#how they expected us not to ship them is still beyond me

[wanderinginksplot-writes]

Gar Cyare Chapter Twelve

Finally back after an unexpected year-long hiatus!

Word Count: 4,400

Warnings: Implied threats, definite threats, mentions of genetic experimentation, suspicion, mentions of the Attack on Kamino, fear.

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Ca'tra (Night Sky)

Your office looked roughly the same as it always had. Bland Kaminoan architecture dressed in shades of white, gray, and black held a collection of furniture that had been built with the clear emphasis of function over form. Your datapads were untouched, as were the slight hints of mess around the edges of your desk. 

But everything seemed a little strange with the light… or, more accurately, the lack of it. 

The shutters that covered all of the exterior-facing windows on Kamino were closed, both protecting you from any attempt to break through the transparisteel and keeping you from seeing anything that might be happening outside. 

Though nighttime had fallen and the Kaminoan skies had been dark with clouds when the shields lowered, there was still plenty to see. The GAR had recalled all personnel in the sector to Kamino. There was too much chance that the Separatists could come back. This time, they could use the knowledge they had gathered during the last invasion - plus any new intel - to destroy the Fett genetic sample for good. 

The arrival of new ships was nearly constant, and you had heard chatter from the cadets that at least two Venator-class Star Destroyers were guarding the areas just beyond Kamino’s atmosphere. Any ships that intended to land had been issued special clearance codes. If they failed to deliver them at the right time or on the right frequency, they would be shot down upon breaking atmosphere. 

You hadn’t heard the anti-aircraft guns fire yet, so you were fairly confident that there had been no actual invasion. 

Still, you itched to see beyond the barriers, though you knew your reasoning was senseless. You wouldn’t see Alpha coming back. General Ti had told you that he would be gone at least another twelve hours, but your mind kept insisting that you would be able to watch him land in relative safety. 

If you were being honest with yourself, that was why you were still in your office instead of your bedroom. Sure, you could pretend that you were there in case General Ti or Commander Colt needed something from you, but in all reality, it was because you were filled with dread at the idea of returning to your empty quarters.

You already hated the idea that Alpha was out in the galaxy when there were potentially Separatists in the area, but to be reminded of it every time you looked around your bedroom? No, you were perfectly content in your office. 

A knock on your door made you sit upright. “Yes?” 

Your hammering heart gradually slowed as Commander Colt peered inside. “Why are you still awake?” 

You shrugged. “Too nervous to sleep, I guess.” 

A frown creased the space between the commander’s eyebrows as he stepped into your office. “You should get some rest while you can. If we are invaded, you need to be at full awareness.” 

That wasn’t exactly comforting, but you nodded. 

“Sorry,” Commander Colt said abruptly. “Probably didn’t help anything, huh?” 

“Not exactly,” you admitted. The concern for your nerves was surprising, more something you would have expected from Alpha. Suddenly, you wondered if the commander had come to find you because Alpha had asked him to. “Have you heard from Alpha?” 

He shook his head. “No, why? Have you?” 

“No.” You sighed. “I thought that might be why you’re here.”

“Limit asked me to check on you,” he told you. That made more sense, but before you could say so, Commander Colt added, “I was already on my way.” 

“Oh.” You toyed with a datapad on your desk to distract yourself from how slowly time was passing. “Why?” 

“Alpha cares about you,” he explained slowly. “More than anyone else.” 

You chuckled softly. “I know I’m his favorite nat-born.” 

Commander Colt shook his head slightly. “You’re his favorite person. He cares about you more than anyone else. Between how much he likes you and how much you’ve done to take care of him - and all my brothers, actually - you’re vod’ika.” 

Little sibling. 

The term made your chest warm with pleasure. “Thank you, Colt.” 

Colt cleared his throat. “Anyway, how are you handling all of this?” 

You took a deep breath. “I’m fine, I suppose. I’m just so… sick of being on Kamino when it goes on lockdown.” 

For a full beat after you had finished speaking, Colt stared at you. At last, he burst out laughing. “I thought you were going to be scared.” 

“I might be eventually,” you said with a shrug. “But right now, I can only think about how I’ve been here every time the lab has been locked down. I understand it’s important, but it’s getting old.”

Colt nodded in commiseration and you gave him a considering look. “Are you okay?”

“Me?” he repeated, seeming stunned when you nodded. “What do you mean?” 

You glanced at your desk, trying to buy some time to find the right phrasing. “The last time there was an invasion, you were hurt pretty badly. I don’t remember it, but Alpha was shaken up and that takes a lot. I gather that it was… close. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I’m fine,” Colt insisted. You weren’t sure about that, but if pretending was how he got through things, you weren’t going to begrudge him the coping mechanism. He turned as if to leave, but stopped before he stepped through your door. “Go to sleep soon, yeah? Limit’s working a long shift to get the medbays prepped, but he asked me to pass on a warning. If he comes by and you’re still here, he’ll tell Alpha.” 

You laughed at that despite yourself. “He probably would.”

Colt chuckled too, patting the doorframe in a gesture that seemed to punctuate his departure. “Goodnight, vod’ika.”

“Goodnight, Colt.”

When you were alone once more, you started getting everything put away for the night… but paused when your datapad slipped from your fingers and clattered against the surface of the table. The screen flickered on in the collision and you frowned, pulling it closer. 

Displaying on the screen were the records that you had been digging into before all of the investigation and shutdown chaos, records you hadn’t been able to finish accessing because you had run out of time. You had told Colt that you would go to bed and you didn’t intend to lie… but this was too intriguing to leave for the next day. 

It was fine, you reasoned. You weren’t tired yet and there was finally time to do some digging. 

Hidden behind a maze of misnamed file pathways and a selection of different passcodes, you found it: records of the clone trooper gene isolation process. The records were old, written when Ko Sai was the Chief Scientist of Kamino. She had been an integral part of creating the clone trooper genetic blueprint. 

That had confused you at first. They were clones of Jango Fett - why would the genes need to be altered at all? But even skimming the notes had been enough to give you an answer: the clone troopers weren’t exact genetic copies at all. Ko Sai had made some changes to make the troopers more loyal, less independent, and less vicious. 

There were a few outliers - especially in the early batches of troopers - and creating any living thing came with risks of aberrations in the genetics, but the experiments had been successful. That was according to Ko Sai’s notes, of course, but they were dry and scientific enough that you assumed the wasn’t much risk of them being exaggerated. 

The changes to trooper personalities were in a group Ko Sai referred to as ‘behavioral traits’. The more chilling half was designated as ‘genetic traits’. 

Genetic traits seemed to be the way the Kaminoans referred to the changes they made to keep themselves in business. Not only did they control things like troopers building muscle faster, but mercilessly capitalistic qualities like the troopers’ accelerated aging process. 

You didn’t like the idea of the changes that had been made to the troopers genes. You were self-reflective enough to realize that part of your aversion was because you didn’t like the idea of gene manipulation in general. The accelerated aging was particular egregious to you since it was actively working to decrease the amount of time you could possibly spend with Alpha. 

But the notes fascinated you - not because of their content, but because through them you could tell that Ko Sai was a deeply paranoid being. 

The records were sealed with a virtual warning: if someone without the proper security codes attempted to slice into them, the files would self-destruct. And not just the files on the record you were viewing. No, the trap would wipe every known copy of the records from any device. The trigger had been built into the file transfer itself and could be detonated at any time.

Your interest was piqued. You had been given full access to everything you needed for your report and had the highest possible security clearance, but you still held your breath as you typed in your access code. 

Thankfully, it worked and you spent a blissful hour reading through all of Ko Sai’s notes and records. A lot of it was gibberish to you and - you suspected - would be to anyone other than a highly-trained geneticist. 

As the hour grew later and you started to worry that Limit really would come to kick you out, you tried to make a copy of the files onto your datapad, but were blocked. You weren’t sure what kind of scientist would keep her files from being copied, but she must have been very certain that she would be able to access that information in other places. 

Before you shut down the datapad entirely, you found a microscopic file attached in the shell of an unrelated topic. It was a simple document that you might have overlooked… if it didn’t force you to enter your password once more. From what you gathered once you could view the vague document, Ko Sai had made copies of all of her information. She had stored them on a collection of personal datapads. 

The description of where to find them was heavily coded, but you gamely copied it onto your own datapad. Then, feeling an echo of Ko Sai’s paranoia, you also jotted it down onto a nearby piece of flimsi. With other topics for the report running thin, maybe finding the original notes from Ko Sai’s experiments would be a good way to extend your assignment.

You spent a few moments staring at the code, jotting some preliminary guesses down beneath the characters. The most common letters were likely overrepresented among the words, unless Ko Sai had been using a rotational cipher. You wouldn’t put it past her, but even rotational ciphers weren’t impossible to figure out.

Cracking the code and extending your report-writing process were things that could wait. You tucked the datapad and flimsi into your bag and shut off the lights in your office. Too much longer and you were worried you really would run into Limit, but you were bringing the codes along for insurance in case it turned into a sleepless night.

Sometimes it was good to have an office so far from your quarters. It kept you involved in the day-to-day life on Kamino and took you through some highly populated areas on the trip. And with the hours you worked, you could use the exercise. But it was an unpleasant trip late at night, when all you wanted was to crawl into bed.

Perhaps you wouldn’t have minded walking through the main sections of Kamino if they weren’t full of cadets giving you suspicious looks. 

It seemed like you had just convinced everyone that you hadn’t caused the first invasion of Kamino. No one had told the cadets many details about what had caused this lockdown, but they paid enough attention to know that you were close to the situation. 

After a few hallways of those wary glances, you cut down a side path. The slightly longer trip was a price you gladly paid in exchange for avoiding all of the watchful eyes. 

You found yourself in a section of the city that housed the learning terminals. They weren’t currently in use - all flash training had been suspended while Kamino was on lockdown and there was no reason for anyone but a cadet to be in the terminal rooms. 

So why were you hearing adult voices coming from one? 

You peeked in through the partially open door, taking in the scene in a millisecond: There were six troopers in the room. Two of them were working at one of the terminals while the other four were observing the display screen at the front of the room. 

Surprisingly, you recognized the troopers. They had arrived on Kamino earlier that day. They weren’t the first to land on-planet after the lockdown had started, but they were one of the earlier groups. 

The reason they had attracted your attention was because of the reaction of the cadets. Most arrivals on Kamino before and after the six troopers were met with warm welcomes (and often a little teasing) from the cadets. But these six were given a wary distance. They didn’t seem bothered by it - in fact, they had seemed to accept that wariness as their due. 

Their attitude struck you as strange. The troopers were loyal, and that quality apparently went down to a genetic level. The idea of troopers who didn’t seem to feel that draw to be close with their brothers was unique, and you were very curious to know how that uniqueness had managed to survive long enough to leave Kamino at all. 

Of course, that curiosity was secondary to their motivations with the learning terminals.

You recognized the file pathways displayed at the front of the room: these troopers were trying to slice into Ko Sai’s private records. 

Perhaps it wouldn’t have been such a crisis if the Kaminoans hadn’t told General Ti that they intended to launch a full investigation of their information. They needed to find out what had been sliced, duplicated, or downloaded. And to get all of that done, they needed to shut down terminal access and cycle all codes and passwords. It was only with the General’s interference that you had managed to retain your own access. 

You were willing to bet that these troopers, whoever they were, didn’t have the same privileges you held. In that case, there was a very real risk that they were about to trigger a complete wipe of Ko Sai’s library of records. 

“Stop!” you cried, bursting through the doors before you could temper your reaction. 

Unsurprisingly, you were met with four drawn blasters. The two troopers at the terminal continued to work, but the others stared at you. 

“Who are you?” one demanded flatly. 

Your hands had risen instinctively, hovering palm-out as you tried very hard to look nonthreatening. “I’m an administrator. I was sent here by the Senate to write a report about the clone troopers.” 

“Proof?” another trooper asked. 

“You can ask anyone about me,” you said quickly, lamenting that you didn’t wear your Senate ID badge on a regular basis. You hadn’t since your first week on Kamino. “I’ve been here for a while.” 

They looked skeptical, but your attention was focused on the large display screen at the front of the room. 

“Please, you have to stop,” you warned them, your desperation rising as you watched a password entry box appear. “Don’t put in your password! Ko Sai-”

The trooper at the terminal had finished entering his password and submitted it without paying any attention to you. A moment later, the screen flashed red and an ominous timer started counting down. 

“Ko Sai put a self-destruct code into her records,” you finished lamely. 

One of the trooper holstered his blaster and turned to look at the display screen, swearing in Mando’a. “Jaing, can you stop it?” 

“Trying…” one of the troopers at the terminal replied.

You watched just as intently as the troopers did - the ones who weren’t aiming blasters at you, anyway. Only moments later, the trooper stopped typing, a slight slackening in his muscles serving as your only hint of the outcome. The trooper beside him swore colorfully. 

“It’s all gone,” one of the troopers summarized, still watching you for any sign of a fight. 

“Yes.” The one who had been working to circumvent Ko Sai’s trap stood - he had answered to the name ‘Jaing’ - neatly replacing the chair at the terminal. “What now?” 

“Now,” the trooper who had put his blaster away said grimly, “we find out a little more about our new friend.” 

“Always liked meeting new people,” the other trooper at the terminal said with a sharp grin, joining the others.

They were standing around you in a loose semi-circle. Three still held blasters aimed at you, so you stayed in your nonthreatening pose. 

“Who are you?” 

You took a breath, trying to keep from sounding scared. “I’m a Republic administrator, sent by the Senate-”

“You said that already,” a previously silent trooper told you, sounding unimpressed. 

“That’s because it’s true.” 

The one you privately thought of as the leader crossed his arms. “Never said it wasn’t. Doesn’t mean we should care.” 

“Ordo,” one of the others warned quietly. 

A chill went down your spine as you realized the rationale behind the warning: if these men didn’t care about your position as a representative of the Galactic Senate, there was something else motivating them. 

“Are you involved in the infiltration of Kamino?” 

One of the troopers laughed abruptly, the sound loud enough to make you flinch. “What are you talking about, civvie?” 

“How else would you have arrived so early?” you asked, voice soft as you fell into musing the convoluted pathways of logic. “You weren’t the first ones here, but you weren’t far behind. No one should have been traveling through this sector outside of official missions and you weren’t on one of those. And now you’re here, looking at top-secret information about the genetic basis of the clone trooper program. I told you I’m a Senate representative and you’re still thinking about shooting me.”

“See, this is what happens when nat-borns try to think,” one of the men said, chuckling. It was a good act, but you could see the utter lack of emotion in his eyes. “You’re seeing patterns that don’t exist.”

“No,” you refused decisively. “There are too many strange coincidences here. My gut is saying something is off. Why are you here?”

“I have a better question,” Ordo countered. “How did you know about the data wipe code in those files?”

“How did you know about those files at all?” another asked.

“Good point, Mereel,” Ordo congratulated, turning pointedly to face you. “How did you know about Ko Sai’s private holorecords?”

“I’m writing a report about clone troopers,” you repeated firmly. “I was given access to pull from all sources in order to make my report as complete as possible.” 

“Wait,” Jaing ordered, stepping forward. His gaze was intense as he asked, “Do you have a copy of Ko Sai’s data?” 

“No.” The tension lowered slightly, but Jaing was still watching you. “She built in a feature that doesn’t allow for any of the files to be copied.”

“So,” one of the unnamed troopers asked. “Should we neutralize her here or somewhere easier to clean up?” 

You struggled to stay impassive even as your stomach dropped. 

“Udesii, A’den,” Mereel said, holding a hand out. “Killing a Senate representative may not be the best move here.” 

“Why not?” A’den asked, grinning at you. “Planet’s already on lockdown. The long-necks’ll probably think their spy was the one who did it. I doubt if anyone has seen this one since things went dark.”

You straightened, giving him your coldest look. “Commander Colt would disagree with you. As would Captain Alpha-17.” 

The group had grown quiet at Colt’s name, but noticeably relaxed when you mentioned Alpha. 

“Nice try, civvie,” Ordo told you. “Seventeen is off-planet. Probably will be for a while, with the mess they walked into.” 

“What did you do to him?” you demanded, taking a furious and unwise step forward. The blaster barrels weren’t quite touching you, but they weren’t much more than a deep breath away. “If you hurt him-”

“Fiery little thing, isn’t she?” one of the others asked, grinning at the others even as his grip on the blaster stayed firm. 

“So much concern about clones,” A’den mocked. “Don’t you know we’re disposable?” 

“Speaking of,” one of the others interrupted, “she knows who we are and what we were looking for. We need to take care of this before we leave the planet.” 

Jaing lifted a brow at him. “Does that mean you’ve got an idea, Prudii?” 

“The balconies off the lower platforms were always useful. Cuts down on the mess and the body falls right into the sea,” Prudii said with a shrug. One of the others snorted and Prudii frowned at him. “Problem, Komr’k?” 

Komr’k shook his head, clearly fighting a smile. You waited with the others. Nothing seemed to be particularly amusing about the conversation, but perhaps it was just because it was your death that they were discussing. “Just thinking of all the applications of the term ‘aiwha-bait’.”

