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ruinedarcadefinallywrites · 1 year

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Why Did You Bother To Stay?

Got talking on Discord about the possibility of a Damien counterpart in ISWM. Please ask questions about the boy he’s my little scrunkle. Thanks to @puppeteered-poetry for giving me the plot and brain worms.

A little fic on Celcis time in university, but will Fahren be there for the graduation?

WORD COUNT: 1.3K My longest fic yet (not a good start but oh well)

WARNINGS: A couple of swears, slightest alcohol mention

Eight years. Eight years on Earth. And it’s going to be their last. When Celci had first applied so eagerly to the academy, she, as everyone else applying at the schools first year of operation were told how much longer space travel would take. A beautiful dream that would be reached outside of their lifetimes, and how if they dedicated themselves to testing their fields, their children would see the stars.

How wrong they were.

Barely halfway through that same year, the first ship had been launched. Reaching out to the edge of the galaxy before summer. The issue of the speed of travel (which has managed to cause significant damage to over half of the original crew) was remedied with cryogenics. By keeping the human body in frozen animation, the remaining crew made into Draco II in the second year

Just in time for a quick switch of her major, originally reactor management, to cryogenics. One of her classmates had been devastated by her departure, so much so that during lunch, he’d quietly set down a stack of twenty something poems for her. Tales of sorrow and what Celcis so sure were actual tears drops on the paper. (Burt later had to come up to her and apologize, explaining that she’d just been kind to him and would miss her. Apologizing for the immense amount but he’s just been struck with inspiration. Celci still has a few of the best ones scanned and saved to her phone.)

Third year, exploration ships with minimal crew were sent out. At least one every few months, and she was star struck when she was invited to study the effects of cryogenics on returning crew. People who’d engrained themselves as space age legends just by being aboard the ship, at least in Celcis eyes. Faren had teased her that she had a crush on the captain of the ship, and had perhaps asked for a few too many reexaminations.

Quickly devolving into a match of who can throw each other into the wall first broken up by a very eager air defense major. Gunther had been disappointed that no, no they weren’t actually going to fight properly and no, he could not join in.

For the next four years, Celci completed a bachelors in cryogenics and decided to get a masters instead. “How on earth am I going to actually apply it properly if I don’t understand it?” A very familiar argument she’d had with most people, most of all Faren. It had seemed almost disappointing that he’d decided to drop out of his engineering courses, pursuing ethics and philosophy instead.

“Faren please, why would you stay here? All of philosophy will change when the explorations prove we’re not alone. How can you just leave? We were going to do this together!” Unsure whether or not it’s rage or upset, Celci had decided on both. Watching him move around the room like she wasn’t there, repacking his dorm to move out of the academy completely.

“And what would I do? There’s nothing interesting in engineering anymore. Learned how to create enough engines, and they barely have a difference! I want something that’s going to change rapidly, something that requires understanding!” During the half argument-half brooding fistfight, Farens hair had fallen out of its usual greased back position. Choosing to spike up like a wild animal ready to attack. Much more fitting to his current conflicted state.

“I’m going. Maybe my work will have a purpose in your future, but yours certainly won’t in mine!” Temper getting the better of him, he’s pushing her out of the door. Locking it behind himself as he packs in a huff. Something breaks in the boxes, but there’s not enough care in him right now.

Four months later, and it’s meant to be graduation. Meant, because it doesn’t feel like she’s earned anything. Since he left, there’s been not a single message from Feran. Even when she tried calling from Marks phone, he picked up for only a few seconds.

“Will you ever stop worrying? You’re going to be fine. Not everyone you know has to attend graduation. It doesn’t matter, you’ll want him there for something more important. Whatever you do after this is going to matter more than this.” Stopping her attempt at trying to keep that stupid cap on, she turns to stare daggers at Mark. Whatever he has been trying to adjust on his sleeves is dropped onto the floor, rolling underneath a table.

“Mark, I haven’t heard from him in months. He barely even talks to you anymore. It’s..we were meant to graduate together. Cyro and engineering get to work side by side, and he really loved it. At least I thought..”

Now, she can’t help but feel another pang of worry. She didn’t mean to push him away so far, down into what must be an abyss. Did he feel any regret about cutting off communication? Sure, he had flashes of rage, and a little too hot headed for his own good. In the end he always meant to be kind. Better than her most of the time, when she made decisions that were more cold that a can of liquid nitrogen.

Eventually something has to snap her out of the spiral, and it just happens to be a hard pat on her back. Enough to nearly double her over, and almost ready to smash someone in the face before she sees the apologetic face. Poor Burt always forgets his strength, used to smashing in bolts when the thread wears out. “Apologies. I just wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be late. Wrote a poem for you as well. Perhaps somewhere in the universe we’ll cross paths again.”

Placed carefully on the table, it looks like a steamed over matchbook. A tiny scribble on the top signifying it’s another part of Burt’s poetry collection. “We are all children of the universe, so what honour would it be to embrace it so kindly?” Some hesitation hides in his words, like it burns up the back of his throat. Knowing that his lines will be back to haunt him eventually. Poetry is just part of reality, past or future.

With a barely there smile, she nods. Mark patting her shoulders gently as he begins to walk past her. “We’ll be waiting for you. Come on, life is short after all. We could all be dead by tomorrow. ‘Specially if I’m beating..beating your..uh..brothers record..” Sheepishly, Mark goes back to adjusting the cuff links that aren’t there anymore. Sat and probably watching him spitefully from underneath the table. Leaving without another word to save himself, Celci is left alone.

Most of the dorm is bare, prepped to move out first thing in the morning. Besides the essentials, she’s let herself hold onto one more thing. A singular picture of Fahren and her, from last year. Just before he was going to create the keg stand record Mark wanted to break, she’d managed to get him to look at the camera for a few seconds. Glitter shot out from the same air defense major who’d broken up their fight has covered them, giving Celci icy blue hair and Fahren burnt orange.

Admiring the photo, she doesn’t notice the footsteps behind her. Only registering the presence when another hand is on her shoulder. Much smaller than Burt’s, and unrecognizable for a few seconds. Dreadful seconds where she turns around and socks them in the face. A very punchable face to Celci, and she only partially regrets it

Stretching out his now aching jaw, Fahrens dropped half the roses he brought for her. Strewn on the floor and crushed under their collective feet in the quickest fistfight they’ve had. “For fuck sake! Gods..all I did was touch your shoulder what th-“

Words are quickly smothered as he’s pulled into what’s more like a vice than a hug. At one point he’s sure his ribs are cracking from the pressure. “You little bastard. Four months and nothing? Screw you.”

“There’s time to kill me later, I assure you. You’re going to be late”

#iswm #iswm fic #iswm celci #celci iswm #fahren kelvina #celci kelvina #engineer mark #head engineer mark #gunther iswm #Burt iswm #ruinedarcadewrites

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bitegore · 1 year

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aggafshfdsgfhdfh wait. various magical girl transformations for my chaotic ass shitlord ocs

rex: he spins around and gets sparkly and then at the end of it just shoots you in the face because you were distracted by the lightshow. get fucked. hesitation is death loser

felyx: has a proper magical girl transformation and everything, shows up in a cute little purple dress with flowy sleeves, except at the end of the lightshow he just fucking disappears in a puff of smoke. so does your wallet

azkaileh/ayleh: magical-girl-transforms from big badass lady to bigger badasser lady. she gets a cool spear for her trouble but she doesn't use it because she can already shoot fire from her hands and punch you through walls without it and that's more fun

taz: magical girl transformation does nothing but fluff his hair up, unless he's in dragon form, at which point he immediately starts glowing. he gets more of a super saiyan transformation than anything else except he doesn't go blond. he used to transform cool armor out but he thought it was uncomfortable and petitioned the board of magical girl transformations until they'd let him stop

adder: are you prepared to be lit on fire and/or frozen to death? he hasn't done the magical girl thing since he was like 18, joined a pirate ship, moved to a different country, transed his gender and learned that there were more effective threats. now he will just put a hand on your shoulder if you're getting heated with him and smile and let you know you're fu-hucked if you want to keep on in this vein, but if you'll cut it out we can all be friends so why don't you sit the fuck down? but his magical girl transformation gives him a giant fucking sword and a cape that changes color every time you look at it

silas: she's already time-unlocked so frankly the magical girl thing is not that scary in comparison. she also doesn't use it often but it gives her a strength buff so it makes it easier for her to lug her plant experiments around. she also gets a giant sword and a cape that changes color every time you look at it but she doesn't wear those around while moving science from place to place, obviously, she just takes them off and leaves them somewhere safe. she's petitioned the board a couple times for it to be switched into a pen or something she can use for scientific purposes but they're not going to bend on the protector/fighter focus of the transformation so she just has to deal with that

velan: i cant say "fuckoff big clipboard" but i am sorely tempted to. if she were a mage she would use it to automate her fucking paperwork. she was the closerverse version of spec ops, she would be personally offended by the lightshow thing..... maybe she gets like shadowstep and shadow blades. i think that'd fit her personality. there's a big lightshow but she vanishes out of it literally the second it starts going and while you're watching she cuts your spine out of your torso. or something. but for the most part these days she doesn't use it and complains about how she can't use it to do import forms and taxes with

nadiya: FUCKOFF BIG SPEAR nadiya is already a spear person but her magical girl transformation is like "big spear. on fire. magic fire. stabs you and you burn green. get rekt" (additional post-story leveled-up diyel variant: still a giant spear but now it's a little more like a javelin. he can throw it off taz and hit people with it with uncanny video-game-tracker-style accuracy on account of how its a magic weapon. it explodes. no one wants to deal with him)

redshift: its just his takeoff/launch sequence. it is hot pink and full of sparkles. the sparkles are highly toxic and very hot ofc but they sure are pretty. but this has always been how i imagined him turning into a live sparkly triangle LMAO

#red rambles #redshift #rex #nadiya #velan #taz #ayleh #felyx #adder #silas

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the-firebird69 · 2 years

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You're constantly moving our shops and stores in and we're taking over everything we're taking it easy on the brand names but we are supplying the Earth with everything everybody needs and he's asking about it it's saying if we can't move in some stores and shops that they don't like and some things here probably should be able to move stuff in here he says I'm going to try it and we're going to try and do some of our plans here like there's nothing here allowed nothing it doesn't absolutely nothing for them we're also taking over the banks the rest of the banks we have four of the five big ones in his bank is outstanding the key Bank we don't have and it's owned by a different bank and trust Bank too both of those are not in but they're part of the same banking system and yes it's Chase Manhattan what were the power of our banking and the abilities we have shortly will be able to control it and control their Bank and we're forced to infiltrate it much more than before now cuz it's threatening everybody has accounts luckily these people are stupid and most of the people of their own

We have huge car companies on the way yes gigantic automobile companies and we recycling just about every vehicle you can see and we're changing over to the Tron drive globally for automobiles heavy equipment everything you see the movie aliens one of the movies has it in it and he was astonished he said wow it holds all that weight and does the driving that's amazing and if you think about it it's better than an axle the point load is not all over the place and the wheel can't move all over the place really it's prone to snapping off on the big vehicles all the time they always lose tires we have several huge trucks and tanks going around the world with this drive system and they all love it and they never breaks it's odd to watch because it's so strange with hollow wheels and it's hard to hit if you hit it underneath it doesn't do damage cuz it goes out the holes it looks like it blows up and it's just sitting there a tank or a truck kind of solves that problem it's a terrible day no there's a huge amount of dealers in Florida just sit there and don't do any business because nobody can afford the vehicles they put the prices so high that even the wealthy won't buy them cuz it stinks and our son is saying that we should ship cars in and we already do and we're shipping more and we're telling them the suggested retail price and if they don't do it we open our own dealership I'm tired of these people we're going to take that Kia dealership too I'm tired of them completely and kia will be defunct, they're going to revert back to Daewoo and use the name too just for their family names from a long time ago when they said they hurd us when they did not.

Thor Freya

We're in this now we can't stand these people you want the honor of taking that Kia dealership down and he's bestowing it on us and having us work with Thor Freya and Hera and others who worked against these people is crazy clan of cloners and it suits us fine to take it over and put it in our dealership for and he'll be next door he says with something but he's going to go guys monstrous screaming into him saying stuff all the time it's a bother but it's still dangerous and I need more of this harvesters and our son says there's no place better for them than the front line more or less because he'll feed and breed. We checked into it and it's happening to a degree and we know how to do this now

Korean God and Goddess and you're welcome and we enjoy it too there's a lot of things happening to you you don't understand since now I get it you're a little over the top and it'll become some sort of DJ and it's a little not my style and we do see that we didn't take this place over it's tiring and do it on purpose

Mission orders to them now and it's approved by Olympus and we are going forwards with the Kia plan which is to switch it over to Dawoo you can see it someplace here in Florida are sunsets and it did see it and it is working. We have a lot of plans like that

Mostly we're sending the knockoff but here we have to send the simpler version and tons of it before we can get to it knock off it's like a backwards land there's huge amounts of things he wants to do as for our stuff and for him to relax and us to relax and they won't they won't accept any of it so he says how about beer Halls and we have several companies in now they do use that system they set those up and when is Grolsch and pretty soon Heineken they go hand in hand and they have the same beer Hall usually so it's not a big deal and St Pauly girl too. But we do already have Grolsch. And we're installing them and we're trying to install one in Orlando and Tampa and Miami and Sarasota a whole bunch of places we've got requesting permits some places are using the existing structure and they don't mind that but really a beer hole is supposed to be downtown where other people are in Sarasota there is an area in downtown and normally a beer hall is someone outdoors in one story but you can have it indoors and outdoors but in a building and there's a couple places right near the strip or right on it and people are excited they want a beer Hall. And we're approaching the times people who run the town and offering free lifetime beer and things like that they say that's impossible to keep track of and they said you need to go who we are but we said we would do know you are, they laugh and said we did as long as itsclose. I thought they remembered you got to be kidding me I haven't gave 50 lb of still there no you are they're laughing said okay we got it that might be from the Grolsch if you said throwing food did you get a deal so we're doing that and we're working on it and the others want it now so we're doing that with them and we will have people in traditional garb and the girls do wear the traditional garb as well and I want to see that and they want to do the German thing so we're going to set it up it's not a huge beer Hall there's only seating for about 400 people that maximum and that restaurant downtown to the parking garage has seating for 200 and they said it's not really huge but it's big we'll have those big tables and it's an opportunity for guys trying to slip jesus's table in it says smiling good other cities wanted now they want the beer hall to be able to try to do that to her son including punta Gorda. The more I say they're going to have them sit at it and there's an argument going on and Max hate them. Somebody is saying something funny so it's getting added in there being repeated all over the place Stan and Chris will be the waiter and they're going to be serving so they can't stand it and they can't stand them they're starting to fight them now. Literally we have four offers to go to their towns and they'll give us tax breaks and incentives and we're going to go look at them now and our son wants to go with us and Ken, it makes a joke can be handsome with a large Grolsch can since hold on to the Ken, of course he smiles but we're putting them in because of this table and am I going all over the place because of the table it'd be a slightly different color but similar size huge huge request all over the place suddenly we see

There's a certain beer hall that goes along with American beers like Miller lite and cores and Old Milwaukee and it's a beer hall that's indoors and it uses seats but it long tables and people like it because they all sit at the same table it's like a cafeteria and he said that we can serve like masses of things like a metal bushel of chicken wings for like everyone there and he doesn't know how to pay for it or anything but since it's a good idea and put out like a huge thing of onion rings like a giant of sliders and he started to think of having people to pay for it an entrance fee or by drinking and we said it would have to be by drinking then he said maybe they just order the thing and along with bushels of glass beer bottles or cans probably bottles and in a place like that you said kind of changes it what really is done is you you bringing this big bushels of food and the order tons of beer by the mug they're like four dollars $5 a month because they're big this is okay we'll do that and the bush will be like real big on the weekends but usually a bottle 17 inches across but he was envision like two and a half for the cross and I got foot and a half deep just gigantic bushels of wings and other things but that would be on the weekends or high volume so it's what we're going to do and hard not kick her 5150 and regular light cycle and all sorts of motorcycles are going to sell cuz people love going there motorcycles tons of them not that many rev track but this increases sales and they wanted all of the world so we're sending out huge sales teams to secure the deal and lawyers and Realtors of ours it Hera's pretty smart we think she thought of it. She also doesn't want to get happy here not too happy it needs him out.

