#like those are my if-you-don’t-ship-this-at-least-a-little-i-don’t-trust-you ones you feel

[dragonsdendoodles]

I dunno if I’m just weird but nine times out of ten my favorite ship in something isn’t my OTP

Like take MPHFPC and PJO. My favorite ships are Enorace and Solangelo but they’re not my OTPs for either thing because if I have to pick one pairing to keep forever and all others are gone never to be seen again I’m picking Fugh and Percabeth every single time hands down you feel

Does anyone else do that or am I just taking the phrase “one true pairing” way too literally

[anystalker707]

a sweet reminder

Pairing: Luke Skywalker x [gender-neutral] Reader Summary: Spending a nice time with Luke after he's done working at the farm, and of course he's awfully sweet. Tags: clingy luke / he really wants to take care of you / lots of kisses

MASTER LIST

          Despite the usual high temperatures, the day felt exceptionally hot—the suns seemed to be taking out personal anger on Luke, making each step towards his home feel like torture, and he already knew he’d need some cream later tonight to deal with burning in the areas where the sunlight chastened his tanned skin. He furrowed his eyebrows, patting his clothes to get rid of the sand accumulated between the folds.

The droids wouldn’t do everything, so Luke still needed to carry those heavy buckets of water back home to refill the sprinklers. He tried to balance between no water spilled and the intense pain in his fingers to let buckets down on the ground as slowly as he could, and the pain lingered uncomfortably around his knuckles.

“Fuck,” Luke breathed as he opened and closed his hand a few times until the stiffness went away, or at least most of it. He sighed as he placed his hands on his hips, looking down, letting the breeze refresh the back of his neck before he moved to finish his task. He would be free for the last of the day, hopefully.

Luke’s thoughts were fuzzy already after so many hours under the suns, but he had done that enough times to trust himself on autopilot. He could name a handful of things—more, actually—he would rather be doing right now.

A long breath escaped his lips once he was done, and he tried his best to ignore the tingling in the back of his mind that told him it was only a matter of time before his uncle told him to do something else. He took a deep breath as he walked over to the kitchen, his body instinctively freezing when he heard his name being called, but hey, it wasn’t Uncle Owen.

“Luke,” the voice called again, and he stepped out to see you coming down the edge. A smile tugged on your lips when you finally saw him, sighing. “Wow, you look like you’ve been… smuggled by Jawas.”

“Oh,” Luke chuckled, shaking his head. “Just slaving away as usual,” he breathed, glancing behind him, but no one from his family was around. He wiped the sweat away from his brow with his forearm, and he shook his head again so that his strands would fall back into place.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just feeling a little too hot and cranky.” Luke scrunched his nose a little. Today’s weather seemed harsher than usual, and opposite to his wishes to stay home upgrading his ship, he had to work at the farm for longer than normal today.

You raised your eyebrows, nodding faintly. “I was gonna ask you to come grab a drink with me, but we don’t need to go anywhere if you don’t want to.”

Luke’s eyes followed your hand reaching out to brush his hair back into place, and he made sure to stand still while you did so. “Doesn’t sound bad at all,” he said. “Maybe we can have a couple of glasses of blue milk while we hang out in the garage. I was gonna tinker around with my stuff anyway.” He grabbed your hand, walking by the kitchen with you to grab the promised drink before you two could go sit on the couch in the garage. He always sat close, pressed to your side. “Ugh, what a day, I swear. Anything interesting happened while I was slaving away?”

“Stop being so dramatic,” you scoffed with an endearing smile. You enjoyed the refreshing sensation of the blue milk going down your throat, and the garage felt a lot nicer than being cooked under the suns outside. On the other hand, maybe it’d be colder than usual tonight. “And no, nothing interesting. I did hit my head on the edge of a ship while fixing it, though. I’m not sure if that’s interesting,” you chuckled, bringing a hand up to the sore spot on top of your head out of instinct.

Blue eyes observed you over the rim of the glass before Luke lowered it, licking his lips as his eyes roamed over you with clear concern, a crease forming between his eyebrows. A small sound came from him as he put his glass away. “Oh no, are you alright? Let me take a look.” He adjusted his position and placed your glass on the table as well, reaching out to touch your head. His fingertips gently traced the area where you’d hit with a delicate and soft touch. “Does this hurt?” He applied a little pressure.

“Ow,” you hissed at the unexpected pain, though it wasn’t too bad. You’d forget it hurt if nothing touched the area you’d hit. “Only a little sore.” 

“I don’t feel any bumps or swelling, but I think we should keep an eye on it, anyway,” Luke exhaled. “But that’s a relief. We don’t want you losing any more brain cells.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your head carefully, his hand descending to cup your cheek for a brief moment. Concern was evident in his eyes as they met yours, making your heart flutter in your chest. “I have a bacta spray. It should help. Do you want me to get it?”

You placed your hand on top of his to squeeze it reassuringly, letting it fall to your lap. “I’m fine, I swear. Maybe we should be more worried about your brain cells cooking in this heat, yeah?” You chuckled, running your thumb over Luke’s knuckles when his eyes widened, and you were sure his blushing would be apparent if it weren’t for his sun-kissed skin.

“H-Hey, my brain is just fine, thank you very much!” Luke’s attempt to sound indignant failed miserably with his embarrassment, and he bit his lip, glancing away. “It’s not like I’m hallucinating or anything.” His eyes softened when they met yours again, and he lifted his free hand, his fingertips grazing your cheek gently—he raised his eyebrows a little when you leaned into his touch. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He leaned in closer. “Maybe I should take another look, just to be safe.”

Part of you regretted telling Luke about the bump when concern laced his gaze once more—you thought he’d be more used to it, since you and him were always with a bruise or another from working on those ships or machines the whole time.

“It’s okay,” you insisted, catching his hand between yours before he could reach for your head again. “Trust me, Luke.” You squeezed his hand gently.

Luke exhaled. “Okay. If you’re sure.” He looked down at your joined hands before he leaned in, his nose brushing against yours. “But if it gets worse, you’ll tell me, right?” His wide, earnest eyes looked into yours, pleading, before he pressed his forehead to yours, both out of habit and out of worry. Clingy, as always. “I could kiss it better.” His breath fanned over your face. “If you want me to, I mean.” As if he hadn’t already.

“You’re such a sweetheart,” you mumbled, your eyelids instinctively hiding half of your irises when the distance between you diminished. “Why are you always doing this? Pressing your forehead to mine. Trying to read my thoughts?” You chuckled, and he couldn’t help but do the same.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Luke furrowed his eyebrows lightly. “It feels… nice. Comforting, I guess.” He bit his lip, his hand coming up to rest on your shoulder, near the base of your neck. “Don’t act like I’m being clingy.”

“Yeah, feels nice, I enjoy it too… But you’re very clingy all the time, in fact,” you whispered with a small smile, placing a hand on his waist instead, adjusting your position so that you could be closer to each other.

A soft scoff escaped his lips. “You’re the one who wouldn’t stop kissing me the last time,” he pointed out with a shy smile, and he quickly pulled one of your legs to hook over his. “Not that I’m complaining,” he mumbled in a quieter, embarrassed voice, but he didn’t move away. The closeness was exciting and terrifying all at the same time. “I really like it when you do that.”

You raised your eyebrows, feigning cluelessness, despite how your heart fluttered in your chest. “Me? I never even kissed you. Let alone kiss you nonstop.” You clicked your tongue.

Luke pulled away suddenly, making your head fall forward a little, and looked at you with a wide grin and disbelief. “What? But you did! Here in the garage, when we were working on the speeder.” He paused. “Trying to.”

“Did I?” You raised your eyebrows. “I don’t remember it, baby.”

His heart pounded in his chest, and his cheeks burned, not just because of being under the sunlight for hours before. With a dramatically heavy sigh, he leaned in again. “Maybe you should kiss me again, love.” He glanced at your lips. “Just to remind you.”

“Oh, so that’s your suggestion?” You asked, and Luke nodded, biting his lip. “‘M not sure about it,” you mumbled against his cheek, nuzzling it softly.

“Well, we should try, maybe it’ll remind you,” Luke chuckled softly, turning his head. His lips brushed against yours in a barely-there touch. It was more of a tease, but still managed to send a tingling down his spine. He cupped the side of your neck, his thumb under your jaw, leaning in, and finally kissed you properly. His lips finally met yours, his breath hitching. Luke loved the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips, and it made his head spin when you kissed him back just as lovingly. “Like this?”

“I don’t think I’ve remembered enough,” you said as soon as his lips broke away from yours.

Luke chuckled. “We’ll have to keep trying, then.” He pecked your lips. “Until you remember.” Despite the calloused skin, his hands gently cupped your face as he kissed you once more, needy lips pressing to yours in a longer, deeper kiss. His kisses were messy in the best way possible, oscillating between the need and shyness, refraining into more contained movements right after deepening it and getting lost on your lips, trying to get a grip of himself again. “Do you like this?” Luke’s lips grazed yours as he spoke.

“Mhm. So good.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, mirroring his smile. He couldn’t be close enough.

Something shifted in Luke’s gaze as he tilted his head; it was like you were the most precious thing in the whole universe. He kissed you again, letting it last longer, as his thumbs ran along your cheekbones. “You’re so good at this,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around your waist to hug you tightly while nuzzling your nose. “I love being close to you like this.”

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

[beartitled]

I think Normal Bill is almost just as intelligent and knowledgeable as his canon counterpart, since he had more time to focus on science and such instead of chaos and despair and.. just about every problem in the book.

Can he also still see through trees and The All Seeing Eye on the dollar bill?

Does he have all the powers of Canon Bill?

How does he feel about Ford and Dipper?

What would he think if he saw his parents?

And.. how does he feel about all the.. imagery of him throughout the world? (Remember how Ford had a fucking golden statue of him? And with the cave paintings.. and the dollar bill, the pyramids have a vague eye shape on them (since canonically they were statues of Bill until the top hat and hands fell off) The Eye Of Providence being a sign for God.. yeah it’s REALLY suspicious, I don’t think he really trusts the Pines family at this point, because they are horrible at hiding things, you don’t need to be an all seeing god to know that.

(Sorry for the long rant, I just love this AU)

Don’t apologise for a rant 🫵 I love rants, my brain just can’t comprehend them sometimes 💥

And also aww 🥹 glad you enjoy this AU ❤️

Okay lemme try answering 👏

First yes, absolutely, he’s a smart boi

His energy is just in the nerd stuff now, instead of chaotic insane vibes he has in the canon

Yea and I think he considers it normal lmao

“Wait what do you mean you don’t see through trees Mabel? Like.. I thought everyone did??”

He’s a smart boi, but he is oblivious in some instances

Not sure about all powers, but some for sure

Also this Bill walks everywhere, bc he never saw humans fly and didn’t consider trying (maybe he saw one human attempt it and decided to never try it himself 💀)

I honestly not really sure

Again not my initial idea, but remember one person saying that Bill would have some intrusive thoughts about Pines time to time, not understanding where they come from and probably feeling really guilty about those

But ultimately I think he would consider them a semi family to him

If y’all want a more detailed answer

He’s probably the closest to Mabel, bc she’s a forgiving person and treats Bill as a new person

This version of Bill would be in a girls squad and hang out with them during sleepovers (he’s a gossip girl come on 💅)

Dipper would still be cautious around Bill (as well as Ford), but would get used to him over time forming some sort of brotherly bond

Also Bill would ship Dipper and Pacifica, occasionally playing cupid for them during Dipper crushing on Wendy

He saw an opportunity to tease Dipper (and he said it would be a good enemies to lovers trope)

When people said “Stan would’ve taken that shot” yea, he would kill the child

But perhaps after seeing Mabel being buds with Bill, he just might be a little less defensive

It could both ways really: either Stan would be completely against Bill, but grow to tolerate his presence with occasional (semi)friendly bullying; or Stan would double down and just actively trying to kick Bill out

Either way they would have some sort of rivalry for sure

He would be buds with Soos and Wendy, just chilling with em on the occasion

And the last but not least Ford

He would be the most paranoid and cautious, not because he’s afraid of Bill like Dipper, but because Ford is afraid of “trigger the old Bill inside”

He and Dipper had an agreement to hide all possible information that could potentially remind Bill about his old self (all the Pines agreed to it too to some extent)

Were they successful in it? Who’s to say

Bill obliviousness saved em a bunch of times

And to address the elephant in the room: no, Billford does not exist in this AU

*booing can be heard across the fandom space* NO, YOU’RE NOT GETTING OLD MAN YAOI ON THIS ONE

🍅💥🐻‍❄️ *tiny bear screaming*

Anyway

I just don’t think it would be fitting in that particular scenario

Don’t get me wrong I like canon Billford (I love the memes and the fact that they are implied to be canon exes is hilarious), but canon Billford

This particular AU just makes the situation incredibly specific 💥

I tried to imagine a scenario where Billford could happen (like i dunno, they gave baby Bill to Oracle and then met his “normal” version)

But with the direction in which this AU went, I think it’s best to leave Ford and Bill with a platonic/parental relationship

To be fair it would be incredibly weird to raise your ex in a baby form 😭💥

But I never actually considered to continue this AU originally, so um 💥💥

I think Ford would just eventually start treating Bill like Mabel: he’s a new person now and to keep that new person undamaged, you need to keep a lot of information hidden (for everyone’s and Bill’s own sake)

This version of Bill and Ford would get along, bc they would both be nerds

(btw Bill’s design is similar to Ford, bc this is how nerds look 🤓💅/silly) (but you can adapt it in a way that Ford just had an influence on Bill, they have a family nerd look™️)

I’m still not sure what kind of time paradox shenanigans the went through to raise Bill tho 💥

This

Honestly I think it would be hilarious if he just thought it was some different guy

“A triangle… with one eye… what if.. naaaah I don’t have a top-hat”

Anyway thank u for the ask ❤️ hope it was fun to read through💥

[tacharie]

Thoughts for The Montkraken Episode

so, I just finished the chapter and… wow I have a lot to say. I took screen shots for every part I wanted to talk about and I think this rant will be SUPERRRR long so bear with me. Tumblr won’t let me add screenshots so when I have better service I’ll edit the post to add them. These paragraphs are theories and side notes that I wrote after reading a certain section so you’re gonna see my thought process throughout the story. As always, spoilers ahead so I recommend skipping this if you haven’t read it already.

Alright so I was once a hater of this ship BUT… the Shobaru shippers may have a point in this guys 😭. LIKE.. I HAVE THE SCREENSHOT OF SUBARU BLUSHING UHHH. That is not a heterosexual stare feller 🤨…

AHHHHHHH THE FROSTHEIM DUO ARE BACKKKKK!!! I missed them so so much they’re so silly and deserve the best. Honestly the only two I trust in this school cause I CANT. I literally suspect anyone but them, but Imma be so disappointed if either of them are hiding something. I’ll be sad, but like I’ll help 🙄. I was actually so sad when the MC mentioned being the reason they could be in danger like GIRLLLLL DONT SAY THAT PLEASEEEEE. ITS LIKE THE ANGST WITH ADEUCE AND YUU LIKE STAWPOPP. Also when the Vagastorm kids were like “aw yeah Mido wouldn’t lie like that” it makes me happy that people can at least trust him enough to be honest and idk I found that kinda sweet :3. We’re also getting a bit of a timeline, like the One-Eyed Sleeping Beauty Murder being BEFORE the clash (sorry if this was already mentioned I don’t really remember stuff from the past chapters) which could’ve been a trigger.

Also, I feel like they’re trying to tell us that Jiro is Zenji’s brother because when he had that little laugh about the MC being scared of bodies, he said too. When you click the “too?” option, he just says that he isn’t the one afraid. It’s not Yuri as well cause he’s literally a doctor that is in the same room when autopsies are in session. Whatever the case, I assume he was referencing to Zenji, though it being a blurry memory. Little theory tho.

OK SO THIS IS JUST SO FUNNY TO ME. In Chapter 9’s title it says, “Girl Learns Shocking Truth About Monster”. I like to think the shocking truth was the fact he didn’t shower for 3 days 😭. CAUSE THATS THE PART SHE SOUNDS MOST SHOCKED. Idk that part was silly to me. THEY’RE OUTFITS FOR THEIR DORM IS SOOOOOO PRETTY. They ate I fear, a bit more than the other dorms. Also side note, they dropped A LOT of info with just how they word things. For example, Yuri saying “Jiro, you are well aware that I will not be associated with those germs AGAIN.” Soooo Yuri was in Frostheim? I don’t doubt it bc there’s another line that says “I’d rather not recall how bitterly cold that place is” which can MEAN TWO THINGS. I’m super sure that they’re implying that yeah, he was, but then something happened blah blah blah.

WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON WITH HYDE AND DANTE??? Like ok bitches, spill your shot to us too don’t be shy. So, confirmed by them, Dante and Hyde used to go to school in Darkwick (which I assume the rest of the teachers are too). That explains their back and forth. WHAT REALLY CAUGHT MY EYE WERE THESE LINES.

Hyde: “…You really are a softie, Dan-Dan.” (Haha Dan- Dan)

Dante: “It would seem that way to someone as cold as you.” (???) “…There are lines that shouldn’t be crossed, Hyde.”

Hyde: “…I’ll keep that in mind.”

WHATTTTT. WHAT ARE THE LINES. GO IN DETAIL ARGHHHHH. This gives us more info on the character individually too. Dante describes Hyde as cold… DANTE. So, it was obvious that this whole happy go lucky attitude was fake, but I expected to be more like Haru’s kind of attitude not like that yk?? now I know how much of a cash grab this game is, but I really hope they aren’t going to stretch the story out too long to the point where you have to P2W cause I haven’t paid a cent and I don’t plan to. I still want to learn more about them and stuff so :(. On the topic of Dante, there was a small flashback where I missed a word in the sentence that Dante said while talking with Alan. “I’m the man you supposedly killed.” Supposedly?? Now, I didn’t my catch this in my first run, but now it’s like wdym supposedly?? Shouldn’t you know? This is giving hella Jiro vibes and honestly, I’m getting sick and tired of these characters having a bad memory.

SPEAKING OF JIRO- he seems to have problems remembering things and they come back to him in the very weird moments (honestly a kin moment). I would like the think that he’s just suffering from the damages he had to go through from the clash. His relationship with Yuri is so… sad to me. Yuri seems to doubt him a little bit and I feel like he sees him as just a specimen, not much of a friend. Meanwhile, Jiro smiles a lot to Yuri and listens to him like a master, like that’s what he’s supposed to do. NOT AGAINST HIS OWN WILL DONT GET ME WRONG. He’s just so neutral about it it makes me a bit like awwww :(. They’re cute tho idrc.

Ok moving on to Haku and Tohma. (Ok at this point I’m getting nervous cause why are we seeing so many characters now. That’s probably just a coincidence). OK THESE TWO HAVE GOT IT GOING. Like there’s tension when you get their chat in the campus but this is like woahhhh… Also I don’t like how Tohma says “our wheelhouse? I see..” it makes me think he’s like implying “so you think you’re a part of them now?” IDK THATS JUST MY LITTLE STRETCH. Also poor Zenji, he’s like “aw yeah I died in vain lol” LIKE OUCH.

