn't until I met Zenyatta that I realized that I can use those abilities on omnics too. Plus, I know that you all have been through a lot and I just want to start the movement to help. It's not much, but it's what I can do."

If Ramattra had a heart, it would be pounding. Perhaps he felt the simulation of it or at least his brain was telling him that his heart would be pounding. Whatever it was... he didn't like it. "W-Well, human's have been the reason for our destroyed life. The reason we are so hurt and suffer this much. It is because of you that you are fixing us. You're not helping with anything."

You didn't know how to respond. You had never been through what he has, nor do you even know how he would feel. So you just kept working on your patient. "I'm sorry." You ended up saying. "I know a simple apology isn't enough, but I am really trying to do better as a human. Omnics deserve much more than they are currently given and how they are treated, so, I'm sorry Ramattra." You looked up at him, making eye contact. "Truly."

For the first time, Ramattra couldn't say a single word. He had no rebuttal, nothing rude to say, no singular comment, nothing. He had nothing to say to you.

So instead of words, he opted for a head nod and continued watching you work. You were so precise, so caring, making sure not to hit any vital wires that would hurt the omnic in front of you. You knew what you were doing, and you were clearly skilled.

Shortly after, you took off your mask and smiled at your patient. After a couple of hours, this poor omnic that was torn apart by the citizens of Junkertown was finally as patched up as you could get them. Definitely able to live a mostly normal life and that was all you wanted for them.

The omnics eyes lit up. They couldn't walk or move too much due to their current condition, but they could definitely feel the difference. If they could smile, they would, but you could certainly tell how happy they were. "Th-Thank you." Their voice was weak, but sounded way happier than before. "You don't know how much this means to me."

"Of course," you smiled, grabbing their hand. "I'm just glad you're all better now. Like I said earlier, you're a trooper. Now get some rest, alright?"

They nodded lightly and pulled their blanket up their body, drifting off into sleep.

Ramattra was amazed. You were so... gentle with the omnics. You really did seem to love your job.

You slipped off your mask and your apron, receiving a high five and a "good job" from Genji.

"Thanks Genji. Another day done." You stretched, a couple of bones in your body popping.

"So," Ramattra scoffed, still trying to keep his intimidating front. "How much do you get paid for this?"

"I don't," you admitted, hanging up your apron and slipping on some slippers, yawning. "Why would they have to pay to continue living? That's just not fair."

God, Ramattra hated the way you were making him feel. Humans weren't supposed to be this... nice. They were evil. All of them. Right?

"Oh shoot!" You ran up to Ramattra, gently brushing your fingers over his arm. "There's a crack."

"It's nothing." Ramattra quickly pulled away from you.

"I saw a missing screw in there, it's not nothing. Can I please look at it?" You reached out your hand to him again and he pulled away again, walking away from you.

"No. I won't let a human touch me! I-"

Ramattra was interrupted by Zenyatta putting his hand on Ramattra's shoulder. "Just let them try. I promise they won't hurt you."

Ramattra sighed, but sat down anyway. He wasn't super stoked about having to be fixed by a human, but that crack and missing screw have been messing with his ability to use his arm properly. "Fine. But if you try anything, human, know that there will be prices to pay."

You could tell that Ramattra was stiff. You realized something though, perhaps this motion he made around humans wasn't because he was trying to defend himself or wanting you to fear him... it was because he was... scared. At least it seemed that way to you. He has only seen humans as something to harm him and the people he loves. Maybe being able to see a human as an ally was frightening to him.

"You don't have to be so tense," you giggled, pulling out a bag of assorted tools. "Loosen up a bit and this might be easier for both of us."

"It's a little difficult to do that... I don't want to drop my guard."

You hummed in response, picking out the tools you needed. "I understand... It must be weird to see humans as a nice thing, huh?"

Ramattra went silent for a moment, looking at a dim light bulb above him as you went to work. "I suppose. Your race has done nothing but hurt mine."

"I wish it didn't have to be this way," your tone was gentle as you concentrated on your work.

"Me too." For the first time, Ramattra's tone dropped. He wasn't trying to intimidate you anymore. It sounded almost... friendly.

"I'm going to bed, y/n." Genji took a step away from his desk that was cooped up in the corner of the workshop and stretched. "Great job today."

"Thank you Genji," you smiled. "Get a good night's rest, alright? It's already pretty late."

"I will. Don't work yourself to the bone, got it?"

"I won't. I'll be heading to bed myself after I fix up our new friend here." You chuckled as Genji went off to his room.

"After I fix up our new friend here."

Was Ramattra really stooping so low to find a human... friend? No. There was no way.

"All done!" You put any tools away and looked over Ramattra's metal body to see if there was anything else you needed to do.

Ramattra moved his arm and was shocked. It was the best his arm has felt in years.

"Thank you." Ramattra bowed at you. "I... appreciate your efforts."

"Anytime," you cleaned up and smiled at Ramattra, your hands moving to your hips. "Just be sure to come back again if there's anything wrong, alright?"

Ramattra just nodded and followed Zenyatta to the door of the workshop.

"Oh, y/n?"

You were headed up to your room to finally get some rest after such a long day, but were stopped by Ramattra's voice.

"Yes?" You stuck your head out from the top of the stairs.

"Promise to get a good night's rest?"

You thought for a moment as a smirk painted your face. "Yes. Promise to be back?"

Ramattra thought for a moment. "...Yes."

---

Ramattra did, in fact, come back. A lot actually. More than you expected him to, at least.

At first, it was for small upgrades he was thinking about related to his body and his weapon. And then it was to just see what you were working on and to visit other omnics. And finally, it was just to see you.

It was odd building a relationship with someone who hated your kind. Someone who was afraid that you would turn your back on him at any second. But you noticed every day that he would warm up to you more and more. Even if it was just little things like scooting a little closer to you or telling you about his day.

There started to be days where you would rarely not see his face.

---

"Good morning, y/n." You heard that familiar bell of your workshop door opening and Ramattra ducking his head to get through.

"Good morning, Ramattra." You smiled, continuing to sweep the floor.

"Any big plans for the day?"

"Nope! Today's my day off so I'm going to try to organize this hellhole."

Ramattra chuckled at the sight of your messy workshop. It wasn't unsanitary by any means, just cluttered.

"Sounds good." Ramattra nodded, sitting on a nearby stool, looking giant in it.

"Do you need any upgrades or anything fixed, Ramattra?"

"No, not that I can think of."

"Then do you have any big plans for the day?"

"No. I trained with Zenyatta this morning, but that's the only plan I made for today."

The two of you did what you needed to do in silence. You cleaned up all the clutter, trying to organize it to your best ability, and Ramattra would be on standby if you needed him to reach anything.

"Can I be honest with you, y/n?" If Ramattra could blush, he knew he absolutely would've been.

"Sure, Ramattra. Go ahead." You finally got a chance to take a breather, so you sat across from him.

He cleared his throat and kept his composure. He couldn't lose that stoic posture, couldn't let his guard down. "You are the most tolerable human I have ever met."

You laughed out loud. "Thank you?"

"I mean it. You're kind, caring, and helpful. I hate to admit it, but I think I'm actually starting to like you." He laughed, not believing he was actually saying any of this to you.

"That's actually very sweet, Ramattra. I've liked you from the beginning, so nothing has really changed over in my department." You smiled, laying your hand on the table.

"y/n? I just wanted to let you know, I hate the way you make me feel."

"Really?" You laughed. "Why's that?"

"I don't particularly enjoy conversing with humans, let alone take pleasure in being around them."

"Is it scary?" You asked, tilting your head a bit.

"To be honest with you, it's terrifying. I feel like I'm losing that hard edge. Growing softer. I'm not keen on that." He chuckled almost nervously and you slid your hand over to his.

"Well, I like guys with a soft side." You smiled and immediately made whatever heart Ramattra did have melt. How dare you!

"Don't you dare." Ramattra chuckled, giving you a playful smack on the hand.

"I'm glad I met you, Ramattra."

"I feel the same... I'm thankful that there are humans out in the world like you. It's almost making me..."

"Hopeful?"

"Precisely."

Ramattra walked up to you and placed his forehead on yours. You planted a small kiss on his cheek and he hugged you.

