#and a helmet that lets him disguise himself

[baldurs-gape]

Pulling githtails

Sometimes people had very peculiar ways of making friends. If Gale had ever felt like he was not very well equipped in such a skill, watching some of his current tadpole infected companions made him reconsider his own aptitude. Sure, there were some like Karlach who were larger than life, laughed and drew in all those around them. She had an easy time making friends wherever she went. So did Wyll, his earnest determination didn't even have to wear people down, he simply existed in their orbit and people let him in. By contrast, Shadowheart seemed to choose being aloof, something something Sharran teachings about connections leading to nothing but grief. It was fine, that was her choice. Meanwhile Lae'zel seemed to simply not care for forging bonds. She was on a mission and that was all that mattered. Those who could assist were welcome to share her space in order to obtain their goal but that was it. Last but perhaps most fascinating was Astarion. His aloof manner and poorly disguised vampiric nature were made all the more interesting by his incessant need to poke and prod at people.

At first Gale had been irritated. He didn't enjoy Astarion's digs at his abilities, his past with Mystra or even his fashion sense. Yet every one of his rebuffs was met with a laugh and quip rather than Astarion leaving to pester somebody else. Truthfully, Gale had thought Astarion would be more like a cat that needed a subtle approach until he was accustomed to his presence. Instead, he found himself being treated like a cat but by a five year old who tugged at the cat's tail for attention and perhaps even trying to poke at the limits of a boundary. Either way, the end result was that Astarion's snide comments became less about Gale himself and more about life in general. And, actually, Gale found himself rather enjoying Astarion's company once he'd calmed down somewhat. It also afforded him the luxury of watching the same process of making friends take place while comfortable in his own standing.

After a fight where they were all covered in viscera, blood and who knew what else, Astarion gave Lae'zel a long look from head to toe. In another situation it could have been misconstrued as something more but now Astarion just smirked.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a githskanky," he announced and grandiosely pointed towards the river. "Please wash off that stench before I lose my lunch."

Grumbling, Lae'zel stomped past but made sure to flick her braids near him and Astarion got a glob of mushy red on his cheeky. He scowled, nose crinkling and looked at Gale.

"I guess she took double lessons in fighting at the cost of etiquette lessons." As if that would put someone like Astarion off. If anything, he was spurred on as he trotted after Lae'zel. "Wait! Lae'zel!"

She was wading into the river, already half stripped and rinsing the worst off her armour. Head snapping up, she took in the approaching vampire.

"What?"

"I had the sudden concern around your relations with water," Astarion explained. However, his mouth was already pulled into a badly hidden grin, betraying the incoming joke. "You're of the lizardy sort and they're not usually very water oriented in these parts. It would have been a rather unfortunate oversight on my part to not ensure you are safe. After all, I'd hate to be respinsible if our merry little group had to remember you as their githsanky."

A helmetful of water was hurled rather expertly in Astarion's direction, drenching him. But it didn't wash the smile off his face.

Astarion didn't ease up. At dinner he asked Lae'zel about washing up and whether she was their 'dishyanki' which earned him pot washing duties for the rest of the week. No matter how much he complained about not actually using any of the equipment, the whole camp seemed in agreement he needed to atone for his terrible jokes. At least Gale was more than happy to accompany him to the quiet spot with the flat rock that plates could dry on. And maybe the dishes weren't the only thing getting wet, something which Astarion's dick very much approved of (so did Astarion but that wasn't something he was ready to think about yet).

Trading with the woman wanting the githyanki egg was fortuitous. They had all been carrying rather a lot of scavenged wares they had no use for. To be able to offload it all was a relief. Until Astarion spied a ring in the woman's wares. Trying to bargain for it hadn't worked, neither had he managed to pickpocket her much to his frustration. Determined to get the ring, even if it was outside of his means, Astarion did the only thing he could.

"Lae'zel," he said in a singsong voice. "I know you plan on leaving this plane as soon as we're successful in our mission. Having all that gold would only weigh you down, it would be useless to you in the Astral Planes where you'll fight glorious battles."

"Spit it out."

"I don't suppose I could pretty please alleviate you of such a heavy burden?" Astarion paused, fluttering his lashes. At the lack of reply he shrugged. "No? I could make it up to you in other ways." Hearing that made Gale's heart clench. "Just think, I am a dab hand with swords, I could sharpen yours each day for a tenday. Consider it a loan maybe? I'd pay you back whatever you gave. And with interest! What say you? Be my githbanky?"

Lae'zel marched away from him without dignifying a response. Pouting, Astarion tried to play off his disappointment as over the top dramatics. That evening through, he couldn't hold back the surprised little "ooh" as he spotted the much coveted ring on his bedroll. His eyes met Lae'zel's but neither of them said anything.

Any worries Gale had about Lae'zel's intentions towards Astarion were laid to rest that same evening when she rather loudly and in a prolonged manner claimed Shadowheart as her own. Come morning, sat around for a snack of nuts and fruits, Astarion leaned into Shadowheart's personal space.

"So, you played githyanky?" A glare was his answer but he was undeterred. "Guess you must be on best behaviour or you'll get a githspanky."

"I wouldn't let her hear you say all that," Shadowheart replied airly. "She can get quite irate when tired. Let's just say she stayed up very late last night."

"Oh I know. I think we all heard." Not missing a beat, Astarion bumped his shoulder against hers. "We'll blame you for the githcranky."

A blade was under his throat and lifting his chin to turn away from Shadowheart. Lae'zel glared down at him. With zero sense of self-preservation, Astarion let out a giggle.

"Oooh. A githshanky!"

The flat of the blade smacked gently against his pale cheek before it was dropped back down. Lae'zel seemed to feel she'd made her point and turned away, already fully armoured and ready for the day. Her head turned as he looked at Astarion with a crinkle at the corner of her eye as though smiling.

"No. A githpranky."

[teecupangel]

If anyone is wondering how things are going for Desmond in Faerun, he got sidetracked finding the tea on the druid 'leader' and got in a middle of some kind of Hanzel and Grethel BS in the swamp. Got into a long ass fight because he didn't want to kill the controlled people so that means no magic or ranged attack or throws for the final strike (and having to calculate the damages just to be sure).

Then we beat the crap out of the hag but she begged mercy from Shadowheart and Shadowheart agreed only if the hag leaves both the +1 item and the woman. (Desmond might be rethinking letting Shadowheart be the unofficial second in command)

Oh and Desmond gave a grieving woman a wand that resurrected her husband into a zombie because he was too surprised when her husband was resurrected into a zombie in the first place.

Gale and Karlach seemed to approve of his actions so maybe there is hope for the zombified husband in Baldur's Gate???

(I don't know what happened but we returned to the mind controlled masked people but one of them is missing. We did take off their masks and this time they didn't die so I guess the masks had to be taken off after the hag died. And no, we have not gotten to the goblin's camp at all.)

[dincrypt]

Hush

Summary: Din needs sleep, but it’ll take a bit of coaxing.

Content: Just sleepy fluff

He was rolling his shoulders again.

It was the closest thing to a tell Din possessed, and had taken you almost a year with him to decipher. He never yawned. Not that you had seen, anyway. Never complained. But the moment you noticed him straightening his posture, rolling his shoulders back as though it were nothing more than a stretch, you knew Din was exhausted.

All it took was a rut. Normally, he was wise enough to recognize when he needed sleep, and responsible enough to take it. He’d shed his armor, wrap himself around you in the warmth of your shared bunk, and soon be letting out the soft snores that lulled your own eyes into slumber.

Occasionally though, sleep was denied to him for one reason or another. An uncooperative quarry. A necessary but especially long haul through sub light. It didn’t matter what it was, the moment Din was denied his regular dose of rest, suddenly sleep was jettisoned off his priority list, and he was impossible.

Now, his tell was slipping through the cracks, thinly disguised amongst smaller unnecessary movements as he fiddled among the ship, tinkering with circuits that were in perfect working order. You looked up from Grogu’s bed, having finally coaxed him to sleep. Your eye roll went unnoticed by Din.

“Why don’t you get some rest?” You suggested softly.

‘Huh?” He mumbled without looking up from a very important lighting rig, imperative to the function of exactly six green and red buttons.

“I said you need some rest,” you tried again, crossing the hull to touch his pauldron softly. “Come lay down.”

“Oh. That’s alright, I’m not tired.”

You nearly let a laugh slip. You managed to turn it into a sigh, knowing the former would only aggravate him. “Well I’m tired. And you know I sleep better when you’re with me. Won’t you come lay with me, just for a bit?”

That, apparently, was more palatable. His frame drooped and you knew you had him. “Well…I suppose if it’ll help you…”

“It will. Absolutely.”

“Ok then…”

You led him away from the oh-so-vital light circuits and helped him remove his armor. This had always been one of your favorite things about your husband, getting to see his warrior exterior stripped away, leaving you with the soft man you knew and loved underneath. He was fully capable of doing it himself, of course. He had for years. But you loved to be the one to slip it off piece by piece, feeling his muscles relax beneath your touch. He knew this, so he let you.

You left his helmet for last, knowing he preferred to remove it himself. Once the last piece of metal was off his body, you brought him to bed.

Despite his earlier argument, he practically melted into the mattress. Your heart swelled as Din crawled over to you and laid his head on your chest without hesitation. His arm draped over your stomach as one of your hands stroked his back, the other climbing into his hair.

You had marveled at it a million times, and you would no doubt do so a million more, because you would never quite get over the fact that a battle hardened Mandalorian, who everyone saw as a merciless killer, trusted and loved you enough to relax in your arms and go to sleep. You were one of only two beings in the universe who could touch him without consequence.

He began to mumble. Another thing he did when exhaustion got the best of him.

“I love you so much…”

“I know. I love you too. Go to sleep.” You continued to run your fingers through his hair, soft and thick.

“You’re so warm.”

“So are you.”

“And so sweet.”

You chuckled, drawing your hand down to stroke his cheek with two gentle fingers. “Go to sleep my love.”

“M’trying…”

“No you’re not, you’re talking.”

“Mm…”

He slowly fell into silence, his breath deepening. You listened for the onset of snores. Before they came, he spoke again,

“You didn’t kiss me.”

You held a sigh. “What?”

“Kiss me…you didn’t…you always kiss me goodnight…”

You stroked his hair again, fingers digging softly in his scalp. “You’re too tired love, just sleep.”

“Can’t…” his voice was muffled in your chest, “Can’t until you kiss me…”

Your eyes rolled with a gentle smile. “Then come up here and get it I suppose.”

He raised his head, but his eyes stayed closed. He didn’t lean up, apparently lacking the energy. Instead he simply lulled his head to the side and presented his pursed lips. You grinned and craned your neck down to give him a soft peck on the mouth.

Instead of laying back down, he whined. “Another?”

“No,” you breathed through a laugh. “Go to sleep.”

“Mmmmm,” he complained, brow furrowing over still-closed eyes. “Please?”

“Huuuh…Maker…”

You humored him, lingering a little longer in hopes of satisfying him this time. It either worked or he lost the energy to hold his head up, because his face planted back into your chest. Your heart warmed with a mixture of love and mirth as you compared this sleepy eyed boy, begging for kisses, to the blood stained hunter who had shot down a quarry mere hours ago. Sometimes it felt like you were married to two different people.

You continued to work your fingers down his back with smooth, rhythmic strokes, humming softly. Your other hand ran down his hair to the nape of his neck, playing with the soft locks there. Din’s breathing gradually deepened, then slowed. But you knew he wasn’t asleep yet.

“Love you…” he murmured, “So much, darling…love you…love you…”

You tilted your head down to kiss his hair. “Sssh, I love you too. Sleep.”

“So warm…so soft…love you…”

The last syllable faded and you felt his mumbling lips finally come to a stop. Not a moment later, his soft and shallow snores graced your ears. You held him a little tighter, echoing his words of adoration as sleep finally overtook you.

[laurfilijames]

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

---

The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

---

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[katsumox]

hihi!! idk if ur reqs are still open but :,) thinking about jason coming back from a really bad patrol, like he's all bloody and bruised and shit. cleaning him up even when he insists he's fine and kissing his bruises, just like a lot of comfort. sorry if this makes no sense LMAOO i've never requested something before!! tysm for reading have a nice day <33

thank u for the request my love !!!!!! reqs for jason r always open<333

this is roommate!verse because hngghhhhhh okay anyways !

