#where he will inevitably be found and sent back somewhere he Does Not Want To Go Or Talk Or Think About. so nine can’t leave him.

[quietwingsinthesky]

the human au doctors are all ambiguously from Not Great Home Situations but i think twelve specifically was having a terrible time as a foster kid and decided this little gang of weirdos would be his new family

[kneecapsbelong2me]

Flufftober Day 1

Masterlist (tbd)

@flufftober

Prompt: Lost Pet Meet Cute

Pairing: Kate Bishop x Reader (no pronouns used)

Summary: You find a dog sitting directly in your path one morning. You don’t expect his owner to be even cuter than he is.

Word Count: ~450

Warnings: none, just fluff :)

A/N: Am I 20+ days late for Flufftober? Yes. Does it matter? No :)

———————————————————————

When you decided to go to Central Park, of course you thought you’d see some dogs. It was inevitable—as sure as the the sun rising every morning.

What you weren’t expecting, was for a golden retriever to run up to you, leash hanging from his neck, with no owner you could see. He ran up to you and sat in front of you, blocking your path.

“Hey boy.” You took him in. He was missing an eye, but he was clearly well taken care of. The dog cocked his head to one side. “Where’s your owner bud?”

The dog didn’t respond except by remaining perfectly still. You looked around. No one was paying any attention to you. Okay, so this was kind of weird.

“Did you run away?” You held out a hand to let him sniff you.

He immediately gave you a long lick and barked. You giggled.

“Lucky! Lucky, where are you?”

Turning around, you caught sight of a woman around your age running toward you, looking frantic. Your breath caught in your throat. She was gorgeous. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, perfectly showing off her face and her blue eyes. The tanktop she was wearing perfectly showed off her toned arms, and you could see some abs poking out as it rode up.

To stop yourself from staring too hard, you turned back to the dog.

“Is that your mom, Lucky?”

Lucky barked happily, tail pounding the sidewalk. He made no attempts to move towards his owner. You reached for his leash and turned to face the woman,

“Hey, is this your dog?”

Her eyes went wide and she paused for a second before responding, “yes! Thank you so so so much for finding him.”

You shrugged. “He found me.” You handed the woman Lucky’s leash.

“Well still. The least I can do is treat you to a coffee. Are you free now?” Her dazzling smile sent your heart fluttering.

Her question left you stunned. “Uh—yes. Yes I am.” Surely she was just being friendly.

“Great. It’s a date.” The wink and smirk she gave you were anything but friendly.

“A date?”

“Only if you want to,” she rushed out. “Sorry, it seemed like you were interested—“

“No! Yes.” You took a deep breath, “I am very interested.”

“Awesome.” The woman tugged on your arm with her free hand and began leading you somewhere, seemingly in a random direction. “I’m Kate, by the way. I feel like I should’ve mentioned that before asking you out.”

You shook your head lightly and laughed. You had a feeling that this was the beginning of something good and that you’d be telling the story of how you met Kate for years to come.

[himbo-aficionado]

I just think its interesting how at the very end of the story, we see Merlin walking past Avalon, the place where he sent off Arthur all those centuries ago. There are many different ways the scene could've went on to display his everlasting loyalty. It easily could've been a scene where maybe Merlin was with his wife and a kid who was named after Arthur, or he became a historian/scholar who kept the Arthurian legends alive after everything he went through or maybe even a physicist trying to build a time machine, find a loop in time to go back and fix the past.

But no.

We see him all alone, old and unequivocally miserable. No longer meddling with fate nor trying anything at all. Lost in a world beyond time that no man should live past or would even be able to comprehend. We see that he never moved on from Arthur, having somewhat a glimmer of hope deep within him. Nobody speaks about how insanely difficult it must have been to have hope especially when you have no end to your own life. As mortals, we can't even bear grief for a short period of time. Yet, Merlin lived the cursed life of an immortal, a life where he will only keep losing everyone he's ever loved. A life full of grief.

In the modern world shown, nobody even believes in magic or practises it and yet he...still believes that someday Arthur will return to him. In the past, he reiterates that he just wants Arthur to see that everything he does is for him. He tells Hunith that Arthur only likes him because he doesn't know him. We see he acknowledges that Arthur is doing acts of service because he likes him yet Merlin couldn't be satiated because he still wasn't his true self to Arthur. To be seen and known for who you truly are is to be loved, that is all he ever wanted from Arthur, even from the very beginning of their relationship.

"You never once sought any credit"

"Its not why I do it"

During the magic reveal, he said "I use it for you, Arthur. Only for you.", still desperately wanting it to be known that his entire life was devoted to Arthur. There was no talk about legalising magic and whatnot between them either after that. He only kept repeating that he was born to serve Arthur. We see in real time just how much he meant when he said "There will never be another like you, Arthur." Evidently, he meant that Arthur is the Once and Future King but it also plays out for Merlin, because there never was anyone like Arthur in his life after that. To the point where he could find no purpose upon losing Arthur.

And yes he keeps saying that its his destiny to be Arthur's servant, that he grew up and learned the meaning of duty but is that really all it is? Towards the end, it was apparent that Merlin's objective was no longer for magic to be accepted in Camelot (as much as he wanted it). Ever since he found out about Arthur's Bane, it was all about keeping him alive. Even when the great dragon told him that there is nothing he could do anymore, Merlin could not accept to lose Arthur. "I can't lose him, he's my friend." It didn't matter that magic isn't legal yet in Camelot. He could not give two fucks about it anymore or else we would've seen magic in the future scene. One can assume that he completely stopped trying to find a solution. Or even lost the will to live.

What I'm trying to say is that, the final scene really is more than just an epilogue to show his loyalty, immortality and despair. If you think about it for a moment, it shows that somewhere along all the fights, snide remarks, banter, and what he and Arthur think isn't exactly a friendship, - they're stupid, don't mind that - he was in love with Arthur. And Arthur loved him in return even in the face of death as the truth came crumbling down. Its not as simple as 'falling in love' because, I don't think Merlin woke up one day and realised that he was inconveniently in love with the idiot arrogant prince who was tied to him by fate.

Their love was inevitable but it definitely stopped becoming destiny and duty a long time ago, it became a choice. "I'm happy to be your servant till the day I die". Merlin was, and I quote "putting up" with Arthur not because it was his life sentence to do so; it was because he wanted to. The worst thing of all is: Merlin chose to do it for the rest of his life.

[dira333]

The Road Not Taken - part 14

Shibi x  female reader with a name - arranged marriage

Summary: Airi Nara seems a hopeless case, until her grandmother sets her up for an arranged marriage. But was marrying Shibi Aburame the right choice after all?

Masterlist ; Character sheet

Taglist open if you want to be added

-.- Airi -.-

They have been able to escape multiple times, slip out from under their grasp at the proverbial last second, but they’ve also been running in circles. 

Whoever is following them is as stubborn as an Inuzuka. 

Your foot is almost useless by now. The pain is so intense that it brings tears to your eyes when you cannot avoid putting weight on it. Iruka can mostly move on his own, if a little short on breath. Akane looks so pale she’s practically glowing in the growing darkness. They are in need of a resting place for the night, preferably one where they will not be found.

As they burrow themselves in a narrow opening beneath the roots of a giant tree, rain sets in. It’s the last thing they need on their already awful day. 

Their little nook is damp and cold, water drips in from too many places to count. 

Akane has first watch and you huddle into the corner, intent on getting the most of the few hours you have. Something crawls over your neck and you pause, fighting down your instinct to fling it away. It’s probably not one of Shibi’s bugs, but you’re training yourself to adapt to all kinds of bugs, to be gentler with them. You offer your hand and feel it crawl onto your finger. You cannot see anything in the darkness, so you tell yourself what color you want it to have.

If only it would be one of Shibi’s. If only it could lead you back to him, or lead him back to you.

“I want to go home.” You tell the bug, whisper it as quietly as you can. The rain swallows the sound but not the feeling of the insect lifting off your finger. It does not return.

-

“Wake up!” You’re shaken awake. Your ankle screams in pain when you sit up and grab your things. It’s still pretty dark outside, and you grab Iruka’s hand so that you don’t get lost. Akane must be at the front. The cold rain wakes you up sufficiently, soaks through your clothes in minutes.

Somewhere above you, lighting strikes. You duck your head instinctively but there’s no thunder. Again, another bolt of lightning and no thunder.

“Is that-” You ask as you stumble over roots. “It’s Kakashi!” Iruka yells back. “Akane recognized him just as we were about to be attacked.”

Kakashi. You have no idea how he got here, and just in time too, but you have no time to ask. The ground moves under you and you stumble, lose your hold on Iruka’s hand. 

Your head smashes into something. You pull your hands up, ready to defend yourself when you realize you cannot get up again, your right leg useless under you.

There’s not enough light to see, the rain swallowing almost any noise. You try to use your shadow, see flashes of steel, and then, suddenly, a warm, furry body right in front of you.

“Need a ride?” Tsume’s grin flashes in the eerie light of Kakashi’s lightning. You’re so relieved you could cry and maybe you do, the tears mixing with the rain pelting your face.

-

Kotetsu and Izumo are on guard when you arrive at the gates in the morning. You sure are a sight to see. Eight Shinobi have been sent out to find your team and the three of your five-person cell that remained alive.

You wonder what is in that scroll that it warranted such intense fights. You will probably never know.

All you want is to rest, to lay in your own bed, preferably with Shibi on one side and the kids on the other. Forget what happened. Play pretend, just for one day.

But this is Konoha, a village built by and for Shinobi.

Death is honorable. Injuries are inevitable. It’s all part of the job. 

You’re ushered to the Hokage tower because none of your injuries are life-threatening at the moment. Sure, your leg is broken in at least one place and you have a concussion, but that’s just a normal Monday.

There’s no chance to check in on your family but at least you know that Shibi is safe and home with the kids. It had been one of his bugs, if you understood correctly, that had alerted the Search Party in the first place. You wonder if it was the one you had found on your neck that last night. Or if it had been one hidden in your hair, deciding that enough was enough.

-

“Thank you for your work.” The Third takes the scroll from you and hands it to someone on the side. That could have been done without your attendance.

As quickly as you can the three of you summarize what happened in the time you’ve been away. It’s been over a week, a time period you still cannot fully comprehend. 

“How did you obtain the Scroll.” The Third’s eyes are on you now and someone clears their throat behind you, a clear sign that you zoned out for a second. 

It’s getting harder to focus with the hammering pain behind your eyes that makes your stomach jolt every time you dare to move your head.

“I asked nicely.” 

Another awkward throat clearing.

“I wasn’t aware we had such good connections to Kiri-Nin.” Another voice points out. Your neck-hairs raise at the sound and you turn your head slightly to spot Danzo standing near the door. He must have slipped in after you arrived.

“They were not Kiri-Nin. I think they were from Yugakure but they did not wear any Hitai-Ate.” 

Silence follows your correction.

You blink against the growing fog. Your head hurts so much.

“They had been hit by another team as well, only two remaining Nin. The female Shinobi was trying her best to save her comrade’s life and I bargained his life for the scroll. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to save him, but she accepted it eagerly.”

“And who gave you the authority to propose such a bargain?” Danzo’s standing right in front of you now. You have to put your head back to maintain eye contact and another wave of nausea rolls through you, strong enough to make bile creeping up your throat. You press a hand to your mouth as you swallow saliva. Whatever you do, you cannot throw up on Danzo. 

“I did.” Someone says to your right. You don’t dare to turn your head, but you don’t seem to have to. 

“Akane was barely conscious, Daisuke was dead, so I was the next in line as Team Lead.” Iruka declares firmly. “We discussed our options and I decided that this strategy would serve us best.”

“You’re telling me that you anticipated that not only would a team of Yugakure-Nin obtain the scroll but that they’d be in need of a Medic as well?”

Danzo’s voice is filled with condescension. Iruka doesn’t falter.

“Of course not. I’m not clairvoyant. But we agreed that if it came to it, it would be a valuable bargaining chip.”

“You’ve barely made Chunin and-”

“That’s enough.” Akane’s voice slices through Danzo’s words like one of her knives does through flesh. It’s a clean cut and he stops talking immediately.

“Iruka has shown commendable use of strategy. Even after I gained consciousness I did not feel the need to take over the role as Team-Lead. While I think he’d make a fine Jonin, I’d like to see him as a teacher at the Academy, perhaps. If anyone can teach my boy how to use his head instead of his fists, it would probably be him.”

“A fantastic idea to consider.” Lord Third declares and claps his hands. “I will look into this after you’ve all submitted your reports. But I think you all need to check in at the hospital first. Tsume, would you be so kind? I don’t think they can walk the distance.”

To your left and right, people start shuffling around. Danzo’s eye is still on you, holding you in place on the lone chair someone had pulled up for you and your useless leg. 

A hand places itself on your right shoulder and you whip around, nerves still on edge. The movement is too much for you, Might Guy’s shocked face the last thing you see before you lose consciousness.

-

Your body feels heavy when you wake like someone had poured lead into your joints while you slept.

You try to blink yourself out of your daze, annoyed when the room keeps spinning. You can’t move your head, not that it would help much with how everything blurs, so you clear your throat awkwardly.

A face pops up over you, a young woman grinning down at you.

“Hello again! This is the third time you’re gaining consciousness. This time you’re in an actual hospital bed. Do you remember me?”

“No.”

“No problem. I’m Rika. I was training under you, but I changed my hair recently, so you might not remember me.”

“Hi Rika, can you tell me what’s going on right now?”

“Of course!” Her cheerfulness is almost too much for you. “We fixated your neck and treated your concussion, now we’re going to work on your leg and-”

“YOU LITTLE-” A shrill voice cuts through her explanation. You try to turn your head but fail. It doesn’t really matter. Something clatters loudly to the floor followed by the voice of a child you’d know everywhere.

“Naruto!” You can hear Iruka, his voice a little breathless. “Behave!”

“They won’t let me through!” The boy wails. You manage to grab Rika’s arm and pull yourself up, her protest falling on deaf ears.

Naruto’s standing in the middle of the busy room, snotty-nosed and dirt smeared over his face. Behind him, a nurse picks herself up from the floor that’s covered in the contents of a tray that had fallen over.

Iruka’s on the bed opposite of yours, shirt gone as two medics have their glowing hands pressed against his torso. He’s a little pale but otherwise fine.

Akane is nowhere to be seen, but your vision’s still blurry, so you could be mistaken.

“Naruto.” You try a little calmer. “Come, wait with me. Iruka’s fine, but they need to move around him and we don’t want to get in the way.”

“You look bad,” Naruto tells you plainly. “Are you going to vomit?”

You want to say no when you do just that.

-

Rika takes charge after that. The last you see of Naruto is his yellow hair burning brightly by Iruka’s side. 

Your bed moves, or maybe that’s just your head. 

At some point, the room falls quiet around you and you blink up to the ceiling to find that while it’s not spinning anymore, this is definitely a different ceiling than before.

“Where are we?” You ask.

“Surgery.” Rika smiles down at you again. “Nothing serious, but we need to set your ankle right. You won’t feel a thing.”

“Rika,” You pull on her scrubs. “My husband. Have you seen him?” 

“Oh?” She looks surprised. “I didn’t know you were married. I will ask the head nurse right after we get out of surgery, alright?” 

You suppose you can’t do anything about that right now.

But you wish Shibi was here. You wish Shino was here too, and Torune, even though you’re probably still covered in vomit and dirt and blood. 

Something buzzes above your face. You blink against the bright lights to find a single Kikaichu flying above your face. It settles on your temple and rests there and you imagine the lingering touch to be from Shibi’s lips.

-.- Shibi -.-

Hana finds him just a few feet from his door, brimming with joy. 

She’s only eleven and to be chosen by her mother to bring him the news of Airi’s arrival means the world to her. 

“I have to go pick up Kiba.” She dismisses herself straight after. “Tell Mom I did a good job when you see her.”

She leaves him with a difficult decision.

Does he grab Shino and Torune or does he leave them behind? He knows Shino won’t stay home knowing you’re finally back, but what if you’re not in a condition to be visited? 

Before he can lose himself in the what-ifs he lifts his arm and sends out his Kikaichu, just a few of them, with the mission to find you. He’d do it himself, curses his self-control that makes him consider his children before himself.

But would he be himself, the one you care for, if he’d be any different?

-

The door closes behind you just as he arrives at the hospital.

“I’m here for Airi. Aburame Airi.” He exclaims, Shino to his left, Torune to his right. 

“Oh, she’s just gone into surgery.” The nurse explains, squinting through her glasses. “Her leg’s broken and she’s got a concussion, but otherwise she’s fine. Are you friends or family?”

“Family. Why? I am her husband and these are our sons.” 

Torune blushes vividly, even more so when Shibi puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

The nurse coos. “Of course, of course. I’m sorry, we’ve had some problems with our paperwork ever since Kazue left. We didn’t even know Airi was going to be on a mission, we expected her to show up for work last Wednesday.”

“Show up for work?”

