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#but seeing them openly revel in how much control they have over me
drdemonprince · 9 months
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are there any medium articles or other essays you've written that you have a different perspective on now? Whether a small bullet point or the entire objective of a piece. It's interesting following your journey while catching up on the archive
Ohhhh yeah. In a big way. My thinking on nearly all matters continues to evolve, so much so that I always cringe a bit at some phrasings in my books by the time they are out.
In my work on Medium you can see a strong inconsistency in how I think about several topics -- I've gone through periods of disparaging my family, to extending them grace, to thinking I have a moral responsibility to fight with them, to regretting my rage at them, to calling my parents abusive, and on and on. On this topic, it's not so much that my feelings have changed, so much as each point of view represents one facet of the same gem I'm spinning in my mind's eye.
My thoughts on sexual assault and justice have evolved a ton. Around the time of the Weinstein and Ansari accusations, I wrote a lot about rape and coercion. Then a dear friend experienced an assault and was not believed by a huge friend group that we shared and I took on an even more hardline, believe-all-victims-and-take-action-swiftly-to-protect-them stance. I was more traumatized and dysphoric back then too.
My hardline stance eventually came into conflict with my abolitionism, and my growing respect for the importance of personal discernment that emerged more and more over the course of the pandemic. I just saw too many people who were afraid to exercise their own discernment on a wide array of topics and who amplified vague callouts of all kinds without skepticism (god, remember the Wayfair conspiracy?), and I saw how such formless accusations harmed the marginalized in particular. And all the gormless attacks on "narcissists" as the cause of abuse really chilled me. all that strongly tempered my dogmatism.
But I have also witnessed the "anti cancel culture" squad fail to live up to any value system whatsoever and I have fought with them a lot quite openly over their frequently racist, transphobic, theory-free views. All I know today is that navigating these waters is very, very hard, and that I am only in control of living by my values and being outspoken about them and that attempts to manipulate a moral response out of other people don't work and that information is only as good as my knowledge about who and where it came from. I think my evolution on all this closely tracks with the shifts in the zeitgeist -- it's rare for me to be that on pace with the average person I meet.
My perspective on how a meaningful difference in the world is made has changed. In 2016 I was calling politicians for an hour every day on livestream to protest this or that conservative bill. Now i'm an anarchist with minimal regard for electoral politics or any formal institutions. I did vote for Brandon Johnson though.
But by far the piece that least reflects my current understanding of things is one from 2020 called "Against Community." But that one was never meant to be a prescription for how people should live their lives. It was just a description of where I was at emotionally, having watched multiple friend groups disintegrate over abuse, triangulation, and bad boundaries. I'm glad I don't have to feel that way now. It was the growth after that experience that led to my revelation that communities are just relationships you build, and keep building, not static places you find.
On the whole I am less angry now, less dogmatic, less inclined to believe that electoral work matters or that posting is activism, less hellbent on making everybody agree with me, more comfortable with mourning, more radical, more patient, less grandiose and less hung up on what other people think of me. Despite all that i am still a very arrogant angry neurotic stressed out self superior insecure person.
Thanks for this great question. When I hold fake interviews with myself in the shower, it's being asked things like this that I fantasize about.
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morgana-ren · 1 year
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Bailey, Leighton, both weak spots for me. If you wanted to share any thoughts, any lewd disgusting thoughts or random ideas you'd had about those two I'm more than willing to listen
Oho-ho, you came to the right place.
So here's the thing:
Bailey and Leighton are both absolutely repugnant, reprehensible characters. Most people in this game are abhorrent, yes, but these ones strike a special note with me for a few reasons, namely authority-- and the abuse of it.
Bailey's label is 'Caretaker.' He's the closest thing to a father that you have, presumably raising you since before you can remember. He's a dark mirror into what a parent should be. Where there should be unconditional love, affection, and trust, he provides exploitation, cruelty, and despair. He has absolutely zero qualms with quite literally selling you and your fellows to the debauched denizens of the town and subjecting you to one of the worst experiences that a human can physically go through, and he does it on a dime. Even other terrifying people in town seem petrified by him, and that should give a clue to how awful he really is.
Leighton is the 'Headmaster.' He is charged with your education and safety during the mandatory hours you attend his institution. He is arguably responsible for the success and the happy-ever-after of every student under his charge. Instead, he uses this power to sexually exploit the defenseless people under his care. There are multiple people over town with lingering trauma from his actions, including Daryll, and even Mickey, who has become a paranoid recluse largely in part to these actions, and has you get rid of the evidence of this abuse.
It makes these two particularly disturbing. Remy, Briar, all of the rest of them are disgusting, but they aren't beholden to you in any manner. I suppose it could be argued that Harper, as your GP, is also doing this, but it doesn't quite feel to the same degree to me.
Now, in reality, I can be counted on to be a thorn in the side of any authority figure. I have a real issue with it, and I do not like being controlled or told what to do.
In a sexual sense though?
Listen, something in my brain must've gotten twisted up along the way to adulthood because nothing gets my engine going quite like someone abusing authority. Fucked up to say, perhaps, but it is what it is. Maybe it's part of being the world's biggest brat, but who knows.
There is something enticing and utterly terrifying about it.
Bailey has access to you at your most vulnerable. It is only through him that you have a roof over your head, food to eat, and a bed to sleep in. He's a stern man who brooks no argument. You could say he's mostly the main antagonist; the one keeping you from any semblance of peace or happiness in this town by seeking you out and keeping you on a leash that he's got firmly wrapped around his hand. He isn't openly lustful-- quite the opposite, in fact. He probably has a 'I will not fuck my ward, I will not fuck my ward' mantra he repeats in his head.
Your presence is required at school, and Leighton will use any and all opportunities to exploit that, and he isn't shy about telling you. While not as much of an active antagonist as Bailey, he certainly is as evil. He seems to revel in using his position to meet his own.. uh.. "ends" and you aren't his only target in doing so.
Bailey is more difficult to provoke than Leighton. It requires a high ass seduction check to even get into the position of seducing him, and even higher skills to get him off. He wants to see you first and foremost as a cheque to be cashed, and he makes a point not to muddy his hands in the goods if he can help it. However, if you squint, all the signs are there that he isn't immune to your siren's call.
When you call, he comes running. Scream in the bathroom? Oh, he's fuckin' there. Disappear for a little bit too long? He seeks you out. You're a grown ass adult and his method of punishment is... bending you over his desk to spank you? If you do manage to seduce him, I think he lets a bit more slip than he actually intends to, saying things like "You've always belonged to me" and other possessive sentiments (most especially if you lose your virginity to him) that sort of give away that he's clearly thought about this more than once and is seriously going to indulge now that he finally has you.
Leighton on the other hand? Leighton wears his lust on his sleeve.
If you step foot in the brothel (whether to work there or just to get yourself a shiny fake ID,) Leighton is fuckin' quick on the draw to grab you, which tells me he's had his eye on you for a while. If you proceed to work at the brothel, he hires you the moment he sees you. Annoy him for even a second at school? It's spanking time. Be a little bit of a rascal at school? Get your tits out and lather 'em up! You're washing his car while he watches and twitches because he can't openly attack you here. Try to defend Sydney and say you'll take a part of the punishment? My man practically crawls out of his skin right then and there.
He has a high level of self-control, but it is easily possible to drive that man up a wall with the right actions, and it's pretty apparent from the get-go that he has his sights set on you in less than appropriate ways. Thing is, he really won't act outright similar to Bailey. He's more a voyeur than anything, preferring to watch and document rather than actually take part. It seems like a control thing for me, and also probably so he has dirt on everyone else while keeping his own hands relatively clean, but like with most things, I bend parts of the character in my mind to suit my tastes.
They're both difficult to outright seduce. They're both controlling, hideous fiends that abuse their vulnerable charges. They're monsters. Powerful monsters capable of foul, dastardly things.
Can you imagine being the weak point of that monster?
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pinkydevil16 · 2 years
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Can u do a one shot where you continue the part aemond x reader p.11 where aemond do not enter so reader was alone with aegon and they have sex and then he reveal information about her family, it would have been really interesting just to see another part of the story but this don't get in the way of the original story
If you've read pt 11 the first part of this is in that chapter then carried on:
!THIS IS NOT APART OF THE STORY! This was a request. I think this is more dub/con?
Y/n crept out from her room, having snuck past Aemond although she had been terrified of being caught, now she was out she stuck close to the walls. As she approached the hall she let her cloak fall onto the floor, showing her green dress with a wide shoulder neckline, a black gem sitting on her breasts drawing the eye. This was maybe her worst idea she could have but she needed answers. Aegon sat upon his throne, one of his servants on her knees in front of him, his head thrown back in pleasure opening his eyes to see his Niece standing before him. He moaned loudly holding the poor girl against him whilst keeping eye contact with the younger girl. 
"Leave and clean yourself." He spat at the servant girl throwing her off of him, a smirk coming over his face as he looked upon his niece. Her nerves spiking as he stared openly at her stepping up towards the throne.
"Uncle, i seek you out to have some answers. Please will you grant me peace of mind." She knelt down onto her knee, bowing her head to show submission, staying far enough away he could not touch her. She was disgusted with herself but she could not break anyone else, she had tried with Aemond but his self control was too strong to dishonour her by giving into his crude thoughts. She screwed her eyes shut and reminded herself she needed to know of her family. 
"My beautiful niece, should you not be locked away from prying eyes? I doubt my brother will be pleased at your parading yourself at such a late hour." Breathing out Y/n stood up, her posture perfect as she smiled her sweetest at the now King.
"I wished for a walk to clear my head, and i happened upon you, i do hope i did not interrupt your nightly dalliances." She clasped her hands in front of her to hide her light shaking, she regretted her plan as soon as she had seen him with the poor girl. Her uncle was a deprived man who had no morals towards his family nor people. 
"I would say you being here sped along my dalliances if anything Niece, is there a reason you have come to me for answers? And not your betrothed?" Aegon enjoyed watching her squirm as she fought the disgust at his words, looking up at him with wide eyes she took a small step up towards him. Swallowing the bile in her throat as she spoke to him.
"My King, i request knowledge on my family, i have been for weeks now and there has been no word of my family. I understand you are at war but i just request to know if my family have been seen." Aegon held out his hand to Y/n, raising his eyebrow when she did not take it.
"Come closer and i will tell you what you wish to know dear Niece, i am not so cruel to keep a beautiful woman wanting." He knew his words caused her deep disgust but could not revel in it, she had been the one thing Aemond had restricted from him. Nodding Y/n approached him, slowly placing her hand in his as she was dragged forward, her body bent over the throne, her hands on his shoulder as he relaxed back into the metal. His hand moving upwards to her shoulder, his grip tightening.
"How much does your family mean to you Y/n? How far are you willing to go to know they are safe? How far would you go to save your mother? Your brothers perhaps." Her hands shook as he continued to touch her, his hand now on her hip, caressing her waist as he debated what he wanted most. 
"I love my family more than anything, i would do anything to keep them safe. I just wish to know if they are alive." Her voice shook, Aegon's hand dropped to her thigh, dragging her closer until she was sat on his lap. She could feel him stirring beneath her, his trousers still undone from his previous engagement.
"Remove your dress." Aegon commanded, his hands already pulled the green garment up to her hips, his hands gripping her soft flesh. Y/n let out a shaky breath, pulling the dress over the head, a thin slip barely hiding her body from him. Her nipples hardening from the cold, the cool metal of the iron throne on her naked knees. 
"Are you still a maiden Y/n?" The girl nodded, afraid to speak as Aegon ripped her slip off her body. His body lounging back on the throne to take in her untouched body.
"You are stunning Niece, no wonder my brother chose you." At the mention of Aemond Y/n froze, Aegon chuckled forcing her to lay on top of him.
"I've chosen my price, i will tell you everything i know." His harsh grip on her chin hurting as he kissed her. His hand reaching down to pull his hard cock out his trousers, hitting against her thigh.
"Climb on top and fuck yourself on my cock. If you want information you'll have to earn it. But don't worry dear Niece i'm not cruel, i'll help you." Aegon smiled smugly at the girl, she had expected him to ask for much less. His hand delved between her thighs, she was already wet making him chuckle, he place hid thumb on her clit and sunk two fingers into her. She whimpered in pain.
"If you want it to feel better i would move if i were you." Y/n refused to look at him, placing her hand on his shoulders she moved, the pain fading after a few different movements. She didn't know how she was meant to make it feel better, she had not been told anything if this kind. Aegon became agitated as she moved awkwardly, scared to hurt herself more. Grasping her hip he pushed her down, her eyes screwing shut as a moan escaped her. His hand guided her to grind and bounce on his hand, slowing adding a third. 
"There you are Niece, now lift yourself up and i shall line you up nicely for me." Y/n nodded, the wet sound of his hand being moved disgusting her. She saw his cock underneath her, Aegon's hand pushed her roughly onto him. Y/n let out a cry, her body collapsing onto him, her head on his shoulder. His wet hand coming to his mouth to taste. 
"Now now niece, bounce or i'll take back my generous offer." Tears formed in her eyes as she lifted herself, his hand roughly pulling her face from shoulder to watch her face. His smirk not leaving as he watched her bounce, the wet sound filling the throne room. Fisting his shirt she ground on him between bounces, a warmth growing in her belly as she did. Aegon could see her holding in her noises of pleasure, roughly thrusting up into her, a loud moan ripping past her as he did. 
"You are squeezing me well niece, such a perfect fuck." He spoke thrusting into her, her head dropping as she shook, the warmth in her belly exploding. Whimpering bis name as she came. Her insides clenching around him Aegon groaned pumped into her quicker before letting go. Y/n had been out of it, over stimulated from her release but she felt it. She felt him inside of her, painting her insides. 
"No." She whispered as she realised why he'd done it. Trying to get off him however she was forced to stay on him, a cry coming out as she felt him beginning to harden again inside. 
"Now Niece, you keep bouncing whilst i tell you what you want to know."
how do people feel about this fic? It's a lot darker than what i've been writing so would love to hear people's opinions on it :)
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devildomdisaster · 3 years
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How do demon brothers react to MC's pet rat that is named Barbatos?
Mc has a pet rat named Barbatos
Gender-neutral reader. Mc brings a new pet back to the house of lamentation. A rat named Barbatos.
Content warnings: None that I know of
Lucifer:
Lucifer is oh so disapproving. He gives you his standard warning glare when you present your pet rat to him.
“Luci, this is Barbatos.” You grin holding the rat up to Lucifer.
“You shouldn't be so brazen as to make fun of a demon, Mc.”
He’d make you get rid of it, except he can see how attached you are to your pet. “You may keep it if-”
“I wasn’t asking permission, Lucifer.” You glare.
He just sighs “Keep it in your room Mc, we wouldn’t want Barbatos to see him and go on another cleaning spree to get rid of your pet.”
Despite his disapproval, Lucifer is secretly quite amused.
And when you have the audacity to introduce Barbatos to rat Barbatos he has to leave the room to hide his laughter at Barbatos’s horrified face.
Mammon:
When you introduce Mammon to your pet rat he cackles. “You-you named him Barbatos?!” He gasps between fits of laughter. “Man Mc, you’re more demonic than I thought.”
Mammon would love to put rat Barbatos in his hamster ball while Barbatos is in the house of lamentation. Or better yet, the next time he visits the castle so that Barbatos is distracted enough for Mammon to steal something valuable.
He would never actually do it though. He can see how much you care about your pet and doesn’t want to put him in any danger.
He will beg you to introduce your rat to Barbatos though. And when you do Mammon is nearly in tears from laughter at Barbatos's reaction.
Levi:
Levi doesn’t even realize you have a pet rat until he hears you say you have to clean Barbatos’s cage. He stares at you in shock “M-mc, did you just?... Do you actually? How in the three realms did you get Barbatos in a cage?!?” What the hell kind of weird role play are you into? He doesn’t connect the dots until you come back into the hall with a hamster ball, place it in his hands and ask him to watch Barbatos until you finish cleaning his cage. Oh, Barbaros is your pet rat.
Levi actually feels a little bad for Demon Barbatos. He knows it’s just a joke but...Mc, you know how much he hates rats. It’s not that he doesn’t find it funny, it’s just that he hopes you won’t take the joke too far. And worries that Barbatos might ‘remove’ your pet if he finds it.
Despite his worries, Levi has to fight a smile when you happen to have rat Barbatos out of his cage when Diavolo and Barbatos visit. Demon Barbatos has backed himself into a corner as far away from you as possible and is looking at you in absolute horror as you coo at and hold your pet.