“Oh honey, I’m home,” a sarcastic modulated voice rings out from the balcony. You don’t even have to look up from your spot on the couch to know it’s Jason.

“Don’t ask me where the redheads are,”he continues, “Thing one and two are off doing… fuck if I know.”

His voice is tight with irritation and poorly disguised pain as he all but limps into the living room.

Your eyes widen at his state before your mind settles into work mode.

“Shirt. Off now,” you say, jogging to the bathroom for the med kit stashed under the sink.

“No warm welcome, huh,” Jason teases as he tosses his helmet to the ground. He hisses as he tugs off his shirt, exposing the bruise-littered expanse of his musculature.

“I’m fine,” he rumbles, “No life threatening cuts or nothin’. Just…” he trails off with a sigh as you apply the cold antiseptic to his wounds.

He shuts himself up, despite the quiet whines of discomfort clawing at his throat. He watches you work as he fights the urge to snake a hand around your waist and keep you there, pressed snugly into him.

“Just one more,” you mutter, tapping at the gash near his jaw, “Wonder Woman bandaid?” You ask, looking up at him with those big doe eyes.

He grunts in confirmation, eyes flitting from your form to something off in the distance.

“Let me kiss it better,” You coo as you press the bandaid to his jaw.

Jason frowns as he looks around the apartment’s living room. It’s dark and empty, save for the two of you.

“Thought we couldn’t do the whole PDA thing in shared spaces,” he rumbles, a smirk playing on his lips, “You’re breaking the rules.”

“Fuck rules,” You hum, “No one gives a shit about rules.”

You press a kiss to Jason’s jaw, right next to the bandaid.

“Fuck rules,” Jason parrots, slinging his strong arms across your hips.

You kiss the J shaped scar on his face before standing on your tip toes to let your lips ghost the yellowing bruise under his eye.

He exhales, watching you intently as you press feathery kisses down his bruised neck and collarbones.

His eyes stay glued to your lips as you kiss the now-scarring wound on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jason airily murmurs to no one in particular, “No one gives a shit about rules.”

[sanemisstalker]

Homie I don't know if you've considered writing a part 2 for the incel Gyutaro modern! Au scenario cause it legit rewired something in my brain ajskaj 🤒💕- he's like a weird bug that's fun to poke and watch em S Q U I R M ah, I love it.

Like I can see later on y/n has an indirect impact on him even though it's a casual thing- like, telling him his cum taste bitter af and it convinces him to eat better if it means he'll keep getting head (toss in more regular showers in there now that I think about it) . Would also wonder how his sis would react to them hanging out-? 🤔

If it's not in your plans that's alright- either way, it gave me the strength to write for him and I am thankful for the food 🛐

Guess what this post is!!!! I was saving this ask so I could post part 2 with it or whateverrrr. I'm so giggle that so many people are interacting with that post, I didn't expect it to get such good reception!!

Also also, I do plan to write about how this Gyutaro definitely still raised his sister and is a bang up brother in spite of these mentalities he has! I have another ask that wants me to elaborate, and I'm planning on just making a big headcanon thing for him!!

PART ONE <-

CW// FEM READER// AFAB// BREASTED / Dub-con/Non-con (Gyutaro does something sexual under the guise he'll get laid, undiscussed BDSM dynamic)/ Panic Attack/ Vomit (not in a sex way) / Piss (kinda in a sex way)/ Sexism/ Incel mentalities/ Toxic Masculinity / Forced Bisexuality / BDSM dynamics / I say 'skullfuck' at one point / Gyutaro is reffered to as a toilet.

-Incel!Gyutaro's eyes had never even grazed a real dance floor, but there he was, at the big name club you'd dropped the location of 30 minutes ago. He'd hopped on his bike and sped there in what could only be called desperation.

-There wasn't a wait like in the movies. Not a big long line, and they let him in in his baggy jeans and stupid fucking Nietzsche shirt. He hadn't even realized he'd brought his bike helmet in until he was tossing it between his shaking, filthy hands.

-There were so many people. All of them taking their sweet time to gawk at his height and face. This was why he didn't leave the dorm. That and the abhorrent, terminally 2011 music.

-The photo had pissed him off. Bad. He'd come with the intention of a rematch (in your honor or whatever, he's not cringe enough to say that, though) and he planned to leave with you clinging to him like you were supposed to be.

-and obviously you were because there you were, hanging off Tengen Uzui's naturally bulging muscles with those 3 other mindless sluts. Not giving a fuck in the world about him or that skanky photo you sent.

-You were hard to spot in your slut disguise.

-You looked like every other girl there, and that pissed him off even worse, in a way. He had deluded himself into thinking you were good. Into thinking you were different from other females because you knew the bands and the movies, and you agreed when he implied that genetically you were just dumber-

-'Gyutaro!' You'd screech out as you locked eyes with the man. In the dark of the club, with the neon purple strobing over him, he looked almost daunting. With his helmet on one hip, and phone dangling from his other hand, Gyutaro had something similar to a western charm.

-You'd pop off of Tengen, who would only lift his head up to register the man, and then turn back to his girlfriends.

-The whole reason for their fight had been rather trivial, Gyutaro assumed, but, despite his lax appearance, Tengen did everything in his power not to smash the man's own helmet back over his head.

-He feared, along with Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, for your safety as you barreled into the man.

-You'd run into them with a new found confidence that night. After leaving Gyutaro in his sorry state, bounding up to the three women was far less intimidating. Almost like you shared a comraderie with them-

-and you had! The three were incredibly nice and immediately ushered you to Tengen where you all began to get a long in a picturesque fashion.

-You looked good. Hanging onto his arm with the other women felt good- You just had to take a photo.

-Gyutaro was going to panic. Tengen Uzui didn't scare him anymore, but that immediate jump from Tengen's arms to his, he didn't know how to satisfy that expectation.

-Of course he was better than Tengen- but on a "purely physical" level, he knew he would never have the stamina or prowess to conquer the bodies of three women at once.

-Especially not when he couldn't even fathom conquering you.

-'Ah, is this who you were talking about?' Tengen asked. You laughed in response, nodding with verve. Your body was beginning to shift against him- fuck-

-'Mhm, Gyutaro's my best friend.' You slurred, and it occurred to Gyutaro then, that you might be slighty inebriated. God, Tengen had an awful effect on you.

-His heart thudded at the words 'best friend' Despite your light and teasing cadence, were you friendzoning him? Would you just fuck any friend you had? Not that you fucked him- but you totally fucked him-

-'Oh?' Tengen sang in that stupid fucking tone that made Gyutaro want to rip off that girly fucking headband he wore. 'Have you slept with him?'

-Makio slapped Tengen's shoulder.

-'No, no- Not yet.' Gyutaro was panicking, now. Yet? Yet? You were planning to fuck hi-

-'Be careful.' Tengen sang. And that should've been the end of his thought, but maybe the drink he had was doing more than he expected, because Tengen couldn't fight the grin nor the words that spilled from his mouth after-

-'Tell him to try and last longer this time.'

-Gyutaro saw red, and blue, and maybe it was because of the weed air or the sex musk permeating past the bar- Maybe it was the anger he had at you for sharing such a thing about him- maybe it was because He'd been holding his breathe and plotting Tengen's downfall, and now he was-

-Who was he kidding, Gyutaro was going to fucking barf. The stress was too much, and his stomach rolled in response. He'd never been exposed to such an environment, or such an embarassment, and all he knew to do was turn away and try to keep it down until he got to the bathroom.

-'That was so mean!' Suma cried out as Gyutaro trudged away, attempt at disguising his mood futile. 'You made him cry!'

-'He literally called you a slut to your face at the start of the semester. What the fuck do you mean, mean?' Makio barked.

-You were in one of the gross stalls, pulling his scraggly black hair away from the rancid bowl. You weren't sure how he ate so much and still stayed so twig thin. He'd been puking for at least ten minutes.

-'I didn't expect you to come here.' You lied, having very much intended for that outcome. 'You think Tengen Uzui remembers every drunken, horny story he gets from a woman?'

-He was mortified. The idea that Tengen specifically knew something so intimate about him made him hear colors. Red colors. He was hearing the club lighting and seething at the red blur of the motion sensor on the toilet-

-The tile felt like splinters.

-'W-Why did you tell him that?' Gyutaro gasped out between spills. The question lacked his usual grit. It sounded genuine and hurt.

-He nodded lamely and went to drop his face onto the porcelain, but your hand swooped down.

-Your palm against his marred face was soothing. Lifting his head up from the toilet bowl, you wiped his mouth off with toilet paper.

-His heart fluttered. What a girlish emotion he was feeling.

-'I'm sorry.' You whispered and only semi meant it. Some of the things he said about women in the past months could've definitely validated such treatment. Some of the comments were bordering on illegal, others on beyond morally questionable.

-'It's okay.' He slurred, moving away from your hand to try and stop that flutter. You were quick to find his scar again, and, with hesitance losing to need, he rubbed against your palm.

-Cat. The word shot through your head and then retreated. No, no. A mangy cat. A cat with mange. Rabies, maybe even.

-'I wasn't crying or any-' as he began to speak, you pulled a small bottle of mouth wash out from your bag.

-'Tip your head back.' Gyutaro cut off his sentence and did as you said. The burn of the wash was painful. As he went to spit it out, you pressed a finger to his lips.

-'You get a gift if you can keep it in for the full minute.'

-It hurt. Gyutaro can't remember the last time he brushed his teeth, but the burn in his gums said he should do it more. He managed, though, and you followed through by pulling a tooth brush from your bag.

-Gyutaro had seen this plot before, in a hentai, probably, but he'd always imagined himself probing some innocent sweet trad girl's mouth with a tooth brush. Not being probed.

-You scrubbed plague off his teeth with precise intensity. His gums bled, and he whined. His jaw would occasionally stutter, and he'd bite down with enough force that you feared for your toothbrush.

-Another pass at the mouth wash and Gyutaro stared up at you, puffy lipped and teary eyed. You hadn't necessarily been gentle, nor had you avoided his gag reflex, but you leaned down to Gyutaro.

-His natural huffiness now had a pleasant bubblegum scent.

-When you pulled the vibrator from your pussy, Gyutaro nearly puked again. He hadn't noticed it in your sneaky photo, so seeing you hike your leg up on the toilet seat and pluck it from your insides made him see stars.

-Had you had that in the entire time? Had you told the other girls? Had you told Tengen?

-You dropped the vibrator into his lap. Not in his pants, not intentionally near his dick- on his lap. Gyutaro had taken on an all too natural kneeling position, and you dropped the vibe between the small gap of his thighs.

-Dull buzzing bounced up his thighs, vibratons too far to feel- And then you were pressing your cunt against his face, and he was taking in the scent of your pubes-

-He had been told that eating a woman out was a sign of submission. Got told it'd be gross, and to only do it when the situation was dire. And a situation with a female should never become dire- Having someone's genitals forced in his face like this-

-Gyutaro loved the smell of your pussy. The taste. His hands took to your thighs immediately, one slipping back to find the meat of your ass and bury his fingers in it.

-It would surprise you, how right he looked snug between your thighs. How his eyes fluttered back when he forgot he wasn't really supposed to be into this kind of thing.

-You could remember all of the things he said about vaginas. It often left you contemplating whether or not he found women attractive to begin with, but with his tongue rolling so naturally against your clit, you couldn't question it.

-He was made for this, both of you figured. Your warmth against his palate was ball tightening. He immediately took to it. You'd never seen such enthusiasm and love shown to your cunt.

-'Fuckkkkkk-' He'd moan, but with his tongue flat against you it came out in drool. His spit spilled onto his jean clad thighs, uncaring about anything other than eating you out.

-With his back against the toilet, and your hands gripping his hair, if you saw it from the back, it'd look like you were skullfucking the man. The thought made Gyutaro's already raging hard on twitch-

-And that's exactly how Tengen saw it when he opened the stall.

-'Oh?' He said, and you felt Gyutaro's grip tighten around your thighs. Today was just humiliation after humiliation, wasn't it? He knew by the stupid sing-song tone of the voice exactly who'd invaded his time with you.

-Black pulsed the corners of his vision.

-'Ah, Tengen-' You tried to keep your voice steady- not willing to let yourself be intimidated by a man his size in such a situation. Not infront of Gyutaro. He didn't need real life experience to back up forum rumors.