Thor Freya

We're going to rock and roll on this were going to get this done and it's going to be a lot of fun there's a huge amount of beer that we have to sell we made a ton and they stop drinking it. There are locations in Florida that would be perfect for this so I'm going to start applications those big long tables that can incorporate the other table if they could get away with it and we're going to do it now and we're going to keep going on that kind of thing it's a good time we have beer too and you can order that it's cheaper tons of people will. He thinks we it's awesome and we're working and we're going to have a better day everyday and that's something we can count on and I thank him too and I'm looking forward to September at Ronson stinks here all alone and too afraid. He promises I'll have a network of people and it's going to be great they have been working on me too it's true too I have training and I have carb and I have a it's a system of garb and eventually I'll show you what to do cuz you need training like crazy

Hera hahaha LOL he says I won't afford too much of it because until I'm laughing

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morifinwes · 3 years

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wangxian fic rec list!

aka in which i read fics, write some recs down for aamna and share them!! they're all wangxian fics and uhh @yibobibo i hope you'll like them!!

modern

wolf devours playboy bunny by @greenteafiend (5K, werewolf!lwj, getting together, idk if anyone needs to know that but there's nudity just not uhh explicit)

Lan Zhan has wanted Wei Ying as long as he has known him, and the worst part is that he thinks Wei Ying could want him back.

Too bad he could never in good conscience let himself go there—Wei Ying has a debilitating fear of all things canine, and once a month, Lan Zhan is the exact, precise thing that Wei Ying’s nightmares are made of.

Aka, Lan Zhan is a werewolf.

between the lines by @jywait (19K gaming au!!!, i'm always down for a good gaming au, lwj is the best aksks he's such a good boy)

☆yilingpatriarch☆: pls...give me some face, help me fight these monsters...I'm gonna die

Bluetooth: no.

"You have died." The screen said, and Wei Wuxian threw his hands up in frustration.

resonant frequencies by chinxe (15K, college au, fake dating au, tw mention of cheating but it's brief and no one was cheated on i promise)

In which Wei Wuxian decides that the best way to deal with being in love with Lan Wangji is to pretend to date him for three weeks.

It goes about as well as can be expected.

drift compatible by windoworwhatever (5K, poetry, fluff, drunkji, getting together, college au)

"It was just a fact of life. The sky was blue, university stipends for graduate students working in TA positions barely covered rent, bisexuals cuffed their jeans, Lan Wangji had a massive crush on Wei Wuxian, and spent his time pining and writing research papers about gay subtexts in ancient poetry."

Lan Wangji is in love with Wei Wuxian, and everybody knows, except Wei Wuxian.

the bunny next door by detailsinthefabric (43K, this is mostly fluff and very light angst, and they were neighbors!!!, rabbits!!, aka wangxian's bunny children, this is... so cute i just have to rec it)

Lan Wangji did not know what he was doing. He did not know what he was going to say. He was frozen in place, puzzling over the situation. Maybe he had made the man uncomfortable, which is why he wanted to leave? But his tone had still been so friendly—maybe…

“Would…” he paused, swallowed, forced the last words to come out of his suddenly parched mouth, “would you let me pet him?”

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

Lan Wangji, who doesn't know how to socialize and whose icy demeanor scares everyone away, lets down all his defenses when he meets the bunny next door...oh, and also its owner, Wei Wuxian.

leading tone by silencemostofall (32K, everyone is a music student? or something like that akskk, curse fic, tw panic attacks, tw child abuse, small scene of drunkji, wwx has low self esteem, bro this was so painful to read)

The first time you touch someone you're fated to love, you leave a mark on their skin. If they will love you in return, they'll mark you where you touched them. The deeper the color, the deeper the connection.

Wei Ying has no marks at all.

public places, private thoughts by leahelisabeth (for the love of camelot) ( 8K, cherry magic au, getting together with like... immediate upgrade to fiance status, the author is wrong i crave good wangxian cherry magic aus even tho i haven't even watched cherry magic)

Wei Wuxian had heard the story of course. It had made its rounds through his high school and followed him into his college days. He didn’t think there was any possibility it was true. Virginity was a social construct, invented by creepy old men to exercise dominance over women. The idea that a simple lack of sexual activity before the age of thirty could give one magical powers was absolutely ludicrous.

Wei Wuxian believed this until the morning of his thirtieth birthday.

AKA the Wangxian Cherry Magic AU that absolutely nobody asked for.

i'd be all right (if i could see you) by @thirtysixsavefiles (16K, this was nice, i read this at 6am but it was cute, (while writing this post i must admit i don't remember anything but 6am-me said it's good))

The younger Lan brother is something of an enigma on campus; while Lan Xichen can sometimes be seen in the company of other graduate students or conducting a seminar, Lan Wangji appears to spend all his time in class or in the library. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. He doesn’t attend social events. He doesn’t do anything for fun, as far as Wei Wuxian can tell, and it’s driving Wei Wuxian just a little bit up the wall.

Or, Wei Wuxian convinces Lan Wangji to come to a house party, and then they're assigned to the same group project. Wei Wuxian tries his best, but he is not in possession of all the facts.

axe on leg by itszero (4K, i still don't get why wwx did that but it was nice seeing him jealous for once, jealous!wwx, lwj i love you....)

Wei Wuxian pressed his face into his pillow and screamed. He paused to take a few deep breaths, partially hindered by the pillow, and listened to the sounds of Nie Huaisang slurping his iced coffee, from his seat on Wei Wuxian's desk chair.

Having caught his breath, he resumed his screaming and did not stop at the sound of his dorm room door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" He heard his brother, Jiang Cheng, ask.

The slurping stopped. "He's an idiot."

"He's always been an idiot. Why is he bothered about it now?"

"He forced Lan Wangji to go on a date," Nie Huaisang replied, shaking the ice cubes in his drink.

"Okay and…?"

"With someone else." The slurping resumed.

Wei Wuxian, in all his glorious dumbassery, convinces his boyfriend to go on a date with someone else.

these two most powerful by @stiltonbasket (4K, amnesia, wangxian with children!!!, aksksk this was adorable, dadji!!)

When Lan Wangji went to bed last night, he was alone in a tiny guest room with nothing but the howling of the wind in the mountains and his own lonely thoughts for company.

But when he opened his eyes in the morning, Wei Ying was asleep beside him.

(In which Lan Wangji loses twenty years' worth of memories after a night-hunt gone wrong, and his life as a doting father and husband continues without a hitch somehow.)

good things come to those who wait [but i ain't in a patient phase] by @cerlunas (4K, getting together, pining lwj)

Lan Wangji can't take it anymore.

“I love you”, he says, and god, it feels terrifying. “I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

“Lan Zhan…” Wei Wuxian starts, but Lan Wangji doesn’t want to hear it.

He grabs his cup and drinks everything. He doesn’t know what face Wei Wuxian is making at him right now, and it’s okay.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian repeats louder, but it’s too late. He is already falling asleep.

Or, even after 13 years, Lan Wangji is still in love with his best friend. Maybe it's time to open up.

wei ying, will you marry m- oh my god he swallowed the ring! by selene210 (2K, marriage proposals, crack, marriage proposals but.. they go wrong)

“A ring?”

And indeed it was. The ring Lan Wangji was going to propose to Wei Ying with. That the man had now choked on.

“You swallowed it.”

“It was in my soufflé! Why did you put a ring in my soufflé Lan Zhan- oh. oh”

of glittery valentine's cards by @soft-fics (3K, valentine's day, this was adorable aksk, a-yuan best boy!!)

Lan Zhan didn't want to know what his best friend had planned for Valentine's Day; his heart would simply not be able to handle it. When his son tells him that he made Wei Ying a Valentine's Day card, though, Lan Zhan decided to bring it over anyway.

of coffee and white tea by @soft-fics (9K, fluff, lwj doesn't like coffee, wwx buys him coffee, then they switch drinks, again and again and again, the staff ships it lmao, tbh jc shouldn't have done that like wtf)

For the fourth time this week a stranger orders him a cup of coffee. Lan Wangji wonders how exactly to tell this man to stop ordering him coffee he doesn't even like. Turns out, buying the other white tea and switching drinks is not the best way to go about it

canon setting

on the importance of restraint (or lack thereof) by nixthothou (4K, in which sizhui snaps, i love that boy, no like seriously he's the best boy)

Lan Sizhui does not usually find himself in the company of Sect Leader Jiang.

Suffice to say, Lan Sizhui's feelings toward him are conflicted.

lan wangji is wei wuxian's baby by lilycs (3K, i was craving fluff while reading this, lwj my beloved, drunk!lwj)

Lan Wangji gets drunk from barely a cup of alcohol, becoming a whiny baby and asking his husband for cuddles.

one of our own by glitteringmoonlight (8K, wei wuxian & lan sect, 5+1 things, in which they learn to love him, they're all part of the wwx protection squad lead by lwj, wangxian isn't the focus but !!! THIS)

Times change, but some people remain the same.

The Lans are nothing, if not aware of this.

For one of their own, they will stand against the world.

Or, 5 times the Lans defended Wei Wuxian, and the 1 time he was there to see it happen.

so why not crack your skull when the mind swells by @greenteafiend (13K, love curse, post cql canon, curses, getting together, fluff, so much fluff, lwj tries to talk about his emotions!, lwj pov)

Lan Wangji detects the curse trying to curl through his heart meridians like smoke. A love curse, then. It must have been cast remotely somehow to have found him in his bed in Cloud Recesses. No matter. Lan Wangji crushes it easily, enveloping it in his spiritual energy, and then squeezing. Curse averted, Lan Wangji closes his eyes and goes back to sleep. He thinks no more of it.

Two days later, Wei Wuxian arrives in Cloud Recesses.

Or, Wei Wuxian is cursed to feel terrible pain when he and Lan Wangji aren’t touching.

i started from the bottom / now i'm rich by x_los (57K, time travel, fix it, jealous lwj, crack treated serious, god this is so good tho, wwx/wrh & wwx/jgs but like as a joke and it doesn't really happen, but it has its purpose!!)

“First, you get the money. Then you get the power, respect - hos come last.”

Wen Qing traps Wei Wuxian in the Demon Slaughtering Cave, but Wei Wuxian isn’t interested in being the beneficiary of the Wen Remnants’ noble sacrifice. His efforts to free himself accidentally send him back to the beginning of the Sunshot Campaign. Coreless but armed with demonic cultivation, knowledge of the future and his wits, Wei Wuxian takes advantage of this opportunity to come out on top of both the war and its aftermath—before either has a chance to happen—by marrying and swiftly burying the cultivation world’s worst men.

Lan Wangji is confused, hurt, and uncomfortably aroused by Wei Wuxian’s improbably elaborate series of Sect-themed bridal negligees.

lead me on through by mrsronweasley (55K, they're in love your honor, arranged marriage but they don't know to whom, basically wwx & lwj want to practice kissing which then goes beyond kissing but not the whole way y'know, lxc the best wingman tho)

"Who do you think your betrothed is?" Wei Wuxian asks, sprawling out in front of Lan Zhan and enjoying the prim thinning of his lips at the question. He shouldn't be sprawling—they're in the library, for one, and Lan Zhan is studying, for another—but he can't help himself. Wei Wuxian is a sprawler.

"I do not believe this to be of importance," Lan Zhan responds, without turning his gaze away from his book.

"What!" Wei Wuxian sits up. "How can you say that? Of course it's important! This is the person you'll be with for the rest of your life, Lan Zhan."

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deaconusdelirium · 3 years

Text

Reader Receiving unwanted advances

———

Hunter≈

He immediately notices the change in attitude and body language you gave off. What was suppose to be a ‘quick in-and-out’ mission from Tech, went on longer than expected. And it seemed the longer you both stayed at the cantina, the more people you attracted. And Hunter didn’t like it one bit, yet he didn’t show his jealousy, that was until one person got a bit too touchy and passed your set comfort zone. The words that left the mans mouth and they way he touched you made him feel uneasy himself, he was about to comm Tech about the progress but felt you press against him, telling the guy to stop. Hunter stood up, walking around to block you from their view, “I’d leave if I were you, or else this is going to get ugly. Fast” his voice was deeper than usual, looking down while the guy took one last glance at you then walked off.

Crosshair≈

Crosshair would probably be the most psychical out of the Batch, taking things to higher heights than it had to be. He likes to play with his food first, so when a particular someone tries to fix your stance at the shooting range for you, his eyes looked where the persons hands were, glaring at the man as they moved in unpleasant trails along your body. Crosshair stood up, wanting to make sure the situation was ok before making a scene, a scene he wanted to play out, he seen you step away, but the person tried to grab you again, and when he heard you raise your voice slightly, he stepped in. The marksman was tall, so he looked down at the civilian, who tried to excuse Crosshair and try to talk to you again, “how pathetic,” he took his toothpick out, “try shooting your shot one someone who’s not taken” he flicked the stick at the person chest smiling in the process, distracting them as he threw a punch their way. Then pulling you out the range

Tech≈

He doesn’t see the discomfort displayed on your face, he brushes it off and continues what he was searching for at the market. Trying to buy new parts for the Marauder. While being Techs helper was an easy job, it was also no trouble finding wandering eyes that prayed upon you. One minute, Tech is answering all your questions, correcting the little facts you tried to remember he told you before, and seeing if any of the parts you handed him was what he needed before either say ‘yes’ or ‘no’. And the next minute, you’re quiet, there’s no sound of your boots following him or the tools you showed him. His helmet warned him, showing his heart rate had gone up just a bit, out of worry. He scanned around, seeing you push away the pedestrian that happened by, he squinted, getting a better look. All it took for him was that small “stop” before he dropped whatever he had in hand, on the table. He’s not one for getting into fights, so to make it quick and easy, he’ll go up and tell them to back off “I advise for you and for other safety purposes, to collect your intrusive actives and move along. You won’t gain anything but a few broken bones if your thoughts prove otherwise” he’ll calmly say before making the guy leave

Wrecker≈

So Wrecker can see how much you’re uncomfortable in the current situation, and he hates seeing you in that position. So he’s quick to be by your side, he likes to get a laugh out of it if he can, so when he notices you step away from a random guy, Wrecker and Omega put their Mantell mix down and stand in beside you. Omega’s not that threatening, she’ll tell the guy to leave you alone or else, which escalated to the guy picking on her, Omega only glared at the guy while he continues to ramble, and when he looks up. There’s Wrecker standing behind you two, arms crossed with a small smirk on his face. Makes him look mean. With a small “you mess with them, you mess with me. You wanna say that again?” before he cracks his knuckles, then just breaks into laughter after the man runs off terrified. Omega will tell him off then turn to you, smiling while Wrecker puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder. Taking you back to your ‘tradition’

Echo≈

Echos clone instincts really kick in when someone bothers the ones he hold dear to his heart, it’s like a switch that’s been flipped, he’s stood up for Rex when others tried to talk him down, and he’ll do it for you. He’s at your side all the time, so nothing gets past without him knowing. But one day, while talking to Tech about some adjustments to the ship, he lost sight of you. Once he spots you being held in place where you all previously walked through, he weighs his options on how he should go about the situation. He eventually settles on pushing the person hand off of you and leading you away, if the person won’t take it as a sign to leave, he’ll stop and wait for their response. The person barely said anything before Echo let out a short “No.” before walking off, his glare was enough to let the person question his ways.

