#i want to drop off the face of the planet and die

[spacedace]

It was the final hour. Doomsday at their door, with only hours left before the world was consumed entirely and every last living thing was devoured right along with it.

Summoning the High King of the Infinite Realms was the only option left, and even then felt more like choosing a firing squad rather than a noose at the end of the day. Pariah Dark might - might - accept the task of destroying the foe they faced, but tmit would come at a cost that was near equal to doing nothing at all. Provided the tyrannical ruler simply didn't let them all die, an entire planet dead was an entire planet to add to his endless armies.

They had to try. Stupid and suicidal as it was.

Zantanna and John worked in silence as they created the summoning circle, hands shaking and stomachs cramping as they worked under the apprehensive eyes of the rest of the League. They all understood that no matter what happened, they would all likely end up dead by the end of it. That the best case scenario meant that death was only the beginning of their problems.

Candles were lit. Insense burned. Blood spilled. Words spoken.

Nothing.

Nothing.

It failed, not so much as a flicker of magic. Which was impossible, they'd checked and confirmed a dozen times that they had the right ritual, that they were following the steps, they had done everything right way wasn't it working? What had they done wr-

"Ugh, gross is that blood?"

Elle Phantom, fifteen minuted late to the site of the ritual with both the boys Super, the most murderous Robin and a sugary abomination of an iced coffee from Starbucks, scrunched her nose in disgust as she looked at the summoning circle.

"This ritual is so out of date, where did you even find it? Wait is that Latin? Who tries to summon someone from the Ghost Zone in Latin?"

John had burned through every drop of alcohol and cigarette he owned hours ago while trying to find this bloody damn ritual and was very much not in the mood for the little hellspawn's color commentary on the process.

"I don't bloody well seeing you providing with any alternatives for summoning the Ghost King." He swore, turning away from the gremlin to tear through the ancient book he and Zantanna had discovered with the ritual inside.

There was a loud slurping noise as the undead hero sucked the last remnants of her drink through the straw. John's brow twitched, even Zantanna - who usually seemed endeared by the chaos goblin - looked at the end of her rope.

Then - "Oh, is that who you wanted to summon? Why didn't you say so?" She drifted over, handing her empty drink off to a disgruntled looking Batman, and began rummaging through the unused magival supplies left over from the - failed - summoning circle. "Here, give me like, five minutes."

John was fairly certain his head was about to explode.

"You know how to summon the Ghost King? You?"

Phantom rolled her eyes at him. "Duh, obviously."

"Obviously." Zantanna repeated, looking like she was half a moment away from having a breakdown. She didn't try to stop the ghostly girl, though, and to be fair neither was John. They were already fucked, might as well let the gremlin try her hand at it.

It took less than the five minutes Phantom had claimed she needed.

When she was done there was a significantly smaller circle on the ground. At the cardinal directions of the circle, written clockwise she'd drawn not any magical runes but instead what appeared to be the Roman Numerals for one, then two, then something akin to a sideways T with an additional mark rising upward from the long horizontal bar, then the letter L.

It had to have some kind of ancient magical significance John didn't know as Shazam made a noise like a dying goose and squeaked out the word Loss like it was a question. Phantom gave the Champion of Magic a sharp toothed grin before adding some words in a language John didn't know before she finally allowed gravity to pull her back to earth and plant her feet on the ground.

She wiped her hands together a bit dramatically, looking pleased with herself, but at that point John didn't care. He could feel the building magic, heavy and oppressive as she had begun her task. Unlike the circle he and Zantanna had attempted, this one was working.

He couldn't help thr nervous swallow he gave as Phantom then declared, with a strange amount of seriousness. "All that’s left are the words."

She took a deep breath, eyes closing for a moment, and the world went utterly silent around them. This, John could feel, this was the real deal. Fuck him sideways the hellspawn was actually doing it.

Phantom's eyes opened, glowing with that bright eerie green light of her power. Another deep breath and then -

"You are my dad! You're my dad!" He watched, any scraps of hope she'd instilled in him dying an undignified death as she gave a terrible little wiggle dance while she sang(?) Off key, "Boogie woogie woogie!"

Every last person on Earth was going to die and one of John's last moments was going to be spent watching the little undead shit do the Macarena. Well fuck him, he guessed.

Then there was the sound of the veil between the world's tearing in two and the fucking Ghost King was standing in Phantom's summoning circle screaming in a screeching falsetto:

"When will you learn? When will you learn that your actions have consequences!"

You know what actually at this point John would rather the apocalypse kill him.

[klausysworld]

I don’t know why but I really want something with Klaus breaking reads heart.

Maybe…. Reader and Cami have been kidnapped and Klaus has to choose who to save. He chooses Cami but before reader can be killed Elijah saves her.

Left for dead

Living with the originals was hard enough. Between the betrayals and the wars just within the family was overwhelming let alone outsiders going out of their way to destroy each of them.

Being with Klaus was already difficult, between his mood swings and temper tantrum’s he wasn't an easy person to love and yet I did.

Even when I realised he was in love with someone else, even whilst knowing he was kissing someone else, I didn't leave him. I loved him with everything in me whether it was killing me or not.

I had offered my life for his, I took life for his and I ruined my own life for his. With Klaus came his family and I did everything I could to welcome them as my own. Even after I found out that his sister knew that he was seeing someone else.

Hope was treated the way I would treat my own daughter and I loved more than anyone else to walk the planet. Maybe that was why I stayed, for Hope. Or maybe that’s what I tell myself because how could I have been pathetic enough to stay for a an who only saw me as a warm body.

For some reason I had it in my head that perhaps he loved both me and Camille. Maybe he thought I wouldn't accept it and so he kept it a secret but surely after everything he should know that I would never try to change him or invalidate his feelings. It was stupid to be okay with him seeing Cami behind my back, I was blinded by something I had created in my mind.

I would smile when Cami was near and I tried to talk to Klaus but he labelled me paranoid and brushed it off. So I thought maybe he regretted it and he didn't want me to know because he wanted to stop. Maybe he did still love me.

This was the ultimate test really.

Both myself and Camille were beaten until black, blue and bloody. A loop of our cries and screams echoed through my mind and bounced against the walls of whatever dungeon we were seemingly chained within. I had no way of knowing how long we had been there but my body and soul felt such a sense of relief when Klaus's voice rang through the building. That feeling only lasted a few seconds before our captures taunting replayed in my head:

"Klaus will choose between you both, he will decide who lives or dies. He may think that he can have it all, have you both but I won't let him well. Whichever one he chooses, the guilt from the other will eat away at him, he won't be able to stay with the other. You will all end up broken and alone." he had whispered cruelly.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she watched Klaus approach them both, his hands coated in red as he forced the bars that separated us apart and went to step through only to let out a gasp and drop to his knees. The with who had tortured us for however long appeared from thin air in front of Klaus and I automatically pulled my legs to my chest to hide in the corner.

"Only one of them leaves" he stated, a grin on his face. "I don't care which but you will choose one or they both die and the next to go missing will be your daughter"

At his words Klaus let out a vicious snarl and attempted to lurch forward at the man but a sharp pain forced its way to his head and caused a loud yell of pain to burst from within him.

I could feel my eyes burning with another flow of tears just watching his pain, knowing what he felt. I could see Cami staring straight at me. Over our time in here together she had often brought up Klaus's ultimatum, I told her that I knew that they loved each other. I told her that he would choose her. She was certain that I was wrong and that Klaus didn't love her but just used her as a release. But I knew what Klaus looked like when he was in love. Even so part of me hoped she was right, it was a dark thought, a horrible hope that I wish I didn't have but I really wanted it to be true.

I looked back to Camille, a tight lipped smile that was probably more of a grimace formed on my lips as I mouthed the words 'it'll be okay' to her and her head shook as tears slipped down her cheeks.

Cami was sweet, she was lovely and I loathed it. She wanted to die instead of me, she said I deserved to live more than she did. That I was Hope's second mother I was apart of the Mikaelsons. She apologised for ever being with Klaus and it just made me feel worse. I thought that maybe they were lies, maybe she secretly hoped that Klaus would choose her and I would be left to die.

I couldn't tell and it didn't really matter anymore. Not when I realised that Klaus was right in front of me. I felt a small spark of hope as his arms wrapped around me and he pulled my close to his chest. A soft sniffle left him and his lips pressed to the side and top of my head

"I'm so sorry" his voice whispered with a crack and I went to tell him it was okay before I felt him pulling away and I realised what he was apologising for "forgive me" he uttered as he made his way to Cami.

My eyes stayed blurry with tears but they didn't fall as a complete feeling of numbness spread throughout me completely. I could hear my captures sickening laugh spin around me and I could hear Camille asking Klaus what he was doing.

"Klaus- go back to her" she whispered but he shook his head

"I love you" he admitted and a bitter laugh left my lips. I covered my mouth with my hands and pressed my forehead against my knees. I shouldn’t have been surprised and I shouldn’t have been so upset. I knew he loved her, I knew he would choose but for some reason it hurt so much more when he actually confirmed it.

I could hear Camille apologising to me as Klaus lifted her up, carrying her to a safety I thought I would never again know.

As soon as they left hands were on me, grabbing and dragging me by my hair to force me to crawl wherever he wanted me. Uncontrollable pain shot through me continuously and I had no time to comprehend the sobs that shook my body. I felt my back arch painfully, almost breaking but not quite, my head was forced back so my neck was bared and a sharp knife went to the edge of my neck.

"it's unfortunate really..." the voice uttered before the blade began to sink into my throat. My eyes closed and I welcomed the quick death but the pressure stopped and a thud sounded from before me.

Fingers pressed to the place the knife had began to cut, a familiar scent engulfed me and an arm circled my waist.

"You're alright darling" the voice whispered, pulling me into an embrace making me grab onto the back of his suit silently. "He's gone now Y/n. You're safe." he murmured softly, rubbing my back before i felt him pull back a little bit. My eyes slowly cracked open to see his face, his deep dark eyes boring into mine with a knowing look of pity. Silently I watched as an array of reds and purples scattered under his chocolate brown eyes and his pearly fangs dipped into the tough skin of his wrist. The fresh wound was lifted to my lips and I accepted the metallic taste with a sigh. I drank for much longer than I needed, I expected he would pull be off but his hand only pet the back of my head gently

"Good girl" he whispered "just heal". His touch made my heart hurt and I didn't bother trying to stop the tears from falling anymore. My hands clutched onto his jacket desperately and I gulped his blood down as though it was water.

Soft touches were given to the skin of my face before his silk handkerchief cleaned at the dirt and dried blood that had dripped down my neck. Reluctantly I pulled away from his wrist and licked my lips clean. He wiped his own wrist and tucked the material away into his pocket. Elijah proceeded to pull the jacket off of his body and instead wrapped it around my shoulders. The inside was warm and smelt of home.

My eyes felt heavy with exhaustion and I gave him a tired smile making him frown.

"I'll bring you home now okay?" he whispered but I shook my head

"I can't go back" I muttered "I won't stay with him anymore. I should have left ages ago" I admitted and his eyes grew glossier.

"Where should I take you?" He asked gently and I shrugged

"Airport? Train station? I don't care just don't tell anyone you saved me? Please?" I begged softly and he nodded.

