#there was so much there that could have been explored but wasn't.

[lovelybrooke]

Yandere Dungeon Meshi Concept

Sorry for not writing anything in a while, I hope you enjoy this, and feel free to request anything based on this concept if ya'll want.

I was going to make reader a child, but I instead went with the idea of them being older. This race is unspecified, but I personally view them as being a Tall-man.

masterlist

---

You don't know why you agreed to travel down into the dungeon with your friend, you should've never let them convince you into doing this. But alas, here you are, fighting monster after monster as you and them travel deeper and deeper. 

They've been obsessed with becoming an adventurer years before the dungeon was discovered. They were constantly taking on odd jobs just for the heck of it, constantly coming home with random bruises and other injuries, but a bright smile on their face. Adventuring was something that made them happy, and they wanted to experience it with you. 

However you were the opposite. You liked your quiet little life, and were not looking for any sort of adventure. You were happy being the person your dear friend always came back to after exploring, but you never wanted anything more, and you were very open about that. 

So when they came to you ranting and raving about a new dungeon discovered on the island, you had no interest in it whatsoever. But your friend on the other hand was obsessed, spending days begging you to come down there with them. This time, they were planning on exploring the dungeon to its fullest and water to be the first person to discover its secrets, and they wanted you with them. And though it took much convincing, you eventually agreed, something you would come to regret. 

The first few days of exploration weren't bad. You were more magically inclined, so you were able to stay away from any monsters while your friend was the one to deal with them. If you did have to fight, you were able to summon familiars in order to fight for you, which allowed you to remain safe. 

Deep down, you did enjoy the mystery of the dungeon, but as you delved deeper, and the masters became more difficult to deal with, you started to notice a change in your friend. Their previous talkative nature was gone, now replaced with eerie silence majority of the time. They were ruthless to the monsters you encountered, becoming something vicious that you were sorta afraid of. This all culminated into one strange night, you were low on mana, causing you to fall asleep quickly while your friend remained awake. 

When you awoke the next morning, your friend was gone, their bag present and filled to the brim, as though they disappeared suddenly. You spend the next few days looking for them, questioning what the best plan was. Where would they go? Why would they leave without you, when they were previously so obsessed with you staying close to them? For a moment you wanted to assume the best, that they were becoming fearful of the dungeon and, out of embarrassment, left without you, leaving their stuff behind so that you would have enough to survive without them. 

However, another part of you knew that it wasn't likely to be that simple. Your friend wasn't the same as when they first entered the dungeon, almost as if the dungeon changed them in a way. You knew that this dungeon and its ties to the mad mage was likely to cause your friend to be driven to madness, but if that's the case why did you feel perfectly fine? You knew that it was likely something or someone changed them, so you packed up as much as you could carry and left, traveling deeper in hopes of finding them, or what was left of them. 

Traveling alone in the dungeon was difficult, especially as your rations dwindled. There were days where you went without eating anything, waiting until you absolutely had to in order to not waste the small amount of food you had. You felt sick and tired most days, and on top of that whenever you were low on mana you felt miserable, and constantly wondered if this was the right choice, if your friend was truly on the surface while you were suffering for them. But you knew them, you knew that that was unlikely, and so you kept traveling, even as it pained you to do so. 

A few weeks after your friend's disappearance, you knew you couldn't travel any farther. You knew that if you were to die, then that you would be revived, though much weaker than before. That was the best option, so you didn't question the pain as you passed out while traveling, internally hoping that you would be able to get farther than before once you were back on your feet. 

However, when you did awake, you were meant with the smell of food, good food. The smell caused your heart to race, because you knew that it was likely that you were close to other travelers, and that it was likely that they weren't friendly. However, the first face you saw was the exact opposite of that, a clearly worried elf girl very close to your face. "Guys, they're up!" She screamed, it was too loud for it to be the first thing you heard, causing you to flinch. She looked apologetic as someone else, an aloof looking dwarf, handed you a bowl of soup, which you quickly scarfed down without a second thought. 

After finishing many bowls of soup, the elf girl, who you learned was named Marcille, explained that they found you passed out during their own travel and that their party leader, Laios, said that it would be wrong to leave you there. You were grateful, explaining your own situation and after much internal debate between their party, they decided to let you join them, despite you being very willing to leave on your own. Senshi, the dwarf, claimed that after not eating you were too weak to travel on your own. Laios agreed, while the beast-man and half-foot seemed like they couldn't care less. 

Laios's team was definitely eccentric, monster eating aside, though that very much threw you for a loop. They were all very different, but you see that they all cared for each other. Overall, you related a lot to Laios. One night he confided in you just how much his sister meant to him, and how badly he wanted to find her, and you couldn't help but relate to him. His drive to find his sister made you just as hopeful to find your friend as well. 

Like the other members as well, Marcille seemed to warm up to you quickly, seemingly incapable of leaving you alone, protecting you in battles even when you were perfectly fine. You gave her the benefit of the doubt, knowing she was missing her close friend. Senshi seemed like a perfect caretaker, always cooking you hearty meals, encouraging you to eat even if you were full. You basically never knew hunger when he was around. Chilchuk and Izutsumi were much more reserved, but you think they like you? Izutsumi always gives you the food she doesn't like and Chilchuk always makes sure you get taken care of first after any battle. You always assumed you were much younger than him, though it could also be because he thought you were helpless. 

As much as they did to help you fit in, you never truly felt like you belonged within their group. They all shared one common goal, and while Falin seemed like a great person to you, you never truly could relate to them, which often made you feel out of place. Though, none of this was their fault. Laios, for as strange as he was, is kind, and once he noticed your fear and anxiety he worked hard to make sure you never felt alone, even if it did cause you to become overwhelmed. 

You went from feeling alone, to cornered. You never had a moment to yourself, and you often found yourself forgetting your friend, the entire reason you were in this terrible dungeon in the first place. You wondered if it was because of the dungeon itself, or if it was some other, darker reason. With every monster, every transformation, every new meal, your mind strayed farther and farther away from your friend. You knew It was terrible, but you were so caught up with other things that your mind started to drift. You were still trying to find them, that will always be your goal, but after every meal, you start to forget your friend more and more, and it kills you.

---

A/n: I don't know how to feel about this, feel free to request for dungeon meshi if you want

[mixtapedoh]

and it was all yellow | y.j.

welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !

word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)

☄. *. ⋆

olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.

☄. *. ⋆

now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆

— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.

now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.

not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.

especially those things that could be used to his advantage.

— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).

— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."

to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.

(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)

to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.

— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.

ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.

— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”

“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”

and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”

and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”

"[REDACTED]."

"...shit."

— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.

— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.

and goddamn, if things didn't follow.

— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.

another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.

— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).

— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.

— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.

— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.

— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.

the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.

you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.

— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.

but then it didn't.

at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).

at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.

and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.

— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.

— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?

and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).

— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.

after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.

and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.

(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)

— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.

— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.

"what?"

and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.

jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"

it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"

you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.

"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.

"you think your ex would have bought that?"

of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."

"and that jacket is more my style than his."

"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."

"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."

and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?

"race you to the elevator."

— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.

— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).

"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."

"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."

and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).

— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.

— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.

the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.

— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of maltese puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.

he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead

"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."

(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)

— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.

if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.

and he never did...

until you started to wear the things he left, of course.

'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)

'sure, but why 2?'

'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'

'???!?'

'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'

'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'

'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'

'😑'

'so what's your ring size?'

'stfu'

— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.

and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...

— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.

and besides. it looked good on you.

— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.

— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.

being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.

— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.

— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.

the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.

though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"

randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.

— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.

— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.

either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.

"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"

"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."

and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.

"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."

"but! it's all been submitted now."

"then i'll meet you."

— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'

you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.

— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.

despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.

if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.

— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,

it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.

— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.

it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.

— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.

— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.

you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.

he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.

— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.

not that it bothered you, of course.

it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.

AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆

— so.

if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.

deceit? of course.

scheming? obviously.

lying? naturally.

blackmailing? most assuredly.

gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.

changing criteria? yes.

moving goalposts? clearly.

hiding the apparent? well...

— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.

and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?

— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.

— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.

and it was only getting worse.

— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).

— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.

please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.

after all, what else are older brothers for?

— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.

— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.

it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.

"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"

cue jun choking once more.

"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."

"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.

"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."

"but then y/n could get his blessing!"

— at some point, jun was at his wits end.

in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.

if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.

one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.

— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.

one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.

— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.

jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”

“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”

you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"

— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 

— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.

— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN

“angel.”

you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.

“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”

he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…

— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.

— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.

“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”

your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.

“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”

“i think i have time for both.”

☄. *. ⋆

end of file .

SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !

[stellarbit]

Pushing Limits

Work Count: 4.2 Pairing: fem!reader x Wrecker NSFW Warnings: Big ole size kink w/ associated pain, piv, poorly proofread Summary: The Bad Batch are sent to train some Jedi, you being amongst them. You and Wrecker can't stop thinkin about each other after you spar.

Having spent your youth in the temple, you developed a disinterest in the temptations of attraction as an adult. It wasn’t that others weren’t attractive to you; on the contrary, you found many beings attractive. Instead, your disinterest stemmed from the warnings of attachment and a lack of clarity on how to enjoy attraction without it.

So, for a short time, you’d experimented with physicalities. They required no emotional attachment, therefore, you saw no reason to not explore. The pleasure of others was a high that quickly became an unnecessary hassle. Partners could make things interesting but they rarely lived up to your expectations. Especially when you could find a more satisfying release on your own.

Training with five exceptionally trained, and exceptionally handsome, men tested that mindset.

The Bad Batch had been assigned a training mission on Coruscant. The Jedi Council requested an elite squad to train fresh Jedi Knights for a month. You were amongst the class and while the opportunity was an exciting one, your attention was hardly in the present.

At first, outside of their talent and appearances, there was nothing that you hadn’t experienced before. Not to mention the fact that clone troopers typically maintained a healthy boundary with their Jedi companions. About a week in, when individual training sessions came into play, you definitely noticed something different.