———

#Hunter x reader #Crosshair x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #omega #Hunter TBB #Crosshair tbb #tech tbb #wrecker tbb #echo tbb #omega tbb #the bad batch #star wars #star wars tcw

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infinitewarden · 3 years

Text

Osiris isn’t Savathun.

Great! Now that I have your attention:

Man you guys tire me out about Osiris. If you truly believe this is Osiris I don’t mean to sound like That Guy that’s like “you don’t know what you’re talking about” but... You don’t know what you’re talking about.

So.

Let’s talk about how much Osiris cares about the City and humanity and why the Osiris in Epilogue is not actually Osiris.

Alright. Let’s start off with context. I think it’s super important to see what we do know as Osiris’s views. From my heavy analyses of him since 2020 I can confidently say these are what he views as the most important things a person can do:

Keep promises

Speak their truths

Protect the City & Humanity

Know that the Vex are true Evil.

Now, I won’t be doing a breakdown of each one individually but I will be talking a great deal of how important honesty is to Osiris, the City, and his views of the Vex.

Speaking honestly and bluntly.

I don’t know how many of you were into Destiny before Beyond Light, so if you were unaware of this it’s not your fault. However I’ve seen a very strange change in tone when it comes to how people view Osiris. Before Season of Hunt people hated - and I mean hated - Osiris. Why? Because he was blunt. They viewed his bluntness as rudeness.

To see a sudden switch to him being secretive and scheming is... alarming, to say the least. (And to see people think that this is the norm is also alarming but in other ways.)

The Osiris before Hunt was not secretive and scheming. He sought knowledge openly. He sought, specifically, the truth. I must stress just how open he was about his plans. First I’ll give you a few in lore examples:

I admit, I found your questions divisive and disloyal, and I feared you might be capable of breaking our unity when the City's position had grown so tenuous. Why divert attention away from the Traveler, our only hope? And then it got worse, dabbling in thanatonautics, Ahamkara-lore, chasing after Xur and the tricks of the Nine. Launching expeditions into the Reef and beyond at a time when ships were irreplaceable. Your quest split Guardians along ideological lines. This was your greatest crime: Hunters chose to pursue your visions instead of protecting refugees, Titans assembled teams to chase the legendary Vault of Glass instead of striking the Fallen, and Warlocks turned away from the study of the Traveler in favor of your ultimate obsession... learning the exact nature of the Darkness. ... Perhaps what drives a Warlock to madness is truth.

Osiris.

"Do not romanticize this burden. We wield a weapon." The Speaker shakes his head. "The Light wields you, Osiris. You are what you make of it. A glorious extension of its majesty, in many directions." Osiris paces at cadence with his words. "Then it would do well to speak clearly. To better direct me." The Speaker cocks his head. "Without will? Then it would be no better than the Darkness." "I am asking only for guidance; it is a delicate game we are playing." Osiris's voice, distressed. Regal again, the Speaker motions to the stone garden. "Will you sit with me?"

13: Margins Part II.

And, while I don’t particularly like using the Fall of Osiris comic as a source, it does have very important lines on his viewpoints that I find relevant yet.

Fall of Osiris #1.

Hell he was open about his plans to fuck with time itself to bring Saint back.

Sagira narrowed her eye at the rogue Lightbearer and lowered herself to Osiris’s shoulder. “Why’s he here?” she asked quietly. “I asked him to consult on the engineering work,” Osiris replied, crossing his arms. “You sicko,” the other man declared, walking a circle around the Warlock, his eyes darting along every surface of the Sundial around them. ... “Just one more question, then. Why all the fuss?” “I owe him.” “I owe a lotta people, Warlock. You’re opening the gates of hell with a Vex key.” “When the Traveler brought me back, I had no friends. No family—” “No one had anything in the Dark Age.” “But Saint was always there. And I saw him grow from neophyte to demigod.”

The Sundial.

"You haven't left the Forest in years," Ikora said to Osiris, the only one to address him directly. "I need help," Osiris replied. "I know," Ikora responded, hands clasped behind her back. She stared intently at her former mentor. Back in her Crucible days, that uncompromising gaze was often the last thing her opponents saw. Aunor glanced sidelong at her superior. Harper coughed and looked down at his datapad. "Two years ago, Guardians entered the Infinite Forest," Osiris continued. "They aided me in defeating the Axis Mind Panoptes, preventing a Vex apocalypse from befalling this system. "In the process," he looked between each of them in turn, "Some Guardians reported a body they found in the Forest depths." Ikora sighed. "Saint-14 never came back from that last mission to Mercury. We finally knew why. I reacted to it the only way I knew how."

Desperate Times.

“I do not understand all of this code. This is Geppetto’s specialty,” Saint-14 says while standing bent over a wide desk covered in data tablets. Holographic images of the Lighthouse shimmer in the Hangar lights. “We could use the Crucible right now. Your trials. This will be very helpful. You mean to stay, yes?” “I will. Long enough to show you how to implement the simulation; but tonight, I must disembark,” Osiris says. “So soon?” Osiris tenses his jaw in forced silence. He twiddles with code. “I’m worried about what Vance found.” Saint places a heavy hand on Osiris’s chest. “Let go of your obsession. Do not leave chasing phantoms again.” “Phantoms… You think the Darkness is satisfied? This is just the first move. I need to know the next before it’s made.” “If there is something you fear, let me help you. We face this together.” Osiris’s mind drifts to the Dark anomalies. Saint doesn’t need another burden. “The safest place for you is the Tower, Saint. Time... tends to renege on its gifts.” “So, your mission is dangerous?” Osiris considers lying. “Potentially.”

Immolant I.

There are many more sources I could list on his bluntness and honesty but there’s honestly too much. What is important to extrapolate from all of it is this:

OSIRIS SPOKE THE TRUTH NO MATTER IF IT GOT HIM IN TROUBLE. IT IS ONE OF THE MAIN REASONS HE GOT EXILED.

Protecting the City & Humanity

Idk where people get the idea that he’s abandoned the City and humanity. And I don’t understand where people think it’s “typical Osiris behavior” to choose to put the City in danger.

I want to make something very clear here:

Osiris was exiled. He did not abandon the City. And though others view him as abandoning it, that wasn’t his intention. He never intentionally abandoned it. Everything he did was in pursuit of a brighter future for humanity. Let’s look at one of his lines from the Sundial activity during Dawn.

“By the time I left the City, many believed my practices to be sacrilege. But my methods have prevented countless futures not unlike the one you walk now. When it is laid out before you, would you not sacrifice anything to see this future shut?”

The Sundial.

He left because he weighed his options and he saw that humanity would have better use of him if he left. He cares A great deal about the City. He cares almost too much about it. He would never give Lakshmi the technology to cause it harm, especially knowing that she’s unstable. And I’ve seen some people think he’s playing 5D chess? In what world would he ever choose to bring harm upon humanity for some sort of... agenda; which I’ve already cleared up earlier, he’s open about his plans.

Let’s look at more known lore about Osiris’s feelings of the City & humanity.

"You've wrapped your mind around an idea of your own making. I have always tolerated this fawning 'movement' of yours, but this is a step too far." Osiris seethed. Brother Vance was awestruck. He stared blankly at Osiris, unsure of what he could say to quell his anger and dissolve his frustration. "What I have discovered…" "…is dangerous enough to destroy every man, woman, and child in existence. You're meddling with forces outside your grasp," Osiris reprimanded. "I warn you here and now, remove yourself from this Lighthouse. Find a simple life. Start a family. Write music. Leave Mercury and this fool's errand behind."

Chapter 8: Idolatry.

Osiris was furious to find out Vance was experimenting in his name by endangering people for his goals. And he was especially mad that he would dive into such dangerous areas so much so that it had the potential to destroy humanity.

"It's truth." Osiris considers this. "Truth seems subjective these days," Osiris says, finally observing his entourage for the first time. Among them, a small group of men and women, stand two wayward Guardians—Warlocks, it appears—and a child. Their forlorn faces resonate with him. Castaways and believers. The weeks since his departure from the Last City have worn on him. He was used to working alone, knowing he could fall back to the City's resources should he need them. Now, adrift in the expanse of purpose, he finds himself longing for a place he could return to. A sanctuary.

Chapter 2: Postexilic.

Here’s a few lines from Season of Dawn:

“The Traveler, mutilated. Mercury, a desolate warzone. This is the bleak future the Cabal wants for us all. We do not know what has become of humanity here. I hope we will not find out.”

“There are many terrible futures, but I have not grown numb to seeing them. The future the Cabal wish for is a nightmare for humanity.”

“If the Traveler fled the system, there is a chance that the Darkness would ignore our region of the galaxy entirely. It would sacrifice our second awakening, our ability to wield the Light, but potentially continue our Golden Age. There are too many variables at risk, but it's a variant path worth investigating in the Infinite Forest.”

“This battered Mercury is a blueprint for our system. Lightless, bowed, and nothing more than fuel for an endless war. It must never come to pass.”

The Sundial.

There are many. Many. More lines I could put here about how much Osiris doesn’t want to see humanity suffering. And especially how he doesn’t want the City to be at risk. But I think you get the picture.

Know that the Vex are true Evil.

So. We all know Osiris as “the Vex guy.” His whole thing is on fighting the Vex. However it seems people think that he’d be okay with using them for grounds of a higher purpose? Or something? I don’t know, everyone I see rebuffing Osiris’s actions with Lakshmi don’t seem to be interested in explaining this one.

So anyways. Let’s talk about how Osiris views the Vex as true evil compared to other species.

“The Fallen are not so different from us. How hard would you fight if the Light were taken from you?” “Those stories ring false to me,” said Saint. “They are not a noble people. I’ve fought them, and so have you.” “I have not fought them all,” the Warlock replied, pulling his hands apart to create an intricate web of hovering cubes and points of light. “They are nothing, no threat—not like the Vex. Not like the Darkness.”

Vanguard Commander.

[u.2:06] Have you spoken to the House of Light, like I asked? [u.1:07] I would rather not speak with Fallen. [u.2:07] They may need our help. Their cause is just. [u.1:08] What happened to “trust no one?” [u.2:08] What happened to your sense of right and wrong, hero?

Maintenance Operations Log 30037.

The unenlightened wonder at my so-called "fixation" upon the Vex. They believe our gravest existential threat is the Hive, for those beings have made a pact with the Darkness itself via the medium of the Worm Gods (according to Toland, at least, and I see no reason to doubt him in this). But Darkness is not merely absence of Light. Darkness is an entity unto itself. Put simply, Darkness is not Nothing. But the Vex? The Vex seek neither Light nor Darkness. They seek Convergence, the reduction of all life to its simplest, most meaningless form. An entelechy of zeros and ones. "Evil" is a word for sentimentalists and fools. But, in the ontology of the sentimental, the Vex are more deserving of the term than the Hive. Given a choice between Darkness and Convergence, I would choose Darkness. It is a logical choice. Yet for this they banish me.

Kairos Function (Hunter).

This one is important because Osiris doesn’t subscribe to the idea of “good” and “evil”, and that he would go so far to say that the Vex are Evil shows just how much of a threat he views them as.

It’s just. Mind boggling to me that people think that Osiris would be okay with a Vex invasion. That Osiris would encourage Lakshmi to open up a rift to “send the Fallen away” (Despite being one of the earliest sympathizers!) Osiris isn’t ineffable, he’s just a man trying to do his best to help humanity. His actions aren’t difficult to understand, they have been written to be very clear and with understanding his motives.

Saying that it’s natural for him to be secretive and have contradicting opinions and actions is just. Wrong. It’s not him. It’s not how he’s supposed to be understood. Even in Curse of Osiris I don’t think his actions didn’t make any sense.

This is going to sound very mean but I want to be 100% clear: If you think that Osiris would actively choose to put the City in danger of the Vex, if you think that he would actively choose to stand calmly and watch as his lover was about to die to the very things he spent millions of lives to save... You don’t understand Osiris. Go back and reread his lore.

I leave you with this:

The Vanguard is dubious of our intent and ability, fearing corruption and displacement. They do not trust me. You were held in similar contempt for speaking your truth and empowering free thought. You know what it feels like to be chastised and labeled a traitor. We are mere steps away from a disintegration of our institutions, and they cannot see destruction staring them in the face. ... For so long, we have clung to the Light, denying the strength offered by the Dark. By using Stasis, we will end this war. We see this contest for what it truly is: a game, played by our adversaries. And we have been the pawns. We are pawns no more. This is not a battle I want to wage without you, although we may not have a choice in the matter. Wherever you may be, please come back to us.

To Osiris.

#theus.exe #lore.exe #osiris #destiny osiris #osiris destiny #destiny spoilers #long post

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for-ships-that-never-sail · 3 years

Text

Ramblings on SamBucky and SarahBucky

1. As a queer POC in a biracial relationship, SamBucky becoming canon would be an absolute dream for me. 😍😩😭🙌🏼 I’ve never cared about a potential MCU ship this much before. HOWEVER, I do understand that the chances of this ship actually sailing are slim to none. So, I’m just happy to be here, lurking on Tumblr and AO3 for SamBucky content along with Stackie content.

2. If Marvel REALLY wanted to, it wouldn’t be hard for them to make Sam and/or Bucky queer. Sam could easily be gay and the only confirmation we would need for that is a simple comment from Sam or Sarah about an ex boyfriend etc. Bucky could so so easily be bi and all that would take is for him to say that when he tried the dating apps both men and women had so many tiger photos and he is so confused by that or something. Making these characters queer wouldn’t take a lot of hard work in terms of writing and it wouldn’t take more than several seconds of screen time.

