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neon-junkie · 3 years

Text

Five-oh-Thirst

Summary: The 501st boys have finally reached their breaking point; they just HAVE to have you, and Jesse makes it his mission to recruit you into their shenanigans. After a night out at 79's, you're spoilt by a handful of Troopers, and a Captain who's late to the party.

Pairing: Female Jedi Reader x Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, Hardcase, Dogma & Tup

Word count: 12k

Tags: Shameless smut, Gangbang, Drinking, Double penetration, Praise kink, Voyeurism, Military names, Aftercare, Morning after pill.

Notes: this is so fucking slutty and i loved writing every second of it >:) sorry if some of the boys are a little OOC, im still new to writing these hotties. Tumblrs formatting is shite, so i’d suggest reading this on AO3 (under the same username.)

To say that you're 'close' with the 501st is an understatement. Close isn't quite the word you could use to describe the bond you have with this boisterous bunch of clones. You may be their Commander, but you're also a friend, and soon to be a lover. You've had your fair share of drunken nights out with the lot, getting rowdy in 79's, dragging each other's asses home, falling asleep in cuddle piles in their barracks. Yes, you shouldn't be mingling like this with your squad, but it's hard to not get so attached.

Anakin has warned you over and over about both your attachment and feelings, but you've seen the way he talks to them, Rex specifically. Anakin has let his emotions lead him whenever his men are hurt or in danger, and maybe that's why he always gives you a wink during his lectures. He knows what it's like, and he's only attempting to follow the Jedi code, teaching you in the process.

Speaking of Jedi codes, apparently rocking up to the Jedi cruiser bridge with a cup of caf in hand is something to be frowned upon. What? you're tired, and it's not like Anakin has asked his men to get him a cup of caf before. Obi-wan has done this exact same thing also! So, because you're a Padawan, you're not allowed to do it? Sheesh. The hypocrisy.

Despite Anakins disproving glare, the briefing continues flawlessly, as does the mission. Luck must have been on your side, or the force, depending on what you believe in. The Separatists crawled away with their tails between their legs, leaving the planet Naboo alone once more.

A course is set for Coruscant, and the Jedi cruiser launches into hyperspace, taking roughly seven hours to return home. That time is yours to do as you please, and you decide that a nap is in order.

Walking to your quarters takes a good ten minutes, seeing as how large this cruiser is. You travel down an array of corridors, having Troopers stop and salute you as you pass. It's a touching gesture, but sometimes you hate being the centre of attention. You understand that, to the clones, it's a sign of respect, one that they hold dearest in their hearts; you tried to get them to stop once, and only insulted them in the process, so you swiftly gave up and let them continue.

One Trooper in particular calls out your name from behind, and you rotate to see ARC Trooper Jesse approaching, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his other hand salutes you as he approaches. "Commander, do you have a minute?"

"For you, Jesse? Always," you say with a smile.

That smile is mirrored right back at you, and Jesse gestures for you to step down a quiet corridor to talk in private. He doesn't speak up at first, scratching the back of his neck nervously, but you allow him to take his time. Whatever's on the tip of his tongue must be really important.

"Commander, this is a... strange request to make," Jesse begins, and looks for your approval before continuing.

"Go on."

"Well, the boys and I were talking... and uh, you know how we like to de-stress by going to 79's?" Jesse mutters, keeping his voice quiet.

"Yes?" you question, nodding at the same time.

"And by de-stress, we like to... you know, pick up women there," Jesse shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he speaks.

Something in your gut informs you that you know what's coming next, and it explains why Jesse is stalling his request so much. You continue nodding as he speaks, squinting your eyes ever so slightly, suspicious of where this is heading.

"We've been uh, wanting to invite... you along, but we're not sure if that follows your erm, codes?" Jesse pulls the most panicked expression as he finally spits the words out. You think you know what he's asking, but you'll need to dig a little deeper, just to be certain.

"Going to 79's in the first place is against my Code... I think?" you reply, uncertain on what the Jedi code says about nightclubs and getting drunk with clones. "I thought you would know by now that I bend the rules in my favour, without others knowing, of course."

"Oh, that's a relief," Jesse sighs, and removes his hand from his neck. "I mean, you shouldn't, but we all break some rules here and there, don't we?"

"Yeah," you say with a shrug. "What exactly are you asking from me, Jesse? Be clear with your words, Trooper," you order in a teasing manner, noticing how the tip of Jesse's ears turn pink at your words.

"How about... the next time we all go out for drinks, we... take you back instead of some random woman?"

Oh.

There's a heated knot in your stomach, twisting and turning at the thought of sleeping not only with Jesse, but a handful of men. They're all attractive in their own unique ways, and you applaud them for how they create their individuality, through hairstyles, facial hair, and tattoo's. Not only does it make them easier to identity, but it really helps express their personality, and how they may act on the battlefield.

And the thought of having a bunch of these handsome men taking care of you? Who would say no to that?

"Who do you mean by 'we'?" you question out of curiosity.

"Uh, well, it depends on who comes out with us. I mean, all the boys have spoken about it, and all of them are down," Jesse shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck once more.

They've spoken about this? All of them? You must be quite the catch.

"Why? Is there someone you want to avoid?" Jesse then questions, and you instantly shake your head in response.

"No, I'm just curious. I... didn't know you all felt that way towards me," you sheepishly reply, and Jesse flashes you a concerned expression.

"You're kidding me, right? Have you noticed the way we all speak to you? The way we are around you? Even General Skywalker has told us multiple times to cool it," Jesse nervously laughs, clutching his helmet tighter.

You laugh with him, your mind replaying many incidents where the boys have let it slip. Kix has made multiple inappropriate jokes as he's been patching you up. Hardcase is always offering his lap as a seat whenever you're at 79's, and that's an offer that you may need to finally take up. Dogma will attempt to follow the code, but you've caught him staring at your ass more than once. Fives is Fives, and that's all that needs to be said. And Tup is too shy to make any bold moves, but you can tell he has a soft spot for you, as his face turns bright red whenever you're within ten feet of him.

As for Rex and Jesse, they flirt when it's appropriate, meaning when they're not in earshot of General Skywalker.

"Now that you mention it..." your words trailing off, thinking about all those moments.

"See," Jesse points. "So, are you in?" he questions, scrunching his face up in fear of rejection.

"As long as you boys can share," you instruct, knowing what they're like. "I'm in."

Jesse fist pumps the air as he lets out a "yesss!" but swiftly attempts to cool it, trying to not let his excitement burst. "I'll let the men know. We were planning on heading out tonight?" Jesse offers.

"I'll be there," you smile. "Make sure you and your men look good for me, Trooper," you playfully order.

"Of course, Commander," Jesse nods, and allows you to end the conversation there. If you're going out later, then you definitely need that nap right now. Jesse lands a cheeky slap on your bum as you turn to walk off, and you flash him a smile over your shoulder, heading down the corridor to your quarters.

----------

Could this be considered a date? or just an arranged hookup with a bunch of men? Either way, you're using the night as an excuse to dress up, not that you need an excuse to begin with.

That nap does wonders for you, although it could be considered more of a sleep, since as you woke up, you were arriving back on Coruscant. It's mid-afternoon, giving you plenty of time to get ready for tonight. Upon arrival, you take a trip downtown to purchase something to wear for tonight, and you have just the right outfit in mind.

The dress is ever-so-slightly out of your price range, but you know it'll be worth it. The 501st take pride in their colour, blue, and you know their jaws will drop when they see you in their colour. The dress fits the way you like it, bold and flashy, enough to turn more than your legion's heads. You pair the dress with some white heels and a bag, Trooper colours all around; you're really milking it, but Maker, don't you look good!

Hours later and you're ready for tonight, checking yourself out in your apartment mirror. You're fortunate to have your own place outside of the Jedi temple; it's tiny and run down, but enough to get you away whenever you need it. Sadly, it's far too small to fit a handful of clones in, so the barracks will have to do.

One taxi later, and you're outside 79's, queueing up to enter the busy club. Happy hour has just begun as you enter, and you remove the comlink from your bag, pressing a button to inform your men that you've arrived.

Nervously, you gaze around the club, ignoring the random sets of eyes on you. You're only after one group of men, and thankfully, one of them approaches you.

"Commander?" Kix calls out. As you turn to look at him, his face lights up, gesturing to the outfit you're wearing. "Oh, Commander!" Kix sighs, gawking over the sight of you in his legions colours.

"Not too much?" you question, gesturing to the outfit.

"No, it's just right," Kix sighs yet again. "And I like the white heels and bag, nice touch!"

Of course Kix has noticed those minor details.

"Where are the others?" you question, and Kix offers you his arm in response. You take it, following Kix through the club, eventually coming across a cosy booth, full to the brim with your boys.

Kix's reaction to your outfit was sweet and wholesome, something you'd expect from him. Fives on the other hand is hollering like a dog as you approach, checking you out with a whistle, doing everything he can to hype you up. "Commander," he purrs, and wraps an arm around your waist. "Here for me?" he jokingly questions, making you laugh at his forwardness.

"She came here for all of us!" Dogma butts in, swatting at Fives's hand around your waist.

"Oh, so you are joining in, Dogma? I didn't think you were one to break the rules," Fives bites back, and gestures for you to take a seat as he talks.

"This is different, Fives," Dogma mutters. You zone out to their bickering as you shuffle around the booth, finding a seat between Hardcase and Tup.

Tup, like the sweetheart he is, quietly tells you "you look beautiful," with flushed cheeks. Only for Hardcase to add "yeah, you look hot!"

It's hard to believe that these men are all clones. Their reactions are so vast, but they all express the same thing - you look good, and no doubt, they're going to be all over you tonight. They look just as good as you do, maybe even better; they've dressed up for tonight, sporting fine button-up shirts, all of them looking clean and tidy, for once, not covered in dirt from the battlefield.

Jesse offers to buy your first round, and insists that you stay at the booth with the others. He probably fears that another batch of clones will latch onto you the second you stand up. Are the men in here aware that you're a Jedi? Or do they assume you're some poor, unfortunate soul, who's been sucked into spending the night with this bunch? You're hoping for the second assumption, as the last thing you want is some tattle-tale clone recognizing you and ratting you out to the Jedi order.

Jesse returns with your drink and a round of shots, and so, the night begins. The shot is surprisingly nice, as is your drink, but the next set of shots? Eh, not so much. It seems that the more you drink, the worst the shots taste, and you have to turn down the fourth one. You're not going to be standing if you continue chugging drinks at this rate; how your men can drink like this is beyond you.

Dogma and Tup have relaxed in their own way, joining in the conversation every so often, although Dogma is still being teased for 'breaking so many rules.' Hardcase and Fives are as loud as each other, and are currently attempting to impress you through a series of arm wrestling matches. Jesse seems content, on a nice, tipsy level, and has had his eyes on you all night. Kix is simply vibing, not visibly drunk, but bubblier than usual.

You continue peering around, questioning who's missing, and then it suddenly dawns on you.

"Wait a minute! Where's Rex?" you yelp, noticing the lack of a certain blonde clone.

"You've got all of us here, and the only man on your mind is the Captain?" Fives tuts, breaking his concentration from the arm wrestling match. Hardcase takes up the opportunity to take victory, slamming Fives's hand down onto the table.

"Yet again, I am victorious!" Hardcase states, and Fives sputters at his remark.

"That's not fair! Our Commander was asking us a question," Fives argues, and the pair begin bickering between themselves.

You decide to intervene, turning to Hardcase and asking "so, what would you like as your prize?"

Your question is met with a sea of "oooh!"'s and "pick something good, Hardcase!" His face alone is priceless, his emotions switching between shocked, flustered, and cheeky. Hardcase then trails into thought, and after barely any thinking time, he settles on his prize. "For you to finally take up my offer and sit on my lap, sweetheart," he replies, patting his thighs as he talks.

A smirk escapes your lips as you stand, shuffling over to sit on the tattooed clones lap. Hands find their way to your waist, and you're almost certain that Hardcase is purring as he cuddles up to you.

"How is she?" Kix questions, as if you're not sitting in earshot of his question.

"Comfiest ass in the galaxy," Hardcase hums, pulling you higher onto his lap as he speaks. He settles his chin on your shoulder, fine stubble pressed against your skin, and from the expressions of those around you, you can tell that they're all jealous. They'll have their time with you eventually, whether it's here, or at the barracks later. The night is still young.

"My turn," Dogma announces out of nowhere, shuffling out of the booth. None of you have any idea what he's on about, until he turns to you and asks "what are you drinking, Commander?"

You tell him your order, followed up with "and stop calling me Commander! We're not at work, you don't need to call me that."

Dogma apologizes with a soft laugh before making his way over to the bar, followed by Jesse and Kix.

"Is it bad that I kinda like calling you it?" Fives questions, and you know exactly what he's implying.

"The only places you should be calling me Commander is on the battlefield, and in the bedroom," you purr, and you're met with a fawning, lustful expression from Fives, who is more than satisfied at your answer.

"Yes, Ma'am," he purrs back, and you take a mental note for later.

"You know, none of you answered my question," you begin, and the rest of the clones look at you in confusion. "Where is Rex?"

"He said he's busy with a meeting, and that he'll meet us at the barracks later," Fives explains, softly shrugging as he speaks. In Fives' eyes, that means one there's one less clone for you to give your attention to, meaning more for him.

"That's a shame," you sigh. The thought of Rex being here right now is a curious topic on your mind; would he attempt to maintain his high-ranking status, remaining professional despite knowing what's going to happen later? Or would he throw all of that out of the window, taking the first opportunity to straddle you onto his hips and remind his men who's in charge?

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you whilst the Captain's gone," Hardcase smugly comments, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he eyes you up.

Hardcase stays true to his word, as do the rest of your men. Dogma, Jesse, and Kix return shortly after with the next round of drinks, and lo-and-behold, more shots. You have entered the stage of tipsy, sitting on the drunken fence by the time you finish your drink. Hardcase offers to buy the next round, but you brush him off, insisting that it's your turn. "Since you're all taking care of me, the least I can do is return the favour," you explain, and a few of the men chuckle at your reasoning.

Tup, the sweetheart that he is, helps you up and over to the bar. You're able to walk, even in these heels, but you know that Tup's presence is actually a way of telling others clones that you're already taken for. To your surprise, his hand settles around your waist as you prop yourself up against the bar top, waiting for somebody to come and serve you.

"How's your night going?" Tup questions. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, are you?" you reply with a nod, curling up into Tup's side.

"Mhm," Tup nods in agreement. "I just need a few more drinks down me," he adds, and you understand how he feels. If you weren't the centre of attention, then you'd be just as quiet as Tup is, shying away nervously in the cornerless booth.

"Let me get one for you," you offer, and Tup takes you up on it.

"Thank you, Comma- I mean, uh, love." Tup's expression turns sour, blushing at his fumbled reply. You brush the nerves off him by placing a kiss on his cheek, and watch in amazement as his face begins turning a different shade of red.

Tup mutters something to you, and you almost miss his words over the volume of the music. "You missed," he boldly states. Tup's definitely stolen that line from Fives, or has been taught it - either way, it's something Fives would say, and you know how close those two are.

"Oh?" you cheekily sigh. You're about to follow it up, until the bartender arrives, pulling your attention away from the clone.

Once your order is placed, you turn back to Tup, wanting to finish where you left off. He looks at you, then looks away, pulling an embarrassed face. Your fingertips are placed below Tup's chin, gently turning his head to face you, and before Tup can say anything, you lean in to kiss him.

Tup freezes up, before melting into the kiss, moving his head to fit against yours. A hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you there, as if to reassure himself that yes, this really is happening. Tup's kisses match his personality, sweet and gentle, but the tongue that slides across your lower lip suggests there's more to him than meets the eye.

You can overhear the sounds of cheering in the background, and you just know that it's coming from your men. You break away, not to be rude, but because you don't want the poor bartender to be stood there awkwardly as you're busy snogging a clone. Thankfully, they arrive moments later, and you two soon return to the booth with drinks and shots in hand.

Fives applauds his vod as Tup sheepishly sits down, and you go to take a seat beside him, until Jesse pulls you onto his lap. "You've had enough fun with him, come and give us some attention!" he playfully nips, and follows his statement up with a kiss on your neck.

"There's plenty of me to go around," you bite back, wiggling your hips slightly, grinding your ass on Jesse's lap. He sighs heavily at your move, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you there.

You turn your attention to the drinks that you just brought, downing yet another shot, and washing it down with your beverage.

Minutes later, and you're really starting to feel the liquor running through your veins, as well as the undying urge to dance. Jesse is willing, and Hardcase lets you two know that he'll meet you over there, once he's gone and used the refresher. The rest of the clones stay seated, to your surprise, but then again, they don't seem like the type to dance. Well, Fives possibly, but he's barely able to stand, let alone dance, and Kix is nursing him back to soberness with many glasses of water.

Jesse follows you over to the dance floor, your hand in his, and it's busier than you expected. The dance floor is mostly full of clones and their squadrons, all celebrating various victories and whatnot, with a few women lingering about. You understand by now that women only come to this bar to pick up the clones, and can you blame them? Bless the Kaminoans for picking out Jango Fett to be their donor, as his genetics are excelling in all departments.

"My turn with you already?" Jesse questions as he begins dancing with you, swaying in time with the music.

"We've only been here for a few hours. I thought you'd be more patient?" you tease, and Jesse gives you a look.

"I'm patient when I want to be, sweetheart," Jesse shrugs. "But for you? I've been waiting a long time for this," he explains as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.

The tattooed clone smiles down at you, and the glisten in his eyes informs you that his patience truly is running thin. But how long will it be before it runs out? Or how much can you rile him up before he breaks?

"I'm sure you can wait a little longer," you flirt back, trailing your hand along his shirt, fingertips gliding over each of his buttons. You meet his collar and hook a finger over the fabric, gently pulling his head down to your level.

Jesse smirks as he replies "I don't think I can," before pressing his lips to yours. You can tell that Jesse's patience is running thin from the way he kisses you, hungry and lustful, playfully nipping at your lower lip. Your hands wrap around his neck, and you have to remind yourself that you left your bag with the others - that's why your hands are empty.

The hands on your waist trail down to your ass, and Jesse boldly grabs more than a handful, pulling your body tightly against his as he kneads your ass. You break the kiss with a yelp, and remind yourself that you're still in public, thankfully with no eyes set on you. "Jesse!" you playfully swat him, and he chuckles against your skin as his lips trail over your neck.

"You started without me!" A disappointed voice calls out, and warmth appears against your back.

Hardcase has returned from the refresher, pouting because the party has apparently started without him. Jesse moves his hands back to your waist, almost as if he's giving permission for Hardcase to press his crotch against your ass, sandwiching you between the two, tattooed clones. Your cheeks quickly turn red, and you must look more flustered than you feel, as the face that Hardcase and Jesse send each other informs you that they have something planned.

"So," Hardcase begins, his eyes flicking down to yours. "When are we taking you back?"

"Soon?" you nervously reply, questioning your own motives. It's hard to concentrate with an uneven sea turning in your stomach, but the liquor is thankfully helping - you'd be a lot more flustered if you were sober right now.

"Soon?" Jesse repeats, raising a brow at your reply. "Why not now, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah," Hardcase nods, and then dips his head down to kiss along your neck. His kisses trail up to your ear, nipping at that sensitive spot behind it before stating "you look like you need us to fill you up."

A bold, yet true statement, but you're unsure if you want to leave just yet. Do you want to continue your teasing here? Or click your fingers and order your men to take you home and fuck you?

"She's thinkin' about it," Hardcase states, directing his words to Jesse.

"We know what you're thinking, babe, and we think that you've teased us enough already," Jesse says to you, and kneads his hands on your waist, picking and pulling at the fabric of your dress. Bold of him to assume what you're thinking - you're the Jedi here, not him. Either way, his thoughts are true. You have teased them enough, but there's no harm in drawing it out just a little longer, is there?

Jesse steals a kiss from you again, and you can feel him smiling as you let out a soft moan. Hardcase continues kissing up your neck, rutting his semi-hard cock against your ass; his lips wander down below your neckline, and he bites and sucks at your skin, leaving a purple blotch behind. It's in just the right place, an area where your Jedi robes will cover it up, but if you want to tease him on the battlefield, all you need to do is pull back at the thin layer of clothing, revealing his mark.

Just as Hardcase is about to kiss your neck again, a voice calls out "get a room!"

Oh yeah, you're doing all this on the dance floor of 79's. Whoops. Jesse pulls away and chuckles at the strangers remark. "See? Even he thinks we should get going," he states, and you finally agree to make a move.

Jesse leads you off the dance floor, and Hardcase keeps his hand comfortably around your waist. You wander back over to the booth, picking your drink up off the table and finishing it off. "It's time, boys!" Hardcase states, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh?" Fives looks over to you, flashing you a cheeky grin. It seems the many glasses of water on the table have finally brought him back to a stable level; Kudos to Kix for dealing with him.

Tup passes you your bag as he shuffles off the sofas, and you thank him by pulling him down for a quick kiss. You break away with a soft laugh as you hear Fives complain "where's mine, huh?"

"You can get it when we're in the taxi," you explain.

Fives swats Hardcase's arm from around your waist, replacing it with his own, and mouths the words "my turn," to Hardcase, who simply laughs at his eagerness. You and Fives take the lead, exiting the club with your squad following behind.

--------

The ride back to the barracks is... eventful, as is entering the barracks itself. Jesse and Kix walk ahead, pretending to be drunker than they actually are so they can distract the guards with their very existence. The rest of you sneak by, sheltered by a wall of horny clones, and you're ushered into their dorm.

The second you step foot into the room, Fives is all over you. With his hands on your hips, he leads you over to the wall, pushing you up against it and locking his lips with yours. Fives's hand trails up to grab your bag, pulling it from your grasp, and chucking it onto a nearby bed, leaving your hands free to wrap around his neck. He's impatient and needy, hungrily kissing you, his hands struggling to find a single place to rest; they slide over your waist, down your back, and grab at your ass, before trailing up and repeating the process all over again.

"Kriff, calm down. She's not going anywhere," one of his vods comments. Kix possibly?

Fives ignores the comment and continues turning your legs into jelly, making up for all his apparent 'lost time.' When he does finally pull away, he's grinning. His pupils are blown, full of lust, eyeing you up like a piece of meat, until somebody swats him away.

"I'm the one who proposed this to her, so I get first dibs," Jesse intervenes. There's something thrilling about the way they're speaking about you, as if you're not there, as if you're their property. In some ways, you are theirs - you have always been theirs - but only tonight have things finally taken a step forward.

Somebody has dimmed the lights, enough to set the mood, but still light enough that you can see what's happening, and so can everyone else. Everybody's watching as Jesse leads you over to what you assume is his bunk, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees fall onto either side of his hips, spreading your legs, your dress hiking up your thighs.

Jesse places his hands on your waist, holding you as his lips take over from where Fives left off. As he kisses you, he pulls down on your waist, grinding you over his semi-hard cock, reminding you of what's to come. You feel the hem of your dress slip up slightly over your ass, and one of the clones sighs at the small teaser.

Jesse knows what his vods are after, so his hands trail up your back, finding the zip. He slowly unzips your dress, taking his time to reveal what lies beneath, and breaks the kiss so he can pull your dress over your head, discarding it on the bunk next to him.

Needless to say, the air is filled with an array of praise, mutters and moans at the sight of you. You're straddling the ARC Trooper in your underwear and heels, now being freed of your bra. Jesse groans as your tits fall free, and moves his lips down your body, along your neck, over your collarbone, until he latches onto a nipple.

You feel something tug at your foot, and peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase removing your heels; he's polite (and sober) enough to place them down neatly, rather than tossing them to the floor, or worse, throwing them at his vods. Hardcase then stands up, peering over you, and prevents your lips from feeling lonely. He keeps your mouth occupied, whilst Jesse flicks between both of your tits, and both of them find their way to your panties.

"Need to get these off you," Hardcase mutters against your lips. Hardcase hooks his fingers around one strap, Jesse has the other, and the pair slowly slide them off you, moving with your body as you shuffle from Jesse's lap to remove them. You're left naked in a room full of your men, the men that have served under you for a few years now, but it seems that Jesse is the one taking the lead tonight.

"C'mere," Jesse mutters as he manhandles you off his lap. He shimmies around and lays down, his head at the foot of the bed, feet resting against his headboard. Jesse pats his shoulders before making grabby motions with his hands, signalling for you to climb aboard.

With one knee on either side of Jesse's face, you straddle him. Despite the alcohol still pumping through your system, you're still nervous, exposing yourself fully to your men. They're all reacting positively, a few of them palming themselves through their smart pants. Your nervousness doesn't stay for long, being brushed away as Jesse pulls your cunt down onto his face.

He licks a firm stripe over your pussy, followed by a few more curious ones, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. You yelp, instinctively grinding down on Jesse's face, and he seems to like it from the hum he lets out. "Kriff," you overhear one of the clones mutter, and you realize it's Fives when he pipes up with "go on, sweetheart. Fuck his face!"

Jesse nods against your cunt, and the squad seems eager for a show, so, why not?

Firm hands hold onto your thighs, steadying you as you begin rocking back and forth over Jesse's tongue. He's flattened it out nicely, and at this angle, you're able to brush your clit over the wet muscle, grinding oh-so-perfectly. The room is filled with soft words of encouragement, "that's it, doll," and "keep going for us!"

You feel bad that Jesse isn't receiving anything in return, so whilst sitting on his face, you begin unfastening his pants, eventually freeing his cock.

Oh, thank the Maker for those yummy Jango Fett genes.

Jesse is thick, leaking with precum, slightly red at the tip. If he's thick, then that means the rest of them are thick... you're in store for quite a treat.

With one hand barely wrapped around Jesse's cock, you begin pumping his already hard length, earning a whimper from the man beneath you. Your hips have slowed in pace, and Jesse urges you to speed up by grabbing your hips and moving them for you. He takes over, fucking you onto his face for a few moments before steadying your hips again, and wrapping his lips around your clit instead.

You yelp, pumping Jesse's cock faster, and he lets out a similar pleasant sound. Another hand appears on your body, and you peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase grabbing your ass, kneading at your cheeks, playing with them. "Got room for one more?" he questions, eyeing you up.

"Uh-huh," you say with a nod.

Hardcase flashes you a cheeky grin before moving his head down to kiss over your cheeks, lightly biting at each mound, moving from one cheek to the other. Every time it feels like he's getting close to your entrance, he moves across to the other cheek, teasing you with a smile on his lips. You're half tempted to push back onto his face, but he beats you to it by running his tongue over your rim, circling your entrance curiously.

Hardcase doesn't hold back, attacking your entrance with his tongue, his hands kneading at each cheek. Jesse continues flicking his tongue against your clit, and a hand is removed from your thigh; fingertips brush over your pussy, slicking themselves up, before a finger slides into you, not stopping until he reaches his knuckle.

Jesse slowly begins working you open, not that you need it much, considering your heavy arousal. Hardcase notices and takes the hint, wetting his finger in his mouth before pressing the pad against your entrance. He circles your ass a few times, relaxing the muscle, before slowly and gently pushing in. Unlike Jesse, Hardcase takes his time, working with your body to slowly open your ass up.

Your hand continues sloppily pumping Jesse's length, just enough to keep him satisfied; you want to do more, but your thoughts and feelings are already occupied. Just when you think you can't take any more, another clone comes into your line of sight, and asks you those exact words as he knees down in front of you.

"Can you take any more?" Kix questions, eyeing you up, reading your body language.

"Uh-huh," you nod once more, and Kix seems content with your approval.