The first break in your indifference came when one of them, their technician - aptly named Tech, bluntly pointed out a weakness of yours. The comment was not only blunt to the point of tactlessness but also made in front of your fellow Jedi Knights.

"Your defense is sloppy," he observed, literally pointing at you. "You rely too much on your Force abilities. What happens when you're facing an opponent who can resist them?"

You stood still, captured in your final stance in defending against Hunter. You stared Tech down, a twitch ticking your eye as you considered his comment. A clone trooper negating your abilities certainly caught your attention - not in the most positive way. You’d shoved off the comment with more ire than your cohorts were accustomed to and were quick to dismiss yourself when the opportunity came.

Later that same evening you found appreciation for Tech’s observation. Despite receiving consistent praise for your abilities, no one had truly challenged you in recent memory. You prided yourself on maintaining humility, yet it seemed humility alone couldn't shield you from becoming complacent.

Impressed and eager for further challenge, you welcomed the next training session.

The troopers adjusted to instructing without an audience, most likely due to your reaction. Leaving you one on one with two troopers Wrecker and Hunter, one to spare with and the other to observe. 

“Wrecker here even bested General Skywalker once,” Hunter boasted, playfully clapping his brother on the shoulder. “He’s sure to teach you a thing or two.” With that, Hunter stepped back from the ring, gesturing grandly towards his imposing brother.

Facing Wrecker was a new challenge; his sheer size was unlike any opponent you had faced before. Initially, you managed to agilely dance around him, but it wasn't long before he caught you. With a swift pull, he twisted your arm behind you and pressed your back against his chest. Despite your struggles against his overwhelming strength, it all seemed futile until you managed a desperate kick against his ankle.

Even without the help of the Force, your strike was enough to unbalance him, and you both tumbled forward.  Wrecker freed arm and pulled up a knee to soften the blow. Regardless of his efforts he landed on top of you, caging you in and his weight pressing down. He groaned as he collected himself, his body shifting against you. Most noticeably you felt the hard mound of his codpiece grinding against you.

The position you were in registered with you - and the parallels it had to a more intimate variety. For the first time in a long time, heat rushed to your core. As he shifted to regain his bearings, the unintentional contact sent an unexpected rush of warmth through you, drawing a quiet bite to your lip to suppress any involuntary sounds.

“Ugh,” Wrecker shook his head and sat back on his knees. “Sorry about that, but good hit.” You quickly squirmed out from underneath Wrecker, acutely aware of his view of your ass. 

“If you’re going to crush someone,” You hissed as you freed yourself. “Maybe ditch the armor.”

Wrecker glanced down at himself, but smiled sheepishly. “Oh, sorry ‘bout that.”

From across the room, Hunter shook his head. “You need to learn how to get away from someone bigger than you.” He waved a hand between you and his brother. “If all it takes to bring you down is getting caught, you’ll end up dead in no time.”

Your cheeks flushed at the perceived scolding. 

“Hey,” Wrecker leaned over, giving an encouraging shake. “Don’t you worry. That’s what I’m here for.”

The idea of regularly sparring with Wrecker sent another wave of heat through you. You believed in his reassurance, you knew you’d learn quickly enough. It was having to simultaneously learn a lesson in focus that was now daunting you. Although, you though, what’s work without a little fun?

Offering him a rare smile you sighed, “I’m sure you’ll be teaching me a lot.”

Your lessons were daily and scheduled like a training camp. Each member of Clone Force 99 instructed a variety of trainings and your class rotated through them in teams as welll as solo. You took something from each exercise, absorbing as much out of the trainings as possible. Your lessons with Wrecker, however, were always the highlights of your days. 

Not only were his exercises in close combat and strength training personally fun for you, feeling his body against you in any way left you panting in a different way. There was a rush in being turned on by Wrecker without his knowledge. His instruction required his frequent touch as he moved you through maneuvers, while his sparring was aimed at capturing you.

You let him more times than you liked to admit. But Tech had been right, without using the Force to push opponents or jump away you found evading Wrecker challenging. Every time he did get a hold of you it was a struggle to both get free as well as not go limp in his arms. 

Your favorite was his snatching you by the waist and yanking you back against him. It delivered enough force to hide how you pressed back into him. He’d come to training sans armor since your first lesson, but you still felt the cup he wore when he was against you. 

You'd done an excellent job of hiding your perverted intentions until you landed in the same position that got you into this mess.

Wrecker had set you up to be captured again. You nearly ducked out of his reach but he swung his arm with surprising agility and slammed you back against him. As you did the very first time, you kicked a foot into his ankle and knocked him off balance. The two of you tumbled to the ground and, while he did his best to soften the blow, Wrecker weighed down on top of you. With his crotch nestled perfectly into your ass, you mindlessly ground back into him. 

You weren’t able to stop your body, but you caught the whine that threatened to escape you. All you could do was hope he hadn’t felt you as Wrecker gathered himself. The familiar press of his cup to your backside almost made you repeat the same mistake.

"Wrecker," Crosshair interjected from the sidelines, his tone dry. "Get off her; you're crushing her." His words snapped you back to reality, reminding you of the observers. Flustered and embarrassed, you began shoving Wrecker off energetically.

“Although…” An amused air came to Crosshair’s voice. “She might like it.” It was an obvious tease, but your guilty pleasure added unintended weight to it.

If anyone’s enjoying this, Wrecker thought to himself, it was him. A fact he struggled to hide every time he saw you. Wrecker enjoyed seeing you improve, enjoying even more how comfortable you’d become with him in the process.

Weirdly enough, you reminded him of Crosshair in the way you hid a soft side beneath your steely demeanor. The first time smiled at him after, Wrecker thought the planet had stopped spinning. 

Mesh’la, he’d thought for the first time in his life. Something he’d said to others in the throes of pleasure, but seeing you invigorated, panting, and smiling before him - Wrecker realized what the word was truly meant for. 

From that point on, he sought you out in every room, straining for any opportunity to hear your voice. He wasted no chance to approach you, even having wrangled you into sharing a meal or two with his squad. Each night he revisited the feel of you against him, envisioning how you else might feel against him. 

Ditching his armor meant he got a taste of that most times you sparred. Any time he caught you, he did it with enough force you wouldn’t catch him intentionally pressing into you. It was a risky game, but Wrecker couldn’t help himself with you. He wanted you.

So, Wrecker thought, if anyone was enjoying it all - it was him.

“Stow it, Crosshair.” Wrecker bit at his brother, trying to help you to your feet.

“Why so shy, Jedi?” Crosshair snorted, rolling a toothpick to one side of his mouth.

You shook with embarrassment, perceived by them as rage, and snapped, “You’re both insufferable.” 

Wrecker watched you march off, catching the red tint on your ears. He was upset with Crosshair for cutting his time with you short. Moreso he was worried you were upset with him. “I’m going to check on her.”

“Good luck with that,” Crosshair scoffed. “Two credits you come back missing a limb.”

Wrecker only grumbled in response, jogging off to catch up with you. You were at the helm of your quarters when he finally got to you. You stopped, took a deep breath, and turned to him.

“Wrecker, I’m sorry but -”

“Can I come in?” Wrecker took a step closer, his brows pulled together.

You blinked at him, a bit more embarrassment sinking in. Nodding along you silently motioned for him to follow. Once inside Wrecker wasted no time, he immediately started talking.

“You’re upset, I—I know," he started, clasping his hands together nervously.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Wrecker.” You blurted out, his eyes widening. 

Running your fingers through your hair you began a nervous circle around the room. "Every time you touch me, I feel like I can't breathe. When we spar, I’m imagining you—" You stopped abruptly, turning to Wrecker with a pleading look. "Wrecker, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t—"

Wrecker reached out and gently grasped your shoulder, silencing your rambling. “What’re you imaginin’?” he asked softly.

Squeezing your eyes shut you quickly came to terms with telling the truth. On a fast exhale you, you met Wrecker’s eyes and admitted, “When you touch me all I can think about is you being on me and feeling your-”

“You felt that?”

A touch of panic in his voice made you hesitate, but you continued, “-codpiece against me.” His response was a few wide eyed blinks, still processing the nuance. Already prepared for embarrassment you added, “And I imagine it’s not just your armor and it’s all-” you cut yourself short when Wrecker pulled one of your hands towards him.

He pressed your palm against his crotch where a thick, hard member strained against the fabric. You instinctively slid your touch along the length of his bulge. Even through his pants you knew your hand couldn’t even close around him. Pressure twisted between your legs at the thought.

Wrecker winced at the pleasant pressure of your touch. With his eyes squeezed shut he groaned, “It’s not armor. I-I’m sorry, I thought I was hiding it.” The large man made to step back out of your touch but you stepped with him to maintain that connection.

The two of you stood like that for a few heartbeats. You had Wrecker’s full attention and with it you pressed into him, feeling the length of him twitch into your touch. 

“This,” you pressed into him for emphasis. “Is your reaction when we spar?”

Unable to resist the temptation of your touch, he rolled his hips into you. “This happens anytime you’re near me.”

Your mouth went dry at the same time warmth pooled in your core. “So you want me like I want you.”

His eyes finally opened as he searched your face. “You want me?”

Your response was pulling his hand from your shoulder and guiding him into your pants. He followed the suggestion, his two middle fingers slipping over your slit. You could feel how excessively wet you were already. So could he. “Oh you want me, alright.” Wrecker chuckled, his middle finger teasing your entrance. 

This time it was you who couldn’t resist moving. You gyrated your hips enough to get the tip of his finger inside you. Wrecker answered your touch by moving his finger and you cried out as he worked a second digit inside. “I’ve wanted you since the moment you pinned me.” You admitted.

He used his touch to lift you to your tiptoes. “You think you can take me?” It wasn’t a tease, he wasn’t challenging you. This was his asking permission.

“If I can’t,” You pressed your hand harder against his cock. “Then make me.”

“Where?” He asked and you answered with a quick nod in the direction of your bed.

Wrecker slipped his free hand beneath your ass and hauled up you up - two fingers still inside you. Walking to the bed, each of his steps pulled a noise from you as you bounced on his fingers. He plopped you both down on the bed, his back resting against your headboard.

Against your wishes, he removed his fingers from you and let you sit back in his lap.