The reactions ranged from smirks to eye-rolls, but no one seemed to share your growing feeling of nausea. It probably wouldn’t hurt, so long as they executed you with a blaster bolt to the head, but you were getting a little dizzy as you thought about what would happen to your body after you died. And, of course, there were the people you would leave behind. 

No. 

It took some effort, but you pulled yourself out of the spiral you were drifting into. You had survived the Separatist attack on Kamino. You had faced down Ventress, working with some of the best soldiers in the galaxy to make it through the experience relatively unharmed. You could survive this, too. You would. 

The training terminals weren’t close to the lower balconies, not by a long shot. You had visited the balconies many times with Alpha. You knew the area well. There would be plenty of places to attract attention or slip away. And if you couldn’t manage to do either, you would make it loud and violent, enough to attract attention. 

“Let’s get moving,” Ordo ordered as A’den gestured toward the room’s entrance with his blaster. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 

You lifted your chin as you stepped toward the door. Could he see the determination on your face? You almost hoped he could. You wouldn’t passively accept being executed. A hand grabbed your shoulder, tugging so roughly that you stumbled forward.

“Someone should have given you the same warning, Ordo,” Alpha said menacingly, sweeping you through the doorway and behind him. He was in full armor, blocking the doorway with his bulk. 

“Alpha, no!” you urged him. “They have blasters.” 

“So do I,” he said, voice steely. “Plus enough detonators to make the first invasion look like a training mishap.” 

“We have some business with the civvie,” one of the troopers started. It was much more difficult to tell who was speaking when you couldn’t see any of them, but it didn’t matter. Alpha interrupted before anyone could say more than that. 

“Ulyc sushir,” Alpha said menacingly. Even from behind him, his voice rumbled through your chest. “You men are going to stand down. Forget whatever little geroya you had going with her. You’re going to let us walk away. If you think you have anything else to say to her - unlikely - you will go through me. Understood?” 

There was no answer. The next moment, Alpha repeated, “Understood?”

“Copy.” 

That single word seemed to be as far as the troopers were willing to go. Alpha took a step back, carefully keeping himself between you and the others until you were out of sight. 

��Who-?” 

“Wait.” 

You didn’t love being commanded like an animal, but considering that he had likely saved your life, you followed Alpha’s instruction. 

He activated his comlink, keying in a code from memory. 

The voice on the other end - male, older but not elderly - answered almost immediately. “Alph-”

“Call off your dogs,” Alpha demanded, durasteel in his tone. 

“If you’re talking about my boys, they’re on assignment on Kamino.” The voice was genial, friendly, almost paternal. Still, there was a sly undertone that warned you there was something more happening. “I have no say in what they do there.”

“They almost killed a civilian.” Alpha glanced at you, as if worried that you would be startled by his blunt appraisal of the situation. You didn’t react - you had known where things had been headed. “I need to be sure they won’t try it a second time.” 

“The only reason a civilian would be in danger is if they interfered,” the man said. “Dangerous thing in a warzone.” 

“Keep them under control or I’ll send you the tags.”

The staticky silence on the comlink turned deafening, almost icy. “We’ve never had reason to argue, Seventeen. If you push this, I guarantee that will change. You don’t want a revenge-driven mando on your shebs.”

“And you don’t want me to take a closer look at who wiped Dengar’s records from the Kaminoan databases,” Alpha countered. “The civvie is off-limits, Skirata. Tell them before we have a misunderstanding.” 

“You have to understand what they’re working for,” Skirata wheedled. “It’s important to them. To all of you. One civilian loss is a low price to pay.”

“Off. Limits.” Alpha bit out sharply. 

The quiet stretched as both sides battled for supremacy. Eventually, Skirata sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. But you know how clever my boys can be when they have an obstacle to get around.”

“Warn them,” Alpha advised, “or you’ll all find out how clever I can be.” 

“None of us are di’kutla enough to underestimate you, Alpha,” Skirata said, sounding a bit amused. “I only wish you’d find your way to working with us instead of against us.”

“Not as long as you’re trying to take out innocent civilians,” Alpha told him, severing the connection before Skirata could respond. 

“Now you,” Alpha said, glancing back over his shoulder. It wasn’t an easy motion to accomplish while wearing full armor and a helmet, so you moved to walk beside him. Just as well - trailing behind him like a lost tooka wasn’t your favorite thing. 

When you were next to him, Alpha removed his helmet and gave you a hard look. “How much do you understand about what just happened?” 

“Not much,” you admitted. “I know those troopers were trying to access Ko Sai’s records, even when I warned them not to. Who are they?” 

“They are known as the Null-class troopers,” Alpha told you slowly. “The first clones of Jango that the Kaminoans ever created.” 

“I thought the Alpha-class troopers were the first.” You were working from the assumption that no part of the conversation was going to offend Alpha, but you studied his expression for any hint of displeasure or hurt. 

“We were the first viable ones,” he explained. “The Nulls were too much like Jango. The Kaminii hadn’t figured out which genes to control for yet. The Null-class didn’t take orders, not to standard. Those six were slated for termination, but Kal Skirata saved them. He had just landed on-planet, a Mando mercenary hired by Jango to train the troopers.”

“Those six?” you echoed. “Were there other Nulls?” 

“There were twelve.” 

You swallowed against the bile that was trying to rise from your twisting stomach. “What happened to the other six?” 

“Embryos weren’t viable,” Alpha said shortly. “They never made it past that point. The six you just met are the only Nulls that ever existed and the only ones who ever will.”

“I… can’t say I’m upset about that,” you admitted.

Alpha huffed a near-silent laugh. “Why did you try to stop them from accessing Ko Sai’s files?” 

“She built a self-destruct trigger into them.” You were satisfied by the look of surprise on Alpha’s face. “Trying an incorrect password destroys all files on the system, and every remote copy that got saved. They didn’t realize their passwords had been locked down while the Kaminoans investigate their internal information.”

“And what was in the records?” he asked, guiding you around a corner with a hand against your back. You drank in the touch like it could sustain you. 

“Genetic information,” you answered. “I was reading it before I left my office. It was all about the way the Kaminoans had altered the Fett gene to create the ideal clone trooper personality. Ko Sai’s words, of course.”

Alpha grunted at that, but didn’t give any other response. 

“Do you think they’ll come back?” you asked after a few moments of silence. 

Alpha glanced sidelong at you. “Not if they know what’s good for them. But that’s why we’re going to your quarters. Better security.” 

You nodded. The two of you were close enough to your room that you didn’t feel the need to make any more conversation. As you entered the code to get into your room, you glanced back at Alpha. He was facing the hallway you had just come from, clearly keeping watch against anyone who might have followed you.

“I just need to brush my teeth, then the ‘fresher is all yours,” you said softly. 

Alpha grunted again, stepping through the door behind you. He worked on the interior panel, setting up additional security measures. There was no such thing as a slice-proof door panel, but those measures would give you some extra time if someone started working to get inside.

You left him to it, brushing your teeth and changing into pajamas before you left the refresher. Alpha had already removed his armor and dimmed the lights, sitting in just his body glove as he waited for the refresher. His leg jiggled with tension. 

As you stepped past each other, Alpha’s fingers rose to stroke down your forearm in a single gentle touch. Then he was inside the refresher and the shower water turned on as you listened. 

You had every intention of being awake when Alpha came back out, but you must have drifted off. The next thing you knew, the bed dipped as Alpha got under the covers behind you. His arm snaked around your torso, pulling you tight against him. You smiled, snuggling a little closer, but frowned. 

Alpha was trembling. 

There was a fine tremor running through his entire body, only perceptible now that you were close enough to feel it. His breathing was slightly irregular, easy enough to note now that you were looking out for it. 

Turning around in his arms wasn’t easy, especially when Alpha’s grip was so tight. But you managed, gently cupping his jaw when you were facing him. It was too dark to see, but the tightness of his jaw muscles under your palm was enough to know what he was feeling. 

“Alpha?” you asked softly. “Are you okay?” 

His breath left him in a shuddering exhale. “Almost lost you, neverd’ika.” 

“Never,” you assured him. “I would have found a way to get free. I wouldn’t leave you like that.” 

He laughed slightly. “You make it sound like a choice.”

“No choice at all,” you countered. “If my choices are between staying with you and letting someone take me away like that… I would have fought like hell.” 

Alpha was quiet, but you could feel the way his lips parted and closed over and over until he decided what he wanted to say. “The fact that you don’t seem concerned is enough to make me worry. Fear isn’t good, but it can keep you alive.” 

“You think I wasn’t scared?” you asked, letting your disbelief come through in your voice. “Alpha, I was terrified. Trem has been a great teacher, but I don’t think there’s much I could have done against six troopers. I think I’m in a bit of shock. When it all hits me, I’ll be a mess for a while.”

“I’ll take care of you if that happens.” 

Alpha’s vow made you smile. “I’ll gladly take you up on that. As long as you let me take care of you now.” 

He inched forward, searching blindly in the darkness until your lips met in a careful kiss. “I have a few ideas about what we could do.”

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Author's Note - There will be a spicy mini chapter to follow this one. Nothing vital to the plot happens in it - you will not miss anything if you choose not to read it. It will be posted on my NSFW alt account. If you don't know where that is, send me a message and I'll give you the username as long as you have 18+ in your bio. If you're under 18 and find it of your own accord, you're claiming to be mature enough to read adult content.

For those who have not read the Republic Commando series, the Null ARCs and Kal Skirata are fascinating characters! You're seeing them at their most ruthless here, but they have a lot of depth. They're on Kamino to complete their own mission, which can make them come off as antagonists, but life is rarely that simple.

My loose plan is to post one chapter every month, but the spicy chapters don't count toward that number. So I'll see you in a week or two for some 'quality time' with Alpha, and next month to see what happens after this!

I'm so glad to be back! Thank you to everyone who waited so patiently or sent words of encouragement. <3 For anyone new to this story, that long of a hiatus is not typical for me. I don't anticipate it happening again.

#gar cyare #gar cyare fic #alpha 17 #star wars #star wars legends #star wars fanfiction #reader insert #reader insert fic #captain alpha 17 #alpha 17 fic #alpha 17 x reader #alpha 17 x you #commander colt #null arcs #kal skirata

[chenfordspiral]

The way they have always looked at each other. Right from the start 🫶🏻

#how they expected us not to ship them is still beyond me #I mean just look at them #precious little beans #chenford #the rookie #lucy x tim #tim x lucy #chenfordedit #chenford edit #mychenfordedits #1x19

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: They sing going to war

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

While serving alongside the human forces during the Torus Campaign I learned much of their strange culture.

Their need to stack foods in elaborate combinations which they call a “Sandwich”, their constant need to play “The Game” without ever explaining what it is unless to tell you that you have lost it, and even their obsession with petting anything within arm’s reach with an almost religious like dedication; but the strangest custom I only witnessed during the final stages of the war.

We had just deployed over the world of Obidon III and were launching a joint ground assault with the human forces. Enemy resistance was expected to be heavy and many would not survive the drop, but command believed that if enough forces reached the surface of the planet they could establish a beachhead and allow the rest of the contingent to be brought in.

During the decent to the planet all I could do was keep my eyes closed and hope beyond hope that we would survive. I was so lost in this trance like state that my friend Septem had to physically smack me on the helmet to get my attention and tell me to turn my radio channel to frequency 13.

I was confused at first since that frequency was being used for our human allies but he insisted that I would not believe what they were doing. So I reset my radio in my helmet to frequency and what I heard was something I had never expected on a battlefield.

They were singing.

The frequency was chalk full of voices in such volume that I had to turn down the volume but it seemed like every single human that was part of the attach was joining in the song. My translator unit was trying to keep up but the sheer intensity of the humans singing was causing it to drop in and out, picking up every other word.

I wanted to listen closer to them but the enemy flak began pounding the outside of our dropship. Each detonation sent the ship rattling side to side violently. I had just retightened my straps when a shell burst just beneath us sending a shockwave through the ship so strong it sent several of my comrades flying from their seats into the opposite wall. They hit the wall hard and did not get back up when their bodies collapsed to the ground.

All I could think about was how this was the moment I was going to die. This was the moment my existence in this universe comes to its conclusion and I return to the dust and atoms of the cosmos. And as I tuned myself to this reality all I could hear were the humans still singing over the radio.

They must have been going through the same amount of enemy fire as he was and yet still they somehow were still able to sing as if nothing was wrong with the world. I got so focused on their singing that I forgot about my worries for such a time that I was startled when the dropship landed with a loud thud against the planet’s surface and the boarding ramp lowered.

The following battle was a grueling six hour run and gun with the enemy as we tried to carve out a safe LZ for reinforcements. I got separated from my unit on more than one occasion and wandered into the human designated areas in the confusion.

To my utter surprise the humans were still singing.

Clad in their blue and gold armor, they broadcasted their voices from their helmet speakers as they advanced street by bloody street. One of them took shelter with me for a time as we prepared to rush a fortified courtyard which housed heavy anti air emplacement. I nodded a greeting to the human who replied in kind, yet their voice never ceased in song. I saw them rush around the corner and take several heavy rounds to their chest, but the shells ricocheted off the armor leaving only scratches on the paint.

I watched in disbelief as this wild singing human leaped over the barricade and slapped a detonation charge on the anti-air weapon before leaping back as it exploded the weapon. They stood in the smoldering flames to take a moment to catch their breath when a sniper’s round from down the street struck them in the head and blew out a large portion of their cranium. It was the first time during the entire battle I had seen a human die but I did not have long to contemplate it as the rest of the humans charged past, still singing, in the direction of the snipers shot.

Another hour of combat and the landing site was finally secured and reinforcements were brought in to take our positions. What was left of the initial landing force were sent back to orbit and recover and regroup from their losses. Out of my people’s forces I was one of twenty soldiers to have survived. I imagined the humans had lost equally as many until the pilot remarked that additional shuttles had been dispatched to carry their force back up. It seemed that despite the intensity of the fighting only three of their warriors had fallen in battle; one of them including the warrior I had watched fall.

I was beyond myself.

These reckless warriors had somehow survived one of the most intense battles the campaign had seen and only lost three of their number.

Once back on the ship the first chance I could I sought them out for an explanation. They were quartered in the lower reaches of the ship, isolated from the other contingents onboard.

Outside their area were two guards still in full armor that initially would not let me through until one of them recognized me from the fighting in the city. I was then led inside and found many of the humans feasting and laughing. Two long rows of had been setup facing each other; between them were several fires, each with a different animal being roasted over them. At the end of the rows stood three large pyres of wood which held three bodies atop each of them.

As I passed through the humans many ceased their laughter and looked at me, their eyes with suspicion. We made it half way through the throngs when a giant of a human stepped forward and blocked our path. They demanded to know why I had been let it in; going even further to say they will throw me out personally if the answer was not good. The guard who had recognized me said I had witnessed the last moments of one of the fallen and would speak of their deeds. There was a long pause as the large human glared at me, his eyes as cold as the crescent moon of my homeworld.

The human finally relented and let out a loud boastful laugh, clapping me on my shoulders and welcoming me to the feast. Those gathered around cheered and similarly welcomed me now as the ceremony proceeded once more. I could barely say anything as I was seemingly pulled into the celebration. I drank, I ate, I laughed, I even boasted of my own achievements during the battle.

At the height of the feast I was called forward to speak of the final moments of the human soldier I watched die. I learned their name had been Moris Yu, and had served in the human contingent since the beginning of the campaign. I spoke of his final moments, of how he charged the enemy alone and had single handedly destroyed their war machine. I spoke of the snipers bullet laying him low to which all the gathered humans spoke as one “To Odin’s hall he flies.”

With that pyres were set on fire and the bodies slowly turned to ash. I imagine it had some significant ritualistic meaning in human culture but it was beyond me.

After the funeral I asked one of the soldiers the question I had come to them with.

“Why do you sing in battle?”

The human took a long huff from a wooden pipe and blew a cloud of smoke before answering.

“Long ago, my people were raiders and conquerors of the sea.” They began, “Our gods watched over us and should we prove worthy we would be sent to them to join them in their halls and fight alongside them for eternity.”

“There was one warband led by a giant of a man called Osmond Frig. He loved song just as much as he loved fighting, so he made his warriors sing during every fight as it made him happy.”

“They agreed to such silliness?” I asked, to which the human grinned.

“They did after he felled the first three men who laughed at him with a single blow from his axe.” They finished before continuing with their story.

“What was truly surprising was not the sight of these warriors singing, but rather the fact that they were rather good at it. It was said they could make the Valkyries themselves shed a single tear with their songs.”

“Eventually one of the gods, Bragi, noticed Osmond’s warband and took a liking to them. Much like the Valkyries he too was moved by their song and decided to reward them with his patronage. He used ancient magic and made it so as long as the warriors sung they would be impervious to harm of all kinds.”

“So the warband grew in fame and glory as they went conquest to conquest, emerging from battles against impossible odds with nay a scratch on them. First across the northern seas, then across the continent of Europe, and then soon the entire world knew of Osmond; which is when they finally drew the attention of the king of the gods, Odin.”