Nicholas. I DO NOT LIKE HIM. I REPEAT. I DO NOT LIKE HIM FOR A MINUTE OF A SECOND. The only staff I like are the cats, the grocer guy, and MAYBE Dante. LIKE HES SO… NORMAL?? LIKE THERE’S SOMETHING WEIRD GOING ON IK THERE IS. When MC says “I can’t believe Professor Nicolas would do something like that” I DO 😡🙋‍♀️. I am in full support of Yuri finding crimes against this guy.

Also, little other side note, I just realized that Yuri and Jiro have matching earring in opposite ears. It’s so cute.

Ok I might have to go back to the beginning and see what the “goat like anomaly” Jiro is talking about when he mentions the prophecy, cause I said “… the chancellor is a goat??” BUT ANYWAYS. Speaking of the prophecy, I’ll jot it down.

“The whisper of the new moon shall lead the champion to the academy on the solitary island. So long as the champion resides there, the world shall be sheltered from profound tragedy.”

Stating the obvious here, but this is most likely referencing to the last cutscenes we get when we choose our characters. I’ve checked the cutscenes again and there’s no visible moon, meaning it could correlate to the “new moon” portion. (Search up new moon to see what I mean). Assuming Solitary island means death, that would also help with the theory. So, whoever we chose in the beginning might just be the person who won the Laurel Crown.Honestly, this is just a silly little Drabble for a theory and VERY vague. Maybe the champion resides in the events of the past that we still don’t know about but this kinda helps?? Idk I’m just putting what I think at the moment. I’ll probably reread the game so I can get a better timeline. Also, Yuri’s rant about demon particles… doesn’t exactly sit right with me. Were they chosen to be resilient or was it just a birth thing?? Idk but I feel like a lot is missing from his theory. I mean, we’re using human logic to a supernatural cause so I don’t think pacts acting as allergies would work. If they’re not chosen, could it be that the ghouls can make pacts with more than one demon? I wanna see what happens if that was the case. Please comment if I missed something 😭.

Ok Towa appeared. (Why are we seeing so many characters I don’t like this) and we went back to that tree… WHAT IS THAT TREE?? And what the hell do you mean the fruit grew? What is that fruit supposed to be? An anomaly going to birth?? Is it supposed to represent the houses?? Motivation?? It seems so weird to me cause we just got introduced to that tree last episode. Sighs.

OK REN AND RITSU. WHAT IS GOING ON. I GUESS SINCE THIS IS THE LADT CHAPTER FOR INTRODUCING CHARACTERS BUT LIKE … STOP. I feel like something is going to happen with the MC pls 😭. Anyway, those two talking about ramen is so cute please don’t ever change you virgin and lizard looking freak 🫶( with love of course). GROCER GUYYYYYYY. YIPPEE :3!! I love that the cat is the owner and not the human lmao.

Also I will always be a MC defender cause she is so relatable. “Why are hospitals so creepy at night?” GIRL IKKKKKK. Idc what y’all say, the fact that she’s normal is keeping me sane from these freaky deaky events. ILOVE NORMAL CHARACTERS! LIKE MATSUDA FROM DEATH NOTE OR THAT ONE GUY FROM MASHELE. Anyways, I love her little comments and everything she’s so silly. Idrc if she doesn’t have much of a backbone cause honestly, she’s surrounded by danger so the best she should do is listen to the people that are constantly surrounded by it.

ALSO NEW THING. (Well idk if it’s new but yeah).

mention of a Dionysia Breakout. <—— Idk what that is, but it sounds like a little more. I love little details and slip ups thanks characters <3!!

HA! HAHAHHAHAHAHHAHA! I WIN NICOLAS 😈!!! YOU DO HAVE SOMETHING TO HIDE. AND I WILL FIND IT TRUST YOU WILL BE DELT WITH. I WILL KNOW THE PRIOR PAST >:(!! Also, Moby is being soooo annoying tbh. More character descriptions to add: competitive as a teacher. NO ONE WILL MAKE YOU HATE YOU JIRO ‼️‼️‼️ HES SO SWEET He literally asks if we’re scared and says we can hang back awwww. Though he doesn’t understand much, he can use logic and he can at least understand how we feel. It’s a nice sentiment :)!

I can’t take the transformation seriously I’m sorry. I’m still impressed by Yuri’s deductive skills and the transformation just sounded like he was constipated.

THE WHOLE BATTLE SCENE WAS EPIC!! MC HESITATING BECAUSE OF LEOS WORDS BUT STILL PUSHING FORWARD. YURI GETTING FLUSTERED. JIRO SMILING AND TRUSTING YURI’S ORDERS. THE FUNNY EXCHANGE ABOUT MUSCLE WHEN THEY WERE CARRYING THE POD. Those annoying ass pussy sticks we call Darkwick students 😡. JIRO LOOKING BADASS AFTER THE SHOT. URGHHHH I LOVE THIS CHAPTER.

HARU AND PEEKABOOOOO!! AHHHHH IM SO HAPPY I SEE THEM AGAIN!! I’m so glad he’s going to Hyde too cause I’m not ready. Also… the mermaid thing is so weird. For the Montkraken Mermaid, they seem to refer to it as “it” or “that mermaid”, but when they speak of the second mermaid, they use personal pronouns like “he /him”. Haru’s expression as well when he heard someone was abusing mermaid flesh… it’s a new one with a little crease under his eye. It’s such a sad face like, did he know this mermaid personally or was this fear?? Either way, I wanna meet him cause the other one was so pretty.

…You guys know the “I see who you are… you are my enemy” sound that’s on TikTok or reels or wtv? YEAH THATS SONG WAS PLAYING IN MY HEAD WHEN HYDE SAID WE HAD TO DO A SPEECH. HYDE IM IN YOUR WALLS. URGHHHH I HATE HIMMMMM. Call to action my ass IK either Taiga or Leo are gonna get their asses out of the door after the speech. OR BOTH. I’m starting to tweak.

NOOOOO THE SPEECH IS THE NEXT CHAPTER?? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

I feel so bad for Zenji… like I’m so deadass. Dude he sounds so sad about how he’s dead it’s so.. URGHHHH. ALSO I CALLED IT. THEY ARE BROTHERS. AHAHHAHA!! Well it was kinda obvious cause everyone thought it too but WOMP WOMP. Also I love his real name, Taro Kirisaki. It’s pretty :)!! But these lines killed me

“and though I have taken my final blow, my brotherly heart can’t help but worry for my kin. … Not that he has any idea I’m still around.” YEOUCH?? I DIDNT COME TO CRY BRO…

I’m tweaking out because of this speech bro. I’m gonna choose the corniest stuff and hope for the best. “I feel bad please stop for me 🥺” headass.

Taiga is officially my enemy as well. I called that shit about him leaving URGH. WHAT A FLIBBERTYJIBBET!! His outfit eats tho so it balances out. LIKE DAMNNNN. HE LOOKS SO GOOD.

DOUBLE?? TRIPLE??? QUINTUPLE???? HELL I MIGHT BECOME A GHOUL TO GET THAT MONEY GOLLY 😍😍😍!! CAUSE IN THIS ECONOMY??Also thanks Jin you a real one twin. Bouta split this cash with my wife and I’ll send you a wedding invite.

EDWARD. ED PLEASE. STOP PUTTING ME IN THE SPOTLIGHT… well it’s out now so woopy!! I really wonder what the others have to say about that cause they just gave really vague surprised reactions. Well, Ritsu documented it. I love that little guy please don’t ever change you silly.

NUMBER ONE CORNELIUS HATER IDC. Unless I know your intentions I DONT CAREEEEE. YOU ARE AN OPP IT IS ON SIGHT WITH YOU. SAME WITH YOU NICOLAS!! “I didn’t know whether to tell you or not I’m sowwy 🥺” CHUPA MI PITO HOE 😡.

… you’re telling me I didn’t have to do that awful speech because DANTE AGREED?? IM DONE. IM WHOOPING EVERYONE IN THE ROOM AND AURING THE PLACE OUT. FIRST ONES OUT ARE HYDE FOR NOT TELLING ME, NICOLAS, AND CORNELIUS. ARGHHHHHHH. Also, dude, who is that Janitor guy like seriously.

ROMEO??? AND HYDE???? WHAT IS THIS ABOUT BUTTERCUP?? Wdym worked for him?? What is going on… SPECIAL MISSION??? SHO??? OH NAW. I CANT TRUST NOBODY ANYMORE 😭

Towa crying :(. What does the fruit shrinking have to do with it now?? I’m so confused.

ALRIGHT IF YOU MADE IT TO THE END WOW YOU HAVE DEDICATION. Yeah this is my personal yap session to this chapter and it’s so URGH. I’m so excited to see the next chapter and I hope we get to see more and more. Now with the Gala in place, we can finally start WORKING. Based on the timeline, we have about … 8 months left?? So hopefully, for MC’s sake, she gets cured. BYE BYE UNTIL NEXT EPISODE!!

[ratwife77]

Height Headcanons

The Outsiders

(These are all during the book)

Pony- solid 5’5- I honestly forgot how his height is described minus being taller than Johnny.. so I think he’d be just average ish for his age

Soda- 5’9 is average ish so.. he’s what girls expect? He’s standard? But he does give a shorter vibe which is why he’s not taller

Darry- 6’2 do I need to explain?

Two-Bit: 5’11 he’s just lanky I can’t see him as being short

Dallas- 5’10 I feel like he’s sort of lean but not too tall, just above average.. intimidating presence but not a wall like Darry and not quite Two-Bit’s height

Steve- 5’7 he should be shorter but I think he should at least be taller than Pony.. give him that

Johnny- 5’4 he would have had some more growing to do, but he’d always be below average

Tim- 5’11 intimidating, sort of lean but more wall-like than Dallas.

Curly- 5’6 he has more growing to do, but not a lot.. he is pissed about his height ngl

Angela- 5’2 I don’t think she’d be above average

Cherry- 5’5 I think she’d be taller because she’d wear heels often but this is her actual height

Marcia- 5’7 she gives either short or tall vibes but I don’t like huge height differences for ships.. I’m sorry but I do ship Marbit on the side and 4 inches is enough..

Bob- 6’0 I think it’s important for the story- he needs to really look over both Johnny and Ponyboy, but I also want Darry to be a greater presence (to those against him anyway) so that’s why he’s shorter than him.

Randy- 5’11, similar build to Two-Bit, lanky

Sylvia- 5’9 no question.. just trust me I know she told me

Evie- 5’1 someone had to be my height okay

Sandy- 5’4 she, like Soda, is good looking so I think she should be about average so she’s perceived as the standard

Tex (please let there be someone who cares about Tex lol)

Tex- 5’6 I imagine him to have a sturdy, decent build like Pony, but be a little taller, maybe just a little muscular- he’s not in peak form but he’s well off

Mason- he was in basketball.. 6’1.. he’s slim but lean and able to kick butt

Johnny- 5’7, him and Tex are of similar build.. if they grew up together and are still friends, I’d like to represent them growing together metaphorically and literally

Jamie- 5’6 1/2, she’s gotta be taller than Tex I feel it in my bones.. but her brother is taller than her

Cole- 6’2 built like a brick wall- I want him to be taller than Mason because it’s kind of who he wants to be, literally looking up to him(at least I think, I don’t remember everything)

Robert- tbh I forgot who he was mostly.. I’m so sorry but I think he’d be 5’10

Pop- 5’10 this has a purpose. Mason is quite literally growing past him, resenting him for not living his other son, while during most of the book, Tex is stuck looking up to him

Lem.. nobody likes you but here- 5’9 just your average absolute slimeball (nobody likes Pop either I just forgot to put that because I got off on a ramble about symbolism through height..)

Mrs. Johnson- 5’7 (with heels nobody knows her real height), kind of an adult that is helpful to Tex so she’s taller than him.. you get what I’m saying, sort of like Pop

I had to look on the wiki to remember everyone, hopefully that’s everyone who’s important

Rumble Fish (I have a bad memory.. hopefully all the details are right)

Motorcycle Boy- everything hinges on his height, because everyone looks up to him. 6’3 final height (taller than Darry.. more separate from his world.. away from others.. you get it)

Rusty James- he grows to be as tall as Motorcycle Boy, emphasizing his ‘becoming’ him.. but during the book- main events anyway, he’s 5’7, tall for his age

Steve- 5’3 he’s short, sort of removed from Rusty, different

Patty- 5’5

Smokey- sort of under the radar and clever, so I’ll put him at 5’5 ‘under’ Rusty.. hopefully that makes sense

Biff- 5’11

B.J.- he’s probably like 5’6, above Smokey because he’s loyal, not low to the ground like a snake (I’m not making fun of short people I am one it’s just for metaphorical purposes)

Mr. James- sort of different like Motorcycle Boy, keeps up better than Rusty James if I remember correctly.. 5’10, closer to him

Mrs. James- idk I don’t remember but let’s say 5’7

Just noticed the error with Mrs. James- please ignore the pictured height for her

[lavandula-ipsum]

The rain will hide us

gif by @tatooineknights

Summary: Stranded on an unkown planet, you've fallen sick. Thankfully, Luke is there with you. However, you might not be the only one in need of care.

Wordcount: 2.3k

Tags: Luke Skywalker x GN!Reader, force sensitive reader, comfort, fluff, mentions of injuries, one-shot. Angst somehow got in.

The paleness of the morning starts to filtrate through the tent, drawing the dark little spots left by quiet raindrops. Their clatter serves as a gentle wake up call while, outside, an unexplored jungle sleeps.

“How are you feeling?” Before you can even shift in your sleeping bag, Luke has already turned his attention to you, lying a kind hand on your shoulder. For a second, you miss the times when you could have just watched him for a couple of minutes before choosing to signal that you’re awake.

Truth is you feel like shit. A trash compactor could have chewed and spit you out while you were unconscious for all you know. At the effort of answering his question, a raspy whine leaves your sore throat. “Better.”

He’s sitting next to you, not very convinced. There’s urgency tingling the tips of his fingers, you can feel it through the Force. “Is it okay if I check?”

An almost imperceptible shivery note haunts his voice. In the dark circles under his eyes you can sense a long and rough night. You nod. Even though you can feel the last remnants of sickness haven't completely faded from your exhausted body, the back of his hand is warm against your burning cheek and forehead. With an alleviated sigh, Luke finally lets his hand slide down your arm.

“You still have a fever, but it isn’t as high anymore.”

“What happened?”

“Do you remember the crash?”

“A little. I remember the battle, the evacuation when the ship went down.” The mission you embarked on seems to have failed spectacularly. You try to sweep away the thoughts of your fallen comrades, at least till you get back and get to know for sure how many of them are actually gone. “We got into the same escape pod and… this atmosphere messed with the navigation systems, I guess.” You grumble, rubbing the side of your head. “Why don’t I remember much after that?”

“You were trapped in the wreckage for a few minutes. I couldn’t take you out earlier. (Y/N), I’m so sorry. You got some cuts and superficial burns. Perhaps a broken rib.” Oh, so that’s what the bandages are for. And probably why you’ve been stripped down to your standard issue underwear. Suddenly, Luke avoids your gaze and an uncomfortable ripple flutters through the Force, but you’re too distracted frowning at the new scratch across his cheek.

“Did you get hurt?”

“No, I’m fine. But you… You were feverish the whole night.” He continues, bringing the med kit closer to show you a box of painkillers, an empty stim canister, an open tube of pomade, anxious to let you know everything he gave you while you were unconscious.

“It’s ok.” You set your hand over his to stop his nervous tinkering through the med kit. “I trust you, Luke. How many times have we done this? Tell me, what happened next?”

He licks his lips, then looks down at his hands. “You became really sick.”

“I’m sorry. I must have scared you. This is all my fault.” You groan before he can start giving you a thousand reasons why it isn’t. “It really is. I knew I was already sick before the mission. It was just a cold two days ago, but I guess it made me more vulnerable to whatever I caught here.”

Luke shifts closer to you, suddenly alarmed. “Why did you come to this mission then? Why didn’t you say anything?”

You remember those agonizing moments when he didn’t show up at the rendezvous point after the battle of Hoth, gone to Force knows where, while you were left alone wondering if he’d been killed. Turns out he’d just left on his own. It’s not as if he owed you any explanation, you were merely friends. He's fated to go out there and do things so far greater than anything having to do with you. So you tried to slap yourself out of this silly anxiety. After all, the others were gone with the Falcon too, and you had to resign yourself to the faith that they'd be alright. 

And then Luke came back, his body battered and his spirit broken worse than you’d ever seen before or since.

Shyly, you slide your fingers out of your cover. He quickly holds them in between his palms. You’re sure the sky outside the tent would pale in comparison with the intensity of his tired gaze right now, glassy and blue. And yet, all you manage to conjure in response is a lie.

“I wanted to feel useful. The Rebellion needs all the hands it can get.” 

If he realizes, he doesn’t say anything. He just leans in to warm your cold hand with his breath. Luke might not be a full Jedi just yet, but he can probably sense how tired you are of this game of claiming guilt for everything, of just rambling around the edges of what neither of you feel brave enough to say. He just knows you that inescapably well.

For now, the tent has become quiet, so quiet you can even hear him swallow. After a second of allowing yourself to stare at the muscles of his neck tense up and relax with the motion, you look down and sink your flaming face into the sleeping bag.

Against his advice, you sit up. The chill bites your exposed skin, setting a feverish tremor within your chest. However, you don’t let him make you settle back into the bedding.

“Can I say something without it turning into another exchange of apologies?” you ask. Noticing your sudden eagerness, he nods. However, his hands remain close, as if you were about to collapse. “Thank you for saving my life. Truly.”

He seems about to reply with some excuse, probably minimizing himself once again, but you raise a warning finger along with a threatening expression. It makes him laugh, brighter than he’s laughed in months. It lasts too little for your taste, but at least the smile lingers on his face.

“Ok, you win this one. Now, that pomade needs to be reapplied.”

After taking a panicked second to realize what he’s asking, you turn slightly so he can get better access to the burn, which covers the back of your shoulder and part of your right arm. Luke scooches closer till you’re basically sitting between his legs. You wonder if he notices his warmth setting you aflame, but he seems too busy readying the ointment to even look at you, his eyes half hidden under soft locks of weathered gold. However, a loaded silence falls in the tent, during which you feel the urge to cover your front with the sleeping bag. 

“It’s gonna feel a little cold,” he warns before touching you, his voice barely audible.

You had already made up your mind to behave and not show any sign of discomfort, but you need to turn away to hide your face. Honestly, you’re not sure if it’s the painkillers or the surreal ambience around you, but you swear you’ve never been treated by gentler hands. As they work to spread the medicine, you hold yourself together barely enough to not just let go and plop yourself on his lap. You feel beyond beaten, and over your head a thick cloud keeps your judgment in a state of relaxed lethargy. Truth is his welcoming stance, along with the way his fingers caress your tender skin as he softly talks you through the process, isn’t helping your already lazy resolve.  