3. I realize that it is unlikely that the MCU will offer us the kind of queer representation we hope for. Generally, queer stories in Hollywood are about coming out trauma or some other big narrative and just never something simple and happy. The best queer stories I’ve ever seen were the ones where no one was forced to talk about it - someone was just bi, and there was nothing to discuss. They are just living their life. That’s what I wish queer representation was in Hollywood on most days, but it isn’t. Not to say that our struggles should be erased, but we also just deserve some FLUFF you know? Unfortunately, I don’t expect that Marvel is working towards queer representation with any kind of real purpose that way. Sure, they intend to introduce a gay character in an upcoming movie, but the fact that it had to be announced and discussed and is some BIG DEAL is what I dislike about the portrayal of queerness in media. As it is, they are only just coming around to decent gender and racial representation. So better queer representation will unfortunately take some more time.

4. Personally speaking, even if no major queer ships became canon in the MCU, having some of the main heroes actually just BE queer in canon would be MORE than enough for me rn tbh. 🤞🏼

5. I must admit that my interest in SamBucky actually stemmed from the clear chemistry between Stackie. Anthony and Sebastian have SO MUCH vibrant joy, love and respect between them that I started to see so many possibilities for SamBucky. This means that I can also easily understand how some people don’t see any romantic undertones in SamBucky at all. I was someone that didn’t really see many romantic undertones in Stucky (though I would have been FULLY onboard of it becoming canon). What I saw there was deep friendship. So, I know that what I see in SamBucky now could just be something I’m projecting based on what I see between the actual actors. I’m not denying that there is some queer coding in SamBucky canon or Stucky canon. But sometimes I feel like those moments in most of the fan favourite ships are just fan service crumbs and nothing else. And even then, I think some of it might even be done without any real intentions to queer code. It could all just be a simple nod to the BROMANCE, if you will.

6. Marvel has no real excuses for not making Bucky bi/pan, but I see how they might actually struggle with making Sam queer. Our new Captain America being a black man is something complicated in and of itself as shown in TFATWS. Making him queer on top of that would make his acceptance by the general public as the new Cap vastly more complicated, even within the MCU universe (at least in the eyes of the people creating this universe). It can obviously be done, but I don’t see that Marvel would believe they can go there with ease. In fact, they might even think that trying to go there might switch the narrative even more from Sam’s heroics to his personal life, which really isn’t what the MCU is about. For this reason, even if Bucky becomes canon bi, I don’t think Sam will ever really be canon gay/bi/pan, making the SamBucky ship something that will never realistically sail. 🥺💔

7. Being realistic (and sad 😔) about SamBucky never actually having a chance of happening in canon brings me to SarahBucky - another beautiful chance for a biracial ship. One that can very easily happen (literally, it only took one smile and hello for this ship to take off because of the blatant heteronormativity in media - le sigh). At least if this ship sailed though, there will be SOME beautiful biracial romance representation AND it would be hella comedic when Sam and Bucky become in-laws 😂. Think of the potential there. Seriously, just give it a minute.

8. I know it’s TOTALLY unfair that there could be so much love and care between two male or two female characters and still a hetero relationship with just one vague moment has infinitely better chances of becoming canon. But that’s unfortunately where we are still, and hating on SarahBucky won’t fix that. SamBucky is incredibly unlikely to happen (though I will always keep my fingers crossed), so if SarahBucky has any chance to actually happen, we shouldn’t get angry about it and boo it. At least I’m not going to. Supporting the chance to see a new biracial ship on screen, especially one with a beautiful strong-willed dark skinned woman and a mother of two, is a good thing. And personally, I support at least one of the Wilsons to get that 106 year old dick! 😉

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hualianff · 3 years

Text

Untethered (Bonus II) 《Bonus I》

For the first time in his life, XL feels like he can speak without the pressures and expectations of being a prince weighing down on his shoulders. He watches his facial expressions in the mirror as he rambles about the various meetings he had for the day. The subtle dancing of his eyebrows, rapid blinking of his eyes, and pinched corners of his lips—all indicative of how animated he is when summarizing his duties that seemed more like work than anything else.

The fact that HC is here, brushing his hair, and listening with occasional intrigued hums make XL reinvigorated as his role as prince. Despite the demanding energy, control, and fairness the role takes, XL is incredibly grateful for the privilege and promises himself to continue to fulfill this purpose to the best of his abilities.

So far, XL believes he’s done a sufficient job, preparing to ascend to the throne. After hearing him speak, he secretly hopes HC thinks so too.

“Ah, San Lang, thank you for kindly tending to my hair. It looks wonderful,” XL says once he feels the final knots come undone by HC’s broad strokes.

“Of course it looks wonderful. It is His Highness, after all,” the pirate captain comments smoothly. XL can’t help but smile at the compliment.

HC goes to place the comb back on the vanity. He switches it out for a short ribbon that shimmers silver when hit by the moonlight.

“Allow me to do one more thing,” HC adds. He gathers all of XL’s hair to fall behind his shoulders, the strands still a bit damp. With practiced movements, HC parts the prince’s hair into three sections, then begins braiding the pieces into a thick, tight section.

XL licks his lips in anticipation. Though he’s had his hair styled a thousand times before, this is HC who currently braids his long locks, a gesture that seems a bit intimate.

Not that you mind, XL briefly thinks.

“How have the last few weeks treated San Lang?” He asks, reminding HC of his promise to talk about his days on the ocean. HC pulls the pieces of hair tighter, focused on creating a simple yet consistent and neat braided pattern for the prince.

“Troublesome. There’s a new pirate ship we have encountered several times. They said they want to challenge us for our water territories, which is a load of shit because the sea belongs to no one,” HC spits out heatedly. His tone is harsh but his touch is gentle as ever. “I honestly think the captain wants to mess with me. Make me question my reign as the ‘most feared, ruthless, and violent pirate to sail the waters.’”

“Oh. I see,” XL says hesitantly. He’s not very familiar with the inside knowledge of pirate ways and society other than what is generalized by the public. And the palace’s gossip, of course.

Suddenly, a rush of hot air tickles XL’s ear. XL locks eyes with HC through the mirror, heart stuttering at the dark, hungry look in the pirate’s eye.

“What does His Highness think?”

“Think about what?”

“My reputation. Does the real thing live up to your imagination?” HC questions with a sly smirk, quickly tying the ribbon at the end of the braid, then moving it to fall over XL’s right shoulder. XL only has a few seconds to marvel at the stunning handiwork before HC leans forward even more, urging XL to turn toward him, their faces mere centimeters apart.

The pirate captain smells like manly musk mixed in with the ocean breeze. XL nervously gulps.

“I- um,” XL starts, feeling his face heat up. “Hmm, maybe not entirely...”

HC’s eye slowly flits down XL’s face. XL remains still, mentally kicking himself for wondering what it would feel like to close the small gap and-

“Fair enough,” HC remarks, pulling away, leaving a rush of air in his wake. “I suppose I’m not the madman people say I am. After all, His Highness wouldn’t have let me into his room otherwise, no?”

Something hot burns inside XL’s gut. He had to let HC in! If the pirate were discovered by the palace guards, he’d be imprisoned indefinitely for sure! XL was simply doing an act of service for HC...nothing too outrageous like HC implied.

Nope, none at all.

“You’re blushing.“

“San Lang better take a good look around lest this is the only time I invite him into my room,” XL huffs out, resolutely facing forward and avoiding HC’s penetrating gaze.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. I was simply teasing,” HC says, though he doesn’t sound all that apologetic. “A prince like you must have many admirers to choose from. I shall not take this privilege for granted.”

“Admirers? Where on Earth did you get that from?” XL asks, appalled. He hasn’t taken interest in any of the brides his father provided, much less traveled to other kingdoms in a serious pursuit to find one to marry.

“Is there not a ball happening this coming week? For you to choose a suitable woman to become your queen?” HC inquiries nonchalantly. He tucks a rogue curl behind XL’s ear, the prince subtly leaning into the touch.

XL whips around in astonishment, braid flying to his other shoulder.

“How did you know!?”

“I have ears on land, my prince. Even when I’m out sailing the sea,” HC says. “We have also passed numerous royal ships carrying your guests for the celebration.”

XL wilts in his seat.

It’s not much of a celebration if XL hadn’t wanted to host an engagement ball in the first place. Years of his father’s insistent pushing have led to more frequent gatherings with other royalty in hopes that XL finds a fiancé.

Unlike his parents, XL wasn’t betrothed from a young age. Furthermore, he hasn’t expressed any interest in marriage even once becoming an adult.

(“Your mother and I were married at twenty. You, my son, are already twenty-two,” the king always said. “You should quickly find a princess who catches your eye. The sooner you get yourself a wife, the sooner she will start learning her duties as queen.”)

XL has successfully put off marriage for a couple of years, deferring to his rigorous training schedule and duties as prince as an excuse. Fortunately, his mother is willing to let XL take his time, as the king isn’t set to retire anytime soon. After all, XL learning his responsibilities as king is the most important task.

HC instantly notices XL’s deflated expression. He attempts to backpedal.

“I had no right to bring that up. If this is something Gege does not want to discuss, then, by all means, he may change the subject,” HC says quietly. Respectfully.

“No. It is fine. It is by no means a secret at all. The ball has been scheduled for weeks now,” XL murmurs while looking at his bare feet. He fiddles with the long braid, smoothing over the tightly wrapped strands absent-mindedly. “I’m not actively looking for a wife or anything. At least, I don’t want to...”

“Your Highness-“

“San Lang.”

HC’s mouth snaps shut. He straightens his back with his shoulders set square, standing at attention in front of the Prince of Xianle.

“Could you do something for me? A small favor, if you will.”

“Anything,” HC immediately answers.

XL subconsciously chews on his lower lip, a habit that his closest friend SQX reprimands him for doing because it tears up both the old and healing skin. Easy to overdo, not a quick fix, SQX claims.

XL rises to his feet. He holds his hand out to the pirate, palm facing upwards.

Where’s My Love – SYML

“Will you dance with me?”

“I’m afraid gege will be sorely disappointed with this one’s lack of skill,” HC says as a matter-of-fact, but he doesn’t hesitate to accept XL’s hand, his long fingers blanketing XL’s own.

The prince’s heart skips a beat as the pirate pulls him close until their chests almost touch. XL feels small; HC’s heeled boots to XL’s bare feet exaggerate their height difference, XL only coming up to HC’s chest.

XL feels small but strangely, he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“San Lang needs only to follow my lead,” XL says, looking up with a smile. He properly intertwines their left and right hands, then places HC’s other hand on his shoulder. Finally, XL goes to hold the pirate’s waist, the thin fabric giving way to the hard muscle underneath.

“Gege must have danced with a lot of pretty women before,” HC muses, moving his feet as XL slowly guides him into a waltz. XL hopes it isn’t just him imagining a slow, romantic piece to harmonize their movements.

“Is San Lang jealous?” XL asks without thinking.

Goodness, did those words seriously just come out of his mouth? Other than his eyes widening in slight horror, XL schools his face into a calm expression, not wanting to seem conceited or even desperate.

HC peers down with a lazy smirk, almost crowding into the prince as they turn to dance in a circle. Despite XL’s effort to appear unfazed by the prospect of HC envying those who’ve had the opportunity to dance with the Prince of Xianle, the pirate still catches the hopeful flicker of XL’s eyelashes.

“A little bit. Though in a way, I’ve had my fair share of dances with Gege myself,” HC states proudly, referring back to their previous sparring sessions. The break in focus has HC stumbling over his feet, prompting XL to squeeze his waist as a reprimand to concentrate.

“Ah, yes. San Lang’s skill is undeniable in that aspect,” XL says, laughing. “He’s also the first and only man I’ve danced ever with.”

“What an honor,” HC purrs out, and then he lowers XL into an abrupt dip, holding the prince by his hip and upper back.

XL’s breath hitches, wondering how they seamlessly switched positions. HC tenderly stares down at the prince, a twinkle dimly reflecting in his left eye.

“San Lang...” XL whispers, clutching onto HC’s shoulders. His long braid feels heavy like rope where it hangs down, nearly touching the ground.

“Your Highness.”

Their faces are millimeters apart, skimming each other’s noses. They’ve never been this close before, especially not in the absence of any sort of weapon. No one besides the king and queen, palace servants, and bodyguards are even allowed to touch the prince.

Now here he is, in the arms of the infamous Crimson Rain, on the verge of letting himself want.

Tentatively, XL licks his lips before asking, “Why do you always come back?”

“Gege knows this answer too,” HC solemnly says.

XL tilts his chin up, eyelids starting to lower.

“I come back for you, my dear Prince.”

As HC leans down—still supporting XL’s weight—XL meets him halfway for their first proper kiss, alone together in the prince’s room where the pale moonlight spills through the balcony doors. It’s a light and airy peck, one that ends way too soon for XL’s liking.

When they pull apart, HC stands XL back up. The pirate notices XL’s robe has slid off one shoulder. He goes to pull it back up but XL quickly grasps his jaw for another kiss instead.

They part again.

“Just...one more-“ XL breathes out, adrenaline coursing through his veins. HC’s lips are warm and firm, easily pliable as they press deliciously against XL’s own. “...one more.”

HC gladly obliges.

Their kisses gradually pick up in pace, HC’s hands respectively exploring the span of XL’s back, his hips, and sides. XL eagerly pulls HC over to the edge of his bed, spinning them around so he can climb onto the pirate’s lap.

HC groans low in his throat, comfortably looping his arms around XL’s waist.

At this point, all of XL’s reservations have been cast aside and he’s going to act on the desires concerning a certain pirate that have been taunting him for months now, damn it.

XL surges forward with a force that knocks HC back against the soft mattress.

“Your Highness,” HC growls between kisses, still trying to cover up XL’s shoulder, and now his chest where the robe is loose enough to reveal noticeable cleavage. XL shifts a bit to align their hips, unintentionally rubbing against HC. “Shit-“

“Hua Cheng-“ XL hums, belatedly realizing his slip up. HC nips at his lip for his mistake.

“San L-lang,” XL mewls like the starved for affection prince that he is. HC’s tongue darts out to swipe across XL’s upper lip. Then, his lower lip.

XL naturally opens up for him, gasping as HC’s hot tongue licks inside his mouth with a dominance that consumes XL. The more XL lets his lust cloud his movement, the faster he feels himself harden.

When XL’s hands brush along HC’s hair, they accidentally graze onto his eyepatch. HC grunts in surprise, which has XL springing back as the situation of the last five minutes dawns upon him.

He sits up on HC’s thighs, placing his palms on the pirate’s chest. Underneath him, HC is a gorgeous vision–thick, wavy hair splayed out on XL’s pillow, lips swollen and spit-slicked.

“Oh my- oh my lord,” XL chokes out, completely breathless. “Was- was that t-too much?”

“Not at all, Your Highness,” HC replies with a rogue-ish smirk. “Come here.”

HC embraces his prince with long arms, squeezing tightly and pressing a series of kisses to the top of XL’s head. XL hesitantly rests his cheek on HC’s sternum, aware of how close their bodies are pressed together.

“Who knew Gege could kiss like that?”

“Like what?” XL questions petulantly.

“Like a shameless minx,” the pirate captain answers, chuckling when XL whines at the implication.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” XL shyly admits.

“Me too,” HC murmurs. XL lifts his head, crosses his arms on HC’s chest, then sets his chin on them. “Since the moment I saw you sitting alone at the pub.”

“You wanted to kiss the crown prince at first sight?” XL asks, pretending to be scandalized. HC kisses the tip of XL’s nose. XL scrunches it up in response.

“Hmm, my prince now.”