-'Can I use this toilet?' He nodded down to Gyutaro, and you looked down to the man between your thighs, a bit shocked by the ask.

- Gyutaro would pull off your cunt fast, wide eyed and all teeth.

-'What the fuck did you just s-' You lodged your fingers down his throat, Gyutaro gagging hurtfully against them. His eyes rolled back. He didn't know why having his mouth fucked with felt so good. It'd never felt this good when he was alone-

-'When I cum, yeah.' And Gyutaro was back on your pussy, a sudden fear lighting his movements. You wouldn't really let Tengen do that to him, right?

-Why was he depending on you, a woman, to prevent that? He should just get up and kick his ass- Tengen would have an advan...advantage.... an-

-Fuck your pussy was mind numbing. Fuck whatever Tengen wanted to do to him. He needed that juice.

-Gyutaro chased your orgasm. You were only slightly dissapointed he didn't cum with you- didn't show Tengen how good he could be. A part of you wanted to impress Tengen- to show off a little bit. Show what you tamed. Even if that taming was still very early in the works-

-When you came, Gyutaro smiled wide against your pussy. You pulled back with shaking legs and his head in your hands and he looked at you like Tengen wasn't pulling his cock from his boxers just centimeters away.

-'Just want your pussy, I need your pussy-' He slurred while you starred down at him.

-'If you drink it, I'll let you fuck me-' His ears would begin ringing. Shocked by his own actions, Gyutaro found his jaw unhinged, taking Tengen's flaccid cock down his throat.

-Maybe it was easier for him to accept because Gyutaro never dealt with penis envy. The two men were surprisingly matched. How unfortunate. You really wanted to see how Gyutaro would react to a cock that much bigger-

-Tengen took advantage of the willing hole, rocking his hips a bit much to Gyutaro's anger.

-'If you bite me, I'll drown you. Don't want to die with your head in a toilet, eh, Shabana?' Tengen taunted, sensing the upset from his thighs.

-You watched as Gyutaro's adam apple surged, and Tengen's head dropped back in relief. It was more than Gyutaro could take, obviously, because it began spilling from the corners of his mouth and onto his Neitzsche shirt.

-Gyutaro's face burnt red, and he reeked like piss. Tengen gave the other man's face a light, almost appreciative slap.

-As Tengen pulled out, a rush of piss came spilling onto the floor. He wasn't done though, a guiding hand locking around Gyutaro's jaw to tip his head up. The trickle was backed by the music blurring outside.

-His flow came to a stop, and he carefully shut Gyutaro's mouth. Gyutaro looked over at you with tired eyes.

-You nodded, and he swallowed.

-'Atta boy.'

-With Tengen's exit, you looked down at Gyutaro, dripping and still woefully hard. You pulled his messy hair back into a ponytail once more.

-'oh honey... when did I say you'd be fucking me tonight?'

-'Do I- Do I get to fuck you now?' He'd croak, trying to ignore the completely beer ridden piss on his lips. You looked at him so pathetically. It made his cock ache even worse than it already did.

-He could tell he wasn't going to get what he wanted before you even opened your mouth.

[captain-mj]

So I got an idea I need to share-

Banshee Soap? I know Banshees are technically female but I'm just in love with the idea of Soap being a banshee in disguise and him having to reveal that in order to save Ghost or something-

Sorry I just needed to share this :)

I love this!! Sure! I feel it fix October vibes.

Ghost had heard the wailing of the spirits before. They were there the night Roba buried him alive. Howling and screaming at him. Wanting to get to him.

They had silenced once he had burst out of the dirt, but they had watched. He had no proof. Had not seen a damn thing. But he knew something was out there observing him. They had watched him shake each bug off of his skin.

He had heard men talk about the war as an entity. A being that screamed and called people to their deaths. Maybe they had been crazy. Ghost preferred that thought. Quite a bit actually.

But another part liked the guarantee that he wouldn't be dying alone. That no matter what, something would be out there for him. Watching him. Observing him.

Tonight, on this roof, he accepted that he'd hear those spirits again.

Soap sat next to him, guarding the entrances so Ghost could try to snipe who he could in relative safety. Someone kept trying to snipe him back, but they had just managed to hit the lip of the roof so far. But they were moving, making it hard to pinpoint where they were.

There were too many people. They weren't going to last forever. Ghost was running out of bullets. Soap's gun didn't have the range. The element of surprise had been lost hours ago.

He sighed. His biggest regret would be that Soap was going to die along with him.

Ghost refused to show fear though. "Just keep shooting Johnny. We'll get out of here."

Soap smiled at him. "Course we will, Lt. You're doi-"

A gunshot whizzed past their ears and Ghost quickly got back on his sniper. He sent a gunshot right through him, watching them fall down. Not the one that was moving, but they were a little safer. Ghost slowly let out a breath and relaxed.

Soap hesitated and looked at Ghost. "Lt?"

"Don't look at me like that. Just keep watching."

Soap frowned at him.

Someone whistled. Low and long.

Ghost heard the spirits.

"You religious, Johnny?"

"No."

"Neither am I. Guess neither of is going to pray."

Soap hesitated, stepping a little closer. "Sim-"

That sniper Ghost had been fighting with. The bullet went straight him. Blood splattered on the ground.

Soap stumbled but he didn't fall. He just stood there, blood dripping down. The next bullet went through his head and Ghost covered his face.

He didn't want to see.

How selfish.

But he didn't want to see.

The spirits. They screamed so loud and so long. Ghost scrambled to cover his ears and he tried to breath. Something was wrong. There was so much blood on the roof. It had to be an inch thick and it kept coming.

Ghost tried to stand up but the moment he wasn't covering his ears, pain would lance through him. The sound tried to drive itself all the way into his skull. Clawing his eardrums and worming its way into his brain until his temples were pounding.

The glass on his helmet fully shattered and Ghost started to scream himself. Anything to drown out the noise.

It started to hit him that Johnny was dead.

His partner.

His best friend.

Ghost screamed louder. Until the earth itself felt like it was tearing.

His hands felt wet.

Slowly, he started to pull his hands away, planning to just let his eardrums bust. Maybe let his brain hemorrhage.

Hands grabbed his and slammed them back over his ears. Someone straddled him, head butting against his so their foreheads sat together.

Ghost squeezed his eyes tighter and waited.

Time moved like honey through his fingers. Slow and languid but steady.

"Simon."

Ghost took a steady breath.

"Johnny?"

Soap was pressed them closer together. "Just breath. Your head must be killing you."

Ghost opened his eyes.

Soap was there. Gorgeous, but not solid.

Ghost stared.

"Sorry about that, Lt. Didn't mean to hurt you. Just keep your ears covered and keep your eyes on me."

Ghost shook his head slowly and looked.

Bodies. Dozens. Helmets shattered. Blood pooling out of the orifices in their face.

He tasted blood, realizing it was his own. Judging by the sun, hours had passed.

Ghost swallowed and shivered, feeling an intense cold.

Soap stood up, feet barely touching the ground. "Don't tell Price. Please."

"Kill me if I do?"

"Nae. Could never kill you Ghostie." Soap carefully helped Ghost get his helmet off. Broken shards of it falling out. He watched him lift his mask up and then off, blood smearing. "Let me get the blood out of your hair."

Ghost nodded and sipped the canteen of water he had on hand. Soap gently started to get the blood out of his hair. Gentle and loving. He kissed Ghost's forehead. "I'm sorry for hurting you. Are you okay?"

Ghost had a lot of feelings. Okay was not one of them.

"Yeah, I'm fine. What are you?"

"Banshee. There's a reason I never had a problem clearing out places when I was alone." Soap gently combed his fingers through his hair. "You're okay. I promise."

Ghost nodded and took a deep breath. "I'm okay..."

"You're okay." Soap said softly. "Try not to do this since usually it kills my companions but... I was pretty sure you'd be fine."

"Was dead anyway."

"Exactly. I had to take the risk. You'd either die or... maybe not die." Soap smiled at him.

Ghost nodded. "Glad you took the chance. Even if my ears are still ringing."

Soap laughed and offered his hand to help him up. They both stared for a moment.

Ghost realized he didn't have his mask and it must've showed.

"Don't worry. No living humans for miles. You're perfectly safe."

"There's you."

"Yeah. There's me."

Ghost took a deep breath, feeling it shudder in his chest. "anything I should know about banshees?"

"To see them usually brings misfortune, but I turned that off for you."

"Touching you is... fine?"

"Yeah, of course. Nothing different from before today."

Ghost nodded and slowly reached up. Soap went solid again beneath his fingers. He gently trailed his fingers over his cheek, smearing the blood.

Soap leaned up and kissed his cheek.

"Simon, we should be going. This is going to be hard to explain."

Ghost nodded and followed him.

He was pretty sure he'd never quite get rid of the tinnitus.

[prince-kallisto]

Crowley Levan is Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband”…wouldn’t it be cool if the one who married into the Draconia family had a crown/headpiece that resembled horns, worn for ceremonies, public appearances and the like?!

We haven’t seen Levan yet but I know in my heart he’s just a silly little guy as long as you ignore The Killings 💞

I talk more about concept art and costume details below the cut!

Levan’s headpiece is designed to have more of a live-action Maleficent feel, where she wrapped her horns in…fabric? Snakeskin? Whatever it was, it looked really shiny, oily, and really cool, so I tried to depict that texture to show how his horns are fake.

And sort of elaborating on the Draconia crown idea, perhaps each crown from every ruler who married into the family has its own unique shape? Levan’s halo-like shape is unique to him, so ones before him perhaps had more “traditional” dragon-like horns, and others had twisting ones like a sheep, etc etc. Since I’m OBSESSED with TWSTs religious symbolism- the Dawn Knight popped off with that winged helmet- I also wanted a halo shape to make Levan look slightly angelic.

The beads on his horns were slightly inspired by the mianguan, a formal headdress worn in ancient China. He also wears nail guards covered in shiny jewels… Let him be extra ✨

Levan having wings over his eyes like the Dawn Knight would be a fun parallel, and as a reference to him being Meleanor’s “eyes, limbs, and husband.” Like I mentioned in the comic, he covers his eyes and disguises his body under bulky clothing to be publicly dramatic af 😭 he takes his title way too seriously haha. The idea is that when he isn’t around Meleanor, he sheds his mask so he can report what he sees to Meleanor. But when he is with her, he “blinds” himself as a demonstration of trust. I’m sure he can actually detect his surroundings very well despite the mask- he just likes to play around and act dumb to make Lilia and Meleanor laugh haha. I haven’t thought much about the clothes under his cape, but I imagine it’s very like Malleus’ masquerade outfit. Something very streamlined and agile in case he has to enter a sudden battle or fly into the air.

And with my concept art, he was meant to have the shoulder feathers like Crowley and Malleus! They were like pauldrons covered in feathers. But when I was working on the final piece, I spontaneously changed it to fit the sketch for something more flowing and bulky haha. In my head, this bigger cape has a more “General” vibe to it? Something that draws your attention when Levan walks into a war room! Speaking of, I really love the fantasy-vibe of the costumes in Book 7- I feel like I can really go all out with Levan’s costume if the Dawn Knight is allowed to have a helmet like that!

This was super last minute in the painting process, but I’d like the inside of his cape to have constellations and stars all over it! I tried to draw the Corvus, Crater, and Hydra on the visible parts of his cape.

I prefer painting with ink far better than acrylic or even watercolor…so doing this in mostly black and white inspired me to give Levan porcelain-like skin, shading his skin almost like he was a doll and not a person. I think about how Diablo in Sleeping Beauty was turned into stone, so it’s meant to be a bit like marble too

I imagine Levan to have long, wispy hair that resembles briars and a bit like live action Aurora from Maleficent. Its very striking how he’s repeatedly described as “beautiful,” and although short hair is very beautiful in its own right, something about his mysteriousness and beauty gives me Aurora vibes specifically. Speaking of, Book 7 seems to be more obvious with combining elements from the original Sleeping Beauty and the live action Maleficent. Perhaps Silver could be the OG Aurora, but I can still give Levan live-action Aurora’s pretty hair haha.