He plants a light kiss on your lips before standing, and works on unfastening his pants, revealing yet another thick cock for your pleasure. You know exactly what Kix is after, so you open your mouth, awaiting him; he lets out a groan at the sight, and slips his cock past your lips, the underside brushing over your tongue.

Both of your hands are occupied, with one propping your weight up, and the other pumping Jesse; so, you make do with your mouth, sucking him to the best of your ability, and despite being slightly sloppy, Kix seems more than satisfied. He's an understanding man who can clearly see how busy you are.

And oh kriff, you sure are busy.

An orgasm is sitting on the fence, waiting for that final push. Jesse slips another finger into you, curling them and searching for that sweet spot. He knows he's found it when he overhears a muffled moan, and your moan seems to echo, as one of the clones groans at the sight of you. Hardcase removes his finger from your ass, slipping his tongue in and tongue-fucking your small gape, slicking you up so he can begin pushing two fingers in. Like before, he goes slow, understanding the stretch and burn that you're feeling right now.

Hardcase, within time, reaches his knuckles, and gently works his fingers in and out of you. That sensation, added with Jesse's fingers in you, and lips around your clit, is more than enough to have you cumming. You have to slip off Kix's cock to let out a shaky moan, thighs and body trembling as your orgasm takes you. Your forehead presses against Kix's thigh, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open, and Kix soothes you by running his fingers through your hair, keeping it off your face.

You overhear Tup gasp, Dogma whine, and Fives cheer you on. "That's it, sweetheart," one of them encourages, but your mind is so hazy that you're not sure who it was. Either way, the words of encouragement are appreciated, as well as the soothing touches that Kix and Jesse are leaving over your body.

You soon come back around, still trembling from the intensity. Your eyes meet Kix's, who places a kiss on your forehead before settling down on the bunk beside you, muttering something about you having your hands full.

Curiously, you peer over your shoulder, and only then do you realize that Hardcase now has three fingers inside your ass. You're ready, and Hardcase flashes you a look that confirms it. "Wanna see what else we can do?" Hardcase questions, and you swiftly nod, accepting their advances.

Hardcase slowly slips his fingers from your ass, and works on removing his clothes. A kiss is planted on your inner thigh before Jesse gives you the signal to roll off, and you do so, letting the clone crawl out from beneath you. His face is soaked - no, drenched - and your juices have dribbled down over his chin, darkening the collar of his shirt.

"How do I look?" Jesse chuckles, before wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve. Taking Hardcase's idea, he too undresses, leaving you sat on your knees on his bunk.

Hardcase frees himself from his clothes first, and takes a seat beside you. He's about to get into position, until Fives calls out his protest. "You just had a go with her!" he whines.

"We'll be quick," Hardcase winks. He gets comfortable on the bunk, lying on his back, head pressed against the pillow. Hardcase makes a grabbing motion at you whilst mumbling "I want your ass," and with a laugh, you begin getting into position.

At first, you feel awkward and exposed, settling so your back is pressed to Hardcase's tattooed chest. He takes the lead, swinging your legs on either side of his, spreading you wide, and signalling for you to hold your hips up. Hardcase wraps his hand around the base of his cock and begins searching for your entrance, and with your help, he finds your ass.

"Go at your own pace, babe," Hardcase comments, and allows you to take your time sliding down onto his cock. Despite being prepped, Hardcase is still a stretch, slowly working your ass open. A mixture of groans fill the room as you slowly slide onto him, soon reaching his base, a gasp escaping your lips. "Beautiful," Hardcase comments, and reaches around to flick his fingers over your clit, attempting to help you relax.

"You ready for me?" Jesse questions, and all you can do is nod as nothing escapes your lips. Jesse shuffles up the bed, settling between your thighs. He slowly enters you, making a comment under his breath about how soaked your pussy is.

Jesse slides in with ease, holding his cock deep inside you, bottoming out. He awaits your signal before making a move, as does Hardcase, and when you give it, both the clones start slowly.

Your head rolls back to rest on Hardcase's shoulder, and the tattooed clone places a kiss on your temple before turning his focus to bucking up into your ass. Jesse's speed is slightly faster, considering he's in an easier position, and fucking a looser hole. Either way, you're full to the brim, moaning and groaning for them as Hardcase continues flicking his fingers over your clit.

"Kriff, doesn't she look good?" you overhear Kix comment.

Dogma follows up with, "if only you could see yourself, Commander."

Commander, Kriff. That status somehow slipped your mind - you're their Commander, their superior, and your men are currently watching you be fucked, whilst queueing up to take their turn with you. Let's hope your Jedi training has paid off, as you're going to need an extra stern poker-face the next time you're in their presence, or worse, in the presence of your Master.

Jesse, from the sounds that he's making, doesn't seem like he's going to last long. In his defense, you have been pumping his cock this entire time, despite your handiwork being somewhat sloppy. Hardcase's hand on your clit brushes over the perfect spot, causing you to clench in response, and that is more than enough to bring Jesse to orgasm.

"Where?" he manages to blurt out.

"Inside," you order, and every single clone in the room groans at your reply.

Jesse is about to ask if you're certain, but his body gives up before he can speak. Jesse slides his cock as deep as he can, and fills you up, panting and groaning as he releases. He's a debauched, a sweaty mess, possibly still drunk from earlier. Once he's somewhat stable, he slips his cock from you, slowly shuffling off the bed and collapsing on a nearby bunk.

Hardcase kisses your neck, as if to remind you that he's still there, or warning you, since he moves his hands to hold beneath your knees, pulling your knees up against your shoulders, and begins fucking up into your ass.

Your legs are spread, displayed for the other clones to watch as Hardcase ensures that you won't be able to walk for weeks. He's a grunting, sputtering mess beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck as he chases his release.

A few more thrusts and Hardcase is finishing in your ass, holding your body tight against his as he leaves his mark. You're almost certain you heard a few whimpers from him, meaning his orgasm must have been intense. Eventually, a sweaty Hardcase begins slipping himself from you, being gentle as he rolls you off his chest.

Hardcase has barely removed himself off the bunk before another clone calls out "I'm next," and you look in the direction of the voice to see Dogma slipping his clothes off.

"Dogma? You?" Tup questions.

"Yeah, me!" he states, pointing a finger to himself.

"I didn't think you would," Tup shrugs, and in Tup's defence, you agree with him.

"I thought you'd be the type to tell on us," an exhausted Jesse comments, still laying back on a nearby bunk, spread out and panting heavily.

"Even if he did, I don't think anybody would believe him," Fives adds with a laugh.

"Stop being so mean to him, Troopers. Dogma is just as welcome as everybody else," you defend, and the clone thanks you with a smile.

"As welcome as everybody else?" Fives repeats your word. "Kriff, Commander, I didn't realize you were inviting the entire Legion!" he jokes, and you roll your eyes at Fives's comment, twisting your words cheekily.

You ignore Fives's playful remark, turning your attention to Dogma instead, who's just about finished removing his shirt. "How do you want me, handsome?" you question.

Dogma's eyes light up at your little nickname, and he orders you to "get on your front, hands and knees, and face the boys."

Orders are orders, and you follow them without question. Dogma shuffles in behind you, kneading your ass for a few moments before wrapping his hand around his cock. You're already slick enough, with your own release smeared around your thighs, and a release in both holes, so Dogma doesn't bother using his own spit to slick up his cock. Instead, he glides his cock over your pussy, ensuring the tip of his cock flicks over your clit with every thrust, and once he's satisfied, he begins pushing into your ass.

You let out an "oh," as Dogma slides in, letting out a grunt as he bottoms out. With his hands on your hips, and the signal from you to continue, Dogma begins fucking your ass, gawking over the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from you. "That's it," he mutters under his breath. "Kriff, you look so good for me."

"For us," Kix intervenes, and Dogma shoots him a grumpy glare.

Dogma is clearly trying to prove his vods wrong, showing them that he wants this, that he won't rat everybody out for breaking so many rules. His thrusts are heavy, the sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis fills up the room, pushing moans from your lips with every thrust. You can feel Hardcase's release slowly being pushed from your ass, settling around your rim, soon to be replaced with Dogmas.

You overhear someone shuffling about, and Kix soon appears in your line of sight. "I'm back," he says with a smile. "Care to continue where we left off?" Kix questions, and lets out a pleasant sigh when you nod in agreement.

This time, you have your hand free, and you wrap it around Kix's cock as the tip slips into your mouth. Dogma's not letting up his thrusts, pushing your head forwards with every roll of his hips, causing you to lightly gag on Kix's length. Kix seems to enjoy it, as do the viewers, and the sensation is alright for you; so, you continue, eventually letting Kix begin thrusting and fucking your mouth, his pace matching Dogmas.

Kix notices the lack of attention on your pussy, and leans forward, hand reaching out to dip beneath your body and help get you off, but Dogma swats his hand away. At first, you're insulted, as is Kix, until Dogma speaks up and explains his actions. "Let's see how long she can last without being touched," he cheekily states, and Kix flashes him a similar smile before looking down at you.

"Sorry, Commander. Orders are orders," Kix shrugs, and returns to fucking your mouth.

You let out a whine, as does Tup, who seems sympathetic at the lack of attention in your key areas. Fives, on the other hand, is hollering, "she won't last long. She'll be begging for it soon!"

Ugh, he's right. Despite already having an orgasm, you're chasing another, eager for that certain-something to help get you off. The more Dogma and Kix fuck you, the more your cunt burns, and when you try to remove your hand from Kix's cock, he wraps his hand around your wrist to prevent you from touching yourself, clicking his tongue with a disapproving "ah-ah!"

"Soon, sweetheart," Dogma says from behind you, and judging from the way his cock is twitching in your ass, you assume he's close.

Dogma picks up his pace, ruining your own pace on Kix's cock - or improving it, as Kix groans when you gag, spit pooling from the corners of your mouth. "So wet," Kix comments under his breath, and returns to fucking your mouth again, grunting and moaning with every thrust.

"Oh, Maker!" Dogma sighs as he pushes his cock as deep as it'll go. With his hands tightly around your hips, he earns his release, filling your ass with hot, sticky cum. Your moan is muffled from Kix's cock, who has slowed his thrusts, almost to a halt. Kix waits for Dogma to finish, and once he's slipped out, he manhandles you into a new position.

Kix rolls you onto your back, legs against the edge of the bed. He's clearly in a rush, his orgasm sitting on the edge, and he hurries to slide his cock into your pussy, one leg up on the bed, the other remaining on the floor.

Kix only thrusts a few times before bottoming out and cumming inside, his load mixing with Jesse's, who has finally perked up after passing out on another bunk. "Good girl," Kix mutters as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit, grinding in circles a few times. He's milking his release, slowly fucking you in a hazy post-orgasm state, biting his lip whenever you clench around his overstimulated cock.

When Kix can't take any more, he pulls out, and your clit is left unattended. You can feel his and Jesse's load leaking from you, and your eyes lock onto Tup, who was just eyeing up your cunt, his cheeks turning red at the sight of your sticky, cum soaked pussy.

"We're up, Tup!" Fives says with a laugh, patting his vod on the shoulder, snapping him out of his fixated state. Fives has the audacity to follow up his rhyme with finger guns, causing you to roll your eyes at the cheek of this man.

Tup lets out a "huh?" before realising that it's his turn to play with you. The pair are quick to strip off; Fives leaves his clothes strung over the floor, whilst Tup leaves his on his bunk. Just like the rest of your squad, they're hung, and your holes are already beginning to feel sore at the sight of them.

Fives motions for you to stand, and with extremely wobbly legs, you manage to get up, clinging onto Fives as you do so. "Tup, c'mere and help me out," Fives playfully orders, before turning his focus to you.

He bends down slightly, arms stretched out, and asks for you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Catch her if she falls, Tup," Fives comment, and you hear a soft "oh, kriff," from behind you.

Well, you don't fall. Your legs are wrapped around Fives's waist, hands around his neck, awaiting the next move. Five pauses, staring out into thin air, before realizing his mistake.

"Wait, I want to fuck your ass... Tup, you pick her up," Fives comments, and gently places you back down on the floor, only to spin you around so you're facing Tup instead.

"Idiot," Jesse mutters under his breath, and Fives glares at him over your shoulder.

Tup wraps his arms around your waist, and on his nod, you jump up into his lap. He moves your legs to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing over, and your hands trail up to settle on his shoulders, fingertips playing with his loose strands of hair. Tup, for some reason, is trembling, and you're uncertain if it's from your weight, or his nerves. A soothing kiss on his nose reveals that it's his nerves, as he begins to relax, and your weight is then shared between the two clones as Fives approaches you from behind.

Fives focuses on slipping his cock into your ass, before taking your weight off Tup, allowing him to slide up into your pussy. The pair bottom out, pulling you down onto their lengths, and find an even way to hold your weight, making it easier on everybody.

At first, the pair are an uneven, a sloppy mess, struggling to find the right rhythm. Despite their lack of sync, you're still enjoying yourself, but the second they finally sync up, it's game over. With your hands desperately clinging onto Tup's shoulders, you roll your head back against Fives's shoulder, moaning and groaning as the fuck you.

Tup lets out a sigh as he comments "you're so good for us," his hands kneading at your thighs around his waist.

"Isn't she just?" Fives smirks, and his hands on your ass give you a squeeze. "Poor Tup here looks like he's going to cum already," Fives bites at his vod, and Tup sends him a disappointed glare.

"Play nice, you two," you softly order, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of their play fight.

They let out a "yes, Commander," as their thrusts continue, the sound of synced up skin against skin echoing around the dorm room.

However, the sound of the door opening makes everybody jump out of their skin, and you all turn with wide eyes to see none other than Captain Rex entering the room. Fives and Tup come to a halt, Jesse sits up on his bunk, and everybody awaits Rex's move.

Rex, with a stern expression, reaches a hand out to press the lock button on the dorms' door. "You forgot to lock it," he states, then tuts and shakes his head, scolding his men for their sloppiness.

Rex is still in uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm. The sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaches you, Tup, and Fives, and all three of you watch as Rex comes to a halt in front of you. You gulp, despite being a higher ranking than Rex, and despite knowing that he is also in on this.

The expression Rex gives you sends a shiver down your spine; he raises a single brow, slowly eyeing all of you up and down, before his lips finally trail into a smirk. A gloved hand reaches out and finds its way between your legs, instantly settling over your clit. Rex begins to slowly rub your clit, the fabric of his gloves giving you that something extra, and he speaks up in his usual, bold, military tone.

"You've got to play with her as you're fucking her, boys," Rex states, smirking as he notices everybody's expressions drop, letting out sighs of relief. "How is she meant to cum if you're not focusing on the right areas?" Rex questions, and gestures for his men to pick up their pace again.

Fives and Tup begin bucking up into you again, still slightly nervous, but lust soon takes over and evens them out. Rex turns his full attention to you, and the deepness of his voice makes your pussy clench. "Have these men served you well?" he questions.

"They have," you mutter, nodding as you speak, eager to express your fondness.

"That's good to hear, Commander," the Captain smirks. His eyes stay glued to yours, and you can't bare to look away. His fingers are working wonders on your clit, and the sensation of Fives and Tup tending to you is swiftly becoming too much. Your breaths become quick and short, and your eyes struggle to stay open. Rex takes not and announces, "she's close, boys."

"Go on, show off for Rex," Fives says against your ear, and Tup nods along in agreement. A few more thrusts and you're clenching around their cocks, both men grunting and moaning as you up their sensation. Rex doesn't stop playing with your clit, at first, until your thighs begin to twitch from overstimulation; only then does he pull away, taking a step back and settling his hands on his hips after placing his helmet down on a nearby bunk.

Tup lets out a whine, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. "Good boy, Tup," you direct your praise to him, and that alone is enough to make him cum. Tup buries his head into the curve of your neck, groaning against your skin as his load joins the others inside you, most of it oozing out past his cock and dripping to the floor.

"Kriff, guess it's my turn," Fives comments with a light laugh. He buries his head into your other shoulder, kissing and nipping at your skin as he continues fucking your ass. It doesn't take long for Fives to also cum, burying his length up to the base, and groaning when you twitch from overstimulation. "So karking good," Fives mutters, and repeats his compliment as he lifts his head off your shoulder, before kissing your cheek.

Slowly and steadily, the pair lower you, avoiding the slippy patches of cum on the floor that has dripped from both your holes. You're debauched, exhausted in every aspect, and undeniably cock-dumb as Rex approaches and asks "got room for your Captain?"

"Always," you steadily sigh. Rex chuckles at your eagerness, then gestures for you to get comfortable on a bunk.

You pick Jesse's bunk, seeing as it's already a mess, plus it's in the centre of everybody's line of sight. Knowing Rex, he'll want to make a show of this, turning it into some training exercise as a way of covering up what is really going on here.

You sit back on the bed, falling back onto your elbows, and watch as Rex approaches. He unfastens his codpiece, discarding it onto a nearby bunk, and pulls his semi-hard cock out from beneath his blacks. The Captain is clean-shaven, thick and girthy, another cock to add onto your 'reasons why I can't walk this week' list.

Rex slips his gloves off before pumping himself with one hand, the other reaching down to trail over your overly sensitive cunt. Gentle fingertips slide over your wet folds, and Rex spreads you apart, revealing the sticky mess leaking from your entrance. "I see they've been keeping you full," Rex comments as his fingers trail up to glide over your clit, pressing firmly and flicking over the bud.

"Very full," you nod along. Your eyes flick to Rex's cock, which is now hard, precum leaking like crazy. Rex notices the way you're looking at his length, and he stops pumping his shaft, holding at the base instead, as if to present it.

"Is this what you want?" he teasingly questions, causing you to shudder.

"Yes, Captain," you nod, and Rex lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Place the order, Commander," Rex orders in his own way.

You lick your lips, followed by clearing your throat, and keep your eyes locked onto your Captains as you state "your orders are to fuck me, Captain."

"Yes, Ma'am."

You overhear a handful of men groan at your tone of voice, no doubt working themselves up again. "I'll show you boys how it's done," Rex says with a smug laugh as he moves both of his hands to your knees, and slowly pushes them up until they're almost pressing your shoulders, folding your body in half. He keeps one hand on your knee, the other holding the base of his cock as he begins slipping into you.

It isn't until you feel cold plastoid pressing against your body that you realize he's still in uniform.

Rex is fucking you with his armour on? Oh.

The sound that Rex lets out as he bottoms out is one that will forever play on repeat in the back of your mind. He holds himself there, scrunching his eyes shut as he regains focus, enticed by how wet and warm you feel. Once Rex has evened out, he begins thrusting into you, and oh Kriff, this man does not hold back.

With your body folded in half, Rex is able to drive his cock even deeper, his tip brushing over your g-spot with every thrust. Your legs find their way around his upper back, ankles locking over each other, and to encourage Rex, you press your heel against his back, urging him to give you all he's got. Rex's eyes meet yours, a single brow raised, and he makes a brief comment about how needy you are.

You're already a babbling mess, and Rex has only just begun! No doubt, you'll pass out the second he's finished with you, but your men are here to pick up the pieces, labelling you as a war hero for helping them during such desperate times.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" Rex questions, affectionate eyes locking onto your half-lidded ones.

"G-good," is all you can reply, and Rex chuckles at your cock-dumb mentality.

When words fail, actions speak, and Rex dips his head down to introduce his lips to yours. Despite his heavy thrusts, the kiss is steady, adding to your overstimulation. You've always been fond of your Captain, but you could never quite put your finger on why; now you've got it - it's because he fucks so kriffing good!

As the kiss breaks, you reach around Rex's neck, hands clasping onto his back, attempting to rake your nails into his slippery armour. Rex lets out a soft laugh before kissing along your neck, leaving his mark below where your Jedi robes sit - what a smart man.

"Rex, I'm-" you blurt out.

"I know, sweetheart," Rex replies in a soothing voice, only for his tone to turn stern as he questions "you're going to cum for me, aren't you, Commander?"

Your reply can't seem to leave your lips, so you nod in response. Rex chuckles at your desperation, and to your surprise, he stops what he's doing. His thrusts come to a sharp halt, and he quickly slips his cock from you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open.

Just as you're about to question what he's doing, as are the other clones, he sits on the end of the bed beside you and slips two fingers into your cunt, instantly curling them and fucking you where he left off.

Rex clearly knows something you don't, but you allow him to take the ropes, especially as your orgasm is on the edge. There's a strange sensation in your gut, something you haven't quiet felt before, and judging from the way it's growing with Rex's movements, you assume you'll soon find out.

"Watch and learn, boys," Rex states, but keeps his eyes focused, locked onto yours.

You're putty in his grasp, mewling on the bed, not bothering to hold back on your moans. You're about to cum, any second now, but that foreign sensation takes over instead. Suddenly, everything becomes too much, especially Rex's fingers hitting that soft spot inside you over and over. You yelp as something takes over your body, an orgasm of some kind; on shaky elbows, you rush to prop yourself up, gazing down to watch in amazement as you squirt all over your Captain's arm, the liquid coating his plastoid armour.

"Good girl," Rex coos through gritted teeth, repeating the praise, but doesn't let up just yet. Kriff, you're screaming, even with your hand over your mouth. You fall back onto the bed, clawing at the sheets as this orgasm lasts longer than usual.

Even after you squirt, Rex continues fucking you with his fingers, as if to ensure that you're empty. He eventually calms down, and only then does your volume begin to drop, revealing the vast amount of praise from your troopers.

"That was beautiful, Commander!" Fives calls out.

"Kriff, she's shaking," you overhear Tup comment.

Jesse whines "my karking bed is soaked..." under his breath, which makes you smile to yourself. He was the one to suggest his bed, so he can lie in his wet grave!

A gentle stroke of your hair makes you open your eyes, only to meet Kix, who's gazing down at you. "Are you alright?" he questions.

"Uh-huh," you lazily nod, and he smiles at your exhaustion. Kix slowly props you up, letting you fall back against him. Your eyes trail to Rex, who looks almost as tired as you do. He's wiping something off his thigh, and if your calculations are correct, his thigh was out of your splash zone.

"Did you cum?" you ask Rex, who looks up at you with a tired smile. He nods in confirmation.

"Untouched," Rex states, and you take pride in making him cum in such a way.

You have a sudden burst of energy, and use it to lean forwards and thank your Captain with a kiss. Rex smiles against your lips before playfully nipping at your bottom lip, earning a sarcastic comment of "get a room!" from Jesse.

"I think we should get you into the refresher instead," Rex comments as he breaks the kiss.

"As good as that sounds, I can't walk," you sigh, and attempt to gesture to your jelly-like body, only for your arms to flap about and fall flat at your sides.

Rex laughs at your exhaustion, then informs you that he'll run you a bath instead. You look at him with a surprised expression, to which he states "I know, I wasn't expecting the GAR to treat us to baths, either."

Rex leaves you in the company of Kix, who begins checking over your body whilst asking you over and over if you're alright.

------

A nice, hot bath doesn't take long for Rex to run. Hardcase, now in his blacks, with caution, picks you up and carries you to the dorms' refresher. He's extra gentle as he places your feet on the tile floor, keeping his arm around your waist to steady yourself as you slowly enter the bath.

Hardcase steals a kiss from you, muttering "thanks for tonight, Commander," against your lips before leaving you to it.

Kix enters the second Hardcase exits, bringing you a glass of water and a certain prevention pill. "Let me know if you need anything," he informs you before kissing your forehead and leaving you to relax.

Only for Fives to come barrelling in, instantly blabbering on about how good you were. "I always assumed you'd be quite the slut, but... well, I wasn't expecting that," Fives playfully jabs, and insists that "we should all do it again some time!"

Dogma peers his head around the door and barks at Fives to leave you alone, but the second he shoos Fives out, he replaces the emptiness with himself instead. "Eh, Fives is right," Dogma comments, referring to Fives statement. "But don't tell him I said that," he grumbles as he steals a kiss from you.

You stretch back in the bath, enjoying the GAR assigned bubbles, and just when you think you're alone, Tup appears. "I don't want to smother you..." he sheepishly comments, "but I wanted to thank you for tonight." You can't help but laugh at Tup's kind demeanour, and the smile remains on your lips as Tup offers you a massage.

You accept, under the cheeky condition that Tup joins you in the bath. His cheeks turn pink at your suggestion, and continue turning pink the more he undresses. Tup even attempts to cover himself up as he settles in the bath with you, making you giggle once more.

Tup has your back resting against his chest, tenderly burying his fingertips into your damp skin, softening out those tight areas. You overhear commotion outside, and both of you laugh as it unfolds.

"No fair! Tup's in there having another round with her!" Fives protests, his voice thudding through the thickness of the refresher door.

"Leave her alone, Fives. She's a free woman, she can do what she wants!" Somebody defends, and you're almost certain it's Dogma.

"They're just cuddling, leave them alone," Rex intervenes, and you know it's Rex from his firmness and slight difference in tone.

Following the Captain's orders, you and Tup are left to it, cuddling and lazily washing each other. Once the water turns cold, you both make your exit, drying yourselves off and gawking when Tup lets down his hair, only to refasten it into another, fresh manbun.

A pair of blacks has been left for you on the side, and despite them being a little big, they still fit snugly. As you exit the refresher, the first thing you notice is that Jesse's bed has been completely stripped, bedding in the wash. The dorm is clean, and your clothes and bag have been folded and placed on Jesse's empty bed.

"I guess I'm staying the night," you comment, and gesture to ask who you're bundling up with.

Before anyone can get a word in, the Captain speaks up. "I missed out on most of the night, so I'd like to catch up with you."

You're unsure if 'catch up' means have a chat, or wake up to find Rex spoon-fucking you, but either way, you're down. With a nod of confirmation, you begin settling in for the night, curling up in Rex's bunk as he continues changing from his armour into a fresh pair of blacks to sleep in.

"Wait a minute," Jesse intervenes. "Where am I sleeping?" he questions, setting his hands on his hips with frustration.

"You can go give Tup a cuddle, he loves them, apparently," Fives maliciously comments, sending playful, yet bold daggers at his vod.

"Ah, leave Tup alone," Dogma defends him.

Before Fives can take another jab, Hardcase barks up with "we can spoon!" And Jesse doesn't look too pleased at his suggestion.

"You can join us, Jesse," Rex disgruntledly states.

"You do know these beds are singles, right?" Jesse states as he gestures to the small, single beds, barely big enough for one clone, let alone two, and you.

"Yes, but from what I've seen, the Commander likes it when she has a clone pressed up on either side of her," Rex teases, side-eyeing you as he comments.

An array of laugher fills the air, and Jesse nods in agreement. You remain quiet, as there's no point denying something that is blatantly true!

The lights are soon turned out, and the boys take it in turns to say goodnight to each other. In the dark, you feel Rex join you, manhandling you into position. Your head finds Rex's chest, an arm sprawled out underneath your neck, and your arm wraps around Rex's waist. Jesse then joins, and since your back is free, he decides to spoon you, trapping you perfectly in your 501st sandwich. Before falling asleep, you make a minor comment to Rex, as if to apologize for him not being there tonight. "We'll make sure you come with us next time," you quietly comment, referring to 79's, the venue that lead you here.

Jesse chuckles before mentioning how wild the night went. "You should have seen her, Captain. She's the sluttiest woman in the galaxy, grinding on Hardcase whilst making out with me," Jesse explains, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs for leaking so much information. A few men can be heard giggling in their bunks, if only you could elbow them too.

"Oh really?" Rex responds, his pitch heightening him as he asks. "Well, I'll definitely be there next time, and I'll ensure that I make up for my lack of presence," Rex promises, and knowing Rex, this is a promise he'll keep.