"I'll give you whatever you need" he promised "anything"

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

####

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

[evilminji]

Huh >.> you know how Crechelings are basicly, like... possessed?

Like? They are cute af. But they VERY MUCH are constantly reaching out too and listening too the Force cause they are Baby and know jack shit? They are in that "why? Why? Why?" ×1000 stage of life. But instead of asking ADULTS, who might not always be on hand?

Well... the FORCE is on hand.

24/7!

Why NOT ask a cosmic driving force of all creation is you should have juice or water? This fruit or that vegetable? What are we gonna play today Effectively God? I'm a toddler! I don't know what boundaries are! Nor do I realize I probably shouldn't be bothering you with every single thought that passes through my head!

Yeeeeeah....

Tiny force sensitives? HELLA possessed.

They'll pull shit like "speak in prophecy" and "I stole a ship a can't even reach the controls off, to thwart an assassination attempt, because The Force Told Me Too, and that's why I'm on another planet and missed nap time." Plus the fun ol *hands a jedi master a rock* "the force says you'll need this! :D " *walks away, oblivious to the confusion they have wrought*

There is a REASON Creche master have to be SUPER patient types. And that parents are so often like "yeah, yeah we can't handle our kid. We love them. But this is beyond what we can parent."

Cause when your kid? Looks up from their mashpotatos? To casually drop "X is going to die soon." Or "he's going to betray you, you know" like??? Sweetie. Honey, youngling, you're THREE. Wtf. It's a BIT MUCH.

But? What I'm getting at?

I wanna see Creepy!ForceAvatar!Crechelings? Like it's... it's just a STAGE kids grow out off?

And I want it to save their fuckin LIVES.

Like? During the later stages of the Clone Wars. The Force is getting agitated. Knows what's coming. Does NOT like such imbalance and death. So? Even if the OLDER ones either can't hear it clearly or won't listen? The BABIES sure can.

And it's like a FUCKING HIVEMIND.

Absolutely HORRIFYING to behold.

All these lil babies. These wee lil toddlers n smol kiddos. Just... Stopping. Misstep. Balls bouncing past hands frozen, toys mid "woosh" motion, spoons half way to faces. All of it. Just... stopped.

They all cock their heads.

Like animals trying to hear a sound better.

Put down what they were doing. Calm as you please, ignoring everything around them, everyONE. Gathering their things from their rooms. Gathering the babies. Who are... oddly well behaved. It's the most calm and orderly anyone's ever see them. None of the creche masters can get their attention. Every attempt to physically get in the way is dodged before it's even attempted.

The children... calmly. Pleasantly. Like taking a stroll.

Steal a series of ships.

Broad daylight.

In... in front of everyone. No one can even STOP them. The Force is helping. All anyone can do is just? Follow.

They settle basicly a few weeks into the uncharted zone, in an old temple no one knew was there. All they will fuckin say is variations of "the Force says we live here now!" Like? Subtle this was NOT. I guess... we live here now?

.....huh.

It IS weirdly easier to think way out here.

As though we were no longer standing in the middle of some terrible smoke cloud. Nice and calm. Lots of Light. Unlike back o-.....waaaaait a fucking second. *sound of various Master's and council members connecting dots in their head*

>:O

@legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @spidori @lolottes @nerdpoe

[swarvey]

Can you do bachelor hcs where farmer is like super hurt? Like blood gushing from their abdomen or smth?? Like basically life threatening

when they think you're not going to make it | sdv bachelors x gn!reader

summary -> how some of the boys react to seeing you come out of the mines unconscious with nearly fatal wounds. warnings -> blood and injuries, panic attacks, harsh language

a/n: basically a more severe version of this series lol, i hope you enjoy!!! <3 alex's is probs the longest bc i was inspired heh, i started with alex and shane, but lmk if y'all want more!

alex

feels like his throat is closing in on itself when he sees you all beaten up in harvey's clinic

harvey has to yell at linus to get him out of the room when he keeps trying to reach you

completely panics at the thought of losing you

he just doesn't want to be alone again

it was no secret alex hated hospitals, and harvey's small clinic was no exception. he always tried to leave his appointments with the doctor as soon as he could, and although he would accompany you to yours, he preferred to stand outside until you finished. everything about the environment was too much for him, too painful.

so when linus — the local homeless guy he never really cared to talk to — caught him on the street and practically begged him to go to the clinic, he wasn't entirely convinced. only when your name slipped off his tongue did his eyes widen, his feet moving before his mind could catch up.

alex hated hospitals, and now he had a reason to hate them even more.

"y/n?"

his voice was barely audible as the world around him began to fade, only focusing on your paled face and the blood-soaked bandage wrapped around your torso. his breath got stuck in his chest, and an all too familiar feeling began to swarm him —images of his poor mother laying in a cold hospital bed, monitors beeping rapidly as the doctors failed to save her.

not again. please, not again.

"get him out of here!" harvey demanded, pushing him away from your body. alex blinked, realizing he'd moved past the doctor and was desperately trying to hold onto you. "alex, you have to step away, or else i won't be able to help them."

"stop it, they need me! let me go," he loudly protested. he knew it was childish; he knew he sounded like the same kid he was all those years ago, begging to see his mom one last time, but he didn't care. this was you, and he couldn't lose you. he couldn't lose anyone else.

despite his efforts, alex was swiftly dragged away by linus's unexpected strength. before he knew it, he was standing outside the clinic in the cool evening air, chest heaving as he tried to breathe.

"take some deep breaths," the older man said, somehow sounding level-headed. "it'll be okay."

"the fuck do you know?" alex snapped, voice wavering. "you don't know anything about what it's like, do you? what it's like to lose someone? to watch someone die?" his voice hitched, tears beginning to well in his eyes before spilling down his cheeks. "i can't do this. i-i can't do this again, not again, not after last time — i can't—"

"hey." strong hands planted themselves on his shoulders, and his panicked gaze met linus's kind eyes. "this isn't the first time i've dragged people out of the mines, alright? trust me, i've seen worse. they'll be okay."

"you don't know that," alex replied weakly. "they might not make it."

"they're strong, you know that."

"she was strong, too. my mom was the strongest person on this planet." more tears blurred his vision. "look where she ended up."

linus sighed, dropping his arms. "she was," he agreed, and alex looked up in surprise, "but this is different, alex."

"how do you—"

"alex." he turned, meeting harvey's exhausted smile. "you can come in now." alex nodded, wiping his face with his sleeve and giving linus a a grateful look before walking in.

your face was still pale and you weren't awake, but it was clear you were much better than before. a new, clean bandage covered your abdomen, and an iv was attached to your arm.

alex let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. "so, they'll be okay?" he asked, sitting on the chair beside you.

"yes, with some recovery, of course," harvey said, sounding just as relieved as alex felt. "though, i would strongly advise not letting them go to the mines for a while. an injury like this won't heal quicky, and it will likely scar. please talk to them after they wake."

"got it, doc. seriously, thank you so much." with another smile and a nod, harvey walked to another part of the clinic, leaving alex alone with you. he kept repeating the doctor's words in his head as he grabbed your limp hand, watching your chest fall up and down with each breath. "you'll be okay," he whispered, though it wasn't you he was trying to convince.

as alex drifted off to sleep next to you, he silently reminded himself to stop by linus's tent the following morning.

shane

he usually acts pissed at you whenever you get hurt, but it's only bc he knows you can handle yourself

usually you can, anyway, which is why he's worried when you don't come home when you said you would

he's quick to leave the house and immediately starts looking for you (tries to convince himself you're just running late)

in complete shock when he sees you in dr. harvey's arms as he rushes into the clinic with maru beside him

shane glanced at the clock for the fifth time in the last minute, frown deepening when you still didn't appear in the doorway. he could practically hear you chastising him for being too dramatic, but he didn't care — you'd never been this late before, and a tugging feeling in his gut told him there was something wrong.

swearing under his breath, he threw on his jacket and left the farm, telling himself that you probably just got caught up at the saloon, or maybe you stopped by the community center. then again, you had mentioned you wanted to get back into fishing—

"maru, get the door!"

a cold wave washed over shane's entire body, making him halt mid-step.

all he could focus on was your bloodied face hanging from harvey's arms as he rushed you into the clinic, maru hot on his tail.

for a second, time seemed to stop.

then, he was sprinting to catch the door and run in after them, panicked words spewing from his mouth before he could even process his thoughts.

"what the— what the fuck happened? where did you even—? are they going to be okay, oh shit, are they gonna wake up—"

"shane," harvey gritted out through his teeth, "you need to leave, now."

immediately, shane stood his ground, jaw clenched. "i'm not fuckin' going anywhere, not 'til they're awake."

"shane," the doctor repeated in a softer tone, eyes pleading with him, "i can't work on them with you in the room. this wound is deep — i need to operate, and you can't be here."

"please," maru added quietly, looking more distressed than shane had ever seen the typically laidback girl. "th-they might not make it."

harvey gave her a look, but didn't deny her words. shane felt his stomach drop.

then, wordlessly, he turned and slammed open the door into the waiting room, forcing himself into a seat as he bit back panicked tears. maru's words kept playing back in his head like a broken record, and suddenly, shane realized he might have to face a terrifying world without you in it.

"fuck," he cursed, letting his head fall into his hands to hide the hot tears streaming down his face. at first, he thought he was angry — he always told you to be careful, that you shouldn't be running around so damn carelessly all the time, you're not fuckin' invincible. you never listened, of course, always spewing something stupid about doing what's best for everyone. after hearing that phrase more than a handful of times, shane thought it was pretty reasonable for him to be a little pissed.

in that moment, though, who the hell was he kidding? he was nowhere near pissed; he was scared.

you couldn't die, not yet — not when he just got better, not when he still had so much left to say to you. the thought of never being able to see your smile again made him nauseous, and he wished he could rewind back to the morning so he could tug you back into bed with him. stay, he would say. you're not leaving my side today, alright?

he knew it wouldn't have worked. he would still try, though.

shane didn't realize how long he stayed in the same position until the waiting room doors creaked open, his head shooting up at the sound. harvey greeted him with a nod, which he returned stiffly as he stood up.

"d-did everything go okay?" he asked, swallowing in an attempt to soothe his rough voice. "are they—?"

"they're fine," harvey replied, a small smile upturning his lips at the sound of shane's relieved swears.

"thank fuck, i don't know what i would've— it doesn't matter, can i come in?" he barely waited for a response before slipping past the doctor and finding your bed.

he caught maru on her way out, giving her another nod. she smiled, wider than harvey's, before making her way to the other room.

shane hesitantly grabbed your hand as he sat down in the chair beside you, scared he might break you if he held you too roughly. when you didn't stir, he laced his fingers with yours and held them to his forehead, pressing a firm kiss to the back of your hand.

"you scared the shit out of me," he sighed, shaking his head. "god, i don't know what i would've done if you— if i couldn't—" he couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence, resorting to giving your hand another kiss. "you better wake up, you hear me? i'll fuckin' kill you if you don't." he half expected you to answer. he could hear your voice in his head telling him to stop acting so tough, that you could see right through him.

instead, the sound of your steady breaths filled the room, and even then, shane felt like that was your way of telling him everything would be okay.