Yeah. You were making him feel hopeful.

~~~~~

overwatch masterlist --- pinned post

@tonberry-yoda

TAG LIST:

(these were all people i saw that were interested in this specific writing and ramattra x reader in general <3) @deepparadisesheep @tarotbonez @xoneaboveallx @snufkuluf @jinne-lee @igzsatelier

<333

[mrsoftthoughts]

Will Solace headcanons

- He's TALL

Like, really REALLY tall, at least for his age, this boy is like 1,82 ( smt like 6'0 with ⅔ of an inch I think?) at the age of fifteen and always has been the kind of kid who was at the end when the lines where from height order.

-The kind of person that gets red like a tomato

He looks like Tinkerbell whenever he gets flushed, especially but not exclusively when he is mad or has been laughing too hard.

-He is the embodiment of a social introvert

He likes spend time with his family and Friends, but he gets drained very easily, sometimes if he can avoid being surrounded by more than a few people or none at all, he isn't hesitating on taking that chance, and for that, he used to love when the cabin was empty of with just one or two of his siblings instead of the little battalion (Ofc he only could find that comfortable when the emptiness just means that all the others were at their daily activities and no that he, Austin and Kayla were the only one to fill the place until a new arrival.)

-Ok with PDA in public spaces if he's dating a girl, but sometimes he is kinda more reserved and discreet if his partner is a boy

Hear me out, he knows that there is nothing wrong with him or his relationship with a person of his same gender, but he has heard the things that some intolerant people are capable of and sees the consequences of it in some summer-only campers (and back at his home too, Remember that this boy is from Texas of all places) and he is terrified of the mere tough, so he's very wary of where or how much PDA displays towards his partner.

-His relationship with Naomi is great, but not really" Mother and son" like, but more "cool rich older friend/sister and bestie/younger brother"

None of them seem to realize or acknowledge that this isn't necessarily a good thing or that can be directly a problem due to the fact that Naomi has this little "eternal teenager" síndrome which is certainly not the best rely-on figure for an ACTUAL teenager.

-Kinda related to the last one, but he was partially/mostly raised by his grandparents

Naomi still being there, but she never quit her musical career which grew exponentially during her pregnancy, so sometimes she was out for a kinda Long time, They're this little southern older and kinda wealthy couple who absolutely love their grandson ( of which they were convinced that was the second mesias or something like a miracle at least due to his really weir birth conditions) Mr, Solace is guilty of wills star wars obsession

-This boy was literally indetectable during his ELEVEN months of gestation,

Naomi entered the hospital thinking that it was a digestive problem and ended up with a baby (that surprisedly for a newborn is pretty, like almost perfect to the point that feels beyond humanity) that looked like this guy whom she had met the past year in a trip to Austin, except that he and her cut the relationship way long before that what a normal pregnancy should be, her family end up convinced that was some kind of God's will and that's why they aren't bothered by Naomi having a child without being married or even in a relationship

- Igaf on what canon says, even if Will isn't usually a fighter, he, like any other demigod has a weapon, o well three

He has a bow, not his preferred one tough, his reaction is a bit too slow so forget about shot at a moving objective, Wich means that is useless when it comes to combat (and even in the archery range he is average or straight up sucks if their siblings are fair comparison), but that leads us to his preferred one for the last year's

Remember that shotgun that is just randomly in the armory? Well, he has his version of it, a Rifle, which is kinda restricted of in use because he can't use that thing for everything, the bullets are one-use-only which is kinda impractical and the mist wouldn't do shit to cover it up ( since that thing is already one of the disguises for the swords in this universe) and how tf are you supposed to explain that a minor has a hunting weapon in a big city?? Yeah- but his aim shines with that baby though

Sadly it has been slowly replaced while Will learns how to use his photokinesis and fulfill his dream of having his own light sable ( Why we are sleeping on the fact that this is just the best weapon to give a star wars fan capable of manipulating the fuckin light?!)

[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Pulling strings and aura reading. 3124 words.

1986

Hedy Lamarr: Golden Age movie star and inventor. George Antheil: avant-garde composer and inventor. Together, at the beginning of World War II, they developed a radio guidance system for the Allied Forces that could employ frequency hopping technology in order to overcome the issue of the Axis Powers’ signal jamming. Decades later, their innovation would become the basis for Wi-Fi and Bluetooth tech.

The Hollywood dinner party Hedy and George were both invited to would mark their meeting in 1940. Hedy hadn’t planned on attending.

“I hear you won’t be the only free thinker there, Hed,” Abby sing-songed from the passenger seat of Hedy’s car. “Maybe you should go. And besides, Janet’s parties are always so fashionable. I’m sure even more so now she’s married that little costumer designer of hers.”

And with that, Abby had pulled yet another set of strings. It was what she excelled at. Mostly, that was a good thing. She was a good witch. However, you hadn’t always seen eye-to-eye, especially since she was prone to stealing your clothes. When she cleared her throat, you noticed she was wearing the purple lace top you loved. Not lost on the road trip to Hawkins then.

“While it is in a witch’s nature to romanticise… well, everything... I must redirect your attention to what is clearly the most critical issue…” Abby started. She shot you a look. “Where is your angelic vampire now?”

Gillian looked at Sally. She had assumed you’d left Eddie in Hawkins. Certainly, he couldn’t be within the walls of the coven. A vampire couldn’t cross the hidden forest threshold.

You felt Kelsey move closer to you, standing behind you, closing ranks.

“Somewhere safe,” you told Abby.

“Can’t be more specific than that?”

“Fuck, Abby, does that matter?”

“I just want to know if you’ve made the same mistake twice. Did you bring a fox into the henhouse again?”

“I resent the implication of being a defenseless hen,” Kels complained.

The witches were talking among themselves once more, Abby planting a seed of fear in the coven. Eyes darted around, often flicking to you with accusatory stares. Your stomach was churning and Eddie was pushed as deeply into the corner of your pocket as he could go.

“Doesn’t this boil down to – do the means justify the ends? Because we have never abided by that before,”

“If the ends are the survival of the coven and the safety of the humans, then yes!”

Arguments were breaking out across the hall.

“Why didn’t she tell us about the vampire as soon as she happened across it?”

“Because we are a coven, not a hive mind. We are allowed to explore and learn for ourselves.”

You couldn’t gauge if a consensus was forming. Questions were coming hard and fast.

“Can we trust any of them again?”

“Where is the justice?”

“If it really is good, if… he has a soul… were there others?”

“What else have we been wrong about?”

“Even if it is good, what if it makes more, and they are the monsters we used to know?”

The tension was continuing to build. Those in the coven who were conflict-avoidant began to filter out of the hall. Whatever happened, what conclusion came, they would accept unconditionally. Other witches who had hitherto said nothing, began to share their opinions with those near them.

A voice called from within the crowd. A demand to be brought closer. Guðrún sat in her enchanted rocking chair, letting it glide just above the ground until she came to a stop before you. She was the oldest in the coven, having lived lives upon lives upon lives.

You knew Guðrún would scold Gillian and Sally later. To keep her in the dark about such important matters showed her a deep disrespect. That matter would be settled in private, among friends. You, though, the way she looked at you was as cold as ice.

“You are a healer. A rare and special gift for a witch. It comes as no surprise that you believed you saw life in something undead. When you tell your story, conviction yellow. Beloving pink.”

Guðrún was the only aura reader of the coven. Ancient wisdom gave her additional senses.

“But now. As you stand. Green turning bad. Not yet deception. Something concealed.”

Don’t break eye contact.

Don’t hold your breath.

Don’t roll over and show your soft belly.

“Too many. Too many hues. What is concealed… It is a… void. Not black, but a vacuum.”

Guðrún’s gaze trailed down to where Eddie was in your pocket. She couldn’t see him, but she could see the empty space around him where an aura should be.

Sally had figured it out the night before. The way you sat, careful of the way your jacket draped over body. Other physical cues. It was that, and that she just knew you. You’d never be parted from Eddie again. She kept the secret from her sister.

Gillian worked it out only then, following Guðrún’s line of sight. “You couldn’t unhex him completely? He returned to the bat form?” she asked you, stepping closer, ignoring the coven’s growing sense of anger and terror.

You said nothing.

She narrowed her eyes. “No. You did. But… This is how you got him through the gate… A trick of form?”

Realisation rippled outwards. For a moment, curiosity and anxiety were radiating from the coven in equal measures.

“If it is good, such a well behaved creature, then show us,” Abby called.

“He is not a show dog, Abigail,” you spat at her.

“Obviously not a dog. A bat. You’ve always had a penchant for the poetic. It’s a bit on the nose though,”

“Shut the fuck up, Abby,” Kelsey growled.