“If we’re going to do this.” Wrecker gripped your hips and put little space between you “We take it at your pace.”

You didn’t wait for his permission as you started shedding your clothes, setting the tone early. The first to go was your top, your undergarments and all flicking over your head to the floor. Your nipples were already perked and aching for him - much like every other part of you.

“Then what are we waiting for?” You smirked as you started on your bottoms.

Wrecker grinned, a sight that almost made you moan, and sat up in bed. He pulled his top over his head, discarding it with yours. His burly chest was freckled in scars under curled hair. You momentarily dismounted him, wriggling from your bottoms as he did the same. There were only a few hot seconds until you sat naked on your knees next to him and he relaxed back in a similar state.

The trooper looked at you and his hand drifted to his cock. His cock that was even larger than you expected. Two fingers were definitely not enough of a preview for his girth. Wrecker’s fingers wrapped around himself, stroking as he watched you. “So beautiful.” He mumbled.

His words had you crawling over him, pinning his hand in place as you settled on top. Reading your movements, Wrecker met you as you leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss. He twisted his grip on himself, his knuckles grazing your folds, as he moaned into you.

You picked up the pace, frantic to taste as much of him as he could. While you sucked on his lip, Wrecker began positioning you on his cock. He was as desperate to be inside of you as you were for him.

With Wrecker’s help, you hovered over his cock. You were at the full height of your knees in order to line him up with you. Wrecker gave himself one more pump as his precum mixed with your wetness. 

His head was the first real warning of your task at hand. He was larger than you’d ever had and you were in no way ready to take him. An aspect that was making you even wetter. He didn’t slide in easily when you lowered yourself. You both moaned against the strain. “Wrecker.” You moaned into his mouth, a plea in his name.

“I gotcha.” He grasped your hip and kept a hold on his cock. Applying a steady strength, Wrecker pushed you onto his cock. When the flare of his head finally breached you, your back arched. “There we go,” he pressed you with a kiss, “that’s my girl.” 

The head of his cock already had you pushed to the limit, not helped by the fact you were already quivering for him. His size came with a pain you thought might end you and one that eagerly gave way to pleasure

“Wrecker.” You whined, a smile fluttering to your lips. Your hips undulated over him, working more of him inside of you.

A calloused hand slid up your stomach to cup your breast. Wrecker happily groaned as you moved farther down. “You feel so…” the grip you had on him pulled another groan from him. “So good.”

Wrecker supported you as you moved, consumed in watching you work him and the juices dripping down him. Each time you lifted off him, you lowered with a little more force to get more of him inside. Wrecker’s large form writhed beneath you, resisting as hard he could to not thrust up into you - he wanted you to adjust at your own pace. 

As you made a rhythm of burying him deeper inside you, Wrecker watched the shape of his cock bulge through your abdomen. Gently, he pressed a hand beneath your belly button and over the shape. The pressure sent a thrill straight to your clit, nearly undoing Wrecker with what it did to your pussy.

You were so taught around him, Wrecker feared he might literally tear you open. Though, any care he had for that was lost when your smile turned lazy and you leaned forward, arms hanging around his neck.

“Wrecker.” Each syllable came with another desperate thrust as you worked for his last two inches. You were at the limit of what you could do. “I need all of you. Please,” You tightened around him. “Just fucking ruin me.”

The plea had Wrecker rolling his eyes in time with his hips. He firmed up his hold on your hips, tilting your hips to rock his head against your abdominal wall. Wrecker brushed his lips against yours, “I jus’ don’t wanna hurt you.”

You took his bottom lip into your mouth with a gentle suck, then gently bit down until he gasped. “I don’t care.” You mumbled.

Still seated within you, Wrecker swung you onto your back. His hold on your hip suspended you in the air for him. He glanced down at where you two were joined, checking on the last bit of his length you were so hungry for. The contour of his cock already protruded through your stomach, more than anyone had ever taken him before. He really didn’t know if he’d manage the rest, but he wasn’t going to make you ask again. For you, he was determined, he was going to make it fit.

Wrecker drew back before pushing in with his own exploratory thrust. He lowered himself onto you so that he was all you could see, feel, and smell. You were eclipsed by him, hardly even able to angle your legs around him. Saddling a forearm next to your head, Wrecker kept a hand on your hip. “Now breathe, Mesh’la.”

The strange word barely reached you through your aroused fog. “Mesh’la?” You asked on an inhale, anchoring your hands on his shoulders.

He pulled back once more, as you inhaled and thrust himself firmly inside. “Beautiful.” He hummed into your ear. He didn’t stop moving when he bottomed out, he pushed through the strain, making you take him until he felt you give way entirely. You both gasped at the shared sensation. 

Wrecker pressed a kiss to your throat, smiling as he announced, “I’m all in.” Wrecked pressed another kiss to your throat and couldn’t stop grinding as you stretched around him.

You were speechless, only mewling and whining as you squirmed around him. “So full.” Each movement was tinged with pain as Wrecker stretched you completely. A sensation that flared into fervent pleasure the longer he spent inside her.

Wrecker angled your head for you to see what he’d done so far. You softly cried at the sight of a bulge below your belly button. As you watched, Wrecker rolled his hips back and thrust inside allowing you to witness him completely filling you. He hadn’t expected the way you moved in response nor how you began to relax around him.

Mindlessly, you moved yourself over him, pleasuring yourself as you rocked on his cock. Your G-spot was at constant attention as Wrecker pressed inside you.

“Ohh, you like that, don’t you?” He cooed warmly to you, moving his hips side to side against yours. 

Something in you snapped as gripped the back of his neck, forcing his eyes on you, and demanded. “Wrecker, I said, ruin me.” 

Wrecker chuckled eagerly as he obliged, moving against you with increasing speed. He lowered you both to pin you down by the hips. You braced yourself on your elbows as he mercilessly drove into you. He angled your hips just enough that he steadily brushed your clit. 

Pleasure built in you, winding tight every time Wrecker’s hips hit yours. You’d barely begun and already you were at the cusp of release. “Right there, right there, right there.” You chanted, begging with every breath for more. 

With every thrust, more heat hit your core and Wrecker felt the quaking of your core. He smiled and brushed a thumb over your lip before dipping it in past your teeth. Wrecker let you taste him for a moment before saying, “I wanna really fill you up.” Your eyes snapped to his as you smiled around his thumb. “Can I?” He asked desperately.

You eagerly nodded at him, pulling your mouth free to say, “Inside me, please.” 

His hips slammed into yours with all his might and as the first throb of his orgasm hit, you melted around him into your own. The way his cock throbbed pushed you further into delirium. As you adjusted, relaxed, and melted into your pleasure, Wrecker remained engorged and twitching inside you.

You lifted to give him a soft kiss. “That was amazing.” Wrecker hummed in response, something amusing in what you said.

“Oh, I’m not done yet.”

He pulled out of you just long enough to get his hands around you and position you onto your stomach. Wrecker lifted you by your hips, trapped you between his legs, and lined himself up with your pussy. Leaning over you, he guided your hand to sit under your navel. You could feel his cock he rammed into you, his massive size bulging against your hand. 

Wrecker leaned down to croon into your ear, “No one’s ever gonna be able to fill you again.” He started a pace of long, hard thrusts. He emptied and filled you with each thrust, making a mess of his seed already inside you. 

Pressing against the outline of his cock sent more heat to your clit, until a full body shiver wracked you. Your legs began to quiver and you clamped around him. “Wrecker,” You panted, nearly crying from the stimulation. “You’re going to make me-”

“That’s all I want.” He said and thrust into you with short, firm moves, coaxing you to release. “Cum with me, Mesh’la.”

You broke beneath him, contracting and shaking around him and he railed his cum into you. You felt his cum pumping out in thick ropes, felt your belly swell slightly from the sheer amount of his seed, before it leaked out around Wrecker.

You were panting messes by the end of it. Wrecker’s cock finally softened when he lowered you both to lay down on your sides, him still burried inside you. He gave your stomach lazy strokes as he nestled his face to your the crook of your neck.

“You okay?” He whispered.

Taking a moment to respond, you nodded. Thinking a moment longer, you twisted enough to offer him the soft spot below your ear. Wrecker took the silent offering, pressing kisses to your skin as you said softly, “I don’t think I’ll ever be the same after that.” 

A low laugh reverberated from Wrecker’s chest. “That makes two of us.” He lazily rolled his hip into yours. He rubbed his nose into your neck, smiling as he added. “Let me know when your ready for another round.”

[thedinanshiral]

In preparation for The Veilguard i'll be exploring some of the companions we already have information on from other Dragon Age media. I'l start with Lucanis Dellamorte, who already had an impressive introduction in the story The Wigmaker's job from Tevinter Nights, and an implicit silent role in the short story The Wake.

Lucanis Dellamorte, Master Assassin of the Antivan Crows. Grandson of Caterina Dellamorte, First Talon of the Antivan Crows, and chosen by her to succeed her.

His cousin Illario Dellamorte whom he often works with might resent him a little for being the favourite but Illario is Lucanis' favourite to succeed as First Talon, as he's got the "silver tongue" required for the politics of it Lucanis does not.

Both of them are described as lean with dark hair and umber eyes; Lucanis is described as "the kind of man you couldn't look away from- until he looked at you".

Despite the abuse from his grandmother during training that caused him to hate her, now in his adult years he understands her motivation was preparing him for this life, and while on the job still recites to himself the same nursery rhyme she did when they were children. It goes:

One for silence Two for surprise Three for good measure Four's excercise Five for a slaughter Six for the thrill Seven means more sovereigns Eight marks the final kill

Seems it's a rhyme reminding how many extra kills are necessary/acceptable in a mission that didn't call for them? But while Illario also remembers it they don't make any other comments on it.

Focused, centered on duty, Lucanis never misses the mark. He carries multiple knives, daggers and blades he takes care of personally and carefully. Mostly seems to take contracts on Venatori and Tevinter mages to the point he's grown acostumed to their magic and can sense them pulling at/tunning into the Fade. Yes, he can sense where the Veil is thin. The way in which he senses a mage using magic is as an itch behind his eyes, or as an annoying headache. The worse the headache the more magic is being used. He can track Venatori mages by headache alone.

