#i love that i can concentrate on the task at hand without being interrupted

[yellowsubiesdance]

i need to shower so i can wake up at ass o’clock again tomorrow and do this shit all over again

[nahoney22]

hi so I really love the way you write tech and was wondering if you could write some light angst and fluff with him and female reader for your 4,500 followers (congrats!) I was thinking maybe reader is really missing home and has a small radio type thing that she uses to contact them but one day it breaks. she asks tech to fix it but doesn’t really care too as he’s busy which silently upsets her more. maybe Hunter prompts him too since tech actually has a crush on her… or whatever you think flows best 🤭 but please can I have it so reader kisses him as a thanks? Thanks if you do this! Have a wonderful day 💚

possible prompt if you want to:

17: “I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

Thanks okay bye! 😊

Touch of Gold 🌊

🫧 Pairings: Tech X Female!Reader

word count: 1.4k

prompts:

• “I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

As the request asks 😌

warnings: Safe for work, fluff, light angst with reader missing home, mutual pining, friends to lovers, Hunter being supportive and a bro, first kiss, tech not reading emotions too well, accidental kiss

authors note: happy tech Tuesday! Enjoy @powertechmove 🩵

The steady hum of the ship’s engines was a familiar sound, one you’d grown accustomed to over countless missions with the squad. But today, it only seemed to amplify the hollow ache inside you. Sitting alone on your bunk, you clutched the small, battered radio in your hands—the last tangible connection to your family, to home. When it had stopped working days ago, it felt as though your whole world had shattered.

You’d tried everything you could think of to fix it, but your skills were no match for the intricate workings of the device. But there was someone who you think could help.

Tech, with his quick mind and adept hands, could likely repair it in an instant. He could fix almost anything, and that was one of the many things you admire about him. And admittedly also one of the many reasons you found him attractive, too.

But even knowing that, you hesitated to approach him. He was always busy, always absorbed in his work and the upkeep of the Marauder. You didn’t want to burden him with something that, in the grand scheme of things, might seem trivial.

Yet, as the days dragged on and the weight of homesickness pressed down harder, you could no longer bear it. Summoning your courage, you found him in the cockpit, tinkering with some equipment. His brow was furrowed in concentration as he adjusted his goggles, completely absorbed in his task. Even in deep concentration he looked so cute. Pushing the thoughts away, you approached

“Tech,” you began softly, not wanting to interrupt too abruptly.

He looked up immediately at the sound of your voice, his gaze sharp and attentive. “Yes? How can I assist you?”

You hesitated, holding out the broken radio. “My radio… it stopped working. I’ve tried to fix it, but I think it’s beyond me. Could you… maybe take a look?”

Tech took the device, his fingers gliding over its worn edges as he examined it. After a few moments, he sighed and shook his head slightly. “The internal components are severely outdated and damaged. Without the proper parts, I don’t believe I can restore it to working order.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, extinguishing the small flicker of hope you’d been clinging to. You tried to mask your disappointment, but your shoulders slumped involuntarily.

“I see,” you murmured, forcing a weak smile. “Thanks for looking, anyway.”

Tech nodded, already turning back to his project. “I need to return to more pressing matters.”

You bit your tongue, trying not to take his words too personally. He likely didn’t mean to sound so… dismissive. But as you walked away, the sense of isolation grew heavier. Without that radio, the distance between you and your loved ones felt even more insurmountable.

On your way out, you passed Hunter, who immediately noticed the change in your demeanor. He’d sensed your growing homesickness for the last few days. Naturally, he wanted to help. He wasn’t going to bring it up to you, but he had seen the way you looked at Tech thinking nobody was looking, how you lingered just a tad around him. He wasn’t going to do it just for your sake, however, but for Tech’s as well.

He made his way to the cockpit, where Tech was still engrossed in his work. “Tech, got a minute?” Hunter asked, his voice casual but with an underlying seriousness.

Tech glanced up, his focus shifting to the Sergeant. “What do you need?”

Hunter leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. “I want to talk about her,” he said, nodding in the direction you’d gone. He watched as Tech’s expression remained neutral, though he caught a slight tension in his posture. “Is she alright?”

“She seems well enough,” Tech replied, pushing up his goggles slightly. “Though her radio is broken.”

“And?” Hunter prompted.

“Unfortunately, it’s beyond repair without the necessary components, which I don’t have on hand.”

Hunter nodded slowly. “I get that it’s not an easy fix. But she’s been down lately, and that radio was her connection to home. Fixing it would mean more to her than you might realise we.”

Tech paused, considering Hunter’s words. “I understand the emotional significance, but I must reiterate that the repair is not simple. Besides, I’m occupied with other tasks.”

Hunter studied Tech for a moment longer, knowing how his mind worked—analytical, logical, always focused on efficiency. But Hunter also knew something else, something Tech might not fully grasp about himself. “Look, Tech, I’ve seen how you look at her. You care about her, even if you don’t always show it.”

Tech’s eyes widened slightly, and he straightened, clearly taken aback. “I assure you, my concern is purely professional—”

“Sure,” Hunter interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. “But maybe this is your chance to show her you’re there for her. You might not be able to say it outright, but fixing that radio would mean the world to her. And it might just help you both cross that bridge.”

Tech fell silent, processing Hunter’s words. The idea of showing his care through action, rather than words, resonated with him. After all, he’d always been more comfortable expressing himself through his skills than through direct emotional communication.

“I understand,” Tech finally said, his voice thoughtful. “I’ll… reconsider the matter.”

Hunter nodded, satisfied. “That’s all I’m asking.”

The next day, Tech found you outside the ship, sitting on a crate and staring up at the stars. The vastness of space had always reminded you of how far you were from home, and today was no different. You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice Tech until he was right beside you.

He called your name softly, causing you to startle. You quickly wiped at your eyes, hoping to hide the tears that had welled up.

“Oh, Tech,” you stammered, trying to compose yourself. “I didn’t hear you.”

Without a word, he held out the small radio, and your breath caught in your throat. “I managed to repair your radio,” he said, his voice calm and steady. “I was able to source the necessary components from some older equipment we had in storage.”

You stared at the radio, hardly believing it. “You… you fixed it?”

“Yes,” Tech confirmed, his gaze holding yours as he noticed the tear stains on your cheeks. “It should function properly now.”

Tears pricked at your eyes again, but this time from gratitude rather than sadness. You took the radio from him, your fingers brushing against his as you did. “Thank you, Tech. I don’t even know what to say. I’m always blown away by just how talented you are.”

A faint warmth danced across Tech’s cheeks, though his expression remained composed. “It was the least I could do,” he replied, his voice a bit softer than usual.

“I don’t know how to thank you.”

“There’s no need. The repair was quite fascinating, actually…” he began to explain, launching into the technical details of the repair. But you could only watch him, a sense of awe and affection growing as you listened.

Overwhelmed by emotion, you leaned in to kiss his cheek, wanting to show him just how much this meant to you. But as you did, Tech, likely calculating the movement or perhaps just reacting instinctively, turned slightly into you, and your lips ended up brushing against his.

Both of you froze, eyes wide in surprise. Tech blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. But before he could say anything, you quickly pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” he began, his tone hurried. “That wasn’t my intent—”

But you silenced him by gently placing your hand on his cheek, guiding him back toward you. No words were needed, and you leaned in, kissing him again, this time with intent and certainty.

The kiss was soft and tentative at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But then, as if some unseen barrier had finally been crossed, it deepened, filled with the unspoken feelings that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long. His hands rest nervously on your hips, suppressing a quiet moan in his throat as you tilt your head just a touch, your lips dancing together beautifully.

When you finally parted, both of you were a little breathless, a little flustered. Tech’s usually composed demeanor was slightly shaken, his eyes searching yours as if trying to find the right words.

“You don’t need to apologise,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips. “I’m glad it happened.”

Tech’s expression softened, and for once, he didn’t overthink. He simply nodded, understanding what you meant without needing to analyse it. “So am I.”

Tags: @lulalovez @the-bad-batch-baroness @photogirl894

@whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi

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[ofallthingsnasty]

pairing: sanji x f!reader tags: crack treated seriously, sanji being sanji, dental student!reader but written from sanji's pov so no medical knowledge needed, fat reader (especially in the belly and tits), suggestive, minors dni, law starring as the resident cockblock word count: 1.8k note: weeks ago I talked about how I parked my tits on the forehead of my patient while doing my first frontal filling years back and immediately got the worst possible idea for a little fic. dedicated to that very same young man. I'm still so sorry dude you were a real one 😶

Sanji feels like his pants are going to explode any moment now. When he got up this morning, he hadn’t expected to have the fingers of a woman down his throat - feeling, massaging and palpating. Admittedly, you’re a little rough with him because you’re untrained but that slight tickle of his gag reflex your fingers evoke is hotter than he thought it could be. He has half a mind not to chase them with his tongue, not wanting to scare you off.

Of course, your intentions are innocent. You’re trying to see something that is entirely beyond his scope but hey, he isn’t the professional here. (Or on the road to be a professional, considering that you’re still a student.) The last time he went to the dentist it had certainly been different - curt, clinical and without much frou-frou - but whatever it is they’re teaching the students nowadays, he finds himself very much agreeing to it. Maybe a bit too much, he thinks and tries to fight the half-chub with thoughts of his old man. 

It’s hard, pun intended. You are a dream in starched white directly in front of him, round face scrunched up in concentration. Clearly, you’re taking your task very seriously but that doesn’t help him much with staying composed when you’re clumsily whipping his head around by his teeth, the touch demanding and a little careless. You don’t seem to be the bossy type but there is something about sitting beneath a beam of cold, white light while getting thoroughly inspected by a soft-cheeked, lovely woman that makes his face traitorously warm. “Alright”, you say and pull your fingers out of his mouth, white nitrile shiny with his spit, your skin peeking through the stretched material.

He briefly wonders how they’d feel wrapped around his-

Shit.

“Mucosa looks healthy, gingiva is inflamed, though”, you say to your assisting student, as you turn away from him again - some skinny dude with a severe expression and a goatee. “Can you write that down?”

The guy just nods behind a paper file and Sanji can see it shake with the pressure of a pen against printed-on lines. There is a name tag clipped to his chest but Sanji is ignoring it on purpose. He doesn’t like him at all - he had given the blond nothing but filthy looks after Sanji had offered you his first name upon introduction, and even interrupted him when he was only trying to make (perfectly harmless) small talk. Something about time being of essence but Sanji is just not buying that.

Asshole.

They had battled it out via eye contact when Sanji had to gurgle that god-awful mouthwash for a solid minute and the only thing he won in those sixty seconds was the knowledge that Goatee has terrible manners.

Just his luck, he figures. The one chance he has to be meticulously pampered by a pair of cute dental students has to be ruined by some pierced killjoy. This situation could only have been worse if (by some miracle) Zoro turned out to be your assistance. But fortunately that man knows as much about teeth as he does about navigation: fuck all.

It had been Nami who had recommended the student program to him when he noticed a pesky, dark spot right between his incisors - and while she was intent on saving him money, he was more taken by the thought of being put into the care of aspiring dentists like you. Sanji had been sold. And he had been even more thrilled when he got that first call from you, your voice promising nothing but prowess, delicate hands in his mouth and a sweet face to stare at. (Okay, maybe your hands aren't so delicate after all - but one smile from behind your mask and all is forgiven.)

Too bad your sweet glory comes with a lanky, pierced guard dog. 

“Have you had any injections in the past?”, you ask and pull him out of his reverie, a syringe already in your dominant hand. “Ever had any troubles with them?”

He shakes his head no and tries to keep his breathing even when you duck down to him, hunched over as you push his upper lip towards his nose in one swift notion. “This is gonna sting a little. And you might feel a little pressure.” Indeed, it does - but it’s so miniscule that he can barely call it a pinch. Your concern for him is incredibly cute, though. Your hand is a little shaky as you press the liquid out of the needle but aside from the feeling of liquid pooling underneath sturdy skin, he feels nothing. He watches as you furrow your brow and let out a sigh of relief when the syringe is empty. You’re clearly nervous and he wants it to be because of him so, so badly but unfortunately, he knows better.

“It’ll be over soon, you’re doing so well”, you say after putting the needle away and take his upper lip between your index finger and thumb and slot the digit right into the fold that his mucosa forms, gently pulling and rubbing at the same time. “Just a little longer, can you do that for me?” Oh, he’d do much more than this for you, he thinks but the only thing that comes out of him is a weak gurgle.

Goatee scoffs next to him. 

“I think you didn't inject enough. You might want to re-apply some.”

“No, I gave him almost two milliliters, that should be enough”, you say and he can tell you’re pouting underneath the mask. Sanji swears the other man grins for a split second. “Bummer.”

“Alright, we’ll just do some prep while the anesthetic kicks in, okay?”, you ask and don’t even wait for an answer. He watches you while you flit around the tiny space, gathering things on the little tray that hovers above him, nods and smiles when you do your best to apply a clunky dental dam and lets you move the chair into the right position. When you’re done, the world is almost upside down, with his head tilted and you right in the center of it all, trying to adjust the light above you.

“Any moment this gets uncomfortable, you tell me immediately, alright?”, you say far above him and he’s grateful that Goatee is doing a great job at using that little saliva tube because he’d be drooling otherwise. 

Framed by a pair of thighs, your warmth just at the tip of his head, your breasts almost a shelf between him and your face. This is how he wants to die, he thinks. Just a whole lot of soft woman surrounding him. But it’s only just about to get better.

You take the drill into your hands and inch closer until he feels something solid, yet soft touching him. He realizes that it’s your belly at the same time your assistance does, because as his eyes go dinner-plate-wide, Goatee hisses your name through clenched teeth. “Posture.” Never has Sanji hated another man more than him in this very moment. “Oh, thanks”, you beam, so genuine it makes him want to cry. Unfair. Life is entirely unfair. He wallows in self-pity while you let the bur whir. It’s astounding that he really doesn’t feel anything but the pressure and the low vibration that makes his bones swing, too bad it’s exponentially less wonderful when he could have marveled at the feeling and that warm softness touching him. “You know”, you start the moment the instrument buries itself into his enamel, talking as if you’re both contemplating life over some wine. “Your gums are really inflamed. I can tell that you smoke a lot.” Not able to really answer because of the thin sheet of latex over his mouth, he simply hums in confirmation. He can tell that it bothers you - adorable, you’re worried for his health - because you had been downright shocked while going through a questionnaire with him earlier, shooting Goatee looks that only could be described as Are you hearing what I’m hearing? when he confessed to smoking a pack a day.

Well, old habits die hard. “You should really consider quitting or at least cutting down-”, you start and continue to list all the terrible consequences his nicotine addiction might bring, all the while you’re swinging around that little diamond bur like it’s a pen. And, still unable to answer, he hums. If he was able to, he’d probably tell you that he’d do anything for you as long as you let him live between your tits, preferably until the day he draws his last breath. Fuck. It’s definitely the wrong line of thought, especially because they’re so close in this position. He swears he can see the color of your bra peek through your scrubs - he’d almost be giving in to the next little daydream if it weren’t for the fact that you seem to hunch over ever so slightly while you work. Too lost in your thoughts, you seem to have forgotten about the warning you received earlier and let your body curl into itself to get a better view at his tooth. Closer, just a little closer, he thinks, almost going cross-eyed as you concentrate more and more on the task at hand and less on sitting straight. Not even Goatee seems to notice, too focused on helping you. God, are you wearing pink? The thought is enough to send a rush of blood back down to his crotch, his hands gripping the seat underneath him like his life depends on it. He’s desperately trying to think of a million unpleasant things at once - he’s not trying to spoil your efforts. You had been so eager on the phone, had told him that frontal fillings are hard to get. It’d be a shame to ruin that opportunity for you but- The very last few ounces leave his head when he can finally feel that heavenly touch of fabric-cupped fat right on his forehead, the slightest kiss of heaven underneath blessed sterile light. Angels are singing somewhere, he’s sure, and if his mouth wasn’t already open, he’d let out the most pained silent scream to ever exist. Your tits are heavy, they’re warm and they were made to rest on his face until he suffocates and by god, you just don’t back off. Sanji is nothing but a pathetic little prey animal caught between your soft belly and your breasts and he can do nothing but play dead in hope that he might come out of this alive, somehow. You shift your weight, probably reach for the tray in front of you, imaginary violins start playing and it’s officially over.