“Odin watched these powerful warriors and wanted them in his hall for the eternal battle, yet despite every challenge they faced they emerged victorious. No matter what enemy Odin placed in their path or scheme he unleashed on them they refused to fall. Odin knew of Bragi’s patronage and tortured the god to reveal his secret and after seven days and seven nights Bragi told Odin of the spell he had cast and how it could not be undone.”

“But that was all Odin needed to secure his warriors.” The human said with a devil’s grin.

“During the midst of the most recent battle Odin took the form of a mighty warrior and stalked the fields for his prey. He waited for each warrior to catch their breath and cease their song before striking and slaying them, one by one. By day’s end only Osmond remained to fight Odin and though he sang long into the night he too eventually gasped for air and was slain.”

“So that is why you sing?” I asked the human. ‘Because you believe your gods will protect you?”

The human chuckled and nodded to the three pyres. “Did you not say that Moris was only slain after he ceased singing?”

I wanted to counter him with some logic, some reason grounded in reality, but I could not. I left that human area with a profound new perspective of myself in the grand scheme of the universe.

The next time I was in a combat drop my comrades laughed when I began singing. I wasn’t sure if it was good or not, but I hoped that in some way the human god would at least find me amusing and let me live another day.

#humans are insane #humans are weird #humans are space oddities #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #odin #bragi #norse mythology

[wandasaura]

MY FACE IN A RED FLUSH

summary — your first mistake was thinking natasha wouldn’t use the time away to tease you, your second mistake was thinking you could handle it

warning(s) — established relationship, married wandanat, smut, sexting, phone sex, teasing, fingering, nipple stimulation, degradation, praise, daddy kink, dom/sub relationship, bathroom encounter (nothing like… bad bad), begging, threats of punishment, wanda slaps r’s ass ;), the idiots banter but what’s new

authors note — i got carried away with this but hey, we got some development between wanda and r going on at least, also some insight to wandanats relationship and their dynamic + how the contract came about

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha was going to be gone on business for two full weeks. You’d expected the hardest part of that fact to be how you were sure to miss her, but you were severely mistaken. When day ten came around, and she still wasn’t home, you weren’t at all surprised to find that the several notifications waiting for your attention were all from her. She’d been doing her best to keep you informed in regards to her plans and meetings, and for the most part, she’d been behaving herself well, but the first glance at her messages had effortlessly set your mood for the remainder of the day. 

Natasha | Daddy misses you, angel. 

Natasha | I bet that sweet pussy misses me too. 

Natasha | image attached 

You couldn’t help but audibly groan when you opened your iMessages. It was instinctual, you never wanted to leave her messages unanswered, but you regretted your urgency to appease her the second you came face to face with her visibly damp panties and toned thighs that had acquired quite the tan since shipping off to the tropical island just over a week and a bit ago. The deep red material that you were all too familiar with was an even deeper shade of maroon now, so damp that it molded to the shape of her labia, and the bulge of her clitoris was captivating. A throb shot through your own core as you fantasized about taking care of her little situation with your mouth, tonguing at her panties until she got so annoyed with your teasing that she tore them in two and forced your head in close, but she was a thousand miles away, and you were under strict instructions not to touch yourself without her permission. 

For a second, you questioned if Wanda had received the same image. If she had, which you were absolutely certain she did, you knew that the lawyer was rightfully hot and bothered, but you doubted she had the same rules as you. Wanda did not seem the type to submit, even if it meant appeasing her wife. After all, there would be no need for you in their relationship if she allowed Natasha to take the reins every once in a while, and you found yourself envious of the woman who could relieve herself at any chance. 

You whined at the deep ache in your core, your panties positively ruined beyond a point of salvation when another image rolled through, though this time, she’d taken away your privilege of seeing her well defined lips and clit, however, she’d replaced what you’d lost with the sight of her hand buried in the material. It was her left hand, and the diamond on the center of her engagement ring pressed against the tight materials of her panties. You’d always found it exceptionally hot to be fucking a married woman with consent from her partner, but something about seeing her touch herself with the very hand that Wanda had kissed with adoration in front of all of their family and friends was truly vulgar. She wasn’t playing fair at all, but you suspected she had never intended to make this easy for you. 

You | Daddy

It was a simple response, one that in no way encapsulated the millions of scenarios running through your head, but you had no other words to share with her. Not when you’d only just woken up and your sole interest was devouring her. You’d never been particularly good at communication, especially not when it came to sexual circumstances, but god did Natasha love to make you work for it. It shouldn’t have come as any surprise to you that she would pull a stunt like this, but you supposed your naivety was what captivated her so ferociously. 

Natasha | Yes, angel? See something you like?

You | You. 

You | Daddy, please. 

Natasha | Please, what? Don’t you have a class to get to, I wouldn’t want to make you late. Get ready for school, moya lyubov. 

Natasha | image attached

She was really playing dirty now. The unspoken promise that you wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself felt like pure torture, but that had only worsened the blow for when the next picture rolled in seconds later. You’d half expected it to follow the saga of the others; some kind of display in regards to her dripping core and drenched panties. Would she pull them off to the side and bury two or maybe even three fingers into her pleading hole? Or perhaps she would take them off completely and give you an unconstructed glimpse of her cunt. You had been good afterall, Wanda hadn’t relayed any instances of bratty behavior to your knowledge, so she had every reason to reward you. Clearly she was not feeling generous, because the picture you were confronted with at seven o’six in the morning was of her naked chest, and just slightly off-screen you could make out the straps of her favorite lacy red bra. Her nipples were pebbled, undoubtable from the combination of her arousal and the broken thermostat in her suite, and they were a color that attempted to resemble a pinky-mauve. Her manicured fingers pinched at the left bud, but her right remained untouched and begging for the same attention. Her back was arched, leaning into the pain, and while you couldn’t see her shoulders, you could image the tanlines that graced her unblemished skin. 

You | You’re not playing fair, Daddy

Natasha | I don’t have to play fair, malyshka. I suggest you start getting ready for class, and I would think twice about trying to touch yourself before I give you permission. 

Your lips, already in a pout, had seemed to turn even more downward at her blatant disregard for your sanity. You’d just barely survived nine days without her touch and now, on the tenth, she decided to make that worse by teasing you? Even if she did decide to give you permission, nobody, including you, could make you cum the way she did. It would be foolish to even try and compete with her skills. 

You | I can always skip 

Natasha | I find out you skipped and you won’t be cumming until summer break 

Your heart plummeted faster than a free falling elevator at the implication of spending the next four and a half weeks without an orgasm, especially because you knew that just because she wouldn’t push you over the edge, didn’t mean she wouldn’t tease you and work you up to that point. She would make your life an absolute living hell if you gave her the chance, and that was not a fire you wanted to play with, not now and not ever. 

You | I’m going! 

Natasha | That’s what I thought. Good girl. 

Begrudgingly you pulled yourself out of bed and shuffled over to your duffle bag of clothes in the corner of the room. Ever since the night of the sixth day, when you’d crashed into Wanda’s arms and ratted out your professor, you’d been sleeping at the Maximoff residence. The Sokovian lawyer didn’t seem to be minding your presence, or at least, she hadn’t told you that she minded, but you still tried your best to tiptoe around her. She was always up before you, always in the kitchen when you ventured down the stairs in an outfit that was progressively getting shorter and shorter as the weather warmed. She had breakfast waiting for you most days, and if she didn’t, there was a note on the countertops that said she was already at the office and hadn’t wanted you to eat cold food. She didn’t need to know that on those days, you didn’t have any breakfast at all. On the morning of the eighth, she learned that you hate oatmeal. You’d tried your best to eat it all, or at least an amount that would appease her, but after you gagged for the third time, she pulled the bowl away from your face and scolded you for not saying something the second she put it down in front of you. It was weird. Neither one of you really sought the other out, but when you did cross paths, the atmosphere wasn’t as cold and dark. 

It wasn’t as warm as it had been in recent days, so you took full advantage of the wind and the gloomy skies to wiggle your body into a pair of black leggings and one of Natasha’s hoodies that had been left laying around. You adored the start of spring and the mid-summer warmth, but you detested the fact that when those days came, you wouldn’t get to wear the womens clothes as frequently. You supposed you could always steal some of her t-shirts, but there hadn’t been much opportunity to do so yet. 

Wanda was in the kitchen that morning, much to your delight. She wasn’t Natasha, you don’t know if she’ll ever mean as much to you as Natasha does, but you liked the simple fact that the house felt lived in when she was around. Her presence served as a distraction from the icky wetness collecting in your panties, and yes, you had changed them only minutes ago, but nothing could stop the floodgates until Natasha allowed you even the slightest fraction of relief.  

“Your wife is mean.” You didn’t bother with pleasantries, didn’t even bother to look her in the eye as you walked your way to her fridge and pulled out the pitcher of orange juice. It had become sort of a routine. Wanda made breakfast for the both of you and you got the drinks. You liked having little responsibilities, because even if you knew that you were more than welcome here, you felt the need to earn your keep. 

“My wife, huh? Thought she was your Daddy.” Wanda snorted, but the clench in her jaw was enough of an indication that she had received the same messages and wasn’t completely lost on the reason why you were pawning Natasha off so easily. You were annoyed to find that she was handling the teasing better than you. You were absolutely certain that your entire body was as jagged as a sharp rock, and petulantly, you hoped that Natasha stubbed her toe on the way to her next meeting. 

“Nope. You can have her. She’s being a tease.” You huffed, bracing your hands on the edge of the counter before you scooted back into a comfortable position against the floating cabinets. Well, as comfortably as possible with the ache between your thighs that you were trying your absolute hardest not to mess with, even though it would be so easy to cross your legs and hope to god that it did something to relieve you. Wanda seemed to appreciate your restraint, because she sent you a soft smile in return and didn’t say anything about you sitting on her counters. 

“Oh, I know.” Wanda puffed out a breath of air, the first indication that maybe she wasn’t handling the situation well, just better at hiding her frustration. “Little brat doesn’t know what to do with herself when she’s away for so long.” 

You’d never heard Natasha be called anything of the sort, and the admission of her role in the bedroom had brought back your curiosity. Deciding that you couldn’t possibly get in trouble for being curious, you kicked your feet against the cabinets beneath your dangling legs and looked over at Wanda. “Can I ask you a question?” 

“If you stop kicking my cabinets.” The lawyer looked at you in exasperation, entirely unimpressed with your fidgeting, though she wasn’t angry. You were thankful for that, because the combination of academic stress and sexual teasing had you restless in all fronts. 

“Do you let Natty top you?” You smiled shyly once the words had passed your lips, hoping that it would soften the blow once Wanda processed your question. You weren’t sure if you had a close enough relationship with her to be asking such a thing, but over the last few weeks, you’d really started to wonder how they’d even come to the consensus of opening their relationship to a third party. 

Wanda looked at you incredulously, but she shook her head anyway. “No. Why the question? You’re usually running in the opposite direction anytime we ask you something sexual.” 

As if your body was trying to prove a point, your cheeks flushed scarlet and you dropped your gaze down to your lap, eliciting a chuckle out of Wanda. “I dunno. You don’t seem the type to submit, and Natty is being a brat. Guess I was just wondering about the contract. How you came up with it and all.” 

“Have you talked to Nat about this? Seems you’ve got a lot on your mind.” Wanda hummed, her attention focused on the eggs she was scrambling, though you knew the real reason she was so focused was because she didn’t want to overwhelm you when you had finally gotten the courage to speak to her about this type of thing. She wasn’t wrong. Any other time she’d ever mentioned your sexual relationship with her wife you ran in the other direction, or you retorted with something rude just to get her off your back. She wasn’t as blind to that last detail as you thought she was. 

“Not a lot.” You protested immediately, not wanting it to come across like you were rethinking this situation. “Her ring was… very visible in the second picture she sent. You’re married. Very happily from what I’ve seen. If anyone else that I know were in this situation, they’d think I was a homewrecker or something.” 

“Is that how you feel?” Wanda frowned, her attention still on the eggs she was scrambling, but she was quickly running out of alternatives to focus on as they reached they perfect consistency. 

“No! Nat’s too in love with you to ever do something that would upset you. If you weren’t okay with her… using me… then she would’ve ended things already.” 

“Honey, we both know Natasha is not using you. That woman is just as devoted to you as she is to me, but you’re right, she wouldn’t jeopardize our marriage. The contract was my idea. You were my idea. Natasha would be more than happy to submit to me for the rest of our lives if I wasn’t okay with this, but I know that she needs the control as much as I do. We make sacrifices for our partners every day. A marriage is not a one way street.” Wanda smiled softly, nudging your thigh when she realized you were sitting right in front of the cabinet she kept the plates on. 

“Why are you okay with me then?” You frowned, having even more questions now then you originally did. Wanda had said that Natasha was devoted to you in the same way she is with Wanda. Does that mean she feels the same as you do? Are your feelings not as unrequited as you’d been forcing yourself to believe? 

“You make her happy.” There was something more on the tip of her tongue, something heavy and potentially earth-shattering, but you didn’t press her to share. She was already sharing more than enough with you, and you appreciated her honesty even if it was filtered. “Anymore questions from the peanut gallery, or can we eat our breakfast before you’re late to class?” 

“No more questions.” You hopped off the counter, grinning cheekily when you saw Wanda wince out of your peripheral vision. “Would you tell her if I skipped class?” 

“Are you sick?” Wanda quirked a single eyebrow in your direction, her hands full of plates as she carried eggs and pancakes toward the dining room table. You grabbed the pitcher of juice and two glasses, following her like a lost duckling despite knowing your way around. 

“Does horny count as sick?” You asked, only receiving a huff of laughter and a firm shake of the head as a response. 

-

If you thought your morning had been difficult to handle, your afternoon was even worse. You shifted uncomfortably at your desk, trying to get your cold and sticky panties away from your sensitive core, while simultaneously listening to your professor drone on and on about sentence translations and truth tables. Everytime you moved, you achieved the exact opposite of what you wanted. Your panties were so wet they clung to your pussy, and with each shift of hips and press of your thighs, a pulse of pleasure shot up through your belly and only worsened your situation. 

Typically, you sat in the very front row in all of your lectures. You were what others would call a teacher's pet, always raising your hand and answering questions, always assuring that you understood the objectives of an assignment, but today, you had chosen a desk in the back row closest to the wall. Your laptop was turned away from the student on your right, and although your notes were opened, and words had been added to the document that you’d started at the beginning of the semester, your iMessages were open just beside it. 

Natasha | Daddy wants your mouth, princess. You’d be good and give me your mouth wouldn’t you? I know how much you love to be on your knees for me 

Natasha | video attached 

You knew you shouldn’t open it, not when it was so clearly a video of her masturbating if the preview shot was any indication of its content. You knew you should just turn all of your devices on Do Not Disturb and focus on the professor, who was going over questions about the latest chapter assigned as homework, but all logical thoughts, ironic because you were currently in your advanced logics lecture, had completely fallen away from you. It had been eleven hours of teasing. Eleven hours of wet panties and sensitive nipples and Natasha’s pussy in your face but not actually. It had been eleven full hours of pure torture, and you were at your breaking point.

You closed your laptop softly, making the humbling decision to shuffle past all the other students in your row to excuse yourself to the bathroom. You’re sure it looked like you were having some kind of female emergency with how fast you were moving, but in a way, you were. Only, it wasn’t a result of a miscalculated period, but rather an evil dominant who had worked you up so horridly that you were willing to sacrifice your academics just to beg her for release. 

The private bathroom was located in the basement, you had to shuffle down three flights of stairs just to reach it, but you would die before you got caught sexting in the bathroom on the same floor as your lecture, so you hurried down to the basement and hoped that it was free. At least some higher power was looking out for you, because you found that the light was off and when you knocked on the door, nobody had answered. You squirmed your way inside, locking the door before you pulled open your messages and played the video. 

It was short, only ten seconds, but in that ten seconds you had seen the beginning of a beautiful orgasm. Natasha’s fingers hammered into her pussy, the palm of her hand making contact with her clit every time she pushed three of her fingers back into herself. Her arousal coated the digits in thick strings, and when she’d cum, when she pushed herself over the edge, you groaned aloud at not only the moan that tumbled past her lips, but the sight of her orgasm spilling around her fingers. You had seen Natasha squirt on a handful of occasions. Usually it happened when she had you eating her out time and time again. You wondered how long she’d been laid in bed for to have reached such a high, and briefly you wondered if Wanda had anything to do with it. There was not a doubt in your mind that Wanda was just as much a tease as Natasha, and the prospect of the most powerful women you know going back and forth so desperately caused another violent pang of pleasure to shoot through your core. 

You pushed your pants down, letting them scrunch together at your ankles, not caring about how they brushed against the bathroom floor. You were too desperate to mind the germs, but they would be going in the garbage the second you got back to the Maximoff residence. For now, they’d just have to be fine. 

You widened your stance just enough to get your camera between your thighs. The baby blue panties that you wore were absolutely drenched, beyond the state of Natasha’s if that were even possible. Every inch of your intimacy was a visible outline from how they pressed against you, and while you should’ve been embarrassed, you hadn’t even been touched and you were the wettest you’ve probably ever been, you didn’t care. 

You | image attached 

You | Look what you did, Daddy. 