He's not just a killing machine, he also knows his enemy's ways, in this case knowing such a corrupt mage would have to have an artifact in use to keep demons at bay. When he found and destroyed said artifact demons crossed the Veil and destroyed the wigmaker's party. This event is what earns him the nickname "the Demon".

As good as he normally is in this contract he let his personal feelings and morals interfere and rather than fulfilling the contract he prioritized the slaves escaping and the victims getting justice in the form of vengeance, considering what the wigmaker Ambrose had done didn't make him deserving of an easy death. A Magister named Zara Renata ends the story deciding, since the Crow is now a Demon, that since demons can't be killed but controled, and Lucanis showed his weakness -having a heart - , she'll find a way to manipulate him to her benefit.

In the short story The Wake Crows Viago and Teia drag a drunken Illario back to his room after someone's funeral and by Illario's comments seems the deceased was Lucanis. Illario says they were brothers more than cousins, and now in his absence he has no one to follow. He mentions as a child one time Lucanis read a book about wyverns and became obssessed with wyverns, took him hunting and both returned to their grandmother made an absolute muddy mess. It's curious how as affected as Illario is the other two Crows seem very much not, so an alternative intepretation could be the one who passed is Caterina, their grandmother, and now Lucanis is First Talon so Illario is lamenting their relationship won't be the same, at the same time he's lamenting he wasn't the chosen one, when he bitterly says "It should have been me".

Some colorful notes sprinkled here and there: when asked by Illario what he'd do if someone sees his face and talks, Lucanis says he'd just grow a beard. Seems he did:

In The Wigmaker's job when Illario complains about not having being told the specifics of the contract it's revealed Lucanis did inform him via a dossier he wrote himself. This coupled with his childhood wyvern obssession and the rest of his personality presented in Tevinter Nights tells me he's very possibly ND on some level.

During The Veilguard reveals we learn from devs that Lucanis likes coffee and is a good cook. His writer Mary Kirby confirmed on Twitter his VA is good and Lucanis will have an accent like previous Antivan characters did (Zevran, Josephine), said he is "the sole dumpster fire of the crew" and that she wrote him "specifically to be a bisexual disaster of a human" (source). In Tevinter Nights Lucanis recalls he once found himself walking into an orgy during a contract at a party and i quote, italics included "Getting out of that had been interesting", implying he may have joined in some capacity in order to get out of it.

In his companion tarot card we see his colors are black and purple, the backdrop is a stylized design of crows and behind and around Lucanis there's a purple design that looks like a wing made of eyes.

The pauldrons on his outfit also have a design of many eyes.

The back of his outfit has a bird -crow?- design as well, with a bigger single red eye

And it's not known yet how but during combat that part of his outfit projects a pair of purple wings.

This is likely how that ability looks in combat menu

Because of the purple and the eyes motif plus learning he's known as "the Demon" has made some very excited at the possibility he turns out to be possessed by a Pride demon. But as it turns out, knowing how this Demon nickname came to be, and that he's a Crow, spies and assassins who have "eyes everywhere", plus this wings combat ability i think it's safe enough to say no, he's not possessed, he's not another Anders, if there's a Pride demon walking around looking like a man that's more likely to be Solas than this Antivan handsome man.

Another detail is the other crow motif on his clothes, i think these are rather cute

Because of The Wake some propose Lucanis died and a demon rose him back from the dead or that he's possessed by a Pride demon because purple and eyes and all that, but as i proposed back in 2020 chances are Lucanis faked his death to escape his fate as successor to a position he had zero interest in, a role that was being pushed and forced on him with absolutely no consideration to his feelings or thoughts on the matter, or he is now First Talon, reluctanctly. Considering he thinks simply growing a beard is disguise enough and now in The Veilguard we see him with a beard tells me he is in fact hiding his identity to some, either because people think he's dead or because he doesn't want to be identified as the current First Talon.

[petriwriting]

Vero Amore - Theodore Nott X Reader (Part 2)

Summary: Theodore is on trial for being associated with voldemort due to his father and family history, His odds arent looking so good. Luckily for him you are called to the stand to testify on his behalf, and you just might be the key to his innocence.

Fluff, established previous relationship, Exbf!Theo, Older!Theo and others. Post hogwarts.

(Previous part)

You are eleven years old, riding the Hogwarts express all alone. You were shy, and had no clue what to expect. You kicked your feet as you watched the scenery fly by you, curiously waiting for what was to come. you were curious and wide-eyed, excited to explore a new world. you were lost in your imagination until the compartment door burst open, followed by an apology from a boy whose dark blue eyes seemed grateful. "Sorry," he said. "Everywhere else is full. Do you mind if I sit with you?" You nodded. After a few moments of silence you spoke up. "What's your name?" you asked innocently. "Theodore Nott." the boy said, holding out his hand to shake yours, a cordial gesture. You introduced yourself. after a few moments of innocent silence went by, you turned to the boy across from you. "Are you excited?" you ask. "what do you mean?" he says, he's clueless. "Are you excited to see hogwarts?" you ask, hoping to be cheerful. "oh," young Theodore begins. "Well it's just school, but I am excited to leave home." he says, you don't exactly know why he's happy about leaving his home. "I hear the castle is really pretty!" you offer. "I hope so!" he exclaims. 

The Memory began to fade into another, from your second year in school. 

The potions classroom was dark and smelly with many overwhelming fragrances from the many ingredients stored in the room. You had been partnered with Theodore for a potions class assignment, you were trying to brew a Wiggenweld potion, though without much luck. Theodore was flipping through the textbook, trying to understand why when you two had attempted to add the dittany leaves, they would sizzle and burn into a puff of smoke that smelled putrid. You had tried taking them off the stem, leaving the stem on, chopping them, but nothing seemed to get the desired result. you were growing a bit frustrated, but you persisted on anyway. "I have an idea," Theo walked over towards you and the cauldron, plucking a few dittany leaves and rolling them between his fingers, and then gently easing them into the cauldron. There was no sizzle, or pop, the plant seemed to dissolve into the potion effortlessly. This caught the attention of Professor Snape, who scurried over. "Good work, the two of you make a great pair." he said, standing over the cauldron. It was now turning the desired color, finally. "Who added the dittany leaves?" He asked. Before you could speak, Theodore spoke. "It was Y/N.  we couldn't get them to simmer properly so we tried something new." He said. This was a kind gesture, considering Professor Snape had given you a hard time beforehand on other assignments, Theodore thought it would be kind to let you take the credit, not that he didn't need it for himself. "Excellent work," Snape said, stepping back from the table. "50 Points to your houses will be awarded for your efforts." he said. You began to tidy up your workstation, Theodore helping as well to gather the ingredients as needed. Once class was dismissed, you turned to the boy. "you didn't have to do that." you said. "I wanted to." Theo insisted. "Snape has been giving you a tough time, So I thought you might appreciate the credit, and house points." he said with a slight chuckle. "I do appreciate it." you said softly. "Thank you." Theo turned back to face you and he smiled. when you had turned around you were very close to him, causing you to flush slightly. 

There you were, having your sweetest and most cherished memories watched by the jury as if they were one long movie. It wasn't embarrassing, but it was a refreshing experience. You hadn't thought about Theodore in three whole years, and now here you are sitting in a courtroom with him while he is on trial, his future is on the line. you thought about all the times he had fought for you, all the things he had done for you. If you could prove his innocence, maybe it would karmically be even and you could move on. You would always love him, and you were hoping the jury didn't pick up on this fact. 

"Our next inquiry, Mrs. L/N," the man began to speak again. It was the same man from before. "In regards to Mr. Nott's behavior, It is our understanding that you believe Mr.Nott to be a good citizen. Would you agree?" he asked. Without hesitation, you spoke. "Yes," you glanced back at him, Theo shifted in his seat listening intently. He was helpless. "I Believe this man is good, I know in my heart that he is a good person." The man did not seem convinced, and it was then that you really hoped you didn't come across as someone who was simply still in love with their ex. "Very well, then," he said. Everyone turned to view your memories once again. "We will see for ourselves. shall we?"

A scene from your third year at Hogwarts is painted for everyone to see. You are tired, frustrated and feeling low. You hadn't gotten your permission slip signed in time to go to hogsmeade, so you were staying behind while watching all your friends go off to have fun. you hated feeling left out and alone like this. It wasn't until you realized your new crush had also stayed behind. "you too, huh?" A thirteen year old Theo asked you. you sighed, "I didn't get my permission slip signed." you said quietly, watching everyone wander off away from the courtyard. "My father didn't want me to go." Theo says. "It turned into this huge argument..." Theo trailed off. "... So, here I am." He looked somewhat hurt. "Why don't we make the best of it?" Theo asks. you turn to him. "How?" you ask. "We could sit out by the lake, talk about all these losers going to hogsmeade without us," he said with a shrug. "That actually sounds nice." you admitted. You had liked him for a while, but of course you were young and scared to say anything. You didn't know until much later he had liked you since the first day you met. At the lake, the two of you laid out on the grass and looked at the clouds, making up their shapes into objects and animals and laughing over it. You had gently laid your head onto his shoulder, and you felt an arm snake around you as if to pull you closer. the air smelled like wildflowers and the bushy cedar trees that lined the lake in the distance. the chilly air danced through your hair as you were sitting on the grass with your faces illuminated in the afternoon warm glow. what seemed like hours passed, you finally sat up. Theo did the same, pulling away slightly. You hugged your knees to your chest, playing with a piece of grass between your fingers. Theo leaned forward, you were too shy to look at him, your heart was fluttering and full of that naive kind of young love. When you finally looked up at him, he brushed a piece of hair out of your face and smiled. "what is it?" you asked. "I just think you're pretty," he admitted, this time Theo became flustered and a bit blushed. It was the first time you felt yourself falling in love with him. "that's really sweet, teddy." you whispered. "here," theodore said pulling a wild flower off its stem and gently placing it behind your ear, you smiled softly as he gazed into your eyes. He pursed his lips before swallowing his pride, he wasn't brave but he could be. Theodore closed the gap between your lips, pecking you gently and sweetly.

