#solo: broken wings

[elliezato]

‪‪❤︎‬She's Jealous‪‪❤︎‬

pairing: modern!ellie williams x reader

summary: Ellie gets jealous when she sees you kissing another girl

warnings: MDNI! cursing, drugs/alcohol, fingering, bathroom sex, public sex??

a/n: This is my first fanfic so idk how to feel about thisss. Also, I feel like this story isn't very original but I keep replaying this situation in my head, helpp. I'm open to recommendations! I will probably only write ellie x reader fics for now but let me know what you want and I'll write it! I get writer's block and need inspo!! Anyway... I hope you enjoy:)

♡︎.You and Ellie have been broken up for about a month now.

Parties have never really been your thing but your friend Dina has been begging you to go to one with her.

"It's been almost a month. You can't keep isolating yourself in your dorm like this."

You lay on your bed while Dina tries to convince you to go out tonight. She's right though. Things haven't been the same since you and Ellie broke up.

"Listen. Come to the party tonight. I hate that this breakup is holding you back. who knows. maybe you'll meet someone!"

Dina leaves and you make up your mind.

You change into a pleated mini skirt and throw on some baby tee you haven't worn since your relationship. Ellie liked it when you wore skirts and you knew that. Some part of you was hoping she would be there so she could see you. You apply a thin wing of eyeliner and put on your docs.

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

Later that night you walk into the party. The house smells of weed and music covers the sound of people talking. You see Dina and Jesse from across the room. They're drinking and dancing with a few other of your friends. You hesitantly walk over to join them.

"Y/N!! thank god you're here!" Dina hugs you with one arm and a drink in the other.

"Damn, this is the first time I've seen you out since... you know" Jesse laughed as he took a sip from a red solo cup.

You sat on the couch and drank as you watched your friends enjoy the night. You hated yourself that you couldn't get up and have fun. The air felt hot and there was nothing left in your cup. As you get up to get another drink you feel eyes on you.

There she was. Ellie stood there with a drink in her hand. Your heart sank. This was the first time you've been in the same room as her since the heat of the breakup. Her eyes were on you as you slowly walked past her to get a drink. You look at the ground as you pass her, doing everything you can to avoid eye contact. When you look up to get another cup, you see Ellie standing in front of you. As she opens her mouth she say something to you, you feel hands on your waist.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing at a party alone?" The girl looks you up and down with a soft smile on her face.

From the corner of your eye, you see Ellie take a sip from her drink and walk away. You feel yourself sadden as Ellie leaves your presence. Fingers run down your waist. You look behind you and the girl is still there. It's been a long time since someone has hit on you. Honestly, the last time you romantically got attention from someone was with Ellie.

"You alright? What's upsetting you baby?" The girl whispers in your ear.

At this point, you'll do anything to get your mind off Ellie. A new relationship isn't what you want but it couldn't hurt. You turn around and face the girl. You've never seen her before but she's honestly really pretty. It wouldn't be hard to distract yourself around someone this attractive.

"m'nothin" The alcohol is hitting you. Usually, you'd feel guilty flirting with anyone other than Ellie, but right now, nothing matters.

She pulls you closer by your waist and passionately places a kiss on your lips. The sudden proximity makes you tense. Her hand travels down your hips while the other grabs your face. Something about this feels wrong but you push the thoughts back.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I came with my friend and promised I wouldn't leave her" You lied so bad, you almost cringed.

You remove yourself from the girl's grasp and take your drink as you walk away from her. The pain of the breakup is sinking in again. You wander around the party to find Dina but she's off with Jesse. There's no point in being at that party anymore. You down the rest of your drink and walk outside. The air is cold and dry. Snow falls gently as the music from the party echoes.

"What the fuck were you doing? Kissing another girl? Already?" Ellie stares at you with a joint between her lips.

"Ellie." You look at her in shock.

"We've been broken up for barely a month and you're already making moves on other women!?" She laughs under her breath as a cloud of smoke leaves her lips.

"Why do you even care. We're not together" You look at her with sad eyes. The tough act was never your strong suit.

She grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head towards her. You gasp at her touch. Snow falls down on the both of you. Your breath is visible in the cold air and the only thing keeping you warm is the heat of the situation.

"Are you trying to make me jealous, hmm?" She looks at you with lustful eyes.

"No! she kissed me..." Your voice trails off as you feel the touch of Ellie's fingers trace your jaw.

Nothing could've prepared you for this. The last time you two spoke was the breakup. This was a topic that was hard for the both of you. Clearly, the thought of the other stayed lingering in your minds. Her touch felt nice. You could feel yourself practically melting in her hand. The similar scent of weed got stronger as her face got closer.

"It worked." She takes one last hit of her joint before tossing it on the ground.

"What?" You look at her dazed and confused. Your eyes soften as her fingers trail down your neck

"I'm jealous." She admitted as she tightened her grip on your face. "Let's go back inside and show them who you belong to, yeah?" Ellie gives you a dirty grin.

You follow her back into the party. Even with Ellie, you didn't want to be back in there but that didn't matter in the moment. She walks through the crowd of people holding on tightly to your waist. You look over at her face a notice a cocky grin stuck to her lips. You can feel the eyes of the other girl you were with earlier staring at you. Ellie notices the girl staring at you. She grabs your face in front of her and kisses you. You pause as her lips touch yours. You missed this. Fuck. You missed her touch so bad. Leaning in for more, Ellie playfully pushes you away.

"God you're just as needy as I remembered." She pulls you away from the crown and leads you into an empty bathroom.

Ellie pushes you against the door causing it to shut behind you. Her lips passionately press against yours. You let your hands roam her figure. Fingers running underneath her baggy band tee. She grabs your hands and pulls them away.

"You're not getting it that easily" She glares at you as she takes your wrists by one hand and holds them above your head. "I'm going to make sure everyone knows how good I'm fucking you" Her breath is hot against your ear.

Her tongue explores your mouth and her other hand runs up your shirt. You let out a soft moan as her fingers draw circles around your nipple. She lets go of your hands and strips off your shirt. Her kisses move down your neck, leaving marks for everyone to know she you were hers. Her tongue reaches your nipples and she traces small circles around them. Her mouth moves further down your chest. Fingers moving down your waist meeting the hem of your skirt. She stops kissing your body and looks up at you. Her fingers slide up your skirt and meet your damp underwear.

"Fuck- You're so wet and I've bearly touched you" She continues kissing down your waist.

She pulls your underwear down your legs and throws them off. Her fingers finally graze your wet folds. She picks you up by your waist and places you on the counter. The granite is cold against your thighs. She sloppily kisses your lips as she inserts a finger into you. You throw your head back and hum at her touch. She grabs your chin and forces you to look at her.

"Look at me while I fuck you with my fingers." She glares up at you. Her face is desperate to feel you.

Your hands run through her hair as she pulls her finger out. She adds another finger and slams them into you. You hold the counter with one hand and the other pulling at Ellie's half-up half-down updo. You're holding in your moans remembering there's a crowd of people right behind that door. You close your eyes as Ellie curls her fingers inside of you, hitting the right spots.

"Fuck Els- s'good" You quietly whimper trying to hold back.

Tears are forming in your eyes. You can feel the warmth building up in your stomach. Ellie can feel you're close. She stops her motions and pulls her fingers out of your cunt. Your slick coats her fingers, dripping down her arm. She brings her fingers to your mouth. You clean Ellie's fingers with your tongue, whimpering for more action.

"I'm not going to give you anything if you're not going to moan for me. I want to hear you" Her fingers slide out of your mouth and find their way back down to your inner thighs.

"They're gonna hear" You bite your lip as your thighs press together.

"That's the point baby. Tell me how bad you've missed me" She keeps eye contact as she moves her face down to your hips.

She pulls your tighs apart, spreading your folds with her finger. Her tongue rests right above your clit, waiting for you to beg.

"Fuck- I need you Els. I need you to fuck me." You give into her commands wanting to feel her touch.

She finally complies and licks circles around your puffy bud. She thrusts her fingers into you once again while tasting you on her tongue. You squirm under her touch. Pornographic moans leave your lips as she starts to suck your clit. Tears fill your eyes as you look down at Ellie taking you in.

"You taste so good, I've missed your pretty pussy" She smiles against your folds removing her fingers.

The vibrations of her voice cause you to moan as you push her face closer to you. Her tongue slides down your folds and she pushes it into you. At this point, you're a moaning mess. Anyone who walks by that bathroom knows what's happening. Her nose gently rubs against your clit as her tongue fucks you.

"mmm~ i'm gonna fucking cum-" Your hips grind against her face.

She holds your waits pulling you closer. Her tongue slides out and sucks your cunts as her fingers push deep inside you. The heat in your stomach feels like it's going to burst. Only Ellie could have you panting and desperate to cum like this in a bathroom.

"That's it baby, cum for me okay?" She feels how close you are.

Her pace fastens as she gets you to release onto her fingers. Your hips buckle as whimpers and moans fill the room. She continues but slows her pace milking your orgasm. She licks the wetness from your cunt and you pant in her arms.

"I missed you" Your eyes look at her as she moves closer to your face, kissing your lips.

You can taste yourself in her mouth as she sloppy kisses you. She holds your waist and guides you off the counter. You're a mess. Makeup is running down your face and your hair is falling from the ponytail it was in. Eille was still completely dressed as she watches you put your clothes back on. She takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on your neck.

"You're such a slut for me" She grins as she places her hand on the door nob. "I don't want to ever see you tasting another girl's lips, got it" You nod in response.

You realized how hot the room was when Ellie opened the door and you felt the coolness of the party on your skin. She takes you by the waist and leads you back into the party. Ellie wore a cocky smile knowing she was the only person at this party who could get you moaning like that. Eyes were on you when people realized who was in the bathroom.

[ateez-himari]

LORE DEEPENS

New York sets a new scene for the pirates' storyline

August 4, 2024 (8:54PM)

The recent world tour has seen changes not only in the stage setup but with lore being revealed through performances as well, which have been consistent until an unexpected one time addition during the New York stop combining several members' stages. Clips from this segment of their concerts have been making rounds through social platforms, with netizens reporting on how their acting came to life so realistically that they shed tears over something they did not even fully understand.