"I can't wait," you reply, softly yawning against Rex's chest.

"Neither can I," Fives comments from across the dorm, earning a giggle from Hardcase.

"Alright, men. That's enough. Go to sleep," Rex orders.

"Yeah, Captain's orders," you playfully comment, earning yet another sea of giggles.

Within time, the bunch calm down, and the air is soon graced with the soothing sounds of snoring clones. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, as your exhausted body is begging for some rest. You doze off, sandwiched snugly between an ARC Trooper and the Captain of the 501st.

What a dream!!!!

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lolita-lollipop · 3 years

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Hizashi and Aizawa kidnapping a young teenage girl, and her bonding and quickly finding comfort with Hizashi, leaving Aizawa to awkwardly attempt at being super soft and all the more gentle to his sensitive little girl, his heart panging with pain every time she flinches or cowers away from him. “You don’t need to be scared of me, kitten.. please”

your little acts of favoritism weren’t necessarily intentional, you hated both of them. they were your brothers teachers, and whoop dee doo, they kidnapped you. but... you liked hizashi more.

it was just something about him that made you believe he was some form of comfort item, probably because he wasnt brooding, and didnt have a mean face, and he was the first human yud ever seen in this place, that all combined into one and he became your rock, your shoulder to cry on. he was just... so nice, although his quirk was loud, somehow he managed to speak softly with you. it was such a bright contrast to at home where two firey blondes always scream at each other, and your father tries to calm it down.

on your first night ever here, you had tried to jump out the window, and were captured by the thick scarves you once admired, hed lectured you, yelled at yiuu even, all you could see were those red eyes of his, and hear his voice. and he scared you, he scared you so much. i guess it justtranslates to now, first impressions are everything, and to you, he looked like a big scary man who would yell at you.

eventually, you stopped caring about how you hated him, or how you wanted to leave, as you clearly never were. so, instead of glaring at them, or crying, you accepted the fact that he was taking care of you. hizashi, hizashi was taking care of you... aizawa though? no way in hell, he was just so... you'd never seen him with a smile, he never tried to talk to you, he just kinda watched you, and it freaked you out, at some point you started believing he was trying to kill you, don't even ask how you came up with that conclusion.

you just couldn't manage to warm up to hi as you'd done so quickly with hizashi, and it showed. you were always tense when alone with him, like he was going to jump out at you any second and stab you, you didnt talk to him , sometimes you felt so anxious around him that you would outright start crying, shaking in some form of fear, or hide yourself under a blanket. although hizashi was proud that you loved him so much, he knew that this was hurting his husband, that his own little girl was scared of him.

so he would always try to coax you into doing things with him, saying things like "can your papa come and help" or "how about we have papa do this with you while I make lunch?", just trying to get him included so you would feel just as comfortable around him as you were with his own self. Sometimes he just left the room to let you have alone time with him. He’d even lectured his husband about how he always looked angry, and that he has to smile form time to time, and not the creepy “I’m gonna kill a villain” smile.

And so Aizawa started trying, not trying to be like hizashi, even that was too much for him, but trying to be nicer, he was a gentle person when he wanted to be, so this came with ease for him, he would tuck you in at night, read you stories, hold you if you cried, feed you, help you bathe (which you usually liked hizashi to do, and in general, inserted himself as a gentle roger in your life. You would expect taht this would work, that because he was so nice to you, because he was so sweet like hizashi, you would accept him as your father.

But nope! Again, first impressions are everything to you, and now, he was written off as the villain of you story, now, you jsut ran off to papa whenever he was around, and didn’t even give him the chance to hang around you, it just made it worse honestly, because now, not only did he look scary, but he also looked fake, which is never good. Every time he would try to if you, you would clutch onto hizashi for dear life, acting like his hand would do nothing but burn you.

Tears would cloud your vision, and he would pulle back, not wanting to cause you any more pain, and jsut stare in. Pure jealousy at his husband, who cooed and gave you a hug.and guess what? You hugged him back, and hid yourself in his chest, willingly, without a fight, without a tear, instead with a smile, most of the times mic wouldn’t interfere, wbatigg ns this to everyone a safe space for you, a place where you should naturally do things, but sometimes, he would give you little bushes int he right direction. Like disappearing completely for my he house so you’ll be forced to talk to Aizawa.

This is one of those times.

Yo been wandering the house for about ten minutes now, waking up form a nap, to find mic absent from his usual place in the rocking chair at your bedside. It was a little after lunchtime, and they’d only given you a small cup of fruit for breakfast (intentional, from mic), you were fairly hungry, and usually he was there to give you food, but you had no idea where he was, you had heard the… other one on the phone in their shared office, but you did not want to talk to him right now.

Aizawa could tell you were awake by the fact that all of the cats were meowing like crazy, and little pattering footsteps had followed his hearing around, mic had left abruptly, probably some little plan of mischief again, he was hizashi after all. He was just waiting for you to either 1: go back to bed, or 2: come to him for help. Mic had specifically told him to follow these rules for after nap time, so he did. And grew progressively more worried as over twenty minutes, trying to read through his students grading work, too distracted by the urge to go find you to accomplish anything.

His worries dissipated though when he saw your little head poking through the door, cat in hand, confused and tired looking, small tears beginning to prick th corners of your eyes, little sniffling sounds left you. His wha specked up form the desk, you’d given up walking around the whole house, your restarting had slowly pent up, you couldn’t manage to find him, and you were so hungry.

“Oh- hey honey, I didn’t know you were up. Do you need something?” He questioned, smiling intently at you, you just inched back into the door frame, breathing heavier by the moment, your hands shook and your head felt like it was going to explode at any point. Youbcontenoajted runnign back to your room and waiting till mic came out where you could hear him, but your stomach grumbled, reminding you how hungry you really are.

“I’m- im looking for daddy. Where is he.” You spoke, a very hushed tone overtook your words, making them almost inaudible for him. His face sunk slowly, he tougher you were actually gonna come for him, but the he remembered taht patience is key, and that he shouldn’t get mad, because it is t your fault taht you’re just a little sensitive, too fragile to handle more than one attachment, he gets it. He jsut at least wanted you to look at him, instead did your little feet, I’m Ayer if you could meet his eyes the. You would see how much he loves you.

“Oh, he left a. Little while ago. Is there something you need from him? Your papa can give him a call if you want, you could even talk to him!” He exclaimed excitedly, plastering that happy smile across his face to seem more inviting, liek mic had told him to do. He stood out of his chair, rounding up the papers and putting them in his file folders.you tried to sink back furthers, almost disappearing behind the doorway, you shook your head aggressively, almost running off, then yet again, your stomach made another noise, and forced you to stay.

“I- no. I’m- im hungry-“ you spluttered, not caring if it was embarrassing that you were stuttering so much, you just wanted food. And calling mic would just get you a lecture on how you could’ve just asked your papa, the same thing would happen whenever you went to uncnecesary lengths to avoid the man, your daddy would make sure you knew that it made him feel bad, while you’d at there bored. Not caring, at all.

“Oh- well you should’ve told me sooner kitten, if I’d known I would be up already. Cmon, let’s go to the kitchen, your daddy made you some food earlier” he spoke, rising from his chair slowly, you cowered slightly as he walked over, clutching the little kitten right to you for comfort, he mewed and snuggled closer, completely asleep. The man sighed when he saw you backing away from his grasp, he knew you were still scared. But he was just so impatient… he was tired of waiting, he wanted to hold you, even if it was jsut foena few minutes. He needed it feel you there with him.

Is he acted quickly, moving in a matter of seconds, he swooped his arm under your leg, and hooked his other around your torso, pulling you straight up into his grasp. Youu huh froze, his hands felt cold as ice on your skin, like they were burning you, immediately after he started walking, it snapped you out of it and you threw a fit. You dig your fingernails into his skin, and kicked and flailed in a panic, still trying to keep the little kitten in your lap safe. A full blown panic washed over you, clogging all your senses.

The dam holding back tears form your eyes crashed, and immediately you were sobbing, biting at his shoulder to let you go, he tried to rub your back to calm you down a bit, but just made it worse, as his hands felt like living anxiety creeping up and down your spine. He didn’t know what to do, let you ride it out, andkk no possibly have you get sick because of how much your crying in an empty stomach? Or let you down and go straight back to square one.

Your veined felt like pure ice had flooded in them, and it felt liek someone was repeatedly jabbing you in the head with tiny needes, fear was jsut so prominent in your sense, it overcame you, and made you whimper and scream.

“Whoah, breath for me alright? I just want to hold you. I’m not going to hurt you okay? I would never hurt you. Kitten… you don’t have to be scared of me” he spoke, trying to keep a proper computers, he wanted to cry with you, he wasn’t a very soft or emotional man but honestly, he was so upset with himself already, this was jsut pushing him for the edge. You cried, and cried, at some point you weren’t even crying and screaming at him, more with him. He held you close, you’d stopped the struggle almost five minutes ago, letting him hold you. It was odd. It almost felt… nice.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m being stupid again” You alien through your remaining little hiccups, shove my your face into his shirt, smelling the woody scent he carried around with him. He cooed, letting you hide yourself from him, savouring this soft moment was of top priorirty in his head… you jsut looked so sweet, so different from those harsh cries that would sound usually whenever he came around.

Who would think, shouts aizawas hand couldn’t feel nice? The same ones that had just been burning you, the ones that made you scream, felt like a breeze on a spring day, he actually felt warm, he felt like happiness, like contentment.

“No hon, it’s not stupid. Your scared. I know that, we all get scared and it’s not a bad thing, I love you, I really, really love you kitten. Just know that” he continued on with his little speech, leaving down to kiss you in the forehead, Jsut to be suprised when you didn’t flinfh, you were too tired to be scared; and too hungry, plus, he was really warm, the cat had pretty much snuggled up to him already, who says you shouldn’t.

“I- um- I love you… to?” You spoke, more of a question than anything, you’d spent so long Harding him that you didn’t know if you even could love him, it didn’t even feel possible, then again, you litterally cling to hizashi like a koala, and your mental state has relaly said “swoopity swoop” and scattered itself everywhere. Maybe having two comfort items was actually better than one… huh.

“Well, let’s go eat then. All taht crying probably made you tired, I’ll let you watch a movie in my office, you can watch pinto again, I know you love taht one. Cmon, let’s go” he spoke, and started walking again, you cuddled closer to him as he did, smiling slightly at the warmth. Hizashi was very extravagant, exiting, and hyper, this man felt very cool, calm, it was such a dark contrast, but it worked so well. You jsut… you Jsut liked it.

Well… now we’ll just have to wait and see who’s the favorite

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you for requesting! It was super fun to write and had me feeling super happy when I finished :)

I’m thinking about doing yandere todoroki family asks, because I’m litterally in love with @i-cant-sing one… so, requests are open for those if you want to put them in (please do I’m begging)

Anywho, have the most wonderful to days today! Goodbye!

#platonic obsession #platonic yandere #soft yandere #yandere my hero academia #yandere platonic #yandere #yandere poly #yandere erasermic #yandere Aizawa #yandere hizashi #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere present mic #yandere eraserhead #yandere x reader

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kcatta-wodahs · 3 years

Text

Making Lore Out of the Angel Event

Im the definition of 'its not that deep but I'm going to dig a hole to make it that deep'

In this case its me making it that deep because otherwise this event is upsetting so I'm making some dark lore theories to make it make sense to me.

I'll have a lot of spoilers below. For the event and everything I know, which is up to like lesson 32 I think.

Basically, TLDR; this was an attack by Michael/their Father on Devildom. Simeon and Diavolo have successfully negated the threat by turning it into a game.

TLDR Thesis; The Celestial Realm is governed through careful mind control. The Demon Bros are not "avatars" because of being demons- they have been cursed by their Father to suffer as no other demon nor angel has to.

First we hear direct from Michael, and he's giving these bangles that appear to brainwash the main cast.

This was an attempt by their Father to bring them back under his control. By control, I mean this literally.

I've felt for a long time that the way the Celestial Realm seems to be run is... shady. It's a utopia to outside appearances only, and those who have been most deeply embroiled in the Great Celestial War know this.

The Great Celestial War was over free will, rather than the specifics of Lilith's situation. She was the catalyst for a long-time-coming revolt against the rulers of the Celestial Realm.

My logic for this:

The reason for Lilith's expulsion goes against the current action plan of the Celestial Realm. Peace between the realms? Sure, but their Father is bound to realize that you put angels, humans, and demons together you're going to end up with more angels like Lilith, who fall for other races. Why would he accept this truce if he lost his favored children over an issue that is very similar? Did he have a change of heart? Heavens no.

Luke's behaviour towards the demon's seems case-and-point. Luke is not the strange one out of the angelic transfer students- Simeon is. Not only that, Simeon is chosen not in an attempt to promote peace, but to protect Luke from being influenced. (Which is, again, the whole point\of the exchange program.)

That time we went to the Celestial Realm for real - Lucifer was worried. Scared, even. This can be explained by, you know, the War and Lilith.. but I wonder if it may be more sinister. Like perhaps being brainwashed.

Diavolo and Barbatos weren’t required to wear bangles to become less “demon-like” for the “party”. This is because the bangles were a ploy to get the brothers back.

My theory is that when an angel begins to show signs of rebellion or questioning the divine order, they are forcibly stopped. Michael is that enforcer, and these 'gifts' are a method of stopping them.

The bangles cause a person to act *perfectly angelic* against their free will. The people affected become all smiles and sunshine, so clearly nothing could be wrong with it, right? They’re happy, right?

No. Very not right, and we can see that through Satan.

Poor Satan is always the exception to the rule of the Brothers, as his circumstances are different from everyone else's.

In this case though, he's the one who provides insight on this mind control.

Let me remind you of the quotes Satan gives us during this time:

“I feel worked up.” “I don’t feel like myself at all.”

“It feels like something foreign is forcing my heart to be calm.” “Like my heart... becoming tranquil.”

Satan has never been an angel. He has never experienced this before. He has something the other brothers don’t: self-reflection. Satan can tell the difference between his feelings and feelings that are being imposed upon him. He tells you what he feels - “worked up” and “not like himself” and he is not smiling during this. He’s clearly unhappy, even though an angel might say he should feel unburdened by losing his anger.

He even mentions this.

“Normally, that wouldn’t seem like something bad, right?” “Something isn’t right.” “Maybe you shouldn’t come near me when I’m in this state.”

Satan is under the effects of the bangle, being forced to act angelic, but he can tell something “isn’t right.” He clearly shows that he thinks this is a “bad” thing, not because being calm is bad, but because it’s not “normal”. And can I remind you that he’s the Avatar of Wrath? The Sin that is most likely to be dangerous to be around - and yet it’s only when his anger is forcibly quelled that he thinks you should stay away from him. He knows that this is not something to desire. He knows that it is not happiness.

“I can’t concentrate on reading today.”

I mean, he’s obviously going through a lot, so that’s fair. But I have the theory that if he were to try and research this condition he wouldn’t be able to either. I have a theory about the Garden of Eden. My theory is about Paradise.

Remember when Eve ate the fruit? Do you know what that fruit was? Sin?

No. That fruit was knowledge.

Specifically, knowledge of good and evil. Now, why would this knowledge be something to keep from those under the control of the Celestial Realm? It sounds rather like they might be able to then make their own decisions of what is right and wrong.

Satan has known this from the beginning. Knowledge is power. The Ruler of the Celestial Realm, the other demons’ Father, knows this, too.

Why are there no other Avatars?

Sin was not something inherent to Devildom. Sin is a judgement sent from the Celestial Realm. There are no other Avatars because they are a wholly angelic creation. There are other posts that have examined the Sins as outlets, and how each of the brothers are attempting to find ways to allow themselves to express their sin so it does not overtake them.

From the get-go, we are shown that these Sins are a defining point for the brothers, but we’re also shown that they cause more trouble than anything else. Again, part-and-parcel of being a demon, right?

So why aren’t other demons like this?

Look at Diavolo and Barbatos, or even just the background demons who work across Devildom. Look at No. 2. They are all far more complex, and could even be considered normal. No. 2 is specifically meant to be based off of Mammon and his greed, but is much more rounded when we interact with it.

If Diavolo is meant to be the ruler of demonkind -- the paragon of what a demon should be -- then why would he not be the epitome of all of these Sins in one? What is Diavolo, instead?

Diavolo is accepting.

Hold up a moment here. What? Sorry y’all but it sounds to me like Mr. Demon Daddy King trusts his son enough to pass the kingdom on to him... so that must mean that Diavolo is behaving as a demon should.

Barbatos doesn’t question Diavolo’s choices. Nobody does. He’s an all around popular ruler. Devildom seems to be quite.. the opposite of what we’ve been trained to expect, huh? Trained by who exactly?

What are the Demon Brothers?

Cursed. They don’t act like other demons because they’re not like other demons. When they rebelled against their Father, they were punished for this act, but I posit that the punishment and the exile were two different acts. Their Father knew that leaving the Celestial Realm was not punishment to those who desired free will. So instead, he gave them Sin. Something that Demons are not normally bound to.

But how would the brothers know this? They only know what they’ve been taught by angels about demons. Surely these new, pressing desires come from turning into demons..?

So, why was this not taken seriously?

Short answer: it was. But in the way that aligns with Diavolo’s ultimate goals.

Diavolo wants peace.

Let’s Talk About Simeon

Simeon is an enigma and a half isn’t he?

Simeon is close with Michael, closer than Luke in any case. Now, I’ll be honest, I can’t remember if it was a fanfiction I read that said this or if it was canon so uh - forgive me. But Simeon was chosen to accompany Luke as an exchange student so that Luke would get some education. Simeon says this is to help relations, as Diavolo wants, but of course that’s what you would say as a sleeper agent?

Now, don’t get sad. Because we love Simeon here and we support him.

Simeon is wise and neutral. He seems to support the brothers, and even still wishes to foster a relationship with them. This could be seen as an attempt to bring them back, or some such, but I like to think that Simeon knows what’s wrong with the Celestial Realm.

Simeon, however, doesn’t think that a revolt can solve it. Simeon is working with Diavolo to create a form of peace - and has been transparent about the fact that Michael chose him to prevent Luke from being corrupted. I like to think he’s also been transparent with Diavolo about Michael’s actual goal.

Simeon believes that the races should co-exist and love freely. How could love be evil, after all? Whether or not this is a new concept to him (because of his falling for you) or if this is just who he is, I’ll leave up to you and your preferences, but since he is now no longer undateable, it is established that he does not believe love between angels and humans to be bad - as his Father did with Lilith.

What happened, then?

My theory is that Simeon told Diavolo that Michael had given him a task - to give these bangles to the brothers to remind them of the joy they were missing by disobeying the Divine Order. Either that, or to brainwash them into coming back home.

Simeon’s position would be revealed to Michael if he didn’t give the brothers the bangles, but he does not want to instigate another war either. So he told Diavolo Michael’s plan.

Diavolo wants peace, and he knows that with time, the brothers can overcome this mind control as they had in the past - especially with his help.

So thus comes the “party”.

An excuse to make the bangles seem like a “harmless” gift, that had only gone wrong because of strange magical interference, when really they had done exactly what they were supposed to.

And a wonderful way to maintain peace while leaving the Celestial Realm to stew in their own pots.

Simeon gets to maintain his facade for everyone - and put on a show for Michael as being loyal. He also gets to show Luke that perhaps being wholly angelic isn’t the way for some people, letting him learn a little more about peaceful coexistence. Nothing happens to ruin Diavolo’s grand plan for peace, and he gets to learn more about the curse that is set upon his friends - One that he hopes to be able to break someday, so they can live their lives unfettered by their Father.

#okay this has gone on long enough #i have other ideas about satan in this whole situation but this is my canon now okay #the celestial realm is shady af #Our group of friends are the ones trying to rebel against it #but also are the victims of what happens if you do #man i wish that they would go into deep lore and plot like this in the game #but its an otome so i can't really expect that #anyway this is how im going to treat the whole thing #obey me lore #lore #bast babbles #obey me event #angel event #obey me angel event #obey me #obey me shall we date #obswd #headcanons

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dai-bendu-conlang · 3 years

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Jesara! Uera'ah foh a'ain nevi sedoremak vrhu nak kewanan uu Dai Bendu. ¿A'ainah keel nev det zera? [tried] foh: Tumi eno'ah sooan, ji tumi eno'ah kai'an; tumi eno'ah imleoan, ji tumi eno'ah wanan (leoan?); tumi eno'ah (passion), ji tumi eno'ah (serenity); tumi eno'ah (chaos), ji tumi eno'ah aimato; tumi eno'ah keraian, ji tumi eno'ah Dai. [aiming for: Hello! I would like to translate the Jedi Code Mantra into Dai Bendu. How would you say this? I tried:] Qasreash!

i tried to translate some of the classic meditation mantra into dai bendu (the one everyone calls the code). there were some limitations in vocab, so i just went with the last part. i ended up translating it as "xai eno'ah imkerai'anak mellu, eno'ah dai", my attempt at "where (because of the force) there is no death, is the force." i didn't quite know where to put "mellu" though tbh

Have you done the Jedi mantra in Dai Bendu? Specifically the version which goes "Emotion, yet peace/Ignorance, yet knowledge" etc?

Hello! Sorry for the late reply, Tevya, we already discussed this on the server, but here for the public:

There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.

Im tumi tamah soo’yth, ji xai enoah kai’an. Im tumi tamah delahm, ji xai enoah leo’yth. Im tumi tamah bexlyth, ji xai enoah maijah. Im tumi tamah chiiuth, ji xai enoah aimato. Im tumi tamah kerai’yth, ji xai enoah Dai.

Emotion, yet peace. Ignorance, yet knowledge. Passion, yet serenity. Chaos, yet harmony. Death, yet the Force.

Soo’yth, kyii kai’an. Delahm, kyii leo’yth. Bexlyth, kyii maijah. Chiiuth, kyii aimato. Kerai’yth, kyii Dai.

Life would be easier if we could just leave the code here, but unfortunately this is something the fandom fights and dissects over and over again. Therefore, we will elaborate a little on our word choices here and our interpretation of the code. First things first, we say this openly: This is, of course, yet another interpretation of the code. This is colored by our view on the Jedi and what we assume this code is supposed to mean and serve as. We don’t claim this is The Meaning Of The Code, but the way we understand it in English and then attempt to give it nuance in Dai Bendu. You are, of course, welcome to disregard this or make your own translation of it!

That being said, let’s get started with the purpose of the code. First, something about i’s history. Research done by the wonderful @ilummoss in this post.

What is now commonly called the “Jedi Code” originates from a 1987 roleplaying rulebook (Star Wars: The Roleplaying Game)

The second “yet” version shows up in Kanan: First Blood

This “code” is a mantra and not a code of conduct/law

Now let’s turn to the purpose of the Code/Mantra! The Jedi Code is one of the first things the younglings learn in the temple, which we assume means that you kind of learn it at the age you also end up learning nursery rhymes. You can see them chant it, repeat it. The purpose of mantras is to help focus/calm your mind. So, what conclusion can we draw from this? This Code is likely supposed to help the children focus on their connection to the Force so it must be an instrument to teach them how to interact with it.

From this, we draw our first conclusion: The second half of each line (peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony) is about the Force. The Force is all of these attributed.

Our second conclusion, derived from this, is that the first half of each line (emotion, ignorance, passion, chaos, death) are the things you bring with you into the Force. In moderation, all of these things are good. Being happy, knowing which knowledge is good for you, being passionate about something you love, knowing life can be a bit chaotic, and death, which is a part of life.

However, when you don’t keep those in check, they overwhelm you, twist and become negative. Contrasting Obi-Wan, who does feel emotion, deeply, and yet doesn’t get overwhelmed, while Anakin does and it ruins him, shows this very neatly. So these aspects can all be wonderful, but you have to be careful not to drag them with you into the Force or use them to access the Force in such a way.

Now, let’s get started on our translation. Let’s start easy with the nouns and do it line by line:

There is no emotion, there is peace. - Im tumi tamah soo’yth, ji xai enoah kai’an

soo’yth, nominalization of the verb soo, which means “to feel” in an emotional sense. kai’an, meaning “inner peace” As in being at peace with yourself e.g. basically the state required for Force Ghosting.

This line is pretty similar to its English equivalent. We wanted to emphasize that peace is not a state of being that’s everywhere or political, but it’s something inside you. The quiet in the eye of the storm.

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. - Im tumi tamah delahm, ji xai enoah leo’yth

delahm is an interesting noun as it refers to “ignorance” as well as “the inability to help”. We wondered what kind of background a term such as ignorance has especially in the context of the Jedi valuing knowledge and learning a lot. As such we defined that “ignorance” would correspond more closely to the inability to help. As long as you know something, or aware of where you stand, you are not helpless. leo’yth is the nominalization of the verb leo meaning “to know” and so “knowledge”.

With this line, we really wanted to dig into this idea of knowledge is not just factual knowledge, but also wisdom. And if you act without wisdom, ignorant, perhaps even purposefully so, this is not something to favor. Of course nobody is expected to know everything, but you are supposed to remember, to know, that you can always ask others for help.

There is no passion, there is serenity. - Im tumi tamah bexlyth, ji xai enoah maijah

bexlyth is the nominalization of the verb bexl, which refers to covet/attached love and as the noun leans more into the concept of “passion” and “obsession”. maijah, on the other hand, translates as “serenity, calm, tranquillity”.

Our intention here was to elaborate on the huge dimension behind passion. Passion in and of itself is nothing bad, but it can be if it is done out of obsession. When considering that this mantra is used to interact with the Force, it might also demand that you leave every other thought behind and focus only on the Force.

There is no chaos, there is harmony. - Im tumi tamah chiiuth, ji xai enoah aimato

chiiuth means “chaos, destruction, unrest” where aimato is “harmony” and “cosmic balance”. Cosmic balance is here the state which we assume the Jedi want to achieve in the entire galaxy. When canon speaks of “there needs to be balance”, this is it.

Here we have chaos as everything that disrupts the harmony. Of course there is something such as good chaos, it would be quite boring if every day were the same, stagnant, but in this case we decide that chaos and destruction does not exist negatively in the Force. There are plants that require forest fires before they can sprout - the natural circle of life includes chaos and destruction, but only ever in a way that plays in harmony with its other parts, rebirth and healing.

There is no death, there is the Force - Im tumi tamah kerai’yth, ji xai enoah Dai

kerai’yth is the nominalization of the verb kerai, which means “to die”. This line is pretty much the same as the original version.

Now that we’ve got all the vocabulary done, let’s talk a bit about grammar. We’ll start with the first part of each sentence Im tumi tamah.

tamah is the present tense form of the temporary form of “to be”. We chose to use this instead of “enoah” to show that these states of being are temporary and not, like the Force and its attributes, eternal.

A little opposed to this is our choice of the consequential marker tumi. tumi marks a state of somethat that is currently happening and will continue to happen in the future. This is used mostly for statements of being. As you can see, this is in contrast to our choice of tamah, but the reason for that is hidden in our negation particle im.

Im, in this case, negates the whole expression. tumi tamah gives the speaker the understanding that something temporary is the current state of being, when negating this entire sentence, we get the translation that this temporary experience is not your new and eternal state of being.

Which brings us to the differences in syntax and overall translation. In the structure of the original Basic sentence, the negation only has scope over the noun. In There is no chaos, the “no” negates only “chaos”. The literal translation of the Dai Bendu version would be more along the lines of “Not is there any state of chaos”, which, of course, is a lot more wordy.