[tenderleavesbob]

Wind hated when the others treated him like a little kid. A bunch of hypocrites, they were. Almost all of them had been full heroes by his age. Time wasn't so bad. Time had been Mask once, and Wind had been the older one then. Wind still thought of himself as Time's big brother. The wind and sea knew that Time could use all the big brothering he could get.

Throwing himself at Warriors like this didn't help how the others viewed him. Wind knew that. He also knew that wasn't the point. Time got it. Warriors? Warriors could be really clever, but he could be really stupid sometimes, too. Wind wasn't sure if he was being clever and quiet or stupid and oblivious. Wind wasn't going to ask, either.

All that mattered was that Warriors caught him in his arms now with a laugh. "You all right there, Sailor?" he teased.

Wind grinned at him and snuggled closer. They had been walking for hours, and everyone knew how much he hated that. The field seemed to go on forever and ever without any fun caves to explore or treasure to find. Boring. When Time called for a break at a small, shaded grove, Wind could have cheered. He settled for hugging Warriors instead.

"My feet hurt," Wind whined. He rested his head on Warriors's scarf. It was soft and warm from the sun and Warriors's body heat. "And I'm hungry. And I'm bored. And --"

Warriors cut him off with another laugh. Warriors spun in a quick circle, and Wind cackled when his feet left the ground. He was aware some of the others were watching them but didn't care. Warriors spun them both again and again until they were both laughing breathlessly.

"Poor little pirate boy," Warriors teased. He swayed a little when he stopped spinning. Wind guessed he was dizzy. Poor landlubber. He still held Wind close, so Wind swayed with him. "Wild is making lunch. If you're so bored, you can help him!"

"Noooo." Wind added a little extra whine to his voice, just enough to earn a grin from Warriors. "Why don't we nap instead? I'm tired!"

Warriors shook his head at him, but his eyes were warm and his smile was doting. Wind had him right where he wanted him. "We? You're the tired one!"

"But I want company!" Wind pulled out The Eyes that always got him extra soup at home and extra snacks during the war. Warriors's smile softened further. "Please?"

"Fine, fine." Warriors tightened his arms around Wind and dragged him to the nearest tree. "Just for a little bit. Lunch should be ready soon."

Wind could hear the others snickering and making quiet remarks. Not Time, though. Time got it.

Warriors settled them both against the tree and wrapped his scarf around them. Wind sighed and snuggled close, happy to feel Warriors's arms secure around him.

Wind was a hero, capable of sailing the high seas, defeating Ganondorf, and holding his own as a member of the chain. He was also a big brother and wasn't above using tricks to make sure his brother got his daily hugs and a needed nap.

If Wind was nothing else, he was a good big brother. It was okay that the others didn't get that yet. It didn't change his duty.

And he was tired. Warriors yawned above him, and Wind yawned against Warriors's scarf and closed his eyes. They could both use the nap.

[writingquestionsanswered]

So whilst I know you're not a therapist or psychologist, but you're a damn good writer with great advice; what can I do to tackle this? Could I know your own process? When you develop a plot and get to a part that needs something new - what do you actually do? How do you brainstorm effectively and... trust your decisions? I think my issue is a combo of autism (like going down a research rabbit hole just for shopping new things...) but also feeling distrustful because of past bad choices... 2/2

My Plotting Process

I think part one got eaten by the Tumblr goblins, because I couldn't find it anywhere. Unless I already answered part one and it isn't obviously related to this one, but I'll do my best here. :)

Just as there are people who can hop into the car with no map and no planning, and just drive across the country to some destination, there are writers who can sit down without an outline or plan, and write a story that somehow manages to hit all the requisite plot points. I'm not that person, in either case. I used Google Maps today to get to a place less than two miles from my house that I've been to twenty times, because I wasn't 100% sure exactly where it was or where I needed to turn for it. I'm the same way with writing. It doesn't matter how many novels I write, I still need the damn map. That's why I always outline and use various story structures as reference, according to feels right for the story I want to tell.

For people who are ND like you and me, and for other people prone to falling down rabbit holes, outlines have the added benefit of keeping you on track. If you're following a road map that tells you to stay on this road for two miles and turn left at the intersection, you're much less likely to turn down random roads and end up inadvertently exploring hidden neighborhoods and back country lanes. Outlines work the same way. If you know exactly what scene you're writing, what's going to happen in that scene and why, and what major plot point it fulfills or helps build toward, you're not going to get lost along the way.

So, when I get a story idea, the first thing I do is write out an exhaustive beginning to end summary with everything I know. Then, I look at Save the Cat! and start plotting out the story according to the plot points. Quite often, when I get to a plot hole, I can fill it out based on the previous or upcoming plot point. If not, I'll start looking at other story structures to see if that jogs something loose. Sometimes I'll realize that structure just works better for the story I'm trying to tell, and I'll replot the whole thing according to that structure. I might plot my story using three or four different structures or a combination of a few before I settle on one that works for the story. Once I have the structure hammered out, I start making a list of necessary scenes to encapsulate, build-up to, or ramp down from the various plot points. Once I have my scene list, I write out a beginning to end scene summary for each scene so I know what has to happen. I think about things like conflict of the scene, how it begins, what happens in the middle, and how it ends. I think about the character's goal in the scene, and how the scene builds upon the scene before it and leads up to the scene after it. And, with my scene list in hand, I'm usually good to start writing. If I hit things that don't quite work out or need more fleshing out, I might refer to other story structures, or I might even write out my scenes on scene cards and see if moving things around makes a difference. The important rule is I never let myself feel limited by the structure I'm using or have created. I know it's just there as a guide, and it's okay to stray from it if need be. I always follow my gut, and knowing when to trust my gut is just something I've learned over many, many years of writing. You'll get there, too, but you have to take calculated risks before you can build up that sort of trust with yourself.

I hope that answers your question well enough! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[iamtotallycool]

Echo Alone

After watching Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes, Mae and her life before and after the movie is such a fascinating aspect. And if they continue to have her character (HOPEFULLY) there is so much to explore.

Enjoy!!

The wind howled across grassy plains.

A plump brown rabbit moved through the tall grass nose twitching. A sudden snapping of a twig made it freeze, animalistic instincts kicking in.

All was silent and still for one tense moment.

And in a split decision, the rabbit jumped out of the reach of a snare trap and was able to race off with its life for another day.

Much to the chagrin of its hunter.

"Fuck!"

Mae jumped up from where she was crouched down in the grass.

She walked over to the trap with heavy steps, knowing the inevitable. That there wasn't nothing wrong with the trap, but rather she had been impatient.

Discipline and stealth. Discipline and stealth.

How could she make such a simple mistake?

She huffed some arrant strands of hair from her face, and looked up to the sky, noting the sun's position. She would have to swallow her frustration and resume her hunt later.

Gathering her supplies, she headed out.

She followed the worn-down desire path made by the local fauna, until a large half over-grown circular sign reading 'Randy's Donuts' came into view.

Mae crouched into a hidden hole of the building, now in the security of her base. She dropped her load into a corner of the room that served as her sleeping area, washroom, kitchen, and any other purpose needed.

The coals in the central fire pit had died out, but without a kill, there wasn't a point to restart it now. Not when she would need to possibly head out soon. So, she settled for one of her MRE's stash for now.

Mae opened a basic brown packet, teeth ripping into the dry jerky. However, even her loud chews weren't enough to mask the silence of her shelter.

She quickly went over to the counter and fiddled with the ham radio. No voices came through, it wasn't the usual time for her to receive calls, but even just the sound of static made this place feel less...`primitive.

Mae had already done what she could not feel her base so constricting: setting up a cot, extra lamps for light source, and even extra bullets for her gun.

After her success of doing the impossible of bringing the key to communication back to humans, her reputation as valuable agent was solidified.

Since then, she had been in communication with the main bunker, and receiving missions to collect other supplies they were in desperate need of. And until she was inflicted by the ALZ-113, she was happy to be of use.

Perhaps after her next delivery, she could ask for a book. Something to help pass the time in between.

It been a very long time since Mae had enjoyed a book for leisure.

How young would she have been? 5 years old? 4?

It must have been around then, because that's when she would've begun survival training along with the other kids her age:

Identifying poisonous plans, remembering sequences, starting fires, hand-to-hand combat, weapons training. All of that, to get to the top of the cadets and be chosen for an extraordinary mission. One essential of humankind.

Even if that meant she could never go back to the bunker she called home.

Mae gave another laborious chew of the jerky and thought about being back in the canteen. Missing not the food, but the conversation. Did anybody even miss her?

Disgust rolled in Mae's stomach at the traitorous thought, causing her to almost spit out the jerky. Mae steeled herself though, she couldn't waste the calories.

No one had forced her to sign up for this mission. No one lied to about the risk she would be taking.

Glory for the Whole.

She had just thought she wouldn't be out here on her own.

But Proximus Ceaser had stolen all that from her, killing her entire party. Embodying everything she had been warned about the evolved Apes that had taken over.

BUT...there were also others that had disproven all of that.

Mae swallowed hard the lump of jerky.

She thought about the last time she saw him. Noa.

His village was already being rebuilt, Clan back together, going about their routine lives. As if nothing had changed.

No. Even she could say that not nothing had changed.

The way he had looked at her. He had once called her a pest, but at the moment, he had looked directly into her eyes, seeing her as his equal.

Her hand went to Raka's important necklace that was still around her neck.

"Can Apes and human live together?"

She didn't know how to answer then.

And she still didn't know even now.

Living together after so much separation seemed like a fantasy. And there was no time for fantasy.

Perhaps...allies though. Help each other for a time. Trade was surface level cooperation enough. Fresh fish wasn't even something the main bunker had. I'm sure she had something safe she could offer.

Would Noa even accept that though? Would he ever truly want to see her again?

"Breaker. Breaker," a voice crackled loudly through the radio. Mae's senses immediately went into high alert.

"This is Alpha base to Scavenger, over."

Mae gave the pendant one last squeeze before dropping her hand.

Her purpose was for her kind.

Because if it wasn't, then what was she even surviving even for?

"Alpha Base, this is Scavenger, over."