Natasha | Oh, I bet that feels so icky, baby 

You | Please let me touch myself 

Natasha | My dirty little slut wants to touch herself in a public bathroom? She can’t even wait until she gets home? 

You | I’ve been waiting all day! Please Daddy, it aches! 

You | image attached 

You should’ve felt shame. You should’ve been disgusted with your desperation, but there wasn’t even an ounce of care left in you as you pulled your panties to the side. Two of your fingers swept through your folds, collecting arousal on the tips of your fingers. They glistened in the light, and much like Natasha’s arousal had done in the video she sent, strings of your need attached your dripping cunt to your digits. You hadn’t touched yourself, not technically at least. Your clit throbbed in protest when you narrowly avoided it, and it took all of your self restraint not to throw caution to the wind and give yourself the slightest bit of relief. You would much rather appease Natasha though, and so you hadn’t even made the briefest moment of contact. 

Natasha | Oh that does look like quite the sticky situation, baby. Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy and suck those fingers clean 

You moaned at her words, even if they were just white letters on your phone screen. You could practically hear her voice in your head, requesting you to taste yourself for her, asking you to be good. You complied without hesitance, bringing your fingers up to your mouth, your tongue out and waiting for the treat even if you would much rather it be her you're tasting. Before you let them lay heavy on your tongue, you took a picture and sent it to her, because if you were going to be vulgar in your college bathroom, it needed to be for something. You tasted how you always do, but you forced yourself to imagine it was her lips you were tasting and not your own fingers. She loved making out after she had gone down on you, and secretly, so did you. 

Natasha | Good girl. 

Natasha | Those fingers all nice and clean? 

You | Yes, Daddy

Natasha | Good. Pull your panties back up and wash your hands, baby. You’ve still got thirty minutes left of class. 

Your jaw practically hit the floor at her response, and you whined in defeat, not wanting to listen to her. You’d been so good for her all day and she was still making you wait? What could she possibly do from across the ocean anyways? Briefly, you’d forgotten about her promise of withholding orgasms until summer break, but when that threat came back to mind, you quickly did as asked, hating that now you were even more uncomfortable. This was supposed to help, not make everything worse. 

You | I want to play, Daddy!

Natasha | You’ve been good all day baby, don’t ruin it now. Panties up, hands washed. I want you back in class in the next three minutes if I’m even going to consider letting you edge yourself tonight 

Natasha | Or maybe you would like a ruined orgasm more

You | No! Please no Daddy! 

Natasha | Then you’ll go back to class and you won’t sneak away again. 

- 

The forty minute drive back to Westview felt like hours. By the time that you eventually pulled into the driveway and parked behind Natasha’s car, the days sunlight only lingering behind storm clouds now, your leggings were damp and clinging to your core just as uncomfortably as your panties had been for the last few hours. You were absolutely certain that if there weren’t two material barriers between your legs, that your car seats would be stained with evidence of your arousal. You’d have had a hard time explaining that the next time you got the vehicle detailed, but if that had been the case, you would’ve just burnt the entire car to avoid the looks of judgment you were sure to have received. 

The front door was unlocked when you entered, an indication that Wanda had only arrived home a couple minutes before you had. Ever since your appearance on the fifth day of Natasha’s absence, she’d started leaving the door unlocked for you, not wanting another repeat of you stuck outside. You knew it made her feel vulnerable, and at one point you had tried to tell that while you appreciated the thought, she could continue to lock the door after she got in. Wanda didn’t budge on the matter, not that you were surprised, and so you just had to accept the fact that the front door would remain open for anyone to pass through until you got inside to lock the house up tight. It amazed you how Natasha’s presence could mean so much. The woman could hold her own in a fight, you didn’t doubt that, but you hadn’t realized just how much Wanda put her safety into her hands. It only further solidified the already known fact that they were perfect for each other. 

Wanda was in the kitchen, already working on dinner, when you dropped your backpack on the floor and inched your way closer to her. The desperate ache between your legs was unbearable now, and every step reminded you of your unfulfilled desire. Wanda looked perfectly put together as she stood by the stove, stirring something in a pot that you hoped was sauce for her spaghetti. Even though you couldn’t see her face from where she was standing, it was clear in her posture that she was fairing well with Natasha’s teasing. You wondered if she had taken her pleasure into her own hands at some point during the day, or if she was once again just better than you at concealing her true feelings. 

“I take it back.” You muttered weakly, stealing the glass of water that the redhead had been just about to reach for. It was cold, probably fresh from the filter in the fridge, and you gulped it down greedily. “Your wife is the scary one.” 

Wanda laughed although you found nothing funny about this situation. “What did she threaten you with?” 

“Which time!” You threw your hands out in exasperation, careful to keep hold of the now empty glass so it didn’t smash into a million tiny shards on the floor if you were to lose your grip on it. “Because at first it was no orgasms until summer break! Then it was edging! And then it was ruined orgasms! I did exactly what she asked, and she’s still being all scary and mean! She sent me a video of her cumming while I was in class!”

“Did she now?” Wanda quirked a single brow in your direction, and you knew that you had gotten your dominant in trouble simply from the way her jaw clenched at the relay of information. In the months that you’ve been in this situation with Natasha, you learned that Wanda was serious about education, a real stickler even. She always droned on and on about the importance of paying attention and taking adequate notes, you should’ve known that she wouldn’t appreciate knowing her wife had distracted you with a video of her pleasure. 

“Um, no?” You tried to backtrack, tried to save Natasha’s ass even though she had done nothing in your favor since you’d woken up that morning. Your cheeks flushed as you avoided her eye, suddenly finding the floor much more interesting than her stare. 

“Wanna try that again?” Wanda hummed, but you knew it wasn’t really a choice. You’re pretty sure that you audibly gulped as you contemplated your options, ultimately deciding that if anybody's ass had to be on the line, you would rather it be Natashas. 

“She did.” You whispered. “But she made me go back to class! That’s when she threatened to make me edge myself or ruin my orgasm.” You added, your cheeks burning a fierce shade of red as you avoided Wanda’s eye. Both women found it cute how flushed you still got whenever anything even remotely kinky was discussed. Despite her annoyance, this moment was no exception.

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, nodding her head as if Natasha’s threat satisfied her. “Good. You shouldn’t have left class at all. I’d be making you spank yourself.”

“I– Do you– Do you make Natasha spank herself?” You spluttered over your words, hardly even able to imagine the redhead on the receiving end of a spanking.  

“No. Your Daddy enjoys that far too much.” Wanda laughed, almost as if she found your curiosity insulting to Natasha. You knew she had a pain kink, that was very much obvious when she asked you to pinch her nipples harder on the rare occasion that she made you ride her strap, but you couldn’t imagine enjoying a spanking that was intended to be a punishment. “You on the other hand, start running away from her hand by the fifth spank. You wouldn’t last three if I told you to do it yourself.” 

Despite your mortification at Wanda’s admission, a pang of arousal shot through your core at the thought of receiving a spanking, especially from her. You were quick to scrub that fantasy from your brain, not even wanting to entertain it. Even if you had moved past your hatred for her, you refused to admit that she was slowly growing on you. That was just too much to accept right now. 

“Stop!” You whined, hunching over the counter and attempting to hide your face against the cold counter. Your cheeks had had a permanent flush to them all day, no thanks to Natasha, but you were certain that they were fire engine red now. Even the tips of your ears carried a warmth that wouldn’t vanish until you found some relief, but Natasha had been radio silent since sending you back to class, and you almost wondered if she would even reappear again before she turned in for the night. You would kill her if she left you high and dry like this. 

A shriek of surprise left your lips at the sharp sensation that spread through your left ass cheek when Wanda’s palm collided with it over the thin fabric of your leggings. You’d only barely managed to contain your moan, but there’s no way she’d missed the way your knees threatened to buckle beneath you. Your back straightened instinctively and your head whipped around to find her, only to groan at the smirk of satisfaction on her lips at the sight of you. Your bottom lip was caught between your teeth, your eyes were dilated and almost entirely black, and your thighs, oh your thighs were the most telling. You pinched them together desperately, attempting to find any semblance of release. 

“What was that for?” You whined, your hand shooting back to rub at the spot that was beginning to ache. You wouldn’t be surprised if her handprint lingered on your skin well into the early hours of tomorrow morning. Your voice is painfully high pitched and needy despite your best efforts to keep your composure, and it merely makes Wanda laugh about the effect a simple spank has on you. 

“Who said I needed a reason?” Wanda shrugged her shoulders, but there was something wicked in her eyes. “You’ve had plenty of questions for me today, who says I don’t have my own?” 

“You could’ve just asked!” You stomped your foot, officially at your breaking point with their combined teasing. Your eyes glimmered with unbridled tears, and your core throbbed needily, but neither of them seemed too concerned with your desperation, not enough to stop at least. “I’m going to change.” You pouted, stomping past Wanda, abandoning your backpack to be dealt with later. 

-

Hours later, you found yourself laid in bed, your eyes wide in disbelief as you laid on your back and tried your hardest to keep your hands still at your sides. You and Wanda had eaten dinner in near silence, but the spaghetti was good, and you’d helped with the dishes afterward. Neither of you were feeling rather talkative, and that could be chalked up with the fact that Natasha had started her shit again. She poked at Wanda first, and you were thankful for the break of being her center of attention. The lawyer's phone had buzzed from where it was kept in her backpocket during meals if she was wearing jeans. Both of you knew who it was, and Wanda had reached for her phone without a moment of hesitation. It seemed that the both of you were properly whipped for the Russian, because had that text been from anyone else Wanda would’ve ignored it until dinner was over and conversations were finished. It had taken her only a matter of seconds to get into her phone, and you knew it must’ve been sexual based on the way her cheeks flushed and she furiously typed back a response. You were curious about what Natasha had sent her, curious about if you were receiving the same messages throughout the day, but you didn’t have to wait for much longer because your phone pinged next, and Wanda shot you a low warning beneath her breath. 

That had been two hours ago, and since then, Natasha had disappeared, leaving you with only strict orders not to touch yourself and the lingering promise of getting your reward soon. You were naked in the guest bed, dripping onto the sheets beneath your body, writhing in anticipation. The house had been silent since both you and Wanda finished dinner, but now the house was filled with her moans. Her moans. Wanda's moans. You’ve seen her and Natasha makeout before. You’ve heard her shakily exhale, groan aloud, you’ve even heard her curse out profanities in Russian when Natasha did something particularly seductive, but you’ve never heard her moan. That felt too intimate, too wrong, but now that you were hearing them you couldn’t deny how sweet they sounded. Was she fingering herself? Was she using a vibrator or fucking a dildo so deep into her pussy that she could feel every groove and crevice against her walls? Were the sheets wet with arousal beneath her body like they were yours, or could she somehow manage to avoid leaking like a waterfall at just a whisper of praise from Natasha? The list of endless possibilities that could be occurring in the room next to yours were driving you mad, and the longer you were forced to listen to her chase her release, only amplified the cravings for your own pleasure. 

You blindly reached out for your phone, squinting when it initially blinded you before your eyes adjusted to the light. You opened Natasha’s contact quickly,ready to plead and beg and cry for her to give in. 

You | I can hear Wanda 

You | Please Daddy, can I touch myself? I’ve been so good, please 

Natasha | Aw, is hearing Wanda moan turning you on, princess? 

You | Yes! Please Daddy! I want to cum, please! 

You almost sobbed in relief when your screen flashed with Natasha’s contact picture, and you didn’t hesitate to raise the phone to your ear after you had swiped to accept the call. Her gravely voice was soft, too soft, soft enough to suggest that she knew damn well how frustrated and desperate you were for her, and that she was simultaneously aware of how it was all her fault. You thought for a second that she felt bad for being so cruel, but there was a lingering trace of smugness in her voice that completely went against your first assumption. 

“Hi, baby.” She greeted you sweetly. You noticed that the wind was blowing past her as she spoke to you. You wondered if she was on the beach, surrounded by strangers and business partners, or if she was simply out on the balcony attached to her suite. Wherever she was, you wished that you were with her. 

“Daddy!” You sobbed, both because you had missed her voice in the last three days, and because knowing you finally had her undivided attention had worsened the moisture collecting between your legs. “Please Daddy!” 

“What do you want, baby? Use your words for Daddy.” Natasha cooed, and you fisted the sheets at your sides in frustration, writhing on the bed. 

The words tumbled past your lips without care for how you sounded. You knew Wanda could hear you from the master bedroom, but you had not a single care for your dignity as you pleaded with your dominant to let you cum. “Please! Please can I touch myself! Please!” 

“You wanna touch yourself, dorogay?” Natasha hummed, and although she couldn’t see you, you violently nodded your head in affirmation. Your babbled pleads were enough of an answer, because seconds later she was directing you to pinch your nipples for her. Despite not being the stimulation you desperately needed, you would take it, and you rolled your pebbled buds between your pointer finger and thumb needily. “Good girl, milaya. You sound so pretty for Daddy. I bet that sweet pussy is just begging for attention, isn’t it? Are you all wet, precious?” 

“Yes! Yes! Daddy please! I’m so wet! I can’t– I need– Daddy please don’t tease! Don’t tease!” You sobbed out, your back arching off the bed as you continued to alternate between your nipples and pinch and twist them at the pace you know Natasha would’ve set if she was here to do it herself. 

“Shh, shh, you’re okay. Daddy teased you all day, didn’t she?” Natasha’s voice was thick with faux pity, and her tone only worked against you as you clambered to draw in a decent breath of air whilst also focusing on her instructions. 

“Yes! Yes! Please! Please! Daddy, I can’t–, I can’t–, please!” 

“Okay baby, okay. You’re being such a good girl for me, detka. Touch your pussy baby. Not your clit, not yet. Just use your fingers, how many do you want, sweet girl? Do you want two? Two fingers in that pretty pussy?” Natasha gently guided you through the motions, and you cried out in relief when you felt the stretch of your fingers. Your pussy was gushing, crying for attention, but finally you were allowed to grant the wish it had been begging for all day. There was no slowing your pace. The second your fingers had dipped between your thighs, your pace was punishing, and though you still held the phone up to your ear with the hand that wasn’t between your legs, you were sure Natasha could hear the wet sounds that filled the air around you. “Does that feel good, baby? Use your words and tell Daddy how it feels.” 

“G-Good.” You cried out, but even with your fingers working the soft spot within your walls, it wasn’t enough. Your release was just out of reach and the only thing that could send you over the edge was her explicit permission to touch your clit, to finally give the pulsating nerve some love and attention. “D-Daddy please! My clit! M-My clit! Please please please!” Your mindless babbling seemed to have broken her tough reserve, and gently Natasha cooed her approval. 

“Touch your clit for me, baby. You don’t have to ask, you just cum when you want to. You were such a good girl today. Daddy didn’t think you could make it all day, you made me so proud, angel. So so proud. Make yourself cum, cum on your fingers for Daddy.” Natasha didn’t need to see your face to know that you were growing closer and closer to the edge, she could hear it in your moans as they spilled from your lips and down the phone line. “Yeah? You’re getting so close aren’t you, getting so close for Daddy. Cum for me, milaya. Cum for Daddy.” 

“Fuck fuck fuck! Daddy!” You cried, your back arching off the bed as you finally let the coil snap in your belly. Wanda’s moans of pleasure had increased within the same second, and your cheeks flushed realizing that Natasha’s plan all along had been to get the two of you to orgasm in tandem. “Thank you.” You croaked when you finally came down from you high, your body positively spent and your throat sore. 

“You did so good for me, malyshka.” You can hear the smile in her tone, and you melt into the blankets and sheets beneath you as you accept the weight of her words. “You sleepy, baby? You’ve had a long day.” 

“Yeah.” You whispered, hating the fact that you wouldn’t last another handful of minutes before you fell asleep on her. “Go get cleaned up, please. Daddy will be home soon, I can’t wait to see my good girl.” 

“I miss you.” You sighed softly, already starting to pull your body out of bed. You didn’t want to move, but you’d been so good all day, you wanted to make her proud down to the very last second. 

“I miss you too, angel. Wanda’s told me how good you’re being. Daddy has a surprise for you when she gets home.” Natasha promises, and had you been any more awake then you are now, you would’ve begged her to know what she had, but you merely hummed and went through the motions of brushing your teeth, going to the bathroom, and cleaning up your thighs. 

The sheets were the least of your concern, and you collapsed into the center of the bed, not even bothering with clothes as you snuggled into the blankets and let your eyes flutter closed, falling asleep in seconds with Natasha still on the line.

#wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #dom!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff fluff #wandanat #wandanat x reader #dom!wandanat x reader #wandanat smut #wandanat fluff #series: you are in love #minors dni ৎ୭

[alastors-antlers]

Being someone who sees a lot of talk about shipping Alastor (sexually, romantically) in fanworks, I just want to take some time to talk about both sides of the issue. It's long, I know - please, please bear with me until the end, and I hope you'll understand what I mean in a bit.

I hope this helps someone, but as an aroace person who understands the frustration and hurt, this is often how it feels to me:

Alastor, being one of the limited cases of aspec rep that I've seen and one of even fewer which I actually enjoyed, means a lot to me.