Satan:
Satan Loves the irony. “Please tell me you did this on purpose.” Satan has an absolutely wicked side, and he isn’t afraid to indulge it every once in a while. In his mind, a few harmless little pranks involving Barbatos having to interact with you and rat Barbatos is an opportunity too good to miss.
Satan might be more of a cat fan, but he has no problem with rats. He’ll hold him without any hesitation and even builds him little obstacle courses and mazes.
He just so happens to have built rat Barbatos a maze on the living room coffee table on a day when he knew Diavolo and Barbatos would be visiting the house of lamentation. Barbatos walks in just as rat Barbatos is happily munching on the first of many treats in the maze. Barbatos nearly screams when he sees you and Satan laughing and encouraging a rat. Satan actually has to excuse himself for a few minutes in order to get control of his laughter.
Asmo:
“That's simply cruel, darling.” Asmo chides, although he has a wicked gleam in his eyes as he says so.
He isn’t exactly pleased that you have a pet rat… He isn’t afraid of rats, it’s just that he associates them with being unclean.
Asmo is openly amused that you’ve named your rat Barbatos. He wants to see Barbatos’s reaction to the rat so he invites Barbatos to your room just to see his reaction to your pet.
While he doesn’t want the rat in his room, Asmo is strangely enchanted by your pet running on the wheel in his cage or in a hamster ball in your room. Eventually, he gets over how gross rats are, or more like rat Barbatos becomes the exception to the rule. Asmo will use his powers to enchant your pet and teach him tricks. It's not unusual to find Asmo cooing at rat Barbatos while feeding him bits of carrot or other treats.
Beel:
“Mc, don’t you know how much Barbatos hates rats? I don’t think it’s a good idea to name your new pet after him.”
“But he already responds to Barbatos. Don’t you, boy,” the rat squeaks in response to you. Beel shrugs.
Beel doesn't want Barbatos to think your pet is a wild rat and try to get rid of it. So he secretly warns Barbatos about the rat so he isn’t so shocked when he sees it.
Beel shares his healthier snacks with rat Barbatos. When giving him new food, Beel always checks with you to make sure it is safe to give to him.
Belphie:
Belphie actually likes your new pet. “Man Mc, you must be pretty brave to name a rat after Barbatos,” Belphie laughs when you introduce him to your new pet.
Despite finding the whole situation hilarious, Belphie warns you to keep your pet away from Barbatos. “It’s for his own safety,” he says, “If Barbatos finds a rat in the house of lamentation he’ll try to eradicate it. I don’t know if he’d wait long enough to find out it is a pet, not a wild rat.”
If Barbatos ever does meet his rat counterpart Belphie will revel in the chaos. But he doesn't want to risk you being sad if something happens to your pet, so he won't encourage such a situation to happen.
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genshinboys · 3 years
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Thigh job with Genshin boys - Zhongli
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Genre: Smut
Pairing: Fem reader x Zhongli
Knock-Knock-Knock
You are standing in front of the door to Zhongli’s office at the Wangsheng Funeral Parlour. Upon knocking, you open the door and peek inside only to see the Archon seated at his desk and hunching over some documents. His form relaxes the moment his eyes cast upon your persona.
„Can I come in?” you ask politely knowing very well that Zhongli would never be capable of saying no to you.
He puts aside the pen that was previously tightly squeezed in the palm of his hands. Eyes glistening and his facial expression a tell-tale sign of excitement which he promptly attempts to hide going back to the customary for him calm facade.
Immovable as a rock and yet his world was shaken the moment you waltzed into it.
Zhongli doesn’t mind though and he revels in the way you made everything the Archon thought he knew to go to rack and ruin.
So, he finds himself inviting you and wreaking more havoc in his hitherto impassive and emotionless millenniums of existence.
„Oh, by all means, please do,” he responds courtly. He straightens up in his armchair gesturing to his lap.
You smile knowingly.
Zhongli but adores having you in his lap. The way your soft body fits in there is glorious and the lord of Geo could narrate hundreds of stories about the marvel of you being sat on his thigh tightly pressed into his sturdy physique.
It is his way of unwinding after a long day or taking a break from work. He would find solace and relaxation with you next to him. It becomes habitual and it just occurs naturally. When he sips his tea, scans through documents, reads a book or wants to tell you some of the stories from his past. You sit on his lap and everything falls into place.
He loves the control this setting gives him and the fact that he can easily do whatever he deems fit when your body is conveniently at his disposal.
And you wouldn’t say no. Whatever his intentions are.
So you come over to the handsome god and with a loud scoff unceremoniously land on his lap while wrapping your arms around his neck.
„What’s the matter my dearest?” he furrows his brows but the little crooked smile doesn’t escape your notice. Zhongli can’t help himself, he thinks that you’re just too adorable and pure for this world.
„Oh, Zhongli!” you cry out, „That little bastard Venti stood m-,”
He clears his throat and gives you a reprimanding glare, „Language my little girl.”
You roll your eyes at his antics and wiggle your butt successfully shifting your position so that your whole weight is now on Zhongli’s right thigh and your legs are hanging in the air on the other side of the armchair. He wraps a protective arm around your middle while his free hand starts caressing your uncovered leg, so nicely exposed by the skirt of your choice.
So once you feel all snug and comfortable you continue dramatically, „Zhongli, but he really stood me up! I needed his help with one commission and I found him as drunk as a skunk. He was so sloshed he fell asleep in the tavern and Kaeya had to escort him home!”
„Is that so?” he cocks an eyebrow but he isn’t surprised at all.
„Yes! I wasted so much time because of this motherf-,”
Zhongli shoots you another look of disapproval and you just smile apologetically.
„He’s never been good at holding his liquor, my Dear,” he states the obvious more preoccupied with the way the plump flesh of your thighs reddens when he squeezes it with his leather-clad hand. He allows himself to roam a bit higher and the skirt does little to prevent his movement.
„Dear,” he says as his lips approach your earlobe, „Have you by any chance forgotten to put on underwear yet again?”
You really love Zhongli’s voice. His low rumbles, deep and husky sounds from the back of his throat always give you goosebumps.
And so this time, you shudder in his embrace like a leaf in the wind.
„No, of course I didn’t,” you respond in your defence.
„Mind if I see?” he asks and pushes your skirt out of the way revealing your naked bum.
He clicks his tongue, feeling you up with his long fingers. The gloves he is wearing create nice friction as he strokes your skin.
„I might have forgotten after all,” you admit even if reluctantly.
Zhongli is a patient man. Throughout the centuries he has learned to remain cool and composed despite the most arduous and trying of times. He would have never guessed that this quality of his would so often come in handy when graced with your presence.
„Pray-tell my Dearest, so you did come here, parading around the streets of my city with no decency in your soul left, only to sit in my lap with your bare bottom?”
This question sounded more like an accusation and was rather rhetorical.
You shrug your shoulders for lack of any better excuse.
The archon takes a deep breath and digs his fingers into the meat of your ass.
„You enjoyed yourself last time, no?” you make a point to remind the lord of Geo of your last visit to his office.
„So vulgar,” he criticizes gazing down and marvelling how your smooth skin contrasts with the material of his black slacks. You would often stain them with your juices when the Archon opts for something more than just telling you stories with you in his lap.
„I trust you know what to do, Love,” he adds once again locking his eyes with yours and then kisses your forehead fondly.
You chuckle having no intentions to make the god wait any longer.
You let your hands slide down to his crotch and unbuckle the belt helping Zhongli get his erection out of the tight black slacks. At times like this, you would internally curse the Archon for his strict dress code but it can’t be helped. Zhongli is as stubborn as a mule when it comes to certain customs.
His cock springs free and you bite your lip openly admiring the ex-Archon. It never ceases to thrill you. His shaft is thick and painfully long with popping veins and a swollen tip. He is just so enormously big it intimidates you. You briefly wonder if it has anything to do with him being a half-dragon and you shudder at the thought mentally taking a note to ask him about that next time he places you in his lap.
Zhongli’s heartbeat quickens when you teasingly stroke his impressive girth, your lips finding his and you crash them together hungrily.
He hums in delight when you slide your thumb over the tip of his penis. You break the kiss and flash a cute grin at your immortal lover.
„I want to please you with my thighs,” you inform him matter-of-factly at which he nods somehow too quickly to match his typical indifferent attitude.
„You spoil me, my little one,” he praises in an erotic timbre and his eyes widen when you lift yourself from his lap and turn around.
„Hold my waist, will you?” you ask for some assistance placing your hands on both sides of the chair.
„Certainly, so,” he obliges.
So with some help on his side, you elevate your bum and reach for his hardened cock to delicately insert it between your warm-to-the-touch thighs. Experimentally, you lift yourself up and then push down letting his erection slide between your legs in a smooth motion. You make sure to smudge the leaking pre-cum all over his shaft so that the Archon doesn’t feel any discomfort.
„How does that feel Zhongli?” you ask glancing behind your back only to see his already fucked-out stare which makes your chest swell in adoration.
His lips are parted and eyes half-closed as he holds onto your waist the way you asked him to.
„Absolutely marvellous, my Dear. Please, do continue, hmm?” he encourages albeit struggles to reply.
You carry on stroking him like that, sometimes pressing your thighs a little tighter and he groans as quiet as he possibly can. Zhongli would despise being caught by Hu-Tao when you rub his cock so expertly.
The pace you decide to torture Zhongli with is sickeningly slow and he’s had enough of playing around for today.
You let out a muffled cried when the Archon grabs you even tighter and forces you down on his dick. He repeats the motion in an animalistic tempo taking pride in the way your ass bounces up and down in front of his eyes.
„Zhongli!” you plead as you feel your legs going numb.
„Bear with me a little longer, Love” he coos.
Your whole body hurts and your arms feel as if they were going to give out any moment.
Fortunately, Zhongli isn’t going to last much longer as the pleasure mixed with pain make him approach the brink he so much desires. With one final thrust and a guttural moan he releases and you can feel his hot load on the inner side of your thighs. Some drops of cum land on your lower belly and face. It’s so messy and you feel how your walls contract around nothing in feverish excitement.
He helps you go back to your previous position with his arms now tightly wrapped around your exhausted body. He enjoys the slight twitching of your weary muscles. He reaches for your chin and forces you to face him.
„Home?” you ask in a desperate plea for him to return the favour. Your body aching for his touch.
„Home,” Zhongli agrees, as indeed, the Archon is unable to turn down any of your wishes.
Other boys:
Albedo
Xiao
Diluc
Kaeya
Childe
Kazuha
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acanthodii-phobia · 3 years
Note
hey sorry if this is so sudden but i’ve been feeling so down lately and can i just get the turtles comfort reader (they/them pls) bc they think they can’t do anything right? rottmnt as well pls
Of course! :) And I'm sorry you haven't been in the best place recently.. I hope the turtles and I can help ease your thoughts a little. Things will get better, and many things in your life will change over time - the bad is only temporary that way, even if it doesn't feel like it. Right now you're at your strongest, and I now you can and will get through it!
We believe in you. 🐢🐢🐢🐢
(RoTTMNT) Comfort Oneshots X GenderNeutral!Reader PT. 1
Each turtle bro. will focus on something a little different, but overall still what you requested. I hope that's alright. ^^ These are slightly longer than my other posts, so these oneshots will be split amongst two posts. Leo and Raph are in pt. 1, Donnie and Mikey are in pt. 2!
Content Warning: The topics discussed won't go into graphic detail, but if you feel like you would get upset by reading about topics dealing with depression or negative thoughts, please do not read for your own care.
One-shots will contain:
Y/N - Your Name
Leo:
[Comfort for feeling inadequate, worthless, uneeded & request.]
- They were crying in Leo's bedroom.
- The perfect place, they thought, for some time away from everyone. Y/N knew they were supposed to just be enjoying themselves and having fun; but they couldn't stop that irritating feeling.
- Those reoccurring thoughts of not being needed. Or wanted. The possibility of screwing everything up, and losing everyone they cared about... and it would've just been a waste of their time. Y/N just wasting everyone's time.
- The last thing they wanted was to bring down everyone's night only because of the terrible mood they were in.
- So here they were. Tucked away in the corner of Leo's bed, hugging a pillow and crying. In the dark. While the others were out there completely clueless.
- At least, that's what Y/N thought.
- Leo comes in a few minutes later searching for Y/N, while making unintentionally insensitive and boastful comments about him being better (nothing directed specifically at Y/N, though).
- Hearing Leo's comments makes Y/N cry more, and the moment he sees them he immediately rushes to their side, trying to comfort them and apologising profusely.
- He had a full grin before, expecting Y/N to reply back with another joke, but seeing them like this hurt him in a way he hadn't really felt before.
- "Hey, hey," he reaches out and holds Y/N face. He doesn't force them to look at him though - he just wants them to know he's there. "I'm so sorry, please don't cry. You know... you're just as good of a player as I am - I didn't realise you were taking Mario Monopoly so seriously."
- They shake their head, breathing deeply as they try to calm down.
- "I'm not upset over Monopoly, Leon, but thank you."
- He's confused. "Then... then why are you crying?"
- "I've just been having a lot of... uh, negative thoughts recently."
- Y/N explains how they feel inferior to him and his brothers, but specifically to Leo. They see Leo as this 'flawless, charming, and a jack-of-all-trades' kind of guy. Even though he can be occasionally rude without realising it, he's still so loved by his family and friends.
- "You're just," their breath is shaky as they push their hair back. "...so perfect. You do everything right, and even the times when you do mess up... no one hates you. I feel like I can't do anything right - I'm awkward and can't tell my left from right occasionally. You're important and valued by those who care about you, you're talented and..."
- "...I feel like I can't compete. I'm nothing like that, and I'm so envious of you." Y/N confesses, wiping their face with their sleeve.
- Leo is stunned - he didn't know they felt like this at all. His eyes never leave Y/N - his hands slowly drifting from their face - contemplating on his next move.
- He's not really 'good' at this sort of thing, but because it's Y/N, he wants to do more than just listen. Leo cautiously takes hold of the pillow that Y/N was gripping onto, and places it beside him.
- Leo then pulls Y/N closer to him, hugging them tightly.
- "You're valued by me," he whispers to them. "What you can or can't do... doesn't define your worth. Nothing can really define that. You existing and doing your best is worth enough." Leo leans back and smiles reassuringly. "...And I mess up a lot, too. I'm imperfect just like you, and that is always okay. And you know I'm never wrong~"
- He chuckles as he presses his forehead against Y/N's, reaching up slightly so his snout touches their nose and rubs them together affectionately. Y/N smiles.
- "Thanks... Leon."
Raph:
[Comfort for feeling insecure about vulnerability, thinking they should be stronger/ move on & request.]
- Y/N was watching Raph train in the dojo, admiring his strength and skills from the sideline, perched ontop of some extra mats. They had to admit, that despite his size he was very nimble and fairly noiseless on his feet. His brute force was more than expected, though.
- The guy's built like a tank - It's a very dangerous combo.
- But compared to him, Y/N was pretty clusmy and much weaker than him.
- They do their best to ignore the thoughts that come to their mind, but it was of no use. They weren't strong enough to protect themselves, nevertheless them... what were they supposed to do if they needed Y/N's help? They felt inferior to him.
- But Y/N keeps smiling as Raph shows off.
- However, he caught on quickly - he's able to tell that Y/N's smile isn't 100% genuine. He stops what he's doing immediately and faces them.
- "Hey, Shorty. You got somethin' on your mind?"
- Y/N is caught off guard. "Oh, uh... no. It's nothing."
- Raph looks at them doubtfully. "Are you sure?"
- They nod, denying it in fear of being vulnerable and being shunned away for saying otherwise. Raph gives them one last look before going back to his training.
- Eventually, Y/N quietly retreats from the dojo and runs just a bit outside of the lair to clear their mind. Everything is good for a moment, but they soon start hyperventilating and panicking.
- "What am I doing? Gosh, you look so stupid right now, why can't you control yourself? Calm down... breathe, breathe, breathe, breathe you idiot." They grip onto their shirt, breathing deeply, but it only works them up more.
- It wasn't long until it became difficult to breathe - their chest was tight and their lungs felt shriveled up and blocked off, like they just couldn't get any air in no matter how hard they tried. Tears start falling down their face.
- Raph tracks them down quickly, thanks to his brothers. Deep down, he knew Y/N needed someone right now. Anyone.
- But he really wants it to be him.
- "No, no, you guys just stay here! Everything's fine, I just need to find them. We'll back in a minute!"
- The moment he sees Y/N, his heart stops. There's a deep, weirdly empty feeling of dread that washes over him. He runs to their side without another thought, and does his best to guide them through it. He holds their hands in his, and rubs the back of them with his thumbs, whispering to them.