Now, on the flip side, we have there is. In Dai Bendu, we have ji xai enoah. ji means “but”. We inserted this preposition here to highlight the contrast and negation. The first half of each statement says what there is not, but that doesn’t mean you are lost because in the Force, you will find the other.

enoah is our eternal/permanent form of “to be”. The Force is eternal, it will forever be all these attributes the Jedi give to it. xai is our Force-influenced marker. It represents that an action took place because the Force destined it to be, it is “Force-willed” if you want. This makes the entire sentence a bit self-referential and implies that this state is eternal because the Force is and because the Force wants it to be. The Jedi believe singularly in the Light side of the Force and see the Dark as a corruption and poisoning of it. Therefore, the Force strives for peace, knowledge, serenity, harmony as much as it embodies it.

Now that we have discussed both statements, we can put together a full literal translation:

There is no emotion, there is peace turns into Not is there a state of emotion, but the Force wills there to be peace within itself.

And that is, all in all, a pretty sweet mantra to hold onto.

Now! For some explanation on the shortened version. We know that both versions existed during the prequels at the same time, which suggests two things: either they were both passed on independently/complementary, or they are identical in meaning.

Emotion, yet peace - Soo’yth, kyii kai’an

The word “yet” is very interesting because its meaning is inherently “despite that/but/even though”, which means that this shortened form of the mantra can actually be read identically to the long one. By striking the negation out of the sentence, you need a preposition with that inherent negative meaning, which is something “yet” is capable of!

So in our reading of this shortened mantra, it’s identical to the long one, but given how many syllables the long one has, it’s no wonder they have the Initiates recite the short one. So there is no secret “oh no, the Jedi don’t acknowledge emotions so we need this updated better version of the code!” hidden away here.

#dai bendu #jedi #star wars #meta #translations #anon #tevyaa #ask

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miniaturecrow · 2 years

Text

idk the odds of this getting out to anyone but i thought id try it?

im caw! i used to run @megalomaxiac (and that theta that i forgot the url to oops lol)

i was digging through the tags looking for icons and got like a rush of nostalgia. people in the community still rp? which is so cool? wanted to log back into that account and make this post but it wouldn't let me since it's been too long.

so here i am! i know i wasn't the best person out there, i had a lot of mental problems and things going on at the time, so i don't really know what peoples perception of me was? or at least how they remember me? which maybe ill end up regretting this but at least i never found a call out post about me lmao. but hey im better ! at least better than i used to be. genuinely i don't think that blog helped me much mentally lmao

felix was such an impactful part of my life and it's an experience i will never forget, for better or worse, solely because of the people that rp'd with me. i don't want to go out of my way to tag specific people and bother them but if you remember me i love you and i hope you have a nice day.

i don't use tumblr anymore but if you wanna dm me or anything follow me on twitter i would love to talk again!! even just for a few minutes! i am feeling super nostalgic! @/beastmanbastrd i promise im nice and funny it's hard to believe who i used to be years ago.

anyway thank you for reading, sorry if any y'all had to deal with me back then i hope at least some of the things that came from that blog made other people happy too.

#rvb #rvb rp #red vs blue #rvb felix

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sugurus-slxt · 3 years

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hello friend 😌

i would like a ruby from the beloved vault pls for jujustu kaisen there’s not really anyone i would hate to get

my personality type is entp and i’m a sagittarius (but i’m really not a horoscope person so i have no clue what that means) i’m a cis straight female (ik boring 🥱) so my pronouns are she/her

uhhh what else

i love dogs i’m totally a dog person no question abt it

hate

bugs

i have the worst entomophobia and arachnophobia i’ve ever seen in a person (literally break out on psychosomatic hives when i see a bug)

my main hobbies are dance, singing, acting, lifting, and fighting??? like training

i am both a meathead and a theatre nerd 😌

it’s really hard to pick a specific music genre i like but i think one that i like pretty consistently is like classic and alt rock

red is my absolute favorite color im almost always wearing it or i have something that’s colored red

ik its weird but the idea of bugging my partner all the time and them like clapping back at me is so fun someone who is on the quieter side (not shy just relaxed cause i never stfu) but has a great sense of humor is just *chefs kiss*

Q U A L I T Y T I M E

my love language is without a doubt quality time

my family is always either telling me that i talk too much or straight up ignoring me when i try to hold convos with them

so someone who WANTS to listen to me ramble just warms my heart

i am so stubborn

if u suggest something to me and u think i can’t do it i will kill myself trying to prove u wrong

that might be from the competitiveness of growing up with brothers but i think it’s cute ☺️

i think that’s really it i hope i didn’t forget anything and i can’t wait to see who u choose for me

kithes 🥰

Personality Matchup

One 𝑅𝓊𝒷𝓎 coming right up for @lmaosupertuff

A/Note: Hey! Hey! Hey! Thank you so much and of course, you can. You’re not boring for being straight and a cis female hun, it’s just who you are and there’s absolutely nothing boring about that. I hope you like the match up :) Love <3 ~ Sar-chan

THE VAULT HERE

I match you with...

Runner Up: Itadori Yūji

Did I base a lot of that off the dogs and the quiet person part, maybe …? But it helped me decide between Itadori and Megumi because originally my first thought was Itadori but reading a little more I opted for the latter.

Here are some HCs:

Megumi originally makes a fuss about summoning his shikigami just for you to pet, it takes a bit of grumbling from him but he does it.

When he sees the way your eyes light up, and how happy the divine dog is around you he’ll summon them more often, but with an exude. He’ll say something like, “I’m training my cursed energy and plus they need to stretch.”

The truth is he likes seeing you happy but he isn’t going to admit that, he has an extremely soft spot for you and sees you as a bright spec of goodness, in all the evil the world contains.

I think Megumi often comes off tense but he doesn’t like showing weakness in front of you, that’s why he fears showing his softer side.

Maybe the first time he sees your reaction to buys he’s confused until he actually sees why, from then on he kills and keeps you away from any bug he sees, if he leaves you with Yuji, he makes sure to advise him of it. But on any occasion he will leave his Divine Dig with you, just to be careful.

Maybe when you’re training or working, more than often I think Yuji comes along, or sometimes Maki will take you up for a challenge just to test her and your strengths.

I think Maki will complement your capability in a sort of nonchalant way and if Megumi is there he’ll say, “I know.” This is because I think when he gets to know someone; he knows knows them and has a rather good read on people.

He’s confident in your ability and seeing them spend time with you training he’ll not visibly get jealous but want to train with you more, and try to spend more time with you. I think he’ll be possessive of you but you’d never notice it, it’s not in a toxic way. Sometimes it ends with you being pinned to the training mat and it's one of the few times you’d get to see him smirk.

Nobara will definitely comment on it, causing him to flush red and quickly help you up.

I don’t think Megumi is into theatre that much but he will always watch you, if he’s busy he’ll try to make time for you and will manage to make him laugh if you pull out a line from a script randomly.

Megumi is the type to secretly listen to you while you sing, like by the doorway or behind you, your voice will become his favourite thing. One time he will work up the courage to ask you to sing him a lullaby because he’s having a hard time sleeping.

If you want to dance with him he’ll refuse but if he sees anyone else dance with you he’ll give and find himself enjoying it much more than he thought. He asks you to dance with him more often.

Megumi can get annoyed and will snap at you but he will apologise after a while.

He loves silent quality time with you; maybe he’ll lay his head on your lap as both of you read a book or naps together.

He’s more of a listener and will not really give his input unless you want it, he admires the way you are passionate about something and wishes to be that way with himself.

EXTRA:

I hope you like your 𝑅𝓊𝒷𝓎 dear :) *kithe kithe*

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tema-makes-art-sometimes · 3 years

Note

002 for gercanmano please?

002 | send me a ship and I will tell you:

GerCanMano

when I started shipping it.

Maybe a year to two years ago? It’s hard to say I can’t really remember. I don’t know what sparked it, but either way I know it started with my friend Lemon. Either we were doing things with the BFT and I had made a joke about baby BFT with Romano, Germany and Canada and it just developed discussions from there. Or it was me struggling between the three proponent ships and Lemon being like ‘why don’t you just make them a poly’ and like sun coming out from behind the clouds it finally dawned on me by the power of citrus. Either way it was something I kept messing with, and the more I talked about it the more people hopped on board with me. We’re still just a raft in a sea of ships but I made this baby and I’m proud of it.

I will say I have had a lot of people talk to me like I made it, and while I do want to take some credit cause I put a lot of time into them, I have heard it used to be a ship back in the old hetalia days. But I haven’t found any old fanworks of it. And trust me I scoured every fic and art site I could think of. Maybe it was something only seen in RP groups so it never got published fic or art but I crave content for it so if it was originally a thing and there’s content around let me know please I don’t wanna take credit for it fully but I have not found another person who shipped it before they talked to me.

my thoughts:

Literally some of the only serotonin I get in these trying times. I love them so much they make me so happy. An unbelievably strong power house trio who could do damn near about anything together. They have it all.

I could go on for hours about small scenarios or aus with them. Like I’m a multi-shipper but fuck man they’re my OTP. I can and do ship other things with them, but man they make me melt with joy.

I made a playlist for it, I’m still building it but I like ti so far. I wish I could find more three person love songs but for now I have songs for each of the three lads, and the three ships that make up it, so it works! Might change some of them but I like what I have so far!

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLC4nWN-9zrnEOeLgihkaqQOpPO6nEnc81

Germany and Romano: A Lovely Night and If I Could Tell Her

Romano and Canada: Best Worst Mistake

Canada and Germany: Guy That I’d Kind of Be Into

Germany General: When He Sees Me and Little Miss Perfect (President Perfect)

Romano General: I Won’t Say I’m in Love (so original I know)

Canada General: Would You Be So Kind? and Piece of Art

What makes me happy about them:

Literally everything. Their characters, the dynamics, the growth they create together. They may not work in every story of mine but when they work they really work. They push each member of the ship to grow as a person. Germany finding support he may not have originally had, Canada finding the confidence and support in a group that won’t forget him, Romano finally feeling safe enough to open up to others in a way he didn’t feel safe doing before. It’s just the good fucking food. You can put it in different settings and it just works, they’re able to play off one another in a really great way and pull them out of their comfort zones in ways that other ships don’t hit me as hard with.

What makes me sad about them:

That I am literally one of the only people who makes content for it. I have scoured the internet I can’t find anything, ANYTHING. And often I cannot get people to follow me on it, I’ve been getting more people on board slowly but surely but STILL-- That or they really try to push the whole ‘i ship it with (ship thats similar but with one of the brothers swapped out for the other)’ on me when I’m talking about it and I’m just like. I asked for GerCanMano I didn’t ask for your opinion. I’ve thought about the other ship conbo’s with their other brothers, I just like this one the best.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me:

When this ship is treated as a lesser to other ships around the three characters. People going like well I think it would be better if it was ‘swaps one of the brothers out for the other’ but that’s not the point. Also this is a general problem I have with Germano/GerCan as well but people making it all about their family’s or brothers reactions and how it effects their brothers instead of their relationship. ESPECIALLY between Romano and Italy.

It’s almost always a cheating on their ‘true love’ or some sort of affair fic and it doesn’t focus on their love and living together and more about them bouncing around to avoid getting caught and I just don’t care enough. I just want to see them in a loving happy relationship, and interacting with one another. Prussia, America’s and ESPECIALLY Italy’s reactions don’t matter to me. When it comes to say GerIta fics, there are a few that address Romano’s feelings toward Italy’s relationship, but not all of them. Hell some of them don’t have a mention or hair of Romano, but when the position is reversed with Germano suddenly even if he’s not in the fic it’s all about how Italy feels about it or how it effects him or hiding it from him.

I dont want to watch Germany go back and forth about which Italy brother he likes while dating both. It’s one just not in character and two its uncomfortable. I read this fic for the gercanmano Im not here to hear that Germany’s cheating on and warring with his feelings toward Italy or Canada sleeping around behind Prussia’s back. It’s boring and I’m tired of reading it. I’m digging into specifics of the three component ships cause there are no fanfics of GerCanMano so I can’t talk about what annoys in their base fics.

I had like one person write GerCanMano into their RusPrus fic, which was cool. but then they were a nazi apologist. So I can’t exactly read it anymore. I have nothing else to compare to but the base three ships of Germano, GerCan and Canmano

Things I look for in fanfic I don’t ask much I just want them to exist without me having to write all of them. I wanna find content other people have made, not that I’m lazy and think peopel should make content for me, just that I get bored of reading my own writing. If I wanna be really picky, letting it be a quickly established relationship and getting to see them in the relationship, learning about each other living together dealing with problems together that doesn’t just have them break up after one fight.

Having them in a functioning relationship before the story is over. Letting that relationship blossom past the start or the first date before the fic is finished. It’s sad when a romance story ends with them getting together cause there’s so much more relationship to have-- ;^; what about cooking together and cuddles on the couch and date nights and small fights and family gatherings--

My happily ever after for them:

It’s hard to write a happily ever after for nations or for anything to be honest cause life keeps going, growing, changing etc. But I’d love them to have a wedding and just a calm, slice of life kind of life together. A nice house, a big garden, a pond in the back where in the winter Germany and Canada can ice skate. A nice big garage where Germany and Romano can work on cars, Maybe near the woods so they can all go hiking,

Nothing fancy. A nice place that smells like warm coffee in the morning, that’s lively with sound of loved ones and shenanigans during the day and quiet whispers of affection at night. They get together but meetings are less boring, they have plans with their family and friends. Spain, France and Prussia loving to tease their little siblings/kids about things and make sure they’re doing okay. Veneziano always trying to help Romano come up with romantic shenanigans to use against his husbands. America just being happy his bro is happy.

Just soft wholesome life stuff. ;;

My kinks:

These are going below for discussions of not safe for work topics. I’m not going light so dive below at your own risk. (sex discussion, kink discussion, general ns//fw content)

I exclusively write top Canada. Like, I just do. I don’t really draw or write him taking it, I don’t know why I just don’t. Doesn’t mean he isn’t put under someone’s thumb in bed, but they’re still riding. There are very very few instances where I have written him taking. Again I don’t know why. Maybe it’s just the concept of soft pastel uwu boy slamming Germany into a wall, maybe it’s the thought of Canada in heels and leather just with the vibe of ‘go ahead tell them. no one will believe you’.

Canada isn’t any kinkier than Germany, but he’s more confident than Germany about it. He’s got a little bit of jealous neediness in the back of his brain so when it comes to sex he loves when his partner’s attention is on him. He loves to spoil and get spoiled and is the roughest of the three. Just a tiny, tiny bit of masochism/sadism. Very small. It’s very much he’ll do it (with safe words set in place and everything) but he will feel eh about it afterward and make sure that they don’t take away that he hates them or anything. In the inverse hes very very good at fluffing people up and body worship, as well as demeaning talk. Loves role-playing, hence slipping into the mind where he’s got the confidence to throw Germany around the bedroom. He loves especially tying them up and just watching them writhe-

Germany is a switch, fight me on it. If you think that man who has very little canon confidence with romance and no experience is a 100% big daddy top you’re just wrong I’m not sorry. Mind you, he can top and he often does, but being rough and demanding and forceful is not something he’s good at he’s so nervous about injuring his partner, even if they tell him it’s fine.

Germany is into all the rough play, like it’s canon. He loves to tie and be tied up and he likes when power is taken away from him. He likes when people push him under their thumb it’s why Canada gets to be rough with him. But at the same time, Germany is the most wholesome lover out of the three. Because it can be so hard to coax him out of his shell with his kinks, he can often be the inverse. Very gentle, very praising. Absolutely loves to body worship his partners. He’s not really all that good or comfortable with giving people blow jobs, however he loves kisses and touches all over. Mind you getting a blowjob is something he really enjoys, hes just not good at giving. Good thing that both his boyfriends are amazing at it. Favorite thing the two do is Canada having Germany Ride him and then Matteo either riding him on top or giving him head during.

Romano oh, Romano. He’s a bottom. The most bottom-y bottom. An absolute pillow princess and a brat wanting to be tamed. He tops very very rarely, and out of the three has the most experience both giving and receiving and with all different partners. Even if he’s bottoming doesn’t mean he’s always at the whim of his partners though, he loves riding.

Romano is the least kinky out of the three, while the other two enjoy being tied up, Romano isn’t really a fan, he doesn’t mind collars or handcuffs but full shibari like what Canada or Germany would be fine with doesn't really fly for him. As I said before, he’s also the loudest, and gets very whiny when left to hang (not like either of them mind the noise). Romano loves giving and receiving blow jobs/hand jobs. Especially giving. It’s how he gets the good vibes of watching his partner squirm in the good way. He also loves to leave nibbles scratches bites and hickies if he’s allowed to. Catch him giving Germany a bite right above his collar before a meeting. Despite what might be expected, he can roll with degradation in bed really well but he falls apart quick with praise. He likes both but he will tear up when Germany gets overly gushy and feelsy. Loves double penetration and being spit-roasted.

#gercanmano #hws #hws germany #hws romano #hws canada #ns//fw discussion

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dropsofletters · 4 years

Text

split-ends and break-ups

title: split-ends and break-ups pairing: park chanyeol/reader genre: band!au/ex-boyfriend!au/enemies to lovers!au summary: when participating in a battle of the bands to earn a position in some discography, she realizes that one of the contestants is none other than her ex. musically and physically blessed, as well as extremely sweet chanyeol is there to compete, though it falls upon his shoulders to let his competitive blood destroy his past love’s chance at success…or he could simply remember all that happened before their fall out. type: fluff/angst/romance word count: 9,688

No plethora of convincing quotes, astonishing inspirational speeches and phrases along the lines of ‘it will be alright’ could make her believe in hope. Such a harsh mindset is the necklace that hangs around her neck, digging into her skin uncomfortably, glowing in the dark when she sees the flickering lights of her apartment casting its power down on to the living room. Somewhere, her bandmate must be sleeping, specifically the guitarist, but instead of seeking for her flat pillow and her rusty bedsheets, she opts to stay up late once again, pen moving against her old notebook, writing down lyrics while her bass peacefully rests on her lap.

Not that it is any closer to sounding in its heavy tune, considering that her brain is completely dried from inspiration, wondering why musicians must suffer in order to be big. The best bands did it—she has tried to convince herself for the past two years in which they are played small gigs in local bars—, but they are truly getting nowhere. Once her apartment was only shared with herself and now, looking to save some more money to record a few songs, she had to share it with her deep sleeper of a guitarist. Somewhere in between reaching her dreams, she has lost herself. Refrigerator void of food. Soul void of happiness. Mind void of ideas.

It’s a cycle as of now.

Everything burns. The ache of her legs, seated atop a couch that can only pain her so much, cheap to its core. Her heart, it burns, simply because she doesn’t know what to do anymore—if being a secretary is even an option now that a bassist didn’t work, if people were right when they said that she should have simply stuck to something simpler. Her fingers push her bass down, trying to find a rhyme that isn’t ‘love’, for she is tired to writing songs about loving for one night and forgetting in the other. Tired is what she is, of everything and anything, of wishing for stardom but not even being able to look up at the stars in her own goddamned apartment, too tiny and closed to even have proper, wide windows.

Brand new is not her bass when she comes up with a brief hook, one that does not make her happy, the corners of her mouth turning down when anger finally lifts her off the couch. Her legs creak under her weight, putting her bass down and placing her hands on each side of her temples, fingers caressing over the skin around her parietal bones. Everything seems to be falling down for her, flashing back to the times in which people had told her that she was good—but not outstanding enough to be a musician, a well-known at that.

It’s too hard to forget when all she has ever dreamed of is to be on a stage and play the bass.

Three in the morning and the moonlight is testing her when she turns off the lights and can’t even reach for her keys, wanting nothing more to get out and look for some snacks to have in that twenty-four-hour convenience store a few blocks away. Scared, she is not, as if the world and all the bad in it paralyzed because of her disdain. Her steps are quickened, bag tossed over her shoulder and crossing her waist, a t-shirt falling halfway on her thighs, her leggings with a few holes here and there—clear notification that she was probably wearing her pajamas. Trying is not in her vocabulary anymore.

Not when the moon looks just as hopeless as she is, the wind barely blowing in such a damned place. The butts of cigarettes rest on the streets, the music is far too distant to even be pleasurable, broken glass shatters under the weight of anyone’s shoes, the drinking habits of the city toxic in its vast meaning. A deep sigh is enough to make her feel like this city doesn’t even hold oxygen anymore, simply living off monoxide. Some people are sleeping on the streets, highlight of the poverty that no one does anything to fight for, and she closes her eyes while quickening her steps.

Musicians are never fully happy, someone once told her, or maybe she read it in a magazine. What a curse that comes with the most beautiful of unions—through tunes and melodies, comes saddening memories of never reaching the dream she wished for.

On behalf of destiny, something stops her, a rock on the way that almost has her tripping over her own feet. Flip-flops are definitely not a good idea to go out in, but it is enough of a distraction to have her rolling her eyes. Leaning her hand against the brick wall by her side, she takes the rock out of her shoes, looking to the side simply to catch a glimpse of the harsh surface, covered by something that she can’t quite describe. A pamphlet, she realizes soon after, folding it in between her hands to bring it closer to her face.

A few guitars, the typical, half-assed job graphic designers do in most occasions when describing music. What catches her attention is the price of this competition, a battle of the bands with the chance of signing with a discography and some money with a few zeroes added to it. It’s enticing, glorious, enough of a push and put in such a place for her to save the pamphlet inside her pocket.

In the future, this will only be a flashback for her memoir, when everything was difficult before that battle of the bands turns her and her band into stars.

Or she sure hopes her future reads out that way.

🥁

“Maybe, we should get a band tattoo in commemoration of this moment.”

Slipping the yellow straw in between her lips to take a sip of her smoothie, she lifts her eyebrows at one of her bandmates, the vocalist to be exact. “I don’t believe your choices in tattoos, Hee Young.” She adds, looking at Hee Young as she picks from the variety of noodles in the gas station little convenience store. Maybe, this is part of the rock lifestyle, simply living off whatever snack is easier to pop in some boiling water or in the microwave. Not caring is the new black, some may say if you ask them. “Someone with a butterfly tattoo with the name of her ex on her left ass-cheek is definitely not a person to be trusted.”

Hee Young lifts her gaze, puffy and frizzy hair short and resting under her earlobes, pierced from top to bottom. Her voice is sweet compared to how tough she looks, tall and long, unapproachable at its finest. “Says the bassist with the bright yellow pants. Learn how to dress and then we can talk aesthetics.”

The only male in the group, and the drummer, pops his head from behind a rack of sunglasses, sporting ones with hearts on them. Andrew’s softened heart is too big to even be in a group with three of the most complicated, least understanding women in the world. The youngest simply wants to have fun, he says, loving the process of learning more than the success lifestyle. “Don’t cause a fuss.” He says, embarrassment coating his words. “You two are always fighting.”

“She’s the Paul to my John, let us be.” She argues, taking another sip of her smoothie before nodding her head towards the bathrooms outside the shop. “Should I go check up on Seong Im? She hasn’t gotten out in a while.”

“That’s why our diet should not only consist of noodles and salty, greasy snacks.” The youngest and yet wisest Andrew indicates, pulling the pink sunglasses down his slim nose. “It causes diarrhea.”

“Gross.” Hee Young whispers, putting the noodle packs back down on their spots. “What would you buy for a normal dinner? I think we deserve it after getting accepted in the battle of the bands.”

Andrew bites down on his bottom lip, quirking the corner of them up soon after. “…Salad sounds healthy.”

“I doubt we’re going to find vegetables in some gas station, Drew.” She argues, only to earn a shrug from Andrew.

“It may be about time for us to stop buying stuff in the gas station, then.”

“We have one hour of being a casted band in some contest and we’re already speaking as we can afford that.” Her voice is uneven when a smile appears on her face, patting her hand against Andrew’s shoulder. “But if it makes you happy, buy whatever. I’ll go look for Seong Im and wait in the car.”

What she hears in the background is the sound of Hee Young trying to convince Andrew of getting some snacks, to what he can simply deny her offers. The air fills her lungs when she opens the door, looking around the half-empty gas station at this hour of the night, some of the workers having dinner by the pavement. Her movements are slow when her fingers look in the pockets of the yellow pants that Hee Young always curses, reaching for the keys and twirling it in between her skilled bassist fingers.

Yellow is a color of happiness. The sun. Her first guitar and maybe, even the color of the dress she wore when she had her first kiss. When things were easier, definitely so, when musicians seemed cool instead of troublesome and filled with worries. The straw brings her happiness, too, her greens inserted in a drink that has her sighing at the precious coldness, the color seeping from her body now that her band got accepted after their audition. They are going to be able to compete for a contract with a discography, something that any musician is fighting and thriving for, to be treated like royalty in a world of warriors.

Her knuckles knock against the bathroom door, hearing a loud: “What?!” coming from the inside. That voice, definitely a bit obstinate, belongs to her guitarist perfectly.

“Are you okay in there?”

“Yep. Having the time of my life!”

“What happened? Indigestion?”

“…Don’t wanna talk about it.”

With a smile playing on her features, she nods her head. “I’ll be in the car when you get out.”

Near the shared car between her guitarist and herself, however, there is another car parked, a man standing beside it to fuel it. His back is turned to the workers, his profile clear to her and oh lord, does she know those features. A tall man with a nice profile, plush lips matching his slightly wide nose, big eyes innocent when he is doing most tasks, determined when playing the drums and a haze when he used to look at her. Those big hands, one resting on the windows of the car, had wrapped around her waist, rested on her thighs and explored all of her once or a hundred times of her life, in that damned car of his, with the music blasting just like it does right now, the people inside it the bandmates that she had once shared spots with.

A bassist for another band—Park Chanyeol’s band—she had once been. At the time, she was dating him, like the poor, oblivious woman that had fallen in love with him simply to break it off thanks to musical differences. Chanyeol wanted to experiment, while she wanted to continue to grow in the punk and rock spectrum of music, leaving them more separated than they had ever been. Three years later and she is in a new group, while he continues to shine in his beauty, unaware of her existence and yet, so close to her.

Something tells her that this is not the last time she is going to see him, much more when she gets closer and tries to get inside her car from the back doors, not wanting to be noticed by him, only to see a name-tag just like the one resting on top of her white tank top, reading his name and the title of the battle of the bangs competition.

No way.

No fucking way.

She was going against the band that had created her as an artist.

When Chanyeol lifts his gaze, she plops her body down in the backseat, looking up at the ceiling in hopes of not being caught by him. What she needs right now is to figure out the reason of her nervousness, why competitiveness settles inside her body in pure revenge for having him break-up with her thanks to the constant arguments about music. What he was once said was ‘great music’ could never compare to hers, she tries to argue with herself, though her mind tells her that Chanyeol’s group is fully capable of winning, too—

But no.

They are not.

Not when this is her chance of finally showing that ex-boyfriend of hers that her vision was right. Pride, oh such a damned thing, and the reason why she sits up to look at Chanyeol’s old car drive by. Pride has become her best friend just now.

🥁

When on stage, she feels like a different woman.

People are told what to do eighty percent of their lives; some understandable, some mere stigmas, some simply because of the individuals they surround themselves with. In her opinion, though, her bass gives her rules that adjust to her. She is not broke and misunderstood when on top of the stage, rehearsing in that same place in which they are going to perform just a month from them. She is not the girl-next-door turned into a nightmare when the bass pumps from her veins and her arteries to the crowd, musicians that equally appreciate and envy, all rats seeking to thrive from the same source of food. Some are behind the stage, others are resting on some of the seats, other seated in the floor but when she turns around and shares a smile with Andrew, she feels like she belongs.