“I’m so glad, it doesn’t seem like it got infected. I think there’s a chance it won’t leave a scar once we can get you proper treatment back in the fleet.”

You hum half heartedly in response, doing your best to join in the effort to evade the silence instead of entertaining the thought that you don’t actually want to go back. Because he wouldn’t be with you then. Luke has been avoiding the fleet since Bespin, and you've made up your mind to follow him for as long as he wants you around.

“Have you been awake the whole night? Meditating?”

“Not meditating. Standing guard.”

When he finishes up your new bandages, you hear the rustling of knots coming undone and, right after, you’re covered with Luke’s outer robe. Apparently, your top had to be cut off your body when he first tended to your wounds. As he helps drape the garment around your shoulders and slide your arms into the sleeves careful to not graze your wounds, the warmth it still bears surrounds you. Ah, it smells like him too. 

Luke seems ready to offer an excuse to quiet your concerns over his lack of sleep, but it fizzles out before your demanding frown. A pained flare crosses behind his eyes as his Force signature heats up around you. He doesn’t mean to leave you out of his thoughts, he truly doesn’t. It’s just that lately they’ve been a mess not even he has felt ready to untangle. And, if he’s not ready to talk, you won’t push him. However, this silence is a little needle to your heart, and the jab reaches him when it becomes too painful for you to hide.

“I tried to meditate until I had to give up. I couldn’t find the peace for it. You were trembling and twisting in your sleep, burning with fever… mumbling things.”

“Were they embarrassing?” you joke, trying to lift the mood a little. However, instead of following you down that path, you feel a little tug. He’s lightly pulling at the edge of your sleeve, well, his.

“Don’t leave me. Please, stay.”

The pressure around your wrist makes it sound like an apology. Why? For letting you fall sick? For leaving you behind and going to Dagobah on his own? You’re getting tired of riddles, and you’re already trembling from the effort of sitting up straight. Your hand lands on his shoulder, a gesture that seems to finally break him out of his spiraling thoughts and look at you.

“And you did. You stayed.”

An exhalation later, you’re buried in his chest. It’s hard to tell who initiated the hug when you’re enthralled by how melting into each other makes everything else melt away. Luke’s hands travel down your hair, and you wonder when taking in this soothing became as easy as breathing. Well, not exactly. There needs to be a spell, a certain quietness to the air like the one flooding the tent right now. Melancholy is usually the trigger, the signature to the wordless contract between the two of you that grants you permission to indulge in this kind of comfort. Later you’d usually dream awake about it, lost in the memory of what feels forbidden during the daylight. It aches a little that at least one of you needs to be in some kind of pain to feel allowed this kind of intimacy. 

A sigh brushes against your ear as Luke barely dares to talk in a whisper. “What if I can’t do this?” 

“Don’t worry, the Rebellion knows we’re here, we’ll be out of here in no time…”

“Not that. It’s about-” The words get lost as they’re spilled from his lips. Luke lets out a shaky breath before sinking deeper into your hair. “Everything.”

“It’s okay. I understand.”

“You always do.” 

“And listen, I truly believe there’s a special path ahead of you. A bright one. However, no matter what happens, even if things go wrong, I’ll be here. I mean- we all will. We’ll love you all the same.”

You nuzzle up closer against him, prompting a pleased sigh out of him. 

“I’ve been leaning on you too much.”

You chuckle, “how so? You just saved me in, like, five different ways just during the last twelve hours.”

“What you do is way more difficult.”

A hand cradles your head close to his chest, while his other arm surrounds you. And, as the silence settles once again, you finally feel him relax around you as your hands travel up his back. Through his thin inner tunic, the heartbeat pressed against your cheek allows itself to slow down a little. 

“You take a nap now. I’ll keep watch.”

“You’re hurt,” he complains. “And sick.”

“I’ll have a blaster at hand and wake you up as soon as I hear anything outside, I swear.” You hush him before he can complain. “Do I need you to remind you of your instruction, commander? If you don’t rest you’ll compromise the mission.”

“And what mission is that?”

“Get back to base, safe and sound. And stick together until then.”

Luke brushes your cheek with his thumb, as if to check again if your fever has gone down enough to leave the task to you. “Yeah, I might be able to do that.”

So you get back in the sleeping bag so as to not get cold, and he lays down over it next to you. He does so a bit skittish at first, so you interlock his fingers with yours and guide him down to the most comfortable spot, next to you. Soon, exhaustion defeats any remaining fear and Luke feels brave enough to wrap an arm around you. Soon, sleep has taken him.With your heart coming to a halt, you finally dare to take in his features. Even though a shadow of worry still darkens his brow, his features look softer than you’ve seen lately. It takes you back to those early days in the Rebellion when you weren’t nearly as close, but talking seemed easier. So you stay awake, treasuring every deep breath and the faint rainfall in the background, until the distant buzz of the Millennium Falcon fades the spell away.

link to the source gifset

[erisweekofficial]

Another week done! Tonight let's unwind by giving @ceoofyearning all our love 🧡

Check out her Mafia AU fic half algorithm, half deity! It's the perfet combo of smutty and angsty. We're taking notes over here!!

Read on to learn more about Mira's thought's on the Vanserras and what reality show Eris is participating in 👀

What drew you to Eris x OC as opposed to other Eris ships?

The main appeal of Eris x OC/Reader, for me at least, is the creative freedom. With an OC, I can explore different character dynamics and backstories without the constraint of lore or fan expectations. Also, I’m still new to the fandom, and I get a bit anxious about whether I’m interpreting the characters well. Character x OC is closer to my comfort zone and the immersive quality of these stories is a fun little bonus. But I’m also a fan of other ships with Eris, particularly Azris and Neris! I’d definitely love to write for these ships in the future.

How do you interpret Eris's relationships with his family?

There is still a lot we don’t know about Eris and much of his relationship with his family has been left as subtext. I’m definitely no expert and this is just my personal interpretation of their dynamic. I imagine living in that household is a constant balancing act. Beron has been cast in a cruel light, and I suspect he would be an even crueler father. He’s uncompromising, unforgiving, and the only traits he tolerates in his children are those that mirror his own. Eris resents him and fears him, but his father’s approval and being indispensable to Beron are necessary for continued survival. In a culture where sibling rivalry is encouraged and fratricide is expected, it would be near impossible for Eris to build a deep and meaningful relationship with his siblings. Whether they’ve inherited their father’s sadistic tendencies or are just reluctant participants, these siblings can never truly trust each other. They’re all in survival mode. I don’t believe that Eris would hurt any of his siblings unprovoked, but as the eldest living son and prospective heir, he has to maintain their respect - even if that means keeping them at arm's length and constantly keeping himself in check. Despite all that, I suspect Eris has a soft spot for his mother and Lucien. He would try to protect them in his subtle way.

What inspired you to tackle a Mafia AU featuring Eris?

I've always been a big fan of AUs since it gives us a chance to explore our favorite characters outside canon. I feel like Eris, with his cunning and moral ambiguity, would be fun to see in the dark and cutthroat world of a Mafia AU.

If you could cast Eris on a reality tv show, which one would it be and why?

I want to see Eris and Az or Eris and Nesta in The Amazing Race. They’d either beat everyone in record time or end up at each other's throats.

[anartisticdreamer0]

just throwing some 2 cents in here, don’t buy the egg figurines until we know that money is going to support at least the admins that brought those characters to life.

(it shouldn’t be just them, it’s likely those things will be around $25 usd each (and those prices might be way higher with shipping), those profits should be used to pay actors, builders, artists, writers, etc.)

this is like the one thing we as a community can actually do to show our solidarity with those workers. demand that they get some kind of compensation and information about what the fuck is going on, or we won’t buy the merch. simple. be like “we won’t financially support this project, if you don’t compensate and inform the workers past or current.”

like imagine seeing a character that you gave your everything into. that you spent hours constructing. that you didn’t sleep so that you could develop them. turned into a piece of merch that you don’t see a cent of the revenue of nor did you even get paid to play. like that’s worse than actors. at least they get some type of pay while they’re acting.

but yeah, trust me, i want those little guys too. in fact my first reaction was “OH MY GOD LET ME THROW MONEY AT THIS” but we shouldn’t. with the current situation, it just feels wrong. ya know?

[ryuichirou]

Replies

Slowly but surely replying to older asks. I say it every time but I mean it: thank you for being patient.

One ask about Shroudcest and one ask about Rookvil today!

Anonymous asked:

Imagine imagine imagine.

Cause this is funny to me.

Someone's flirting with Idia, yeah? (or just talking to him, not even flirting) (well, I guess it'd be a one sided conversation....)

And Ortho was off doing whatever and he comes back and he notices-

And he gets all angry and whatnot-

And Ortho's got instant connections to the internet-

And he figures out who the person is and basically destroys their social life.

Like, in the middle of this conversation, this person checks their phone and finds out all their friends have ditched them and their entire online life is up in flames.

Simply because Ortho got a little jealous.

Anon, this is so unbelievably easy to imagine lol Despite Ortho really wanting his precious Idia to have more friends and connections, he is much more jealous than he thought! And much more of a little shit than people think… We really love this kind of scenario for them, to be honest.

Ortho is way too powerful for how emotionally unstable he is! Rogue little yandere robot :( His niisan is his and his only! That poor guy probably just wanted to talk about homework or something trivial like that…

Anonymous asked:

the rook hate be crazy, sorry for the nonsense you’ve been dealing with for doing nothing wrong. anyway rookvil appreciation hours. rook is so observant and reverent that he’s always looking out for his queen and vil is just a bit tsun lol but i love how vulnerable vil is with rook. like the lines implying vil has cried in front of rook before, that they sleep in the same bed, rook knows vil’s family situation, vil commenting on rook’s thighs in beanfest implicitly meaning he spends a lot of time looking at them lol, rook has access to vil’s room and waits for vil… as much as i love savanaclaw rook and mourn his loss everyday, he willingly changed himself to be worthy of being by vil’s side via his own free will; vil did not MAKE him do anything they just talked a lot. my mans is more whipped than heavy cream. idk about you but rook mentions he struggled to feel or express emotions before he knew about theater (specifically neige but let’s ignore that for vil’s sanity lol) so it feels significant that rook obviously feels and emotes so strongly over vil (also something something ortho struggles to feel or express himself before movies and acting so what i’m getting at here is they should spitroast vil at least once lmao.) if it was revealed they’re canonically dating the only part i’d be surprised about is that it got through disney’s censors.

It’s okay, Anon. The whole thing kind of made us appreciate Rook and RookVil more, to be honest lol I sketched them for a couple of days nonstop after that whole thing happened.

It also made you write this ask! It took me some time to reply, but every time I was rereading it I smiled because god this is such a good ship. Everything that you’ve listed is just so… wonderful. All those interactions, all this connection, all those moments that imply their closeness that is on a much deeper level than we get to see. Sometimes when these two talk, it feels like we’re eavesdropping lol they just have this vibe to them, as if every dialogue has some additional context that we don’t quite get.

Vil’s comment about Rook’s thighs and him bulking up though lol poor Epel didn’t know what to make of it and probably didn’t want to think about it…

You’ve made such a good point about Vil being more vulnerable with Rook, and I think this vulnerability is very important. Vil feels like someone who probably doesn’t usually allow people to get very close to him, but once he lowers his guard for someone, that person becomes very special to him. Or I guess it’s the other way around… anyways, he trusts Rook enough to always have him by his side, and he probably vents his frustrations with the industry and anything else that troubles him to Rook the most.

And this trust isn’t one-sided: I feel like Rook trusts Vil a lot too. We know that he has a lot of secrets, and even Vil probably doesn’t know a whole lot about his upbringing and stuff, but he certainly knows more than other people + listens carefully enough to understand implications without prying into it too much. They give each other enough space in general, I guess? I know it sounds funny considering Rook’s whole stalking thing but lol their connection is special. They learn from each other and from what they have together.

It makes sense that one person that Vil trusts so much and loves so much is a weird theater nerd who doesn’t quite understand tact, but is very honest, supportive and genuinely passionate and loving. It makes sense that one person that Rook trusts so much and loves so much is an obsessive perfectionist that takes care of him, enables him and inspires him every day. Both of them are kind of insufferable, but they are the perfect type of “insufferable” to each other lol And yeah, let’s not forget about the power of knowing all the obscure theater/film references the other one makes!

I also absolutely agree that it wouldn’t be surprising at all if it was confirmed that they are dating lol The only surprising thing really would be the fact that Disney allowed it.

[brenayla]

I really enjoyed your Midnight piece! Can I request more of Julie’s perspective, especially as mulder and Scully’s relationship evolves into romantic, a baby, etc.? Idk how far you’d be willing to follow them, but I really enjoyed it and would definitely tune in to see this perspective all the way thru post-revival even

hi! thanks for tuning in. sorry this took a bit.

---

Little Amber Lynn’s mama will only speak to Mulder.

In the second floor bedroom, Julie watches him take her statement from a distance, hyper-aware that Scully is lurking somewhere beneath their feet.

To say that he inspires trust would not be completely accurate. He wraps a silk hand around your neck, looks at you with his black hole eyes, and compels information from the back of your throat.

They inspire admiration, even from those that try to cover it up with silly nicknames.

They inspire a dread like anaphylaxis settling in.

Even Skinner seems to feel it today, having apparently done something to piss off Scully. As everyone mills around outside the house, preparing to head out, she snaps with staticky irritability.

Now, Julie is no gossip but she finds herself eavesdropping on them, pretending to review her notes as she waits for her carpool. She has always held a curiosity for Skinner.

“Did you get the keys?” Scully asks.

“Yes.” Skinner offers her two sets, each dangling with the evergreen motel tag that’s looped onto Julie's own room keys.

In Julie’s peripheral vision, Scully stares down their boss and swipes one set of keys from his hand. She turns and crisply walks to her car in a swarm of black ice shards, dripping liquid mercury.

That is one mystery solved; a drop in the ocean.

Quietly, Skinner slips the leftover set into his pocket.

Mulder turns up in the Oregonian woods, smack dab in the middle of a crater that didn’t used to be there. At least that’s what Skinner tells Julie when he calls.

It all sounds like something that is not her problem but she’s smarter than to word it like that. “I’m sorry, Sir,” she tries instead, “but has a crime been committed?”

“It’s violent, Agent,” he snaps. “Get your ass on a plane.”

Julie does.

With white gloved fingers, she collects the burnt tatters of Mulder’s old clothes into evidence bags. When she goes to see him in the hospital, he is bright and freezer cold. There is not a scratch on his incandescent skin.

She is here, too. Suited up, thousand-watt Scully. She runs her crystalline talons through Mulder’s hair under the guise of checking for injuries and Julie has to turn away for air.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Julie asks him, Scully looming in the doorway and picking at Julie’s training to scan for an alternative exit.

“You mean before I woke up in the woods in my birthday suit?” Mulder asks.

“Yes,” Julie says, her hindbrain blaring at her to turn around, there’s something behind you. “Before that.”

“Aside from the ship and damn near getting abducted, not much. Skinner can confirm that, he was there.”

Julie relents and glances to the doorway, but it’s just Scully. Arms crossed, masked up.

“Scully,” Mulder says, and she reluctantly steps out into the hallway, halving the clamor of Julie’s fight-or-flight.

It has been years since she interacted with one of them without the other; she’d almost forgotten that they are more palatable alone.

“Sorry about that.” Mulder gives a playful smile, showing off iridescent teeth. For a flash, his fangs drip with ripe cherry blood. Julie blinks. “She’s a little on edge,” he explains.

She wants to lean in; she wants to run away.

“Agent Mulder. How did that crater get there?”

Mulder lies to her. “I don’t know.”

It’s been an exhausting fall and Julie has already attended far too many of these obligatory charity events. American flag pins abound; teary late night talk show hosts. There is a curdling thirst for vengeance in Congress and a frenetic unease in the public.

She and Kramer camp out near the snack table, gorging themselves on free candy to make up for skipping lunch.

“Am I going to Hell if I say I’m getting tired of these?” Kramer asks, setting his carefully folded KitKat wrapper down. It springs back into its old form.

“If you do, I’ll be down there with you.” She watches him reach for a Snickers.

He continues quietly, tearing off a neat slice of flag-colored foil. “I just– There’s only so many times I can listen to these speakers. I get that it’s…”

Over his shoulder, she spots Skinner and – yes, it is him; they are easier to tell apart once they start speaking – Mulder in a black dress shirt, a baby strapped to his chest.

“…but it’s fucking depressing, and–”

“Hey,” Julie whispers. “Your favorite former coworker is here.”

Mouth sticky with caramel and nougat, Kramer asks, “Huh?”

She tilts her head towards Mulder; she cannot look at him for too long, having gone soft from lack of exposure to them. He’s giving her blue and purple echoes, like she’s been staring at the sun.

“Oh yeah, I saw Scully earlier with the…,” Kramer says, gesturing to his torso where a BabyBjorn would sit.

Ah but are you sure it was Scully?

Quickly moving on, Kramer says, “I didn’t think he was so progressive.”

“What did you think then? Scully, barefoot and pregnant?”

He nods thoughtfully, conceding. “I guess you got a point there.”

Julie digs into the sweets bowl until she finds a rare leftover KitKat. “Did you see their kid?”

“Yeah,” Kramer says, popping the rest of his Snickers into his mouth. “Little boy.”

She holds back her real question. They still dance around this, like verbalizing it would make it Real.

But did you see his face?

[lovebugs-and-snakecharmers]

LBSC Lukanette Month - September 2024

Welcome to LBSC Lukanette Month 2024! If you're in a hurry, skip on down to the prompt list below, but be sure to check out the rest of the post for information about where and how to post for maximum visibility. Just to be clear, even though we call it LBSC Lukanette month, ANYONE can participate. There's no membership card and you don't have to join the discord or follow the blog.

You will notice we have many more than 30 prompts here - because there's no such thing as too many prompts. This way you can pick and choose which ones speak to you. As with all of our events, the rules are quite laid back (although we do have some hard and fast rules at the bottom of the post regarding the type of content). You may fill as many or as few prompts as you like, as often as you like, in whatever order you like, in whatever format you like (sprint, minific, 30 chapter epic, whatever makes you happy). Our official event dates are September 1 through September 30, but if you post outside of those dates, we'll still reblog. If you're inspired to write something that you wouldn't otherwise have written, our goals are met, so don't fret about the rules - unless rules inspire you, in which case, take the first 30 or the last 30 prompts and write one prompt every day.

If you are having trouble finding a prompt that speaks to you, you can also check out the LBSC Smooch Roulette generator or take a look at our past sprint prompts.

Please make sure to tag @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers in the body of your post so that we can be sure to reblog your work and include it in our final summary post!

If you post to AO3 please tag LBSC Lukanette Month 2024 and add your work to our collection here.

Feel free to drop any questions in our ask box or join our discord group.

Blue

Pink

Blackout

Locked In

Getaway/Vacation/Road Trip

Out of Town

Street/Craft Fair

Laundry Snuggles

New Pet

A: says something stupid B: laughing "Shut up. I love you."