- "Y/N... it's okay. It's okay." He lets go of one their hands and holds the side of their face. "You're doing great... can you try some breathing exercises with me? Everything will be okay, I promise."
- They're still gripping onto their chest, crying, heaving deeply and erratically as Raph asks this, but the only thing Y/N does is nod.
- "Good," he assures them, smiling. "Now... do your best to follow me, okay? First, pinch your nose and close your mouth, bite your lip if you have to. You're going to hold your breath for a few seconds to start."
- "Perfect - you're doing great, Y/N! Now, breathe in deep through your mouth," Raph does it with them, nodding. "Good, and release through your nose."
- Once Y/N was back to a regular breathing, Raph asks them to explain what was going on, and he wasn't going to take "nothing" as an answer this time.
- Y/N stares up at him, wiping their tear-soaked face, and reluctantly states that they were scared of Raph seeing them being weak and vulnerable, and wanted to be seen as "cool" and strong like Raph is.
- "I didn't want you to hate me..." they lower their head, avoiding as much eye contact as possible. Almost immediately, they start panicking again. "Wait, oh gosh," they heave in deeply as they try to focus on anything, raising their arms instinctively - their surroundings blurring together as their mind races. "No, I'm sorry... you can't see me like this, I'm going to mess things up again like I always do, I-" Y/N tries to run away as the tears build up again, but Raph grabs their arm and pulls them back.
- "Y/N".
- He is very, very gentle with them, talking to them in a low voice. But he wasn't going to let them keep running off and avoiding him.
- "Please look at me." They try, with some struggle. "You are not messing anything up. It is okay to cry, to be vulnerable, and openly express how you feel. I'm... worried to find out who made you scared like this. You don't ever deserve to feel like that, Y/N.
- And you are strong, Y/N - your worth is never going to be based on how much you can lift or break with your fists. Your strength may or may not be in physical strength, but you being here with me - right now - your existence proves you are strong," He brings them into a hug, embracing them snugly. "In a lot of ways, that is much stronger than any physical strength I have, and I am so proud of you."
- He holds their head against him, reveling in the feeling of having them so close to him. He closes his eyes, gently leaning some of his weight onto them.
- "Thank you, Raph."
Thank you for requesting. :) I hope you enjoyed!
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lancermylove · 3 years
Text
Geostigma (Oneshot)
Fandom: FFVII
Pairing: Rufus x fem!Reader
Warning: None
Requested by: Anon
Prompt: Ff7 Rufus oneshot request please!!! ACRufus with geostigma. He was once high and mighty but now is a hot shot president who’s fallen from grace. He’s really sick with geostigma (not terminally but needs to act like it is). Scenario of the girl he’s been secretly pining over volunteering at the recovery unit he’s staying at. He’s super conflicted because he wants to talk to her but at the same time doesn’t want her to see him like this. He also doesn’t want to expose his identity as shinras president and doesn’t want to lie to her pretending to be terminally ill with geostigma even though he is legimately suffering from it. What do you think??? Hope this works and makes sense!!! All good if you can’t do it though!!!
A/N: Anon, this was one of the most challenging pieces I’ve written. Keeping Rufus in character while showing his soft side was an enjoyable challenge, so tysm for sending in this request! 😁 I really hope you like it~. 
Word Count: 1967
———————————————
In this place, status didn't matter - the rich, poor, females, males, old, young, and kids were all suffering in equal agony. The stigma didn't discriminate. Shinra had grown tired of seeing the same view every day. White walls, white beds, white machines - who chose this design? He couldn't have been more thankful for the hooded cloak, as the darkness had never felt so comforting. For the longest time, the president only saw the world in two colors, white of the recovery bay and black within his hood. That is until you came around and added color to his colorless world.
After losing a dear friend to the stigma, you became a volunteer at that facility. You had seen your friend suffering and wanted to help others, even if it means only making them smile. Though that may not seem much, you knew a smile meant the world to a person who was suffering. For the longest time, Rufus watched you, curious as to why you wanted to volunteer, considering most volunteers were older men or women and military personnel. You seemed like nothing less than a rose in the middle of a battlefield.
Slowly, he noticed the change in the recovery bay - the atmosphere seemed a lot brighter, even more so than the blinding whiteness of the room. Was it your effect? You brought thoughtful gifts for your patients, made them feel comfortable, and gave them the energy to push through their pain. Were people really like this or were you just an angel?
In Shinra's world, the word kindness didn't exist. His father taught him to control the world with money, but he changed money to fear. After observing you, he realized that even kindness could control the emotions of people. The blond-haired man chuckled to himself - what a twisted way to look at a positive emotion. He was sure if you heard his thoughts, you would hate him.
"Hm?" Shinra was surprised at his revelation. Why did he care what you thought about him? Never once in his life had he cared for what people thought about him - had he cared, he would not have committed such nefarious deeds. How peculiar.
That night as everyone slept, Shinra pushed his wheelchair to the only window in the large room. Though there were no visible stars, the moon shone proudly through a veil of ominous clouds. Rufus wasn't sure why he was having such a difficult time sleeping. Was it the constant throbbing from the infected area, or was it due to the heavy yet sweet pain weighing down on his chest?
"You are still awake?" He heard a shaky voice coming from the bed on his right. The voice belonged to the oldest patient in the room - the man that didn't much time left in this accursed world. 
Shinra didn't reply, prompting the man to continue talking, "Seems like something is bothering you."
"Tell me, have you felt an indescribable feeling that is troublesome yet pleasant?"
The elderly man laughed softly and turned his body towards the wheelchair, "That feeling is generally associated with love."
"I don't have the luxury to love," his dry chuckle echoed inside his hood. "I hail from a world where I am cursed to sit on a throne, surrounded by naught by darkness."
"Child, no one lives in a world like that."
Shinra turned his head slightly in the direction of the man and said, "You would not say such words if you knew my identity."
"You are Rufus Shinra," the old man mumbled under his breath, not wanting any prying ears to hear. "I never agreed with your methods or ways. I also blame your company for harming the Lifestream as well as the people."
He paused for a moment and exhaled softly, "Sitting on a lonely throne surrounded by the dark was your choice. The only way to get rid of the darkness is to open the curtain and let the light flood inside. Take some advice from an experienced old man: love while you have the chance. I know this sounds cliche, but there is nothing better than being with the person you love. Nothing will bring you more joy, not money, manipulation, and sitting on an expensive throne."
"Seems as though you have loved before."
The white-haired man closed his eyes and forced a smile, "I did but never told her. I left gifts and notes for her, and by the time I gathered enough courage, it was too late. She was engaged to someone else."
Shinra didn't need to look at the man to know he was in pain. Another sigh escaped his quivering lips as the he continued his tale, "I eventually got married and was lucky to have a kind wife. Though I learned to love her, I was not able to fully give my heart to her. That is the only regret I have. If only I could tell her how I felt about her..."
"Where is she?" Rufus asked, unsure as to why he was interested in the man's story.
"Somewhere far away," he promptly replied and changed the topic. "Mr. President, give that young woman you love a chance. Even if she rejects you, you won't regret hiding your feeling."
"Would any woman wish to be with a man in my current state?"
"She won't mind, especially if you manage to win her heart. Besides, she is a kind woman, and if she was the type to judge, then she would not be here helping us," he chuckled, knowingly.
Shinra laughed, not caring if his voice woke the others, "You are quite a sharp man."
The old male grinned, "Now, get some rest, and let this aged man sleep."
The following day, as Rufus debated whether or not to tell you, he heard rushing footsteps of the doctors and nurses. Within a few minutes, numerous people gathered around the elderly man's bed - the same man he had a conversation with the previous night. Silence filled the entire room, except for the occasional beeping of the heart monitors.
Shinra watched from under his hood as one of the doctors pulled a white sheet over the man's face before transporting his body out on a stretcher.
"Rest well, old man," he whispered, letting the words disappear into the darkness of his hood.
You dragged yourself into the room with a heavy heart. It didn't take a genius to deduce the reason behind your downcast mood. Rufus quietly watched you trying your best to smile and cheer up the other patients. When you came to check on him, he observed you for a moment before taking hold of your hand. "It's alright to be sad."
You stared at him speechlessly, not only surprised that he saw through your façade but also because this was the first time he spoke to you. Averting your eyes, you whispered in a drained voice, "I can't let the others see me sad."
"I care not for the others...only you."
Your eyes widened by his unexpected words. "W-Why?"
Rufus stayed silent for a bit as he recalled his conversation with the old man.
"Mr. President, give that young woman you love a chance. Even if she rejects you, you won't regret hiding your feeling."
"Would any woman wish to be with a man in my current state?"
"She won't mind, especially if you manage to win her heart. Besides, she is a kind woman, and if she was the type to judge, then she would not be here helping us."
"I have never felt such emotions, nor have I used such words, but," he whispered gently, surprising himself, "I have not met an angel before, but now, I know what an angel would look like. I wish the angel would learn to be selfish though and think about herself once in a while."
A giggle escaped your lips, "Mister, are you flirting with you, or do you like me?"
Shinra chuckled, keeping his head down as to prevent you from seeing his face, "I am merely trying to get you to smile, and it seemed to work. Also, I do not have the luxury to like anyone."
"Why do you say that?" You asked, confused.
"You would not be asking me such a question if you knew my identity."
"Rufus Shinra? The president of the Shinra Electric Power Company?"
Rufus was speechless, an occurrence that didn’t happen often. You gently squeezed his hand to get his attention and asked once again, "Why don't you have the luxury to love?"
"Miss, take a look around you. The Shinras are responsible for this - first my father, then I. Though I possess power and money, I lack a heart," he stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
"You were trying to make me smile because I was sad, right? You empathized with me, so that means you have a heart."
Shinra chuckled, "Then let me ask, would you love a man with a dark past? A man who lacks humanity and is selfish."
"Mr. Shinra, are you asking me out?" You teased, not wanting to answer his question at that moment.
"And if I am?"
"Great. Where would you like to go?"
Under his hood, Rufus hid a rare expression - eyes wide, cheeks slightly red, and mouth ajar. Within moments, his laughter echoed through the room, surprising everyone. That was the first time in his life he has laughed openly; had you told him a year ago that one day he would laugh in such a manner, Rufus would have called you insane.
"You are truly a strange one."
You giggled in response but didn't say a word. Rufus wondered what you were silent as he couldn't see your expression from within the darkness. Bending down to his level, you cautiously brought your hands closer to him and lowered the cloth hiding his face. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him; you had heard women mentioning that Rufus was a handsome man, but you weren't expecting him to be drop-dead sexy. Shinra stared at you with a smirk as your cheeks slowly started to glow red.
"My dear, are you not feeling well? Your cheeks seem a bit too red," he teased, earning a pout from you. "Do my bandages bother you?"
"You even make the bandages look good," you absentmindedly replied. "Uh...I mean-"
Before you could retract your statement or give clarifications, Rufus sealed your lips with his. Everyone in the room started clapping and cheering the two of you on. Though you were embarrassed, a warm smile danced on your lips. As you scanned the smiling faces of all the patients in the room, Rufus stared at the empty bed by the window.
--------------------
The two of you had been together for a while, and Shinra had made a full recovery. The situation in the city was improving, all thanks to the mysterious healing rain.
"Rufus, what are we doing here?" You asked as your wrapped your hands around his arm tightened.
"It will only be a moment," he chuckled and freed his arm from your tight grip before making his way to a dilapidated tombstone. Shinra placed a bouquet of white Forget-Me-Nots in front of the grave and whispered solemnly, "These are from a man who wished to tell you that he loved you dearly. His only regret in life was not confessing his feelings to you."
"Rufus?" You asked, taken aback by his words and actions.
"My dear, do you believe in the afterlife?" He questioned curiously.
"There has to be something after death, so yes."
The corners of his lips slightly tugged up, "Then I hope the old man was able to meet her and confess his feelings."  
———————————————
➣ FFVII Masterlist ➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open || Requests: Closed
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nethandrake · 3 years
Text
keep me as your finish line.
stevetony. avengers assemble. rated t. fake/pretend relationship. 4.9k words.
for the fall backwards: an avengers assemble flash exchange hosted by @cap-ironman and @ishipallthings
also on ao3.
*****
Like most shenanigans of this sort, it happens on a Tuesday.
“—was saying! But Sam told me— Hey, what’s that?”
Tony follows Steve’s line of sight, pointed towards a small glimmer coming out from the cracks on the sidewalk. Steve edges closer, getting down on one knee to pick it up.
“What is it? A dime?”
“Nope,” Steve replies, holding his hand up. “Not even close.”
It’s a ring. It’s a pretty thing, a band of silver with a small diamond nestled in the middle.
“Why, Steven,” Tony begins teasingly, “you’re going to propose to me in the middle of a sidewalk?”
Steve’s grin widens. “Carpe diem.”
“How romantic.”
Tony’s about to drag Steve up to his feet when a flash of light stills him.
There’s a crowd gathered around them, holding out their phones and they grin manically.
“Say yes!” someone calls.
“Say what?” Tony asks.
“Say yes,” Steve replies, infuriatingly calm. “They want you to marry me.”
Tony freezes. The noise around them grows louder.
“Well, Shellhead?” Steve murmurs, his grin plastered back on. “Marry me?”
Tony should say no. He should haul Steve to his feet and tell everyone to scram, tell them that this is all a misunderstanding. He should toss the ring far, far away and make a run for it.
“Yes,” he whispers instead.
 *****
  Tony breaks the silence halfway through the elevator ride.
“Well, that was something.”
Steve chuckles. “I’m never picking a ring up ever again.”
Tony lets out a hollow laugh of his own. “The board’s going kill me.”
“No, they won’t.”
“Yes, they will,” Tony insists. “Me a part of a fake public proposal? The stocks are going to plunge, the board will be on me even more than usual, and the media—”
The media. The public.
Steve.
Oh god.
“Steve,” Tony begins, “I—”
The elevator doors open. They step into the common area.
There’s a banner that’s stuck to the ceiling with arrows that says, ‘CONGRATULATIONS ON THE ENGAGEMENT’, in block letters. Heart-shaped balloons hang from every corner of the room. Cupcakes with icing in Captain America and Iron Man colors are stacked high in the middle of the dining table.
“Surprise!” Sam cries out.
Clint whoops. Thor blows on his party horn.
Oh god. The team.
How could he forget?
“We are not telling them,” Steve murmurs.
“Yes, we will,” Tony hisses back.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Tony would’ve argued back if Hulk hadn’t gathered them both into his arms, squeezing them with his massive, massive arms.
“‘Bout time you got together,” he says cheerfully before mashing Steve and Tony’s faces together.
That’s how Steve and Tony have their first kiss.
  *****  
They don’t end up telling them.
Tony doesn’t know why they don’t. It’d make sense to. They’re all friends. They’d understand how stupid the whole thing is, even if Tony has to suffer at the hands of their teasing.
But then Thor claps Tony on the back and regales the team with every instant Steve and Tony would wax poetic about each other and Sam shoves congratulatory cookies into his face and Bruce shows up to offer his congratulations and Tony just can’t bring himself to say anything. At least not yet.
Steve is perfectly content with keeping up with the charade, sticking by Tony’s side and openly holding his hand and nuzzling his cheek and looking at Tony as if he’s his whole world.
It doesn’t make sense. Steve’s the paragon of righteousness and truth. He never lies. Why he would start doing it now, over something dumb like this? It’s beyond Tony.
“About time you kids came out with it,” Clint says between mouthfuls of cake. “Felt like you kids were taking forever to tell us.”
“Which you didn’t,” Natasha points out, arching an eyebrow.
Steve rolls his eyes, wrapping his arm around Tony’s waist and pulling him close. “We figured you guys would just hound us about it.”
“Hey, I can behave.”
“Sure you can,” Steve says before brushing his lips against Tony’s cheek.
Clint makes a retching sound. “You know what? I’m glad you guys kept it on the down-low. Don’t think I could take any form of PDA from either of you.”
God, if he only knew. If all of them only knew.
 *****
  The thing about being fake engaged while living with friends is that they have to share the same living space.
Which means sharing the same bed.
“I can take the floor,” Tony says as he exits his bathroom. “I’ve slept on worse.”
Steve’s gaze falls on him. He’s already dressed down in a tank top and shorts. Tony does his best to avert his gaze.
“Don’t be stupid. It’s big enough for the both of us.”
Tony glances at his king-sized bed with doubt.
Steve rolls his eyes and beckons him over.
Like a moth to a flame, Tony follows.
  *****  
 The next morning is total chaos.
Tony’s phone is overwhelmed with messages and missed calls. His inbox is full of lengthy emails. The press is divided. So is the board.
Fury asks to see him, to see them.
The team has gathered in the communal kitchen when Steve and Tony head down in rumpled clothes and bed hair. The grins they send them are wolfish.