He slacks against your touch before he can even gurgle for attention (and really, does he want to? If he were to die right now, it would be an honor, a befitting end), the world around him growing quiet, a screen of white taking over. Wherever he is going to is warm and cozy and has a magnetic pull on him, so he follows.

The last thing he hears is you calling his name and Goatee barking orders - because of course he has to get the last word in. “I told you to keep your back straight, god fucking dammit-”

And if you learned one thing that day it was to get your milkers out of people’s faces lest they faint 😔

[kjwritesalot]

I’ve been thinking abt this for a while can you please do s3 Rafe and reader where reader dose his makeup cuz she’s bored and he’s just head over heals for her😭

I LOVE THIS OMG!!!!! HE’D BE SO SOFT FOR HER!!

~

- very much soft!rafe.

~

- i do tend to type in all lowercase so hope that doesn’t bother anyone fr -

-🎀-

you and rafe have been together for a year so far, him now being used to your antics. currently you have been in your room (rafe’s room) while he is in the office doing ‘important work’ as he would say. you were bored out of your mind, but you had an idea.

you quickly got up running out the door, your feet padding against the floor to the opposite end of the house. you finally got to the door quietly creaking it open. “rafey?..” you squeaked out scared he might get annoyed with interrupting him, but all of that vanished when rafe looked up from his laptop and smiled at you.

“hey sweetheart, come here” he patted his leg for you. without second thought you bounded over to him, happily skipping to your boyfriend, sliding onto his lap smiling.

“hiii rafeyy!! im soooo boredddddddd” you whined to him. he knows you want something just by the way you won’t really look at him in the eyes and playing with the end of your cute pink skirt.

rafe shook his head amused at your antics “is that right baby? well that just won’t do” you nodded your head furiously at him “well… i want to do your makeup. can i rafey?? please pleaseee pleaseeee” you started begging him, but rafe would do anything for you so he was already going to say yes. “hey hey kid.. breathe. you can do my makeup no need to lose your breath over saying please” rafe chuckled out.

you didn’t process what he said at first, but when you did you squealed so loud jumping off him and dragging him to the room. he laughed as you dragged him rambling about how excited you were, he dragged his hand over his buzzed hair shaking his head amused. soon as you were in the room you forced him down on your vanity chair.

“okay rafey ready to look fabulous!!” he heard you say as you went through all your makeup excitement radiating from you. he let you do your thing not knowing what any of it was, but finding it so cute how concentrated you were. the whole time he stared at you with love in his eyes as you busied yourself with your task. his only thought being how in love he is with you.

—————————🎀——————————-

I HOPE THIS WAS GOOD! I TRIED IDK BUT THANK YOU SM FOR THE SUBMISSION!!

[lovelovekissoo]

Megumi Fushiguro X f!Reader.

Warning: NSFW, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, All the characters in this story are adults

Title: Miss you

•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•

The sound of dishes being washed was heard throughout the apartment, you were focused on your current task, not letting any dirt escape. Your concentration is interrupted when the sound of the doorbell echoes throughout the apartment, you turn off the tap, drying your hands as you head towards the door.

You open the door and soon your face takes on a surprised look when you see that your boyfriend was the one at the door. But this surprise soon passes when he opens his arms with a smile.

Without wasting time, you jump on his arm and start distributing small kisses across the man's face.

"I thought you were on a mission on the other side of the world, how could you get here so fast

"I couldn't keep you waiting too long for me, otherwise you would die of missing me."

"I think it's you who wouldn't survive without me... How about we go in, I want to know everything that happened." You say while moving away from him and giving him space to enter the apartment.

As soon as you enter you close the door, in an instant Megumi approaches you and pulls you in for a kiss, the kiss doesn't last long and soon becomes a make-out session. You kissed like there was no tomorrow. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth, you pulled away due to the lack of air.

"I know you wanted to know the news, dear, but I think that will have to wait until later." He says the same before he starts kissing you again.

You move away from him and guide him to his room. "I didn't know you missed me so much."

"You don't know how much I missed you, sweetheart." He says as he gently pushes you onto the bed, he starts to remove your clothes and then he helps you do the same with yours.

Megumi starts kissing his body, going down until he reaches the middle of his legs, he looks at you one last time before sinking completely into your pussy. He licked her as if it were the most delicious candy he had ever tasted, sometimes entering her hole and licking her clitoris.

Sly moans were heard from you, your hands gripped the sheets tightly. This continues until you feel the movements stop.

Before you can complain the same speak. "Honey, today we're going to have to take things a little more seriously, but I promise you won't regret it." He says climbing on top of you and kissing you making you taste yourself. He positions himself at your entrance and slowly pushes until the end, stopping a little so you can get used to the size.

As soon as he gets your approval to continue he begins to thrust slowly, gaining speed by the minute.

"Megumi... Faster please..."

He complies with his request and speeds up his thrusts, hitting you at a fast and strong pace. You clung to his back, scratching him, a louder moan is emitted from you when he hits your sweet spot.

"I thought... Well now it's fast enough for you darling." He asks in a mocking tone as he hits your sweet spot. You just start moaning his name over and over and that was definitely the best response he could have heard.

"Megumi... I-I'm going to mmm."

"That's it baby come for me."

You reach your orgasm as soon as he finishes speaking, he continues for a few more minutes before withdrawing and cumming on your belly. Megumi seals your lips in a small kiss before laying down next to you.

"Well, if it's like this every time you come back from long missions, I'll ask Gojo to just send you on those." You say in an amused tone.

"I love you too darling... Well second round in the bathroom?"

[darkbluekies]

Dr Kry asks #2

Previous one Next one Concept: I've put multiple asks into one post to avoid too many loose posts on my account! This way, you have more to read too<3 Warnings: chronic illness, losing hair, quite a lot of angst

— Yandere Dr Kry with their darling slowly losing hair(short or long hair it works both ways) from stress or fear. Like when Dr Kry brushes his hands against his darling hair there is always a lot of hair on his hands. A plus is that darling can never be calm ever again. What would he do???

He'll be so worried. Everytime he touches your head, it feels like he's pulling a fistful of your hair with him. He'll look down at his hand and then at your intense stare and sigh. His heart'll break at the sight of you being so scared. You'll cry and shout and scream, refuse to rest because you're scared of not waking up again and cling onto him in fear.

"Don't be scared, little one. I won't let anything happen to you. I will figure out what's wrong and I will make sure you get better. I think you look pretty. Don't you agree? You don't need hair to be pretty. Your beauty shines through. Give me a hug, I'll hold you for as long as you need."

He'll hold your fragile body in his strong arms, blinking away a few tears when you can't see them. If he's honest, he's terrified.

— What is Dr. kry’s long term plan with the reader? To have her stay in the hospital forever or to eventually go home with him? What is his ideal long-term plan and what would it look like?

I have talked about it a little before here and here, but I can expand it a bit. He wants to leave the hospital with you. But for that to happen, you need to be dependent on him. If you don't love him, he'll keep you drugged and weak, but if you trust him and actually like him, he'll let you live normally. He wants to have a normal, cute family life with you, so he hopes that you will give in and let him have you.

— How will Dr. Kry manage a who darling is neurodivergent? Someone with adhd for example needs to take their mediation, need behavioral therapy and in general just suffers from the symptoms of adhd: being unable to sit still, especially in calm or quiet surroundings, constantly fidgeting, being unable to concentrate on tasks, excessive physical movement, excessive talking, being unable to wait their turn, acting without thinking, interrupting conversations, And many more...

[I don't know if I'm the best one to answer this, but I will do my best and imagine how i think he would react.]

Since Dr Kry is a very calm and introverted person, he will have a harder time dealing with your needs, but he will always do his best to understand you and give you what you need. He will figure out how to take care of you one way or another because he refuses to give up and let you down. He won't have anything against your talking and interrupting since he loves hearing your voice. He will take you down into the gym to let you release some energy, he'll keep you occupied in different ways. Dr Kry will always give you the upper hand and will never blame you for anything you do. He will take all the blame because he loves you so much.

— What if Y/N just gave up trying to live with Dr.Krys treatment? After all its so tiring when you try for so long to get better but it never works in the end. I'd be so tired trying and just give up.

He'll keep your hands cuffed to the sides of the bed to prevent you from leaving him and/or this world. He will be heart broken by your new broken shell, you're not yourself and it frightens him.

"I'm sorry that you're unhappy, Y/N. I wish you weren't ... I wish that you were happy. I know that I cant make you happy just like that ... but I hope that you'll find that I'm not very bad in the future. I hope that we'll be happy together one day. I will wait."

— I love your blog and all of your characters! I wanted to ask, what if Dr. Kry ended up falling for someone who was chronically ill?

[Thank you so much for liking my stuff!! Once again, I might not be the right person to answer this because I'm very uneducated, but I will try my best.]

Dr Kry will never leave your side. Never ever. He's secretly worried that he won't have enough time with you and fears for the day he might lose you, but he'll make the most of your days. He'll keep you happy and will make sure that the only tears you shed are happy tears. He'll be with you through operations, through good days and bad days, he'll be there every second. You'll never have to feel alone. He hates the world for making you ill, but there's no one to give revenge to ... so all he can do is to be there for you and hope for the best.

[belit0]

Hello, i know you have done 12 for madara but instead could you have the roles switched and reader finds him moaning their name, but gets embarrassed for being caught Master baiting😆. Who doesn't love submissive madara.

Number 12 of the NSFW prompts! but inverted.

It would be a bit bizarre to think about the most virtuous ninja in terms of producing fire losing consciousness from heat and steam, but (Y/N) won't risk it.

The shower has been running for a long time, and she starts to worry.

Considering that Madara likes to go into the bath for at least forty minutes after training all afternoon, today's situation exceeds the norm, leading to almost an hour by the clock underwater.

Yes, maybe the bathroom is somewhat his safe place, finding peace in the shower and not having to think about all the matters he normally has to attend to, but what if he passed out because of the steam? What if he ran out of oxygen and lies on the floor?

She walks up to the bathroom door and knocks softly, not intending to disturb or interrupt yet distressed by the situation. "Madara?" She asks almost without volume, her voice timid when it comes to distracting her husband during moments he values.

There are a few contexts where the Uchiha gets irritated by being needed, such as while writing an important letter, meditating, cooking, bathing, grounds where he needs pure concentration and calm, moments where he gets angry if someone calls his name.

"Madara? Are you okay?" she tries again, knocking on the wood a little harder. The only response is the sound of water splashing against the tile. Worry rises, anxiety builds, and with increasing doubt and nervousness (Y/N) decides there is no other option left.

She slowly opens the door and expects a startled gasp, something like "WHAT THE FUCK (Y/N)!", but the only thing she hears confuses her even more. Her name, repeated over and over again in a tone she knows very well, a voice he only uses in their most intimate moments, in nights of love and fire.

He chants it like a melody, each letter sliding across Madara's tongue as honey, and she can't help but blush. She wonders to herself if it is right to stay listening, if it is right to intrude on a private moment where he clearly isn't noticing her presence, but opts for the action the Uchiha himself would take if it were him standing in the bathroom doorway.

Steam escapes through the new airway (Y/N) creates upon entering as the woman sits on the closed toilet lid, still undetected. Her man, fully engaged in the task at hand, keeps touching himself.

One hand resting on the wall and his head under the water, he uses the other to slowly and torturously masturbate as if he were deliberately delaying his pleasure. Always with a passion for suffering, the Uchiha seems to be trying to push himself to the limit, holding back his release as long as he can.

With his eyes closed and his hair covering his face, (Y/N) regrets not being able to appreciate his expression, but has no problem mentally visualizing it either. He continues to moan her name between ragged breaths and exertion, tiny bodily reflexes making him tremble in the face of his prolonged supplies.

"You weren't planning on inviting me" She deigns to speak, her voice booming against the bathroom walls as she crosses one leg over the other and rests an elbow on the toilet tank to support her face with her hand. The man is surprised, turning around and abruptly stopping his act of self-love.

"WHAT THE FUCK (Y/N)!" Finally, the line she anticipated arrives, and can't help but smile at the purity of her Uchiha, how well she knows him, and how easy it is to predict his moves. With both eyes about to pop out of his face and his mouth open, he tries to cover himself with both hands, suddenly feeling exposed.

"I didn't tell you to stop, go ahead." She encourages him to continue, not moving her gaze off him, eyes fixed between his legs, waiting for him to rush his hands and get back to the task. A smirk graces the woman's face, and she chooses not to be so hard on him.

Not at first, at least.

"I can't... if you're looking at me like that..."

"You were moaning for me, weren't you? Now you've got me here, give me a good show." The firmness of her voice gives no room for doubt, and with the door still open the steam continues to escape, giving less and less shelter to Madara's naked form.

His face transmutes into different emotions, but he soon understands it is not a request, it is an order, and he has no choice but to give her what she desires.

They both know (Y/N) is in charge.

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 24: when the party’s over

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M

* Warnings: language, angst

* Word count: 2,043ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all!

Author's note: Ugh this fall out is killing me! I hope you’re all enjoying still! This chapter is kind of filler, and shorter than usual, but some important things do occur.

I’m posting this early because one, I’m impatient, and two it was a present to myself for finishing up a couple chapters today lol.

Stella sat on Abigail waiting to help move the herd. She was annoyed she was there and in the presence of her latest case of idiocy, but helping out with the cattle came with the territory. She couldn’t avoid doing her job, especially when there wasn’t much training to be done at the current moment. She spotted Kayce up on the hill talking to his dad. It looked like he was having an existential crisis. An unsympathetic laugh blew out her nose. ‘Not my problem.’

Kayce descended the hill and centered himself in front of everyone. He locked onto Stella, who disregarded his gaze. She stared at the back of Abigail’s head in between her ears. Kayce felt eyes burning into him and found Ryan glaring daggers at him. He looked down and cleared his throat before looking back up. “Take the cows up to pasture nine. Go through the east canyon and up the fire road. Any questions?”

“There’s no gate along the fire road. We’d have to cut the fence.” Ryan pushed back, not so subtly letting Kayce know he was pissed.

Kayce nodded. “Yeah, exactly. Then we’ll fix it.”

“We push ‘em across the river and we could follow the creek —,” Colby tried to form a plan, but Ryan interrupted.

“— then we’d have to swim 100 cattle across the river.”

“Cows can swim.” Stella reminded her brother tentatively. “So can our horses. So can we.” She and Colby made a face at him.

“Hey I can’t. I don’t know how to swim, man.” Jimmy admitted.

Stella slouched back in her saddle and watched the guys argue amongst themselves. She wasn’t offering anything up to anyone. They obviously didn’t want to listen, and that wasn’t her problem. There was also the fact that she didn’t want to go hard defending Kayce’s plan. She had found her lane the hard way. That’s where she would stay. She tried once and that was enough. Reaching her hand forward she patted Abigail. She was going to keep her head down to the task at hand.

Rip shouted. “Do you know how to shut the fuck up? He didn’t ask you your opinion. He asked if there was any questions, and they’re ain’t! Now get your asses out in that field and start movin’ them cows up the canyon like he told you. Go on.”

Stella and the guys turned their horses and moved to the gate to the main pasture. Ryan pushed past her on BJ causing Abigail to squeal. “Knock it off Ryan!”