The acting scene opened with the maknae draped in silky white garments dancing to an eerily familiar orchestra instrumental, a soft smile across her lips while the members appeared one at a time behind her to join into the choreography. Silence abruptly befalls the stadium while most lights turn black to let the spotlight onto each of the men in the order they arrived, replaying the moment their wings were ripped from them until disappearing into the darkness.

When the lighting came back to its normal setting, the vocalist could be seen chained to the same metal structure as her solo stage yet this time the attire was light blue displaying blood red stains around the shoulder blades whilst feathers of that same color were scattered on the ground. Tears streamed down as the restraints fell, leaving her free to crawl towards the members' bodies laid out across the stage and the bone chilling scream released upon touching the eldest's cheek resonated loudly enough for attendees situated further away to hear. Several beats passed during which her entire demeanor changed; heaving breaths falling into a calmer rhythm while the distressed turned into an almost subtle sadness until her head turned to the camera, her body sinking into a kneeling position as wet eyes stared directly at the lens, the captain's insignia in her hands.

The emotional performance left the audience completely silent until spotlights went out for the final time, giving them time to not only admire the group's acting skills but think about the significance of this rather dark moment as well. It has been implied previously that the blue bird is either closely linked to the young woman or simply her poetic representation in the lore, which is likely why the outfit is of this color while the red stains obviously represent the loss of wings symbolizing freedom. Pieces of the treasure film have suggested that she was involved in every single one of their stories, perhaps even being the one who helped their leader bring them together, and the fact that she is the first in front of the mirror surely represents that.

The hidden detail of a broken hearing aid lodged in her ear did not slip past sharp eyes either, leading to theories about the fact that it further represented the loss of freedom through the inability to hear their music. It has been assured by the vocalist herself that the device was simply painted in such a state as she still requires it in order to keep up with the numerous cues given through the backing track.

While the significance of their many acting performances have not been revealed as of yet, the dedication behind these bleeds through when attendees become unable to tell which are their true emotions. Please continue to support these hard working artists throughout their activities and search for any clues in their upcoming performances.

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for bringing a fake boyfriend to my friend's party?

to condense as best i can, i (30, transwoman, city of pop. >10million) recently become the mother hen to a brood of wonderful baby queers (8 total, 17-23, boys and girls, all moved for school in the last year or so, most had never set foot in ANY city before). we live on the same floor of an apartment complex, and we've all grown very close over the past months; i help them use the metro, they tell me when they're going on dates and text so i know they got home safe, i cook weekend dinners, and they all slept in my living room for a week when another apartment on the floor was broken into. i think of them as somewhere between friends, younger relatives, or even my own children.

recently, one of the older ones (21) has realized he's also trans and come out to me, and i'm so proud and grateful that i can guide him through his early transition. unfortunately, there's his mother.

he'd first told me her response to his coming out was "better than expected", so i assumed she was tolerant, if not supportive yet. i've since learned she continually misgenders him, thinks this is a "tomboy phase" he'll marry out of someday, and has begun listening to more right-wing podcasts and news sites in order to "hear from both sides".

along with the other 7 kids, i've been invited to stay at the family's farm for his birthday in august, & while he's assured me she won't make a scene with company around, he's implied she has many opinions about my prescense, but said that i shouldn't tone myself down, and that if anything "it would be good for her to learn to be kind to you early, since we're family too now". two of the girls are partners, which the mother knows, but she does not seem to care about this and said that bringing a date was fine.

i have another friend (31) who's much more loudly queer than i am. on top of this, he's heavily tattooed (HUGE taboo here), rides a motorcycle, and is very outspoken and unshakable. i told him about all of this, and he offered to come along as my boyfriend, both to bother this woman, and so i won't be in a tiny (population SEVENTY-THREE!) unfamiliar town alone if anything happens. he's met the kids several times now, they get along well, and the birthday boy has said "that all sounds hysterical. do whatever you want."

my worry here is that the mother is already MUCH worse than he'd first lead me to believe, so i don't know that i can trust the kid's judgment that everything will be fine. i don't care about hurting this woman at all, and both i and my friend have dealt with even nastier people before so i'm not afraid of her, but i DO NOT want to do anything that could put this boy in a difficult position, especially since he'll likely be living with his family every summer until he's finished school, if not longer. i know what i can personally tolerate, but i don't know what he can, especially from a mother.

would i be an asshole to bring my "boyfriend" along? is it best to just go solo? or should i stay away entirely until he's back in the city?

What are these acronyms?

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Male Monster Musume: Feeding The Beasts Pt. II

“Today is my day!!!!”

A collective groan came from everyone who clutched their pillows as they stuffed their faces in hopes of silencing the harpy’s cheers. Since before the sun had risen Pypi was especially vocal about it being his day. Shouting it from the top of his lungs as he triumphantly shouted into his monster roommate's ears while you groggily left Milo’s room for Pypi’s. 

As per the schedule—your newest attempt at combatting their violent battles for your attention—it really was Pypi’s day for you to spend rime with. You let his early excited fluttering about your renovated home continue as you slept in for as long as you could…before Pypi came to shoot you awake. 

“Come on, (Y/n)! Are you going to waste my day sleeping!?”

You groaned, pulling the covers up to hide yourself from Pypi. Nuzzling into the softness of Pypi’s bed when the harpy pulled away to pout quickly switching to a face of pure happiness. 

“Unless (Y/n) would rather spend the whole day sleeping together? I’d love to do that!”

“Ah-okay! I’m up, I’m up!” 

“Awww.”

Carrying out your morning routines side by side you two ended up in the living room to stand in silence. When you confirmed that it was Milo’s day he rushed off immediately with a plan for what he wanted to do, you were waiting for that same thing. But it didn’t seem it’d be the same with Pypi.

“...”

“...”

“...So uh Pypi what do you want to do?”

“Hmmmm I don’t know!”

“You don’t know?”

“Nope!”

“Well didn’t you have a plan for when we spent time together?”

He pouted as he crossed his wings, “Well I did suggest we stay in bed and–”

“WE ARE NOT DOING THAT!”

“Well…I don’t know what else we can do.”

“You don’t?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Okay then how about–”

_____________________________________________

“This–is–the—best—time—-in—my–-life!”

“It—is—right?”

Thankfully the great thing about the harpy-monster type was that being childish ran through his veins. Thus jumping on the bed like absolute hooligans works perfectly well as an activity together that didn’t include…something that will get you arrested. But like a child his attention was short.

“I’m bored now.”

“Huff~A-already but we—were having such fun!”

“It’d be more fun if we took off our clothes!”

“Aaaalright on to the next activity! Ever tried checkers?”

_______________________________________________

Board games and pieces sprawled across the floor before your exhausted for, while Pypi played solo with a game console on the couch. You only looked up after you hear the halted clacking of hooves that only spoke of Centoreo coming near. 

“Master (Y/n)? Are you alright, you look exhausted although I’m certain you should have gotten to sleep in today?”

You groaned, “It never stops. His energy…and I can hardly keep his attention from doing anything other than the—’s’ word we shall not speak of.”

Centoreo nodded in understanding, flashing a tentative cerulean gaze to the harpy grossly absorbed in the game. 

“Right…but it seems you’re mostly unscathed. Which is more than can be said with a certain wormlike resident.” He whispered the last part with a shudder as you stifled a chuckle. 

“That is true…but I have the sneaking suspicion he’s up to something…I just don’t know–”

“What it is? Well it better not be sex!” 

“S-smith?!” “Y-you!?”

The agent leaned on you obnoxiously forcing you to unsuccessdully push him off as he talked.

“Yup so what’s for dinner darling? Since you’re all tuckered out from not-having-sex are you doing take out?”

“For your information–”

Suddenly a gust of fierce winds assaulted your face and Smith’s, causing you both to look up at the perpetrator. Centoreo was reaching for the phony sword he kept at his side but even he was late to draw before the harpy.

“NOT FAIR! NOT FAIR! (Y/N) IS MINE! ALL MINE SO DON’T BOTHER US!”

Before you realized it the window had broken and you were so far off the ground the lights of your suburbia were simple flickers. Despite the talonned grip on your shoulder you felt more comfortable holding tight. You tried to speak to the one in charge of your flight but the wind whipping in your face wasn’t helping in the slightest so you swallowed your questions as Pypi flew further into the night. 

_________________________________________________

“N-no this isn’t the right place! Stupid! Stupid!”

Pypi’s squealing falling upon no one but your own as you clinged to him on the peak of a sky scraper in the city. He was mad at himself. Banging the tip of his wings into his head as he fought tears.

“W-why i-is this the wrong place? I-it’s beautiful up here, isn’t it?”

You clinged to him more than aware of the dangerous situation his bird brain posed once again. Having apparently forgotten that he needed to support your weight while you had your arms wrapped around his neck. It surprised you how sturdy he was being able to withstand your own weight before he properly held you against him, cradling your bottom with his wingspan. 

He sniffled into your neck,”I-i keep forgetting—to bring you to the place I meant to! And its all cause I’m such a–”

“H-hey no need to beat yourself up! You’ll remember…eventually?”

You tried to pull your best main character pick-me-up tone as you as quickly as you could bare to pat his back. That seemed to do the trick as he squeezed you tightly against his chest as he looked out at the city from behind your back.

“Y-yeah a-and at least I get to spend my day with you!” 

“Y-yeah now can we please go home I-I’m sure everyone is hungry.”

“Well hopefully they can all die on Milo’s cooking while we eat out!” 

“Pypi!”

“Fine. I know you didn’t bring your wallet so that plan was bogus anyway!” 

“Uggh!”

 You hated how much you agreed with him but at the very least you got some insight. No doubt this wasn’t the same type of fulfillment Milo was seeking but it seemed to work on nonetheless…kinda....

Next was Centoreo, but you don’t have to worry he’s guaranteed to be a breeze. More so than Pypi could ever pretend to be.

[grumpyeagleandfriends]

À Terre II | Poe Dameron x OC/Reader

A/N: Reader is a Resistance pilot that was captured during a solo reconnaissance mission. They escape by hijacking a ship. Gravely injured and hanging by a thread, they rejoin the Resistance by crash landing just outside of the base on D'Qar. A certain distraught squadron leader runs out to help. 

Hurt/Comfort. Gratuitous, self-serving one shot TWO PART story. I have rewritten the first chapter in addition to adding on a second installment. This time it's in Poe's POV. I don’t like using “y/n” so I give the reader a generic, 1 syllable Star Wars name in the middle of this bad boy.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I’ve been daydreaming about this for months years, so I finally decided to write it all out.  There’s a little bit of a long set up, but I’m not sorry about it.