Broken chair

Big Changes/Little Changes

City Walks

Streetlamp

Music

Shipwrecked

Memory loss

Bonfire

Thief

Headphone

Escape

Dorm

Myth

Planetarium

Change

Voice

Opposite

Improvise

Complications

Fancy Dress

Silly Costumes

Stars

Scales

Compass

Rhythm

Lightning/Spark

Mischief

Notebook

Melody

Secrets/Surprises

"Do you trust me?"

"I can't believe our first date ended in the emergency room."

"Why do I feel like you enjoy getting yourself into danger?"

"Are you okay?" "That was really attractive."

"You're a terrible liar." "I don't know what you mean." "You're smiling."

"I missed my chance once. I won't miss it again."

Rooftop

Free fall

Fate

Concert

Bridge

Piercing

"It‘s not what it looks like!"

"I already take care of 18 little guys so what‘s one more?"

"Is that my hoodie?"

Ink

Fortune

Famous

Panda

"Love is a choice, and I've made mine."

"Look, I know I don't deserve a second chance. But I'm hoping you'll let me have one anyway."

Unexpected

Stage fright

Nail polish

First tattoo/piercing

Secrets

Promises

Learning to drive/ride a bike

Airport

Luggage

Regret

The Rest of the Rules:

NSFW responses are permitted but characters must be 18 or older and the fic should be tagged accordingly. This is a Lukanette blog and a Lukanette event, so while Lukanette does not need to be the main ship, it needs to at least be included or referenced and considered endgame (in other words, they don’t have to be together by the end of your work, but the intent is that they’re headed in that direction, and if they're not, it's a tragedy, not The Best Thing For Everybody). The decision about what qualifies for reblog rests solely with the LBSC moderators. If a piece hasn’t been reblogged within a couple of days, either the mods felt the piece didn’t meet the criteria or it was simply missed; you are welcome to reach out in the asks to inquire which.

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Just want to say: a, I admire very much that you've figured out a healthy way to work on your fics that allows you to have fun with it. And also b, am very excited to hear that you are getting there with pez! It has fully given me brain rot ever since I read it last year, there is just such a lack of content for the highly specific trope of using time travel as a device to explore extremely unhealthy levels of self loathing.

I just adore everything you're doing in it. Neither midoriya is anywhere approaching okay for any portion of the fic and I love rereading and mining into all the subtle characterization pointing to that. It's a bit like nhtycth in that some really goofy funny stuff is often hiding some really fucking worrying things, but the fact that characters DO do that stuff—that todoroki uses his teaspoon's worth of extremely stunted social skills to bludgeon his friend's door open and help him, that a rpf shipping war is an actual source of drama despite how goofy the sentiment seems on the surface, that about half of what jon says is deeply worrying and the other half is extremely funny and there's a lot of overlap between the two—really lifts the tension and brightens the universe. It's sort of similar to what you did with gerry, in that endless misery isn't nearly as painful as the ups and downs of a life that, when you step back and zoom out, has something deeply and horribly wrong with it.

(jon sort of reminds me of spider-man in that he uses human to deal with trauma and stress, except I don't think he at any point realizes how fucking funny he is. He's just there, in a home depot, gnashing his teeth because he's got so many bodies to dispose of and this cashier sure is taking her time.)

I really, really, really have had trouble finding fics that take everything midoriya has dealt with to task. It's a hell of a thing to live 14 years as a disabled minority, have it heavily shape your existence, and then one day you wake up and you realize you're...not that, or at least, nobody will ever acknowledge you as that again. You've lost all claim to it. Those experiences that shaped who you are? Dust in the wind. 14 years of pain and life might as well be buried in the ground for all the good they do you. Nobody's going to cut you any slack or quarter, you've gotta simply work harder, be better. And now when you do that you get the results you wanted, so that's fine, then. That's good. There was something wrong with the you before, and there's something right with the you now, and if the transition is a little rough, well that doesn't matter, you're the same as everyone else now, so it's your own job to fill in whatever gaps you need to.

I really can't get over how mentally fucked it must be for midoriya to run into quirkless people, run across quirkless issues, and be silently caught between, incapable of speaking his mind and too scared to do so anyway around those he can trust.

Also I should mention, I'm just very excited for bakugou to get back from the gym. He's been there like a year I hope he's getting a good workout in.

Me realizing that it’s been a year since pez dispenser debris:

I feel like there’s just this very specific type of grief that Izuku has to grapple with in the span of pez dispenser debris that I’m just obsessed with. He’s sort of silently mourning who he could have been, when 1) he has to present like there’s nothing lost to maintain his secret and 2) the entire world is constantly inundating him with the message that there was nothing lost.

Like. I don’t want to get too deep into it because it risks spoiling things and I do have major plans to continue it (I’ve loved this story for so many years before I ever even hit publish), but the emotion that Izuku’s feeling right now is so much more complex than “I hate who I used to be and want him to stop existing” or “I just want to keep my secrets.” And I think the way he interacts with Mirio is the biggest evidence of that.

Izuku’s placed himself at the very center of the Quirklessness debate with his support of Mirio. He fights for Quirkless heroes, very publicly, to the point where he’s not even graduated yet but considered to be one of the most prominent voices on the matter. If you took a poll of Quirkless people as to which hero would be most supportive of them pursing their own career in heroics, Izuku would be right at the top of the list. When it comes to Quirklessness itself, he’s nothing but supportive.

But he didn’t tell Mirio the truth of his own Quirklessness.

Out of everyone, Mirio’s the one everyone expects to know, despite him being a relatively newer relationship compared to someone like Iida or Uraraka or Todoroki. And I tried to imply that he’s sort of the one who knows the most about Izuku out of everyone save All Might.

Like, we’ll get into how much exactly Mirio knows soon, so I won’t divulge what, if anything, Izuku has told him. But we know that Mirio knows, weirdly enough, that Izuku is deeply fucking haunted. He knows that boy has many violent ghosts in his bones. He finds it hilarious and will tell their realtor about it. Izuku told him about the discontent spirits who died in a violent passion and live on inside of him before he told him about his Quirklessness.

And I just feel like one of those things is a little bit easier to discuss than the other.

Izuku has decided to keep his own Quirklessness quiet in a way that surpasses secrecy about One for All. If it was just about OfA, he could tell people he didn’t get his quirk until the entrance exam, and it wouldn’t even be a lie. He’s purposefully obscuring his own past as Quirkless even as he takes a forefront of the Quirkless hero debate with his open support of Mirio.

And the fact that he’s at the forefront of this debate in and of itself requires a difficult dichotomy. He is the world’s most vocal proponent for the first Quirkless hero. He is a known figure in the Quirkless community now.

He isn’t considered one of them anymore. He’s an outsider coming in.

It must be such a strange, odd sort of grief to come to the people you were home amongst for most of your life and be greeted as a stranger. To return home, and to be welcomed in for the first time, and to not even be able to tell people that you’ve lived here all your life and don’t need a tour.

It’s a sort of death of self, I think. And I think Izuku never expected to have to grapple with his own ghost.

[acescorazon]

Changes

Title: Changes

Chapter: 4/?

Rating: M

Word count: 5114

Warnings: Crocodile. Violence, Explicit Language, Alcohol use, Su*cidal thoughts, and a really sad Buggy who isn't doing too good chief.

Chapter excerpt:

“Oh, so now you’re not going to say anything? After everything you’ve said, now you want to be quiet? I hate you, i hate you, i hate you.”

“Buggy, go to bed. I’m not going to fight you.”

Why?! Why is it the one time Buggy finally gets to say what’s on his mind, he’s instantly being dismissed? Why does he have to go to bed when his heart is pounding and he has so much adrenaline that he feels like he can run a full marathon? “You fight me all the time. Wait, no, no no, we don’t fight. You just beat the shit out of me because i’m beneath you. What’s different this time, huh? Why don’t you want to deal with me now?” 

((A/N: Trust in the process. also manga logic applies to everything in this story. My boy could get thrown into a volcano and walk out fine. which is why he isn't like in a coma rn.))

| CH1 | CH2 | CH3 |

As soon as Cross Guild really starts to gain notoriety and they receive funding from various underworld organizations, Buggy makes sure to have weapons sent over to the island. After all, that’s one of the many things Crocodile wants, and if Crocodile is happy, then Buggy…Well, Buggy gets to live a little longer if Crocodile is at least content, and that has to count for something. 

 

The summer sun is high in the sky, and Buggy’s men are happily chattering and unloading the crews’ new weapons from one of their supplier's ships, some are even trying out their new toys, while Buggy’s stuck in the crew’s armory with Mihawk, uneasy from just being around the other man, not that being surrounded by weapons makes things any better though.

The guns, canons, and various other weapons, don’t get criticized or even really looked at, but the swords they receive end up getting inspected by Mihawk. He goes through every sword, scowling, and making sure Buggy knows that he hates them all.  “Garbage...” he repeats after lifting up every sword, yes every sword, and carefully examining it, and Buggy can’t help but groan internally because he doesn’t get what’s wrong with them, they seem perfectly fine to him.

“These are too fragile and dull. They couldn’t even cut a slice of bread, it’s disgraceful.” Mihawk glares at Buggy as he says those words, making the other squirm slightly, and it’s as if it’s his fault the swords are of such poor quality and not their dealers.

Okay, but Mihawk is supposed to be a great and experienced swordsman, surely he can figure out how to make the best out of the swords they have, right? “Okay, I get that, but… There’s got to be some way we can put them to good use, right?” He asks. 

Mihawk scoffs at him, “The best thing we can do is dispose of them so they can’t fall into someone else’s hands. I doubt anyone around here can use these… Your men’s swordsmanship is at a subpar level, and they’ll break these within their first use, I guarantee you that. Have them destroyed.”  What the hell? First of all, how dare he insult Buggy’s children, and secondly, does he know how expensive those damn swords were? “Hawkeye, we can’t just have them destroyed, do you know how many berries these things cost?” Buggy groans. Surely Mihawk knows that even if they have money coming in now they can’t just afford to throw away millions of berries worth of swords.

Mihawk clicks his tongue in response, “Are you so useless that you can’t even dispose of a few swords?” That’s…that’s not the problem! The problem is that It’d be a waste of money… “Have them destroyed and order new ones, or else.”

Buggy bites the inside of his cheek. There’s a weird concoction of fear and irritation brewing inside of him. He’s too much of a coward to actually stand up to Mihawk, but…But he’s so frustrating!…he wants hundreds of swords just destroyed…such a waste of time and money.

In the end though, Buggy decides that he’s going to just go along with what Mihawk wants because what else can he do? He gives his weapons dealer hell after Mihawk literally has him destroy the crew’s new swords, beyond frustrated that he’d have to wait another week for more weapons to come in because the last thing he wants is for Crocodile to get pissy at him again for someone else’s negligence.

A week later though, and the new shipment of swords is being inspected by Mihawk, who seems at least content with the new batch of weapons, but he has other complaints now, ones about Buggy’s children, again. “I was watching your men training earlier,” he states, putting a sword back into the wooden crate it belongs in, “You should be ashamed to call yourself their leader. They’re as useless in combat as you are.”

Another day, another insult that goes straight to Buggy’s chest. He can never do anything right. Never. And Mihawk and Crocodile have made sure to quickly teach him that painful lesson, everything he tries to do either leads to them cruelly insulting him or worse, kicking his ass, and Buggy’s getting tired of it all.  

These days it feels like he doesn’t have much pride left in him…”Ah, about that…” He replies softly, but he’s not sure what he can even say to defend himself. Yeah, his men aren’t exactly the strongest, but…they’re his kids, Buggy loves them regardless.  

“If we didn’t need men, I’d tell you to get rid of every last one of them.”

But his men…Those are his children…And Mihawk…Mihawk thinks he can just ‘get rid’ of them? Buggy grimaces slightly. It's not the comment about his own incompetence that hurts. Well, okay, that hurts, but it doesn’t hurt that much. It's the fact that Mihawk said he’d get rid of Buggy’s kids that really hurts and leaves him feeling like he’s been stabbed in the chest. Mihawk sees his crew as worthless and replaceable… and if Mihawk gets rid of Buggy's crew... If he takes his only shred of happiness away from him…

...Then what?

“…I’ll have them train harder…” Buggy mutters, and now he has another thing to worry about.

Buggy’s still trying to recover from Mihawk’s harsh words after he leaves the armory, and of course, Crocodile has to come along and make things ten times worse by yelling at him, and it’s over the most trivial thing ever. It’s not even worth mentioning, Buggy just forgot to do something, and Crocodile just…He’s Crocodile.

“Fuck what Hawkeye says, you’re not worth keeping around.”

Yeah…Yeah, he knows.

These days Buggy doesn’t feel big and flashy, these days he feels more like a mosquito than anything. Mihawk and Crocodile make him feel tiny and useless, like a pest that they can get rid of at any moment, and just…

It hurts. 

He finds himself utterly drained after each and every interaction he has with either or both men, often just wanting to be alone after he’s dealt with them. Things are usually at their worst after meetings, he quietly returns to his room after them typically and just… thinks about the things that they’ve said to him. it’s really like they don’t see him as a human being with actual emotions, and their words often come back to haunt Buggy until late at night.

Mihawk thinks he’s a sniveling coward who is undeserving of the title of emperor of the sea. He also thought he was undeserving to be a warlord to be fair…and He thinks he’s a fake and a fraud…And…he’s apparently disgusted at the fact that Shanks considers Buggy such a close friend when he’s a gutless wimp…

As for Crocodile…Well, some things are better left unsaid, but he doesn’t think too highly of Buggy either and makes sure to tell him that every time he comes into contact with him. Buggy doesn’t get why the other two are so hostile towards him when he’s literally never done anything to either of them… 

Plus, It’s not like he hasn’t tried to improve his relationship with the other two because he has, several times actually. Crocodile and Mihawk just have no interest in having even a somewhat normal, healthy work relationship with him because they hate Buggy’s guts and think he’s undeserving of their respect and friendship.

But Buggy can’t figure out why! It just sucks…This whole Cross Guild thing sucks. Mihawk and Crocodile make his life so miserable, but, ahaha, that’s fine… 

…

Once the flagship Crocodile wanted so badly is finally finished, Buggy’s men excitedly grab him, pulling him towards the docks, and Buggy loves their excitement...he just wishes he could share it. He doesn’t care about that stupid ship. Crocodile has screamed at him so many times over it, impatient and not seeming to understand that you can’t just make a ship overnight, and Buggy just… he hates this thing already without having seen it.

 “Chairman Buggy, you’re going to love it!”

“It’s a ship fit for a king!”

“Close your eyes, close your eyes! We want you to be surprised when you see it.”

Buggy closes his eyes like his men tell him to, feeling a little nervous, but he pushes that feeling aside because he gave his crew specific blueprints to follow, so hopefully they were able to build a ship that satisfies Crocodile (if that’s even possible.)

“Okay! You can open your eyes now, Chairman Buggy.”

“...” Yeah, he sure is surprised when he opens his eyes and sees the ship his men have made for Cross Guild. C-clown…There’s a clown figurehead… he thinks, utterly horrified. Now if his men would have made him a giant ship that was circus-themed and used his likeness as a figurehead in the past, he’d be ecstatic. This is the exact kind of ship that he’d want, however, this couldn’t be further from what Crocodile wanted. He…He swears that he gave his men blueprints for the ship that Crocodile wanted to be made, and yet they still…

“Over here, sirs! Look at the ship we built!”

Buggy doesn’t even have the energy to run anymore at this point. He knows who’s behind him without having to look, and… here it comes, Buggy thinks, sighing to himself. It’s not like he asked for this ship, in particular, to be built, his men just worship him like he’s a god, and, ironically, at times he can’t control what they do. They must have thought the original design for the ship was boring and needed to look flashier…Which it did… but, fuck.  

“For fuck’s sake!” Crocodile gasps, “I gave you fucking blueprints!” And Buggy gave those blueprints to his men, who obviously ignored them and wanted to make a ship that looked just like Buggy instead.

“...That thing is hideous…” Mihawk comments quietly.

“I’m so fucking tired of you fucking everything up!” Crocodile yells, “Get your ass in the meeting room, now.”

Crocodile literally grabs him by the hair and drags him away from the docks, his men see all of this, and yet… they somehow still remain oblivious. Do they think it doesn’t hurt Buggy to be grabbed by the back of his head? Or do they think Buggy and Crocodile are playing some kind of cute game?!

The same men who say they’d give their lives to protect Buggy and blindly follow him are high-fiving each other and bragging about the ship they just made for him, either oblivious or uncaring towards the fact that the very man they worship is being pulled away to his doom.

There are tears in Buggy’s eyes long before they even reach the meeting room. He doesn’t think he’s going to make it to see the day the marines come after their heads because he’s pretty sure today’s the day he’s going to die. Crocodile throws him into the meeting room, and he stumbles slightly, almost falling, but Buggy catches himself at the very last moment and sighs shakily, awaiting Crocodile’s wrath. “You really like getting on my nerves, don’t you?!” Crocodile asks, still yelling at him. No, Buggy does not like getting on Crocodile’s nerves, if anything it’s the complete opposite. “Why’d you do it, huh?” he asks, raising his hand high up in the air. 

“I did-..” What Buggy wants to say is: ‘I didn't tell them to make that fucking ship. My men just do what they want, I'm fucking sorry.” but he of course doesn’t get the chance to say that. Crocodile brings his palm down, striking his cheek, and Buggy knew it was coming but he’s still left stunned as his tears start falling down his cheeks.

Buggy didn’t do anything.

Buggy never does anything to deserve this bullshit.

 

Why does he always take all of his frustrations out on Buggy, especially over things that he can’t control or over things that don’t even make sense when you stop to think about them? Buggy’s a coward, right? Since Buggy’s a coward, why would he do something like have a ship that looked like him built? Surely he wouldn’t want to anger Crocodile more. Surely, he wouldn’t have that ship made if he was really trying to make Crocodile mad and then turn around and beg for mercy afterwards…

That just doesn’t make sense. 

Why does he always hit him?

“Look at me when i’m speaking to you.” Crocodile orders, grabbing Buggy by the face roughly and turning it towards his direction. Buggy didn’t even realize he wasn’t looking at him... “I gave you fucking blueprints, why does the ship look like that?” He asks, but he doesn’t wait for a reply before he strikes Buggy in the face again, “Are you trying to fuck with me?” 

“No!” Buggy whines pathetically, trying to get just one full fucking sentence in, “I-”

“Bullshit!” 

Why does Buggy even bother to defend himself? He won’t listen. They won’t listen. They hate him, they want him to suffer, they want him dead. If it weren’t for his status as an emperor, they would have killed him ages ago and fed him to the fish. “I’m so fucking tired of you, clown. You really can’t do a goddamn thing!” Yeah, Buggy knows. 

Crocodile grabs him by his collar and yanks him forward, and he knows what's coming next. Crocodile is going to beat his face in with that cold metal hook of his again. He closes his eyes and braces himself for Crocodile’s punch, but it never comes.

Before Crocodile can punch him, Mihawk grabs Crocodile’s upper arm with a sigh, “I’m tired of listening to his insufferable crying, leave him alone.”