That being said, his canon rep establishes that he's aroace but not much about how this factors into his life or relationships at all -- and when there's a gap in canon, I turn to fanfiction, which tends to spotlight characters' queerness even when the source material doesn't or can't. Don't we all want to see ourselves in the media we engage with?

When I pull up AO3, there are already a good number of fics about him. Great! Some of them are definitely incredible; but as I read on, it starts to seem like a lot of fics I see acknowledge that he's asexual or aromantic in some way but don't really factor that into the story. It reads like you could have written the story without keeping his queer identity in mind, and it would've come out the same.

Even when representation that does resonate with me exists, it starts to be exhausting to pick through the slash tags to see which ones are written in an aspec-coded way, so I wonder if it would be easier to not read anything with slash at all. On the other hand, when you filter ships out completely, only a tiny fraction of the fanworks are left.

People often respond that aspec people can have relationships, and I think we tend to know that. They can have sex, some can experience sexual attraction in select situations, they can romance others beyond romantic attraction -- any combination of things. But some aroace people don't want either, and sometimes we're struggling to see ourselves in how Alastor is typically portrayed.

Out of all of the fics, sex-repulsed, totally aromantic Alastor isn't seen much. And when Alastor's limited canon seems to be pretty supportive of a reading where he is those things...

Sometimes, you start to feel lost. If fics were evenly distributed along the aroace spectrum of experiences, wouldn't you expect more fics of him being the "totally uninterested" brand of aroace? But there aren't. People seem to have a preference toward seeing him in relationships. Even if they mean well, it can make you think: what does that say about how we view asexuality/aromanticism as a whole?

Is there something less interesting about Alastor, when romance is taken out of the picture? Do others find him less appealing as a character if they can't see him dating, or in love, or having sex or wanting it? Why do we need romance, when romance is already everywhere else, when it doesn't even feel like he was originally really interested? It brings to mind a struggle to be societally accepted, even today.

Even when it's not technically wrong to write Alastor as you see him, being told that we should all be able to ship him however we want can feel like this:

It brings to mind people who try to swing in with misinformed good intentions, telling us "oh, you're aromantic? but you can still have romantic relationships, right? so you can still be normal." when all we want is to be okay outside of the normal.

Or trying to find a partner who can be with us, out of everyone who tells us "I know you don't enjoy sex, and that's okay, but I can't have a romantic relationship with you without it." and being so tired of hoping for someone who gets it.

Or talking with peers, and hearing them all commiserate and fawn over their experiences with love, then telling them about someone you like non-romantically and getting "aww, it sounds like somebody's got a crush!" but not being believed when you tell them it's not like that at all.

Alastor is not a big deal, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. But in an allonormative world, it can feel like a sudden splash of cold water when we were expecting a warm fire to sit around. Even within this ecosystem, we squint to see ourselves reflected.