A strange sort of anticipatory silence fell across the hall. You knew what they were all waiting for.

…

1986, a few days earlier

“It smells nice,” Eddie commented.

He was sitting on the couch behind you. You’d dragged your coffee table altar closer to it, so you could sit between his legs on the floor and do your work.

“It’s the sage. You always say something when there’s sage.”

Your protection spell for Eddie had been finished, but in the eleventh hour, you had a stroke of inspiration.

The potion was a total risk. It was more guesswork than witchcraft. Almost a Hail Mary. You’d probably be throwing up into the mix out of stress if Eddie wasn’t gently playing with your hair.

It was symbiosis. He liked to have his hands on you. You liked his nails on your scalp. Everyone was kept sedated.

“It’s a good idea, my love,” Eddie told you, again.

“In theory,”

“And in practice. It will work.”

…

1986, a few days later

You knew what they were all waiting for.

“Remember that what you put into the world comes back tenfold,” you warned.

After one last look to Kelsey for support, you reached into your jacket and scooped Eddie up. While keeping your hand touching your chest, you uncurled your fingers to reveal the small bat.

Mostly, the witches were underwhelmed. Some, confused.

“Turn it back,” a voice from somewhere in the crowd said.

“Again. He is not a fucking show dog,” you sneered.

“Then how do we know it’s not dangerous?” Abby asked. “Who says as soon as it’s back in its vampire form, it won’t try to kill us all?”

She’s a good witch, you reminded yourself. A good witch. Part of your coven. But every family has the shit-stirring little sister that could stand to be brought down a peg or two. Alas, it was not the time nor place.

“Me,” you answered.

“And me,” Kelsey added.

“If you come pleading for absolution, the condition of an introduction is not too great an ask,” Guðrún declared. “If it is not a monster, then a meeting should pose no challenge,”

“The challenge doesn’t lie with me. It is with the coven,” you told her.

“You fear violence,”

“Yes. Should I not? Can you tell me all the colours emanating around us are peaceful blues? I know you see red and black and midnight tones. Why shouldn’t I fear this?”

Guðrún studied your face, briefly read the room. Before she could say anything else, and before Abby could move things along with a tug of a string, you let yourself really feel the fear. You wanted to puke.

“I have everything to lose,” you said, voice cracking. Eddie’s tiny little bat hands clung to your shirt, your hands shielding him still. “I am entirely prepared to lose my place here. And, you know what happens to a covenless witch. I have spent weeks agonising over this. All the possible outcomes. Yet here I fucking am. Telling you, all of you, what I did. What I did wrong. Why I did it. Telling you that I was stupid and I feel embarrassed. But that I was in love. That I am in love. That I was hurt in an immeasurable way. But I have found a way from there to here, and that means something. It is worth something.”

Everybody was silent.

It was always going to come to this.

Turning to Kelsey, she pre-empted your request, casting darkness over the windows, then heading out the hall.

“His name is Eddie. Edward. He was twenty when he was turned. It was 1586. He had no choice. He’s almost finished The Lord of the Rings. He helps me forage. He does housework… Eddie has a list of cats throughout history he thinks are cool. His favourite is Unsinkable Sam… He’s… He’s not what you think he is.”

Still, nobody said anything.

Kelsey reappeared at your side, holding out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  Taking them, you turned your back on the coven, standing close enough to Kels that you formed a small partition. Your teeth were trying to chatter, nervous energy screaming to get out of you.

Please. Please. Please.

You didn’t know who you were praying to.

You said the words, Eddie appeared.

The silence became a living thing. It ate up gasps and giggles. Words and wind.

Eddie dressed quickly, but not too quickly. No vampire speed. No sudden movements. He looked you dead in the eye, your reflection in that deep darkness. Hand in hand, you stepped to reveal him to your coven.

There was not a single face of indifference.

Becoming hyper-aware of everything in your surroundings, you first focussed on Sally and Gillian. Their slumped postures. Deep set frowns. Resignation. No threat.

Abby’s fast and shallow breathing. Blown pupils.

Guðrún was squinting so hard you could barely see her eyes. She could will it all she wanted, there was no aura to read. She had no better insight than you. Than any of the others. It made her feel powerless, but in that was grace. If she had no better vantage point, her vote meant nothing more. She ceded. 

The grief was written all over Sara’s face as she moved silently through the coven. You stepped in front of Eddie, held a hand out to her.

“Bug, wait,” you asked. Sara – Bug – who you used to spend hours drying and pressing flowers with. Preserving colour and beauty. Happy in each other’s company.   

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore,” Sara snapped. “You walked by our side for centuries, but by a single moonlit night you betrayed us?”

“Sara-”

“No. She died in my arms… You were there. You tried to stitch her together. But her skin was too shredded. Too much blood loss. They ripped her apart and now… Now this?”

Sara’s grandmother was older than Guðrún but perished at the hands of Eddie’s colony. You had tried to heal her. Save her. There hadn’t been any hope though.

Sara’s hand moved in her pocket and you became acutely aware of why she had not said anything earlier. She hadn’t been in the room. Sara had disappeared and filled her pockets with the death dust. Most witches had stored theirs away, the need gone. Not Sara. Not ever.

She moved fast, her palms flung open and a deep breath out pushing dust up and at Eddie with supernatural speed and force. It would only take a single flake of it to kill him.

It all happened in an instant. The magic hit the border of the protection spell and Sara was showered in the dust, as if she had been the intended target. Simultaneously, Eddie hissed, an innate and unconscious reaction to an attack. And you grabbed him by the arm and yanked him backward, putting space between him and the coven.

Everyone froze, processing your warning of tenfold and the events that had transpired.

Tears streamed down Sara’s face. “You’re choosing him over us?”

Abby walked to her, wrapped an arm around her waist. “Bug,” she said softly.

“I’m asking to not have to choose,” you tried to explain.

Sara wasn’t listening, not to you, not to Abby, who was whispering something to her. Distracted by this, you did not see Alexis.

Alexis did not come for death. She came for pain. She held a dagger made from carnelian, steel, and crocodile scales. She drove the dagger through the air, but hit the spell border just as the death dust had. The spell was a mirror, it would reverse the magic back to sender.

Alexis’ blade spun from her hands and glided too quickly at her. It aimed for her heart, as she had aimed for Eddie’s. Its trajectory would have seen it plunge through her ribcage’s gaps and into her still-beating heart. If Alexis died, it would all be over.

But Eddie was there.

He moved in a blink and caught Alexis with one arm, holding her safely. His other grabbed the dagger, letting it slice through the side of the hand so he could catch it mid-air. The room held its breath. Alexis’ green eyes were wide and set on Eddie. She couldn’t look away, couldn’t pull herself from Eddie’s embrace.

“I mean you no harm,” he murmured quietly, just to her. “And I like your freckles.”

Eddie let Alexis go; she stumbled a few steps before steadying herself. He moved slowly again, turning to the coven and dropping the dagger, letting it clang against the floorboards.

You rushed to him, throwing your arms around him. “Are you okay?” Looking down, Eddie had already healed from the blade. You held him tightly. He closed his eyes and melted into you.

The witches watched. Some submerged in waves of grief, some choking on anger. Some could smell honeysuckle, a sure sign of true love. Others felt a ripple of change, their skin prickling with goosebumps.

You looked to the coven.

“This is… too much. It’s too much for me. And for each of you… But it’s done…” You shook your head, then shrugged. “I just… I don’t know… We have been guided by so many forces. By what we learn. By fate, and life, and death. By the systems of morality we take from the humans. By each other. And I don’t know what’s really right. So, I’ll make my own meaning now. It’s… yeah, it’s been working. What I’ve done in Hawkins. It is good. There’s good to be done there…”

It was resonating. Ev, Meg, and Hailey. Ash, Mel, and Kelsey. More and more witches, lost in a liminal space of post-purpose. What did it mean to be a witch without a goal? What did it mean to be a woman in 1986?

Eddie watched you. I will diminish, and go into the West and remain Galadriel, the book echoed in his head. You held yourself with the same loveliness as Galadriel. Not always, but now.

“I’m going back. Maybe I’ll stay there. Maybe I’ll find somewhere else that needs help. But I don’t belong here anymore. And, maybe that’s okay. Maybe it will… it will be okay…”

As your thoughts trailed off, you met Abby’s gaze. She nodded once, a promise that you would be left alone. You nodded back, then looked for Guðrún. She had already left, putting faith in the youth of the coven.

Some of the witches began to leave the hall. You had no way of knowing who you had hurt and if you would ever be forgiven, but you were willing to pay the price of that shame to keep Eddie.

Kelsey was the first to come to you. “I’m coming with you,” she announced fearlessly.

“Me too,” echoed Mel.

The others stepped up, nodding.

“You don’t have to do this,” you told them.

“And you don’t get to tell us what to do,” Meg replied.

“You’re right. Maybe you don’t belong here. But maybe you’re not the only one,” Ev said.