Women are expected to be a million things, straight-up perfect. They are expected to be or not to be, never in between, never able to show that they are weak or if they are, they should cry for everything and anything, unable to help themselves in the eyes of the world. In her silence, people would think her troublesome personality comes from a space of clear trust issues, but that is not the case. She found other people just like her, who lifted her up when they needed to fight together. The joyful Andrew, too sweet to even be true, kicked out of his high school for bad grades back in the day and still fighting for a happy ending. The comedic Seong Im, definitely gorgeous enough to be a model and still, releasing some of the best guitar solos she has ever heard. Hee Young, the one that put them together, her middle school enemy and now, her best friend. People who had given their life out to craft music and now were fighting for a chance to be alive.

To be a band.

Her foot rests on the side of Andrew’s drum-set, smiling to him when she moves her fingers on her bass with tranquility, not missing a single tempo, the two in charge of making a song much more understood. Much to her disappointment, however, there is a point when she can’t even listen to her bass, the amplifier releasing an elongated, high, shrilling noise before her bass comes to a halt, though her movements don’t. her eyes widen, turning around and trying to turn the device on with her foot, only to see the lack of a flickering light that either shined green or red. Her eyes look for her guitarist, Seong Im losing her tempo thanks to the lack of the bass, the song falling flat when all they can hear are Seong Im’s late chords and Hee Young’s booming voice.

The crowd suddenly starts laughing, because life is a fucking sitcom and everyone needs to play along to their roles. People like them are meant to follow the stigma that is expected from them—to fail. Her fingers hook around her bass, settling it down as she rushes down the set of stairs that led down to the crowd’s spots. Thus she rushes around them, walking towards the backstage area, watching a lot of people get ready, either look-wise or in the music spectrum, though at the depths of musicians, mostly guitarists, she gets to see the big amount of cables that connected to the amplifiers and microphones, pushing a few people out of the way with her rushing, the pink beret on her head almost falling off it from the commotion.

By the cables and amplifiers, there are two men seated. One of them shorter than the other, bulkier, a cigarette falling from between his lips, the slit on his eyebrow and the rounded cheeks clearly making out the figure of the vocalist of Chanyeol’s band. Sam, the precious Sam that had been the one to put the two together, the first person to put a cigarette in between her lips, the friend that would accompany her to their first gigs, the songwriter of their group before Chanyeol and herself took the lead. Sam has always bled music, just like the past lovers do, yet he seems to be so passive about it, peaceful even.

Chanyeol and her could never do that.

By Sam’s side, however, much more obstinate and ambitious comes the magician that always captures her heart when he stares up at her, reminder of the days in which he made her feel like a goddess by pressing his lips to the spaces in her knuckles only to profess a passionate love for her, deep and profound. He would always look at her with wide eyes then, and to see him exchange that glance with her once again is nostalgia at its finest. It brings the food she had eaten earlier up her throat, the ache of her chest suddenly making her realize just how much she had changed from when she had started her path to music stardom.

Her closed-off shoes kick his knee, making him hiss when he holds it close to his chest. “So is this how we’re playing now? Are you sabotaging me?” The Chanyeol from the past would never be able to do such thing, too filled with softness inside the broadness of him to ever sabotage her. His legs lift him up from the floor simply to shake his head.

“I would never do that! I did not even know you were competing until I saw you up the stage!” Chanyeol argues, his voice a bit lifted in tone thanks to the ache in his knee, eyebrows moving with every word that escape his plush lips. A part of her, deep inside her brain, is telling her that she has got it twisted. Chanyeol is not one of those crazy men in the industry, and yet, she is here doubting him.

“You’re the only person here, though.” She argues, watching as people surround them in needs of hearing something more. “It would not surprise me. It was always about competition in between us two—”

Chanyeol releases a soft breath, reaching over to where she is simply to place a hand over her babbling mouth. “It was never like that. You were the one that saw it like that.”

Her tongue sticks out to get him off, though it works fairly soon, having his big palm running across his dark tee to get the saliva off. “Okay, so who did it? My amplifier is clearly disconnected and it was not like that before!”

Apart from being her ex-boyfriend, Chanyeol had once been her best friend. It’s shrilling to see such a tight bond of when they were younger, sharing anecdotes over bass solos and drum-kits, turn to dust now that they are older. Maybe, that is what love does—it destroys people, leaving them like a shell of what they used to be, or simply turning good memories into bitter ones. There are hundreds of songs she can’t sing anymore in fear of remembering him, the only man she has ever truly loved, the one person who has slowed down her world and turned it into beauty before they decided to shoot it down.

The sound of sweet laughter has her turning around, the warmth of Chanyeol’s body seeping through her skin when her back is turned to him. “We were just playing around with the cables. Chill.” One of the member of the duos competing adds, shrugging her tanned shoulders and crossing her arms over her chest.

“…So you were the one to do it?”

“We were trying to connect our amplifier and fucked it up. There are too many wires there, honey. I’m a bassist, not an engineer.”

Something about the woman with the orange hair, definitely bleached to utter lifelessness, speaks about the world as it is today. When people suddenly became swords instead of the battlers, wanting nothing more than to hurt those who got close to them or entered their territory. People cannot age, they cannot be better, they have to remain mediocre just like them. The world is all about surviving, but how can one survive when its entire population wants to slaughter each other? “I’m not playing games with you. You can’t do that type of shit. It’s not a game to me. My entire band looked bad because of you.”

“With a name like that, I doubt I did much work.” The woman says, her lips parting to retort to her comment, though the tall man behind her speaks before she could.

“Hey, calm down. You don’t have to talk to her like that.”

“It’s a competition. It’s what people do.”

Her fists bawl together, nails clinging to her skin when she pushes her body forward, ready to launch a punch on this woman’s face, a side of her that she had never seen suddenly growing inside her. They are fighting for a spot in a discography, only to be manufactured versions of who they really are, their friendships highlighted for the crowd to eat up like candy. That is as good as it gets, she imagines, stress taking the best of her when she nears the other bassist, only to be stopped by a pair of long and skinny arms wrapped around her, familiar to her skin when his booming voice can only whisper to her to lay off.

Not in those words, exactly, Chanyeol is intelligent enough to tell her that everything is going to be okay.

All force leaves her body, this demon that overtakes her when realizing that her dream is only a few fingers away and yet, she can’t grasp it. The sabotaging woman is angry, as it seems, placing one hand over her chest and cursing her out. Her name rolls off her tongue easily, like she knows her, the only thing this bassist is capable of seeing is her mistakes. Instead, she gives a glimpse of her back, turning round to see the long column of Chanyeol’s neck, his Adam’s apple prominent, the neck in which she used to hide her face in her toughest times and now, she feels like if she tried, she wouldn’t recognize the man in front of her.

“Hey, just ignore her. You’ll get disqualified if you fight. You’re not like this.” He tells her, as if repeating what she already knows.

She’s not like this.

But she has to for the dream.

“I will. I just—I—” Her voice is cut off when she finally catches a glimpse of her bandmates, all waiting for her. There are moments in life in which she feels lost, suddenly wondering what happened to the sweeter side of life. One of those memories come from them; those three people that see her every day, Sam and Chanyeol…all definitely a reminder of the golden woman she used to be, now desperate, clawing to the bits of dreaming that are left for her. “I’m sorry I blamed you.”

“Hey—”

Without much due, she goes over to her bandmates, welcomed in arms that wrap around her and make her feel safe. She doesn’t know the person she used to be in the past or the one that hopes in the future, but she wants to better this version of her. Of now. And she wants to do it as peacefully as possible.

On the stage, she is not her split-ends or her cheap clothing, she is not the roughness of her fingertips or the troubled financial status she is going through. On stage, she is an artist. On stage, she feels like she can breathe.

And no one can get through her path to the spotlight, that is for damn sure.

🥁

Her feet barely touch the ground, preparations for the big night of performance taking the best of her, sleep ridden body resting against a comfortable seat, trying to ease the ache on her limbs. Her fingers carefully play the bass, a little bit softer than normally, coming up with whatever is going on through her brain as she wonders if she should go back home, wrap herself in the blankets on her bed and lay her back on a grainy mattress. That, or she could stay here, being one with the empty practice room, getting used to the lights on her, finding inspiration on the beautiful notebooks they were gifted thanks to the competition and practicing a bit more with this equipment she can’t get enough of.

Over anything, she is a music freak. The type of person that sat down during her recess at school simply to read the old music books in the library, the one that had fallen in love with another musician when she really felt like dating. The type of person who would only stop her crying if she listened to music when she was younger, or the type of person that does not bleed disappointment in her lyrics or tunes, but instead focuses on showcasing the million parts of her heart that connect with a note. Be it D or E or even B, whatever she feels is painted in hues of colors.

Sometimes, the words in the paper do more than talk to her. Sometimes, they get to be alive, as well.

But she is not a singer. Damn her and her voice, she has always thought she is a bit too rough, for she doesn’t have that angelic nature that comes with a singer, that charisma that connects a person and brings them to tears. Perhaps, the sound of her bass would never be the tranquility to a person’s hearts, but the lyrics behind her own band are her own. Someone out there would learn to breathe with happiness again with her own hopefulness, coming from the depths of her still innocent soul that asks for a happy ending.

Or a happy development. A happy beginning never happened, either way.

But it will happen, it sure will.

The sound of a person’s voice in the otherwise empty practice room captured her attention, making her halter her movements as she turns her face to the side, almost poetically. The music is what bounds people for life; a dedicated song, a handwritten piece, anything can be a reminder of the most atrocious or beautiful moments of life. In this case, a deep voice fills the air with the sound of words she had written years ago—stupid, lovesick, the type of song that would have made her giggle and now has her rolling her eyes while some kind of feeling settles in her gut.

Besides all memories that she shares with Chanyeol, songwriting is one of them. It is as if they are one and the same, like someone copied and pasted their artistic soul into the same person. Though, they are not quite like soulmates, breaking up with Park Chanyeol felt like the worst moment of her life, being ripped apart in half with what they had become. Second chances never came, too bitter because of the one thing that connected them. What had once been the reason behind their ‘hey, you like that song too?!’ became the end of their relationship.

Funny, considering Chanyeol was the first one to tell her nothing would happen to the band they dated…and he kept his promise, until she decided to leave for something ‘more of her own’. His own heartbreak heightened then, telling her if their friendship and the future of their group was meaningless to her. At the time, it was, and now that she is older she wonders just how much things could have changed if only they stopped competing against each other. Or, for the matter, trying to push their own beliefs on the other when they just wanted to change.

People grow…they can’t ever stay the same, and to expect that from someone is deadly for any type of relationship. Platonic or romantic.

That song he is singing is the first song they ever composed together. The tune? A mess. The lyrics? Too full of love. The memory? Enchanting.

She swears she can see the Chanyeol in their old apartment, shared with two other people, when she enters the practice room and immediately realizes her existence. An entire week has passed and yet, she cannot keep herself by his side for more than a second. She doesn’t want him to ask how she is doing, or ponder why she is obstinate and short-tempered now. It only comes to show that she is the same person that had left the group three years ago. However, his eyes soften, half-covered by the bucket hat on his head when his lips pout out to speak to her.

“It’s midnight. What are you doing here so late?”

She plays another note in her bass, throwing her head back and looking up at the sky. “Answer that same question first.”

“I was…uh…” He clears his throat after trailing his voice. “The equipment here is good and I wanted to try out some of the instruments without getting weird looks from anyone.”

Oh, right, how not to expect such a thing from the ever-talented Park Chanyeol, guitar player, bass player and singer, also leaving some trail of him in pianos and whatever he touches. Her life, included. She looks at him, then, pondering if she should comment about the song he was just singing. “I was here practicing.” She whispers, watching as he nods his head and trots over to the stage, pushing his backpack down on the floor before reaching over for the guitar. “Why don’t you take the microphone first?”

Chanyeol’s cheeks lift up in a smile at that, that infamous dimple appearing out of nowhere. “Why? Do you want me to?”

“You’re a singer hidden behind a drum-kit.” She tells him, stopping her motions on her bass before giving him a smile of her own. “I always told you, you should have been a back-up vocalist.”

His long fingers wrap around the microphone, as if pondering, and this is the way he is. He listens to people, to criticism, curiosity is just one of his traits. “…Ah, no, I’m not fitted for that position.” He tells her, looking ahead as if a crowd was in there, only to break his gaze and turn back to her. “I was meaning to tell you earlier this week that your music is sounding a whole lot better. Your technique has improved.”

“…I have had time to practice.” She confesses, aware of how her life has only revolved around music lately. For better or for worse. “I maintain my ground by saying I will only be fully pleased when I see you as a vocalist.”

“Oh, come on, you’ve heard me sing. I’m not that special.”

Like the hug of a person that smells just like them, not like perfume, not like body-wash, not like sweat or anything of the like. They smell like skin, soft and warm, like the place you belong in. That is how Chanyeol singing feels like. He never noticed it then, how all the anxiety she could have felt for the future was healed with just the sound of his voice, singing or not. “You are special.” She admits, standing up from her spot and cracking her knuckles. The common ache of a bassist. “I mean, you’re my ex, but I’m not stupid. I know talent when I know it. I sing like a dying rat, and you were the one to help me out with songs when we composed together.”

“You remember?”

“Of course I do!” She answers, pushing her hands in the depths of her pocket. “Sometimes I think of a rhyme and I am like: “Shit, this is so good” and then I realize I used it for our songs.”

Chanyeol chuckles at that, shaking his head and his whole body, like he does when he is extremely happy. “I do that, too.”

“Do you remember our first song?”

“…It’s cringe, though.”

“I know,” She answers, aware of how she would have expected him to simply press his mouth to the microphone and sing the words out. She sits by the edge of the stage by then, jumping down before shrugging. “I just wanted to remind you.”

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“Alone?”

Reaching for her bag in one of the seats, she nods. “I have my pepper spray, my taxi number and a few punches if someone tries to try me.” Chanyeol’s lips quirk up at that, as if he is always amused by her, or perhaps he knows her enough to acknowledge that she is, indeed, one of the strongest yet softest people he knows. “Go home safe, Chanyeol.”

“You, too.” He says in the microphone, earning a laugh from her that she tries to muffle, pushing the entrance doors open before being welcomed by the elongated hallway.

The best part is when she hears Chanyeol humming to himself, the tune of their first song together clear, solid, like he has never quite forgotten it.

She is not Chanyeol’s first love, she believes, but she is surely one of his most astonishing ones.

🥁

The commotion of the city is loud in the background, but she can’t bring herself to care when the entire world rotates around the fact that there is a Rolling Stone magazine editor in the room, a journalist, the best of the best, looking for a band to interview before the grand event. Seong Im had insisted on wearing a dress for that party near the beach, the big flowers on the fabric contrasting with her dark skin, but she was against prepping herself too much for the party. Maybe, she should’ve. It could have caused more of an impression on the dress-cladded journalist that was inspecting the talents around the party, their appearances and how they seem to act in such a spot after their brief performances.

For a moment, she pretends to concentrate on the scenery outside of the wide windows, though her eyes catch a glimpse of the journalist every once in a while. The sand is almost crystal clear, the waves moving with one another, glistening under the rounded and full moon. The sky is almost black, she realizes, the same shade of her ripped jeans, something just to keep in mind. However, when she looks towards the journalist’s table, she realizes Chanyeol is nearing her, looking far more put together than she does, with a black button down that shines—perhaps, glitter is the new fashion for him—and a tight pair of pants, perfect on his legs and his calves.

Her feet pick up their speed, as fast as she tries to live through life, moving to his side before wrapping her hands around his arm. Well, it was meant to be his arm, the one with the house and the rose tattooed on it, she recalls, remembering the time she held his hand when he got them done. Nonetheless, that is what she is holding—his hand, warm, soft, delicate, like he is used to wrapping his fingertips around hers, barely slotted together and yet, imminently there. Chanyeol brings back all the memories in a simple touch, like she forgot how safe she felt when they walked together, hand in hand, instead of walking alone in separate ways. The tattoos on his knuckles match well with her skin, with the bracelet around her wrist that he may have given her in the past and when she looks at him, she can only babble an apology.

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Why are we holding hands?” Chanyeol asks, quirking his eyebrow up at their slotted hands, but the brief smile on his face speaks otherwise.

“I need you not to talk to the Rolling Stone journalist.” She tells him, placing her hands behind her back and she may as well tie them behind her back because there is no way in hell that by rushing to Chanyeol, she had held his hand. Some fish just don’t swim too far from the ocean. “…I have rehearsed my interview with her for the past week and I am about to approach her. I need to get that article. Please, just don’t.”

Chanyeol crosses his arms over his chest then, like he is trapping all his feelings in his chest. “I also want to be interviewed, silly.” He tells her, soon after rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. Don’t look at his forearms, she tells herself, but she partially wonders if their couple tattoo is still written in his skin. An emptied, outlined heart in half, the one that unites with her left arm, while his is on his right arm. It’s still there, like it is too hard to forget the mess they had made. “It’s the Rolling Stone magazine. Anyone wants to be there in an article.”

“…You already have a bit of fame around the city. I don’t.”

“What’s a little bit more of fame?”

Pushing her lips upwards, she tries to cover the half of her tattooed heart on her arm. Had he noticed? “You start to sound like me.” She tells him, aware of how star-struck and thirsty for fame she can be. “You never did it for the fame.”

“I could’ve changed.” He prompts.

“I hope you didn’t.”

“Why?” Chanyeol questions and she tries not to think about the amount of times she held on to him, and suddenly wrapping her arms around him and talk about their lives sounds like the best idea. She hasn’t realized that not a single person has ever made her feel like Chanyeol, not pre-him, not past-him. Everything would have been better for them if only music had not gotten in the way and now, music is what unites them again.

It’s easier to lie, but there she is, being truthful because Chanyeol’s eyes are enough to capture her. Brown, lord, so brown that she feels lost in the forest that is him. His skin glistens, his youth radiates even through aging, like he will always be Chanyeol, but not hers. “Because you are what the music industry needs.” She reassures. “Hookers, alcohol and drugs are overrated, they are an aesthetic. Music shouldn’t be about the visual; it should be a lifestyle.”

“That’s the type of visual you liked, though.” He tells her, pointy in his words like he is trying to prove that she was half of the reason why they broke up. The rest is his fault, as well. “You wanted the rock lifestyle. Why can’t I have it now?”

“Is this your way of telling me you like hookers?” She tries not to get him too close, changing the subject while staring at him and Chanyeol’s smile quirks up, embarrassed in the way his cheeks tint.

“Why? Do you care?”

“I do.”

But he doesn’t let go. “Why?”

“Because you aren’t like what you’re trying to make yourself to be,” She tells him. “You are one of the few hopes I have in society, actually.”

Chanyeol smiles at that, half hiding into himself but he is unable to. Too tall, too elongated, misguided body-wise, like he holds this skeleton simply to protect his softened heart. Maybe, making a mistake with her had made him a better man. She likes to believe so. “All props to hookers, don’t get me wrong, but I got out of a romantic situation not too long ago and I realized I’m more of that type of person. I’m tired of casual dating and hook-ups.”

So, he had dated. It’s expected; handsome and charming. She shouldn’t be mad, but she would be lying if she said there isn’t a ghost of jealousy inside her. “I see,”

“What about you?”

“I have never been with a hooker, if that’s what you’re asking.” She answers, bringing a laugh out of him.

“I’m asking if you have dated after…” His words trail after that, trying to find his place to ask that question. Their mistake, as she likes to call it. “After us.”

Say you did. Say you did. Lie to him and say you did. “I went out on dates, but…nothing serious.”

“I imagined you would have gotten someone by now.”

“I don’t need anyone, let’s start there.”

“Oh, I know.” Chanyeol tells her, looking down at his hands before chuckling. “Rather, I think people would need you.”

She scoffs at that. “I’m a mess,” She admits, because this is Chanyeol she is talking to. His hands could never hurt her heart, at least not intentionally. “I doubt I’d be any help for someone.”

“You helped me.”

“With what?” She asks, aware that Chanyeol had helped her grow more than he realized, before and after their relationship.

“Finding my place in music. You leaving the group had me devastated, but it gave me direction.” And that is the beauty of Chanyeol, how he stands up and dusts himself off as he travels endlessly. Maybe, that is why he helped her so much, just like she helped him. He showed her that one bad song isn’t a bad album; a painful memory isn’t a lifetime worth of sadness. Some people have to move on, for their sake, for their happiness, to find the light and the will in the world.

“Chanyeol—”

The man looks to the side, as if ashamed, pointing at the direction of the journalist as he sighs. “Someone took our spot already.”

Another band is seated with the journalist, as if they belong there, as if they are the new legendary small group. Somehow, she doesn’t care. “I don’t care.” She says. “Fame isn’t for me anyways.”

“You think so?”

“It drained away my light in my hunt for it. I can only imagine what it will do if I reach it.” She answers, licking the inside of her cheek before humming. “Have you eaten?”

“I was thinking of ordering something just now,” He replies. “Want to join me?”

“Sure, we can catch up.”

His eyes, brown and deep, a forest that starts to clear, light up at that. “I would love that.”

🥁

With a lollipop placed inside her mouth, Seong Im is seated on the hood of their old car, in front of the venue in which they are going to play in. The night is packed, only a small group of people—friends and relatives alike—gathering to see the stars. Well, as rock-star as it can get to battle for a position in a discography. Instead, her band is much too occupied in talking about the other individuals in the competition. “I don’t know. He’s nice and all, but Chanyeol looks like the type of dude who fucks in front of a mirror just because he thinks he’s hot. He probably flexes, too.”

She presses her lips together, looking inside her box of guitar picks before sighing. “He isn’t.”

And she should have shut her mouth entirely and sincerely, simply because there is a moment of dull silence before she realizes that she has just confirmed that she has a way of knowing. She doesn’t look up, however, pretending to be torn in deciding between two picks before Seong Im kicks her side softly. “Hey, how would you know that?”

Hee Young is the next one to speak, braiding her hair and interrupting her voice warm-ups to reiterate. “She definitely knows. They dated for like two years.”

Two years and eight months, to be exact. Not that long now that she thinks about it, it could have gone for longer if only they had put themselves first, even before music. The reminder is definitely not soothing and now that she gets to hear Seong Im gasp with one arm wrapped around Andrew’s uninterested persona, she speaks up. “Why didn’t you tell us that? We thought you hated him!”

“I don’t,” She announces, shrugging her shoulders soon after at the memory of the nights in which pressing her forehead to his was the only moment in which her headaches would stop. That being poor with him was what had pushed her to want to be rich and successful. That diamond rings only seemed to shine bright if he was there. “I could never hate him.” She has tried to, and for a while when they were dating she thought she hated him, but the fire from his soul would always be eased by the rain of her. There would never be anything more comforting than knowing she really tried with him.

“…So…that’s the band you were in before.” Seong Im finishes, blinking rapidly before resting her palm against her forehead. “Why did you leave?”

“We didn’t break up in good terms, I guess.”

“And why don’t you hate him? You should, if you ended up badly.” Her roommate continues, making her roll her eyes and close the lid of her woodened box.

“Because I was different back then. I let everything take the best of me, we fought too much…” She replies, wondering if things would have been different had she not being so closed up in her taste of music and had Chanyeol been more connected to his roots, not as experimental as he wanted to be. One too risky, the other too safe. “But it happened because it had to happen. I am here with you guys because of it.”

Hee Young chuckles. “You were heartbroken for a few months; dare I say a year.”

“Well, music put me back on track.”

“And music made you lost the love of your life.” Hee Young retorts, earning a sigh from her.

“I’d lose that and much more to music. I’m sure he thinks the same.”

Seong Im pushes her weight off the car, taking her by the arm and looking around the street before pushing her towards the car nearby, coated in layers of water and soap, all indicator of someone washing it. The car is not as old as hers, but she has definitely seen it before—and has been in it, as well—, and just when she looks in front of her after watching the smile on Seong Im’s face, she realizes who is washing this car.

It is a good look, too.

His sweater is wrapped around his waist, leaving him in a tank top even through the cold night. He must be freezing, too, with his hands rubbing furiously at the window. Chanyeol seems to be having a hard time, a pool of water by his feet settling him down. His eyes turn back at the sound of heavy steps and a squeal, both coming from her, and when he notices her, his frown seems to erase slightly. He calls out her name in such a way that seems like a song, enough to take the oxygen away from her lungs and she realizes then that music has really taken her life away. This man could have easily been by her side, she could be wrapped in his arms in this cold night, but they are too far away from each other, exes at their finest.

He is still kneeling, trying to get that spot in the window when she speaks up. “Did a bird poop on your car?”

“You’re saying it as if it didn’t happen,” Chanyeol comments, bringing laughter up in her when she kneels by his side, taking the other cloth bathed in soap to help him clean whatever content is on the window. “I had to go get some water inside and clean it. Just how embarrassing would it be if the journalists here saw my car with some bird shit on it.”

“It’s iconic.”

“It isn’t.” Chanyeol argues, his body shivering, the goosebumps over his arms noticeable. It is then that she realizes she is staring at his profile, his recently dyed red hair a reminder of that conversation they had after practice one of these days, in which he asked her for tips on how he could dye his hair on his own. It looked good, actually. She pushes her body closer to his, in a position in which their arms are placed together, earning a gasp from him. “…You…”

She looks down at their arms, realizing that the heart had formed, making her hiss softly. “Yeah…”

“You didn’t get it covered.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Why?”

“Do you really want to know?” She questions, watching as Chanyeol places one hand on the side of his face, his elbow resting against his strong knee, staring at her as if he can’t believe it and with amusement he chuckles. He really can’t, as it seems.

“I didn’t cover it because I love you too much. You were my best friend before we dated, I can’t simply erase you like that.” He whispers, like he doesn’t even want the wind to know. The rivers inside her become troublesome, reminder of how she had always tried to push him out of her body, saying that they would have never worked out and that he was the one at fault for never understanding her. The toxicity of them came when they decided to work together…or when they became obsessed with growing. “Truth is that I didn’t expect you to keep it on.”

So, this is why she fell in love with him, because he is sentimental above anything else. Chanyeol had once told her he loved her, a thousand times at that, but the first one is special. Seated by a window, looking out at the snow, he said the warmest thing there could ever exist. He spoke about his demons, the insecurities that ate at him, how he tried to move on too fast…to be faster than life itself, and how that kept biting at him. What dresses him in toughness is unable to keep him from her, show the real colors of the man she has loved. Continues to love in the depths of her heart, too. “…It’s part of me by now.” She tells him. “If I covered it, I was afraid I would lose me.”

“You wouldn’t,” He tells her. “Because you’re not my half. You are more than that.”

“…I know.” She replies. “I wish I had known that sooner.”

Her knees are about to give in, just in time for Chanyeol to stand up and take a dry cloth, rubbing at the windows with ease. “I guess it happens to the best of us.”

“Being friends, dating, breaking up and one of them leaving the group because they couldn’t even stand the other?” She asks, making a smile appear on his face. “That’s not very common.”

“But it’s our story.”

“So?”

“That makes it better.”

The sound of her band name being called makes her turn around, albeit hesitantly, because she doesn’t want this moment to end. She is being called to get ready, earning a sigh from her when she stares back at Chanyeol, only to see him stare at her like he wants to learn her. Study her. He needs to keep her in his memories for when he is old and he is bound to forget. “I have to go now.” She says, walking backwards just in time to see him lift a thumb up.

“Good luck in there.”

But the toughest of lucks was losing a man like him.