“Oh yes. But why don’t you grab a hot chocolate for the boys first and meet me back here in ten? We can go over the details then. Maybe you can do something about that mess of a child too.”

He follows her pointed finger to find Naruto sitting in the waiting room, gnawing on some kind of long gummy worm like it’s a bone.

“He came to see Iruka and wouldn’t leave.” The nurse explains with an air of condescension. “Thankfully Kakashi was still here and had the idea of bribing him with sweets.”

“Where are they? Kakashi and Iruka?”

“Iruka’s in surgery as well. I don’t know where Kakashi went, that boy is like the wind.”

“Come,” Torune says softly to his right and offers his hand to Shino. “Let’s comfort Naruto while we wait.”

“Do we have to?”

“Mom would be happy. I am sure he’s worried about Iruka.”

Shino huffs softly, lets go of the piece of his father's cloak he’d been clinging to.

“Fine. But I want to see her as soon as we can. Why? I need to give her my present.”

“I will call you as soon as she’s out of surgery.” He promises.

-

His Kikaichu alerts him minutes before the nurse even knows that you’re out of surgery. 

She’s still going over your data, explaining in neverending circles how Kazue seemed to have mistakenly left out the fact that you’re married as if that changes anything about the fact that you’re the one to be offered a position.

They probably bank on him being too relieved that you made it to care for these obvious mistakes. But he’s an Aburame. He might forgive, but he never forgets. And he might stay silent now, but that doesn’t mean he will forgive this lightly.

To offer you a position is one thing, to ask your grandmother, an elder of your former Clan, if you’re able to take it, something entirely else. 

When he gets up, the nurse looks up in surprise.

“Do you-”

“Airi just got out of surgery.” Shibi does not care to explain how he knows. “We will see her now.”

Behind him in the waiting room, Torune is quietly explaining something to both Naruto and Shino, the small boys transfixed by his story.

A shadow peels itself from the doorframe, silver hair falling over one eye.

“Hey, kid.” He points at Naruto when all three boys look up. “I was just going to get some Ramen. Do you want to come? I think there’s still some time before they’re done with Iruka. We could bring him up a bowl when we’re finished.”

“Who are you?” Naruto asks for a second, cocking his head to the side.

Kakashi falters visibly but doesn’t get a chance to explain himself before Naruto shrugs and gets up.

“Ramen is fine. You’re paying. I want three bowls.”

-

The door to your room is open. Shino’s steps falter to the point he’s dragging his feet. 

Torune’s the first one to step inside. You’re sitting in bed, a neck brace keeping your head in place but you seem to sense them, stretch out your hand as if to call them.

“Shino?” You ask softly, interrupting the medic who had been explaining something to you. “Is that you? Torune? Shibi?”

“I will come back in a moment.” The medic excuses herself with a smile, leaving them. Shino’s still frozen in place by his side but Torune steps forward and takes your hand into his gloved one, shakes it softly.

“I am glad you’re back.” He says calmly, but his voice carries more emotion than can fit in his words. 

“Oh, Torune, I missed you. The pills you gave me saved so many lives.”

“Mom.” Shino pulls away from Shibi, taking the few necessary steps urgently until he’s barrelling into her. “Mom, I’m sorry!”

“Oh, Shino, I know. I know.”

Shibi steps forward, lifts Shino to make sure he doesn’t hurt your injured leg in the process of climbing up.

You smile at him, telling him without words what he wishes he could say.

I love you. I missed you. Don’t you ever dare leave.

-

Hours later when he’s managed to take you home he carefully lifts you into the bathtub to wash off the grime. The boys are downstairs, recalling the events of today to the cat. 

“Hey.” You tell him softly, hand cradling his cheek. “How are you?”

Shibi huffs softly. “You’re asking me that?”

“Yeah. You’ve been different. Quieter. Are you okay?”

“I almost lost you.” He whispers and you respond by leaning forward, pressing your temple against his.

“I love you.” You say and he admires how easily the words seem to come over your lips. He’s been thinking it for so long, yet he can’t bring himself to voice it. Why is it so much more difficult now that he knows you reciprocate? Is it because he knows what could be? Because he knows just how fragile this is?

He pulls away first, busies himself with making sure the cast around your leg is safe from any splashing water. 

Taking care of you like this brings back memories of his first marriage. You must sense his distress because your hand finds his shoulder. That is what grounds him first. Your hands are what defines you, he thinks. Your hold is firm, your skin calloused from hard work, yet you are never harsh. 

“Stay.” You say. It doesn’t sound like a question, but he can read in your eyes that it is. You’re not demanding. 

He washes your hair, watches quietly as dirt and blood wash off your skin. He could almost convince himself that nothing has happened if he blends out the cast on your leg or the brace around your neck.

“The night we were found,” your voice is soft, does not cut through the Silence but rather pinches it, like one does carefully with a filled balloon, “There was a bug on my neck. I could not see it because it was dark, but I wanted it to be one of yours. How many did you leave with me?”

“Ten.” He recalls. “They like to hide in your hair.”

“I like that.” You carefully turn so that you can face him. “I like to have you with me.”

“I love you.” The words stumble over his lips awkwardly and he needs a moment to realize that they came from him. It’s the blooming smile on your lips that tells him the truth.

“I know.” You lean into him. “I love you too.” 

“We need to talk. About the mission.” His mind won’t let it slip. There’s still so much to consider.

“And the hospital.” You agree simply.

“Yes. And-”

“Shh.” You kiss him softly, lean further into him. “Not today, okay? Today, I just want to be home with you and the boys. I just want to love you and be loved.”

---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---.---

taglist: @burningbluegalaxy @sammieshuttle97 @mellophoned

@shadowwolf202101blog @kitty262 @sa-su-gay @8u-nni @ravenswife

[pinkrangersarah]

what's even more unexpected than a season 5 announcement, is me actually getting back on my bullshit and thinking about max's parents. (yeah, i just rewatched parent's day and, yeah, i got a little teary eyed, don't fucking look at me.)

it's canon that max's parents are inattentive to him; they "don't care" about him. it's popular for people to headcanon that they are also physically abusive to him (despite no evidence supporting this in the show), and i remember a while back seeing some theories that his parents are actually foster parents. over the years i've come to dislike these theories, the former having nothing to back it up and the latter getting under my skin because of how the foster care system is in real life--broken, with children often falling into the hands of horrible people. i've come to really dislike media feeding into that reputation.

in trying to come up with my own ideas for max's parents, i started looking into marital traditions and the views of divorce in indian culture. max states in "camp cool kidz" that his parents left their home country (although i'm willing to bet the reason he gives isn't entirely true, if it's true at all), so we can assume that they were married in india. i found an article by shibani joshi, where she talks about her experience with marriage and divorce. arranged marriage is a tradition in many indian cultures and, according to joshi, india has one of the lowest divorce rates, and divorce can bring shame to families, particularly to women.

in her story, joshi makes it clear that she wanted to put her children first; that if she was really going to go through with divorce, it wouldn't be until after her youngest turned 18. she was afraid of what her family would think if she and her now ex-husband divorced. because of this, i'd be hesitant to make a similar case with max's parents; i wouldn't want to potentially smear a cultural tradition and anxieties of a group of people. with how max describes his parents, i wouldn't feel good about it (or perhaps i'm overthinking it).

however, what if his parents wanted to avoid those traditions? before i turned away from this fandom, i used to headcanon that they were young and naive (barely 20) when they had max. i could still see that being the case; perhaps neither of them wanting to go through with arranged marriages, despite that being a generational tradition in their families. consider max's parents leaving india to start over somewhere in america, similar to how joshi describes her father starting a new life in america.

this inevitably takes a turn for the worst, as they are still in those young "finding yourself" stages of life and, on top of that, are trying to settle into a new life in a new country with a baby. the marriage gets strained, and as the two parents take out their frustrations on one another, max is often ignored as a result. "i'm busy, ask your father." "i'm busy, ask your mother." communication falls apart and max is often forgotten about at school, the parents spending more time blaming each other rather than comforting their child. one parent signs him up for after school activities he isn't interested in doing because it's cheaper than hiring a sitter and neither parent is willing to compromise on their work schedules. his parents aren't involved in any aspect of his life, unless they are called in for it (parent-teacher conferences, "max was sent to the principal's office again"), because they are too focused on themselves and their own lives not meeting their expectations. eventually, max learns that negative attention is better than no attention at all. emotional neglect is still abuse, even if it isn't immediately noticeable.

i highly doubt anyone is going to read this, but to anyone who does: what are your thoughts? i'm 100% open to constructive criticism (especially if i've stepped on any toes in regards to culture and traditions, it's the very last thing i want to do) and anyone else's takes on max's parents. i definitely have other headcanons, but if i'm really hopping back onto my bullshit then i'll most likely share them another day.

[tasklinemgr]

Satellite Headcanons... Part 2!

Back with another Satellite Investor post, this time with a focus on each of their origins and appearances.

Charon: He was originally a pilot of private aircraft, until he lost his license after a crash. (Authorities differ on whether he was the one responsible.) His shell was mangled in the incident, but as far as he knows, the rest of the damage from it has all been repaired. Though, some days, he does find himself feeling a little more sore than he should be. The scandal from the whole thing made him basically unhirable anywhere else, and that's how he ended up turning to a life of crime. Charon doesn't have many notable features appearance-wise, aside from his strabismus. He does have a built-in GPS, as well as other navigational systems.

Hydra: He's actually an ordinary cog, who was built in some far-off factory to do ordinary cog things. And through a ridiculous series of events (which would take far too long to cover in their entirety) caused by both his horrid luck and his unpleasant demeanor, he ended up having to run from home and leave everything behind. And then he ended up in the middle of a war against cartoon animals, and also as part of the mafia. He's covered in scratches and dents from... various incidents, and has very pronounced canines.

Nix: Nobody knows where Nix came from. Nix doesn't even know where Nix came from. There isn't a single record of her origins, not even in her own memory. For a while, she didn't even legally exist (and that's why she had to take up illegal work). Nix' past (or lack thereof) doesn't bother her much on the day-to-day, but sometimes she can't help but wonder just what the meaning of all the mystery is. Nix runs much quieter than the average cog, and upon close inspection, one can see that her joints are constructed in a way that minimizes the noise they make. Also, she has padded feet.

Kerberos: He was built, alongside a team of other cogs just like him, to explore an uncharted, frigid wilderness. The group's first and only expedition ended in disaster, with Kerberos being the only one to make it home alive. Not wanting to be sent off to die somewhere else, Kerberos stole a large sum of money from the place that made him and then ditched them for good. Continuing in that vein of things, it eventually found itself working among Cosmo and his boys. It had to discard his original shell cause it would've gotten too hot otherwise. Yes, even in the Coal and Ice District. Kerberos has several large tubes connected to his body, meant to hold (and dispense) excess oil.

Styx: This guy was an experiment. A test of the limits of cog design, created with one key purpose in mind: to always get back up again. At first glance, he might seem more fragile than the average cog, but by being built to "break" along designated points, he can easily be put back together again and keep fighting. Er, that was the idea, anyway. In practice, it's honestly a bit of an inconvenience, and so he was deemed a failure and abandoned. As for how he ended up in the business of organized crime? It was probably inevitable, given the less-than-legal circumstances of his creation. Other features of Styx' include his large fangs (which seem to have been made for puncturing things) and the fact it's near impossible for him to fully shut down.

[samieree]

Born in Flames || Game of Thrones

OC x ?😏

-> Chapter X "Be careful"

Chapter XI ''Why?''

She was shocked, that was her reaction to these words. Did he just... Offer to kill Daenerys for her...? Where did he get the idea that she wanted this? And what makes him think that if her aunt lives, there will be a massacre in Astapor? How can he walk up to her just like that and say such things?

"What? No...!" she replied after the first shock had passed, although she still couldn't believe what she heard.

She wanted to say something else, dozens of thoughts were running through her head, which she tried to weave into one sentence, but a scream behind her interrupted her.

"You!" she turned sharply away from Roran, noticing that the Slave Market was suddenly no longer so crowded. "How dare you? How dare you call yourself her family?"

She felt like she was in a dream when this man - whom she had feared ever since she met her aunt - Jorah Mormont, had a sword pointed at her. She recognized the same glow of hatred in the blue eyes as in her dream, but also sadness and disappointment.

"Lower your sword." Ser Arthur stood in front of her, sword already drawn. His voice was unusually calm for the situation they were currently in.

"How can you call yourself a knight? How can you defend her if you know what she's planning?"

"Put your sword away." he repeated, not referring to any of the accusations thrown at him.

"No." the word was almost as sharp as the sword itself.

Visenya instinctively took a few steps back. She wanted to somehow stop what was about to happen. She didn't want to see any of them die, even though - believing the stories she had heard or read - she already knew the outcome of this fight... Yet despite this, she was now in fear for her life in a way comparable to how she had been when she fled King's Landing.

Before she realized that bloodshed was unfortunately inevitable, she noticed something else...

"Where is Roran?" she said it quietly to herself. She quickly looked around, there were still some people in the market, although everyone was staying away from the knights who were pointing their swords at each other. Even with this amount of people, she could say that Roran was nowhere to be found. He ran away? He got scared? Or maybe...

How stupid I am... Stupid, naive child...

Before she could think it through, she ran back to where she and her aunt currently lived. Thoughts about the duel between the two knights were pushed to the back of her mind by the growing fear for Daenerys' life.

Ser Arthur was right, how could I not see that Roran was manipulating me? Is that even his name? Why is he doing this? Why does Jorah want to kill me? Was he manipulated too?

If she dies... I will never forgive myself. It's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault...

With these thoughts, she ran, squeezing between people. Some people looked at her like she was crazy as she ran past them, never slowing down. Sometimes she bumped into someone and hurriedly muttered an apology without even turning around.

Because of this, she didn't notice someone who was following her like a shadow.

It was already getting dark when she ran into the house, she couldn't even see much because the candles didn't provide enough light to enlighten the entire room. In this light there were no signs of any struggle, did she panic unnecessarily? But if Dany was at home, she probably would have come out to her by now, or at least said something...

Maybe she also went somewhere? No, impossible, Jorah would be next to her then, he wouldn't leave her alone outside the house...

What if she sent him to kill me?

She didn't know what to think anymore... Was Daenerys also manipulated by Roran? Did he talk to her too, wanted to turn her against her niece? Or maybe he told her that I wanted to get rid of her? That would explain Jorah's words...

Everything in her head instantly froze when she entered the room where the dragons were kept. as soon as she crossed its threshold, she was struck by the squeals of these animals, as well as the sight of a bleeding woman lying on the floor. She immediately rushed to her, placing her hand on the wound, trying to stop the bleeding, even though it was too late.

She felt tears welling up in her eyes and immediately flowing down her cheeks. It hurt more than the knowledge of what had happened to her parents and siblings... She had no influence on those deaths, she could mourn them, it could hurt like hell, but she had never known them, so she quickly stopped crying at the memory of their stories. But now... She was directly responsible for it. It was her stupidity and naivety that cost her aunt her life. She had already gotten to know her and like her, she was good, she was so good... She could have done so much good, she shouldn't have landed under the cold ground, Visenya should have been there as a punishment for her mistakes, not her.

"Why?" she raised her tearful gaze at Daenerys, who said these words with obvious difficulty. She saw regret in her eyes. Even if she was told that Visenya had decided to kill her, she wasn't angry, but disappointed... Devastated that her niece turned out to be such a person...

But that's a lie! I didn't want to! In this short time I have managed to love you, I would never want you to die!

"I didn't... I'm sorry... I didn't... I... I didn't mean to..." the tears prevented her from speaking, much less seeing if Daenerys had heard it before her vision went blank. She almost choked on her tears as she rested her head on her aunt's chest and closed her eyes.

She didn't try to control herself, she didn't want to. She should despair at her stupidity, it was her fault, if she had been smarter, if she had listened to ser Arthur and his suspicions, this would not have happened.

She felt so terrible that she didn't even think that the killer might still be in the house, or even in the same room. Or she thought about it, but she wasn't going to worry about it? If she dies, it will be an appropriate punishment. Maybe she will find solace in death? Maybe she will be overwhelmed by darkness and emptiness, where she won't feel anything? So what if she doesn't feel joy anymore, if she has never really experienced it anyway? So what if she doesn't feel joy, if now she is consumed by sadness and if it left with her soul, it would be easier for her body. Even if it were to lie a few meters underground.

A few steps away from her, a candle flame reflected in the blade of a dagger covered in blood. Roran slowly raised his weapon, silently approaching his next target. He was already standing right behind her. He carefully crouched down to give himself a good opportunity to strike her right in the back.

He was about to swing and plunge the blade into Visenya's back when suddenly the sword stuck into his back and came out on the other side.

Hearing these sounds behind her, Visenya instinctively raised her head and turned towards the attacker crouching behind her with a sword piercing his chest.

"Who do you work for?" shaking, she barely understood these words, and in the darkness she couldn't recognize the face of the person who saved her. She moved back against the wall and wrapped her arms around her knees, trying to somehow control the shaking of her body.

