#they’re gonna come back from the war

[skraeet]

i forgor to share this here

[doctorweebmd]

being a tomura fan is so rewarding. Every one of his designs is top tier. Thank you Horikoshi

[sacharinee]

hi m!!! what do you think about bf!pete getting his wisdom teeth out? and the reader taking care of him?? hed be so funny lmao xxD

-🧸

pairing: bf!peter parker x reader w/c: 750 a/n: hi anon!! thnk u for requesting i had sm fun writing this! :)

you’re sat at the dentist's office, cooped up in those uncomfortable chairs while you anxiously waited for your boyfriend’s surgery to finish.  

when peter ranted and moaned nonstop over his constant toothache, may decided enough was enough, and took it upon herself to set an appointment for her nephew. he wasn’t too keen on the idea. peter wasn’t afraid of anything ninety-nine percent of the time. dentists, however, wasn’t one of them. 

“can’t you stay here with me?” 

“stay? baby, no they’re gonna be drilling in your teeth.”

“but i-”

“and it’s gonna be bloody and nasty and i don’t wanna have to see all that.”

you turn towards him, only to come face to face with the boy’s horrified look, his eyes are wide and skin pale, mouth open in shock. you cringe at your response.

“but,” you stand, “you’re gonna do amazing, you’re gonna sit here and let the dentist do his magic.” you smile and lean down to plant a sweet kiss on his forehead.

“y/n/n, wait but-” you drop his hand on the way out, “bye, love you baby! be good!”

“y/n!”

two hours later swing by when a woman in navy scrubs comes to get you, announcing that peter is out of surgery. 

you knew that he would be high out of his mind on laughing gas, you just didn’t think it would be this bad. 

when you enter, the dentist is off to the side, looking over charts, packing a care bag for his patient.

peter’s head lulls towards your touch on his shoulder and slowly blinks at your presence. 

“hi baby, how you feeling?” you give him a beaming smile.

your boyfriend does his best to muster the same grin, but the amount of gauze in his mouth makes his rosy cheeks puff out, drool dripping down the corner of his mouth.

peter takes a moment to stare at you, “woaahh” he languidly slurs his words, “you’re so pretty.” 

you giggle at the comment when the boy gasps in horror, “wait, wait, i have a girlfriend, and she’s-” he looks up at you worriedly and slaps his forehead, “i’m in trouble.”

you can’t help but let out a laugh, he’s so dopey. 

your fingers touch the bottom of his chin gently and lift his head, “i’m your girlfriend, silly.” 

a loud gasp escapes peter as his face turns ecstatic, “get out!” you giggle at his reaction, the dentist glances over at you two and offers an admiring smile.

“so do we have sex?”

the awkward silence in the room kills you. 

your face blushes, as you shake your head and clear your throat, “peter, no.”

“no?!” he sighs in disappointment, “aw man.” your boyfriend pouts at the floor, “what have i been doing with my life.”

“oh my god, pete,” when the dentist turns away, you whisper and offer him a shrug, “sometimes we do.”

the delight on his face returns and his eyes go wide, “really?!”

the boy seriously has no filter.

as you’re packing his things, peter pauses and pokes his cheeks, “wait y/n,” he pauses, “my face kinda feels weird.”

you look around and hand him a mirror from the counter, “oh my god…” peter gingerly touches his face as you kneel down at him, “what’s wrong, baby?”

“my face… it’s so fat!” he’s got tears in his eyes and whining with a jutted bottom lip, “y/n,” sniffle. “will-” sniffle. “will you still love me if my face is so fat?” 

you roll your eyes and smile at his antics, “of course, i would.”

he seems pleased with your answer because he’s back to smiling. you go back to packing his things. “hey, mr dentist,” he woozily slurs, the gauze is practically spilling out his mouth, “d’you know i’m spider-man?”

you mentally facepalm at his obliviousness and mutter, “jesus christ.”

you turn to the older man who’s chuckling at his mental state and shrug, “he also thinks he’s luke skywalker from star wars.”

“but i am!-” “okay bug boy, lets go.”

“where we going?”

“home, sweetie.”

he gasps eagerly and raises his eyebrows at you, “to have sex?”

“oh my god.”

soon after the dentist explains and hands you everything he needs to recover, you guide peter to the car. 

he’s extremely dramatic. 

he’s got his hands around your shoulders, dragging himself on the floor, acting like he can’t walk - which he definitely can.