“You telling me what to do?”

The mood in the room was already volatile, but Mihawk somehow made things worse. Mihawk and Crocodile glare at each other while Buggy continues to weep, afraid that at any moment he could get hit again by Crocodile. 

Maybe he should be happy right now. If he’s lucky Mihawk and Crocodile will take all of their anger and frustrations out on each other instead of Buggy, but Buggy is still shaking, weeping, and at his limit…And He’s not sure what pushed him over the edge. Maybe it’s from being hit, or maybe it’s from being screamed at, or maybe it’s all the stress he’s been under lately, maybe it’s all three. He doesn’t know, he just…

He can’t stop crying. 

“Leave him alone. You said you wanted to have a meeting earlier, so let’s start it.” Mihawk repeats, and Buggy wishes he had a fraction of the courage Mihawk has, and that he could just stand up to both of them. “You know i hate having my time wasted.” 

“Like i give a fuck.” Crocodile coldly replies, but he lets go of Buggy a moment later, shoving him to the ground, and Buggy’s unsure what to do next. Just like always Crocodile's going to just scream at Buggy and hit him, and then act like he did nothing…Actually, they’re both going to act like nothing’s happened. They want to actually have a meeting after all that...

Crocodile and Mihawk are so…

“Have a fucking seat, clown.” 

“Quit that crying while you're at it, you’re giving me a headache.”

Buggy picks himself up off the ground, doing what he’s told and having a seat in his usual spot at the meeting table. He’s usually well put together and at the very least he can hold his emotions in until he’s out of the room and far away from the other two. Today’s a little different though. His tears continue to fall as the meeting gets started, and he can barely pay attention to what Crocodile is saying. 

Crocodile sighs as he sits back in his chair and lights a cigar, “Back to the topic of Prickly Pear Island. We aren’t ready for a full takeover, but i’d like to take a little trip there, meet with a couple of people, and see if we can get things moving.” 

Buggy leans forward, resting his head against the cool surface of the table as Crocodile continues to talk. His heart hurts. He hates this all. His home is going to be destroyed, and if his men aren’t killed then Mihawk is going to get rid of them as soon as he finds someone better suited for Cross Guild. Not to mention Buggy himself is on death row, and could be killed by anyone or anything at any given moment. He hates Cross Guild. He hates Mihawk and Crocodile. He hates his life. 

“It’s going to be a pain in the ass, but we have to bring the clown with us,” Crocodile announces, adding to Buggy’s despair. He doesn’t care about that stupid island. He doesn’t want to go, the only reason they’re bringing him is because he’s basically a human shield at this point and the government won’t attack them if he’s around. “And as much as i hate that fuckin ship, it’s all we got for right now.” Does Crocodile think he’s the only one who hates the ship? Buggy fucking hates it too, he doesn’t even want to go near it. 

“But i say we get some more supplies and recruits just in case, and leave in about a month and a half.” He pauses, “I’m giving you one last chance, clown. Get the ship and men ready, and If you fuck this up, it’s over. We don’t need you as much as you think we do.”

Those harsh words echo in Buggy's head as soon as they leave Crocodile's mouth. We don’t need you as much as you think we do… 

If they’re going to kill him, they might as well get it over with. “Just kill me already.” Buggy sobs, but he has no idea if either of the two can even understand him, he’s pretty much a blubbering mess at this point. What’s the point in waiting a whole month and some change? Crocodile’s going to find something, no matter how trivial, to get mad at him about, so why doesn’t he just kill him already and get it over with? His life means nothing, right? They want him dead, right?! 

Crocodile chuckles cruelly, “What do you think, Hawkeye? Should I finish him off now?” So this really is all just a sick game to him, huh? Buggy figured as much. Whatever. If he’s dead then at least he won’t have to deal with these two…

“You’re going to do whatever you please regardless of what I say,” Mihawk sighs, already getting back up from his seat, “I’m growing tired of you both, honestly,” he says, and as soon as he says those words the air in the room grows thick again.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Crocodile frowns. 

“He’s useless and you’re an overconfident fool.” 

“You wanna fucking fight?”

“I don’t. I’m not going to let you waste anymore of my time. Have a good evening, gentlemen.” 

Crocodile looks irate as Mihawk leaves the meeting room, “Arrogant prick,” He complains. He glances over at Buggy for a moment, “You aren’t even worth my goddamn time right now.” He mutters cruelly before getting up from his seat, “Fucking Hawkeye, ruining my meeting…” he grumbles as he follows after Mihawk, or at least that’s what Buggy assumes he’s doing, but he doesn’t really care. 

He stays in his seat, and his vision is blurry as he stares at nothing in particular in front of him, sniffling here and there. So just like that he gets to live another day in terror, huh? Another day with them? He doesn’t get it, why does he have to live and die by their hands? 

“Captain!”

“Captain, Are you okay?!” 

Cabaji and Mohji suddenly burst into the room, catching Buggy off guard and yanking him out of his thoughts. They pull him out of his chair, embracing him tightly. Oh, he doesn’t deserve this kind of warmth…  “Those guys are…” Mohji trails off… 

“Yeah, they’re…are you sure we have to keep them around?” Cabaji whispers, finishing the other man’s sentence. Yeah. Yeah, unfortunately, Mihawk and Crocodile are here to stay, and even after Buggy’s long gone, who knows how long they’ll keep Buggy’s men in their grasp. They could get rid of them in an instant, or keep them until they’ve worked them to death, depending on who gets a say in things.  

“Captain Buggy…Every time I turn around, I see you crying these days.”

“Yeah, Captain, are you sure you’re doing okay?” 

No, of course, Buggy isn’t okay. But he’s…He’s Buggy. He’s a clown, he’s their leader, he’s like a father (or sometimes a God) to his crew… he’s supposed to put smiles on their faces and their fears to rest, he… He forces himself to smile, though his voice is still shaky as he speaks, “A-are you kidding me?! I’d never let those two get to me…” He tells them, but his voice is small, broken, and full of insecurity. 

“Captain…” They both call out at the same time, expressions full of worry as they stare at Buggy and continue to hug him. 

“Hey, forget those guys! It’s getting late, let’s go have some fun!” Mohji suggests with a grin.

“Yeah! We’ll put a smile on your face captain.” Cabaji nods. 

...

Buggy stumbles out of Mohji’s tent, intoxicated and muttering things to himself. Turns out drinking doesn’t always make you feel better, who would have known? Just kidding! He’s well aware that alcohol can’t solve all his problems, or any of them, really. It sure never made the pain he felt once his captain died or Shanks left better…But whatever, he doesn’t want to think about either of them because thinking about them makes him sad, well, sadder, haha.  

He’s always been a rather…emotional drunk and alcohol has never comforted him, and he knows that. He doesn’t even know why he agreed to drink in the first place…But whatever, it’s too late. He’s got whiskey in his system, and he feels worse than he did before he agreed to drink with Cabaji and Mohji as he tries to remember which direction his tent is in. His tent is…Hm… He thinks it’s just south of the docks…Where are the docks again? 

...and what way is south?

Whatever, he'll figure it out. It’s so hard to see around the island during the night… he swears he ordered more lights to be put up…. Or maybe he thought he made that order, Buggy can’t remember right now. Whatever, he’s tired and sad, and he kinda feels sick. No, actually he feels really sick and he can’t tell if he should lie down or find a trash can. Who cares though, nothing matters because…

I’m gonna die soon... 

Tonight might be the last time he ever gets to see Cabaji and Mohji, and Richie too, and he made sure to hug all of them before he left. Crocodile is going to kill him. He’s going to stab him in the chest with his hook! Or throw him into the ocean and let him drown! Or maybe he’ll dry him out like a piece of jerky and leave him to die a slow, painful death! Who knows, there’s just so many things he can do! Maybe he’ll get Mihawk involved. Maybe they’ll both beat him to death and leave him to succumb to his injuries. 

Ha, what a pathetic life he’s lived! He didn’t even get to see the one piece once, but all well, maybe his captain will tell him what it’s like once they meet up together again. He stares up at the night sky. Sweet, there’s a full moon out, he thinks as he takes in his surroundings. The earth seems to tilt and spin as he tries to walk without falling over, and he laughs to himself. if Crocodile and Mihawk saw him right now, they’d call him pathetic and tell him he should just die now before he disgraces his crew further.  

He should just die…?

He should just shut up and die. After all, he’s pathetic, he’s worthless, he’s a sniveling crybaby who can’t do a goddamn thing! Buggy chuckles bitterly again. Oh, man, they’re right. How did he become one of the four emperors of the sea? Surely that title should have gone to one of them instead, or perhaps one of the members of the worst generation? They’ve been causing quite a stir lately… man, even a child would have been more deserving of such a title than him. 

Buggy does make it to his tent, despite the world being wobbly and all, but he pauses before he can go inside. Hm. He turns back around a moment later, heading toward the docks instead after a rather grim idea pops up in his head.

It’s been a fun life or at least the first…fourteen years were. Everything after that one thing was kind of… He doesn’t want to think about it. Orange Town was fun, kinda, he had a fun time running things and making people tremble in fear… What the fuck happened? He used to be so…intimidating. Now he’s a coward who spends the majority of his time crying and hiding from his problems. Fuck, his captain is going to be so pissed at him for letting two assholes come around and ruin his life.

“I’m so sorry,” Buggy mutters quietly. His feet feel heavy as they make contact with the wooden docks below him. Now that he thinks about it, things are quite peaceful right now. He thinks that this is how he’d like to remember Emptee Bluffs Island; as either a beautiful, peaceful island or a cheerful one bustling with life. He doesn’t want to know what'll look like once the Marines get their hands on it nor does he want to imagine it.

As he heads towards the end of the dock, his eyes suddenly notice a large figure that he didn’t originally see, sitting quietly in the moonlight. He sniffles, wiping his eyes slightly and trying to figure out who could possibly be sitting at the end of the dock in the middle of the night. Tall, Broad shoulders, spiky hair…Hawkeye? But…He doesn’t have his sword with him…No, it doesn’t matter, it’s still him, and he realizes that fact a little late because of his current state.

 

“Still crying?” Mihawk asks without even having to look back. How does he know it's him without having to look? Is Buggy really that big of a crybaby that everyone knows it's him crying without having to so much as look in his direction? “I didn’t think that Crocodile had that big of an effect on you.” 

Is he serious right now?! 

Why doesn’t he fucking get it!

This jerk doesn’t even know what it means to be human, he has no idea what Buggy’s feeling right now. He just judges him and criticizes him, and-- Buggy hates him, he hates them. He hates himself. He hates Cross Guild. He hates his fucking life! “You’re really awful,” Buggy blurts, and once he starts airing his grievances he can’t stop, no longer remembering why he even came to the docks in the first place now that he has Mihawk in his sights, “You treat me like a piece of shit and expect me to be fine with it. I hate you.” 

“Are you drunk?” Mihawk asks, glancing over his shoulder at him. 

Yeah, maybe Buggy is drunk? So fucking what? “I’ve never done anything to either of you, and yet you treat me so horribly, and i’m sick of it. I’m so tired of living like this. So, if you’re going to kill me, just do it!” he tells him, voice slurring and raising slightly, “You want me dead so bad, don’t you? I’m worthless and cowardly, aren’t i? You’re sick of me, aren’t y–”

Mihawk sighs, and if Buggy were sober he would be able to recognize the signs that indicate that Hawkeye is growing irritated, and get the hell out of there but he’s piss drunk and he just doesn’t care. “Be quiet, will you?” Mihawk orders him, turning back around and looking up at the night sky.

“No! I’m tired of being quiet. I’m tired of being bossed around, i’m tired of being told i’m useless, i’m tired of being beaten within an inch of my life. You do know that i’m human too, right? Or do you just not care?” 

“Did you come here looking for an apology?” Mihawk asks, a hundred times more calm, cool, and collected than Buggy could ever hope to be. 

“Who gives a fuck about an apology!? I just want it all to end. I hate you so much.” 

“You’ve made that clear.”

You’ve made that clear? That’s all he can say? No apologies? No arguments? No beating him? Nothing now? Now Buggy's unworthy of even getting his ass beat? “I fucking hate you.” Buggy repeats, this time with more emotion in his voice. Mihawk might not care, but Buggy still wants him to know how much he hates him and how much he’s ruined his life. 

“...”

“What did i do to you?! We hardly know each other.” 

“...”

“Oh, so now you’re not going to say anything? After everything you’ve said, now you want to be quiet? I hate you, i hate you, i hate you.”

“Buggy, go to bed. I’m not going to fight you.”

Why?! Why is it the one time Buggy finally gets to say what’s on his mind, he’s instantly being dismissed? Why does he have to go to bed when his heart is pounding and he has so much adrenaline that he feels like he can run a full marathon? “You fight me all the time. Wait, no, no no, we don’t fight. You just beat the shit out of me because i’m beneath you. What’s different this time, huh? Why don’t you want to deal with me now?” 

Mihawk gets up from where he’s sitting with a groan, “Just go to bed, you’re drunk and i don’t feel like dealing with you.” He raises his hand, and Buggy’s drunk brain starts screaming that he’s going to get hit again, and he closes his eyes, flinching, waiting for Mihawk to hit him or punch him. 

But he doesn’t.

Mihawk puts his hands on Buggy’s shoulder and spins him around, shoving him forward, “Go.” he orders sternly, and Buggy listens this time, sniffling and crying as he returns back to his sleeping quarters for the night.  

He just hates him so much…

((A/n: No, listen... I know they're horrible to him. i can fix them. TRUST ME. Also no one asked but i got rid of that plot line where Buggy's like uwu i wanna go after the one piece too now that my ex is after it bc... like that aint got shit to do with this story.))

[zahmaddog]

IV. Treasure Found

Closure Series

SFW | Crosshair x fem!reader

I. Nightmares of Eriadu , II. Going Home , III. Familiar Face

Warnings: SFW Romance between Crosshair x fem!reader, blaster violence, grief, processing grief, Hunter has gas, fluff, etc.

Characters involved: Crosshair x fem!reader x Hunter x Phee x Wrecker x Omega x Stranger

Word Count: 3423

Author Note: This is one of the best chapters of fiction I've ever written. I'm so stoked on it! I hope you like it.

<original cover art coming>

You must have fallen asleep at some point because you awoke suddenly to a putrid smell.

���Wrecker, I’m going to kill you,” you hear Crosshair stir. 

“That wasn’t me!” Wrecker affirms. The silence and smell lingered for a moment longer.

“Hunter, are you by chance still eating those expired ration bars?” Crosshair fumes.

Hunter shifts in bed. You and Crosshair glance at each other, knowing he’s awake.

“So, you are still eating expired ration bars,” Crosshair condemned.

Hunter audibly sighs, but refuses to say anything.

“When are you going to take the blame you deserve?” Crosshair sits up and turns towards Hunter’s bunk.

“Crosshair, it was just gas,” Wrecker tries to cool Crosshair down. “It’s usually a joke!”

“No, I’m not talking about that,” Crosshair was fuming and now standing closer to Hunter’s bunk. He still had his back to Crosshair. You move from the bunk and stand too. 

“Crosshair?” You ask, “What’s going on?” “Tech would still be here if you didn’t lead him into that mission,” Crosshair accuses Hunter.

The room falls silent as his words now linger with an intensity that outpaces Hunter’s gas.

“Hey, you’re not thinking clearly,” you try to calm him down as you take his hand. He turns towards you, but he just can’t let it go.

“No,” Crosshair flips back towards Hunter’s bunk. “I saw the rail line. You took Omega across that?” Hunter flinches a little and begins to sit up silently. Crosshair doesn’t let up.

“How were you ever fit to be our leader?” Crosshair growls.

Hunter moves enough to let his legs dangle off of the edge of the bunk, his somber eyes focused on the ground. Crosshair lurched forward again in anger, but Wrecker placed his hand on his shoulder. 

“Crosshair, you know why we went to Eriadu,” Hunter begins softly. “We were looking for you.” “So, Tech’s death is my fault?” Crosshair lashes.

“No,” Hunter sighs. “It’s no one’s fault. It just happened. He put himself ahead of the squad and saved us all.”

“Hm,” Crosshair narrows his eyes and scowls at Hunter briefly, then looks away and grimaces. 

“You’re grieving, Crosshair,” Hunter finally looks up at Crosshair. “I know you know that Tech would have looked for you regardless if he had my blessing or not.”

Crosshair spins back to his bunk and violently sits. His hands run over his head and he stops to cover his eyes. 

“I know,” Crosshair sighs. “I know.” “Do you really think he’s gone?” Wrecker chimes in.

“He was always gone,” Crosshair mutters.

“I thought that too, but I’m doubtful we’ll ever know the truth,” Hunter sighs. 

The door to the cockpit opens and Phee materializes, “I’m glad you’re all up.” “What’s going on?” You ask Phee. 

“It’s time to land soon. Get your gear. I have a feeling we’ll have to move fast,” she exits the room again. 

“Why are we going with Phee to Agomar?” Wrecker sits down on his bunk in emotional defeat.

“Closure,” Hunter sighs. “It’s the least we can do.”

_____________________________

You dressed in fresh clothes and ditched your armor and helmet. You freshened what you could in Phee’s ship washroom and then melted into Phee’s co-pilot seat.

“Phee,” you started, “What are we doing here?” Agomar came into view as the ship exited hyperspace.

“Following a hunch,” she said quietly. “Do you trust me?” Her eyes fall on you with a daring look to them.

“At this point, I don’t think I have a choice,” you try to lighten the mood.

Phee kills the engines, the sudden fall forward takes you by surprise. You had experienced her stealth entrances before, but your stomach had yet to get used to them. How did I end up with friends more reckless than me? You asked yourself. The boys in the back may have felt us drop from hyperspace, but they were less prepared than you were for the covert approach. You hear Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair scream a little in the back as the zero gravity kicks in. One of them emits a painful yell.

Phee switches the engine back and breaks just in time for a peaceful landing. The door to the bunks opens and Hunter stumbles out, his hand holding his scarf to his face.

“I was shaving, Phee,” he sternly scolds. 

“Well, maybe you should have shaved earlier,” Phee rolls off his comment without taking her eyes from the datapad. She points out the window without looking up, “He should be just over there.”

You gaze out the window to where she was pointing and see a small village. A large cargo ship sits just outside of the apparent suburbs. 

“That’s the ship you tracked?” You point. 

“Uh-huh,” Phee stands and opens the door to her ship. Her eyes fiery with determination, you started to believe her when she said she had found Tech. But you shook the feeling off, knowing you’d need to be there for her when it wasn’t Tech. It couldn’t be him.

You followed her down the ramp of the ship and waited at the bottom for the clones. Hunter had taken his time cleaning his fresh cut from his razor, Wrecker changed into civilian clothing, and Crosshair was moving slower than usual. 

Phee didn’t bother waiting at the bottom of the ramp, so you and the clones jog to catch up to her as she crosses the short distance of desert to the village. Phee was always determined and focused on treasure hunts, but this level of focus was intimidating. 

The group arrived at the cargo ship and walked to its entrance, finding it open with a pirate guard standing by.