🥁

The skies above mock her, shining with city lights and clouds and stars, all too bright for her, a reminder that success is not knocking at her door. The thick yellow jacket on top of her white hoodie is supposed to make her feel more at ease, even remotely happy, but giving her best on stage only to come up on third place was definitely a low blow for them. Andrew took it the best, celebrating getting such a spot, but the women in the group were devastated. The victory goes to Chanyeol’s band, she tries to process, happy yet a bit puzzled.

What would her group do now?

Sam had taught her how to smoke and she doesn’t do it at all, but right now it sounds like a great idea, going for a drive and stopping at the usual gas station simply to pick up some snacks. Much to her delight, however, the same man that she has been watching for the past month, talking and reconnecting like they will earn something from it, is fueling his car just at that moment. Just like her, he is wrapped in cozy clothing, the tips of his ears red, bringing a smile to her face when she pushes the box of cigarettes to the depth of her coat. Now, she doesn’t need them.

“What’s up winner?” She asks him, making him widen his eyes and press a hand to his chest. Chanyeol turns around to look at her, smiling at the sight of her, though a bit nostalgic.

“Doing great.”

“I’m glad.”

“What are you doing here?” He is the first to ask, leaning his body against his car. His arms are crossed over his chest and she still feels giddy at the reminder that under those clothing, a tattoo keeps them connected.

“I’m going to grab some snacks, you know.” She tells him, clicking her tongue soon after and nodding, as if nothing is wrong. Actually, she is healthy and she got some recognition from her hard work. Her band may not be fine, but the future may be brighter, with less debt and more fame.

“Good,” He says. “Actually, I was planning on asking you something.”

She nears him, copying his position against his car. “What would that be?”

His lips part majestically, though a bit confused in their approach. “Sam and I were talking, along with our groupmates, and we figured we could have two bassists. You could join us before we sign our contract with the new discography.”

Chanyeol may be her past and god, he was one hell of a good past, the ignition of her dream of music…but her friends were there for her when they had broken up, she created a new world and discovered that her story with Chanyeol was mistaken when they added another lover to their sheets and their hearts. Music. “I’m going to say no.” She denies. “I am happy with my guys. Nothing against you…or your band, but I am not betraying my own.”

“I expected you to say that.” The wind blows near them, moving the strands of his red hair, his cheeks getting touched by the gentlest of pink touches. Chanyeol rarely blushes but the wind serves to caress his tan skin. “You were always too loyal.”

“That’s a good thing. We dated, after all.”

“We did.” Chanyeol comments, hearing the sound of his car getting completely fueled before paying attention to the task at hand. “I wanted to ask you something else—”

“What would that be?” She quirks one eyebrow, aware of how Chanyeol’s deep voice is doing its best to look for her joints and her bones, drag her back into the beauty of him.

“Since we won’t be able to see each other almost every day from now on, I thought I could take you out on a date.” For old time’s sakes, and to mend what was once broken. Like split-ends, their split will never end, for they will always come back together. “…Not that you have to say yes.”

On the tip of her toes, she reaches forward to shorten the distance between the two, her lips touching his in one of those brief ‘good morning’ kisses she gave him when they just woke up. At the time, Chanyeol was not much of a morning person, but he must have lit up this entire night with the taste of coffee-brewed kisses. She smiles, showing a big part of her teeth when she says: “Did you really think I was going to say no?”

Caught red handed, Chanyeol wraps his arms around her waist, leaving his mouth slightly ajar to kiss her softly, like he wants to serve every night they spent alone in just one try, bring warmth to every corner of their souls. He wants the ‘us’ they crafted back, the one before music could get in between them. “No.” He whispers. “I missed you so much.”

For the first time in over three years, she can wrap her arms around his shoulders, rest her cold nose against his neck and breathe in his scent when she promises herself they can get through this, they can love each other again, not like they ever did, with one heart palpitating to connect them, creating music that they could only share with each other.

“Not more than how much I missed you.”

#chanyeol scenarios #chanyeol #exo scenarios #exo #kpop scenarios #writing #exo au #exo fluff #exo angst #chanyeol au #chanyeol fluff #chanyeol angst #drummer!chanyeol #tell me what you guys think please!

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anakinthetrashking · 4 years

Text

How’s the Heart?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26871853/chapters/65565265

Somehow I made it and it is FINISHED!!!! This is my fic that I wrote for @batfam-big-bang !!!!

The biggest of shoutouts and THANK YOUUUUS to my incredible betas: Ace, Skye, and Em!!! @toomanyfandoms21, @timmydrakewings, and @geekinthecorner !!!! I’ve never actually had a beta before, but for this i had 3??? You guys were so kind and patient with me and my last minute tendencies. Thank you for all your suggestions and edits!!! [heart eyes]

and then!! ARTISTS!! you guys really put your heart and soul into the pieces you made and i just,,,, want to cry,,,,THAMKKKKK YOUUU!!!! keep being awesome! im love u: Butter, Dean and Lucy!!!!!! @heybabybird, @greenbean-riverdean, and @houser-of-stories !!!!!

Its a Tim-centric 3+1 Three times Tim is helped or comforted by his family, and one time where he's doing pretty alright. (TW: Depression, Anxiety, Suicidal thoughts, etc! full tags on ao3)

1) Here I am to Share the Fear (Tim & Damian & Dick) Bruce is back and everything seems to be going well- so of course old fears pop up again. Damian notices his absence and tries is best in his own way to offer some comfort.

2) Fly Towards the Calm (Tim & Steph & Cass) Steph notices that Tim's failing at basic self care again, so she declares Movie Night. She and Cass try to remind Tim that he needs to take the time to care for himself and not just continue pouring himself out on behalf of others.

3) Night Will Come But Not to Stay (Tim & Bruce) Turns out catching the Clench and loosing his spleen have more lasting effects than they thought. Tim tries to ignore and push past his new found limitations, Bruce notices that something is off and is there for the inevitable breakdown.

+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale (Tim & Alfred) A rare event of relaxation, the Waynes have a picnic at the manor. Alfred worries about his family, but for now, it seems like everything is alright.

Read it under the read more or on AO3 !

Here I Am To Share The Fear

Too much. Everything was too much.

Bruce was finally back, and Tim was glad that everyone was so happy - despite them all being wrong.

Wrong.

WRONG.

He shook his head and put a light smile on his face, trying to focus on the conversation in front of him, but Dick was so loud. And there were far too many people in the mansion - in the same room - Tim swallowed and grit his teeth against the feeling of his organs crawling up his throat.

There were eleven people in the room.

Ten roses in the flowered centerpiece on the buffet table.

Nine cups scattered about the room.

Eight candle flame shaped light bulbs in the chandelier.

Seven white socks (why was Dick only wearing one?)

Six voices in variating clarity.

Five… Five? Five fingers on each hand.

Four windows, none open.

Three lamps, all unlit.

Two doors.

One exit. Viable exit, at least.

Zero people looking at him. Perfect.

It was time for him to go, so he took his exit as quietly as possible, noticing the volume of the crowd drop as he walked out. No one stopped him. No one seemed to notice. Or maybe they just didn’t care. Good. That- that was something he could deal with.

As he fled to his room, he couldn’t help but notice how alive the manor was. So many lights were on, even in empty rooms. Little things littered the place as if people actually lived here. A book on the table here, ready to be picked up and read from where they left off. A suitcase full of clothes there, waiting to be unpacked. Doors open instead of closed and locked. Bed covers turned down, ready to welcome them home.

Tim reached his door and saw the life that had flooded there as well. Posters, pictures of family and friends covered large portions of his walls. Little trinkets given to him were lovingly placed around his desk. It was more than he could take, so he ran. He ran and ran through hallways and past open doors until the warmth of the occupied portion of the Manor turned to the chilly halls of the guest wing. Back in the furthest unused room is where he finally stopped, willing his heart rate to slow down.

The room looked like something out of a book, everything covered with sheets and layered with undisturbed dust, no signs of life. The evening light cast the room in cool tones of blues and greys, shadows soft and hazy. The attached bathroom was much the same, cold tiles sucking the heat from his feet.

Sitting down, he hugged his knees to his chest, letting the lines of the sink cabinet dig into his back. Tim stared for a while, trying not to think, and letting the clock tick a rhythm into his head.

The clock sounded so loud, and his breath seemed even louder. Nothing felt ok. Exhaustion pushed at the edges of his vision while panic seemed to well up inside of him and claw into his throat. Everything felt like it was closing in on him so he pushed back, laying on the floor and stretching his arms and legs as far as they could go. The cold seeped into him and he vaguely wondered if that’s what it felt like to die. To let your warmth bleed out into the universe. Death… was a calming thought. As humourless as that was, it forced a short laugh out of his throat.

Death would be preferable, he thought, to whatever feeling this is.

Bruce had been back for a month, and for a little while the triumph of bringing him home had been, well, satisfying. Relieving. Exhilarating.

But now, somehow, he was left feeling empty. Hollow. Carved out. His skin was pulled taut over his bones and there was nothing inside. Each day was an empty victory. A consolation prize. An uphill battle against an unseen enemy.

Eating, drinking, getting dressed, sleeping, showering, all done out of the necessity of existence. But most of the time he didn’t feel like he existed at all. Just a doll or a robot - there, but not really. Tossed aside until needed again. Some sort of empty, semi-existent thing. It felt too much like being five again and waiting by the phone for that occasional Sunday call from his parents.

A single tear slipped out, unbidden. It left a quickly cooling trail in its wake.

Everything is so stupid. Tim thought, frustrated by his own stagnancy, willing himself to just do something, instead of just lying there considering the logistics of several stupidly lethal ideas. He was working on kicking out the thoughts when he was distracted by the sound of light, purposeful footsteps. Damian. With footsteps like that it meant he was trying to be considerate. Creepy.

“What do you want?” Tim sighed.

“Drake.” Tim could feel rather than see the curt nod Damian gave him. “Pennyworth brought out those blueberry scones you seem to favor. However, you were not present. So I…” His self-assured tone faltered.

Tim turned to look at him for the first time. “You came looking for me?”

“I would hardly call it looking. You frequent a few spots and the conclusion was obvious by the number of people that are currently within the Manor.” Damian sat cross legged on the floor, pushing a scone into Tim’s hands.

“But why would you…?” Tim sat up, arching an eyebrow.

“It is only natural to know your enemy, Drake. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.” Damian sniffed and waited for Tim to take a bite. Then he continued. “Then you will best know how to poison them.” A (dare Tim say it) friendly smirk showed itself on Damian’s face.

Tim snorted, and for once they seemed to have gained a sort of mutual understanding.

They lapsed into silence again. Damian shifted, obviously wanting to say something but didn’t know how. The expression on his face looked so scrunched that Tim almost wanted to laugh.

Instead he asked, “Is it still unbearably loud out there?”

Damian clicked his tongue. “With Grayson in the room? Obviously.”

Somehow Damian seemed even more frustrated. There was a good chance that any moment now he would jump up and leave, but not before throwing out an insult to cover his wounded pride at having to retreat. In his own way, he was trying to offer an olive branch, and as tired as Tim was, something in him couldn’t let that opportunity pass. He could almost hear Dick’s voice in his head, telling him that if he would just talk with Damian, have a conversation, maybe they could find common ground.

For once, he could see the clumsy effort that the brat was making, and he knew deep down, more than anything they both yearned for warmth. Not the sort of warmth that contrasted the grounding feeling of the cold tile beneath him, but the warmth of human connection. The numbness that had been growing in him twisted at that thought and he decided to take a chance.

“It’s nice to have everyone around, but…” he glanced over to try to gauge a reaction, “I can’t seem to settle into it.”

A sort of recognition, reflection, sparked in Damian’s eyes at that, and some of the tension began to leave his body. Tim continued.

“I guess it’s just that there’s always been something. If I do well enough in school, maybe my parents will take an interest in me. If I become a better Robin, maybe Batman will go back to normal. If I bring Bruce back, maybe we can all be happy again… But it never works. It’s never enough, and now- now there’s just… nothing.”

A few moments passed, and Damian’s own internal battle ended as he found the words to reach out in return.

“I, too… Mother’s time was very limited. I trained and studied hard for any extra moment of time or nod of approval she could give… and after Father denied me, it was much the same, trying to rework standards and limits for his approval. Not having something specific to work towards does indeed seem… disconcerting.” Tim searched his face and found sincerity there, though his eyes seemed to be distant as he turned away.

Damian once again found himself at a loss for words, so he thought about what Grayson would do in such a situation. A hug was… out of the question, but- he lay his hand in-between the two of them, palm open. This, he supposed, he could do. Tim took it, surprising them both. Damian’s hand felt almost unbearably warm after the cold of the tile floor.

They sat again, together, in silence. It was more companionable, though still awkward and stilted in ways neither knew how to fix.

“There’s nothing more I can do for this family. There’s nothing I can think of.” The silence stretched before them, and Tim hesitated to put his fear into words.

Finally, he whispered, “ There’s no excuse for me to stay now.”

Damian’s face whipped around to face him. “As usual, you are wrong, Drake.” He scoffed, “Don’t you know you can’t choose who your family is?” pausing, he let go of Tim’s hand and stood up, turning to leave. “You’re stuck with us whether you like it or not.”

Quick but light footsteps sounded out in the hallway.

“Grayson!” Damian called, “Come fix Drake before Father requires his assistance again!” Nodding to Tim he left without another word.

Dick then came skidding around the corner into the bathroom, one socked foot sliding out against the tile. “Tim! Are you ok? What’s wrong? Why are you here of all places?”

Overly warm hands, distant eyes, honest feelings? Tim let out a deep sigh. “You should be more worried about the little gremlin. I think he’s got a fever.”

Dick tensed as if to sprint off again, and Tim held in a sigh of disappointment, knowing that Damian would be the priority, yet again. But instead of running off, Dick simply pulled out his phone and sent off a text, settling down into the spot on the floor that had been recently vacated.

“Bruce is on it.” He glanced out the doorway as if he could still see Damian storming past. “Did he-?” The question of his behavior went unsaid but not uncommunicated.

“No, we had a completely civil conversation. One might even call it a heart-to-heart, by our standards.”

“Therefore, he must be sick?”

“Other signs, too. But yeah.”

The buzz of an incoming message confirmed it, but Dick put his phone away instead of typing out a reply.

“A heart-to-heart, eh? I always knew you guys could get along if you just tried talking.”

“Don’t you dare say I told you so,” Tim shot a glare at Dick who was failing terribly at trying to look affronted at the very thought, “but it does seem like we are a lot more alike than I realized.”

“Who would’ve known?” Dick teased.

“Never mind, just say I told you so next time.” Tim grumbled. “Anyway, it seemed like he was really trying, and that he wanted to help in some way. I guess I just couldn’t ignore that.”

“Yeah.” Dick had his proud big brother face on. “I'm glad you guys are finally getting along. What did you talk about?”

“Oh, you know, feeling worthless without having something to focus on, questioning our places in people's lives, the usual. “

“That does seem to be a common theme in our family.”

“He called me family,” Tim murmured. “Or, well, he implied it. But for him, that’s basically saying it.”

“Tim, that’s…” Even Dick looked astounded.

“Unbelievable?”

“No, not unbelievable.” He chided. “But definitely surprising.”

“That’s one way to get me out of a bad mood, I guess. I was so surprised that it jarred me right out of my own downwards spiral.” Tim closed his eyes and took another deep breath. “Most everything still sucks, but that’s a bright spot, at least. My therapist keeps telling me to look for those. I guess I have another one to add to the list.” He turned his head to share a small smile before standing up to stretch. “That and Alfred’s blueberry scones. I sure hope there’s some left.”

Dick matched his smile with a blinding one of his own and reached over to ruffle Tim’s hair.

“You know, if you ever need to talk-“

“I know.” Tim bumped his shoulder into Dick’s. “Thanks, Dick.”

Fly Towards The Calm

“Think fast!” Stephanie’s entrance was about as subtle as a stampede. She must have been hanging out with Jason lately. As the door behind her swung closed, she tossed a tightly, carefully wrapped package at his face. He caught it with one hand as he finished reading the last paragraph of the proposal he was looking over.

“Evidently I’m the Wayne family errand boy now,” she whined as she jumped up to sit on his desk. “I drove the brat home from school and got enlisted by Alfred to deliver food to your sorry butt.”

“You could have said no.” he muttered. Peeling back the folded wax paper revealed a tuna fish sandwich, exactly how he liked it, though a bit squished from being thrown across a room.

“Refused? Alfred? Are you joking?” she asked, over dramatically taken aback. “Besides, I was rewarded with my own delicious sandwich and not one but two cupcakes.”

“Two?” his eyebrow raised.

“Well, he only gave me one, but generously allowed me to snatch a second. I didn’t eat yours because I’m nice.” She dropped the rest of his lunch on his now closed laptop.

“Indeed, I shall never be able to repay your kindness,” he said around his own mouthful of sandwich.

“You got that right. Anyway, Cass and I are gonna have a night on the town tonight, wanna come with?”

Tim hummed in agreement.

“Great! I’ll text her. You should probably get a nap first though. Come on, you can eat on the way.” She popped the last bite in her mouth and hopped off the desk.

Gathering his things, he glanced at her in amusement. “Alfred put you up to this, too?”

She rolled her eyes. “Do you even have to ask?”

Looping her arm in his, they headed to the door. He noticed a slight hesitation in her steps and turned to find her looking at him funny. But she just shook her head and let whatever it was, be.

Until they got in the car, of course.

Glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as she sped down the road she asked, with a tone he couldn’t quite decipher , “Did you use my dry shampoo?”

His mind ground to a halt. Of all the questions he thought she’d ask, that was not one of them, and for the life of him, he couldn’t reason out why. They constantly borrowed each others’ things without issue, and for that matter, so did the rest of their mismatched clan. Maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he needed that nap after all.

It had been a minute, maybe he should answer the question.

“Got my own bottle.” He said carefully, “Seemed useful.”

“Hmm.” God, now she sounded like Bruce. How many odd habits had she picked up from them?

“Tim…” she sounded soft and hesitant, as if he were fragile. He hated when they did that. “When’s the last time you took a shower? Or ate a full meal?”

He contemplated it with a hum. “Patrol,” he said finally.

Stephanie’s hands tightened on the steering wheel for a moment. “Has it been bad lately?”

“What? …Oh.” Oh. “Not… really? It’s just been numb. Quiet. A bit like the way everything is muffled when you’re underwater.” A bit like drowning, he left unsaid.

She nodded and made a sudden U-turn. When he looked at her in askance, she shrugged. “We’ll patrol together another night. I’ll update Cass when we get to my apartment, but go ahead and text Alfred now. We’re going to have a self-care night with movies and facemasks and whatever other dumb indulgent Pinterest crap I can think of.”

Tim opened his mouth to argue but found he was too tired to care and yawned instead. “Nap first?”

“Shower first. Then nap.”

[BREAK]

He woke the moment she opened the door and turned his head to meet her gaze as she poked her head in with a grin.

“Ca-“ he broke off in a yawn, “Cass!”

With a quick glance behind her, she continued into the room, holding out a steaming mug. Tim sat up in bed, gleefully accepting it as she sat down next to him.

“Coffee,” he sighed in delight.

“Coffee.” She agreed with a solemn nod.

The silence was comforting as they sat there, leaning against each other, Tim soaking in the rare precious moments where he wasn’t rushed, or pulled this way and that. Reaching the bottom of the mug, he set it aside, wrapping his arms around his sister instead.

“You are a blessing upon humanity,” he said, “we don’t deserve you.”

She laughed and tightened the hug. The moment felt just like flying free above the streets of Gotham, and the thought of staying in for the night felt right. Cass pulled away just enough to look at him face to face, an amused twist to her lips.

“You smell like a Steph!” Squeezing him once more, she slipped away and was halfway out the door again when she turned as if she had just remembered something. “Oh!” her smile turned sly, “Decaf!”

“Hey!” He jumped out of the bed to catch up with her, but when he rounded the hall into the living room he was stopped in his tracks.

It seemed that somewhere in between dropping him off at her apartment to take a nap while she met up with Cass and “gathered necessary supplies”, and returning with said supplies, the original objective had been lost.

“It looks like you brought back half the manor’s supply of blankets and robbed a concession stand… and is that the old DVD case? I thought I got rid of that.”

“Yeah. Me and Dick saved it! Having everything digital may be convenient, but having a physical folder of DVDs just feels right!”

Tim suppressed the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose and decided to leave the debate of Digital vs. Physical for another day.

“Anyway, you’re up just in time to help us set up the blanket fort!”

An hour later found the living room unrecognizable under the piles of pillows and draped sheets. Tim and Steph stood in the kitchen sorting snacks and discussing the night’s activities.

“-and then there’s this green tea and honey one that’s really great, very soothing-“

“Steph, you don’t have to explain them all to me, you know I’ll always let you test your facial concoctions out on me,” he cut in.

“Of course I know that. I’m not rambling about them for my benefit- I’m rambling about them for yours”

A head tilt was his only reply.

“Ok, let me try to explain this in a different way.” she put down her phone to look at him. “Tonight, Cass and I are going to attempt to teach you how to take care of yourself.”

“I know-”

“Not in the way that you’ve done or that you know. Your version of taking care of yourself is to fool the cameras, the public, to fool Batman into thinking that you’re at your best.” she shoots him a look. “You’re not. You’re running on fumes and you can’t fool your family.”

“Taking care of yourself is NOT finding the lowest number of hours of sleep that you can ‘function’ on.” She makes quotes in the air with her fingers. “It is not replacing a meal with a power bar, even if the calories are the same! It’s not only taking showers when you have to leave the house, or shutting yourself in to do casework all the time!” her hands fly up in the air and she huffs.

Taking his hands in hers she looks him square in the eyes before saying more softly, “Self-care is eating full, balanced, Alfred-cooked meals as often as you can. It’s doing your laundry every week and brushing your teeth twice a day. It’s taking naps even when you would literally rather be sorting through the 5-year backup of paperwork in R&D. Or better yet, getting a full 8-10 hours of sleep regularly! It’s looking in the mirror and saying to yourself, everyday, ‘I am good enough. I am worthy of and deserve all the love me friends and family try to give me.’

And tonight! Taking care of yourself is having a spa night with Cass and I while we watch anime movies and eat copious amounts of junk food, because we all know that patrol burns an extra 2,000 calories anyway! Plus, we can look at the Affirmations board I have on Pinterest! Cass likes practicing saying them while she beats up bad guys. Says the look on their faces is priceless.”

“Funniest one, I said, ‘I aspire to be a blessing and an inspiration to others.’” Cass recites popping her head out from the mass of blankets, “Guy completely stopped! Then I punched him.”

Night Will Come But Not To Stay

“I cant- I can’t do this anymore! I won’t do this anymore!”

“Promise?”

“…What?” his tears paused for the barest moment, before overflowing again. Bruce was crouched in front of him, tear tracks staining his face.

A moment ago Bruce had been standing with his back to him, untouched by Tim’s words, or perhaps instead, disgusted?

But perhaps that conclusion was wrong. As Tim searched his face now, it looked more like he was the one in pain and exhausted beyond belief.

His lips were moving, and Tim struggled to catch up.

“What?” he repeated, softly and sniffly, a cord of self-disgust lashing out within him at the pathetic sound of it.

Not just tear tracks, it seemed. Bruce was still shedding tears as he repeated himself.

“Do you promise? That you won’t do this anymore?”

Tim’s mind felt like sludge as he tried to piece together how that request could possibly fit into the context of the last few minutes.

They had been training, not so long ago. Bruce had reached out to Tim first, this time. Offered to train together like they had in the past. Tim had jumped at the chance. He should have known better.

It had been going fine, at first. Great, even.

But his insomnia had been worse than usual this past week, and his other symptoms had been acting up, too. In response to the lack of sleep, maybe, or just the continued pattern he had observed, gradually worsening over time.

Honestly, it was probably a great big mix of things.

But he hadn’t been willing to cancel - not the first thing that he had actually been looking forward to in… too long to think about.

So, he’d shown up anyway, his body begging him to just rest.

They’d warmed up and started sparring.

Well.

It hadn’t even been fifteen minutes of sparring, and his body went from begging to outright rebellion.

He went down and couldn’t get back up.

And for some stupid reason, Bruce had decided to yell at him to get up.

So, he yelled back.

Yelled.

Screamed.

He’s not even sure what all he said, just that this last added bit of disappointment piled atop the ever-building terror of symptoms and lit the fuse that exploded within him and stole the earth from under his feet. It ripped through him and tore out his throat, multiplying as his view was constrained to the back of the man he respected most, seeming to be utterly unmoved by it all.

His obvious confusion and continued silence spurred Bruce to try to explain.

“Promise me that you’ll stop running yourself into the ground. Please.” He tilted his head to try and catch Tim’s eye. “I know you’ve been struggling, and not just lately. Alfred said you’ve seemed like you’ve been having an especially difficult time for quite a while. He said he had been meaning to bring it up to me before… and that he had tried to talk to you while I was gone, but that he couldn’t get you to stay in one place long enough to broach the subject. I know something’s going on. Tell me about it. Let me help.”

“Something’s going-? Help?” his laugh was incredulous and desperate as he dug his fingers into the mats beneath him before forcing them to relax. “No. You can’t- you can’t help me.” He scoffed. “Was this-“ he waved his hand around to try to indicate this situation that he couldn’t find words for, “this, supposed to be helpful?”

“Well,” Bruce looked a bit sheepish, “when you get stressed, I know you tend to internalize all of it. Direct it all at yourself. I thought if you had something outside yourself to direct it at instead… It had worked for-“ he cut himself off. “Well.” He said again, letting it rest a moment before continuing at a different angle. “What do you mean I can’t help you?”

“I mean, you can’t. I- I already researched it. There’s nothing- I mean, I sure had enough time. I had thought, with how tired I am, that maybe it’d help with my insomnia. You’d think so, right? But no. No. I’m still awake, but now I’m lying there, and I can’t do anything. Because I’m too tired! I’m so tired, Bruce. I thought- I thought I knew what tired was.”

“Tim, you’re not making sense. What’s going on? Why are you so tired?” he shifted to sit down and lifted his arms to give Tim a hug but stopped short, holding there, offering.

Tim fell into his arms and Bruce gathered his son as best he could.

“Turns out The Clench has permanent effects that the cure couldn’t reverse. They’re only just beginning to research it, but I’ve been tracking symptoms. Chronic fatigue and pain, nerve damage, migraines- other things they aren’t sure are connected. There isn’t a cure, and it’s gradually been getting worse. I’ve tried the suggestions though it's hardly any change: diet, exercise, rest, the basics. But it’s all just maintenance, and I can’t-“ he went limp as his eyes filled with tears again. “I can’t do the things I used to be able to. I’m barely making patrol- the rest of the day I’m in bed. I can’t do classes. I had intended- I was going to finish High School, or maybe get my GED. But I have to lay down after taking a shower. I can hardly think anymore. I have to drag myself out of bed to go to the bathroom. I used to be able to do everything, and now I can’t do anything! I can’t help you anymore! And you can’t help me.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Bruce pulled him closer to his chest and rested his cheek on his head, rocking them back and forth. “It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out.”

“No, it won’t! It’ll never be ok again! Can’t you see? I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t think! I can’t think, Dad! What use am I now?” his voice broke and Bruce felt his heart break with it.