Rating: T

Warnings: Mentions blood and torture. Shellshock/PTSD vibes. Cursing. Tons of graphic medical stuff. Injections (so needles).

Word count: 5,439

Masterlist

Blood was everywhere when he finally made it inside the cockpit...

Even after he got her free from the safety harness, when all he could do was keep her calm and alert until the med techs arrived, he noticed the way she looked at him, the way she pulled it together to focus every time she nearly fell asleep. Hol hadn’t been able to properly talk, but with every command he gave her, she nodded and tried her best to comply. 

The metallic iron smell of it nearly knocked him back when he opened the canopy. It covered everything. Her shaking hands, her hair, her flight suit, he even found it coating the inside of her mouth after he coaxed her to let him take away the life support mask. 

He desperately wanted to give her water to see if she could drink, but there wasn’t any to be found in the cockpit. He wanted to put her in one of his jackets to help stop her from shaking, but the patch of trees she crashed landed into was too far from his quarters on base. He wanted to scream at her for being so goddamn stubborn, but he couldn’t shake the way she desperately clutched onto his hand. 

They hadn't been careful enough when extracting her. There wasn't enough time to wait for proper immobilization equipment to be brought out to the crash site. Between Hol's blood loss and the ship leaking dangerous fluids into the forest, they made the difficult call to just move. 

Seeing that utmost trust in her eyes, alongside the fear and the pain, was what really scared him the most. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he let her die there, not after she clawed her way back to them.

He had no way of knowing at that moment, but the jostling when they lifted her out caused a broken rib to puncture one of her lungs. Poe couldn’t keep from blaming himself for his own role in that.

The second they placed her onto the hover gurney, her condition began to rapidly deteriorate. One of the med techs caught sight of her blue fingertips and immediately diagnosed a collapsed lung. Poe only just managed to clamber out of the cockpit to see it all. He stood frozen on the wing of the ship while he watched them cut open her flight suit to reveal her bloated chest. The bright glow of a laser scalpel quickly appeared and they made an emergency incision between her ribs to let the trapped air escape.

Once they got her breathing again, she was loaded onto the back of the waiting med truck and they took off. Poe was left to follow behind on the back of a ship technician's speeder bike.

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

He sprinted into the medbay only a few moments after Hol was rushed in on the hover gurney. Bypassing the waiting area and going directly through the sliding double doors was unusually easy. In hindsight it should have struck him as odd that no one stopped him, but the overstretched med staff meant that no one paid him any mind when he planted himself against the back wall in triage.

As promised, Kalonia’s team was already primed and waiting to receive her. Poe had to crane his neck to be able to see, but he counted at least seven different med techs helping transfer her over to the exam bed.

They began working like a well calibrated machine, her dirty flight suit was sliced open and quickly stripped away. As soon as they were connected, the more sophisticated diagnostic scanners lit up and began  displaying the worst of her injuries. Images of her chest cavity were produced on a monitor near the end of the exam bed, along with her vitals.

From where he stood, Poe was able to catch Hol’s foot beginning to subtly twitch. He wondered initially if he had just imagined the movement, but the surrounding med staff began to take notice as well.

“Eyes are beginning to flutter, she might be starting to come around.”  

Dr. Kalonia took a step back as her staff continued their work. She pulled aside the young medic who had been down in the cockpit with Poe. He began rattling off the details of Hol’s condition when found and how exactly she was transported. After a couple of minutes he began gesturing over his shoulder in Poe’s direction, causing Kalonia to promptly look up. Her eyes narrowed when she caught sight of him standing back by the door. 

Shit…

His back stiffened in preparation for an argument that never came.

“Dameron, get over here!”

She issued the instruction like an admiral as she pointed him over to the top of the exam bed.

He didn't think, he just immediately crossed over. The moment he was within reach, she grabbed hold of his arm and brought him to stand where she was.

“Do exactly what you did down at the crash site, alright? Talk to your pilot. Keep her calm.”

Hol’s head gently lolled to the side on the padded exam table, her face slack and eyes half-lidded. She went still once more just as he took his place. He cupped her face in his hands, noting how cool and clammy her skin felt against his palms.

Kalonia stood to his right, a penlight ready in her hand to test the reaction of her patient’s pupils.

“C’mon, Tarmin…” She called while carefully tugging open Hol’s eyelid.

Immediately, there was a weak moan, greatly muffled by the respirator mask. Hol tried to roll away from the touch, but Poe’s hands braced either side of her head.

“Hey, hey- it's okay. Easy, kid, easy.” He whispered, holding her in place just long enough for Kalonia to work.

“Settle down, Lieutenant.” The doctor spoke as she pulled away. “You crash landed on D’Qar. You’re in medical.”

Poe didn't let go once she finished. He continued cradling Hol's head, his short nails scratching at her scalp in some attempt at providing comfort.

Her body was fully exposed under the surgical lights, revealing the extent of the damage that he wasn't able to see back in the cockpit. The bruising along her abdomen and rib cage was mostly black, as if there were large ink blots staining her skin. There were blaster grazes on her right side, localized swelling where her right forearm was clearly fractured, wounds in her lower abdomen...

So much of it jumped out at once, he found it hard to focus on any one injury long enough. He began to wonder just what sort of state she was in before the crash.

Hol emitted another faint groan, one where he could distinctly hear a wheezing sound that came from deep in her chest. Her body jerked from the force of a cough. Red flecks of blood appeared inside the clear respirator mask.

Slowly, she began to blink against the lights. A worry line formed in the center of her forehead.

"No...n-no… "

It was hoarse and strained, but everyone standing around caught the audible plea. Hol's good hand suddenly lifted in an attempt to bat away those touching her.

Dr. Kalonia cursed.

"Restrain her! I'm trying to insert a chest catheter here!”

Padded white cuffs were produced and promptly attached around each of her limbs, securing her to the exam bed.

"Hol, look at me." Poe commanded. He cupped her jaw as he leaned directly over her, giving her no choice but to comply. He made himself the only thing she had to look at. His shadow worked to shield her eyes from the glaring overhead lights while also blocking her view of the med staff.

Her gaze was glassy and unfocused, but she was thankfully looking at him.

"You've got to relax." He urged, his hand smoothing her tangled hair back off her face as he spoke. "We’re trying to patch you up, alright? Let us help."

She blinked at the sound of his voice, and though the distress on her face didn't fade, she went still on the exam bed. Her eyes remained set in his direction.

"There you go, sunshine..." Poe quietly praised, using once again the affectionate name he knew she absolutely hated. "Keep those eyes on me, don't worry about anything else."

His attention never left her, but he was aware that Kalonia and another med tech were beginning to work at prepping the incision site to insert the chest tube. He wasn't convinced that Hol recognized who he was or even that she was somewhere safe, but he couldn't risk her getting freaked out by the procedure being performed on her chest.

There was still visible fear in her eyes, but she never looked away from him. Her struggling thankfully ceased as she began to lean into one of his palms bracing the side of her face.

"You're safe, you know that?" He found himself reminding her. The pads of his thumbs traced over the outer shells of her ears, trying again to ease the visible discomfort he saw etched in her face. "Promise you, babe. You're good, we've got you."

Hol winced before swallowing. His brow furrowed as he watched her lips suddenly part.

“Poe…"

Her voice was painfully raw, and normally the sound of her saying his name would have been reason for relief, but he only worried that she was wasting her energy trying to talk.

“Yeah, hey, Hol.” He greeted in a whisper, dipping just enough to brush his lips to her hairline. "It's me. I'm right here."

He frowned when she tried to say something more, something longer and impossible to parse.

"Shh-hey, no, that's enough. Don't want you to talk anymore." He gently scolded. "We’re going to do like before, okay? You relax while I run my mouth.”

Poe doubted she remembered their conversation down in the cockpit, but she thankfully fell silent. Her eyes remained on him as he kept quietly talking to her, blabbering on about how lucky she was to get out of briefings and inventory duty for the next few weeks, about how she was going to sit back on the medbay's best painkillers and watch the trashiest holovids he could find.

He knew deep down that she probably wasn't following him entirely, but he was trying to reassure himself at this point more than her. He was keenly aware that none of what he was saying was guaranteed, but he had to give himself something to hold on to, because imagining anything else simply was not an option for him. 

She had to pull through this.

She had to be fine.

Minutes passed like that, Hol's unfocused gaze trained on Poe's face as he worked at keeping her distracted. Kalonia was able to successfully insert the temporary catheter into Hol's chest, which would assure the function of her uninjured lung until they could patch up the other.

Poe listened closely as a medtech outlined all of the crucial information, providing him with the rough plan of how her treatment would proceed. Once they finished stabilizing her most grave injuries, she would be taken back for surgery. There would be some additional testing after, which would take a couple of hours...

The explanation suddenly stopped short when an alarm began to sound from one of the machines. The level of the urgency in the room immediately started to bubble over.

"Heart rate is increasing!" Someone announced.

Poe visibly paled as he watched Hol's eyes roll backward. His hands still bracing her head, he desperately looked up at the med staff, searching for some kind of instruction.

"Dameron, out!"

Kalonia swooped in and firmly shouldered him out of the way.

Before he could object, a med droid approached and began to usher him towards the door.

"Doc, what's going on?" He demanded, sidestepping the mechanical arms reaching for his shirt. "What's wrong?"

His question went ignored. Hold was entirely obscured from his view. There were too many people now surrounding the exam bed.

"She's seizing! Start anticonvulsants and prepare for a transfusion!"

"Master Dameron, the team needs to prepare the patient for surgery. You must leave."

The med droid's pincers whirred as it closed in on Poe.

"Don't tell me what I have to do!" He snapped, the outline of his jaw more pronounced as he spoke through clenched teeth.

In a moment of sheer stupidity, he pushed back hard against the unforgivingly solid metal chest. He clearly forgot that these droids were built to easily lift the deadweight of critically ill patients of any species.

The mechanical arms tightly wrapped around him, securing his own arms to his sides. They closed, crushing him flush against the droid's metal body. The gesture was completed so quickly that he could feel the air being forced out of his own chest.

Poe feebly kicked, but it was useless. The droid easily hauled him back out through the double doors and towards the waiting area.