“Excuse me,” Phee begins a conversation with the guard, “We’re looking for Captain Solomon. Could you point where he went?”

The guard shifts to an expression of confusion and tries to stand taller. “He – he went to town,” the guard stammers. 

“Where in town?” Crosshair interrogates. 

“A bar,” the guard shrugs. “He was meeting a customer. He should be back soon.” “We don’t have time to wait,” Phee puts her hands on her hips and tries to gather more information with her stern look alone. Her impatience fueled the mission.

“I swear that’s all I know,” the guard retorts.

You pull out your datapad and look up local bars, finding only two to be in the village.

“There’s not that many to check,” you report. “Let’s go.” Phee takes another look at the guard before turning and following you into the village. 

You lead Phee and the clones to the first bar on the map. It was on the front-edge of the village, not far from the cargo ship. You peer inside the bar with Phee as the clones wait outside.

“I’m sorry they’re not as supportive as they could be,” you apologize to Phee for their actions, but you knew they were mourning. Grief is heavy to walk with.

“I’d be afraid of what we’re searching for too,” Phee shrugs.

“I guess so,” you realize as you and Phee continue to step inside of Clone Force 99’s family matters.

“I don’t see him,” Phee says as she continues to scan every face. “On to the next place.”

Exiting the bar, Crosshair reaches for your hand to continue to walk through the village together. With his other hand in his pocket and hiding beneath his helmet, he kept to himself; watching the ground with each step he took. You feel his heartbreak as he drudged along, trusting you to lead the way. The village had beautiful fire light fixtures to light the road as the night sky created a scenic backdrop. The buildings were cylindrical and tall, reminding you of the outskirts of Tatooine. Agomar felt like a planet made for pirates.

The second bar was a bit further up the road. Entering into it, the clones followed sluggishly. Now inside, you scanned every face you could, but Phee’s face stopped you in your tracks. She suddenly looked content and almost — happy. She floated through the crowd ahead of her. You followed her gaze and witnessed the eye-patched man himself. You gasped as he was nearly a splitting image of Crosshair.

“Crosshair,” you pat his shoulder to get his attention. He takes off his helmet and looks at you with a sense of urgency and needing answers, but all you can do is point: “Look.”

Crosshair moves his head down to be eye-level with your pointed hand. His eyebrows furrow as he follows your pointed hand past Phee. He stands tall suddenly, his eyes wide-open. You knew he saw him too.

You and he trace Phee’s gentle footsteps towards the crowd surrounding the man, getting just close enough to hear the beginnings of the conversation unfold.

“Tech?” Phee interrupts his conversation with a group of aliens.

Captain Solomon was surprised that someone would interrupt him. He turns slightly towards her and squints his left eye at Phee.

“You’re the woman from Eriadu. Why have you come here?” He blusters and faces her fully. 

“I’ve come because — “ Phee lost her words, “Don’t you remember me?”

“Yes, like I mentioned previously. You’re the woman I met on Eriadu a single rotation ago,” he informs again. “Why are you here?”

“But, we met before that — Do you remember?” She reiterates.

“No, we are not acquainted,” he insists. 

You and Crosshair take another step closer and catch Phee’s attention from the corner of her eye.

“Crosshair, come here,” Phee asks, extending her hand out towards him. Crosshair hesitates. He inhales deeply and hands you his helmet then steps forward aside Phee and Captain Solomon. Eye-to-eye with the stranger, Crosshair’s eyes widen once more.

“Tech?” He mutters.

“No, my name is Captain Solomon. I’m the captain of this brigade and you are interrupting an important transaction,” he stammers again.

“Now, you promised me you wouldn’t go running off with pirates,” Phee places her hands on her hips and shifts her head.

Crosshair stands in silence and disbelief. Tech shifts away.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I will resume my work,” Tech stammers. Phee reaches out her hand to gain his attention back, but Crosshair takes a step closer to the Captain ahead of her hand. 

Hunter and Wrecker finally caught up and had equally shocked expressions on their faces. You turn to them to catch them up to speed.

“He — He doesn’t remember,” you whisper to them.

“What do you mean he doesn’t remember?” Wrecker responds back impatiently. He pushes closer through the crowded space.

Crosshair grabs the captain’s shoulder and turns him around.

“I’m sorry, these two strangers have yet to learn why saying “no” is the safer choice,” Captain Solomon relays to his crew as he rolls his eyes and takes a step towards Crosshair in an attempt to intimidate. He squints at Crosshair and studies his facial features. Instead of intimidating Crosshair as planned, he finds himself anxious, despite sharing a similar build and close height. His gaze darts to the side and his shoulders buckle slightly.

“What? Is it like looking in a mirror?” Crosshair jabs.

“You have a strange tattoo,” the captain interjects nervously.

“Funny. You put it there,” Crosshair shrugs cooly.

“How would I have —- “ he starts, but Crosshair interrupts.

“I gave you one too,” Crosshair continues.

Captain Solomon turned his head slightly in amusement and waited for Crosshair to continue. Impatient and demanding as usual, Crosshair pokes a finger into Captain Solomon’s left pec. 

“You have a ninety-nine tattooed right here,” he attests.

Captain Solomon’s eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“With red ink,” Crosshair continues.

He asks, “How did you know that?” He turns to his crew, “Which one of you informed him of my tattoo?” The crew, all watching this conversation at this point, remain silent. 

“I gave you that tattoo after returning from a mission on Kamino over a decade ago,” Crosshair resumes. “We all have a ninety-nine tattoo somewhere.”

“Kamino?” He questions. “And to which group of “all” are you referring to?”

“You really don’t remember?” Crosshair’s eyes grew sorrowful. “Omega? Have you forgotten her too?”

“Omega?” He revels for a moment, but is interrupted by his impatient client.

“Look, do we have a deal or not?” The alien yells as it slams a suitcase down on the table.

Solomon looks back to Crosshair, “I’m sorry, but this conversation will need to wait.”

Crosshair turns violently away from him and pushes past Phee as he storms out of the bar. Hunter catches his arm; Crosshair meets his eyes.

“It’s him,” Crosshair sighs and shakes Hunter’s arm off. “But he doesn’t remember a thing.” 

Crosshair leaves the bar, so you chase after him. 

_________________________

The night desert air was brisk and cold. You found yourself rubbing your arms for warmth as you shiver. Crosshair purses his toothpick in silence as he leans against the wall of the bar, unbothered by the cold. Your shivering distracts him and breaks him from his trance.

“Here,” he removes his poncho and places it over you. “For a bounty hunter, you prepared poorly for this mission,” he pokes at you.

“I left everything on the ship thinking this would be a quick stop,” you over-explain as you stare into his helmet’s reflection; the metal cold in your hands.

The streets were calm with the occasional passerby. The fire fixtures warm, but no match for the cold. 

“So, is it really him?” You ask.

“Mmhmm,��� Crosshair grunts. “But, I never would have put money on Tech losing his mind. Out of the brothers, I should have lost my mind.”

Hunter and Wrecker exit the bar; their shoulders dropped in a new season of disappointment.

“He didn’t remember us either, in case you were wondering,” Wrecker fills Crosshair in. 

“Phee can’t pull herself away, but we wanted to check on you, Crosshair,” Hunter hesitates.

“How touching,” Crosshair sighs. 

Blaster fire illuminates the inside of the bar, causing you and the clones to jump. 

“Now what?” Crosshair takes his pistol and readies himself. 

Hunter, Wrecker, Crosshair, and yourself run back into the bar to find chaos. From what you could gather in a few seconds, civilians were cowering under their tables as a blaster fight erupts between Captain Solomon’s crew and the clients. Phee darts towards you at the door with her blaster readied. 

“I am not watching him die again,” Wrecker stresses and charges into battle, defending Captain Solomon. 

Wrecker fires off a shot to the back of the bar, exploding the collection of drinks and barrels of alcohol. Every individual on that side of the room, including Captain Solomon, flies in multiple directions. Wrecker picks him up and throws him across his shoulder: Solomon unconscious. The bar’s customers pour out of the doors, pushing past you, Phee, Hunter, and Crosshair.

“I’ve got him,” Wrecker announces. “Let’s go.”

“We can’t just take him,” Hunter argues and stops Wrecker at the door.

“Why not?” Wrecker inquires.

“He — he has a whole life built out here. It’s not right of us to demand he come with us,” Hunter reasons.

“But if he can’t remember us, how does he have a choice?” Crosshair asserts.

Hunter’s eyes dart away from Crosshair’s, then slowly return back to his gaze.

“Is this what you would have wanted, back when you had your inhibitor chip?” Hunter asks.

The bar begins to burn down faster as the fire spreads, you pull on Phee’s hand to get her moving around Crosshair and Hunter’s conversation.

“I didn’t know what I wanted because I didn’t have a choice.” Crosshair reiterates intensely, then sighs. “But you could have captured me and removed my chip if you tried, Hunter. Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

Hunter nods and quotes himself from years past, “We don’t leave our own behind.” “Not again,” Crosshair interjects with a slight smile.

Hunter and Crosshair follow you, Phee, and Wrecker carrying Captain Solomon out of the collapsing building. Crosshair gave the poor bar one last glance before flicking his toothpick into the fire. He takes his helmet from you and leaves the area with you in a hurry.

“They’re taking the captain!” A man just outside the building shouts and points at your party. Hunter and Crosshair ready their weapons. Hunter darts behind a box and engages.

“Get back to the ship!” Hunter yells to you, Phee, and Wrecker. “Phee, come pick us up.” He turns to fire a few blasts at the charging crew members, then turns back to you quickly. “Keep them safe.” You draw your blaster and nod. Crosshair kisses your cheek, slides his helmet on, and darts behind the crate with Hunter to hold them off. You turn and start towards the ship.

Crosshair and Hunter kept Solomon’s crew locked in the streets, making it easier to run quickly back to the ship. As you pass Solomon’s cargo ship, you hear the guard mutter in the wind, “Wait, was that the captain?”

Phee deploys the stairs to her ship and you, Phee, and Wrecker sprint up the stairs. Phee switches on the ship while Wrecker lays Solomon onto an empty bunk. You sit in the co-pilot seat and locate Crosshair and Hunter. Still in the streets, blasting and stunning crew members away, Phee’s ship takes off towards them. You grab your blaster and deploy the ramp while in mid-air and cover Hunter and Crosshair with blaster fire. Phee lowers the ship just enough for Hunter to jump from the crate onto the ramp, followed by Crosshair. They scurry up the ramp as you slowly walk up the stairs backwards continuing to cover them. Phee seals the ramp and the ship ascends into the atmosphere.

––––––––––––––––––––––––

Hyperspace felt more peaceful this time as you, Phee, and the clones surrounded Tech’s bunk and watched him rest.

“So I lost a hand, Wrecker’s lost his eye, Tech’s lost an eye and his mind, and you Hunter —,” Crosshair prods. “What?” Hunter sighs.

“Your day is coming,” he points with his toothpick and a sly smile.

Hunter rolls his eyes, “Glad to see you’re in a better mood, Crosshair.”

“So what do we do with him?” Wrecker turns his attention back to Tech.

“I guess we wait until he wakes and jog his memory,” Phee sits down on the bunk across from him.

“And if he never remembers?” Hunter asks.

The room fell silent as the obvious answer was unthinkable.

Crosshair sighs, “We drop him back with that worthless crew.”

You pull down your pack from storage and pull out a med-patch and hand it to Phee. She stands to be by Tech’s side and assists him with the patch.

“Hunter,” you walk towards him and place your hand on his shoulder. “We should comm Omega.”

Hunter nods, “I don’t know how to tell her.”

“She’ll never forgive you if you don’t tell her,” you remind him. 

“True,” he surmises. “We’ll all contact her; together.”

“Phee, can you send a transmission to Omega’s ship?” You ask.

“Say the word,” Phee smiles at you.

___________________________________________________

“What do you mean he can’t remember?” Omega’s mixture of disbelief and excitement radiated through the hologram in the middle of Phee’s ship. 

“He didn’t recognize any of us. We still don’t know how he got to be that way… Or why he was with pirates,” Hunter explained.

“But he’s there? Alive?!” Omega exclaimed. 

“Yes, it’s him,” Crosshair nodded. 

“Where are you headed? I will leave now,” Omega announces.

“We’re on our way back to Pabu, kid,” Wrecker begins. “And I need to have a word with you on how you left without saying goodbye.” “Sorry, I didn’t know how to tell you. Or Crosshair,” she apologizes. “I told Phee.”

“Barely,” Phee chuckles. “You hinted at joining the rebellion.”

“Did she tell you or did you overhear that?” Crosshair asks you, knowing it was probably the talk of “Girl’s Night.”

“I didn’t know. I was probably asleep,” you shrug.

“Checks out,” Crosshair mutters with a soft smile. 

“I’m on my way,” Omega reports. “I’ll see you soon.” The hologram switches off. Tech stirs in his bunk, but doesn’t wake. You gaze at the four defective clones and feel a sense of completeness you had only experienced when looking at old holographs of Clone Force 99. Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair found themselves sitting in the bunks staring at, well, Tech. 

“So Brown-eye,” Phee mutters as she walks back over to his bedside. “What happened to you?” 

She brushes his overgrown hair behind his ear. She looks up at you, “Can you land the ship and take care of things for me?”

“Sure thing, Phee,” you vow.

___________________________

Part V coming soon.

____________________________

Taglist:

@heidnspeak @cloneflo99 @megmegalodondon @tentakelspektakel @maniacalbooper

[shipmistress9]

In Control

Fandom: Fourth Wing -- The Empyrean

Ship: Xaden/Violet

Rating: E

Main Tags: D/s dynamics, bondage, trust

Synopsis:

“Don’t lie to me, Violence,” he murmurs as he tugs a strand of hair back into my loose braid. “This only works if you’re completely honest about how you feel, with me but also with yourself.” Once, Xaden didn't want Violet to take a look into his armoire, and she joked that she already knew all of his clothes. Little did she know about what he really keeps hidden there. Further down their relationship, Xaden eventually shows her his collection of sex toys and bondage gear, and Violet is more than just a little intrigued. But... she brave enough to give up control?

This started as a silly joke in a chat group with dear friends, the perfect BDMS arsenal hidden in a wardrobe. Then it became a plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone. Now, it's roughly 8.5k words of smut. I'm absolutely not sorry! 😁

Also, this takes place in a Universe Alteration where Xaden didn’t hold back after the first time he and Violet kissed. They get closer, become lovers, and he lets Violet in on his secrets, about Aretia, Brennan, the Venin and Wyvern, the rebellion. So for this story, they’ve been a couple for months already, with no secrets left between them.

@drsoaresrex You wanted me to tag you in this. ☺️

. o O o .

Violet

It started slowly. Simple.

I always liked it when things between Xaden and me turned rougher. Hell, it’s been like that from the very first moment, and going slow and soft is rarely our style, especially in bed. We’re both too needy, too hungry for each other to hold back.

I also like him taking the lead, at least when it comes to sex. Maybe it’s because with him I know I don’t have to always watch my back. With him, I’m safe. And wherever he leads us, it’ll be good.

And who doesn’t like it when their partner focuses their entire attention on only them, on pleasing them several times per night?

No, I never thought much of all this, and other things I liked just… neatly fit into our relationship as well. Like how him pinning my hands above my head when we make out turns me on more, or how my heartbeat quickens when he uses his shadows to keep me from fidgeting too much.

But while I didn’t pay those things any mind, Xaden did. Was actually slowly testing out how far he could go before it became uncomfortable for me.

And now, we’re here, in his spacious room, and he’s about to show me the contents of his armoire—the one I thought merely held his clothes until today.

“Are you nervous?” Xaden throws me an amused glance as I shift my weight—for the fourth time in half as many minutes.

I blink and try to reign in my racing heart. “N-no? Why would I be?”

He pointedly looks at where I’m ringing my hands, which I drop immediately. Then he steps in front of me, his fingers gently prying my lower lip from between my teeth. “Don’t lie to me, Violence,” he murmurs as he tugs a strand of hair back into my loose braid. “This only works if you’re completely honest about how you feel, with me but also with yourself.”

Right…

I take a deep breath and nod. Because I want this to work, for this first trial run, at least. “Okay. Yeah, I’m nervous. I’ve never…” I helplessly gesture at his armoire.

“…used a sex toy?” he asks, his scarred eyebrow raised.

(More beneath the cu or on AO3)

“Let someone else use one on me,” I correct him, lightly swatting his arm. “Let alone more than one…”

Xaden hums, a smirk playing around his lips. He’s in a good mood today. “It’s not so much different from sex without toys,” he says as he beckons me closer and opens the door. “Amazing for everyone involved, if you know how to handle your tools.”

Heat spreads across my cheek and pools in my belly as I step next to him. My body remembers all too well how well he handles his tools, after all.

However, when I take in his collection, my mouth goes dry. “Oh my…” I breathe, eyes going wide. It’s not that he didn’t tell me he had a good amount of toys, but… I wasn’t prepared for this.

Neatly sorted into row above row lie more dildos I thought any one person might need, and a lot more toys where I only partially can guess what they’re even used for. I see whips and plugs, clamps, and paddles on one side, then gags, blindfolds, leather cuffs, and a lot of rope on the other. On the ground, there’s a box with more toys, and only at the very top of the huge armoire are three small areas with Xaden’s neatly folded clothes.

His warm weight at my back is a welcome support as my knees grow a little weak, my breathing quickening. “So this is what you didn’t want me to discover the first time you took me to your room back then,” I murmur, grateful for his arms winding around my waist and his lips brushing against my temple. A grounding bit of normalcy.

“Didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he admits, then adds after a pause, “So… what do you think?”

I think this is the first time I ever heard any vulnerability in his voice, I think to myself, but I’m careful not to let him hear those thoughts.

“It’s… intimidating?” I admit. No hiding my feelings, it’s what I promised him. “You used all of these, I guess? I don’t even know what half of these are used for.” I shake my head.

“I did, yes. I can explain them all to you, or answer any question you want to ask. And we don’t need to use any of these either if you don’t want to. I’m just… informing you about your options.”

Smiling to myself, I turn in his arms. “But you want to, don’t you?”

There’s a strange look in his eyes, the same vulnerability I heard in his voice. “I’d like that, yes. But…” He shakes his head. “Violet, this is not something I’d ever force or even just push on you. Whether we end up going through this entire armoire and even expand it or never even use a single toy, I’ll be happy either way. This is not about what I want.”

Because all he wants is for me to be happy. He’s made that clear a thousand times since I learned about the secrets he’d kept from me.

I sigh. “I want to try, I think.”

“You think?” He raises an eyebrow, lips tilting into a smile at the familiar exchange.

“I know I want to try. But…” I bite my lip and avert my eyes. “Maybe not everything at once?”

At that, he laughs.

. o O o .

“Okay, so, which ones would you want to use first?” I ask a little while later. I got a short but good explanation for most of the toys. It got a bit overwhelming in-between… but mostly, I’m just horny now. Imagining all things he could do…

Xaden eyes me with a measuring look, then turns toward his armoire. “Generally, I’d prefer not to tell you. Let it be a surprise, you know?”