“Tim,” he gathered Tim’s hands in his own from where they were clutching his shirt, and planted a kiss on his knuckles, smoothing over them with his thumb. “Son, listen to me. You were not born into this world to be useful.” He stopped him before he could interrupt. “I know you like being useful. I like being useful, too. But I need you to listen to me. You are more precious to me than all the stars in the sky. Nothing will change that. When I say, “We’ll figure it out”, I’m not talking about a cure, or some way to make sure you are, quote unquote, “useful”. I mean that we’ll figure out a way for you to live a happy life. A successful life in whatever capacity that it may mean for you. When I say “it’ll be ok”, I don’t mean that I have a fix, I just mean that no matter what, the others and I will be here for you, however you need us. I mean that no matter what happens, you have a place here. You are my son. I love you.” Bruce cradled Tim close again, and their tears mingled where their cheeks pressed together.

“It’s ok. I’m here”

(+1) Fair Winds, Another Tale

Despite still being in the middle of setting things up, the picnic mood was already in full swing. Large blankets were being weighed down by pillows and baskets of assorted snacks. Tables were being laid out to hold the main meal, soon to be a large potluck. No matter how much Alfred insisted on being the one to cook it all, each attendee persisted in bringing something to share. He faintly wondered if they would run out of table space again this time ‘round.

With the majority of the tasks already accomplished, and the remaining tasks hijacked by the ever-enthusiastic young people, Alfred found himself with nothing pressing to do. He made his way over to where Tim sat, transferring water bottles and pop cans from cartons to coolers.

“As much as I appreciate the help, I do so wish they’d stop flinging cutlery across the lawn.”

Tim looked up to watch Steph and Duke and Jason for a moment, trying to suppress his own smirk at the sight of them gleefully tossing said cutlery to each other.

“I mean, it's just plastic, right?”

Alfred sighed as he sat in a camping chair set up next to the coolers. “Yes, but that’s not quite the point. The job is getting done, though, I suppose.”

They sat a moment in pleasant silence, watching as their family milled about, more relaxed than Alfred had seen in years. He hated to break the quiet, but with the entire family around lately and as busy as ever, he had hardly had a decent conversation with any of them. He worried about all of them, of course, and their shared inability to ask for help, but Timothy was an especially quiet lad, when it came to facing problems.

“How are things?”

“Well, all the drinks are already chilled, and we have plenty of ice.”

He shrugged a little at Alfred’s pointed look. “I think they’re ok.” He fiddled a bit with the boxes and tied a fresh garbage bag to the back of a cooler. “Not great, but ok. The weight, the fog… It’s lessened, somehow?”

“Your medication is helping?”

“Yeah, I think that’s a big part of it. But more than that, the way that I think about things now, it’s- I mean, obviously, it’s taken months, and ‘better’ isn’t a word that I’d use- but there’s been progress. And for once? It’s like I can let that progress just, be? I’m not sure how to explain it, really.” He leaned back to stare at the sky. “ I’m still working on things, and putting effort into it, but I guess I’m not expecting things to be fixed completely and immediately.”

Alfred hummed in response encouraging him to continue.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s still frustrating to no end. Trying to ‘let go’ of perfectionism and the control issues… Sometimes I feel more like I’m chopping off parts of myself with the issues rather than just ‘letting them go’. But I’ve been finding new ways to define myself, and it’s been more manageable lately. I can work with manageable. And when it’s not, I have people who make it bearable.” He looked off to where Bruce was welcoming their first guests. “That’s more than enough for me.”

“Master Timothy,” Alfred waited until Tim met his sincere gaze, “I am so proud of you.”

The small smile Tim shot at him reminded him so much of the shy grins that were common when young Timothy had first entered their lives. Alfred’s heart ached for the many children whose smiles he had seen stolen over the years. The moment was cut short as Jason stormed over demanding,

“Tim, Steph is insisting that the 2005 Pride and Prejudice is better than the 1995 version. You have to tell her she’s wrong.”

Steph came bounding over with Duke. “What's wrong with you? Do you hate Kiera Knightley or something?”

Jason took a dramatic step back with his hand on his heart. “You should know better than to ask that question! But the 1995 version is still the better version. It's more faithful to the books! The delivery is stunning! The banter is unsurpassable! And it has Colin. Firth.”

Duke breaks in, “I mean, he’s got a point. They took the time necessary to keep as many details as possible from the book. Elizabeth’s take down of Darcy is unparalleled. When it comes to banter that’s definitely the one to watch. Also, the 2005 Mr. Bennet is kinda creepy, not gonna lie.”

“See? Duke here is a man of taste.”

“But the aesthetic!” Stephanie cried, “The finger twitch! Darcy looking like a sad puppy in the rain! Elizabeth kissing Darcy’s hand!!! 2005 is a masterpiece! Tim, you tell them!”

“Don’t look at me, I think they’re both great. Besides, I like Jane Eyre better.” Tim says.

The other three stop and stare.

“You know, that makes sense.” Duke said with an assessing look. “Personally, my favorite is the Count of Monte Cristo.”

Jason threw up his hands in defeat. “You guys aren’t even talking about Jane Austen anymore!” They all turned as another car came up the drive. “Oh thank god, Babs is here! She’ll take my side.”

Their conversation faded into the distance as they paraded back across the lawn, dragging Tim into their argument as they went.

Bruce watched them fondly out of the corner of his eye as he approached in turn.

“The Kent’s are here, save Clark. Lois says he tried a new recipe and wanted to run it past Martha first. Diana’s running a bit late, but for the most part it seems that everyone else will be here in an hour or so. How are things coming along?”

Alfred knew he was asking about more than just picnic preparations. “All is well, Master Bruce. For once, all is well.”

#bbb2020 #batfam big bang 2020 #batfam #batfam fic #Tim Drake #Damian Wayne #dick grayson #bruce wayne #Stephanie Brown #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne #fanfic #hurt/comfort #angst and fluff #holy crap i cant believe this is finished #tw depression #tw anxiety #tw suicidal thoughts #also talk of chronic illness #part three might hit a little too close to home during current events sorry #shout out to my fellow chronic illness peeps who are grieving the loss of health #i def cried while writing it #tim drake gets a hug #also everyones in therapy btw #all is well alfred says until clark shows up with that accursed sweet tea and restarts their ongoing battle over tea #please imagine the intense eye contact across the lawn as clark sets down the sweet tea at the drinks table smugly #it wouldnt fit in the fic but it fits in my heart #also u better believe that Dev is there!!!#im just too shy to write him

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goldrushzukka · 3 years

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1, 2, 7, 8, 9. (Sorry, i know that's like...all of them)

1. what themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?

i love writing coming out storylines. it’s not really that they’re uncommon, i just find a lot of catharsis in them.

2. what are some common elements of stories you are tired of seeing? what would you avoid writing about?

i tend to avoid writing sibling dynamics bc i’m an only child and therefore not really. qualified. i love reading it though!!

7. favourite description in your WIP?

it was really hard to pick one so i have a few answers for this bc i love to talk about myself so. (under the cut bc JESUS this got long but spoilers for and i’ll do anything you say (read it here!) ahead!!!)

- from chapter 2:

Sokka looks at him, a fantasy come to life, and takes off his stupid sweatpants.

He throws them at Zuko’s head, and earns himself a short burst of that real laugh, shocked and unguarded.

“You asshole,” Zuko says. He sits up and grabs Sokka’s hand, pulling him down on top of him. Something comes alive under Sokka’s skin where Zuko’s fingers graze his wrist. He calls it lust and ignores the fact that it feels nothing like it.

Zuko kisses him, his mouth still in the shape of laughter, and the alive thing screams for his attention. Sokka buries it and hopes it won’t deafen him before they’re done.

im very fond of this whole chapter (i think it’s probably my favourite? it was definitely the easiest to write) but i really love looking back on this part particularly now that we’re in the angsty part of the story bc this is where it all started. yes technically it started in chapter 1 but this is when sokka starts to fall for zuko. this is the beginning of all those pesky non-casual feelings that he’s going to pretend don’t exist until someone else calls him out on them.

- also from chapter 2:

He’s forty-five minutes late already, and when he knocks, a woman made of pursed lips and sharp angles answers the door. She looks elegant and expensive the same way a skyscraper does. Or a cache of medieval weaponry.

“Oh,” Sokka says, digging into his pocket to find the map on his phone. “I must have the wrong place, sorry -”

She looks him up and down, her eyes narrowed in a way that feels violent and practiced, and her smirk turns distasteful. Sokka risks a glance down at himself, at his torn up jeans - not distressed, just torn - and the Madonna t-shirt he’s pretty sure actually belongs to Katara, and thinks she might have a point. The bag in his hand feels heavier when her eyes land on it.

“Zuzu,” the woman calls into the apartment, “your dinner’s here.”

“I didn’t order -” Zuko appears in the doorway, bitter frustration in his expression as he looks at the woman.

His eyes fall on Sokka, though, and his face clears into a light-pollution smile.

this is technically two so i will start with: i love azula. i haven’t found any room to bring her back yet but believe me i am LOOKING. she’s hot and mean and gay and i LOVE HER. oh also insider scoop but suki’s date from earlier in this chapter.......WAS azula. they probably won’t see each other again because once azula met sokka and connected his face to the Best Friends Forever picture frame on suki’s desk she stopped answering the phone.

pt 2: i’ve had a couple of comments mention the “light-pollution smile” line specifically and i am always so happy to read them bc yeah. YEAH. i’ll admit it. that line HITS.

- from chapter 4:

He sets his phone down - only, he doesn’t. He misses the table by a mile, and in his scramble to catch his phone before it breaks on the hardwood floor and wakes Momo on the cushion beside him, his hand finds the lip of his cereal bowl, and then that’s falling, too. He manages to catch the phone, but something in his head gets lost in translation on its way down his arms, and he ends up with a boxers-only lap full of soggy Cheerios.

Momo gets a splash of milk on his back and hisses at Zuko for his crimes, and somehow that’s the worst part of it.

haley @fruitysokka said that this passage reads like an action movie and i think about it all the time. (thank u haley i love u)

- lastly this extended metaphor from chapter 6:

The soup is good, once the heat of it clears him up enough to taste it. It’s thick and warm and there’s enough pepper that Sokka gets a kick from it even in his condition. He feels it all the way down his throat and into his stomach, where it mixes with the prickly nervousness he’s feeling from Zuko’s attention.

He sets the bowl down on the table and asks, eyes stuck on his hands in Momo’s fur where he’s climbed into his lap, “How was the date?”

“It was good, actually,” Zuko says. “Jet seems like a nice guy. He’s very - uh - passionate, I guess you could call it? He’s a climate and human rights activist.”

The spines of Sokka’s nervousness turn to daggers.

...

“I said yes. We’re getting lunch on Sunday.”

The daggers are swords now, and Sokka’s heart sinks down, down, down, right to the hilt.

...

“I’ll text you when I’m home,” Zuko promises, and Sokka’s heart skewers itself on a second sword.

Zuko’s smile when Sokka says, “Thank you for the soup,” is a third.

The door closing behind him is a fourth.

The silence as Sokka shuffles back to bed is every single one that remains.

something something canon swordsmen something pride comes before the fall something chivalry fell on his sword from eden by hozier. you guys get it i dont have to explain myself

8. favourite dialogue in your WIP?

ok so i cant share my actual favourite dialogue bc it's a spoiler for chapter 8 and i technically haven't written it yet (it's in my brain just.....plaguing me) but it's GOOD i SWEAR so. once again i have more than one answer bc actually? i love this fic and im proud of it. deal with it.

- from chapter 1:

“Hey, stranger,” Sokka says, still watching him in the mirror. The corner of Zuko’s mouth ticks up.

“You’re not following me, are you?” Zuko’s tone is seductive, endlessly so, and Sokka wonders while he dries his hands if he has to put it on or if he just sounds like that.

“You give a guy one compliment and he thinks you’re stalking him,” Sokka mutters, and Zuko laughs, low and enticing. Not the genuine, endearing laugh of this morning, but one with an agenda.

Well. Sokka always likes a plan.

“Are you following me? ” Sokka asks. He spies a miraculous dry patch on the sink bank and tries to be casual about the way he hops up to sit on it.

“I might be,” Zuko says, and at Sokka’s raised eyebrow, he continues, “I saw you at the bar and I wanted to talk to you. Sue me.”

“You wanted to talk.”

“Amongst other things.”

as a chronically awkward person i am INSANELY proud of the flirting in this fic. no idea if it would work in a real life situation. excited to never find out bc im not about to use lines from my fanfiction on real women.

- from chapter 2

“You must be Suki,” Zuko says. He meets her gaze, and his fingers go still under Momo’s chin.

“And you’re Zuko,” Suki replies, her smile all different shades of intimidating. “I’d shake your hand, but I know where it’s just been.”

i wrote this entire scene just so i could have suki say this. im not even joking. suki is my favourite part of this entire fic and its not even ABOUT her.

- from chapter 3:

When Sokka crosses the room and slips under the covers beside him, Zuko says, “I can leave, if you want. I can go home.”

...

He asks, still barely hovering over Zuko, “What if I don’t want that?”

Zuko swallows. “I can stay.”

“So stay,” Sokka says, and lays his head down on Zuko’s chest.

i just think it’s sweet. i like it a lot. makes my heart hurt a little when i think about it.

- from chapter 4:

[Suki // 15:13] there is a LOT of chmpagrjn

[Suki // 15:13] cahpmhagne

[Suki // 15:13] chsanpghn

[Suki // 15:14] alcohol :)

once again: suki is the best part of this whole fic. i love her so much. she is the reason the word bestie exists. im really proud of the texting in this fic bc it’s my first time actually including it in fic and it’s turned out really well!!

- ok last one bc i just realised this is turning into a novel. from chapter 4:

“How’s my baby?”

Zuko glances down at Momo, batting at the untied laces of his shoes with one determined paw. “He’s doing just fine.”

“And how’s Momo?”

“He’s - what?”

are there better written, more narratively important and emotive lines in this fic? yes. is this the best part of the entire thing? also yes. i invented the jin/yue wedding because i needed a reason for zuko to have a key in what became chapter 6, but sometimes i think the entire fic exists just for this exchange. best dialogue i have ever written.

9. what scene was the hardest for you to write and why?

the start of chapter 6 of aidays was difficult. i kept wanting to skip ahead to the meaty parts - i.e, zuko and his soup - but i didn’t want to do sokka a disservice like that. it was also really hard to maintain the balance of accurately describing the delirium of illness while still being coherent for the reader? so that took me a couple of days to get right.

#dreamrena #ask game #this got AWAY from me #anyway.#theres.....that #asks #mine #and ill do anything you say #might as well go in the tag since its all i talk about in this #uhhh. enjoy?#i have more thoughts on literally all of aidays so. at the risk of sounding even more in love w myself than i do in this already.#if theres anything else anyone would like to know more about (excluding spoilers obv) i am MORE than happy to talk about it #sam winchester voice The Lore

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lilhemmo · 4 years

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Omg thank you so much for writing for vegeta and im so happy u said to request more!! Could i request some jealous vegeta where it makes him and the reader argue then end up making up? I loves angst that ends with fluff! :)

a/n: hello there vegeta anon!! i do hope that you enjoyed my last one shot and this one as well!! feel free to keep requesting if you would like :)

“You’re suffocating me.”

“He’s looking at you like you’re raw meat!”

“He’s allowed to look at me,” you snark, crossing your arms, “I look good.”

A growl emits from the back of his throat but you smack him on the bicep, “You’re so annoying. I can’t even spend one peaceful afternoon at one of Bulma’s famous cook outs and you’re making menacing eyes at everything that walks past me.”

Nonetheless, he releases his arm from around your waist and turns his body from you in petulance.

That isn’t the first or last time that his hands find your body in a public place, specifically when he catches someone glancing over you in an illicit way. Vegeta’s palms graze over your hips, your shoulders, and sometimes so close as to brush his knuckles against your jaw. You know it’s all for show, a mere act to keep inappropriate attention from you.

It takes a little while for you to explode in front of a crowd, but eventually you do. Before now you could chock up his protectiveness as secret emotion that his Saiyan cells won’t allow him to express. Before now you could say that maybe he really just wanted to keep you safe.

But now?

“You can’t have it both ways!”

Your breath heaves from your lungs, eyes bright and watery. You shake your head and stomp your foot in front of him, pointing a finger between his chest plates.

“You don’t get to act like I belong to you in public and then disregard me when the prying eyes go away!” You drive your finger further into his armor, splitting the chest plate so your fingernail can tear into the thing fabric of his training gear.

Vegeta growls and his eyes threaten to glow bright blue, “You dare try to embarrass me in front of all these people? Me, Prince Vegeta?”

“Prince of Bad Attitudes!” You shove him backward with a push of your palm. You swallow thickly and try to keep down the hot tears that threaten to spill onto your blushing cheeks. “You’re being a fraud, Vegeta!”

“Gah?!” He steps back and his hands shake by his sides, “H-How dare you?!”

You narrow your eyes and spit the next words out like venom, “How dare you?”

Without another word, you stalk away from the party, towards the lake so you can dip your toes in the water and let your temper roll off of you in waves. The night is balmy and you look up at the stars, your chest heaving with emotion. You take a breath and wipe the tears from your face, wrapping your arms around your waist as you sniffle.

It takes another hour before you hear feet shuffling in the grass behind you. Your toes have turned to raisins, the skin of your feet crinkling in the cool water of the lake. You don’t even have to turn your head before you’re making a snarky comment, “If you’re here to give me a fake excuse for an apology, you can leave. I don’t want it.”

The familiar sound of Vegeta’s grunting is just behind you and you can imagine the tense look on his face; you cant to smile at the thought of it but you keep your face still.

He walks to where you’re standing, but you’re surprised to see his bare feet in the water. You’ve only seen him without his boots a rare number of times. It’s a part of his armor that he hardly ever removes.

“I don’t understand you,” you break the silence, glaring down at his reflection in the water. You grind your teeth together, hating the fact that you’re seeming so pitiful to him. You must appear weak; he must think so little of you.

Vegeta takes a small breath before speaking, “I cannot pretend to understand you earthlings either.”

“No, you don’t get to make this about me!” You find yourself heating up all over again, blush creeping up your neck to your cheeks. You stare straight at him, “You don’t get to pretend that I’m at fault here. You get to loiter yourself around, slinging yourself onto me so that other people, who are so afraid of you, will cower away from me! It’s so unfair, Vegeta!”

You scowl at him, crossing your arms over your chest to keep yourself from lashing out and trying to slap him. You’re not sure how he’d react, if he would in return lash out back at you. You know you couldn’t take a hit from the mighty Saiyan.

“Of course the earthlings fear me,” he scoffs, “why wouldn’t they? That doesn’t mean they won’t talk to you.”

A glower tightens your brow, “Are you kidding me?! You glow and scream a lot! When you’re tied to my hip every time we’re in public, what do you expect other people to think?!”

You swear you see the beginning of a smirk on his face, and you try to forget how attractive he would be if you weren’t so angry. You roll your eyes and stomp your foot in the water, a splash from the lake darkening your clothes.

“You are insufferable. Why do I continue to choose suffering?!” You run your hands through your hair and you can feel your voice beginning to flutter with nerves. “I get nowhere with you unless my love life is being threatened.”

Vegeta is lost for words, standing beside you with a grimace on his face. He turns his head to look you in the eyes, dark irises almost shining in the moonlight. He swallows and you see his throat bob, “It isn’t my fault that you’re blind, you foul woman.”

“Excuse me?!” you snap, throwing your arms to your sides as you turn to face him. “I’m blind?! How about you?!”

“Tch! I don’t know what you speak of.” Vegeta turns as you grow closer to him. You swear the faintest color of a blush is turning his skin pink, but you’re unable to focus on it as you grip him by the arm.

“It’s because you’re this stupid Saiyan who cannot see anything further than his own fist in front of him!” You dig your fingers into his skin, forcing him to look at you. “You wouldn’t have to pretend to be something special to me if you’d just open your eyes and realize that you already are special to me. You mean the world to me and every time you walk off to some other battle that decides the fate of the planet, my heart drops all over again.”

Vegeta lets out a gasp from the back of his throat and you’re surprised that he doesn’t punt you across the courtyard or into the lake, given your intense grip on him.

“Every time that you leave to go back to Whis and Beerus’s world, I lose a year off my life!” Tears blur your vision as you remember the way he came back damaged after the destroyer tournament. His body was crumpled, his armor cracked in all the wrong places. You shake your head and snatch your arm away from him, “I can’t sleep at night when you’re not here and then when you are, I get this back and forth with you that makes my head hurt.”

“Well I can’t help that every time I see you looking at me like I put the planets in the sky, words escape me! It’s like you put me up on this pedestal and I could never live up to what you think of me!”

You’re lost for words at his admission, staggering back a step, the lake water lapping against your calves. Your mouth is gaping and you’re surprised he doesn’t have a snide comment for your appearance.

“B-But you already think so highly of yourself,” you swallow, blinking a few times to try and clear your senses. “Wh-Why do you have a difficulty understanding how much I think of you?”

Vegeta turns his head, squinting down at the ground so he doesn’t have to look at you. He sighs, reluctant to admit his next words, “I-I can spew words of how proud and mighty I am all day, little woman. It doesn’t mean I always believe it.”

You are emboldened enough to reach up and touch his jaw, “Vegeta...”

He wraps his bare hand around your wrist, but does not stray from you. You’re surprised that he does not cower away from your touch. It gives you the courage to take a step closer and press your free palm against his chest, curling your fingers around his breastplate.

“I want you to want me when there’s no one else around,” you tell him, taking a chance. You force your eyes to focus on his, “I hate that I only feel important to you when someone else could possibly have me. I can’t keep doing this, Vegeta. I don’t care if you think I’m weak.”

“Weak?!” he snaps. He turns your chin upward so he can get a better look at your face, and also to brush his thumb against your lower lip. “Don’t you know that I would not be so attracted to you if you were not the strongest woman I know? You may not be a real Saiyan, little woman, but you are a human force to be reckoned with. I fear for any mortal who stands in your way.”

That prompts a smile on your face, your knees weak at his commentary. You want to kiss him but you’re not sure if that’s something that Saiyans understand.

“Human affection does not make sense to me,” he admits as if he were reading your mind. “However, I know it is what you will need to feel cared for.”

You can’t help the small giggle that parts your lips. You lean forward and rest your forehead against his shoulder. His warm palms rest against your lower back. It’s quiet for a few minutes and you’re more than confused as to why he’s allowing you to stand this way - anyone could find you at any point in time, embarrassing him for being so weak for an earthling.

You tilt your head in questioning, but it’s as if he knows the answer you wish to ask before you speak, “If anyone truly believes me to be weak for this, then I will strike them where they stand.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you in front of everyone. I didn’t want to embarrass you, I just got so angry.” You shake your head and swallow thickly, running your hands down his abdomen to rest at the base of his chest plate.

He presses his thumb just under your chin at the soft spot of your throat, using the sensitive flesh to force your eyes back to his. Vegeta is surprisingly smirking down at you, a fire in his pupils that makes something spark in your belly.

“You being willing to stand up to me in front of all of those others was surprisingly attractive,” Vegeta is closer to you with each word until only a hairsbreadth separates your mouth from his. “It’s part of the reason I followed you out here.”

“What took you so long?” you ask in a breathy voice, your eyes threatening to flutter shut at the sensation of his closeness.

With the gentlest of touches, he guides you until your chests are pressed firm to one another, hand against the base of your back. His mouth slots over yours and he’s firm but careful when he kisses you. Your palms rest against his neck, the tips of your fingers just barely brushing against the hair at the base of his head.

You are the first to pull away, Vegeta trying to follow you with the tilt of his chin. He grunts at the loss of contact and the sound makes you laugh. You press your lips to his cheek, “I’m starting to freeze. Think we can take this somewhere else?”

Vegeta has you in a bridal carry before you can take your next breath. He’s flying in the air, your body held tightly in his grip, “I have an idea of a few places we can take this.”

You notice that you’re headed to his room at Capsule Corp, and your body lights up at the thought of what is to come next.

a/n: hope you loved it!!!!!!!!! please let me know if you’d like to read more :)

#vegeta #vegeta x reader #vegeta imagine #vegeta one shot #vegeta fanfic #vegeta fanfiction #vegeta dbz #vegeta dbs #vegeta dragon ball z #vegeta dragon ball super #prince vegeta #my writing

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musashi · 3 years

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hm, im a pretty casual gamer and i probably wont be able to actually play any other zeldas since the switch is my only console. My favorite tone is darker but with bits of hope but i also like light hearted things! My fave thing abt botw was the characters, how every npc was unique and had a different personality. I also loved the champions! I also liked the setting, that they failed and now had to try again. I also liked Link!! I thought his character was great! i wanna know more abt him!

My heart of hearts is SCREAMING at you to watch a let’s play/full playthru of Majora’s Mask. You can’t really do “cutscene movies” with Zelda like a lot of other games because fully-rendered cutscenes weren’t a thing til BOTW (and... neither was voice acting, for the record. BOTW/AOC is the only zelda with True Voice Acting xD)

BUT Majora’s Mask ticks a lot of your boxes. It’s probably the darkest Zelda game but there’s a lot of bittersweet to it? The synopsis is you’re basically trying to prevent the end of the world in this one specific town, and along the way you get to meet every single person in the town and learn about their entire lives. All the NPCs have stories, incredibly rich ones more often than not, and they all operate on set schedules. So there’s a 3 day, 24-hour cycle and you can mess with time, and you see them doing the same things in the same places at the same times, consistently. It’s really cool!

It’ll grab at your heart but for me, someone who can’t really handle dark/depressing media, there was never a point in MM where I felt like the story was devoid of hope. Things seem very catastrophic and you run around wondering how you can stop something as big as the end of the world but the whole game just kinda feels like you’re laying in a bed with your loved one while bombs go off outside. I cannot explain the tone, but I think you’ll love it. Both the 3DS remake and the original N64 MM look really nice, but I think the N64 version has a bit of a leg up because the low-poly rendering makes the creepy bits of MM extra creepy in a way the 3DS doesn’t.

(This game is also a sequel to Ocarina of Time, but do know you literally do not need to know anything about OOT to play it. The game gives you everything pretty much immediately.)

If you like Link specifically I’d also say Skyward Sword would be a fun one for u!! It’s on the more Lighthearted side tone wise but it’s the game that gives Link the most personality. He’s intended to be a blank slate because the idea is to project yourself & your motivations onto him (they named him for this, he’s the link between the player and the world) but a few times they’ve veered away from that and decided to kinda give him his own feelings and thoughts.

Skyward Sword is about the first Link ever really. Back in the timeline before a lot of Zelda Lore would come into play. And instead of living in this vast, sprawling kingdom, him & Zelda are just childhood besties about to graduate high school. The game literally opens up on their equivalent of, like, prom night sfdgfsghgf.

But what’s cool about Skyward Sword is that because Link has this incredibly emotional connection to Zelda right off the bat, he spends the game pretty much frothing at the mouth intent to protect & save her once the Plot kicks in. There’s never a scene in the game where you can’t see everything he’s feeling painted directly on his face, which is not actually that common for other Links! The chemistry between him and literally every other character really thrives because of this. While some people probably enjoyed the freedom to make their own interpretations of Link, in Skyward it’s really clear what his relationships with everyone are, and you get to learn what kind of person he really is much more easily than in, like BOTW where you have to go digging through diary entries to find out anything about him.