[ant1quarian]

what are all of the western bad sanses like on a lv high?

Teehee. Rubs my hands together evily

Killer's magic becomes erratic. His SOUL siphons off more, jolting magic that fills the air with an ambience of danger. A singular, red ring for an eyelight will form in his left socket. His body heat shoots up and he now has two moods:

You're gonna fucking die or I'm making a nest and putting you in it and you are not getting out.

When he's in his "You're gonna fucking die" state, it's never towards you- though the danger of existing near him during this is still a bit of a risk (collateral damage, bro is throwing shit).

"I'm making and nest and putting you in it and you are not getting out" is purely an instinctual reaction to danger. A deep, primal, incredibly powerful urge to keep you safe activates during the time where he is, most definitely, at his most dangerous and therefore: you have become the safest person on the planet for that moment.

Dust goes non-verbal and, quite simply, hides when he's not wanting to commit mass-genocide. He'll likely be shaking and fuzzy-headed, but he can recall one prominent thing: You. He wants you to stay with him- and if you don't, he's going to come and find you.

Anyone who stands in his way can and will be mercilessly slaughtered.

Horror during an LV high is... attentive, but lethal. Anyone who he doesn't know close enough that comes into your shared territory is going to have their head crushed in.

He's insanely strong, and I can guarantee you, from the moment he's got you bundled up in blankets with some warm soup, curled around you like a particularly affectionate dog, there is no one that can touch you without facing severe consequences.

( Save for the other boys )

Nightmare with an LV high is a slightly more dangerous, slightly less filtered, slightly more violent Nightmare. Never to you, of course, but he gets pretty jittery, too. Bouncing on his feet or rapidly tapping his distals against something.

Cross doesn't get LV highs anywhere near as frequently, but when he has them, they're always sudden and he acts more sick than anything else. This is a time where if anyone steps on the territory (that isn't someone he knows well enough) he is Fucking Them Up, but otherwise he's going to be all fuzzy-headed and bleary-eyed, reaching out to you like a little kitten.

Thank you for the ask! If you have any more questions, feel free to drop 'em in my inbox! :D

[yuri-is-online]

Hi Yuri! Have you ever considered the idea of there being an alternate version of the twst boys in Yuu’s world? Since we have no clue if it’s just another planet or an entirely separate universe, it’s theoretically possible. Poor Yuu would think they are going crazy seeing a familiar face or hearing a familiar voice in another world. Perhaps it is even painful to the point Yuu tries to avoid interacting with the boy in question. - 🦐

(Also, I am well aware of how often I’ve been sharing these thoughts. If they’re annoying you or you don’t feel up to it, I don’t want you to feel pressured to respond or anything. I’m just spitballing and posting before I forget. 👉👈)

OH BOY DO I HAVE SOME THOUGHTS ON THIS!!!!! (first and foremost being that you are very much not annoying <3)

An alt version of a twst boy in Yuu's world is just so yummy. There's so much angst potential depending on what the relationship is/was. Did their boy die in some horrible accident? Is he waiting for them, anxious and terrified about where Yuu went? Does this imply that twst also has a version of Yuu somewhere out there in the world? Questions questions. I did sort of write about this idea in the tags of this yan version of the soulbound au, wherein a cursed Yuu driven insane by their curse kills their soulmate before being isekaid to Twisted Wonderland and finding a different version of him, horrified with the realization that they could kill him again... but I want to cook up some dynamics for what the dorm leaders/overblot boys could be up to in Yuu's world first sooo...

I had a hard time thinking about Riddle until I remembered he's a horse girl and cast Yuu in the role of bad boy ranch hand whose dad's got a job at the barn so they're forced to help take care of the horses and warn all the would be YA protags about the "special horse" who doesn't take orders from just anyone. Not that Riddle is the protagonist... he's more the well established rich petty bitch who looks down on the new girls and especially on you because you're never taking care of his horse in accordance with all his stupid rules. And in stereotypical horse movie fashion Riddle has a massive not so secret crush on bad boy ranch hand Yuu who just doesn't get why he keeps trying to talk to them.

There isn't much royalty left in the world, but imagine Leona as the son of some rich business magnate whose older brother got the company and left him with "nothing." Maybe Yuu works at a liquor store part time and Leona comes in to pick stuff up every once in a while. You wouldn't call him a friend, but you guys shoot the shit enough that you have a general feel for each other to the point he joins you on your breaks to keep up the talk and play chess.

I love the idea of student president council Azul. He's made for that trope. Born for it, he'd be such a terror with Jade as his VP and Floyd as well. Floyd. I can't see him really being a part of the student council but I had this idea the other day based off this instagram post I saw about this mom who sews right? Her daughter was running for class president and she made these bracelets with little shrimp on them and attached them to cards that said "Keep it shrimple! Vote for (kid's name)!" And I was struck with this vision of Yuu doing that so like. Yuu running against Azul with that campaign slogan and he's tearing his hair out over it being so popular because people like memes (the original idea had Floyd running as Yuu's vp but they both dropped out at the last minute because neither him or Yuu wanted to do the actual work lol.) I also like student council president Azul and delinquent Yuu... but that's because of Tsuredure Children ha

Kalim and Jamil are hard... but I think the same set up of rich businessman's kid and his bodyguard in training still fits. How Yuu meets them is beyond me, but if you were friends with either of them could you imagine how painful seeing the same tragedy play out in this new world would be? Jamil doomed to always be a servant and Kalim doomed to be betrayed by his best friend... that would be so painful for someone who cared deeply about either of them I could see it motivating Yuu to try and resolve things for twst Jamil and Kalim that much harder.

Ok so hear me out... Vil still wants to be an actor in your world but he doesn't have the connections to his dad and is working as a pharm tech with Yuu at your local drugstore while going to school and hunting for gigs. He mentions being interested in cosmetics and magical pharmacology in game... and he also mentions knowing nothing about his mom so like. Your world Vil ended up with his mom instead of his dad and you get to see him on the cusp of his big break as one of his number one supporters from the very start, only to get isekaid to a world where you get to see what things could have looked like. It's strange how similar and yet not both versions of Vil are...

Idia is the guy who comes in to buy snacks at your convenience store during the night shift who you start talking to when you notice him buying a game time card for something you also play. You're stupid awkward around each other at first, but it's nice to finally have someone to talk about your niche interest with once you've passed each other's sniff tests. You don't actually know him know him though... so getting sent to another world where there's another version of him makes you worried the more you learn about his backstory that maybe you should have been there for your Idia more. Is he doing ok back home? Did he think of you as a friend? You hope he isn't blaming himself for any of this...

Malleus is an old money trust fund baby whose family was absolutely royalty at some point and is still overly attached to it. He likes old buildings, cemeteries, long walks in the fog, you know all those good goth things. He's tall and socially awkward and so grateful for you, his first and best friend who he met one moonlight night he swore was a dream in his favorite abandoned building who spoke at length with him about all sorts of things he liked. So you know. More or less the same. Just without the world ending powers... I think this is another one that would be quite sad. Which version of Malleus needs Yuu more? Which one is the real one? I'd hate the idea of him being destined to always be lonely and lose the ones he loves.

As for Yuu avoiding them... I could see that. It would feel weird seeing someone you love so much only for it not to be them at all. I know that the Lovebrush Chronicles kiiiiind of deals with this??? I wish I had the patience to play through it has an appealing glasses wearing ro but it's a mobile otome :/ but still. It's a concept I promise I am totally normal about.

[granolawriting]

To break you

pairing: sith!Anakin x princess!Reader

Summary: a suitless darth vader find your home planet to be a threat to the galactic empire. and as he takes you into his custody, he gives you an answer; to wed him, or to die. and as your decision looms over you, he makes it his goal to break you before the wedding day.

word count: 4.2k

content warning: NSFW WARNING!, dark!anakin, there is no fluff he is just using you, spanking, name calling (slut, toy), condesending pet names (my doll, princess), hair pulling, nipple play, kind of public p in v, he cums in you, no aftercare, master anakin kink, sadism/masochism, stockholm syndrome pretty much, cocky and evil vaderkin, forced submission kind of, kind of dubcon but you do enjoy it

masterlist

A/N: hello!!! this is super diffrent than what I usually write, and I would want to put a content warning that this is pretty dark, but the people want and I deliver! This was a request by this anon, so thank you for the request :) Make sure if you like my work to check out my requests/comissions or my ko-fi!!!

“Kneel.” 

The hiss of a door that centered your prison was met by a brooding anakin. Well above 6 feet, drenched in black from head to toe did the heaviness of his boots only add greater loom of intimidation to engulf the room as he stood before you. Commanding you. 

Darth Vader. He is who stood before you. Who caged you in this prison and moreover, destroyed everything you knew in mere hours. Scenes flash before you of what once was your home, one where you reigned comfortable leadership. A princess of a far off planet, known for well intended democracy and a desire for unity within its people. You were happy, especially under the old republic's rule. Even knowing who vader was, be it briefly, before he became the man before you. 

Anakin skywalker. That's who really stood before you. No grimace upon a face, no merciless killings could ever shake him from being that person. The curve of his jaw in a scowl was the same one that greeted you all those years ago on your home planet-- sharing a single dinner together as he and his master asked for direction on a mission they were set upon. You knew what a smile looked like along his face, what a laugh may sound like from the cords deep within his throat. And as the man stands before you now, towering over you with no semblance of that boy surviving within him the scar on his face remains. The curl of his hair, the shape of his nose. It was all him, it was anakin. 

Your knees instinctively met the cold metal of the floor of your cell. Bowing before him with great fervor, fear enveloping every sense in your body. 

Looking up, you are met with Anakin as he looks down upon you. A face you couldn't read only exacerbated your fear as he looked at you with selfish intent. 

He kneels, shoes flat upon the ground as knees bend together to get a closer look at you. Still towering over you does he stay, studying you, every muscle on your face every inch your eyes move. A gloved hand reaches out to grab you, flinching ever so slightly as you feel the cool leather grip onto your jaw. He moves you, taking you in, you move with him and submit yourself to his touch. 

Standing up once more, a smirk grows upon a dark face. 

“Let me ask you, shall I wed you, or kill you?” 

your heart drops. It feels as though it stops beating as his eyes bore into you, taking in every lick of petrification that coats your face at the sight of his question. You knew deep in your mind there was nothing you could say to sway his decision, nothing you could argue or beg to urge one or the other; it was merely a matter of watching how you would react. The sadistic joy he felt in seeing you take in your options, the only two left for you in a life once bearing endless ones. Tears well in the sides of your eyes as you break eye contact with him, sobbing into the floor beneath you as wet tears hit the cool metal of the prison floor and a laugh emits from him. A sickening smile coats his face as he gathers great joy from your faltering. A once high princess, kind and polite, now bearing shackles at his feet. He found no greater joy. 

“You can stop the melodrama now, princess, is it? Are you even able to form a single sentence? Come on now, beg for my mercy.” 

You didn’t know what would be more merciful, to be ended or to be saved-- both with their pros and cons. But as you stare at the metal vaguely mirroring your reflection, you see your own face through muddled shapes. The look in your eyes, you were reminded of your humanity. Above all else, you didn't want to die. It wasn't your time yet. 