“peter, i know you can walk. c’mon help me out,” you beg.

“no, i can’t" he moans, "carry me,” he demands.

“what? no,”

“why not?”

“because you’re too heavy.”

and he’s crying all over again, “i knew it! you hate me 'cause you think my face is too fat!”

[oxydiane]

we talk a lot about how sasuke and naruto are so crazy about each other but there’s never enough attention on how the rest of the naruto cast Also thinks they are two fucking lunatics. like we are not alone on this. you have jiraiya telling naruto he needs to not go and chase a mf who tried to snatch his heart out his ribcage and naruto is like no i’d rather be a fucking moron for the rest of my life honestly. you have naruto leaving a mission and saying sory i cannot stay i need to go home and wait for sasuke and the fucking platypus looks at him ???? like he even had me confused where are you goin g to wait? ? why are you saying that like sasuke is coming back the fuck did i miss??? you have the kage summit arc which is just a whole bucket of ice being dropped onto you because you come in and immediately get slapped in the face by naruto letting himself be beat up because he won’t tell them where sasuke is??? like he has any fucking idea where sasuke is. and sai tries to make him come to his senses like naruto??? naruto WHAT ARE U DOING. it’s so bad they need an intervention. right after that naruto faces the raikage and gets on his knees saying i know my almost boyfriend almost killed your brother but i promise it wasn’t on purpose he was just being silly please don’t put a bounty on his head a war will literally ensue. and like. there’s LAYERS to this. 1. even RAIKAGE is like BOY what are you doing. STAND UP. 2. at this point you can count the people who like sasuke on the fingers of one hand like WHO is gonna start a war over him… naruto out there moving a war against a whole country by himself over his bf ok you go girl i guess. after this it gets even worse like gaara has to go up to him and be like SASUKE DOWSNT CARE ABOUT YOU. HE DOES NOT WANT YOU. and naruto just slaps his hand away in front of his family like rude?????? ignoring anything it is hilariouuusssss and then sai is like sorry. sakura lied to you they are actually off to kill sasuke and naruto gets a panic attack so severe he passes out. like i am not joking it was so bad his friends tried to kill sasuke behind his back. and then naruto escapes bedriddenment (is that a word?) after passing out from his panic attack to run and make sure NOBODY kills sasuke. like he’s on a RUSH leaping those trees he’s a boy on a mission. then after he gets there he’s like kakashi DO NOT TOUCH HIM. they launch themselves at each other bla bla gay monologues did you see what was in my heart and then. and then naruto is like. wait sasuke. and sasuke waits like sorry that’s such a little thing but it’s so funny to me like sasuke was just acting a lil murderous crazy manic wtv but naruto told him to wait and he waits. ok good boyfriend. anyways moving on naruto is like do you get it sasuke. if we fight again we will BOTH DIE! (everybody gets a ?????? bubble) i am the only one who can shoulder all that hatred. i will CARRY THE BURDEN OF YOUR HATRED AND WE WILL DIE TOGETHER! and . absolutely Everybody in that room just goes ???????????? what the FUCK is he TALKING ABKHT. everybody except sasuke. sasuke smirks and he’s like sure. they just talked about dying together and meeting each other in a different life where they’ll be free of their burdens and they’re just Fine and all ok smiling at each other and everyone is so fucking confused. like the entire supporting cast is with us side eyeing sasuke and naruto and thinking what in the everloving FUCK is WRONG WITH YOU????????

[starflirts]

I'VE BEEN TRYING TO TELL YOU (HOW YOU'RE THE ONE THAT I TURN TO)

in which you and percy must navigate the intricacy of love and glory in the midst of terror percy jackson x ares! reader, wc: 1.8k, warning: violence, description of wounds/blood, note: thank you so much for requesting!!! and yes, i picked the quest members randomly SUE ME

Percy was busy this summer. On top of his daily activities at camp, the Oracle had bestowed on him a particularly tedious quest which he eagerly accepted, not one to miss out on adventure. But the last few days have been tough for everyone. The quest Percy and his friends had taken on proved to be way more demanding than expected and monsters seemed to constantly appear out of nowhere. Looking over his shoulder to ensure everyone was okay, he noticed you trailing behind Annabeth and Thalia, backpack slung over your shoulder. Even with tired eyes and a couple of cuts on your face, you were the prettiest being he’d ever seen.