________________________

The word about who crash-landed into the trees traveled like wildfire across base. All of black squadron, Finn, BB-8, several of the x-wing techs and pilots from various outfits formed a large group just outside of the medbay. Each of them had duties elsewhere that they were purposefully ignoring, choosing out of loyalty to be present while one of their own hung in some grave state between life and death. They were the ones who threw back countless drinks in the mess hall together, who organized a massive fantasy Gravball league that nearly sent the entire Resistance into chaos, and who pooled their commissary credits to throw each other birthday parties.

They were all present to witness the painful moment Poe was forcibly escorted out of the sliding double doors leading to triage.

"Shit!-alright, alright! Let go!" His shouts ricocheted down the hallway as he finally managed to yank himself free. The force of the motion caused him to promptly fall to the floor.

The others watched as he quickly scrambled up from the ground, stumbling and hurrying to kick at the back of the retreating med droid.

He missed, which only served to enrage him further. The doors promptly closed behind the droid and Poe spun around— his mouth set in a tight line while he began to inexplicably search his surroundings. His chest rose and fell for several beats. His face twisted into a sneer before he abruptly lashed out at the nearest object, sending a trashcan flying with his boot. The steel barrel was thankfully empty, but the sharp clang sent a shockwave across the medbay.

The few people waiting in the sitting area immediately stood up to vacate the space.

Finn was the first to take a step forward to intervene, but he was halted by a large hand on his arm. He turned his head to see Snap, skin still humid as if he came straight from the refresher.

"Best to stand back and let it pass." The pilot urged with a sad shake of his head. "His scenes are never pretty."

Finn didn't want to agree, but as he stood and watched the scene unfolding before them he couldn't find any reason to argue. Snap and the others would know better. They did know. 

Poe’s hands were pressed to the back of his head, his fingers laced together as he glared at the closed doors. He could have easily pushed his way back through, but he inexplicably remained where he stood. His eyes shot a deadly amount of spite toward whatever was happening on the other side of those doors— information that, for the time being, only he knew. 

His arms fell heavily to his sides. Ignoring the uneasy looks following him, he turned and traipsed over to the first row of waiting chairs, silently throwing himself down onto one of the seats.His legs stretched out while he leaned back, his arms folded over his chest.

He continued to stare at the doors, a hard glint in his eyes for the faceless goliath wrecking untold damage on the other side.

The others slowly filtered over to join him in the waiting area. A supportive hand would occasionally grip his shoulder or linger on his knee, but no one said anything. Those unvoiced questions sat heavy above their heads.

BB-8 remained near Poe’s feet, unusually still and silent.

Hours grudgingly crawled by. The light outside faded away and began to just barely creep back over the horizon when someone finally came out to speak to them.

Poe was the only one to be escorted back behind the double doors. Dr. Kalonia stood there waiting for him, still dressed in some of her surgical garb. Thankfully, her mask was off, because her facial expression alone was able to answer his most crucial question.

She was alive.

Kalonia began to turn before she motioned for him to come along.

"Follow me, Dameron..."

________________________

They walked together down the main hallway of the medical wing, back to where Poe knew the overnight patient beds were located. He remained silent as Kalonia gave the run through of everything— what exactly happened when he was forced out of triage and what they were able to correct during surgery. Internal bleeding was what caused Hol to begin seizing. They performed a blood transfusion that stabilized her enough to undergo surgery, but they hadn’t been confident that she would make it through. The surgery itself took hours, but they were successfully able to localize and stop the bleeding in her abdomen and patch up her punctured lung. They installed a more substantial drainage tube in her chest to allow excess air and fluids to escape so her lung could continue to heal.

She would need to be kept asleep so her body could focus on repairing itself, but Kalonia was going to let Poe see her while they performed some additional tests.

They came to a stop just before the smallest room along the hallway. Due to space constraints on base, most of the rooms along this corridor housed multiple beds. This room was only for patients in a bad enough state to justify being kept isolated from others.

Kalonia stood aside to let him enter first.

They had Hol lying half-covered on an exam bed, her chest was mostly obscured by bandages. The first thing he noticed was that she was clean now, so much so that it made his head spin. 

It shouldn’t have been such a surprise, because of course they were going to scrub away the blood and grime before putting her on fresh bedding. But still, the contrast from when he found her sitting strapped in that downed ship was startling.

Several machines were attached to her body. She was hooked up to a respirator and receiving fluids intravenously, but Poe also caught sight of the aforementioned drainage tube extending from a patch of bandages in her side. It ran all the way over the edge of the bed into a receptacle on the floor. Her injured arm was wrapped in bacta strips and immobilized with a splint.

He remained a few feet away from her bed, a distance that he decided would be safe, because it felt too dangerous to touch her. His eyes slowly took in every piece of equipment being used to keep her stable, at first he began to count but stopped himself when he reached double digits.

His brow furrowed the moment he noticed the padded white cuffs still attaching Hol's wrists to the bed frame.

"Why is she still strapped down?" He demanded, his voice oddly distorted from hours of not speaking.

"It’s just a precaution for now.” Kalonia began to explain, seeming to choose her words cautiously. “She’s still on anticonvulsants to help reduce the likelihood of further seizures, but even while sedated there are still some tremors. With the location of the drainage tube we can’t risk her moving too violently or ripping it out when she wakes.” 

Poe blinked, taking a moment to process the information. 

"How long does she have to keep the tube?”

“No more than 2 to 3 days.” 

He nodded while he chewed on his lower lip, his eyes still trained on Hol. 

“Look, Dameron…” 

She interrupted his thoughts in a gentle tone that was meant to be comforting, but it only made the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. Dr. Kalonia was known for ruthlessly running the medbay like a battleship. They went back far too long, he knew to brace for the worst whenever she started to go soft.

Poe turned to face her, the pit of dread he felt low in his stomach was only growing. He would have given anything in that moment for them to fall into their traditional roles, for him to be the one injured and for her to be yelling at him. - Dammit, Dameron! Either make yourself useful or get the hell out of my medbay!

But she only continued to speak in that horribly gentle tone.

“As Tarmin’s commanding officer, there is something else that you should know.”

She walked him around to the opposite side of the bed, where there was noticeably less tubing.

“During the examination before her surgery, I noticed some smaller injuries that made me order full lab work.”

He watched as she lifted the bit of blanket covering Hol’s legs. 

“I found infected injection sites on the insides of her arms and thighs, then these small circular burns on her ankles.”

Immediately Poe began to understand the rationale behind her delicate words.

He'd seen those marks on more than a few Resistance members who managed to escape capture. He sported similar ones himself after being captured on Jakku...after the Finalizer.

“We found traces of antipsychotics, nerve agents, and truth serum in her system.” Kalonia continued to explain. 

He bowed his head as he listened, the sour taste of bile was creeping up in the back of his mouth. He pinched the bridge of his nose while the facts began to register in his mind. His teeth clamped down on the inside of his cheek, he forced himself to slowly exhale.

"There are chafe marks on her body from restraints. The partial break to her humerus looks like it's from prolonged strain during intero—"

He couldn’t let her fully pronounce the word. 

"Alright!”

He didn't have it in him to yell anymore, but the tension in his voice filled the space like a streak of lightning.

To her credit, Kalonia never flinched at the sound. She stood patiently, unwavering, her face neutral as she watched him. An uneasy silence settled over the room.   

He took a shaky breath, being mindful to adjust his tone before continuing.

“It’s okay.” He spoke softly, voice trembling despite his efforts. “I-I got it, Doc.” 

He turned to face away as he desperately tried to calm the tightening in his throat. The corners of his eyes were sharply stinging. The best he could do to regain control was to continue biting down hard on the inside of his mouth, inhaling and exhaling through his nose.

After a couple of minutes he scrubbed both hands over his stubbled face. With the heels of his palms he rubbed at his eyes until he saw stars. Slowly, much too slowly for his liking, he was able to push his own agony down enough to recenter.

Poe turned to face Kalonia once more. He cleared his throat. 

“She's not going to be in too much pain when she wakes up?” He demanded. “You can keep her comfortable, right?”

She pointed his attention to the IV stand by the head of the exam bed.

"I can't promise when she wakes up that she won't be in some pain, but we can adjust the medication through her drip and it'll take effect almost immediately."

He nodded. His hand combed through his hair before he slowly approached the bedside once more.

Poe stood and watched Hol's face for several minutes. He searched hard for any signs of movement or distress but found nothing. Her features were mercifully still and serene for the moment. She was protected under the fog of artificial sleep.

“How long are you going to keep her under?”

The question was spoken in a near whisper. 

“Depends on her vitals, but at least a day, maybe two.”

Kalonia took the time to show him her vitals displayed on the monitor near the head of the bed, providing a brief explanation of what the numbers currently meant. For the moment, everything hovered just barely inside the acceptable range. It was far from ideal, but it was at least temporarily stable. They would have to see over the next few days how she progressed.

While standing there together, they witnessed a ripple of stiff movement pass through Hol’s limbs.

“Whoa…” Poe visibly straightened, alarm written on his face as he began to think the worst.

Kalonia’s hand found his arm.

“Those movements aren’t another seizure.” She assured him. “It’s a residual effect from nerve agent exposure. Think of it like the nerves in her body recalibrating.”

Poe nodded in quiet understanding, but all he could think about was the excuse Kalonia gave him earlier for keeping Hol restrained— how she didn’t want her to hurt herself. There was some logic behind it, he could admit that much. But now that he knew some of what happened to her, he could barely stomach the idea.

They allowed him to stay in Hol’s room overnight. Kalonia had a cot brought in for him to sleep on, but only under the condition that he promised two things: to use the refresher across the hall and to actually get some sleep.

When he was finally alone with her he felt oddly numb. There in the nearly dark ward of the medbay, he stood over Hol’s bed and just watched her. It took several minutes for him to work up the courage to approach, but he did it. His hand briefly rested on the metal railing, as if he was grounding himself before he finally reached to touch her.

His fingers snaked between her own as he slotted his hand over her's. Immediately he realized that her skin felt strangely warm, prompting him to reach up and feel the side of her face. A quick look at her vitals confirmed his suspicions, she had a low-grade fever beginning to form. 

Poe made a note to point it out to one of the medtechs when they would come to make their rounds. He touched her hand once more before he stepped back to take a seat on the unfolded cot.