I huff a laugh. Of course…

“But as long as we’re testing whether this works, I’ll gladly tell you beforehand. So, for tonight… How about these?”

He picks a few items and places them in front of me onto the bed. There’s a couple of dildos in varying sizes, a bottle of oil, some pieces from the box at the bottom, sex toys specifically made for Riders as they’re powered by our lesser magic, and a thin black scarf.

“That looks… tame?” I say, inwardly relieved he didn’t pick any of the whips and paddles.

Xaden smirks. “If you say so.” he sits down across from me. “My goal as a… as a Dom is to please you. That’ll be my focus, to make you feel good. Over and over and over.”

I shudder at the implication, heat pooling between my thighs.

“And while some people find pleasure in pain and ‘punishments’, and I’m more than happy to deliver those if it’s what you desire, I would not go there right away. If you like those things, we’ll get there eventually, but with how you react to pain differently already, that’d be a slow journey.”

I nod, touched by his consideration. “And what’s this for?” I point at the scarf.

“It’s a blindfold.” Xaden picks up the silken fabric and lets it run through his fingers. The sight makes my throat go dry and I need to swallow. I can’t wait to feel those skilled hands on my body tonight. “Not being able to see will stir your attention to what you feel.” He leans in and, as if he’d read my mind, caresses my cheek, my neck, down to my collarbone. “And I want you to feel everything tonight.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

If he continues like this, he won’t get the chance to use any of his toys as I’ll be riding him to the heavens and back in two minutes at the latest.

Chuckling, he pulls his hand back, and I begin to suspect that he probably did hear my thoughts.

“I did, which is good. It means I can better gauge how you’re doing.”

I send him the mental image of a stuck-out tongue.

“And that I’ll be doing, too.”

There’s no way to win this, is there?

Turning my attention back to the toys in front of me, I notice something’s missing. “No restraining?” I ask, confused. That’s what made him open up to me about all this in the first place, after all, how turned on I get when he keeps me pinned.

“Oh, you won’t be moving anywhere,” he purrs, his shadows sliding up my legs and pulling my thighs apart. My breath hitches, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a damp spot on the blanket now from my soaked underwear. “But unless you specifically want to use the leather cuffs or ropes, I don’t need anything but my signet.”

Swallowing hard, I follow the retreating shadows with my eyes. “But I thought they aren’t as reliable,” I ask, recalling previous incidents where his restraints faltered when he lost himself to pleasure. Not that I mind, I love seeing him lose control with me. “Isn’t that why you have those things?”

Xaden becomes eerily quiet in an instant, his expression more serious than I have seen it in a bedroom in a long time. “Violet, this will be different from our usual nights. Usually, when we sleep together, we’re both tumbling down that road, together. We’re dragging each other further down, but if need be, either of us could stop at any moment and pull the other out of it, too.

“This is something else. This is… if we do this, then you’re giving up any and all control, trusting me to take care of you. You won’t tumble, you’ll potentially be in free fall, relying solely on me to catch you. My shadows will be restraints enough because I won’t lose control. I mustn’t. If I were to lose control tonight, then I failed you. I won’t let that happen.”

I can only stare at him, openmouthed. Slowly, I begin to realise what this is. It’s not just spicier sex. No, the sex is actually only the icing, the more important part being the ties we build, our relationship. Being able to let go, to trust completely, and to be worthy of this trust in return.

Slowly, I reach for his hand and card my fingers through his, then raise our joined hands to brush my lips against his. ”I trust you, Xaden,” I murmur as I try to send what I feel for him through our bond. All my love for him, that warm fuzziness only he makes me feel, the iron clad knowledge that he’ll always have my back. “You won’t let me fall.”

For the fraction of a second, Xaden’s eyes widen. Then, before I can react, he breached the distance between us and is kissing me. His free hand slides to the back of my neck, and I hum against his lips, my eyes fluttering shut at the exquisiteness of his mouth against my own. I’ll never get enough of this, of his lips, so soft and yet unyielding, his tongue claiming every inch of me, his low groans rumbling deep in his chest. It’s perfect.

But it’s also different, I notice. It’s not that he’s withholding anything, but I still feel the control he spoke of, how he dominates our kiss instead of the usual back and forth.

I can’t say I don’t like it.

“I love you, Violence,” he murmurs against my lips as we part, his forehead pressed against mine. “Gods, I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

Smiling, I raise my hand to caress his face. “I love you, too.” Maybe I’ll never know about all the demons of his past that still haunt him, but I don’t need to. It’s enough to know who he is, deep inside.

Xaden turns his head to brush a featherlike kiss against my fingertips, then pulls back, his eyes soft with emotions. “So, if you don’t have any other questions…?” I shake my head, my heartbeat quickening in anticipation. “Right. Then you only need to pick a safe word and we can get started.”

We’ve talked about safe words before, for various situations, to set boundaries. But I know this should be something else, something we’ll only use in this situation. So I’ve thought about it before and already came up with an idea I know Xaden will love.

“How about Squadleader?” I ask, grinning mischievously.

Xaden snorts a short laugh. “Yeah, right. If you think of him tonight then I definitely did something wrong.” He shakes his head, but I can see the humour glinting in his eyes. A part of him, the part that hates my former best friend, delights in my choice. “But it works. And remember: While I might check in on how you’re doing, I won’t stop. Not until I think you had enough or you use this safe word. Understood?”

I nod, but he shakes his head. “Say it. Use your words.”

I take a shaky breath. “Understood.”

“Very good.” He stands and places the toys onto the bedside table, and I can practically see the shift in him. “Now, come here. Stand and hold very still.”

I do as I’m told, curious to see how this will go. So far, our shared nights have always been wild, uncontrollable. Explosive, as he once described it. This calm and controlled version of him has always been the Wingleader and not my… whatever we are at this point. Mates?

When he touches me, though, all my worries evaporate. He cradles my face in his palms then lets them glide down to the back of my neck, like he’s done a hundred times by now, and kisses me. And even though the kiss is more controlled than usual, it’s no less heated. His tongue swipes through my mouth, claiming, demanding, and whatever resistance I might have felt melts away within seconds.

“That’s it, Vi. Relax for me.”

A shudder runs down my spine and my eyes flutter closed as he moves his fingers into my hair and expertly detangles my tightly fixed braid.

“I… I thought my hair is too distracting for you?” I ask, a little breathless already. With him all around me like this, I can’t help but deeply inhale his minty scent, and I have to fight not to ignore his first order and lean in toward his neck, to kiss and lick and suck and—

“Mmh,” Xaden hums, tearing me from my thoughts. “Usually, it is. Which is why I had to do this first. If I can stay in control with your hair down, then I can do this.” He runs his finger across my scalp and through my hair, down my neck, along my jaw and brushing against my ears. His touch makes me shiver, goosebumps running across my arms, and I mewl, feeling weirdly exposed yet safe beneath his touch.

He’s definitely in control. And I love it.

“Turn around.”

It’s an order and I follow. But it’s different from when he gives orders outside this room, warmer, deeper.

With great care, he unlaces my corset and puts it aside, then steps in front of me again. In his hand, he holds the black scarf. “Is this okay for you?”

I blink, surprised that he asks, but then nod.

“Use your words! Are you comfortable with me blindfolding you?”

A new shudder runs down my spine and my head spins. “Yes, I am.”

“Good.” He wraps the silken band around my head, once, twice. He makes sure to cover my eyes thoroughly, but only them, tying the ends into a tight knot above my ear.

As he works, a thought crosses my mind, and I can’t help but ask. “Why the scarf, though? Couldn’t you use your shadows for this, too?”

He huffs a quick laugh. “I could. But…” He leans closer, his mouth brushing against my ear. “I like the look of this better. It’s hot.”

Then he takes my hands and tugs me forward. “Come here. Onto the bed. Lie down on your back.”

With his guidance, I find the right position. It’s odd, I thought this would be awkward, weird, even funny, maybe. But it’s not. I’ve never felt so vulnerable and exposed, even with my clothes still on, yet at the same time so at ease. I know I’m safe with him.

“Now, arms over your head. Legs slightly spread. Yeah, just like that. Are you comfortable?”

I nod, then remember his earlier command. “Yes.”

“Good girl.” The little praise and his pat on my thigh do funny things to me, my breath hitching audibly, and I nearly miss the smile in his voice. I jump a little as his hand cradles my cheek, but then instantly lean into his touch. His skin against mine, it feels so good.

“I will restrain you now,” he informs me. The sober words should feel cold, clinical, but they have the opposite effect on me, my heart beating faster and heat pooling in my stomach. I know I can only feel the shadows because he wants it that way as they curl around my wrists and ankles. A moment later, the sensation is gone, but when I try to move, I can’t.

I yelp as, suddenly, the mattress beneath me drops away.

“It’s alright,” Xaden’s calm voice assures me. “I just lifted you off the bed so I can better remove your clothes.”

I frown but don’t say anything. Why didn’t he strip me when I was standing? Or let me do it, for that matter. However, a few heartbeats later, I get my answer.

Slowly, so excruciating slowly, my tunic glides across my skin. I can only guess that he’s using his shadows again to slide it off me, because his hands and mouth are otherwise engaged. I suck in a shaky breath as he explores every inch of exposed skin, thoroughly, kissing, nipping, licking me, every little contact sending little darts of pleasure into my core. He was right, not being able to see—and this entire setting, really—makes everything more intense.

“Xaden!” I moan when he reaches the lower edge of my ribs. This pace is killing me.

But Xaden only chuckles. “Patience, Violence. We have aaaaall night.” I groan when he finds a particularly sensitive spot, and he lingers there even longer, drawing slow circles with his thumbs on my skin.

He skips over my still bound breasts and moves on to my collarbones and then my arms, all the way up to my wrists and then back down again, to my shoulders, my neck. By the time he dips his tongue into my mouth, I’m a whimpering mess.

“Xaden, please,” I mewl between his slow kisses. “I… I need…”

Xaden shakes his head, his smile tangible against my lips. “All you need to do, Violet, is to relax. Whether you come or not, when you come, it’s not your concern tonight.”

My moan gets swallowed by his kiss. It’s not as heated or wild as our usual kisses, but no less intense. Xaden is fully in control, of himself but also of me. I want to kiss him back, but I can’t even lift my head to deepen the kiss or twist it for a better angle. I only get what he deigns to give, when he deigns to give it—and it’s hot.

He continues with my trousers, going just as slowly as before. His broad hands and soft lips glide down on the outside of my legs, then up again on the inside. It’s unbearably sweet, the way pleasure trickles through my body at his every action. Not enough to fuel anything but never giving me a break, either.

I’m almost content with him teasing me like this for a while when he finally reaches the apex of my thighs. Surely, he’s as impatient as I am by now. After all, I know him well enough. But instead of touching—let alone kissing—me the way I want, the way I need… Xaden merely blows a kiss onto my damp slip and moves higher again.

“F-fuck! Xaden, please!” I beg. I’m able to squirm beneath his touch now, so he must have loosened his restraints on my body a bit. But not enough for me to rub my thighs together or to arch up into his touch. “I can’t…”

“Of course, you can take it,” he murmurs, his breath tickling. He’s making his way around my belly button at this point, placing open-mouthed kisses against my hypersensitive skin. It’s driving me insane. “All you need to do is to give in.”

I whimper. I hear his words, but even though they seem to make sense, I don’t know what to do. How can I relax or give in when he’s constantly teasing me, flooding my body with sensations? Right now, he’s kissing his way along the seam of my silken black slip and I can’t cope.

“Xaden!” I mewl, pleading, but I already know he won’t comply. He said it himself, he won’t stop. Not unless I use my safe word. But as quickly as that thought crossed my mind, I’m already discarding it again. Because I don’t want him to stop, I realise. It makes bearing his delicious torture easier.

I manage to calm down a bit, to simply take his teasing, let it wash through me, and find relief in a different way; moaning freely, vocalising what I feel.

A shudder runs through Xaden’s broad frame above me, and he sighs. “That’s it, Violence. Just give in. Give yourself over to me.”

I want to. So I do it. Somehow, I’m sliding deeper into my own body, leaving the world outside for him to take care of.

. o O o .

Xaden

I feel the shift in Violet’s mind as clearly as I can see it. The way her whirling thoughts grow calmer, her body relaxes. She’s ready for more.

Without ever breaking contact with her skin, I move up, using my hands this time to loosen her wrappings and remove them, seeking the more intimate contact of skin against skin. Violet merely sighs as her breasts are freed, and I palm them immediately. They’re bigger than her wrappings and corset would suggest, still note huge but on her smaller frame, they look perfect.

“You’re doing so well,” I murmur as I gently knead her, my thumbs drawing circles around her nipples, getting closer and tighter with every round. Violet arches up into my touch and moans a little louder, but that’s all. No more pleading for more, to go faster. She’s not quite where I want her, but she’s on a good way. “Let me take care of you.”

She mewls and there’s a flicker of thought through our bond. Not words, but a sense of compliance, and I smile.

Gods, she’s so beautiful, in every way. Perfect. I take a moment to admire her, how she lies in front of me, completely open and unguarded.

When I see her there, lying on my bed in that submissive position and completely open for me to take her, a strange sense of calmness spreads in my stomach.

I expected this to be difficult. Usually, just being near her makes me hard, and every little touch or smile or unconscious movement prompts the urge to tear her clothes off and fuck her until neither of us can think straight anymore.

But instead, my heartbeat and breathing level out, my mind stops its constant whirling and settles on the here and now. On the woman that gave me her trust. On the woman I love.

I gasp at the sudden rush I feel. That’s always been it. Her trust in me, even against her mother or Aetos. It’s what destroyed my already crumbling resistance to the feelings I had for her. And now, she let’s me have her like this, granting me this ultimate trust.

I won’t fail her.

I lean over her to taste her breasts. It’s something I rarely do, rarely get the chance for. Usually, we’re fucking like animals before we even shed all of our clothes, and it’s not that I don’t enjoy that. Fuck, sex with her is… it’s more than anything else I ever experienced. Deeper, meaningful, more intense. The joining of our hearts and souls along with our bodies.

But having her like this for once, without any hurry, my driving need contained in that neat little box somewhere deep inside me… It’s amazing. I hope she let’s me do this again every now and then. And it’s more intense than when I did this with other partners before, too. With none of them, my feelings were even remotely close to what I feel for her. She’s everything.

I let my tongue swirl around her nipple and suck on it, lightly, while my hand works on her other breast, rolling and plucking at the rosy bud. I could do this forever, just indulging in worshipping her body, tasting her, feeling her warmth, surrounded by that intoxicating floral scent of hers. But the litany of moans and cries that drop off her lips, growing in urgency the longer I play, tells me she’s had enough.

“I’ll remove your slip now,” I inform her, but she barely reacts. It’s easy, my shadows moving her legs until the soaked piece of black lace and silk is on the floor, and I can comfortably settle between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so wet, glistening with her arousal. My throat goes dry with the urge to taste, to drink her down like a delicate wine. But not yet.

I kneel on the bed, her legs draped over my thighs, and let my hands glide across her skin. Her moans grow shorter, louder, her breathing quickening as I draw circles with my thumbs, growing closer to her centre with every round. I’ve reached her outer lips, moving them back and forth, when she starts squirming again, and I pause. “Don’t fight it,” I murmur. “Just let it happen. You don’t have to do anything, Violet. I’ve got you.”

She whimpers, and her legs, her entire body really, start to tremble with how tense she grows. I wait, rubbing her outer thighs in comfort. Eventually, she goes pliant again, and I sigh. “Very good. You’re such a good girl for me, letting me take care of you.”

I continue my earlier motion, massaging her outer lips until she’s positively dripping. Dragging my fingers through her wetness and listening to her high-pitched yelp, I bring some of her arousal to my mouth, moaning around my fingers at her taste. Fuck! She truly is the most delicious treat, addictive, so satisfying. I could drown in her and not complain for a second.

Just a little longer, I tell myself, suppressing the urge to simply devour her to my heart’s desire.

My fingers move further, teasing at her entrance and inching closer to her clit. But aside from her legs twitching on occasion, she doesn’t react, doesn’t buck her hips into my touch, doesn’t stiffen. Even when I start to draw circles around that sensitive little bud, her body stays pliant, her only reaction the raise in volume of her cries. She’s ready.

Exhaling deeply, I get off the bed and move her to the edge of the mattress. Then I sink down onto my knees in front of her, like she deserves, and lift her legs above my shoulder. Let the game start for real.

Without any more hesitation, I lean in and drag my tongue across her sex, all the way from her entrance up to her clit. Her taste is like an explosion in my mind, nearly breaking me, and her moan, the deepest and most urgent one yet, could easily kill me with its sweetness. Fuck, this is so good.

I take my time devouring her. I’m not going slowly or only tease her. No, we’re past that point. But I know what I’m doing, know her well enough to find the line I want to lead her on. So I push my tongue into her, exploring her insides and stimulating all those sensitive nerves around her entrance, and I play with her clit, suckling, biting, nibbling, writing my love letters into her heated flesh.

But I’m careful not to push her too far.

I don’t want her to come, not yet. I want to keep her on that edge of madness, want the pleasure to mount in her until her body can barely contain it anymore, to fill her with it.

So I keep going. My hands are on her ass or wrapped around her waist, holding her in place for me, my mind focused solely on her. On her pleasure, her body, the sense of mindless desire I get through our bond. Drinking in her juices and her delicious cries and moans, I groan as my cock pushes against my leathers. I’m not a machine, after all, and Violet is just too sexy not to react to, especially like this. But I shove my own desire aside. This is only about her.

Her body grows taut again, but I know it’s not her doing. It’s her body, her nerves burning with need as she trembles all over, and her moans shift to an endless row of short desperate sobs.

Outside, lightning cracks in front of my window.

Finally!

I allow myself a grin against her skin as more and more lighting strikes follow. Violet got so good at controlling her signet, lately. Making her lose control is… well, it’s fucking hot, that’s what it is.

But it also means I reached my goal.

“You’re doing amazing, love,” I growl. “Time to reward you.”

I bring my hand to her entrance, and my fingers glide inside her with no resistance. Fuck, she’s so slick, pulsing hot. She tightens at the intrusion, her walls clenched hard around my fingers. As if she’s sucking me in deeper. I can’t fucking wait to get inside her.

Later.

Smiling to myself, I crook my finger, bringing them just where I want them to be. Violet screams at the first brush against that spot, but I don’t give her time to process. I pull my fingers out directly and shove them back in, again and again, fucking her on my fingers, hard. Pushing against that spot inside her over and over as I harshly suck on her clit. No holding back anymore.

“Come for me,” I command into her mind. And she does.

Her scream echoes through the night, and the entire room rattles with the power she unleashes, her body spasming with her release. I wrap my free arm around her waist to hold her in place as I push her through it, feverishly giving her everything I can. More licking and sucking, drinking her down, and more fingerfucking with her walls clenching so tight it’s almost painful.

The night sky is all but constantly illuminated with her lightning, but I don’t pay it any mind anymore, my entire focus on Violet only. On how her body convulses with pleasure, how her scent permeates the entire room, her wanton screams and cries like music.

