#is the tag for previous art offers i’ve had open and some of the things i do

[leadendeath]

the time has come. i am going to get a dedicated scanner.

i have a good amount in my pɑʏpɑ| savings which i was gonna put towards a better computer, but, eh. this is something i need more as a traditional artist tbh.

done some research and quickly decided on the one i want. i can only get one secondhand (brand new is way too expensive), which is fine, and luckily they're popular and not rare, so new listings come up pretty frequently, trending around 250.

^what i'm aiming to get, and what i have currently for transparency^

pay what you want comms are open.

i'd like to aim for getting 250 total to be safe, so just want to raise around 80. here's my k-f and pypl. show me your robotic favs/ocs... nobody is safe from getting drawn by me >:) please let me draw for you pleasepleaseplease

friendly reminder: please don't click like- it doesn't help the post get seen- if you don't want to/can't participate then just ignore this post + keep scrolling, that would be much better! thank you

[mprosperossprite]

This post contains discussion of racism, misogyny, and intersection of these ideas in the TOG fandom.

Though the conversation around the racist tropes sometimes employed in depicting Joe is valuable and important, I do not have anything productive to add to that particular conversation. Instead, this post aims to examine the ways in which Nile has largely been overlooked by fan created content for The Old Guard and suggest ways in which each of us as individuals might make this fandom a more inclusive place.

One last preamble: I’m an white woman. I am speaking here from a place of ally-ship. And I am still learning how to best be an anti-racist ally in all elements of my life. This post is coming from the best of my knowledge at the moment, hoping that maybe it’ll make a difference to somebody.

Alright.

I want to begin with a story: a couple of weeks ago in the Book of Nile group chat one of our members noticed that the stories and AU’s and ideas we were constructing for each other the previous week had focused on Booker, had given Booker the extensive backstories, had articulated Booker’s complexity more thoroughly. She posted that she had noticed this along with a note along the lines of “we can’t do better if we don’t recognize the patterns.”

So here’s a pattern that I’ve noticed that is particularly disheartening to me: Nile Freeman, a black woman and the main character of The Old Guard, has the least amount of fanworks created about her.

On AO3 she has the fewest tagged fics. On tumblr, there is much less fan art created for her. In discord servers, Nile is rarely mentioned.

This fandom has become dominated by Joe and Nicky.

I do not mean to discount Joe and Nicky. Their depiction in an action movie is groundbreaking queer representation. They are fascinating individuals and fascinating in how they make their work partnership, romantic and sexual relationship flourish for an unimaginable length of time. Their story touches on themes that have long excited storytellers: the power of love above all, fate’s matches and soulmates.

Nevertheless, the way this fandom has diminished and ignored Nile Freeman is a collective act of misogynoir. All of us are complicit.

Racism is structural. Misogyny is structural. It is no one person’s fault. It is no individual’s moral failing. None of us can single-handedly fix it.

Nile’s erasure from the TOG fandom is nobody’s fault. As the opening anecdote illustrates, even those of us who actively seek out fan communities focused on her are guilty of backburnering Nile to a white man.

But, my experience working in one of the most racist systems in the US has helped me learn that though I can’t individually end racism and misogyny (and other structural inequalities), I can be aware of how my actions might reinforce these structures, and I can make deliberate choices to make my own actions as anti-racist and as feminist as possible.

So, TOG fans who are reading this, I ask you to pay attention to the content you’re creating and consuming in this fandom.

How many stories have you read or written recently that have included Nile as a full, complex character in her own right (and not a catalyst or ancillary support for Joe or Nicky or Booker)?

How much fan-art with Nile has crossed your dash recently? What percentage of it is just Nile reacting to Joe and Nicky?

How many conversations have you had in group chats and discord servers that examine Nile’s backstory, her journey in the film, her future with a fragmented and hurting Old Guard?

How many headcanons have you crafted about Nile’s role in the guard’s little family, about the way her principles and desires might reinforce the others’ views or change them?

Furthermore, I hope that as you do this, you’ll notice the reasons that you haven’t seen or engaged with content about the film’s main character. I urge you to push beyond superficial explanations.

I just like the romance aspect of Joe and Nicky. Okay, but who’s to say Nile can’t have romance too? Booker, Andy, Quynh, heck, even reincarnated Lykon or OC’s or characters from other franchises, are all available to appreciate and love on Nile Freeman.

I usually just have one ship in a fandom. Okay, but what about fic celebrating the joys of an intercultural found family or fic delving into Nile being a badass millennial warrior? Those and others are all stories that are interesting and exciting too!

I just love that Joe and Nicky are canonically queer. Absolutely! Me too! But this isn’t a reason to shun or ignore a character whose heart and intelligence and courage drives the plot of a movie we all claim to love.

And then, once you’ve paid attention, I urge you to make a change, to work against the misogynoir in our fandom. Even small things make a difference.

Reblog just one piece of content where Nile is the focus each time you log into tumblr

Read a fic once a week in which Joe and Nicky aren’t the primary characters

Write a subplot in your current fic which explores an element of Nile’s character

When I said we can all do better, I meant it. I’m not excluded from responsibility. In case you're curious how I’m taking my own advice, here’s my plan:

I’ve been bad about reblogging anything lately, considering reblogs are the lifeblood of tumblr. I’m going to seek out some of the Nile fanart I’ve skimmed over recently and queue it up. This blog is gonna have more Nile than it even did before.

I’m going to keep writing Book of Nile and Joe/Nicky, but I also want to consider Nile’s relationship with Andy and Quynh if it was sexual and romantic and fabulously queer and polyamorous. Gotta finish my current long-fic first, but then there are some fic ideas percolating I hope to get down on paper this summer.

I’m going to seek out Andy/Nile and Andy/Quynh fic on AO3. I haven’t read very much of either of these ships and I want to see more of what these authors have to offer. (If y’all have recs, hit me up!)

So to conclude, we can’t do better if we don’t recognize the patterns. I hope you’ll join me in consciously thinking about whose narratives with the TOG universe are being prioritized and whose narratives are being ignored. I hope you’ll join me in taking action, as small as they might be, to lift up those narratives that have been overlooked due to racism and misogyny that, again, is nobody’s fault but is everyone’s responsibility.

Finally, if you’ve made it to this point, thank you for your time and attention. What we pay attention to matters, and I’m grateful that you decided to pay attention to this.

[ratofthemedievalsewers]

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

[wolferine]

Forgiven

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: One-shot sequel to my “Unforgivable” series. After being paralyzed in an accident, Natasha reunites with her lover who caused the accident in the first place.

Warnings: Mentions of torture, language

Word count: 2300

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife @norwaynatasharomanoff @lovelyy-moonlight @nightingalxx @supersourlemon13

AN: This one’s for you, @allhailthelesbian! :)

You do not have to read the previous story to follow this one!

Something shifts in your arms and you instinctively tighten them, feeling a tickle of hair across your nose.

“Y/N,” Natasha whispers, “You squeeze me any harder and I’m gonna choke to death.”

“Huh?” You loosen your arms and open your eyes, finding your red-haired, green-eyed beauty staring back at you.

“Good morning,” she says.

“Good morning.” You close your eyes again and press your foreheads together.

“Ready for a workout?” she asks.

You chuckle. “It’s been a while since I’ve done one of those.”

She traces her finger over your bicep. While you’ve lost some weight in the past few months, you’ve still got some wiry strength, but you know you have some catching up to do. 

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” she says. “But my legs don’t even work and I’m not using that as an excuse.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh. “Five more minutes?”

“Fine. Only because I need your help getting to the bathroom, anyway.”

“Oh.” Your eyes fly back open. Although Natasha’s been living with her condition for more than six months, it’s still your first week back with her and sometimes you forget her needs are different than before you left. “I can just get up now—” you start.

“It’s fine,” she says, pushing you back onto the bed as you try to sit up.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Ask me again in five minutes.” She snuggles closer to you and her breath is hot against your collarbone. You close your eyes again and feel her touch the starburst of a scar on your cheek from where her bullet had struck your face.

“I’m sorry for hurting you,” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“When I fired my gun, I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” she says. “I just wanted to distract you. But then my bullet bounced off the pole and hit you in the face.”

“It’s okay,” you reply, knowing you’ve done far worse to her. A minor blemish was nothing compared to losing control of your legs.

Ten minutes later, Natasha announces she needs to use the bathroom. You sit up without being told twice and pick her up bridal-style, carrying her into the bathroom. Tony had made some modifications, such as adding handlebars near the toilet and inside the shower and lowering the medicine cabinet for easier access.

“Can you bring my wheelchair in? So you don’t have to keep carrying me back and forth,” Natasha asks as you help situate her on the toilet.

“I don’t mind,” you say.

“But I do,” she says.

Without argument, you move her wheelchair from the bedroom to the bathroom. “Holler if you need me,” you say, closing the door and going to change into a tank top and shorts. When you’re done, you hear water running in the sink and can’t help asking, “Everything okay in there?”

“Uh-huh! Jus’ brushin’ my teef!”

“Okay! Take your time.” You don’t want to be overbearing but you want to be ready to help when she needs it. Tony had talked to you about how independent she was; she insisted on learning how to do everything for herself, not liking the help of caregivers or nurses. 

Obviously, she was more comfortable asking you for help than a stranger, but you knew her well enough to know that she hated showing any signs of vulnerability, even if she really needed help.

Natasha rolls out of the bathroom and you trade spots with her, using the toilet and brushing your teeth. When you come out, she’s by the closet with her back towards you. She has on a workout shirt and struggles to pull a pair of shorts up her legs.

“Do you need some help?” you ask. Tony had told you to always ask first instead of jumping right in.

“Yes, please.” Natasha sighs. The shorts are hooked around her feet. “It’s…It’s a little hard for me to reach sometimes.”

“That’s okay.” You kneel and shimmy the shorts over her knees. 

“Can you pick me up so I can pull them on?” she asks.

“Sure.” You wrap your arms under hers and gently lift her high enough for her to pull the shorts up to her hips.

“Thanks.” You set her back down and help her put her shoes on. “All ready?”

“Let’s go.”

You go down to the Avengers’ state-of-the-art gym, containing every single piece of workout equipment you’re humanly aware of. There are weights up to the ton and a 12-foot deep Olympic-sized swimming pool.

“What did you have in mind today?” you ask as you walk next Natasha. She rolls suspiciously close to the swimming pool and you wish you could squeeze yourself on the other side of her to make sure she doesn’t fall in.

“Leg day,” she says.

“Huh?”

“Kidding!” Natasha laughs when suddenly, her wheelchair catches on the end of a loose pool noodle someone had left out and she launches from her wheelchair into the pool. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, you would’ve cried from laughter, but instead your heart drops to your feet and you jump into action—literally.

“Nat!” you scream, diving in headfirst. Underwater, you open your eyes, letting the chlorine burn into them, and see the blurry shape of Natasha bobbing up to the surface. You swim towards her and when lift your head to take a breath, you find her howling in laughter.

“What are you laughing at?” you ask, coughing up a mouthful of water.

“I’ve been swimming every day since the accident, babe,” she says, doing a much better job of treading water than you. And she doesn’t even have use of her legs. “I’m not going to drown.”

“Well, I might.” Your head dips under and you swallow a mouthful of water. Natasha wraps her hand around your arm and yanks you up.

“Seriously?” she asks.

“Haven’t…swam…in a while,” you choke.

“So, you thought you could jump in and save me when you can barely save yourself?” Natasha shakes her head, but admires your blinding love for her. She drags you over to the wall and grabs the pool noodle. “Use this.” 

You bend the noodle under your arms, grateful for the moment of rest.

“Okay, let’s go do a few laps now!” She paddles away before you can protest. Grudgingly, you kick after her.

***********************************************************************

An hour later, you’re so exhausted you can barely walk and you’re tempted to ask Natasha if she’ll let you sit on her lap while you go back up to your room.

“Shower together?” Natasha asks, and there’s a hint of shyness in her voice.

“Sure.” You’ve already seen there’s plenty of room for the both of you. First, you get Natasha settled into her shower chair before you turn around and take your dripping workout clothes off.

It’s the first time she’s seen you naked since you left. Her eyes trace over the visible bones of your ribs and the scars crisscrossing your back. There’s a burn in the shape of a triangle on the back of your left shoulder, where Hammer had tried to brand you with his logo. Because he didn’t see you as a person, but his property.

Natasha knows that although she’s had a difficult past six months, you had been in your own hell.

You turn towards her and see the sadness in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

She doesn’t say anything and offers her hand, pulling you into the shower. You turn on the water, removing the showerhead from the wall to spray over the both of you. There is nothing sexual in any of your actions as you help each other shampoo your hairs and wash your bodies. However, the closeness is still intimate and comforting.

Afterwards, you both dry off and get dressed, going into the kitchen for breakfast. Falling back into a routine with your girlfriend—even after six months—is the easiest thing you ever did. But even though it’s almost like you never left, things aren’t exactly the same, and you want to make up for the lost time as much as you can.

***********************************************************************

When lunchtime rolls around, Natasha suggests taking you to your favorite diner. You haven’t driven a car in six months, so you’re a little nervous when you go down to the garage, until Natasha insists that she’ll drive instead. She takes you over to her black Corvette Stingray, which never fails to make you whistle.

You help her into the driver’s seat, noticing the specialized hand control Tony installed so she could work the pedals with a hand lever. You make a mental note to thank him again for being so generous in caring for your girlfriend in your absence. When you sit in the passenger seat, it feels just like old times.

“Don’t crash,” you tease.

“Oh, please,” Natasha scoffs. “I can’t even use my legs and I’m still a better driver than you.” 

“Ouch.”

You watch as she expertly maneuvers the steering wheel with her left hand while her right hand pushes and pulls on the handle for the brake and gas pedal.

“You look so badass,” you say.

She looks at you and smiles. “I know.”

“I think I’ll just have you drive me around from now on.” You close your eyes and relax in the seat.

When you arrive at the diner’s parking lot, Natasha skips over the blue handicapped stalls and parks across from them.

“You don’t want to park there?” you ask, pointing to an empty blue stall.

She shakes her head. “Maybe someone else needs it more than me,” she says. “After all, they don’t have you to carry them around.” She tries to make a joke out of it, but you can tell she’s a little embarrassed. It’s also the reason she’s so hesitant to drive her Corvette around: most people who see it assume she’s a jackass trying to take advantage of a handicapped spot.

She’s had people scratch her doors and leave ugly notes on the windshield. One time, before she even had the chance to get out of the car, a group of people had gathered at her door to cuss her out. Their red faces of embarrassment and stuttered apologies when Tony helped her into her wheelchair was something she would never forget.

You get her wheelchair out of the trunk and set it next to her door, helping her into it. Inside the restaurant, the waitress removes one of the chairs at your table so Natasha can sit next to you. You don’t even bother looking at the menu, knowing exactly what you want.

You end up finishing all of your food and Natasha’s leftovers, and she can only laugh at your appetite.

“Hammer didn’t you feed you enough?” she teases.

“I’m pretty sure the stuff he gave me can’t even be counted as food,” you respond.

“Before we go home, I want to take you somewhere special,” she says as you leave the restaurant. “I visit it once a week.”

“Let’s do it.”

She drives you to a high school. But since it’s the weekend, the parking lot is empty except for a few cars. Natasha takes you inside. As you go down the hall with her, she grabs onto your hand.

“You don’t need both hands to roll?” you joke.

“I just like being close to you,” she says. Her wheelchair is at the perfect height that you don’t have to strain your shoulder lower to hold her hand. She directs you into a classroom, and when you step inside, you see some people already there. 

They’re all in wheelchairs.

You suddenly feel angry at Natasha for bringing you here. Was she trying to make you feel even more guilty for what you had done to her? These people were all going through their own pain, and here you were having caused that exact same pain to your own lover.

“Hey, everyone,” Natasha says with a confidence in her voice you haven’t heard yet. “This is my partner I’ve told you all about, Y/N.”

“Hi, Y/N!” they chorus. You cringe, wondering how much of yourself Natasha told them. Some of them are like her, paralyzed from the waist down, while others move their wheelchairs around by blowing into tubes or pressing a remote hanging from their necks.

You move out to the hallway and Natasha follows you.

“Why did you bring me here?” you whisper, your stomach churning. You feel like you’ve intruded on something private, something you don’t have the right to be a part of. “What were you thinking—” 

“Please stay,” she begs. “They’re all my friends, and some of them bring their partners along, too. It’s not an exclusive club or anything. We tell stories and learn how to get through things together.

“My condition changed everything for me, but it’s also a change for you. I want to make sure you get the support you need. Because there’s not just two of us in this relationship anymore,” she continues, and you raise your eyebrow. “It’s me, you, and my condition.

“I don’t want you to feel like I’m your burden or you’re my caregiver. I’m still the same as I always was. I can’t do everything myself and I might need your help. It’s just a different kind of help than before.”

You kneel and cup her face. “I love you, Nat. I’ll be here for you, whenever and whatever you need,” you promise.

She leans forward to kiss you. “I know.”

And with that kiss, you feel her forgiveness wash over you, cleansing you of the guilt and trauma of what you did. She had already forgiven you, a long time ago. You couldn’t continue to be so hard on yourself if you wanted the relationship to work. 

You know it won’t be an easy journey, and it’s only the beginning, but with Natasha by your side again, you feel completely unstoppable.

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

AN: I was definitely nervous writing this as I have little experience working with people with paralysis, so I did some research and hope I did it justice! If there’s anything out of place, please let me know. :)

Join my taglist for future stories here! Thanks for reading, and until next time…

[angryschnauzer]

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

Summary: There’s a little town high in the mountains where everyone has a secret, and every family has something that makes them unique. In Blackwater Lake those that are outcast by nature come together. 