The man remained silent, even though he didn't have much time left. It seemed that he would not betray the person who had commissioned him to do all this, but when the defender twisted the sword stuck in his chest, he choked something out of his throat. It was very slurred and softly spoken - or rather groaned - but it was understandable.

Spider.

She knew who had that nickname.

The murderer's body fell to the ground and after a while blood began to ooze out of it, staining the floor.

Immediately afterwards, another person rushed into the room, visibly nervous at first, but the sight of the man who had saved Vis and herself seemed to calm him down a bit. Visenya was still quite distant and didn't see who she owed her life to, but she wasn't going to change that anytime soon. She kept her eyes on the floor, tears already drying on her cheeks. Her hand was still dirty with Daenerys' blood, some of it soaked into her clothes as she hugged her knees.

I have her blood on my hands. Ser Jorah's too, if he's dead...

Ser Arthur and Ser Barristan looked at her and whispered briefly to each other before Arthur told him to leave him alone with Visenya for a moment. He approached her slowly and crouched down next to her. At first she didn't notice it, as if she was still stuck in her own reality.

"You killed him...?" she asked, sobbing softly. He nodded in response, and she cried a little louder for a moment. "It's all my fault..." she raised her eyes a little, directing them towards the dragons locked in their cages, who were constantly screeching and demanding attention. "I don't deserve anything, what will I do now..." she hid her face in her hands.

"Everyone makes mistakes... It's important not to give in to them and learn from them. As long as you live, you can still change things." She shook her head, as if not accepting Ser Arthur's words. This mistake was catastrophic, how can he just accept it as a lesson and move on? "If you just sit there and cry, they won, it will all be in vain." she still didn't want to listen to him, even though some part of her told her that he was right. If she continues to despair, it will be as if the murderer had achieved his goal and destroyed her. It's just hard to accept a mistake when it has had such terrible consequences... "Do you want it to drag you down like it happened to your father?"

At the mention of her father, she slowly removed her hands from her face and looked at Ser Arthur.

She looked... Maybe not horrible, but definitely like a picture of despair. Her eyes were red from crying, her cheeks were wet with tears, and she was sniffling. She looked like she could fall to pieces at any moment. In this terrible condition, she had to find the strength to wipe her tears and decide to move on. He can't do it for her, no matter how much he wants to.

"Don't dwell on what you did wrong. Learn from it and leave it behind, don't go back to it, don't let it drag you down. This is the way of the world, cruel and merciless, no matter whether you are a good person or a criminal." he paused to think about how he wanted to put into words what else he wanted to say to her, before continuing, in a slightly quieter voice. "You have a gentle heart. Now you could consider it a flaw, say that it only bothers you... But if you decide to move on, gain strength and support, you can change the world for the better. I believe that nothing happens without a reason. The same way I believe in you."

As he said this, her eyes remained focused on him. She knew he was right that she couldn't grieve and dwell on this moment forever, or it would eventually come to define her life. But...

Can she change the world? If it's cruel, how could one soft-hearted person change it? How can she find the strength to make bold and sometimes difficult decisions to change this world for the better? How will she know what is good? Why should anyone listen to her, follow her vision of the world? How to find the strength to get up, wipe your tears, look yourself in the face and say: I screwed up, but it's not over yet.

I owe it to her. The thought suddenly flashed through her mind.

If she wasn't going to move on for herself, she should do it for Daenerys, for her goal. She is dead because of her, but her goal is not dead, she can pursue it. She owes her at least that much. That's right, if she gives up, the murderer and his employer will win. She can't let this happen. 

Daenerys would not allow that. As far as she was able to get to know her, she knew that she had been through a lot in life and had finally learned to turn suffering into motivation, into strength. She should learn the same. She should be like her or better, if possible.

Not only for her, but also for all those people who suffer in chains. After all, she had lived as a slave for seventeen years and even so was treated better than all these people. She had never been punished as severely as they were. No one deserved this, no one deserved to die like these people from the Walk of Punishment.

For Selaria. For her, who stood first with her mother and then with her. She gave her life so that Visenya could run away and start a new life. Perhaps even avenge her family and claim the throne of the Seven Kingdoms.

For Ser Arthur, who turned out to be her true friend in all this, who did not abandon her, who saw her in her most vulnerable form and still did not abandon her saying that she is weak, but decided to help her get up from her knees.

She had just realized how naive she was, but at the same time she found the confidence to completely trust this knight and the oaths he made to her. If someone like Ser Arthur Dayne believed in her, then she should too.

"Thank you." they were just two words, but they expressed more than any monologue she could have ever delivered. In these words and that very gentle smile there was a promise of everything she had already promised herself in her head.

When she reached out to take his hand, it meant more than any possible declaration of trust. The squeeze of her hand gave as much encouragement and motivation as all the previous words put together.

I will be better. I will predict events. I will change the world for the better, I promise. For Daenerys. For Selaria. For myself. For everyone.

~

-> Chapter XII "Follow the vision of a better tomorrow" -> general masterlist -> Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon masterlist

[x-authorship-x]

Sadly, family fics with them are a bit thin on the ground these days. With how pervasive Qui-Gon bashing has become, it's a lot harder to find fics with him that don't feature it and I mostly have given up trying. I'm usually fine with fics that are a bit judgemental, because he is a flawed man, but I can't read things where he's mean and heartless anymore after reading the books. There still are some fics with good family feelings on ao3 though! If you'd like a rec, off the top of my head I can think of the One Hundred Hours To Rearrange The Stars series by soft_but_gremlin, and the Reprise series by Elfpen, both of which feature time travel and handle Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan (both older and younger) well. I think they'd be up your alley.

Obi-Wan's willful nature gets him into trouble just as often as it gets him out of it, and he really does just have absolutely bonkers luck. Him going off alone to do something always ends with either a really lucky find or him in peril, though often both one right after the other.

(Yeah, the Melida/Daan arc - which is where Obi-Wan does that - drives me up the wall, and not in any of the ways I expected going into it. No joke, I went into those books thinking I'd be pissed as all hell at Qui-Gon, and instead came out of them hating Nield, being incredibly frustrated with Obi-Wan, and thinking that Qui-Gon was pretty much the only person in book 5 who was even remotely reasonable for like 90% of it. I could talk about it for literal hours, because oh my god. They're good books, but it was seriously a head trip to read them after only being exposed to the fanfics, because they're vastly different. I won't go into it or we'd be here all day, but it's a lot more complex than the very black and white take that a lot fandom gives it credit for.)

Wait what, how did I miss you talking about that?! An Inoichi and Shisui master-padawan fic would be so, so good, oh my god. I tried to go back to find anything you had on it, but Tumblr's search function is garbage so I didn't find anything. Which is so sad, please tell me more I want to know about baby padawan Shisui being gently parented by jedi master Inoichi 🥺

I'm glad to know my infodump was well received! I was a little nervous when I woke up and realized I had actually sent it, since I did kinda hit you with it out of nowhere and it is a pretty unpopular opinion these days, so it was a big relief when you didn't seem to mind!

Yo!

Well I'm not surprised either tbh, people love drama in their fics , they love Obi-wan (guilty as charged), and most fics need someone to come down on as the bad guy, so yeah I can absolutely see the fandom skewing that way... also thank you, I appreciate recs, I'll be sure to check them out! ☺️

(also I'm on board with the 'shut up omg neild' train, although you're also right that I've not read the books but just... osmosed the info but oh well)

Ahhh Tumblr is so goddamn broken, I tried to find my own prompt drabbles earlier and... no luck 🙃 more than happy to chat (or rediscuss) stuff tho :)

So I'd like to avoid the inevitable pitfalls of just applying the SWs universe to the Naruto characters and plotline (I'm just... not in the mood for the danzo/suicide/itachi arc, again) and focus on extracting just Inoichi and Shisui into SW plot etc. A cleaner cut that's not too heavy with two series' worth of plot.

So it would be something like... Inoichi is from a mid-rim planet, somewhere metropolitan, he presented a very strong telepathic skill with the force as a child so he was sent to the Jedi. Started training as a healer, using his mental strength to soothe others and the growing darkness, BUT then he found himself (as many Jedi do) called by the force out into the wider galaxy... to the edge of wild space. There, he finds a planet where there is a clan of people who are the only force sensitives on the planet, the Uchiha, who the government have turned against by fear of their abilities and of a coup. The Uchiha are in the middle of being massacred when Inoichi arrives, finds a six year old Shisui running for his life, and intervenes. Inoichi saves him and they run for Inoichi's ship, massively outnumbered and barely make it.

Magic Item Found: Adorable Child

Achievement Unlocked: Single Parenthood!

At the temple, inoichi is a very strong presence in Shisui's life in the creche and has taken a full-time role as a mind healer (to be around all the time lol) but they are both conscious that shisui is monitored for any taint of 'darkness' from his experiences - and the darker use of the force that the Uchiha were known for. Inoichi is more concerned with Shisui's well-being and his own lack of experience with children. Shisui is very worried about not being perfect and not internalising the Jedi code (gonna go freestyle interp on this one) enough to avoid attachment. Cue inoichi teaching himself to be a young father and shisui punishing himself with so much training and emotional pining that the crechmaster is concerned he'll be aging out of initiate classes by the time he's 10. Inoichi takes shisui as his Padawan as soon as possible (inoichi is like "my son 🥹" but not pushing too hard whilst shisui is like "I need to make him proud and that includes not being a burden🥹") and somehow (but also reaaaaaaally NOT surprising) they are the most emotionally intelligent master padawan duo DESPITE the huge hiccup in communication 😂

Inoichi: I will parent him SO WELL that he will be strong enough to live a long and fulfilling life, even when I am gone... Damn I love this kid :') (small but nagging concern for his flagrant attachment but knows it's healthy and human so weighs more on his shrink BG than ancient Jedi teaching... this is not popular but YOU try fighting with a doctor)

Shisui: I have to talk about my feelings, even though I'll be careful to avoid coming on too strong .. I WILL NOT get a bad grade in Padawan *proceeds to be the most loving and precious child possible, selfless and clever and loyal to such a degree that he's able to help others as well*

😂🤦

Inoichi is about, hm, 35? And Shisui is 20 (so Inoichi found Shisui, 6, when he was 21) which means... Inoichi is crechmates with Obi-wan and Quinlan :))))) and Shisui knows Anakin and Aayla

(*Fix It Fic clown music intensifying*)

I think the best way to transform canon from that point on is the simple acknowledgement that Shisui would be a Shadow. With the Uchiha's use of force manipulation plus Inoichi's own teaching in telepathy and empathetic communication AND Shisui's own incredible speed... Shisui would be ideal for scouting. Which means he would be the one getting intelligence that informs the GARs missions. And he can pick up on the bullshit faulty info that's doctored to kill the clones/Jedi and extend the war and be like... hold the phone lads this is a conspiracy :3

I just want a scene where the kids are like 14/15/16 (respectively) and coming back from rebellious teen speeder racing and Anakin is like "obi wan is gonna ground me again for being out past bedtime 😒" and shisui is like "sucks to be you bro inoichi actively bets on me winning✨" and Aayla is like "you also have a bedtime 🙄" to which Shisui is like "...😬 ok point" and really Aayla is the only one unphased because Quinlan is like OMG MY LIL PADAWAN WAS OUT LIVING WILD 🥹 IM SO PROUD

Also I reaaaaaaaaaaally want Shisui to do the force equivalent of a Shunshin in a battlefield (maybe he's hunting Ventress?) And just... BAMF wows everyone and it's so beautiful and then he's like ✨☺️✨ the SUN with his CURLS and his DIMPLES and 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 and suddenly Anakin (who's been getting more sullen) starts to brighten up again, like the clouds receding, and Obi-wan is also relaxing a little because these days seeing Shisui means it won't be long until- and there, that's when Inoichi arrives (at a much more reasonable pace) with their Intell Corps and the 501st and 212th are introduced to the wonder of Jedi therapy (also those two would 100% be the ones who find the chips)

ANYWAY

I hope you enjoy MY infodump lmaoooo I got carried away but oh well~

That's quite alright, I like when people use my askbox and it was a surprise but a positive one, I hadn't expected a SW ask and especially not one about Qui-gon haha... I'm not phased by 'unpopular' opinions, I'm sure I've more than a few that my followers don't care for! 😉 for what it's worth, I hope you're reassured if you decide to send me any more asks :)

Anyway, I've rambled a lot here but thanks for reaching out again, it was super interesting~ have a nice day/night, Anon ✨

[amyisherenowitsokay]

Ooh, another one came to me when I sent the technology one.

In going back and reviewing the original MHNY trilogy plot, story, everything built between characters etc, what did you do? What did you decide to scrap, to keep, or to repurpose? You said you're aiming to branch away from 2 and 3 with something different, and disliked how you kept yourself to following the plot beats of the original first, right?

What does that clean slate look like? What pieces in Re:1 act as the catalyst to those further down in Re:2&3? The largest ones are obvious, (obviously) the big glaring plot changes. Are there more subtle ones? (don't have to say if you want to keep em a secret.)

Or, just, what things thru all three stories made you die inside and scream why did you write that? (I feel like you have a list.)

I'm gonna answer with spoilers because I'm having a good time answering these. These are HEAVY spoilers for the direction of the fic. As Re:MHNY2 is currently aiming at a Spring release date, I feel more lax about it's secrets, but still. If you don't want to know, don't look.

CW// Mentions of sexual themes, explicit themes, the briefest of mentions of non-con as a theme

This is a really fun question in particular, because it was really something I wrestled with just in the conception of this fic series so many months ago, going back and forth with "do I want to do a rewrite? and if I do, knowing I had a second chance, what would I fix?"

I'll fully admit there are people who remember my fics better than I do (I am looking respectfully at @rllybritrlly whenever literally anything about From Your Memory gets brought up). That meant I really needed to reread my original fics to even remember all the details, what I wrote about them, read my cringe tween A/N's, etc. As Re:1 was the baby that started it all, I really wanted to pay as much homage as possible to it. Also, even so many years later, I still liked the overall plot, even if I felt the details could've been better executed, and I could've done without the various problematic themes. I think I've given the lengthy answer before, somewhere, but the short of it is mostly these major points:

I didn't like the weird sexually exploitative relationship between Zim/Gaz with the kissing/touching. Additionally, I knew I could make the inevitable ZAGR kiss way more dramatic if it was roped into the climax instead of just randomly thrown in the mix in problematic ways from the mid-arc. I LOVED writing the kiss in the rewrite, and it was actually one of the first scenes I rewrote, even before officially announcing/confirming the rewrite.

I didn't like Gaz and Dib's relationship. I love cruel, troubled Gaz, but I don't think it benefited the story to make her so constantly dismissive of Dib, to the point where he was sometimes written like an afterthought. I think IZ as a whole benefits from the complex relationships the characters have with one another, and the Re:MHNY series could benefit from developing those changing relationships rather than stagnating on them.

I had no idea when writing the original MHNY that I was ever going to do a sequel, or the direction of the finale. It was originally a one-and-done until I think the second-to-last chapter, when I decided I had more to write, and liked my readership too much to give it all up with a one-hit-wonder. Now that I know where the finale goes, I really wanted the opportunity to drop more lore, hints, and foreshadowing. The biggest example is Tak, whose name I basically borrowed as recognizable since I was too lazy to make a one-off OC, and only after-the-fact found a way to reweave her back into the third installment. Tak's fate is not going to be the same as it was in the original, and also, in the first rewritten fic, we got more insight into her personality. Not a lot, granted, but enough where the reader would be able to notice changes later on.

Discerning readers may have noticed that I kept the same amount of chapters in the rewrite as I did the original. If you compare chapters 1:1, a lot of the bigger themes parallel one another. Gaz is still ensnared by alien parasitic technology in chapter 1 of the rewrite as she was in the original, albeit in much bloodier circumstances. Zim's motorcycle/car chase in the original in chapter 6 is paralleled by the chase in chapter 6's rewrite, even though the circumstances are vastly different. Zim feigning a long-term, committed relationship in chapter 17 of the rewrite is a big nod to the original, in which Zim bartered for Gaz's life on the premise that they were more together than they really were, even with the kissing/touching premise they had with one another. Additionally, the theme of 'Zim hacks the Valkian ship' stays, even if it's once again executed under different circumstances. The details change, yes, but ultimately the Valkians are still slaughtered. That dedication I made towards keeping Re:MHNY1 as 1:1 as possible was a fun challenge in its way, but it's not going to happen in the sequels.

Regarding Re:mhny2 and Re:mhny3, I will only be borrowing the most basic of premises. As announced earlier this year, Iggins is still in the next fic. However, his differences are major, and a closely guarded secret I have only really shared with I think my internet bestie and my boyfriend. Again, anyone not looking for spoilers may want to skip this ask.