When he wears his headdress and cape, he has his hair pinned up in the back. I’d like to draw my interpretation of Levan more in the future so you can see how his hair would look when it’s all down or in a ponytail. Perhaps Raven-Fae do more elaborate hairstyles that incorporates jewels/shiny things into their hair? Also, this inspiration is VERY specific haha, but if you ever read or watched Cardcaptor Sakura, Nadeshiko’s hair is very close to how I imagine his hair to be- very full and flowing! (Cardcaptor Sakura’s aesthetic snatched me up many years ago and has never let go since haha)

I don’t know, I just think it’s really cool yet ironic that Meleanor and Lilia talk about Levan as someone whose a crybaby, kind, beautiful, airheaded, but then Lilia casually drops that Levan is one of the top generals, an extremely skilled diplomat, and battled the DAWN KNIGHT and survived, when even Lilia hasn’t at that point. So I thought it would be fun if he had angelic themes in his outfit, while still making it clear that he’s dangerous.

Whoops this got pretty long! ∑(ﾟДﾟ) Haha, I think I like sharing my designs- not for the art it self but just to ramble about my entire thought process/inspiration/details! Although I try to get better at depicted all these ideas through the art itself, I can’t help but want to talk about it haha

[dearanakin]

"Be Safe" - Anakin Skywalker x human f!Reader

Summary: You're an ordinary human fighting against the Sith alongside with Obi-Wan Kenobi. While being kept hostage by Anakin, you try to break down his armor of rage.

Notes: Crastyne is a fictional planet. I love the idea of energy and magnetic feelings 😭 Raging Anakin is so painful and making eye color transition is more painful!

Notes¹: Let me know if you all would like a part 2!!

Warning: Pretty much none, just a small fight scene, mention of injuries and a little fluff

Word count: 3.8k

next chapter

🪐🪐🪐

There is something about not being a Jedi or even any sort of galactical person that makes you fear going to wars to defend your own.

Even the slightest usage of the blaster makes you feel uncomfortable when you're around them, even if they're willing to protect you, knowing you can't protect yourself.

There's also a reason why you don't become a Jedi yourself, because they're specifically being extinct and you're not going to sacrifice yourself that way.

You were rethinking your life when you came to the realization that being amongst troopers from your group, blasting against mostly the Sith. One of them being Anakin Skywalker, who not only was once Palpatine's apprentice, but also the one who as leading the attack.

Behind Obi-Wan, you could barely see the incoming, as he made sure none of them got through you. But you were surrounded by a few Jedi's and could hardly be discovered as some ordinary woman.

You sure can use your black belt perks, because usually that's what you come up with when you're facing someone stronger. But maybe you couldn't use that to your favor if you were ever to stand in front of Anakin. It's not like Obi-Wan would ever let that happen.

You've thought this through every single day, he made sure he would stand by you all the way through. You had extra blasters if you needed to, even.

But nothing prepared you for the moment Skywalker came behind you, just in time for a few of his own took Kenobi away from you. You were face to face to the evil himself, he seemed to be seven feet tall compared to your size.

He grabbed you by the neck and raised you from the floor, not squeezing your skin just yet. His dilated pupils and red eyes were just staring intensely at you, that frown holding his gaze against you.

"Pathetic woman", he said as he was still holding you up. "How dare you come to this war against us and defend the Jedi?".

He wasn't even himself anymore, he was already been taken to the dark side. His glowing red eyes made sure you recognized that. He was still a good-looking guy, with pretty curly hair and fading blue eyes.

But corrupted. Corrupted by the man he was supposed to fight against. His fear of losing someone made him angrier. He was selfish, greedy and aggressive.

He didn't even have to see you through your helmet to know you're a woman, and he can sense your fear, which you disguised with repulse.

"You're not gonna win this fight", you held him by his wrists, knowing he was too strong to let go of. When he tried squeezing your neck, you wrapped your legs around his torso, shaking him down suddenly.

He tripped on his foot and you got rid of his grip. You blasted against him, but Anakin used his metal hand to shield himself and it ricocheted.

You ran only for a few feet and he insisted on tackling you down on the floor. He could've used his force against you, but he was willing to knock you down. Obi-wan was nowhere to be seen.

"You're such a petulant person. Your confidence is disturbing", Skywalker pulled you against his grip as he dragged you out of the fight, leading you to somewhere else.

You've realized he was taking you to Coruscant, where you learned it was the capital of the Republic. He got rid of your Trooper outfit and left you cuffed on his ship while he was piloting.

For the entire trip he didn't even say a word to you, only staring at you at some point, through his rearview.

When he arrived at the planet, he managed to still hold you hostage, mostly because that way he knew Kenobi would find you and save you from him.

It was his way of telling the Jedi their best Master got himself into a definite war against his enemy.

He dropped you in a cell, watching as you retracted yourself into a corner. It was only then you realized he was feeling confrontation with himself. He was still in an anger phase, which was slowly turning him into Vader.

His cold way of showing attitude, the dark shadow flickering against his eyes, made you see how much he was actually in pain inside.

After a while, which you had no idea how much time had passed, you could hear Anakin speak in a low tone with someone, probably Palpatine.

He would just agree and not say too many words, when you would hear his footsteps getting closer, you'd brace yourself.

But he actually never got near you anymore since he left you in the cell. You were starving, you were tense, you were tired and sleepy. There was only one sheet and a very uncomfortable pillow to lie on.

You tried contacting Kenobi using your mind and your feelings, but you only annoyed the newly Sith, who showed up not a minute later after your first try.

"If you try that one more time, I'll slice you up", he demanded. His voice was husky and held a deepness you've never heard before.

"Then do it, you'll never find him again", you responded. It actually made him become feral, trying to choke you with his force.

The advantage of him being so powerful is that he didn't need to get closer to you. He would just stand there and have you around his force.

He dropped you on the floor and you gasped for air. Your airway was almost crushed and it was harder to breathe now.

Anakin pointed his index finger at you, his red-blue eyes were so desperate for power. At the same time, it was showing off pain. Too much pain.

"Let go of that anger, Skywalker. You're in pain", you said before he could speak first. "Whatever happened to you, just let that go".

"You don't know shit about me", he retorted. You just woke the beast inside him. Anakin could be worse than he really shows when he's mad.

How was he so sure of that when more than half of the Universe has heard about him before? The once great Jedi apprentice who gave up on his good side.

You scoffed, making him wrinkle his forehead in response. "You were Obi-Wan's best apprentice, you know that? I've worked with him thousands of times before you raged. You don't know shit about me".

Anakin just examined you from head to toe. "We're bringing him. You're gonna watch him die".

You know you had to take this into consideration, but you were sure it would be impossible for Kenobi to stop it from happening.

"I don't need a lecture from an ordinary woman", his voice was bitter. He was trying to spell like he was throwing knifes, but it had a different tone for you.

"You're gonna choke on your own words, Lord Vader", you mocked him. He knew better than this that you were only doing it on purpose.

But Anakin didn't take sarcasm, or jokes. He didn't take any words that would actually involve himself. When he opened the cell and rushed to you, you flinched.

You flinched so hard he almost faltered. He punched the wall so hard it broke down entirely. The pieces of it almost falling above your head as he started to pant.

It was that moment you saw the mistake you've made, he lit up his red saber, the sword swinging in front of your face.

"Anakin, please", you begged. Your frowned face almost making a scrunch from the fear.

He still held that terrible gaze and he just stared into your soul. He could hear your heart beating fast, racing against your ears. He knew better than anyone that feeling.

He was struggling with himself, with his awful transition he couldn't get rid of. He could beat itself.

One moment of distraction and you captured it from his hand, running away while holding it. It was the stupidest idea you could've had. But it only helped you get through one of his rooms, which you had no idea where it led to.

You were thrown against the wall, feeling that excruciating pain piercing through your back. Anakin didn't seem too impressed by your action, but he made sure you would learn a lesson.

It burned differently than anything else, the saber was burning your skin until it was completely raw and the sound coming off of your mouth almost made him deaf.

He was too sensitive to sounds, as well. But it didn't shake him. You were now more tired than before, trying to collect yourself, almost begging for Obi-Wan to actually show up before you were dead.

He crouched in front of you, his eyes burning from anger. "You move again and I swear I'll kill you".

"You've said that before and did nothing", you retorted.

"I'm trying to spare you. I want Obi-Wan. I don't care about your stupid body, I want his", Skywalker was never one to explain his tactics, but you were slowing him down.

As Anakin started walking left and right, he studied you. He watched the way you would confront him even when you knew he was the most dangerous person to be around at this point.

He saw you agonizing in pain from the burn of his saber, which he was still holding while walking. He never left that frown on his face, the flickering of his eyes was distressing, you could never really know what he was possibly feeling besides anger and pain.

"You don't have to do this", you started, your voice barely coming out. "You were like a brother to him, you know that. How do you think your mother would feel if she was here?".

And then, instead of stabbing you with his saber, he just broke down on his knees, begging you to stop. It hurt him, it was the most painful thing to hear about. His mother was everything to him.

"What would she do if she knew you've become something you weren't supposed to, Anakin? Stop while you can", your voice echoed in his room and he was panting again.

"Stop", his voice failed against his mouth. "Stop!"

You couldn't be more right about that, he felt inside his guts. But he wasn't going to admit it, he was deeply involved with the Sith and now his body was only a vessel.

"You don't get to talk about my mother. Don't you ever say that again", he looked at you and you almost gasped at the sight of his eyes becoming yellow.

He was about to break down in tears, he was one step closer to feeling like Anakin again.

"Anakin, you need to remember her. You need to remember who you were before. It's going to consume you".

"Shut up!", he shouted at you. He was still on his knees, his knuckles supporting his hands on the floor. "Just.. shut up".

You saw the man becoming more fragile than he ever was. You noticed he let his guard down, surprisingly putting down his shield he used to use around himself.

The tears streaming down his cheeks were burning his skin, it tasted too salty on his lips. The lump in his chest quickly rising in his throat, making it harder for him to actually breathe.

"Please, stop", you could barely hear him pleading. He was surrendering himself.

He slipped and he fell into your trap. You managed to cross his evil shield and you made him miserable. He didn't know how he could actually be able to feel like he was Anakin again.

Everything inside him felt dark, empty. His head was void, emotionless. He had too much anger inside him, it made him blind. He was too greedy for power. The more power the better.

You carefully approched him and wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, they were shuddering. You felt his body give in and shiver.

He actually felt warmth, apart from his cold hands and cold sweat, he was warm. His tears felt like waterfalls.

"Just leave before I change my mind", he said after a while, the room was so silent before that, not a single noise could be heard.

"Can you feel this?", you ask as you grip his hand tightly, firmly, crossing your fingers against his. The energy between your veins circulating, transmitting him a sensation of peace.

"This is what it feels like to be free from pain, anger. This is how you were supposed to feel like".

Skywalker was shaking, he could feel a different wave of serenity between his fingers, feeling your energy. He was almost absorving it for himself. It felt light, weightless. It tickled his inside.

He spent too much time gripping your hand, enjoying your energy. His eyes were becoming blue after a moment, the yellow almost fading.

He flinched his face and closed his eyes. He let go of your hand, getting up and held your arm, getting you up along with him.

He didn't say another word as he took you to a medical room and demanded the droids to bandage your burnt skin and give you food.

As you rested in a bed you saw him walking with a stiffened attitude, his eyes wandering across the giant window.

You would give all your money to know what he was actually thinking about, you couldn't ever know what he was going through, besides the honest pain and struggle, and anger mostly.

You ended up falling asleep while being taken care of, you were too tired and your body was giving up on the pain as well.

Only when you woke up you felt like you were being watched, and you thought one of the droids was still there taking care of you. As you slowly opened one your eyes, you saw him staring at you.

He was holding his arms crossed against his pumped chest, his face still frowned while he was leaning against the wall. His eyes were meerely blue anymore, a yellow gaze watching you.

"You should leave this place before Obi-Wan gets here", he demanded. His voice had a low husky tone. "I can't promise I won't kill him".

You were sort of dozy from the painkiller. You were trying to gather his words as you slowly sat up on the bed.

"I'll get the droids to watch over you while you get back".

Were you honestly awake or was it some kind of messed up dream you were having? That didn't sound like him at all honestly.

"Anakin, you gotta take care of yourself", you stated as you slowly got up from the bed, looking at him.

He was much taller than you, you have to raise your head to look at him. His frown was almost loose.