They grow quieter as her orgasm ends, but no less intriguing, urgent wailing as her body tries to come down from its height but can’t. Like so often when I go down on her, I don’t stop after her first orgasm, knowing how easily I can push her right into a second one. And today is no different.

It takes only seconds before her body gives in to the inevitable and she comes again on my tongue. It’s sweeter this time, a little softer after the explosive first round, but no less beautiful. This time, I only push her through it with my fingers, her inner walls fluttering around me, and I lift my head to watch her fall apart.

Fuck, she’s so beautiful. Almost radiating with the afterglow as her body sinks into the sheets like a puddle of pure bliss, a soft smile tilting her lips.

I keep my fingers moving inside her, but slower, not aiming to push her yet, and move to sit beside her. “Violet? Are you okay?”

Her breath hitches as if I startled her, and she giggles, like she’s not fully here with me. “Xa-xaden? Yeah, I… I’m good.” She giggles again. “That was… fuck… fucking amazing.”

My lips tilt into a half smirk. “That’s good to hear. But we’re far from done, Violence. This was merely the warm-up.”

Her breath hitches again, her body angling itself to where my weight depressed the mattress. “You didn’t think I’d leave it at two, did you?” I breathe into her ear.

A shudder runs along her body, a soft mewl slipping off her lips. “Xaden, I… I don’t kn—”

“But I know,” I interrupt her firmly. Staying in this old role with her is easier than I thought. Because I know she won’t have any qualms about using her safe word if it really gets too much for her. This is the woman who casually threw daggers at my head only a few months ago, for fuck’s sake. “You can take more, a lot more.” I palm her breast with my free hand, teasingly, and she whimpers, her hips rocking into my hand. “See? And you don’t even have to do anything, just let me take care of you.”

She whimpers again, but still leans into my touch as I caress her cheek, and her body becomes pliant again.

“Yeah, that’s it, Violet. Just let go.”

I lean down to brush my lips against her mouth, and my tongue dips between her instantly parted lips. A soft moan vibrates in her chest as she can probably taste herself on me, so sweet and sultry. There’s nothing I wouldn’t give her, wouldn’t do for her.

“I love you so much.”

There’s a flicker along our bond, but no words from her. Merely the sense of an echo of mine.

Smiling, I let my shadows reach for the toys. It’s time for round three.

. o O o .

Violet

Not being able to see is… an experience.

I’ve rarely been scared of the dark, and now with Xaden controlling the shadows, they’ve almost become something like a friend to me. So I thought, being blindfolded wouldn’t make such a difference, not when I can feel what happens anyway.

But this is nothing like I expected it to be. Feeling what he does means in no way understanding it, too. Like when there are suddenly two mouths suckling on my breasts. If the situation was different, I might have thought more about it. I’m sure he wouldn’t invite someone else without asking me, so that can’t be it. His shadows, maybe? But are they really this nimble?

A cry tears itself from my chest and all thoughts fly out of my head as the sucking grows stronger, harsher, something like tongues flicking against my nipples, over and over. Not being distracted by seeing makes the sensation so much more intense, and with how sensitive my body already is after Xaden’s earlier build-up, the only things left in my mind are More! Yes! Xaden! Fuck!

I hear him chuckle, briefly wondering whether I sent those thoughts through our bond, but ultimately, I don’t care. Not when pleasure coils deep in my guts, my mind growing hazy again. It’s a lovely feeling, not having to think. All I have to do is feel, and it’s more liberating than anything before.

Just like before, I start drifting, floating in an ocean of pleasure. I can’t control the ups and downs, only go with them, trusting in that he won’t let me drown.

My orgasm hits me out of nowhere, like a wave pulling me under, with no lead-up—or at least I didn’t notice any. I think I’m screaming as pleasure like fire burns through my veins and explodes in my mind, wiping it blank. I can’t feel my body clenching or shaking, don’t know what happens. There’s only this ocean, only me floating and waiting for the next wave, only bliss.

I want it to never end.

. o O o .

Xaden

I watch in awe as Violet comes, her back arching off the bed with her orgasm’s intensity. She didn’t feel it coming, just like I planned. I keep fucking her with the dildo in my hand until she comes down, then leave it to my shadow to keep moving the toy, slowing but never stopping.

My eyes catch on the suction toys fixed to her breasts, once again marvelling at their ingenuity. They work similar to our pens, containing shards of polomiellian gems to amplify minor magics, and it baffled me the first time I heard about these, but ultimately, it makes sense. Sex toys that, fuelled by a Rider’s lesser magic, can execute specific functions should be a very niche product given how small the target group is. But then, Riders have never been an inhibited lot, sex in all flavours is pretty common, and more often than not the motto seems to be The Kinkier The Better. And given that they also make the top of the social and economical structure, it’s no wonder craftspeople cater to their needs.

Either way, I’m not complying. These toys certainly fulfil their purpose. Violet was so focused on the intense stimulation on her tits that she barely noticed the toy moving in her pussy.

I lick some of her juices off my drenched hand—so delicious!—then wipe away the rest on a towel before carefully removing the toys from her breasts. Violet whimpers at their loss and I chuckle. Such a needy little thing, she is.

I let the automatism run out, then put them aside to replace them with my own mouth and hands on her skin. She’s so warm, so soft. I let my lips glide over her, tasting her sweat and listening to her sweet little noises. Comforting her after her climax and leading her to her next.

Still worshipping her every curve and hollow, I let my hand glide down her body and between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so wet. Of course she is, it shouldn’t surprise me. And yet, it does, throwing me off a little every time again. Just knowing that this is the reaction she had on what I do, what I give her. What she lets me give to her. It’s heady.

My fingers find her swollen clit and draw gentle circles around it, my head resting on her chest. Breathing her in and listening to how her heartbeat quickens with the next build-up.

For this round, I use a different dildo than before, a slightly curved one to better hit her g-spot, and a vibrating bead that’s clamped to her clit to get her off. I want her to feel it coming this time, want her waiting for it. Want to hear those breathy little sounds right before she shatters.

It’s as beautiful as ever, the way she shakes and arches, her noises, that wave of satisfaction, both mine and hers through our bond. I could watch her come undone in my bed forever and never tire of it. Lightning cracks, and I smile.

Next, I add a smaller dildo, slowly working it into her ass after preparing her thoroughly. Her moans turn higher, shorter with the fullness, her scream as she falls apart beautifully desperate. I can practically see how her muscles clench around the two toys moving inside her, and the sight is nearly enough to make me spill into my underwear.

I let my shadows move the toys for me and kiss her, fucking her mouth with my tongue. Stealing her breath and swallowing her muffled screams.

I switch out the toys against other, bigger ones, trying and testing what gets her and what not, combining different sensations, stimulations, keeping count on how many times she comes.

There is one combination in particular, one I memorise for future nights, that makes Violet go positively feral. One of the suction toys from before is fixed to her clit, its little ‘tongue’ moving quickly along with the gradually growing suction. In addition, I’m using another dildo, a magically fueled one this time, it’s bulbous head vibrating inside her.

I hoped this would be a good round. But when Violet comes—so quickly that it takes me by surprise for a change—her scream is louder, harsher than all others before, and she writhes so fiercely that I actually have to put effort into keeping her restrained. Outside, the night is bright as day with her lightning, thunder rolling like an avalanche across the keep. We’ll probably have some explaining to do tomorrow.

The power of her orgasm takes me by surprise, too, and before I know it, it rolls over into another one, just as devastating. It leaves her sobbing, her chest heaving, and I take a longer break than usual to comfort her after this, shifting her so I can curl around her, whispering sweet nothings into her ear until she calms down again.

It takes many hours, but eventually, it comes to an end. I can feel it in our bond just like I can see it in the way she sinks into the bed, hear it in the slight strain beneath her moans. She probably has another two or three orgasms in her if I were to push for it, but they wouldn’t be as pleasurable as I want them to be. She’s had enough.

For the first time this night, I remove all toys from her body, my hands only soothingly rubbing along her sides.

“We’re done, Violet. You did amazing.” She doesn’t react, but I didn’t expect her to. “I’m going to remove the blindfold now, then I’ll clean you up.”

After placing the black scarf back onto the bedside table with the other toys, I get one of the heat-preserving buckets full of water from the bathing room and, using the softest sponge I can get my hands on, wash the sweat and the sex off her skin. I start at her feet, slowly working my way up. I’m in no hurry, enjoying the aftercare even more than I expected. It’s just so peaceful, so intimate. Only when I reach the top of her legs, I move a bit quicker, more efficiently as I clean her up between her thighs. She’s so over-sensitive, no need to linger there longer than necessary.

By the time I reach her breasts, her eyes are open and she watches me through tired but clear eyes.

“Hey there,” I murmur, and I can’t help myself, I have to reach for her, to caress her cheek and brush aside a sweaty strand of her gorgeous hair. “How are you feeling?”

I’m rewarded with the softest of smiles. “Tired? But good tired. That was… wow!” Her eyes flutter shut, and she sighs.

I lean in and brush a kiss against her forehead. “Then you should sleep. We can talk tomorrow.”

Violet frowns and fights to open her eyes again. “But… but what about you?”

“I’m good.” I chuckle. I’m more than good. “I’ll just finish cleaning you up and head to the bathing room myself, then I’ll be with you again.”

Something flickers in her eyes, understanding probably, but she doesn’t have the strength to protest anymore. “Okay,” she breathes. She’s asleep oly a few heartbeats later.

Smiling to myself, I do just what I told her, taking care of myself to the memories of her coming undone in the bathing room, and quickly return to my room, cuddling against her back. In her sleep, she sighs and burrows deeper into my embrace.

I’m asleep before I can take a full breath of her delicious scent.

. o O o .

I wake up when Violet does, her typical morning twitching and little noises giving her away. With my nose buried in her hair, I take a moment to bask in holding her. I really am the fucking luckiest man alive.

Violet chuckles, the vibrations against my front doing funny things to me. “Hey.”

“Hey,” I reply, and my arm that casually lay around her waist tightens in reflex. But this is not the time. “How are you feeling?”

Violet hums. She turns on her back and stretches, and I pull my arms away to give her space. “I feel like my bones are made of jelly,” she giggles. “But I’m good. Great, even. Last night was… well, that was truly something else.”

I prop myself up on my elbow. “So, you liked it?”

Something flares in her eyes, something that makes my cock twitch in response. Fuck, what is it about her that makes it impossible to control myself when she’s around?

“I’m not sure ‘like’ is the right word. It’s too tame. It was… was... mind-blowing. Literally. I mean—” she laughs, a little bewildered— “I hardly remember most of the night. Only the ocean of pleasure, me drifting without control, and… and that, despite that, I was never afraid.” She gives me a soft smile that makes something inside my chest melt. “Oh, and I lost count pretty quickly. What’s the score?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. Leave it to Violet to be that one of her first questions. “What do you think?”

She shrugs. “Given how weak my muscles are, I’d say… somewhere around seven? Definitely more than the four I remember somewhat clearly.”

I can’t help myself and grin. Leaning down and nuzzling against her neck, I purr, “You came twelve times last night.”

Violet sucks in a surprised breath, then huffs it out again in one short laugh. “Guess that explains a lot. Twelve times…?” She shakes her head. “Fuck, that’s going to be hard to beat.”

I can’t help myself, I fall onto my back, laughing freely. I swear, this woman will one day be the death of me. But I love how untroubled I can feel around her, as if our biggest problem in this world is merely breaking our own sex marathon record.

“I take it you’re not opposed to doing it again, then?” I ask once I caught my breath again. It’s not that I expect her to be against it, but I still need to hear her say it, for my own peace of mind.

A blush spreads across her pale cheeks and she averts her face, brushing a random strand of hair out of her face. “Yeah, I’d… like to do this again. And maybe you can show me what some of those other toys are used for, too? But… maybe not every time?”

At her words, unbidden images flood my mind, of all the ways I could bring her pleasure, could make her scream, could make her body fall apart beneath my hands. But it’s those last words that make me turn toward her and brush a kiss against her soft lips. “I couldn’t have put it into better words,” I whisper against her mouth. Gods, all the things I’d like to show her, to try with her. But also… “Wouldn’t want to miss out on our wild nights.”

Violet chuckles, then pulls me into a deeper kiss, and I let her. I let her angle my head, let her place my hands on her waist, let her pull me closer until I’m on top of her, my weight barely held up on one arm. I’d let her do anything to me.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on that, one day.” she hums into my mind, and a shiver runs down my spine. Fuck, do I love this woman.

As our kiss grows deeper, more heated, I let my hand glide over her body, along her neck, squeezing at her breasts, and down her side to her hip. When I reach her thigh, Violet parts her legs to let me settle between them, and I lift it up and around my waist, grinding into her.

“Xaden,” she mewls as my cock glides along her slick folds. “Need you. Now.” She reaches between us and grabs at my cock, guiding me to her entrance. A flicker of “slow down” crosses my mind, but it’s gone in an instant again when she uses her legs around my waist to pull me in, and I sink into her velvety heat.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” I growl, my head dropping against her, my mind empty except for fuck yes more!

Violet whimpers, pained, but when I want to pull out, she shakes her head. “Just a little sore,” she gasps. “Go on. Slowly.”

Sighing, I do exactly that. Rolling my hips in the most unhurried of circles, I work my way into her, inch by inch, while my lips find hers again. I want to taste her moans, want to feel the vibrations of her groans as I push deeper and deeper until I bottom out inside her.

Violet sighs, and I swear I could come from that sound alone, so content, so soft. It nearly breaks me.

Keeping the slow pace, partially to regain at least some of my sanity, I pull out and push in again, my mouth never leaving hers. Her hands glide along my back, our tongues moving together in some unknown dance, sensual and so alluring. A part of me wants to stay in this moment forever, but my body demands otherwise.

Only gradually, we pick up speed, her heels against my ass spurring me on. Eventually though, holding the kiss isn’t possible anymore, but while I regret losing that contact, watching Violet writhe beneath me is just as good.

“Fuck, yes!” she moans after I adjust her legs around my waist and thrust into her at a better angle.

The bed is sturdy but still creaks with the force of our movements, the headboard slamming against the stone wall with every thrust. But I don’t care. All that matters is her, this, how tights she becomes around me, her needy moans, the way she clutches at my back and moves her hips to take me even deeper.

It's an uncontrolled frenzy, and I love every second of it.

I groan, my balls growing tight. “Violet!” I’m so close, won’t be able to hold back much longer. My movements become harsher, needy, and with my last strings of control, I focus on grinding myself against her clit, on giving her that tiny extra bit she needs to—

“Xa-xaden!”

Her cry tears through me like a lightning bolt, her clenching walls shredding my last bits of control. With a roar that might or might not be her name, I fuck into her with no restraints, losing myself in the rush of pleasure, in her, in how she quakes, spending myself into her lovely heat in a moment of pure madness.

I slump down next to her, both of us gasping for breath. And as we lie there, trying to regain control of our bodies, I realise something.

Staying in control has become an integral part of my life, of my self. Be it as a Wingleader, as a shadow wielder, as the one responsible for a hundred and seven innocent lives, or as being the dominant with most of my sex partners; being in control has always been vital.

Except for Violet. With her, I’ve never been in control. Right from that first moment on that turret, she’d challenged me, had kept me on my toes, made me question myself. Only with her, I don’t mind tumbling freely. Only with her, I don’t mind losing control.

With a serene calmness in my heart, I crane my neck and brush a kiss onto her hair. “I love you.”

And with a knowing look in her eyes, she smiles back at me. “I love you, too.”

. o O o .

AN: Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing. ☺️

And if you have the time, I'd love to get comments. What are your thoughts, what was your fav part? I need to knooooow. 😆

[bright-and-burning]

sending you a yapping ask... ofc i know youre a passionate landoscar flag waver but i'm curious about what other ships you like?

oooooooo… honestly might be faster to ask me what ships i don’t like. that is only half a joke… general tier list of ships goes like.

landoscar (my leetle guys… my two sharp toothed sopping wet kittens in a tattered cardboard box that i find half in the gutter behind my apartment…) is like the top most tier. their hold on me is unshakeable.

things i will almost always click on: jendo, markoscar, those two in other interesting configurations, nortrell, nortrell+oscar, maxf + oscar... but ok honestly if a mutual recommends it i will click p much regardless of ship unless it’s one of my few Absolutely Nots akdhskdh

and then i like many Other lando and oscar ships… ill read some loscar, 2019 rookies in various shapes (triangles, sides of triangles, besties), nico r/lando (listen. hear me out. anyone else seen All Those Clips? yeah.). fernando/either of them. i am kind of intrigued by lando/lance which is out of left field i know but ive read a couple fics… i fuck w the vibes… i want to examine the vibes under a microscope… that’s less high up on the list tho bc of the sheer rarity. norstappen sometimes hits but i gotta be in the right mood. uhhhh there’s honestly only like two ships w them that i am Quite Hesitant to click on (like i need it to be written by a trusted mutual, or come recommended by 3+ trusted mutuals, etc) that fall into this category and they’re both w the same guy 😭 sorry 2 that man…

outside of the realm of mclaren slutting it up! pierreste is like . probably on the same level as like jendo and markoscar 2 me. fernando/lance (i accidentally wrote lando here on rhyming autopilot) a centimeter lower. the centimeter there is caused by like . i could write pierreste i don’t think i could write fernando/lance w any sort of realism/good voices involved. but i love seeing them be freaks on the dash. charlos when im in a mood ! the catholicism and religious-tinged devotion of ferrari as themes (and in reality) freaks me out sometimes tho so the stars reaaaally have to align for that. galex as a treat on occasion! logex (or whatever the fuck it’s called. have i mentioned i dislike portmanteaus .) HITSSSSS but rn it makes me Very Sad so. yuki/many people bc i love him but lowkey yuki/liam… chefs kiss ba dum tss. PRINCESS CAKE WHICH I JUST REMEMBERED EXISTS. martian… lots of older ships actually!! brocedes but less frequently for Weird Headspace reasons. who has the tag that’s like “never beating the polycule allegations” that’s for the 2010s grid cuz that’s how i feel abt those ships . mix em all up im sure ill like what comes out.

the “bc of my friends <3” category includes uh. glance, which i will absolutely read when it’s brought to my attention and support the mutuals in their endeavors (including reading + reblogging their fic/web weaves/etc) but tend to kind of . let slip from my mind otherwise. piarles is in that same boat. sebchal a little lower on the “will read” priority list. probably more that i am forgetting; it is very hard for a fic to be something ill Never read (so long as it’s written by a friend at least) it just might take me longer to get around to it

and then there’s the like. i am deeply intrigued but have never delved into them category, which is like. hulk/kmag. valtteri/zhou guanyu. like i see things of them on the dash and im like . wow there is something deeply psychosexual going on here . but have never gone deeper…

lots of the ships i missed are probably more like. i am intrigued (not deeply so) and have read a few fics that made me crazy but never quite caught the bug. there’s maybe . a handful of ships i generally dislike and they’re for very silly reasons mostly lol