Society isn't built for us. It can be exhausting to be reminded of that.

~~~

I hope to support people writing Alastor as any variation of aspec, or not even aspec at all. At the end of the day, I think that fanon is really whatever you want it to be, and everyone has their own reasons for writing what they find enjoyable. They should be allowed to do so, and I want to believe that people do what they do with good intentions.

They want to imagine scenarios with the templates of characters they love, and that's okay; even beyond sexuality/queer identities/etc., fan interpretations of characters can be incredibly, wildly different from who they really are in the story anyway, and that's what I try to remind myself. But still, I also can't help feeling disappointed about the aroace representation we could have seen.

(Is Alastor canonically sex-repulsed? Uhh, maybe. If I had to guess, that'd be my top guess, but this might be a hot take: I wouldn't really say there's enough to go off of considering that this view is supported by Angel propositioning him both times, and it's not like Alastor is a particularly big fan of Angel at those points anyway lol)

To my fellow aroaces struggling with Alastor's fandom rep: if you need a break from it all; if you need to block the tags that you hate; if you need to talk to someone about how you're feeling; that's okay. It makes sense that you'd want more representation in a way that helps you feel seen and validated and less alone. I can't speak for everyone, but I think I get it.

I don't have any solutions for how you're feeling, because sometimes I'm feeling the same way. I understand that you want others to get your position and you have the right to express your feelings, but even if you're correct, often being angry or frustrated won't help change others' minds, so let's try to save our energy and take care of ourselves.

Something that helps me to think about is that even now, asexuality is gaining more visibility. We're gaining support. Real change is happening in the world that's helping incredible amounts of aspec people feel freer to be themselves. And maybe one day, we won't be reaching to protect our scraps of representation.

Let's fight until that day together <3

#seriously I appreciate everyone who's out here posting about alastor I love being in the radio demon fanclub lol #just some thoughts that's all and maybe it'll resonate with others #please let's be patient with each other though it's rough out there already #alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #asexual #aromantic #asexual alastor #aromantic alastor #aroace alastor #alastor hazbin #ace #aro

[physalian]

In Defense of Fanfiction (Or the perfect starting point for your original novel)

Fanfic gets a bad rap pretty much everywhere except Tumblr. It’s misunderstood and misrepresented by its average works, seen as juvenile and cringey, or a banal point of contention between a famous person or piece of media and its fans.

Outside of fanfic that writes about real people, especially smut fics of real people, I support the art wholeheartedly. Fictional characters are one thing, but personally, caricaturing a celebrity’s life for public consumption and writing or drawing them in compromising content without their consent is a little weird. You do you. Don’t like, don’t read, as they say.

Fanfic is the perfect starting point for a few reasons:

It places you in a creative box and forces you to work within those constraints

It does all the worldbuilding and character concepts for you

It lets you write way outside your comfort zone

When published and receiving feedback, it boosts your self-confidence

It's incredibly flexible

It’s practice. All practice is good practice

—

Behold your creative box

When I was little I had no idea the majority of fanfic was shipping fics. I always pictured and looked for canon-divergent alternate universes. Like, what if X happened in this episode instead of Y? What if this character never died?

Fanfic demands you work within someone else’s canon, whether it’s an OC in the canonical world, or the canonical characters in an AU. These are like little bowling bumpers saving you from the gutter, but also keeping you on a straight-ish path toward the pins.

The indecisiveness of too many choices can be too intimidating when you’re first starting out. You want to be a writer but you have no idea where to begin, what genre to pick, what characters you want to chronicle, what themes you want to explore.

Even if it sits on your computer never to see the light of day, you still got those creative juices flowing.

Pre-packaged worldbuilding

Sometimes all we want is to get to the good stuff. Maybe I want to write a story about elemental magicians but Last Airbender already exists and I just want to play in a pre-existing sandbox. So I write some OCs into that world and have a free-for-all.

I don’t have to come up with my own lore, world history, magic system rules and mechanics, politics, geography—any of it. I get to just focus on the characters.

Even if you’re writing an AU, like say a coffee shop AU, you don’t have to think about brand new characters, you can just think “What would M do?” and go from there. The trade-off is your readers will expect canonical characters to behave in-character, but I think it’s worth it.

Stretch beyond your comfort zone!

Do you hate writing action scenes? Go practice with a shonen anime fic. Need work on dialogue? Write some high-fantasy fic, or a courtroom drama. Practice a fistfight by watching fistfights and writing what you see, and do it over and over again until what you read makes you feel like you're watching what’s on screen.

But beyond that—practice genres that you aren’t super familiar with. If you’re new to fantasy, write fantasy fic. Or a mystery novel/show, thriller, comedy, satire, adventure, what have you. The nature of fanfic still gives you those “guardrails” and you can get some brutally honest feedback on how you’re doing.

And, of course, the realm of M-rated romance and smut fics. I haven’t because I think I would die of embarrassment if I tried and I never intend to include sex scenes in my works anyway, but if you do want to, use the internet as your test audience. Post it on a throwaway account if you’re nervous.

Build that self-confidence!

The fandoms I used to write for are super dead, so it’s insane how I still get email notifications that so-and-so liked my fic to this day. Comments are as elusive as ever, but random strangers on the internet telling me they liked my work is a magical reassurance that my writing isn’t actually awful.

Random strangers on the internet are, as we all know, beholden to no moral obligation to be kind to your little avatar face, or be kind to be polite. So a rando taking the time to like my work or even leave a positive comment can feel more honest than one of my friends telling me what they think I want to hear.

I tend to avoid the more present aspects of fandom like online communities, forums, social media, what have you, so I get a delayed and diluted aspect of any given fandom through completed works. Which means, in general, I get to avoid the worst and most toxic aspects of fandom and get to sift through positive feedback and critique.

Even if your fanfic isn’t written with stellar prose, it’s fanfic. We don’t expect Pulitzer-prize winning content. And if your work isn’t up to snuff, people are more likely to just ignore it than put you on blast (at least in my experience, I never got a bad comment or a “flame” in the old FFN days).

Fanfic doesn’t care about the rules of published literature

On the one hand, try not to practice bad habits, but with this point I mean that your layout, punctuation, formatting, paragraph styles, chapter length–all of it is beholden to no rules. I get as annoyed as the next reader with giant blocks of paragraphs, or the double-spacing between pages of single-sentence paragraphs, but if the story’s good enough I might ignore it.

There’s more than just straight narrative fics, though. People write “chat” fics, or long streams of text and group chat conversations. The scene breaks can come super rapidly–I’ve seen fics with a single sentence in between line breaks to show the passage of time. And without the polish of a traditionally published novel, I’ve never seen a purer distillation of author voice in any medium more than fanfic.

All practice is good practice

Even if it’s crack fiction, or a one-off one-shot, or something meant to be lighthearted and straightforward and free from complex worldbuilding and intricate plots. It really helps break writer’s block when you can shift gears and headspaces entirely and you can get relatively instant feedback to keep you motivated.

Beyond that, the “guardrails” help you stay consistent as far as character growth and personality if you struggle with designing rich characters.

The most recent fanfic I wrote was just a couple years ago, for a dead fandom I didn’t think would get any traffic whatsoever. It wasn’t my original works, but the feedback on that fic gave me the kick in the butt I needed to get back into writing more seriously.

—

In short, I support fanfic. I may not be proud of my earliest fics' prose now, but I am proud that they walked so I can now run.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing tools #writing a book #writing #writeblr #fanfic #fanfiction #archive of our own #ao3 #ffn

[yanfeisty]

— Voicelines about Creator!Reader (Liyue) ♡ ！

⊹ [ characters ] — Beidou, Chongyun, Ganyu, Hu Tao, Keqing, Ningguang, Qiqi, Shenhe, Xiangling, Xiao, Xingqiu, Xinyan, Yanfei, Yaoyao, Yelan, Yun Jin & Zhongli. ◞

⊹ [ synopsis ] — let's see what they think about you. ◞

⊹ [ cw ] — religious theme. ◞

⠀‣ Beidou

About The Creator: Relaxation

"We had to bring them to Inazuma for a few times, apparently they really wanted to travel with The Crux. Take important person like this isn't really what we do but you know my eye for people, Y/n seemed to be more than what we heard, they were a good travel buddy, playing with the crew and telling interesting stories from another world. Sad, the guards with them don't let them drink 'A drunk God in Inazuma? What would they think?'... But who cares what they think, they should let them have a bit of fun!"

About The Creator: Consort

"You can say traveling has brought us closer, haha! I'm really happy to have find someone like them. I'll never forget the celebration we had on the ship, the weather was kind to us this day, and the food was far better than what we're used to eat, and how could I forgot the drinks, I never saw Y/n that... wild, it's quite the experience, but it's good to see them without having to worry about anything."

⠀

⠀‣ Chongyun

About The Creator

"Like me they have an energy that keeps away evil spirits from them, I suppose spirits are too scared to approach in fear of vanishing into fin air. So, I wonder why people still ask me thinking they need an exorcism, last time, we called me because apparently the Creator had an unusual behavior, rambling unknown words beyond any language experts' knowledge, turned out they just had too many drinks with the leader of The Crux..."

⠀

⠀‣ Ganyu

About The Creator: Relating

"The Qixing had to work a few times with them, and I noticed they always seem a bit anxious so I always try to help them when I can, maybe it's also because I relate to them a bit, they are our Creator but they act more like a mortal, they are trapped between two worlds, leading to confusion not only for them but also others, which would always lead to critiques..."

About The Creator: Consort

"I have still a lot to finish about this, people from all regions will come so we need to strengthen the Millelith to keep everything in order, the music group that was supposed to perform left us so I have to look through the applications again, I need to verify the special invitations just in case there's an error in the date or location. Also, I'll have to go soon for the Sumeru's flowers that should arrive this afternoon. An union between who, you ask? O-Oh... me and Y/n of course! Sorry if I wasn't clear. There's no need to worry about me, I just want everything to be perfect, I don't think I will be able to not blame myself if something bad happened, I know Y/n told me they'll be happy no matter what as long as I'm with them, but that just makes me want to work more for a perfect ceremony."

⠀

⠀‣ Hu Tao

About The Creator

"Even the most superior being needs a long rest sometimes, if it's meant to happen again, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor would be more than honored to prepare a noble ceremony for their departure. Better be quick, and offer them our buy one get one free special!"

⠀

⠀‣ Keqing

About The Creator

"Due to their return, people expect them to rule over Teyvat, which includes Liyue. People also pray to them for the minor inconvenients... *sigh* We can't rely on Gods for everything, we're perfectly capable to survive as our own, and Y/n don't seem convinced to govern alone, even before their death it was never said that the Creator was the one who ruled Teyvat, they simply enjoyed interacting with their creations."

⠀

⠀‣ Ningguang

About The Creator: Tour

"It is a great pleasure to welcome a such honorable guest into Liyue, especially when they were the one who helped us to save our nation. As the Tianquan I was more than glad to have the chance to make them visit the city, it was cute to see them insisting to pay even with no mora on them."

About The Creator: Consort

"I've heard people telling that I accepted their proposal to make my items more valuable and attract more persons to come and make deals in Liyue. In short, our marriage is just a business partnership and not an act of pure love. You... don't believe that, do you? Y/n is worth more than any amount of mora for me, and not because they're the Creator. I know I don't need to prove myself to anyone but I'm concerned if one day Y/n will listen to those rumors."

⠀

⠀‣ Qiqi

About The Creator

"I don't remember who this is... Sorry."

About Y/n

"Y/n is the one who gave me a finch, I named it just like them because they're both nice with me, so when I forgot one of them I just need to look at the other to remember... Uhh, who were we talking about?"

⠀

⠀‣ Shenhe

About The Creator: Disciple

"My family was from a clan of exorcists so they were followers of them, the clan sent prayers and asked for blessings when performing an exorcism. When my mother died, not only did my father abandon me but them too. Maybe that's why I became one of the Acolytes."

About The Creator: Consort

"My master insisted to meet Y/n, not only because they're the Creator but my partner, she wanted to meet the one who 'tamed my heart'. When they did meet, let's say both of their personalities didn't really match well together which gave... an interesting show, but at the end they agreed to share and listen to stories of my childhood..."

⠀

⠀‣ Xiangling

About The Creator

"They told me about dishes from their other world, just hearing about them makes my stomach growl, I'd love cook those dishes if they ever feel homesick, not only can food be delicious but bring warm feelings, and not just because it's hot! But I also love making them try food from here and they always seem to like and excited when I bring them a nice cooked meal!"

⠀

⠀‣ Xiao

About The Creator: Unusual

"They're a God, the oldest one, and yet their body and mind are just as weird and vulnerable as a human."

About The Creator: Consort

"Hm... Yes, about that. Could you help me with something? They always seem to care about me a lot, trying to heal me and making me food, even though I need none of this, but I heard it's expected to show gratitude to the person who cares about you. Since they act more like a human, I don't know what should I offer them. Flowers? Hm... Maybe something that gives me more work, picking up flowers isn't enough to thank them for everything they have done for me. Flowers crowns? I mean... I guess I can try to make one. You think that would make them smile if I had one too? Fine... Show me how to do it."

⠀

⠀‣ Xingqiu

About The Creator

"Ah, they're quite the difficult topic to avoid. My presence was required when my family invited them for a warm welcome to Liyue, I cannot say more as it was a private meeting, but I didn't imagine them with such a casual and clumsy personality, if you would have seen the faces of my father and brother, hehe... Just to say another meeting won't come anytime soon."

⠀

⠀‣ Xinyan

About The Creator

"Who'd think that someone like them would like my performance? Even better, they encourage it! I mean, that's understandable, staying with the most uptight persons and doing boring work all day... Can't even imagine the nightmare, they certainly got the rock 'n' roll's spirit!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yanfei

About The Creator

"Ah... Yes, I'm aware that because of their position we allow them more than we should, but it's not like anyone mind or they do anything bad, the worse that happened was them and Xinyan being a bit too loud. I've heard of a fireworks show in all of Inazuma and a wanted gang getting out of prison, but it's outside of my territory to talk furthermore."

⠀

⠀‣ Yaoyao

About The Creator

"They're always so heavily guarded, so you can always be sure they are in good health with no injuries, but I do worry about how they feel with being followed by people who watch your every move all day. So, whenever I see them, I ask how are they and I always have a ration of their favorite food with me. If you encounter them, tell hi from me and to take care!"

⠀

⠀‣ Yelan

About The Creator: Easy target

"If you knew the number of cases related to them, from little scammers to hitmen, there sure is a great variety. Since the Creator has a more powerful influence than strength, criminals think they are the perfect target for great sum of mora, but they sometimes underestimate a bit too much those close to the Creator and I'm not talking about the Millelith."

About The Creator: Consort

"Shh, not so loud. Surprised, aren't we? That means we're doing a good job at keeping it as a secret. I don't want to be known and blow up my cover, plus with the danger it can attract to them, so we can't announce it publicly but it's not that bad, seeing others thinking they have a chance with them is a funny show, unless Y/n feels uncomfortable, to this I'll attend to it personally when nobody is watching."

⠀

⠀‣ Yun Jin

About The Creator

" 'Through a simple whisper, thousands winds started to blow. Hands drew a river, rising waves emerged from the flow. Love was poured into the earth, and life began to grow~' Aren't these beautiful lyrics? There's a few operas about the Creator as we didn't know them much. We invited them but they appeared a bit embarrassed, which I can understand, so I try to sing tales that aren't about them and might fit their taste. I'm used to hear praises but their enthusiasm about my singing never fails to delight me."

⠀

⠀‣ Zhongli

About The Creator: Hopeful future

"I was surprised to hear about their reincarnation, especially about memories from another world. I had the occasions to talk to them, even if they may seem lost sometimes and lack experiences, the love they share for this world is real and the people around them returns this feeling, with a modern and ambitious mind like them, I'm sure the future of Teyvat will be bright."

About The Creator: Consort

"You want to know more about our contract? Well, our feelings for each other were mutual and we had the same promise which was to keep the other safe and happy, naturally we came to do the ultimate promise to stay together until death separates us, but I fear even this won't be able to break our contract, one that I shall forever cherish and respect. They're quite busy but I stay patient for them to come and see me when they finish with tea that I prepared for relaxing them after a stressful day."

© ་ ׅ : pls don't translate or copy this | don't reblog with yand3r3/cult tags or if you’re a yand3r3 blog/reblog account.

@ ་ ׅ : @haileyo0ostuff

#Genshin x reader #Genshin impact x reader #Zhongli x reader #Xiao x reader #Beidou x reader #Ganyu x reader #Ningguang x reader #Shenhe x reader #Yelan x reader #chongyun #Hu tao #keqing #Qiqi #Xianling #xinqiu #xinyan #Yanfei #Yaoyao #Sagau #Genshin creator au #Yun jin

[zexapher]

Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days

They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.

The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.

You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.

This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).

Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.

The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.

Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.

Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.

Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #rwby white knight #white knight #rwby whiteknight #whiteknight #jaune arc x weiss schnee #jaune x weiss #yang xiao long #golden oreo #yang x jaune #yang x weiss #yang x jaune x weiss #blake belladonna #ruby rose #qrow branwen #sort of #shipping #comics #rwby memes #memes #greenlightvolume10 #rwby volume 10 #rwby news #vacuo #jaune's guitar #needs a come back #disney #aladdin

[gazorninplat]

As much as I love Disco Elysium, I think I was not prepared for Sacred and Terrible Air. Of course, I was expecting to know more about the world of Elysium as a whole, and Robert Kurvitz is a very good writer, but the thesis of the novel (and how it makes its points) flash-banged me.

Disco Elysium this is not, and it wasn’t supposed to be, but I think I can understand better now what the team at ZA/UM was getting at with this specific setting, and these specific narrative angles. Kinda messy, because it’s been a week since I finished it, but here are some things I’d like to highlight: 

1. The pedophilia. I surely wasn’t expecting this to be such a central theme of the novel, but a lot of its main points revolve around it. The most interesting use of this, as a narrative device, is how the girlfriend of Jesper basically accuses him of being a pedophile because he cannot relate to the adults around him. He’s still obsessed with a girl he met when he was 13 years old, and fetishizes a scrunchie he stole from her bag two decades ago. Yeah, I guess Jesper, well into his thirties, is still in love with a 13 year old girl. His girlfriend is almost half his age, and they started dating when she was 15 years old and a lingerie model (!). Zigi mentions how pedophilia was a bougie disease, and well… That idea went right into my thought cabinet (I call it “Bougie Babies for Sale).

Still processing it.

Now, let’s go back to the rest of the main characters. With all this in mind, a pedophilic overtone covers their interest in these four missing girls, but Jasper is the only one who acts on it, sort of. Khan remains in a sort of arrested development (he still uses a shirt he had when he was 13), foregoing normal adult relationships, and Tereesz joins the police as an investigator with the idea of still finding them some day (essentially letting these eternally prepubescent girls define his entire existence), leading him to a very dark path. I wonder if the brutality they afford to the “actual” pedophiles in the story (Vidkun Hird and the Linoleum Salesman) comes from the realization that they are not that different?

2. Obviously, though, this fetishization of the Lund sisters is also a fetishization of the past. The novel states it in the first few pages; they disappeared twenty years ago, in a time that most conservative people remember as the “good old days”. Basically their version of the American Fifties. Now, being obsessed with the past is a running theme in both SaTA and DE, but the angle here is different.

I already said it: the past is not remembered, is fetishized with an almost sexual yearning by a lot of the male characters of the book. They want to be consumed by it (and lucky them! It will) and do nothing more than serve it. It reminds me of a poem by Yamil Nardil Sadek, which, translated to the best of my ability, goes like: 

She awaits me

sitting on the bed,

wearing leather,

and armed to the teeth,

the Memory.

Yeah, that sums up Sacred and Terrible Air pretty well. Everyone is being consumed by the past, bite by bite, and enjoying it. Vidkun Hird, by the mythologized version of his tribe’s history; Sarjan Ambartsumjan, by a miniature ship model that requires constant, devoted thought or else it will disappear, the three main characters by the memory of that summer with the Lund girls. Even the Linoleum Salesman is being haunted and consumed, of sorts, by his sickness and dementia that only sometimes let him take a peek of the past. Beyond that, there are very few characters that do not spend time being followed by relentless ghosts. Literally, in the case of Zigi. Which brings me to…

3. The Pale. It was a really cool concept in Disco Elysium, and it’s an existential nightmare in Sacred and Terrible Air. It always was, really. But here it lets you take a look into it in a way that’s applicable in real life. The Pale is a metaphor for many things, but actually for a single one: A world where our current Capitalist reality facilitates both apathy and yearning for better days, often idealized in our collective pasts.

My favorite scene, one that was incredibly puzzling but so obvious in retrospect, is a beautiful speech by the ghost (?) of Ignus Nilsen to Zigi. I will just paste it here:

“I said terrible things, yes! I stood on a white horse, in a blizzard, and gave speeches. In the mountains, on the construction site… I swung my sword, with silver sunbeams on the hilt. And all around me fluttered white flags, crests of crowned horns made with silver thread, a pentagon between the prongs of the horns, the branches raised to heaven. Everyone who came here with me became happy, Zigi! Communism is powerful! Believe in Communism, it’s a burst of enthusiasm! I promise! It’s beautiful when you believe in a person, but without it…!”

“Without it, there is nothing.”

“Nothing. It was a blizzard, but it was bright, it was morning. Communism is white, it sparkles! Communism is the morning, it is a jubilation!” 

The Pale begins to recede dangerously around the entroponaut.

The fucking Pale recedes with talk of Communism! At first it might appear a little heavy handed (yeah, Communism, by itself, could save the world). But then I got into how Communism could be a solution to the antipathy and chronic nostalgia that sustain Capitalism, and then it hit me. Nilsen, a literal ghost from the past, is talking about a future that could have been. That he wanted to accomplish. That people, probably, can still achieve. The Pale is not eternal, it can be pushed back. Because the Pale seems to subsist on the past, it abhors any talk of the future. A better future. That’s how we solve things, and for a central thesis, is not bad at all.