From there he watched her rest. He felt the heavy pull of exhaustion on his body, but sleep was the last thing he wanted for himself. His mind was all over the place, thinking about too many things at once.

Leia would come to visit her soon. He knew that much. Once she was past the worst and strong enough to speak, they would make her issue a report and do a formal debrief in front of Leia and her counsel.

It would be long and grueling. She would have to relive everything in great detail and be thoroughly questioned. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know all of the facts himself, but he definitely knew that he didn’t want to put her through having to recount it too many times. Those meetings were meant to be classified, but it wouldn’t take long before everyone would know.

Poe so desperately wished that he could save her from that part—when everyone on base would begin to look at her differently. He knew that it was inevitable though. While he sat there next to her bed, watching over her while she slept, he could only think about what was to come.

He knew that for however long she stayed asleep in this room, she was at least protected from all that was waiting out there. The thought comforted him some, even if it was only temporary.

He also knew that the two of them needed to talk about a lot of things once she woke up.

Her position in Black Squadron needed to be rethought. It was a massive understatement to say that her flying under him was unethical. Before Hol left for Batuu they tried to be discreet about their relationship. They both told themselves that they were doing a good enough job keeping things secret, a delusion that went well past the point of denial. They thought their regular heated arguments in front of the others and their general refusal to touch each other would provide ample cover, but their sneaking off to fuck in supplies closets hadn't always been the most covert. But now that she was back, Poe was ready to throw discretion out the window. 

There were without a doubt other positions for her as a pilot, other opportunities, but it was going to be difficult convincing her. Making her understand that it wasn’t a punishment would be delicate.

He would talk it over with Leia, with some of the other squadron leaders. He would confess that he was the one in the wrong, and readily accept whatever disciplinary action came his way. They would figure something out for Hol. They had to.

Poe knew he also owed her an apology. He could have handled things differently when she volunteered for the mission, he could have spoken his mind while remaining supportive. His only memories of that conversation were just of him dressing her down, desperately trying to pull rank as a last ditch effort to keep her from leaving by herself.

The truth was that he was so fucking proud of her. During the weeks she was gone he had been livid, walking around with anger bubbling under his skin at all times. But now all he wanted was for her to hear how proud he felt, because he didn't want to leave her with those memories of their final argument.

She kept her head cool and found her way back. She survived whatever hell she fell into and fought her way out. He still couldn’t wrap his head around how she managed to pull off the execution of that landing. She had one broken arm, was trying to evade being hit with no comms system, all while coming in on fumes.

A medtech came by a couple of hours later, which woke Poe out of a light sleep.

He sat up and watched from his cot as they administered medication, checked the tubes and wires around her body to make sure nothing was out of place. 

He mentioned the fever, which thankfully hadn't climbed any higher. They started her on another course of antibiotics.

“She looks peaceful, doesn’t she?” They asked him at one point.

The very moment he heard the word a bitter taste spread across his entire tongue, making his mouth twist downward in a frown. He knew they meant well enough, but his head still snapped around to look at them in disbelief.

Because "peaceful" had never been Hol. 

Conniving.

Stubborn.

Impulsive.

A pain in his ass.

There were easily ten dozen choice adjectives he and quite a few others on this base could use to describe Hol Tarmin, but peaceful was definitely not one.

Peaceful was a word that people used to describe the dead. 

And his girl wasn’t fucking dead. 

The very idea was something he couldn’t dwell on for too long, because of the way his foundation had very nearly crumbled during those weeks she was gone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt panic the way he had at the crash site, thinking at any moment he would be forced to helplessly watch while she slipped away from him, like watching water slowly leak out of his cupped hands.

It felt selfish to have those thoughts while she was lying there in front of him, but he was keenly aware of how impossibly lucky they were to get her back — how impossibly lucky he was.

@idkwhattoputheress @boghag-after-dark @faveficsblog @flyleaf-girl @whatthehekko @maplemind @foxilayde @arctrooper69 @pascalsaac @booktvmoviefangirl @tattooednursewrites @wild-lavender-rose @alexlynn16 @euphorealis @pioneergirlsie @lilhawkeye3 @theedgeofmagik @x-wing-dameron @kik51199 @isretroavibe @mrs-kidflash @rawrimacarebear @peterwandaparker @kassdyer @holdingthegun

 . 

[suzukiblu]

wing

Bruce opens the front door of the manor and Kon-El is standing on the steps in unassuming civilian clothes that don't look like they belong either on a farm or at a punk concert, a cheap duffel bag slung over his shoulder and his hands jammed tight into his pockets, body language unsettled and uncomfortable.

"I'll call Tim down," Bruce says, already resigned to putting up with the kid at dinner tonight and breakfast in the morning. Every time he shows up looking like this, Tim refuses to let him leave before a full twenty-four hours are up.

"Please don't," Kon says tightly, and Bruce . . . pauses. Looks at him more closely.

Processes.

There's a faint little unfamiliar scar on Kon's face. A thin white line splitting his left eyebrow, as if someone actually hit him hard enough to bleed. He's not wearing any earrings, and the scattered piercings that should be in his ears . . . aren't. There's one, but only one. His build is off. A little less brute strength in it; a little more flexibility. He's standing like he doesn't know how to fight.

And, again: the scar.

When and how did anyone actually cut him like that?

"'Don't'?" Bruce repeats, his eyes just barely narrowing.

"There were eighty-four pearls," Kon says, and Bruce's gut goes cold.

Tim didn't teach him that. Tim would never. None of them would ever. Even Jason was never angry or bitter or broken enough to compromise that code.

So someone else taught it to him.

"The doctor is out," Bruce replies by rote, perfectly neutral, and Kon's shoulders sag with . . . relief. He's relieved. He didn't know if Bruce would know what he was saying.

He wanted Bruce to know what he was saying.

"I'm sorry," Kon says, swallowing roughly. "I fucked up real bad this time, B."

That's not something Kon's ever called him. The look on his face isn't an expression Kon's ever directed at him.

This isn't Kon.

"Name," Bruce orders, just as perfectly neutral.

"Jackson Kyle," Kon mutters, his eyes slanting away guiltily. Bruce is in no way inattentive or oblivious enough to miss either Tim's middle name or Selina's last one in that answer, much less the guilt. "Technically."

"Technically?" Bruce asks, not even bothering with a pointed tone, and "Jackson's" mouth twists. He doesn't bring his eyes back to Bruce's face.

"That's not what you call me," he says.

"Inside," Bruce says, stepping back from the doorway. Jackson swallows again, visibly steeling himself, then steps across the threshold. Bruce doesn't ask why what "he" calls him is more his name than the technical answer is, and doesn't ask what "he" calls him either.

That's the whole damn point of that code phrase, after all.

"Report," Bruce orders as soon as he closes the door, and Jackson shifts his center of balance and stops standing like he doesn't know how to fight.

And meets Bruce's eyes again, too.

"Alternate reality," Jackson says, and sounds just like any one of them when the worst has happened. "Things went–bad. Level Omega, final phase. You ordered me to take the out. I said no, and you shoved me through anyway."

Of course he did, Bruce thinks.

Jackson would've died with that version of him, otherwise.

"Solo flight?" he checks without any actual hope for a merciful answer. Not if Jackson had to be forced to take the out.

"Yes, sir," Jackson says, his hands curling into fists at his sides and his mouth going tight. "Nightwing was already–it was solo."

Bruce doesn't imagine a version of himself that had to bury Dick.

That didn't have time to bury Dick, more than likely.

"Downstairs for decontamination, containment procedures, and questioning," he says. Jackson nods, short and efficient. He doesn't protest the precautions.

Maybe Kon would've, but Bruce doesn't actually know him well enough to know.

This version of the kid knows all about him, though, doesn't he.

He takes Jackson to his study. They don't run into Tim or Alfred on the way, and no one else is in the manor right now.

That's for the best.

Bruce looks at Jackson. Waits. Jackson glances at him, then to the grandfather clock.

Its hands move. Tactile telekinesis, obviously.

And 10:48.

Obviously.

The door to the cave opens.

So yes, Jackson knows all about him, and the manor, and the cave, and who knows what else.

[thefoldedbird]

Interfacing Headcanons (NSFW)

There are so, so many fun things, thoughts, and caveats to interfacing and I figure I'd have to log all the dirty I like to use somewhere!

All interfacing arrays are purely for sex, not procreation. You want a baby? You have to spark merge. Not 100% guaranteed to work, but has a pretty stellar chances.

All standard Cybertronian adult frames come with both a valve and a spike. Both are extremely modular.

In addition to the basic valve and spike, we also have things like interfacing cables and "spicy" data packets.

Data packets are just that. Packets of data made to induce an overload if downloaded enough times. A particularly spicy way to flirt would be to hand off one of these to a desired partner while passing them in a hallway.

Data packets are meant to be used solo, but two bots can link interface cables to share physical experiences and overload on one packet together or compound one packet each.

Data Packets and interface cables are seen as "clean fun". Still naughty, but less embarrassing than walking in on someone spike-deep in their neighbor.

An interface cable compounded with the use of spike/valve interfacing will lead to a more intense overload, however it can be very dangerous. Use with caution.

Transfluid (cum) can be rerouted back into the system to reduce mess without hampering the feeling of release.

There are many erogenous zones to look for in a partner:

Praxian - Doorwings

Medic Frames - Hands

Seekers - Wings & Cockpits

Chevrons

Audial Fins (Be extra careful as the smaller "more expressive ones" are very easily broken!)

Sound based frames (Blaster & Soundwave) might have a sexual sensitivity to certain soundwaves.

Horns (Specifically on the mini class)

Mechs with built in armaments may have sensitivity around the barrel of the weapon.

Occasionally paint lines will follow transformation seams when a bot is shifted to their bipedal mode. These seems can be very sensitive.

Among regular cables there is spark cabling that is slightly more sensitive. It is denoted by a small amount of charge that escapes it that can be felt if touched.

There is a popular "myth" that there are bots that can overload from manipulating their EM field alone.

Flight frames can be sensitive around their thrusters as well.

[threebea]

People say Obi-Wan and the Jedi by extention, stiffled Anakin's emotions and Anakin couldn't open up to him or anyone else. This is the reason why he explodes.