“Please, please master. Let me wed you, I beg you not to kill me. I will do whatever you please master Vader just, don't let me die.”

You double down, almost curling up as tears fall from your face and horror shocks you to your core at what you’ve just done. Begged for, even. To wed the man who killed your family, slaughtered them like animals. Use them as an example, the death of your home planet serving as a reminder of the power of the empire over any semblance of the old republic order. 

A small sucking of teeth exits Anakin as he paces back and forth, slow heavy stomping of boots echoing in the chamber, armed guards flanking either side of him. You can sense a smirk on his face, a sadistic smile growing on him as you kneel before him in pain and powerlessness. He gets drunk off the power he has over you, the way he can make you submit. He decides, it’s a fair thing to not give away. Not to mention the undeniable beauty you held, though that was only a bonus to him as such a beautiful face contorted to his favorite expression. 

“So be it then. By 3 days time we shall be wed.” 

He faces the guards stationed at the door. 

“Please send for someone to clean her up, and fix her a room for just the night. By the next, I shall have made arrangements for her cohabitation with me for after the wedding.” 

“Right away sir.” 

… 

You stare blank at the woman that looks at you within the mirror, studying her, questioning her likeness to you. It had been a single day since Anakin had taken you as his bride. And as the maids outside the steel door of your bathroom chattered about laced detailing and color coordinated floral arrangement, you were sick to your stomach in anguish over the dealings he’s made since. He reveled in the stir, the attention that was put on you-- the spotlight. He knew you hated it, and were humiliated by the mere implication. But as he sent maids to your room in and out as the day went on, asking your opinion on certain design choices and cuts of dress, he made you intimately tied to the process at hand. 

You knew anakin hated being in the spotlight, almost as much as you did. But he would do about anything to break you. 

…

Hiss 

Heavy feet invite themselves into your temporary home. 

“Hello lord vader.” 

You stand almost at attention, previously mulling over small books lying around to distract yourself from what glared ahead of you, standing up as his presence enters the confines of your room to face him with full alertness. 

“Please, princess. You are to be my wife aren’t you? No need for such formality. Anakin, will do. Master, anakin.” 

He seemed to enjoy it when you called him master, even as his old name still held in its following address it still set a dynamic of extreme power to tower over you and him. He got off on it, owning you. 

“Hello, master anakin. What can I do for you?” 

Though his demand for formalities was adhered to in their most basic sense, you still felt no comfort in portraying anything but robotic response to what he demanded of you, to try and cater to him as emotionless as you could. 

“Oh well, I was just stopping in to see what you were doing. Did you enjoy the wedding preparation earlier today?” 

He knew you didn't, and a smirk upon a dark face proved it. He wanted to get a reaction out of you, toy with you. 

“It was alright. Though, I don't understand why go through all of the hassle. I have no real say in the matter.” 

Anakin fakes a sense of hurt as you make such a claim; 

“No real say? Why could you say that? I tried to make every little part of the process down to your liking. It’s going to be quite large, after all. I even invited the remaining survivors from your planet, our own special guests to lie front seat to such a momentous occasion. Should you not be thanking me for such consideration?” 

your throat goes dry, and small balls form unconsciously within your fists. He was set on humiliating you, letting the people you swore to protect watch as you wed their captor, their murderer. Composed of women and children assumably, the next generation of your world strapped in to watch the death of what they once knew in a cacophony of sound and extravagance. 

Anakin watches as your expression grows dark-- he has gotten a reaction out of your stoned face. A sadistic grin grows upon his face. He steps closer to you.

“Oh my doll, no need to look so angry. It doesn't suit such a pretty face now does it? Come on, can you show me a smile, some gratitude for everything I've done for you? This wasn't cheap, you know.” 

A leathered hand outstretched to meet your chin, lifting it up as it faced inward to your chest as means to lock eyes with the ground, and not his eyes. Slowly, a heavy hand pulls your chin up to face him, as he bends his head low to greet your eyes while he towers over you. He awaits your response with eagerness. 

“Th.. thank you master Anakin. I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.” 

It falls out of your mouth through gritted teeth, rage stuffed deep inside of you as you watch him grow joyful at the sight of your repression and submission. His smile grows even larger at the sight of it. 

“Good girl, now-” 

He takes a heavy stride over to the lace and flower samples littered all over your room. He held his arms loosely to his back as he paced. 

“I've taken the liberty of choosing your dress, as well as the floral arrangements. I just wanted you to take a glimpse of all the options I had planned out for you, all the things I picked out with you in mind hm? I'm sure it was stressful, but what wedding isn't mmm? We will make sure to get you fitted tomorrow. And,” 

He now looks back over at you. 

“That shall also be the day I move you into my personal chambers.” 

your heart sinks once more. 

“Now, I know that it isn't your planet's code of ethics to bed someone before they tie the knot; however we are no longer on your planet are we? The repairs and modifications have been finished early, and I find no means to wait. After all, I would like to know what I have to look forward to in days to come.” 

Hooded eyes and lustful darkness overtake him as he takes in your body, its shape, and you feel utterly naked. He meant to test you out, before the wedding. Take what was never his thought in the process, please himself with the attraction he found to your body. You were just a toy to him, and by his means of taunting did he make that ever so clear. 

… 

White lace coated every inch of your body in extravagant pattern and stitching, a dress perfectly fitted to your body did it look utterly beautiful. Though as you gazed upon yourself in the mirror behind the curtain where you were to dress you felt nothing but despair. To look so beautiful, so wonderful, in the wake of such a nightmare was something you could only go numb to the feeling of. It was not one you would have chosen, the fit too tight for your usual formal attire, though he knew that well. This dress was out of your comfort zone, revealing, and above all else it was not who you were. Beautiful nonetheless, he wished to remind you that it is no longer you that exists within your body, it is his bride. 

“Come out for me, my doll, I wish to see the bride.” 

A coo coats the voice of taunt that Anakin relays to you at the wake of his impatience to see you in the dress he picked out for you. And thus slowly you emerge from curtained blockers to expose yourself to him. 

He goes speechless for a moment, taking in your frame as you stand there feeling naked-- his eyes undressing every part of you that was accentuated, exposed. 

“Maids, leave us for a moment. I shall call for you when you’re needed.” 

You feel a sickening fear pool within your stomach, anything that he wished to have you utterly alone for was nothing to feel good about. 

The hiss of the door signifying their exit left you trapped, utterly alone as Anakin was yet to voice reaction or concern with your attire. 

“Do a spin for me princess.” 

He is sat upon a cushioned chair, a leg crossed and back relaxed as he watches you, taking you in as you silently follow his command. 

Though as you finish a slow spin, he gets up to approach you, a loom of sadism follows his aura. 

“You look irresistible, you know that? I knew this dress would flatter you, your curves, however I could have never imagined it to look like this. You always wear such stuffy, loose clothing when you’re given the chance. No means to flaunt what is so desirable about you.” 

He outstretches hands to place on your waist, the touch of them sending shock up your spine as his touch feels so foreign to you. Any touch does, really. 

“Aww, what's that? Don’t tell me no one’s touched you like this before. Have you ever had a boyfriend before?” 

Fuck. 

“Uh.. no. no master anakin. This is uh, my first ever relationship, if you will.” 

A selfish and downright evil grin unabashedly covers his face at the sound of such things. That not only did he take you as his bride, but he took your first relationship. You were pure, starved of affection.

“Tch, what a shame that is. I would think boys would line up for a piece of you, princess.” 

His eyes trail down your body as his hands slowly move upward to your breasts, his hands softly cupping them as yellow eyes flick up back to your own to watch a reaction. Maintaining eye contact with you as he begins to massage them, slowly toying with them as you bite back any sort of unconscious response your body would have to such a foreign feeling. 

“Aw, come on now my doll, no need to hold back with me hm? No one has ever touched you like this before have they, I know it must feel nice. Look me in my eyes.” 

The thin fabric along your breast allows friction to your nipples that accentuates the feeling of his touch upon you. You’re not supposed to like it, but there's something irresistible about the feeling he gives you-- something you can't control. 

His fingers move to the center of your breast, moving small circles around your nipples as he watches your face for reaction, searching for the contortion of your eyebrows and the closing of your eyes at the feeling of his friction. He wanted to break you, make you grow desperate for his touch. He got off seeing you melt in his hands, an untouched body waiting to be used by him. 

A small moan escapes your mouth unconsciously as you’re unable to hold it in anymore, the feeling of him massaging you feels less like a violation and more like pleasure as the minutes pass, and as that happens a pool of slick begins to grow between your thighs as you keep eye contact with him, dark yellow eyes loom over your as brown waves softly fall to the front of his face, the tan of his skin growing more desirable as contrasted with the pink of his lips. As he made you so vulnerable for him in this position, the undeniable attraction that resided within his merciless body became evermore apparent. 

At the sound of your approval of his touch he slowly lets off of it, leaving you feeling bare and needy for more. 

“That's it, good girl. Now take that dress off.” 

“What?” 

“I don't wish to repeat myself again-- take that dress off.” 

“Y…yes master anakin.” 

Every inch of your body is screaming with sensitivity at the sight of such an exposing display. Anakin watched as the hairs stood up on your body, slowly as you disrobed yourself. The slipping of arms out of lace detailed sleeves sent shivers up your spine as the embarrassment of being watched overtook you. Slowly unzipping the back of your dress, allowing your body to shake loose it's tight curves on you and fall upon the floor with an airy landing, you stand before him in just what you wore beneath. Laced white underwear, matched with a laced white bra. 

Anakin circles you, once more with hands held behind his back as he studies your body, remaining perfectly still do you allow him all he needs to be able to take in everything you are. 

“I made a good decision deciding to wed you. Beneath those rags you wore I couldn't quite tell but now, now I know it was the right choice princess.” 

You watch as his eyes grow dark, hooded with lust as a smirk overtakes him. His fingers slowly make their way to your waist, feeling a hard leathered hand on one side and a calloused fingers on another as he makes his way up your naked body, sliding upward as he grips onto your breasts and watches the way they fall into his hand. His free hand snakes to the back of your bra, unclasping it as he watches them fall out of their hold. 

“Bend over. On that table for me.” 

He motions to a nearby table sized at around your waist. 

“Yes, master.” 

Eagerness seeps from your voice as his touch upon you grows more and more desired. The feeling of his attraction to your body becomes what weakens your knees as the sight of the unknown grows more enticing. Perhaps it was his brainwashing finally working, the desire to please him becoming genuine priority for you, or perhaps it was primal attraction to being used. Being his doll. 

You do as you're told, and as your exposed chest and stomach are pressed against the cool metal of the table, you feel as the cold air within the room hits the wet spot in now exposed underwear and makes you feel exposed. 

Anakin's hands reach out to feel your ass, toying with it in his hands with a heavy grip-- spreading it apart before slipping off thin underwear that kept him from seeing you entirely. You felt the slick of your excitement drip down the side of your exposed thigh as your underwear dragged along your legs to fall onto the floor. 