“Good night?” Clint begins, waggling his eyebrows.
Steve beams, draping his arm around Tony’s shoulder. “Very good night.”
And it’s too much. Too sudden. Too everything.
So like any sane person would in this kind of situation, Tony hides.
  *****  
  Steve forces his way into the workshop on the fourth day.
“You can’t hide from me forever,” he says. “The team’s worried about you. I’m worried about you.”
Tony ignores him, fixating on the hundredth tabloid headline about him and Steve on the screen in front of him instead.
Steve closes the news with a wave of the hand. “Hey,” he says softly, “you alright?”
Tony doesn’t say anything for a long moment. “It’s a mess. The whole thing’s a mess. Imagine when everyone finds out that this is all fake. They’ll kill us.”
“Not if we stay engaged.”
Tony whips around to face Steve. “You can’t be serious.”
Steve nods, solemn. “Oh, I’m serious.”
“JARVIS, run a—”
“I’m not a Skrull,” Steve huffs. “Or an LMD. Or under the influence of magic. Or mind-controlled. I genuinely do think we should stay engaged. At least, for now.”
Tony stares at him in disbelief. “God, do you hear yourself right now? Does it make sense to—”
“Yes.” Steve pulls up the holograms again, scrolling through. “Look. Everyone’s happy—”
“Not everyone.”
“The team’s happy for us. Fury isn’t pissed for once. The stocks have been soaring since the news. If you haven’t been reading trashy tabloids and right-winged articles, you would know that a lot of people are supportive. In fact,” Steve opens a new article, “a lot of people in the LGBTQ+ community are excited. The announcement’s helped a lot of people come out, or at least be more accepting of their own identities. It’s good for the people.”
Tony exhales heavily. “I’m not saying it isn’t. God knows that everyone needs all the support they can get. It’s just that we shouldn’t. It’s not right. I may be pan but you’re—”
“I’m bi.”
Tony blinks. “You’re—”
“Bisexual,” Steve affirms.
Tony files that information away for later. He’s one step closer to having a mental breakdown and processing the revelation that Steve’s bisexual wouldn’t help matters.
“Regardless, this isn’t a life or death situation. I can deal with the company and the press and—”
“You’re my friend. I can help.”
“What if you find someone you—”
“I don’t think I will,” Steve says firmly.
“Steve, I—” Tony sighs, wiping his face with his hand. “What about the team? Shouldn’t they know?”
“The fewer people that know, the better.”
Tony blinks. “Are you crazy?”
Steve grins. “Nope.”
“Well, jury’s out on that.” Tony groans, slumping in his seat. “God, we should’ve told them it was all a misunderstanding.”
Steve smiles, squeezing Tony’s shoulder in reassurance. “It’ll all work out. You’ll see.”
Tony highly doubts that.
“You’re not going to wear someone else’s ring.”
“You can make me a new one.”
“I figured you’d say that. So, you know.” Tony climbs up to his feet, pulling one of his desk drawers open and reaching inside. “I didn’t lock myself up for no reason. Here. It’s not vibranium but uh, hope you like it.” 
Steve takes the ring out from the velvet box gingerly, as if he’s afraid it’ll break. “You’ve always had my heart,” he murmurs as he examines the inscription on the silver band. “Wow.”
Tony’s breath catches at the reverence in Steve’s tone. “Figured you’ll like that kind of sappy thing.”
“I do,” Steve says and god he sounds so happy, so touched, so— “Here’s yours.”
It’s a simple gold ring, with a familiar scrawl engraved on the inside.
You’ve given me a home.
Tony almost breaks down.
*****
read the rest of ao3.
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Text
Angel Wings
There’s a reason demons have better groomed wings than angels.
When Crowley discovers that Aziraphale has not groomed his wings since being in Hell, he demands that they end their celebration so Aziraphale can clean away the hell ash. Instead of letting him leave, Aziraphale asks Crowley for his help. What follows is perhaps the most intimate night of their relationship thus far.
—-
The night after the world did not end, Aziraphale finds himself watching Crowley lazing about contentedly on his old tartan couch. He looks so carefree, sprawled out as if determined to take up as much room as possible, more relaxed than Aziraphale has ever seen him. He has that right, he thinks. They both do. They are free now. Their own side. It is an invigorating thought.
He’s just starting to plan how to make his desires known, now that he can, when Crowley frowns, flicking a bit of ash off the sleeve of his jacket. With a small displeased sound he removes his jacket and shakes it out, dislodging a few more flakes of ash. He catches one on a finger and sniffs it, his frown depending.
Aziraphale blushes, embarrassed. He’d thought he’d gotten all the ash off of Crowley’s clothes when he returned from Hell. Obviously he was mistaken.
“Angel,” Crowley asks, scowling at the flakes - stark black pieces of ash against his pale skin. “Did you, ah, stop anywhere between Hell and the park today?”
Aziraphale shakes his head. He had taken a moment to miracle everything clean, but he’d been too impatient for anything else. “No. I went right there. Why? Is something wrong?”
“Right there? You didn’t stop to do anything at all?”
Again Aziraphale shakes his head, confused by the sudden urgency in his voice. “No. They let me out by the usual entrance and I walked right to the park to meet you.” He doesn’t say he’d been far too worried to think of stopping, terrified that he would get there and Crowley wouldn’t come.
Crowley sits bolt upright, a look of dawning horror on his face that Aziraphale does not understand. “Did you- have you groomed your wings since then?” There’s a note of carefully controlled panic now in his voice.
Aziraphale blinks at him, frowning. If another angel had asked about his wing grooming habits, he would have been horribly offended. There had been a time, once, when angels wore their wings openly. But that time was long past. Now, it was the height of impropriety to speak of, allude to, or, Heaven forbid, see another angel’s wings. Demons, he knows, have no such compunction. And Aziraphale is familiar enough with his own desires to recognize that speaking of such intimate things with Crowley is not just permissible, but something he very much wants.
“No,” he says, sensing that this is important to Crowley but not understanding why. “I don’t believe I have.”
Strangely, Crowley blanches. “Bloody Heaven, angel, why didn’t you say so? We could have waited to go to dinner.”
“I don’t see why. It’s not like they really need it-“
Crowley isn’t listening. He stands, agitated, glaring at his watch. “It’s been, what…? Six hours? Sooner’s always better, but you should still be safe. Go- Sa- Somebody, Aziraphale, you should have just said if you were waiting for me to go. Leaving it this late is reckless.”
“Crowley-“ Aziraphale stands too, watching him start towards the door and then abruptly turn back in the direction of the couch. He has no idea what’s going on here, but he hates seeing Crowley so upset, especially when they ought to have been celebrating.
“Really angel, I know we’ve been through a lot today, but you’ve got to take care of yourself. I should-um.” He stops to glance at Aziraphale, then turns away, blushing. “I’ll just- I’ll head out now. Let you get on with things. Give me a call tomorrow, yeah? We can-“
Aziraphale grabs his wrist as he reaches for the glasses on the edge of the side table. “Crowley,” he says when the demon goes still. “Stop. Look at me.”
Obediently, he turns his head to meet his gaze and Aziraphale is shocked to see that his eyes have gone fully yellow. Whatever is wrong has truly upset him, but he has absolutely no clue what it is, or why, when he’d seemed perfectly content just minutes ago.
“There,” he smiles encouragingly. “That’s better. Now, why don’t you tell me what this is all about, hmm?”
Crowley’s wide serpentine eyes scan his face, looking for what, Aziraphale couldn’t say. “You don’t know.” The words have the sound of a revelation.
“I would if you’d just tell me what you’re on about,” he snaps, frustrated, though he can’t exactly be blamed for being a bit irritable. It’s been a long eleven years after all.
“Your wings, angel,” Crowley tells him. “You went to Hell and you didn’t clean the ash from your wings.”
When Aziraphale still looks puzzled he scowls. “For- for satan’s sake, did they never tell you…”
“Tell me what?” Aziraphale asks, trying, for Crowley’s sake, to be more patient.
The demon’s face clouds over, and now he looks angry, but not at Aziraphale. At the archangels perhaps, or even Heaven itself. “Of course they didn’t. Probably hoped you’d wander down there by accident one day and whoops, there you go, so sorry it can’t be fixed. Fuckerssss.” His hiss at the end is enough to tell Aziraphale how serious this is, whatever it is. Crowley has to be truly furious or terrified to lose control of his voice like that.
Aziraphale squeezes the wrist he still holds, drawing his attention back to the hear and now. “What didn’t they tell me, dear?”
Crowley sighs, and runs a hand through his hair, shaking his head as if to clear it. “Hell ash,” he says. “I’m sure you noticed it down there. Fine grey particles, smells like sulfur, gets into everything.”
He nods. He had noticed it. He’d miracled as much of it out of Crowley’s clothes as he could once he’d gotten back to Earth, but he was sure there was still some he hadn’t managed to clear away, like the flakes Crowley had noticed earlier. It was insidiously stubborn stuff.
“Well it’s on the metaphysical plane too. Which means it also gets into your true form. And for some reason, it’s especially attracted to wings.” He makes a face, remembering some time or times when the ash had gotten into his wings.
“And that means…” Aziraphale prompts, when he doesn’t seem inclined to continue.
Crowley meets his eyes, the expression in his gaze qual parts sorrow and anger. “There’s a good reason,” he says, “why demons tend to keep their wings better groomed than angels. Those that still have them, at any rate.”
He gasps, suddenly hit with a terrible understanding. “You mean the ash…”
“If you get too much on you, or leave it there too long, it kills the feathers.”
“Oh.” He swallows. “Right. So I should…”
“Yeah,” Crowley nods. “Right away.” He tugs his wrist from Aziraphale’s limp grasp and snatches up his glasses. “I’m so sorry. I should have mentioned it sooner. I- I thought you knew, and I know how angels are about wings, but, well…” He sighs, starting back towards the door. “I’ll just, ah, leave you to it, shall I?”
In the old days, Aziraphale would have nodded, thanked him, and wished him a pleasant night. He would have dealt with his wings in private, as is proper, and might even have managed to get them all properly clean. Eventually, at least.
But this isn’t the old days. This is now. And he has turned way from Heaven. Chosen Earth. Chosen Crowley. They’re on their own side now. And he’s allowed to ask now for what he wants.
“No,” he says. Firm. Decisive. Crowley turns back to stare at him in shock.
“No?” He asks, expression carefully guarded.
“I, that is,” he blushes, suddenly stumbling over his words. Deciding to ask is one thing, he is realizing. Actually doing it is much harder. “I’d like it very much, if you would stay.”
(Read the rest on AO3!)
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littlemisspascal · 3 years
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Death and an Angel part 3
Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader
Summary: You and Din have an unexpected heart-to-heart about what it means to be Death and a Cupid on route to a planet where Din’s potential soulmate lives.
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,500
Warnings: Pining, smidge of angst, more plot development, Razor Crest (RIP I miss you darling!), a made-up home world for the reader (yes, yes, there’s like a million I could have picked but my brain said NOPE)
Author Note: Ahhhh, the comments are so amazing from you all! Thank you everyone out there sparing time to check out my little universe, it makes me sooo happy you have no idea! As always, I hope you enjoy this new segment as I try to plot this story out and get these two idiots to acknowledge there just might be something between them. 
Also special thanks to @codenamewitcher​​ for including the first two parts on Weekly Fanfic Recs. Be sure to go check out the list for a whole bunch of fantastic stories!
Links to Part 1, Part 2 and Part 4
Photo Inspiration: (What I imagine is beneath the armor in this scene...*dreamy sigh*)
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There is a distinct silence that can only be found in hyperspace when the stars outside resemble sparkling streaks of silver tinsel and your breath is trapped within your lungs as you’re awestruck by the sheer beauty of it all. You experience this silence aboard the Razor Crest, sitting in the cockpit behind Din as he pilots his beloved gunship. It isn’t the first time you’ve been a passenger, having traveled with Din on two previous ventures where your Cupid services were required on planets far away from your home on Umbriel.
Off-world assignments for you were generally rare since your bosses were more inclined to choose Cupids of higher ranking to handle those clients, but sometimes you were the only available option left. Which, come to think of it, is exactly how you became the one roped into meeting with Death every full moon. Your bosses decided someone needed to check up on him to make sure he wasn’t reaping anyone before their fated time and thus messing with the natural order of things. You privately have reached the conclusion it was a decision made during a fit of paranoia as you had yet to find any evidence suggesting Din ever broke a single one of the universe’s rules, let alone even considered the mere possibility.
When you did travel for assignments, you never stopped feeling like a goldfish being dumped out of your familiar little bowl and into a massive ocean full of strange oddities. You would often find yourself wasting time trying to successfully navigate the unknown world when you should have been focused on tracking down your client’s soulmate.
That’s why Din had offered to start traveling with you. Actually, in his own words it was because, “You think about love so much you don’t see trouble until it’s an inch in front of you. Someone’s got to be there to look after you.”
You’d tried to argue, told him you had never experienced trouble and that if you did then you could handle it with your bow. All Cupid’s were required to master archery for self-defense purposes, though Din’s responding snort of derision made you suspect he wasn’t convinced of your skills. You wondered if he thought, just as humans incorrectly did, a Cupid only used their bow to spread love and lust. Or maybe he just thought you weren’t capable of such finesse. It was an insulting assumption, fueling you with the burning desire to prove him wrong. One day, you keep telling yourself, a repetitive chant. One day you’ll show him just how capable you are with your weapon and you imagine his look of shock, whether worn openly on his face or hidden beneath the visor of his helmet, will be utterly priceless.
But in the meantime, you’re in no hurry to encounter trouble. Finding enjoyment in taking these trips with him on his ship instead.
The Razor Crest had actually been a complete surprise to you when Din first welcomed you on it; primarily because the notion of him using such a primitive form of transportation despite the powers he possessed as Death was too outrageous to wrap your head around. However, it took less than ten minutes soaring through space for you to discover just how many details of the universe you were missing by relying on your Cupid abilities to teleport yourself between locations. Never would you have imagined Death to be the one to teach you to love the slowness of travel, to let your eyes linger on all the beautiful wonders along the way. But that’s exactly what happened.
You turn your head away from the window to look at Din. From your angle, all you glimpse is the back of his helmet, reflecting the passing starlight. Soon you’ll be introducing Din to the first immortal on your list of potential soulmates.
Death, you quickly correct yourself. He’s only Din when he’s around you.
You initially thought he elected to wear his armor because you told him he could to ease his comfort, but now you think it’s because this is him meeting his potential soulmate as himself. It is easy to forget sometimes this is the image of Death—a warrior enshrouded in beskar, cunning and ruthless—that is recognized throughout the universe. And feared.
If the handsome face he concealed was known instead, you wonder if mortals would readily choose to embrace the ending of their lifetime, rather than foolishly seek to run from its inevitability.
“What is it?” Din’s baritone voice startles you as it shatters the quietness. The modulator within his helmet gives his tone a low raspiness that never fails to send a chill down your spine when you hear it.
“Huh?” You respond ineloquently.
“You’ve been staring at the back of my head for the last five minutes, angel. I figured you had something worth saying.”
“Oh, no. I was just thinking about you.”
Immediately you wish a meteor would collide with the ship, providing you with the necessary distraction to escape and find somewhere you can hide until the end of time.
“...What about me were you thinking?” Din wonders after a solid thirty seconds of pure silence, voice somehow conveying an equally blended mixture of intrigue and wariness. He flips on the ship’s autopilot and turns in his seat to pin you with his gaze, apparently unwilling to let you try and weasel yourself out of the conversation.
You roll the question around in your mind, wanting to give an answer that satisfies him without it also embarrassing yourself further.
“I was thinking how much of an enigma you are,” you murmur at last, leaning back in the chair with your arms crossing over your stomach. “You wield such incredible powers and yet you choose to wear a human face, to call this man-made ship your home and to also spend your spare time living amongst those you will eventually reap. Why are these your choices?”
He tilts his head, and you just know there is a little crease of bewilderment appearing between his eyebrows right now even if you can’t see it. For as much as he is a puzzle you can’t put together, he is also at times an open book that you will never tire of reading.
“I would think you, more than most beings, would understand the discomfort that stems from loneliness and the lengths one will go to ease it,” he says, not unkindly. He mirrors your position, maneuvering himself until he’s comfortable in his seat and totally oblivious to the dilating of your pupils as you observe every subtle shift of his armor-clad body. “Isn’t that the true purpose of Cupids? To spare individuals the ache of living a life of solitude by introducing them to someone to love so they no longer feel it.”
“That’s a poetic way of putting it,” you answer, smiling softly and shrugging your shoulders. “My superiors would just quote our mantra back at me when I used to ask. Amor vincit omnia.”