With that being said, and because I’m just rambling here while pretending I’m working, there are also some things that I just didn’t understand, but maybe it was because of the translation. The original novel is written in a very poetic style, and some of that is still here, but I still need to untangle…

1. The Man. It is said that the day the Lund girls disappeared, they were joined by a mysterious Man that nobody seemed to remember correctly. A character even suspects that she was remembering wrong. Now, the Pale erases people and memories retroactively, so maybe it had something to do with it, but… Who was that? Is there any theory about that Man, or I just missed something? Some scenes and narrations were tough to parse for me (my primary language is not English).

2. Was Malin Lund pregnant? That flash with the fetus was sudden and weird.

3. What was the significance of the three meat piroshkis? They mention that it was unusual that the girls bought them (and if you do the math, you can realize early on that they were not planning to get back home. That purchase didn’t leave them enough money for the bus fare back), but that’s it. Were they for the Man? Also, the narration mentions that Lund girls’ picnic basket contained “the kind of things girls like to eat”, so maybe they were planning to see the boys and bring them the kind of things boys eat? I’m overthinking that? The chapter actually titled “Three Meat Piroshkis” just left me even more confused.

4. I don’t understand how Khan’s pen works at all. The one he brought to the school reunion. That was the part I re-read the most. Anyway, even with that, I loved Sacred and Terrible Air. Definitely one of the most enthralling reads I had, with or without the background of Disco Elysium. I’d still like an official translation that could potentially solve the issues I had, but for now, a Top 10 Book for me.

Go for it now.

#disco elysium #sacred and terrible air #robert kurvitz #literary analysis #random thoughts #book quotes

[inoreuct]

hiii!

if youre willing could you please do (more) headcannons of (were)tiger!zoro x sanji?

or (were)tiger!zoro in general with the crew

HIIIIII YES YES ABSOLUTELY

he’s definitely very protective. if there’s one thing that can rival his tenacity for his dream, it’s his love for his crew. he knows that they can handle themselves but once the danger has passed he has to stand on his own metaphorical tail so that he doesn’t usher them all back to the ship and look them over one by one

even when he’s not a tiger he’s still vaguely cat-ish; he bristles when he feels threatened and yawns to casually put his canines on show as a subtle don’t-fuck-with-me. he just has a vaguely feline countenance to him. it’s in the way that he slinks when he walks, the head tilts when he’s focused or trying to intimidate, the way he tries to act uninterested but perks up when he’s excited 🤌🏼🤌🏼

(sanji finds it awfully endearing. he’d never admit it, though.)

the crew probably tries to keep the fact that he can shift under wraps, considering how many people would pay a pretty penny for his pelt (not that they’d succeed, but. still). HOWEVER. he’s a force to be reckoned with as a person, but if he gets mad enough even while around enemies/strangers he’ll just shift anyway and start ripping people apart with his teeth lmao, especially if his nakama need backup. the eyewitness accounts saying they saw a massive green tiger bounding across the battlefield with a sword in its mouth all sound crazy anyway 😭

i think he licks people just to fuck with them, but also to satisfy a grooming instinct. sanji definitely gets the brunt of it, since they share a bed more often than not; he’s woken up too many times to count with zoro nuzzling at his hair, or callused hands smoothing his bedhead back into place. when they’re arguing zoro will pop into tiger form and lick the hell out of sanji’s hair just to make the cook screech, but if he can tell that it’s not one of sanji’s good days he’ll cut it out because he’s a shithead, but not an asshole. come on.

DEFINITELY shifts when he’s getting yelled at. sanji or nami nagging at him? he turns into a giant tiger and flops down onto the floor to nap. sometimes he puts his paws over his ears for emphasis.

when they’re sailing through colder areas, he just watches indifferently as everybody else shivers and complains because he runs BLOODY hot and it doesn’t affect him at all. but then after dinner he shifts into his tiger form and pads around in a circle before laying down and blinks at them like …well? and they’re all scrambling curl up against him. he snaps at luffy’s fingers when luffy tries to pet his head, but luffy just goes “oop, sorry :p” and goes to sleep and, well. zoro supposes it isn’t all bad.

(he is so used to being the one pinning others down that the weight of his crew is an entirely new experience. he likes it more than he expects.)

speaking of touching. he only really welcomes sanji getting touchy-feely in his tiger form. he tolerates the occasional scratch behind the ear from luffy, because it’s luffy, but his captain knows he doesn’t really like his fur touched beyond that. enter stage right: sanji, who had the audacity to start petting zoro’s head absentmindedly while reading one of his french romance novels and using zoro as a backrest.

zoro had been purring before he even realised. then sanji had realised, and they’d both freaked out, and then zoro had scrambled up to the crow’s nest to figure out what the hell was going on. this whole incident was perhaps his biggest personal indicator that he liked sanji as more than just nakama; funny, because he hadn’t thought he’d like sanji very much at all, period.

he started paying more attention to how much he was willing to make exceptions for the cook, and sanji finally got the hint after weeks of zoro butting his head into his palm. it went something like:

sanji, scratching beneath zoro’s chin: nami, what do you mean he likes me? i do hope that he likes all of us, considering he’s— nami, about to jump overboard: you idiot. you fucking idiot. sanji, leaning against zoro’s side leisurely: nami what do you MEAN nami: HE CAUGHT YOU FISH. *pointing at the huge net full of tuna* sanji, zoro draped across his shoulders like a shawl: HE’S FEEDING THE CREW! nami, at her limit, eye twitching, so close to ripping her hair out: HE’S FEEDING YOU

mind you, throughout all of this zoro’s being absolutely useless and just sitting there incredibly amused. he hadn’t minded waiting for sanji to come around on his own, and that in itself was a sign that he’d been gone from the beginning.

sanji is the only one zoro has EVER rolled onto his back around. his belly is the most vulnerable spot on his entire body; sanji knows what a privilege it is. it’s essentially zoro’s version of puppy dog eyes.

i think he had plenty of run-ins with hunters when he was younger. his pelt is thick and vibrant and highly sought-after, and a few close shaves had left him with scars and major wariness of people in general. he used to hide the fact that he was a weretiger at all cost but now… well, now protecting his crew’s more important. s’not like they’d let anything get to him, anyway.

i see him as a wahnsien tiger, with black stripes and fur in various shades of green; he’s big, heavy too. the first time he woke up with sanji squashed beneath him he panicked a little inside but the cook was fine. his eyes are gold in his tiger form, luminous like all cats’ are, and hella unsettling.

which is interesting, because i like to think that after so many years he’s picked up a few tricks and now? he can sort of half-shift. lengthen his fangs or claws with a neat snk or make his eyes phase burning gold when he wants to scare someone; it’s a brilliant intimidation tactic but it takes a lot of concentration, so he only ever does it on home turf where they have enough territorial advantage for him to feel safe doing it.

wow okay this got LONG. i’m sure i’ll think of more but that’s all i have for now! THANK YOU FOR THE ASK ANON 🫶🏼

part 1 | part 3

#zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zosan #zoro x sanji #one piece sanji #one piece #straw hat pirates #monkey d. luffy #nami #ask box #ino’s ask box #weretiger zoro au

[amuseoffyre]

I'm having a muddle of thoughts and feelings about Ed's subconscious telling him the choices are "you gotta move on or blow your brains out" and the parallels with Izzy saying "not moving on is worse".

It ties in so neatly to all the different ways people deal with trauma depending on their circumstances. For Archie, this is just how things go. For Jim, all things considered, they think it's pretty solid that Blackbeard is trying. For Roach, he's never had an apology for the stuff he's experienced, so this is new and exciting.

Lucius said to Ed in episode 10 of s1 that "maybe he should let go" and I love that we come full circle to Izzy, who has gone through his own scourging loss of self and identity. Only now he's on the other side and he's keeping an eye on his crew, watching out for them now.

In episode 4, Izzy was in a bad way, isolating himself, drinking, screaming abuse at inanimate objects and himself, demanding "what even are you?" because so much of his identity was tied up in being Blackbeard's First Mate and he could see nothing beyond it.

For him, it was the crew showing he still had value and importance to them beyond that single role he had pigeon-holed himself into that let him let go. Yes, there's still trauma there, but he also has found another anchor to tether him. He's part of the whole, instead of being Blackbeard's shadow.

And he sees Lucius is struggling but because he's an acerbic old git, he wouldn't give him the kid-gloves treatment. After Lucius gets himself worked up over the bar being on the ground, Izzy is the one to remind him "this is a pirate ship" and that's how things generally are on them.

So when Lucius comes back, after violence-for-violence therapy didn't work and he's still tangled up in it, he comes spoiling for a fight. He wants someone to lash out at and someone who will lash back and Izzy knows exactly what he's doing because he's done it himself before in episode 3 with Stede ("give me your worst, Bonnet").

The fact it's Izzy who observes that tit-for-tat didn't work is so important, because Izzy and Ed's dynamic was such a push-push of temper and frustration and in the end, so much violence. That's not the kind of person Lucius is and Izzy knows it. Lucius resorting to bitterness and sarcasm to try and rile him up is exactly what he'd expect after their scene in 1x05. Izzy doesn't bite.

And like with Ed, Lucius sees it as "using a bit of fiction to cover up your trauma" and while it's true, Izzy points out that "not moving on is worse".

And like the crew did for Izzy in episode 4, Izzy gives Lucius a craft project he's been working on throughout the course of the episode: a little wooden shark, a reminder to always keep moving forward. Because there's no going back, you can't undo what's been done, but you can keep moving and things can get better with support from the people around you.

#ofmd s2 #ofmd meta #lucius spriggs #izzy hands

[ultratradmalewife]

I fear I may have spoken too soon. I made a post thinking there would be a turn around in the attitude certain Buddie shippers have towards anyone who doesn’t validate their ship, but I just don’t think they quite understand what they’re doing. Some of them are downplaying their homophobia to only the cutting Lou out of the stills, but when I make claims about that it’s something serious, and not really about some stills. How they handle situations like this will and is affecting real life queer people who aren’t secure in their sexuality.

I’ve seen damaging words tossed around about not just a character but a real man, calling him predatory. I’ve seen real fans slinging the word fetish to other queer fans. These fans have almost always done nothing wrong, most of it only comes from one side (I would know I’m chronically online). And we have major accounts like that deranged Samantha girl (who only recently started celebrating Bucks bisexual journey, wonder why) on Twitter amplifying one single shipper who had a really bad take, and these fans know what they’re doing because they use that one take as a weapon to talk about a fictional relationship, a relationship that is currently in the spotlight with general audiences, and all that audience is seeing is that one rotten apple, that one rotten take, and they’ll form an opinion on not just the ship (I don’t care about the ship), but the community itself. That’s where the homophobia comes in.

Do you really think some still is what would cause us to finally be vocal about how our community is being dragged by these fans who can’t think beyond their ship??? We’re being tagged by these accusations and malice, and you expect us to be quiet about it? I defended my trans sisters all last year on Twitter because transphobes made the same accusations, and none once did I think I would have to see this repeated when entering the fandom.

If anyone is actually here for the right reasons I urge you please shut these people up. It’s getting more personal and more nasty now. Ryan’s racist past is re-emerging because Buddie fans are so hell bent on always calling a fictional man (Tommy) racist whenever they can. It’s not my place to forgive Ryan, but none of this would’ve happened if you gave a new character the same decency you gave an actor. Obviously the real human should always come first, but when it comes to race this is a situation that is too real. It wouldn’t surprise me if there’s Buddie shippers actively trying to find something of Lou’s past to smear him, and if they do that’s on him, but this back and forth will only grow more intense by the minute to the point this show will become unenjoyable to everyone. The show brought us together for a reason and I will like to keep it that way, and I urge those bloodthirsty shippers to find that reason again.

(And Buddies what is it with you calling anyone who doesn’t like your ship racist? I’m a Mexican who doesn’t like Buddie because of the stereotype of a catholic gay. Does that make me racist?)

#I can’t lie I can’t see Ryan in the same light anymore but that’s not for me to forgive #and not for me to weaponize #you can dislike a ship all you want but those are the type of things you keep to yourself or a discord with close friends #just don’t hate to the point it affects the community #911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #eddie diaz #bucktommy #buddie

[saintsenara]

How are you able to enjoy toxic/unhealthy/“problematic” ships/characters without feeling weird (for lack of a better word) about it?

I ask this because I want to be able to do this myself as it seems like a much more enjoyable way of engaging with fiction to me. I can get over some ships just being toxic and the characters not being good together and still enjoy their dynamic but I have trouble with the other ships that feel morally wrong. I know it’s just fiction but I can’t seem to get over the ick feeling I have when I think about those ships/characters. I feel like I’m being too puritanical about these things but I don’t know how to stop feeling like something is gross when I feel it’s gross…

Do you have any tips to stop jumping to moralizing ships/characters?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

i'm going to be upfront that this reflexive gross feeling isn't something i've ever really struggled with - both in fic and more broadly. this is due to various personal idiosyncrasies, above all the fact that i've got disengaged boomer parents who didn't police our media consumption [my favourite book when i was eleven? lolita...] and that i'm a doctor, which is a profession which requires you to develop a very high threshold for what you find disgusting. the human body - at all stages of its life-cycle and its cycle of decomposition - produces a lot of different fluids... and it's also the case that [just as if you can think of it, there's porn for it] if an inanimate object exists, somebody somewhere has got it stuck inside them...

and so the situation that i find myself in is that i consider it infinitely less weird that i enjoy the odd bit of hot tomarrymort action than that i actively enjoy cutting through bone with a saw...

but, obviously, "get a medical degree" isn't particularly helpful advice...

i am a ride-or-die fan of the concept of stepping outside of your comfort zone. this is why i'm such an avowed multishipper - i think it's good for us as fandom citizens to examine the potential of our faves in relationships [romantic or otherwise] which are either not their canon endgames or which aren't our preferred pairings, and in situations which don't align with their canon experiences [whether that means making them suffer or giving them full-on fluff]. it draws out the multiple aspects of a character to consider them from these different angles - and it prevents us from getting so stuck in one interpretation of a character or configuration of a ship which means that it puts our backs up to stumble across stories which approach things differently.

but stepping outside of your comfort zone doesn't mean that you have to go enormously far. it may be that a reader decides - having only ever read teen-rated fics where characters' sex lives don't extend beyond hand-holding and forehead kisses - to take the plunge into an explicit piece filled to the brim with watersports and age play. it may be that a reader decides - having only ever read teen-rated fics for one canon pairing - to read a teen-rated fic for a non-canon alternative. both of these are entirely valid approaches.

by which i mean, our comfort levels and our thresholds for discomfort are subjective, they're personal. if there are ships or themes or characters you don't want to read about because they don't feel good... you're not doing something wrong if you avoid them. exposing yourself to fics you expect to make you uncomfortable can be useful - and fiction is certainly a way to explore discomfort which gives you much more control over the experience than encountering it in real life - but it's not something you're obliged to do to be active in fandom.

the thing you are obliged to do to be active in fandom is to be nice to other people, no matter what their tastes in fiction. this means, at its fundamental level, that when you see people who ship pairings or like themes which make you think "ew"... you keep it to yourself/the group chat rather than putting it on the timeline.

but, once this is something you've got the hang of [which takes a bit of time! but practice makes perfect!], something i feel can be a really useful way of overcoming a tendency towards knee-jerk moralising reactions is to just vibe in the vicinity of people you know like the content you instinctively feel is gross.

this doesn't mean you have to read any of this content - but you'll learn just by hanging out near them that the people who do are just... normal. one minute they might reblog a rec for a pairing you think "absolutely not" about, the next they might reblog a cat picture which makes you squeal with delight. you'll like some of their content, but not all. you'll agree with some of it, but not all. you might like progressively more of it as you spend time in their orbit - maybe they'll explain why they like the pairing or character in question and you'll think "huh, i've never looked at it like that" - or you might not. this is absolutely fine.

all of us - at one time or other - have made a black-and-white moralising pronouncement: people who think x are gross; people who like y are fucked-up, you'd never catch me doing z. and these pronouncements are different from our wider, societally-influenced moral codes - which are good things, otherwise we'd live in the purge - in that they're fundamentally ways for us to feel good about ourselves and our families and our friends by defining ourselves as better than a faceless other. we say "you'd never catch me reading that, it's foul" when we know [or think we know] that the friend we're talking to would agree with the statement. we are far less likely to say it if we know that the friend - whom we see as a human being who is beautiful in their imperfection and inherently worthy of love simply by virtue of being alive - was reading and enjoying that just the other day.

and so the best way to train yourself out of reflexively moralising ships or characters or tropes is to put a face to the faceless other who likes them. be intentional in sharing a space with fans of the stuff you feel uncomfortable with and, eventually, it just becomes background noise. you'll scroll on tumblr, say "well there we are, jane's written some more of her sirius/harry piss kink fic - although i'm not interested in clicking on it" and go on with your day.

because the other thing i think it's really useful to do is to train yourself into reframing your disgust as disinterest. there are plenty of things which i don't seek out to read - and some of these topics are completely benign and some are darker [i don't enjoy reading explicit non-con, for example] - but this is because i try to frame it as that i don't think these things would interest me.

this is still the maintenance of a personal comfort zone, but thinking of the content outside this zone as something you are disinterested in turns it into something neutral. when you think of it as something to be disgusted or grossed out by, it naturally provokes a visceral response which makes you look through a moral lens. thinking in terms of disinterest, instead, gives you sufficient detachment from this visceral response to recognise, interrogate, contextualise, and control it.

and - in time - this neutral reframing may result in you feeling more interested in taking the plunge into the ships and characters and stories you currently don't vibe with, once you don't have an instinctive disgust response as a barrier.

or it may not. and this is absolutely fine.

#asks answered #on fandom

[fluorescentbalaclava]

training season's over

Chapter 4: C.R.O.W.

Summary:

Crow / C.R.O.W. A derogatory term derived from the First World War, which refers to a new recruit or inexperienced soldier or Combat Recruit of War. The title is given to the newest members of a regiment.

TF141/female reader

spy reader, forced bonding, slow burn, slow build, militar inaccuracies, sugestive language, language, canon typical violence, second chance, they hate you at first sorry

previous: chapter three "Foxtrot Oscar"

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The days before the mission were uneventful, they went back to the old silent treatment, which made you think that your request for professionalism was as productive as talking to a concrete wall. Three concrete walls to be precise.

You spent the nights studying the scarce intel about the island you’d received in a manila folder, and you made your own contingency plans in case you were effectively left to take care of yourself.

The five of you were up for this mission, the Bravo team as you were told once you sailed. There were a few jokes thrown around to the fact that Price was dressed as a fisherman as he was staying behind in the rented boat to keep it ready in case you had to escape if things went wrong. You were all geared up to make a swim to the shore, and the equipment they used felt heavy on your body. It's been a while since you used this kind of heavy military gear, usually opting for a lighter one and keeping only the strictly necessary in your bag, back in KorTac. But it seemed like in the 141 they wanted to go all in, heavy vest, utility belt, and an even heavier bag containing other useful things was being carried by Ghost. How they didn't sink into the bottom of the ocean carrying all those things was beyond you.

An annoyed but soft, or so you thought, sigh left your mouth as you were now inside the complex in the middle of the island, leaving a trail of dead hostiles behind you both.

"What's wrong?" Gaz whispered to you as both of you were going down a hall, empty so far.

"Nothing important" You whispered back, walking some steps in front of him, opening yet another door and firing twice, the shots were muffled by your gun's silencer. "Clear"

"Corporal, talk to me" He whispered again, guarding the door as you went through the papers in the office you just cleared to see any hints of the stolen materials. Nothing useful.

"It's just...I hate missions that involve swimming first, especially in the ocean. You have to walk around dripping for the whole thing, your skin is sticky with salt water, your clothes weigh more, and your hair is disgusting until you get a shower" You answered trying to peel the wet fabric from around your neck, grimacing at the feeling. Gaz let out a sudden chuckle, clearly not expecting that answer and probably waiting for another kind of complaint.

"Yeah, it's annoying..." He admitted, before you came out of the office in front of him again, finally close to the wider door at the end of the hall, which led to a deposit, you looked back at Gaz, and he gestured for you to go first. Of course.

You pushed the door with your body, the weapon still prepared to fire, and you felt your sergeant’s presence behind you. Only shipping containers could be seen, as well as two trucks to transport them, some other tools were scattered, as well as blueprints and oil spills on the floor.

"Ghost, this is Gaz. Everything clear around here, we found shipping containers, and we'll go through them. How's your front?" Gaz said pressing his comm, and after some cracking down the line you could heard some gunshots.

"Yeah, you're good there because everyone came to greet us" Soap said down the comm, before the line buzzed again and a deeper voice came out.

"We're taking care of them" Ghost said, not sounding phased by the situation.

When you glanced back at Gaz, you noticed a red pointer, aiming from his head. You quickly ran to him, to which his eyes widened surprised but before he could react or say anything you harshly lunged against him, successfully tackling him behind one of the shipping containers, both of you falling hard against the floor as he grunted at both the fall and your weight on top him, your face clashing against his vest and you could feel the steel chest plate under and his gun in between your bodies. Behind you, you heard the delayed bullet impacting against the wall, followed by another one, that was lower, clearly trying to hit you as you moved to take cover.