“Seniority, Stella.” He retorted back at her. She huffed at her brother’s antics and looked behind him.

Rip sidled his gelding up next to Kayce. “You ask them questions, Kayce, questions will never stop. You tell me what you need and I’ll take care of it, they won’t question me.”

“Well you said they need to respect me.”

“You let me handle the wranglers and you’ll have both. That’s my job.”

“All right, well, when we get ‘em up to pasture nine, you choose the way.”

“I don’t choose the way. Make sure no one questions yours.”

Kayce brought up the rear to the gate as Lloyd was closing it. The older wrangler stared him down. “You were a hand long enough. You know who to talk to.”

“Just tryin’ to do it different.”

“Different never works.”

The trek up to pasture nine was uneventful. She was running drag with Lloyd. The task allowed her brain to concentrate on something else and not think about every stupid thing that had occurred in the last week. She had gotten in way over her head and blinded by her laughable feelings. ‘How could you be such an idiot? He’s fucking married. You literally signed up for that spot like a mare in flaming heat.’ Her grip tightened around her reins.

Lloyd gave her a sidelong glance. “Roll that choke back in them reins, lil’ bit. She needs to have range of motion. You know better.”

Stella sat up straight and relaxed her hands. “Sorry Lloyd. Got caught in my head.”

“You’ve been quieter than normal. Somethin’ wrong?”

She pulled her lips together. “I mean, yeah, but I’ll be fine. Just gotta get through the rough part first.”

“What happened? Are you okay?”

Hearing those words from the man she considered a father almost made her tear up. She forced herself not to because of the dust flying around. She didn’t need mud to form on her face. They locked eyes for a brief second and that was all Lloyd needed to see. The look of dejection and embarrassment flashed in her eyes. He knew the look of heartbreak and disappointment on her, probably better than she did.

“We’ll get through it, you and I. Just focus on gettin’ these cattle run.”

“I don’t know if you’d be saying that if you knew what happened.” He tilted his head as if he was asking her to go on. She shifted in her saddle and took the plunge. “I became the other woman.”

His mind quickly went to Kayce. “Stella, you didn’t?”

She shrunk down. “Unfortunately I was an idiot.” She looked ahead to the cattle. She couldn’t bear to see the disappointment and disgust on Lloyd’s face.

Lloyd blinked slowly, coming to terms with what she had told him. Everyone knew she held a torch for John’s boy, but when he got married they thought that would be the end of it. Clearly they had all been wrong. He had so many questions, but he didn’t even know where to begin.

“Don’t worry. It’s over. Just trying to do my job and go home, Lloyd.” Stella cut Abigail out to the left to push the cattle over some. They had started to spread out further than she had liked. Back to business.

They made it back with only a little hiccup of the fence needing repaired first.

Stella ran into Ryan coming out of the bunkhouse. “Hey, where are you headed?”

“To give your affair a job.” Ryan sent a dig at her.

“I put an end to it.”

“Yeah. Whatever Stella.” He finished, leaving her standing there with her mouth hanging open.

Kayce walked into the downtown office where his dad’s office for livestock commissioner was situated. He said hello to a few people, took a deep breath, and pushed his way into the room.

“Ready to fingerprint scan?” Handon asked.

“I got it.” Ryan made a face at his fellow agent. “Place your fingers flat on that device.”

“Can I see your driver’s license please?” Handon interrupted.

John launched into an explanation. “To be an agent, you gotta go to the police academy first. We can drag that out for a bit, but you can’t hold my office without the badge.”

“I don’t want your office.” Kayce declined.

John laughed. “Well you can’t have it for about 15 years. It’ll take ya that long to earn everyone’s trust. Understand, Kayce, this office is how you protect the ranch. And every ranch like it.” John pointed to Handon. “Put it on speaker.”

“Sure.”

“We're about to find out how big a role you play in this family, son.” John said.

The phone clicked when the other side picked up. “NCIC.”

“Yeah this is agent Handon, Montana Livestock Association.”

“Authorization number?”

“Mike Tango Lima Alpha 139259.”

“Name?”

“Dutton, Kayce John, date of birth 4/24/90, drivers license number MT 83745820382.”

“Dutton, Kayce John. No priors, no outstanding.”

“Thank you.” Handon hung up.

“Miracles never cease.” John stood up and removed his hat.

“Well, he’s cleared for a ride-along, sir.” Handon offered John.

“Let’s get him started next week.”

Kayce put his hands on his hips. “Can I talk to you alone for a second?”

“Give us a minute.” John shooed Handon and Ryan. They get up and leave quickly. John rested back on his desk.

“I don’t know about this, dad. There’s just so many things that could go wrong.”

John held out his hand to pause his son. “Kayce, woah woah. You just let me worry about that.”

Kayce propped his arms in the back of the chair in front of him. “I can’t pass a polygraph test.”

“Well, you won’t have to.”

“Well what about a psych eval?” Kayce tried to find every outlet he could.

“Well you won’t have to take one of those either.”

When all of his escape plans didn’t follow through, he heaved a sigh. “I gotta go.”

“Kayce? What makes you think you wouldn’t pass a psych evaluation?”

He held onto the door and said, “my whole life.”

Kayce exited his father’s office. He proceeded through the front door of the building and went out onto the sidewalk. He pulled a small slip of paper out of his back pocket. It had Monica’s new apartment address on it. He had to go find her and figure some things out.

He walked along the pavement of downtown and came up to building 73 Chateau Normandie. Glancing down at the paper to double check himself, he took the stairs two at a time. The hallway was quiet as he wandered through looking for Monica’s apartment number.

He reached the end of the hallway and the door he was searching for was on his right. He lifted his hand and knocked a few times. It opened and there his wife stood, looking beautiful as ever and surprised.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“How you doin’?” Kayce felt like a teenager again. Stella flashed through his mind and he sobered.

“You know. You wanna come in?” Monica pulled the door open wider.

“Yeah, sure.”

They stepped into the apartment and the air was thick. The elephant in the room needed to be addressed, but neither of them knew how to approach it.

“You recovered?” Kayce asked.

“Getting there.” Monica crossed her arms.

“It looks like a home in here.”

“Yeah, I try.” Monica chuckled.

“Seems kinda permanent.” Kayce pointed out, testing the waters to see where his wife’s judgment stood.

“It’s an apartment, Kayce, it’s a place to,” Monica stopped. “You want any water or anything?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Kayce trailed behind her to the kitchen area.

“Heard you were workin’ for your father now, huh?”

“Yeah, I just —,” Tate interrupted him.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, bud.” Kayce hugged him tight. He missed him something fierce.

Tate asked him excitedly. “Wanna see my new room?”

“Yeah, sure buddy.”

“It’s over here.”

Tate led his father down the hallway and Monica listened from a distance. She leaned against the wall and dropped her head back. Tears blurred her vision. She hated this. She hated being apart from Kayce, but he’d proven time and time again his father’s pull on him was stronger than he’d like to admit. She had to keep their son safe from that. She walked to the mirror to wipe her eyes before Kayce came back.

Kayce walked back down the hallway and around the corner. “How you affordin’ all of this?”

“Uh, university gives us a spending allowance. So I spent it on all of this instead of moving. All our furniture was old and someone else’s.”

“I know it’s not much, but—,” Monica interrupted curtly.

“We’re fine.”

“Please.” Kayce huffed. “I don’t know how to do this Monica. I don’t know how to not be with you. Or not talk to you. You’re my wife. You’re my best friend. You’re my only friend.”

“You’re mine too Kayce, but you also have Stella.”

“This isn’t about her.”

“But something had to change. And instead of changing, you’re just, you’re working for your father. And it probably should be about her as well. I’m sure you ran straight into her arms the second you got home.”

“Well you told me to leave!”

“Yeah everyone keeps telling you to leave and you keep doing it! What you’re supposed to do is fight for the life you want.”

“That’s not what you asked me to do!”

“Stop it!” Tate screamed over top of his parents.

Kayce and Monica glared at each other. “You asked me to leave, Monica. You wanted somethin’ different, you should have asked for something different.” He said resolutely. He walked past Tate and patted his head as he stormed out the door.

[chaesonghwas]

hello my love 🥰🥰 may i request please a 27. sharing an umbrella in the rain, or a coat/blanket in the cold for our beloved piarles? 💕

hi Jully babeeee💕💕 Thank you so much for sending in a prompt, this was veeeery cute to write!! Here's a deleted scene from chapter 4 of the football au, between the ribbon scene and the game vs Max🥰

romance prompts

The rain starts pouring when there’s still thirty minutes left of practice, the sky darkening with ominous clouds.

(Considering it’s their last practice before the match against the Netherlands, it doesn’t feel like a very good sign.)

It starts slowly, non-threatening, but it picks up rapidly and suddenly Charles is drenched and cold, the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and barely lets you think. He thought he’d gotten used to Slovakia, but he was wrong. His last drills are shit, he knows, but he manages until the coach calls it all off with five minutes to spare. 

Charles tries to book it for the showers, but ends up being too slow and is stopped by half the team crowding the door, ending up on the outside of the building while still catching raindrops on his head. He tries to push his way in but is unsuccessful, so he resigns himself to shivering and trying to avoid catching a cold for a few minutes… All that until he feels an umbrella come over his head to protect him and is met by Pierre’s soft smile and kind eyes, his floppy hair being suspiciously dry.

“You know, petit,” he says, “if we make a run for it right now, we can make it back to our room and shower there. No one will notice we’re gone.”

“Fuck yeah.” Charles answers, desperate to get out of the cold. “But only if you tell me where you got that umbrella.”

“A magician never reveals his tricks.” Pierre winks and takes his hand. “We go on 3, okay? 1…2…3!”

Without waiting long for his reaction, Pierre speeds away and Charles does his best to follow.

Holding onto the umbrella as they run ends up being a difficult task for the taller boy, so the reality is that they both end up getting drenched by the time they make it to their residence’s front door, under the little roof.

He ends up spending more time under the rain than he had at training, but hearing Pierre’s bubbling laughter, Charles doesn’t feel like he’s suffering from the cold anymore. If anything, he feels warm and all he can concentrate on is how unfairly beautiful Pierre looks in the dim afternoon light with his hair sticking to his face. He tries to stop himself, to keep his thoughts in check, but he feels like he should be allowed to have this. Like he does every night that they end up sleeping curled up together, Charles allows himself to indulge.

“Well, that could have gone better.” Pierre says and smirks at Charles. Immediately, he starts shaking his hair like a dog to annoy him.

“Hey! Asshole!” Charles yells and answers in kind, meaning that they end up in a battle that could have gone on forever if not for Anthoine interrupting them by clearing his throat.

“Guys,” he questions, “what the hell are you doing?”

He seems perfectly dry - or at least dryer than Pierre and Charles -, and carrying a huge umbrella. 

“...Nothing?” Pierre answers, trying to look innocent but failing miserably. 

Anthoine rolls his eyes, “Okay, Mr. Nothing. We should go upstairs and shower, unless you want to get sick and have Verstappen beat us 33-0.”

Charles laughs, pulling Pierre inside, “He’s right calamar, let’s go.”

---

Based on very strategic pouting and puppy dog eyes because he was freezing, Charles ends up taking the first shower and quickly burrows himself in a gigantic tower of blankets as soon as he feels the icy temperature in the room, setting himself up to nap until dinner at least.

Charles teeters somewhere between wakefulness and slumber, enjoying the warmth, but he’s properly awakened when a freshly showered Pierre throws himself on top of him.

“Make room.” he says, muffled by the fabric. 

Charles scoots over a little, but Pierre actually pushes him closer to the wall and wraps around him like a koala.

“You’re warm.” Pierre says, his voice rougher than it usually is.

“You’re cold.” Charles shoots back, unable to defend himself from Pierre, who seems intent on breaking down all his defenses. Curled up under a mountain of blankets under the dying rays of daylight, the moment feels rawer around the edges.

“Maybe if you hadn’t stolen all the blankets in the entire building, I would be less cold.” Pierre fake-reprimands then, bringing Charles right back down to Earth from his romantic notions. 

He wills himself to avoid reacting, and instead curls up facing away from Pierre. “We should sleep, calamar. I have an alarm set up for dinner time.”

“Great.” He answers, and Charles can hear the smile in his voice. “What would I do without you, Cha?”

“Win less trophies? Laugh less?”

Pierre pokes him in the side and Charles giggles. “You’re so conceited.”

“Ah,” Charles answers, “but you still like me.”

“Lucky for you, I do.” 

“Wasn’t I supposed to be the conceited one?”

Pierre pokes him again, harder this time.

“Hey, hey.” Charles complains. “No violence.”

“Okay.” Pierre says and his body goes pliant again, curling up around the shape of Charles. “We should sleep, petit.”

“Yeah.” Charles answers, allowing his eyes to go bleary. “We should.”

[dangraccoon]

Oyuba'din - Chapter 14: Remember

Summary: Jaine makes a decision about her future.

Warnings: intense pain, painful memories resurfacing, implied physical abuse, brief mention of murder

Author's Note: Hello friends! This is gonna be a sort of rough one; as mentioned in the warnings above there is implied physical abuse and mention of murder. These are contained in less than 100 words at the end of the chapter. Nothing is described or discussed further. All that being said, I hope you're all still enjoying this series! I'm really loving creating it for you all! Please keep it up with your lovely replies, likes, and reblogs! they fuel my even better than the spite that normally does 💛🤟Also, let me know what y'all think of the little banner I made!

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“What?” Hunter groaned, squinting at the medic at his bedside. 

“You’re an idiot,” Jaine repeated, a little softer now, but the chill didn’t leave her voice. She picked up a scrap of cloth, smeared some kind of paste on it, and then blew a cool breath over it before laying it across Hunter’s forehead. 

“Smells weird,” he grunted. 

Jaine scoffed a little. “Smells better than you do.”

Hunter shifted his concentration towards himself. She wasn’t wrong. He could tell his body odor was stronger than normal, and he still reeked of alcohol. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

She ignored him, turning back to her bag on the side table. “Can you take pills?” she asked, tersely. 

“Yeah, I-”

“Take two of these with food, and then one every two hours until you’re feeling better. I’ll give the instructions to Tech and Crosshair because I know you’ll either forget or just not do it without someone forcing you.”

Something was wrong. Hunter knew something was wrong. Her voice was icy and her face seemed to be made of durasteel. None of the typical humor that sparkled in her eyes was present. She almost looked hollow. 

The door to the room he was sharing with Crosshair for their R&R slid open, revealing the sniper himself. 

“Good timing,” she said, though Hunter noted that the hint of sarcasm that was usually a staple in her voice - especially when speaking to Crosshair - was absent. 

He longed to ask her what was wrong, to search for whatever was draining away all the little tones and mannerisms he’d grown used to and fix it all. 

“He needs to take this medicine. Two as soon as possible, it goes down better with food. Then one every two hours until his headache is gone. That cloth on his face is optional, but it should help minimize the overload I’m sure will hit him later on,” she prattled, barely even looking at either brother. 

“Jaine,” Hunter tried to interrupt. 

“If you need to add more to the cloth, it’s in this container, and this container has the drink blend for his migraines, and some of the de-scented kind in case he’s overloading. Also in this bag is the bruise salve - I made extra, I know Wrecker goes through it like crazy - Echo’s phantom pain lotion, Tech’s tea blend, and those pills I gave you for your stiffness.”

“Jaine,” Hunter tried again, sitting up. 

“Lay down, sergeant,” she ordered, not looking away from the task at hand. “I labeled everything in aurebesh; I know Tech was worried about not being able to read my ‘scribbles’, as he called them.”

“Hey,” Crosshair started, quietly. “What’s going on? Talk to us.”

“I am talking to you,” she stated plainly, pulling a data stick from the bag. “This has everything I just told you in case none of you can get it right.”