Some sneaky secrets are how I left whether or not Gaz went back to finish the tournament ambiguous. Additionally, that unlike the finale of the original MHNY, Gaz and Dib do not ever have another 'on-screen' discussion after she's rescued. Zim and Dib do, yes, but Gaz and Dib do not. There's a joke in Ch 20 about Zim showing up in his living room with cocoa, but the nature of any sibling conversations, if any even occurred, are also left deliberately absent and/or ambiguous. It's noted that they spent the majority of the aftermath resting, and really not a lot else. The most screen time Dib gets is being thrown out of the operating room in the flashback.

Unlike the original, where Tak was originally just used as a throwaway name-drop when I was too lazy to make an Irken OC or find another way to justify why someone might call to warn Zim about the Valkians, or even know who he was, I currently know Tak's fate in the rewrite, and I knew it when I wrote it, too, which means I got to sneak in that little ominous line of the Tallest when hearing her report in Ch 20.

“Now,” he said, doing his best to shrug off the strain of morning. “Go get that she-Irk again.”

A discerning reader might also have noticed Professor Membrane is not brought home, and never told what actually happened. Aside from some angsty pining from the Membrane siblings, his personal involvement ends when Dib abandons him at his conference and comes home for Gaz. That being said, there's also an interesting few paragraphs that have been brought up and pointed out to me individually before on Discord, and that other readers may have picked up on as well from Ch 18 that are going to be important to the sequels.

She hated this. She hated hiding herself behind veils of cynical wit and aloofness just to survive—to barely endure while she festered inside. She hated her father, drilling into her how uncomfortable people could be around her. That scaring people was wrong. That friends and admiration from peers were so very important. Don’t be angry, Gazlene. Be motivated! Don’t be frightened of change! Embrace it!

Zim had never demanded change. Zim had only ever ripped out the honesty, the worst parts of Gaz that she had buried under years of practiced apathy, and embraced them with open fascination. Sick. Accepting. Conniving.

You killed an Elite, his voice whispered, a caress on trembling limbs.

She had. She remembered every vivid detail like a flash bomb. The fear. The rage. The burning resentment. The same theme over and over. That she never should’ve been there. She never should’ve been here . That something had tried to take her life over nothing . That she had every right to fear for her life. 

The flashbacks that left her breathless. The fear, genuine, and yet underlied with something she dared not admit to even herself. Years of her fathers conditioning cushioning the awful truth of his daughter. She was just a teenage girl—once a child—who should never have been formed this way.

His son had inherited his father’s bravery and passion to learn, and twisted it into a dangerous recklessness. A need for pursuit and answers at all costs.

His daughter had inherited her father’s calculating practicality, and it had mutated into a vicious willingness to do the very worst thing for the necessary reason.

You killed an Elite, she heard once more. 

But this time, a loathsome truth followed. 

And you want to do it again.

As trademark as Gaz's viciousness is throughout the IZ series in general, and in this fic, her strict restraint being pinned on her father's discipline may seem out of place with only this fic to go off of. While it can definitely be read as a standalone, it does (deliberately) give the reader pause. Professor Membrane praises Gaz in the series for being his favorite child, not for being a menace to society as a whole, so where's this coming from? Why are Zim and Professor Membrane playing devil-and-angel-on-her-shoulder in her (concussed) brain? And notably, if that's their assigned role, where Membrane is the voice of restraint, and Zim the voice of rationality, then it should be noted that Zim's voice won. This should leave you asking why that is, and if that's always going to be the case.

A funner teaser is some foreshadowing I dropped throughout the story about what mating is going to look like in this fic. I wrote a lot of what I wrote about sex, love, and marriage under a heavy veil of religious indoctrination, which distorted and I think damaged the potential creativity of my writing. Virginity-cultural stigma somehow shoe-horned its way into my fic, and I don't really want that to happen again, which means there's going to be a lot more lewd scenes leading up to a sexual relationship. We're not just gonna have our characters go from making out to full penetrative sex. That's skipping quite a few bases. I've expanded behind the scenes a lot more information about Irken culture/mating, and while penetrative sex has been established as off-limits until such a time as our two heroes may deign to bind themselves to one another for eternity, I am not going to leave you hanging in the meantime. Some hints however about what mating looks like in the rewrite have been dropped, such as this nibble in Ch 9.

As he'd briefly gone over with the human girl, irken rituals of courtship were far different than any found on Earth. There was no religious entity or documentation, and the ceremony required complete isolation for at least three days.

and

He could never have that with Gaz. For one thing, she had no PAK. Well, she did, but it didn't actually count. Any attempt to encode the PAK was pointless, and furthermore, the PAK wasn't integrated to her brain the way it was to Zim's, or any other Irken's. It held no influence, and no significance to her decisions. While Zim's PAK may bind him for eternity, the human wouldn't be bound by anything other than the whims of her fleeting, mortal affection.

I outright name the ceremony in Re:mhny2, and also plan on further establishing teasers here and there about what's in store.

Skoodge is also a big teaser in himself! Skoodge is a competent invader and a traitor to the Empire, whom Zim has explicitly expressed allyship towards. He is definitely going to be important later on.

Regarding what a clean slate looks like for the sequels, I'll go ahead and name some big ones off the bat. Again, spoilers.

In Re:mhny2, Iggins is ultimately the antagonist, but whether or not he's the or even a villain is going to be something I look forward to watching readers debate about. That's what I mean by clean slate. Iggins was inarguably the bad guy and a major shithead in the original sequel. In the rewrite, Iggins may be a shithead, but what I really disliked about the original was how one-dimensional he was. Additionally, I think it's a more interesting story not for the protagonists to overcome the antagonist in a linear journey, but for the antagonist to grab the protag's by the neck and drag them into the mud with them. What if the hero's journey isn't upward, but one where simply keeping afloat equates success? What if not drowning is the victory? Metaphorically speaking, Re:mhny2 is going to start with fearless characters and end with characters who never look at the ocean the same way again, and are wizened for it.

Whereas the original was just kind of 'watch these characters be badass and mercilessly inflict pain on a bad guy' Re:mhny2 is basically going to be a lot of character self-reflection. I love the IZ characters for their flaws, but we're not going to get real, raw growth out of them if they're not forced to take on their own misdeeds and mistakes by metaphorical knifepoint. Re:mhny2 is going to be about them and the knife. And by them, I mean all 3 of the main cast, plus Iggins.

Re:mhny3 is similar. I'm excited to write about Iggins, but I am ecstatic to get another shot about a Zim-pocalypse. Enter the Florpus gave me so much new source material about what Zim successfully taking over the Earth, even for a short while, would look like, and I'm grateful for its contributions to the finale's development. Zim is still going to take over the Earth. Why, how, and under what circumstances is drastically different, and since its release is much farther out than the sequel, I will restrain myself to only give you this single, but eye-opening question when I talk about major, complete deviations from the plot. I have always regretted my impatience with MHNY3 for many things, but mostly one:

Wouldn't it have been a much more interesting story if Gaz really didn't know what was going on?

I'll just leave that thereeeeee.

For your last question, and one that makes me laugh to even look at, I do have a mental list. I'm pretty sure this'll be the first time I've ever written it down though.

Here are my top ten cringe moments from the original series as a whole, from cringiest to least:

The entirety of every sex scene I ever wrote

Ever writing the phrase "And they hadn't even done anything yet!" during a sex scene -- this is so ingrained in my cringe that I can, even now, tell you exactly where it is in the fic, the context, and wrote it without even needing to reference the phrasing

Implying Iggins would SA Gaz while she was under his thrall, and incapable of consenting (for concerned readers, non-con is not going to pop up in my stories again, and I apologize in hindsight for any discomfort caused)

Zim and Gaz's sexually transactional relationship, especially while Gaz was 14

Gaz getting married when she was only 18 (Gaz is already going to be 18 in the sequel, and will probably be in here early-to-mid twenties in the finale)

Dib being used as a punching bag for Zim and Gaz to be cruel to for cheap gags

Making the Tallests simps for Zim for really no reason other than that I was a simp for Zim and wanted to give him nice things lmao

Tak just sort of popping up out of nowhere as a maid, and blatantly borrowing the themes of servants being 'furniture' from the anime When Seagulls Cry/Umineko

That fucking weird ass segment where I had Gaz have prophetic nightmares (?) in the third one, and wander around a castle like some sort of haunted Victorian child. Really the whole castle scenes themselves were cringe. Get rid of the castle. Wipe it from your minds.

Making Gaz and Zim essentially infallible, unbeatable, and just boring in how completely dominant they inevitably were to any problem that arose. It just sucked the tension out of every situation because I got too bored or impatient with scenes that otherwise could've been much more interesting than they were.

This ended up a lot longer than I anticipated, but I hope I answered everything sufficiently!

[guideoftime]

Anonymous asked: How does Sheik handle Link's death? To other Links? Inu / you've reached the mun!

You have to remember that Sheik is a Warrior. So if you expect him to grieve it just won't happen. Not--not in the way one should grieve.

I actually wrote him doing it in my BOTW fan/fic. Sheik handles Time's death, as Wild words it, "The grave didn’t seem to startle the man as much as Link expected it would. / He handled the death of a friend with a skill that Link could only compare to a soldier." Sheik is a sage for a very long time, to him death is inevitable. He doesn't age as a sage, but he understands everyone around him does. To expect the world to not move, simply because he doesn't, is childish thoughts.

Sheik is trained to crush his emotions. To bury them far beneath whatever rock there is, to move on. Focusing on the task at hand, what is going on around him, is far more important than allowing his emotions to cripple him. This is also a skill taught to him by IMPA. So when faced with the reality that Time is actually gone, he processes it and moves on. Rather than allow himself to feel the emotions over it, he simply registers the words/understanding, more or less. Not allowing himself to focus on it, to feel.

Sheik sees all the "heroes" as seperate people. They are not Time, they're are not the man he knew. They're just the next one fucked by destiny. He has some fondness for them, simply for their shared connection to Time, but they inheritantly different. He doesn't just hand them his trust and stick the labels of the man he knew on them. The fondness, love, Sheik has for the "Hero" and even Princess Zelda, comes from their shared bond. Their connection. Which was to Time Link / Time Zelda. The man he guided for years and the woman he grew up with.

They're all different and he can see the differences.

( Below the cut is the excerpt from the fan/fic ie; Sheik faced with Time's grave )

   Link climbed out from beneath the other and stood to his feet, holding a hand out. Sheik watched him a moment before slowly letting go of his head and accepting the help. They got him to his feet and Link was pleased to see he was slowly regaining his sense of balance. He had no idea where they pulled the guy from but he moved like he’d been asleep for as long as Link was. Sheik tested his wrists, rolling them around, spinning weapons through his fingers that he just pulled from somewhere in his body suit. He shifted his shoulders, stretched his legs and then turned to Link. 

   He finally spoke and his voice sounded as soft as he looked yet as deadly as he was sure the Sheikah was. “My name is Sheik as you seem to know, the last of the Sheikah Warriors. You said the Hero sent me to aid you?” 

   The grave didn’t seem to startle the man as much as Link expected it would. He kept the conversation he had with the Hero to himself and the other didn’t ask, just stood at the foot of the grave with an unreadable expression on his face. He handled the death of a friend with a skill that Link could only compare to a soldier. It honestly made him feel bad for the other. He gave him his time, picking flowers and food he found on the ground in the small clearing. When Sheik seemed ready for him to approach Link made his way back over and sat the items he collected at the base of the tombstone. 

   It wasn’t much of an offering but he had little else and somehow he didn’t think the Hero would mind the lack of gold he had for an offering. Link still arranged it as nicely as he could and stood back up to face Sheik. 

   Sheik watched the grave still as he spoke. “Where are we?” 

   “The Lost Woods, the Korok lead me here with a song. I probably won’t be able to find my way out without them.”

   Sheik shook his head and turned to leave the clearing. “I can show you the way.” That only gave him more questions than answered. “We’ll discuss the problems you have once we’re out of here, you don’t want to get lost in the woods, it’s best to pay attention.” Despite the others back being to him he still nodded his head and quietly followed along. This time there was no music but the forest seemed to welcome the Sheikah as if he was an old friend. 

[aeshnacyanea2000]

I have so many thoughts about this AU, so this is going to get long and I’m going to put it under a cut.

Given that Futamono is the episode right after Hannibal almost died because Will Graham sent the copycat killer after him, I wonder if the reason why Bedelia finally accepted his invitation is rooted in protectiveness. Or, at least, in heightened emotions due to what almost happened. (Ooooh, this would make a great combination with the AU where she came back because she was his emergency contact and was called after he got rescued and taken to hospital!)

Bedelia would know exactly what it means that Jack is taking food samples. Which raises the question of whether or not she knew Hannibal would not serve his special meats at that dinner party before she accepted the invitation. (I firmly believe that by that point in the timeline she did know that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper, and exactly what the Ripper does with the pieces he takes from his victims.)

I’m sure Hannibal would wonder whether or not she knew, too. Whether she only accepted his invitation because she believed he wouldn’t be foolhardy enough to feed his guests human meat, at least not when he was already under suspicion.

Their talk after the dinner party would be... interesting. Because they both seem to be chronically incapable of being direct. Though it would be fun to see Hannibal’s reaction if Bedelia asked him point blank whether she should pack her bags and take an indefinite vacation somewhere without an extradition treaty. Because she would know that events have reached a point where it is only a matter of time until Hannibal is found out. If Jack Crawford’s suspicions are roused to the point where he does something as blatant as taking food samples right at the dinner party in front of other guests, there is no way for Hannibal to disperse these suspicions anymore. With her help, he might be able to postpone the inevitable, but he will not be able to continue with his life as it has been.

Bedelia spending the night is definitely unplanned, and happens without ulterior motives from either of them. (Or if one of them has ulterior motives, it is Bedelia. But not nefarious ones, she just wants to protect him.) It probably gets late as they talk - and that talk may get close to an impromptu therapy session and be emotionally intense for both of them - and when Bedelia makes a remark about how she should go home, it’s clear she doesn’t really want to leave Plus, they have been sharing some drinks. So Hannibal offers her his guest bedroom. He knows her accepting his invitation is already a big step over her previously drawn boundaries for her, so this offer is risky, he doesn’t want to push too much and scare her off. Maybe he makes a comment about how he would love a chance to cook breakfast for her, to hide his nervousness.

And to his complete astonishment, not only does Bedelia accept his offer, she is the one who initiates the first intimate contact, who turns this from a purely platonic thing into something more.

As for the alibi, it is interesting to consider. Would Hannibal still go to get Gideon, if he had Bedelia in his bed? Or would he decide that this could wait another day?

I do think he considered Gideon a risk that needed to be eliminated, and the sooner the better. So I can see him leaving that night, though he would do so very reluctantly.

One thing I am absolutely certain of: he would not drug Bedelia to ensure that she remains sleeping. (As is heavily implied he did to Alana.) Which means Bedelia probably knows that he left the bed - and his house - for some time during the night.

Did she perhaps even wake up when he got out of the bed? And if so, might she have perhaps even told him, indirectly at least, to go do what he has to do, she will be here when he gets back? (Imagine Hannibal apologizing for waking her and wondering what he should do now, and Bedelia telling him it’s okay, she’s not really awake, by the time he gets back from the bathroom she will be fast asleep again. But they both know he’s not just going to the bathroom.)

The next morning, Hannibal would be up and preparing to cook breakfast when Jack shows up.

It’s interesting to note that in canon, Hannibal did not look inclined to tell Jack that Alana was there with him. I’m not sure what he would have done if she hadn’t come in when she did, but I do believe he would  not have told Jack about her. Probably would have talked with her and let her know he wouldn’t say anything despite the potential problems for himself. (In other words he would have put on a good show of the innocent guy who does not want to expose his lover to the man who up until now was a mutual friend.)

So, when Jack questions Hannibal, he wouldn’t say anything about Bedelia. But I think he also wouldn’t necessarily expect her to step in and provide him with an alibi. Especially if she knows definitely that he was not home all night, and therefore would have to lie.

He certainly wouldn’t expect her to interrupt his standoff with Jack to come to his defence. But he would be extremely happy and grateful about having Bedelia appear in the doorway, her eyes flashing with cold fire, stepping in to defend and protect him.

(Two things: Bedelia wouldn’t show up wearing nothing but Hannibal’s dress shirt. She would have borrowed his dressing gown at the very least. And unlike with Alana, I doubt Jack would simply accept Bedelia’s word that Hannibal was there all night without any comments or further questions. Bedelia might have to threaten lawyering up to get him to back off.)

Once Jack was gone, they would probably have another talk while Hannibal made breakfast for both of them.

Futamono Bedannibal AU idea: Hannibal didn't scare Bedelia into leaving, and instead he has finally managed to persuade her to accept his invitation and come to his dinner party.

As a consequence, it is Bedelia, not Alana, who witnesses Jack Crawford showing up and getting samples from all the food under the thinnest of pretenses. It is Bedelia who stays behind at the end of the party to talk with Hannibal, and who ends up spending the night with him.

And it is Bedelia who is there the next morning when Jack shows up once again, and who provides Hannibal with an alibi.