“Well, your prince would very much like it if San Lang stays the night.”

“I must be back at the harbor before dawn,” HC says, stroking XL’s hair. “However, I can most certainly afford to accompany Gege while he sleeps.”

XL happily snuggles close to HC, not worrying quite so much about the ball now that he has something going on with HC. To his astonishment, the pirate seems to return his affections quite enthusiastically. As a prince with the duty to serve his people, XL reckons he deserves this moment of happiness.

After another hour of blissful exchanging kisses and aimless conversation, XL feels himself begin to drift. He hears a whispered promise from HC who protectively curls around him.

“I will never bring you harm, Your Highness. Your heart is safe with me.”

XL falls asleep into a dreamless slumber.

***

Present...

As if it happens in slow motion, XL swings the sword with all the power he possesses. HC’s arms stretch open in vulnerability, lips forming into a small, understanding smile.

“Gege.”

Something inside XL shatters. The familiar term of endearment is for XL’s ears only. His heart pounds against his rib cage with the ferocity of an imprisoned soul, screaming at XL to ask not what he would wish for in death, but what is he willing to live for?

The answer is right in front of him.

“I’m back.”

Three things happen at once.

A deafening BOOM fires at the royal ship from the opposite direction, pitch-black flags with the symbolic skeleton of a fish piercing through the chilly air.

Simultaneously, a blinding flash of lightning strikes across the sky, signaling an even more intense downpour of rain that obscures everyone’s vision. Surprised screams echo somewhat mutely among the roaring winds.

Lastly, XL swings his sword so it barely skims the open blouse HC wears and keeps rotating until it crosses behind him, where he lets it go flying back to the royal ship.

At that moment, XL leaps forward into HC’s embrace, where those long arms encircle his waist, and both men are sent tumbling down into the crashing waves of the raging ocean.

《VI》

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #hualian au #xie lian #hua cheng #pirate & prince au #cerdrabbles #TBC #tian guan ci fu #the bonus had to be split into two #I really just wanted to write Hualian’s first kiss here hehe #we back in the present babyyy

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fruitless-nonsense · 3 years

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Okay, so I didn’t actually think anyone would care what I had to say. I just saw a post that riled me up and I wrote that to let off some steam. That being said, to everyone who liked my post or just read it thank you from the bottom of my heart. Seriously it means so much to me that there are people who notice what I have to say. That being said, I want to do more of these cause I have a lot of opinions that aren’t widespread, and I’d like to start with a post gushing about a certain character that receives too much hate. However, seeing as this isn’t a rant out of agitation this might take a bit longer to get out. With that long introduction out of the way... Cami O’Connell!

As I said, Cami is my favorite female character in the whole of the tvdverse (Bonnie is a close second). The reason why I want to start with her instead of Bonnie or my favorite character (Marcel) is because while both were royally screwed with by the writers, there are plenty of fans online who sing their praises (as they deserve). However, when it comes to Cami the consensus online is either hatred or indifference by a vast majority of the fans (that being said there are still a good amount of people who do love her I’m not saying there aren’t, but they are in the minority). This is something I never quite understood, but I’m gonna try my best educated guess on it.

I suppose before I go any further, I have a confession to make. The way I watched both tvd and to was not a straight line. Several years ago, I decided to finally watch tvd and started with the first two season (which I really liked), then a youtuber dropped a video analyzing the pilot for to and the premise hooked me immediately so I started the first season and kept watching until finishing the third, then I decided to go back and watch tvd seasons three and four, then got bored so I switched back to finish to, and finally after a few months declared I wanted to finish what I started and slogged through the second half of tvd. Why is this relevant? Well I just wanted to inform y’all as this might’ve led to my different perspectives on many things in both shows, and it hopefully can somewhat explain my reasoning

Going back to Cami, why is she my favorite female? A multitude of reasons. Firstly, I love how different she is from other female characters we’ve seen. Characters like Elena, Bonnie, and Caroline are fun in their own right, with bubbly personalities and childish innocence. This makes sense because they’re teenagers! Even Elena’s angst comes off more like young naivety than a wayward soul. I’m not knocking this characterization, it makes sense that a show aimed at teenagers would have teenage girls as it’s main cast. Where am I going with this? Cami might be the most mature character we’ve seen in this universe that actually has a pretty big part in the cast. What I mean is that shows like this paint maturity on women as being motherly or a stick in the mud, but Cami is neither. She’s still fun and loose, but with an aura of restraint and intelligence that needs to be accumulated over time. She’s not even that old! My guesstimation puts her at 23 cause we know she’s graduated college with a degree in psychology and was already working at Rousseau’s in the pilot (you mean to tell me you don’t just get your dream job right out of college, you have to work some dead end jobs first? YA lied to me!). I don’t know how quite to describe it beyond that, Cami just feels like a real person to me, and that makes me invested in her life even more.

Secondly, is her personality beyond her intelligence. I love how empathetic and kind she is! In the span of three seasons, she had helped almost everyone in the show while never sticking her feet into the main drama. That’s another thing, she knows when something’s over her head and will step out when she can, when something is pushing her, she fights back. I love that despite how kind hearted she is, she’s not a pushover. If there’s something she doesn’t like, she will attest. She may be nice, but get on her bad side and her sass will cut you like a knife. Considering she’s only a human against these witches, vampires, and originals you would call this unrealistic, but it works because unlike most people on the show, she’s smart. I know I just said beyond her intelligence, but I just want to gush about how fun it is watching Cami get out of trouble on her own by using nothing but her brain (I just think it’s neat). Characters this complex are not usually reserved for women on the cw, which leads into my final reason.

I love how much agency Cami has throughout her run on the show! Like, her story isn’t stapled to Klaus, she does so much without him even being there. In tvd, I can’t think of a single storyline Elena had that wasn’t tied to one or both of the Salvatore brothers, Bonnie is constantly being abused by the writers, Caroline is forcibly impregnated, Hayley starts off with her own goals before being tied to Jackson and later Elijah, Davina also starts off with her own ambitions before also being shackled to her love interest to resurrecting Kol being her only storyline in season three. I’m sure there are more, but these are just ones off the top of my head. While this makes me wish she had her own storyline, I acknowledge she is a supporting character (which begs the question of why none of the women in the main cast get this luxury but I digress).

This has been very long, and we’re just getting to complaints. Unlike complaints about the ship, I have yet to find an argument about why Cami sucks that isn’t factually incorrect, so if you have one please share. The first complaint I hear is that Cami is a copy of Caroline (I’ll give y’all that have seen the show a second to stop laughing at the statement). I’ve already explained why Caroline and Cami are two very different characters (hint: one is bubble and energetic and one is calm and mature), I know they’re both blonde, nice, empathetic, and have names that start with c, but try paying attention to what you’re watching then maybe you’ll have a better grasp on it. Secondly is that Cami’s only purpose is being Klaus’ love interest. Like I stated, there’s a lot Cami does where Klaus isn’t even present, unless you’re saying everyone Cami has had a story with was a love interest (So Davina, Josh, Hayley, Elijah, Marcel cerca season two onward, Vincent, Lucien, that detective guy, and her uncle Kieran), in that case I think y’all are onto something with Cami being a Mary Sue cause she getting all the action (note the sarcasm)! That’s another thing, people say Cami’s a Mary Sue cause almost everyone loves her and she has basically no flaws. First of all, I don’t believe Mary Sue to be a character problem but a story problem, and above all an excuse to neuter powerful women lest they make fragile men uncomfortable. Second of all, we see Cami form these relationships in real time through her actions not by her existence. Third of all (not that she needs them to be a good character since other favs don’t), Cami has her stubbornness that eventually got her killed and the fact that strength wise she is the weakest character in the show by her being human.

Are you catching on to some of what I’m saying? Most of these complaints aren’t even true, yet it’s all we hear. My first inclination was to blame this hatred on klaroline shippers who were bitter that their ship could no longer sail, but then I saw posts of people who claimed not to ship them and still hated Cami because she was “just a love interest.” Which leads into the other problem with haters: the hypocrisy. Reasons people hate Cami are elements in other characters that these same people love. Never mind the fact that some of these complaints don’t even apply to her like the love interest thing. To use something that isn’t a lie, people will hate on Cami for sleeping with Marcel in season one when Marcel is Klaus’ son, meanwhile y’all seem to forget Elena not only dated but cheated on Stefan with Damon in the finale of tvd season two (spoiler: she kissed him on his deathbed while her boyfriend and his brother was searching for a way to save him, which doesn’t even go into all their kisses in season three) and furthermore shipping Marcel with Rebekah who would be his aunt (I know some people who ship them acknowledge this but damn). I also know these people jumped at the chance to attack Cami for stealing the white oak stake in season three and ignoring what she was going through meanwhile will wave past everything Elena, Damon, and Caroline did when they had their humanity turned off as “they were going through a lot” (disclaimer: no hate to either of those girls, they were understandably in much pain, just wanna expose the hypocrisy). This all made me reevaluate the reasoning as more than just shippers being bitter, this seemed much more malicious to just be that.

After a lot of thought, my only conclusion I can come to is sexism. Cami is a very different female character than what we’re used to, she’s strong willed, opinionated, smarter than the men, and more mature. I guess fans weren’t ready for a character like that so assumed it was bad or just wrote her off as too different, but that’s giving the benefit of the doubt. To be honest, I still don’t know why she was so hated and continues to be ignored by fans, but maybe it’s time we start asking that question. It’s time we appreciate characters like this so maybe we can have more of them on the cw. It’s time to give Camille O’Connell and Leah Pipes the respect they deserve!

(P.S - Can someone far more talented than me please put out some Cami x reader content? I’m starved of my girl and Leah is too pretty for my gay brain to function!)

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olivinesea · 3 years

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In the Golden Dark

a/n: Having never done any ship writing before I’m just going to jump feet first into the deep end with a little Hotchreid for you today. It’s nice. No warnings except maybe some angst because we are who we are. Probably the softest thing you will see from me so enjoy the moment. Completely unnecessary disclaimer that I would find this relationship wildly inappropriate in real life but thank god we’re out here in the lawless fiction of the internet. And you’re getting full on song lyrics bc Hotchreid is nothing if not decadent af. There’s more but I’m impatient so here’s the first bit. ~ 2.7k

what the hell am I doing here in the golden dark? feeling like I’m someone else who looks the part I built up barricades to block my heart cause I don’t wanna fear you

He leaned back in his chair, reaching his arms up and clasping his hands behind his head, arching his back slightly. With his eyes closed it could be any time of day. He inhaled deeply and pretended for a moment that he was nowhere. He even gave himself a few extra seconds, indulging in the quiet that was the office at night. If only he could feel so peaceful in the right moments—before sleeping perhaps. When he opened his eyes all he could see was the reflection of his office light in the black windows. There hadn’t been daylight for hours. He’d switched off the overhead lights in favor of the small desk lamp that pooled the light only in the area of immediate relevance. Everything beyond its reach faded in and out of existence as his focus fell deeply into the forms in front of him.

He pressed his elbows back as far as they would go, pulling up slightly on the base of his skull, stretching out a day’s worth of stress, countless hours spent bent over report after report. He never could have imagined that saving people would require so much paperwork. Reducing the chaos of the lived experience, the searches and the takedowns, the intricate patterns of dozens of personalities layering choices upon one another; it turned out to be quite difficult to do. It took him hours to wrap up cases, even with everyone doing most of their own reports. Which, through no fault of their own, wasn’t always the case. He usually ended up siphoning off a fair number of those reports in addition to his own.

He didn’t mind, he needed to go over everything, needed to make sure that any possible negative feedback that came back would fall to him and he would be prepared if it did. His team were his responsibility, he would be neglecting his duties if he didn’t ensure that things were handled properly. None of them needed the headache of administrative errors. He was good with details, good with forms, good with protocol. He would happily be the filter that saved them all the trouble of little errors even if it hadn’t been part of his job.

But that didn’t change the fact that it was eleven o’clock on a Wednesday and everyone else had gone home hours ago. Only the late night janitorial staff wandered in and out occasionally, nodding at him in silent greeting as they reset the offices to give the illusion of an endlessly renewable supply of fresh starts. People that didn’t stay late never gave this transformation a second thought. They left the office with full trashcans and small debris scattered on the old carpets, only to return the next morning to find a place untouched by human presence, metal fixtures shining and glass doors free of oily fingerprints. That was just how the world worked for them, generous with new beginnings. People who lingered knew better, that effort was put into the effect. Beginnings were never easy, never flowed so inevitably as the set and rise of the sun.

Hotch had been working late for many years, long before he was even in the BAU. He had learned in law school how to brew the coffee strong enough to stay up all night if need be. How the indoor lighting changed without the support of daylight, tinting the world a thin sickly green color without the natural light to round out the fluorescence. He only got worse about it once he joined the Bureau, the stress of the job causing old habits and old secrets to float to the surface. He compensated by working the hardest, doing the most, never allowing anyone to see him need things that other people needed. He could handle this job, this was all he ever wanted after all. To save the world. Or maybe, more modestly, to save the world of a few.

Now, with Haley gone, Jack with her, somewhere well out of his disastrous reach, there was no reason at all not to fully give in. No reason not to let his insomnia at least be productive. To let the latent self destruction that fueled his actions at least have a positive impact on the people he cared about. He could do that at least.

He rubbed his face with his hands, he was getting loopy. There was no reason to be letting his mind wander so far, there were still reports he could get through. Perhaps, as unlikely as the idea felt, he could even get ahead. He looked back down at the paperwork, letting his feet settle flat on the floor. The letters swam in front of him and he sighed, rolling his pen beneath his thumb, considering. He could probably make it another hour. He could get another pot of coffee into himself. He cast about for his mug, finding it empty on the shelf behind him. He sometimes kept it there to prevent his reports from acquiring telltale dark rings. Rolling back from the desk, he hooked the handle with two fingers and headed out to the kitchenette.

Wrapped up in making plans for what he could finish tonight and what could be left for the morning he was startled to find a light still on in the bullpen. He was certain everyone had gone home long ago. They’d each passed by his office, offering him an out as they made their ways home—perhaps their exit could be the motivation he needed to break out of his office, to head towards his own home. What they didn’t realize was that home was not better for him. Work was far better, far safer, with tasks to complete, a purpose. If he was smart he would stay at work forever.

So he waved to them as they checked out, giving them small smiles that, though imperceptible to strangers, they recognized as both apologies and well-wishes. He knew they worried, that they didn’t like to see him tied to his desk late into the night. They thought it was one of his many methods for making himself suffer but he didn’t have the heart to tell them that this was him making a good decision, this was him trying his very best. In his experience, nothing good happened at home.

He thought he remembered everyone leaving, each goodbye. But every day was the same and they all bled together so he must have missed one because he cannot deny the light down below. As he walked down the stairs, confused by the discovery that he was not as alone as he had been imagining, his tired vision focused better. He could make out dark blond curls and a darker sweater hunched over the desk in the middle of the room.

“Reid?” The name came out as a croak, he hadn’t spoken in hours and probably hadn’t had any water in that time period either. He cleared his throat and said it again, louder and closer to the other man than before. Reid’s head snapped up, expression as guilty as a child caught out of bed.

“S-sorry,” he stuttered, eyes wide.