"Don't tell me what I should or should not do. I've made that clear before", he responded. His tone sent a shiver down your spine.

"Anakin", you raised you hand as you tried to approach his scarred face, but he was much faster and held your wrist tightly.

"Don't call me that. Don't ever call me that".

He was too hard to soften, not even Padmé would have been able to do so. You didn't know how you could manage to make him vulnerable before.

But again he had built up his walls and he was ready to use his shield against you. Other than that, he didn't break eye contact, he didn't twist your wrist.

But he still was a Sith. He still had anger inside him. Your gaze was comforting, it transmitted peace. With your other hand you cupped his jawline, you traveled your finger against his biggest scar.

Your soft, warm hand felt like shockwaves on his skin. Your heard as he let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting against his feelings.

Skywalker let go of your wrist, not touching you or getting away from your touch.

"I know there's good in you", you say as you make a trail with your fingertips on his cheek. He looked away from you, closing his eyes almost squinting them.

"No", he was too reluctant. He was feeling his blood boiling immediately. "No".

"Please, look at me", you tried to tame him. He didn't look at first.

When you locked your other fingers through his flesh hand, he almost gasped. It felt like heaven for a moment.

He gave in, and it first scared you. His eyes, as red as fire, his pupils were dilated and it was so intimidating. It was hard to look at him that way.

You must have gone mad, but when you pecked his trembling lips you felt your heart almost jump out of your throat. You felt his hand grip your waist so tight it was gonna leave a bruise.

You didn't move your lips, you didn't deepen that kiss. Hell, you didn't even move your body too scared he would back out. And it felt good like that.

He must have felt like that too, Anakin didn't push you away. He didn't flinch. When he felt your skin against his hand, he almost let out a groan, but he was holding himself off.

He was on the verge of snapping out of his mind. Skywalker felt his brain collapse and something inside him melted down. His veins were pumping his blood faster than ever.

You opened your eyes for a slight second, realizing he was looking intensively at you, his brows were furrowed. But what really shocked you was how deep blue his eyes were.

They were blue like the ocean, they were bright like the sky. They flickered with the sudden emotion washing over him. You broke from his lips and gave him an honest side smile.

He gave you nothing, because he was probably as shocked as you. He only then noticed what had happened to him when you tried to touch his face again and this time he backed out.

It pinched your heart, but it was actually expected. He moved away from you, looking tormented and stunned as he didn't even look at you when he left the medical room.

When he came back, he was holding folded clean clothes and left them at the bed. He warned the droids they were going to take you back to where you came from.

It didn't exactly make sense for you the way he reacted to your kiss, but you understood it. He was too conflicted to really know how to deal with it. And his self defense was to push you away.

"I'll let Obi-Wan know you're going back. Don't you try and make him come after me". Anakin was almost back to his normal self.

He managed to not make eye contact with you, but it slipped and he tried to look away. Your gaze at him burned his entire body.

It if keeps happening he's gonna lose it. And God, you wanted it to happen so bad.

You just nodded, getting ready to leave the building. It was making you feel so bad for leaving him alone but he wanted to be alone.

He like being by himself. He didn't want company. He didn't need company.

You didn't even have the chance to say a goodbye, because he made sure he was gone before you left. He just honestly didn't want to see you.

Inside the ship, you made sure you asked the droids to take care of him. If they obeyed and listened to him, maybe they could listen to you as well.

"Please, look after him. And if you need to, just let Obi-Wan know", your voice was almost desperate.

They seemed to agree and treated you nicely after all. Weirdly nice, to say the least. Usually their droids were built to kill people like you.

When you arrived at Crastyne, Obi-Wan was already there waiting for you and gave you the most desperate and the tightest hug. He almost crushed your bones.

It was so good to see him there, to actually feel his arms around you. He smelled like mud, but you weren't going to question.

"It's so good to see you alive, (Y/N)". He noticed your injury, and quickly changed his composure. "Are you hurt anywhere else?". You shook your head.

"He burned my skin with his saber, but that's all?", you tried to sound like it was a normal thing. But coming from Skywalker it was definitely not.

"He didn't try to kill you?". Kenobi was more confused than you were. And again you shook your head.

"He actually wanted to use me as bait, he wanted you to go there. He wanted to kill you there".

He was trying to gather your words. He wouldn't expect Anakin to actually do that, he should've seen that coming.

"But there was an overturn. I'll explain it later. I wanna take a shower, rest".

He nodded and you left with him, he was going to make sure you were safe for now. He was going to watch over you for the next few days.

But deep inside you weren't worried about yourself, you weren't worried about your safety. You were so hopelessly worried about him. You had no idea how he was going to deal with himself after that.

You weren't even sure he would be able to consider what happened between you two. You just hoped you could find him, meet him again.

Skywalker, on the other hand, couldn't make himself sleep. He was relentlessly playing your words and touch over and over in his head.

The sweat streaming down his spine was cold and harsh. His breath was out of rhythm, making it hard to come out of his throat.

What have you done to him, he thought as he couldn't wrap his mind around the mixed feelings surrounding him.

It was so hard for him to process how you reacted to his threatening, to his deep sharp gaze against you. And yet you didn't run away from him, you didn't fear him, you didn't flinch.

His metal hand crushed another wall, and he let out the most feral and loud groan. He was panting loudly, his vision was distorted.

He couldn't let you get through him like that. He couldn't let himself let you in like that. Either he keeps helping the Sith or he drops down his armor.

This energy thing is pretty intense, you think. You can't seem to sleep either, both of you connected by a feeling that keeps wandering through your veins.

It's like it's keeping you both magnetized, even through miles and miles apart.

"Be safe, Anakin", you wish while trying to calm your brain down.

Skywalker was still sitting on the corner of his bed, his arms resting against his knees while he was holding his head with both hands.

A fading voice echoing inside his brain woke him from his messed thoughts. "Be safe, Anakin".

[drops-of-moonlights]

Next with the redesigns we get to the WarioWare cast! which oh god there's so many people here what the fuck! anyways! Here we have basically the cast of the og with two from later games. The Warioware cast designs are peak so not a lot is changed, but hey, I still changed some things, so let's get to them! (shoutout to the official WarioWare website it was so useful!)

Mona and Joe are the easiest since they keep themselves more or less the same - still the deliverywoman extraordinaire and her lovable boss. Mona here like everyone else is a bit older - a college student, majoring in archaeology, and has upgraded from a scooter to a motorcycle (quite literally upgraded, Crygor took her scooter and turned it into a bike). Joe keeps himself more or less the same, except a bit afraid of losing the best employee he ever had.

The man with the beat Jimmy T and the silly lil alien, Orbulon! With the former I just added some stars on his pants and also gave him melanin, because frankly the bright colors work better with darker skintones and the Mario cast is pale as milk, some variety is nice. for Orbulon I just put him in his human disguise's cute little minidress, because we stan a gender-non-conforming king. Fun trivia: Jimmy has beef with Waluigi over who has the better dance moves. They get along otherwise but if there's dancing happening it is ON. SIGHT.

Diamond Taxi's speed demons, Dribble and Spitz! I similarly didn't change much, just more detail on shoes, Dribble wearing his coveralls differently, and their earrings, which are actually their wedding rings, because look at me in the eyes and tell me these two aren't fucking. that's right you can't. Spitz finally got to publish his novel! It's doing better than Dribble expected.

Mad Scientist and Beleaguered Karaoke Robot Assistant Duo, Crygor and Mike! The levels at which Crygor is a cyborg vary SO OFTEN I just gave him the full helmet, a robotic left hand and a robotic foot. Mike I only changed up a smidge and changing his face to an LED display for better emoting. Still Penny's loving grandfather, he's gently trying to steer her towards a focus on the mechanics rather than chemistry, believing that she can achiever her idol dreams without having to rely on questionable homemade beverages. Mike on the other hand encourages to focus more on chemistry out of the selfish desire she can make a drink that will give HIM a perfect singing voice lol.

Nintendo Fanatics 9-Volt and 18-Volt! For fun I gave them the real names of Nikola and Edison. Now middle schoolers, they still enjoy skating and Nintendo games. I did the same with 18-Volt as what I did with Jimmy T. 9-Volt's helmet is more clearly a firefighter helmet - it's his dad's old model that he gifted to him.

And to finish it off, Kat and Ana! I wanted both of them to have more unique color palletes, and as a further distinction Kat has freckles. Like the rest they're a bit older, now elementary-school kids, and while he's not in this post they also get along a LITTLE better with Leo.

[imaginedisish]

Fade Into You (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! (This my third reupload. My tags aren’t working. I’m so sorry....this must be super annoying. This is more of a test, and it’ll be the last time I reupload lol. If the fic doesn’t show up in tags, it doesn’t show up. I’m just trying to fix it). Here is that sex pollen fic I said I’d write. I only proofread once…so I’m sorry if this is sloppy. It’s inspired by “Fade Into You” by Mazzy Star. Anyway, enjoy!

Summary: You’re injected with something mysterious while hunting down a bounty…and Din takes care of it.

Warnings: THIS IS SUPER SMUTTY OML. 18+ Sex Pollen, dubcon bc of that, but there really is no questionable consent here…they both clearly give it. Oral/fingering (f!receiving), PIV-unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), canon typical violence, friends to lovers, greyjedi!reader, cursing, probably a good deal of grammatical errors, Crest still exists, and I sorta ignore Grogu at the end…yeah that’s it.

Word Count: 3,177

“When are we going to kriffing stop?” You ask, taking another step, the leaves that flood the forest floor crushing under your feet.

Din scoffs under his helmet. “Not until we find the bounty.” You groan audibly at his answer. You had been walking for what felt like hours, no, centuries. “You know it’s only been thirty minutes, right?” There’s a smirk in his voice. You silently wish you could see it spreading across his lips. You bet he smiles with his eyes, that his entire face glows when he makes his sarcastic quips at you.

You can’t help but smile at him as you shake your head. “It’s definitely been longer than thirty minutes.” You stop in your tracks, hands on your hips, head tilting to the side. He stops a few seconds after you, immediately imitating your stance.

“Aren’t you a Jedi?” He questions sardonically, but you can’t take him seriously standing like that, standing like you. The smile on your face widens. He’s almost playful. He had been more relaxed with you lately, especially since you had started training Grogu.  

You tilt your head to the other side for added effect as your foot taps impatiently against the ground. “You know I’m no Jedi.” You drop the act, taking a few steps until you meet Din’s side. While you weren’t a Jedi, given that you disagreed with most of their teachings despite being taught by one, you did consider yourself to be somewhere in the middle, balanced. You only hoped you could give Grogu an ounce of balance. It was something that took years of training to develop, to understand.

Din’s hands fall from his hips, wavering at his side. You want to grab his hands, to hold them in your own, but you fight the urge. “I know…” He trails off. Something feels different about his voice, softer. His head moves ever-so-slightly, nodding to the gurgling green thing asleep in his floating crib. “But you’re strong.” It’s genuine. “You’re more than enough for him.” And far more than enough for me, He thinks to himself.

You tentatively extend your hand out, your fingertips brushing Din’s wrist softly before clasping around it. You can hear what he’s getting at in between the lines. You smile, furrowing your brows incredulously. “I’m the lucky one,” You whisper, lightly squeezing his wrist.

I want to hold the hand inside you I want to take the breath that's true

You struggle to let go, wanting nothing else but to hold onto him forever. “I don’t know where I’d be without you,” You suddenly confess. You’re not sure where the words come from. “And the kid, too,” You amend, trying to fight the way your heart beats out of your chest.

Din’s visor doesn’t break away from your direction. You stare towards the ground, hoping to avoid his gaze, but you know it’s still on you. This was always how it happened, the stolen glances, the witty quips, the whispered confessions. They were always in passing, ready to be taken back with a generalization or the mention of the kid or some other mask or disguise.

But you and Din were dancing dangerously close to that edge. One step too far and you’d fall. As if you hadn’t fallen already.

You and Din remain frozen for a few seconds, turning away from each other to scan the forest to break the tension of the moment. But something feels off. You’re not alone. You can feel someone else, someone you can’t see, someone watching you and Din. And then, there’s a crunch – but your feet are rooted to the ground, and Din hasn’t moved either.

Another. Crunch.

“Din,” You whisper, holding your palm up, signaling him to pay attention. “We’re not alone.”