[rosalinabloom]

People want complex female characters but then can't handle Lois Lane in MAWS.

[nebulouscoffee]

bashir garak or ezri

Oooh great picks! I shall answer for all three😊

Julian

one aspect about them i love

That whole backstory with Kukalaka is SO endearing honestly; it really just gets to the heart of who he is, even by itself- but when paired with the whole 'Jules' reveal, it takes on a whole new poignancy

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

I've seen Julian described as naive a lot, usually because he "assumes the best of people"- and I'm not saying that isn't a valid read, but it just feels very incomplete to me! Yes he's childish sometimes, but he's not a baby lol- he's just strongly, strongly driven by the belief that people can always become better. We see him get VERY angry and snarky and (fearlessly) combative with people he believes are in the wrong; people who don't show any flexibility in their perspectives. But the moment a person shows any sort of inclination towards growth or evolution? He puts everything aside and believes in them. To me, this is not naivety- this is courage; even if (especially if!) he may get it wrong sometimes. DS9 (like the real world) is full of people who'll insist that wrongdoers will never change and only deserve to be punished for their mistakes- and imo, Julian makes a fascinating, refreshing, and essential foil to this. (On a more specific note- he does NOT hang out with Garak because he doesn't fully understand the atrocities Garak committed!! Not beyond 'The Wire', anyway. He literally heard (and at the time, fully believed) multiple stories involving Garak being 1. a Gul during the Occupation, 2. a mass murderer (with victims both Cardassian and Bajoran), and 3. an interrogator of literal children. If not the exact details, he certainly knows the magnitude of Garak's crimes- he just chooses to go to great lengths to save his life anyway. This says something way more interesting about him, I think- about his inclination to believe in anyone he thinks would grow better if given the chance, and his willingness to be the one giving them that chance. Which, incidentally, is also why I struggle to see him cutting off his parents, though I do understand why people find value in reading & writing stories like that)

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

He is a polyglot, but this is one skill he very much keeps to himself. The reasons why are complicated, and linked with how his ideas of home and family and lineage and history and Earth and connection and talking and talkative-ness and "skill" are all somewhat tainted by the discovery of what his parents did to him

one character i love seeing them interact with

SO many options, but let's talk about Jadzia- I love how they moved past the initial awkwardness of Julian's crush on her into this deep, supportive, fun (!!!) and extremely loving bond. There's a lot they have in common (Extreme Imposter Syndrome Buddies :D) which means they always know when the other needs a good pep talk, and it's adorable. I love how they have no boundaries sometimes (Jadzia buying him porn will always be funny), I love that they're in cahoots, I love that they make each other laugh- they care about each other so much!! I honestly think it was one of the best-written friendship arcs between a male and female character on Trek, which is why I'm always so *sighs deeply* about Julian's feelings for Jadzia being dredged up again in- ///cuts myself off because you've heard this rant before from everyone and their moogie haven't you///

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

Fascinating conversations Julian Bashir and Kira Nerys could've had (my beloved): long-term health issues in Bajoran mining victims & Resistance fighters; nature vs nurture and their "dangerous" Augment/Mirror selves; Sisko as Commanding Officer vs Sisko as Emissary; nerding out over Bajoran music; why must Jadzia Dax be so beautiful; complicated connections with cultural roots; Kirayoshi & postnatal care; the concept of "forgiveness"; revisiting that "frontier medicine" scene to highlight how much they've both changed; Kira offering a kinder approach to "Jules Bashir died in that hospital" through the concept of a pagh

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

He never, ever let the whole Jem'Hadar thing go. In fact, he actually set up this secret rehabilitation centre in Goran'Agar's name after the war, which now provides intensive care for all the Jem'Hadar and Vorta left behind in the AQ. He told me himself :)

Garak

one aspect about them i love

It's been years since my first watch, but I'll never forget how excited I got every single time I saw "Special Guest Star Andrew Robinson" in the credits lol. You just know you're in for a great one; he's such a fantastic and scene-stealing character!

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

I just feel like, for a character whose most famous line is "They're all true, [especially the lies]", there is WAYYY too much discourse about him that approaches him from extremes? And it always misses the point imo. Garak was a spy, assassin, interrogator and torturer for the Cardassian government, who participated in (or at the very least, aided) a colonial and genocidal occupation, and expresses supremacist, xenophobic and fascist beliefs for the majority of the series. Erasing any of this is would be erasing not just who he was, but who he is. But the lack of imagination re how to move forward with him if we are engaging with such themes is equally, if not more, frustrating to me. Sure, a lot of the cutesy art and fanfics can have him behaving overly sincere and out of character- but the counter response is always "how dare you woobify this racist war criminal he's violent and dangerous and bigoted and therefore he would NOT do or say or feel any of that!!!", and- okay, so is the idea of him designing and sewing dresses out of character, then...? Is the image of him debating books over lunch with a bib tucked in too woobified? Is the notion of him trying to set up a fellow (Bajoran!!) business owner on a date too fanfic-ey? Because guess what- that's literally how he behaves on the show! Garak is a self-aware self-woobifier, that's literally the whole point, he's "just a plain simple tailor" wink, wink- and without at least some element of that comical mundanity, that sort of absurdist domesticity, the character just isn't recognisable imo. Garak is the con artist who fell for his own con; he's spent so long playing various roles that he now over-performs everything and has no idea where the performance ends and the genuine begins, literally what makes his character work is that you're looking at this war criminal just doing benign stuff like sampling drinks or watching a tennis match or gifting his friend chocolates and wondering just WHAT is going on inside his head- and, "he did horrible things and therefore must be incapable of any form of sincerity or affection or regret and the perception of any of those things is woobification" is such a reductive (and boring!) approach to him imo. I don't mean any of this as apologia; there are many, many ways in which a person can be bigoted and cruel, and Garak is those things- I just feel like people often misrepresent the manner in which he is those things (usually by making him unfunny and weirdly macho, which I just cannot understand at all😂)

TL;DR- Garak the poor sad misunderstood baby who never enjoyed any of the bad things he did and only thinks about Julian Bashir 24/7 is out of character, sure- but Garak the violent emotionless villain who treats all Bajorans abusively 24/7 and will never ever grow or change is... just as divorced from canon imo (imo!! Emphasis on "o"!!)

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

Garak himself doesn't always fully remember the details of his past; he has this very Cardassian ability to specifically delete anything he wants to from his memory, and he's better at it than most (though, still not always successful). Only thing Garak regularly tops is the List Of People Garak Lies To basically

one character i love seeing them interact with

Well, apart from the obvious- I think every scene between him and Odo in IC/TDIC is incredibly immersive and top tier! The actors are SO good together, and the only reason Odo isn't in the next category is I actually think it's perfectly in character for both of them to just never bring up the whole torture thing ever again

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

KIRAAAAA but tbh, I'm more interested in their post-canon dynamic than anything, so instead I'll go with Sisko! Every time these two are on screen together, amazing. The effortless back and forth. The intellectual battling. The subtly flirty line deliveries(!!!) The palpable shifts in the power dynamic. The oddly respectful snarking. Again, the way these two actors are SO GOOD

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

Some may claim that Garak hates the more outlandish civilian outfits that Jake and Julian wear. I say he made them

Ezri

one aspect about them i love

The sheer impact of actually getting to spend a whole season with the next Dax (after years of only hearing about Curzon) just cannot be overstated imo. Like, we the audience got to experience firsthand what it was like for Benjamin to first see Jadzia walk out of that shuttle; for Jadzia to wake up one day and find herself the newest link in a long-revered chain- we actually saw the new host struggling to adjust, reconciling all those lifetimes of memories all over again, rekindling and redefining Dax's old relationships (the relationship with the audience very much included!)- and then on top of that, the new host wasn't even trained to take on the symbiont?? What an incredible character premise! I was obsessed from the moment she said "Hello Benjamin it's me Dax"

one aspect i wish more people understood about them

Ezri is Jadzia's successor; not Jadzia's replacement. She cannot replace Jadzia- that's literally the entire point of her arc, that she should stop trying! She's a fascinating character in her own right, and also extremely interesting to think about and discuss independent of whom she will end up/should've ended up with

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have about this character

Ezri Tigan was not "anxious" in a rambly nervous way like Ezri Dax, but more hyper-competent and "I'm always unhappy because everything I do HAS to be perfect so I'm never satisfied and I hate myself" (which was definitely how she was trained to think by her mother). For this reason, joining with Dax actually ends up being good for her in the long run! Nothing drives an oppressive voice out of your head quite like suddenly having eight other voices in there lol

one character i love seeing them interact with

I know some people don't like her and Worf mistakenly thinking they're in love and hooking up and then realising they work better as friends, but I actually think it's very understandable for both of them, and the friendship they form afterwards is so wholesome. That scene where he asks for her advice and she just calls out corruption in the Klingon empire is one of my favourite Ezri scenes ever :D

one character i wish they would interact with/interact with more

It is my firm belief that Sisko and Ezri's S7 arcs should have revolved around each other. Ben's journey at this point is so tied up in his ever-growing disconnect from linear time and corporeality, and imo nothing grounds this better than his three-lifetime bond with Dax! He should have talked about the Prophets and Benny Russell and the whole concept of destiny with his favourite old worm. It also would've been revelatory for Ezri, who herself is trying to adjust to the non-linearity (300 years of memories she can't easily get in order) and non-corporeality (whose body IS this anyway???) of being Dax

one (or more) headcanon(s) i have that involve them and one other character

I know we all have our theories as to why and how and when exactly she and Julian break up, and while I do enjoy the drama sometimes, I still fundamentally feel like it would be short and amicable and they'd remain close friends for life. Or maybe I'm just a big sap hehe

[stormyoceans]

Hello Monica! How do you like "Hidden agenda"? I didn't want to watch because of Dunk's bad acting. How do you like the show? Did Guy and Podd appear in it?

hello to you too, anon!!!!