She packed up the bag, then placed the strap of it in Crosshair’s hand. “You can contact the 501st when you are in need of a resupply and more will be sent when we get the chance.”

“Jaine, you’re not serious,” Crosshair protested. 

“As the grave, trooper,” she spat. “I have a meeting. Goodbye.”

She quickly left the room, despite the protests of the men behind the other side of the door now closing behind her. 

She started her brisk walk away from the barracks, but was quickly met with Tech and Wrecker, emerging from the room they were sharing with Echo. 

“Jainey!” Wrecker shouted, even as she brushed by them.

“Jaine, I have some questions about the files you have sent to me,” Tech started, trailing after her and meeting her pace easily. 

“I’m sorry, I have a meeting in a few moments, and it is important that I get there on time,” she stated. 

While Wrecker was more or less oblivious as he and Tech stopped following Jaine down the hallway, letting out a disappointed sigh, Tech noted her. Her voice came out flat and monotone as opposed to the way she sounded almost musical to him, and her posture was guarded, even as she rushed away. More than that, she brushed them off completely. Tech knew she cared about them, but she was acting distant from them now. Even if she were running late, she would have stopped and likely would have told Tech about her meeting. Now, she barely even glanced at them, even Wrecker, for whom Tech knew she had a soft spot. Tech didn’t rely on intuition or “gut feelings” as much as his brothers did, but he had one now. 

“Guess we’ll see her later,” Wrecker shrugged, heading back to their room. 

Tech stared at the point he had last seen Jaine before she had rounded a corner. “I’m not sure we will,” he said under his breath. 

-

“Jainey, are you sure you want to do this? I know you and General Skywalker don’t have the best…opinions on one another,” Rex asked, cringing a little.

“Of course I’m sure. I wouldn’t be doing this if I weren’t,” she shrugged. “Do I wish Skywalker was a little less…irritating, sure, but he takes good care of his men. I’ll be fine.”

Rex took a deep breath. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t give you the chance to back out of this.”

Rex hit the button to open the door, and Jaine entered the room.

“Lieutenant Vale,” General Skywalker greeted warmly. Jaine stood rigid at attention, her hand at her forehead in a salute. “None of that for an old friend.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, as at-ease as she could be in the presence of this particular General. 

“Why don’t you have a seat; my Padawan and our other colleagues will be arriving shortly,” he smiled, gesturing to a set of chairs on one side of the room. 

“‘Other colleagues’, sir? I was under the impression it would just be the three of us.” Jaine was beginning to feel uneasy, like she had just been walked directly into a trap. She ultimately decided to attempt not to show her true feelings, sitting politely on a couch. 

“You see,” Skywalker began, but was interrupted by the door opening again. 

Kriff, she thought as she watched two more Jedi and two more clones enter the room. 

“Jaine,” Obi Wan Kenobi smiled. “I hope you don’t mind that I invited Commander Cody and ARC Echo here to this meeting; they and Captain Rex all feel Echo may have some insight that could be helpful in coming to a decision about your placement in the GAR.”

-

“You have to take them,” Crosshair grumbled as Hunter refused to accept the medication left for him by their medic, his medic. 

“Stow it, Cross,” Hunter growled back. 

Wrecker laughed. “Sarge must be feelin’ bad,” he grinned, elbowing Tech’s side. “That’s why he’s so grumpy!”

“Given the amount of alcohol he consumed last night and his usual hypersensitivity to stimuli, it is unsurprising that he doesn’t feel well,” Tech mentioned, rubbing the section of his rib cage that had caught the brunt of Wrecker’s amusement. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Wrecker added, rolling his eyes and waving Tech off as he walked out of the room. “Anyway, I got some regs to spar and win against.”

Tech and Crosshair exchanged a look with each other, then glared back at Hunter. 

“What?” he scowled. 

“Hunter, Jaine’s directions were clear,” Tech said. “If you want to feel better, you will have to take the medication she has left for you.”

“I don’t need them; I’m fine,” Hunter reiterated, flopping back onto his bunk. 

“Sure,” Crosshair snarked. “The lightest sleeper I know slept undisturbed through all of his brothers and his medic coming into the same room as him. But yeah, sure, you’re fine.”

Hunter’s eyes narrowed at the sniper.

“Hunter-”

“I’m not taking the damn meds, Tech,” Hunter snarled, shooting back into a sitting position. He realized he said it a bit more forcefully than he’d intended as he watched Tech recoil a little, and Crosshair stepped towards him, almost protectively. 

“Fine, feel miserable then. Just answer one question; why didn’t you tell us Jaine was transferring units?”

“She’s what?” Crosshair sputtered looking between Tech and Hunter. “She told me she was on a temporary mission, not leaving altogether.

“Jaine is leaving our squad for another unit. I do not know the reason behind it, though I expect Hunter does. 

Hunter simply sat there, glaring at his brothers as though he were trying to convince them to leave just with a look. 

“Hunter, why is our medic transferring to another unit?” Crosshair asked, his voice far softer than Hunter expected. 

“Don’t know. It was her choice,” he finally said, doing his best to keep his voice as neutral as possible. 

Crosshair scowled at Hunter, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Echo was supposed to be babysitting him last night,” Crosshair murmured. “Maybe he’ll tell us.”

With one last nasty look from both of his brothers, they left him alone. 

-

Why does this feel like a trap?, Jaine wondered as 6 sets of eyes all watched her carefully. 

“So, Lieutenant Vale, your record shows that you recently transferred from the 212th to Clone Force 99, about two and a half months ago,” Ahsoka questioned. “Why are you requesting another transfer now?”

“Interpersonal conflict between myself and the commanding officer of the unit, Sergeant Hunter,” Jaine reported. 

“You want to join the 501st because you and Hunter can’t get along?” Anakin scoffed. 

“I am unsure of what soured our working relationship, but it seems we have irreconcilable differences.”

“Lieutenant, you were ordered to work with Clone Force 99 by General Kenobi, myself, and Commander Cody. Why go against that order now?”

“As I said, General-”

“Echo,” Skywalker said, cutting Jaine off mid-sentence. “Did you witness any of these ‘irreconcilable differences’?”

Jaine watched Echo’s eyes widen in surprise for a moment as though he couldn’t believe his opinion was actually being asked, before settling back into the fierce expression of determination he’d been wearing since he arrived. 

“Not personally, sir, although Sergeant Hunter did confide in me a few things he was uncomfortable with regarding Lieutenant Vale,” he reported, his eyes never leaving Jaine’s. 

“Did you agree with your Sergeant?” Obi Wan asked. 

“No, sir. I found most of his points to be unfounded.”

What is he thinking? Jaine wondered as she watched the ARC speak.

“Oh, really? How so?” Obi Wan said, urging Echo to continue.

“His observations were primarily based on Lieutenant Vale’s character, something to which I have been paying close attention as well, and I believe his findings to be fallible,” Echo explained, his amber eyes burning holes into Jaine’s hazel. Despite the stoic expression on his face, his voice was full of emotion. “That being said, I also believe that any misunderstandings between Sergeant Hunter and Lieutenant Vale can easily be cleared up. I can even mediate if they feel it is necessary.”

For the briefest of moments, Jaine felt as though she could read beyond his soldier’s countenance. Deep in his eyes she saw it; his express desire to keep her in the squad, to keep her with him, and above all else, his fear that she actually would leave.

“Well, I’d say that’s certainly something to consider,” Obi Wan said, grinning at Jaine. 

“Would you be open to meeting with Sergeant Hunter, perhaps accompanied by Echo, to try and…talk things out?” Anakin snarked.

So Jaine was right, it was a trap. She walked right into it, and now that it had her, she had no choice but to submit.

“I will have a meeting with them, however I would ask that my request for transfer be kept open, in the event that our discussion does not go as well as you all seem to think it might.”

“Of course,” Ahsoka smiled. “And I’m sure that should you still wish to transfer to the 501st, General Skywalker would be glad to have you.”

Jaine couldn’t be sure, but she could’ve sworn she saw Commander Tano kick Skywalker’s leg under the table, who quickly cleared his throat.

“Right, I’m sure we could find a…suitable position for you, Lieutenant.”

They all stood from the table, and Lieutenant Vale gave a respectful salute to the Generals, Commanders, and Captain, turning on her heel to leave.

“Oh, Lieutenant,” Obi Wan called. “I was hoping we could have a word with you in private?”

“Of course, General,” she sputtered. 

Jaine watched as Skywalker, Ahsoka, and Rex all left. Echo turned back to face her. “I’ll be right outside,” he assured her, before following the others out.

“How can I help you, sir?” Jaine asked nervously. 

“None of that. What happened, Jaine?” he interrogated. 

Jaine’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What?”

“All records indicate that your time with this squad have been positive, but here you are, leaving only a few months in? That doesn’t seem like the Jaine I know.”

There was a slight ringing in her ear. “I- I don’t understand,” she mumbled, hand cupping the side of her head.

“Jaine, what do you remember about your home planet, Qoljak? What do you remember about the day your moon died?” Obi Wan pressed. The ringing became louder and Jaine fell to a crouch.

“General,” Cody began to protest, rushing to Jaine’s side.

“It’s going to be okay, Cody,” he spoke soothingly to his Commander, before his voice turned harsh again. “Think, Jaine. You must remember how you escaped the planet after your ship went down.”

“I don’t- I c-can’t,” she whimpered, clutching her head. Her eyes were screwed shut tightly, the ringing becoming too much. She knew what he was trying to do, thinking back to the way she’d brushed Sinya off when she’d suggested going over the list. “P-please don’t.”

“Obi Wan,” Cody practically begged, feeling helpless in this situation.

“Come on, Jainera, remember me,” Obi Wan’s voice pleaded with her, pushing her down into what felt like a black lake. She crashed under, floating helplessly into her own mind.

On the surface, Jaine howled in pain, her torso thrusting up, face towards the ceiling. Her eyes flew open, her usual hazel replaced by a crimson red light that completely covered the irises, pupils, and sclerae, smoky red tears dripping from them. Cody jumped, looking over his friend, full of anxiety. 

Echo burst into the room, eyes rapidly trying to take in the sight before him, he rushed to Jaine’s side, grasping her shoulder with his hand, and pressing his scomp to her other arm.

“Jaine, Jaine,” he called. “What happened? What’s wrong with her?”

He looked frantically to Cody and Obi Wan, begging for answers.

“Echo, Cody, we need to lay her flat, and you both need to get away from her. If you see any red smoke, do not touch it,” Obi Wan ordered.

The pair of clones looked at each other, but ultimately followed the general’s orders.

Jaine’s red eyes were wide open as she lay supine on the floor, unmoving. 

“Set a chrono, I’ll need to know how long we’re under,” Obi Wan ordered Echo, then turned to Cody. “There is a contact on my data pad labeled as S. Bey. Comm her, immediately. Tell her M3, GAR barracks. When she confirms that she received the message, you will meet her at the gate. Use my clearance codes if you must, but she must get here quickly. Go, now.”

Cody set off to carry out his orders, sending one last look of thinly veiled fear.

In her mind, Jaine resurfaced. She was home. No, not quite. This isn’t where I was that day, she spoke, her words echoing slightly, as though she were in a cavern. She could see the destruction around her. The craters left by the meteors.

No, I remembered this already. I know what I did, she begged to the emptiness. She could hear herself crying out, pleading for help. She ran towards her own strained voice.

I was so young, she said. Something made her spine tingle and she realized she wasn’t alone. Just as her younger self saw a young man running towards her, shouting for his master, she saw Obi Wan Kenobi, now a Jedi master in his own right. The two images collided together, mixing in a way that made her eyes sting.

Do you remember me, Jainera? he asked, stepping towards her. My master, Qui-gon Jinn, and I were sent to your home planet to stop the war and save your people.

Jaine felt herself trembling. She looked down at her shaking hands, vaguely aware of the wisps of red smoke pouring from them. 

Obi Wan? she murmured.

Obi Wan pointed to the memory playing out before them. Yes. We rescued you from that debris. We brought you to Coruscant.

Qui-gon Jinn and Obi Wan Kenobi, she repeated. You brought me to the temple.

Yes, Obi Wan breathed.

You brought me to the Council. You said they would help me.

Yes, he repeated.

The Council sent me to the AgriCorps. That’s where Sinya and I met, she remembered. That’s… she trailed off as she felt what felt like a swift kick to the gut.

Go on, Jainera. Remember, he pleaded.

They refused to let me contact you. Our group leader, she- she was horrible to us.

Obi Wan’s eyes went wide. These were not the memories he was looking for. 

That’s why I can’t remember you, isn’t it? she cried, red tears streaming down her face. Because of what she did to me?

Jainera, I-

She killed me, Obi Wan.

Thanks for reading! - Dang

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[mess-with-a-purpose]

Lovable Genius

Pairing: Chris Knight x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: The power problem is leaving Chris feeling frustrated but you decide to help even with your limited science expertise. You ramble about a Ray Bradbury short story to spark some inspiration. Cuteness ensues along with first time “I love yous.”

Warnings: none; just chris being adorkable and nerdy

You had curled yourself up on Chris’ unmade bed with a Jordan Cochran original makeshift lap desk held over your thighs. A well-loved copy of Ray Bradbury’s The Illustrated Man sat next to a scribble-heavy notebook. Tonight’s focus was “The Veldt” and your analysis was smeared across the page with trails of blue as your thoughts had come quicker than the ink could dry. Chris perched at his desk, his textbooks and papers sprawled out in his own organized mayhem. Part of that mayhem also included empty Coke cans, chocolate wrappers, and a coffee ring he’d left over intricate notes for a particular transfusion equation that you asked him to explain just to see his face gloss over with concentration.

This was how the pair of you preferred to work: sharing the space to offer emotional support, though neither could complete the other’s task. People joke that this is what makes you so perfect for each other. The cliche of “opposites attract” is a plague on your relationship without a speck of irony. The truth is, you wish you could understand Chris’ work. Understand all the lingo with fancy equations to pair with it, the weird symbols that coincide with the numbers and letters. Science for you was homemade slime chucked across high school lab tables or food models of cells that became toothpick-spiked clumps of cake, frosting, and jolly ranchers. Chris knows this but he also knows you love seeing him talk about his passions.

“But I can’t synthesize the excited bromide to that degree, not without–” Chris sighed, rubbing his palms over his exhausted face, leaning back in his chair with a frustrated groan as he closed his eyes. You couldn’t help but feel slightly sorry for your eccentric dork in all his foiled glory. Five megawatts was an absolute bitch.

Concentration interrupted for good reason, you stop chewing your pen cap to sneak a glance at Chris. Extending your leg for a brief stretch, you push your foot against his swivel chair to rock him for a moment.

“Hey, genius, would you be prepared if virtual reality took over our perception of life as we know it?” You ask softly, pen cap still between your lips as you jot down a quick note and further smear words across the page. The side of your palm is sporting a new blue tinge.

No response. Another foot rock. “Hey, hot stuff,” still nothing. The pen drops from your lips and becomes an impromptu bookmark as you mimic your boyfriend’s sigh. God damn it, he knew exactly what he was doing, the dick. 

You roll your eyes, understanding his subliminal message tucked into his demeanor. You didn’t want to cave but you knew it would help. Taking another second to let him stew, you quickly cook up a tactic to scratch that big-ass brain of his. 

God damn you, Chris Knight.

One more foot rock and you let out a playful gasp. “Oh my god, babe, my boob is out!” Chris’ eyes excitedly open with a slight dusting of lust and his shit-eating grin. His expression almost immediately stiffens as you giggle.

“Wow, one of the top ten minds in the country and you still can’t figure out when I’m bluffing?” You chuckle as you rest your foot on the arm of his chair. 