Characters: Werewolf!Captain Syverson, Werewolf!Female Reader, Vampire!Walter Marshall.

Warnings (for this chapter, all small mentions but warning just in case): Breastfeeding, Accidental Cutting Injury/Blood loss, blood transfusions. This chapter contains no sex scenes or scenes of a sexual nature.

A continuation of previous Werewolf!Sy stories Moonlight on the Sand and Castle Under The Stars. This will be a series of stand alone stories/2 parters, which will revolve around the residents of the town, with some recurring characters.

I do not run a tag list, but please follow @angryschnauzerwrites​ and put that blog onto notifications. You’ll then get an alert every time i post something new.

Blackwater Lake - Chapter 1

The late spring day brought pleasant scents and mouth watering flavours, Blackwater Lake’s town May day parade in full flow as you held two month old Luna in her carrier to your chest, turning to smile at your husband Sy as he balanced Mikey on his shoulders so your son could watch the floats whilst they slowly cruised past. You knew he would be most excited about the Fire Department bringing their trucks past. At the first whoop of the siren Mikey squealed with joy, the ice cream cone in his hand tipping slightly and setting a blob of blue bubblegum flavour gelato into Sy’s cheek;

“Hey, no wriggles! Its raining ice cream down here”

Pausing the consumption of your own cone you handed it to Sy as you reached into your bag and found a baby wipe, moving to wipe his cheek before stretching to wipe your son’s face. Finding a trash can to toss the wipe into, you smiled as you watched your two boys as they waved to the Fire Trucks, the crew making sure to honk their horns when they saw Sy.

Everyone in town loved Sy. You’d moved there together when you’d found out you were pregnant with Mikey, your army days behind you and wanting to seek somewhere quiet where you could live in the woods to allow for full moon runs whilst being close enough to civilisation to raise a family. The aging receptionist at the realtor had pulled you aside the second you’d arrived in their office when you’d visited the town, recognising one of her own as her nostrils had flared and she’d explained that there were ‘all sorts’ in the town. That was your first meeting with Edith, and you’d gone on to move in just up the mountain from her. Once Sy had finished in the Army and baby number two was on the way, he’d started working alongside retired detective Walter at his construction company where they specialised in commercial buildings. They were always on call for when businesses had emergencies, so had come to the aid of half the town after storms and accidents.

As the parade dragged on Luna woke, grumbling for a change and a feed. The two boys were transfixed with the parade and you’d lost your ice cream cone to Sy who was now mindlessly munching away on it. Tugging on his sleeve you caught his attention;

“Luna’s woken up, i’m gonna take her into Sue’s Coffee Shop to change her and give her a feed”

“Sure thing Darlin, we’ll come find you in a bit”

-

The coffee shop was quiet, its doors opened onto the sidewalk and as the radio played soft rock music, just one or two tables taken outside but the inside empty. Sue - the owner - smiled at you as you walked in;

“Hey Sue!”

“Hey there! What can I get'cha?”

“Can i get a decaf iced latte? I just need to change Luna if that’s ok?”

“Of course, no need to ask, the restroom is empty”

A couple of minutes later your little girl had a clean butt but was still grizzling, now hungry for your milk. Sue had set your drink onto a table in the corner, a soft window seat she knew you liked to sit at to feed. Settling in you pulled your cami top down and unhooked the strap of your nursing bra, helping Luna to latch on as she cried before a blissful quiet descended over you as she happily suckled on your breast. In the quiet of the coffee shop you reached for your drink and sipped on it, smiling down at your beautiful daughter as she gazed up at you;

“Hey there my little Luna, better now? Is that the good stuff? Yeah? Well that’s what your Daddy says it is…” you said with a whisper and a smirk.

“Hey”

The sudden greeting made you jump, looking up to see Walter standing near your table;

“Oh, Hi Walter”

“Sorry…” he glanced away, averting his eyes from where you were feeding; “I just asked if you wanted anything?”

“Oh no, i’m fine, i’ve got a coffee… but you’re welcome to join me if you like? Sy and Mikey will be along once the Parade’s over”

Nodding once the quiet man went to order before returning with what looked like a quad espresso but faltering when it came to taking a seat;

“Where did you want me to sit?”

“Oh anywhere you like” you shifted Luna as she had finished on one breast, hooking that side up before shifting and moving her to the other breast. You’d mastered the art of switching breasts without revealing anything, the baby's head blocking any view of a nipple, and you were a vehement supporter of breast feeding - in fact any feeding - and had been known to get into loud shouting matches with anyone that told you to cover up something that was completely natural.

“I mean, i don’t want Sy to think i’m here oggling his wife’s tits”

Laughing, you kicked out a soft chair with your foot;

“This is fairly low, take this one and here…” you moved the upright menu on the table in front of Luna’s head, knowing that she would now be shielded from view and with your breast, and saving Walter’s embarrassment.

Just as Walter sat down Sue brough over his sandwich, the scent of it hitting your nostrils and making your stomach audibly growl;

“Oh wow, what is that?”

“A steak wrap with chimichurri sauce” he lifted one half and offered it to you, but you shook your head.

“Thanks, but that’s just a little too rare for me… looks like a good veterinarian could bring it back to life”

Walter laughed as you called out to Sue, ordering one of the same.

“You want yours still mooing too?”

“Medium, please” you laughed as she nodded and walked away.

As she cooked your meal you turned back to Walter. You’d had a few conversations with him over the 11 months he and Sy had worked together, but knew very little about him apart from his reputation of being quiet and surly, generally sleep deprived and a little pale most of the time. He’d been medically retired from the Police Department after an accident where he’d lost a lot of blood and had never fully recovered.

As Luna happily fed and Walter devoured his sandwich you sipped on your drink, watching with curiosity as the man ate in silence, savouring each bloody bite. When he finally crumpled the napkin onto the plate and sat back he caught you watching him;

“What? Do i have something on my face?”

“No” you laughed softly; “Just watching how quickly you devoured that sandwich. Rachel not feeding you at home?”

Walter’s face dropped;

“She left”

“Oh fuck. I’m sorry Walter, i wouldn’t have said anything if i’d known”

“S’ok. She got fed up with the way i lived my life, but i can’t change who i am”

“True”

Just then Sy and Mikey came running into the coffee shop;

“Hi Darlin! Hi Sue! Hi Walt… be right back, Jnr has a bathroom emergency!”

The two Syverson boys disappeared into the restroom, and you could clearly hear Sy’s voice;

“Point! POINT IT AT THE TOILET! That’s it, stand on your tippy toes… there we go! Got here in time!”

You suppressed a laugh, Walter raising his eyebrows;

“Potty training?”

“Uh-huh… it's been a challenging few weeks to say the least, but Mikey wanted to give it a go”

The sound of the dryer could be heard as Sy and Mikey reappeared, Sy giving you double thumbs up from behind his son who ran to you;

“A perfect aim Darlin, no leaks. Think this deserves a cookie!”

As Mikey squealed with joy you groaned;

“Sy… not more sugar! He’ll be up all night. Mikey, honey, how about some fries?”

“And Eggies?” Mikey asked

“Sure thing honey, get Daddy to ask Sue”

As the afternoon wore on and the boys chatted, you listened as Sy and Walter discussed work stuff, Luna sleeping peacefully in your arms as you ate with Mikey. Finally glancing at your watch you motioned to Sy the time;

“Hun, i’ve gotta go collect our meat order from Walkers Meats”

“Oh yeah, sure. Here…” He opened his wallet and peeled off a bunch of $20’s as he turned to Walter; “She makes the best Steak Tartare… it's unbelievable”

“You make that?” Walter asked

Angling Luna into her carrier sling you adjusted the straps and nodded;

“Sure do! Hey, did you want to join us for dinner?”

“Yeah, join us!” Sy parroted; “And before you say anything, you wouldn’t be intruding”

With a weak smile Walter nodded;

“Sure, that’ll be nice. I gotta go to the lumber yard before though… pick out the stuff for next week's job”

You noticed that Mikey had finished his meal and was looking sleepy, holding your hand out to him he slid off the chair and stood next to you;

“How about I take the kids home, Sy you catch a ride with Walter?”

With everyone happy with the arrangements you made your way along main street to where Sy had parked his enormous truck, helping Mikey into his seat before unlatching Luna and settling her into her carrier. They were both fast asleep by the time you got to the drivers seat. 

You managed to park directly outside the door to Walkers Meats, and Freya the weekend girl helpfully brought everything out to you when you called inside that the kids were asleep in the car and you didn’t want to leave them.

-

Dinner had been fun. The two kids were peacefully sleeping as the three adults chatted after the meal, before you finally stood to load the dishwasher and start hand washing the items that couldn’t go in there. Just as you were about to start you heard a cry from the kids, Sy standing;

“It’s Mikey, i’ll go”

As you started to handwash the various knives and delicate glasses, Walter stood at your side to dry items, the two of you talking casually before you let out a cry and pulled your hand from the soapy bowl of water. The dark crimson of your blood flowed from your finger, the knife you’d forgotten you’d put in the sink the cause;

“Fuck… hand me a towel…” you asked Walter, but were surprised when he sucked in a sharp intake of breath and turned, hunching over. Clutching your hand to your chest, you were surprised by his reaction, before he suddenly turned and you let out a shriek.

Sy appeared at the doorway in a panic before rushing to you, wrapping a napkin around your hand before he finally turned to look at Walter;

“What the fuck…”

Walter was pale, paler than usual, but that wasn’t what shocked the pair of you. No, it was the fact his eyes were pure white except for dark pools for his pupils, and as he opened his mouth to speak you saw his fangs;

“It’s… it’s the blood…” he gasped out; “It drives me…”

Sy wrapped his arm around your shoulders, but looked at his friend as he slumped onto the floor, shaking and sobbing;

“Think we need a chat Walt”

-

The three of you sat around the kitchen table, a hefty glass of scotch in front of each of you as Walter spoke;

“So umm yeah… this is why i left the Department. Went into a supposedly abandoned building, but it wasn’t empty. Two what we thought were junkies in there, looked like they were frail and would snap in a keen wind, but they had this strength and speed… They overpowered me, latched onto my neck. Drained my blood, and when the last drop was about to pass their lips one of my officers finally found me and shot them. They bled into me. The EMT’s took me to New Mercy and gave me a massive blood transfusion, and treated me for severe anemia… well guess what, the fangs and fucked up eyes were a surprise a few weeks after i was discharged”

You sat wide eyed and mouth agape, not touching your drink;

“I have so many questions...”

“Okay”

“Garlic. Crosses. Being invited in. Sunlight…”

Walter chuckled;

“Most a load of complete bollocks. Garlic? Well you put some in your steak tartare didn’t you? In fact it helps with the anemia. Crosses? No issue. Being invited in, again that’s just rubbish. Sunlight however… why do you think i’m so pale, huh? Have to wear factor 50 all the damn time otherwise i end up looking like a Maine Lobster at a cookout”

Both you and Sy were transfixed, Walter chatting away but his eyes hadn’t returned to normal and his fangs occasionally caught on his lip as he spoke.

“What ‘bout blood then?” Sy asked

Walter cleared his throat;

“Well, i’ve been making do with cows blood since Rachel left”

“You used to suck her blood?” you asked in a high pitched voice

Again Walter cleared his throat, this time just the faintest hint of a blush crept over his cheeks above his beard;

“Err yeah, about once a month… but she had enough in the end and left”

“I got another question” Sy interjected; “Why are your fangs still out?”

Although he answered Sy, Walter looked directly at you;

“Because she’s bleeding”

You looked down at your hand, puzzled as the wound had now sealed, before it hit you;

“Oh… I should go and sort that out”

Sy caught up quickly, glancing at the back of your dress;

“You’re fine Darlin, Walt caught it in time”

When you returned to the kitchen the two men had knocked back their drinks, Sy pouring another hefty glass for the pair of them. Pouring your drink into Sy’s you smiled at him;

“Luna won’t appreciate it”

Making yourself a herb tea you sat down next to Sy, leaning on his shoulder as you sipped your tea. Walter cleared this throat;

“You two have taken this a lot better than i envisioned anyone would… better than Rachel did…”

You looked up at Sy and smiled, his own grin crossing over his face before he nodded and you both turned to Walter as Sy spoke;

“Oh… we have a bit of understanding of this kinda thing”

With the full moon starting tomorrow night you knew that you could both force your eyes to turn orange, the bright ring of fire in your irises flaming like a pyre, shocking Walter so much he slipped back on his chair and fell to the floor. Greeted by both of you giggling, he pulled himself back up using the table as he righted his chair, knocking back the rest of his glass;

“What… the… FUCK?”

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family. 

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced.  You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder. 

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers. 

--

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

--

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @elen-aranel​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​ ; @artsymaddie​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​ ; @lunaserenade​ ; @winniedaboo​  ; @empress-palpat1ne​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20​ ; @leonieb​ ; @the-feckless-wonder​ ; @lou-la-lou​ ; @captain-jebi​ ; @supernaturalgirl​ ; @naturenebula21​ ; @evelynseventyr​ ; @giselatropicana​ ; @heatherbel​ ; @marydjarin​ ; @annathewitch​ ; @absurdthirst​​ ; @hnt-escape​ ; @writingletterstothefire​​ ; @misswriter​​ ; @bison-writes​​

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

 Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

[literallydontlook]

The Unexpected (2/4)

You’re just not that interested in dating military men, nor have you ever been with an alien lover. But a chance Ascension Week encounter awakens something you didn’t know was inside. Chapter 2 of 4.

Pairing: Thrawn x f!reader

Rating: 18+

TW/CW: none (or if I’m missing something, please let me know!)

Tags: sexual tension, romance, slow burn, civilian reader, sexual fantasy, m@sturbation

Word count: 2k+

A/N: I know I said the whole thing is written, but I got sort of unhappy with it and thought I’d rewrite some. My Thrawn crush has sort of cooled so I couldn’t find the energy to do it. But! I am a woman of my word! Here’s part II, unedited, no beta we die like chiss. 

<-- Part 1 - The Trap

Part 2 - Friends

Dajmita had returned in the morning wearing last night’s gown, her makeup smudged from a night of sexual activity. Removing her shoes, she found you curled up in a blanket on the sofa. Your makeup from the previous evening in a similar state of disrepair.

“What happened to you?” she asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“I tried to take someone home,” you groaned pulling the blanket over your head.  She smiled impishly and then faltered, “Wait - What do you mean tried?”

“How do you do it? I took him to my studio for a ‘tour’,” your hands motioned in air quotes, “and he bought a piece of art and left.”

Dajmita was torn between laughter and pity. She sat down beside you and stroked your hair, pulling tangled pins out as she tried to sooth you, “Only you could miscommunicate a hookup.”

Your data pad pinged and you grabbed for it blindly from under the blanket. You groaned, “Aaa ugh it’s already noon?” You threw your legs over the side of the couch and dragged your feet to the refresher.

“Do you have to be somewhere?” Dajmita called from the other room. You washed your face and pulled the remaining pins from your head, then pulled your hair up into a messy half bun. You sighed.

“I promised to meet a friend for lunch,” you breathed out tiredly as you brushed your teeth.

“You could just cancel,” she pointed out.

There was only the sound of scrubbing as you considered this. Spitting out the foam and rinsing your mouth you decided you shouldn’t flake.

“No...I should go,” you sighed again, pulling off your gown and rummaging through your dresser for something comfortable to wear. Dajmita gave you a concerned look.

“Well, I guess you must be pretty comfortable with this person if you’re going out like that.” You looked in the mirror and shrugged. You grabbed a cloak and pulled the hood over your head, “It’s not like anyone wants to hook up with me when I’m dressed up anyway!” you cried out over-dramatically.

Dajmita crossed her arms, “Don’t say that.”

“Just let me wallow for one day,” you complained, dragging your feet out the front door, “I’ll be back later.”

She laughed, “Fine but you’re being ridiculous! We’re doing something fun when you get back!” she called after you.

“Fiiine!” you called back.

——-

Eli had already found a table at Dex’s Diner when you arrived.

“What’s with the cloak? Did you have a uh...rough night?” he teased, wiggling his eyebrows. You glared at him.

“Whoa sorry we don’t need to go into detail,” he raised his hands defensively. You buried your head in your arms, “Nothing happened.” Your voice was muffled.

He realized you were serious as you sat back up to give the waitdroid your order. “What do you mean nothing happened?” he asked incredulously.

You took a deep breath, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, “Stars I can’t be talking to you about this!” you cried out.

“Hey I’m not a little kid anymore,” Eli shot back. “You can talk to me,” he offered kindly.

“I mean, what more can I say? We went to my studio and he bought a painting and then left.” Now that some time had passed, you could laugh a little. Then a thought occurred to you.

“Is he married or something? Or anti-inter-species?” Eli’s face twisted in thought, “He’s definitely not married, but to be honest I didn’t realize he had a sexuality.”

“Oh.” you considered this, not sure if you should feel better with this new information. The waitdroid returned with your orders - the smell of grease inviting you to indulge.

“Well he wants me to install the painting he bought on his ship,” you said, jabbing at the mush on your plate. You received his transmitted instructions earlier that morning which only reminded you of your failure.

Eli stopped mid-bite. “He wants you to come to the Chimaera? ...In person? He didn’t ask you to hand it off to a stormtrooper at the landing dock?”

“Is that unusual?”

“I’ve never seen a civilian aboard a Star Destroyer. I don’t think you’re allowed...but then again, it’s his ship, so I guess he can sort of do what he wants,” Eli conceded.