“Love conquers all.”
You shouldn’t be surprised he’s able to translate such an ancient and obscure language, but your eyes widen regardless. “That’s right.”
His voice is unusually soft when he asks, “Do you like being a Cupid?”
You stare at him, caught off guard by how easily he’s changed the topic of the conversation from himself to you. You’re used to taking orders and being thanked for your services, but no one has ever asked you if you liked doing any of it.
“I’m good at it,” you finally say, even though it’s not really an answer.
He nods his head still, as if he understands. A part of you thinks he actually does.
You lick your lips, eyeing him hesitantly. “Do you...like being Death?”
“I’m good at it,” he echoes, but your words sound somber coming from his lips.
The cockpit fills with hushed silence again, but there’s a unique tenderness unlike ever before. Minutes seem to stretch on for entire seasons as you watch one another, content to simply coexist and revel in each other’s presences.
It would be so easy to slip off his helmet and kiss him right now.
You stiffen, stunned at your own thought, but you aren’t given the chance to analyze it further as an alarm on the ship’s control panel announces with a resounding beep you’ve reached your destination.
Din spins in his seat, reclaiming control of the steering to begin the ship’s landing process. You look out the front window at the large green-blue planet drawing nearer with every anxious tick of your heartbeat.
“We’re here,” you say needlessly, forcing excitement into your voice. Fake it till you make it, isn’t that the human expression?
“Who is it we’re meeting on this backwater skug hole?” Din asks, pressing a series of buttons above his head.
You kick the back of his seat. “Be nice,” you scold when he shoots you a look. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he turns back around, prompting you to roll your eyes. “She’s a goddess of springtime and motherhood. The locals call her Omera.”
Tag List: @leilei-draws​, @theocatkov​, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph​, @stardust-and-starlight​, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor​, @remmyswritings​, @gallowsjoker​, @rhiannon-russo​, @randomness501​, @eleine-t1d​, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene​, @softly-sad​, @maytheglitter​, @melobee​
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ficsnooneaskedfor · 2 years
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Call the Twi'lek Midwife
Chapter 50: Protecting Gifts
Word count: 5.9k
Series rating: M
Chapter summary: After Citali learns of her cousin's connection to the Force, Izel tells her some of the histories of their people that have been kept secret and how her own abilities revealed themselves. Crosshair wakes up the next morning to find his condition has improved drastically and after a talk with Citali, he comes to a decision.
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It took every bit of self-control Izel had not to openly weep at her cousin's revelation. For so long she had hidden her unique abilities from all but a handful of Jemala's healers, not even her parents knew of them. There were times that hiding such a part of herself made her feel isolated but now she knew she was not alone. Citali had the same gift she did, knew what it felt like, and she wanted to cry in relief. But Izel was concerned that if she broke down in tears it would frighten Citali more than she probably already was, though she could not sense any fear in her. Izel only had the ability to sense intense emotions in others, so Citali either was not afraid at all or her fear was minimal. The strongest emotion Izel could sense in her was confusion and curiosity. She stood up, helping Citali to her feet, and grabbed her spear that was leaning against the house. "Come, let's go somewhere more private to speak," Izel said. She did not want to chance anyone hearing them.
The guards at the gate would usually discourage people from leaving the safety of the village at night but as it was Izel and Citali, they let them pass without issue. Izel was able to find their way around even in the low light and could sense that Citali was growing fearful of the deep darkness that engulfed them, her anxiety intensifying when she spotted eyes staring at them or heard the sounds of snapping twigs. Citali could be quite adventurous at times but roaming the forest in the dead of night was stretching it. Izel put her arm around Citali and said, "Have no fear, I will keep you safe." There was not a hint of sarcasm, irony, or teasing in Izel's voice. She was genuinely trying to calm her. "Are you still afraid of the dark?" When Citali was very young, total darkness terrified her as she was used to the constant bright lights and noises of the city. Her brothers would tease her about it but Izel never did, letting her little cousin stay in her bed when she was afraid and telling her stories until she fell asleep.
"Usually no but this is a bit much for me," Citali admitted. Given the choice, she would rather walk the streets of Ord Mantell City at night than do what she was doing now. In many ways, that was far more dangerous than this but at least she would be able to see.
"It's all right. I can sense everything that surrounds us, there is nothing nearby that can harm you. And if I sense anything approaching, we will return to the village."
"How can you sense all that?" Citali asked.
"It is a gift from the Light," she said. Izel closed her eyes and listened to the songs of life around them. "The Light is known by many names. Our people call it Juh, many call it the Force. Others call it Ashla or even magic. The Light in all living things creates music and over the years, I've learned how to listen for it."
"Years? You mean you've known about your...gift for years?"
"Yes. Eleven years to be exact. I'm assuming you've learned of yours very recently?"
"Yes. Just before we came here," Citali said, still in disbelief that Izel had known of her abilities, whatever they were, for so long. "The grand-wisewoman also called it being 'Kissed by the Light' but in all the stories and songs of our people, I've never heard of it."
"Nor had I until it happened to me," Izel said. The wisewomen and healers of the village were seen as holy, mystical beings tasked not only with caring for the physical and spiritual health of all in the village but with learning and passing down the history of their people. This sort of knowledge was a closely guarded secret, Citali would not have been taught of it yet. "Only the grand-wisewoman and a few of the older healers know of such things. No one else knows of my gift, not even our family."
"Why is this knowledge kept secret?" Citali asked, though she already had a hunch about why.
"For the safety of people like you and me, our families, and our communities. And after the massacre of the Jedi..." Now that her suspicions that they were clones had been confirmed, Izel could not help wondering if Citali's new family had aided in the destruction of the Jedi Order. They obviously were not loyal to the Empire. Citali probably never would have befriended them in the first place if they were, no matter how infatuated with Echo she was and she definitely would not have brought them here. From what little Izel knew of them, they must have deserted long before the clones were retired from service. Perhaps what happened to the Jedi was what spurred them to desert. "After what happened to them, I can see why such knowledge has been kept secret among our people. Do Echo and the others know about you?"
"They do," Citali said honestly. "I told Echo about it, the others learned of it by accident. But you need not worry about your safety or mine with them. The clones had chips in their brains that forced them to kill the Jedi but they removed their chips. They have no loyalty to the Empire." Izel felt sick to her stomach at the thought of chips controlling someone's mind and what that sort of torture must feel like. She imagined it was a fate worse than death. "Izel," Citali said reaching for her hand. "I need to know more about what this is and what it means. Please tell me what you know." Izel heard the desperation in Citali's voice. She did not have all the answers Citali would want but she could teach her what she did know.
"As children, we are taught that Juh and Sinya were born from the Mother Goddess. That Juh is the Light, the power that gives life to the universe and everything in it. That Sinya is the Darkness, the power of death and destruction, feared and misunderstood though no less vital in holding the universe together than the Light. There was a time I believed they were just stories. Beautiful ones but still just stories. Myths our people told to make sense of the universe, but there is at least some truth to them."
Izel stopped for a moment to make sure they were still safe. She looked through the forest, her eyes naturally accustomed to seeing in the dark, listening with her ears before quieting her mind to sense the living creatures nearby, the earth beneath her feet acting as a conduit to connect her.
"There are the Juh Sirku'iko, Manipulators of the Light," Izel continued. "Those to whom the Light gives the potential for extraordinary powers, like the Jedi but such power among our people has not been seen for many hundreds of years. Then there are the Juhkarsa, the ones who can sense the Light. All beings are connected to the Light, the connection being the strongest when we are infants, during childbirth, in battle, and at the end of life. But Juhkarsa are 'Kissed', meaning the Light has awakened in them the special abilities that all living beings possess that lay dormant most of the time. We do not have the same power that Manipulators have but in many ways, that is a blessing. Our abilities are more easily hidden and do not usually attract the attention of other Force-users. And negative emotions are not as dangerous to us because we simply cannot use our gifts in anger, hate, or fear the way Manipulators can. With great power comes the price of tempation and because our abilities are subtle we are less corruptible, better able to fight off dark influences though that does not mean they can't sway us."
"If all living beings have these...gifts," Citali said. "Why would the Light give us the ability to use them and not everyone?"
"I have been asking myself that for years. Grandmother..." Izel said, meaning the grand-wisewoman. "She told me that Juhkarsa have appeared throughout the history of our people, most often in times of great need. And that many over the centuries have come from our clan."
"Really?" Citali asked.
"You seem surprised," Izel said. "The Light often gives these abilities to the leaders of our people, and there is a long history of healers and chiefs in our family."
"That is hardly unusual. Our clan is one of the oldest in the tribe."
"More like the oldest. Grandmother told me that our clan is descended from the Three Sisters," Izel said. Citali should have been surprised but in her heart, she already knew. "They were Juh Sirku'iko but you already know this, don't you? Because you've seen them. They revealed their names to you."
Citali nodded her head. "Ezprida, Alema, and Lia'ry. I saw their story in a wall of light coming out of a fire. I saw them captured by slavers on Ryloth, how Ezprida use her power to release the bonds of all the slaves, how Alema made the walls in the market fall, and Lia'ry...she spoke to me." Izel did not seem surprised, having a look on her face as if she had experienced something similar. "But if you're saying there is some sort of...power in the blood of our family, you must be mistaken. They lived over a thousand years ago, there surely must be many people throughout the North that are their descendants."
"I don't believe blood matters much. Many of the Juhkarsa from our clan were not born into the tribe. I think it's less about lineage and more about carrying on their legacy. Perhaps in our case, it's a little of both," Izel said and Citali remembered something Lia'ry had said to her: I have been watching you, little sister. As I watch all who carry on my legacy.
"Has Lia'ry spoken to you too?" Citali asked, unsure of what else to say.
"No, but Alema has spoken to me many, many times," Izel said. "She offers me guidance in my dreams and in times of danger, I sense her presence. Sometimes I can hear her voice in my head. What did Lia'ry say to you? Better yet, tell me everything from the beginning."
Citali told her about the ritual she had performed asking for her family's safe return from a rescue mission and how she believed her "Awakening" happened then. She didn't say the mission was to rescue Crosshair but Izel knew. Citali left Rex, Wolffe, Gregor, and most importantly, Ahsoka out of the story but told her cousin everything from her dreams to the visions she saw from Morai to seeing her mother, brother, ancestors, and speaking to Lia'ry. How there were times Citali could sense the Light around her in her garden, how she was becoming more perceptive of the emotions of others. "But one thing I keep thinking of," Citali said. "Is something Lia'ry told me that seemed very strange. She said that she and I were two different people but one at the same time. What do you think she meant by that?" Izel laughed almost knowingly.
"Alema told me the same thing once," Izel said. "I've spoken to Grandmother about it. It is said when our bodies die, our spirits journey through the Darkness and into the Light again. We become the wind, water, sky, stars...everything that makes the universe. Grandmother believes it's possible that the bodies of Juhkarsa can hold our own Light and a 'spark' of the Light from another person, perhaps even many people. That a bit of Alema's Light lives in me and if that is true, perhaps some of Lia'ry's Light lives in you."
Izel then told Citali the story of her own Awakening. A story Citali knew but not in full detail. Izel was seventeen, a year into her training with the Barcarkan, on patrol duty with her group and she became separated from them when a terrible blizzard snuck upon them. Night had fallen, the howling of the wind deafening to her ears, her comm device had no signal, and she could not see more than a few inches in front of her. Without shelter, it was unlikely she would live to see another sunrise so she decided to build a snow cave to weather the storm. That was when she heard voices calling her name in the dark, beaconing her to come closer, telling her someone needed her help. Without hesitation, she followed the voices until she found a Savrip child, huddled on the ground whimpering. In the brutal cold of winter, the reptilian species sought the refuge of hot springs located in caves beneath the mountains. Why the child was alone, Izel did not know but he would not last long even with all the furs covering his body. The child was afraid of her despite being a foot taller than she was and Izel understood why. The Twi'leks of Ord Mantell regarded the Savrips as sentient beings but others on the planet not only hunted them for sport but consumed them. The child had every reason to fear her so she got low to the ground, put down her weapons, and spoke to him in a gentle voice, telling him she would keep him safe but they needed to keep walking or they would both die. The child did not fully understand her but quickly realized that though she did not look like a Mantellian Twi'lek, Izel was obviously one of their people and he could trust her. Izel took him by the hand following the voices that still called to her, praying that the massive child did not collapse. They came to a cave with the salvation of a small hot spring inside where Izel slowly warmed the child, gave him all the dried meat she had in her bag, and prayed fervently most of the night. When sleep found her, she had a terrifying dream.
It was similar to Citali's dream of the mountain but Izel's was different. She was naked and alone, stuck in a bog that stretched as far as her eyes could see, and with every step she sank deeper into the icy cold, black mud, the stench so overwhelming it was suffocating her. When she could go no further, fearing she would freeze or drown before reaching her destination, an old Twi'lek woman with orange skin reached out her hands, held her close, and put a cloak on her. The woman was Alema and once Izel was warmed and given time to recoup her strength she journeyed onward, supported by many other people she believed to be ancestors of both her mother and father. She made her way across the bog and finally onto land, awaking to find the snow had ceased falling. Together she and the Savrip child left the cave and were able to find his parents before Izel reunited with her own family who wept with joy after believing her to be dead.
Izel did not speak of the voices or the strange dreams she continued to have to anyone at first but when they did not stop, she went to the grand-wisewoman and told her everything that happened. They went into the forest along with a handful of healers to perform a ritual and while there was no wall of light as occurred with Citali the fire did burn unusually bright, there seemed to be figures dancing in the flames, and everyone heard voices. The voices were loudest to Izel, who stared at the fire in a trance before collapsing to the ground as visions in her mind showed her the story of the Three Sisters. Alema came to Izel again, telling her they were "two different people but also one", to always remember that mercy and compassion are what makes a true warrior not the ability to take life, and to follow the path that was in front of her. That their people and all of Ord Mantell would one day need her courage, mercy, and strength and that she would not be alone in the fight to come. From that day on Izel's abilities grew little by little. She learned to feel the life around her, to read people's emotions, to sense danger before it happened, and to draw on the power of the Light to help sustain her physically and emotionally in perilous times. Dreams and visions led her to slaves in need of rescue, including the children of her older brother and his husband, and her deep connection to her home planet even gave her some foresight into the weather patterns that could affect the lives of her people. But Izel was warned by the holy people of their village to be cautious in using her gifts, fearing that if word got out some might seek to enslave and use her for their own nefarious purposes. It had happened before, that was why their people did not speak of these things openly any longer. Secrecy was even more crucial now with the Empire hunting down the remaining Jedi and other Force-sensitives. Like Citali, Izel hoped their power was subtle enough to avoid detection but there was no way to know for sure.
"There is still so much I do not understand," Izel said. "And probably never will. After the abduction of the last Juh Siru'iko of our people by a Jedi who turned away from the Light, our tribe went to great lengths to protect itself. Books and texts written about those with strong connections to the Light and their deeds were destroyed, their stories only being passed down orally until they became myths. Much of what was once known has been lost. But one thing has become very clear to me. To have two Juhkarsa in the tribe at one time is rare and only occurs in times of desperate need. It is a sign our people and all of Ord Mantell will face great challenges in our lifetimes. From the Empire, crime syndicates, perhaps another type of threat...I don't know. Whatever it is, people will need our gifts Tali." Then Izel's sense of duty was overcome by fear for Citali, someone she loved as dearly as a little sister. One of her first memories was of when Citali's parents brought her to Jemala for the first time and how she loved her baby cousin from the moment she held her. Even as a young child Izel was fiercely protective of her and that never stopped. She stood in front of Citali, putting both her hands on her shoulders. "Stay in Jemala with me," Izel begged. "I can protect you, the power in the land of our people will protect you. The tribe will accept and love your family. I can teach you what I've learned, we can figure out how you can use your gifts to help others together. I know the weight of being a wisewoman here is not what you want but we can keep all of you safe."
"I can't Izel," Citali said reluctantly. She was glad she had not told Izel about the dream Ahsoka had of her in danger, it would only make this harder for them both. "I appreciate what you are trying to do and in a way, Jemala is and will always be my home. But I have a home and community somewhere else too. I will always support you, our clan, and our people in any way I can. If there ever comes a time our people need me, I will not hesitate. But this is not where I am supposed to be right now."