Chris switches to his playful smirk. “One day, baby. One day you’ll actually mean it,” his fingers ghost over your toes, earning him a squeal from you as you toss your book at him to foil his sneak attack. It lands in his lap, plopping open as the pen slips to the ground. Your genius takes a glance at the page, the sci-fi material catching his golden retriever attention. You settle back against the wall, your foot resting on the chair and Chris’ hand falling effortlessly to stroke your leg as he skims the contents.

“You’d really like that story, Genius.”

“Oh yeah? Why? Does it just say some random formulas here and there with some bozo trying to solve some obscure problem?”

“Isn’t that the basis of what you do, anyway? Just in a way oversimplified nutshell?” you giggle, grabbing your notebook to flip to your analysis once again.

Chris pauses, still staring at the page. “There’s such thing as a non-simplified nutshell?” his face morphs into a dorky and clueless expression. God, you love that he can’t understand sarcasm at the best of times.

You let out a hearty laugh and point to the book with the pen. “Can I see that for a second, please?” you motion to the book, fingers tucking between the pages of the short story captivating your curiosity. Your eyes observe him delicately for a moment. “You never did answer my question, Genius.”

Chris nestles back into his chair while his fingers drum along your leg. His forehead creased with contemplation, an unusual look for him. “Virtual reality? I thought you already gave me that whole simulation conspiracy,” you open your mouth, prepared to validate yourself but Chris is a step ahead. “which I’m not saying is totally ruled out, but when you look at the probability–”

“It isn’t zero! You said so yourself!” 

“Well no, but–” And there it is.

“Wonderful, another thing to ward people off having kids; not only can your spawn have the emotional capacity of a pinhead but you better look out for when they trap you in a fake safari to be eaten by very real lions if you piss them off!” The last page shoved its way to Chris, blue-stained fingers guiding him to the final paragraph of the parents��� doom as if providing “Exhibit A” in evidence.

You click your tongue, sighing as the last line bores itself into your head. “But, they say it’s only Bradbury’s commentary on our technology dependence,” your eyes glaze over, lines of literary analysis flood your subconscious just waiting to be ranted out.

Suddenly, your throat feels dry and you consider your follow-up question. Chris stares back at his power problem like a parent scolding a taunting child. “Genius?” a shift in his eyes signals he’s attentive. You continue. “What exactly is a five-megawatt laser consistently used for? I mean, that shit’s gotta be powerful–”

Another frustrated sigh. “Well, I can’t really worry about it until I actually finish the damn thing,” thoughtful fingers graze your shin as he resubmerges into endless strings of numbers and letters, back into a foreign land.

“Genius, you said something about bromide,” you felt way out of your wheelhouse, but your voice was somewhat confident. This wasn’t classroom slime or literal cake cells yet you felt a strange familiarity. 

“Mhmm,” Chris tucked his pencil behind his ear while flipping through textbooks.

“Well, you mentioned a few days ago that you can’t keep the laser consistent with the wattage. Why is that?” Adjusting yourself on the bed, you put your book aside and quickly remind him to explain in simple terms, like a five-year-old.

Clearing his throat, Chris flips to the original formula hidden beneath what seems like layers of chicken scratch. “When mommy bromide and daddy argon love each other very much–”

He dodges as a pillow smacks his smug smile. “Don’t be a dick, Genius.”

“Fine, I can try out being a vagina. Think I’ve got a pretty good mock-up right here...” his eyes flicker, that stupid, dork smile sticking around.

Gathering ammo with devious focus, you gear up with the book. “This'll be for your head.”

“Alright, alright,” arms up in playful surrender, he pulls the formula sheet to the front. “The bromide is what goes into the argon matrix to create the energy for the laser via chemical reaction–”

“Yes, I remember that.”

“Our problem is the bromide is not at a high enough state of excitement to maintain a consistent wattage,” his fingers lead you around the page, certain combinations of letters look familiar, “but I can’t figure out how exactly to keep it in a consistently excited stage that doesn’t defy all levels of physics.”

Scrunched in concentration, you provide your limited insight. “Well, if it’s consistency that you need…” you glance back at the rest of the formula, still not making much sense of it but using Chris’ lesson to put certain pieces together.

“I remember in high school science when we learn about the properties of matter… something about stability in relation to chemical potential.”

“The basics.”

“For you, sure, but remember,” you point to your scientific dumbass for good measure. “This is me we’re talking about here.”

Chris nods, his expression almost mocking but you let it slide before continuing. “I remember hearing you say something about bromide needing a certain level of excitement to maintain that level of energy.”

Another nod.

“Well, I’m sure you may have already thought of this before but, given that solids have more chemical potential and stability, is it even possible to do something like, I don’t know, freeze it?” As soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, you backtrack. “Wait, is bromide actually a liquid to begin with?”

A new expression washes over Chris’ face. It wasn’t contemplation, concentration, or frustration. This was… new. He doesn’t answer either question, his newfound expression captivating your concern. He seemed not angry? Was he delighted? A spark came behind his eyes that you recognized; it was the same spark that always accompanied his mischievous nature from the impromptu ice rink to sabotaging Kent’s dorm with his own car. The familiarity came as a comfort while you both processed the moment.

“Genius?” you break the silence only to be met with a burst of enthusiastic energy from your manic boyfriend. 

“Ah-haha!” Chris’ face mirrors that of a jester absolutely beside himself. You let out a squeal as his body catapults you back onto the bed, kisses raining across your face.

“Genius, what –”

“YOU are the genius, you precious bookworm!” another kiss on your cheek paired with a hearty laugh. “HA-HA!”

Chris slows himself, panting as he finds your eyes. Flashes of memories pile into one another: laughing on the green, reading him poetry to talk out your analysis, your confused look as he explains the laser, him propping up your book as you fall asleep in his arms, you giving him a passing kiss before grabbing coffees, helping Jordan with her weird inventions, how your face brightens with an idea and scrunches during a rant. It’s all there.

Here, he makes sense. Here, he can trust. Here, he can see perspective. Here, he’s home.

Bringing his lips to yours, his kiss is passionate and intuitive. Everything he wanted to say was right there and you felt it through your entire body.

“I love you,” Chris says, finding a moment of peace to latch on to.

You grasp his shoulders and squeeze. Giving him a smile, you bite your bottom lip. “And I love you.”

Pulling each other in, you share another kiss before he buries his exhausted face in your neck with a sigh. Your hold on him tightens, neither of you wanting to let this peaceful moment go. Sweet nothings are exchanged between more declarations of “I love you” and kisses. However, you weren’t at all surprised when Chris flipped his switch to change the genre of the mood.

“I love you AND we may have figured out the power problem!” He kisses your lips and forehead so fast, his mouth feels like a ghost as he scampers into the hallway. “Ice is nice!”

Laughter fills the space as you follow Chris and watch him bounce along the walls, jamming himself into Lazlo and an unlucky student. His smile beamed from the stairs before he screams down the foyer to you. “I absolutely love you! I love you, I love you, I love you!”

He trails off as he runs, arms flailing with excitement as you admire from his doorway and laugh.

God damn you, Chris Knight, you lovable genius.

[urfavstargirl1]

The Empress, Part VI

A/n: Hope everyone’s had a great week! Here’s part 6 and just to let y’all know, things are really gonna start to ramp up from here so buckle up!

AO3 Link

Kylo Ren x Female Reader

Words: 2800

Chapters: 6/10

Chapter Summary: Y/n isn’t ready to bring her relationship with Kylo to the forefront of the galaxy but with a new promotion in sight, a lot of change is coming her way

Story Summary: As Kylo Ren steps into power as Supreme Leader, he struggles to use his power to effectively lead the Empire. Y/N is a renowned Commander eagerly working her way up the ranks. Her loyalty to the Empire is tested when the Supreme Leader suddenly takes an interest in her. When one date becomes several and she is ultimately tasked with becoming Empress and wife of the Supreme Leader, will Y/N be able to handle that kind of power outside the commander’s uniform?

CW: angst, romance, alludes to anxiety, panic attack

“So in order to coordinate such an event, we’ll have to reach out to the unit leads to direct it and then we’ll probably have to schedule it a few weeks from now,” I command.

“Yes, I’ve already taken a look at my schedule and it’s quite packed for the next two weeks,” Locke responds.

“Okay, so I can contact Lieutenant Barnes about schedule dates, but I need you to contact Lieutenant Gabino about unit leads,” I say.

“Commander Y/n, I–” Kylo commands, barging into my office. Locke and I both look up from my screen to him and immediately stand up and subtly bow.

“Supreme Leader,” we address.

“Oh, I’m… am I interrupting something,” he awkwardly asks.

“Commander Locke and I were just coordinating a training session… per General Hux’s orders.”

“If we’re good to go… then I think I will… return to my station,” Locke awkwardly states.

“Yes… I think that will be sufficient for today... If I have any other concerns I’ll reach out to you,” I reply. He nods at me, bows subtly to the Supreme Leader, and swiftly exits the room. 

“Is there something I can help you with, Supreme Leader,” I ask in my most neutral voice. Without a word, he uses the Force to lightly close the door. He gestures for me to sit and I do. He sits down in the chair across from me and looks over his shoulder. He removes his helmet and smiles when he sees me.

“It is absolutely ravishing to see you like this, my love” he comments in a low voice and folds his hands over the table. His jet black locks look perfect even after being constrained by his helmet.

Instinctively, I look around and in a hushed tone scold, “Kylo”. 

“What? Can I not say that it thrills me to see the look of concentration adorn your beautiful face,” he asserts. The heat rising to my cheeks cannot be contained.

“Why did you stop by?”

“Is it a crime to come and see my favorite girl,” he responds and it takes everything in me to hold back the smile that wants to sprawl on my face. 

“During duty hours, yes, it is.”

“That is no way to speak to your Supreme Leader,” he taunts. I try to think of a witty or flirty response but I hold back from saying anything, fearing I might be overheard.

“What is it y/n,” he asks sweetly and extends his gloved hand over the desk for me. I look at it and then at my own hands folded under the desk. 

“What is causing this tension within you? It is so strong even I can feel it,” he comments.

“It is one thing to say such words in… an outside context, but here things are different,” I reply while peering up at him.

“It is inappropriate to say such things at a time and place like this,” I firmly say.

“Y/n, we are alone. When else could it possibly be more appropriate?”

“Outside of duty hours, that is. This is your empire sir, and I don’t think you would very well like it if one of your troops was wasting her time talking to some silly little boy when she could be doing far more important things.”

“Oh, well, in that case, as her Supreme Leader, maybe I should order her to stop what she was doing and talk to this silly little boy. Perhaps then she might listen,” he snaps. My fingers tense and make a fist in both hands. My leg shakes rapidly under the desk and I curl my tongue up to the roof of my mouth. 

He exhales and softens his shoulders.

“Look Y/n, I… just… are you upset with me? Is there something I did? I mean, I was really expecting a far warmer welcome than this,” he conceded. I avoid his gaze and search for the right words.

“No, I’m not upset with you. At least not directly. I guess I’m just… I don’t know… upset with the situation.”

“Is there something about this arrangement that concerns you? Should it concern me as well?”

I nod. He sighs and runs his hand through his hair.

“It’s not you… It’s… the people around us… Did you know that we’re being watched? Well not watched, but the things we do in the public eye even as just part of duty, people see that. A lot more people than I expected are seeing us. And they’re starting to notice things… things they shouldn’t be. And now that they’re noticing, they’re starting to say things.”

“Y/n, I know this is rather new for you, but I have been in the public eye, as you say, for quite some time and it is something that you become accustomed to. At some point, you realize that people will say whatever they want to say, but it only means something if you let it.”

“Hm… okay, well what if you heard someone say that they think we look sweet together, would you let that mean something?”

He looks absolutely giddy at my question. A smile spreads across his face and his eyes even crinkle at the ends.

“Without hesitation,” he boasts.

“Okay, interesting, well what if someone said that they think I could do better than you... and that it’s no wonder you haven’t found an empress yet,” I say. 

“WHAT? Who told you that? Was it that commander who was just in here with you? I’ve seen the way he looks at you y/n and I do not like it, not one bit,” he seethed, jumping out of the chair and pacing the small space.

”Kylo, be quiet and sit down please,” I ordered. He follows and looks at me, anger raging in his eyes. He presses his lips in a tight line and exhales loudly.

“I wish it did not matter who said those things, but it does. Even though Locke is rather annoying, he is also very reliable and someone I’ve spent a lot of time with during my career, so his opinion does mean something to me. Something like that, if said by a stranger, would have stung but I could have let it roll off my shoulder. But hearing that come from someone like him, nearly broke my heart. It helps to know there’s people I care about that are rooting for us, but I can’t pretend like it doesn’t hurt knowing there’s people I care about that aren’t.”

“I wish you would not give a single care to that imbecile. He may be a close confidant but he knows nothing. In fact, it is a miracle I will not sentence him to death for high treason for such a thought”

“Kylo, please you cannot possibly think that way. It is unfair. People are allowed to have their own feelings. Besides, what happened to words only meaning something if you let it?”

“Do not be coy right now y/n,” he scoffs and looks at the desk in thought.

“Kylo, I don’t think Locke is someone we have to worry about. I have zero feelings for him and he knows that. And to be quite frank I think with time he would be receptive to us. But my reasoning in bringing that up is to emphasize the fact that we are trying to keep this under wraps but people are starting to figure it out and I’m not ready for that.” He looks at me in silence.

“I think you misjudged that commander. And at this point he deserves to know… to know that you will never belong to him.”

“Okay first of all, I will not belong to anyone but myself. And second of all, he can know in due time. In fact, if he wasn’t convinced somethings up before, I’m sure he will now that you decided to pay me a random unsolicited visit much like a lover would.”

“Oh, so this is somehow my fault? It’s my fault that your peers do not respect you?”

“What? That is not at all what I am trying to say,” I gasp. “All I want is for us to be more careful. I don’t want people to know about us just yet. And it’s not a lack of respect, Kylo. People can have opinions about others and still have respect for them.”

“Think what you want, but I have no intention of hiding this any longer.”

“Kylo, please.”

“Y/n, give me one reason why I should? Why should I have to hide my love for you? Why should I keep our relationship a secret from the rest of the galaxy? It kills me that I cannot show you off. I would be so proud for everyone in the galaxy to see us together, wouldn’t you?”

“Kylo, it’s not like I want to hide you… I just…”

“What? Are you embarrassed to be seen with me? Do you fear judgment from your peers at the disclosure of our relationship,” he asks and I shake my head furiously.

“Then what is it, y/n,” he roars. I bite my lip and blink my eyes rapidly. I bring my fingertips to my temple and lightly massage.

“Kylo, I just… If we were to be open, and–”

“If?”

“When… when… we move forward in that direction… people would see you as someone to admire. They would say the great emperor has finally found his empress. But they would see me as… a finesser. They would say oh her, yeah I heard she used to be some commander but I guess she figured it’d be easier to just sleep her way up to the top.” I meekly explained. He looks at me aghast.

“Y/n, you cannot possibly- Do you really expect people to react to us this way?” I nod and look down.

“Y/n you are absolutely amazing in your own right. Who in their right mind would ever attribute any of your accomplishments to anyone other than yourself?”

“Kylo, please do not be so naive.”

“Y/n, I simply refuse to believe that anyone would assume such a thing.”

“Well I think you’ve been sitting in the throne room for far too long to be able to say something like that.”

“Even if none of this ever happened, anyone who knows you could expect that you would have earned your way to a position comparable in rank. It seems like it is only a matter of time or opportunity,” he defends. 

He’s right. I make fun of Locke for wanting to be Supreme Leader, but my goals aren’t too far off. Being with Kylo, I fear I would be handed my place, when I so badly want to earn it. The prospect of being with him also frightens me because it is too early in our relationship to be thinking about being Empress. I’m still getting to know Kylo and figuring out what I want from this.

“It’s just a lot of pressure Kylo.”