A deep exhaustion was taking over. Your energy was draining into the protection spell, the mirrored bubble around Eddie took so much of your magic to keep intact. All you had in you to do was nod. You’d argue with them another day.

“Hi,” from Ash then. She grinned at Eddie.

“Hi,” he replied, flashing her a trademark smile. He took your hand. “I, ah, look forward to meeting you all. But I believe it might be best if I depart. For now,”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Do you wanna go ahead? I know this looks like a truce but it feels more like a stalemate. I’ll be on the road in a few hours... Sic fiat,” and the bat swirled through the air and out the open door. He flew up, up, up, until the wards of the coven were far below him.

Eddie covered miles of Catskills quickly, before finding a nice tree to huddle in, awaiting your arrival.

“You’re leaving already?” Kelsey asked.

“You don’t have to go right away,” Hailey told you.

“I’m causing more sorrow than joy being here. It’s not fair on the others,”

“What happened wasn’t fair to you,” Mel pointed out.

“I know. But… This isn’t black and white… But I’m kind of tired… Meg… Any cinnamon rolls ready? You know, for the road?”

You sat with your sisters, drinking tea and eating baked goods. They told you about their lives, about what the past few months had looked like for them. And while none of it was on the same scale as Henry Creel and revived vampires, you realised you were not alone.

When you imagined the path forward, you were always holding Eddie’s hand. You were the only witch walking though. However, all it took to build a coven was a couple of witches with overlapping notions of love, magic, and morality. Maybe there was room for more.

End Note: Thank you to @jo-harrington for teaching me about the very real Hedy Lamarr. If you don't know about her, she is absolutely worth a Google.

To the newest additions to the coven - @munson-blurbs and @littlesubbyflower. Thank you for being the face of objection.

And, to anyone that loves Catfish and the Bottlemen as much as I do... I had to do it. Hopefully, it wasn't too cringe lmaoooooo.

Grimoire is updated.

REBLOG AND TELL ME YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELS!!!

Love yas.

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[sweaterrat]

Portals Plus ✦ PROMISE

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Silence drifted around the resistance camp like a noiseless fog, thick with tension and grief. Winter was nearing which only made it worse for everyone. Winter in the apocalypse was frigid and unforgiving, especially way up north where they were. Right now, everyone was getting a preview of the harsh storms to come.

Being underground helped a little bit. It was warmer here and much safer versus the freezing, kraang-ridden world on the outside. Niyah sighed as she felt herself sink into the well worn out couch she laid on. Her eyes glazed over the half of dozens of kids on a mat, all huddled together under a thick blanket. Niyah had the privilege to look after these bundles of energy while their parents were out fighting a losing battle against the kraang.

Niyah’s expression fell into a meager frown as she watched over the children. Her heart broke for the children who no longer had parents. Their parents had passed while fighting the war. They were all far too young to be forced to go through something like this.

A sigh heaved from Niyah’s lungs; the kids weren’t the only ones who lost loved ones. It’s been a few days since Raph passed away. It’s been affecting everyone, even the kids! But of course, It hurt his brothers the most. Leo has been MIA, spirits know where the hell he’s been, and Kat had to step up as leader for a while (being his second in command, it was kind of her job to do so). Mikey was helping Kat take care of everything and everyone but there was an obvious lack of energy in his step. He wasn’t as bubbly as he was but he hid it well. And then there was Donnie. He had been shut up in his lab for the better half of a week.

The door to his lab was always locked and rarely opened. Niyah has never seen it open but sometimes she leaves food out for him and when she comes back, the whole plate is gone. She suspects that Donnie opens the door to take it but then again, anything could’ve taken it. She worried if Donnie had been eating at all. She had begged him to come out or at least let her come in, but she was always met with silence.

She couldn’t blame him— he was grieving just like the rest of them. Niyah only wished that she could see him and help him. He didn’t always have to do things alone (and frankly, she was feeling a bit lonely without seeing him).

With a small groan, Niyah sat up and stretched, finally getting off the couch and started walking to the food court. It was about time Donnie should eat.

As she entered the cafeteria, she was greeted by Baron Draxum. When Draxum wasn’t a warring warrior scientist, he was (once again) just the lunch lady. With the help of Daxum’s leftover mutagen, he could mutate fruits and vegetables into way bigger versions of themselves, helping to feed the hundreds of people who joined the resistance. Thank the stars, the food was still edible and Mikey sometimes helped out in the kitchen (Donnie was tasked with growing all the mutated crops because of his not-so-secret love for botany). Things were looking pretty good food wise.

“Greetings, human. Finally coming to eat?” Draxum was behind a counter, already preparing a plate of tonight’s dinner. It was baked potatoes!

“Hey, Drax,” Niyah greeted. “Nah, I’m just getting Donnie his fill.” She feigned a smile as she leaned against the counter Draxum was at.

The other slightly frowned. “You have to eat too, you know.” He grumbled, placing baked potatoes on a plastic plate.

“I know, I know. Not hungry, though, I’ll be fine.” Niyah halfheartedly chuckled, “It’s not like I do much around here anyways. Everyone else is fighting for a meal and I’m just… doing nothing.” Her eyes were downcast, feeling guilt twinge in her soul. She could’ve been doing so much more than babysitting, she thought. Don’t get her wrong, she loved hanging out with the kiddos, but she could be doing things actually useful.

“Don’t act as if you don’t help around a lot. You do so much more than you realize.” He reassured while handing her two plates of baked potatoes.

“Draxum,” She sighed, “I said I’m not—”

“I know what you said, I’m not deaf.” He grunted, going to the back to do whatever he was doing. “Now, go eat.”

Draxum may seem big and scary, but deep deep deep down, he’s a pretty great guy. Niyah smiled a little while rolling her eyes. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Drax.”

He only hummed in response, “Just make sure that boy takes care of himself too. You know how he can be when he gets upset. Losing someone you care about is not easy.” Niyah’s smile dropped and she nodded almost robotically.

“I’m off,” she said, waving goodbye to him. He returned the wave halfheartedly and went back to cleaning up.

Niyah treaded down the quiet halls. Most people would be asleep right now after dinner. It was pretty late out anyway (she thinks. It’s hard to tell time underground), but Donnie would definitely be awake. He always was for the past few times she’s brought him food.

Niyah approached the door to Donnie’s lab, slightly hesitating before giving it a knock. “Hey Don, I got you food.” She spoke somewhat hopefully, but, like usual, he didn’t respond. She sighed, “Can you knock to let me know you’re here?”

A moment or two later, Niyah heard shuffling on the other side of the door. First, the screech of a chair against the floor, something beeping then shutting off, soft footsteps… two soft knocks sounded from the inside. Niyah smiled, he’s here.

“I’m gonna leave it out here, okay? In the front.” She placed one of the plates of baked potatoes in front of the door. Usually, she’d leave after dropping his food off, but something told her to stay.

A minute later, the lab door creaked open just a smidge. Niyah’s eyes instantly darted to the opened part of the doorway, freezing in place when she made eye contact with…

“Donnie.” She sucked in a breath, staring at nothing but his eye (the other was hidden by the door). He looked just as shocked to see her. For a second, they just stood there, staring, but Donnie snapped out of it and snatched the plate of food.

Niyah flinched at the sudden movement but blinked and shouted “Wait!” But she was too late. The door quickly shut, leaving her stunned. She tried putting an ear to the door to hear something— anything, but it was silent. Niyah frowned and let out a heavy sigh. She’s not gonna lie, she’s missed Donnie a lot. He started sleeping in the lab (if he’s even been sleeping at all) rather than the usual room they shared. It was harder to fall asleep without him there and it was a lot colder as well.

She didn’t want to be a bother to Donnie, but damn, did she miss him. She missed their ‘Good morning’s and their ‘Good night’s, she missed sharing meals together or just being in each other's company, she missed how he’d call her stunning and how she’d get to call him beautiful every day. She missed their hugs and their kisses, she missed their cuddling when it got cold and her dragging him to bed when he was so obviously tired.

Damn, did she miss him. Niyah wondered if that was what Donnie was feeling about Raph— missing everything they did together.

She sighed, pressing her back against the door and sliding to the floor. Sure, it’s only been four days, but it felt like it’d been four years. Donnie was a big part of her daily routine and most of her day involved him. But now that he wasn’t here, her day was suddenly empty. Niyah squeezed her eyes shut at the familiar stinging in her nose. She cried way too easily.

It was a silent cry, something rare for her. Maybe she just didn’t want to be heard or she was embarrassed for crying like this in front of a door that she couldn’t open. She still did that annoying hiccup-gasp-sob-thing that she hated doing. All she could really do was scream internally into a noiseless void where no one else but she could hear.