“I think we can stop here for the night,” his voice cuts into the silence of the early evening. “we’re not far off our destination and if Thalia's mapping is correct we might be a few days early. That’s great news !” 

The rest of the group nodded, each setting down their bags and stretching. “Thalia and I are gonna settle here, call us if you guys need anything.” Annabeth said, to which Percy acquiesced.

As soon as they moved off, Percy's gaze turned to you, sitting on a rock with your backpack on your knees, looking away.  

“Hey angel,” he approached you, one hand brushing your arm before settling himself by your side. “How are you holding up ?”

Looking at him for a brief second, you shrugged, opting to play with your dagger, a gift from your father, the infamous god of war. 

Taking your silence for an invitation to continue, Percy adds: “I can’t believe we made it this far so quickly you know ? Everything is going smoothly and if we get back to camp this early Chiron might see us fit for another outing !” 

His words feel like pit scorpion stingers and you close your eyes, huffing through your nose. That's when he notices how taut your shoulders are. He frowns, attempting to meet your eyes. “Hey, what’s wrong ?” he tentatively rubs your back. “Do you need anything ? I might have a few snacks Grover packed before we left..”

The mention of your friend back at camp half-blood makes your stomach clench. You miss Grover, you miss camp. Hades, Mr D’s stupid shirts are even starting to grow on you. This quest seemed to go on forever and you wished Percy wouldn’t be so stubborn about it. Putting your stuff away you sigh, looking up towards the stars slowly coming out of hiding. “I don’t need anything Percy.” you answer dryly. 

You can see him from the corner of your eye, looking at you skeptically. “Is this because we’re still on the road ? You know the worst is over, I think we’re in the clear about monsters and all… And then, if everything goes exactly as planned we’ll be back at camp in a couple of days.”

You press the heel of your hands against your eyes, as if his voice was enough to give you a headache. “I don’t care, Percy. I don’t wanna know about that stupid plan or those stupid monsters. The quest is the only thing that has been coming out of your mouth ever since Chiron told you to go talk to the Oracle. Even when we’re at camp you only seem to care about going away !” you finally snap, staring at him crossly. 

Percy’s confused, you can see it in the way his brows furrow. “Listen, it’s- it’s important, okay ? These quests, these prophecies, they’re vital if you want to prove yourself, to grow stronger ! How do you think we’d be doing in the real world without this ?”

You sigh, toying with your bracelet, a gift your boyfriend had given you last summer. “That’s not what I meant Percy ! You’re just so… You give your all to all of this and I understand, I admire you for that ! But it sucks to see you risk everything so often, to see you come back all hurt and bruised.” 

“Would you like it better if I stayed at camp and did nothing then ?” it’s his turn to get upset, arms crossed as he stares at you. 

“No ! Of course not ! I just wished you knew how to take care of yourself and others at the same time ! You’re all up in your head sometimes, barely acknowledging me, or anyone else for that matter !” you let out an annoyed laugh. 

“Oh so you’re mad because we can’t hang out like we used to ? Come on, you know how serious that is ! Of course I care about you but this is important too !”

You scoff, turning away from the boy. “Glory is important to you, I get it ! It’s what runs in your blood. But why can’t you see how it affects others, me ?”   

Percy runs a hand in his hair, obviously distressed. He calls out your name, a hint of dejection in his voice. “I think the journey has taken a toll on you. We should talk about it, about us ! You don’t mean that.” he reaches out but you step away. “Yeah, right. Is there even an us right now ? Maybe I’m just a hindrance. You’d definitely do greater things without me pestering you” you breathe out, angrily wiping your eyes. 

Your words slice his heart and you can see a twinge of sadness in his eyes. “Come on–”

He barely has time to finish this sentence when Annabeth yells from behind: “Watch out !” Briskly turning around, the boy is faced with two enormous hellhounds. Drawing out his beloved Riptide, Percy slashes the air, attempting to get the monsters to back off. When the two creatures jump forward instead, Percy’s mind goes blank. He can only think about everyone’s survival. In his line of vision, he can see Annabeth and Thalia actively defending themselves. But he can’t see nor hear you and that’s enough to make his heart beat ten times quicker. He can’t afford to diverge his attention right now but he knows you, he knows you can put up a fight. You’re not the pride of Ares’ cabin for nothing after all. 