“You think I don’t feel the pressure either? You think I don’t hear or care what people say. I know why I haven’t found my empress. I know there’s things about me that scare people away. But I also know that the time hasn’t been right because I haven’t found the right person, till you.”

I take a second to process his words but get interrupted but a knocking sound against my door. I look at Kylo and he immediately puts his helmet back on. I go over to answer the door and open it to General Hux.

“General Hux, what a pleasant surprise. Come on in. The Supreme Leader was just delivering an update from the Korr mission,” I lie.

“Oh, how peculiar. I just received notice from the Amian leader and was under the assumption that I was the first to find out. I meant to tell the Supreme Leader first but when I could not locate him, I figured the next best person to tell was you. No offense, sir,” he explains and Kylo nods as graciously as he can through his helmet.

“But now that we all know that the rebels have been evacuated from Korr and the base has been demolished, we can all rejoice,” Hux smiles and I smile nervously at Kylo. If we keep up being this peculiar, Hux’ll start to notice, if he hasn’t already. 

Would it be such a bad thing if people knew? I truly do not know. I think I’ve gotten to a point where I know I like Kylo, in fact, I might even love him, but I don’t think I’m ready for things around me to start changing just yet. Things just feel like they’re moving too fast right now and it’s hard to keep up. 

“Soon we will start working on a coordinated effort with the Amians to send First Order troops and establish a presence on Korr. In fact, just like Commander Y/n presumed, a few leaders from Planet Myr have heard of our developments and are interested in coordinating a similar proposition to that of Korr.”

“Congratulations Commander,” Kylo calmly encouraged.

“Yes indeed! A congratulations are in order Commander Y/n,” Hux adds.

“Thank you both. It is an honor to serve the First Order,” I meekly accept their praise with a curt bow of the head.

“That is not all young Commander. With such great news on progress in the planets of the Distal Region, be on the lookout for your next assignment… as vice admiral,” Hux cheers.

“What,” I ask with my eyes widened.

“Supreme Leader, Commander Y/n here is due for a promotion to captain within the next several weeks, but due to outstanding performance and recommendation from her leadership, she is being promoted ahead of schedule,” Hux exclaims and my heart sinks to my toes. I should be happy, in fact, elated about this but I only have Locke’s and Kylo’s words bubbling to the forefront of my brain.

It’s the promotion now, but soon enough Kylo’s going to want to go public. Then what will people say? What will people think? This is all moving too fast. 

“Congratulations Commander Y/n. You have earned it,” Kylo says, emphasizing the last part. I could kiss him for that.

“Indeed you are. Now, Supreme Leader, if you could please come with me, we have a minor situation in the L quadrant of the ship,” Hux states and whisks Kylo away, leaving me alone in my office with a brain full of whizzing thoughts. I try to calm my racing heartbeat and shaky breath but nothing will do. 

I tell one of my peers that I am taking off for the day early and head straight to my quarters. I change into an outfit suitable for activity and make a beeline for the training room. I immediately start running and run until I can no longer think. I run till all I can focus on is my breathing and the accumulating feeling of fatigue. After I run, I go into a room for combat training. A professional trainer sees me and offers to spar. He hands me a spare lightsaber and soon we battle. I twist and turn my body clashing my saber against his. I raise my arms high and low reaching for all pockets of air. I grunt and I scream at every collision. I kneel and jump and jerk my body in all directions. I feel the sweat adorn every inch of my skin. I fight until I can’t fight anymore.

“Good job, today. You fought really well, you should be proud,” the trainer says to me and it pierces my heart more than the praise of the two most prominent men in my world. I instantly feel my eyes watering and my face heating up and I run out of the training room and head straight for my quarters. I spot Locke and Neela and instantly alter my path to avoid them. 

Once in my quarters I strip my clothing and glide to my en suite refresher. I spend an infinite amount of time embraced by the scalding water. It soothes my mind, body, and soul. By the time I finish bathing, I’m far too exhausted to even leave my room for dinner. But I don’t care. I trudge to my bed and flop onto it. I pull the cover over me and turn on my side. 

Today was insane. It was ludicrous. I don’t know where I stand with Kylo anymore and I don’t know what’s going to happen next. It’s too many unknown variables at play all at the same time. I don’t know what I want from him anymore. I don’t even know what I want for myself anymore. Ugh this is all too much. Maybe I just need to go to sleep, and things will make more sense in the morning.

-------------------------------------------------------

Taglist:  @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange​ @asherrenwrites @g-l-pierce @livi-s @gruffle1 @mssbridgerton @dark-night-sky-99 @adaodinson @thefireoflust @pineapplechuncks @sarah5462​ @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny​ @would-not-recommend @karina-v20 @hueanhdang

[ayamturd]

kid│technoblade

summary: (requested) an errand run forces techno out of the house; he meets an interesting kid in return

warnings: brief injury description, hinted abandonment, light angst and fluff

pairing: in-game platonic!technoblade

a/n: i took this request and ran so far with it lol. pls enjoy, i loved the reader’s dynamic with techno sm

wc: (4.0k) - m.list

It was hot, the day smothering in the summer heat as the village offered little coverage to the harsh sun. From exploring the lands of the Arctic to walking in the crowded space on the sweltering landscape, Technoblade let out a sigh from how his layered clothing stuck to him; his regal attire was more than slightly uncomfortable and was arguably only for looks then and there. 

Glancing down to the list in his hands once more, he grumbled from the tasks, supplies and ingredients he still needed, openly irritated from being forced on the supply run. Real funny Phil. Hilarious.

He scratched his head, lost to the busy market place as many shoved past him in the busy rush. Technoblade was a warrior, the Blood God, he was someone to be feared and feel threatened by, yet at that very moment he couldn’t be anything less than a lost tourist. 

Technoblade rarely ventured to extremely public places, but he knew he couldn’t return empty handed, the underwhelming mockery he would receive would be just plain annoying. 

With a final sigh of defeat, he decided it best to take each task step by step, that starting with the blacksmith. Now, make no question that Technoblade and Phil weren’t not capable of crafting their own weapon, but at times, the cost of another’s opinion did more help than that of personalized wants. 

It was even hotter once he entered the open store, the burning furnace emitting an almost intolerable intensity that rivaled the burning cold of the Arctic. Rolling his neck, he approached the front desk and unsheathed both Phil’s and his long swords, tossing a small pouch with a chink as payment for restorations and commendations.

Speaking few words in the villager’s tongue, the worker immediately began his assessment when taking the weapons in hand. Techno knew little in the different language, but he understood when the man explained the necessary works and time expectancy. 

He sighed for what felt to be his 15th time that afternoon, but complied when leaning against the counter for the next few minutes; he refused to leave his best weaponry in the hands of a stranger, and would do with the wait until then. 

Picking on the crusted mud that hardened on his fur coat, he jumped when someone slammed into the wood he leaned against, eyes dropping to meet the height of a young adolescent.

Unlike himself, they seemed dressed for the sweltering heat. Their cloak hung loosely from their shoulders, but was bare and thin, either from time or was purposeful from the climate, it was his guess. While they seemed as energetic as someone their age should be, he could tell from experience of the way they stood tall with their chin held high that they were a fighter, someone who seemed cautious of their surroundings by the constant shift in their eyes. 

He also knew they noticed him but was purposefully choosing to ignore him for whatever reason, he couldn’t tell. Coughing, he went back to his useless fiddling. 

They tapped anxiously, their fingers twitching while they looked longingly to the nearest axes, an overwhelming sense of excitement filling the stuffy air. While he tried to ignore them considering how little they could stand still irritated him, he couldn’t deny that they intrigued him. 

“Helloooooooo?” they called out, jumping above the counter and holding themself up with their arms stiff in strength. Techno waited a brief moment while they began yelling louder before rolling his eyes to interrupt them.

“They’re busy right now. Give it a minute, will you?”

His monotoned voice caused them to freeze, and as they slowly turned to meet the sight of him, a huge grin grew on their face. It made his frown grow in return. 

“A minute can be so long in silence, I’m only making it go faster.” Techno scoffed at their words and fully turned his body towards them. His genetics made him tower over them even when slouched, yet while he knew others would cower, the child in front of tilted their head in amusement. 

“By what logic does that make any sense?”

The mischievous teenager followed Technoblade’s posture, mimicking his stance with crossed arms. They jutted their chin out proudly, though it was obvious they were only messing with him further.

“My logic, obviously.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s yours, doesn’t make it right.”

With an annoying quirk of a smile, the small human smirked with feigned innocent eyes.

“Says who?”

Knowing full well that it would a battle in vain, Techno conceded and faced the front desk again, his arms resting against the table as he hung his head down with a huff of air. 

His considered defeat made the young stranger laugh lightly, and they copied his position, but instead held their head in their palms with a small hum. Staring at him intensely, their head rocked in thought for some time before they spoke up. 

“You look miserable.”

It took Techno a large amount of willpower to prevent himself from glaring in their direction, something the child took as a challenge. They filled the silence when Techno left it unattended, leaning closer to him while still in place. 

“I mean, the outfit is sick, I won’t lie. But you just look awful right now. How many layers do you have on anyway?”

Once more, he had to clench his fist tightly to drown out their bothersome questions. The child, as he now deemed it considering how persistent it could be, noted his subtle tensing and bit their lip to smother another coming giggle. 

“Is your crown real? Are you actually royalty? Am I expected to bow in honor or respect? I’m terrible with conversation-“

“So I’ve noticed.” Techno dryly stated, his hand coming to rub the back of his head, exasperated, with a shake. They completely disregard his side comment like he never spoke. 

“-but I never though I’d live to see the day I interact with royalty.”

“I’m not royal, I’m anythin’ but.” Techno’s voice dropped when considering the matter, his narrowed eyes in concentration against his constant fight for Anarchy and destruction. 

His seriousness created a beat of silence in the shop, though without fail, the teenager overlooked his internal monologue.

“Do you have a long, fancy name with numbers and stuff? Like ‘King George the First' or ‘Their majesty, Alas-’”

“No."

“But what about-”

Techno’s groan cut their next range of questions off, and he pushed himself up to stare them down tiredly. 

“You’re a pretty annoyin’ kid, you know that?”

Sitting up when he did, the teen jumped onto the counter backwards, swinging their legs on the edge while gripping the border tightly. They rested their chin on their shoulder with an eased smile as they now matched his height. 

“So I’ve been told.”

The approaching footsteps from the back entry caused the both of them to turn their heads, the young stranger facing to him while Techno’s gaze still remained. 

“But you can’t deny it, I made time go faster.”

Hopping off before they could be scolded, the blacksmith returned with the weapons’ adjustments and the requested engravings Phil asked for, drawing Techno’s attention away from the young stranger. He opened the cloth the worker brought the swords out in, and lifted his own while gripping the grained handle tightly.

Stepping away from the counter, he swung the blade in front of him, tossing it briefly as to adjust to its weight and consider its balance. The wind it generated in the slices of air brought a dark smile to his face. Satisfied with the result, Techno inspected the finer details up close a final time before sheathing it to his side. 

As he went to grab Phil’s, he caught the teen’s awed gape. He chuckled from their open amazement and moved to walk towards the displayed axes behind them. 

“What’s your name, kid?” With his back to them, he reached his hand outward to the various blade sizes, hovering over the edges with careful pressure. 

His question visibly threw them off, and they stuttered before gathering themself. 

“What’s yours?” they asked, eyebrows raised in defense. Techno felt the corner of his mouth lift from their faltering. 

“Technoblade.” He was patient as they swallowed before responding. 

“Y/n.”

Unclasping a light, yet deadly thin battle-blade axe from the wall, Techno eventually turned around to meet them again.  

“No last name?” 

While they smiled, it didn’t reach their eyes as they glanced away with a careless shrug. No origin or proper upbringing, he assumed.

“Never came up with one. Never needed one.”

“Hmm.”

Lifting the axe in hand, Techno gestured to the empty baldric that wrapped tightly around their chest. By their longing stares and stance as a fighter, it didn’t take much to make the connection that they were someone who fought with an axe. 

“What happened to the last one?”

Surprised by his close observation, they brought their hands to the bare hold as if they were searching for it. Unlike the past few minutes in his company, they suddenly became shy and spoke with a guilty smile. 

“O-oh. I, uh, chipped the blade. Wore it down. It’s been a while since I was able to treat myself, I thought it was finally worth the wait to get a new one.”

Shifting on their feet, they grasped one of their arms awkwardly. Despite their previously loud, outward energy, Techno sighed once he saw them as the kid they were; they were someone alone that was forced to survive in the big world, someone he could relate and understand. 

After a moment passed, Techno faced the worker. They had been watching their interaction the entire time and seemed as uncomfortable as they were bored. Without asking for a price, he wordlessly pulled out a handful of emeralds from his drop leg pouch and slammed them on the table surface. 

The blacksmith made sounds of gurgled delight, gathering the gems into his opens hands with furious nods in thanks. Techno only rolled his eyes and shoved the purchased axe forwards, leaving it open in his outreached hands to the child. 

“Save your money. It’s not worth any price they try to sell.”

Switching their sights from the weapon and Technoblade in disbelief, they breathlessly giggled when carefully lifting it from his hold. 

Twirling it easily before striking near the ground, the pulled the new beauty to their chest gratefully. They were at a loss for words, to say the least, and Techno laughed from their frozen shock.

His laughter died down and he decided to take his leave in quick steps. While the teen tried to shout to him in thanks, they were still dazed and couldn’t form words to yell. 

Techno paused at the entrance and dipped his head back, his hand bordering the door frame. He grinned slightly to the point where his sharper canines were visible, and called out to them in departure.

“See you around, kid.”

Bow raised, arrow drawn, Techno crept low on the forest ground with cautious and calculated steps. 

The overgrown leaves above provided a gentle shading that shielded the majority of the sunlight, only few splotches breaking through. It had been too long since Techno went hunting, the sport lost to him since his recent adventures and scenery in the very south. 

As he had been traveling for days on end to meet with his brothers’ call, he thought to gather food and see through with his lost skill; he had devoted a majority of his time in peaceful solitude to farming and raising cattle, he wasn’t as skillful as he used to be. 

Keeping that in mind, as his eyes narrowed from the close rustling of a bush before him and he approached meaningfully, he failed to noticed the grown roots that broke through the dirt. 

With a small yelp, his foot became stuck and he fell hard onto his face.

A small rabbit hopped out of the shrubbery and stopped briefly near him as if in mockery to his embarrassing failure before bouncing away. 

Technoblade groaned, both from pain and the circumstances, and gave up any hope for moving in shame when the voices began to mock him. 

“Well that wasn’t very royal of you.”

While his memory failed him more often than not, he recognized the voice specifically over the chaos that reigned in his ears. Contemplating the next-least humiliating course of actions, he settled on pretending nothing happened. 

“Like I said the last time,” he sighed while pushing himself up, “I’m not royalty.”

Brushing off the dirt that stained his clothes and skin, Techno turned to the child’s voice and jerked startled when their entertained countenance was closer than what he expected. They were hanging upside down with their legs hooked on a low, but sturdy branch. 

Face smug, they crossed their arms and openly snickered. 

“Agreed, you are far less graceful than what I expect them to be.”

Techno shook his head and searched for his bow, the old relic more traditional and practical in comparison to his crossbow for hunting. He hummed when spotting it and tried to shift the conversation.��

“What are you doin’ out here, kid?”

Pulling themself up in a sitting position, they swung their feet wildly and looked around the woodlands with a shrug. 

“I live here.”

Freezing mid crouch with his bow in hand, Techno’s words were slow following after. 

“Out here?”

“Mhmm.”

There was a pause as Techno looked at them confused. His brows furrowed fro their vague input. 

“In the trees?”