😍😍😍 OOH YESSS!!! Honestly season 2 would have been a million times better if Bedelia was in it (I understand it was scheduling issues but still). And this just changes the whole thing! Because for once, Bedelia knows Hannibal’s games and she would be wary about Jack taking the food since it might have meant exposing Hannibal. So she stays around after to warn him (not knowing he, for once, was smart enough to plan ahead). They spent the night, not as a means to an end (alibi), but because, well, they did have a thing together. I see something in that conversation that night would have sparked that tension. I don’t see Hannibal planning on using Bedelia as alibi because he respects her and besides, he knows he can’t control her feelings so he couldn’t be certain she would stay. Their affair was dependent on her and he was just happy it was happening at all even if it weren’t what he truly wanted (aka proudly showing off as Bedelia’s boyfriend and soon husband 😏). So the opportunity for the alibi would have been accidental but he would used it. And Bedelia would right away know something was up, but she would confirm his story, making it even more solid. Unlike Alana, Hannibal does not need to pretend with Bedelia and playing double games on both sides. Gawd just imagine the opportunities! Once again, the perfect couple against the clueless world 😏 Bedelia curbing Hannibal’s self destructive ideas and guiding him to more efficient ways of keeping the game on.

[teacupcollector]

The Snake and The Panther - Part 2

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

Summary-  Being married to Loki was all you wanted when he first decided to court you. It was like a Cinderella story and this was your happy ending. Sadly that was short lived when you found out about his infidelity. You are now on the planet Earth on the run from your inevitable confrontation. Living off the lands of Wakanda under the great leadership of the Black Panther himself and he seems to have taken an interest in you.

The only thing you were thinking was leaving. You needed to leave and get away from this place you call home. When you arrived at the Bifrost Heimdall still in his forward facing position tunes into you. “Why are you hear Mrs. Laufeyson?” You grunt at your last name but choose to let your anger subside. You know Heimdall isn’t to blame so you decide to give a vague explanation. 

“I would like to leave.” You say trying to keep your voice steady. “And nothing for your journey?” “Heimdall you are all-seeing and all-hearing. You know why I want to leave.” Heimdall hums in agreement. “You have only ever traveled through the Bifrost once. Are you sure you wouldn’t want someone to accompany you?” He asks and you nod. “Heimdall please...I want to leave.” You say solemnly “Where do you wish to go?” He asks and you sigh and pick at your nails. “Somewhere safe? Maybe... Where I can start over? Hide away where nothing can hurt me. Heimdall nods and prepares to open the Bifrost. “When will you be returning?” You begin to step through as it activates. “I... I don’t know if I will...” You say and turn toward him one more time. “Good bye Heimdall.” You say and step through. The bright lights of the Bifrost are blinding. Maybe Heimdall was right about having someone accompany you because as of right now you are flailing and stirring around with no control of your limbs. You didn’t even ask where he was sending you. For all you know you are being sent into the middle of an ocean or a war zone! But you knew Heimdall better then that. That thought alone was what kept you mostly calm  as you try and gain your control back. You also thought about Loki. Would he even notice you were gone? If he does would he even bother to look for you? Is he happy you are gone? All these thoughts were upsetting but you didn’t have time to think about anything else when suddenly you hit the ground. Everything went black T’challa sat upon his throne surrounded by the multiple tribe leaders from across Wakanda. They were in the middle of a heated debate when some of the Dora Milaje comes into the room. “What is it?” He asks startled at their loud entrance. “Something has entered our Northern force field. What ever it is broke right through it.” One of the warriors say. “I have already sent some to that location but we would like it if you’d follow.” They say and the king nods. “Give me a few moments and I will be right there.” He says as he stands. “I am afraid I must have this meeting cut short.” M’Baku stands up as well. “I will accompany you. You don’t know what threat you might face.” He says and T’challa  nods before exiting the throne room and going to his chambers to get out of his formal wear and into his fighting gear which is ultimately he Black Panther Suit. He is soon making his way toward the breach. In his company was a number of The Dora Milaje, M’Baku, and his sister Shuri. Shuri claims that she needs to see the damage of the force field but in reality she is really looking for some form of adventure. As they approach they see a multitude of lines that charred the grass. This catches T’challas attention. The group is approached my the Warriors who were first on the scene. “We have seen these markings before My King but I am unsure of who this visitor is...” She says when Okoye. Steps forward blocking T’challa from the possible threat. T’challa only nods as he and his group walk forward. As he moves past the group of women pointing their spears at their target he sees a woman laying in the middle of the circle. He takes a few steps closer to examine her. She is clad in magnificent fabric that isn’t local to anywhere in Wakanda. Her (H/L) (H/C) is matted and muddied by the dirt she is laying in. Her face is covered by her hair as he squats down and moves it to see more of her (S/C) skin. He moves two fingers to the pulse point of her neck and feels for it. “She is alive.” T’challa announces. “She is from Asgard I am assuming so right now she is a guest. Please have her taken home and dressed in more comfortable clothes.” He says standing up and some of the woman gather around her and pick her up. “Are you sure this is wise T’challa?” M’Baku asks taking ahold the crook of his elbow. “She could be a threat.” T’challa only responds with. “We are at peace with Asgard. I know they wouldn’t willingly send someone to harm us. We must give this woman a chance.” M’baku only grunts as he removes his hand from him. As they make their way back Shuri makes her way beside her brother. “I wonder how Nakia will feel about this.” T’challa looks over at her shocked. “What?” He asks somewhat taken aback. “Why would she wonder about this?” He asks and Shuri smirks. “A beautiful woman who was sent by the Gods appear on our doorstep. I feel like this is the beginning of an end.” She says with a laugh. “What end do you mean? “ He shakes his head before sighing. “You speak nonsense sister. You read to many romance novels.” Shuri pouts. “As for Nakia we are working things out...” Shuri only rolls her eyes. “You say that every time brother. I just hope you don’t let this go to your head.” She says before falling back to look at the mysterious stranger.

You slowly wake looking up at a tall ceiling. You gasp sitting up fully. You look to see a woman in armor with a spear at her side. “It is good that you are awake. I will get My King at once.” She says bowing her head before exiting the room. You look around shocked as you remove the thick blanket and  placing your feet on the ground. You stand up slowly and move about the room. You look around to see a wardrobe with a mirror. You walk up to it and see that your clothes have been changed and your hair has been let down from your formal up-do. You see a window and walk up to it. As you look out you see a sunset over a vast field. You can see animals doted over the landscape. looking over you can see some buildings. You have never seen any building like the ones you were looking at. You were in awe of everything. Never had you seen a sunset as beautiful as this one. Even the air smelled and felt different. You were brought out of your trance by a knock on the door. “C-come in...” You say in Asgardian. A man walks in donning black formal robes with his hands clasped behind his back. “Hello.” He says gently as to not scare you. “Do you speak English?” You nod slowly. “Would it be alright if we talk?” He asks and you nod.  He gestures to a table and chairs set in the middle of the room. You slowly walk over and sit down clasping your hands in front of you on your lap.  “You are from Asgard correct?” You nod keeping your eyes anywhere but him. “I am T’challa. I rule over the country of Wakanda.” You look at him for a moment. He seems patient and keeps a small, kind smile on his face. “Is this an Alien Planet? What Realm am I in?” You ask and he chuckles. “I am afraid you are the Alien. You are on Earth.” You look shocked. “Midgard!” You exclaim. “I believe that is what you Asgardians all it. Yes.” “I apologize for my outburst Your Majesty.” You say bowing your head quickly. “No need for that miss. Now what is your name?” He asks and you look up again. “I am Lady (Y/N) of As- Uh... Just (Y/N) is fine. I’m sorry...” You says mumbling the last part. “No need to apologize (Y/N) but I would like to discuss your business here. We have never seen you before.” You shake your head. “I’m not hear for official business.” You say bowing your head. 

“I don’t feel comfortable talking about it but I will say is that I ran away... If you wish me not to stay I will leave immediately.” You say keeping your head down. T’challa nods. “No need to leave miss. I will gladly house you. I am sure whoever delivered you here does not mean us any harm so there is no reason for us to remove you.” You give a small smile. “Thank you T’challa. I am sorry for any damage the Bifrost may have caused.” He stands up with a smile. “No need for apologies. It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.” He says as he bows his head. “I will be leaving now but I must ask as you are my guest.” You hum in question. “Would you like to accompany me for dinner? You must be hungry.” You nod as you stand up. “If that would be okay...” T’challa only smiles. “A friend of Thor is a friend of mine Lady (Y/N). I will send someone for you when dinner is ready.” He gestures his arm to the right of him toward the bed. “Please rest. I would hate it if you feel fatigued.” You nod and yawn. This makes T’challa chuckle before exiting and shutting the door behind him. Taglist @rainyrebelconnoisseur​

[slasherhaven]

If I may request, could I request the slashers (you can choose whichever!) getting ready to end their future s/o, before they meekly look up at them and ask ".. are you going to hurt me?" And if they give an answer or nod, s/o just nods solemnly and appears to accept their fate?

The slashers’ future S/O asking "Are you going to hurt me?":

Thomas Hewitt

When the true intentions of the Hewitt family made themselves knows, you ran. Of course you did, who wouldn’t?

You had managed to escape the house, running across the large field. But you were tired and the more you thought about it, the less likely escape seemed.

They would know the area better, the empty land spread for what felt like miles, the only thing waiting for you was a dusty road in the middle of nowhere that barely anyone drove down.

So you also came to a stop, panting slightly and beginning to accept that you were about to get killed somewhere in Texas.

You heard him coming, the chainsaw loud and filling you with nerves.

You turned to face him, seeing him walk towards you, chainsaw lowered and shutting off.

Thomas was confused as to why you had stopped running, why you had turned back to him with no real fear on your face.

"...are you going to hurt me?” your question surprised him. Of course you already knew the answer.

Your question was so soft, so...calm.

Thomas wasn’t sure how to respond to that. A victim had never spoken to him, never asked him a question. He came back to his senses and nodded.

You nodded solemnly and seemed to just being...waiting for something to happen. 

It tugged at Tommy’s heart, something within him was just telling him to not hurt you, that he actually had to protect you.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, guiding you back in the direction of the house. Maybe he could speak to Luda May about offering you a different fate.

Michael Myers

It was a normal night for Michael, he was looking for his next kill.

He had crept into your home and found you in the living room, watching the television. Spotting the intruder, you leapt up but recognising the mask from the news reports, you knew who it was and that running was hopeless. Nobody escaped him.

"...are you going to hurt me?” he wasn’t expecting the question. Normally it’s more screaming, pleading and running. But you’re just meekly looking up at him with acceptance on your face, you already knew the answer.

He nodded, deciding to humour you with a response. But then you surprised him again.

You just nodded solemnly, closing your eyes and hanging your head. Waiting for the piercing pain of his knife...but it never came

He has never had a victim accept their fate like that, it was almost discomforting, certainly discouraging. Yet also...intriguing. 

Suddenly the urge to kill you had faded, which actually annoyed Michael.

When no pain came, you curiously opened your eyes to find yourself along. He was gone...left as silently as he arrived. You couldn’t help but wonder when if he would return and, if he did, what he would want.

Jason Voorhees

Jason had cornered you in one of the cabins, where you had turned back to him. You didn’t look frantic or panicked, you just looked up at him meekly.

"...are you going to hurt me?” you asked quietly. You knew the answer was probably yes but maybe there was still some humanity left in the legend of camp crystal lake.

Jason was caught off guard by your question, by the softness in your voice, by how you seemed to accept your fate.

He had watched the group the arrived at the camp before making a move to deal with them. And he had seen you, you had caught his attention more than the others.

You’re gentle, sweet, understanding. You clearly aren’t like the other people Jason had seen you with at the camp.

His mother would have liked you and maybe that was what told him that he didn’t need to hurt you...but it wasn’t like he could let you leave.

He lowered his weapon some more, hoping that it would put you at ease at least a little bit.

He’d hold out his hand, a silent peace offering, and wait for you to hesitantly take it. Being patient and finding it adorable how much smaller your hand was than his.

Jason would guide you through the camp and woods safely, back to his cabin where you could rest.

Brahms Heelshire

Brahms hadn’t been planning on revealing himself to you, not yet, but he had no choice. Somebody had broken into the house, mostly likely with the intention to steal anything of worth.

And Brahms couldn’t take the risk of them hurting you. Plus, he doesn’t like strangers in his home.

You had seen him burst out of the wall, killing the intruder. 

When he stood and turned to you, you were looking back at him with wide, unsure eyes.

"...are you going to hurt me?" you managed to ask.

It wasn’t difficult to put 2 and 2 together and figure out that Brahms was alive, all grown up, and standing in front of you.

Brahms is taken back because he doesn’t really know the answer. If you ran...he had no choice.

“...not if you stay” Brahms tells you and you nod, not seeming to fight your fate. “Are you going to stay?” he’d ask, needing an answer so he can know what to do.

You nodded again, still not screaming at him or running away. You’re not like the others, you’re better.

Brahms moves closer and you still don’t try to flee. He slowly wraps his arms around you, feeling a sense of victory when you carefully return his embrace.

You’ve accepted your fate here and you aren’t fighting it, he’s thankful for that because he had grown fond of you during your time in the house, he truly didn’t want to hurt you.

Bo Sinclair

You had run once you realised that something more sinister was happening in the town, but Bo had followed. And he had finally caught up with you.

Right then and there you knew that you had lost, that you barely ever had a chance, and you weren’t going to fight it.

So you turned to the man, not sure what he wanted from you but knowing it wasn’t good.

"...are you going to hurt me?" you asked, voice quiet as you gave in to your fate.

“Going to sooner or later. Might as well make it easy on yourself” Bo smirked but that cocky look slowly faded.

He had told plenty of people similar things before in the past, telling them to stop running and prolonging the inevitable. But none of them ever listened, of course they didn’t, they kept running and pleading, all in vain.

You though...you just nodded a little, not looking for a way out. A sad but oddly respectable surrender. You saw there was no way out, that you were at his mercy, and you just accepted it.

For a moment he pitied you, then respected you, then...well, he wasn’t sure how he felt.

But if you could keep a similar attitude, as in knowing that you aren’t leaving this town and that you can’t get one over on him, maybe there could be a place here for you.

Why he was even considering keeping you around, he wasn’t sure. But that didn’t matter, you were smart enough to know that you weren’t going anyway. So if he could trust you to not escape, he could trust you to help out around town. He’d just have to keep his eye on you.

Vincent Sinclair

You had been running from Bo, trying to escape him. Sprinting through the little town until you collided with something strong, making you stumble back and look up at the masked man.

Vincent hadn’t expected for you to run into him either, but he knew what he had to do now that he had you. Of only you weren’t looking up at him with such a gentle gaze.

“...are you going to hurt me?” you asked quietly, as if you knew that Vincent was the more timid brother.

He wasn’t sure how to respond, sure that you already knew the answer though. Bo would certainly hurt you without question but...well, he had been watching you since you walked into the town.

You had seemed gentle and sweet then and now even more so. 

Vincent didn’t respond but you took that as a ‘yes’. So you nodded, glancing down at your feet as you accepted your fate.

God, that confused him even more. How could he hurt you when you just seemed so...meek, like you had accepted your fate and were handing yourself over to him.

He wasn’t sure what came over him but when Bo came around the corner to catch you, Vincent placed a hand on your shoulder and moved you behind him. Standing between you and his brother.

Something within Vincent wanted to protect you, to wipe that sad look off of your face. He wondered what he could do to convince Bo to let him try.

Lester Sinclair

Lester had taken you into the town in the first place, as he does with most victims. What he didn’t expect was for you to escape and end up running into him again. He recognised you instantly, you had been kind and sweet during the drive into town

"...are you going to hurt me?" the question isn’t aggressive, not filled with disgust or fear, it’s quiet and soft.

Oh God...what kind of question is that. No, he can’t hurt you. Not when you ask him something like that, not when you look at him like that. 

You don’t even look afraid, just like you have accepted what is going to happen to you. It breaks his heart.

He isn’t going to hurt you...but his brothers would, he can’t risk that now. He couldn’t let that happen.

“Nah...nah, I ain’t gonna hurt ya. You’re alright with me. C’mon, let’s get you somewhere safe” he shook his head, holding his hand out to you.

It was supposed to be a kind gesture but he didn’t really expect you to take it. But you did and his heart clenched again. 

He wouldn’t let his brothers touch you, he’ll take you back to his house and protect you. He’ll fight Bo on the matter.

He’ll look after you, take responsibility over you! And he certainly isn’t going to hurt you.

Bubba Sawyer

Bubba had been sent after you when the family decided that you were the next victim, which didn’t surprise him at all.

It didn’t take long for him to find you, honestly a little surprised to find you not panicking or running, just looking up at him with an expression he didn’t recognise.

“...are you going to hurt me?” your gentle question made him lower his chainsaw, it slowly shutting off.