In the 2002 film Attack of the Clones our first scene with Anakin and Obi-Wan involve them discussing a traumatic dream. Obi-Wan asks if it concerns Anakin's mother which implies the two have discussed these dreams and Anakin confided in him about it. Obi-Wan tries to comfort him. Sometimes dreams are just dreams. It's not a callous disregard of Anakin's emotions. Obi-Wan is speaking as someone who has lived in a community of psychics that have visions. Anakin is nineteen in a time of heightened stress where he thinks he should be promoted. Anxiety dreams are more likely than visions, and even visions can be fickle as we see with Sifo Dyas building an army to defend the Jedi that ends up slaughtering them, and Anakin killing his wife when he was supposed to save her.

Anakin then changes the subject to talk about the woman he has had a crush on since he was nine, making a very direct statement about how he's rather dream of her. If he feared Obi-Wan's judgment of his amorous emotions he would have swallowed them down and not brought them up.

Although Obi-Wan reminds him of his commitment to the Jedi Order which cannot be easily broken he isn't exactly clutching his pearls, and Anakin pokes at Obi-Wan's suspicion of politicians.

Anakin begins to show dissatisfaction with Obi-Wan when he is being viewed by said woman he likes as a little kid compared to Obi-Wan's Jedi Master. He also feels because of his natural abilities he should be able to take his trial to be a Jedi. Obi-Wan disagrees because of the obvious arrogance Anakin shows about his powers.

Mace Windu known fanon Anakin hater suggests that Obi-Wan is being too clingy and he needs to let Anakin spread his wings and fly for a solo mission with Anakin's forever crush. Thanks for the hookup, Mace. Yoda who also gets a reputation as anti-anakin agrees, poking fun at Obi-Wan mentioning a lot of Jedi can be rather arrogant. Flashback to Pada-Wan Episode I for the most handsome twerp in space bullying Jar Jar Binks.

Yoda and Mace: he's at that age, but your smothering isn't going to help him grow.

Obi-Wan: As his primary teacher I don't think he's ready, but if you think he is then alright. (Spoiler Alert, he was not ready)

Anakin, because of dreams that involve his Mother but do not give him any specifics eventually takes unnecessary risk, tries to abandon the mission Obi-Wan said he wasn't ready for, then brings his mission to Hutt controlled Tatooine for what could still be an anxiety dream (he's on a mission with his crush!). He proceeds to watch his mother die (being right about the vision does not mean he did not put his feelings before his duty) and seeks horrible revenge killing an entire village of sand people, including woman and children who are implied to have not taken part in Shmi's torture.

Anakin, having just lost his mother and also knowing he did a horrible thing that the Jedi would not approve of blames everyone he can for his actions. He blames Obi-Wan for holding him back.

Anakin never blames Obi-Wan for not letting him find Shmi. He blames Obi-Wan for not knighting him (which as we saw in Phantom Menace it's actually up to the Council, although Obi-Wan putting a good word in would maybe help). Anakin is blaming Obi-Wan for not letting his use his full power potential by keeping him a Padawan, after the scene where Anakin uses his power without any restraint.

Padme (for some reason) reassures Anakin it's normal and human to be angry and the Jedi are forever misinterpreted as emotionless rather than having taught their students emotional regulation (so they don't slaughter a village, not that you need to be masters of your emotions to not slaughter a village or anything. Just saying.)

Like, Padme is talking him down and soothing his obvious emotional breakdown at the loss of his mother. There are a few theories on why she doesn't see him killing the Sand People as repulsive or at least indicating a red flag. (Star wars wants aliens to be seen as normal people but also wants movie monsters. Anakin kills a bunch of Geonosians too when he's the one sneaking onto their planet and he's being executed for espionage, not murder so...) whatever the intention for Padme is there, she ends up showing Anakin that she accepts his dark side (pun intended), although she might not really understand the extent of what he's trying to communicate.

Anakin never tells Obi-Wan about killing the sand people, and he also does not tell Obi-Wan he has married Padme.

Is this because he can't open up to Obi-Wan because Obi-Wan raised him to push all his emotions and fears down and never speak of them? No, we already have evidence they had spoke about the nightmares more than once and Obi-Wan was worried enough to bring it up.

Does he actually truly hate Obi-Wan for holding him back and resent him bitterly and blame Obi-Wan for his Mother's death? No he once again disregards orders with the smallest nudge from Padme to go and try to save him. A task that he does not accomplish, puts the woman he was supposed to guard in the hands of the people that want her dead, and has to fight in a gladiator arena. I'm starting to think he wasn't ready for this mission. And is overconfident in his abilities which allows him to justify actions he should not be taking especially as a Jedi...man Obi-Wan really knows him.

I can't remember if it's in the deleted scenes or RotS canon but Palpatine knows about the sand people slaughter. Anakin doesn't tell Palpatine this because he trusts him more than Obi-Wan, he tells Palpatine this because Palpatine will be sympathetic and say acting on his anger by going into a blood frenzy was natural.

Anakin couldn't tell Obi-Wan because first, the sand people slaughter would have meant he would be scrutinized. Would he get kicked out of the Jedi? Probably not actually. Like legally he's probably in the clear considering how Tatooine has been shown to work. Jedi wise we have storylines outside the moves that imply it would be the Jedi's responsibility to get him back on the right path especially if the law has no jurisdiction. Either way he wouldn't be knighted anytime soon. Second, he did not tell Obi-Wan about the marriage because as a Jedi who understands and adheres to the code Obi-Wan would believe in the real danger that kind of relationship could hold for Anakin and he would make him choose one. He already said as much when Padme falls out of the shop when they go after Dooku.

If you want to talk about bad moves on Obi-Wan's part it's the he convinces Anakin not to go after Padme (who is basically fine) because he can't take Dooku alone and (unintentionally imo) convinces Anakin through his attachments rather than through duty.

So Anakin doesn't tell him knowing he would have to pick because he believes he is powerful enough to be an exception to the rules. No Jedi should have a romantic relationship but he can because he is special and he can handle it (it's like there's a pattern). Meanwhile, Palpatine and Padme both reinforce the idea that Anakin is more 'human' than other Jedi.

Jedi teaching is: even if you're angry you should not let your anger control your actions and kill people. Palpatine's lesson is: give in to hate and bloodrage without thought and don't hold yourself back even if it hurts others and yourself.

This is not me being Anti-Anakin. I think he's a great tragic character. I think he does love Padme, I think he was devastated by losing his mother and that his trauma at being a slave and having to leave her so that he could have a better life all added to what came later.

But he was also arrogant because of his natural talent, and thought he was above the rules because he always thought he was powerful enough to be an exception.

When Obi-Wan tells him he's won because he has the high ground there are a number of things he could have done in that moment, but he jumps from the position of disadvantage because he thinks he is powerful enough to overcome it.

His fear is how he got manipulated, but his arrogance constantly led to his downfall and gave Palpatine ammunition.

[flynncorvus]

Voxxy, My Child.

I was listening to a sad song okay. Don’t judge me. (CW: Minor Swearing and like a Mini Rant) (CW: A very heavy StaticMoth shipper. If you don’t like it, leave) [I’ll compliment other ship art, like RadioStatic. I even read “Radio Healed the Video Star” on Ao3; good thing, please look; but my OTP is my StaticMoth babies.]

This man has taken over my life, him and Valentino. I’m actually pretty proud of this, I haven’t been able to draw Vox in awhile, but I stuck through with it and I was able to do relatively okay! It isn’t like my other drawings, when I just turn it purple, so that’s amazing. (It’s still a little purple, but fuck that shit) Please, I have been surviving off of Character AI for so long now lol- Mostly just doing shit like where the character I play just bursts into Vox’s room, scolds him for being a workaholic, and tucks him into bed. Because the man needs sleep I swear- Side note, I head-cannon that Vox hates caffeine, but he drinks it to stay awake. Valentino loves sugary stuff, and Velvette drinks it black (Because of course she does, she’s our queen) I swear, I have a need to pump out a ton of shitty art for The Vees. StaticMoth art, Solo art, Duo art, and of course; the Trio art. I have the urge to draw them sleeping, with Valentino using his wings as like a gigantic blanket. Oh! One more thing. I head-cannon that both Vox and Val hate people touching their broken antennae, because sensitive, but they allow their close friends/families to touch them. So like only the other Vees. That’s fun. Please, please, please! Drop off your head-cannons and random rants here, because I love reading them, and I’ll love reading yours!

[annaizscribbling]

In Which the Farmer is a Cryptid (pt 5) Harvey

(start at pt 1 here)

Harvey’s mustache twitched. He was standing over the sleeping farmer, carefully tucked into white sheets on a hospital bed. She looked paler against the sterile room, like the sun was being sucked from her skin. He didn’t like having to see her like this—frail, sickly, injured. She never so much as stirred whenever she slept. It only added to the deathly aura around her.

He sighed and leaned into the bed behind him, taking off his glasses to massage the spot between his eyes. The farmer really did a number on his poor nerves. She seemed to think she was invincible, like every fiber of her being was convinced that death would never be an option. Harvey tries to tell her to be careful, to slow down, to not go so deep, not travel so far. It’s difficult to navigate the patient/doctor relationship when she’s also his friend. He worries about her. She does not seem to pay that any mind.

One desperate part of him wants to scream (and possibly cry) that she absolutely should never do anymore exploring. No more mining. No more monster hunting and solo quests. Harvey can’t even pretend to understand just how much she does, how far below the earth she has delved or how much that adventurer’s guild has pushed her into doing. He knows it’s more than anyone will admit to.

But he knows she’s an adult, and as a medical professional, his only right is to advise. He can’t force her to change her lifestyle, no matter how dangerous of one she had. As her friend though, he’s routinely fighting the urge to beg her to stop. He wants to do something he shouldn’t, like conspire with her husband to put an end to her injuries, find a way to seal her from the mines, talk with the mayor to get her banned. Something. Anything.

Though something stops him. Common sense of course, warns Harvey against trying to force her to change her life, but something else does to. He’d never admit it, even to himself, but she’s built for such reckless days. She heals so quickly, scars fade, and wounds close faster than they should. Her nutrition levels are always … perfect. Never deficient in vitamins. Her blood tests always come back unusually healthy. Her husband has expressed some concern that she’ll go days eating the same nutrition-less algae soup, but her results always say otherwise. The farmer usually has that strange youthful glow, like her body really was at his best. No matter what, she’s healthy. Always healthy, save when somebody drags her to his clinic half dead and bleeding profusely, of course.