She tried to tell herself that she was acting like a child. Everyone else was going through something much worse than her and here she was crying on the floor. With that thought, she quickly wiped her tears away.

‘Stop crying, damn it,’ Niyah repeated in her head until her body obeyed. She took some deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself and wiped the already drying tears from her eyes. She just sat there with that extra plate of baked potatoes in her hands, deciding that she might as well eat them so they wouldn’t go to waste (even though she wasn’t hungry).

This was the closest she’d get to eating next to Donnie again, so she enjoyed what little she had. Pressing her back impossibly closer to the door, Niyah pretended (hoped) that Donnie was just on the other side doing the same.

Niyah perked up at the soft shuffling on the other side of the door. It was closer than she had thought. Like earlier, two soft knocks sounded from inside. He wanted to know if she was there. Niyah nearly cried again. She debated whether she’d knock or not (what if she didn’t knock and he’d open the door again?) but she decided to be honest and gave two soft knocks back.

She smiled. At least he was here.

Suddenly the door creaked open— Niyah nearly fell back, but she caught herself last minute.

“Donnie…?” she called, but was once again met with silence. Cautiously, she stood up, leaving the empty plate of potatoes on the floor (for someone so un-hungry, she sure did tear up that plate). She put her fingertips to the door, unsure of whether to enter or not, but she took a deep breath, pushed it open and quickly closed it behind her.

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting. Her eyes surveyed the dark room, spotting messy piles of blueprints and books littered around. A jungle of scrap metal was scattered across the room. She noticed the walls had scratch marks and cracks that definitely weren’t there before. In the corner of the room, she spotted an empty plate of baked potatoes. Well, at least he ate.

Niyah’s eyes landed on a disheveled Donatello who was sitting at his desk. He didn’t acknowledge her but he definitely knew she was there.

“Donnie?” Niyah echoed, taking a few slow steps forward, unsure if she should be close to him or give him space. Donnie blinked tiredly and turned his head to her, his eyes flitting across her face. All the staring was making Niyah a bit flustered.

When he saw her fidgeting, he smiled and signed a slow ‘Hey.’

Niyah smiled widely. He was talking to her (well, signing, but she’ll take what she can get)! “Hey,” she copied and walked closer to sit in the chair next to him. “Are you doing okay?” She asked, subconsciously signing the words she was saying.

His little smile faded. He hesitated, lifting his hands like he was going to sign, but he never did. He only sighed through his nose and placed his hands on the desk again. Niyah stared at him, head tilted and brows drawn together in worry. Instinctively, her hand moved to hover over his. “May I?”

He looked over to her, his gaze flickering between her hand and her eyes. Eventually, he nodded bashfully.

Niyah let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and let her hand rest on top of his. Donnie’s hand was cold, it always was, but not like the harsh cold of winter. It was a refreshing kind of cold and it almost felt nostalgic to Niyah. She let the warmth of her hand seep into his as she watched him relax with a soft sigh. Slowly, he turned over his hand and let her palm touch his. They were calloused and firm, good for holding.

Niyah couldn’t help but feel giddy at the feeling. She was always giddy when it came to Donnie, no matter how long they’d been together. Everything they did felt like it was the first time again, from cuddling to kissing to holding hands. That spark was always there and Niyah admired it. A nervous smile made its way onto her face and the breathy laugh she let out caught Donnie’s attention.

He smiled warmly at her (spirits above, his smile was so beautiful) and moved his hand up her arm, to her shoulder, and finally let it rest on her cheek. Niyah leaned into his touch like she always did. She was so, so happy to see him again.

“I missed you,” she whispered, her eyes falling closed as Donnie cradled her face and let his thumb glide over her cheek softly. He exhaled and brushed a loc behind her ear affectionately as if he was saying ‘I know’.

“Why haven’t you talked to me all this time?” She suddenly asked. She felt Donnie’s fingers twitch anxiously. She opened her eyes to look up at him, a desperate tone in her voice, “Why are you trying to go through this alone?”

Donnie stayed silent, his eyes darting to the floor to avoid her persistent gaze. With a sigh, she whispered, “You’re not the only one who lost Raph, y’know.” This made him flinch and look up again. “We all did. We’re all sad and grieving, Donnie. Of course, not as heavily as you are, but you can’t just— you can’t push everyone away.”

She searched his light brown eyes desperately, feeling the sting in her nose again, but she ignored it. “Mikey and Leo need their brother right now. And I need my…” she trailed off. She had nearly called Donnie her husband even though they weren’t married. But it felt wrong to call him her boyfriend— they were so much more than just that. They practically were married but the title never stood anywhere. Niyah internally shook her head— why did that matter right now?!

“I-I need you too,” she stammered out, not knowing what else to say. Donnie just sat unmoving. Niyah searched his eyes for something— anything! Niyah had become better at reading Donnie’s expressions over the years. It was difficult at first (and sometimes it still is) but she caught onto all his tics and habits that determined his mood. Right now, however, Donnie was blank. He just slowly (and almost reluctantly) let his hand fall from her face. He no longer looked at her. Niyah nearly cried at that.

“Can you please say something? Or sign?” She pleaded but Donnie never responded or even looked her in the eye. She just wanted to help him in any way she could— it was what she was good at! Helping people was her thing! So why couldn’t she do it now? For a moment, she wondered if her being here wasn’t helping at all.

“Donnie,” she sighed, cupping his face with her left hand which made him let out a shaky breath and look up at her. “I’m here. And I’ll always be here when you need me. I love you and I want to help you, so please, just let me.” She pondered for a second and pulled her hand away, “Unless you want me to go?”

A look of alarm flashed in his eyes and he quickly grabbed her hands. “Stay,” he said hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. Niyah’s eyes widened a bit at his voice— hell, even Donnie looked surprised. He sounded like he was in pain, she knew he was, and it hurt seeing him like this. “Please?”

Well, she couldn’t say no to that. “Okay,” she whispered back. Donnie held her hands firmly as if she’d run away if he didn’t hold her tight enough. Swiftly, he pulled her into a hug.

Donnie initiating things like this wasn’t rare but it was uncommon even though they’d been together for years now. Hugging in this position was a bit awkward while they were both sitting down. Donnie acknowledged this and effortlessly picked Niyah up and placed her down on his lap where he could hug her tighter.

Niyah giggled as he nestled into the crook of her neck (he knew that it was ticklish to her). His arms were wrapped around her waist comfortably and he felt like putty in her hold; completely and utterly vulnerable.

She petted his head soothingly, trying her best to comfort him. “You’re okay, Don. You’re gonna be okay,” she muttered to him. He stayed like that for a long time, taking long inhales and quivering exhales. Niyah couldn’t even imagine what he was going through. She’s only known Raph for a few years, but Donnie’s known him all his life. Sure, Niyah has lost family members before, but she was never close to her family like that. She couldn’t even begin to comfort him because she’d never been in a situation like that before.

Niyah then wondered what it’d be like if she had lost her own brother who was safe in her original universe. She wondered if her brother was feeling like how Donnie was feeling, like he had suddenly lost a sibling. God, it’s been years since she last saw her family.

“There’s just… so much going on.” Donnie let out a shaky breath. It sounded like he desperately needed to cry. He held her tightly, refusing to let go as if she’d vanish if he did.

“I know, love, I know.” Niyah continued to snuggle into him. His breathing was heavy and ragged, he sounded strained like he was holding something back. Niyah frowned.

“You can cry if you need to, Donnie. It’s okay.”

And with that, he finally let all his walls down. He sobbed in her hold, hugging her tighter and tighter. It was a little hard to breathe, but that was okay. Niyah’s heart broke at the sound of his sobs. At times like these, she honestly didn’t know what to do.

Donnie doesn’t cry often (at least not in front of her) so when he did cry, it was devastating to her. He was usually a silent crier, just letting tears roll down his face while keeping his expression fairly neutral, so seeing him sob like this hit so much harder. Niyah pressed a small kiss to the side of his head, whispering over and over “It’s okay.”

When Donnie calmed down a bit, Niyah pulled away from the hug, but just enough to see him. She held his face in her hands and finally got a good look at him. His caramel eyes were glossy with tears. With her thumbs, Niyah hooked the bottom of his mask and gently lifted it up and off his face, revealing his beautiful, purple markings and his tired eyes. She wiped under his eyes as if to wipe the dark circles away.

“I miss him.” His eyes flashed with an emotion so deep that even Niyah couldn’t understand what it was. It looked like he was whirling around in a sea of depression and grief so deep that he was drowning in it. His eyes were filled with so much pain, it almost made Niyah cry too.

“I know you do. I miss him too.”

He closed his eyes and sighed as he leaned into her touch. “I… I’m scared,” He mumbled, voice wavering. Niyah’s eyes softened.

“About?”