“I’ll send him a message to confirm,” You said, your heart beginning to race again. Why do I feel so...excited? You push away the thought.

“Enough about Thrawn. What’s up with you? What are you doing here? Last my parents told me you were training to be a supply officer in the Expansion Region.”

Eli sat back and sighed, not sure where to begin.

—-

“You cannot get hung up on a random guy you don’t even want to date!” Dajmita spelled out loudly as she shook you by the shoulders.

“Please don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling! I’m just making sure you hear me,” she huffed. “You’re so desperate for a fuck. This isn’t some failure you need to overcome. You said yourself this guy might be ace.”

“Well why would he ask me to install the art on his ship then? Civilians aren’t normally allowed,” you countered.

“Maybe he’s just really into art and wants to maintain the artist’s original intent- I don’t know!” Dajmita threw up her arms in frustration, “Why do you even care? You don’t even like military men. If you need someone to fuck, just ask Endel. He’d definitely do it!”

“You know I can’t lead someone on like that! I think he still has feelings for me!” you turned back to the mirror to finish applying makeup, “Ok does this look like I’m not trying too hard? I want to be taken seriously as a professional but like, a hot professional.” You stepped out of the refresher clad in workers clothes.

“I mean, if that’s what you’re going for...Like a carpenter from a pornographic holo vid,” she assured you. You looked down at your top, “Is it too tight?” You tried stretching your arms up to see how much of your mid drift would be exposed. You tried bending over, too.

“Oh yeah - just do that a lot,” Dajmita purred suggestively.

——-

The Chimaera was much bigger than you had ever imagined. Several Lambda-class shuttles were docked in the landing bay where hundreds of stormtroopers and Imperial officers buzzed about their business in an orderly rhythm.

You suddenly felt very self-conscious. Your civilian clothes drew more attention than you were used to and even the officer who scanned your security clearance regarded you suspiciously as he read your destination from his data pad.

“You have an appointment with…Admiral Thrawn?” He asked incredulously.

“That’s right. I’m installing a painting in his office.” This seemed to make sense to him, but he reached for his comm for confirmation.

“Sir - There’s a...female civilian here to install a painting?”

Thrawn’s voice came through the comm, “Yes, please send her up with an escort.” Still somewhat suspiciously, the officer signaled a stormtrooper to meet you and he wordlessly lead you to a turbo lift.

You were fascinated by the cold design of the starship’s hallways. Every surface was immaculate, each crew member walking with purpose. There was almost complete silence, only the sound of murmured conversations and footsteps hung in the air. The path itself was dizzying - turn after turn after turn - you weren’t sure if you could find your way back.

Just as you began to wonder what was behind all of these sealed doors, your escort stopped at one guarded by another trooper.

“Code cylinders,” he demanded. Your guide handed him a pen-looking object and clarified, “This is only for her.” The object was inserted into a keyhole, opening the door behind him. “Go on in.”

Your escort turned and walked away, leaving you to enter Thrawn’s office alone.

The sound of clashing metal and of exertion filled the entryway. As you pushed the repulsorlift cart into the antechamber, you saw a door opened to a bright sparring room where Thrawn was combatting two large sentry droids. He expertly dodged each attack, countering with his own. You couldn’t help the warm feeling rising in your core again as you noticed his muscular arms for the first time. You imagined them pinning you to the floor as he pounded into you, a strong hand pulling your hair back.

Just as you caught yourself mid-fantasy, Thrawn noticed you and commanded the override code. The droids returned to their stations and powered down as the door hissed shut. You weren’t sure what to do next, but the door soon re-opened with a hiss and Thrawn emerged wearing his uniform jacket.

“I apologize - I thought I would have a few more moments before you arrived,” he said, fastening the cuffs on his sleeves. “Please, come in.” He ushered you through another door leading to his office. A large desk was situated in the center of the room, two reptilian sculptures flanking the display shelf behind it.

Thrawn led you through his office to an adjoining living space. “I’d like the painting to hang here. Please let me know if you need anything.”

“Th-thank you,” You shivered, realizing it was significantly colder here than in the hallway. Thrawn noticed your nipples had hardened in the cold, their outlines visible even through the layers of your shirt and bra. It was going to be difficult to concentrate today. He excused himself as you unloaded your work and began dismantling the piece’s wooden transport casing. After almost half an hour, you were able to carefully free the painting, only to realize it was too unwieldy for one person to lift.

You found Thrawn in his office, carefully studying star charts at his desk. Another fantasy intruded and clouded your vision: sitting at the edge of his desk, the holos of planets splashed against your skin, your legs spread wide as he drank in your cunt. He tweaked your nipples as you moaned in pleasure, the danger of being discovered only heightening your arousal. You breathed in deeply to ward away the thoughts.

You cleared your throat and he looked toward you.

“Could I have some help?” you asked, expecting him to call another officer or trooper to assist.

“I’m at your service,” he said to your surprise. He followed you back into the other room.

“I just need a hand lifting this onto the mounting brackets,” you explained. Thrawn situated himself on one side of the canvas and you heaved it up together, guiding its hanging wire in place. Just as it was lining up, he stole another glimpse of you. Your shirt rode up slightly as you worked and his eyes lingered on the small sliver of mid drift that was becoming more and more exposed in your exertion. With a deep breath, he fought back his primal urge to lunge.

You both stepped back to evaluate the painting’s placement. There was a long silence.

“…Is it…to your liking?”

“Yes…” he mused quietly, “Thank you…I believe I still owe you…payment.” His last word was almost a purr and you flushed as you fantasized a another meaning. Did he notice?

You followed him into his office, where he unlocked a desk drawer and pulled out a bundle of credits. He handed them to you, your fingers accidentally brushing against each other in the exchange. He saw your jaw tighten.

“I’ll be stationed on Coruscant for the next few months. There’s an exhibit on Mandalorian folk art that I think would be…educational. Would you care to join me?”

So he wasn’t going to bend you over his desk and have his way with you. Perhaps he really was only looking for a companion to discuss art with - he obviously wasn’t getting that kind of engagement from his peers. You were disappointed but not heartbroken. After all, it wasn’t like you had romantic feelings towards him. You accepted this invitation to friendship.

“I’ve been looking forward to that exhibition myself. When do you want to go?”

[emerald-amidst-gold]

Writing Tag Game

Thank you so much for the tag @noire-pandora! <3

Time to show people just how much of a baby I am in the fanfic world~! >:3

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

A total of ten! Mainly because I lump drabbles together for easy access!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

....273502 words so far. :3 I like words. Words are good. Words are friends. 

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Emerald Eyes Amidst Golden Vows (the very first rendition!) - 48 kudos

Emerald Eyes Amidst Golden Vows - Bound Brighter - 24 kudos

A Dragon’s Hope - 15 kudos

Dragon Drabbles - 13 kudos

Poetry of Wolves - 11 kudos

(Honestly, the progression of style change in each of these fics is terrifying to me. I look back on the last one, and I’m like, ‘Oh my god.’ X’D) 

4. Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I do, on occasion, respond! Though I may use a lot of words while writing, when it comes to communication? I suck. XD But, I do get extremely, extremely excited whenever I see a comment in my inbox, and I do go back and re-read them when I’m feeling down about my writing! I usually respond when a person asks questions, but I try to read them as rhetoric since I don’t want to spoil too much! X3 So, to everyone who has left me comments on my fics: THANK YOU. I do really appreciate and adore them. :3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Many of my short fics (those ranging from one to two chapters) all end relatively happy. I like angst, but I also enjoy making characters that are usually somber and stressed a little lighter. :3 If we want to get technical, then the first several chapters of my main fic all have rather angsty endings because the beginning of Fane’s journey is...heh. It’s not easy, and it’s not supposed to be. 

Although, now that I look, a very old fic of mine called ‘A Dragon’s Guilt’ has a rather angsty ending. Basically, Solas’ frescoes in the rotunda send Fane into a momentary spiral, and it was me playing with Adamant possibilities before he was ‘set in stone’. Panic attacks and mixed memories galore! :D

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

*rifes through my fics* Uhhhh... All of them? :3 Okay, okay! No, if I had to choose it would have to be...one of the short stories in ‘Dragon Drabbles’. It’s a four part story (and my first hand at smut >:3) that’s titled ‘Existence is Not a Sin’. It starts off angsty, but by the end it’s so sweet, so sickeningly sweet that I’m like, “...How did I write this?” X’D ...I’m actually thinking of re-writing a lot of my previous fics just to see if I’ve improved with writing! :D

Do you write crossovers? If so what is the craziest one you’ve written?

I do not write crossovers, but I’m open to the idea! Sadly, my brain hyperfixates on one thing at time, so my imagination is limited. X’D

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

I haven’t, and I’m very grateful that I haven’t. To be honest, when I started writing and posting, I expected to get hate (prepare for the worst, you know?) because I was doing something that wasn’t really the ‘norm’ for a lot of people. After all, people are entitled to their own interpretations and mine some times don’t link up with someone else’s. I understand that, and I respect that, but some people...don’t offer the same courtesy. All I’ll say is, if you don’t enjoy my content, don’t read it. We’re all adults, so shrug your shoulders, say, “Not for me”, and move on. Just know that if you do leave a hate comment, you will receive no reply, no fuel. So, don’t waste your time and don’t waste mine. Simple as that. I’m here to share and make people smile, not argue. :3

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I have. Once, and I for the life of me can’t figure out how to do it again. X’D I’m very into soft intimacy; gestures and actions that speak a thousand words. Close positions (missionary, straddling, etc.) and a lot of eye contact with some healthy crying in the mix. *winks* I’m kind of inching towards a theme of ‘body worship’ when it comes to Fane and Solas because those two.. *sighs* They really need to shown that they are beautiful people; inside and out.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I have not. Thank God. XD All I’ll say is this though, you steal my fic, my son and claim them as your own? *gets close to the screen* I will track you down and demand a talk. Don’t steal other’s hard work. Don’t. Writing is not easy, and it takes weeks, months, years for authors to pump out their inspiration, so don’t steal that labor just because you want to say you could. Same goes for drawings and pieces of art. Don’t.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven’t! English is my first language, but I understand some French! :D 

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I haven’t, but the idea is intriguing to me sometimes! I’m just a tad unreliable due to how my mood ebbs and flows. I have very long dry spells. X’D

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Solavellan! >:D While I write solely M!Lavellan/Solas, I do support all genders and orientations for the ship! Because I didn’t get into the ship because of what I saw, it’s what it meant to me. 

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

*side eyes my main fic* LISTEN. It’s coming! I swear. I’m just having intense writer’s block with my main fic, and I’m not sure why. That’s why I’ve been messing with prompts and drabbles. X’D There’s also my modernAU, too.. *sweats* TIIIIIME! WHERE ARE YOU?!

What are your writing strengths?

Describing emotions. I like emotions. Emotions are nice. :3

What are your writing weaknesses?

Dialogue. Mainly because Fane...doesn’t speak much at the beginning of his journey. He’s very curt, short, so I have hard time incorporating other’s reactions to him. I’m getting better though, I think! :D

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I’m for it! Sometimes that little splash of altering dialect can draw someone in and establish a connection! Language connects us, and it’s never too late to try and learn so as to reach out to another! :D

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Dragon Age, my beloved~ 

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

A short story of mine called ‘Blood in the Snow’. It was one of my very first fics and it was the first time I was like, ‘This Lavellan is my muse. I can do so much with him.’ It was just so fun to write a vulnerable moment for Fane, but still keep him locked up. ...It was also where I went, ‘Oh. This is Solavellan Hell. I wasn’t meant to go there, but I DID.’ X’D

Tagging: @oxygenforthewicked @little-lightning-lavellan @dreadfutures @the-dreadful-canine @rosella-writes @aymayzing @drag-on-age @varric-tethras-editor and anyone else that’d like to play! (no pressure, of course! <3)

[heliads]

Of Sorcerers and Spiderwebs Chapter Four: Hopeless

Y/N L/N is a Master of the Mystic Arts, trained by Doctor Strange himself. When she first meets Peter Parker as they fight side by side against Thanos, she isn’t expecting for their brief partnership to blossom into a love that could last a lifetime.

previous / series masterlist / next

After realizing that you’re in love with Peter Parker, it feels even harder to drag yourself out of bed to head to school the next morning. Even the sight of him walking towards you from across the crowded hallways of Midtown hurts- you know that no matter how close the two of you become, he’ll never see you as anything more than a friend.

In fact, just the simple act of seeing him confirms that you truly love him. You’re not sure how you didn’t realize it before, but it’s glaringly obvious now. When the two of you are paired together for some partner activity in class, you’re able to laugh and smile with him as if you’ve known him your entire life. 

That’s the easiest thing about Peter- with him, you’re able to just live and be whoever you want to be. There aren’t any expectations with him- no rules or assumptions or anything. He doesn’t presume you to be anything more than yourself. You’re not sure anyone’s made you feel like that in a long time.

However, things aren’t exactly perfect. Now that you’re actually paying attention to how you feel about Peter, you’re also noticing how Peter feels about other people. Specifically, how he feels about one of his closest friends, MJ. Case in point: whatever’s going on with them during this exact lunch one sunny afternoon at Midtown.

Although technically there are four of you at the lunch table, Peter’s clearly centered around MJ and MJ alone. He’s sitting next to her, leaning over to face her in a way that shuts out everything else around him. They’re engaged in some deep conversation about the ethics of neuroscience, something that you happen to know a lot about thanks to Stephen and that you could easily debate along with them. However, you already tried to enter the conversation and were talked over more than a few times, so you’ve given that up.

You can’t exactly blame Peter for being wrapped up in MJ. She’s practically perfect for him- she supports him being Spider-Man, she knows enough about his favorite topics to have discussions like the one they’re having now, and they both have the perfect blend of shy and talkative that makes them equals. The only problem is that she’s not you.

The worst part is that Peter is clearly in love with her. Here’s the thing- nobody looks at a girl the way Peter is looking at MJ right now, with that stupid soft smile on his face as she talks and that unnameable expression his eyes, without being in love. You suppose that’s why it hurts you so much to see him. It shouldn’t, of course, Peter’s known MJ for far longer than he’s known you and you just arrived at Midtown a few months ago. Yet your heart still feels a painful twinge every time you glance their way.

“You good, Y/N?”

You’re broken out of your trance when Ned speaks to you. Blinking once to clear your head, you turn to him. “Yeah, I’m just, uh, considering my plans for the future. I’ve heard about this really cool opportunity within the different international Sanctums to go out in search of people who could potentially become Masters of the Mystic Arts to monitor them and offer aid if they need it.”

What you’re talking about isn’t a lie- you have heard about this program, and it’s been simmering away in the back of your mind for quite some time. You had assumed that you weren’t going to act on it, as your life was going very well over in New York, but for once you might be convinced to move away as a nomad for the sorcerers.

Ned looks impressed. “That does sound cool. So you’d basically get to vacation around the world in the name of the Sanctums?” You incline your head, confirming his words. “That’s the thing- it sounds amazing. The only thing is, I’d have to apply and I don’t know if they’ll let me in or not. And, even if they do let me in, I’m just wondering if I would be able to leave all of this behind. It feels like I just got here.”

Ned nods. “I mean, I don’t really know what to tell you. Wizards-I mean, sorcerers, kind of have a priority of coolness over everything else. I guess you just have to ask yourself what you’d be giving up by leaving, and if you think the pros of the trip would outweigh the cons.”

You look at him, somewhat surprised. “That’s actually really good advice. Thanks, Ned.” The boy smiles. “Hey, if I can’t be a superhero I can at least give out super-good talks.” The two of you dissolve in laughter, but your smile fades slightly when you realize Peter hasn’t even heard you at all. Would he care if you left?

The next day, you slump down into your seat at the lunch table with a glower that could rival the stormy weather outside. Ned raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. “Well, I didn’t think you could look even more depressed than yesterday, but I guess I was wrong. What, did Sorcerers Worldwide not let you into their program?”

You point a finger at him in agreement. “I showed up and asked if I could go through with their program. I showed them everything I could do, which is more than the average adult at the Sanctum. Even with that, they still won’t let me go. They kept saying something about how I should be finishing school before I go traipsing around the globe. That doesn’t even make sense- they pulled me out of my freshman and sophomore years so they could train me at Kamar-Taj, why is it not okay now?”

Across the table from you, Peter looks stunned. “Wait, what do you mean? You were going to leave Midtown for some errand of the sorcerers?” You nod, staring up at the ceiling bleakly. “It was going to be so cool, too. But no, I have to wait until I’m out of high school or college or whenever they run out of excuses.”

Peter leans forward, and you realize for the first time that he actually seems cross, almost hurt. “Why didn’t you tell me? I thought you liked it here.” You can’t help but feel defensive at his questioning. “I did. Yesterday, at lunch. I talked about it right here. I guess you weren't paying attention. Besides, I do like Midtown, but are you telling me you’d rather go to high school than travel the world?”

Peter scoffs. “Yeah, it would be fun to leave for a vacation or a weekend trip. You just got here, do you really not care about all of us enough to leave it all behind for some jaunt around the world?” You raise your eyebrows. “Why are you so upset? I just said that I wouldn’t be going anyway. And besides, I do care about everyone here, which is why I talked about the possibility of me going on this trip yesterday to all of you. I suppose you just weren’t listening.”

Peter’s opening his mouth, presumably to deliver a no doubt intense remark, but Ned places his hands in between the two of you, interrupting him. “You know what, I think what Peter means is that we’d all be sad to see you go, Y/N. We’re sorry that you didn’t get into your program, but at least you still have us, right?”