One down, Percy thinks as his sword pierces through the monster’s fur. Brushing off the dust sticking to his face with bloodied knuckles, he turns around in horror as he hears a bloodcurdling scream. Your scream. His feet drive him to you as fast as they can, only to find you wrestling with the remaining hellhound on the ground, its fangs sinking into your flesh. 

Percy sees red. He lunges at the creature, weapon raised. Within a few minutes, what remains of the monster is the flickering black dust disappearing in the moonlight. Out of breath, Percy rushes to your side when he notices you’re not getting up. 

“Hey hey ! It’s over, you’re- you're okay.” His hands on your shoulders, “C’mon, we gotta get you up.” He tries to get you in a seating position but the whimper you let out makes his heart clench. You grab his shoulder with a shaky hand, throat prickling as you attempt to tell him something. 

“Hurts Percy…it hurts…” and that’s when he notices the gash on your lower stomach, shirt ripped to shreds and blood dripping down. A wave of nausea hits him but he holds on, applying pressure on your wound. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, we’re- we’re gonna get you back to camp, we’re gonna help you. Just… Just talk to me yn, don’t close your eyes.” Percy’s hands shake as he tries to keep you conscious while Thalia and Annabeth fumble around him with a makeshift stretcher. 

Even now, Percy is still amazed at how fast they all ran back to camp, guilt plaguing his mind as Chiron and a couple of dryads took your inert body and carried you to the infirmary. 

The next few days are awful. Percy’s at the edge of your bed night and day, feeding you nectar and ambrosia, dabbing the sweat off your forehead when you strike up a fever, helplessly watching a kid from the Apollo cabin change your bandages. When you finally come out, he’s sat at the edge of your bed, head in his hands. 

The sun peaking out from the closed curtains is still too bright when you open your eyes. You frown, slowly raising your arm to cover them. The rustling of sheets has Percy whipping his head in your direction and even in your daze, you can see his shoulders sag with relief.

“Hey…” he says softly. 

“Wha– what happened ?” you speak out, voice husky.  

He’s sitting next to you within seconds, hand gently holding yours. You can see he’s trying really hard to find the right words, to tell you exactly how his nightmare played out. “We…We were on the way back to camp after our quest. We were all exhausted and- and we fought… I’m so sorry yn,” he pauses, voice shaky. “We didn’t have time to talk things through… Two hellhounds appeared out of nowhere and by the time I turned to look for you I– I  saw you on the ground. You were fighting the monster but he got you really bad and when he was gone I wanted to see if you were okay and– and you weren’t.. There was so much blood and you were in so much pain and–”

You squeeze his hand twice, cutting him off. He looks at you and this time you can clearly see the tears forming at his lash line. 

“It’s okay Percy,” you smile weakly, thumb drawing circles on his skin. “We made it, you made it.”

He shakes his head, closing his eyes for a few seconds. “No, no it’s not. I was terrified when we brought you here. I was mad at myself for fighting with you and I was so, so scared to lose you. I kept repeating our last interaction in my head and thinking that those words might’ve been our last made me realize how stupid I am for not noticing how I hurt you. You’re right. I get too much in my head. And… I can’t do anything when I’m not with you. I know this might sound silly but I need you with me all the time.”

You let out a small chuckle. “It’s fine Percy. I am partially to blame too y’know… I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I– I didn’t mean what I said. Of course there’s still an us. I guess I got too much in my head too.” you smile at him sheepishly. “And I hope you know I wouldn’t deal so nicely with any of this demigod bullshit if you weren’t by my side all the time.” you add with a mischievous smirk and Percy’s heart swells. 

Resting his forehead against yours, his hands are on your face, thumbs stroking your cheekbones. “We’ll be alright angel. We’ll always be alright as long as we’re together.”

[stil-lindigo]

Hello, very confused and overwhelmed outsider here. Looking at posts here and on news sites I see such pradoxical views, one saying to not support Palestine is to support genocide and the other saying to not support Israel is to be antisemitic. I wonder, and I am going around asking people on different sides of the war, do you believe it is possible to support both the lives of Palestinian people and the lives of Jewish people?