Bubba really does have a soft heart and you just appealed to it completely. The way you meekly looked up at him, the sad but accepting expression on your face, how you didn’t scream at him or run from him.

He didn’t want to hurt you. Just look at you...he couldn’t hurt you.

They didn’t need to kill you, they had what they needed until the next lot of victims rolled through. You could be spared but there was no way you could leave, you could tell other people about what you saw and get them all in trouble...

Maybe Drayton would let you stay. His other brothers wouldn’t mind, they’re a lot to handle but they’d enjoy the new face, maybe he could convince Drayton if he promised to be responsible for you!

When Bubba moved closer to you, you didn’t panic, just became more timid. He couldn’t blame you for still being afraid.

He’d place the chainsaw down, reaching out to gently stroke your hair while making some incomprehensible babbling. He wanted to comfort you, you reassure you. 

Then he would take you to see his brothers...and try to convince Drayton that this would be alright for the family.

Billy Lenz

Of course, you had already been aware that somebody was targeting you and the others in the house. You had received your fair share of phone calls.

You had been sleeping but he hadn’t been quietly, you shot up in bed and looked at him, seeing the unfamiliar figure standing in the dark and holding something sharp. 

You knew it was the man on the phone, you weren’t stupid.

"...are you going to hurt me?" your voice was quiet but not afraid, a sad sort of acceptance on your face.

Billy froze. You weren’t supposed to wake up. You certainly weren’t supposed to talk to him. Scream, plead, beg, cry, sure he would expect that. But...not this.

He’d hesitate, not sure what to do. Seemingly as scared of you and you are of him. But he’d nod.

Surprising him again, you nodded. He could see the tears welling in your eyes but you didn’t panic, only accepted your fate and hung your head.

Billy kept his weapon in his hand, just in case this was a trick, and approached you.

“It’s okay, pretty piggy...Billy won’t hurt you...Billy likes you” he’d pat you on the head head, like he was trying to reassure you. It was true, he did like you. You had always been his favourite to watch, and he was glad that you weren’t running away now.

Otis Driftwood

You had been caught by the family, thrown into a room, and left to wait.

It was a while before the door opened and Otis walked in, already confused by your reaction.

You let him approach without screaming or even backing up. You just looked up at him meekly and he could already see it in your eyes. You had accepted what was happening to you. He oddly respected that.

"...are you going to hurt me?" you asked. Surprisingly enough, he had never been asked that. Everyone just assumed that he would, and they assumed right.

“Oh I’m going to do more than hurt ya” Otis told you, almost sounding amused.

You just nodded, a single tear rolling down your cheek, before hanging your head. Just accepting that there was no way out of this.

Okay, why the fuck did he feel bad?! He never felt bad!

Everyone screamed and sobbed. They fought and tried to run. They pleaded or insulted him. It’s what all the victims did! So why weren’t you?! It was actually a little frustrating to him.

Maybe you would be different...interesting...fun...even if it was just to break you. Now Otis was invested.

He’d take hold of your arm, pulling you towards him. “C’mon, time for ya to meet the family” he’d drag you through the house, you trying to keep up with him without tripping.

For now, he’s not going to directly physically harm you...he had something else planned for you.

Play your cards right and he might just start to warm up to you.

Baby Firefly

You had been caught by the family, thrown into a room, and left to wait.

It was a while before the door opened and Baby came skipping in, excited to get her hands on her new plaything. 

But you didn’t react the way she expected you too. Victims usually reacted better to her than Otis until she got started, then they realised that she wouldn’t take it easy on them, but she never got this reaction.

You didn’t cower away, beg for help, or even cry...which was kind of boring.

She walked right up to you, huffing slightly at your lack of reaction.

“...are you going to hurt me?” your question made her smile again. So you did know why you were here!

“Oh you bet I am!” she grins, her excitement returning.

But you just nodded, accepting your fate, and hanging your head. Just waiting for her to do whatever it was she wanted to do.

Baby huffed in annoyance again but was curious about your reaction.

“Now, don’t you cry” she wiped away the stray tear that rolled down your cheek, “you’re an interesting one, we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

Maybe you would be more fun without having to hurt you. Well, there’s no harm in giving it a chance!

Yautja (Predator)

You’re collision had been purely accidental, he hadn’t been hunting you and you hadn’t gone looking for him.

But once you were greeted with the large intimidating creature, you froze.

You looked at him, taller than any human you had met, obviously much stronger too, and was that blood???

“...are you going to hurt me?” you genuinely didn’t know what he planned on doing with you now that you had seen him. He was dangerous, that was obvious, but did he have evil intent?

He’d tilt his head at you curiously. What an interesting human...

But he’d shake his head ‘no’. He’s not going to hurt you. In the politest way possible, you simply aren’t a worthy hunt.

You were braver than you probably gave yourself credit for, he already knew that. You were looking right up at him, despite it being meekly. You had asked him a question, even if it was with fear for your own life.

But most interestingly to the Yautja was that you had seemingly accepted your fate if he was here to harm you. A part of him respected that, dying with dignity unlikely many humans, another part of him though you should fight for your well being some more.

Oh sweet little human...he’s going to have to work on your survival instincts.

[im-poe-dameron]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 || 𝐇𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞

a/n: i might not be as active anymore, because things in life are not going well, but i managed to finish this as a pre-halloween fic. yes. it is another series about din djarin set in an au (i have no control over my actions) and hopefully it actually gets more than two parts, buuuut i'm really in love with this fic. so i hope you guys like it and enjoy a lovely ass spooky week! it's kinda shitty writing, but hopefully you find it interesting. thank you to @themarcusmoreno for being amazing and beta-reading for me. i don't do tags anymore and instead have a library blog now @moonlights-library.

this is a kind of prologue/prequel to the overall series but it can be read as a one shot i guess. there's no set time for this one shot to take place, but I'm thinking it's sometime in the medieval era. idk i haven't worked things out timeline wise. the series will be in modern day though.

summary: beware the witch that lives in the woods. a warning that he did not heed for himself.

word count: 7.4k (i guess!?!)

pairing: din djarin x witch!fem!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT so MINORS OFF MY LAWN, cussing, violence, death, p in v sex, rough sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, minor hand job, potion usage (be wise with the herbs y'all), violence although it's not much, mention of death, reader does not DIE IN THE END. just letting you know. let me know if i missed anything.

“𝑰𝒇 𝑰 𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝑯𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑰 𝑾𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝑷𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓”

They say the witch in the woods is the one to fear.

To stay away from, because to go near her was to damn yourself to a life of curses. The witch in the woods. A nickname created by those who feared the being of absolute power; men who couldn’t handle no longer being able to control a woman. It was invigorating to know that they held nothing against you - that even if they wanted to hurt you...they couldn’t.

“The witch of the woods,” you mumbled, your lips curving up at the corners as the memory of their fear came back to the forefront of your mind.

What ridiculous notions these humans came up with, but who were you to disagree with them? For you found yourself using the same name they did. Witch. A being of power and you relished in it. Welcomed the fear and hatred, because it meant they wouldn’t try you, would leave you to live alone in the woods. To you that was more a gift than a curse.

The winds shifted, bringing the aroma of the wildflowers that grew around your small cottage with it. A delicate floral scent that you’d grown to love, but beneath that you could sense something deeper. Darker than the buds, than even the trees that surrounded you. Some part of you recognized it - felt the hair stand up on the back of your neck at the realization that they had found you.

That he had found you.

Standing from where you were gathering herbs, you set the basket handle across your forearm, walking slowly back towards your home. Ignoring it wouldn’t make the issue vanish, but it would give you time to consider your options. If they had in fact found you that meant you wouldn’t have much time to flee. Unlike last time where you were prepared for them, this time they had sent him unannounced.

What confused you was you hadn’t felt him coming - couldn’t see him within the view of your sight.

Had they finally found a way to cloak their hunters?

That fact wouldn’t surprise you. What did however was the knowledge that they had sent him to capture you - either a mistake or a distraction on their part. You felt him seconds before returning towards the front of your cottage. A man in black armor stood near the gate, a sword attached to his back and helmet in his hands. You recognized the crest that was branded across the front of the black metal - knew that whatever was there would also be along his skin somewhere.

A soldier for her.

Funny how fate intertwines two souls together - as if it were making a mockery of the outcomes that would no doubt be inevitable. You would have laughed...if you found the joke even remotely entertaining. Yet this had happened before. More times than you wished it to.

He would find you on behalf of her orders, attempting to bring you to her so she could finally get her way. A woman who wanted nothing more than to kill you and that’s what you laughed at. Not the constant recurring situation, but at the sheer stupidity of it - nothing changed, nothing shifted even for a moment. For what would happen if that happened? Would the fates curse you in some way? Would they bring hell down upon you and the soul that you were forever tied to?

Turning towards you he watched as you headed towards the front steps of your home. Not bothering to even acknowledge his presence, because you knew why he was here if he hadn’t hunted you through the woods. The one thing that continued to happen over and over again until eventually he’d be back in her grasp once more. No longer free to hold onto his own mind and grasp for the memories that were hidden within it.

“A forest,” he said, shutting the door behind him and dropping his helmet onto the table.

Your heart twisted at the sight, another memory breaking to the surface. His helmet stranded on the ground beside your bare feet as he was dragged away from you - his screams ringing through the air. You wanted to save him then; tried to will yourself to go after him and keep her from destroying him once more. Only even you knew. To mess with the balance that nature has enacted is to create chaos and once that happened there would be no taking that back.

So you watched as he was taken from you once more.

A memory you would prefer to forget.

“It has what I need,” you said, dropping the basket on the counter in the small kitchen area. Of course the cauldron that hung above the fireplace was where the herbs would go but you would have to wash them clean in the basin and buckets you acquired while on your trip to this place.

“What is it you need?” he asked.

He was afraid of you.

You could hear it in the way his voice remained level, too strained to show he was relaxed in your presence and he hadn’t sat down yet. Instead he remained by the door, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched you move about your house. He knew your movements, had seen them before, but couldn’t exactly place where. All he could recall was the sounds of an ocean outside the windows, sunlight streaming in through windows that you used to leave open.

He knew you - that much was clear to him - but how was a different question yet to be answered.

“I needed to get away,” you replied, tying a piece of string around the bundle of lavender you had found on the outskirts of town.

People wouldn’t like you entering town and so you abided by their rules. Stay within your area of freedom in order to avoid them and the wrath that you knew came from those that feared what they didn’t know. The amount of times you’d been spit on, called demon, temptress, child of the devil - truly the insults were endless - was torture within itself. Only to be killed because of those things was worse.

It was a horrible thing to die from - you would know.

“She’s-”

“Coming for me. I know that,” you muttered, shifting your body and bringing your hand up to bring the fire to light, the bundled herbs you were holding tossed into yet another basket.

You rarely used your magic while on the run, because she could find you that way. Sense your power somehow wherever she was, and so you found yourself leading a practically mundane lifestyle. The only magic you allowed yourself to use was potions, brews, things that didn’t take much out of you. Speaking over the herbs was one thing; conjuring things was another. If you were to go that far you would have been captured by now and yet there he stood.

He found you without the capability of tracking.

“Did she send you?” you asked, dropping another part of your herb collection onto the table.

Shaking his head, he stepped further into the house, watching the fire begin to warm up whatever remnants of your previous potion was still there. “I came because of something else.”

“Does that mean you remember?” You wanted his answer to be yes. He recalled every moment, every memory that you two shared. Yet there was some small piece of you that wanted him to say no - to prove that he was in fact there on orders and not back to the man you knew.

He nodded and your heart sank. “I had a dream,” he began, turning to meet your gaze. “You were calling me a name. One I knew to be my own, but that’s not the only name you knew me by is it?”

Should you tell him?

Would it be worth it in the end?

It never was, but how could you resist when he looked at you like that? When he gazed upon you as if he’d found the other half of his mind, his heart, his soul. In a way he had - he was tied to you as much as you were to him - and yet you wanted to say no you didn't call him by any other name. That you only knew him as enemy rather than friend. Except he had been more than a friend...he’d been your lover.

His brown eyes bore into yours, asking you to respond to his questions.

“I-” you started, mouth opening only to have the words stop at the base of your throat, unwilling to go further.

How could you? When life seemed intent on pulling him away from you.

Turning towards the cauldron you poured water into it in order for the rest of what you used to unstick from the sides, allowing you to dump it somewhere else. There he remained. Standing behind you with his eyes rarely straying from what you were doing; he liked to watch you make your potions. It was something he found fascinating and even you had to admit it felt nice to have him back in your home once more.

You rushed back to the table, grinding up the herbs you needed in your mortar you poured them into a cup. The movements were natural to you - each measurement already detailed within your mind as well as the book that sat open before you. Each time you made this specific combination played on a loop in your mind. Would he remember after this or would you be pushing the oppressed memories even further into the farther reaches of his mind?

“Can I help with anything?” he asked, reaching a hand out to turn the book in his direction only to have your hand slamming it closed.

“Don’t touch that.”

You didn’t want to be terse with him, but you still weren’t completely convinced that he was back to himself. Until he willingly drank what you were making him, would you finally have faith in the man that stood before you. It was hard not to welcome him with open arms. Except you were forced to continue, pouring the hot water into the same cup as the herbs.

Doing this was simply for survival purposes.

Right?

“Drink this,” you said, handing him the cup gently.

He glanced down at the now murky looking water, eyes wary of what exactly you were giving to him. “May I ask what’s in it?”

“Funny,” you mumbled. “You trust your dreams enough to seek me out and yet you won’t trust me?”

“That’s not-” You smiled, cutting off his words.

“I’m not going to poison you. There’s merely a small amount of Jasmine, Yarrow, and Bacopa.” Sighing at the clear confusion in his face you began to explain their uses only to realize that there wasn’t much time to begin with. “None of them are poisonous. Trust me. They’re just there to help draw out what she locked away.”

“Do you mean what I can’t remember?”

Nodding you dragged the chair closer to him. “I’d sit down. The herbs do nothing unless I help them.”

You waited, allowing him to remove bits and pieces of his armor until he was in simply a pair of worn in pants and a loose shirt. It would be so easy to kiss him like this. Press your lips to his and remember what being loved felt like, but it would be a lie of your own making. He could not love until he knew who he was to you - who he was to history.

“Lean back,” you murmured, dipping your fingers into the small bottle of frankincense oil next to the empty cup he had set down. “This won’t feel good.”

He jolted. “What do you mean?”

Pressing your fingers to his temples you pushed his head back until his eyes were watching you, the fear spilling through and breaking past the brave face he tried to keep on. You should have specified who would be in pain; he would endure it just as he had done before, but you - you would be in agony all over again. As if this was happening for the first time all over again.

Just as you expected his eyes slipped closed, consciousness already falling under the spell of exhaustion he was put in from the tea. You took a deep breath, giving your body a moment to catch up with where his mind was. How far he’d fallen into a slumber and how far you’d have to dive in order to find him beneath the waters of his mind. One could lose themselves this way. Forever venturing into a human's mind until they were trapped for all eternity, but you’d done this enough times to recall when to pull yourself out.

“I call upon the powers of the old, of the ancient, and of the new,” you whispered, shutting your eyes and searching for the faint tug within your body that would lead you to where you needed to go. “Give me strength to resurrect his memories.”

Latching onto it you gave into the feeling, relinquishing control and following where it wanted, the light of something beginning to illuminate the darkness around you. Standing in a darkened hallway you turned to see him standing beside you, his eyes unfocused and hazy. He would lead you, because only he knew where they were. So without hesitation you grabbed onto his hand, stepping after him and falling into the pit of nothingness.

“Give him the strength to fight against the powers of her,” you said, feeling the air rush around you as you continued to fall until your feet hit the ground of something.

Only to see a door.

Different from before and yet everything was still as you remembered it.

Reaching out you pushed it open with little force and stepped through slowly with him following close behind.

384 BCE

Gasping you gripped onto his shoulder and feeling him drive himself deeper. A simple argument between lovers had somehow spiraled into a dance of passion that left you begging for more. It was rushed, sloppy, bordering on sheer desperation but it was what the both of you craved. After not seeing him for weeks on end from a hunting trip that was meant for him to find food to last through the winter, you were agitated when he came home.

Not because he hadn’t found anything - he had - you just didn’t appreciate him expecting you to stay home and never stray. You of course had to go out in search of herbs for the work you did to keep the both of you protected. Only this was him you were talking about. The man who dragged you back to the small cottage screaming curses at him until he pushed you against the door roughly.

Hiking up your skirts to sheath himself roughly into you, eliciting a cry of surprise from you. The stretch wasn’t unwelcome and in fact it was what the both of you needed to temper down the flames of annoyance that were rising, but it didn’t end there.

An hour after eating you found yourselves naked on the floor of the cottage, your legs over his shoulders as he pounded into you with a power you’d missed feeling. He grunted into your mouth, watching in glee as your eyes rolled back and the runes on your body flared to life. You certainly didn’t expect the fire he had stoked to life in the fireplace to grow intensely, but you didn’t hold a particular control over your powers at a time like this.