You tilt your head towards Ned, pointedly ignoring Peter. “Thank you, Ned. I absolutely agree. Midtown is, and will always be, an amazing school with amazing people and I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world.” You and Ned continue to have a conversation in the same forced calm voices, and eventually Peter joins in. MJ arrives later, and joins in the chatter as well, although she does raise her eyebrows at the tension clearly brewing between you and Peter.

When lunch ends, the four of you are heading back to your classroom when you suddenly stop moving. Your friends stop as well, looking back at you in confusion. “Everything alright, Y/N?” MJ asks, but you just shake your head fervently. “Everything is very much not alright. It’s like I can sense something strange in the school. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t human and it isn’t going away.”

Your friends walk back up to you. “Can you tell us anything else about it?” Ned questions. You try and latch onto the sudden feeling, but you can’t sense anything else. “I think I’m going to have to use my astral form to check it out. Can you make sure nobody notices what I’m doing?” Your friends nod their assent, and huddle up around you to hide you from view. If anyone happens to walk by, they’ll just see a group of students clustered around a locker.

You fling your shoulders back, closing your eyes and opening them once more to find yourself in your astral form, glowing and weightless just like normal. As you head off down the hallway in search of whatever malevolent entity is creeping around the school, you glance once over your shoulder and can’t help but feel slightly better when you notice that Peter is the first one to reach out and catch you, despite everything that just happened.

Brushing away thoughts of Peter and the concern clearly written across his face at the thought of you heading into danger, you continue on down the hallways. You quickly check classrooms and halls of lockers, and you notice that the strange feeling of darkness is emanating from a room down a few flights of stairs. The basement. 

Of course it had to be the basement, the darkest, coldest, most formidable place in the whole school. Why couldn’t creepy things just hide in plain sight for once? Why the basement? You shudder briefly, then force yourself down through the floor until you’re standing just outside the basement door. You step forward, walking through the door, and suppress a silent scream when you see what’s inside.

When you suddenly jerk back to life in Peter’s arms, your friends look at you with startled eyes. “What is it? What did you see?” All you can do is clasp on to Peter, who’s still holding you tight. “Something is coming. Something bad.”

tag list: @dude-were-getting-the-band-back​ @xroselights​ @idiotic--punk​

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje 

Previous | Next​

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

[sepublic]

Happy Birthday to The Owl House!

           Honestly, I’m… REALLY shocked to think back on how it’s been a year? It’s been a full, actual year, since that first episode?

           I remember when The Owl House was first announced around early 2018. Something about it, the premise, the characters from that one poster we got; It really drew me in, and I kept track of the show’s progress in eager anticipation. Whenever Dana released art of Luz, Eda, and King, I was ecstatic- And when the show was delayed to 2020, I was dismayed.

           Then we got our teaser trailer; The opening them, the end credits, even a little sneak peek! I remember speculating a lot about Luz and all of the other new characters we were introduced to, such as Willow, Amity, and Gus- And then we got more and more trailers in the days leading up to the show. I wondered about Luz’s home back on Earth and where her family was, I listened intently to the Hooty and the Parliament music video, finding an almost melancholic, weirdly nostalgic (despite having never watched the show yet) vibe to it- Whilst also avoiding looking at the screen and seeing all of the various clips it offered, because I wanted to be surprised! It was two years of anticipation, two years of wait for this show- I’d never looked forward to a series before like this, last I can recall… So having this content FINALLY come out, seeing these characters in animation, hearing their wonderful voices! My soul was vibing, it was time, it was coming after all this time…!

          Eventually I finished Infinity Train Book 2, the same day that The Owl House premiered… I was blindsided when I woke up to the first episode’s release online, in full- I was already planning to wait until later to watch it on television, so having it permanently accessible from the internet was such a pleasant surprise! And the show… The show, man- That premiere caught me off-guard with how much I enjoyed it! I knew I was looking forward to this show, but still…! It blew away my expectations, and even now, has continued to; It was like my personal investment and attention had paid off so patiently well! I even got a DisneyNOW subscription so I could watch each new episode ASAP, the day it premiered, hours before it aired on television!

           I remember scouring Tumblr before the show officially premiered, and there was understandably very little- A few pieces of fanart here or there. And when the show DID premiere, for a while there wasn’t really much of a fandom- There was barely anyone, in fact! But I can remember a few notable blogs who have been around since the beginning… Me, I got invested into this show. I found myself really enjoying Lumity as a ship, especially since I resonated with both characters in it; Luz was such a ball of sunshine that brightened my day, and Amity really spoke to me with her more introverted, top-scoring personality. When the show hit its mid-season hiatus, I remember not handling it too well, as I got impatient and frantic in my speculations- I wanted so badly to learn more about these characters, see what happened- Get a look at Emperor Belos (then known as Bellows by the fandom), etc.

          I wrote my Bile Coven piece in preparation for Halloween, even got to know a mutual or two over shared theorizing! I kept track of Dana’s updates, and even had people come to my blog, of all places, to send asks! It was and still has been such an engaging part of fandom for me… I recall impatiently waiting for the Owl Pellet shorts and freaking out over them- And when Adventures in the Elements leaked early? I LOST MY MIND, I remember postponing something I was supposed to go to, just so I could watch the episode- And it was so good! Then I started wondering and hoping the rest of Season 1 would come out, and well- It took a while…

          And when Season 1B’s trailer came out, I was all over it; Scouring every possible frame, freaking out over the Grom screenshot, and appreciating the influx of new fans! It was amazing to watch The Owl House go from a relatively minor and obscure fandom, to becoming so much more mainstream and populous! I got into Rebecca Rose’s channel, I began writing more meta and posts about the show, as well as little recaps for each new episode. I feel like my blog really took off from here, as I got to interact with more and more people who shared this mutual love of The Owl House, and I was so ecstatic to see more content and buzz about it!

           My mind was solely focused on The Owl House, it was one of my huge hyperfixations, even moreso than during Season 1A’s run- I remember being anxious about Enchanting Grom Fright, wondering if we’d get queerbaited… But NO, Amity was in love with Luz! She canonically had a crush on her, a girl in love with another girl- And I loved it because Lumity was a special comfort ship of mine! Then Amity was confirmed lesbian… It was amazing! And I found myself SO invested, so inspired by the show and its characters, and all of the little allusions to things, the foreshadowing, the moments here or there that made so much more sense after a new episode.

           This show inspired me creatively- It got me to write some of my personal favorite fanfics, and I was and still am so touched by whatever feedback I get from them! The Owl House really got me to write, to obsess over characters and analyze them, to look at motifs, to think about worldbuilding… It’s been such an artistically enriching experience, both the show and the fandom! I remember despairing so terribly when Agony of a Witch came out, the genuine betrayal I had when Lilith revealed the truth- Because I’d been legitimately endeared to her character beforehand, even formed a sort of ‘trust’ in a sense… And like many others, I agonizingly anticipated the season finale, the much-needed emotional reconciliation!

           I remember how the episode titles were revealed, bit by bit, and how I and others speculated on what they’d spell out! I remember when the fandom obsessed over the Witch’s Apprentice game and its relics, for clues and new lore after each episode, the little hints here or there! I was freaked out by characters like Belos, who lived up to my hopes and expectations- First being alluded to by name, then his amazing appearance… And then his voice and mannerisms and everything about him! And when the Season Finale came out…

           Well, there was relief. But there was a bittersweet emptiness- That it was over! The first season was over! There was a celebratory triumph, of course- We finally wrapped up the first, major arc of the show, the first batch of episodes that had been worked upon, the whole thing now unveiled and appreciated! But I was a little dismayed because a part of me KNEW a hiatus much longer than the previous one was ahead of me, and I did not handle the mid-season hiatus well. Of course, then Dana had her Reddit AMA, and the charity livestream; Both of which NOURISHED me creatively, and have helped to fill out the wait! To carry out my momentum, to not flounder about in hiatus; I invested myself into more meta, into various posts, etc. I read fanfiction that genuinely floored me, obsessed over fanart, etc.

           I supported the show’s release on Disney Plus, ecstatic to get this kind of ready access. I revisited past episodes and characters, looking at them in a new light, appreciating things; Like Luz’s relationship with fantasy… King’s surprising development, all of Eda’s little hints and clues. There’s been an emotional catharsis with these characters for me- And I genuinely feel like I’ve been a lot happier lately because of this show! I’ve met so many other blogs and gotten to know them, seen their ideas and displayed mine as we appreciated one another… I even remember doing another blog’s fanart prompt prior to the show’s release, in preparation!

           I feel like The Owl House has genuinely given me a new appreciation for meta, for fandom and analysis… For headcanons, for writing my own stories and contributing my own ideas and speculations, etc.! It’s contributed SO much joy to me as a hyperfixation, and rapidly risen through my blog as my most frequent tag! And even as I explore other fandoms and hyperfixations, both then and now, especially to pass on this crippling hiatus… This show holds a VERY special place in my heart for me. It’s really made me feel for these characters, the love and sadness, the excitement and sense of comfort… Its love and emotions, angst and found family, lore and speculation, it hits so hard to me in a way that other media hasn’t!

           It’s provided representation- Such as canonically queer characters, or protagonists who speak so well to the neurodivergent experience for many people! I’ve had delight in seeing people suggest Amity as autistic, when before Season 1B, I lowkey headcanoned and saw her as such- So seeing more evidence for this resonated deeply in my heart! I remember all of the discussion about King as a character, the confusion and talk about whether or not he WAS a King of Demons, when that first announcement in 2018 had made a similar claim… I looked forward to Eda and Lilith’s relationship, speculated on who cursed Eda, and remembered when I’d considered the Blights as a potential culprit! I remember thinking about Hooty, wondering what his deal is- And thinking then and now about that Owl Deity mural in the Owl House! Watching Luz’s development as a character and as a witch, seeing her become more proficient with magic until it finally pays off with her squaring up against Belos, and wounding him- I’d never felt so proud of a character and their progress before!

           There’s still so many more questions and mystery, lore… as well as just genuine character interactions, to look forward to! I think The Owl House is one of my favorite shows of all time… It’s deeply touched me as a person and creator, and I genuinely strive to create something even close to this one day. This show has inspired me, made me laugh and cry, compelled me to creatively make content; It’s introduced me to a wider fandom that I genuinely feel like a part of, had me meet other mutuals… It really is something special to me. And while I am eager for Season 2, I also want to appreciate what Dana Terrace and her crew have already established. I love this show’s art style and animation, the designs and overall weirdness of its characters- I love speculating and thinking about them, getting more and more details, and so forth.

           If it’s for a better product, I’m fine waiting for Season 2. And honestly, I love what we already have, and I’ve done a lot with so many people. I’ve even looked over supplementary materials and stuff posted by the crew or news articles, in my need for content… And I love every bit of update, art, and/or acknowledgement of the show’s hiatus, and Season 2’s development! There’s so much to look forward to… And there’s so much that I’ve enjoyed, after plenty of anticipation!

           Thank you @danaterrace, and everyone who worked on this- For everything. It really is crazy to reflect on this entire year, to realize it’s been a full year since that first episode, since that first premiere that lit up my world like Luz’s light spells; And it feels like such a milestone that we’ve reached! I look forward to what comes next, and I also intend to keep appreciating and cherishing what we’ve already gotten. Here’s to this show’s second year, people- It’s been such a journey to look back on and remember each step, each phase, each particular moment and stage… And I can only imagine what will come next! This show has SUCH a special place in my heart, and has made me feel in so many ways I haven’t before!

           Happy Birthday, The Owl House! You’ve earned it!

[johnnyclash87]

Ok I finished this way quicker than I expected! I’m actually really happy with it

@sammi-doll483 @kris-styx I believe y’all wanted to be tagged in this?

3636 had been in over a dozen battles, numerous engagements, and countless near death experiences. But knocking on a Jedi generals door was still the most terrifying thing he experienced. Whenever his previous General, Pong Krell called him to his quarters at best it was orders for another mission that would get hundreds of people killed. Or at worst a lengthy berating over a small failure in the last mission that got hundreds of men killed. Did they move from position? Failure. Did they retreat? Failure? Did they engage the enemy without orders? Failure. It didn’t matter that their position was under heavy artillery fire, or that they were overwhelmed by a force ten times their size, or that the enemy was about to engage them.

But here he was again at the door of a Jedi. Although this wasn’t Krell, it was their new general, Plo Koon. Kel Dor. Jedi Master. Even though the commander and the rest of the battalion were still extremely uneasy around him, he couldn’t help pick up on some significant differences. Like how when passing the troops he would say “good morning”. Or how he actually congratulated a trooper on their marksmanship on the range. Something Krell would have seemed a mere expectation for a Clone.

Whatever this was about, certainly making General Koon wait would not help. 3636 took a deep breath, said a silent prayer to whatever or whoever cared enough to listen, and pressed the ring button. The door slid open, and sitting on a circular mat that hardly looked comfortable was Plo Koon.

“Good afternoon Commander, please come in” hearing his actual rank was still an adjustment. With Krell it was always “3636” or “CC 3636” or he would just bark orders to nobody in particular and expect them to figure out who it was for.

“CC 3636, reporting as ordered Sir”

“Please have a seat,” 3636 stood still and firm at attention.

“Uhm.. at ease.” The commander relaxed his body slightly and slid his right leg out a small distance.

“I’m not sure you’ll take the offer but it would make this conversation easier if you would sit down” Plos voice even through the rebreather felt oddly calm and assuring. He wasn’t sure sitting would make him more relaxed but if it eased the generals mind.., He wasn’t sure if he should sit cross legged like General Koon and elected to keep his feet on the floor. That would make any need for sudden movement easier. As he sat he noticed a scent stick burning on a nearby table. Noticing it, he noticed a sweet warm smell in the air that oddly seemed to lower his heart beat.

“I hope I’m not being hasty but I think I should get to the point of this meeting. I’ve noticed the men are, well they seem very uncomfortable since the transfer” Plo barely moved except his hands in small slow gestures.

“I accept responsibility for the troops performance, I’ll..” with a slow raise of his hand, Plo gently cut 3636 off.

“No, Commander,I’m not blaming you, or anyone. What I would like to know, is why this is, and how I can help”

The commander was nearly always ready with a response or answer to a superiors question, even if the answer was “no excuse”. But he wasn’t sure how to tell one Jedi that the reason his siblings were so terrified was that another Jedi practically beat that fear in them.

“I know it may be hard to believe but I do genuinely care about you and the Troops. It concerns me greatly that you all seem to be in so much emotional pain. You may be bred for war, but you still deserve to be happy”. 3636 had to look away, unless the general see his eyes moisten.

“It’s ok Commander, I’m listening”

“Well General, honestly it’s just how we’re trained. We’re so used to punishment we’ve come to expect it. Some of us have even become numb to it”

“Punishment from your previous General? Master Pong Krell?”

“Yes sir” For a moment Plos muscles visibly tensed as if reacting in shock and anger. Of course Jedi aren’t allowed to get angry.

“Thank you Commander. I know that was hard but you have done your men and possibly more a great service. I will be sure to speak of this to the Council.” If the Commander wasn’t so well disciplined he might have hugged him.

“Before I go on, Commander, there’s a small but frankly important matter. I know it may not fit into military protocol but I can’t keep calling you commander and CC number is well out of the question. Even droids get names”

“It would be nice to have a name but I’m not sure what I would be called.” 3636 was relaxing more and more. This new general was most different.

“I may have a suggestion. I see how protective you are of the Troops, like a

wolf. What if I called you Wolffe ?” The Clone considered the name for a moment.

“‘No need to decide now. What I’d really like to discuss is how we might ease the men’s hearts and minds. I know many of the Troops in other units frequent the bars on Coruscant to relieve stress. Perhaps a trip outside the base might help?”

“Maybe in time sir, but I’m not sure they’re ready for crowds and loud noise.” Never did 3636 think he would not only counter a generals words but actually be encouraged to do so.

“Hmm you may be very right. Perhaps something less, intensive?” Plo stroked his chin or rather his mask thoughtfully.

“I may have an idea, General”

“Please. You know them better than I do”

“During our training, some of the instructors taught us how to paint our armor to make it more distinctive and to help build a sense of community. For many of us it was the most enjoyable and relaxing trainings we received. Maybe we could have the men paint their armor as a way to ease their anxiety and feel more like individuals. We could even have them make a logo and tell them it’s for tactical reasons. That way they feel less suspicious about the idea” This was probably the most 3636 had spoken to well anyone in while.

“I think that’s a great idea. Is there anyone who might be able to take charge of such a project?” General Plo sounded just as ecstatic as the Clone was.

“Actually I think I know the perfect person. 2827. The instructors were very impressed with his painting skills and he even helped some of the other Troopers.”

“Then he sounds like the man for the job. Call him in, if you would, please” Plo was already standing up as the Commander contacted the Trooper. They didn’t wait long before the bell rang. Plo activated the door and invited the waiting Clone in.

If 3636 was on edge when he first came in, 2827 was practically hanging on it by his fingernails

“Commander, General. You asked for me?”

“Yes Trooper. At ease.” 3636 decided it might be better if he started the conversation.

“The general and I have a very important task for you.” This clearly peaked his interest. At this Plo took over

“Your commander and I were just discussing ways to make the unit more efficient. Not that you and your comrades aren’t performing exemplarily. I’m constantly impressed. But if I’m honest distinguishing the 104th from other battalions is a bit of a challenge. So I’d like you to make an insignia for the battalion.”

“And it can’t just be numbers,” 3636 must be feeling more comfortable if he would dare interject when a general was speaking, “it’s gotta let the Seppies know who they’re dealing with”

“Well said Commander. And I’m sure the Trooper is more than up to the task”

“Absolutely, I don’t think there’s a better man for the job” The commander did something he rarely did, he smiled.