He hesitantly opened his mouth to speak, “Who’s going to be next? Mikey? Leo? You?” Niyah couldn’t possibly generate a response to that, so he kept going.

“What if I get too close to someone, and— and then they die? What if you…” He trailed off, the tears in his eyes returning but not falling.

“No one lives forever,” She said honestly. “And yeah, someday I will die.” Donnie flinched at her words, but it was the truth.

“But living life is about making connections— memories with people you never thought you’d meet! Would you rather you’d never met Raph, wishing that you got to know him when you had the chance, or would you rather be happy that you got to know him and you have these good memories of him so he could live on in your mind?”

Donnie fell silent, mouth agape as if to say something, but that something never came. He just exhaled loudly and rested his head on her shoulder. “I don’t want anyone else to die,” he muttered in her ear.

Niyah’s hand made laps running from the top of his head to the base of his neck. “I’m afraid you can’t control that, Don,” she whispered back.

“I know I can’t,” he growled, gripping his hands at the bottom of Niyah’s jacket. He let out a breath and his grip relaxed. “I just… I don’t know what I’d do if you died.”

Niyah’s heart sank at that. Her hand paused in her soothing rubs for just a moment, before stuttering and starting up again.

“I won’t,” she said sternly (not realizing how stupid that sounded; she wasn’t immortal).

Donnie all but scoffed, “You can’t possibly promise something like that.”

“Maybe not.” She trailed, “But,” pulling away from Donnie just so he’d look at her again. With one of her hands, she cradled his face. His beautiful brown eyes looked up at her and she had nearly gotten lost in them.

“For as long as I live, I will always be there for you. Every step, every breath. That I can promise.” Her voice was filled with so much confidence and yet it was soft; reassuring.

Donnie seemingly searched her eyes for any sign of deceit but in the end, found nothing but truth. She meant to keep this promise.

He exhaled, letting his expression soften. “Okay,” he mumbled. “Same for me.”

Niyah only smiled, glazing over his features again. “Have you slept at all?” She asked suddenly. Donnie blinked and shook his head, seemingly ashamed. Niyah sighed gently, “Donnie…”

He darted his gaze to the floor and started fidgeting with the hem of her jacket. He looked so drained; so tired.

“Wanna take a nap?” She suggested, making Donnie perk up a bit. Shyly, he nodded again and Niyah smiled. She carefully climbed off him and held out her hand. He took it in an instant and she led him up and out of the lab.

Donnie closed the door behind them before they continued their trek to their room. On the way, Niyah had spotted Draxum walking past. He raised his eyebrows at the sight of Donnie, smiling slightly and Niyah sent him a wide smile back with a small thumbs up.

When they had finally reached their quarters, no one spoke. They didn’t need words anyway.

Niyah set Donnie’s mask down on a small nightstand and put her various other things away while Donnie mindlessly followed her around like a sleepy duckling. She turned to her lover and helped him remove his battle shell (that's been on for god knows how long), exposing his soft shell to the elements.

A small shiver ran up Donnie’s spine in the absence of his armor, but he didn’t feel one bit panicked or anxious. He felt safe. Niyah treated him so softly, she was impossibly gentle with him and it was so… different. Living with 3 other brothers, gentle was almost nowhere in their vocabulary. Donnie didn’t like the idea of being treated like glass, but Niyah never made him feel like that. She made him feel like he was precious, not fragile; knowing his strength but still taking the time to treat him softly. This was something new and sure it’s been years now but it still amazed him.

God, he loves her.

“I love you,” he whispered as she put his mechanical shell away to the side. She nearly flinched at how random it was, but she smiled all the same.

“I love you too.”

And with that, they both settled into bed (it was much warmer with Donnie here even if he was cold-blooded) and Donnie nestled in the base of her neck. Niyah traced gentle patterns of stars and hearts on his shell, letting him relax into sleep. She whispered sweet nothings to him, kissing his forehead and listening to his soft churring. He was out like a light.

Niyah pulled him closer once she heard his calm breathing and small snores. She felt so protective over him seeing him like this. She wanted nothing more than for him to be okay because he deserved to feel safe and happy. Niyah swore she was going to do everything in her power to make sure he was okay.

That was her promise.

Matching Donnie’s breathing pattern with her own, Niyah was soon washed over with a wave of fatigue. Finally, she closed her eyes and succumbed to sleep.

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WOOOO YAYAYYA I FINALLY FINISHED THIS WUAGHDSAJL oh my goodness. This was a nice little hurt/comfort fic to write :] I hoped yall enjoyed this! Don’t be a silent reader! I love comments so much it makes me so happy ^^ Love you all!! Have a great day <3 🍋

Big thanks to my beta readers @yourlocalartsonist @yosajaeofficial and @oleander-nin !!! 💛💕💛💕💛💕

✦ Master List

[swanimagines]

Star Wars: Imagine Rey coming to save you after Kylo Ren kidnaps you.

requested by anon

Echoes of footsteps pierced through your dream as you slowly came back from your unconsciousness. You groaned at the pounding headache, trying to grasp your head, but something prevented you from moving your arms, and your eyes shot open.

No.

You were in a room full of consoles, you could hear Stormtroopers talking, you were tied in this chair - and then you remembered the battle.

You had just knocked out a stormtrooper who had snuck up behind Rey, and you had smiled at her as she spun around.

“You’re welcome,” you had told her, and she had smiled back before her smile suddenly disappeared and before you could react, you felt a hard impact and everything had become black.

You had been kidnapped. That much was certain now. It had been only a matter of time really - your reputation in the Rebellion had spread wide, you had led countless successful rescue missions, you had destroyed multiple Imperial stations and bases… you were Leia’s go-to soldier if there was a particularly dangerous mission coming up, because she knew you could pull it off.

So when you heard the door hissing as it opened, you could already guess who it was, despite him being behind you. “Kylo Ren.”

He was quiet for a moment, before he took a few steps towards your chair. You refused to look at him, but you saw a piece of his cape from the corner of your eye.

“I apologize for the discomfort,” he said, mockingly pretending empathy. “You will get something to drink soon.”

You scoffed. “You should know better than not realize that I won’t drink anything you give me.”

Kylo sighed, stepping in front of you. “It would be easier if you would cooperate with me. Maybe we could even come up with a peaceful solution for this… situation.”

"I won't give my friends up," you spat at him. "Especially not to a man who tries to be a copy of Darth Vader while not being even half as terrifying as he was."

He took a few steps to the side, circling you like a predator. "You're protecting your 'friends', who aren't coming to save you. How noble."

“Sounds like true loyalty is a foreign term for you.”

“Hm.”

You both were quiet for a moment, before Kylo pulled out a tablet from one of the console trays.

“We’ve been tracking your camp location since the battle, and we have found it. If you tell us information about where to find Crendrund’s Library, we can spare some of your friends.”

You stared at him. Crendrund’s Library. They knew you had found it? Numerous artifacts hidden away, a vast amount of knowledge you would use for your advantage in your war against the Empire. All that in the heart of Zephyrus Nebula, on that little ocean planet with a lone island.

But somehow you still managed to keep a straight face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He was quiet, and you saw his fist clenching. You felt crooked satisfaction from seeing that - he was already growing frustrated. Him being frustrated spoke of him not being sure if you were the right person to kidnap. You may not know anything useful after all - and if he made a mistake, his Master wouldn’t be happy.

He straightened up, putting the tablet back into the console. “You have until tomorrow morning to change your mind. And if you haven’t… well, you will have to endure so much pain that you won’t leave this ship sane.”

Then, he left, the door hissing open. You felt his eyes on you one last time, and then you were alone again once the door shut. You closed your eyes for a moment, letting out a breath.

There was no way you could escape. There was nothing near you that you could use. There was nothing in the room at all in fact, unless something was behind you.

You didn’t want to die, nor lose your sanity, but for your friends, for the cause - you would do anything. Even if the torture would last for days, weeks. You would never give your friends up.

Kylo would also try to get inside your mind, maybe after torturing you. But you were determined, practiced with it since you were a child, since your parents first brought you to the rebellion base. Everyone thought a small child like you didn’t belong there at first, but quickly changed their minds when they saw how gifted you were, how quickly you learned to defend yourself, and how smart you were in tricking people. And all that had paid off when you were sent on your first mission.

Everything was ending at some point, you had always told yourself. And your ending would come in hands of Kylo Ren, but he’d torture you in vain. He’d have to crawl to his master and tell him that he has failed. You’d get to humiliate him as the last thing you did.

Then, the door hissed again and you sighed, his Master had likely ushered him back like a dog.