Hotch frowned, not because he was upset but because he was still a little disoriented and his muscles fell back into the most familiar actions.

“I—“ Reid ducked his head and started pushing papers together on his desk, shoving them haphazardly into a file folder. “I was just…” he trailed off, not really having intended on explaining himself. He was simply also startled and reverting to the familiar.

Reid explained compulsively, able to handle the world when parsed down to facts and numbers. He didn’t have a fact for why he had stayed so late, only a feeling and that he didn’t know how to explain. Nights had been particularly lonely recently so he had allowed himself to stay later and later, getting lost in his thoughts at his work desk. Even without people around there was a sense of occupancy, their faint impressions lingering in the air. Plus there was always Hotch up in his office. He didn’t actively think about him or what he was doing but he liked knowing the man was nearby. Hotch’s solid presence always made him feel more secure, less concerned with whatever might jump out at him from the shadows overlapping the world and his mind.

He couldn’t tell Hotch that, was far too embarrassed to admit that sometimes, even with all the lights on, it was too dark in his apartment. No matter the illumination, he couldn’t quite dispel the unease of the night when he was alone. It wasn’t always like this, sometimes he had enough brightness to spare. Recently, however, things had been hard. So much had been going on, he couldn’t quite pinpoint why but he knew he felt uneasy. Too much had changed, there was too much risk that the floor could still fall out beneath him at any moment. And it hadn’t been so long since he’d escaped the consequences of his kidnapping, his addiction, that he trusted himself to be able to manage too much more uncertainty. Backsliding was always a risk and right now the world tilted at a frightening grade. So he let himself stay late in the safety of familiarity, sometimes working but more often not, idly rereading the books he had brought in and forgotten around the office. Tonight he had actually started to doze off, which contributed to his shock upon being discovered.

Hotch continued to frown at him, watching as the thoughts raced across Spencer’s face. He noticed how deep the shadows were beneath his eyes, the way darkness pooled in the space below his cheekbones, as if they were concave impressions filled by seawater. He knew Spencer didn’t eat enough, was all too familiar with the ways too much coffee and not enough calories pinched the skin and exposed the fine lines of capillaries beneath the surface.

“Sorry,” Spencer repeated.

He looked genuinely ashamed and it made Hotch a little sad. Couldn’t Spencer see that he was just as guilty of whatever it was he thought he was doing wrong by being here? He made a conscious effort to soften his expression, to show the warmth he felt for the younger man. After having spent his entire life masking his emotions, protecting himself one of the only ways he could, it wasn’t always easy to show his affection. Especially not at this time of night, when all he could do was cling to his walls and hope to find himself still on solid ground when the sun rose. Spencer wasn’t looking at him, too caught up in his own maze.

“Let’s go get something to eat,” Hotch said, trying a different tactic. He was smart, he knew not to make it a demand or a comment on Spencer’s health. It was only an invitation, firm enough for Spencer to know he meant it, that it was not just a pleasantry or an obligation he’d rather avoid. A hand extended, an offer of easy company to pass through a little more of this unwanted time. Spencer looked up from where his fingers were worrying at the corner of the file in front of him and smiled shyly. Hotch smiled back, a real smile that scrunched up his dark shining eyes.

“Give me five minutes to close up,” he said and turned back toward his office. As he packed his briefcase, his heart felt like it had been wrapped in a soft blanket. He didn’t bother questioning it—who didn’t like finding someone to commiserate with when they’d only expected more of the lonely dark?

Their late night meals became a regular occurrence. Not every night but once, maybe twice a week, they found themselves the last ones in the office. They fell into a rhythm, each learning to read more from the other’s subtle cues. They almost always went to the same place, a 24-hour diner near the office with deceptively strong coffee and a seemingly endless variety of pancakes. Hotch rarely ordered food, though he encouraged Reid to get anything he wanted. He accepted bites of whatever the younger man ordered, happy enough to reciprocate the excitement over strawberry rhubarb or cinnamon blueberry pancakes.

They talked about inconsequential things, mostly Hotch listening as Reid spun out information on whatever topic was on his mind that day. Reid, for his part, made mental note of the things Hotch responded to and had opinions on. Spencer sought out more information in that vein to bring up. He loved to talk, sure, but what he loved more was to discuss. During the day there was rarely time to let his thoughts wander so freely. It was a dream to have someone there, following along and challenging him with questions, building up new conclusions.

On the nights that followed difficult days, when they were both too stubborn to order anything of substance, they drank their coffees and avoided looking at each other too directly. Those nights they were both tied up in their own thoughts, islands separated by more than just distance, but there was something undeniably pulling them together. It was probably just the natural consequence of having opposite dominant sides but they mirrored each other perfectly across the table. Once, they both happened to reach for their mugs at the same time and the backs of their hands brushed against each other. They each noticed but responded differently. Hotch repressed any reaction, pretending the quick touch of bony knuckles and cool skin hadn’t registered. Maybe it hadn’t. Reid, on the other hand, jumped as if shocked, sloshing the hot coffee into a puddle on the table. This only flustered him more and he yelped at the sting of the liquid and the sting of embarrassment. It wasn’t like they’d never touched before. But here, in this nowhere time they’d constructed, it felt different. In his mind that brief touch became nails dragging across his skin, impossible to ignore. But he pretended the mug was too hot and Hotch didn’t argue, quick to assist with napkins and sounds of agreement to accompany Spencer’s half-coherent excuses.

When their meals were done, mostly cleaned plates of syrup and crumbs stacked to one side, they hesitated before standing up. Hotch always offered to give Reid a ride home, Reid always declined, insisting he could get there himself. This led to Hotch giving him a doubtful look and insisting that it was no trouble. Reid, secretly wanting a ride the whole time, struggled to argue for his self-sufficiency a little longer before giving in. It became a silly thing, both of them knowing exactly how the argument ended but they held onto it for some reason. It was a part of their ritual now, an important piece of the night. It kept this, whatever this was, contained, strictly occasional, random even. Not something they planned for, not something they looked forward to.

Hotch waited for Spencer to get in the door of his building before driving away. He knew it wasn’t necessary, Spencer was a grown man and a trained FBI agent with a weapon. Still, it made him feel better to see him safely inside. Sometimes he thought he would feel even better if he could walk Spencer all the way to his front door. But he knew that would be asking too much. As it was, the nights when they shared this extra hour or two together, extended further by the drive home, had been giving him more than he could have imagined. He wouldn’t dare impose himself further. The brittle excuse of safety would crumble if he were to start following the other man inside. He was not ready to find out what that would mean. He smiled unconsciously as he drove to his apartment. For now, it was enough that he had found companionship on these late nights when he would otherwise be slowly, meticulously, working his way into the grave.

~Part 2~

#Criminal Minds #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #hotchreid #beginnings

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writebecauseyoucannotbreathe · 3 years

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Ultimate Ship Meme: Azulaang

Rate the Ship -

How long will they last? - Until I say so. I can see them being together after death as spirits.

How quickly did/will they fall in love? - Ooooh boy. Azula struggles to understand friendship. I think she'd fall in love fast and hard but take the longest to realize. Aang wouldn't let himself get attached at first because Azula is unapologetic and one of the things I like about Azulaang is how it would push Aang to deals with the nitty gritty gray, not in a The Fire Nation was right all along way but in how even Kyoshi and Roku's conflict resolution let to disagreements. I think it would take Aang longer to fall in but once they reach a semblance of common ground he'd be well aware he's falling in love and would enjoy the ride.

How was their first kiss? - Let's see my fanfics. In Blue it was awkward. In Weightless it was sweet. In Smut it was horny and hate filled. In canon I think their first kiss would be very passionate and then they snap back to reality and Aang would evade while Azula denies so they wouldn't talk about it but they'd for sure be thinking about the kiss.

Wedding:

Who proposed? - Technically Azula. As soon as Aang hears about a Fire Nation wedding, either his friends or he learns about Ozai and Ursa's wedding, his mind would be set on a wedding. He wouldn't say anything but he'd squirrel away relevant wedding information like he'd hear a song and go "I want that instrument to play at my wedding." But Azula would have her life planned out by other people and there'd be a set date where Ozai now Zuko are supposed to comb through suitor requests (it was probably Ursa's role. If she's there she'd talk to Azula directly instead of Lo and Li. I don't think Lo and Li are high enough rank to determine the suitor but I think it would be customary/expected for their input to be asked). Azula would tell Aang something along the lines of "I should be wed." and he'd agree and then Azula will spend an abnormally long time wondering if he married her because he liked her or because it's his duty until she asks him while he's discussing potential baby room colors pre wedding.

Who is the best man/men? - Sokka and Toph. Azula was going to pick Momo but he made a better flower girl. Yes she did this to annoy Zuko (and because Toph didnt want to wear the bridesmaid outfit) it's okay though Fire Lord Zuko was the guest of honor.

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? - Katara, Suki, Mai, Ty Lee. Mai pretends she hates the outfit but she's secretly pleased.

Who did the most planning? - Aang did the most thinking but Azula did the most planning.

Who stressed the most? - Externally Aang. Internally Azula.

How fancy was the ceremony? -

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

100% Azula's fault. Aang has no clue what Fire Nation weddings are supposed to be like.

Aang: Wow I can't believe all weddings in your Nation are this big.

Azula: They're not. It's because I'm Royalty and you're the Avatar.

Though I hc that Aang wants to get married in all the different Nations and Azula secretly wants to experience a small wedding so they get married 3 more times with one of them being a very small Air Nation wedding.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? - Hmmm I'm not sure. On one hand, Ozai redemption. On the other hand, Ozai death.

Sex:

Who is on top? - Aang. Azula thinks she wants to be on top but she'd rather be pampered and Aang is more comfortable communicating and attending to needs. Aang has no strong preference either way and they do switch but this is their usual dynamic.

Who is the one to instigate things? - Azula but she denies it.

How healthy is their sex life? -

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

I think it's up to the reader's preference but I can see them being very private (Azula) and naturally talented (Aang) to the point where they assume every couple has sex daily. Hc that Aang and Suki talk about sex freely (ex: When I do __ should I __ or do girls prefer ___? I can never tell with Azula. Why do guys do ___ after ____ ? I've tried asking Sokka but he doesn't give me a straight answer.) Much to the fear of Sokka and Azula.

How kinky are they? -

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

Again up to the reader. They both like learning new things and are prodigies so I think they'd end up reading about things to try in bed (Azula) and would try things out to see what they like (Aang) until they learn what they and each other generally like/dislike.

How long do they normally last? -

Does the Avatar State remove your refractory period? >;3c

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? - No. Aang likes overstimulating.

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.

Neither can dirty talk. Azula is rougher. Aang likes to take it slow. She sets the pace in the beginning but he decides when it ends.

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do? -

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Azula refuses to cuddle in public but in return they cuddle all night.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? - hc them having twin boys at first with one firebender and one airbender because poetry. But Azula really wants a girl so they have a third child she is an airbender with Aang's charm and knack for getting in trouble and Azula's ruthlessness. Amon kidnaps her and instead of easily escaping (Aang's genes) she instead viciously mocks him the way only a preteen can (Azula's genes.) It's traumatic enough for Amon even before the parents show up. Then Aang wants another one and Azula wants another firebender so they do the do and surprise triplets! (maybe it has to do with ejaculatimg in the Avatar State lol) So 6 in total and lets say its 3 boys 3 girls with 3 airbenders 3 firebenders.

How many children will they adopt? - None. Azula is wary of motherhood and I know people like to hc Aang as adopting and while I can see him acting as a father figure to several kids I think he'd greatly prefer biological kids especially airbenders. It's a flaw that was barely touched upon and def not handled well in Legend of Korra.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? - Servants or Aang. After a kid or two Azula would be comfortable enough to change the diapers but it would still be mostly Aang.

Who is the stricter parent? - Depends on the kid. Aang is more lenient with airbenders and Azula with firebenders or girls. I can see Azula being strict with training & studies but not with sharing whereas Aang would have less rules but they'd be more heavily enforced (ex: no airgliding without supervision until you've mastered the safety course)

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? - Azula. She's pretty lenient with the term dangerous esp. when it comes to firebending as long as basic safety measures are applied (ex: you can pracrice lightning as long as it's not pointed towards yourself aka dont be Zuzu) but Aang is of the mindset "How are you gonna learn airbending without dangerous stunts?" And after the first few incidents she started stepping in.

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? - Azula but Aang cooks them.

Who is the more loved parent? - Appa

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? Azula. When Aang attends the teachers shower him and his kids with compliments ("You're doing so well teaching your kids the values of the Air Nomads. It must be so hard being The Last Airbender"). They do the same with Azula but unlike Aang she sees through it and manages to get an accurate assessment of how their kids are doing.

Who cried the most at graduation? - Aang was more happy than sad. Azula cried before and after.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? - Aang. He is a notorious lawbreaker. Azula would bail the kids and she could do so quicker than Aang in a few cases because of her connections but she'd be mad so their kids would rather call Aang or break themselves out.

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? - Tied. Aang at first but then Azula wants to learn and after Aang teaches her since she has less experience she finds more enjoyment in cooking.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? -

Technically Aang since he's a vegetarian. Azula hasn't tried as many foods and she's used to not making a fuss at the family dinner table to the point of which Aang notices.

Who does the grocery shopping? - Both. Aang has a better eye for vegetables/fruits and Azula is better with prices (it's not about the cost it's about the value).

How often do they bake desserts? - Aang bakes them when he can/weekly. They're fruit based so if Azula doesn't want dessert he gives it to Momo or flings it at a target.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? - Gee I wonder. Aang eats salad Azula eats meat.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? - Aang but Azula tends to figures it out. Azula is more likely to plan a dinner but she wouldn't make it a surprise.

Who is more likely to suggest going out? - Aang but Azula is a close second. It would be a tie if it wasn't for the bathhouse.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking? - Accidentally? Aang. On purpose? Azula.

Who cleans the room? - Servants or Aang.

Chores:

Who is really against chores? - Azula hates cleaning up but she's neater.

Who cleans up after the pets? - Aang.

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? - Aang.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? - Azula.

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? - Aang.

Who takes the longer showers/baths? - Azula. In the Fire Nation Palace Aang has taken to chatting with Azula in the Royal Spa while he feeds her (and mostly himself) cherries.

Misc:

Who takes the dog Appa out for a walk? - Aang

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? - Never. Once they like the room they like the room. If its an event they'll go to a different location for it or leave the Air Temple as is.

What are their goals for the relationship? -

To stay together.

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? -

Aang slept for a hundred years so I'll give it to him.

Who plays the most pranks? - Tie. They've both pulled elaborate pranks as kids.

#azulaang #atla #avatar the last airbender #aang x azula #ship meme #long

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jiangwanyinscatmom · 3 years

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[1/?] Sorry for venting. I just saw some bad takes that gave me a lot of feelings. Personally, JC stresses me out every time he comes on screen, but I don't mind it when JC fans say fan-typical things like how they like JC because he wears purple, or is grumpy, or they think he's hot, or that they ship x*ch*ng because the cql actors have nice jawlines. They're harmless, fun takes, and while I don't agree with some of them, I see where they're coming from

Hello there anon, vent away as that is what my blog is open for as I love/hate on Jiang Cheng as he is in the plot, as well as all of my beef with what has been done to him for the EN side of the fanbase! I am more than fine listening and engaging with the unsavory "unpopular" discussions of his canon behavior and this goes for anyone of course that needs an open play area. I'll try to engage with what you have sent point by point as succinctly as I can.