"I understand," she said sadly. She and Citali had always been close because both felt like outsiders in their tribe growing up, even if the tribe fully accepted and loved them. Izel because of how she looked, Citali for being raised away from her people and that was precisely why she wouldn't be content in Jemala. Izel had pretty much everything and everyone she loved within the walls of her village but Citali had a life, a career, and people she loved in and near Ord Mantell City. Upending it to move halfway across the planet would not be an easy thing for her, any more than it would be for Izel to do the same. And if she was honest with herself, Izel too felt that Citali's place was not in Jemala. Perhaps that would change someday but for now, she was exactly where she needed to be. "I'm sorry for asking you to do such a thing," Izel said. "I've done this to you before and I did it again tonight. It's just...knowing what the Empire did to the Jedi, knowing what they will do if they find out who your family is...I can't help but worry about you. About all of you. I just want you to be safe."
"I know you do," Citali said hugging her.
Izel sensed a large predator in the distance and wanting to keep Citali safe she decided it was time to return to the village. They walked in silence while Citali pondered everything she had learned and like with Ahsoka, for every answer she received her questions doubled and she was unsure how to feel. When they reached the front of their family's home Izel said, "If you are able to come to Jemala on a more regular basis, I can try to teach you more if you would like. Crosshair will probably need more treatments anyways and it seems like the others really like it here."
"I'll discuss it with them. Thank you for everything Izel, this was...enlightening. I think I'll hang out in the garden to decompress for a bit. If he's still awake, will you let Echo know I'll be in shortly?"
"Of course," Izel said smiling, giving Citali a hug and a kiss. "Goodnight."
Citali walked around to the back of the house, searched for a small stone, and sat down on the soft grass as she took in everything around her. The scent of flowers that only blossomed at night filled the air, the chill breeze on her skin, the sounds of frogs peeping. She held the stone in her hand, focusing her energy on connecting to it and trying to make it move. Citali was unsure how much time had passed but then she sensed she was not alone. She opened her eyes and saw Omega standing in front of her dressed in her nightgown, furs around her shoulders, and holding her clone trooper doll.
"Hello sweetheart. Is everything all right?" Citali asked.
"I keep hearing weird noises," Omega admitted.
"Are they frightening you?" Omega nodded her head. She was growing up so fast but there were times like this when it really hit Citali that she was still very much a child. Citali held out her arms and Omega ran to her, sitting on her lap while Citali rocked her and rubbed her back. "The noises from the forest take some getting used to but you are very safe here, I promise."
"I know. I've tried to ignore them but I just can't. I don't know why I'm so scared." The other girls, some much younger than Omega, were fast asleep in the hut, unbothered by the sounds around them. It embarrassed her to be so afraid.
"Because it's different," Citali said. "They scared me too when I was little, they still do sometimes. Izel used to tell me to pretend the noises were music, that the animals, the wind, and bugs were singing. That helped me a little."
"That's a nice way to think about it," Omega said smiling, relaxing as she listened to the sounds from a new perspective.
Citali gave her a hug and said, "Let's get you back to sleep, we've got a big day tomorrow and we need to be well-rested for our lesson. Would you feel better sleeping in the house with me tonight?" Omega nodded her head and Citali brought her inside where she made them a snack and some tea as quietly as she could. They went to the bed Echo was sleeping in with Snowball laying beside him and he woke up smiling when he saw Citali's beautiful face. "Omega's gonna sleep with us if that's okay," she whispered.
"Of course," he said groggily, lifting up the blankets and furs. With Omega nestled in the middle, Citali told them both how much she loved them before telling Omega a story Izel used to tell her to help her fall asleep. At some point, it dawned on her once again that Omega had lived most of her life without receiving this sort of comfort. Nala Se may have had some fondness for the girl but Citali doubted she ever sang to her or tucked her in at night or told her bedtime stories. It made her heart ache for her apprentice, her friend, her little sister and made her even more desperate to shower her with the love she had been denied.
And all the more fearful that her attempts to learn how to use her "gifts" might be a horrible mistake that could rob Omega and the rest of their family of the joy and freedom they had found.
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Crosshair had had this nightmare a few times now but that didn't make it any easier on him, and this time felt much more real than the others. He was trying to kill the Padawan on Kaller, feeling the same confusion he did that day, wavering between uncontrollable fury for this boy his mind screamed was a traitor and deserved death while another part compelled him to barely miss the shots he took at him. Then he was on Kamino, wrestling with the same feelings as he fired at Omega and his brothers but in even less control of himself than he'd been on Kaller. He was glad they escaped but also felt abandoned by them, the feeling only intensifying as time passed. There was Onderon and the rebel camp he and his new squad had executed, then Bracca where they attacked Omega and his brothers again. The injuries he sustained there seemed to have dampened the control of his inhibitor chip somewhat but he was not free of it. After that, it became harder to determine what thoughts were truly his own and the ones that were from the lingering influence of his inhibitor chip. Then he was back on Kamino, trying to convince Hunter and his brothers to let Omega go and join the Empire for their safety, believing if he said his chip was already removed they would think he made the choice to serve the Empire of his own free will and they would do the same. He watched the Marauder fly away and felt himself sinking into despair and loneliness like a deep, black pit swallowing him up.
When he opened his eyes he heard songbirds chirping and saw Citali sitting beside him, seeming to glow in the sunlight as his eyes adjusted. Crosshair looked around for Hunter or Tech but they were nowhere to be found. Citali immediately noticed he had more control of his neck muscles. "Where are Hunter...and Tech?"
"Helping make breakfast," she said gently. She knew he has having a nightmare just before he woke up and hoped a calm voice might soothe him. "They decided not to wake you. They figured you were still very tired from everything you went through yesterday. How are you feeling today?"
"Still tired but...not as...bad as yesterday," Crosshair said. It took him a moment to realize he had replied faster to her question than he usually did, he did not have to think as hard on the words he was trying to say, and had said them with fewer pauses. His eyes widened and he threw the furs off his upper body, looking at his left arm. He was able to easily make a fist with his hand and though his muscles were very weak, he could bend his elbow a bit before his arm flopped back down on his mat. He was more excited than Citali had ever seen him.
"Easy," she said moving to his left side to support his arm so he did not injure himself. "I know you're excited but you could hyperextend your joints if they aren't properly supported." She moved the furs off his legs and asked if he could wiggle the toes of his left foot. He couldn't move them as easily as his fingers but he knew he'd done it when Citali laughed and hugged him. Crosshair couldn't help smiling at her and she saw that the paralysis in his face had almost completely disappeared. Seeing him smile fully and so genuinely brought tears to her eyes.
"Thank you...Citali. For all you've...done," he said wiping away the tear that had fallen on her cheek with his strong hand. He didn't like to see her crying, even if they were tears of joy for it reminded him of the visions of her in pain. Suddenly the smile that had been on his face was replaced with grimness. "I know I haven't been...the most pleasant...patient. I'm sorry. I don't deserve...the kindness you've shown...me."
"Why would you say something like that?" Citali said frowning.
"You have no idea...the things I've done," he said. "I am not...a good person, Citali. I never...have been." He thought of all the patients Citali lost over the years in childbirth, the babies who did not survive, her mother and brother. Why were they gone when Crosshair was not? It did not seem right that someone like him continued to survive after the things he'd done. Even before his inhibitor chip activated, he was not a good man. He was arrogant, ill-tempered, and lacked the compassion that was so natural to Citali. He wondered if the chip merely brought out the monster slumbering inside him. His guilt was so strong that Citali could sense it through the Force without trying.
"Do you think I concern myself with whether my patients are good people or not?" Citali said.
"No," Crosshair said. "That's what worries me. You've done a lot...for me. I was a stranger...to you but you helped...me anyways. If I was still...loyal to the Empire you and the people you love would...be in danger."
"It is not for me to decide if people are deserving of medical care or not. That sort of thinking is very dangerous. My job is to do what I can to make and keep people healthy, nothing more." Citali held his hand and looked into his eyes, Crosshair realizing he was getting more used to her touching him. "Are you still loyal to the Empire?"
"Of course not," Crosshair said quickly. "I might be a bit of...a jerk sometimes but I wouldn't..." Citali thought he was struggling to find his words due to his brain injury until she realized there was another reason he could not finish his sentence.
"You're remembering more of the things you did when you had your chip, aren't you? And wondering what actions were of your own free will or not," Citali said and Crosshair nodded his head. "Whatever you did...you can feel remorse and try to make amends in some way if you want but there will come a day when you'll have to accept that you can't change what happened. That is not in your control. What is in your control are the choices you now make and what sort of person you can be. If you don't like who you were, you can change that." Crosshair had to scoff.
"Tech once said...the exact opposite of that."
"I know he did," Citali said. "He's told me about it, the things he said to you when Tipoca City was destroyed. That you had always been, how did he put it...'severe and unyielding' I believe. That it was your nature and that couldn't be changed. But as intelligent as Tech is, he doesn't know everything and even he would say his words weren't entirely correct. People do change, I witness that every day. It's easier in some ways to let circumstances change who we are, for better or worse. Doing so by choice is not so easy but it's not supposed to be." Crosshair was always struck by Citali's ability to say profound things with simple words and wondered if she did this sort of thing with all her patients.
"Are you a...philosopher in your...spare time or something?" he teased causing Citali to smile again. Every quip and jest he made she took as a good sign.
"Isn't everyone?" she replied and Crosshair laughed.
"Definitely not."
They continued his morning exercises and did music therapy, singing a song Citali had been teaching him for some time while Crosshair reflected on the things she had said. With curiosity gnawing at them, Tech, Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Omega eventually crowded into the hut to see how Crosshair was doing today, ecstatic when they saw the drastic improvements he made overnight. Wrecker and Omega hugged him excitedly, Tech administered his medicines, Hunter helped him get clean and dressed before they joined everyone in the house, Echo setting down the food he made especially for Crosshair. He ate his breakfast in silence as he watched his brothers, thinking about how much they had changed. Echo had transformed physically with his new arm and improved health but what Crosshair noticed the most was how he seemed more comfortable with himself. Wrecker was still happy-go-lucky and playful but much more mature and responsible. The softness that had always been in Hunter he showed more openly now and Tech seemed to genuinely enjoy the company of others, rather than just tolerating it. They were happier than they had ever been.
Crosshair did not know if such joy was something he could ever truly experience but he wanted it for his brothers. For Omega, Melita, Marina, and Citali too. He still did not agree with the way they lived their lives but maybe that was why they needed him, why he needed to stay with them. He may never be able to fight or shoot again but at the very least he could be a voice of reason when they seemed to be doing something foolish. Who better to protect them from the Empire than someone who spent over a year serving it? It would not be easy but leaving them in an attempt to put his past behind him wouldn't be any easier. It might be for a time but if his inhibitor chip did not make him forget his love for his brothers, time and distance wouldn't either. And if anything were to happen to them or Omega, Citali, Melita, and Marina, Crosshair would be tormented for the rest of his days with thoughts of what he could have done to help them. He wasn't ready to tell anyone but he had made his decision.
His loyalties were with his brothers and the people they loved, the people Crosshair had come to love, and he would do what he could to defend them until he could elude death no longer.
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Taglist: @darkangel4121 @arcee-1995 @thecoffeelorian @gjrain20-starwars @littlefeatherr
For anyone that's interested, the idea of a "spark" of Light from another person being in Citali and Izel was inspired by the beliefs many different Native American tribes have about reincarnation and the belief that a person can have more than one soul in their body at one time or that a soul can be in multiple places at once, such as being a part of nature and reincarnating into another human body. It's a different way of thinking about reincarnation that many people are not familiar with so I wanted to include this in case anyone was confused.
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cptnbvcks · 4 years
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whatt do you think Mando's biggest turn ons and kinks are?
whew boy this a long one okay so here we go — nsfw (18+): 
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I think Mando’s the type of guy to have a lot of kinks swimming around in his head, a lot of ‘I might be into this’ moments that flit up to the top his mind at odd occurrences and interactions. You know how they say the quiet ones are always the kinkiest? Yeah, well — that’s probably Mando. 
He’s probably so quietly guarded about the things he likes that when he pulls one out of his bag of tricks to test out with you, you’re probably blind sided by it. 
Bondage is probably the most like.. obvious. Maybe you’d notice his proclivity for physical restraint the first time you guys fuck (lots of wrists pinned against the bed/wall/ground/etc.), but it quickly graduates to him bringing the binders into the mix. He likes restraint in part because it means he doesn’t have to worry about you making any moves to remove any blindfolds or his helmet while he’s distracted (if he’s wearing it at the time). Of course this diminishes as he grows to trust more, but the anxiety about it still sort of lingers. 
(He figured out he likes the binders, especially the magnetized ones, after catching a particularly spry quarry in them. Actually one of his most memorable ‘I think I might be into this’ revelations during the job.) 
((Also the same bounty that gave him the revelation that he’s got a predator/prey kink. Will most likely make a game of this with you.)) 
Overstimulation (which also goes hand in hand with orgasm denial and forced orgasms) is a kink Mando sort of stumbles upon somewhere along the way. The kind that he doesn’t really realize he’s into, or that it’s a ‘thing.’ He’s like a kid in a candy shop when it comes to sex — he knows you have a limit, maybe, but he’s been denied a lot in his life so he’s going to take his pleasure like the touch starved little bastard he is. He’ll either pull more orgasms out of you than you can take just because he wants to see how far your body will let him take you. Or he’ll just not let you cum at all, because he likes seeing the lengths you’ll go to express your desperation (usually lots of crying). The body, man, it fascinates him. 
This also leans heavily into an underlying control kink where Mando finds himself enjoying watching someone completely have their pleasure and body autonomy in the palm of his hand. Maybe that has something to do with being able to blow off steam where both parties get to completely shut down their minds — you being able to relinquish control entirely and enjoy the ride Mando’s taking you on, and Mando being able to do and explore whatever he pleases without any unexpected surprises. 
This also brings us to body worship. Mando likes seeing you naked; because nakedness implies several levels of vulnerability that he also doesn’t get to enjoy often. It implies you trust him, it suggests that you’re presenting yourself as an invitation for him to explore. In line with that overstimulation kink, he’ll thoroughly enjoy quietly savouring every inch of skin you provide him. This only intensifies if there’s been a lot of pining between the two of you before you ever get together. The enjoyment of body worship also goes both ways — no matter how much or little skin he offers you (even if it’s just pulling his cock out of his pants and letting you go to town), he’ll turn to fucking mush if you begin to tend to him like it’s the only thing you ever want to do ever again.
Oh yeah, and yes — Mando eats that pussy like a starving man. He’ll throw your legs over his shoulders and fucking dive in. If he’s feeling particularly feral, he’ll go straight for the clit and watch you absolutely lose your mind while he yanks orgasm after orgasm out of you. Most of it is for his own enjoyment; he likes the act, the taste, the way your muscles and thighs end up shaking to the point that they tremble for hours after he’s done. If he just wants to lazily enjoy you, you might find yourself waking up to his lips on your thighs and quietly asking permission to have a little taste. 
Also — anal. A turn on that popped into his head once when he interrupted one of your showers and saw your ass glistening and wet and looking a little too appealing in more than one way. 
Gun play is another odd kink that came up during the job; probably arose when he was cleaning his blasters while sitting on the floor of the Crest and having you plop down across from him to keep him company. The sight of those guns and you just… triggered a dark little stirring in his gut. He’s not opposed to bringing some of his work-gear into the bedroom, but he’ll make sure it’s thoroughly cleaned before hand don’t worry. 
Spanking is also… a mild thing. Not necessarily ‘bend over my knee and let me spank you until you can’t sit for a week.’ It’ll be a lot of smacks in random areas — tits, thighs, occasionally the cheek if you’re starting to zone out on him after your 5th orgasm. He’ll go for the ass if he’s got you on your hands and knees.
This one’s old but gold — cockwarming is most likely one of his favourite kinks when we dip into the softer side of his needs. He likes the closeness of it; of the sheer act of being inside of your body and basking in all the softness and heat that is so different from any other act of intimacy. It’s something that he doesn’t get to enjoy often, so he revels in the quiet shared space of being within you. 
Cockwarming also leads us into Mando’s lowkey breeding kink. This is a little kink that’s been nagging in the back of his head for a long time. It gets even harder to ignore when he’s with someone he’s grown a strong bond with. Mando never expected to have a family of his own, but he has yearned for it without openly admitting it to himself or others; though ever since the kid (and you) came into his life, he can’t help but bite back vocalizing how badly he wants to fuck a baby into you when he’s just about to cum. 
Intimacy isn’t really a kink, but my boy’s so fucking touch starved that if you so much as touch his skin softly prior to any sexual interaction he might feel all his blood rush to his cock and fucking keel over so maybe—
Wild card? Size kink. Will wear the armour both because you like the extra intimidating size it adds to his whole body, and also because he likes the fact that you seem even more helpless while he’s covered head to toe in that beskar. Also he’s got Big Meat Syndrome and low key gets off watching you struggle to take him — the physical pleasure of that tight stretch, and also your sheer determination to your own detriment, are two things he really fucking enjoys (especially once you both work past his anxieties of actually hurting you). 