MMHHMMMM I MEAN. i can't say im disliking the show because it's a very mindless and easy watch, there's nothing in it that bothers me to the point it makes me want to drop it, but at the same time there's also really nothing in it that i find particularly interesting ;;;;;;;

what frustrates me the most is the lack of screentime and the wasted potential of most of the characters tbh. we're at episode 6 and basically know nothing about them: guy and arm, for example, showed up exactly for 0.3 seconds in two episodes and we didn't learn anything new about them outside of what the character descriptions that came out before the show started already told us. they had such brief on-screen moments that i can't even remember their characters' name ;;;;;;; even jeng and pok (aou's and boom's characters respectively), who are the side pairing of the show, have had VERY limited screentime and most of their storyline from the mock trailer seems to have been completely scrapped from the script, which is a pity considering that aouboom have a nice chemistry and that a lot of people were looking forward to get more of them as a pairing

i guess i probably wouldn't mind it as much if joke and zo had a stronger plot, but unfortunately the agenda has never really been hidden and joke's only personality trait seems to be being in love with zo, so it just leaves me wanting for MORE. i know we're only halfway through the show so there's plenty that still can happen in the time we have left, but we're also ALREADY halfway through the show and i think they could have handled all of the characters way better

tl;dr: i don't dislike it, but up until now it's been very forgettable and i wouldn't really recommend it ;;;;;;

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

i am Thinking about nine and his hair, how his relationship with it and autonomy, and with caring for himself through it--and lack of such--are so much of a direct response to the type of abuse he went through from sandor, and to escaping from it, and how it is a near perfect foil to five's relationship with his hair and augh AUGH chews on a table it's so interesting and i could write so much about it, i really really wish they had kept NL!nine for that alone

[zevranunderstander]

A thing ive been thinking about for years and years and years is. The Selection (you know those really mid hunger games ripoff books that everyone keeps joking about) has a core premise that is actually quite different and unique from hunger games and you could have gone off the hinges with this if you weren't an absolute centrist coward, with milquetoast, unreflected politics. but now I can't write this book that I am seeing in this story because I can't just rip off the premise of the book, you know??

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day.

***

The door slammed shut, making you jump and bump against the edge of the counter that you stood at before the sink, finishing up a few stray dishes that had been left from the night before. You turned to see Simon standing there in the doorway, stiff as a goddamn board with only his eyes clocking the room to find you and locking on to your form like a beast ready to pounce.

"Pants off...now," he demanded, his voice metered and firm as he removed the mask covering his features.

"Well, hello to you too," you chuckled as you crossed your arms over your chest, but he was not in a picking mood. "What's up?"

He took a calming breath; it wasn't your fault his mood had been soured today and he didn't need to upset the only person that could turn this all around. "It's been a fuckin' day, luv. Need something to take the edge off before I send someone to the goddamn morgue. So, again, pants off…please."

This wasn't the first time you'd encountered this specific Simon before; his short, gruff sentences were an obvious indication that he has had an absolutely rotten fucking day and was completely over it already. And because this wasn't your first time you knew what he wanted…

…what he needed to let all that stress go.

Slowly you undid the button of your pants, pulling down the zipper before slipping your hands inside the waistband and sliding your jeans down off your legs. Once you removed them from around your ankles you tossed them to the side and stood there in your panties and tank top, waiting for him to give you your next instruction. Like a flash he moved in and was now on top of you, enveloping you entirely with his hulking form as it fit against your curves until your backside was being indented by the edge of the countertop.

Hot, hungry lips scrambled to aggressively connect with your own, fighting for dominance as the back and forth of the dance continued with each passing second. He let himself go to become consumed by you, unable to find a pause to take a breath as he all but devoured you whole until there was nothing left in his mind but you.

Those large hands with their thick, rough digits pawed desperately at the warm, soft skin of your bare hips, grasping as much meat between them that they could hold. All those curves, all the smooth, voluptuous flesh ready to be caressed, it was enough to drive him insane; how fucking lucky he was to have it all at his disposal now to help cure his bad day?

God you were a fucking feast and he was starving.

The connection between your lips was broken sloppily and with haste, a sting of spittle connecting your lips sparkling in the light as he pulled away. Simon hurriedly grabbed the hem of your tank top and ripped it up and over your head, letting your breasts drop and jiggle with the reverb as they were set from their cage.

"Fuck," he groaned under his breath with a sharp inhale through his teeth as he latched those lips back on to your own. "That's a sight that could do me in."

On the move he leaned his tall head lower as those raw lips began to explore further down along the curve of your neck, the line of your shoulder, and finally coming to those beautiful breasts which he immediately sucked into his mouth. The suction was intense as he used the very tip of his tongue to circle those perky rosebuds until he felt them stiffen against the roof of his mouth and your body twitch from the tingly feeling it gave off that shot up your spine.

Whatever you were doing before this felt like a distant memory as his attention grew your arousal so that your body responded in kind to him just the way he wanted. He switched sides on your chest, not wanting the first breasts twin on the other side to get left out. Simon only moved on after your hips began to grind against the bulge growing at the front of his pants.

His lips continued down the line of your body as he knelt to the ground before you, ready to put everything into worshiping that sweet pussy he loved so goddamn much. Over your sternum and stomach all the way down to your pelvis his lips caressed until they reached a roadblock covering those last few inches to his destination. That was quickly dealt with as his fingers wrapped around the waistband of your panties to slide them down your thighs, letting his lips keep going all the way to the mound of your sex; only then did he pause.

"Spread," he demanded again as his hands tapped at your inner thighs, his message being short and sweet and to the point. "I'm fuckin' endin' this day on a high note. I'm not stopping' till I'm on the goddamn verge of death by suffocation, so don't ya even try to move, luv."

You widened your stance with the guidance of his hands until there was enough space to allow his face to fit between them. Hands back on your hips, holding them as handlebars so that he could incline his face against your cunt he dove in.

Your petals were so warm, so silky, and it felt good on his mouth as he kissed that other lovely set of lips a few times, sighing as he was finally able to relax in his favorite place.

"Here we go, baby," Simon breathed into you as he extended his tongue and drug it over the slit between your legs until he had split you open, rubbing the muscle through the small accumulation of your juices to coat his tongue.

Goddamn were you sweet tonight. "Mmmm mmmm," his deep, garbled hum vibrated deliciously on your clit as the taste of you filled Simon's mouth and tingled on his taste buds.

…And then he began to move the pad of his tongue…

Over and over his tongue engaged your core. "Fuck, Simon," his name fell from your lips as his tongue began to make you writhe against his face.

"Again," he said in that gruff growl as he pulled from your for only a second.

You knew exactly what he meant for you to do. "Simon," his name was beautifully moaned from you once more as he focused all his efforts on that small bead of nerve endings at the top innermost part of your cunt.

The sound of your soft, breathy voice calling out to him made the previously enraged Lieutenant fucking crack at the seams and any trace of that rage-inducing day was suddenly completely gone; replaced by a fire to make good on his promise to desperately lap at you for as long as it took until his skin was infused with your scent and he was fully satisfied.

He moved up even tighter against your core, locking on so that even as you bucked there was no chance he would fall off until he was good and fucking ready to let you go. Shit he was pushing you to the limit of what you could take, your body aching wildly as his strike hit precise and deliberate every time until you were right at the cusp of your pleasure. God, his pace was relentless.

Overwhelmed with the intense gathering of warmth in your belly, your toes began to curl together over top of the floor as you scrambled to keep your breathing steady through the growing euphoria. How were you supposed to force yourself to intake air when all your functioning had been redirected straight to that pleasure sensor in your brain?

That thought had little time to gain traction as that feeling of impending pleasure had reached its peak.

Suddenly you were spilling violently, crying out as you tried to move him from you, but Simon was in this till the end. He kept at it until you had ridden it out to completion and finally settled, your heavy panting becoming softer and more drawn out.

You thought that that was it; the finale had been reached and all was good right? You could not have been more wrong. A wet flash of a smirk crossed his lips as he stood back up before you.

Without even a verbal warning his hands were suddenly digging into your sides as he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, carrying you out of the kitchen and into the bedroom where he sat you on the surface of the bed. Reaching with one of his hands over his shoulders he gripped the fabric of his shirt in his grasp and pulled until it came off over the top of his head, throwing the useless article to the floor before stalking towards the bed.

"On ya knees baby," he grunted as he hurriedly laid down on his back beside you further up towards the head of the bed. "Over my face. Now."

Simon pulled at your arm until you moved, his need to be smothered between your thighs causing him to rush. Grabbing on to the headboard for leverage you knelt over his head.

Your petals glistened with the sticky cum and saliva mixture he had just created as he ate his first course, but there was still plenty to get lost in and he was more than ready to dive back into it.

Greedy hands rubbed up and down the smooth skin of your thighs. "Sit," he commanded and you bent your legs until you were just above his nose, but that wasn't good enough; he didn't need you being gentle, he needed you to give him what he wanted - to let him drown in you.

"No hoverin', I said sit," he hissed as he quickly moved his hands to your hips and wrenched them down so that you had no choice but to lower yourself until your pussy was completely flush against his face like a chair.

His breath hitched not just from the instant lack of available oxygen, but because the feeling of being completely enveloped by your pussy was akin to being high; he was on cloud fucking nine just suffocating against you.

The headboard thumped against the wall from your arms shaking as full contact was made again along your core after just having come. The tears stung your eyes, your over-stimulated clit so sensitive it almost hurt. His grip on your hips didn't let up, keeping the pressure tight so that there was no chance of escape, even though you wriggled in search to ease up a little.

There was still some fight left in you; that simply wouldn't fucking do as it meant he hadn't finished the job and he was anything but thorough. Simon needed you completely spent and too exhausted to even move a goddamn inch.

"I-I can't…I can't," you pleaded with him as you squirmed over top of his stark features like anything you said would persuade him to give up.

You could hear his voice in your head, you knew what he'd say if he could talk at that moment. "Oh yes you can sweetheart. You're gonna fuckin' take it all for me."

I mean look at that big boy, he could eat and that meant all types of meals, you included most of all.

As if a nonverbal response to your mewling, his tongue picked up in speed, stroking wildly against your clit with reckless abandonment. Your fingernails were digging into the wood of the headboard, thighs vibrating against Simon's ears as each movement of that deadly appendage brought you closer and closer to your second harsh release.

"Bastard," you whined.