“Oh doll, is this all because of me? And here I was thinking you didn't like this. What a little tease, pretending like you don't want me while hiding this from me the whole time. What a slut.” 

A hand slaps an exposed cheek. The sting seeps into your nerves with masochistic pleasure, you weakly hold back a whimper. 

“Does this slut like being spanked around? You said you’ve never been with anyone but you still loved to be fucking used.” 

He slaps you again. 

“Spread your legs for me.” 

You obliged, and as the cool air hits your exposed fold you hear the drop of heavy fabric from behind you. You turn your head to see him, though heavy hand shoves your head back into the metal table; 

“I didn't say you could look at me, did I? Be a good toy and let me do what I wish without distraction.” 

You feel his cock touch your entrance and your breath hitches. Slowly he coats it with your slick as he feeds it in and out of your folds, feeling his tip hit a sensitive clit made your hips buck at the feeling. 

After small strokes along your clit he brings himself back to your entrance, penetrating you for the first time with little regard for how it may hurt for you. Not going too fast, but keeping a steady pace as he shoved himself deep into your cervix and making you yelp at the pain. 

“T..too big… please master..” 

A hand grips onto your hair, pulling you back so he can curve his body over yours, and whisper within your ear; 

“Keep your fucking whining for me baby, I love hearing how much it hurts.” 

And with that he keeps pumping into you, using your hair and waist to hold himself as he uses your hole like it's just a toy. Feeling him pulse inside of you at every sound of cried and yelps for how he slaps into you, echoing in the room sounds of moaning and grunts, wordless begging to go slow and the sound of him fucking into you. 

Though soon the pain turned into unimaginable pleasure, and your desperate attempts to make him slow down were exchanged for the feeling of your hips riding out his thrusts to amplify their intensity inside of you. 

“Feels…sogood.. Master..” 

“Yeah, my pretty toy finally likes my cock inside her hm?” 

He taunts you, teases you the whole time he’s inside of you. Fucking you in and out he calls you his toy, his slut, everything that you are he owns and is but an object to him. His words make a fire burn inside your stomach, white hot does it blaze as he goes faster inside of you with no sign of stopping. 

“God.. Anakin, master I, i'm.,.” 

You can't put together the words to say it, every word interrupted by a moan of desperation as you try and think while your body is completely enveloped by the feeling of him, completely ruined at the way he used you. You were his, and his alone you realized. 

“Are you going to cum? Cum for me you fucking slut, let it swallow my cock.” 

He increases his speed, your body falling up and down the top of the table as he rocks you back and forth with his intensity, and after only a few more strokes you feel your body convulsing over his cock. Legs growing weak and shaking and they’re barely able to hold themselves up anymore do you feel him keep pumping into you through your orgasm, his cock pulsing inside of you as your walls tighten around it. 

“God, fuck good girl, you’re so fucking tight for me i'm-” 

As your orgasm dies his begins, feeling liquid shoot deep inside of you for what seemed like an eternity, his cock warmed inside your pussy as he rode out the pulses of his seed in slow strokes in and out of you. Watching as he finally exited you and pools of his finish slowly seeped out of you and onto the floor. 

Before you could even properly adjust yourself, you heard as Anakin reapplied his fallen clothes and was headed for the door. 

“I will call for the maids to come clean you up.” 

… 

The day of the wedding had arrived shortly after, and you watched as the trumpets began to blair with a cacophony of sound to signify your descent upon the path to the rest of your life. Anakin stood at attention far at the end of white coated floors littered with different flowers, surrounded by the high emperors of the galactic empire as well as the front row full of your own people. You felt numb, broken. There was no fear left inside of you as you descended the rows, clad in beautiful white lace as the onlookers watched in awe. You felt nothing, watching Anakin at the end of the walk flanked by groomsmen he cared nothing about, and you soon to be flanked by bridesmaid you knew nothing of. Only a sick smile coated his face as he was drenched in black robes once more, watching you approach him with grace.

The ceremony began, a large beckoning exclamation filled the room as the looks of horror upon your peoples faces made you only avert your gaze. 

“You may kiss the bride.” 

Anakin's lips met yours, it was the first time he was to have kissed you. And the first of many he would use to remind you of your place, his hands folded to hold yours did you feel strings upon his fingers that held onto you like a marionette to a puppet. 

You watched as he let up from your lips, a cacophony of cheers erupts from the crowd as the only thing you can focus on is him, the whisper he lets out that only you can hear. 

“Til death do us part, my doll.” 

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM THE MANDALORIAN SEASON 2 *  assorted dialogue from the tv show, adjust as necessary

enjoy the fights.

they say it lives here. they say it sleeps.

i know you're good at killing.

where did you get the armor?

i'm sure you call the shots where you come from, but 'round here, i'm the one who tells folks what to do.

take it off. or i will.

i'm prepared to pay you for the information.

i'm not leaving my fate up to chance.

thank you for coming to me.

give it to me now, or i will peel it off your corpse.

you must promise you won't kill me.

i promise that you will not die by my hand.

that wasn't part of the deal.

you don't understand what it was like.

i've got an idea. get its attention.

maybe we can work something out.

they might be open to some fresh ideas.

i hope someday our paths will cross again.

we've heard the stories.

what am i supposed to do with this?

am i under arrest?

you might be in luck.

oh, stop your crying. you'll rust.

i'm not a taxi service.

i paraphrased.

what can i say? i'm an excellent judge of character.

i'll let you know if i see any.

how much will it cost me?

thank you for letting me know. i'll get right on it.

what the hell are you doing?

this was not a part of the deal.

if you hadn't guessed, we're in a tight spot.

that old thing's gonna break apart in this atmosphere.

are you sure you won't join us?

there's something i need to do.

this is more than i signed up for.

that planet is cursed. anyone who goes there dies.

i can lead you to one of their kind.

do you copy?

put some tea on. we'll be up in a minute.

i'll let you live.

we've been hitting them pretty hard.

this was the best you could do?

were you able to eliminate them?

looks like we made it. get ready for landing.

according to records, you're quite a soldier. we could really use you.

that was some pretty impressive flying.

can i at least buy you a drink?

i believe you two have met.

i'm surprised to see this place is still standing.

i'll take my chances down here.

we'll watch the doors.

can we talk business?

i'm only here for repairs.

you wanna come back here and try this? be my guest!

i'm sure we can work something out.

i cannot train him.

you've seen what he can do.

i must get back to the village.

i've seen him do things i can't explain.

show yourself. i've been expecting you.

you will learn nothing from me.

surrender, or face the consequences.

we must find a way to free them.

my price is high.

i believe this is your payment.

you made me a promise, and i held up my end.

your bounty hunter failed.

if you want my armor, you'll have to peel it off my dead body.

i give my allegiance to no one.

nice shot.

you look like you've just seen a ghost.

you may think you have some idea of what you're in possession of, but you do not.

it's all the same to these people.

hey, i'm just a realist. i'm a survivor, just like you.

let's get one thing straight. you and i are nothing alike.

everybody's got their line they don't cross until things get messy.

you did what you had to do.

everybody thinks they want freedom, but what they really want is order.

we got company. hang on.

you get to the roof. i'll drop in and pull you out.

hey, if you want to accuse me of something, then just say it.

let's just say they might recognize my face.

you're not going alone. i'm coming with you.

that's not how this works.

that was some nice shooting back there.

wish i could say it looked good on you, but i'd be lying.

i can't go in there.

are you a jedi?

that's who you belong with.

may the force be with you.

you're a disgrace to your armor.

i've heard your voice thousands of times.

i thought you were dead.

don't be afraid.

drop your weapon.

don't worry about me. just be careful in there.

i need your help.

you're sparing my life?

open the doors.

i suggest you shut your mouth.

[stardust-and-snickerdoodles]

you're not in the dark; but far from the light pt. 1

fandom: The Mandalorian

pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

summary: After a bounty hunt gone wrong, Din must take care of your wounds and watch over your recovery. Things get dicey, buckle up!

tags/warnings: angst, injury, blood, fevers, hallucinations, hurt/comfort

word count: 2848

a/n: i've been writing on ao3 and suddenly remembered i have a tumblr. here you go.

That whole thing about your life flashing before your eyes before you die is bullshit.

You didn’t think you’d ever be in a position to make that conclusion, but considering you were working with the most fearsome bounty hunter in the galaxy, it wasn’t too far-fetched.

It was foolish to think that the two of you would get off scot-free, with the fact that the quarry you were hunting was a bounty hunter herself. Despite the considerable skill shared between you and Din, she’d managed to get the drop on you and now had you running on a wild goose chase around the galaxy. In fact, it had gotten to the point where even Din was wondering if she was worth it.

But then, just as it seemed you’d be chasing her around until the Empire came back to power, she holed up in a remote corner of a remote planet hardly occupied by anyone else. Part of you sensed that it may be a trap, but you were so eager to get this over with that you didn’t voice your concerns to Din. Perhaps if you had, you wouldn’t be in this mess.

Now, Din is crouched behind a large boulder with you, engaged in what seems to be a never-ending exchange of blaster shots.

“We can’t do this forever,” you shout to him over the noise.

Din lets out a grunt of agreement as he rises to fire off another shot. “Any ideas?”

You breathe out a heavy rush of air and rack your mind. “Alright,” you start, tapping a finger against your blaster anxiously, “I’m gonna run out there and draw her fire. After that, you go around and get an angle behind her. Hopefully she won’t notice you with me distracting her.”

Din shakes his head. “Absolutely not,” he insists, his voice as harsh as it can be through his helmet’s modulator. “If anyone’s running into the line of fire, it’s going to be me.”

“I’m a smaller target,” you counter, trying to match his persistence. You rise to fire off a few quick shots in the direction of the quarry before sinking down again. “I’m faster and I can get to cover more easily.”

Din is silent as he considers this. He knows you’re right; he just doesn’t want to admit it. Finally, he gives you the briefest of nods. “You get to cover as fast as you can, okay?” Is that a hint of worry tinting his voice?

You nod back. You have no desire to be shot today. “On my count,” you say back. “One, two, three!”

If perhaps you had been listening instead of discussing your plans with Din, you would’ve noticed that the opposing blaster fire had stopped in the middle of your conversation. Or if you’d waited another few seconds, the quarry would’ve come right to your hiding spot as she’d been planning to do. If you hadn’t been distracting Din with your talk of strategy, maybe he would’ve heard the approaching footsteps.

Instead, you stand and race out into the open clearing, only to come face-to-face with your quarry. Before you can even be surprised, she’s drawn a long blade from a sheath on her thigh and sunk it into your abdomen.

Your knees have hardly hit the ground before Din fires off three shots into the quarry’s chest. In tandem, both you and the quarry fall to the ground limply. The blade is still embedded in your torso, blood leaking sluggishly from around it. Your breath comes out in quick, short bursts.

The adrenaline stops you from feeling most of the pain, but it still hurts like hell. Now is when you imagine life might flash before your eyes, since it really does feel like you’re dying.

Instead, you find yourself watching the sky disappear behind Din’s helmet. The sun bounces off the shiny metal and nearly blinds you.

“Y/N?” Din’s voice is panicked and rushed as he slides to his knees next to you.