That night, at the delightful hour of 2:30AM, Robin knocked on his door, hefting up the farmer in her arms. If he hadn’t immediately begun preoccupied treating the injured farmer, he would have been surprised at how strong Robin was. Carpentry, he supposed, built more muscles than model plans and stethoscopes.

The farmer had been beat to a pulp, by what? He did not know. Long deep scratches, bite marks, freezing cold patches, slime, blood, dust, her skin told a story he did not wish to hear. It took time to disinfect and clean the injured skin. He had to cut away her ripped up clothes, which were a laughable defense against whatever she had encountered below the surface of the earth. A half dozen emeralds rolled out of her pocket and tumbled to the floor. Harvey ignored it in favor of searching for broken ribs. That damn massive eyeliner wing of hers was still intact and had to be washed away before he could tend to the cut on her temple. Her hair was still strangely clean, and he did not find any sweat on her person, only blood. Though only half the blood was hers, it seemed.

Two different wounds required deep pressure to halt the bleeding. She was half mummified in bandages by the time he was finished. He wished this wasn’t the first time he’d have to do this for her. At this point, Harvey had made a small fortune patching her up. It was not something he was overly happy about. Scolding her did not seem to have any effect. He sometimes received an apology, but only for upsetting him. She did not seem to like upsetting him, but her desire to mine and work herself to the bone seemed a greater motivator.

Robin had already offered to call Sebastian, so Harvey could focus on the farmer. He was probably almost to the clinic. Now that his work was done for the moment, he could take a second to collect himself before he arrived. It would be best if they were not both panicked.

He looked back at her, each breath small and almost robotic. She was a puzzle, that was for certain. He loved the farmer. They all did. Nobody could care like she could. Nobody could do most things like she could. She was incredible. She was an enigma.

Harvey sighs to himself. His eyes trail to the bin of bloodied rags he’d been using to clean her up. He would dispose of them properly, of course. Though for the moment, he just couldn’t look away, wondering how she could bear to go through so much pain, time and time again.

The first few times this happened, Harvey took it as a grave reminder that even she was human. The perfect lonely farmer girl herself was only flesh and bone. Are they not the same? No matter how collected and mysterious she had seemed, she still bleeds like the rest of them.

Now he’s not so sure.

A mouse bleeds just like a wolf.

Harvey is pulled from his thoughts when he hears the front door open loudly and slam with a rattle. He collects himself and rushes out, paying no mind to his bloodied lab coat.

“Harvey?” Sebastian says hoarsely, eyes darting around frantically. He’s a mess, still in pajama bottoms and a hoodie thrown over top. His hair is frazzled and he’s wearing two different sandals. Robin is standing beside him, one hand gently on his forearm.

“Hello, Sebastian, why don’t you come in? Come see her. She’s alright, just asleep,” Harvey says softly, holding open the door for him.

Robin gives her tall son’s arm a squeeze. Her own clothing has a blood splatter on it. She looked calm in the face of it. “You call me first thing tomorrow morning and let me know how she is, Sebby, please?”

He nods and wordlessly and distractedly pats her shoulder before moving past her. He’s agitatedly biting his bottom lip, chewing on chapped skin. He shoves his shaky hands in his pockets.

As soon as Harvey opens the door, Sebastian rushes to her side, checking her over and seeming to count each bandage and scrape. He takes her tanned hand in his own pale one, running his long fingers over each of her knuckles. He looked relieved, in spite of her state.

“She’ll be alright, but she has to take it easy for at least a few weeks,” Harvey said firmly, “change her bandages every day, keep the wounds clean, and for Yoba’s sake, please keep her out of those mines until she heals at least.”

Sebastian smiled wryly. “I’ll try my best, Doc, but you know how she is.”

“I am imploring you, Sebastian. She can’t keep going like this.”

“Has she been struggling to recover? Or seeing long term damage I should know about?” Sebastian asked, his gravelly voice still soft and almost humorful. It was weird.

“Well. Er. No,” Harvey admitted awkwardly, “but it’s common logic. This isn’t good for her.”

“I’ll ask her to take a break,” Sebastian said, having never let go of her hand, “Because believe me, I’m pissed. I told her to take an extra Muscle Remedy and she forgot, then she didn’t head home at 11:00, which is not part of our deal, but let’s be honest. She’ll be back the moment somebody asks her for some topaz or some shit.”

“She has to stop, for her own wellbeing,” Harvey said quietly, keeping at bay his frustration and worry.

“Can you stop the sun from coming up in the morning, Doc?” Sebastian asked lightly, eyebrows raised.

Harvey was not amused by that.

“She’s not like us,” Sebastian said, smiling at her sleeping face, “you said it yourself. No long term damage. Perfect health. We’ve been married for just two years now, and I have learned that my job isn’t to stop her. It’s impossible. So now, I leave the impossible to her, because she’s pretty damn good at it.”

Harvey paused, before sighing and cupping his own face in his hands. “I’m going to start billing you extra for my nerves.”

“Understandable.”

[the-coffeeaddict-tim-drake]

Tim Drake Fics Part 2

Pretty Boys and Identity Problems by DarnGoshit

In an effort to get over his crush on Robin, Kon pursues a relationship with a civilian Gothamite, Tim Drake.

Or, Tim accidentally Hannah Montana’s his crush... and it works?

Leap, Fall, Fly by malcyon

He tries to use his voice, “You have one of my shirts?” Tim looks at him, amused.

“Dude, I have, like, four.”

*****

Kon figures some stuff out. Tim helps.

A Minor Inconvenience by Sishal

Tim knows he shouldn't make potentially dangerous decisions on next to no sleep. Ah well, it will be fine, right?

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Another Mistake - or is it? by Sishal 

Tim makes another stupid mistake. Jason is there to pick up the pieces.

Only A03 users can read this fic

Awesome Big Brother by Sishal 

Tim is maybe infiltrating the wrong club. To be honest, he's not really sure. But he will at least try. Or, well, he would if Jason would let him.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Tired Brothers by Sishal 

Tim is tired. Really tired. So how bad must it be that he’s the epitome of rested when compared to his brothers.

Only A03 users can read this fic.

Every Letter Counts by timbitsandpieces

Tim would much rather be taking pictures of Batman and Robin than literally anything school-related, up to and including this stupid English essay he had to do by tomorrow. He’d been putting it off, and was actually putting it off even further, when he remembered one thing. Jason Todd, aka Robin, was an English nerd. Maybe Tim could do both.

Robin landed right next to Tim, immediately scanning the surrounding area for danger. “What’s wrong, kid? Are you okay? What -”

“I’m failing English. Or, I will if you don’t help me with my homework. Please.”

“I - what?”

“My English homework. My essay’s due tomorrow. On The Outsiders. And the role of physical violence in it. You need to help me.”

All He Could Bear by Kgraces

Tim has been avoiding the Bats since he managed to save Bruce from the timestream. He needs to use the Batcomputer for a case, and he plans on leaving before Dick and Damian return from patrol. His carefully timed exit goes awry when Bruce makes an unexpected visit to the Cave.

For the first time since Bruce's return, they talk.

Bruce realizes just how much his third son is hurting and is determined to fix things.

No More Dead Robins by Kgraces for alwaysbeenhim

Tim's heart stops for fifteen minutes after flying solo gets him into trouble he can't outrun.

Jason is determined to fix things between the kid and the rest of the Bats. He won't let Tim be on his own again.

It's Called: Freefall by Kgraces

In the wake of the Widower's attack, Tim Drake has been left for dead. Badly injured and clinging to consciousness, Tim thinks he's hallucinating when he suddenly finds himself back in Gotham. He soon realizes he's not in his Gotham, but he's somehow slipped into another universe, one in which Jason Todd never died. He's expecting to be cast aside, just as he was in his own universe, but that doesn't happen.

Bruce finds a broken bird and takes him under his wing. Tim somehow finds a family, despite his worst fears.

He Knows by Ortholeine

Timothy Drake is a civilian, a normal boy. Kind of. He's normal in that he keeps secrets and has some hobbies. Those secrets and hobbies, though, are a little unique...and completely, 100% revolve around the crime-fighting family of Gotham. A good friend of the Waynes, Tim finds himself dodging his heroes' attempts to reveal their identities to him in a misguided attempt to keep the status quo. No one seems to want to let it rest, unfortunately for Timothy Drake.

We're Not Driving (How did we get here?) by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime) for ReplacementRobin

Tim stared at his phone, as if that would change what was on the screen.

Dick Grayson @FlyingDGrayson

It took some doing, and in some cases a little blackmail, but we've finally got the whole family together for a movie night! #WayneManor #movienight #familytime #schedulingisanightmare

15 minutes ago

Everybody's Heard (Bird is the Word) by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)

5 times Batman heard other heroes talking about his wayward brother,

And 1 time they were talking about his son.

Takes a Little Time, Takes a Lotta Twine (To Get Us Back Together) by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)

Tim was in Gotham.

Tim had pretty specifically been avoiding thinking about Dick as much as possible for the last few weeks. For the last year, really. No need to open that can of carnivorous worms.

Dick had other plans.

RedBird of Friendliness (In the Outlet by the Lightswitch) by TimTheToaster (tabletoptime)

5 times villains had something to say about Tim Drake.

And 1 time he was there to talk back.

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous

Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them.

Don't Feed the Birds (or they'll keep coming back Writer_loves_tropes

Red Hood is crossing the street one night and he's hit by a car. Tim Drake scrambles out of the passenger seat, but his Uber driver doesn't stick around to face Red Hood's wrath. Tim is 13 years old, so Hood knows he wasn't the driver, but Tim still wants to make up for what happened, so he says he owes Hood a favor. That is the beginning of an unlikely truce that turns into friendship that turns into little brother acquisition.

aka: Tim owes Red Hood a favor and through a series of back and forth favors, he gets adopted by the Red Hood and the Outlaws.

Enjoy!!

[butterflydm]

2x8 - now with some minor book spoilers

the vibe of Moiraine being Rand's herald, essentially, in these moments rather than up on the tower with the others. That vibed hard for me. Loved that. And Moiraine and Lan's moment of opening the bond up again was so beautiful.

Loved that Rand stood up under the force of the shield (he was making progress on that last episode).