[2/?] (some of these are obviously crack, and I am a fan of a few problematic faves). But then there are stans that just have to put other characters down to make JC look good. Like, I think some fans take their freedom of interpretation for granted because most of these takes aren't even labeled 'headcanon,' 'ooc,' or 'crack' anymore. Stans feel that their interpretations are valid, and while they are, valid =/= canon, and they're treating these takes as canon, which becomes popular fanon.

I enjoy Jiang Cheng for what he is, however as I had said it took me another reread to get to my stance of him being the negative mirror to Lan Wangji's positive and my comfort with that for the story once I realized what purpose he served. He is only insofar tragic in regards to his circumstances, but it does not absolve him for what he is at his core (no pun, but I can make a very nice metaphor that even with a piece of Wei Wuxian in him he is still forever unable and unwilling to stand by him equally all while stagnating where as Lan Wangji is able to flourish, grow and mature with nothing of import left from Wei Wuxian in a technical sense). As for ships, I am a little dirty Xicheng whore for fun and can say there is a sense of entertainment for me making it work with two people where one is wildly ignorant and the other wildly rabid. But that is outside of what is established as canon in the work and I always try to keep the two strictly separate due to the skew fanon perpetuates.

3/?] And now, it's not clear what part of the fanon references canon JC or the canon events of mdzs. JC is an asshole; I don't like him as a person, but I do think that he's a complex character motivated by many issues (sup, YeeZY), which makes him fascinating to explore. Unfortunately, erasing his culpability also removes his agency. JC should be allowed to be an asshole character who makes his own decisions even if they're the wrong ones. He has made his own tragedy by constantly casting Wei Wuxian as the villain of his life.

Now thanks to you I will be using YeeZY to forever and now to acknowledge Madam Yu (this is your fault for the new tag). From a standing from storytelling I agree that he is complex in the Jianghu for MDZS. Where in the usual political intrigue of Wuxia, he would be the mustache twirling villain that is outright unforgivable in narration, it is by favor of Wei Wuxian's narration that has an early steeping of empathy for him. And he is not meant to be seen as ultimately sympathetic, the work builds up his hate against Wei Wuxian who tries to rationalize it all several times until he is finally unable to. Jiang Cheng is the antithesis to Lan Wangji and the false bait to get attached to in Wei Wuxian's first life. I will make the note their meeting in Yiling is lukewarm between both as they exchange nothing really in terms of conversation and all pleasantries are left in terms of Jiang Yanli for Wei Wuxian. By this point Wei Wuxian has already switched his yearnings of platonically wanting a part of Jiang Cheng's life, to subconscious romantic inclinations about Lan Wangji and the perceived loss of being in the other's life.

The very point of Jiang Cheng as the deconstruction, is that he has no passion in life despite his apparent exploits because he put a shadow to hang over himself as an excuse to say others think he is not good enough. He has no deeper motivations than pure selfishness by the end of the work and is pure frivolity that he has built up losing the meaning of his sect as a tradition. He had his agency (more than anyone I might add in the work due to his social position) that he used to build his reputation as a passive rich sect leader that has little to do with civilian problems.

4/?] And I think a JC, somehow, that realizes that he did something wrong and is working hard to change for the better and gain self-actualization to become that UWU best jiujiu the stans want him to be, who is ready to talk (not yell at) with WWX, apologize to him, and create a better, healthier relationship with him is a much more powerful reconciliation and happy ending than 'everyone is wrong and mean and they all apologize to JC, which magically gets rid of all his issues'.

He is forced out of culpability in reconciliation because simply put, his audience do not like the reality that relationships fray and dissolve with no further resolution other than we as adults both need to move on for safety and good health. It is not acceptable in real life and fiction is allowed to place that also in it's thematic relationships. He has a small, small spark of recognition at the end of the main story, however he himself seems to choose to ignore it, as change is hard and he has never taken to that well as was foreshadowed with his dogs and the idea of sharing a space with Wei Wuxian. To write this is an awful lot of work into his psyche which is not a nice place, he is a terrible being and downplaying that to make a sugar sweet person does not work instantaneously. He is the one responsible for the entire fallout with Wei Wuxian and he hysterically realizes that even as he tries to continue to blame Wei Wuxian.

The issue that I have with his current stan culture, is that they already view him as something he is not. They play at bicycle with all of the other protagonists that have positive traits that they strip as they see fit; Good affirming loving to children adult Lan Wangji, Self-sacrificing ultimately did it all for love and care Wei Wuxian, Hard exterior but softened to who they consider an annoyance Wen Qing, Loyal as partners in their exploits on the field and always have each others back Wen Ning. They even take Jin Guangyao's persona of playing damsel and using that as a positive to soften up Jiang Cheng into something he has never been for anyone for ships.

[5/5] Also, making WWX/WN/LWJ apologize just makes them look better than JC. Like, stans supposedly love JC, so they ahouldn't be lazy and work hard to give him actual character development. Again, I'm sorry for spamming your ask. It just really baffles me about where they get these 'hot' takes (All I'm going to say is that JC was ungrateful, and WN had a reason verbally dismantle him).

They see this, but, they will spin it in any way to excuse Jiang Cheng due to the story itself showing that he was in the wrong to everyone he flung accusations at and his hate. No one but him is at fault for his spite as he had gotten his revenge on the ones that had ruined Lotus Pier and killed his parents. His own resentment pitted him against good and well meaning people that he refused to help as he mimicked his mother's words about raising their heads higher out of goodness instead of keeping low and staying self-centered. There is the underlying criticism of taking individual arrogance as self-care at the cost of others. Each point that Wen Ning makes is exactly what Jiang Cheng himself knows as he hated Wei Wuxian for being something he could not be or even wanted to be. Jiang Cheng wants kindness but does not understand that kindness to others needs to be selfless and accept the hurt that can come with that in life. He encompasses the fall from the path of buddhist lifestyle, "The Three Poisons" to Wangxian's "Without Envy" at the stories end.

[6/5] P.S. I'm not saying I want reconciliation fics, but I just feel that if stans want JC to have a happy ending, then I think that he should actively work for it. I think it would be interesting to see what force of nature would push him through a character development because throwing a therapist at him would result in a murder.

"I'm not saying I want reconciliation fics, but I just feel that if stans want JC to have a happy ending, then I think that he should actively work for it."

They do not think he has to work for it, they say his tragedy is enough, while heaping accusations against Wei Wuxian and saying his own are not enough to absolve him. Something Wei Wuxian has never denied and told all present they are allowed to forever hate him for what he had done in the past, but that they need to find a way to live in a life that is always moving on. He learned that grudges do nothing once they are absolved and it leaves you with hate with nothing else to do with it once that object is gone. In terms of reconciliation, I do not ever think that either want anything other than a distant peaceful out of each other's life set up. Jiang Cheng does not need Wei Wuxian in his life to be satisfied and never has since he used him as the handicap to hide behind to stay angry and miserable. Being without that fallback opens the world far more for him to change than him ever interacting like an old friend with Wei Wuxian ever again, if he ever had the guts to do that.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #jiang cheng #yeah I am using that tag block me if it upsets you #pokes this sorry for the length I tried #listen... only i am his trash queen

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no-droids · 4 years

Text

Chapter 5: Of Metal and Men

Part five of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5.1K OUR LONGEST SIN YET FOUNDLINGS

Warnings: SMUT, oral sex (m receiving), dirty talk, mild mild degredation whoops

A/N: Uhh this is so fluffy? wtf how come??/?

“Mando?”

“Hm.”

“I have to pee.”

He grunts. “So go pee.”

“I can’t see.”

“Turn on a light.”

“But…” You don’t even want to say the words aloud. You’ve so far convinced yourself that if you just never mention the fact that he’s got his helmet off right now, he’ll somehow forget to put it back on again.

It’s not that you necessarily want him to deviate from the ways of the Mandalore, obviously; you have more respect for his culture than that. No, it's just that. This is so nice. Hearing him speak without a modulator warping the natural frequency of his voice, being able to feel his skin directly under your lips with your face buried in the crook of his neck like this. Practically everything on this fucking ship is metal—the floor beneath you, the mechanics, the hull, the cockpit, the blasters, the armor. When he puts it on, he becomes nearly invincible; an unreadable, impenetrable fortress that abides by a strict code he rarely deviates from.

But without all that, he’s so… human. Not a Mandalorian, just a man. Everything that gives him prestige and recognition stripped away. Every weapon he straps to his body removed. The code he’s honored his entire life suspended in a paradisiacal loophole that you never want to end, even if it means having to walk around in the dark for the rest of your life.

He has to put the helmet back on at some point, you’re eventually forced to remind yourself. What starts out as an impossible task slowly becomes easier as the pressure in your bladder increasingly makes itself known, a reminder that you too are only human and sometimes humans have to pee soon after they wake up.

Which, y’know, a lot of times is okay. But sometimes, like right now, it really fucking isn’t okay. Because right now, his hand is so big and warm resting against your upper-back, shoved up underneath the fabric of your shirt and spread out across your shoulder blade. Right now you can feel his heartbeat through his chest, feel his lungs expand and contract slowly against you. The last thing you want is to move, and the darkness makes a perfect scapegoat.

You’re quiet for too long, apparently, because he eventually turns his chin to brush his lips against your temple. “Turn on a light. Just don’t look.”

You honestly don’t blame him. He hasn’t had as much time to contemplate the staggering predicament you’re in. “Those two things aren’t mutually exclusive, shiny.”

“Go. I trust you.”

Your lashes brush against his neck when your eyes pop open, and the giant pang you feel in your chest shouldn’t be nearly as debilitating as it is. You know he trusts you, it goes without saying. But it’s one thing to travel around the galaxy with him, cultivate that inherent trust that comes naturally with odd partnerships that work surprisingly well. He trusts you to look after the kid, trusts you to pilot and maintain his ship, trusts you to cauterize his wounds when he’s incapable of doing so. He even trusts you enough to fall asleep next to you, leaving himself unarmored and vulnerable in ways you know you’ll never truly be able to understand.

But this—this is entirely different. This is the Way. And he’s half-asleep right now, putting a proverbial blaster in your hand and painting a target on his livelihood, telling you he trusts you enough to uphold one of the strictest, most foundational pillars of his belief system for him.

Okay. Okay. If this is what he wants. You’re not sure you’d put nearly as much blind faith in your own abilities (pun totally intended), but okay. You trust him and apparently he trusts you, so by some weirdly paradoxical extension inwards, you’re just going to have to trust yourself, too. He’s always been a man of relatively few words, so it shouldn’t really come as a surprise to you that somehow only three of them work to provide you with more motivation than you’ve experienced in your entire life. If this is what he wants, then you’ll fight logic with gloves on and downright force yourself to see without seeing. Somehow.

You slowly start to wiggle out of his arms, but then pause for a second to tilt your chin up and press a soft kiss to his lips, trying not to get distracted from your task when he mmphs low in his throat and his hand comes up to cradle your jaw, holding you there for just a bit longer than you originally planned.

“Go,” he eventually breathes into your mouth.

“You’re not making this any easier.”

“Go.”

“Fuck—fine.” You carefully remove yourself and do your best to stand up on the blanket with unsteady legs, but then you stop for an entirely different reason, patting the skin on your bare hips in the pitch blackness to check. “Wait, hang on, did—did you not put any pants back on me last night?”

“…Was I supposed to?” Eventually comes from somewhere by your feet.

No. No, he most certainly was not. You’re honestly just surprised it took you this long to notice, especially since you’ve been subtly clenching your thighs and delaying the inevitable in the darkness for so long.

You don’t end up answering him, determined instead to find your way to the fresher without the use of sight so you can come back to him quicker. That’s easier said than done, though. It’s slow going from the start, trying to step over him without actually knowing exactly where he is, carefully tapping your toes to the ground three times before putting any weight on them and hoping you don’t accidentally step on anything important.

He takes the possibility away when you hear him sigh and strong fingers wrap themselves around your ankles in the dark, pulling and guiding your legs up over his body while muttering inaudibly under his breath. Something tells you he’s still getting used to having companions that are so blatantly helpless without him, but he does good in rising to the challenge regardless.

The second he releases you and you take a step forward off the blanket though, you immediately trip over something bulky and painfully hard on the floor, catching yourself just in time but managing to stub your toe in the process.

“Careful,” his voice says from behind you, over the loud clang echoing throughout the hull. “Beskar’s there.”

“Thanks, I almost tripped.” Once you get closer to the machinery standing upright against the far wall of the hull though, it’s a bit easier to see. The red and green lights act as your navigation beacons, stationary air traffic control wands guiding your turbulent body through the darkness.

The fresher light is fucking blinding when you finally make contact with the switch, and with the illumination comes an incredibly stern reminder to yourself not to look behind you. It… it’d be so easy, wouldn’t it? Turning your head just a fraction right now would be the equivalent of pulling a blaster’s trigger a mere inch—devastating, life-altering, and permanent, yet somehow so fundamentally easy.

You don’t, of course. It’s just the fleeting thought of it that jars you for a moment. You quickly shut the door behind you, use the toilet (annoyingly slanted thing you need to have a talk with him about soon, more of a weird space urinal than anything else and not really designed to be used by people with vaginas at all), and then wash your hands.

Your slightly damp fingers press tight to bridge over your eyes before you carefully open the door again, knowing you’re now facing him and the fluorescent light over the sink behind you is probably shining directly on him.

“Is it… safe?” You ask after a second.

“I’m not a rancor.” The sound of his voice makes you sigh in relief and your heart drop in disappointment simultaneously.

Modulated. Filtered, and familiar.

Sure enough, you peek through your fingers to see him laying back with an arm casually folded behind his head, his helmet back on. Even though the only skin you see is his bare hand resting on his stomach, he still looks fucking gorgeous like this—waiting silently for you in the make-shift bed you shared, blanket twisted around his lower half.

You pause there in the doorway so you can just admire him for a second. Relaxing, looking so trim and flexible in his long sleeved under-armor without all that beskar weighing him down. He looks back at you through the chrome visor, letting it tilt to the side and rest lazily in the cradle of his arm, and you suddenly remember with a jolt just how incredibly pantsless you are right now.

“Come here.”

Maker, he still makes you nervous. Stars, he had his mouth buried between your legs for longer than you can even imagine last night, why are you still so nervous? Is it the proximity? Just the literal act of seeing him in front of you? Not being able to feel like yourself around him unless he’s a disembodied voice in the darkness? Not being able to remember he’s an actual fucking person under there if you’re not actively touching his body in some way?

You feel… kind of shy now. Why? It’s like a flip inside you he can switch at will, just ever so subtly change his posture or tone of voice and bam—he’s dangerous, remember? He’s an underground bounty hunter, remember? He’s a mystery, he’s unpredictable—he’s an invincible, unreadable, impenetrable fortress, and you know absolutely nothing about him. Remember?

You trip over his armor again for an entirely different reason on your way back to him this time, despite how much better you can see now. You catch yourself once more, looking down at the offending pile of beskar like it did that on purpose, but then stop to consider it for just a second.