“Sometimes,” they sang. Leaping forward, they landed smoothly onto their feet and raised their eyes to the sky. “It depends on my mood, and whether or not I want to see the stars.”

“Ah.”

With that, Techno turned and started to walk away. His hunting attempt was a mistake that cost him a bullying teenager that apparently lived in the woods and was homeless, the voices adding onto his internal torment; he wanted to leave as fast as he could.

Racing their steps ahead of him, y/n began to walk backwards to address him directly. 

“Why are you here? I assume you don’t live near here since you dress like an old, aristocratic woman with modesty insecurities.”

Techno looked ahead without faltering considering their playful jab, and they tried for an answer again. 

“Plus you haven’t been around for weeks.”

Steps slowing, Techno was genuinely surprised to hear their observation and glanced at them with an inclined head tilt. 

“You looked for me?”

Caught in their own web, y/n timorously avoided his stare. 

“The town’s always busy with newcomers, travelers, royalty,” they emphasized with a pointed look at him, “trust me when I say you stick out like a sore thumb. Your turn.”

Nodding from their reasonable, but untrue explanation, it was Techno’s turn to glance away while formulating a response. 

“I’ve been… uh, explorin’, you could say.”

In a paralleling manner, they copied his previous nod despite their skepticism. 

“I see. And now?”

“Now I’m visitin’ an old friend, old relations.”

“Ahhh. Girlfriend?”

Technoblade stopped walking altogether and incredulity gawked at them. 

“What?”

“Boyfriend?” y/n continued, now turning with their back facing him. Techno rushed to meet there stride and spoke down to them.

“No, stop it.”

Hand to their chin, they pretended to reach another revelation with wide eyes. 

“Ohh I get it now, distant family.”

“You can be quiet now,” Techno grumbled. Smacking his forehead, he rubbed it exasperated while their joy became evident in their cheerful tone.  

“Are they misunderstanding?” the teen asked, their cheeks flushed excitedly from his apparent discomfort. “Is it the person-friend they don’t approve of?”

“I’m leaving now.” Techno hurried his pace as to leave the forest ground.

“They rude? Unbearable? Selfish? Annoying?”

“You know what,” he stated, spinning to them to clarify since they had stopped walking entirely behind him, “yes.”

“Ooo which one?”

“Annoyin’, and you remind me so much of them.”

The trees were now clear as the plains had become more visible during their trek. Strapping the long, recurve barbow over his head and around his chest, Techno thought the exchange done and allowed the sun to bask over him. 

Before he could make his way to his camp, their voice yelled out to him. 

“Aww that’s sweet!”

Perplexed to how anything of what he said could be seen as ‘sweet’, his curiosity got the better of him and he turned again. 

“You consider me like family? I’m touched!”

Eyes narrowed, Techno bowed his head it defeat once again. He could never win with them, could he?

“‘kay, I’m done with this. Goodbye.”

Y/n waved avidly with a wide grin in spite of him not looking. 

“See you around, Sir Blade!”

“You should consider yourself lucky.”

The stillness was deafening. Regardless of the wind that howled outside and forced the shudders to rattle upon constant impact, or the fire the lit the room bright in heat and warm tone color, the quiet was tense when y/n awoke in Techno’s house. 

“I saw the smoke burn miles out. Had the wind changed its course, I would have never noticed.”

As his back was turned to them, Techno pulled the cork from his most recent regeneration brew and poured it briskly into a small mug, its small rippling sound overtaking the room. With a plate of bread he prepared beforehand, he finally addressed them with the sustenance in hand. 

Y/n was completely engulfed in the large bedding they rested in, Techno’s bedding. Their arms were wrapped tightly with gauze that covered their forearms all the way to their chest. Eyes sunken and dark, they squinted heavily from recently awakening with ashen hair that matted to their face. 

“Is everyone alright?” they asked, voice faint yet rough from the intense smoke inhalation and damage they sustained in the event. Coughing from speaking for the first time, Techno was quick to hand them the potion. 

They downed the drink voraciously, and he decided to speak while they ate. 

“Everyone that managed to escape, probably. But those that did fled long before I arrived.”

Glancing at down at them, Techno could only sigh at the sight. They were so small under his gaze, and he shifted his attention to the nearest wall with crossed arms. 

“It’s one thing to help others, it’s another when takin’ on a raid by yourself.”

His pointed comment caused them to snap and try to defend themself, however, they moved to suddenly and winced from the slight movement. Despite his frown, Techno’s hands were raised gently with concerned eyes from their evident pain. 

Breathing in and out harshly, they were still hunched over when they glared up at him in anguish. 

“You didn’t hear them scream, you didn’t hear them yell for mercy. You weren’t there, but I was. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing.” Their voice cracked near the end, and with vast tears that escaped, a broken sob filled the space as they hid their face ashamed. 

Techno was at a loss when comforting others, but he wasn’t a jerk to ignore someone after surviving a tragic incident, one they tried to fight yet lost to. 

Slowly, he moved to sit on the bed side. He clenched his fist shut in hesitance, but steadily, he hovered his hand over them before stroking their back reassuringly. 

“Listen, kid,” pausing, Techno caught himself and cleared his throat, “Y/n, I know you barely know anything about me but trust me. I understand how it feels, how it must’ve felt then to be overwhelmed by sudden cries that surround you to the point that you make rash decisions. Trust me when I say I get it.”

Their cries died down from his words, and he spoke earnestly as they listened more closely in smothered hiccups. 

“I respect what you tried to do in the end, but you have to be self aware that you’re still just a kid.”

His blunt statement made them freeze, and when the fully processed what he said, they dropped their hands to scowl at him incredulously. Their red eyes are hard and made him laugh from his lack of explanation to his true meaning. 

“Hey, I never said it was the age that was at fault.”

Pulling his arms away, he grasped his hands together and rested his elbows to his knees, though his focus was still on them. 

“You’re young, and young means inexperienced. Give yourself some leeway and accept your limits that come with time.”

They looked down from his attentive eyes, but still nodded when understanding his perspective. 

Rubbing the bottom of his chin with the back of his hand, Techno attempted to further the conversation amiably. He was out of his depth socially, but he was trying for their sake. 

“Besides all that, I have to say you can definitely fight.” Their eyes shot up to meet his, the acclaim unexpected. Their face was too emotionally soft for Techno to look at, so he turned away before speaking with a joking smirk. 

“Though I’m not too sure about your close combat.”

Gawking at the audacity, y/n lightly smacked his arm and scoffed. A smile crept on their face as they shook their head from the backhanded compliment. 

“You try training with a tree, they don’t always fight back.”

His snicker grew from their weak justification, and eventually, they joined his laughing fit. Helpless giggles replaced the once solemn air. While it soon died down, the elation of each other’s company still remained. 

Techno rose from the soft mattress and crossed his arms loosely in thought. With a single nod, his monotoned voice encouraged them considerately.

“Get some rest, we can talk later.”

Like his past departures, his steps were fast and large as he moved to exit. His hand pulled the door with him, but a shy call of his name stopped him from closing it fully shut.

“Technoblade.”

His head peaked from behind the wooden door and was met with soft eyes that expressed more gratitude than words could convey. 

“Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, kid.”

Bonus:

Shutting the door gently, Techno walked into the kitchen space with a sigh. He rubbed his eyes from the hours he spent watching them unconscious after tending to them, and heeded the voices’ command for food (real food for once, not blood).

He leisurely approached the pantry, and without turning to address him, spoke lowly.

“Not a single, word.”

Phil lowered the book in his hand and raised a hand defensively with a shrug. He was sat in the living room, obscured in the large armchair from the kitchen; Techno was aware of his presence, however, and knew of his routine.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Phil called out, though Techno was quick to respond. 

“Phil, you are the least stealthy person on this planet.”

“No, no, I’m serious. I have nothing to say.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, Techno murmured a sure and moved to the front door, an apple in one hand and bag full of produce tucked in his other arm. He stated that he was going check on the animals and slammed the door close harshly.

Moments passed as Phil sat in silence, save for the crackling fire that roared beside him, before speaking as if he could still hear him. 

“To think, I sent you to the store and you brought back a kid.”

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Serenade (Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu/Reader Rating: T for teen for mild language. Later entries in the series will be more mature though, just a heads up Warnings: None this chapter. There will probably be canon typical violence/blood mentioned or referenced in future chapters though, cuz, ya know, vampire ladies? Notes: No beta reader, we die like Ethan Winters’ hands (repeatedly, and with odd frequency)

Chapter 1: Nocturne

     Of all the tasks assigned to you, none were as bittersweet as that of dusting Lady Dimitrescu’s piano. Years ago, before you had been shuffled off to a remote European village, before you had been roughly snatched from your home, before… this, you had been taught to play music. From a young age it brought you comfort, entertained you on quiet days, and even made you your fair share of friends. Though you had experimented with a handful of instruments, none felt more natural than piano. Leaving your family’s heirloom piano behind was one of the hardest things you had ever had to do. 

     Until you arrived at Castle Dimitrescu, at least. Sweat often dropped off your brow as you spent endless hours scrubbing floors, carrying baskets of clothes or mysterious parcels of meat up and down flights of stairs, rushing to and fro rooms across the estate. Physical labor was no stranger to you, but no employer had ever been as demanding as those you now served. Hence part of why you always breathed a sigh of relief when you were chosen to dust the piano. It was hardly a demanding task, even when you had to take care not to accidentally let the keys make any noise. No one was allowed to play it without permission (and that was never given).

     Which brought you an aching sensation at the core of your chest, balled up alongside past regrets, a hundred million thoughts of alternative realities where you didn’t hurt so much. There was no point in imagining what choices might have saved you from your fate… and yet you did so anyway. Sometimes you thought about barricading yourself in the room, just so you could play a couple songs, even if it would guarantee you a painful death. But you could never bring yourself to willingly disobey Lady Dimitrescu; not when you had heard the wails and screams of Maidens a few floors below.

     Yes, you would never willingly, knowingly do such. That wasn’t to say you were incapable of mistakes. No, you weren’t that fortunate. It was such a simple error, really, just a misjudgment of the cloth held between your fingers. Your hand slipped. That was all. But that slip led to an accidental press of a key- f#, if you heard right- that sounded throughout the room with damning clarity. Just like that, you felt the pitiful thing you called life shatter to pieces on the floor. Inside your chest your heart started to pound, a metronome speeding this performance along to its end.

     Had you not been paralyzed with dread, you might have accepted your fate with enough grace to sit down, play those last few tunes like you had daydreamed about so many times. But you didn’t, couldn’t. All you felt you could do was strain your ears and listen for the impending sounds of angry footsteps.

     Instead your concentration was interrupted by a door flying open, hitting the wall with a slam you knew would leave a dent, as a swarm of insects burst in. Nearly jumping out of your skin you put a hand to your chest, half expecting not to feel a heartbeat anymore. The rhythm was off, for sure, and it skipped a beat when the swarm surged together to form a somewhat familiar figure: Daniela Dimitrescu. Leaning against the piano, one hand bracing against it, the woman pretended to examine her sickle, idly twisting it back and forth in her hand. When she spoke, she didn’t even bother to glance in your direction.

     “I never understood why mother dedicated a whole room to this,” she muses, casually inclining her head towards the piano. “It’s not like any of our instructors lasted very long. Why not let this gather dust with the rest of the useless junk somewhere upstairs?” There’s a pause, and for a moment you mentally debate whether or not you’re supposed to respond. Apparently not, as Daniela soon turns to you and speaks more directly, which is grand, really, as your tongue felt as if it was glued to the roof of your mouth. “Maybe she knew someday someone would come along to serenade us. And you clearly know how to play, otherwise you wouldn’t have dared to make a sound.”

     Stepping forward, she extends a gloved hand, cupping your chin so gently that you almost couldn’t feel her touch. Her gaze, however, was dangerously intense, unblinking, and filled with far less joy than her grin would suggest. The touch lasts only a few seconds. Just long enough to leave you shaking with anticipation. Daniela’s toothy smile only widens as she backs up, keeping her eyes on you even as she reclines into a chair in the corner of the room. You almost wished she would just get it over with and kill you. Whatever she had in mind would be worse in the end, yes? 

     “Well? Aren’t you going to play for me? Show me how much you love me? I don’t have all night,” Daniela says expectantly. She’s relaxed fully, sitting with one leg crossed over the other, spine pressed up against the back of the chair, but she hasn’t set her sickle down. There’s a clear threat in the way she holds it, grip tight enough to let you know that she’s still ready (and itching) to use it.

     You couldn’t help but wonder if she’d be acting differently if she knew that you did, in fact, know how to play. Was this just a teasing start to your punishment? Or was there a part of her genuinely interested in hearing music? Obviously you hoped for the latter. Hell, you practically prayed for it as you slowly pulled out the piano bench, awkwardly sat down, and urged your body to remember a song. What genre would a vampire from the 1950’s even enjoy? All you knew were bits and pieces of a few classics, a couple chord progressions from early 2000’s hits, and a handful of songs you had written yourself.

     There wasn’t much time to ponder, not with Daniela’s gaze burning a whole in the side of your head. So you simply pressed your fingers to the keys, took a deep breath, and let muscle memory take over. Your eyes became half lidded as you started to play, hardly paying attention to what you were doing. It felt like a single glance at your captor would result in the worst case of stage fright known to mankind. Instead you focused on the piano’s wooden frame, and the many grain marks twisting within.

     All the while your fingers glided over the keys, delicately pressing here and there, starting with something simple. Little more than a chord on your left hand, followed with a few short notes on your right, repeating in different places up and down the scale. It was almost a test, a gentle showing to see what Daniela would do. You still refused to look at her, even when you heard what sounded like a bored sigh. A knot tied itself in your stomach, and you gulped, before you shifted mental gears. Evidently “soft and simple” wasn’t going to cut it. Hopefully you could please one Lady without earning the ire of any of the others.

     So you paused, letting the notes suspend in the air for a moment, and came back swinging. The kiddy gloves were off, abandoned on the floor with your sense of caution. Grander things came back to mind as your fingers danced atop the keys, stretching chords and melodies alongside each other, the best of what you recalled pouring out of you without a sign of stopping. Out of the corner of your eyes you saw Daniela sit up, paying more attention then she had at the start. Confidence found itself growing at the center of your chest, and it managed to turn your lips up into a smile. How long had it been since you had been able to perform like this? Years? A decade, even? You didn’t know. It didn’t matter.

     Minutes passed by like this, with your hands moving constantly, even as your gaze never shifted. It was heaven channeled on Earth. Whatever was to come after, death or dismemberment, you couldn’t care less. Let them take your blood, your life. They could never take this music from your mind, from your memories, or the joy it inspired in you. If you were to die soon, at least you had been given one last soliloquy.

     Eventually the song had to end. It was a bitter moment, one you dreaded for its followup, but otherwise would have found pride in. After all, you were evidently the first maiden to give a performance (at least of this variety) to one of the Dimitrescu sisters! Certainly that was an accomplishment? Maybe your brain would let you celebrate later… assuming you survived. Daniela had stayed quiet since her earlier sigh, letting you play on without interruption thus far. Now that the song was over you didn’t know what to expect. Knowing Daniela, or at least knowing the rumors surrounding you, it was hard to imagine that anything you could expect would be accurate.

     “How long have you been hiding this little talent of yours?” She coos, clapping her hands together with a short giggle. So far so good, you thought, clinging desperately to hope. Once more she rose to her feet, moving so smoothly she might as well have been gliding, and ended up by your side. This time her hand rested on your shoulder, putting enough pressure to keep you from moving. “Don’t tell me you’re shy, that would simply be too… precious.” With that said her hand trails along your shoulder, across your collarbone, up your neck, then rests for a moment on your cheek. The touch sends a shiver down your spine, which only encourages Daniela, and she tucks a strand of your hair behind her ear.