And then, as if on command, what feels like a claw wraps around your waist, dragging you away. Everything is moving far faster than you can comprehend. You fumble with your utility belt, securing your lightsaber in your hand and igniting it.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Your captor’s voice rings out against your ear as he knocks the saber out of your hand. You’ve never felt more helpless, more defeated than you do in this moment.

Suddenly a blaster shot rings out, and you shut your eyes tightly, the sound echoing throughout the forest. Your captor freezes, and you stare up at him. He’s your bounty.

And he looks terrified.

“Drop the girl.” Din’s modulated voice breaks the silence. He’s standing just a few feet away, his blaster facing you and the bounty. The bounty presses something sharp into your back in response.

“One more step and I’ll inject this in her.” His voice shakes as he slightly removes the sharp object from your back so that Din can see the needle in his hand. He shoves it back against you the second Din eases up on his blaster. “I don’t even know what this one does. Just picked it out of my bag. Could be bacta, could kill her.”

“Let her go. Now.” You had never heard Din so palpably angry. There’s an urgency in his voice, a growl. “Or you’re going to regret it. I gave you a warning shot. You know what comes next.”

“Yeah, I do.” The needle stabs into your back, and you can hear the bounty squeeze the plunger of the needle to its end. You squirm, hissing as the serum flows into your bloodstream.

BANG. Your ears ring painfully, and you fall to the ground. You don’t realize Din picked you up and started running back towards the ship until you see Grogu’s crib floating alongside you, now safely closed. The bounty disappears in the distance, dead on the ground. He killed for you.

“Din?” Your voice wavers. Everything feels hazy, warm, fuzzy. You have no idea what the bounty injected you with. Nonetheless, you don’t want to be a burden. You’re slowing Din down. The bounty might not be alone, there could be someone following behind. “Put me down.” Your voice is stronger now. You’re starting to regain a bit of strength.

“No, mesh’la, I’ve got you,” He reassures, but he’s not quite convincing. “Just stay with me, okay?” There’s an overwhelming panic in his voice. You haven’t seen him like this since Grogu was kidnapped.

“I’m fine,” You mutter, but Din doesn’t react. If anything, he tightens his grip on you. “Really Din, I think I’m okay. Why are you worrying so much?”

Again, he keeps you pressed tightly against his chest. “I care about you, kid.” He’s almost curt as his modulated voice slips out from under his helmet. He cares. You always assumed he did, but he’s never said those words. They cling to you, replaying on an endless loop in your mind. You want to hear him say them again.

You decide to give in, wrapping your arms around his neck. It feels nice, the way he’s holding you, his cold beskar pricking at the small spots of exposed skin around your stomach. Maybe a little too nice. You can feel yourself getting warmer, everywhere. Maybe you aren’t okay. Whatever the bounty injected into you, you know it’s starting to take hold.

There’s an all too familiar knot building in your stomach, a dull ache between your legs. “No kriffing way…” You trail off, beads of sweat starting to break out along your forehead. You squeeze your thighs together, searching for some sort of friction as the feeling worsens. It was getting sickening.

You were dosed with an aphrodisiac.

“What is it, cyare?” Cyare. You don’t know what it means, but the pet name, the way his honeyed voice reverberates in his vocoder, sounds so good. You want to feel the mouth that made those sounds against your own.

You swallow harshly, trying to calm yourself down and hold yourself back. But you can’t. “F-fuck,” You stutter, heat rippling through your body, the sensation practically tearing you in half. Your core is pulsing, aching for Din. You needed to get to your bunk, now. The Crest was just up ahead, it wouldn’t be much longer. You can hold on for a few more minutes. That’s all it’ll take.

“Tell me what you need, cyar’ika, anything.” He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, what he’s doing to you. But he means it. He’d truly do anything for you.

Your breath hitches in your throat at the thought. Anything. “D-don’t talk like that,” You practically moan as you tremble in his arms. “T-this isn’t something you can help me with.”

But Maker, you wish he could.

“What do you mean?” He asks. There’s something more than concern in his voice; it’s fear, the fear that maybe you won’t make it. “You gotta tell me what you’re feeling. You can’t be stubborn this time. You have to talk to me.” There’s a forcefulness behind his words, a certain confidence and command that makes you clench around nothing. He was right, this was getting worse. You can’t handle this on your own.

“I-it’s…” You’re a blabbering, stuttering mess, putty in his arms. “I think it’s some kind of aphrodisiac…” It’s only getting worse, building up in your stomach. You’re so intensely hot that you can’t even feel the wind against your skin. It was painful, unbelievably agonizing. You needed Din, needed to feel him inside of you, against you, anything, something.

Din stops in his tracks, the ramp of the Crest falling down in front of you. “Oh.” He’s shocked for just a moment before brushing it off and practically running up the ramp.

“D-Din I feel like I’m dying,” You whimper, your thighs squeezing together as tightly as humanly possible. “P-please,” You beg. “Please just touch me. C-can’t d-do it myself, ‘need to feel you.”

“Fuck,” Din grunts, stepping into the hull. “You don’t mean that. It’s the drug. You don’t want me like that, cyare.” But he wishes to himself that you did.

You shake your head. How could he possibly be so wrong? Did he not realize how much you wanted him? “N-no…wanted you this whole time,” You mutter, not caring about the consequences of your words this time around. You know exactly what you’re saying, what every word means. “I’ve wanted you since the second I met you.”

And that’s all it takes.

Without skipping a beat, Din turns off the lights in the hull. He grabs at your waist, twisting you so that your legs wrap around his hips. You can feel his erection pulsing against your heat. You roll your hips against him, moaning at the friction alone. He backs you into the wall, undoing his belt, lower pieces of armor, and pants before pulling down your leggings and panties with one quick swipe.

Suddenly, his breath fans against your ear, sending a chill down your spine. You’re so lost in the way his skin feels against yours that you must’ve missed the hiss of his helmet as he took it off. “Are you sure you want this? I can stop-,”

“No, please don’t stop Din,” You shamelessly groan, grinding against him. “Need to feel you inside me.” Your words are practically unintelligible, but Din knows what you’re trying to say. He knows what you need.

His fingers trace your hips, gliding over every inch of your body before finding their way down toward your cunt. He plunges into your folds, spreading your slick. You’re limp against him, your head falling back against the wall behind you. “So fucking wet for me, look at you.” His words alone could destroy you.

You roll your hips against his hand, hungry for more, whispering his name as his fingertips finally reach your clit. “Feels s’good,” You moan. He draws rapid circles around where you need him most, but it’s not enough.  You needed all of him. “F-fuck me, Din,” You whine shamelessly.

“Relax for me, sweet girl,” He soothes, his lips pressing a chaste kiss against your searingly hot cheeks, his fingertips rubbing rough strokes against your swollen heat. You’re already so close, but you know this isn’t over yet.

“Din, ‘need your-,”

The feeling of his cock spreading you open cuts you off. “S-shit,” Din stutters, bottoming out, filling you up. “So tight, so perfect.” He gives you a minute to adjust to the sheer size of him. You love the way he feels inside you, the way he’s splitting you open. You grind against him, and he immediately takes that as his sign to pull out and shove back into you. His thrusts become faster, deeper, his cock hitting exactly where you need him with every pump.

His fingers find your clit again, circling around the pulsing nerves deliciously. Nothing has ever felt this good, the way he touches you, the way he molds against you like things were always meant to be this way. You’re fully convinced it’s not the drug. You know it would’ve always felt like this…because it’s him.

He pumps in and out of you, hungrily, his lips crashing down against yours. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip, begging for permission to explore every inch of you. You part your mouth, happy to let him do whatever he wants.

“Being such a good girl,” Din mumbles, his warm, honeyed words echoing against the cold, metal walls of the ship. “Taking me so well. Feels so good.” You could listen to him for hours.

You can feel yourself nearing the edge. You’re shocked you’ve lasted this long in the first place, with his fingers toying at your clit, his cock pounding into you, the feeling of his skin brushing against yours in places you never thought you’d get to feel him. It’s inexplicable, and you want every moment of it engraved in your brain. You want more of this, for this to never end.

“D-Din,” His name hangs in the air as it slips off your lips. He loves the way it sounds, the way you sound, crumbling around him, falling apart for him. “I’m g-gonna-,” You hiccup, unable to finish.

“Wanna feel you come, pretty girl,” He whispers. “Let go for me.” Your walls flutter around him, tightening. “Yeah, just like that.” You can feel the tension snap, searing-hot whiteness flooding your vision as you come undone around him.

Din isn’t far behind, his hips rutting into you, his cock twitching deep inside as he finishes. He rubs your clit gently, rocking his hips against yours a few times before pulling out. You feel empty once he’s gone.

Your core is still pulsing. You needed more of him. It wasn’t enough.

“Wanna taste you,” Din whispers.

You don’t even have to ask. It wasn’t enough for him, either.

“Please,” You whine.

He sinks down to his knees, grabs onto your legs, pulling you down with him until your bare ass falls against the metal floor. He presses a chaste kiss against your lips before sinking down even farther. His hands grasp your calves, pulling you closer to him. You can feel his hot breath fan against your core. His tongue darts out, swiping against your inner thigh. You gasp softly at the sensation.

Din drags his tongue across your thigh and up to where you need him most. You moan as his tongue finally flicks your clit. It’s deplorable, lascivious, animalistic, but you don’t care. All you care about is him, the way he feels, what he’s doing to you.

“Tastes so fucking good.” His voice vibrates against your cunt, the feeling only adding to your overstimulation. Din brings his fingertips up, sliding against your folds, teasing at your entrance before plunging deep inside. “All this for me. All mine.”

Fuck he sounds so good. You’re already so close. “Din, I’m…” You trail off, unable to muster out another coherent thought. He speeds up, his fingers thrusting in and out of you, his lips latching onto your clit, sucking roughly.

“That’s it, come for me again, sweet girl.” It’s a command this time, and your body involuntarily follows. Your cunt clenches around his fingers needily, stars blurring your vision as your head falls back onto the wall. You choke out his name, your chest heaving, your heart beating uncontrollably.

You should’ve told him how you felt ages ago.

You expect Din to stop, but he doesn’t. He continues to lap at you as if he’s starving.

“Din,” You whisper, your hands combing through his curls.

“Not done with you yet, perfect girl.” Kriffing hell.

You’re not sure how long you lie there, his head between your thighs, his tongue flicking against your core, his fingers pumping in and out of you. You’re not sure how many times you’ve come, but Maker does he feel good.

Eventually, his fingers pull out of you, and his lips meet yours again.

“So fucking beautiful.” He’s so gentle, so vulnerable like this. “Wanted you for so long, mesh’la.” He takes you in his arms, lifting you up as he stands. You’re not quite sure where he’s taking you – given that all the lights are off – but you don’t care. As long as he’s there with you, you’d go anywhere in the galaxy.

He sets you down against a mattress. His bunk. He gets in after you, wrapping a soft blanket around your body. His arms pull you into his bare chest, and you nestle further into him. You’re not sure when he took his armor off, or where his shirt went in all the mess, but his skin feels so good against yours.

“Din?” You call out in the darkness, your voice muffled a bit by his chest.

“Yeah, cyare?” He answers. His fingertips trace circles against your back. You shudder under his touch.

You take a deep breath. Now probably wasn’t the time to talk things out, but you wanted to, needed to. “That wasn’t just sex…to me.” You struggle to get the words out. You know you’re ruining the moment, probably eating away at whatever feelings Din has for you. But there’s so much you need to say. “I-I love you, Din.” The confession almost slips out on its own. You know it’s true, you’ve known for a very long time, but you’re not entirely sure where it came from. It was one of those uncontrollable things that happen because they’re meant to, because the universe gives no choices, no options.

He presses a kiss against your forehead. “I love you,” He pauses, taking a deep breath, “Loved you for so long, more than you’ll ever know.”

Your heart thumps against your rib cage, threatening to break free, to burst into a million different pieces. But you don’t care. It feels good to love him so shamelessly, and to be loved so shamelessly in return.

You fall asleep, with his arms around you, safely hidden away in his bunk, for the first time.

The first of many, countless, infinite times.

Fade into you Strange you never knew Fade into you I think it's strange you never knew

[jessicas-pi]

📔

Ooooh.... Here's a crack AU I made up ages ago!