It’s just metal. And he’s just a man. You know he’s probably killed more people than you can count and he’s intimidating as all fuck, but you also know he stutters when he gets really worked up and decided to fall asleep next to you without his helmet on. Because he’s just a man, and men aren’t born with shields on their backs and visors covering their eyes and grenades in their hands. Not even Mandalorians.

So you slowly bend down and grab his hefty gloves, taking a moment to study them before fitting your comparatively small hands into each of them one at a time, flexing your fingers inside the fabric and feeling how much space the tips of them have to move before reaching leather.

He says your name shortly as you’re carefully stepping your right foot into his oversized boot. You ignore him, balancing precariously on one leg while your left foot slides in the other one. “Hey, guess who I am.”

“No.”

You reach down and lift the unexpectedly heavy ammo belt over your head, letting the thick leather drape between your breasts and come to rest just below the curve of your bare hip. “I’ll give you a hint,” you say, gathering the mass of dark fabric at your feet and making sure your butt doesn’t get caught on the thick bandolier when you rise back up again. You wrap the cape around your shoulders and lift your chin to tie it in a sloppy, makeshift little knot around your throat, fingers noticeably less nimble when confined in loose leather. “Handy with a blaster, not real big on droids. I also wear a helmet, probably because my face is too pretty to match my menacing vibe but those rumors are unconfirmed.”

“Come here,” he gruffs impatiently, but you just turn around and waddle back a few steps in the baggy getup, much too tiny feet clomping around awkwardly in his roomy boots and the floor-length cape dragging on the ground behind you.

And then you stop, before grabbing the hem of it and whipping around dramatically to face him, giving him your best bounty hunter pose.

“I can bring you in warm,” your voice is a deep as you can get it, your eyebrows narrowed as you fingergun and shift with flair. “Or—”

“Hey—careful—” he quickly sits up and points at your hand, “—don’t touch your thumb to the—”

“—I can bring you in—” And then an actual, real life, giant ass blaze of fucking fire suddenly shoots from your wrist and scares the living shit out of you so much that you stumble backwards and trip over your cape, choking and flailing as you come down hard on your bare ass.

You blink up at him from the ground with wide, terrified eyes. He looks back at you, arm outstretched and frozen in midair.

And then he laughs.

Mando actually fucking laughs at you.

You stare at him in utter shock as he abruptly drops his hand to his lap and his helmet to his chest, his shoulders shaking with it. As lovely and uplifting the sound is, you’re not really sure how to feel about the fact that the first time you managed to get an outright laugh out of him was at the risk of your own mortality.

“Excuse me,” you say after a second, trying your best to sound appalled. You carefully remove the death gauntlets with your hands extended as far away from your face as possible, fingers spread and thumb held completely rigid in position. “Are you actually laughing at the fact that I almost just died horrifically in front of you?”

“Stars, just—” he lifts his head back up to look at you, “fucking—come here. You’re worse than the kid is, I swear.”

You slowly stand up, and the boots are so big around your ankles that you don’t even have to kick them off, you can just leave them there in position on the floor as you lift your feet and begin walking over to him. “I’ll have you know I am a fierce bounty hunter—”

“Terrifying,” he mutters, and you’re about halfway done untying his cape when you get close enough for him to reach out and snatch the bottom of it, swiftly yanking you down on top of him and removing the fabric from your throat at the same time. He ignores your dramatic choking noise, catching your flailing body with barely a grunt. “Craziest in the guild. Your first kill was yourself.”

“Yeah, I—” you oof and giggle as he immediately flips you around, downright giddy at the ease with which he maneuvers you on the floor and gets on top of you, “—I bring them in warm, or I bring them in hot.”

“Stop,” you can hear his smile through the helmet as he catches each of your wrists and pins them to the ground by your head. “Maker.”

“Wait—” you try to wiggle out from under him. It’s futile, of course, not just because he’s all muscle while he holds you down and straddles your hips, but because all your body weight is now laying on top of his ammo belt as it slings around your chest. “Wait, h-hang on—the fresher light’s still on.”

“So?”

“So I can see you right now, which means—” you can’t take that stupid thing off your head and kiss me.

That’s what you want to say. You catch yourself just in time, biting your lip and blinking up at your warped reflection in the chrome visor. He releases your wrists and lifts his torso up tall. “…W-which means—”

Mando’s too smart for that, though. You’re not getting one by him anytime soon. Before you can come up with an alternative, he hooks his fingers under the thick band of leather trailing down through the valley between your breasts and calls you out.

“Do you want me to take my helmet off?” He asks, tilting his head down at you and letting his hand slide back and forth under the ammo belt idly. For a second you think he’s going to remove it, try and find some way to wiggle it off you in this position, but then he just lets the heavy bandolier drop back down to your sternum again and continues moving his hands down your tummy. “Hm? Or do you want to see?”

And then one of his thumbs catches the hem of his trousers and ever so slowly starts to pull the fabric downwards. Your breath stutters as tan skin and dark, coarse hair are gradually revealed right in front of your eyes, the hemline making a mouthwatering triangle shape that runs alongside the lines of his Adonis belt.

When he stops just at the very base of his cock, it takes you a second to realize he’s waiting for an answer.

“Uh—” Stars, what the fuck kind of harrowing, existentially crippling question is this? Kiss him or look at him? Is he serious? “Uhhhh…” You legitimately feel torn, blinking up at the visor and noticing the struggle blatantly written all over your reflection. Why in Maker’s name would he put this on you? On the one hand, his mouth. On the other hand, his—

“I want you to see,” he admits quietly, and you flick your eyes down to look at him slowly running his thumb along the slope of flesh peeking out of the dark curls. “Can I show you?”

Oh fuck, what is happening? And why are you so wet already?

“Uh… ye-yeah—” and then he’s immediately using his other hand to reach inside and shift up just a bit, before he eases his gorgeous cock out of his pants by cupping his balls and letting the fabric hooked in his thumb rest under them. He’s already half-hard for you, already deliciously thick as he carefully lowers himself back down again. Against all reason, his skin practically glows under the artificial lighting, somehow looking sunkissed in places that never see the sun.

Maker, you want it in your mouth.

You have no idea why that’s your first thought. Okay, well no, that’s not true—you know exactly why that’s your first thought, especially when you can physically see him getting harder and harder right in front of you, watch him trace his fingers down his shaft and lazily brush them over the head. You love the way he touches himself, how his hands look cradling the base, the beautiful contrast between the dark hair and his warm skin tone.

He slowly starts to move down your body, slide his legs back on either side of you until he’s straddling your lower thighs, and it’s not until his cock goes in the exact opposite direction you want it to (away from your mouth) that you find your voice.

“Hey, wait—I want—” his touch immediately stills along your hips and he lifts his helmet, letting you scramble to prop yourself up with your elbows, “—let me go down on you. Please.”

“I told you I’d fuck you when you woke up,” he says, dropping his gaze back down between your legs. His voice somehow sounds deeper through the filter. Maybe not the pitch exactly, but the… color? Fuller, darker, more depth. “You want to make me into a liar?”

“Never. Fuck my mouth instead.”

His hands tighten and his breathing subtly picks up through the modulator. “I want your pussy. First. We’re almost to Corellia and I’m not risking my life on another hunt until I’ve fucked it like I want to.”

“You decide that timeline,” you remind him breathlessly, pushing your upper-body up off the floor and catching the fabric of his tunic near his neck.

“I have to earn credits somehow, I can’t just—” he abruptly cuts himself off when you yank his collar to the side and lick a slow, hot, wet line up his throat. “—I… I-I can’t just stay on this ship with you f-forever and… and…”

His breath catches when you bite down on the thick cord of muscle connecting his neck to his shoulder. And then he murmurs your name when you wrap your hand around his hard cock.

“You can do whatever you want to my pussy,” you whisper against his skin, feeling him shudder under your lips as you slowly pull your hand up and down the thick length of him. “Whenever you want. I made that clear last night. All I’m asking is that right now, you lay back and let me suck your cock for a little bit. Is that okay?”

He doesn’t answer with words, but he throbs under your hand and his body is surprisingly malleable as you urge him to move back slightly, just enough for you to collect your legs out from under him and rise up on your knees to face him. You keep stroking him the entire time, sucking marks down his neck while you hold the hemline to the side. Nobody will ever be able to see them, but somehow that makes it even better. A secret only you and him know. Next time he scares off a crowd of locals, he’ll be wearing your signet under his armor.

When you’ve sufficiently bitten and kissed marks along his neck and the fabric won’t stretch anymore, you reach down and pull it up from the bottom, lifting it up up up—up until it rests right above his sternum and you can see almost the entire length of his torso underneath, tan and dusted in dark hair.

You strongarm him back to sit on the floor with one hand and hike your own shirt up over your breasts with the other, letting the fabric bunch under your armpits while his ammo belt bisects your chest diagonally. He curses when you immediately climb on top of him and start dragging your skin against his, rolling your exposed tits and pussy against the hard planes of his body and letting him feel how soft you really are.

“Is that okay?” You ask him once more, rubbing yourself into him. “Will you let me suck your cock, Mando?”

“Fuck—” he growls, grabbing your hips, “—why are you—h-how do you always make it feel so… so good—?”

“It’s supposed to feel good,” you tell him, beginning to slide down his body.

“Not like this,” he pants, tipping his head back when you slowly lick down his chest. “Not—not everything, n-not all the time.”

The warmth that settles in the pit of your tummy is intensified by the clear drop of precum shining at the tip of his cock, now achingly swollen and a mouthwatering shade darker in color than the rest of him. “Keep talking,” you whisper. “It’s sexy.”

And then you slide his head into your mouth and let your tongue flutter gently along his frenulum.

Mando instantly goes rigid and grabs a fistful of your hair as you hum and taste his precum, slowly brushing your tongue over his tip to see if you can get any more out of him like this without going deeper.

“Fuck—” he grits while lifting his helmet to look, every muscle in his body tensing under you. “Y-your mouth is—” he gasps when you gently swirl circles around the pulsing head, his open palm coming down hard on the blanket with a dull thud, “—fuck, your mouth is s-so—so fucking good—”

You open your jaw and take him down a few inches so he can feel your throat, satisfied when his helmet falls back and his grip tightens in your hair. You slowly begin bobbing up and down, dragging the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft and getting him nice and wet. His thighs almost feel like he’s wearing beskar over them, his entire body held so incredibly tight and stiff as you softly pleasure him.

You can only get around half of him in your mouth without straining for it, so you soon lift off him and start coating your palm and fingers in spit. His head raises immediately, exposed chest heaving as he watches.

“You’re so tense,” you murmur, reaching down and starting to jerk him with your slick hand. He doesn’t relax into it, instead he straightens his back even more, his hips starting to thrust into your grip. “Do you want me to stop?”

“I want to fuck you,” he growls, the exact opposite of relaxed. “You—you can’t w-walk around half-naked in—in my clothes and expect me t—”

He cuts himself off with a groan when you take him back down again, deeper this time. And then he relents and starts slowly fucking into your mouth, gradually rolling his hips further and further with every thrust. One hand fists itself into the blanket while the other holds your hair back as you open your throat and work the rest of his length with slippery fingers.

When you take him down as far as you can and you drop your palm down to cradle his balls, Mando just about loses his mind.

“Fuck—let me fuck you,” he starts rasping at the ceiling, “please, l-let me—let me pound you into this dirty f-fucking ground like you wanted, like—like the filthy little girl you are—”

You hold there and swallow around his thick cock, letting your other hand slither down between your own legs and start rubbing your clit. He probably can’t see you do it from this angle but it feels so much better this way regardless, having him as far down as your throat as possible and listening to him babble while you touch yourself.

The sound you make pulling off him to breathe isn’t necessarily the most attractive thing in the galaxy, but with the way he groans and tugs your hair sharply in response, you’d think it was the sexiest thing he’s ever heard. You keep jerking his throbbing cock and rubbing circles around your clit, before moving down to take one of his balls into your mouth.

His grip tightens, along with the gorgeously soft skin under your tongue. “W-Wait—stop—”

You look up at him. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat and everything about him is unbearably stiff, even with the way his body is sprawled out and his chest rocks up and down with exertion.

“Sorry, I just—I was—” he gasps, “—I d-didn’t want to—to c-cum—”

“I want you to cum,” you murmur, blinking up at him and dragging your tongue up the length of his swollen, throbbing cock. “Please. Want it down my throat.”

You don’t know how it’s possible for his body to go even more rigid, but it does. “You—?”

He possibly could’ve stopped himself, you think. Even with the way you start gently sucking on his tip and looking up at him innocently after telling him you want to swallow his load, maybe he could’ve stopped the way his balls suddenly pull up tight, the way his grip on your hair turns to steel and his helmet rolls to the side.

But then the subtle shift of his head means he can see your hand moving between your legs, you can tell. You can tell, because he makes a choking sound through the modulator and his stomach flexes, and then he’s cumming down your throat exactly like you wanted him to.

There’s a second between the moment of detonation and the explosive result of it. It’s just enough time for him to slowly tilt his chin up and let out the smallest, quietest moan you’ve ever heard from him before his cock starts throbbing on your tongue, his balls working to steadily pump cum up his shaft.

You pull up and start swirling circles around his head just as the first spurt hits your tongue, moaning at the taste of him and preening at his hoarse whisper of your name. You swallow everything he gives you, drain him until he’s completely empty and spent, trembling in pieces on the floor.

Admittedly you do keep him there in your mouth just a little bit longer than you should, just taking a minute to savor how good he tastes and how fucking beautiful his cock is, how stunning his body is exposed and spread out for you on the ground like this.

“Keep—keep doing that and I’ll get hard again,” he eventually warns, though his voice comes out sounding like sandpaper in his throat.

You hum and finally pull off him. “That’s got to be the least threatening thing you’ve ever said to someone, I think.”

“Not able t—” he jerks when you bite his hipbone, “—to scare you off, apparently. Most people run from me.”

“Nope. Told you I wouldn’t, remember? Back on Cantonica. I’m also the craziest bounty hunter in the guild, so. Look.” You lift up to show him. “I even have an ammo belt, see? It holds all of the bullets, for all of my guns that I have.”

His hand slowly comes up and you think he’s going to grab the band of leather across your chest to either take it off you or pull you forward with it, but then he just grabs one of your breasts and gently squeezes it instead. “You’re beautiful.”

Your breath catches. You blink twice at him, your heart suddenly thundering under his hand.

“Wearing my armor. Not wearing it. Not wearing anything. Wearing your clothes. In complete darkness. You’re beautiful.”

You think—for one ludicrous, insane second, you think that the enormous swelling in your chest literally transfers itself up to your brain and causes you to have an aneurysm right there on the floor in front of him.

But nope—it’s just the entire hull starting to violently shift and shake, swerving sideways and jerking upwards with rapid, unpredictable shifts in gravity.

You thrown on top of him in the chaos and try to find some sort of stable ground without accidentally kneeing him in the crotch. Mando grunts and gets rolled on top of you when the ship immediately veers the other way, the weight of him suddenly crushing your lungs and making it impossible to breathe with the brutal changes in g-force. Did he—did he leave the baby in the fucking cockpit?

He left the baby in the fucking cockpit.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #smut #reader insert #pedro pascal #no-droids

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