Anywho — Mando more like ManhOE am i right nerds 
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dreamteamfanblog · 3 years
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The fact that even the Dream Smp Wiki acknowledges the founding of The Badlands as the festival without acknowledging the stream where Skeppy and Bad literally formed the Badlands (they even named it that stream) way before the festival. Which. Is a shame. Because I really like that stream. Bad's assertion that "The Only Important Side's Skeppy's Side", the way they giggled and reveled in their plans as they discussed how "Maybe the most amount of fun we can have is the chaotic kinda fun~", and I kinda got chills during that giddy "We play the sides against each other and take it all for ourselves!" speech. Like. Man. I remember getting so psyched over that stream and all-caps screaming about how cool it was.
So it's kinda sad to me that nobody seems to know about that stream. Like, it's nothing new, there were hardly any posts whatsoever about it when it happened and literally every time I mentioned that they were going on a villain arc I got multiple confused comments and questions. Then everyone seemed confused about whether Skeppy was even a member for the longest time and even when he was included it was "under the assumption that he's teamed with bad cause in what world aren't they teamed lol" rather than because Skeppy and Bad literally planned their little team together long before other members were even a thought in their minds, and it surely speaks to their characters, that Bad so easily proclaimed Skeppy's side the only one that mattered and slid his idea by Skeppy as an equal before he even thought of a plan, before he even thought of a name, something they did together.
And like, I just clicked on The Badlands wiki page for unrelated reasons, and even that page lists The Festival as the start of The Badlands and lists Bad, Ant, and Awesamdude as the founders even though Bad and Skeppy had formed their own little faction they called The Badlands with just the two of them long before the others entered because the two of them are all that matters to them, really, and in what world does Bad while in his right mind launch such an ambitious project without his Skeppy already by his side.
"The only faction that matters is the Skeppy faction"
The Badlands was their plan, their faction, created with so much giddiness and excitement by the two of them for the two of them, for each other, with the idea in mind that this was all that mattered, whatever else came from their little scheme.
And I just really really like that whole stream. I really like how thoroughly it displays that nothing really matters to them besides each other. I really loved their energy and their giddy excitement and affection throughout the planning with one another was in equal parts a further reminder of how much they matter to each other and an indicator of how disconnected their emotions are from the world outside each other. They agreed to do this for the fun of it. Not even a hunger for power, not some sort of resentment, not as well intentioned extremists, not for any reason but that this is the most amount of Fun we can get out of all this. As if the lives of other people were a game to toy with. As if they lacked empathy entirely for the people their "fun" may hurt. As if they could only see each other.
And god i've been sitting here including this stream as a peak moment for them both and including this in my thoughts on the Badlands dynamic generally because hey, doesn't it strike anyone as odd that Bad and Skeppy were whispering and giggling about how much fun they were going to have and openly discussing plans and expressing a complete lack of care for like Anyone else because as Bad outright said there's not really a thing outside of Skeppy that matters to him in the slightest, and that goes both ways....and yet when Bad approached Sam and Ant it was under the pretenses of solidarity, of 'outrage' over the festival and how Schlatt had gone too far, not a word to them about how the little world domination scheme and The Badlands as a faction long predated this conversation and the moment in which Schlatt took things 'too far'. Isn't it odd that none of this is mentioned to them. That Bad presents this idea as if he and Skeppy hadn't already formed not only the faction but the plans to facilitate conflict and snatch whatever they wanted out of the ruins? That he wasn't chattering away about the Fun they'd have when he proposed the idea to them? That he let them believe they were forming a new group on the spot in reaction to Schlatt? I don't even really think Bad let them in on the plan until a few days before the war despite having planned this all out with Skeppy only days after the election? That Bad let them take for granted their position as neutrals, and then as supporters of Pogtopia, only informing Ant and Sam of what had been the plan since before they'd joined the faction a few days before the event? And even then, he spoke of power, and of how they couldn't possibly stand in support of either faction after everything. He never spoke of the fact that this started as a little game. Because Bad was bored and didn't much mind what entertaining himself through chaos and bloodshed would lead to for others, so long as he maintained Skeppy's favour. Which is something Bad didn't relay to the others.
And looking at the way Bad treats their 'rise to power' for so long, it's all incredibly in line with his little game. I mean, half the time he's not even optimizing strategy here. He doesn't tell Ant or Sam his plans until it's happening, he suggests alliances and pulls away from them with ease given no real rhyme or reason, he abandons threads shortly after he pulls them and leaves a tangled mess of yarn on the floor rather than weaving together any truly effective plan, he negotiates for things he knows he can't get and never seems to bothered when it doesn't pan out, he's never entirely honest with Ant and Sam, even, if i'm being honest. He pushes for land and power and all, that's something he makes moves towards, and is something he's honestly really effective at getting, but it's all regarding so lightly. Like he doesn't care. Like it's all so much fun, just like he and Skeppy had planned for it to be.
And Bad literally continues to not care about much of anything and is very much amused by the goings on of the Smp.
Until he loses the one thing team that actually mattered.
Skeppy's team.
And I mean, yeah, the egg's influencing Bad right now, but the egg isn't actually complete mind control, and the things Bad does are still things he's choosing to do. His attempts to harm Sam. Puffy. Quackity. Everyone who'd ever considered themselves close to him. The way he spoke of power. Of taking over. Of a future for the eggpire, something those around him bought into, even those who believed him powerhungry and mad. Plans much like the ones he'd spun for Ant and Sam a million times before, even without the egg. Plans that were still no more important to him than they'd been during his little games earlier on, because Bad didn't intend to take power for the Eggpire, Bad intended to toss whatever the egg wanted at it and would be glad to sit in the ruins of whatever the egg left behind with Skeppy at his side.
The egg arc is all about Skeppy. He allowed himself to be infected to be with Skeppy, he's chosen to do all of these horrific things to his friends and to innocents and to children without hesitation for Skeppy, the only thing Quackity ever said that had him take pause was when he asked "if the egg can give you anything you want, why don't you have skeppy", the closest Bad's been recently to defying the egg was when Skeppy brushed him aside for it at which Bad lashed out at the egg, Bad insists that the egg will give him something nobody else could. Skeppy's his focus. His center. The only thing that matters.
And Skeppy's ALWAYS been.
Like, god, these things aren't new. The fixation on only Skeppy mattering, the lack of concern for everything else, the willingness to deceive and hurt even those who love him, this was all established in that very first stream when Bad proclaimed Skeppy to be the only side that mattered and they chattered enthusiastically about faction names and the fun they'd have at the expense of anyone and everyone else. This has been A Thing since the moment Bad actually like...became a character at all way back right after the election when he proposed a faction for the two of them. They planned then to recruit others as well, but the faction was there's, the faction was them, no person, no goal, no moral code, none of it was as important as their duo, their bubble, the badlands is Bad's show for Skeppy's amusement and the other people involved are glorified sock puppets who think they're special or that they matter. Nothing in Bad's motives or even really his morality or feelings towards other people has shifted much. It's always been Skeppy. Skeppy, Bad's own heart. Skeppy, Bad's life. The one thing that matters. The only thing that's changed is that before Bad was smiling, setting the world ablaze to see the way the light would reflect off Skeppy's eyes while they laughed about it, and now his Skeppy's gone, and I can guarantee nothings going to stop Bad from burning the rest of the world to the ground if it means getting him back. No other motivator, moral code, or loved one will stop him. Because there aren't any. Because there never were any to begin with. There was never anything besides Skeppy.
And that's just Really Cool and I feel like a lot of their story is at least slightly recontextualized by knowing how The Badlands were actually formed and it makes me sad how little it's thought of that from the beginning it was Skeppy and Bad and nothing else meant a thing. Cause that's a really unique situation with their characters and I need The Badlands being Skeppy and Bad's thing first and foremost above all else acknowledged more often cause it was them from the beginning guys-
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asherlockstudy · 3 years
Text
Rhett and Link’s problems with the Enneagram
I have now watched both Enneagram EBs and the second one actually set my gears to work (So Anon here it comes! I promise it was spontaneous).
After listening to Link and mostly Rhett talk about the Enneagram again and again, I realised I have a problem but I can not place its exact root. There is either something fundamentally wrong with the Enneagram itself or maybe it’s Rhett and consequently Link who talk about it in a way that made me feel a little uncomfortable.
My problem and cause of concern was that everything that was said during the two podcasts had a clear negative tone to it. I will have to bring in myself to it to give you an example so bear with me for a paragraph. I did the test and I am a 5 (Investigator - Observer, something like that) which suits me rather well, especially since it agrees perfectly with my Myers-Briggs INTP type. The results said I was a 5w6 (essentially an emotionless analytical robot) which is definitely wrong as I am clearly a 5w4 (a sad mess who analyses the world and searches pointlessly for the true meanings in life and wants to come up with the ultimate all-encompassing philosophy). I mean, OK, they are not described exactly like that but trust me, that’s the point. But despite all the flaws associated with it, especially in the fields of socialising and tremendous procrastination due to an insane fear of failure, I am actually very much in touch with it. I revel in analysing, in trying to see the bigger picture, to make up my own theory about life and the world. It gives me fuel to go on, it fills me with excitement, it gives me a purpose.
Now, what I kept hearing from Rhett and Link are the things they would hope to run away from. I can’t seem to remember a single positive thing they said about their personalities. All traits they mentioned ( which were all pretty one-dimensional for both I dare say) were presented in the context of torturing them and having to confront them. With these insights in their personalities and the spiritual deconstructions earlier, their old (surprising back then) statement that they are “fundamentally sad people” makes more and more sense. Some of their traits, like Link’s care for perfection to the smallest detail and his moral concerns could have been neutral or positive but, no, they are almost all given as clear negatives or at least as things that have an emotional toll on them.
This gives me the impression that Link and especially Rhett have found comfort in studying the Enneagram and try to find an explanation for what they are like, to feel part of a group, represented in their misery. In short, they focus on the analysis of the flaws of their personalities as a part of who they are and avoid dealing with the root that caused said flaws. Link is more self aware while Rhett still struggles to reach the root of it, which is his childhood. Not that he doesn’t know it but he can’t just deal with the people and the situations that impacted him enough to make him a three. For instance, Rhett seems to believe that he is a natural three that his parents made manifest even more strongly. It could be the case or the threeness we observe in him is the direct product of his parents’ constant judgement. By keeping chanting he needs to “be” instead of “do”, I am not sure Rhett will achieve much. Honestly, the one impactful step he needs to take is to stop caring about what his father thinks and I am sorry to say he is still not near achieving this. Especially when I take into account how scared he was during his videocall with his dad in GMM and how relieved he looked after the call was over without drama. In short, my problem with their take in the Enneagram is that it seems that Three is Rhett’s pack of unresolved issues rather than his complete personality type.
Furthermore, Rhett speaks knowingly about all numbers / personality types which proves he consumes passionately all Enneagram information that is available. For a man of his level of active lifestyle, hectic schedule and impatience, this shows that he indeed seeks comfort in finding a detailed description and an explanation for his personality, for the way he feels and acts. What does this mean? Well, that he does not like the way he feels about himself a lot. Not only that, but he is actually in a search of self. At this point, he is no longer cryptic about it but it is more serious than he lets on. He tries to make sense of himself and he tries desperately to find something in himself to love. I hope there are people in his life who let him know that he is worthy of their love, friendship and appreciation even though he is so deep inside his head that even the affectionate feedback can only help so much. Rhett will start finding some peace only if he takes the one step I mentioned above.
And then it seems that Link’s personality type is also exclusively a byproduct of his childhood and is aggravated by his relationship with Rhett. Link’s perfectionism doesn’t cause him enthusiasm - he just dreads the disturbance of his supposedly perfectly stable world. In all honesty, Link doesn’t strike me as an ambitious person. Link would just love to have his dear routine and a loyal person to share it with. Link needs stability and companionship. He is fine with just one person as long as this person contributes to the stability of their bond. Who that one person is in Link’s life is another story…
Link doesn’t care that much about the creative process and, frankly, he doesn’t care all that much about the comedy. Link cares to keep the environment Rhett and he work stable and safe. For Link, judgement from the audience is not as alarming as Rhett’s frustration because of it. Link cares to ensure that Rhett’s idea will be successful enough to keep working and to keep working together. So Link’s entire self-identification as a one seems to stem from his fear of abandonment and worthlessness only. Link fears he has not much to contribute to Mythical and he tries to counteract that by becoming the ultimate source of management and control. Because if he didn’t even manage the company, then what would Rhett need him for? Hence, Link’s obsession for control is a consequence of his fear, he doesn’t necessarily love to be in control for the sake of it. This is proven by his plane example, which shows that he finally relaxes when he does NOT need to be in control.
Link has been working hard most of his life to ensure his position next to Rhett. This brings even more insight in his resentment for Rhett that explodes from time to time. Link resents Rhett because he tries so hard to be always by his side but due to Rhett’s opportunitism, he can’t tell whether Rhett wants his companionship or he simply needs it for their brand. Even worse, Link dreads that the reason Rhett is his friend is because Link feeds his ego with his loyalty and admiration, because he takes Link for granted and not because he loves Link for who he is.
“Do you care for me or do you revel in the fact that I care for you?”
Now, I can’t get inside Rhett’s head but I doubt he uses people. I believe his genuine care for Link can be found in the weirdest examples - those from which Rhett has nothing to gain i.e getting frustrated when Link doesn’t enjoy food as much. Yes, this is a sign of love. Rhett enjoys food so much that he wants to share that enjoyment with Link. He can’t realise Link’s tongue works differently - he thinks Link is missing out and it frustrates him. Another silly example is Rhett buying Apocalypse equipment for a clearly disinterested Link and probably never getting its money’s worth back. This is important to Rhett for some reason and he is concerned enough to protect careless Link as well despite having no personal gain from it.
The truth is that these two men feed off each other; Rhett keeps Link attached to him to always feel worthy and Link keeps Rhett attached to him to always feel safe. However, the fact that Rhett is almost his entire source of safety and that Link is Rhett’s biggest calibrator of worth is indicative of the levels of love and need. Nevertheless, Rhett and Link are not independent people. They were constantly in search of support from one another and they lost themselves in the process of satisfying others or being safe. This is something they are realising only now.
Link’s fear of abandonment is so big that it frequently leads him to an almost paranoid behaviour. It is crazy that he felt left out when Rhett communicated with the audience during a podcast whose key purpose is to… communicate with the audience. His fear here has two sides: 1) that Rhett didn’t consider him an equally important business partner so he preferred to speak directly to the audience and 2) that Rhett isn’t emotionally invested in him in order to open up to him. And by saying he can deceive people if he needs, Rhett doesn’t help Link overcome his huge insecurities. This is why Link begs Rhett to talk to him about his feelings more. He does not understand whether Rhett loves him or uses him. The notion that Rhett doesn’t truly love or appreciate him is one of his biggest fears in life.
As for Rhett, it is certainly huge growth that he starts opening up and being vulnerable to a few thousand strangers yet it all still derives from his need to be accepted by said strangers as I am afraid that the late disproportionate criticism he gets for silly stuff on Twitter and Tumblr surely don’t help him deal with his issues, no matter how hard he tries. Therefore, Rhett is trapped in a vicious circle. Besides, Rhett was overly sensitive to be hurt when Link stated the obvious; that he was being vulnerable in hopes to be understood and accepted, because that was clearly what Rhett was openly doing. However, having someone discussing openly his vulnerability immediately made Rhett retreat back to his shell because no matter how hard he tries, Rhett hasn’t managed to separate vulnerability from weakness in his mind yet.
Long story short, Rhett and Link might be Three and One respectively but I am not sure they have a good understanding of themselves anyway. They may have figured out their types correctly but they certainly narrow their entire sense of being to their unresolved issues and phobias. They entirely lack a sense of self-worth and they probably have not realised the extent of the traumas in their youth. In the Enneagram language, the nine personality types have nine levels of development. I believe Rhett and Link are either in the average levels or the mildest unhealthy level. They are certainly not in the healthy top three levels.
Their obsession with the Ennegram helps only superficially but they seem to have based an illogically huge part of their self exploration on it. The Enneagram might offer some insight but won’t offer the resolutions they long for and badly need in order to find some relief. The ones that come when you confront your environment instead of overanalysing yourself and beating yourself up because of it.