Skyward Sword, being the first chronological game in the timeline, also just has a lot of awesome lore for the franchise as a whole. Like you get to see where the master sword comes from!!!! its actual origin!!! and you get to learn about why Link and Zelda and Ganon keep getting reincarnated and living out this same battle in more or less different ways throughout the ages. You get to learn stuff you didn’t think even mattered, like why there’s a red bird on the Hylian shield, or why Link wears that stupid green outfit in other games. You get to learn wtf Zelda was talking about in BOTW when she talks about the sword “having a voice” and “speaking to her.” Lots of cute stuff to set the tone for the series.

my LAST recommendation is Twilight Princess but the conundrum here is I HAVE NEVER BEATEN THAT ONE because every time I try I just can’t get into it. but do not let my trepidation steer you away it is very much a Me Problem, TP is widely considered one of the best Zeldas of all time. It, like Majora’s Mask, is darker-toned, and from what I can tell has a Pretty Emotive Link as well who has a whole life in the tiny village he starts out in, so I think you’ll probably like that one too! I just cant do my long rambling about it dfghdfghfggf

ANYWAYS hopefully this helps. skyward sword & twilight princess have pretty comprehensive “cutscene movies” but you really gotta watch an LP for Majora to get the full scope of the game. Majora is ALL about the sidequests. If you want reccs for who to watch I’m always gonna say Chuggaaconroy because the respect he gives to the games he plays & their tone is unparalleled & also he’s autistic so you know you’re getting infodumping about the lore at every fucking turn which I LIVE for.

I am so happy you’re enjoying Zelda and hopefully this ask inspires you to dive in!!!! Remember there’s no wrong way to do it! These games are made to be accessible at any point haha. Keep me updated if u want, I’m super excited to learn what you discover!

#wendy rambles #Anonymous #wendy answers

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kingjasnah · 4 years

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Is there the full list of brandersons favourite games reposted somewhere?

i dont think so? or not that ive seen. u can literally just sign up for the newsletter on his website but screw it ill just post them for u. it sure was a TRIP scrolling past these to get to the interlude though. undertale is on this list.....im shakign at the thought that adolin was based off ff10 tidus but i cant get it out of my head now

#10: Katamari Damaci

I love things that make me look at the world in a new way. Katamari did this in spades. It is an imaginative, bizarre vision with unique gameplay. It is like nothing else in the world and I love it for all its strangeness and occasional lack of gameplay polish.

I was transfixed the first time I played it, and have looked forward to it being remade and rereleased on multiple different consoles. I love the cute—and somehow creepy at the same time—storyline. It feels like a fever dream more than a game sometimes, and is probably the closest I’ll ever get to understanding what it’s like to do drugs.

#9: Undertale

This is an oddball on this list because I think it’s the only game that is not a franchise from a major studio—but is instead an indie game, which I believe was originally funded on Kickstarter.I loved how this felt like a novel as much as a game. It was one person’s vision; a single story told really well, with a huge amount of personality. The humor was just my kind of wonderful/terrible, and I was instantly enamored with the characters.That probably would have been enough, but it is a nice deconstruction of video games as a medium—and has not one, but multiple innovative gameplay mechanics. Together, the package left me enamored. This is a work of genius that I feel everyone should at least try, even if it ends up not being for them.

#8: Fallout: New Vegas

I have played all of the core Fallout games, and I was one of the (it seems few) who was really excited when it moved from turn-based tactics to first-person shooter. While Fallout 3 was good, it didn’t have the charm of the first two.New Vegas delivered on everything I was hoping to see. The charm was back, the writing sharp, the quests imaginative. The gameplay was engaging and branched in a variety of directions, the gunplay was solid, and the atmosphere immersive. I of course love the first two games in the series—but New Vegas combines everything I like in gaming into one package. (As a note, I own the Outer Worlds, and am looking forward to digging into it. Consider this item on the list a recommendation of other Obsidian games—like Knights of the Old Republic Two—regardless of genre, as I’ve found them universally to be superior to their contemporaries.)

#7 Super Mario World

When I was eleven, I flew (alone, which was very exciting to me) from Nebraska to visit my uncle Devon in Salt Lake City. Before I left, my father gave me $200 and told me to pay for my own meals while on the trip—but of course, my uncle didn’t allow this. At the end of the trip, I tried to give him the money, which he wouldn’t take.I mentioned my dad would take the money back when I got home, but that was okay. Well, my uncle would have none of that, and drove me to the local mall and made me spend it on a Nintendo Entertainment System. (This uncle, you might guess, is an awesome human being.)Since that day of first plugging it in and experiencing Mario for the first time, I was hooked. This is the only platformer on the list, as I don’t love those. But one makes an exception for Mario. There’s just so much polish, so much elegance to the control schemes, that even a guy who prefers an FPS or an RPG like me has to admit these are great games. I picked World as my favorite as it’s the one I’ve gone back to and played the most.

#7: The Curse of Monkey Island (Monkey Island 3)

I kind of miss the golden age of adventure gaming, and I don’t know that anyone ever got it as right as they did with this game. It is the pinnacle of the genre, in my opinion—no offense to Grim Fandango fans.This game came out right before gaming’s awkward teenage phase where everything moved to 3-d polygons. For a while after, games looked pretty bad, though they could do more because of the swap. But if you want to go see what life was like before that change, play Monkey Island 3. Composed of beautiful art pieces that look like cells from Disney movies, with streamlined controls (the genre had come a long way from “Get yon torch”) and fantastic voice acting, this game still plays really well.This is one of the few games I’ve been able to get my non-gamer wife to play through with me, and it worked really well as a co-op game with the two of us trying to talk through problems. It’s a lovingly crafted time capsule of a previous era of gaming, and if you missed it, it’s really worth trying all these years later. (The first and second games hold up surprisingly well too, as a note, particularly with the redone art that came out a decade or so ago.)Also, again, this one has my kind of humor.

#6: Breath of the Wild

I never thought a Zelda game would unseat A Link to the Past as my favorite Zelda, but Breath of the Wild managed it. It combined the magic of classic gameplay with modern design aesthetic, and I loved this game.There’s not a lot to say about it that others haven’t said before, but I particularly liked how it took the elements of the previous games in the series (giving you specific tools to beat specific challenges) and let you have them all at once. I like how the dungeons became little mini puzzles to beat, instead of (sometimes seemingly endless) slogs to get through. I liked the exploration, the fluidity of the controls, and the use of a non-linear narrative in flashbacks. It’s worth buying a Switch just to play this one and Mario—but in case you want, you can also play Dark Souls on Switch... (That’s foreshadowing.)

#5: Halo 2

Telling stories about Halo Two on stream is what made me think of writing this list.I’m sometimes surprised that this game isn’t talked about as much as I think it should be. Granted, the franchise is very popular—but people tend to love either Reach or games 1 or 3 more than two. Two, however, is the only one I ever wanted to replay—and I’ve done so three or four times at this point. (It’s also the only one I ever beat on Legendary.)It’s made me think on why I love this one, while so many others seem to just consider it one of many in a strong—but in many ways unexceptional—series of games. I think part of this is because I focus primarily on the single-player aspects of a game (which is why there aren’t any MMOs on this list.) Others prefer Halo games with more balanced/polished multiplayer. But I like to game by myself, and don’t really look for a multiplayer experience. (Though this is changing as I game with my sons more and more.)I really like good writing—which I suppose you’d expect. But in games, I specifically prefer writing that enhances the style of game I’m playing. Just dumping a bunch of story on me isn’t enough; it has to be suited to the gameplay and the feel of the game. In that context, I’ve rarely encountered writing as good as Halo 2. From the opening—with the intercutting and juxtaposition of the two narratives—to the quotes barked out by the marines, the writing in this game is great. It stands out starkly against other Halo games, to the point that I wonder what the difference is.Yes, Halo Two is a bombastic hero fantasy about a super soldier stomping aliens. But it has subtle, yet powerful worldbuilding sprinkled all through it—and the music...it does things with the story that I envy. It’s kind of cheating that games and films get to have powerful scores to help with mood.The guns in Two feel so much better than Halo One, and the vehicles drive far better. The only complaint I have is that it’s only half a story—as in, Halo 2 and 3 seem like they were one game broken in two pieces. And while 3 is good (and Reach does something different, which I approve of in general) neither did it for me the way Two did, and continues to do.

#3: Final Fantasy X

You probably knew Final Fantasy was coming. People often ask if the way these games handle magic was an influence upon me. All I can say is that I’ve played them since the first one, and so they’re bound to have had an influence.On one hand, these games are really strange. I mean, I don’t think we gamers stop quite often enough to note how downright bizarre this series gets. Final Fantasy doesn’t always make the most sense—but the games are always ambitious.Ten is my favorite for a couple of reasons. I felt like the worldbuilding was among the strongest, and I really connected with the characters. That’s strange, because this is one of the FF games without an angst-filled teen as the protagonist. Instead, it has a kind of stable happy-go-lucky jock as the protagonist.But that’s what I needed, right then. A game that didn’t give me the same old protagonist, but instead gave me someone new and showed me I could bond to them just as well. Ten was the first with full voice acting, and that jump added a lot for me. It has my favorite music of the series, and all together is what I consider the perfect final fantasy game. (Though admittedly, I find it more and more difficult to get into turn-based battle mechanics as I grow older.)

#2: Bloodborne

Those who follow my streams, or who read other interviews I’ve done, probably expected this series to be at or near the top. The question wasn’t whether Souls would be here, but which one to pick as my favorite.I went with Bloodborne, though it could have been any of them. (Even Dark Souls 2—which I really like, despite its reputation in the fandom.) I’ve been following FromSoftware’s games since the King’s Field games, and Demon’s Souls was a huge triumph—with the director Hidetaka Miyazaki deserving much of the praise for its design, and Dark Souls (which is really just a more polished version of Demon’s Souls).As I am a fan of cosmic horror, Bloodborne is probably my favorite overall. It really hit the mix of cosmic and gothic horror perfectly. It forced me to change up my gameplay from the other Souls games, and I loved the beautiful visuals.I am a fan of hard games—but I like hard games that are what I consider “fair.” (For example, I don’t love those impossible fan-made Mario levels, or many of the super-crazy “bullet hell”-style games.) Dark Souls is a different kind of hard. Difficult like a stern instructor, expecting you to learn—but giving you the tools to do so. It presents a challenge, rather than being hard just to be hard.If I have a problem with Final Fantasy, it’s that the games sometimes feel like the gameplay is an afterthought to telling the story. But in the Souls games, story and gameplay are intermixed in a way I’d never seen done before. You have to construct the story like an archeologist, using dialogue and lore from descriptions of in-game objects. I find this fascinating; the series tells stories in a way a book never could. I’m always glad when a game series can show off the specific strengths of the medium.In fact, this series would be #1 except for the little fact that I have way too much time on Steam logged playing...

#1: Civilization VI

This series had to take #1 by sheer weight of gameplay time. I discovered the first on a friend’s computer in the dorms my freshman year—and I can still remember the feeling of the birds chirping outside, realizing I’d been playing all night and really should get back to my own dorm room.That still happens, and has happened, with every game in the series. I have a lot of thoughts on this series, many of them granular and too specific for this list. (Like, it’s obvious AI technology isn’t up to the task of playing a game this complex—so could we instead get a roguelike set of modifiers, game modes, etc. to liven up the games, rather than just having a difficulty slider that changes a few simple aspects of the game?)I’ll try not to rant, because I really do love this game series. A lot of people consider IV to be the pinnacle of the series, but after V unstacked units—and VI unstacked cities—there was no way I could ever go back. If for some reason, you’ve never played this grand patriarch of the 4X game genre, it’s about starting with a single stone-age settler who can found a city—then playing through eras of a civilization, growing your empire, to try to eventually get offworld with a space program. (Or, if you prefer, conquering the world.)It’s a load of fun in the way I like to have fun, and I feel like the series has only gotten better over the years. My hat is off to the developers, who keep reinventing the series, rather than making the exact same game over and over.Now, about that request for difficulty modes...

there are runner ups but for the sake of anyone whos on mobile and cant get past a read more (first of all omg im SO sorry) ill refrain. anyway he thought WHAT loz game was the best before botw?

#mix between HARDCORE judgement and like. yea. yea ff10 was pretty good wasnt it #but i dont think its anywhere near the best of them #long post #im read mores dont work imm so fucking sorry this is so long #MOST of these games are good its just so wild its so wild its SO wild #asks #Anonymous

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years

Text

more malec livewatch, everyone! i decided to start making the posts separately instead of keeping reblogging the same one over and over because i don’t want to drive everyone crazy with that gigantic fucking post. you can read the first ones here and i’ll keep updating the posts to lead to the next ones i guess. also im tagging it malec livewatch for those who want to avoid this nonsense

so let’s brave pre-wedding episode 12 i guess

oh boy.... we’re gonna do it... we’re gonna experience the Maximum Cringe

the special effects are so BAD odaijsdoaj when he summons the wine into Alec’s hand it’s just...... god

“we never finished our conversation” i mean you were the one who finished it magnus so wtf are you going on about

“it’s about family, tradition, honor” yeah we get it zuko boi duoahsiudhdiusa

really tho like he’s so clearly just.... reciting it. taking some shit out off the top of his head about how it’s the right thing and it’s sad tbh

he clearly kinda already has a script too? like “you and I understand marriage very differently” he says it right off the bat, he’s been thinking it over and hghgghgh

magnus goes near alec and alec swallows immediately and magnus ain’t even making a move to touch him yet. just diuahsdah it’s so obvious how hard he’s trying to hold back here

“you’re confusing me” is like the only thing he says the whole scene that sounds genuine

he’s paying so much attention to magnus’ dumb little speech about what love feels like too like. he’s trying to hold back but he’s very clearly pulled in, and i don’t even think it’s by magnus specifically (i mean obviously cuz have you seen him) but because he... kind of wants to hear it, kind of wants magnus to give him some golden argument that will make his whole resolution shatter. except he doesn’t because he doesn’t know what he’ll do then, but he’s still hoping for something and it’s sad

like how magnus clearly pauses like he’s waiting for alec’s reaction too, like. alec makes to leave and magnus doesn’t go after him, but he speaks, and alec stops. only when alec stops he gets closer. only when alec looks at him, clearly waiting to hear more, does he begin to talk again. i dig that even if most of this scene is kinda ugh to me

i hate how he uses his magic tho like what’s the point?? like yes i know that magic “can’t create feelings” but still dauhdsa it kinds feels like he’s cheating or trying to manipulate alec or something and i’m.. not into how the whole thing is done

oof hate how alec says “this is all just a game to you, isn’t it?” like bitch you know damn well it’s not like he’s putting himself at risk and showing you so much vulnerability and i hate how he goes for the whole “oh magnus doesn’t care about anything he’s just a seductive lothario” narrative in here lowkey. like i know he’s just trying to distance himself and he doesn’t fully believe it but... aaaaa i hate it

and he’s so HURT by alec’s words too like the rejection doesn’t hurt him as much as hearing alec say that he just flirts and it means nothing to him does. he’s trying so fucking hard to be open and honest and taking such a RISK (psychological, emotional, even physical) and alec is just throwing all of that bullshit persona he’s actively trying not to hide behind in his face, belittling all his efforts and feelings, and aaa

like again i don’t really blame alec but he truly is so hurt

still wonder what alec was about to say when he turned around to talk to him and magnus wasn’t there anymore tbh like. probably something else to try and distance himself so it’s probably good magnus left and isn’t there to hear it and it kind of forces alec to really think it over to himself instead of trying to argue but...... i do wonder what he was going to say diahsiduahdisah

magnus doesn’t even answer the whole “this means nothing to you” veiled accusation which.... also hurts like idk if he’s trying to avoid a fight or derailing like alec clearly is trying to, or if he just is too tired to have this argument, or if he just doesn’t want to open up this much, but either way he doesn’t acknowledge it except for his hurt look and oof

no one cares about jace and clary talking or whatever’s happening here next

i had never noticed the way magnus winks at clary when he says “oh, it’s happy hour somewhere, my dear” daishdaiuh it’s kinda cute tbh

hodge is so uncomfortable like the way he talks to magnus and gets too close to him... in a way that he doesn’t with anyone else either like he’s clearly just lowkey despising him/getting into his space and magnus notices too and it gives me the heebie jeebies

diuhaiudsahduaishdai magnus’ IMMEDIATE reaction of “why is ragnor fell there, he’s not more powerful than me” asohdaiudha we stan bickering bffs i truly love them so much

“he’s older than you” “certainly not wiser” daiohsahda

i think he might also be lowkey trying to protect ragnor and take the clave’s attention away from him now that i think about it but still i love their bickering

nah that’s cancelled he immediately rats him out on having been jocelyn’s profesor lmaoo

“that’s why he hasn’t been responding to my fire messages” daoihdsaiohads someone needs to lick their wounds

he’s just like “oh ragnor is hiding in his specific safehouse outside of london” like daoiusduaihdasuda love how he just knows that off the top of his head when ragnor clearly didn’t actually tell him about it since he just fucked off and hasn’t been responding

“didn’t know you were here” “that was the point” doaiuhdasiouhdaiuhdas

like i know he’s talking about the marriage but also.... just mood in general tbh

again with the eye flickering. hes looking at magnus, no hes not, yeah he is, haha SIKE, oh there it is again, nope it’s gone..... kinda funny cuz like i know that alec’s eyes flicker a lot in general but afterwards when they are together every time he looks at magnus it’s just so pointed and intense and focused on him so the contrast of watching the s1 scenes and realizing how little his glances at magnus always lasted is... interesting and heartbreaking. like obviously he doesn’t want to be looking at any man for too long, doesn’t want to take that risk, keeps hyper aware of his attraction at all times, but he still can’t help the glances and then when he can look he just does it so unapologetically and intensely and you can tell that it’s just. intimate to him (to both of them really) right then, and wow

i know we talk a lot about alec’s Big Hands but magnus’ hands are so nice too in like a totally different way... anytime he holds anything it just looks like he’s treating it like it’s precious, it’s so delicate and careful and his hands are smooth and pretty and wow i love him so fucking much

wow can’t believe nothing heartbreaking at all happens when they go to ragnor’s house and that ragnor just winks at magnus like “haha yes i am ‘dead’” and magnus is like “yes, this is a lie and a ruse and also a plan. i am perfectly aware that ragnor is not dead at all”

ragnor says “my dear friend, i will always be here for you” with so much honesty and love and ugh i love them like they’re always little bitches to each other but they still have the room to be perfectly loving and honest with each other and i stan

ragnor looks at magnus with so much fucking hurt when magnus says “i prayed she would love me the same” like you can tell it destroys him to even remember it or think about it and aaa

“he was always so much better looking than you” and the way magnus purses his lips in what is clearly a smile like he just knows it’s the teasing and he loves ragnor and their dynamic and i just daouhdsauida also he’s so beautiful boy i die

the way ragnor says “someday, someone will come and will tear down those walls you put around you and around your heart” and magnus looks at him with so much. fucking PAIN in his eyes because someone did but it got nowhere and in the end alec just kind of acknowledged his walls again and went back to pretending that it never happened and that magnus didn’t progress or open up to it at all, that magnus was just lying, that it’s just a game and dauhdaiudha god he’s so HURT

again i owe harry shum jr my entire life like he might be seriously the best actor i’ve ever seen in any show, he’s so damn expressive and talented in every little motion he’s truly a pearl in the desert of shit that is this show

“even in death, you give the best advice” ugh love how this really cements that magnus is used to opening up to ragnor and even with their bickering there’s so much room for them to be emotionally honest like we stan

anyway sure wish this had any emotional continuity whatsoever but at least the cringefest is over. onto an actual good scene fucking finally

love every little detail about this scene as yall probably already know so i’ll try not to point every single one of them out yet again but who knows if i’ll succeed. i bet that i won’t tbh

love the contrast between alec looking so tense when lydia comes down the aisle and she’s like all smiles and shit

she’s before him and he can barely look at her like his eyes flicker a bit between her and the bouquet and he settles on the bouquet this whole thing is so... wrong so clearly, like i could show it to someone who doesn’t know shit about sh and they would be able to tell that nothing fits

even alec’s clothes are weird, like idk i don’t understand fashion but his look looks so disjointed, like the blazer doesn’t really match the pants, the bowtie looks weird and doesn’t match the buttons, and shit and nothing about him looks like it’s in the right place. and everyone else (except maybe izzy who also looks miserable lmao) looks like a perfect picture and he’s just.... idk there’s this aura of wrongness around him that’s subtle but really well done in the terms of costume and shit. the costume department really went off in this whole scene honestly like we stan. possibly the only ones other than the actors who knew what the fuck they were doing lmao

when lydia smiles at izzy and izzy barely moves up the corner of one of her lips dajdasnjdan she looks even more miserable than alec does and god i love the lightwood siblings so much like i truly do. she’s supporting him because she’s decided she’s not going to keep pushing him when it only leads to him not trusting her but she’s all broken that he’s broken, and she was willing to take his place and throw her life away even when that’s everything she’s always tried to avoid, just so he wouldn’t have to do this, and aaaaa

who cares about jace and clary looking at each other @directing team like seriously get over this

he turns in the direction of the silent brother in an almost kind of jerking motion like he completely forgot about where he was supposed to go or something, like again he’s just... not in it

they are holding hands in the WEIRDEST possible way too like there’s so much distance between them it’s almost funny ldaojsja

he tries to smile at lydia when she’s about to put the rune on his arm like he knows she knows that he’s hating this and he’s just bearing it and trying to not make her uncomfortable? like doajdsaoj

the way that magnus INTERRUPTS not just the wedding but also the chorus, you could tell there was a crescendo coming even if you’ve never heard the song, but magnus pushes the doors open and suddenly it stops and there’s this little bit and then the “tututututu” of tension as he comes into view and his steps perfectly match the three little beats that were already there before, but sound so much louder and more prominent like a heartbeat, like before they were muffled and now they’re real??? the poetic cinema bro

ill just never get over the way they used song here it sounds like an AMV like the song isn’t just giving the vibe, they are telling the story THROUGH the song and the whole scene is basically a coreography, and the song is the narrative, and holy shit i love it so much could you imagine if they had used this amount of thought and genius and clever storytelling the whole show?? i’d shit myself

ugh the DRAMA of magnus’ look again i KNOW i’ve been over this again and again and again and again and again and again but i just. i love how they used his makeup & costume to accentuate magnus’ 1- face, 2- eyes, 3- jaw, and 4- adam’s apple. the whole focus is on his face and eyes (which again so expressive we stan harry shum jr in this house), the fact that his eyes are his WARLOCK MARK (yeah they’re not out but like we’re still drawing attention to the part of magnus he tries to hide the most, and the part of him that marks what makes him disdainful to shadowhunters), the fact that his jaw and adam’s apple are so prominent. his whole face looks really sharp and masculine you know?? like the whole focus is on everything about him that’s supposed to be “wrong” and make malec “wrong” but he’s never looked more beautiful (IT’S SUCH AN UNDERRATED LOOK) and they didn’t sacrifice his gnc-ness for it either, on the contrary, they gave his hair the hot pink streak which. INSPIRED WE STAN, and the makeup is very clear (again esp around his eyes) which of course only adds to it because he’s not just a man, he’s a gnc man and that makes it “worse”, but also like, i like how they accentuated his masculinity in alec’s coming out scene, without sacrificing his identity and gender non conformness. again the costume department is the only one who genuinely knew what they were doing 100% of the time i hope they all got big fucking checks

alec just blinks and focuses on him and it’s the first time it looks like he’s really looking at something and i just wow

izzy is so happy to see magnus there :) she loves her brother so much :)

magnus holding up two fingers to get people to shut up... the way he snarls “maryse, this is between me and your son” with so much certainty and like no room for bullshit he’s so good at making shadowhunters too speechless to stop him and honestly im such a whore tbh if he did this to me id just nut on the spot. shut me up daddy. fuck who said that

like how they included the “i’ll leave if he asks me to” and how he really doesn’t say anything, he’s just standing there, like they made sure to make this scene respectful and i was kind of dreading it the first time because i’d HATE it if magnus had outed him or made this whole drama out of it but he didn’t and i like that so so much

“i thought we were doing the right thing, but... this isn’t it” always gets me and i can’t even put my finger on why. it just does like again this is not really about magnus or their relationship, it’s about how he feels about the whole thing, everything that he’s giving up and he barely knows what for anymore, and i justjfianfajf

again the BRILLIANCE of the song usage the way that he’s talking to lydia and the beat is so damn loud and overwhelming and then as soon as he turns to magnus everything just drowns out and there is one (1) piano note and it’s just him and magnus and it’s like everything silences??? he’s just so damn focused and it’s not the nervousness and loudness of everyone else and their whole audience (they don’t even show the audience anymore after alec turns to him for real and before the actual kiss i don’t think) and there’s just that sharp focus and certainty because alec’s made up his mind and there’s no sound anymore like mwaaahhh poetic cinEMA

and it’s just that moment of clarity as they both look at each other and the song begins again with the higher tempo again, but it feels more like, a march? than that overwhelming noise. and of course there’s the singing and it feels like everything has purpose and is just laser focused and it’s still intense but in a completely opposite way, not lost but found and wow im such a whORE for this scene it’s unbelievable

like how alec takes the first step towards magnus after he’s down the stairs exactly as the song goes “want” like mwaahhhhh brilliance amazing talented showstopping spectacular never been done before completely unique,

his “enough” is dajksdfahidasdhadusahuash again im a simple sub id nut

i was right they only really show the audience again after the kiss. except for maryse but even then it’s so quick, we see her going to alec and after alec says “enough” she literally doesn’t show anymore it’s like she’s not even there, she just disappears it’s so sexy we stan??? like again alec’s made up his mind and nothing else is there to stop him wow love that for him could you imagine thinking this man is shy and insecure? can’t relate

THEY ARE SKIGGNISNGG

FOREVER A WHORE FOR THE WAY MAGNUS CHASES AFTER HIM HOLY FUCKING SHIT. THE WAY HE’S SO LOST IN THE KISS, IN THE ELATION, AND HE JUST CAN’T HELP GOING FOR MORE BEFORE HE CAN STOP HIMSELF AND KEEP UP WITH HIS TIGHT COMPOSTURE (because magnus had barely moved once alec had seen him, he just stood there and waited like he was waiting for his cue, he was holding himself perfectly steadily and just had so many walls) LIKE HE JUST CAN’T HELP BUT WANT?? AND GO FOR MORE?? AND THEN HE REALIZES ALEC IS PULLING AWAY AND HE LOOKS AT HIM FOR A SECOND (and his eyes look so DIFFERENT, not like there’s a wall there, he looks relieved and happy and even kind of dazed and i just wow the difference is SO clear) AND ALEC LOOKS AT HIM AND HE TAKES JUST A FRACTION OF A SECOND BEFORE HE LEANS IN AGAIN, AND IT’S THE FIRST TIME THAT MAGNUS HAS ASKED FOR MORE AND ALEC’S GIVEN IT, BECAUSE ALEC HAS BEEN GIVING HIM SOME OPENINGS BUT EVERY TIME MAGNUS WANTED MORE HE TURNED AWAY, BUT THIS TIME HE FUCKING GIVES MAGNUS WHAT HE’S SILENTLY ASKING FOR, HE’S CHOOSING HIM FULLY AND NOT JUST ENOUGH FOR THEM TO BE ABLE TO BE TOGETHER, HE’S CHOOSING TO GO ALL IN AND KISS MAGNUS UNTIL HE’S SATISFIED AND HOLY SHIT THE POETIC CINEMA!! THE TALENT!!! THE BRILLIANCE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THANK YOU SHADOWHUNTERS CREW FOR PUTTING UP YOUR FIVE TOTAL BRAINCELLS TOGETHER TO MAKE THIS FANTASTIC THING HAPPEN HOLY FUCKING SHIT THIS SCENE IS EVERYTHING TO ME

a bitch needs to lie down i think that’s all for today

next part

#malec livewatch #magnus bane #alec lightwood #meta #malec #sh

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