"Fuck...thank you" He looked at the bullet on the wall. You quickly pulled away from him, rising from the floor and you peeped around the corner to get a peak of who shoot, but you couldn't see anything. Hidden sniper, great.

"It's nothing" You said looking back at him, before peeping again, as you hide your head behind the container another bullet hits the metal, missing you. "I can't see the bastard."

"I'll go through the left, go through the right so we can corner them" He said in a commanding tone, and you nodded.

He made a run through the fire range, until he was hidden behind another container, not before another shot barely missed him, clashing against the wall.

You made another run, and two other shots missed you, but you saw him, just one guard. Once you were out of the sight, you pressed your comm and whispered through it.

"One male. M14 rifle. Twenty round magazine, must have fourteen left."

"Let's try to get him while he reloads." The comm buzzed back, he was hidden, but he poked out and fired back, making the man hide before he shot three bullets this time, missing again. Eleven left.

You run again, now hiding behind a truck, moving closer in light steps but your movement earned shots that followed your path, one gazing your arm and making you hiss as you hid again. Seven more to go.

Gaz pushed a small trolley from behind his hideout, making the tools fall from it and the clanking sounds echoed through the deposit, followed by three shots that thundered even louder. Both of you are still moving closer, with calculated steps, lurking. Just four.

You poked from behind the truck, and so did Gaz, both of you shooting, not really to hit but to scare, to put him on edge, make him nervous, make him slip. And he did. He shot back like a madman, until the distinctive sound of a trigger pulling on an empty chamber was heard, you came out from behind the truck but Gaz, who was closer, was already making a run for him, and then one single shot put an end to the encounter.

"Good work, corporal" He said as you approached, both of you breathing hard through your noses. "Let's find those robots."

After carefully inspecting each closed container, careful enough to check first if they weren't rigged with traps, you finally found one filled with closed wooden boxes with the US logo, you mutter a lazy "Found them" to Gaz, and he goes to meet you, before pressing his comm "Captain we found them, we are in the deposit" and you kept looking around, to check if there was anything else worth mentioning, while you heard a Price answer "Copy. A job well done, muppets. I'll tell Laswell and move closer; it's going to be a while before they come take their stuff back so get comfortable. The coast is clear?"

You quietly told Gaz that you were going to check the perimeter and he nodded as he was mostly listening to Price, and you opened a door in the deposit that led outside, the fresh sea hair sending a shiver down your spine when you felt it against your moist skin, you heard Soap said "Everything good from here, cap. We tucked everyone and they're sleeping tightly. Gaz, we're coming to you".

You heard some noise coming from a shed close to the door, something moving inside.

Lifting your gun again, you heard Gaz answering "Copy that" as you approached the door, opening it with a kick, before looking inside, no movement to be seen. You entered slowly, your weapon before your body, your senses in alert.

Abruptly, a strong grip was holding your wrist, trying to take the gun out of your grip. You positioned yourself between the aggressor and your weapon, using your body to avoid him getting a hold of it, but in the middle of the struggle it fell across the room. The figure then tried to wrap his arms around your neck, but your elbow connected hard with his side, and you threw your head back, brutally connecting with his nose and making him back out.

"Sage, what's your position?" Gaz said through the comms, as you tried to make a run for your weapon, dropping on your knees through the floor, and you heard a pained "Мой нос...сука" behind you, before a hand grabbed your ankle, dragging you back to him, your hand barely missing your weapon and all you could grab was barbed wire, before you were pulled. "Corporal, position. Now." Ghost said through the comms, already sounding livid. You turned around on the floor, laying on your back, the man's hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing tight, fuelled by hate. As blood droplets from his broken nose fell in your face while you felt yourself getting red at the lack of oxygen, your free hand reached up, burying your thumb mercilessly inside his eye. Thank God I'm wearing gloves.

"Lass? Where are you?" Soap tried. The man screamed, loud enough for the three men inside the big deposit to hear something in the distance. As he jerked back from you, his hand covering his eye, you got up.

Moving by inertia and the adrenaline going through your veins, you grabbed the barbed wire, some of the spikes puncturing your gloves and perforating your skin, but you didn't care as you wrapped it around his neck, squeezing it with all your might. His body fell on top of you as he chocked and struggled, which made you squeeze tighter. Your grip was becoming sloppy as his blood covered your hands. After some faint noises, he stopped moving, and you let him go, panting heavily. His limp body slipped from your body to the floor.

The first to enter was Ghost, fuming, probably thinking you were trying that something he warned you not to, but instead he was greeted by a gruesome sight, blood quickly pooling on the floor. You just looked up at him, strands falling from your bun, your eyes like a deer caught in headlights. You were looking like a mess, breathing heavily, sitting on the floor with his blood still on your hands and face.

Then Gaz arrived, making a disgusted gesture with his face, and next to him Soap, who just whistled, walking towards you, not bothering to avoid stepping on the blood. Your body relaxing slightly when you noticed they were not a threat.  

"You good, Carrie White?" He said extending a hand to you, helping you back on your feet.

"Peachy" You said sarcastically, grabbing the hand to stand up. "Did you read Carrie?"

"I watched the movie" He said shrugging, a soft breath left through your nose, amused at his reply.

Ghost stared at the man who attacked you, laying lifeless on the floor, his factions barely distinguishable with the broken nose, the blood coming from it and from his eye, and the pool of blood from the slice on his throat running down on the floor. Then he looked back at you, the eye contact was slightly unsettling.

"Your hands?" Ghost said, making you look down at the body, almost to remind yourself about the barbed wire, before looking away from it with a hint of disgust.

"They're fine, the gloves are thick. The spikes went through them but didn't feel that bad" You took off the dirty gloves with difficulty, your hands had small cuts, as if you gripped a thorny rose. Your gloves, however, were broken.

"Go to the infirmary when we're back" It wasn't advice, it was an order.

Back at base, once you filled all your paperwork and visited the nurses so you could chat with someone who didn't see you as a burden and get your cuts checked, you went back to your usual afternoon routine. A quick meal on the mess-hall before going to the gym.

Punch after punch, your senses focused only on the music coming out from your headphones and on the bag in front of you, blind to the world around you.

You should know I...

And then the usual thoughts came back, how you had a house, you were comfortable. You felt like you were on top of the world.

I need someone to hold me close, deeper than I've ever known.

And now you had an ankle monitor, forced to walk around the base over and over like a chained dog until someone decided you were useful enough to take you out for a walk.

Whose love feels like a rodeo, knows just how to take control. When I'm vulnerable, he's straight-talking to my soul.

Your punches become more frequent and harsher. The cuts on your hand stinging. The dry blood on your face, his hands around your neck, the oxygen being cut. His blood growing cold.

Conversation overload, got m---

And suddenly, your music stopped.

When you let the bag catch a break to turn around to your phone, you saw Gaz, bent over enough and his finger on the screen over the pause button. He was wearing gym clothes as well, probably having the same idea as you of having a quick lunch and taking advantage of the emptiness of the gym while everyone ate.

"By the way you're hitting that I can't tell if you love or hate Dua Lipa" He said with a slightly teasing tone, which made you chuckle.

You didn't realize how sweaty and agitated you were becoming by the exercise, so the laugh came out a bit breathier than expected.

"Needed to blow some steam" You answered taking a deep breath to recover your breath, before reaching for your water bottle. "Wasn't expecting company."

"Well, it was me distracting you or the bag" He said walking over to you, gesturing with his head up, and you saw that the bag was on the edge of getting unhooked and falling. You took a sip from water as you followed his movements.

With an enviable ease he lifted the bag, putting it back in place.

"Oh, thanks...sorry, I didn't realize."

"Ah, it's okay, old equipment" He said sounding actually amicable, and he stood behind the bag, grabbing it from the sides. "I can hold it for you, if you want."

"Are you sure, sergeant?" Confusion in your tone, as you looked back at him.

"I am sure" He said still sounding friendly, and you narrowed her eyes looking back at him, and started to punch again the bag, this time a bit softer. "And no need to call me sergeant here, I was the one to check your hard drives. I might not know a lot about you, but you sure know a lot about us, so no need to play dumb."

Ah, there it is. But still, it wasn't in a hostile tone like the first weeks, and plus he was still holding the bag. A small smirk appeared in the corner of your mouth as you kept hitting the bag.

"I didn't think you'd feel comfortable with me calling you Kyle out of nowhere" You said in a slight teasing tone.

"No more than I'm comfortable with having you here" Ouch.

"But Gaz could be a start" Better.

next chapter: chapter five "R&R"

if you like it leave me some kudos or suggestions on ao3! <3

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #soap cod #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #soap x reader #johnny mactavish #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #john price x reader #john price

[lotus222]

Okay.

I only meant to make one SJM post cause Ik how certain girls like to tussle

But since the gwynriels and elucians decided to mess w me EVEN THO I SAID TO LOOK AWAY IF YOU GET EASILY TRIGGERED…

There is only one thing to do:

Talk more about why Elriel is not based in delusion — unlike some ships (not naming names, if you take offense that’s your mind questioning things)

Again, I am giving my PERSONAL OPINION. I even said at the end of my last post that I am not the author and I will love & respect whatever SJM does, which some of y’all can’t echo. That’s sad. This is a fictional world.

DISCLAIMER: if you’re easily triggered by elriel/elucian/gwynriel…l o o k a w a y

DISCLAIMER#2: I am unapologetic cause this is my page :)

Also, stop hitting my line with the “I wasn’t going to respond to this but…” or “you’re so anti…” like 1, if you weren’t going to respond, then don’t. It’s not that serious where the world is BEGGING for your opinion. And 2, I’m not anti anything, I’m pro-logic, again if that offends you then that’s a convo for you and you not you and me.

Now onto the main event…

Azriel

My mans is being dragged through the mud both in the books and online. We say we “love him” but are ignoring what he wants and babes, that’s Elain. If you don’t like her personally, that’s not how Az is feeling, that’s how YOURE feeling. Gwyn has one chapter (+1 sentence) of where I can even attempt to grasp at what Gwynriel’s quote as bible, but again, AZ AND ELAIN HAVE 3 BOOKS. Y’all are acting like Rhys in Az’s bonus chapter and if Rhys couldn’t make his stance acceptable, y’all definitely can’t.

Elain

Again, I say, if you do not like the lady pictured above, stop reading ACOTAR cause she ain’t going anywhere. To be so for real, I didn’t mind Elain at first, meaning I didn’t care whether or not she was included in any story whatsoever. But as I read ACOWAR and ACOFAS, I started realizing that there’s something so lovely about having a character who is innately good and wants/practices peace in a world of animosity and ugliness. She brings beauty in all areas of her life and I think that there’s nothing bad about being “boring” cause that just means your life ain’t a dang mess (*cough* *cough* everybody else in this book)

So here is where I debunk all the claims I have grown tired of ignoring:

• #1 - “He hadn’t gotten that far into his planning beyond the fantasies he’s pleasured himself to.”

(Picture credit: unknown) Get a good look cause that’s what he’s doing at night when he thinks about ELAIN. (It’s canon, so cry to yourself)

So, y’all really think you got us here, huh? So, my man Azriel blatantly admits to thinking of Elain when he wants to be intimate and y’all STILL want your girl to be with this man?

Ugh

Anyway, so Azriel hadn’t planned a relationship with Elain…OKAY???? Did you expect this man to have a map laid out about how he’s going to steal Lucien’s mate??? Do y’all even know Azriel? Like, be so for real rn.

Idk about y’all but when I have a crush on someone, I’m not thinking about how to steal them from the rest of the world, I’m imagining kissing them or going on cute dates. Not how I’ll actually make it happen. And ik y’all do that too with your favorite celebrities so stop playing.

He has a crush. Can you let the man figure out if Elain even wants him to act on it before he plans a 12-step mission on making Lucien disappear forever?

Azriel doesn’t want to force his emotions on anyone (as seen with Mor) so of course he’s not going to act or plot without confirmation that the other person in the party wants that. I.E. why he hadnt tried anything with Mor in all the CENTURIES that he liked her.

So, yeah, consider that point invalid.

• #2 - Lucien is Elain’s mate

(PC: @shauna_the_author) *sigh* This one cannot be dubunked, unfortunately, because it is true. You got me here.

BUT

Elain is more likely to marry Nuala and Cerridwen before she spends the rest of her life with Lucien.

And it has nothing to do with Lucien. It really, really doesn’t. Elain simply doesn’t like him. Y’all were in my comments like “oh he didn’t really sell out Elain and Nesta, he didn’t know”. OKAY. But Elain literally says in ACOWAR that she knows Lucien as two things: Feyre’s friend and the MAN WHO SOLD THEM OUT TO HYBERN

Who cares if it isn’t true, that’s what Elain thinks and with her in mind, you can’t say that this bond means anything more to her than Lucien having some ownership of her which she doesn’t like at all. She even tells Graysen that she doesn’t care Lucien is her mate (“I belong to no one, but my heart belongs to you.”)

Whereas with Azriel, my girl is practically skipping into his arms; talking with him about her dream garden, getting him not one but two solstice gifts, almost-kissing him, recoiling at Cassian’s dagger but actively using Azriel’s…

Idk about y’all but if someone who was fated to be with me was acting this way with another girl, I’d drop him like a hot potatoe. AND AS LUCIEN SHOULD. He deserves someone who wants him, not someone who, as even Lucien said in ACOWAR when he was questioning if Elain was “worth it”, is shackled to him.

I harbor no ill will toward this dreamy man, but it ain’t gonna happen so do Elain a favor and lose her number, k?

• #3 - Sarah wouldn’t do the 3 brothers with 3 sisters, it’s too cliche

Write your own book then. Fan fiction is a thing. If the ONLY thing preventing you to see reason is the possibility of a cliche in a book about kingdoms and fairies and magic then your priorities are so out of shape I won’t even spend the time explaining it to you.

This is SARAH’s WORLD. If she wants to be cliche and have the three female protagonists end up with the three male protagonists then let her. Omg.

• #4 - That Gwynriel scene tho

(NOTE THE PICTURE) Oh, you mean the bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? Not that one? Oh, then maybe you mean the other bonus chapter that featured thoughts about Elain? No? You mean the scene with Gwyn…hmmm

OH! You mean the 2 page conversation about training and why he couldn’t sleep (cause of Elain) and the subsequent regift of Elain’s present to Gwyn. Yeah, I know about that but why are we talking about it? Cause that means Az likes Gwyn? Huh?

That’s how delulu y’all sound. And if I hear another “you’re the ribbon Az”, one more time I’ll scream. THE RIBBON WAS ABOUT TRAINING NOT GWYN WANTING TO SLEEP WITH THE MAN. We are talking about the same girl who hadn’t left a library in god knows how long because of a sexual trauma and y’all are forcing her onto another man??

Gwyn was focused on coming into herself and mastering the ways of the Valkyrie. Nesta meant Gwyn found another obstacle in Az that she would have to overcome to become a Valkyrie. The only man Gwyn was concerned about was Cassian and that’s cause he was getting it on with Nesta. Again, be so for real right now.

I refuse to acknowledge this point until the opposing ships acknowledge the 3 books (+ ACOFAS) of build up between Elain and Azriel.

• #5 - Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court

This is the last point I’ll mention cause I actually feel bad for dogging the Gwynriels like this, but it had to be done. (Elucians get a pass bc at least their ship is based in evidence)

Elain doesn’t belong in the Night Court, okay, yeah Cassian said that the colors drown her out, I’ll give you that.

But Elain doesn’t know where she belongs anymore, just like Azriel has said about himself. She’s still figuring herself out and what she wants, so it’s okay she looks odd at times or feels at times out of place. Azriel keeps his shadows out 24/7 for the same reason. He doesn’t let anyone past the front he puts on unless he knows it’s safe to. They’re both figuring out how to live their best lives in their current lives.

I’ve heard Dusk Court theories and others but I won’t even repeat those (even tho they’re so good and you should definitely look into them). They just need to find their place in this world (and Cassian was right, Elain DOES NOT BELONG in the Hewn City).

Just like how Nesta didn’t believe she belonged in the Inner Circle, I believe there’s a place for Elain and Azriel where they can be themselves. They just need to find it I.E. their book.

-

Okay, that’s enough slaying of my enemies for one post. Again, this is just my opinion/theories and at the end of the day I’ll be happy with whatever Mrs. Maas gives us as long as she gives us something.

Act correctly or else I’ll be back.

#elriel #elain archeron #azriel #cassian acotar #lucien vanserra #rhysand #Feyre #feysand #nessian #acofas #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #nesta archeron #sjm #sarah j maas #crescent city #house of sky and breath #house of flame and shadow #bryce quinlan #hunt alathar #tamlin #spring court #night court #sjmaas #book opinions #elain x azriel #elain acotar #a court of thorns and roses

[jpitha]

Here to Help

I was thinking about my Oxygen Breather's story and how much I liked the universe, so I took an old Flash Fiction Friday story and edited, fleshed it out and stuck it into the same universe.

I was sure this was the end.

We were on a cargo ship, doing a run to a station run by a local cartel - the captain knew it was a risky job, but we needed the money - when pirates had Flashed in, right next to us! They were incredibly reckless with their use of their FlashWarp drive. Their weapons shredded our defenses. We new we should surrender and the pirates might only take our cargo, but the captain - knowing who owned the cargo - made a run for it anyway. They fired a grapple and caught us before we could even think that we had gotten away.

When they boarded, there was a minor firefight. We were a cargo ship, but the captain kept up weapons training in between Flashes. Partly as something to do and partly to help repel boarders. It was futile though, we were completely outgunned. They killed the captain and the command deck officers immediately. They stole all our cargo and captured us. "For ransom" their translator modules said with a mechanical laugh.

We were all lead aboard the pirate ship in chains.

Not everyone was resigned to their fate. While in transit, two people conspired to try and overpower the guard who brought our food and steal their weapon. When they tried though, they were the ones overpowered. They were executed in front of us and from then on we received no food.

We had docked at a large station and I overheard one of the guards saying that we were going to be sold. I knew the life expectancy of slaves out here and decided that - one way or another - that was not going to be me. A demi cycle after we docked, they started feeding us again so we wouldn't look so scrawny for sale. At the second meal they had opened the door to give us our barely edible "food" and I saw the hall beyond. I ducked under out captor and ran as fast as I could.

Hearing their shouts, I didn't waste energy with a glance back.I just ran.

Sliding around a corner, I heard the crack of hull spalling as their energy weapon missed me. I dove headfirst out of their airlock and landed in a pile. Scrambling, I got back up on my feet and ran again. I was on a strange starbase, with no idea where I was, let alone even a way to call anyone for help. Not paying attention to where I was going, I ran full into this being.

Quickly apologizing and standing, I looked up at them, and then boggled. They were taller than me, and dense, and wore an armored pressure suit, polished to a glossy blue. I had no idea who they were; I had never seen anyone like them before. I was struck with how... shiny the suit was. It was almost wet. They must spend hours polishing it to get it looking like that. I knew enough that there were some sapients that couldn't breathe our manganese sulfur atmosphere, but I never had seen one in person. My frill shook with the realization that they were trapped in their suit. They were bipedal with an even number of appendages. Even though their suit I could see that they had surprisingly delicate fingers, made for high dexterity work.

They bent down, and as they did, their dark helmet cleared, revealing a bilaterally symmetrical face with two eyes and long red fur on the top of their head, piled behind the helmet. As they bent down their translator module clicked.

please speak so that the appropriate language family can be found and translated.

"Um. Help me? I don't know where I am, and people are after me. My ship was captured and we were all taken prisoner to be sold here as slaves."

After a moment passed - for the translator to work I assumed - the being's close set eyes went wide and they leaned back in surprise. I held up my arms, still shackled to reinforce my predicament.

Their translator was smooth and very natural sounding. They clearly had access to high technology. They could have been a storyteller with that voice! "Of course we'll help you. I hate slavers. Let's go rescue your friends." The translator really was excellent. I could hear the venom in their voice. They were not lying about hating slavers, that much I knew."

What?" The being in the blue suit made a gesture with their delicate fingers. Before I could blink 5 more of the black suited individuals appeared, all carrying massive rifles. They looked like slug throwers to me. I was sure slug throwers were illegal on all Coalition stations, but they either had an exception, or didn't care.

Wondering how much longer I had to live, I lead them back the way I came and they appeared at the umbilical to the pirate's ship.

In their clear, melodious voice the black suited leader called out: "Surrender yourselves slavers, and you will survive. Resist and perish."

At that, the pirates fired a single shot at the figure. It splashed off their helmet, and they didn't even flinch! Once again, the leader bent down and spoke to me.

"Wait here a moment please."

With no thought given to their own safety, not even crouching down, they strided into the slaver vessel. As ordered, I stayed back, listening to the sounds of battle. Immediately I heard the pirates attack. The sharp crack and wine of their rifles was countered with the tremendous noise the rifles that the black suited ones carried. Some were a report loud enough to be an explosion, and a few of them carried ones that chattered and roared almost continuously. After hardly any time at all the shouts and taunts from the pirates became screams and whimpers.

It felt like moments, but I guess a two or three millicycles passed and they came back out with all of my surviving crew behind them.

The blue suited leader came up to me. "There you go. They won't be bothering anyone anymore. Do you have a way to go home?"

I ruffled my frill in the negative.The leader looked back at her crew and made a gesture. Replies in the assent came back from them and they made some gestures on the pad attached to their arm.

"With the crew dead, and the ship captured as a legal Spoil of Battle - it was nice of them to fire first - I declare this ship to legally be yours now."

I stood dumbstruck. My frill waved up and down in surprise. Remembering my manners, I opened my mouth and said "T-thank you."

"You're welcome. We're happy we could help." And as they stood back up, I realized they were leaving. I had to know. "Wait! Who are you?"

They turned and cleared their helmet again. In their clear, musical voice the translator said "My Name is Miriam Elemii and these are-" she gestured "-Miriam's Marauders. We're a Human mercenary group.""Human?""Yup! Glad to meet you. Now, keep in touch, we'd love to hear how you're getting on, and if you ever need some help-" she handed me a card "-Give us a call."

As they walked away, my new crew came over to me, cheering and singing how proud they were of me and how pleased they would be to follow me from now on. I just stared and watched them walk away.

#The Oxygen Breathers #humans are space orcs #humans are deathworlders #sci fi writing #writing #humans and aliens #humans are space capybaras #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #jpitha