“Well Trooper, you have your orders. Can you do it?” Plo didn’t think he would say no, but wanted him to at least feel it was his choice.

“Yes general. I won’t let you down”

“I know you won’t, brother. Dismissed” 3636 gave him one of the most genuinely respectful salutes he ever rendered

“Yes commander” 2827 was heading to the door, a slight spring in his step

“Oh and Trooper”

“Yes commander?”

“Call me Wolffe. Feel free to tell the others too”

Three days later and 2827 was running down the corridor toward Wolffe.

“Commander Wolffe! Is General Plo around? Have you seen him?”

“Take a breath Trooper. He’s actually heading this way” Wolffe hadn’t seen any of his Troops this excited since they completed training.

“Good. It’s done. I finished designing the insignia for the battalion!”

“That is good. Here’s the General now.” Both Troopers came to attention and greeted Plo with a salut which he returned. Something Krell never did..

“Good morning gentlemen. Commander Wolffe, you have the recommendations for promotion? “

“I do General. But actually, Trooper 2827 has the design ready for us.”

“By all means, let’s see it!” Plo showed about as much excitement as a Jedi could. 2827 opened up a folder he had been holding and revealed the image it had contained; a gray wolfs head.

“I thought that if the Commander was a Wolffe, we would be his Wollfe Pack. If that’s appropriate, sir” The Trooper beamed with cautious pride

“It’s very appropriate Trooper. I’m very proud of you and you should be too” Wolffes normally gruff voice cracked a little. Luckily Plo stepped in so he could wipe the dust from his eyes

“This is very excellent work Trooper. You have great skill with a paint brush. Hmm how would you like that to be your name; Brush?”

“I-I like that very much” 2827, or Brush, rather would probably have been just as thrilled if his name was Toast

“Very good then. Well it looks like we have some painting to do then. Requisition some art supplies and tell the Troopers to meet in the training hall. Commander, I think these promotions can wait, don’t you?”

“Definitely general.”

“And Brush, I hope you’ll be kind enough to assist me with my own art.”

“I’d be honored” Brush and Wolffe shared a silent look that let eachother know thinsgs were going to be much better from now on.

[elenamiria]

Contentment

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader The morning after spending the night together the two of you talk until you have to sneak away to get ready for the celebration on Naboo.  Five years later you and Anakin sneak away to a speeder race and get caught upon returning by Obi-Wan.

Part 4 of my Obi-Wan series (which is still unnamed because I’m a mess)

Parts 1,2,3: Beating the Heat*(2.67k)  -  Dessert*(3.8k)  -  The Naboo Sun* (7.89k) Masterlist here  Word count: 4.7k Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, smut - oral (m receiving, rough), dom obi, mild exhibitionism, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (fem!reader), praise kink Here we go again! I hope you all enjoy this chapter of whatever this fic ends up being called (I’m thinking pleasing heat but idk is that stupid, who knows.) Let me know if you want to be added or taken off of my tag list (for this work or all works) Tags: @fishswimbetterunderwater​ @blxwjobsforclones​ @lynnie51​ @a-dorin​

After your confessions to each other you had slipped back under the covers, intent on staying with each other for as long as possible. Slipping into a comfortable silence the two of you basked in each other’s presence content to watch the sun slowly cast its golden light in the room. Once the sun started to fully rise you knew you had to sneak back to your room before any of the council were out and about. Regretfully you started to pull away from Obi-Wan only for him to tighten his grip on you and haul you back into his lap with a playful laugh. You giggled and turned to smile up at him, he had an amused smile on his face that quickly turned to concern as you gasped and shot back up. “Obi-Wan! I have to tell you something”

Once you noticed his face you softly grasped his hand and gave him a soft smile, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. But I believe we’ve developed a force bond.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened for just a second before furrowing his brow in thought, “Darling, what makes you think that?”

You took a deep breath before speaking, choosing your words very carefully not wanting to revive any negative feelings for Obi-Wan.

“When I was back on Coruscant and you were here on Naboo yesterday, I felt these emotions - strong emotions. They weren’t mine.”

You trailed off and Obi-Wan nodded in recognition, then something crossed over his face and he looked down. Voice low he asked, “So you know?”

You paused for a moment and whispered his name questioningly, unsure what he was referring to. When you received no response you reached across the gap between you to rest a hand on his shoulder, “I know what Obi?”

He looked at you, face filled with shame, “You know that I shouldn’t be a Knight!”

Confusion filled your face at his words and you thought back to the emotions you were feeling the day before. Your eyes widened as you looked back at Obi-Wan, who was looking back at the sheets again and you once again called out his name softly. He didn’t respond apart from his hand reaching to nervously tug on the padawan braid which was now absent and instead of letting it drop you moved your hand off his shoulder to weave your fingers together.

“Obi-Wan, I know what you felt that night and it’s nothing to be ashamed about. You witnessed something terrible happen to someone you loved very much so of course you would be angry. It’s only natural”

Obi turned back towards you, eyes hard as he muttered “Yes well I let that anger fuel me and it was more than that. If what you’re saying is true then you know I let hate drive me, I wanted to kill him. I think you know as well as I do that those emotions are not the Jedi way.”

Sadness had once again filled his eyes and you felt a small frown cover your face before you spoke again.

“My love, even though you felt those things that doesn’t make you any less of a Jedi. Even though we’re always cautioned about those as a path to the dark side and you used your feelings to defend yourself. Plus you are still a Jedi, you didn’t succumb to the darkness. You are not like the Sith, you know that you can still have darker emotions and be a great Jedi. Look at my master, he channeled those negative emotions into his fighting - you did the same thing.”

Slowly the cloud looming over Obi-Wan’s countenance lifted and he looked at you, biting his lip. He looked deep in thought and you remained quiet to allow him time to process your words. Finally he nodded and looking to you once more he offered a small smile. Leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and gave him a smile back.

“No one is more deserving to become a knight than you, not only did you defeat a Sith but you did it while using your emotions and you haven’t held on to them, you let them go. That’s a lesson so many of us are still trying to learn, Master Jinn would be very proud of you. Now, no more being down on yourself, Obi! We’ve got to get ready for the celebration and I’ve got to sneak out of here before any of the council are up.”

At this Obi-Wan laughed and followed you up off the bed. You fixed your nightgown so it looked slightly less rumpled and sighed deeply hoping no one was wandering the halls. Just before you left Obi lightly grasped your arms and pulled you into a chaste kiss. Breaking apart he whispered to you, “Thank you, Darling. I truly mean it, you’ve always been there for me and you always know just what to say - something I admire greatly. I’ll meet you when we have to go down for the parade.”

Stroking his cheek fondly you two shared another soft kiss before you snuck into the hallway. Returning back to your room was thankfully very easy as it was still early and it appeared no one had ventured from their room yet. Stifling a small yawn you decided you could chance a small nap and still have time to get ready, plus it would be best if your bed looked slept in. Though the beds were on Naboo were wonderfully comfortable you couldn’t help but think you would fall asleep so much easier in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s embrace”

Pulling your boots on and zipping them you stood back up and looked over your appearance before grabbing your robe and opening the door. When you walked into the hallway you heard voices coming from Anakin’s room, door wide open. You wandered into the room and the sight you were met with caused an affectionate look to cross your face. Obi-Wan was just finishing up shaving Anakin’s head, except for what would become his padawan braid, and the young boy was happily chatting away. Once he finished Obi-Wan brushed off Anakin’s back and shoulders to get rid of any remaining hair and he then passed the boy a folded tunic with the soft instruction to go put it on. Anakin scampered off to the bedroom you made yourself known. Stepping forward you moved to help Obi-Wan clean up the mess with a small chuckle of, “Well that has to be one of the sweetest things I’ve seen in a long time.”

Obi smiled up at you and nodded in agreement. He was about to say something in return when a small voice called out his name and Anakin stumbled out of the bedroom, tunic in disarray. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the poor boy who managed to get his arm stuck in one of the many loops of fabric on the tunic. Obi-Wan immediately went to help him and kind hands gently guided Anakin’s arms out of the tangle he had gotten in. You felt your heart swell at Obi-Wan’s gentle words and actions, if only the order allowed you to have children Obi-Wan would be a great father. He taught Anakin which pieces of fabric laid just so and helped him secure his belt into place before he stood up and backed away to make sure everything was indeed in place. Nodded to himself he then bent down again to quickly braid Anakin’s hair, officially marking him as a padawan. The moment was so sweet and you couldn’t help but grin so wide it hurt your face, you had never felt more at home than you did now. The moment was interrupted by a knock on the wall next to the open door and your masters voice echoing out that it was time to go to the celebration. At this Obi-Wan’s face dropped slightly in anxiousness. You were going to wait to ask him what was wrong on the way to the steps of the palace but Anakin beat you to it with a simple question of “What’s wrong Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan smiled and offered the boy, “Im just a bit nervous is all. I guess I’m still a little shaken by everything that happened.”

Anakin nodded sagely in a move that made him seem much older than he was before he responded, echoing your words to him from the previous day, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there for you no matter what!”

You chimed in with, “Yeah me too.”

And Anakin as well as Obi-Wan shot you big smiles. Obi-Wan rose to walk with Anakin and you to the door as he replied, “I feel much better knowing I’ve got both of you by my side, thank you my young padawan.”

As Anakin’s smile grew prideful it put some pep in his step and he was soon walking ahead of you and Obi-Wan. With a small grin you turned to Obi-Wan, “He’s right you know. You’ll always have us, no matter what.”

Obi hesitated for a moment, looking down, but when he looked back up you could tell he believed your words and the first truly brilliant grin you had seen since arriving to Naboo covered his face.

                                                     5 years later

“Shhh, Anakin! We’ll get caught by Obi-Wan, I don’t know how but I’m sure he’ll find us”

The 14 year old had to stifle a laugh as the two of you snuck back into the Jedi temple. You had caught Anakin sneaking out earlier to go into the city for a speeder race (a rather illegal one at that) and knowing it would be impossible to stop him you instead went with him. In the years since Anakin had come to the temple it was clear how headstrong the boy was and he had definitely mastered the art of sneaking out of the temple. You couldn’t count the amount of times Obi-Wan had gone searching for Ani in the depths of Coruscant to drag him back to the temple. You found it rather amusing that Obi probably knew just as much about underground racing in Coruscant as Anakin did. Your thoughts were interrupted by Anakin bursting in excitement as he recalled one of the more thrilling parts of the race, it was clear he was replaying the whole event over again in his head. This time it was you stifling a laugh as once again you hushed him, “I’m serious Ani, Obi-Wan will definitely find out-”

“Find out what exactly?”

At the amused voice echoing in the near empty hallways you and Anakin froze. Anakin’s eyes grew comically large and you bit your lip to keep from laughing at your hopeless situation. Anakin was the first to turn around and you followed shortly. Obi-Wan was lounging against one of the large pillars of the hallway, some Jedi you were for not even noticing him, his face was fixed in a stern expression but you caught the gleam of amusement in his eye. Anakin started to mumble out an apology before you stepped in.

“It’s my fault we were out, Anakin wanted to go and instead of sending him back to his room I accompanied him into the city.”

You flashed Anakin a small smile as his whole body relaxed slightly. There’s was a pause were Obi-Wan stared at you narrowing his eyes slightly before you added, “I am sorry...Master”

At the last word a smirk curled over your lips knowing how it affected Obi-Wan when you called him that and indeed you caught the way his eyes darkened, body tensing slightly. His gaze slid to Anakin before he stood straight up with a sigh of, “Very well, why don’t you retire for the night my padawan and I’ll see you in the morning for training.”

Anakin gave you a thankful glance before hurrying off towards his quarters. Once his disappeared from sight you turned back towards Obi-Wan who motioned you towards him and you closed the distance between you two. You were dangerously close to Obi despite the fact that the hallways were deserted around this time of night however you were still startled when Obi-Wan firmly gripped your lower jaw and hauled you around to the backside of the pillar. Enveloped in shadow he pushed your back against the pillar and a small annoyed huff of air left him before he spoke, “My sweet girl, what to do with you. Sneaking out with my padawan and not even having the decency to tell me. I was looking for you for hours.”

His dominating role left you breathless and you bit your lip letting a soft whine escape your throat, but you couldn’t help but question your lover “Why didn’t you just use our face bond to find me Obi?”

His facade fell slightly as he looked at you with a slight crease to his brow, “That would have been an invasion of privacy Darling.”

His care for you and unwillingness to cross any boundaries, even when it wouldn’t have bothered you in the least, warmed you body. You leaned forward attempting to kiss him but slipping back into control Obi shook his head before stating, “You don’t get to kiss me yet little one, I still have to punish you.”

A thrill shot straight to your pussy at his words and you felt your breath hitch too, “Punish me, how are you going to punish me Master?”

Obi-Wan groaned softly at the way you drawled out the title master and he glanced around either side of the pillar before hissing, “On your knees, little one”

Your eyes widened, faltering for a moment as you whispered, “Here? What if we get caught?”

A deep laugh filled the air around you as Obi-Wan trailed his other hand, which had been resting on the pillar next to your head, down your body to grope at your breasts over your brown tunic. A dark aroused expression covered his face as he spoke again, “What if we get caught? Well you’d certainly like that wouldn’t you? I think you wanted me to catch you sneaking back in so I’d give you exactly what you deserve and I think you want the thrill of the possibility of being caught right now. I bet if I snuck my hand into those pants you would be absolutely soaked for me. Now, be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”

You couldn’t deny that every word he spoke was true, your whole body tingling in anticipation. Biting your lip you made a show of slowly sliding to the ground, holding eye contact the entire way down. It was only when you settled on your knees that you let your eyes wander to the bugle barely visible in the dark light. Obi-Wan finally let go of your neck only to firmly grasp the back of your head. Leaning forward you nuzzled at the outline of his member pressing on his pants before kissing it and then trailing kisses down his inner thigh as you reached up to undo his pants. You pulled them down just enough to pull his cock free and your mouth watered at the sight. You decided to get right to it instead of teasing him and so you sucked his tip into your mouth, getting it nice and wet before you sunk his length further into your mouth. Obi seemed desperate for you as he tugged your hair slightly pulling you to take him deeper into your mouth. You started bobbing your head up and down slowly each time you tried to slip him deeper into your mouth, when he hit the back of your throat his hand pressed firmly holding you there. A small whine was muffled by his cock in your mouth and you heard the quietest moan before Obi-Wan growled out, “I’m going to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours and you’re going to take it sweet girl, is that alright?”

You nodded best you could and at your consent Obi slowly pulled his hips back before thrusting forward. He never fully pulled out before pushing back into the wet heat of your mouth and when it was clear you were taking him well he sped his pace up. His hand tangled in your hair encouraged your head forward to meet his thrusts and you were trying to keep your choking noises to a minimum as you reminded yourself that you were in the middle of a hallway.

Obi-Wan was quite a mouthful and you did your best not to scrape him with your teeth as he fucked your face, sinking as deep as possible. As you grew more confident you relaxed your throat and Obi-Wan was able to sink into your throat. At the feeling he moaned holding you there. Your throat spasming around him caused his hips to jerk and your eyes shot up to his face as you looked at him pleadingly, your oxygen was running rather low. Another moan slipped past his lips at your expression and he held you there for just a second longer before pulling fully back, you softly gasped for air, head turning slightly, and then a squeak left you as Obi tapped the side of your face firmly with his rigid length and a command of, “Open up.”

You felt your pussy clench at his words and obediently opened your mouth wide, he plunged his cock back in setting another harsh pace.

You couldn’t help slinking your hand down your body and under your pants to rub at your wet panties, a moan left you as you toyed with your wet folds and Obi’s hips stuttered once he realized what you were doing.

“Oh my desperate girl, couldn’t even wait for me to finish could you? So needy, so..” His words faltered as you took him back into your throat again and he forgot what he was about to say when you moaned. Bucking his hips as his head fell back in barely contained pleasure he came down your throat. You whined again as you swallowed down his hot cum and looked up at him as you frantically plunged two fingers into your pussy. You had just started a steady rhythm when Obi-Wan recovered and pulled out of your mouth. He tugged your arm gently and you removed your hand from your pants with a grumble before rising from the ground. He tucked himself back into his pants before guiding your fingers to his mouth to suckle the juices off your fingers. Pulling them out of his mouth with a pop he then captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Once he pulled away he whispered against your lips, “My quarters 10 minutes, I’ll take care of you darling.”