But then, you heard Rey’s voice whispering your name, and your heart jumped - you definitely hadn’t expected her to come, especially not so soon.

“Rey?” you whispered back, and she came to stand in front of you, looking over your restraints. “What are you doing here? How did you get here so fast?”

She frowned. “Fast? It’s been over a week since you were taken.”

You huffed. Of course. They had been probing your mind while keeping you in a Force-induced coma, and suddenly the fact that they knew that bit of Crendrund’s Library made sense. But even when you were unconscious, your mind didn’t let them dig deeper than that - which made it seem like you knew that it had been found, but you didn’t know anything beyond that. But Kylo’s Master surely guessed you wouldn’t be left outside such information, and that’s why Kylo had tried to make you tell more, scare you by threatening your friends.

“They know we’re planning to find Crendrund,” you whispered to Rey as she worked on prying open your restraints. “Ren threatened to attack our base if I didn't tell him where to find it.”

“What?” Rey gasped, and you shook your head.

“I didn’t tell them anything and I don’t believe they actually found our base, but I just… they know.”

Rey was quiet for a moment as she worked on your ankles, and then helped you up, hugging you. “We were all scared of losing you.”

You nodded and glanced towards the door. “Let’s get out of here.”

---

This is an open ending. Any continuation parts are not being planned as for now. I may write one someday, but not promising anything. It might take even years before any kind of continuation would come out, as Star Wars isn't my main fandom and I write for it just for practice and variety really, so I wouldn't get bored with my main fandoms. Making this note just so it would lessen people demanding me to write a part 2/expecting me to write a part 2. I'll do it if I feel like it, it may happen this year or in 2030 or beyond that.

Requests are open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[aaronhotchswife]

BABYSITTING AT HOTCH'S

A/N : This one shot is settled in season 7 (because even if every seasons Hotch does something to me, this one is🧎🏻‍♀️) and even if I absolutely ADORE Beth, for the purpose of the story she's not in a relationship with Aaron 🫶🏼

TW : smut, dom Hotch/sub reader, chocking, a nal fingering, unprotected sex (pls be careful)

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"No, it's alright. I'll find someone. Yes, thank you. Have a good evening too."

Aaron hung up the phone, sighing.

"Everything ok Hotch ?" you asked, as you enter his office.

"Ah yes. I have a meeting for budget tonight and Jess can't babysit Jack so I need to find someone. Don't worry about that. What's going on ?"

"I have these files for you." you responded, hanging him the files. "You know, if it could help you, I can watch Jack tonight."

"I can't let you do that. It's Friday night, you probably have plans."

"C'mon Hotch. You know how Jack and I like each other. And even if I am a woman in my 20s, everything Friday nights I just want to go home and watch Netflix, especially with the weeks we have." you laughed slightly.

"I get that." he chuckled. "Are you sure ? I mean, I would like that but I don't want you to feel obligated."

"I would be happy to help." you said to him, a soft smile on your lips.

"It's settled then. Do you think you could go pick him up at school ? I'll call them to let him know."

"No problem, sir."

You knew Jack since a couple years now. He always liked you and everytime he went to the BAU he was always happy to draw at your desk and your drawer was filled with his masterpieces. It was nice to hang out with him, talking about his school drama and honestly spending a friday night with a kid was in your opinion, a lot better than spending it with Tinder dates. So spending your Friday night with him wasn't a chore at all.

-------

"Hey Jack! You know that your Dad's triathlon is soon right ? What would you think if we make him signs ?" you told Jack, while he was washing his hands.

"Oh yes!!! It's such a good idea !"

"Great! Where do you guys keep the crafting stuff?"

Jack took your hand and showed you a drawer in his bedroom with colored pencils and glitters and all. You took all that you guys going to need and walked downstairs to the kitchen. You spend most of the night helping Jack creating his banner, only stopping to cook dinner. He helped you cleaning the kitchen before taking his bath and asking you for a bedtime story.

"And they lived happily ever after." you read softly, before closing the book.

Jack was peacefully sleeping, still holding onto your arm. You left a sweet kiss of his forehead, wishing him good night before going downstairs to wait for Hotch.

-------

When Aaron came home later that night, he walked to the living room where he found you asleep on the couch, a blanket draped to your body, hair in your face, Before he could stop himself, his eyes trailed the expanse of skin that you’d left exposed. He never realized how beautiful you look, especially in that dimed light, so peacefully sleeping. He tried to do as little noise as possible as he walked towards you, replacing your hair behind your ear. He decided to go look on Jack, telling himself he'll wake you up after. He was sleeping serenely, his Star Wars night light illuminating the room. He wished him a good night buddy before closing the door. When Aaron saw you again, you were in the same position, breathing evenly. He tried whispering your name but nothing could make you move. Not knowing what got into him, he took you bridal style in his arms, carefully, for you to not wake up and he walked towards to guest bedroom, where you'll be a lot more comfortable. He didn't want to wake you up, sleep was important especially with your job and you look so peaceful that waking you up was not a option. In the guest bedroom, he tucked you in, hesitating before leaving a light kiss on your forehead and wished you good night, before closing the door. He suprised himself with a feeling in his stomach from the way you were laid in one of his bed, beautifully sleeping.

You woke up the next morning in a room you didn't know. With the smell of the bed sheets, you realize you probably fell asleep at Hotch's house but the fact the you're in a bed is something you can't remember. You got up, streching your arms and yawning before going downstairs to the kitchen. You see Jack watching cartoons and Aaron in the kitchen, making coffee.

"Good morning." you said, shyly.

"Hey, good morning. I'm sorry, you fell asleep on the couch and I didn't want to wake you up, so I put you in the bed instead. For you to be more comfortable you know...Hope it was ok." he responded timidly.

"Oh. Yeah, yeah. Sorry I didn't want to fell asleep. Rough week." you chuckled, a bit suprised by his answer. "How was your meeting ?"

"Well, you know how the superiors are." he said, smiling softly. "Want coffee?"

"Yes please, that would be great."

"There you go." he grins, handing you a cup of coffee. You smiled, taking your first sip. "So Jack wants pancake for breakfast, do you want to eat with us ? I mean it's Saturday, we don't have work to do...yet." he tells you.

You were a bit taken aback by his proposition. Not that you didn't want to eat with them but eating breakfast at your boss's house seemed like a weird idea. But it was Saturday and pancakes couldn't hurt and you kinda wanted to spend more time with him.

The three of you sat at the table, Jack speaking about what he wanted to do today. The weather wasn't really on your side, rain falling hard outside. It was a bit too domestic for you to be sitting at the table with your hot boss and his child. But you didn't know that Aaron felt the same. You seemed to noticed that he looked more relaxed when Jack is there, his usual frown on his face not visible, making jokes and being all paternal. It was weird seeing him like that. Of course you see Jack often but it's always at work so you never had the chance to see him really being a father.

"Dad, can we watch a movie today ?" Jack asked, his mouth full of pancakes.

"Of course buddy, what would you wanna watch?"

"Mmmh, The Little Mermaid ! Can Y/N watch it with us dad ?"

You almost chocked on your sip when you heard Jack asking that. Hotch seemed clearly taken aback with his demand as you.

"Well, if she wants, I mean, do you want to ?" Hotch asks, looking at you.

"Well, The Little Mermaid was one of my favourite movie when I was younger so why not. As long as I'm not interrupting."

"It was ?!" Jack asked, amazed. "Dad looks like Prince Eric don't you think?"

"Hahaha, yeah I can see it." you responded, looking at Aaron, his cheeks getting red.

After breakfast you help Hotch cleaning the kitchen while Jack was playing Lego, waiting for the two of you to be ready for the movie. The thunder outside made the ambiance cozy as you sat on the sofa. Aaron joined, sitting next to Jack who was happy to cuddle his father.

Even if you loved The Little Mermaid and knew the movie by heart, watching movies during the day wasn't really doing it for you. Especially after eating, the chances of you falling asleep were high. Hotch seemed to notice that as you fell asleep right on his shoulder. He didn't dare to move, you looking too cute your head on his shoulder.

"Y/N." Aaron murmured, shaking you a little. "The movie's over."

"Aaron." you said, sleepily.

The use of his first name was unusual for you. Always calling him Hotch or sir or boss, but never Aaron. The feeling he had in his stomach the night before was back and he couldn't push it away.

"Where's Jack?"

"JJ's house. Henri called for a playdate." Hotch answered, his eyes in yours.

He couldn't help but look at you, all shy on his sofa. Your cheeks getting red, your eyes in his and slowly looking down to his lips. You always knew he was beautiful, always looking at him at work, at his features. But you never knew he looked that beautiful, dressing normally, in his living room, so close one another. Before you knew it, your lips were on his, tasting the sweet taste of pancakes and the dry taste of his coffee. The kiss was soft, rather inquisitive, both of your lips learning each others. When you both back off to take a breath, you gazed up at him, flustered, a small shy smile on your lips.