I loved that Nynaeve's contributions were actually (almost) entirely unrelated to any big flashy uses of the One Power, which she hated everyone focusing on at the start of the season because she only wanted to look out for Egwene. She helped Elayne by being a Wisdom!

I think I was right that Mat pretended back in 2x6 that he didn't know Rand was 'dead' because he was deliberately getting Rand to talk about it so that he could reassure him, because Mat knows exactly why Perrin is baffled to hear that Rand is here and reassures him that Rand's alive.

Mat got to prove that he is such a good person here. He was clever, he was kind... and he still kinda fucked up on the tower, but it's okay, because everyone fucks up sometimes. They did the stabbing in a really great way that makes it obvious why Rand will obviously not hold it against him, because Mat was trying to stab Ishy. But Mat fighting with the Heroes! Mat BEING one of the Heroes!

And Mat did NOT touch the dagger, which feels like confirmation that we're not bringing the main cast back to the White Tower next season.

I am so glad we got our Rand-Elayne meet-cute. She got to tend his wound but it was his big unhealing wound! We got our 'bird with a broken wing' moment. I hope we get to see him make her a flower out of feathers <3

Egwene protecting Rand until Moiraine was able to unshield him was lovely. Just... the support that everyone was giving each other. There was so much love between all of them. I'm sure that some people will be upset that Rand didn't get to solo Ishamael, but I'm a found family girl first and foremost, so I love that the people he loves most were there to help him so that he could do what he needed to do. And he did just straight-up murder Turak.

the show was actually really ruthless with the Seanchan body count in a way that makes me... very hopeful about upcoming storylines.

Also, Dain calling Perrin "Two Rivers" and fighting next to him and then seeing Perrin kill his dad... is the show gonna make me ship Perrin/Dain? Is that what you're doing?

(Hopper broke my heart. I was sure it would happen, but I was still heartbroken)

...Elayne is gonna have so many questions. SO MANY questions.

Aviendha looking up and seeing our babies up there! And the dragon! People of the Dragon! <3 <3 <3 <3

Oh, and Lanfear being a key player in the plan because she was planning to kill Ishy, dump the rest of the Forsaken in the ocean, and then have her happily ever after with 'Lews Therin' only to get thwarted because Ishamael saw her betrayal coming: classic Forsaken. I am fascinated by the idea that Lanfear is now under orders NOT to bother Rand because she can't be trusted around him.

[hannibalzero]

I blame the Galactic Cruiser video by Jenny Nicholson.

Obikin, sith au.

Tw: mpreg

WIP

“Name?”

The woman in a empire uniform asked behind the desk in the west wing of the space port, chewing gum and looking incredibly board.

“Ben, Solo I suppose….I am divorced.” Obi-Wan looked up at the women checking his ticket. Fiddling with the hem of his dark blue poncho.

“It says here you are twenty eight weeks in a humoid pregnancy. Do you have your travel order from the healers?” She asked typing away, looking down at Obi-Wan through her red loftcat eyed styled glasses.

Holding up the slip of paper, Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, I pose no threat to the Titan ecosystem, I am stable enough to travel.”

She quirked a brow reading the slip and typing in the information number. “You are cleared for space travel, all records clean. Welcome to the galactic cruiser.” She handed Obi-Wan his ticket back along with the documents he had provided. “Enjoy your flight.” She added.

“Y-yes thank you.” Obi-Wan quickly took his papers back and moved out of the way.

Getting off of Tatooine was stop priority, this planet was not safe for children nor himself.

Two newborn healthy children were considered valuable slaves, a nursing mother that birthed two healthy children? Priceless.

Since Obi-Wan was poor and alone, he was considered pray by the slavers. It had taken much of his abilities in the force to gamble and win the cruiser tickets without being noticed, it also came with a good amount of credits for himself to start a new home on Titan.

A small bag with a change of clothes and his knitting inside, Obi-Wan slung the duffle bag over his shoulders as he went to the boarding area.

Yes getting tickets for a cruise ship wasn’t ideal transportation but it was the best the ex- Jedi could do.

Since becoming pregnant, the Jedi he had fled the temple with had rejected Obi-Wan.

Seeing how Obi-Wan had broken his vows no longer made Obi-Wan Kenobi a Jedi knight. Thus shunning him from the small group of survivors. Forced to make it on Tatooine alone.

The truth wasn't that black and white.

At the end of the Clone Wars, almost seven months ago. Weary, lonely and tipsy. The duties of a general and the stress of war, caught up to Obi-Wan.

There was a celebration for the end of the war, a lively party where drinks flowed. Obi-Wan ended up in the arms of one Anakin Skywalker.

The chosen one, the Jedi with no fear, the one to bring balance to the force.

Made love to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He wasn't even being foolish, that's what Anakin had called it.

Saying such sweet words….

What bothered Obi-Wan, was that he himself was sterilized. All Jedi were. An implant in the back of his neck stopped all reproduction processes.

Yet how did he?

Obi-Wan rubbed his large belly, and a hard kick brought the stewjoni male out of his thoughts.

Master Skywalker's children were large, strong and demanding on Obi-Wan’s poor body. His chest had swollen to that of a mother's, his belly large and destinded.

Obi-Wan should feel ashamed about the state of his body but, all he felt was love for it. He loved his generous chest, how beautifully his belly proudly hung. Made him feel full of life, full of the force’s blessing.

it had to be a blessing, considering how impossable his current state was.

a chim rang out through the boarding area, signaling that boarding had started.

[dindjarindiaries]

Welcome to my WORKS IN PROGRESS page! Here, you can find details on all the stories I'm currently planning or actively working on.

main masterlist • last updated: september 18, 2024

ACTIVE WIPS

What constitutes a WIP as "active?"

I currently have the document tab open and I've added to it in the last week or so.

I'm constantly brainstorming new ideas to add to it.

I plan on posting it within the next month.

untitled hunter one-shot • hunter x reader After losing Hunter to both his inhibitor chip and the Empire on Bracca, you and the squad stop at nothing to bring the real him back. → details: My take on Imperial!Hunter with maximum angst and hurt/comfort.

untitled din djarin one-shot • din djarin x reader Things don’t go as expected when Captain Teva sets you up on a solo mission with his newly recruited Mandalorian mercenary, for better or for worse. → details: What happens when an X-wing pilot goes on a mission with a handsome Mandalorian?

broken wings (chapter 3) • hunter x reader You embark on your first mission with Clone Force 99, where you stay under a certain sergeant’s protective eye. → details: Birdie and Hunter keep getting closer even in the heat of action. What's Birdie willing to do for her new group of allies?

INACTIVE WIPS

What constitutes a WIP as "inactive?"

I don't have a document made and/or open for it and I haven't been actively working on it.

I still plan on working on it later on.

I haven't finished planning out all the details yet.

scarlet trail (part one) • din djarin x reader Now that you're actually married, you and Din decide to go on a well-deserved honeymoon with your old covers, just to find yourselves caught up in yet another risky mission. → details: This is the sequel to Bloodlust! ↓ take a look at the cover!

everything i needed • din djarin x reader Din seeks help from your Sorgan host, Omera, to find out how to confess his feelings for you. → details: This is Din's POV on Everything I Wanted.

spring • frankie morales x reader You spend the spring season falling in love with Frankie. → details: This is the final follow-up to my Seasons one-shot mini-series that I started four years ago!

main masterlist

[prismaticpichu]

Zack & Sephiroth Angsty Writing Prompt!

The idea budded on discord a couple days back; thought I’d toss it out there for anyone who may be interested!! Absolutely feel free to take this outline and run with it! <3

~

Title: Dead Silence

It’s a tradition for Zack & Seph to always call each other when they are away on missions—a way of ensuring each other that they’re safe, that they are happy, and that they know that they are there. One solo mission, however, Zack loses his PHS: it falls into water, it breaks, etc. And he cannot contact Seph. Seph, who is used to checking in on his friend, begins to panic. Genesis had already deserted; Angeal had already deserted. And he can’t help but begin to wonder if Zack had done the same. But then there’s another part of him—the part that trusts Zack, that trusts their friendship. He goes about the rest of his day.

But he can’t focus. He nearly rips one of his papers bc he is scrawling so hard, falters when fighting a monster in the VR room bc all his mind can think about is Zack being hurt, Zack being captured, Zack… not coming home.

He can’t sleep that night, tosses and turns in bed. Has nightmares of Zack sprouting a wing and flying away- out of his reach, forever, ignoring his calls his pleas… Perhaps, he even sees something else: a glimmer of crimson, a bloody splotch against the night as the moon Zack disappears into morphs into something blinding and a voice begins to whisper to him in sweet, venomous velvet that tells him he will always be alone.

He wakes up in a cold sweat.

The next day- the following days, maybe a week- the anxiety only grows. His focus only cripples and his sleep only worsens. And that’s when it happens: there, in the training room, fighting some winged monster, he sees it—Genesis. Genesis & Zack working together. Laughing at him, taunting him. Something crimson flashes before his eyes. And that’s when he officially snaps. He slays Genesis in a bloody, manic rage, rips him apart and tells him that It’s all his fault. All of it. Once the man is dead, he turns around, aims his blade at Zack. But then he stops. He can’t bring himself to do it—to repeat history, to make another Modeoheim. To tear apart a friend he still loves with all his heart. The crimson flashes again, his head swims, and the mirages disappear as he blinks and opens his eyes again.

He can’t take it anymore, and crumples to his knees. Curls into himself against the cold, dissolved training room wall and grieves for the friend that he thinks he has lost forever.

And that’s when the hand falls upon his shoulder, a concerned and young voice breaking the silence.

“Oh my god… Seph! What happened, buddy…?”

Sephiroth glances up- having been on the verge of tears- and everything in his world seems to snap back into focus. He regains his senses and clarity but still can’t seem to articulate the tumultuous feelings that had overtaken him. Zack pulls him into a hug, sensing that he needs it. Holds him close and assures him that he’s here, that he would never leave him. Seph asks him quietly why he didn’t respond to him, and Zack shows him the broken PHS. Sephiroth practically laughs at his own stupidity—his anxiety…—before melting back into his friend’s arms and apologizing profusely for doubting him. Zack gently tells him not to apologize, and just holds him closer.

In the end, sensing the stressful environment that ShinRa brings upon his friend, the two do indeed decide to leave. A respectful resignation—perhaps with Masamune if needed—and Zack and Seph head off to Gongaga, a fresh world to come.

The end! <3