As he spoke his hand came to cup your heat over your clothing and a whimper left your throat before you nodded, repeating back ‘10 minutes’. He pressed another soft kiss to your lips and then he pulled away and after ensuring no one was there he strolled down the hall towards his quarters like he didn't just cum down your throat. You waited another minute before emerging from the pillar and heading the opposite way, taking the long path towards the living quarter, body thrumming with excitement. When you slid into his quarters exactly ten minutes later Obi-Wan stood up abruptly. You shot him a questioning look and he simply shrugged, there was no way he was going to tell you he spent the last five minutes trying to find an enticing pose for when you entered but then got too self conscious - hence him rising quickly when you entered. Shaking off his small display of insecurity he pulled you close to him once you were within reach and slotted his mouth against yours. You trailed your hands over his chest and started to work his clothes off his body, impatient and needy. When you broke apart again Obi let out a breathless laugh at your rapid pace, "And here I thought I was the one missing you. I really was looking for you all over." You laughed slightly as you smiled up at him and replied, "Oh no I missed you very much and I'm very eager to make up for lost time my love""Well, I can't argue with that" Obi chuckled as he started to undress you as well. Clothes were flung away from your bodies as your mouths collided again in a heated flurry. Once Obi had undone your trousers and pulled them down he teased at your still covered heat with his hand. At your delighted noises he slipped his hand past your underwear and rubbed at your wet lips. He made a satisfied noise at the clear arousal and he felt his length twitch as he started to harden again. Slipping two fingers into your drenched folds he pumped slowly before scissoring lightly, ensuring you were fully prepared to take him again. You pulled apart to nip at his neck and you bit at his shoulder as you moaned out, "I want to be on top Obi, let me ride you." Obi-Wan slid his fingers out of you and the two of you stumbled to the edge of his bed, lips locking again as if you couldn't bear to be separated. He sat down heavily on the edge and tugged you down onto his lap. You ground against his semi-hard length, coating him in your juices, and at your touch blood pumped to his cock rapidly. You gave him a few firm pumps before lifting your hips and angling him towards your entrance, Obi's hips gave an involuntary jerk and his cock slipped past your entrance and poked at your ass cheek . A breathless giggle left your lips at the blunder and you realigned him before sinking down slowly. You both moaned out as he drank in your warmth and you reveled in the stretch that you felt no matter how many times you took him in your cunt. Once you lowered your hips all the way and felt him bottom out inside you a small whine slipped through your lips and you nuzzled into Obi's neck, the feeling of being connected overwhelming you for just a moment. His hands gently trailed down your sides to grasp at your hips and gently started to pull your hips in slow circles. Your head fell back at the feeling and finally needing to move you started to raise yourself up and down his cock. At Obi-Wan's gentle moans of encouragement you picked up the pace, the firm slap of your thighs meeting his every time you slid down on him. You were grateful for the firm grip on your waist as Obi-Wan helped bounce you on his hard length as you could feel your thighs starting to burn. Leaning forward Obi captured your mouth in a searing kiss and quickly plunged his tongue into your mouth, asserting his dominance, while you made out he adjusted his grip, one hand sliding down to your ass in order to help you speed up your pace. As you broke apart his mouth nipped at your neck before moving to your chest and capturing a nipple, sucking slightly. When he pulled back he blew cold air on the spot wet with his saliva and your nipple hardened quickly, which he then teased softly with his teeth. Your hands which had been resting on his shoulders for leverage came to bury themselves in his hair. With the length Obi-Wan had let it grow to you were able to tug on his hair to direct him to your other tit, craving the attention. After giving your other nipple the same treatment Obi-Wan picked you up quickly to flip positions. Now standing above you it gave him a better angle to fuck into your wet heat faster and freed his hands to roam your body. As he picked up his pace his breath came out in short pants and in between breaths he stuttered out, "Sorry my love, I know you wanted to be on top, I just couldn't help myself" You were just as breathless as him and gave him a small laugh indicating it was fine, you could hardly find it in yourself to complain - not when he was pounding into you so deliciously. Your hand flew down to toy at your clit as Obi raised your legs to rest on his shoulders so he could get a clear view of you. Moaning loudly at the way your body jiggled every time his cock slammed into you he grabbed onto your hips once again, intent of making it so you couldn't walk without thinking of him tomorrow, and pulled you into him. Your other hand slid up to cover your mouth as you cried out loudly as you rubbed your clit, your orgasm coming quickly. Having been so worked up for so long your release was short but blinding. Your walls clenched tightly around his long hard cock and your whole body tensed, Obi-Wan felt your leg muscle tightening and as he continued his rapid pace, seeking his own release, he turned his head to press soft kisses to your calf. He also took over rubbing gently at your clit as your hand had become rather useless and he whispered to you comfortingly, "That's it my sweet girl, you're doing so well. You look beautiful cumming all over my cock like that, such a good girl." Whimpers flew from your mouth as you came down from your high and you raised yourself on your forearms slightly to watch as Obi plunged in and out of your heat. You trailed your eyes up his body to meet his and you bit your lip before moaning out, "You feel so good Master Kenobi. You're fucking me so well" Obi-Wan's head fell back at your praise and you could tell he was getting close from the way his hips faltered in his pace before speeding up again. You let out another small whimper, knowing just how to push him to cum, and you whined "Oh, Obi-Wan you're incredible, I love you so much. I'm yours, no one else would ever make me feel like this, just you!" At your words Obi pulled out to pump his cock quickly as ropes of white cum flew out of him to coat your body. Obi-Wan's orgasms were never quiet, the air filling with his moans and whimpers mixed with reverent whispers of your name as he milked every drop out of himself to drip on your beautiful stomach. When he finally came down from his high he was met with your soft smile and you couldn't help but whisper out, "You look so incredible when you cum." Obi-Wan blushed at your compliment and suddenly grew shy again, it was cute how dominant he could be but still grow shy around you. He didn't reply instead retreating to get a damp cloth to clean you up.  When he returned you pulled him into a soft kiss, pouring your feelings into your bond and you felt him light up with similar feelings as he allowed his walls to lower for you. Pulling away you nuzzled your noses together, your force bond thrumming with feelings of love and you fell into your post sex routine easily. After being together for so long you knew exactly what the other needed. Tonight you settled against Obi-Wan, sitting in between his legs - back to his chest. You laid at an angle where you could look up at him as the two of you talked about your days, content just to be in each other's company. You pointedly avoided talking about your little excursion with Anakin to the city but you knew at some point Obi-Wan would bring it up to chastise you for encouraging Ankain's rebellious tendency but it appeared he would leave that until morning as a big yawn left his mouth. You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his jaw with the murmured suggestion of sleep. Obi-Wan nodded and lazily slid down under the sheets, taking you with him. You rolled off of him and to the side only to cuddle up against him, his arm slinging around your shoulders in a warm embrace. You sighed and closed your eyes and just before drifting off to sleep you thought 'I love you, Obi-Wan' and the last coherent thought you had before drifting off to sleep was him responding through your bond, 'I love you too darling'.

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Sink Or Swim

tag list: @cleocc @feeling-kinda-so-so @hopelessromanticvirgo @dreamy-slytherin @adora8 @lockerfivethreefive @painfully-oblivious @poeticinemaa @jjustonemorething @saraben00 @wedarkacademia @coolguyssyndrome @hischbabe @suckerforsobbe @tayspots @starmansander @theah0lt @zoenneforever @invisibleme @chibibanane

~^~

Monday, 14:12

Song: gnash - i hate you, i love you

Lucas tugs absentmindedly at a loose thread on his pillowcase as he waits for the boys. He’s been staring blankly at his laptop screen for a quarter hour already, the only tab open to Jens’s Instagram. Devoid of any new posts but with recent messages that Lucas still hasn’t responded to.

Maybe he’s overreacting, but he physically can’t do it. Not after hearing Jens explain that he’d ditched him for Jana. Without so much as a single warning.

It had taken Lucas over half an hour of waiting like a fool and sending Jens messages before he was able to admit to himself that he’d been stood up. He’d gotten Jens’s urgent apology when he was already halfway home, and at that stage, he’d struggled to care what the excuse was. He was tired of feeling stupid. He was angry.

He still is, but he also misses Jens already.

The tone of an incoming video call stops him from falling into that pit of self-pity, and he answers with probably a little too much enthusiasm. He doesn’t care, though, as Kes and Jayden pop into view on his screen, grinning just as ridiculously, cheering as soon as they can see Lucas. Lucas ducks closer to his screen and examines, noting that they seem to be in Jayden’s room and both have a little more scruff on their chins than when he’d last seen them. Weeks ago, he reminds himself. This is his first time seeing his best friends—the people he used to talk to everyday—in weeks.

“Hi,” he says, giddy, already grinning wider than he has in days.

“Hey,” Jayden leans in to examine him closer, blocking Kes and beaming. “I was hoping I could be like ‘you’ve changed’ but you haven’t even changed your hair, Lucas. It looks like you’ve been frozen in time since you left.”

Lucas snorts as Kes shoves him out of the way. “Shut up, Jayden. You look fucking great, Luc. I missed that pretty face.”

“Funny,” Lucas muses, “I haven’t thought about your’s once since I left.”

Kes squawks, and then he’s leaning forward to take up the frame, pointing a finger at Lucas threateningly. He then turns it towards himself and circles the air in front of his face. “You love this face. Don’t even try to lie to me.”

It is a lie, so Lucas doesn’t bother arguing any further. He’s missed them both more than he’s willing to express, for surety they’ll make fun of him in response. They do, however, still have their own ridiculous grins stuck on their faces, so maybe Lucas is judging them too harshly.

“Are you going to tell me what I’ve been missing then?”

Jayden scoffs. “You’re the only thing that’s missing, man. It’s boring as hell without you.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Come on, you’re seriously trying to tell me you haven’t gotten in any trouble the whole time I was away.”

“Well, no one said that.”

Kes rolls his eyes and offers Lucas a shrug. “There hasn’t been much, man. You’ve only been gone three weeks.”

“I’ve already been gone three whole weeks, you mean,” Lucas raises a brow, even though the realisation sinks in and scares him. He’s only been here a little over three weeks. He hadn’t known Jens for the first one, meaning it has hardly taken any time for Lucas to develop such a strong, ridiculous crush on him.

Really, can he even call it a crush? The word feels much too tame to describe the force of his feelings, sometimes.

He has to swallow down the sudden anxiety crawling up his throat as Kes says, “Surely you have more exciting things to talk to us about then.”

“Yeah,” Jayden urges. “You get to meet all the new people. Did you find any of the hot girls yet?”

Kes bumps his arm. “Luc doesn’t have to find the hot girls. They come to him. It’s weird as fuck, man.”

“Fuck you,” Lucas retorts, and it’s half-hearted. His chest feels tight, all of a sudden, and there’s a heaviness that sinks into his stomach and takes root. It’s a weight that had slowly began to drift away, as Lucas let himself drift and entertain the possibility of accepting that part of him. Of thinking that part could be known alongside all the rest without changing anything. He’s reminded now, with his best friends of years looking at him, that it’ll never be that easy. “There are plenty of girls that I’m sure you couldn’t get, yeah.”

The boys both ‘oh’ dramatically in response and Lucas rolls his eyes fondly, even as the ache in him does nothing to dissipate. His smile still feels tight, stretched thin, and he feels suddenly helpless. He’d been hoping that seeing them would put him at ease, would make him feel normal, would allow him to stop thinking about his dad, still at work, and his mother, still in Utrecht, and Jens, still being avoided.

He supposes he should have known better.

“You can at least tell us about this new fancy friend group of yours,” Kes says, casual and genuine, and Lucas wishes the simple request didn’t make him feel worse, but it does.

He forces a shrug. “They’re cool.”

“That’s it?” Jayden scoffs. “Come on, tell us who’s the pretty boy you’re always with, at least. We have to know something about our replacements, yeah?”

“They’re definitely not replacements,” Lucas assures. “No one could replace you. I wish I could just come back.”

The boys share a look, and when they turn back to him, they’ve softened. Lucas’s chest only grows tighter, the ache more thorough. He misses them now even more than he had that first week, when he’d been left feeling completely alone, even wishing for the presence of his dad on occasion just to have the company. It hurts twice as much to be reverted back to the stage when he’d had a taste of something different.

“We’d love that, too, Luc,” Kes promises, and Lucas misses him so much he could cry, and he almost does when he goes on to ask, “Are the pretty boys not even treating you right?”

Lucas shrugs, looking back down at that loose thread on his pillow, smoothing his hand over it this time to feel the bump under his fingers. “They’re cool. Some of them do remind me of you guys. Aaron’s kind of the funny one, I guess, and Moyo’s really cool and kind of freaked me out at first. But they’re nice. Then there’s Robbe, he’s the smaller one with the curly hair? He’s sweet. But his boyfriend, Sander, is really cool. He’s studying art.”

He watches them intently over the word ‘boyfriend’, but nothing in their expression changes other than their smiles widening fondly at the mention of art.

“You’ve already found your perfect clique, then,” Jayden teases. “So what part are you? Still the nice face?”

Lucas shakes his head and pulls the thread. “That’s Jens.”

“That’s right,” Kes drawls. “‘Jensrolt’, yeah? You mentioned him before too.”

Lucas nods. “He was the first one of them I met, so.”

“He seems pretty cool. He’s got the chill, Kes-like vibes,” Jayden muses, elbowing his friend, and it’s enough to finally drag another proper smile out of Lucas.

“He does kinda remind me of Kes, actually.”

“What, ‘cause he took pity on you or because he’s hot as fuck?” Kes raises his brows cheekily and Lucas resists the urge to answer honestly by simply saying ‘both’. Instead he focuses on his best friend calling his crush hot as fuck. Which is weird, but not wrong.

But really weird.

“Maybe because he’s full of himself,” Jayden raises his brows at Lucas, exaggeratedly, mocking, and he and Lucas both laugh as Kes tries to shove him off the bed. Lucas watches them wrestle and glances at his phone.

“I think he might be too pretty and too cool for me, actually,” Lucas mumbles.

Kes and Jayden both stop and look at him, and they’ve lost all previous hints of amusement. “What do you mean?” Jayden asks. “Is he being a dick?”

Lucas shrugs again. “I’m probably just overthinking. I was supposed to hang out with him yesterday and he couldn’t make it, that’s all.”

“He couldn’t make it as in he cancelled on you or he stood you up?” Kes prods.

“It wasn’t a date,” Lucas says, too snappish, too petulant. They can both see right through him. “But he stood me up,” he mumbles.

“Fuck that. Like it’s not hard enough to get used to new friends without them being assholes. Did he tell you why?” Jayden asks.

“He was meeting up with his ex-girlfriend.”

“Fuck that. How long were you waiting for him?”

“Like half an hour? Then I gave up and left. He text me to tell me he forgot because she’d asked him to meet up.”

Jayden scoffs as Kes frowns. “It seemed like you two were getting on well before, though. He’s been friendly enough so far, right?”

“Yeah, he’s been cool right from the start and I thought it was great. I’d found friends. And then he completely forgot I existed. And now I wanna come home to you guys.”

“He obviously didn’t completely forget about you,” Jayden attempts to comfort. “Maybe he had something else going on, too.”

“Yeah, Luc. And if he did then he sucks and you can get better friends than that. But you like them, right? The whole group. And you should trust your own judgment. You’re pissed right now but it probably is a genuine mistake and you probably know it.”

Lucas considers this for a moment and begrudgingly admits that he’s probably right. Kes beams and adds, “But for now, we can say fuck him. It’s us time. Did you talk to your dad about coming down another weekend?”

“Not yet,” Lucas says, sinking into the pillow behind him. “Right now I still have a curfew.”

Jayden snorts. Kes elbows him. “Is he there? We could try to talk him around.”

“No, he’s working. As usual.”

“Fuck that,” Jayden repeats. “Man, you’re lucky you have us. Jens is the last straw. If he fucks up, you tell us, and we’re coming over there to steal you back, okay?”

Lucas laughs, and reminds himself that he is lucky.

[inkweaver22-blr]

Welcome to chapter 14!

This one has been a long time coming, and I’m not just talking about how long it took me to write.

Fair warning: we see the return of why this fic is marked with an explicit violence tag.

Hope you enjoy!

AO3 Link

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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Fourteen: Monkey Sees, Monkey Silenced

Tang is the Monkie Kid! Or should that be the Monkey Kid?

----------

Tang wondered why it had taken so long for a cycle like this one to happen. He tightened his grip on the Ruyi Jingu Bang as he solemnly watched the city shrink into the distance.

He and MK were swapped in this cycle. Tang was a young 24 year old delivery boy who lived above Pigsy’s Noodles and had a thirst for knowledge. MK, or Mr. Xiaotian, as Tang referred to him, was a 41 year old art professor at the local university who liked to tell Tang stories about the Monkey King.

That meant Tang was Wukong’s successor in this timeline. Or at least, he would be once he met the Monkey King at Flower Fruit Mountain. They were all currently on Sandy’s ship, sailing for the Flaming Mountains that surrounded the island paradise.

Tang took a breath as he felt the magic of the staff flow through him. He had noticed the transfer of the Monkey King’s powers into him the moment he had picked it up. It was very different to any other magics or powers he had in the past.

It was a raw, wild, and pure strength that dwarfed any of his previous skills in terms of power. Tang could feel it swirling inside him. The numerous different abilities all seemed to flow into each other and filled him to almost bursting with great destructive potential. He would have to learn how to properly control them to avoid causing too much collateral damage.

MK had managed to do so countless times before, and Tang himself had many experiences with learning new powers over the cycles. How hard could it be?

Tang turned his attention to the ring of volcanoes they were approaching. He wasn’t sure how closely he would have to stick to the original timeline, but decided not to push his luck with the more important events. That meant he would have to lose the staff when confronted by Princess Iron Fan.

That shouldn’t be too difficult. He may have trained with a long pole-type weapon, but it had been a long time since he had been able to practice. Not to mention how one wielded a staff was much different from how you would wield a guandao. Tang would have no problem losing this fight.

Now he only hoped he would be blasted in the right direction to land on Flower Fruit Mountain instead of into a pool of lava.

----------

Luckily for Tang, he was indeed launched in the proper direction. Landing on the beach would have hurt a lot more had it not been for his new power of invulnerability.

Tang watched as the waterfall curtain parted at his touch, making sure to appear suitably impressed. That wasn’t too hard considering he had always needed either Wukong or MK to open it for him in the past.

He entered the cave and looked around, calling out for the Monkey King. Tang approached the mural at the back of the cave, and felt magic flow into his eyes unbidden. The world around him turned into shining shades of gold as his True Sight activated.