“Oh-” you cried out, nails nearly piercing his skin. “Right there my love.”

“Tell me,” he spit out, shifting forward even more to drag your hands above your head. It sent him deeper into you with each thrust until you were sure your vision had gone blurry and would never return back to normal. “Do you love me?”

You nodded quickly, tears falling from the corners of your eyes and sliding down into your hair. “Yes!”

“Are. You. Mine?” Each word was enunciated by a thrust, forcing your body forward and your legs up even more. You could practically feel him in your chest, the pressure building faster than it had before. Some part of you found this to be insanity, but another part - one much stronger - loved how he manhandles you. Took you in a way that had your legs shaking and breath stuttering in your chest.

“I’m yours!” you screamed it, the pressure breaking and exploding around you.

He practically fell on top of you at the feeling of your walls clamping down around him, but he forced himself up, teeth digging into your shoulder as he shuddered his way through his own release. White flashed behind your eyes and you wished so badly to recover quickly just to watch him fall apart, but if anything his constant thrusting forced you higher. Until you were crying out in ecstasy, chanting his name for each eternal being to hear.

“My love,” you whispered, managing to open your eyes fully to see him panting above you. Red streaking across his cheeks eyes dilated - he looked feral and you wanted to see more of that.

“Your love,” he replied, lowering your legs and settling on you gently. His lips met yours in a kiss that breathed air back into your lungs. “Always yours.”

“Always mine?” Brushing his hair back from his forehead you stroked the bare patch of his beard with your thumb. “How can you be so sure? Especially when she won’t stop hunting either of us. She believes that you belong to her not-”

He kissed you again, licking softly into your mouth until all thoughts were pushed out and nothing but him remained. “She will never be able to break the bond you have to me. Never.”

“I hope that to be true,” you whispered somberly, pressing your forehead to his.

“I love you.” He smiled as he uttered those words, finally giving you his heart after so long of knowing one another.

Ironic that he was originally sent to kill you and yet found himself being captured by you, heart, body, and soul.

“And I love you...Din.”

His eyes flew open as he raggedly gasped for air, clutching at his neck. You however were thrown back by the force of your own power, landing against the door and slamming your head against it. That would hurt later, but all you could care about was what happened before you. He remembered - all of it. Everything she had taken from him now rushed back into his mind once again, settling in their intended spots and giving him everything he needed to be whole once more.

“I can’t-” he said, voice gone due to the dryness in his throat and mouth.

You scrambled from where you sat, reaching for the water and handing it to him. “That would be the cause of the valerian.”

He looked up, eyes narrowing in your direction. “I thought-” he coughed, clearing his throat “-you said the tea only contained three ingredients.”

You waved your hand, dismissing his annoyance. “I could hardly tell you that I needed you unconscious for the spell to take it’s full effect. You wouldn’t have trusted me with that state you were in.”

Din rubbed his forehead, feeling his head throb from the effects. “No matter how many times you do it, that spell never gets any easier.”

“But it did work right?”

Again you feared his response, because what if - after all that work - none of it had taken effect. What if you were left with nothing but a man who held only a few memories of the lives you spent together?

He smiled, standing up to his full height and grasping onto your wrist. “Always yours,” he said, reminding you of the vow you had taken together.

One so strong that not even the darkest of beings could break it. You wanted to cry from joy, the weight lifting from your shoulders and allowing you a chance to finally breathe. He was standing before you - free of her control once more. Only something in the base of your stomach told you to remain wary of what might happen. She might not be able to track you, but she could track him and that fact settled over you too late.

You were already dragging him towards you, lips slotting against his to feel what you felt before. What you had missed for so many years. You had missed him - would always ache for him - and still nothing would feel as good as when he placed his hands on you. When he kissed you like he’d never hold you again within this lifetime. You didn’t want to consider that fact, but this might actually be the last time you see him.

She’d gotten far more clever with her tricks of hiding him away.

“Din,” you gasped, hands digging into his hair and falling back against the counter behind you.

Surely the universe would allow the both of you this moment together?

His hands yanked up the skirts of your dress, shoving them up around your waist to pull at what you wore beneath. You secretly cursed the layers of clothing that adorned your body, but the warmth of his palms against your skin was worth it in the end. The feeling of him pressed against you would forever be a feeling unlike any other. Before you could tug at the ties of his pants he was dropping to his knees, pulling a leg over his shoulder and forcing you forward until his mouth met you.

Gasping, you dug a hand into his hair, tugging sharply at his curls and trying to hold in the sounds that threatened to break free. However the sharp bite above your hip bone had you yelping in shock. Did he wish for you to make noise? You assumed so by the glimmer in his eyes. One that you’d seen before; one you missed dearly. His tongue slipped between your folds, licking up what you practically dripped down his chin and he moaned at the taste.

You couldn’t recall the last time he’d done this, but you couldn’t care less. Not when he was slowly sucking your clit into his mouth, making sounds with his mouth that left you shaking in place. So long you’d waited for him to come back to you and you begged with the ancient powers that had come before you to let him stay. You would have bargained your own soul at this point to keep the man you loved with you.

“Fuck!” you shouted, head falling back and hips thrusting sharply against his tongue to feel the pressure build even faster. “You’re going to make me-”

“Good,” he growled, two fingers plunging into your cunt. Only to pull them out just as quickly and begin a pace that nearly forced you to the ground. “I want to stay like this forever. Buried between your legs.”

Smiling you breathed rapidly, your hips shifting from his mouth to fucking yourself on his fingers. “I’d let you,” you breathed, eyes shutting from the sheer bliss of this.

How he felt, how he made you feel. All of it overwhelmed you to the point of near madness and yet you would welcome it like an old friend. You would happily drown in this feeling rather than lose it once more. Love was it’s own kind of torture - sweet right up until the bitter end, but it was a torture you needed. One that kept you alive every day and every night.

You had waited lifetimes for him to return to you and you’d wait lifetimes more after that.

“I begged the universe to bring you back to me,” you said, meeting his eyes as he licked lightly at your clit, drawing out the building pressure within your body until your stomach began to tighten.

“And here I am,” he whispered, fingers searching for something within your body.

The squeal you let out as he pressed against the spot along your walls caused a smile to bloom on his face. Eyes gauging your every expression - every reaction - as he sped up. Striking against it with each thrust of his fingers until you were shouting his name - begging him to let you fall apart. He had meant what he said. After so long of not knowing who he was, who he was meant to be with, he would remain here giving you as much pleasure as you could muster. It gave him a sense of control over his life again.

Allowed him to partake in the happier aspects of life rather than be buried within the darkness that had enveloped his mind.

“Is it good my love?” he asked, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your clit, licking at it again until you could do nothing but nod your head and moan unabashedly in wanton ecstasy.

The fear had washed away from your body, every worry you held onto in order to survive no longer seemed of any importance to you. Not when he made you feel this way with merely his fingers and tongue. His name was a spell on your lips, chanted as if it would give you powers older than the universe itself. By the way he gripped your thigh, pressing himself even closer until he was drowning in your taste, he liked what he heard.

Nothing was more lovely than the sound of you incoherently babbling praises, pleas, whatever you could manage to spill free. He’d missed this...missed you.

Your walls beared down on his fingers, sucking them back into your body and he licked steadily at your clit, sucking on it with a wet sound loud enough to have your body bend to his will. Each sound was filthier than the last, but he was desperate for more of your taste. Would do what it took to drink down your slick as if it was the ambrosia of the gods above.

“Come for me,” he said, spitting on your clit only to dive back in. His eyes focused solely on your face as you built higher, higher, higher and eventually couldn’t control the actions of your body.

The fire across the room grew to a lethal height until it practically licked up the rock walls, heating up the house until you were both sweating. Screaming your head fell back and your fingers dug sharply into his hair - keeping him in place as your hips grinded against his mouth roughly. You felt the coil snap, saw something flash behind your eyes as an aura of colors shimmered in the air. The breath in your lungs was shoved out, leaving you panting, floating back into your body and nearly collapsing onto the ground.

Still he licked at you, gently thrusting his tongue into you and tasting your release. It wasn’t until you flinched away from his mouth did he stop and surge back to his feet, grasping your neck and pulling you in for a kiss that left you even more breathless than your orgasm.

“I want you inside me,” you said, voice hoarse from screaming.

“Whatever you wish, my love,” he breathed against your cheek, hands already yanking at his pants until you were grasping him in your palm. Stroking him softly, just to see him struggle just as you had to remain coherent.

“What I wish…” you began, kissing the corner of his mouth gently. “Is for you to stay safe with me.”

The words had to be said and yet they were no less painful than when you’d thought them. You wanted him safe, more than you wanted him with you. Yet to have both - an impossible feat you weren’t sure how to bring to life yet. Not after what you’d seen, what he’d been through. Seeing it happen would surely break you in half until you wouldn’t be able to go on, but you’d done it before and would sadly do it again.

Till death do you part.

Words he’d whispered to you lifetimes ago on a night such as this one. When the moon hung in the sky, full and bright - emitting enough power for you to keep the both of you safe - and yet it still happened. She still took him from you.

The ring was pressed against your sternum inside the bodice of your dress; burning into your skin the longer it remained there and not on your finger, but how could you wear such a thing of beauty. When you were shrouded in nothing but darkness. Life was cruel, but fate was the tragic downfall you both had to endure just to be with one another.

He helped you onto the counter gently, afraid that he’d break you if his grip was too strong - even if he knew how powerful you were. He was always afraid he’d break you, because he’d done it before. You didn’t wait for him to ask if this is what you wanted, because you were always guiding him towards your entrance. Eyes begging with him to connect the both of you once more in an intimate embrace you hadn’t partaken in for years.

“I wish I could be safe with you too,” he whispered, gasping as he pushed into you, feeling the warmth and tightness of your walls hug around his cock. “I wish I could protect you.”

Fighting back the sting of tears, you cupped his face, bringing him closer for a kiss that would no doubt break both of your hearts even further. The tale of the moon and the sun drifted back to your mind, echoing your thoughts back to you. Each night the sun would fall so the moon could rise. Forever apart...never together. A love that was as eternal as the universe itself and through each lifetime they found one another.

“I love you,” you gasped, head tilting back and sharing his breath as he thrusted into you slowly, steadily. Enough to make you dizzy with emotion and yet still ache for more than just this.

You wanted him wholly. Wished that life would allow you one good lifetime together rather than this desperate fucking that would fall away to reveal your hearts that each of you kept so guarded.

“I love you.” He pressed you closer until your chest was against his, legs hitching higher up around his waist in order to let him sink deeper into you with every thrust. “So much. My heart belongs to you,” he said, forehead pressing against yours.

“As does mine.”

The softness began to shift, back to the roughness you both knew so well. But still you welcomed it, dug your face into his neck to keep yourself connected to him in some way. He barely pulled out now, unable to part himself from you and the whimper of his name caressed against the skin of his neck. Some small assurance that this was real, he wasn’t merely trapped in a dream, unable to escape the horrors of his mind.

What a wonderful way to be brought back to life, he thought.

By your love.

“Din,” you breathed, teeth digging into his neck and causing his hips to stutter. On the verge of coming, you refused to fall apart until he was right on the edge with you - ready to follow and spill into your body.

Pressing a kiss to his chest, you clenched around him, keeping him within the confines of your body and shoving him over the cliff. Gasping through it you dug your nails into his shoulders, watching in delight as he shuddered, nearly falling into your arms completely. It wasn’t earth-shattering like many of the others, but it was much more. Far more than even words could describe.

Holding him close you breathed in the scent of him. One you had tried to recreate through the years with different herbs, potions so potent that they wouldn’t leave your senses for days afterwards. But nothing could come close to the way his scent enraptured you - surrounded you like it’s own type of embrace.

“What else do you remember?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder, unwilling to let him go just yet.

“Everything. Our lives together,” he replied, hand brushing against your still clothed back. “The last time I saw you.”

The heaviness returned faster than you expected, but you didn’t believe it would stay away for very long anyways. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, pausing his movements. “I hurt you.”

“Din you couldn’t remember who I was at the time.”

“I understand that, but...you felt familiar. I didn’t want to hurt you. Believe me I fought against whatever vile shit she-”

Cupping his cheek you turned his head, bringing him back from the depths of his mind, before he swam out too deep for you to reach. “I believe you. More than you know. You weren’t yourself and how could I blame you for your actions when that was the case?”

“But-”

“But nothing,” you said, running your thumb along his jaw. “You’re here and that’s all that really matters at this time.”

You watched as he allowed himself the freedom of choice once again; gave into the love you brought forth, because it was a stability he needed in his life. Gathering you in his arms he slowly helped you down to the floor, dragging you on top of him until you were locked tightly in his arms. He had slipped out of you through the movements and you slowly dripped down your thigh, but somehow it remained a feeling of comfort.

The fire had died down with your adrenaline, returning to a slow burning, crackling softly in the background. For a moment you could allow yourself to fall into a peaceful sleep - let go of the worries that plagued you and forget.

You hoped.

“Sweet child.” A voice cooed in your ear, sending your heart into overdrive.

You knew who it was seconds before she spoke; the burning of each rune on your body alerting you of an entity that wished to do harm. One who wasn’t supposed to be able to track you let alone contact you through your dreams. Opening your mouth you tried to say something - call out for Din - fight against her, but your mind was trapped. Almost as if you were trapped in molasses.

“I see my huntsman found you,” she whispered, her breath washing across your cheek.

Fear spiked through your heart, sending your body into a mode of panic and it must have done something to the external world. It was enough to wake him up from where he was beside you, shaking you awake, but he didn’t hold any power of his own. Not enough to break you out of this world she had created specifically for this moment alone. She wanted you to know that you were powerless against her the second you let your guard down.

She could find you anywhere.

“Seren,” you gasped, screaming in pain as the runes nearly seared themselves to your bone to keep you protected.

“Come back to me,” his voice whispered against your temple, dragging you to the surface and back into reality with him.

Your eyes opened, air rushing back to your lungs as light flashed over your eyes. Showing you what you dreaded most in the world, and you shut your eyes tight, wishing for it to leave your sight. Except you could not shut off the powers given to you by your ancestor.

“She’s coming,” you said, breaking free of his hold and getting to your feet. Reaching for the jars of herbs that were scattered around the house you began to concoct yet another spell.

Hiding your magic be damned. She already knew where you were, had found a way to break past barriers that had taken you years to set in place. Starting the fire once more you ignored his inquiring words, forcing yourself to remain practical and focus on the task at hand. She would not take him from you again.

Not after last time.

“What do you mean?” he asked, following close behind you.

“She found me Din,” you replied, grabbing the bones that lay scattered around the table thanks to the cat who wandered in and out from time to time. She brought you gifts.

“Then we have to go.” He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. “If she found us then we leave.”

“And go where?” Pulling away you felt the chill go down the base of your spine again, curling low in your stomach. “There’s no place I can go where she won’t find me.”

“Listen,” he said, cupping your face. “I promised to protect you.”

“Din-”

“I will protect you.” He left no room for an argument in his words, and while you would have normally fought him on that, there was a certainty in things that hadn’t been there before.

This was it for you.

The moment where you choose how far you would go to keep him in your life. He didn’t mention it if he noticed your plan through the eerie stoicism you kept on your face. Why should he? There would be no fighting you on a decision such as this; no way to convince you that this wasn’t worth it.

Only that was the thing. It was always worth it - he was worth everything.

Feeling the rune on your hip flare to life you understood how little time you had left with one another. One step out of the door meant you’d never get the chance to come back inside together, because things were finally clear to you. He died to protect you from her, but there would be no need for protection when you died.

“You’re going to let her kill you,” he said, disbelief crossing his features.

“I won’t let her take you from me again Din. Not like this.”

“So you would rather die than run away?”

Your shoulders dropped, eyes shining with the tears you continued to fight against. “She won’t take you if I’m no longer here to hunt.”

“How do you know?”

“I don’t, but what would be the use of keeping someone’s soul mate when they’re dead?” It made some sense in your head, but at this point you were at a loss for another plan. Running never worked - especially with the amount of times that you had tried it and she was far too powerful to kill.

“If that’s your choice,” he said, grabbing for the sword propped against the table. “Just know I’m not letting that happen.”

The door swung open before you could respond. Neither of you touched it, but you already suspected who was behind this. Who had decided to pay a visit to a home you’d built for yourself for years. Inhaling deeply, you took a hesitant step forward, your bare feet touching the wood beneath you that had been carved with rune after rune.

She couldn’t enter.

Not when Hecate’s symbol was carved into the wood above your door frame, blocking those that dared to do harm against her ancestors.

Staying directly beneath it you watched as a hooded figure stepped out from the shadowed forest entrance, her pale bare feet drawn with black marks. Ones that you recognized, but would never use yourself. It seemed to blacken the very ground she stood on, taking life from your garden of flowers and turning them to ash before your very eyes.

“Greetings sweet child,” she said, voice sounding exactly like how a siren would sound and you wondered if they received that gift from her.