Feel free to ignore this ask or to point out any ignorance on my part. I hope you have some peace in your day/night, I can only imagine how stressful it is to have so many people asking so many serious questions.

hi anon. I’m gonna try to make this is as concise as possible, since I’m technically writing this on my lunch break. Yes, it is possible and in fact very easy to support the lives of Palestinian and Jewish people because - and this is the important part - Israel and Zionism is not Judaism. Depending on who you may ask, Zionism began as a pure-hearted desire for Jewish people post-WW2 to create a place that would always unequivocally be safe for Jews, but as I am not Jewish myself I feel like any description I might give comes off as insincere and not fully grasping the scope of that mission. But no matter what Zionism once was, it is now the belief that Jewish people have the right to commit genocide against indigenous population so that they can establish their ethno-state. And you can split hairs all you like, but after the past four months, my belief in that has only solidified.

Perhaps the strongest opposition to Israel comes from Jewish people themselves, who’ve popularized “not in my name” as a protest chant. Holocaust survivors have come out in droves to protest the actions of Israel, and they’re often the strongest front of any protest action since - yes, you’re right - mainstream news is very committed to selling the idea that this “war” is Jews vs Muslims which is just inflammatory racist garbage. There’s more to it than I can easily get into right now, but just for a start, it completely erases the existence of Palestinian Jews or Palestinian Christians, and also ignores Israel’s historically abusive and degrading treatment of their own Holocaust survivors in their population.

This “war” is not a war. It’s a genocide, where the total amount of bombs dropped on Gaza is officially over twice the impact of a nuclear bomb. One side is asking for a stop the fighting, for aid to be allowed through, they are asking for clean water and food as their women have been forced to rip off scraps off tents to use as menstrual products. One side has had all 35 their hospitals bombed (a war-crime the first time, and it continues to be a war crime every time it still happens), over 100 of their journalists have been targeted and murdered (more journalists than were killed in all of WW2, and btw this is also a war crime). And the other side films TikTok’s levelling apartment buildings, looting houses, kicking Palestinian hostages, stripping them naked and urinating on them. Israel has rained white phosphorus down on Palestine, they have bombed Palestine indiscriminately, they have destroyed archives, historical locations, they have done their best to rob Palestinians of their dignity and empathy and still, they’re not done.

Oh and the excuse that they’re just doing all of this to save the hostages? Hamas offered them all back in exchange for a ceasefire. And the Israeli prime minister, Netanyahu, said no.

In the future, try to get your news from trusted news sources like Al Jazeera, and following journalists on the ground like Bisan and Motaz.

[yameoto]

Haiii can you pls write a fic abt being rude to jordan all day which causes them to take their anger out on the reader at the end of the day and they’re just being really aggressive and manhandling?

FRUSTRATION. JORDAN LI.

✗ warnings ; dom!jordan, sub!reader, rough sex, dry humping, orgasm denial, brat taming. not proof read. wc ; 1.2k

THE last straw is the coffee. the fucking coffee.

the sick thing is that this time, you didn't even mean it. sure, your relationship was on pause. sure, you two had been exchanging barbed quips and jibes back and forth for the worse part of two weeks.

(there wasn't even a point to it, anymore—devolving into the most inane, stupid game of chicken; who can piss the other off more? but jordan is nothing but competitive — and you'd be damned if you let them show you up.)

but this time? you swore you were minding your business. like actual, cross your heart, hope to die—stick a cupcake in your eye. unfortunately for you, grade-school promises don't exactly stick up too well when you're standing in the middle of your dorm room doorframe; foaming, hot latte sopping into your favourite jacket. and bag. oops.

"are you fucking serious?" jordan's scowl is black, arms immediately flying out to shake their sleeves, to no avail. your mouth is already open — granted, not to apologise, but it doesn't matter much anyways when all of a sudden two hands are on your torso and you're being thrust onto a bed. you’re not exactly proud of the startled yelp that peels out of you, but fuck— jordan looks.. really fucking hot.

"you get off from pissing me off, or something?" jordan grunts, eyes flaring. there are the faintest hints of bags under their eyes, and a note of tension in their voice you've never heard before. you've clearly caught them at a bad time—even in the depths of this cold war between the two of you, they've never seemed this pissed — just.. mildly irritated.

"only sometimes." you snip back, instead, squirming as their hands dig into your shoulder. it's the wrong answer.

"no." jordan hisses, hand moving up to grip your jaw with a harsh squeeze. "no, no, no. none of that." they lean in, and abruptly you feel your heart jump to your throat; tensing at the indecipherable leer to their tone.

"here's what's gonna happen, baby," the endearment comes out a derisive snarl as their hand swallows your thigh, hiking your leg up and yanking you into a straddle over their leg.