So, in this AU, when Ezra was young (like... three, maybe,) there was an accident and his parents were killed. And something happened in that accident that revealed he was Force-sensitive. He was brought to Vader, and Vader sees this child—small, but VERY Force-sensitive, and born almost the exact same day Padme died—and his reaction is just, "SON?????"

So... Ezra grows up believing that Vader is his dad.

Anyway, several years pass. Ezra is about twelve now, and he gets his first mission.

It's on Mandalore.

One of the instructors there is beginning to suspect that Sabine Wren is considering treason. Ezra is sent there, disguised as a new student, to "befriend" Sabine and discover if this is true. It backfires spectacularly!

Ezra decides that Sabine is The Coolest Ever, Actually, and sticks to her like a barnacle. They run away from the Academy together (though Ezra does leave a voicemail for Vader telling him everything is OK. He just doesn't want his dad to worry!)

Ezra says he'd like to go live quietly on Lothal (he doesn't remember it's his home, but something about the name sounds Familiar and Good), but Sabine doesn't want to. She says she'll drop him off and then she'll go and be a bounty hunter, but Ezra, who REALLY doesn't want to lose his new bestie, insists that he could be her bounty hunter apprentice. He's, like, really good at being an apprentice. Honest.

Sabine kind of has it in mind that he's this pathetic kid that she needed to babysit and rescue from the Empire (she doesn't know who he really is; Ezra honestly just forgot to ever mention it), but he convinces her to give it a shot.

So, here's the thing. Ezra was raised by Darth Vader, and though he's not actively evil, Ezra's moral compass is a pinwheel and in his mind, the only reason to not do something is if either Vader or Sabine have specifically said Ezra No That's Bad.

After a lot of bad luck, they finally get a bounty puck, and set off to bring the person in. They get to the planet, and Sabine suggests they split up, because she thinks she'll catch the bounty much faster on her own.

She doesn't.

By the time she realizes she needs to follow the sound of people screaming and running, Ezra has already located, ambushed, and messily dismembered the bounty.

"Did I do good?" Ezra asks eagerly.

Sabine quickly switches mindsets from I have to keep this kid from getting himself killed to I have to keep this kid from having a villain arc.

"Um, are you okay?" Ezra asks. "You look kind of weird."

"I'm fine," Sabine says, smiling nervously. "Y'know, maybe we should just go live quietly on Lothal or something."

As it turns out, "living quietly on Lothal" is fun for about a month (which is how long it takes Sabine to paint the entire inside of the comm tower they've claimed as their headquarters, install bunk beds, dye Ezra's hair, and make mini cardboard mandalorian helmets for the two Loth-cats he brought home.) Then boredom sets in, and Sabine takes to vandalism. Ezra goes with her. He thinks it's almost as fun as bounty hunting.

Ezra also spends time exploring the Force. He's been trained in the Dark side but the peacefulness of Lothal starts to draw him towards the Light. He starts to find an equilibrium.

Sabine and Ezra have the time of their lives.

Then, one afternoon, about a year later, when Sabine and Ezra are working on an art project, Darth Vader barges into the comm tower and demands, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, young man?!"

"Aww, Dad!" Ezra whines. "You never let me do anything!"

In hindsight, Sabine thinks, that explains a lot.

[january-summers]

Just thinking about some AUs.

Like: Wash having served on a similar ship to the MoI pre-Freelancer. Similar, but ever so slightly different in lay out so he keeps trying to auto-pilot navigate and getting lost, and Alpha's watching on the camera feeds and at some point just hits "this is too pathetic, i gotta step in" like any back seat gamer watching a let's play, except he actually can... if he can figure out how to get away with it.

So he comms Wash, either through a direct link in his helmet or through a regularly intervaled wall radio. "Uh yeah, I'm... uh... you can just call me... Church? I work in the... uh... yeah don't worry about it but I can see you on the camera feeds, again, and man i gotta tell you for a bad ass space marine this is pretty sad. Tragic really, anyway, turn around, 200 meters and take a left-"

And it keeps happening, and sometimes they just hang out, Wash hiding in a storage closet eating contraband foods (the good chocolate) while Alpha drops some funny stories from the command deck.

And Wash casually mentions him in talk with the other Freelancers, but they never get to talk to Church, and Wash can't introduce him properly, so everyone refers to Church as Wash's imaginary friend.

(... and then no one can figure out why all the AI are low-key obsessed with Wash, like they need him to like them even though he's not their human operator.)

or like (possibly the same AU): There is no Epsilon, Alpha has a moment of clarity about what's happening to him, what's being done to him, and fakes a fragment in order to port himself out and get put wholesale (what remains of him) into Wash's head. It's still pretty traumatic for both of them.

And then they skedaddle, go into hiding somewhere no one would ever think to look for them. Disguised as a sim trooper in a box canyon in the middle of nowhere.

... also thinking about Price deliberately pushing Wash's buttons and trying to provoke his PTSD so he has an excuse to put him on meds, except the meds are (on purpose) meds that Wash knows messes with his head and leads to psychotic episodes and he wouldn't take them, damn the orders, if he knew what they were.

but he doesn't, and he gets into a fight in one of the communal kitchens without his armour on and the first thing the other Freelancers know about it is when they get called for back up to the kitchen to help subdue a man that just killed three other Freelancers (bottom of the pack no-name annoying assholes no one liked or would miss anyway).

'cept the other Freelancers don't clock that it's Wash, because he's out of his armour and Wash is almost never seen without his helmet, unlike the others, so they aren't used to his face, and when they think of wash they think of bright yellow and steady charcoal greys, not "holy fuck that's a lot of blood did he fucking roll in it!?!?" reds.

But by the time they get there, psychotic episode is over, and Wash is in a semi fugue state, kinda clock's Carolina's blue and that he might have done something really bad, so he just drops the knife away from himself and half collapses to his knees like a puppet with cut strings, manages to lock his fingers behind his head before they try to tackle him to the ground.

Wash gets away with a slap on the wrist, and like a months probation. (Director was in on the 'experiment' to begin with, and now they're already down three Freelancers, no need to make it four. ... also Director won a bet about whether Wash could take on/out more than two opponents at a time.)

[t0ast-ghost]

S2 episode 21 (Patterns Of Force) I just finished a really big performance and this is my little treat.

On with it:

- What is McCoy already doing on the bridge? “I don’t know, Bones.”

- Remembering I need subtitles cause they started saying nonsense words

- A sub-a-what-ius transponder? What do you want Bones to make? I literally do not understand half the things they say

- OMG SPOCK IN A HAT!

- I’m so normal about Spock in a sweater… so normal

- Oh this is the nazi episode

- I’m so out of it cause I got bloodwork done and so watching THIS episode is gonna be an experience. Also as I wrote this I heard the singular line of, “You look quite well for a man that’s been utterly destroyed, Mr. Spock.”

- Spock is confused by Kirk’s banter for a second and then once he realizes it’s a joke he looks back at the screen and does a little (McCoy) bounce

- JOHN GILL IS?!? What

- This is disturbing

- “you should make a very convincing nazi.” WHAT?!? Why would you say that-

- This continues to be disturbing

- Spock’s done, he does not give a shit as he removes the helmet to reveal messed up hair

- The fuck is happening

- I don’t want to comment on it right now. But. Shirtless…

- You can taste the sass

- Spock’s got a real :[ look on his face

- Kirk just tearing up the bed frame with Spock.. no not in that way! You see cause they’re escaping with the transponders

- “I would require some sort of platform.” “I would be honoured, Mr. Spock.” They didn’t even think for a second about using the bed… not even a second

- SPOCK GET OFF HIS BACK

- the “oh, my goodness.” From Kirk lmao

- Jim is a good pickpocket.. fanfic writers here’s your food

- The fact that their disguises work… again

- “Now we finish the job.” She walks towards him with a gun like it’s not long range

- As soon as Kirk starts introducing himself and Spock, Spock straightens his posture and puts his hand behind his back, like awwwe

- Spock is understanding gambling, McCoy will be thrilled (they’ll get to play poker together)

- Are they “weekend at Bernie” -ing John Gill?

- “We need McCoy.” Yeah you do, kirk

- Damn McCoy gets to dress up ONE TIME and it’s as a NAZI?!?

- McCoy complaining about shoe sizes and Spock going “This is how you do it, shut the fuck up and push. We don’t have time for your emotionalism (dramatic bullshit).” Kirk is smiling at them both

- They immediately get guns pointed at them

- Jim, don’t make McCoy commit more medical malpractice for you

- McCoy’s got a gun

- “The planet fragmented.. divided.” SO YOU REMADE THE NAZIS?!?

- wait wait wait… so there’s an actual reason he did this? He wasn’t forced or controlled in some way? No. What the fuck.

- Kirk sends McCoy to “stay close to Spock.”

- When Melakon insults Spock, McCoy looks so fucking furious in the background (like sir you do this to him daily)

- “I was wrong.” NO SHIT GILL

- McCoy: Now Spock, you obviously don’t under-

Spock: Obviously, Doctor, you fail to accept-

Kirk: Gentlemen, we’ve just been through one civil war. Let’s not start another.

Kirk was right to stop them there. They would’ve been at it for weeks.

Masterpost

Episode written by John Meredyth Lucas

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (AOS Edition) Chapter Ten

AOS! Spock x Empath! Reader

Chapter Ten: Volcanic Arguments

Summary: The Enterprise has been on many missions with danger, but none have ever put a rift between any of the crew members until now.

            “Kirk to Shuttle One!” shouted Kirk over the communicator. “Locals are out of the kill zone. You are clear. Repeat. Spock, get in there, neutralize the volcano, and let’s get out of here!”

            “Captain, you’re still being pursued,” said Uhura, looking at the trackers and recordings of life-form activity on the planet.

            “He stunned our ride!” griped Bones.

            This was a common mission for the Enterprise at this point—surveying planets—but it had gone a bit array as Kirk accidentally took an artifact he should not have from the locals (though he had needed to lure them away from the path of the explosion because they were also going against orders to stop the volcano). Now he and Bones were running for their lives through a forest trying to escape while Spock went to detonate the device that would halt the volcanic explosion.

            “We have to do this now, Captain,” said Sulu on Shuttle One. “The shuttle wasn’t built for this kind of heat.”

            (Y/N) strapped Spock into his heat-proof suit, carefully checking for any cracks. They wanted their boyfriend as safe as possible during this dangerous mission.

            “Captain, did the indigenous life-forms see you?” asked Spock.

            “No, Mr. Spock, they did not,” said Kirk, obviously lying (though he had worn a hood and mask).

            “The Prime Directive clearly states that there can be no interference with the internal development of alien civilizations,” said Spock, and (Y/N) chuckled at his focus on protocol at all times.

            “I know what it says!” said Kirk, panting over the communicator. “Which is why I’m running through the jungle wearing a disguise! Now drop off your super ice cube and let’s go! Kirk out!”

            “You’re good,” said (Y/N) after checking the suit.

            Spock nodded and knelt to open up the device.

            “If we’re going to do this, we’ve got to do it now!” said Sulu. “This ash is killing our coils.”

            (Y/N) put Spock’s helmet on next and smiled at it. “Are you still sure you don’t want me to go?”

            “I’d prefer to risk my own life instead of yours,” said Spock honestly.

            “How sweet,” teased (Y/N), touching their fingers to his covered ones before letting him go.

            “We have to go now,” said Sulu.

            “I’ll see you in ninety seconds, okay?” said (Y/N), and Spock nodded.

            (Y/N) and Sulu sat in the cockpit, and the doors shut. Spock attached a coil to himself, and Sulu opened a trapdoor. Spock fell down into the volcano below that was preparing to blow. (Y/N) couldn’t help but wince in worry. They didn’t want Spock to get hurt. They loved him so much.

            Bam!

            The shuttle shook as the smoke and debris became too much, and the console began to flash in warning as they spun.

            “Prerequisite change: 2-7-3,” said the computer. The engine was overheating. “Reduce descent.”

            “I can’t hold this position,” said Sulu. “Spock, I’ve got to pull you back up.”

            “Negative, this is our only chance to save this species,” said Spock. “If this volcano erupts, the planet dies.

            The shuttle shook and swung as the pre-eruption hit it. It couldn’t take much more.

            “Pull him back up! Now!” said Sulu.