“Seren.” You weren’t a violent person, always choosing to look on the lighter side of things rather than revert to darkness. But with her...you wanted to watch her die at your feet. Fall to the ground and suffer from what she had put you and Din through for far too long.

“You sound so unhappy to see me.” She reached up, hands covered in runes as well - some you hadn’t seen before - and pulled the hood from her face. Revealing the woman who plagued your dreams at night, forcing you to remain awake and watchful lest she decide to pay you another visit.

“I’m not particularly pleased,” you replied, deadening your eyes. She would not see what you felt - not this time. “You’ve arrived at such an awful time.”

“That’s because you took what belongs to me.” She plucked a rose from your garden, piercing her finger as she went and sucking the blood off her skin. “How is our fine hunter?”

You nearly stepped outside away from your protection, but his hand on your wrist kept you there. “He does not belong to you,” you snapped, eyes narrowing at the sight of her slowly sucking the life from the rose in her hand. Turning the red into black.

“That’s not the agreement he made.”

“Fuck you. He was under your spell when he made that agreement. Otherwise he would have never gone with a bitch-” You were knocked to the ground, the breath leaving your lungs instantly.

You heard him call your name, felt him drag you back until you were leaning against his chest and resting between his legs, but couldn’t breathe. She’d taken the air from your lungs, shutting off your voice temporarily. All because you disrespected her. There would be no fighting her today, not when you were still weak from the spell you casted on Din to bring forth his memories.

He stroked your face, calling your name gently to rouse you from your state of weakness. “You’ll be okay,” he whispered, thumb running along your cheek.

“We should have ran,” you said, smiling up at him with a morose look in your eyes. “Too late now I guess.”

“I shouldn’t have come to find you,” he said, helping you back to your feet. “She used me to-”

“I don’t care.” And that was the truth. You had a few moments with him again; certainly not enough to last another lifetime, but enough to remind you why you continued to fight against this woman. Why you kept your vow to him.

“I love you Din,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him gently before pressing a hand to his chest and watching as he fell to the ground before you. Eyes rolling back in his head. “Too much to let you go.”

“What are you doing?” Seren called from outside of the house, her eyes no doubt able to see what was going on.

Turning to face her once more you smiled, raising a bottle of a potion she knew well. One she used to get here in the first place. Bending down you pressed your fingers into the ash from the fire, drawing a symbol on the skin above his ribcage that not even she could track. You would not allow her to take him from you this time, but you would not be able to spend your days with him again. Not for some time.

“Always yours, my love,” you whispered, pressing your hand into the symbol and bringing it to life - watching as it burned lightly into his skin. Solidifying in his soul.

Standing you stared at him one last time, before stepping out into the garden with Seren nearly sending you six feet under with just her expression. She did not like the spell you had cast, but you no longer cared. Not when the man you loved was finally safe - finally free from the both of you. Lifting the potion to your lips you watched her shout in anger, rushing forward in an attempt to knock the bottle from your hands.

Yet it was already too late. You could feel the beat of your heart begin to slow and the numbness in your body spread until you were falling to the ground.

Forever asleep until the universe called upon you again.

Until you could reunite with the other half of your soul.

[biceraswitch]

What Brats Deserve

Pairing: daddy!Steve x brat!reader

Summary: Steve knows just how to punish you when you are acting like a brat.

Warnings: smut, spanking, crying, dom/sub, daddy kink, fingering, oral (female receiving)

Words: 2k

A/N: Honestly just been craving a good spanking lately and this is what happened...

~~~~~~~~~~~

He had been at work all day, busy planning everything for next week's mission and you had been stuck at home missing him. He had promised he would have extra days off this week to make up for the time he was going to be away. However, nothing had run to schedule and now he was needing to go in to work everyday, much to your annoyance. Although you understood why he needed to go to work you weren’t happy about it.

Today had been particularly bad, you had woken up to him already gone. At midday Steve had rang to check on you and let you know he would probably be late home. You didn’t take the news well and you *may* have sworn at him a few times, feeling angry that you had barely seen him all week. You hung up on him in the middle of him apologising and had refused to answer any of his calls or texts for the rest of the day. So now you found yourself standing in your room, dressed only in a pair of your panties and a t-shirt, with a very grumpy Steve sat on the bed across from you.

“We’ve talked about this before babygirl. You can’t just ignore me when you are annoyed or angry, you have to talk to me”

You glared at Steve and refused to talk. He was the one in the wrong here - he was the one who promised to be at home and then went to work.

“If you keep ignoring me then I’ll have to punish you. You know the rules princess”

“No that’s stupid Daddy” you whined before a pout settled on your face.

His eyebrows raised and he tilted his head “Oh so that’s how you want to play it tonight huh? Gonna be a fucking brat?”

“No"

“Get your ass over here right now” he growled patting his knee. You shook your head.

“No”

“The longer you make me wait babygirl the longer your ass will be hurting”

Stubbornly refusing to budge you stared him down, narrowing your eyes.

“No”

He stared back with as much determination as you. Neither side wanted to forfeit, you were at a stalemate.

“If you're not over my knee by the time I count to three that pussy is gonna be getting spanked instead. One…., Two….”

You had been so determined to win tonight but the thought of Steve treating your pussy to one of his spankings was too much. Your legs almost gave out as you crossed the short distance to Steve.

“Thr-”

You cut Steve off as you hurriedly bent over his lap, toes barely touching the floor as you reached your body over Steve's legs.

“That was close, babygirl. Thought I was finally going to get the chance to properly punish that sweet little cunt of yours.” He reached between your legs to cup your pussy. His fingers skillfully found your clit, rubbing small circles that sent waves of pleasure through your core.

You mewled softly “please daddy”.

“Does that feel good huh?”

“Yes daddy, so good” you wiggled your hips, attempting to grind down harder on his hand.

He chuckled softly before pulling your panties down your legs.Sinking two fingers into your core he began slowly massaging your inner walls. You felt yourself growing warm, the burn of your arousal growing greater by the second as Steves fingers worked into your heat.

“So fucking wet,... too bad that you’ve been a brat”

Suddenly you were being lifted further over his lap by the fingers still buried deep in your pussy. Your arms flew out, trying to catch yourself as your ass was lifted higher and your torso slid further off his lap. Steve shifted you so you rested on one thigh, his other leg coming in to lock over yours, trapping you tightly between his muscular thighs. You reached down, pushing off the floor as you tried to lift yourself back up but it was useless. The angle you were at made it impossible to lift your body up and with your legs trapped tightly you could barely move your lower half at all.

“Steeeve, stop!” you squealed as you fought to bring your body back up.

“Uh uh, I don’t wanna hear anything from you unless it’s ‘yes Daddy’ or ‘thank you Daddy’. Do you understand?”

You merely whined in response, still struggling in a futile attempt to escape his grasp.

A hand grasped your hair, pulling your head sharply back “I asked you a question babygirl and I expect an answer. Do you understand?” He punctuated his question by removing his fingers from your pussy and bringing them down sharply over your wet lips.

“Ahh! Yes Daddy!” You cried out at the pain of his quick slap.

“Good girl. Now, let’s see how red I can make your ass”

He let go of your hair and moved his hand to rest on the small of your back, bracing you for the coming blows. You tensed up, waiting for the inevitable and jumped slightly when you felt his other hand start tracing small circles over your ass. Just as you relaxed into the touch he lifted his hand and brought it down harshly. A yelp escaped your lips at the sting and you barely had time to recover before another came.If you thought Steve might have taken it easy on you ,you were sorely mistaken and you realised just how screwed you were. Spank after spank rained down on your ass. Regretting how bratty you had been you tried to apologise.

“I’m sorry Daddy - Ah! - I didn’t mean - Ow! - to be a brat. I’m sorry - ah! - I promise I’ll never -”

An arm reached down and quickly lifted you up so you were sitting on one muscular thigh.

Surprised you just stared at Steve for a few seconds.

“Thank you Daddy” you managed to gasp out.

“Aww, my dumb little baby. You think Daddy would just stop because you said sorry?”

“But... but...”

“Open your mouth”

Brain whirring in confusion you didn’t react.

“Fuck you really are my dumb baby right now. Open. Your. Mouth.” He gripped your face in his hand, fingers digging in your cheeks forcing you to open up. His other hand quickly stuffed your mouth with the panties he had taken off you earlier.

“I don’t want to hear another word babygirl. I’ll decide when you’re sorry”

Head still spinning, you didn’t fight it as Steve flipped you back down over his knee.

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

Laying limp against Steve's leg, your ass was on fire and you were sure you would be feeling it for days. One last spank landed and you let out a small whimper around the sodden panties still held tightly in your mouth. Steve started rubbing gentle circles over the glowing skin.

“Took your spanking so well babygirl. So proud of you. I’m gonna lift you up now ok?”

You let out a soft “Mhmm” before letting Steve maneuver you so your burning ass sat between his thighs, curled close to his chest. Pulling the ruined panties from your mouth he leant in to kiss the last of your tears off your glistening cheeks.

“You feeling ok pretty girl?”

“Yes Daddy” you nodded your head “‘m sorry, so sorry”

“Shh I know baby, your punishment is over now. Daddy isn’t mad at you.I’m sorry that I’ve been so busy at work lately.”

“I know, I just miss you so much sometimes”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you when I’m back. I’ll take a couple of weeks off and we can go somewhere hm?”

“That sounds great Daddy”

Steve held you close, showering your face with soft kisses for a few minutes. Whilst you loved the attention you were getting, the throbbing in your core had your squirming in his lap. The burning in your ass had faded to a warm glow and now your focus was firmly on the wetness between your legs.

“What’s the matter babygirl? Did I go too hard?” his concern was written over his features as his eyes searched yours.

“No Daddy I’m fine. It’s just…”

“Just what princess?”

“Um… I’m all...all tingly Daddy” you whispered

You saw realisation sweep across his face. “Do you want some help from Daddy?” he asked huskily, face dropping close to yours.

“Yes please Daddy.”

“Such good manners baby.”

Your legs fell apart as he reached his hand down. Teasing fingers brushed through your soft patch of hair before sliding along your dripping slit. “Oh you really need some help don’t you babygirl?”

You stared up with pleading eyes “please.”

His fingers quickly zeroed in on your clit, rubbing slow circles around the sensitive bud. His mouth found your neck, alternating between kissing and sucking harshly along your skin. You ground your hips into his hand and bared your neck, seeking more of everything. All too quickly he withdrew his hand. You started to whine but were stopped as he shifted your body, cradling you in his arms as he stood. He moved around the bed, placing you gently on the soft surface, head resting back on the pillows. You winced a little as your tender skin touched the fabric.

“Don’t worry babygirl, I’ll make you forget all about that soon'' he said as he helped you take your shirt off before spreading your legs and positioning himself between them. Kissing you softly he cupped your face with one hand.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too Daddy.”

He kissed you deeply as his hand trailed down, pinching your hardened nipples gently. Pulling away he wrapped his lips around one nipple whilst his hand kept teasing the other. He alternated between your breasts, lavishing your nipples with his tongue, occasionally grazing his teeth over them. You were breathily heavily, face flushed as he continued his assault on you. Steve’s knee was pushed up into your core and you ground down on him desperately, trying to find enough friction. Soft whines bubbled up from you, feeling overwhelmed but needing more at the same time.

Your fingers wove into his hair as you tried to pull him further down your body. You felt him smile against your skin.

“What are you wanting babygirl?”

“Want your mouth on me”

“But you already do princess” He feigned ignorance grinning up at you.

“No not there Daddy”

“Hmmm where do you want my mouth then?” he asked, voice muffled as his face buried back between your breasts.

“My pussy Daddy. Please Daddy, I need you to eat my pussy. I want you to make me cum.”

“I love when you beg babygirl. So desperate for Daddy to eat your sweet little pussy”

You didn’t let go of his hair as he dipped down lower, shifting so his mouth hovered directly over your center. You felt his warm breath wash over you, the anticipation building before he licked a broad stripe up the length of your slit. You gasped and pulled harshly on his hair earning yourself a moan in return. “Please..more” you begged, moving your hips to try and find some friction. Steve’s expert tongue found your clit, circling the sensitive bud of nerves, bringing you waves of pleasure. Warmth rushed over your body and you felt like you were floating. It took only minutes before the coil in your belly felt like it was about to snap.

“Daddy, daddy ‘m close, please”

“Good girl, come as much as you want tonight babygirl, I’ve got you” Steve answered before diving back into your folds, quickly bringing you right back to your precipice. Sensing that you needed just a little more he brought a hand up and sunk two fingers deep inside of you, curling them rhymically before sealing his lips over your clit and sucking. Ecstasy exploded through your body as every muscle tensed and you rode out the heights of pleasure. Coming down from your high you saw Steve grinning up at you.

“Ready for another babygirl?”

[rowanthestrange]

What if we are in a universe where the Timeless Child was saved? Right now. We are in Timeline-B, not A, we’ve already swapped.

Cryptocurrency Brax is a Timeline-B ‘Not-Time-Lord’.

Bel and Vinder are Timeline-B Not-Gallifreyans from Not-Gallifrey: Long-lived, psychic, implied complexity in getting pregnant, and a lovely Academy to be trained in.

Not-Gallifrey is the centre of importance cus Tecteun never took the Timeless Child back to her home planet of Gallifrey - it still developed with her help, but without regeneration.

The Division still rules in both timelines but it’s using both Gallifrey and Not-Gallifrey, with Cryptocurrency Brax and other Not-Time-Lords. As we can assume via Vinder’s flashbacks and Bel’s coat etc.

TARDISes are a myth to Vinder because they’re not Not-Gallifrey tech, they’re still Gallifreyan tech created by Tecteun which is why Swarm and Azure are so angry with her etc. (The Division highest levels presumably still have access to them). Neo-Time Lords still a thing, but without regeneration they’re probably more vulnerable to invasion trying to get that technology, hinders the empire building.

This is why we’ve seen two Gallifreys. The one that we saw the Master nuke all life from, and a Gallifrey full of grass and Cybermen. They’re not incompatible at all because the Gallifrey the Master burned no longer existed in the first place, and the other Gallifrey has Neo-citizens aplenty to convert. Probably explains why we needed the purple portal though.

We know one of the Doctor’s splits was pulled to Tigmi, so Tigmi is her. But that means that Tigmi is from Timeline-B and is/was/will be used to create Timeline-A. But to start Timeline-A means Timeline-B does not exist unless you break Timeline-A. The Timeless Child as the ultimate paradox. They exist because they cannot exist. A manifest loop completely untethered from time.

Gat seemed really high ranking, was recognised as Gallifreyan when scanned by Thirteen, and answers to Gallifrey, with a TARDIS (where we were with Jack), she was the one sent to get the Doctor. Why wouldn’t she regenerate when shot? Cus she can’t.

Maybe Martin!Doctor is who you get if you save Tigmi, save the Timeless Child. Different origin story, slightly different universe structure, but still the same result. We met her parents, ‘the Doctor’ is an inevitability either way. But perhaps they lived very differently to the idyllic life with Tigmi we’d want because they knew, were told what was going on with her, knew the risks of what people would do if they found out who and what she was, and would have to be exiles forever. Ruth talks about her not-good-with-people parents who lived in the lighthouse. Not ‘parent’ like Tecteun, but ‘parents’ plural. Ruth says “Forgotten what it feels like to come back here. Like nothing can touch me.”

(Aside: Ruth believed she moved to Gloucester in mid-December - that more or less lines up with the Final Flux event and is probably important, especially knowing how much Chibnall cared about dates and also knowing that he had to cut two episodes from Flux.)

The presence of old faces doesn’t help us identify anything: Jack is a fixed point, he’s stuck whatever, and for all we know old adventures would still more or less line up. Kate knew the Doctor but doesn’t seem surprised or comment on her being a woman - maybe because that’s not new to her, perhaps M!Doc’s in a line of predominantly female Doctors instead of male, whatever. Could be because the Earth was protected that nothing could alter on it at all anyway. (And Tecteun escaped Timeline-A before it ruptured, safe on her way out the universe, and let’s hope Tecteun-B’s dead in a ditch somewhere)

(Fringe idea: Our Master still exists in the universe like our Doctor does, and is the one who sends Ruth the mysterious text from an unknown sender that lets her free herself - “Follow the light. Break the glass. Happy birthday. X.” - ‘happy birthday’ ala Missy and because of the nature of the story, call back to Clara, texting the Doctor, and a kiss - a bit French. And we have a prophecy etc.)

By no means is this a full working theory. Less needs the edges sanding off and is more like a rough blueprint before we’ve started making anything, just analysing what we’re seeing. I don’t know how it would all work in context - it’s obvious there’s a Save Tigmi split point that could make a paradox loop in Timeline-A but there are still other paradoxical elements. Could mean the theory’s completely wrong, could be I’m missing some key parts, could be we don’t have the tools to crack it and this is as far as we can go without details.

But it’d explain how the Doctor’s memories are a house that doesn’t make sense, cus they can’t, they’re different and incompatible timelines crashed together.