Tang watched in awe as the figures on the mural seemed to come to life and began reenacting moments from the famous journey. He may have memories of actually living these events, but seeing them now was still something special.

In front of him was Wukong becoming Tripitaka’s disciple. Over there was Zhu Bajie and Sha Wujing fighting with some demons. Off in the corner was MK, Mei, Pigsy, Sandy, and Wukong standing over his unconscious body. Then there was Macaque, the gold and silver twins, and Spider Queen. Bai Long Ma trotted past with Tripitaka on his back.

Wait, what?

Tang whirled back around to the forms of his family and himself.

No, he had not imagined it. Laying on the ground was the sleeping form of his normal 41 year old self. Projections of the five people he considered his closest family were standing nearby. Sandy and Pigsy seemed to be having a conversation, Wukong was lounging on his tail, and Mei and MK, who was in his normal young form, were looking around the cave.

MK’s and Tang’s eyes met.

The young man seemed to explode into motion as he grabbed the attention of the others and began excitedly pointing at the scholar. The five began waving frantically at him, and Tang, at a complete loss as to what was happening, gave a halfhearted wave back.

Their reaction to that was much more extreme.

MK and Mei were jumping in place as they hugged in joy. Sandy was grinning as he waved both arms even harder. Wukong performed a back flip before pumping his fist in the air. Pigsy looked like he was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his face.

Tang was absolutely baffled.

Wary of some kind of trick, he looked around the cave once more. With his True Sight active, he saw no signs of anything that could potentially be a trap. He did spot one of the projections of Wukong smirk at him before turning to run out of the cave, however.

Squinting in suspicion at the still celebrating group, Tang decided he would deal with it later. Letting the magic fade from his eyes, he chased after the Monkey King. He did his best to push the strange encounter out of his mind so he could focus on the task at hand.

----------

Fighting Demon Bull King using the full strength of the Monkey King’s power had been quite the rush. Tang felt a little bad about all the extra damage he had caused, but most of it had already been dealt by DBK so he supposed it was worth it to take him down.

Sighing in exhaustion, Tang prepared for bed. As he moved around his small apartment, his eyes caught the glow of the street lamps reflecting off his window, making it shine gold.

Oh right. Those projections of his family from earlier.

With a groan, Tang decided sleep would have to wait. He took a seat in his desk chair and took a deep breath. It took a bit of focus, but he was able to push magic into his eyes and activate his True Sight.

The world turned gold and the group appeared to his left near the kitchenette. Tang swiveled his chair around and watched as they noticed him studying them and began to wave excitedly once more. It looked like they were all saying something, yet no sound emanated from them.

Well that complicated a few things. Getting answers from them would be a lot harder without them being able to properly answer.

“You know I can’t hear anything you’re saying, right?”

The group froze at that, before quickly turning to each other and discussing amongst themselves.

“To be honest, I’m not sure if I trust what I’m seeing,” Tang said, catching their attention once more. “You all certainly look like my family, and Wukong’s True Sight can’t be fooled. But I’ve been through quite a bit of cosmic bullshit to know to be wary of what appears to be people I care about standing over what looks like my unresponsive body.”

The group glanced down at said body and began to shuffle around in awkward embarrassment.

“So here’s what we’re going to do.” Tang pointed at the projection of MK. “You, MK, are going to do your best to act out what’s going on. The rest of you,” he turned to the others, “are not to offer any help or instruction in any way, understand?”

They all reluctantly nodded, looking confused.

“Good. Begin whenever you’re ready.”

Tang watched as the young man did his best to act something out. As the performance continued, Tang felt the suspicion slowly ease and a smile grew on his face.

“Well I know for certain now,” he said once MK had finished. “No matter the timeline, you will always be terrible at charades, MK. No one could ever pretend to do that poorly.”

MK exploded with indignity as the others laughed at him. He crossed his arms in a huff and only turned back to the group once Wukong ruffled his hair playfully.

Tang smiled again as he watched the interaction. Being a good actor came with the ability to tell when others were acting as well. The reactions he was seeing were much too genuine to be faked.

“Okay, I believe you aren’t here for any malicious purposes. But now that I know I can trust you all, how can we go about figuring this out?” Tang drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair. “I could ask you yes or no questions, but without the right ones we could go in circles for hours. Writing out the alphabet and pointing to each letter until we spell out a word would take just as long.”

Tang stood and tried to approach the group. As he did, their projections moved with him, staying a set distance away and phasing through the wall out into the open air. He moved back and turned in place. The group did not move with him this time, remaining in the spot they had appeared.

“Well so much for seeing if we could physically interact,” he said once he sat back down in his chair.

His family seemed just as stumped as he was. They all were talking back and forth before Wukong suddenly jumped up, waving for attention.

“You have an idea, Wukong?”

The monkey nodded before sitting in a meditative pose. After remaining still for a few moments, he took his hands and placed them on his chest. He pulled them away and cupped them before him and began to inspect them closely. It took a couple repetitions before Tang understood what he was trying to say.

“You want me to manifest my soul?”

Wukong nodded as Mei said something to MK, causing him to pout.

“Don’t tease MK, Mei,” Tang said as he got into his own meditative position. “There’s nothing wrong with not being able to act out complex ideas.”

The group all just stared at him in surprise.

“I may not be able to read bad acting, but body language is easy enough to understand,” he said as he began to focus. “Now give me a moment.”

Manifesting his soul while keeping the True Sight active was a bit tricky. He had learned this ability back during the cycle with the copy of Tripitaka sealed into a statue, but never had to use it at the same time as another power. It took him longer than usual, but he was eventually able to bring his soul forward.

It looked the same as it always did. Many strands of light loosely wrapped into the vague shape of a sphere and plenty of empty space in the center. The strand that pointed off into infinity was leading out the window above Tang’s bed. It had taken him a few cycles to realize it always pointed to the West.

“Okay, so what am I looking-” Tang trailed off when he spotted something new.

A second strand was leading off from his soul. It pointed in the exact opposite direction of the first, heading East. It ended at one of the little knots that represented the larger pieces of his soul.

It was positioned directly above the form of his unconscious body.

The others seemed to be able to see the strands as Wukong pointed at the knot floating above his body and began to mouth out a word.

“Start?”

Wukong nodded and pointed towards the strand leading out the window and said another word.

“End.”

Grinning enthusiastically, he finally pointed at the soul in Tang’s hands and said one last word.

“Now.”

Tang’s breath caught.

He knew the strand leading into the West was connected to all the remaining pieces of his soul and would eventually have an end once he reached the last one. He knew his soul looked the way it did to represent how much of it he had managed to gather currently.

That left the start.

Several pieces began to fall into place.

“You’re- You’re the voices I hear calling out my name at the start of each cycle.” Tang absently returned his soul and he stood and stared at the smiling group.

They nodded in affirmation.

Tang’s breath became shallow.

“Are you- Are you from my original timeline?”

The group burst into joyous celebration, nodding and giving each other high fives.

Tang sat back onto his chair in shock.

His family, his first family, were standing only a few feet away.

He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

A sharp pain flashed behind his eyes before he could do either, and he grasped his head as it began to throb.

“Gah!”

He glanced up to see the group now watching him with concern. Wukong was gesturing at his own eyes, closing them slowly in exaggeration. Despite the pain, Tang was able to understand the message.

“Turn off the True Sight?”

Wukong nodded.

“But- ack!” The pain grew sharper. “But I have so many questions!”

Pigsy glared sternly at him and pointed to his bed. Sandy gave a comforting smile and pointed at the ground they were standing on.

Go to sleep and we’ll be here when you come back.

“Fine. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Wukong shook his head sadly and held up three figures.

“Three days?!” Tang gasped as the pain continued to build. “Shit! Okay, fine. Three days.” Tang gave them all one last look over. “I’ll see you then.”

They all gave him a thumbs up and Tang released his hold on the True Sight. He sighed in relief as the pain lessened slightly. His apartment looked much darker without the golden light filling everything.

Tang made his way into bed, physically and emotionally tired. He hated that he would have to wait for his answers. None of this made any sense.

His head throbbed painfully as he tried to think about what had just happened. Resigning himself to not being able to come to any sort of conclusion on his own, he settled down to sleep.

At least he had three days to come up with the proper questions he would need to ask. Hopefully the rest of the cycle would continue as normal so he could get some answers.

----------

The Wukong from his own time had been right when he had told him to wait three days before activating the True Sight again. The massive headache Tang had from overusing it lasted the entire time. It had distracted him during the incident with the weather station on the second day, making him quickly lose control of his abilities.

The seal this timeline’s Wukong had placed on his powers so he could control them helped a bit. The sharp pounding had only receded to a dull throb, but Tang found it to be a drastic improvement. He was able to take down Red Son and rescue his family fairly quickly afterwards.

It was currently the evening of the third day and Tang was making his way back to Pigsy’s Noodles after making his final delivery for the night. He drummed the steering wheel impatiently as he waited in traffic. His headache was completely gone so he could finally get some answers tonight once he was alone in his apartment.

The nerves and excitement eventually got to him and Tang began to take shortcuts down less used side streets to get back quicker. A few blocks away from the shop, he turned down one final alley that was shrouded in darkness, not thinking much of it.

He really should have expected being forcibly pulled from the vehicle and slammed up against the wall.

Before Tang could react, something was slapped against his chest and he felt the access to his powers cut off entirely while his body became paralyzed.

“So this is the Golden Boy’s so-called successor,” said a familiar voice. “Can’t say I’m too impressed.”

Tang’s blood ran cold as he stared up into the sneering face of the Six Eared Macaque. He did his best to struggle but whatever the shadow demon had done had left him completely immobilized.

“Don’t know why he would pick a weak little human like you. Your kind has such terrible senses. You didn’t even notice my presence until it was too late.” Macaque eyed Tang up and down, frowning in disapproval.

“He could have at least found another monkey like us. Would have been way more thematic.” Macaque smirked as he held up a small purple gem with a spiked point. “Luckily I have a way to fix that.”

Sweat rolled down the side of Tang’s face as he watched in fear while Macaque positioned the spiked end of the gem against the base of his throat.

“You can thank me for this later,” Macaque said with a manic and sinister grin.

Macaque stabbed the gem into his neck.

The paralyzing effect holding Tang in place broke and he convulsed on the ground as purple electricity raced across his body.

The last thing he was aware of was the sound of Macaque’s laughter mixing with his own screams before he mercifully blacked out.

----------

Tang slowly regained consciousness.

He didn’t have the dream about the cave so that meant it was still the same cycle. Whatever Macaque had done hadn’t killed him this time.

Although Tang wasn’t sure if the full body ache and fire in his throat was a better outcome.

He was in a bed he realized, and there were faint voices he could just pick up.

Not having the energy to move, he did his best to focus on what was being said.

“-managed to remove the second seal blocking his powers, but left the one that allows him to control them,” said a voice Tang didn’t recognize.

“What about the choker? Were you able to remove it?” Tang recognized Wukong’s worried tone right away.

“That is one nasty piece of jewelry,” said the first voice with a sigh. Tang assumed it was a healer of some kind. “One of its effects is that should anyone other than the one who put it on the victim remove it, the victim would immediately die.”

There were several sharp intakes of breath.

“That’s only one of the effects?” Mr. Xiaotian was here as well it seemed. Were they all waiting for him? “What all does this thing do?”

“There’s only three curses I detected,” said the healer. “You’ve seen the physical changes of the first, and know the dangers of the second. The third is perhaps the most cruel however.

“Your young friend is no longer capable of physically communicating complex thoughts or ideas.”

What?

“What does that mean?!” Pigsy sounded angry, but Tang could notice the undercurrent of fear. “Are you saying he’s lost his intelligence?”

“Not at all. His thoughts will just be trapped in his own mind and he will be unable to share them.”

Tang felt fear begin to gnaw at him.

The healer sighed once more, this time sounding saddened.

“It is truly an insidious curse.

“He’s been rendered completely mute, so he can’t talk. If he were to attempt using sign language, he would temporarily lose the coordination of his hands and fingers. Anything he will try to write or type out would end up as incomprehensible gibberish.

“The best he would be able to do is point at things and shake his head yes or no.”

Tang was suddenly cold.

That was…

No.

No no no no!

He couldn’t lose his ability to communicate! Not this cycle!

He finally had a lead to how this had all started! He needed to be able to ask his family from the original timeline questions!

Who knew when he would ever have access to Wukong’s True Sight again? If it ever happened at all?

Tang struggled to open his eyes, hissing in pain as the light filled his vision. He raised his arm to block it out, only to pause at what he saw.

Hadn’t the healer said there had been a curse that caused physical changes?

Bright golden-yellow fur covered his arm, and his hand had been replaced with a paw.

Ignoring his protesting body, Tang sat up and looked around. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, but it appeared he didn’t need them any more.

He wasn’t in a hospital. The room was set up in a traditional style with the typical furniture one would find in a guest room.

Tang found what he was looking for when he spotted the full length mirror on the opposite side of the dresser.

He climbed out of the bed and made his way over, doing his best to move past the pain.

Tang stepped in front of the mirror.

A monkey with golden-yellow fur, cream colored face and chest, and silver face markings that resembled an open book stared back.

Around the monkey’s neck was a black metal choker, the flat side of the purple gem at its center.

“He could have at least found another monkey like us. Luckily I have a way to fix that.”

Ah. So that’s what Macaque had meant.

Tang pressed his trembling fingers against the glass.

He really shouldn’t be so surprised. It had happened to MK so many times that he should have expected it to happen to him as well.

So why did he feel so numb?

Tang opened his mouth to try and say something, to try and prove the healer wrong. To convince himself this wasn’t actually happening.

But the only sound that came out was a raspy breath.

“Hey, bud?” Wukong poked his head through the door, frowning at Tang in worry when he saw him standing at the mirror. “You… You really shouldn’t be out of bed, kid.”

Tang nodded blankly, shuffling back over to the bed and sitting down. Wukong closed the door behind him and made his way over to sit beside him.

“I bet you have a bunch of questions,” Wukong said.

Tang shook his head.

“No?”

Tang pointed at the door and then to his ears.

“You heard us talking?”

Tang nodded.

“Oh.” Wukong shuffled nervously. “Are… Are you okay?”

Tang took a shuddering breath. He turned to his mentor with tears in his eyes and shook his head.

“Oh, bud.” Wukong quickly scooped the younger monkey into his arms as he began to sob silently. “I’m so, so sorry. I should have been keeping a better eye on you. I should have been there to interfere and prevent this from happening. This is all my fault.”

Tang cried into the Monkey King’s chest.

He cried for the pain he felt at the hands of someone he considered a part of his family.

He cried at being forced into a different form unwillingly.

He cried for the loss of his ability to communicate

He cried for losing what may be his only chance to talk to his family from the original timeline.

He cried at the unfairness of the cycles and the universe in general.

Tang cried.

Yet he barely made a sound.

----------

“Hey, bud!”

Tang looked up from his meditation at the approaching Monkey King.

It was a few weeks later. Wukong had practically forced him to move to Flower Fruit Mountain in order to keep a better eye on him.

Tang didn’t mind. Without his ability to communicate, he couldn’t do his job at Pigsy’s Noodles anyway. Pigsy had let him keep the apartment, just in case he wanted to spend the night in the city.

Tang smiled up at Wukong as he stood. It was nice to be the one with multiple father figures for a change.

“So I think I may have a way around the communication curse,” Wukong announced brightly.

Tang’s eyes widened as he tilted his head in curiosity. It hadn’t taken him long to learn how to convey how he felt through body language alone.

“The curse only prevents you from communicating physically, right?”

Tang nodded.

“Well there’s a power I have that lets me speak to someone from a distance. I, uh, actually kind of forgot about it because my astral projections have a longer range so I don’t use it much.”

Tang snickered silently as Wukong rubbed his head in embarrassment.

“Anyway! How would you like to learn telepathy?”

Tang blinked as he processed that. Telepathy certainly wasn’t a normal power the Monkey King usually had.

It also wasn’t a physical form of communication. You instead projected your thoughts psychically to those around you.

Tang pumped his fists in the air and performed a back flip in excitement. Being a monkey had certainly made him much more nimble.

“I thought you’d feel that way,” Wukong said with a laugh. “Want to get started now?”

Tang immediately sat down and stared eagerly at his teacher.

“I’ll take that as a yes!”

----------

Telepathy had been hard to master.

The first weeks of the process had Tang randomly projecting his subconscious thoughts to anyone nearby. There had been some awkward moments when he accidentally projected things from previous cycles, but he was able to wave it off as daydreams.

It had taken some work, but Tang could now pick out a single person within a few hundred miles and send them a specific message. It was a tiring process, so he didn’t actually use it often, but he could do it.

He could communicate again!

Tang stood alone in the apartment above Pigsy’s Noodles and activated his True Sight.

He had done this a few times after the attack, just to be sure that his family would still be there.

Like the previous times, the group of five and his body appeared to the East of him. They all waved in greeting and Tang waved back.

Tang took a breath and looked MK directly in the eye.

‘Can you hear me?’

MK’s smile didn’t change as he eagerly watched on.

‘Hello? MK? Mei? Anyone?’

None of them reacted.

No.

‘Hello? Please! Can any of you hear me?!’

The groups’ smiles began to fade as Tang became visibly upset, his fists clenched and shoulders trembling.

No!

This wasn’t fair!

He had worked so hard!

Tang fell to his knees as tears poured down his face.

This had been his last hope. His last shot at trying to get any answers.

It hadn’t worked.

Frantic waving from the group caught his attention.

The five of them had knelt down to be closer to his eye level. They were all smiling gently, their expressions kind and forgiving.