You say his name in a small whimper, hands grasping for anything to hold on to. Eventually they find purchase on a bit of fabric under his chestplate, and you try desperately to pull him closer to you.

“Dank farrik,” Din murmurs as he notes the blade still sticking out of you. “I’m so sorry, cyar’ika, this is going to hurt.”

You don’t even have time to ask what he means before Din’s hands are on you, applying heavy pressure around the wound. You let out a gut-wrenching cry as you see stars, the pain suddenly overwhelming. Your head spins as you weakly scrabble against his hands, trying to relieve the pressure.

“Ni ceta, ni ceta,” Din’s voice is broken but you hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears.

You beg for him to stop, the pain overpowering your rationality. If you were lucid and comfortable, you would’ve understood how vital his actions were. Right now, though, all you know is that what he’s doing is hurting you, and you want it to stop.

Din is hardly holding it together as it is, but hearing your agonized cries is almost enough to do him in. On the one hand, he desperately hopes that you remain conscious so he could assure himself of your survival. On the other, he wants nothing more than for you to pass out so he doesn’t have to hear you beg anymore.

 “Cyar’ika, I need you to hold pressure for me,” Din says, trying to pull himself together.

“No, please,” you plead, “it hurts.”

“I know, my love, I know. But I need to stabilize the wound so we can get back to the ship. I can’t do that with my hands here.” Din looks at you intently from under the visor, hoping to convey his desperation even to your pain-addled mind.

“Can’t you just take it out?” You whimper.

Din shakes his head as a wave of anxiety consumes him. Usually, you’re good with this type of thing, injuries and the like. It isn’t like you to consider taking out a penetrating object without the proper supplies. He knows the pain must be affecting you more than he initially thought. “You’d bleed out. We have to wait to get back to the Crest.”

His words seem to get through to you because eventually you suck in as deep a breath you can muster and lay your hands over his.

“Hold tight, I know it hurts. But you need to hold it as hard as you can.”

You nod and press down, suppressing another strangled cry.

“Good girl,” Din whispers as he reaches for the medpack in his bag. He opens it and is grateful he doesn’t have to hide the disappointment on his face when he notices its sparseness. Fortunately, there’s just enough gauze that he can stabilize the knife, and he knows there is more aboard the Crest.

Instructing you to remove your hands, he pads the sides of the blade with rolls of gauze before wrapping around them with another. He tries to dissociate from your pained cries as he manipulates your torso to wrap the gauze.

“Time to go, love,” he says, cupping your cheek with a gloved hand. Your eyes are half-lidded and Din knows that you’re running out of time. He needs to get this blade out and close the wound fast.

With his heart in his throat, Din reaches under you to cradle you in his arms. You let out the most heartrending scream yet as he lifts you. With each quick step Din takes, the pain blossoms throughout your abdomen.

“Stay with me, cyar’ika,” Din murmurs as he finally approaches the ramp to the Crest.

“’M right here,” you slur, blood loss making you feel lightheaded and airy.

“Good, that’s good,” Din reassures, more to himself than to you. He sets you down on your cot in the cargo hold, being careful not to jostle your wound more than necessary. He tries not to feel so anxious when you hardly make a noise to register the movement. “I’m just going to get some supplies; you hang in there.”

“M’kay,” you murmur, barely even recognizing what you’re agreeing to. Your eyes slip closed for a moment before you remember that you’re supposed to be awake. Wait, are you supposed to be awake? It would be so nice to sleep… But Din. Where’s Din? “Din?” You call out, eyes suddenly wide with panic. “Din!” you cry and the pain reappears in your abdomen.

Heavy footsteps approach you quickly and you try to turn to see who’s coming but the pain prevents movement. “What is it?” Din’s voice is a welcome relief.

You let out a long rush of breath. “I thought you left me,” you whisper.

“I told you I was getting supplies,” Din says, doing his best to keep the worry out of his voice at your forgetfulness.

“Right,” you nod slightly, the memory slowly coming back to you. “Din?”

“Yes?” Din replies as he sets up supplies to remove the blade from your abdomen.

“Did we get the quarry?”

“Yes, love,” Din takes a moment to cradle your cheek in his hand again, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. You notice he’s removed his gloves and can’t help but lean into his soft touch just a bit. “Don’t worry about that anymore. Let’s just focus on you.”

You nod your agreement as best you can.

Din talks to you in a gentle voice as he goes about ensuring he has everything he needs: more gauze, bacta spray, antiseptic, water for you to drink. He sets the cauterizer aside just in case, but prays that his own less-than-stellar suturing skills will satisfy. With slow and careful movements, he snips through the gauze around your abdomen to clear the field.  Once he can no longer delay the inevitable, he looks at you through the visor of his helmet. “I need to remove the blade now, my love.”

You nod again, watching as his hands settle around the handle of the knife. “I trust you,” you murmur, meeting the approximate location of his eyes behind the helmet.

Nothing could have prepared Din for the blood-curdling scream you release as he extracts the blade. He works quickly to pack the wound, which now rushes with fresh blood. Before he’s even finished, your head lolls and your eyes drift shut.

Din panics for a brief moment, reaching with one hand to wrap around your wrist and feels for your pulse. It’s weak, but there, and Din goes back to treating your wound.

…

You wake only a few minutes later to find Din applying a bacta spray to your now barely bleeding abdomen. The feeling is warm and tingly as your frayed cells attempt to knit themselves together. “Din,” you mumble, eyes still half closed.

Din’s head shoots up and he puts the spray aside. “Y/N,” he breathes, your name like a prayer on his lips. “I stitched you up. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” you reply honestly. The pain is diminished now, and you feel grateful that you’ve missed the suturing, as it’s always made you uncomfortable.

“Good.” Din’s shoulders relax as some of the tension leaves his body. You’re nowhere near out of the woods yet, but at least you’re not bleeding out anymore. “It looks like the knife missed anything vital but it’s still a fairly sizeable wound. I’ll need to keep a close eye on it.”

You reach up toward him but with the confusion and the blood loss, you have no sense of direction. Din senses your desire though and captures your hand in his own. Your fingers are cold in his warm palms. “Thank you,” you murmur.

Din leans down and rests his helmet against your forehead. “Sleep now, cyar’ika. I’m right here.”

…

The next time you wake, it’s to Din holding a cup of broth beside you. He helps you sit up and gently coaxes you to take a few sips, insisting that you need to regain your strength. You manage to swallow down a bit, but the pain prevents you from staying upright for long. He reassures you that you can try again later.

The next three days pass in quick flashes of wakefulness. Each time, Din is there, changing your dressings or offering you more broth. By the morning of the third day, you almost feel a bit of your strength returning, and even manage to finish the whole cup of broth.

Unfortunately, when it rains, it pours.

…

It’s unbearably cold when you wake in the middle of the fourth night. Your entire body is wracked with shivers and your teeth chatter against each other uncomfortably.

Din is by your side in an instant, pressing a bare hand to your forehead. “Dank farrik,” he grumbles, rushing to retrieve the medpack.

“Din,” you slur as he returns. “’M so cold.”

“I know,” Din replies, hastily ripping open the medpack. “You have a fever. I’m guessing your wound is infected.”

“Oh,” is all you can manage to reply before you drift back off into a restless sleep.

…

When you come to again there are voices in the ship. One sounds vaguely like your mother. She’s urging you to wake up.

“I’m awake,” you grumble, trying to swat away the bees that are crawling around your face. “Leave me ‘lone. Wan’ sleep.”

“Cyar’ika,” your mother says, “you’re dreaming. You’re safe. I’m here.”

You never knew your mother could speak Mando’a.

For a while, the bees don’t let you fall back asleep. You want to reach out and swat them away but someone holds a firm grip on your wrists.

“Get the bees ‘way,” you whine, pulling weakly against their hold.

“Shh,” your mother reassures. “You were hurting yourself. I have you.”

 The other voices are all jumbled and you can’t make out anything in particular. Everything feels hazy and unfamiliar. The only thing that comes through semi-clearly is the burning ache in your stomach.

…

A while later, something cold rests on your forehead and you reach to remove it. It’s uncomfortable and you’re already cold enough.

“Leave that,” one of the voices murmurs. You think it may be your mother again, but she sounds like a man. Your hand falls from your face and you drift off again.

…

There is an ocean in your head and in your ears and behind your eyes and you think it might be nice to go take a swim in it. It would be so nice and cool.

…

When lucidity finally claims you again, it is with the sudden realization that you’re hardly dressed. You’re still clothed in a pair of shorts and a tank top, but it’s definitely not what you wore when you were injured. You feel reassured by the fact that there is a thin blanket covering you, but you question the change of dress anyway.

“Y/N?” Din’s voice comes from close beside you. “Are you with me?”

“Why am I naked?” you mumble by way of response.

“You had a very high fever from the infection. I had to cool you off quickly.”

You peek open your eyes slightly to see the Mandalorian sitting next to you on the floor of the cargo hold. “Am I gonna be okay?” you whisper.

Din squeezes your hand in his. “Yes, my love. Your fever broke last night and the infection seems to be calming down.”

“How long was I out?”

Din is silent for a long moment. You figure it must have been bad if he’s like this. “Three days,” he finally replies. You can hear the tiredness in his voice.

Silence stretches between you, the weight of his words hanging in the air. “Have you slept?” you ask.

Din huffs out a laugh. Leave it to you to be concerned about his wellbeing while you’re recovering from a stab wound. “I’m okay, cyar’ika. I can sleep now knowing you are on the mend.”

You hesitate to speak as he moves to rise from your side, but the feeling of his hand leaving yours is too much to bear. “Lay with me?” you ask shyly.

Din looks down at you and, not for the first time, you wish you could see his expression. Before you can apologize or overthink your request, he crouches back down. “Not here,” he murmurs, before reaching under you to carry you to his own bunk. You nuzzle yourself against his chest and notice the absence of his beskar armor.

He lays you down gently on the bed first, leaving enough room for himself. “Close your eyes,” he murmurs and you comply. You hear the familiar hissing sound of his helmet releasing, before the warmth of his body is behind you. He fits snugly around you, one arm resting across your waist but being careful to avoid your wound.

You let out a sigh of satisfaction, feeling secure in his hold.

“Rest, cyar’ika,” he says, chest rumbling against your back. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

>>>

part 2

[anonymous-dentist]

Bobby and Roier die together in the midst of a robot uprising 1,678 years after Bobby was born and seven galaxies away. They stop the revolution from happening a thousand years before its time, but at what cost?

Two hours later, Roier sits in another man’s clothes holding Jaiden’s hand as they watch Bobby’s body float peacefully into a black hole. They’re side-by-side sitting in the TARDIS’ doorway, and the universe, for once, is completely still.

“I’m sorry,” Roier croaks, not for the first time. But he’s still surprised by the sound of his own voice, he doesn’t know whose voice it is yet.

Jaiden shakes her head. Tearfully, she leans her head onto Roier’s shoulder.

“Nah,” she says. “Don’t be. He was a hero.”

“He was stupid. I told him not to follow me, and- ugh!”

Roier groans and throws his head back in frustration. God. Damnit!!

Jaiden sniffs. “Don’t be a dick. He saved an entire planet.”