He gave your hips a hard squeeze. Call me what you like baby, he thought, you're still gonna fuckin' come as many times as I want.

So warm, so wet, so soft, gasping for air... He was in heaven.

Unconsciously your hips began rocking along with the thrusts of his tongue, riding him just as he worked and that familiar feeling in your stomach returned. Seconds passed…or was it minutes? Hours? Time seemed to pass differently when he was eating you out.

All of a sudden you stopped rocking, pressing your pussy as hard as you could against his face, and with a few more hard strokes you cried out as you came violently, slamming into the headboard as your thighs clamped down around Simon's ears.

"S-s-shit…" you whimpered as you ground out the last drop of your ecstasy until Simon tapped your thigh to be set free.

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed bright red, you fell down on the bed beside him, unable to move a muscle save for your head. Turning your face towards him you were met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes, face absolutely drenched from eyebrows to chin in a thin layer of your cum.

He reached out to you, his palm cupping over the entirety of your cheek. "You did so fuckin' good for me sweetheart," he praised, thumb rubbing over the supple skin there. "So fuckin' good that I think ya deserve a break…but I don't think I'm finished quite yet."

"Oh?" you questioned back through heavy breaths, eyes wide. More?

He chuckled in that deep vibrato as he rolled over to kiss your forehead. "Well… ya see… it was a really fuckin' bad day."

You hadn't planned on dying today, but if Simon got his way he would be setting up your funeral later tonight, but there were worse ways to go…right?

[apocketfullofhobbits]

watched rwrb finally and i already knew they cut out my favorite storyline and character before i watched it but damn they really did :(

[notthestarwar]

@dukeoftheblackstar and heres another snippet from the same fic which i think gives a kinda sympathetic view to mace. i've taken this straight from my drafts so i'll leave the old tags there. now i'm gonna reblog some pro mace posts lol but i wont tag you in those cause i think i've probably tagged you in enough at this point lol

This snippet is from 'When is a monster not a monster? Oh, when you love it'

It's from Chapter 7, ghost Mace is explaining to past Jaster what he knows of Jango's life, in the future. Here, he's describing the moment he killed Jango and his feelings in the aftermath.

In the midst of the battle, a man started shooting at me. We fought, it was a brutal thing, I was barely keeping up in spite of the Force. I did not know who he was or why he was shooting for me but I did know that if I ceded any space at all, he would take it and I would be dead.

In the end, I came out on top. I can't say I was intending for it, I was just trying to make contact in any place I could, but I caught him with my saber between his helmet and chest plate. He died, after I decapitated him and it wasn't until after the fact that I discovered that he was the one I had been searching for all those years before.

As a young Knight I set out to bring Jango Fett home, to right a wrong, but I was unable to find him. I had thought of him, often. The wrong I had not been able to right for my people. The man I could not save. And then, I stepped on to a dusty planet that I hardly knew, for reasons I hardly understood and I killed a man.

Jaster swallows. When Mace looks at him, honestly paints his face and regret curls at the edges.

"Quite without knowing it, I had killed the one I hadn't been able to save, years after the fact."

His son.

"I hadn't saved him but he survived all the same. He didn't need me to save him, he'd saved himself. I'd thought him dead but he lived to walk up to me all those years later. He survived that slave ship so that he might die at my hand years later."

The fact that he's sorry for it doesn't really cushion the blow. This is the man that killed his son. He is dead because of Jango but in a far off future, Jango is dead because of him.

How did he die? This Jedi? He had time to discover Jango's identity after the battle so he must have survived it. Did he later die of wounds Jango gave him? Jaster thinks not. None of this has been easy, none of this is simple. There remains a weight in the air, the burden of the remainder of Jango's story. An oddity considering it should end here.

He looks back to Windu, watching his face.

"I did not mean to kill your son Jaster. I meant to save him, but I was quite unable. The idea of him haunted me as steadily as any ghost and then, I killed him. I didn't know who he was when I struck and I did not know when he fell that he had already killed me, long before that day. It would be three years before my heart would stop but I was dead from the day Jango Fett landed on Kamino."

"I did not intend it, but I did it all the same. I am sorry that I killed him and I have to live with that regret even now, in death. I remain here knowing that I killed the man I was intending to save, the man who I had never forgotten failing."

Jaster is a warrior. He knows what a fight to the death is like. He has known the ferocity that an adult Jango would hold long before he knew that in a later time, the galaxy would know his son as 'The Jedi killer'. What a title. Jaster had not wanted this life, the one that from Mace's perspective has already passed, for his son. He wanted something kinder, easier, for him. It hadn't happened. Jaster had been unable to give that to him.

Mace didn't have any choice but to kill him but, all the same, as a father it is Jaster's right to hate him, just a little, for taking his sons life.

Jango deserved better than the galaxy that had delivered him to this Jedi on that day. He deserved better than the life that had shaped him in to the man that would attack this Jedi and lose. He deserved, parents that wouldn't die before he had finished growing, a second chance that worked out differently. He deserved everything and anything Jaster could give him and maybe, even that could not be enough. Could never be enough.

Mace looked at him. "Everyone in that hall is there because Jango is responsible for their death. I am not sure if the same can be said for me. Jango is responsible for my death but is that the reason I linger?"

The Jedi looks far away. "He haunted me far before he ever died and now I haunt him far before he ever killed me. He lined up the pieces of my death long before I met him in that arena. And I killed him long before he killed me. Time is not linear for the dead, but in the case of Jango and I it is even less so. The story of our haunting is a circular thing and in truth, I can not really say who of us is haunting who

He meets Jaster's eyes. "We are here to discuss why we haunt Jango. But it would be remiss of me to not tell you that your son has haunted me every single day since I left on a mission to retrieve him, to try and offer reparations for what my peoples neglect brought down on him, and came home empty handed."

"We thought him dead, but I did not forget him. From that day, I've carried the weight of what we did to him. I have often thought of him over the years. You hold no blame here, but we just might."

I love this bit. To me it's very clear that Jango's death was largely Jango's fault. In this fic, Mace finds himself on Galidraan with little understanding of why he's there, just trying to act in the moment to defend himself and other Jedi. Jango starts shooting at him, clearly shooting to kill. Mace knows that he's in danger, he knows that if he dies (because Jango intends for one of them to die. He will not stop until one of them is dead.) Jango will go on to kill more Jedi until one of them gets the upper hand, and so Mace acts in a way that is very understandable and defends his life with all he has. He's reacting rather than planning any of this, Jango is not giving him a chance to think about any of it, so when Jango is about to get the upper hand, Mace takes the only move available to him, and goes for his neck.

It's understandable, he had no choice, and yet, because of who Mace is, I think he'd find it very difficult to come to terms with having killed someone in that way. It's horribly violent (lightsaber deaths always seem to be??? Decapitation isn't quite bisection but it's not great. However, I think such a thing would be even harder for Mace to confront than it was for Obi Wan.) and I think Mace would struggle to accept that he really didn't have any choice, and anyone would have done the same.

And then!!! This Mace, is a Mace that has been metaphorically haunted by Jango ever since he 'failed to save him'. To know that Jango was out there to find all along and Mace just didn't manage it? That Jango didn't need Mace to escape, but that he suffered for longer thanks to his own rescue being left to him. That in that suffering, he became the kind of man, that would be in the arena, forcing Mace to kill him. That had Mace done anything about this constant reminder (was that a sign? From the force?) of Jango for all these years, he could have helped Jango. He might have stopped him doing what he did with the clones. He might have helped him process what had happened, so that Jango didn't end up on a suicide mission, determined to throw himself head first in to fights he can barely win, only so he can try and repent for not dying with the rest of them, the first time or the second.

Mace was a master Jedi, if anyone could help someone work through trauma, it was him. (His struggle to process it all himself is 100% not a sign of his ability. You can understand how to healthily process emotions to the n th degree, but it won't stop you being human and falling to human difficulties. He is the best person to help anyone else through this stuff, but when it comes to himself, he's too close. That's why Jedi help each other work through stuff.) But Mace wasn't there, because he didn't think Jango was out there. In spite of this constant lingering reminder at every step, he didn't look. And so Jango carried on, hating that he survived, living only to carry out this corrupted form of justice, until he finally met the end that he thought he should have met years before.

Mace couldn't help him, and then, he ended up doing the worst thing possible for him. He gave him this violent death, that in Jango's grief and pain, he was sure he deserved. I just think the more Mace learnt about Jango, after finding out he's just killed the man he thought had died thanks to his failure all those years before, going on to see the depths of what happened to Jango, what it made him, the more responsible he'd feel. If he'd only found him. What he went through on the ship. What the clones went through. All those years hating himself for surviving. Boba, who Jango wanted in spite of his self hated, who he loved so fiercely but could NOT do right by.

I think Mace would look at each part of it and a part of him would be like 'none of this had to happen. If you'd done your job, you could have saved him from that ship, from becoming this. You would have spared him from himself, but also the clones, Boba, everyone else he hurt.' I do think he would have known that this wasn't rational, and would have worked through it, been working through it, as he lived on and more and more things crept out of the woodwork to remind Mace of his one failure. Each revelation about jango is something else Mace might have prevented.

And then, Mace's death at palpatines hand. He speaks to the other ghosts and suddenly he sees. He sees the big picture. What Jango did to him, did to his people.

Mace has it completely right when he looks at this haunting as a circular thing. Who is haunting who? Time isn't linear for ghosts. He was haunting Jango from the start, but also, Mace didn't start haunting Jango till he'd already killed him. Mace not being able to forget that mission early in his career, the boy he hadn't been able to save. Was that bog standard guilt? His brain kicking up dust? Or was it the force warning him that Jango was out there, that he should look. Was it neither? As a force sensitive could Mace feel his future self, pulled back in time by his connection to Jango? Was the feeling of Jango haunting him, actually his own ghost, obsessed with the man he was tied to, the one responsible for his death.

He and Jango orbit each other before either of them are dead in a way the other ghosts don't. But it being uncertain who's haunting who? That's true of all the ghosts. Jango haunts them just as much they do him. They are ghosts because they can't let go of him and he can't let go of what he did to them.