MK placed his hands together, forming a heart. The others soon followed suit. Even Wukong.

It’s okay. We still love you.

Tang choked as his tears fell harder. He shakily put his hands together and formed his own heart.

I love you too.

Tang decided this was the only answer he needed.

----------

Bet none of you saw that coming!

I’m going to enjoy seeing you all try to come up with an explanation for what’s going on. :3c

Monkey Tang’s design is something I came up with myself. I’ll see if I can draw it out for a better reference.

Look out everyone! The plot is here and it won’t be stopping any time soon!

Until next time!

[boltwrites]

I Vote Makeovers!

Fandom: The Legend of Korra Pairing: Bolin / Reader (feminine) Rating: K Tags: Makeovers, Very Tender Makeup Application

fakelavish requested:  hello again! 🥰 i know you’ve got a long list but i’ve another SFW request for a female reader when you can manage! ik Bolin would be open to a makeover! the reader would be straddling him applying his makeup like in that ✨one meme✨ and he’d be really confused by all the different products and would probably be scared of the mascara wand poking out his eye 🥺 prob’s wouldn’t stop looking at himself in the mirror feeling all empowered 😌 we love a man who’s comfortable w/ his masculinity ❤️❤️❤️

A/N: as a he/him that does makeup... you go, Bo, you go. also this took fucking forever and i struggled with it a LOT but i finally finished it and i don’t think it’s half bad! title is inspired by that one line Bolin says in “The Aftermath” when Korra and Asami are talking about bonding... you know that boy wanted to get in on the makeover action.

You leaned close to the mirror, holding the pencil steady as you meticulously filled in your eyebrows. You were just going to the store with Bolin, but you still liked to wear makeup. It was like a little piece of art you could wear every day, and you loved collecting new products and trying them out.

As you finished applying your mascara, you heard a knock on your door. That was probably him!

“Come in!” You yelled, and you heard the door open, the creak distinctive to your ears at this point. “I’m in the bedroom,” you called, in a softer voice, now that you knew he could hear you.

Bolin made his way to your bedroom, and when he peeked in, you could see his shocked expression reflected in the mirror. You weren’t surprised – there were a lot of different products currently played over your vanity at the moment. He probably thought you were being a bit excessive, since you two were just running errands.

“Oh, hi Bolin! Don’t worry, I’m almost done,” you promised him, capping your eyebrow pencil and grabbing a nude lipstick.

“Oh, it’s OK, I don’t mind,” Bolin assured you, taking a few steps into your room, his eyes never leaving your face as you applied your lipstick. You smiled at him, turning and lowering the product from your lips.

“What?” you chuckled, and Bolin blushed, scratching the back of his head. He had been staring at you pretty intently, and you thought it was so cute when he blushed.

“Nothing! I mean, not nothing – I’ve never seen you put on your makeup before. I – it sounds kinda stupid, but I never really thought about how you do everything… I thought it was just like, maybe some kind of big puff, and then lipstick,” he shrugged, gesturing to the collection of products scattered around you. You smiled at him, picking up your setting spray to finish your look.

“No, it’s a little bit more complicated than that,” you giggled, spritzing your face. Bolin watched you curiously, leaning against one of your bedposts as you fanned your face.

“What was that?” he asked. You smiled, setting the spray down.

“It’s setting spray,” you replied, not wanting to bore him with the details. You were used to people only asking about your makeup as a formality, to be polite. Your friends weren’t interested in the slightest, besides Asami, who only knew the basics and didn’t stray far outside her signature dark lip. Your previous boyfriends had ranged from complete apathy to downright dismissive of your hobby, so you didn’t want to bore Bolin with the details.

But he pressed.

“What’s it for?” he asked, drawing nearer, his eyes raking over the products scattered across the vanity. You watched him in the mirror, as he actually looked at your products with interest, his eyebrows scrunched quizzically as he tilted his head to the side, rubbing his chin with a thumb. Usually, you would just move on, to the next topic, not wanting to ramble, but Bolin actually looked interested.

“It helps your makeup stay on, here-“ you passed the bottle to him, and he took it, examining it closely. You grinned, thinking that he looked to cute. “It can also help it blend together. Sometimes when you put on your blush on top of your foundation, it won’t look quite right, and-“

“What are those?” he asked, then backtracked. “Well, I know blush, it’s the – the blushy one! For your cheeks!” he pinched his own cheek in demonstration, gesturing with the other that still held the setting spray, and you giggled at his exaggerated movements. “But what’s foundation?”

“It’s this one,” you handed him the container, and he examined it curiously. “It’s the foundation of your face, so it’s used to even out your skin tone. It also helps other products stick better to your face.”

“Oooh,” Bolin nodded, understanding. You leaned back in your chair, watching him as he looked over your products with enthusiasm you hadn’t really expected from him.

“I could do your makeup sometime, if you like,” you offered with a chuckle, thinking that your comment would be taken as a joke. You would like to do Bolin’s makeup – he had such long, pretty lashes, and you knew that with the right products your could bring out all his best features – his strong jawline, his cute button nose, his wide green eyes. But you also knew that the last time you put makeup on a man, he had immediately washed it off, as if it had been a chore to have you put it on him in the first place. That was back when you were training to be a makeup artist – you had since moved past that profession, partly because of that experience.

But Bolin, instead of laughing, looked at you with wide eyes, his reaction sincere. He looked… excited? Hopeful? But then he caught your eyes and blushed, looking down, setting the products back on your vanity.

“No, you don’t have to,” he chuckled, but it was awkward, and then your own eyes lit up. Would he let you? Did he want to?

“No, I want to! You would look so good, with some contour, and mascara-“ you were almost completely turned around in your chair, looking like an eager kid in a candy store as you watched Bolin. He blinked at you, shocked.

“Really? You – you wouldn’t think it was weird or anything?”

You shook your head, vigorously. “No – not at all! I mean, I’m surprised you don’t know more about it, actually. I would think that back when you were a mover star, that you would have worn some.”

“Really?” he asked, taken aback by the assumption. You nodded, getting up from your chair.

“Yeah! I mean, I know you were filming back when movers were brand new, but when I was thinking about working as a makeup artist-“

“You were going to be a makeup artist?” Bolin asked, his eyes wide, almost glittering as he stared at you in awe. You blushed, flustered that he would consider that something worthy of the awe it seemed to inspire in him.

“Well, yes, I considered it a while ago. A lot of the other artists I talked to worked mostly with mover stars – and all of them wear makeup on set. Of course, mover makeup is a lot different than what you would wear for a night out…”

“Then really, it’s weird that I’ve never done my makeup!” Bolin connected the dots. Or, he attempted to. You grinned at him.

“It’s weird that you’ve never had your makeup done. Actors don’t do their own makeup. They have people like me do it for them. Or, I would have…” you trailed off, looking down.

“Well, it makes perfect sense, right? I’m an ex-mover star, and you’re a not-quite-professional makeup artist, so it works out!”

You snorted, shaking your head as you took a step towards him, leaning up for a quick peck on his lips.

“Of course it does,” you agreed, because he was very sweet, and you really did want to do his makeup for him. “But first, before we do that – errands!”

“Oh, right!” Bolin stood up straight, as if he had only just remembered that he had come over to your apartment for a reason. You grinned wide as you both gathered your things and headed out for your errands.

You didn’t have too much to pick up – just some thing for dinner. You and Bolin were having a nice night in at your place. He was going to teach you how to cook some of his favorite food, and as you shopped, he remarked that since he was teaching you how to cook, it only made sense that you should teach him how to do his makeup. You had laughed, but you did think he was right, in a way. It did make the exchange more equal.

So, you gathered your food, and cooked your dinner. It was wonderful – and afterwards, you two sat around the fireplace in your apartment, sipping on an additional glass of wine each as you just enjoyed each other’s company. The food had been amazing, and the wine was surprisingly sweet. As you sipped yours, Bolin arm wrapped his arm around you as you both watched the flames dance.

“You know,” Bolin remarked, his cheeks already a little pink from the wine, even though he hadn’t had that much of it. “We should do my makeup tonight.”

“I was planning on it,” you giggled, snuggling in. “But now I’m too comfortable. It’s nice and warm by the fire, and it’s always so cold in my room this time of year.”

“Aw,” Bolin pouted, whining at you. “But what if we just did it out here!”

“Hm,” you considered it for a moment, setting your glass down. “That could actually work. You’ll have to promise to stay still for me, though.”

“I promise not to move an inch! Stock still!” Bolin sat bolt upright, his back straighter than you thought you had ever seen it. You snorted, ruffling his hair with your hand as you stood up.

“Thank you, sweetie,” you smiled, patting his shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

You returned in only a few minutes, but your arms were laden with makeup when you did. It spilled out of your arms and onto the coffee table when you returned, and you had to make a frantic grab at a few lipsticks as they threatened to fall off the table and roll under the couch.

“Alright, we’ve got everything,” you said, reaching for the moisturizer first. Bolin looked so excited, his eyes bright as he smiled at you, and you couldn’t help but return it.

“Turn so you’re facing me – yeah, that’s perfect,” You mumbled. You brushed your hand through his hair, trying to press his curls into place, but one stubborn piece of hair kept popping out, onto his forehead. You frowned, biting your lip.

“Actually, wait right here,” you added, zipping into the other room for a headband. You used it to push Bolin’s hair back, and it effectively held the curl in place. You smirked in triumph – and also, because Bolin looked absolutely adorable with a headband.

“Now, you gotta tell me what you’re doing when you’re putting all this stuff on me!” Bolin demanded, pouting a little at you. “I don’t want to sound stupid if I ever get my makeup done again and I don’t even know what’s going on!”

You shook your head, squeezing some moisturizer out of the bottle and rubbing it against his cheeks, working it over the rest of his face. “Of course. This is moisturizer, by the way,” you added, your voice low as you worked.

“And what does it do?” Bolin asked as you pressed it into his forehead. This was intimate in a way you hadn’t realized it would be. Unlike when you had worked on clients, Bolin’s knees were almost knocking into you, and you could use your hands to press the moisturizer into his skin, warm and soft under your fingers. Like this, you could spend as much time as you wanted looking at his face – his pretty green eyes, his button nose, his bushy eyebrows, his full lips – you wondered what they would look like with lip gloss on them.

“Uh,” you stuttered, distracted. “It puts moisture back into your skin. It’ll help the foundation go on smoother.”

“Oh, cool,” Bolin mumbled, his knees knocking into yours. It wasn’t the most comfortable position in the world, you had to admit, you twisted so far to the side.

“Next is foundation,” you told him, as you placed a small dollop on the back of your hand. You had broken out some samples in different colors to match his skin tone. “I have to find the one that matches your skin tone the best so that it looks seamless and it blends in well.”

You swatched a few different shades against his cheek, cradling his jaw with your other hand to keep him from moving. Even though he had promised to stay still, you always felt like this made your work better, when you could hold his head in place as you worked. And the fact that you could feel his pulse under your fingers, brushing against the soft hairs at the base of his neck, just made it better.

“I think this one is the best,” you mumbled, brushing the other samples away with a towel. You gathered your foundation brush and dipped it into more of the same color, brushing it over Bolin’s face gently – but Bolin kept flinching, trying not to laugh.

“Y/n – it – why does it tickle?” he tried, between giggles, to stop moving against your hand. You frowned, trying to hold him still and failing.

“I don’t think it tickles!” you countered, pouting at him. Bolin shrugged sadly.

“But you’re doing it to yourself! Everybody knows you can’t tickle yourself!”

You bit your lip. You couldn’t work like this – not with Bolin giggling and twitching while you were trying to work – and not with your knees constantly knocking together, which was pretty annoying on its own.

“Alright, we’re gonna try something different,” you declared. Bolin stared at you, his face only half covered in foundation. “Lay down on the sofa, and I’ll climb on top of you.”

“I have a feeling they don’t do that when they’re applying your makeup on a mover set,” Bolin commented, just joking as you stood up so he could move. He was right – it was unconventional, for sure, but it wouldn’t matter how professional you were. You were only doing your boyfriend’s makeup for fun.

Once he laid down, you threw a leg over him, and his eyes went wide. You grinned as you sat on his lap.

“Ah, much better,” you sighed, making a show of how nice it was to sit on top of him, leaning down to pat more foundation onto his skin. It really was easier to control his head this way – there was no way for him to rear back, and he was so shocked that he hardly flinched at all while you patted on the rest of his foundation.

“Next is concealer,” you said, leaning over him to apply it. His body was warm and firm under you, and you could feel his breath as you applied the cream under his eyes. “It had a bunch of uses – for more prevalent skin imperfections, it can be blended into foundation to give you an even canvas. Like if you have a pimple, for instance, you use concealer to cover it,” you taught him, applying it under his eyes. “But for you, I��m just using it to conceal the dark circles under your eyes, and brighten them up a little. It helps give depth to the face.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Bolin breathed, and you could tell that instead of paying attention to your words, that he was transfixed by how close you were to him, how easy it would be for him to kiss you.

You applied the rest of his makeup – his blush, contour, and highlight, letting him know exactly how to make his face even more chiseled and lovely. After you were done, you leaned back.

“Now, Bo.”

“Hmm?” he asked. He blinked up at you, as his eyes had been closed as you powdered his face. He was so content there, you thought he might fall asleep.

“What kind of a look do you want? I can go more natural, and just do your eyebrows,” you offered, although you doubted that your eyebrow pomade would add much to your boyfriend’s already thick brows. “Or, we could go all out, and I could put on eyeshadow and mascara – “

“I wanna go all out,” Bolin replied, a little more alert now as he smiled up at you. “I wanna see what you come up with.”

You blushed, smiling at his encouragement. It made your heart flip, how much he seemed to enjoy this. Maybe you two could do this more often, and maybe if Bolin wanted, one day he could do your makeup too.

“Alright. I’ll do your eyebrows, and then we’ll move on to the fun stuff,” you giggled, and he returned your enthusiasm with a chuckle.

You smoothed his brows with some pomade, but didn’t move in with any plucking or trimming tools for him. Although a lot of your former colleagues would have scoffed at how bushy, and somewhat unruly Bolin’s brows were, you thought they were very handsome, and with a bit of tinted pomade, you were able to control them a little more.  

Then, you moved on to eyeshadow. You pressed even closer to Bolin for this part.

“Now, I’m going to do some eyeshadow on you. Traditionally, eyeshadow was used to make your eyes look more deep set, but eyeshadow can also be used to enhance your natural eye color. Now, close your eyes for me.”

Bolin did, and you pressed the pigment onto his lids, trying to be as gentle as possible.

“For example, you have green eyes. And the complimentary color to green is red. So, if I use red-toned eyeshadows on you, it’ll make your eye color look even more vibrant,” you spoke softly as you worked.

“That’s so cool,” Bolin mumbled, careful to keep his eyes closed. “It’s like you’re painting or something.”

“I think it’s a form of art, yeah,” you replied, blending the shadow up further, then picking a highlight color for his brow bone. You had chosen a palette of reds and browns for his eye look – something that would make his eye color pop, but would also add some depth.

“And that makes me your canvas,” Bolin replied, smiling a little. You couldn’t help yourself, and you leaned down to kiss him soft and gentle, cradling his jaw in your hand.

“The most handsome canvas I’ve ever seen,” you replied with a giggle, and Bolin opened his eyes to grin at you. He looked so stunning already, he would be drop dead gorgeous by the time you were done with him.

Mascara was… difficult. You had to cradle his head very gentle as you told him to blink, wiggling the wand up as he did so. Surprisingly, he took it like a champ, unlike many of the other individuals you had practiced on over the years. You applied a nude lip to him, and a healthy coat of gloss, and then, with a spritz of setting spray, he was done.

“You’re all set,” you said, not wanting to move from your spot on top of him. He was warm, and solid under you, and you just wanted to cuddle close to him – but also, you didn’t want to mess up his makeup.

Because now, as you looked at him, sitting up straight on his lap? He was beautiful. The mascara made his already long eyelashes pop even more than before, and the red eyeshadow practically made his eyes glow. His cheekbones and jawline were accentuated, and you had contoured his nose just right. The best part were his lips though – the gloss made them look slick, and somehow even fuller than usual.

“How do I look?” he asked, with a little shy smile. He sat up and flexed, as if that would do something to his makeup look. You chuckled, covering your mouth with your hand.

“You look… you look stunning,” you admitted. “Do you want to see?”

“Do I want to see – of course I want to see! My wonderful girlfriend spent too much time on it for me to not look!”

His praise made you blush, but you offered him the hand mirror you had brought out with you, leaning over the top of it so you could see his reaction.

As soon as he caught sight of himself, Bolin’s jaw dropped. He turned to the right, then the left, gasping at the look.

“That-that’s me?”

“That’s you,” you replied, with a broad smile. He looked at you in wonder.

“I look so different!”

“Do you like it?” you asked, a twinge of guilt tugging at you. What if he didn’t like it – what if he thought he looked dumb?

Instead, Bolin looked at you as if you had asked him the most obvious question in the world.

“I love it! No wonder you do this every day – I look so cool! My eyes are like… whoa!” He gestured wildly, almost knocking you off of his lap, and you laughed loud and happy, pressing yourself to the back of the sofa to keep upright and on top of him. You smiled so wide, so in love with him.

“You’re beautiful,” you said, and you meant it. You leaned down, and even though you knew it would mess up his lip gloss, you kissed him soft and gentle, cradling his jaw in your hands. He moaned against you, and when you pulled back, the flutter of his lashes made your breathe catch in your throat.

He really was beautiful – so pretty it made your heart ache. Maybe you would have to do his makeup more often – if only just so you could look at him all night.

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