            (Y/N) grabbed the handle and pulled it down. The coil began to wind back as the shuttle sailed upwards.

            Snap!

            The coil broke, and Spock fell onto a floating rock, thankfully avoiding the lava flow.

            In a panic, (Y/N) cried, “Spock, are you okay?!”

            “I am, surprisingly, alive,” said Spock. “Stand by.”

            (Y/N) couldn’t relax, though. They were tense as the volcano rumbled ominously. Spock was stuck inside.

            “We have to get him back,” said (Y/N) to Sulu. “I can suit up and go down to get him.”

            “It’s too dangerous, your cord will break,” said Sulu.

            “We can’t leave him down there,” snapped (Y/N).

            “We don’t have a choice!” said Sulu desperately. “I’m sorry, (L/N).” His emotions were a mess of sadness, anxiety, and fear.

            (Y/N) clenched their jaw but opened the comms again. “Spock, we’re going back to the Enterprise, but we’ll get you out of there. I promise.”

            “Captain, we’re ditching the shuttle,” said Sulu, stripping into the wetsuit beside (Y/N). “You’ve got to make it to the Enterprise on your own.”

            “Wonderful!” said Kirk sarcastically, still running.

            “(L/N), you ready to swim?” asked Sulu.

            “Ready,” said (Y/N).

            They jumped out the trapdoor and landed in the ocean below while the shuttle careened into the volcano. (Y/N) and Sulu pressed the button on their mouthpieces to activate oxygen stores and small thrusters to propel them through the water. A few moments later, two other figures landed in the water—Bones and Kirk. All four swam towards the Enterprise hidden under the waves, and the ship picked them up.

            The water drained from the chamber, and Scotty opened the doors.

            “Do you have any idea how ridiculous it is to hide a starship on the bottom of the ocean?” he questioned. “We’ve been down here since last night! The salt water’s gonna ruin the—”

            “Scotty, where’s Spock?” asked (Y/N).

            Scotty swallowed. “Still in the volcano.” Concern wound through his aura and swept over (Y/N)’s skin. “We haven’t been able to get him yet.”

            Instantly, Bones, Kirk, (Y/N), Scoty, and Sulu ran towards the bridge to get to work.

            “Captain on Bridge!” announced Chekov as they all ran in.

            “Lieutenant, do we have an open channel to Mr. Spock?” asked Kirk.

            “The heat’s frying his comms, but we still have contact,” said Uhura. (Y/N) didn’t hesitate to put on a headset to keep track themself, as well.

            “Spock?” said Kirk, opening the channel.

            “I have activated the device, Captain,” said Spock. “When the countdown is complete, the reaction should render the volcano inert.”

            “Yeah, and that’s gonna render him inert!” snapped Bones, his anger belying his worry.

            “Negative, sir, not with those magnetic fields,” said Sulu.

            “We need to beam Spock back to the ship,” said Kirk. “Give me one way to do it.”

            “Uh, maybe if we had a direct line of sight,” said Chekov.

            “You’re talking about an active volcano!” cried Scotty. “Sir, if that thing erupts, I cannot guarantee we can withstand the heat.”

            “I don’t know that we can maintain that kind of altitude,” added Sulu.

            “Our shuttle was concealed by the ash cloud, but the Enterprise is too large. If utilized in a rescue, it would be revealed to the indigenous species,” said Spock.

            “We’re not leaving you,” said (Y/N) fiercely.

            Kirk nodded. “I’m with (Y/N). Spock, nobody knows the rules better than you, but there has got to be an exception.”

            “None. Such action violates the Prime Directive,” said Spock.

            “Spock,” said (Y/N), voice pained.

            “Shut up, Spock! We’re trying to save you, damn it!” said Bones, stepping up.

            “Doctor, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” said Spock.

            “We’re talking about your life, Spock!” said (Y/N).

            “The rule cannot be broken—” The channel cut off, and (Y/N) covered their mouth. Uhura moved to their side in worry.

            “Spock!” shouted Kirk, but no reply came. “Uhura, get him back.”

            Uhura nodded and worked on the controls. Instantly, (Y/N) was beside her, furiously working.

            “Ninety second to detonation!” warned Chekov.

            “If Spock were here and I were there, what would he do?” asked Kirk.

            “He’d let you die,” said Bones.

            (Y/N) whirled on him. “He wouldn’t. He cares about all of us.”

            Kirk and (Y/N) made eye contact, and he nodded. “Sulu. Take us up.”

            They all knew the risks and the issues with the Prime Directive. But they weren’t to leave their friend behind.

            “Yes, sir,” said Sulu, firing up the thrusters.

            The Enterprise erupted out of the water, right in front of the indigenous people. Ignoring the consequences, the Enterprise flew towards the volcano. Ten seconds were left to save Spock. Everyone was tense, and cloudy emotions floated around the Bridge.

            “I’ve got him!” said Scotty, programming from the Bridge.

            Not a second too soon. The device detonated, and an explosion went off below, freezing over the volcano. The Enterprise didn’t wait around, though, and flew out of the atmosphere, leaving the volcano and their disruption of the Prime Directive behind.

            Spock rematerialized in the Transport Room. Bones, Kirk, and (Y/N) were there in a moment to greet him worriedly.

            “Spock!” said (Y/N), hugging him. The heat of the volcano remained, but a little suit and warmth didn’t stop them. Spock let out a soft breath as he held them in return.

            “You alright?” asked Kirk.

            “Captain, you let them see our ship,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) let go and stepped back, frowning. “You’re alive and that’s what you say?”

            “He’s fine,” huffed Bones.

            “Captain,” said Uhura over the comms.

            “Yes, Lieutenant?” said Kirk.

            “Please notify Commander Spock that his device has successfully detonated,” said Uhura.

            Kirk smiled happily and nodded at Spock. “You hear that? Congratulations, Spock. You just saved the world.”

            “You violated the Prime Directive,” repeated Spock.

            “Oh, come on, Spock. They saw us. Big deal,” said Kirk, downplaying the severity.

            “Spock, we couldn’t leave you to die,” said (Y/N).

            “But the Prime Directive—”

            “How could you expect us to leave you there?” snapped (Y/N). Bones and Kirk took a step back.

            “It is protocol,” said Spock.

            “I couldn’t let you die,” said (Y/N), crossing their arms. “Do you think I should have?”

            “It would have been necessary,” said Spock.

            “So if someone else had been down there, you really would have just left?” (Y/N) knew Spock and knew all he’d been through and would do for those he cared fro, but his hesitance was infuriating. “Unbelievable.” They turned and stormed out of the Transport Room.

            “Good job, buddy,” said Bones, slapping Spock on the shoulder. “You angered your partner, probably the nicest person in the world.”

            “I…I would not have left them,” said Spock. As much as the Prime Directive mattered, to watch (Y/N) die would destroy him.

            “We know,” said Kirk. “But that’s the same way they feel about you.”

            “And it’s the face you think your death should matter less is exactly why they’re pissed,” said Bones. “Good luck!” He walked out of the room.

            “Don’t worry, Spock,” said Kirk. “(L/N) will come around as long as you show you’re glad to be alive.”

            Spock nodded curtly. He didn’t want (Y/N) upset at him…And he knew Kirk was right. (Y/N) loved him like he loved them. Undoubtedly, it would destroy them to watch him die. That being said, Spock would rather die himself than witness (Y/N)’s death.

            He would break if he lost them. (Y/N) was Spock’s heart.

Taglist:

@a-ofzest

@grippleback-galaxy

@genderfluid-anime-goth

@groovy-lady

@im-making-an-effort

@unending-screaming

@h-l-vlovesvintage

@neenieweenie

@keylimeconstellation

@wormwig

@technikerin23

@ilyatan

@nthdarkqueen

@kyalov

@starlit-cass

[hero-of-courage]

Here are some short writings from Linked Galaxy!

Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?

Warriors snickered unashamedly as Four pulled a stormtrooper helmet over his head. The two of them and Legend had snuck aboard an imperial cruiser and were in need of disguises. The captain decided to tease the boy as he adjusted the plastoid armor on his shoulder.

"You've definitely gotta be the shortest stormtrooper I've ever seen." The man chuckled.

Four yanked the helmet off and leveled him with a glare.

He muttered bitterly, "Hand me that cadet helmet."

Legend slid in next to Warriors in full armor. "Honestly, he should really be posing as a captured Ewok or Jawa instead."

Four roughly pulled the cadet helmet over his head and growled in a filtered voice, "Shut up or I'll stun you."

Legend knocked on the top of Four's helmet with a daring smirk. "Try it. We'll see how this op goes when you're dragging my limp body around."

The captain cut in with a mock serious tone, "Don't do it, Four. It won't go over well."

Four scowled underneath the helmet. "Why did I have to be assigned this mission with you two?"

Where's your padawan?

Time peeked over the crate carefully. Standing at attention, in front of their escape was an outrageous amount of troopers. He sighed then turned to address the two boys next to him.

"Now, this is a tight situation. We are out numbered by a lot and our chances of getting out of this hanger with guns blazing is out of the question." He shared a glance with his former apprentice. "I think it best to employ stealth-"

Time glanced around. "Twilight, where's your padawan?"

The sound of an explosion and screaming bucket-heads rang out behind him. "That's him isn't it?"

Twilight rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah..."

Time pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I'm going to have a word with both of you later. Let's get moving before Wild gets himself killed."

Point and Shoot

Legend fired his blaster at an approaching trooper and swiped his gun. After examining it briefly, he tossed it to his companion.

Hyrule fumbled to catch the weapon as Legend spoke, "There. Use that."

Hyrule turned the blaster over in his hands, looking for the grip. "I have never used a blaster before."

Legend stared at the younger boy blankly for a moment before continuing his march down the hallway. "What am I going to do with you, kid? It's simple. Point and shoot."

She's a good speeder!

"Rusl can drop us off at the spaceport and then bring Epona back home so we don't have to worry about leaving her," Twilight summarized his plan for leaving Ordon.

Time raised a brow. "You named your speeder?"

"She's a good speeder!" Twilight defended himself with his arms crossed over his chest.

The exasperated master shook his head. "I'm not going to argue about this."

Please tell me we won't...

"Please tell me we won't have me launched full speed in an escape pod into an imperial space station?" Wind huffed after speaking what seemed to be utter nonsense in a down right serious tone.

"I'm sorry?" Sky leaned forward to glance at the boy in concern and confusion. "We uh won't do that?

Wild grinned like a mad man. "Yes. Yes we will."

Four is a droid?

"Who needs a droid when you have Four to fix things? Am I right?" Wind elbowed Warriors next to him.

Legend chuckled. "Do you think he can make it past the detectors in a cantina?"

"Probably not," Wild jumped in. "Not with all that scrap metal he carries around with him."

Four's eye twitched and he gripped the wrench in his hand. "I am so close to strangling all of you."

Warriors didn't bother to hide his amusement. "He's got the attitude for it too."

"Say goodbye to your heaters. Don't come to me to fix it when you're all freezing in your rooms tonight."

I'm a fighter pilot!

Sky stumbled into the captain's seat of a freighter and scanned over the controls frantically.

"How does this thing work?" He yelled towards the back of the ship.

Legend stopped his decent down the ladder in shock. "I thought you were the best pilot!"

"I'm a fighter pilot!" Sky shot back in frustration. "I've never seen a ship like this before!"

Legend blinked at him in disbelief. "This is a simple freighter! How have you not seen one?"

"My people never traded with outsiders!" Sky explained as he guessed at the switches and successfully started the engines. "The biggest ship we have besides our loftwing fighters is the Skycarrier itself!"

"Blast it all!" Legend swore as he mentally declared this conversation a lost cause. He let himself drop into the lower turret position. "Just figure it out! I'm manning the guns!"

How'd you get so skilled with a lightsaber?

"How'd you get so skilled with a lightsaber?" Twilight asked as he and Sky boarded their home ship.

Sky pondered a moment. "I was trained by the ghosts of ancient Jedi."

Time, who happened to hear them as they entered, spilled his caff in surprise.

"Is that right?" Twilight grinned.

Sky nodded. "I think facing off against two supposed long dead Sith Lords was a big part of it."

The captain, who had walked past them at that moment, turned to face the eldest in the corner.

"Did he just say what I thought he said?" Warriors spoke in a panicked tone.

Time didn't reply as he cleaned up his spilled drink.