"You are so pretty." Aaron murmured, his forehead on yours.

"So are you." you said chuckling a little.

He chuckled slightly, not believing he was kissing you, leaving a couple of kisses on your forehead, down to your jaw before going back to your mouth. The kiss was more heated and his hands quickly found their way to your hips, pressing them slightly. This action made a moan come out your mouth and Aaron couldn't help himself from bitting your lower lips.

"Come here." he murmured, pointing his lap.

You did as asked, grinding yourself on him, feeling him getting hard. His mouth moved to your neck, nibbling on your sweet spot near your ear.

"Want to continue this in the bedroom ? I mean, if you want of course." he asked, his lips on your ear.

You follow him in his bedroom, anticipating what's going to happen. Hotch pushed you gently on the bed before hovering you, his lips on your jaw and his hands on your hips. Grinding himself a little on you, he moved his mouth to your collarbone, sucking on your skin. Your hands found their way on his back, tucking on his shirt to take it off.

"Do you really want to do this?" he asked, his eyes in yours.

"I do. Please."

"How do you wanna do it ?"

"I want you to do everything you want to me Aaron."

His hand went between your legs, grabbing the place where you wanted him the most. You could feel yourself being wet, cyprine making it's way to your thighs. He helped you take off his shirt and yours, his eyes going down on your breast covered in your lace emerald bra. Your chest was raising up and down, your hands cupping his face. Aaron kept his eyes in yours before kissing down your chest, unclipping your bra, moving his lips to the hem of your jeans. He looked at you, as if he was asking for permission. You nodded slightly, wanting him to put his mouth down there already.

"Words baby."

"Yes please Aaron."

He took off your pants, kissing your stomach before kissing down your thighs, pushing them apart slowly. He left a kiss on your panties, your respiration becoming more and more rapid. He pulled your panties aside, licking a long strip from your folds. You moaned, hands gripping his hair. He then placed his lips against your folds, nibbling against your clit. He pushed one finger in, then two, your hips rocking against his mouth, wanting more. Sucking your clit, he lifted your legs on his shoulders, weighting your torso down on the bed with one hand on your lower stomach. Your moans were becoming more and more loud and you knew you would be cumming soon. Aaron knew it too because his mouth left your core to leave small kisses near your hips.

"On your knees." he ordered.

You did as asked, unzipping his pants before taking off his boxers. You told yourself he was big but not that big. You gasp in suprise, making Aaron chuckled.

"What's going on sweetheart ? Too big for you ? You're gonna open your mouth and make it fit like a good girl."

You nodded, approaching your lips to his member but he stopped yourself, tucking of your hair.

"When I speak I want an answer. Are you gonna suck my dick like a good girl?"

"Yes."

"Yes who?" he asked, his hands putting your hair in a make shift ponytail.

"Yes sir."

You kissed his balls, moving your lips to his member, keeping eye contact with him. You sucked on his head before taking him all in your mouth, his head going deep into your throat making you gag. He pushed your head slightly, making back and forth movements. Salive coming out your mouth, your mascara running down your cheeks.

"Fuck. You look so pretty on your knees for me. I'm gonna cum and you're gonna swallow everything alright ?"

You took his dick out of your mouth to answer him, crying a yes sir before taking him back in your mouth. His respiration was twitching and you could hear him groaned, his cock twitching in your mouth. A hot substance making it's way down your throat. You stuck your tongue out to proved to him that you swallowed everything.

"Go on the bed, on your hands and knees."

Positioning yourself on all four, you almost screamed when his hand slapped your ass, hearing Aaron chuckled at your reaction. His fingers runned down your pussy, his mouth finding it's way between your folds again. You couldn't help but moaned, the sensation being too good.

"I want to put my mouth and my fingers everywhere, in all your holes. Would you be okay with that?" he asked, fingers in your pussy.

"Yes sir."

Without you saying more, he put his tongue on your asshole, licking it.

"Gonna make it nice and ready for my thumb, right sweetheart ?"

You couldn't talk, only responding by a moan. The feeling of his tongue down there was so good, better than anything you had before. You felt his thumb running near your asshole before entering you. You couldn't help but make a muffled pleasure scream, rocking your ass on his finger. His thumb in your ass and his tongue in your pussy was a combination you could only dreamed about.

"Mmmh, you taste so good, like I imagined it."

This did it for you, hearing him say he imagined doing these things to you. Before you knew it, you came on in mouth and fingers.

"Oh my baby made a mess. She will help cleaning that right ?" he said, his fingers on your lips making you open your mouth to suck on his fingers. He kissed you, his tongue fighting for dominance. His lips moved to your ear, murmuring sweet things to you.

"I'll fuck you good baby, and you're gonna take all of me in you. I'll fuck you until you become a mess in your boss's bed."

His hands reached your ass, spreading your thighs slightly before pushing himself in you. He was so big and you let out a cry. His fingers brushed your hair, letting you time to adjust yourself to his size. He kissed your ear, before thrusting slowly.

"Is this alright love ? I'm not too rough on you ?" he murmured in your ear.

The way he was dominating but at the same thing caring for you to feel safe was something that could create butterflies in your stomach.

"It's good Aaron. You make me feel so good, I promise."

You heard his chuckled slighty, still thrusting slowly into you.

"Harder."

"Beg for it."

"Please sir, I need you to fuck me harder please."

He didn't need more than that for him to thrust harder, his balls punching against your pussy. Both of your were moaning and your moans became louder when his fingers found their way to your clit, pinching it. His thrust were becoming sloppier each time and the familiar knot in your stomach was back.

"I'm gonna fill you up." you heard him say, one of his hand grabbing your throat, squeezing it softly. His other hand grabbed your nipple, pinching it. Your fingers found their way to your clit, finishing the job he first started. A few moments later, you felt the hot substance in your core, cumming at the same time.

Aaron fell next to you, his hand tracing little circles on your shoulders.

"Thank you for that." you looked up to him, shyly.

The confidence you had during your sexy moment was now gone and you couldn't help but feel shy, even if he just fucked the hell out of you.

"I've been dreaming of doing that for a long time." he smiled, his fingers brushing your hair behing your ear.

"What does that mean for us ?"

"What do you mean?" he frowned.

"Well at work...and in real life."

"Well, at work we could sign some papers but for starters what would you say if I asked you out on a date first ?"

You blushed, kissing his nose before agreeing.

"But first I want another round, soft this time." you murmured.

[snipsnipsnippy]

Since literally no one asked, here’s my Korkie Kenobi theory.

So we all know the lines “I’ve loved you from the moment you came to my aid all those years ago” and “Had you said the word, I would have left the Jedi Order.” But why? Why didn’t you give the word if you have always loved him? And this is how I know Satine was down bad for him, because she knew he wouldn’t be happy outside of the Jedi. Like Obi-Wan is one of the very few Jedi we know who fully and wholeheartedly believed in the Order. That’s his whole identity is that he is the most Jedi of Jedi around him. And to Satine’s own credit, her whole identity is a mandalorian, not just any mandalorian, the leader of the Mandalorians. Her priorities are to her people and to her creed, who certainly wouldn’t be all that fond of any Jedi she did bring home. So especially when she’s trying to repair a broken people, but even without that, I don’t think Satine could ever bring her jeti home.

So what happens when she finds out she’s pregnant? Well, as someone who thinks a lot about Star Wars birth control (s/o Queen’s Peril for making me obsessed with this niche topic in particular), I’m pretty sure between period blockers working then wearing off and the stress and malnutrition of this year on the run, it’s very easy to develop an irregular cycle and then to dismiss a missed period if that even triggers in her mind anyway. So in my mind, Satine didn’t know she was pregnant until the Jedi were long gone, until she started getting regular medical attention and getting back to her old self.

And, the biggest opposition I see to the Korkie Kenobi theory, aside from the flat out deniers who want nothing to do with secret children, is that Obi-Wan would never abandon a child that he fathered, and I agree. But here’s the thing, Satine wouldn’t tell him. Why? Because she let Obi-Wan walk away to be the Jedi he was meant to be and for her to be the leader her people needed. How could she jeopardize all of that? Satine had no obligation to anyone but Korkie, aside from her own selfish reasons for potentially telling Obi, because mandalorian ideas of family have nothing to do with blood relation. He’s not the father unless he sticks around to raise the child, so there’s really no guilt around not labeling him a parent. But she needs a story to hide this jettise child from the Mandalorians, hence calling him her “nephew” instead of “son”. It’s easy enough to say a distant relative of the clan died in a war that touched every mandalorian. So baby ginger mandalorian Korkie stayed her “nephew” as a lie to her people and so Obi-Wan never would have heard of him.