“Yes, and? He still died.”

“So did you, so. So stop moping, okay? Look at him.”

She reaches up with her free hand and guides Roier’s head until it’s facing front again. They watch together as Bobby sinks into the event horizon, and it’s kind of nice, isn’t it? He’s frozen, now. Eternal. You can’t see past the event horizon of a black hole, there’s kinda just nothing beyond it. Just Bobby forever.

Dead.

“I’m looking,” Roier says, words all smushed together by Jaiden smushing his cheeks. “Maybe we should’ve done an actual funeral.”

“This is a funeral. He asked for it, and we gave it to him.”

It’s true. When Roier and Jaiden first met their little stowaway, Bobby hijacked the TARDIS’ controls and steered them towards the nearest black hole just so he could try and kill it. Even after giving up on that whole thing, he insisted that he’d get to fight a black hole one day. He might’ve been a kid, but he was gonna grow up eventually!!

Well. Look at how that turned out, hah.

Roier lets out a quiet laugh through his nose and averts his eyes.

The life of a Time Lord is a lonely one. Being immortal is one thing, but having your entire DNA structure and personality changed every time you die is another. Keeping friends is hard, and keeping them alive is harder.

(Roier curls his left hand into a fist.)

Humans are social creatures, though, and Roier loves them. Sure, he might be a freaky time-traveling alien, but humans are kinda like intergalactic cockroaches, and they can actually cook decent meals, and they were the first creatures in their galaxy to discover the concept of love, so Roier can’t not take them with him when they want to see the stars.

“I want to go home,” Jaiden quietly says.

Roier lets out a breath and nods. “Okay.”

Neither of them moves. They watch their dead son circle the black hole he’s always dreamed of killing, and they cry, and this is it, isn’t it? The end of an era. No more Familioier because Bobby is dead and the Roier that Jaiden met and knew and loved died with him and was replaced with some goofy dude with a new face and new voice and blegh. No wonder she wants to go home, her son is dead and her best friend was replaced with a stranger.

Still. It was nice when it lasted.

-

So Jaiden goes home. Roier drops her off five minutes from when he first picked her up almost a year ago. He even managed to get her in the right city, hell yeah! (Apparently he’s good at driving now, go figure?)

She hugs Roier and makes him promise to come and get her only when she calls him, and she’ll know if he does some time travel bullshit to get her before he’s ready, because she just knows him like that. She’s his best friend, and she’s the best human he’s ever known.

They hug one more time outside of the TARDIS, and then Roier is alone again.

He slips back into the TARDIS and closes the door behind him. He leans against the wall next to it and looks down at his ring and idly rubs it with his thumb.

“Goddamnit,” he mutters.

Time Lords have 12 ‘lives’ before they die. They change each time, both physically and mentally. It’s some metaphysical biochemical bullshit Roier doesn’t care too much about, but. But he’s on life number 12 now. One more death, and they might even get to see each other in the cosmic abyss. He can introduce him to Bobby, wouldn’t that be nice?

…Nah! He isn’t dead! Sure, he might’ve disappeared during the War, but so did, like, half of the planet, and most of those Time Lords have turned up. Some haven’t, but most have! What’s to say he isn’t any different? He’s probably in jail or something, wouldn’t that be crazy?

Roier smiles to himself. Hell yeah, prison time? Time for prison? He’s only got an infinite number of prisons in an infinite number of galaxies in an infinite number of years to dig through, easy!

He’s halfway to the TARDIS’ controls when he hears it: a quick, panicked-sounding knock-knock-knock on the TARDIS’ doors. Which should not be happening, the TARDIS is literally another dimension stuck inside a box, it’s soundproof! What the fuck!

Hesitantly, Roier goes to the door. His hand hovers over the handle until he hears another round of knocking. Then, he swings the door open to see… a guy.

A very surprised-looking guy. Human, probably, though you can never be too sure these days. Green shirt, messy hair, slight beard, chain necklace leading under his shirt. Nice-looking, if not kinda super visibly terrified out of his mind.

Roier’s son has been dead for an hour and a half. He still hasn’t gotten a chance to see what he looks like now- for all he knows, he could be, like, ugly, ew. His best friend has left him to grieve all by himself because she needed to grieve by herself, and he is starting to get just a little bit annoyed by, like. Everything.

Still, he tries to smile when he asks, “Hello? Can I help you?”

“Um,” says the guy, “hi. Sorry to bother you. But… help?”

Giving Roier absolutely no time to think about it, the man ducks under Roier’s arm and runs into the TARDIS, and he only halfway gasps when he sees the whole pocket dimension inside.

Roier briefly wonders, ‘what the fuck?’

And then he sees what this guy was clearly running from: a bipedal robotic polar bear thing easily the size of a horse running towards Roier and the TARDIS with a gun pulled.

Ah.

Roier closes the door and listens as the bear shoots his beloved spaceship. (Piece of shit…!)

That’ll do it.

[burntb4bydoll]

Reunion segz with Bill maybe? Getting back together with him after a bad fight or maybe you’re his ex from his early tokio hotel days/you’re an ex member of the band 🤭🤭

I got another request very similar to this that i haven’t done yet so here you go lol!!

Bill Kaulitz x Reader

Summery: you see Bill at a party after not seeing him since you broke up

Warnings: unprotected sex, maybe a little bit of scratching, sappy reunion ngl, Bill being protective of you🤭 idfk you guy just have cute fluffy sex??

You walk into your friends house and are immediately hit with the scent of alcohol and weed. The house was dimly lit so you couldn’t really recognize anyone in the room. Sighing, you walk towards the kitchen. You weren’t necessarily in the partying mood, you really only came because your friend begged you to. Which you thought was kinda strange because usually they arent so insistent on making you come to things like this. And of course the person who invited you was no where to be found.

You took a step outside by the pool and thats when you saw him. Bill fucking Kaulitz, your ex boyfriend, standing by your friend and a couple random people. Now it makes sense why your friend wanted you to come so bad. You had just recently told them how you missed him. Bill looked away from whoever he was talking to and locked eyes with you. His eyes widened as he watched you from across the patio. God, you could just die right now. The way he’s looking st you like your the most beautiful being on the planet makes your heart beat faster.

“Hey y/n! Come over here!” Your friend called out. You felt your heart drop when you realized there was no hiding from him. He stared at you the whole time you were walking over. “Y/nnn im so glad you’re here, look did you see Bil-“ you cut them off by pulling them away from the scene.

“What the hell? Why didn’t you tell me he would be here?!” You whisper-yelled at your clearly drunk friend. They just laughed and handed you their drink.

“Y/n its fineee just have a drink and calm down!”

“Fine? F/n. I look like shit, and I am not anywhere near ready to see him without rethinking our whole break up-“

Someone slammed there body into yours, causing you to stumble into a nearby table. The person was clearly pissed off and drunk. They took a step towards you and you backed up.

“Watch it dumbass! Get the fuck out of the way next time!” Before you could say anything you saw someone come up behind the angry man and yank him away from you. No fucking way. It was Bill. You’re stomach erupted with butterflies when you saw how protective he still was over you.

“Don’t talk to her like that! You’re the one who can’t handle your fucking alcohol.” Your jaw dropped at his tone towards the other man. You hadn’t even talked to him since you guys broke up, and he still cares about you? You grabbed Bills arm and tugged on it a bit, trying to get his attention.

“Its ok, he’s just drunk he’s probably not even gonna remember this. Just calm down.” He let go of the guys shirt and gave him a shove in thr opposite direction. “Thank you. I would have been alright though Bill.” He clicks his tongue and looks down at you.

“Yeah well, I’m not gonna let anyone treat you like that. You don’t deserve it.” His voice comes out softer than you expected. You couldn’t help but smile at the sweet man in front of you. “Do you wanna go somewhere else and talk..?” He asked, shifting nervously.

“Um, yeah..yeah sure.” You tried to hide the shake in your voice as you followed him out of the backyard and up the stairs of your friends house. Once you reach your friends guest room, both of you step closer to each other. You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth

“Bill, I miss you..”

“Shit.. I miss you too.”

Neither of you moved. You just stood there, inches away from each other. Your eyes move from his to look at his lips until he grabbed your face and kissed you. You close your eyes and hum at the familiar feeling of his lips on yours. He pushes your body against the door, successfully keeping you in place.

“Missed you so bad Bill. Feels so lonely without you.” You mumbled against his lips. Bill softly moans at your words.

“I never stopped loving you honey. ‘Could never love someone else the way I love you. Your my soulmate.” You could hear the genuineness of his words. You whimper quietly, trying to hold back tears. “Hey, hey no. Don’t cry sweetheart, I’m here now. I can’t let you go again.” You pull him back down to kiss you again, running your hands through his soft hair. He spread your legs with his knee and lifts it up to rest against your clothed heat. (I actually hate that im sorry) You let out a shocked gasp and put your arms around his neck to support yourself.

“Bill please, ‘want you so bad. I need you.” You use the most sweet tone, hoping to convince him to not tease you. He smiles widely and laughs a little.

“Ok, ok hun, are you sure? I don’t want this to be something you regret.” His giggly tone faded into a concerned one. You lean up to kiss the corner of his lips,

“Of course I’m sure Bill. Fuck, I mean I’ve thought about this every day since we broke up.” His smile returned and he kisses your forehead.

“Lets get these and pants off of you you, yeah?” You giggled and nodded watching him pull down your pants and underwear. He slipped his hand between your legs and groaned. “Shit, you really did miss me.” He teases, knowing damn well he’s just as needy for you. He pulls his hand away from you and pulled his own pants off. He goes to take off your shirt but you stop him,

“No, no just fuck me please. I need to feel you now.” You whine to him, practically begging.

“Alright sweetie calm down, I got you.” He picks you up, making you wrap your legs around his hips. He lined his tip up with your entrance and leaves little kisses on your face as he pushes into you. You groan and dig your nails into his shoulder. He doesn’t even let you catch your breath before thrusting his hips into yours.

“God you feel so good! Needed your dick inside me so bad!” You moan, not even caring about how desperate you sound.

“I know, I missed this fucking pussy. So perfect for me, so so perfect.” Both of you were basically high off of each other’s presence, having been so close for so long then not seeing each other for months. He speeds up his thrusts and grips your hips tightly. You feel euphoric, running your hands all over his body, trying to feel every part of him.

“B-bill I’m gonna~ shit I’m so close please don’t stop!” You yelped, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shhh. Its ok honey, cum for me, please. Please cum.” Both of you were begging for each other, but neither of you felt any shame. You both knew you were meant for each other. You arch your back and let your orgasm rush through you. Bill whimpers at the feeling and his hips stutter. He finishes inside you and you are both left panting and groaning.

“Would you please take me back y/n?”

[reareaotaku]

Jealous/Yandere! Stanley Barber Headcanons

He hates the feeling so much

Like, he's happy that you're happy, but he wishes you were happy with him

He's used to the depressing feeling, but that doesn't mean he likes you

He just watches you, feeling like shit

He knows you don't owe him anything, but god he loves you so much

Why don't you see it? Are you playing with his feelings?