     Before she can say more, or you could even attempt to form words, there’s the faint sound of someone yelling in the distance. A name, you think, although it’s not loud enough for you to make out who’s being called. The answer becomes evident soon enough, however, as Daniela pulls back from you suddenly, smile trading out for a scowl. Some part of you instantly misses her touch, leaving the rest of you confused more than anything.

     “Get back to your work, then,” Daniela says, roughly, the playfulness in her voice now entirely absent. It was such a sudden change in demeanor that you didn’t know how to react. Thankfully her eyes were no longer on you, and she was already moving towards the door. Had you really managed to play your way out of a punishment? You knew for a fact that at least one other maiden had lost her life for making the same mistake you did, yet now Daniela looks ready to leave without so much as a slap on the wrist. But she does pause in the doorway, as if reading your thoughts, and throws you a look over her shoulder. Her eyes narrow for a split second before she gives you one last wicked grin. “Don’t worry, sweet thing, I won’t forget you anytime soon.”

     Just like that she was gone, into a cloud of insects, out the door and into the corridor beyond. The tension in the room had left, you could finally breathe easy… and yet still your mind was racing. Those words she had left you with- were they a threat? Or a promise of something softer? Only time would tell.

[yannowhatigiveup]

Day 1: Grumpy Cat

I really wanted to do every prompt that was available, but the world hates me so if I miss a prompt it’s usually because I ran out of time, or I didn’t do enough research. They’re all going to be short too, so, yeah. Anyway, I just wanted to participate for fun!

Language Warning

Damian ran a hand through his hair, regretting almost every decision that lead him to this moment.

“Are you sure you have no idea where he is?” Damian asked the other kwamis. Sass flew up next to him.

“Afraid not, Damian.” The snake kwami answered. The boy sighed and turned around to go look for the missing kwami.

“We can help you.” Wayzz offered as he flew in front of the boy. Damian froze in place, not letting his emotions appear on his face.

“Thank you for offering but your help is not required, I shall retrieve him myself.” Damian spoke to the turtle kwami. “And if any of you were to be discovered by my family, I’m afraid of what fate might await me when your guardian returns.” The other kwamis nodded and flew back into one of his secret drawers. Damian sighed as he left his room, walking down the stairs to the living room which was, thankfully, empty.

Marinette had Guardian training in the temple, one that required her absolute concentration. Damian had offered to look after the rest of the kwamis while she was at the temple, most of his family were out so keeping them a secret would’ve been easy, except some of them had returned earlier without the boy’s knowledge, making the simple task quite the challenge.

“I swear to you Bruce, there’s something going on.” Damian froze at the sound of Drake’s voice. Acting on impulse, Damian pressed himself against the wall in the dark, attempting to ease drop on the conversation.

“I have to agree with Replacement on this one.” Todd’s voice. “I put my book down for a second and when I went to pick it up again, it just disappeared! I checked the security cameras and shit, and the book floated away.” Damian tensed, that was guaranteed to be Plagg’s doing.

“Floated?” his father’s voice was that of disbelief.

“Yes B, it floated. Fucking floated.” Todd seemed shocked himself, from what Damian could hear. There was a small pause. “See? Even Cass agrees!” That small silence must have been Cass nodding.

“I’m sure there’s a logical reason-“

“A logical reason? Really Bruce?” Drake’s voice interrupted his father. Damian ran his hand through his hair, again, and walked towards the kitchen. He had to find that kwami. The boy entered the kitchen and, much to his surprise, Alfred was there, seemingly waiting for him.

“Ah, Master Damian, I was looking for you.” The old man walked to the boy, a smile present on his face.

“Did you need my, Pennyworth?” Damian asked, being polite in an attempt to hide his desperation.

“I just believed that this-“ Alfred handed him something. “-would be of assistance.” And with that the man left, leaving the teen confused until he looked down at what was on the plate.

“Camembert…” Damian muttered in surprise. “How did he-“ A dark blur phased through the wall.

“Camembert! My love! Oh how I’ve searched for you!” The kwami spoke to the piece of stinky cheese. Damian furrowed his brows and pulled the plate away. “Hey!”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Damian hissed. “My family have noticed that something’s off, what if they saw you?”

Plagg didn’t look too bothered. “I can’t be seen or recorded through human technology, I don’t see the problem. And even if they do see me, without evidence, who’s going to believe them?”

“If it were someone like Drake, they’ll believe him.” He pointed out.

“Well what else am I supposed to do? You can’t expect me to stay locked up in your room when there’s a whole manor at my disposal.” Plagg crossed his little arms, glaring at the teen in front of him.

“Next time you pull something like this, I’ll skin you alive.” Damian half-heartedly warned the kwami, a smile threatening to appear.

Plagg playfully put on a grumpy expression. “You wouldn’t dare. I’m your favourite, don’t even try to lie.” Damian rolled his eyes and gave Plagg the camembert.

“I’ll stop giving you camembert from now on.” He put the plate in the sink and walked at out of the kitchen. Plagg gasped dramatically.

Plagg shouted as he followed Damian back to his bedroom. “You don’t mean that right? Damian? Kid why are you walking away- Wait! I promise I’ll be good from now on! Please! Damian! I’m sorry, don’t take my precious camembert!”

@maribat-calendar-events

[vvienne]

XICHENG FIC RECS

hold my hands by Snooze (Chiruka)

Transplanting a core into a new person isn’t without repercussions. One year after the events at Guanyin Temple, Jiang Cheng found himself once again faced with the possibility of losing everything he had. Reconciling with his brother, learning to let Jin Ling go, and dealing with his blooming emotions toward the First Jade of Gusu — will Jiang Cheng accomplish what he wants before time runs out?

it all passes someday by screamlet

A week before the anniversary of Wei Wuxian’s death, there was a commotion outside Lan Wangji’s house.

*

Jiang Cheng and Lan Wangji over the years.

The Unlikely Expression of Love by manamune

When everything has settled, when everyone else has moved on with their lives and their friends, Jiang Cheng has a realization which shouldn’t actually be a surprise:

He’s lonely.

Indigo, lavender, and violet (I don't wanna be red) by ohwhatevrewhatevr

It, in the pale colors of the late morning, is the closest to perfect Jiang Cheng will ever reach. He strokes Lan XiChen's hair and presses a light kiss to where his ribbon and hair meet. The sky is a pale blue, and the pastels of flowers and clouds are spread out through the window, a brilliant world waiting for them, them in the gentian house, safe from stronger breezes - there is the clutter of birds fluttering and chirping outside. It is a warm, perfect, spring morning.

Jiang Cheng and Lan XiChen have been together for an year. In which, no one ever really gets over things, Jiang Cheng has the misfortune of interacting with his brother, the juniors help out with the proposal, and there's a marriage.

Altitude by starknjarvis 

When Jin Ling lures Jiang Cheng to the Cloud Recesses under false pretenses, he finds himself out of place among this new family Wei Wuxian has formed.

Lan Xichen, at least, seems pleased to have his company.

Perhaps there is still a chance for Jiang Cheng to make amends and move forward.

[Modao Zushi Online] GLITCH REPORT: My Brother Got Chased Down And %$@*$&@ By Gusu Dungeon Boss??? by oh_fudgecakes

Modao Zushi Online is a virtual reality MMORPG. Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian are top ranking players in its new server, currently tied with their arch-nemesis from their previous server, Wen Chao. In an attempt to defeat him, they take on the Gusu Dungeon Boss, Zewu-jun, to win the reward of a legendary weapon. Ever the cheat, Wei Wuxian tries to take advantage of a glitch to defeat the seemingly undefeatable boss. It backfires. Jiang Cheng gets fucked by a boss monster.

He can't get enough.

Meanwhile, Lan Xichen, the unwitting staff member in charge of controlling Zewu-jun, absolutely did not sign up to be pulled into a secret virtual reality fling with a player. Mod Ji, who has to deal with Wei Wuxian's incessant glitch reporting of his brother's sex life, is long-suffering.

Mulberry by xxdz

Jiang Cheng grits his teeth and pushes harder. He feels like torn silk, the embroidery needle sinking in again and again and again; patiently, desperately, endlessly trying to make something beautiful out of something broken.

Jiang Cheng builds his sect, learns embroidery, and raises his nephew.

we can raise a little family by lanyon

“Well, brother,” says Wei Wuxian, leaning against the outside of Jiang Cheng’s chambers. “I had heard that you and Xichen went on a night hunt and came back with a baby, which is not the order I’d choose to do things in…”

In which Jiang Cheng and Lan Xichen acquire a baby of unknown origin, and are the very last to know what it means.

Beyond the Impossible by Silverine

Summoned by Lan Qiren, Jiang Wanyin goes to the Cloud Recesses to drop his nephew Jin Ling, expecting to discuss relevant matters with his old master. Instead, he's asked to take with him no other than Sect Leader Lan himself, all the way back to Lotus Pier. If the reason why he accepted such an outrageous task is indeed a mystery, he's about to be surprised by how this entire trip, their encounters, and his warm company, suddenly feel fated.

Incrementally by xxdz

Jiang Cheng is trapped in a day on repeat where he begins by waking in Zewu Jun’s bed at dawn and ends by dying painfully at dusk.

It’s getting very irritating, and he has the sneaking suspicion that his chances to solve his own murder are rapidly running out. Soon, his death will be much more permanent.

All in all, worst birthday ever.

Audience of One by WinterDreams

“Then let an established star go first,” Lan Xichen interrupts again before Lan Wangji can give a stubborn reply. Both men twist toward Lan Xichen, and he smiles at Wei Wuxian’s tilted head. “If I publicly date a man for awhile first, your engagement shouldn’t receive as much backlash.”

Or, that AU where everyone is famous in some way or another, Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji have been dating in private for years, and Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng pretend to date publicly for their brothers' sake.

A Bit of Ruthlessness by jirluvien

When Jiang Cheng hears that Lan Xichen went into seclusion following Jin Guangyao’s death, it’s almost as if he can see the grabby hands of a restless ghost, reaching out for something to keep him company. For something warm and living and devastated. And as history has proved time and time again, the Lans are perfect victims when it comes to giving in to ghosts.Yeah, no. Not on Jiang Cheng’s fucking watch.A story about grief, determination, unexpected friendships, abandoned watchtowers, and letters. So many letters.

All Tied Up In You by Clearpearls

Yet again, the night had come to this:

Jiang Cheng on the floor, kneeling, Zidian wrapped around his wrists.

Alone.

Thank You, and I'm Sorry by Hamliet

Jin GuangYao might be dead, but his story is not. Taking advantage of the chaos he instigated, someone makes an attempt on the life of the young new leader of the Jin Sect. When Jiang Cheng takes Jin Ling to the Cloud Recesses to have him study while he attempts to work with Wei WuXian and his husband Lan WangJi to eliminate the threat, he encounters a mourning Lan XiChen, lovestruck teenagers, and a persistent corpse--and both pairs of brothers find themselves struggling to move on.

saturn's rings (don't be a heartbreaker) by iskendaris

Set after the seige of burial mounds, Yunmeng rebuilds as they hold the first Discussion Conference at Lotus Pier. Sometimes the night is a gift, a refuge for loneliness. "So stern, Sect Leader Jiang," Lan Xichen murmured, "So glacial... What will it take to melt that icy exterior? What can I say?"

"Nothing. There's nothing you can say or offer."

reciprocity by jukeboxhound

There’s a pause before Lan Xichen says, in a tone that’s a little more neutral, “I would like to paint on you.”

“…What?”

“Of course, if you say ‘yes’ but then change your mind at any point, for any reason, you need only say so and I will stop immediately,” he adds.

Well, silver lining: Jiang Cheng is feeling much more awake than he was a moment ago.

Talent Hunt Crew Finds Angry Guy Shouting On College Campus, Recruits Him For Vocal Projection Abilities by oh_fudgecakes

Jiang Cheng, resident Angry Guy and heir to a conglomerate empire, has never been the apple of his father’s eye. Quashed under the shadow of his brilliant brother, the music prodigy Wei Wuxian, Jiang Cheng sees his chance to turn things around when he is recruited by the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt. One problem: he can’t sing to save his goddamn life.

As he struggles to develop his nascent singing abilities, Jiang Cheng finds himself sucked into the whirlwind drama of reality TV, helped along by his adoring siblings, his irritable vocal coach Wen Qing, and strangely enough, the unfairly attractive host of the All-Stars Lan Talent Hunt, Lan Xichen. Somewhere in the glare of the stage lights and an unexpected first love, Jiang Cheng stumbles upon the thing he was searching for all along: the courage to dream — and to attempt the impossible.

Marginal Costs by ohwhatevrewhatevr

“You think you know what you want, Er-Ge,” A-Yao says. “But you should consider what you’re willing to give first,” he says wryly, taking Lan XiChen’s chess piece with slim, skilled fingers.

Lan XiChen looks up at A-Yao’s concentrated expression and the hint of contentment on his face that he is special enough to be allowed to see.

“It’s not just one decision, but the lead up to many more. One decision decides what else you’re going to have to pay, and each time you have to ask yourself, ignoring the sunk costs, if this time it’s worth it as well.”

When his sworn brother looks up at him with those clear, amber eyes, waiting, Lan XiChen feels the pull and gives in: he asks.

“Are you happy being in love?”

(First half is two sad sworn brothers talking, internally mourning how unfortunate their other sworn brother’s death was :/ and second half is when a mopey boy in blue meets an angsty boy in purple whilst chasing a demonic cultivator, and a lil bit of sexy dual cultivation happens.)

Somewhat Tender by theherocomplex

There is no defense against kindness; it has always undone him.

I didn't expect you to be lonely (too) by bettydice (BettyKnight)

Jiang Cheng's life is a mess, he's a mess, and he doesn't miss his brother at all. So when his sister gifts him ten sessions with a massage therapist, who turns out to be someone he was crushing on for a hot minute as a teenager and is still as hot as ever... yeah, that might as well happen. It won't have to mean anything.

This feels intimate to Jiang Cheng in a way that's probably very inappropriate and maybe even pathetic. Nobody touches him like this, right where he’s hurt the most. There's no one who handles him so gently, so carefully.

It's the gentleness that's his undoing, he thinks. He would be able to deal better with it if it was painful.

Life for Rent by yodasyoyo

“Yeah well. You’re not taking me seriously. This guy is my soulmate!”

“Soulmate.” Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“Just because you don’t believe in them—”

“I believe in them!” Jiang Cheng says. “I’ve never denied they exist.”

“Just last week you said that it was an evolutionary quirk that had been used by greetings card companies, movie makers, and corporations to exploit lonely and vulnerable people.”

“And I stand by it! That doesn’t mean that soulmates aren’t real. Just incredibly unlikely and probably pointless.

-

Or:

Xicheng vs Soulmates. Fight!

Halfway Around the World by theherocomplex

Normally, Jiang Cheng would be seething, jaw clenched tight, if someone sounded like that while they were talking, but — Lan Xichen has the trick of always making you feel like you're in on the joke, whatever the joke is. That you're laughing together.

Whelmed by yodasyoyo

For months now Jiang Cheng’s been idly fantasizing about how it would be if something were to come between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan. Mostly those daydreams have been simple enough — they break up (probably because Lan Zhan is boring or Wei Ying is annoying), Wei Ying is sad for a couple of days (Jiang Cheng’s willing to allow some space for feelings, he isn't a total monster), but then Wei Ying realizes he’s better off, he gets over it, and Jiang Cheng gets his brother back.

Unfortunately the fantasy version of events has only proven partially true, so far. They've broken up. Wei Ying has been sad.

Now weeks have passed, though — and Wei Ying is still sad, every. Single. Day.

It’s like Jiang Cheng's stuck in a looping GIF, and it’s driving him insane.

Or:

Jiang Cheng plots, Lan Huan pines, and, unfortunately for Lan Qiren, Wangxian are inevitable.