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kono-rohan-da · 3 years
Text
Captain and Coach
Some time ago, @blueboltkatana requested this to be written: Hey uh, I'm embarrassed to be writing this cuz I feel like I'm telling you what to write, but I've had this prompt in my mind for so long. I was thinking how Daichi wasn't just captain for the crows he had to act like a coach as well for quite a while and so he is used to giving advice and helping his teammates but didn't have someone to do that for him and Ukai of course notices and tells him he can leave the team to him now it's ok, and Daichi breaks down because he didn't even realize how much that responsibility weighed on him all this time. I mean Dadchi deserves a dad sometimes too! If u don't like if u don't have to write it it's ok I don't want to seem like I'm telling u what to do!!
Now it's written 😉 On AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32628205Or, read below ----
When Ukai Keishin became Karasuno high school’s coach, he thought he would be expecting a chaotic team that doesn’t know how to behave with a coach in the room. Turns out, he was wrong.
Sure, the kids could be rowdy as hell and would screw around but they had drive. They put in the effort. They expected a result and in order to get that result they put in as much work they could as possible.
One thing Ukai regrets, though, is the amount of time it took him to realize why the kids are always so much of a team without his interference.
The realization comes after his first Interhigh with the team. The clue came when he was watching his team return to the sidelines after losing, getting ready to line up and thank Aoba Johsai for the game. In his head, Ukai was planning to say words of comfort and a good job. Calm them down a bet, maybe offer a few hugs.
He had to do exactly none of that.
Sawamura already had an arm around Nishinoya, his free arm raised so he could rub Tanaka’s head. He moved around so quickly from one player to the other, patting the heads of the first-years, hugging the second and third years, pulling Yachi and Shimizu into a small group hug. It’d be only a week later when Ukai would realize that even though Sawamura had dealt out comfort and kind words he hadn’t gotten any in return.
It’s not long until exam day comes. Practice continues but only every other day in the afternoon. Ukai decided to test a little theory out.
During practice after his little revelation, he gave a few commands for drills but left the rest to Sawamura. By some stroke of luck, Takeda wasn’t here to ask Ukai what he’s doing and why he’s staring at Sawamura so intently. Just like Ukai expected Sawamura easily steps into a position of command and support, telling his teammates what to do, suggestions of improvements, and words of motivation that make even Tsukishima move a bit faster.
Sawamura is always moving around. Most people don’t notice this with Hinata and Nishinoya constantly running around but even they stop. Not Sawamura. Always looking around to see if his teammates are good, briefly checking if shoelaces are tied, tracking movement, provided perfectly timed words. At times Ukai wonders if there’s something otherworldly inside of Sawamura. No, he’s just a kid who cares a lot more than most.
“Sawamura-kun!” Ukai calls at the end of practice. “Can you stay behind for a few minutes? I want to talk to you about something.”
“Okay,” Sawamura replies, a smile of agreement on his face with no hint of the annoyance or slight fear of having done something wrong that would have been on Ukai’s own face if his grandpa had asked the same of him back when he was still in school. Maybe there was once a time Ukai would have thought of Sawamura as too trusting of a kid with his response but now he knows better. In his own way that doesn’t have to do with education Sawamura is the smartest kid he knows.
Twenty minutes later the volleyballs are back in their cart and hidden in the storage room. The net has been taken down and it’s too quiet. Ukai and Sawamura are the only two left now, the boy’s jacket zipped all the way out with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
“You wanted to talk to me, coach?”
This already feels weird. He’s used to having to pull Tsukishima or Tanaka aside, sometimes Asahi to remind him to be confident, and all three of them have Ukai tilting his head up just a bit. He has to move his gaze below eye level to make eye contact with Sawamura.
“Don’t think you’re in trouble, kid.” He knows that Sawamura doesn’t think that. “I just wanted to give you a tip like you give your friends.” Sawamura’s eyes widen with interest. Ukai clears his throat. He hopes this doesn’t come out awkward. “You’re an amazing captain, the best I’ve ever seen. And even though you’re captain it doesn’t mean you have to pick up everyone’s slack and carry all the responsibility.” That sounds too much like an attack, gods help him.
“What I mean,” he tries again, running a hand through his hair while closing his eyes “is that I’m here to help, kid. I’m not going to steal your spot or anything. Just...you work so hard and I don’t want you stressing too much. So it’s fine if you want to take a step back every once in a while, sit on the side and just take a few sips of water or something. And if-” his rambling is cut off by a wet sniffle and a shaky breath.
Oh hell no.
Suddenly he’s panicking. He never expected this, never in a million years.
“Hey, are you okay?” Sawamura’s head is bowed, a steady hand out of his pocket which struggles to stay steady as it wipes at tears. Ukai quickly moves closer, placing his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Hey hey, shh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by that.”
“N-no, I’m fine.” The kid contradicts himself by sniffling again. His voice is wet and forced, too small. Ukai already knows that after this he’s going to open a new pack of sigs with how bad he feels. He made Sawamura cry. “It’s just that, just...thank you.”
Ukai freezes.
“I...no one’s ever tried to take some of the responsible,” Sawamura explains. His voice sounds so small, shoulders hunched forward and arms wrapped around himself like a hug. “I don’t want to complain. I don’t want to sound too lazy.”
“Kid, have you ever cried before now?” Ukai can’t help but say. Sawamura’s laugh is humorless and cuts into Ukai. The sniffles are louder and little sobs can’t be muffled anymore. Sawamura shakes his head. A burden, by definition, is something heavy. Generally too heavy to carry on one’s own. And here’s Sawamura not just carrying his own but those of others, making sure that the rest of his team doesn’t feel the pain and hurt and disappointment that can come at any moment.
Gently, Ukai unfolds Sawamura’s arms so that he can properly hug the kid, bringing him close with a hand wrapped around his back and the other on the back of his head, lightly rubbing circles along his spine. Sawamura’s hands, so small, grip the front of Ukai’s shirt, tears quickly soaking into his shoulder.
“You’re a wonderful captain,” Keishin says, choosing to do for Daichi what he does for his team. He’s going to make sure the kid hears these words, understands, and accepts that they’re facts. “You are an amazing defensive and offensive player. You’re willing to dive for the ball at any moment, to try new plays without the fear of failure. Or even if you do have that fear you don’t let it control you. From what I’ve heard from sensei you’re also a really good student.”
He doesn’t know how much time has passed. His throat is starting to feel a bit sore and his eyes had prickled with heat at some time but the words of positivity and support never stopped flowing.
“Thank you,” Daichi mutters at long last sounding utterly exhausted. Keishin ruffles his hair and pulls him back in for a tighter hug.
The next day, Daichi is one of the last people to arrive at practice, his walk leisurely. The hoops are still down from the basketball team’s morning practice. The gym isn’t chaotic at the moment, with most of the players talking to each other or bumping a ball to each other.
Keishin watches as Daichi ignores Sugawara’s greeting. This pikes his interest. He leans forward on the bench and watches as Daichi heads to the ball cart, grabs a volleyball, and walks to where the basketball court’s half-court line is. The boy draws his arm back and launches the ball at the hoop on the other side of the gym. By some miracle, it falls through the hoop.
The gym is silent.
Hinata, Kageyama, and Nishinoya openly gape.
Tsukishima and Ennoshita look like they’re about to go into shock.
Without looking away from the hoop, Daichi points at Tanaka, who is standing by the cart.
“Give me another,” he says, finally looking over his shoulder with an expression of childish glee on his face. Nishinoya beats Daichi to getting a ball and completely fails at getting the ball even close to the hoop. The rest of the team may be confused but Keishin is happy.
This is one of Daichi’s visibly happiest moments. How can he not be happy about that?
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putas-in-suffering · 4 years
Text
Revelations
Pairing: EZ Reyes x Female Reader/You
Rating: Explicit, NSFW 18+ older
Warnings: Language, unprotected vaginal sex, mentions of bodily fluids, breeding kink, daddy kink (EZ as Daddy is a fucking mood btw)
Word Count: 1.9K
Summary: A conversation about kids turns into a night of discovery and naughty confessions.
A/N: By popular demand, here is our resident soft boi fulfilling all our breeding/daddy needs and kinks. We mentioned EZ’s breeding kink in his NSFW Alphabet  and we wanted to gift you all with the man acting on it in the only way we know how...smut. Enjoy and share with your fellow sucias! Feedback is the preferred drug for our addiction and greatly appreciated 💖💖
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You snuggled closer into EZ’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heart echoing in your ears. You were only somewhat interested in the reality show playing out on television. A woman recently gave birth to sextuplets, the struggles documented for all the world to see. It was mildly interesting, but your thoughts were centered on the man lying beneath you, his arm cuddling you into his side like he’d done so many times before. His body was hard and soft all at once, warming you from the inside out.
“This is crazy…” EZ said in awe, gesturing to the program still playing out on the screen. You laughed at the sound of four babies crying while a desperate father tried to quiet them, the mother occupied with feeding the other two. It was chaotic, to say the least.
The scene made you think back on the few occasions you and EZ had talked about the future. He’d alluded to settling down with you, making you his wife. And he’d spoken generally about wanting to be a father. It was no secret that you both saw each other in your lives, raising a family together. It was the ultimate dream and you couldn’t wait to experience it all with him.
“How many kids do you want?” You asked against the firm planes of his chest, your fingertips sliding easily over the hard ridges of his abs as you spoke.
“As many as you’ll give me.” He replied, the smile in his voice apparent.
You paused for a moment, caught off guard by his ability to be both adorably sweet and undeniably sexy. He did that a lot. He may be a hard-looking, one-time felon, but EZ was all warmth and softness on the inside. He often played into his duality, melting your panties and heart. He knew how to work you, how to make you a prisoner to him. And this moment was no different. His words sent your body into a frenzy of desire.
You turned your head to look up at him, meeting his tender gaze. His lips pulled into a smile that made the blood rush to your pelvis. You pulled yourself up and threw a leg over his lap, straddling him. He welcomed your new position, hands already grasping at your hips through the oversized shirt your wore to bed. A flood of lust coursed openly through your veins, the need to have him inside you now overwhelming and unavoidable.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll give you as many as you want.” You murmured against his lips, rocking your hips against his. You could feel him start to harden beneath you, your walls already anticipating his entrance.
As much as he liked to think he could openly manipulate you with his boyish charms, you also held a power over him. You knew just what to say and how to say it to get him needy and feral. An unhinged EZ was one of your favorite sights. And you could feel just how much of an effect you were having on him. The product of his flirting now coming back on him tenfold.
“Really?” He chuckled, his fingers digging into your flesh as you moved above him. He was getting more aroused by the second, your insistent motions forcing his body to surrender.
“Mmm…” You hummed, nodding as you trailed your lips over his neck, feeling him shudder. “I’ll let you fill me up with babies.”
His hips jutted up against you, pulling a moan from both of you. Your words had their desired effect, his cock now alive and pulsing beneath you.
“Shit, querida…” He breathed as you nibbled at his ear lobe, your clothed pussy rubbing against him in desperation.
You could feel the fabric of your panties starting to fill with need, responding to the firmness beneath you. His sweats added to the friction, your clit now swollen and throbbing. Your nails dug into the muscle of his pectorals as you chased the tingles of pleasure, your body now consumed with the need to have him embedded deep inside you.
“EZ…” You breathed, his name a plea that signaled just how badly you ached for him.
He seemed to jolt alive at the lilt in your voice, recognizing the yearning. His lips attached to yours, his hands finding their way under your shirt. The calloused touch of his hands against your flesh made you shiver, feeling him hover over your heated core. His hips thrust up and rutted, feeling the dampness that had settled there. You gasped at the movement, your nails scraping against his scalp in blind passion.
“Baby, I need to be inside you…” EZ confessed against your throat with an almost pained groan, his fingers already pulling your panties to the side. “You ready?”
His fingertip dipped beneath your swollen lips, though the action was unnecessary. The slick that coated your body and his was evidence of just how ready you were. Your walls were pulsing in time with your own rapid heartbeat, prepping for the entrance of your lover.
“Yes, yes…” You chanted as you shifted his sweats down, letting the thick muscle meet the electric air. His cock was throbbing with desire, the head already leaking with his cum. You bit your lip at the sight, your pussy clamping around air.
EZ pushed your shirt up and over your head, his arms surrounding you as he pressed your naked flesh to his. You shifted your panties off, eager to feel all of him at once without a barrier. Your hips rocked against his cock, coating him in your essence. The flesh between you both was slick, propelling both of you further into manic passion. His fingertips dug into your ass in a dueling act of mercy and desperation while his lips sucked and nibbled along your breasts, finding a nipple and lavishing it with attention. He sucked harshly, but his tongue danced delicately around your nipple. Another show of the juxtaposition that was EZ Reyes.
“Fuck, baby…” You encouraged, head thrown back as you edged his tip into your walls. He filled you to capacity, the slight burn of your stretching walls a welcomed sensation. You moved slowly as you sheathed him with your willing body, moving until your pelvis met his. You could feel every ridge, every vein as it throbbed against your velvet walls. He was deep, no doubt touching your womb. You felt a small spasm ravish you at the thought of him emptying his cum inside your depths and breeding you. The notion was almost too much.
“You gotta move.” EZ gritted out with a clenched jaw, feeling your walls ricochet deliciously off his cock. His hands gripped your ass, aiding your movements as you began to ride him. His pelvis brushed your clit on each stroke, forcing your hold on his cock to tighten. You clutched onto his shoulders, letting your lower half move in rapid motions.
The sound of your body swallowing him eclipsed the television that now sat ignored. His hips began to meet yours, his arousal taking control as he took what he wanted. You cried out as he continuously hit your cervix, his feet now planted on the bed so he could gain better traction. He was grunting, harsh breaths and curses leaving his pouted lips as he impaled you on himself over and over again. You dug your nails into the flesh of his thighs. He hissed at the action and retaliated with a harsh thrust up, eliciting a whimper from you. Your back twisted in an almost painful arch as the lightning bolts of ecstasy now remained a constant, forcing your body to submit.
“EZ, I’m gonna cum, baby…” You moaned, holding onto him as he pushed up into you with wild fervor.
Your orgasm overpowered you within seconds, your entire body tensing around him. You clenched your eyes closed as you floated into a cloud of absolute bliss. You could feel your pussy contracting around his cock, hear the grunts of approval as he struggled not to finish yet. The remnants of your release saturated him, pulling him further into your depths.
You cried out when he suddenly flipped you onto your back, barely giving you time to recover from your climax. You fisted the sheets as he fucked into you, his hips crushing you with powerful force. He maneuvered your legs around his waist, pressing you as close to him as you could possibly get. He was chasing his end and you were more than happy to help him reach it.
“Cum in me, baby…fill me up.” You whispered against his ear, his face buried into your neck as his hips moved. The muscles of his back tensed, a curse falling from his lips at your words.
“Shit…”
“You feel so good, EZ. I want you to fill me up…let me give you a baby.” The words poured from your mouth as if on impulse, the urge to have him impregnate you now all-consuming. “Let me make you a daddy.” You continued, relentless in your pursuit to have him leave his mark inside of you.
He responded in kind, the brute thrust of his hips sending you up the mattress.
“Fuck, I’m cumming…” He growled as his cock painted your womb, his hips stuttering with every push. You locked your legs around him, holding him and his cum inside of you as he rode the wave of intense pleasure.
His heavy body collapsed atop you, his chest beginning to slow as his breathing returned to normal. Your bodies were now slick with sweat and lethargic with satiation. You ran your hands in soothing patterns along his back, feeling him soften inside you. You could feel a trickle of cum make its way past your lips, the abundance of his seed a testament to the fierceness of his orgasm. Even with him soft inside you, the extreme sense of fullness never left you.
“Did you mean it?” His voice cut through the moment, his head still pressed to your neck. He sounded tired, the slight slur of his words letting you know he would be unconscious soon.
“What?” You asked, your fingertips dancing over his scalp in soothing circles.
“Wanting me to get you pregnant.” He rasped, raising himself back on to his arms to hover over you.
You met his gaze and nodded, a smile breaking out onto your lips. You tightened your legs around him once again, your chest constricting with love at the way he was staring at you.
“I wanna be barefoot and knocked up with your babies, Ezekiel.” You breathed against his mouth, feeling him twitch to life inside you.
He kissed you, locking you in an passionate embrace. You moved with him, hands roaming each other’s bodies. He shifted his hips, the head of his cock catching against your depths and making you moan.
“Call me Daddy again.” He insisted with a smirk, a perfect storm of love and lust swirling in his tawny eyes. Your giggles were the only sound that could be heard as he attacked your neck with sloppy kisses. 
He made his intentions clear as he fucked you throughout the night, always filling you with his seed, always making sure he was deep enough so that he never saw a drop of it pour out of your body. That night he became your Daddy. And in time, you’d make him a daddy.
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