It sure feels that way

He'll do anything for you. Practically drops everything for you, but sometimes he feels like you wouldn't do the same

He listens to all of your problems and rants. He doesn't mind. In fact, he loves to listen to you talk

He loves laying in bed, feeling your body close to his as you rant about something stupid/ whatever it is you want to talk about

He gives you this loving look and has this stupid smile on his face

You occupy every part of his mind

He gets really giddy around you and he can't help wanting to do whatever it is to make you happy/smile

Loves doing karoke/singing with you

It doesn't matter if you sing terribly. He doesn't care, he still loves hearing it

You never have to be embarrassed around you, because he's definitely more embarrassed

Like, say someone embarrassed you in class or you got called on without knowing the answer [You get the gist], he'll take attention off of you by doing something stupid so that people will laugh at him instead of you

He doesn't get it when you have insecurities, because he loves you so much it hurts his heart

What do you mean you don't like your body? He thinks you're the hottest thing on the planet

Don't like the way you talk?? He can listen to you all day [etc etc]

If you ever have an argument with your parent[s], then you can always rant to him about it

Even if you're in the wrong, he's on your side and adamantly defending you

You can say that the grass is blue and he'll be like 'Yeah, looks pretty blue to me'

But, back to the parent thing, he doesn't have a good relationship with his dad, so he completely understands fighting with a parent

He really wants to ask you out, but he's scared that you'll not only reject him, but it'll ruin your friendship. He'd rather die than lose your friendship

He's pretty in denial about his feelings. Like he knows he's in love with you, but if someone calls him out on it, he rolls his eyes while shaking his head, adamantly denying it, but nobodies buying it [Expect you]

"You don't like me?" You'll ask, trying not to cry

Something inside him breaks when seeing you tear up. He doesn't want you to cry- Especially if HE's the reason you're crying

"Of course I like you!"

"Then why did you laugh and roll your eyes?"

He's at a loss for words. What is he supposed to say? 'Oh, yes Y/n. I am so in love with you that I would throw my whole life away and run across the country and start a new life with you if you asked because I love you more than the need to breath'. No, he can't say that. He'll just tell you it's complicated

[olderthannetfic]

Here to mope. Someone for whom horny fandom is a very important mineral in my diet, but for some reason each time I've got a good dynamic / exchange / roleplaying thread going, my partner drops off the face of the earth and then a few days later they're vagueblogging about being lonely or having social disconnection on Tumblr. Not just one person. Like - the girls and the gays and the ND weirdos apparently all WANT to find connection but I seem to be the only mf who can set a schedule for [1/4]

--

[mope message pt 2] checking my messages and exchange at least a few wooden words when I'm depressed so that each little shoot of connection I plant doesn't wither and die. And there's this idea that the person with Less Issues should pick up the slack but being always expected to be the one who goes /to/ the other person feels like rejection and I don't really get why it's not an equal social faux pas to do that /to/ /me/ than to expect my fellow NDs to like, establish some rote personal [mope message pt 3] hygiene. Like it's the pettiest problem in the world for me to have - fine, this doesn't affect my ability to pay bills and I Have Friends - but I'm starving for a yuriful fujoshi connection and yet only the straight guys swarming me offline seem to put in the effort ... (while I get, I think, perceived As straight and further isolated from the gay community because like I'm gonna spend Some attention on people who invite me to things and don't drop off the planet for a month [message part 4] without checking in about how /I/ feel about that when they Reappear ... like, I don't feel like I'm asking for a lot here.

I eventually had to cut people who don't get that I too can feel rejected out of my life.

[frostbitebakery]

Surrender AU WIP Sunday

I’m just throwing this out so I can continue with it. Once it’s done, all of Surrender will go on AO3.

Are you still there?

.

He wants to howl with rage and grief. Pieces of armor crush under his fingers, his knees sink into the ground.

The world is too blurry. Made up of blobs and a singing blue light razing through what’s left of the battlefield.

“Commander?”

90,000 thousand clones and the bile stacks up at the back of his throat.

“Commander!”

.

Are you still there?

.

He wants to swallow. He shakes his head instead. “If we break open left flank—“

“Negative. Intel relays there’s reinforcements on the way. The troops would be trapped.”

“Like Doom’s aren’t?” he barks and straightens when the captain shrinks back.

“If we drop from above?” Obi-Wan suggests, rotating the holo of the topography, and Cody wants to shake him by the back of his neck.

“There’s no room,” Boil says, “we’d be squished together with no maneuverability.”

There’s no approach, no fault line to be exploited, no weakness. The CIS presence is overwhelming the troops, the planet, and the trade route that serves billions of sentients.

There’s a rushing in his hands, a tingling in his ears. He wants to be blind. Deaf. Mute. Blind, deaf, mute,

“Cody,” Doom speaks up on the comm and Cody watches him slowly take off his bucket. The sweat on his brow, the resignation in his eyes. There’s a spot of blood under his nose which Cody can’t look away from. “With everything you got.”

He watches their fleet’s arsenal bomb the continent. Feels the rust build up over his heart as his siblings die by friendly fire.

.

Are you still safe?

.

“I can’t!”

“Please.”

“I— I— Cody, I can’t. There’s… a blockade. Within me. I can’t.”

“Please,” he cries, desperation shaking him and throwing him down and he can taste ashes. “Please.”

“All— …all right.”

.

Are you still there?

.

“I’m sorry,” he says, cradles beige tunics and copper hair and blue, hollow eyes close. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“You did,” Obi-Wan says faintly against his collarbone. “You did mean it.”

The howling and rushing comes back with new tears running into the hiccups. “And it worked,” he doesn’t say, just clutches Obi-Wan closer to himself. Maybe if he can make them one person…

.

Are you still safe?

.

“As of 3 AM, standard, the whole of the 104th battalion has received critical hits.”

There’s something brewing underneath his skin, in the sacrifices his muscles bear.

“Master Koon?” Obi-Wan asks next to him, stone-faced and tense.

“I’m afraid the whole battalion was wiped out.”

.

Are you still there?

.

The lightsaber leaves a dent in the wall.

“Bloody useless,” Obi-Wan murmurs, paces like a caged animal, scarred hands flexing weakly, “stupid things.”

[threepandas]

The Vod's List: Part 3

The Separatist Army tries invade the Techganic homeworld and DIES SCREAMING.

I... I am cackling like a broken laugh 'track, in a low Senatorial staff seating area. Pretty sure everyone thinks I've lost my chips. But... BUT THEY DON'T GET IT! It's so FUNNY!? Oh Bones and Blood! Oh karking STARS!!! Of all the kriffing PLANETS to PHYSICALLY INVADE with DROIDS!!!

DROIDS!

I am wheezing. Gasping for air. Slowly tipping out of my chair as I all but seize silently in spasms of sheer, incredulous, amusement. Oh Stars, I'm gonna die. My gut is on fire and I DONT CARE. Droids! Just... just DROPPED UM right into the capitals like "here ya go! Surrender flesh bags!"

Pfffahahahahaha!

I finally slip, only for a gloved hand to catch my shoulder gently, keeping me from crashing to the floor. A calculated step and lift, brings my shoulder to brace against the side of familiar armor. A guard. I manage to glance up through my incoherent laughing fit. I know that armor!

"Fox!" I grin, glad I am starting to be able to tell the gaurds apart. It always felt rude to have to keep asking their names, even when I by all rights SHOULD already know them. "Good morning."

"Ma'am." He nods. I still don't get why people think they're 'emotionless'. Even through the voicecoder, his voice is warm. "Funny joke?"

"The Separatists invaded my planet." I laugh. At his questioning head tilt, I grin MEANLY from behind my mask. "Remember how we met? And you got infected? EVERYONE on my planet is some version of carrier, either Organic or Technological. Depending on where those droids land? They are either FOOD or free scrap metal. The Collective will EAT them. And folks back home?"

I glanced around, trying to find the room's cameras. Fox casually pointed before stepping between it's line of sight and me. Kriff he was so cool. I grabbed one of the old datapads I was supposed to dump in the recycler after my break. No one would miss if I threw one in the biohazard shoot instead... probably.

I turned it on. Showing it worked. A perfectly functioning, if old, datapad. Then? I listened to that old, old, OLD instinct in the back of my head that karking HATED technology. That honestly would be happier living in a stone shack on a distant moon, surrounded by growth. That could, at a glance, pick apart any given peice of technology's weak points.

Not to slice it. Or IMPROVE it. But to BREAK it. Irreparably.

My eyes found the weak point in the screen almost immediately. A point where fingers had worn it thin. Smack! I cracked it against the table, like an animal trying to open trying to open a nut. It cracked. And that was all I needed. All ANY of us would ever need, really.

Just One Little Crack.

I pulled off my mask, knowing my face was probably doing that... THING. That "super intent Murder Hunter" thing that we all do, when our instincts engage. But I wanted to show Fox. I trusted him. So I flexed my jaw and thought of the lift, of how me met, the STRESS. Just enough to get a bit of drool.

Then... I let it drop onto the screen.

The reaction, was of course, IMMEDIATE.

The datapad hissed and squealed, screen glitching violently. I carefully put it down, familiar with what was about to happen. Fox... was not. He watched. Frozen. Entranced. As the datapad burned and melted from within. Was CONSUMED. As my nanites wrecked hell in their final moments before dying, no longer supported by my body. Some of course, simply falling dormant.

Those were the lethal ones. The trap for future Collective members trying to reclaim tech. It's why all infected materials had to be treated as a biohazard. Those nanites stayed viable for upwards of a century AT LEAST. Several, in the right condition.

So droids? Ha! We were BIOENGINEERED to fight "droids"! We WERE the original GAR. What was that Human saying? "Nothing new in the Galaxy?" That.

Fox was taking even, measured, breaths. Clenching and unclenching his hand. His voice sounded... strained, as he agreed. That, yes. We WERE very, VERY alike. And that that was FASCINATING. Could his spit do that now too?

I... didn't know. Huh.

I blinked. First up at him. Then down at the 'pad. I hadn't considered that. Kriff. Well THAT was irresponsible of me. Yeah, yeah we should probably schedule some Techganic 101 lessons, shouldn't we? Since... you know, assuming you SURVIVE infection and first "heal"? It's kinda a one and done sort of thing.

You can't get... double infected? It very much IS a you ARE or you AREN'T a carrier. And even THEN... one of two kinds, which CAN NOT peacefully coexist.

Plus... since it's adapted to the Guards biology, a spread would be SUPER easy?

.........I..... I SHOULD tell someone.

But what would happen to Fox? I'm not blind. People aren't exactly... KIND to Clones. Would they decide its just easier to get rid of him? My gut say probably. Experience says likely. I've barely even STARTED working at the Senate and... well...

Maybe I should keep my mouth shut. WE should keep our mouth shut.

"This time, I'll be the one looking out for YOU, kay Fox?"

"Of course. I'll leave my self in your capable hands. I have no doubt... I'll learn A LOT."

There is something intent about the way he stands, the way he's bracketing me into my chair. The almost soft, warm but cloying quality to his voice. Like he's trying not to make it obvious he's handling me. Like I'm some import dignitary he wants to avoid upsetting. But one he LIKES. It's strange... I'm certain I'm missing something...

At least I have plenty of other Guards around to ask.