"you're gonna hump my fucking thigh," jordan growls, edging in close, breath hot against your neck as if they're about to rip your throat out. "and you're gonna scream my name like a fucking banshee, got it?" they murmur, and you inhale, jaw slack at the sheer level of cruelty in their voice, and the unmistakable spike of heat that throbs your core.

unimpressed by your silence, jordan's hand constricts around the base of your neck, squeezing. "i said, got it?" they hiss, patience running thin, and you grunt—nails digging into your palms to restrain a wince, or god forbid—a whimper. "got it." you huff, annoyance forcing its way in your inflection as if you're not about to melt into a puddle all over their thigh. god, you've been waiting for this, waiting for this for so fucking long—a week without their touch has felt like a month without fucking water. not that you'd ever admit that, out loud.

a low, unreadable hum resounds from the back of jordan's throat. "well fucking hump, then, sweetheart." they say, voice low as their teeth nips against your skin. you take the hint—forgoing your pride and slowly beginning to grind against their leg, ache between your legs growing increasingly needy as you feed into its begging, pulsing throbs, little whines beginning to fall out of your mouth.

"i said fucking scream it," they hiss, lips latching onto your neck and sucking as your body begins to tremble, feeble whine releasing from your mouth, despite yourself. "i want everyone on the floor to know it's my fucking thigh you're rutting up against like a needy slut." they say, gaze hardening as you thrust yourself against them with a breathy moan, their tone alone making you course with need. "jordan—jordan, oh, fuck—" you gasp, hand fisting into the hem of their shirt.

"louder." jordan demands, a whisper. their fingers curl against your skin, hips bucking subtly at every mention of their name. you make a little noise of protest, but jordan's eyes flash— and you find yourself keening for their approval as you thrash in their lap, body trembling all over. "jordan—" you moan, back arching all while you grind urgently into their thigh, mind blanking. "jordan, jordan, jordan jordan—" the words spill in a shaky, hoarse slew of whines that fit perfectly around your lips, like their name was made for you. your body moves as mindless as your mouth, functioning only on one, single, primal, instinctual need.

jordan jordan jordan need need thigh fuck jordan fuck me fucking fuck me, already—

"i've felt like shit all week." jordan hisses, interrupting your highly intellectual thought process—though, they don't exactly look too cut up as you continue to hump their leg, eyes glassy and teary with want. you want more. you need more. you need them inside of you—"but you're gonna make it up to me, aren't you, doll?" jordan purrs, voice a rushed mumble as their hands dig into your waist. they forcibly jerk you forwards, wrenching your legs further apart so you're splayed across their groin instead of their thigh. this time, you can't help the audible whimper that leaves your throat. "then maybe i'll forgive you."

as if on cue, your pace speeds up with an excitable whine, burying your face under their chin. "please—more—" you force out, grasp on their hem tightening as you groan, loudly, hips bucking wildly against them. "need you— in me—" the words stumble out, shamelessly, barely comprehensible. jordan grins, and with dismay you realise they're shaking their head.

"oh, c'mon. you don't deserve it." they snort, and you whine at the sheer unjustness of it all. you were only mean for them for what? a week? a whole week of them not touching you, either—fuck, you need it—their fingers, their cock—anything to fill up the burning, pounding emptiness inside you, begging to be stuffed full. you open your mouth to protest, but jordan beats you to it. "you're gonna come on my fucking thigh, or you're not gonna come at all. okay, sweetheart?"

any potential complaints die in your throat, petering out to a dismal, shaky whine of defeat. you're still grinding furiously against them. frustrated grunts leave your lips as you squeeze your eyes shut, mattress quaking in time with your thrusts. you have no drive to win against them, anymore. all you wanna do is fucking come.

jordan's grip on you eases, bit by bit as you make a show of yourself — pants and whines spilling from you as you bury yourself deep into jordan's chest and just rut, like the useless thing you are. it's sad, it's needy, it's desperate; and the thing is you fucking can't— it's not enough. you need jordan. you need them.

the whimper that drifts from you even smaller than the ones before, and in an instant, your pants die— and you crumple into a breathless heap upon their chest. it still aches, dull throb between your legs left to pulse and groan out in need. you feel gross, and sticky, and sleepy. this is what you get, really, for thinking you could fuck around with jordan and get away with it.

"are you still mad at me?" you mumble into the crook of jordan's neck, fabric of their shirt still bunched up in your fists. "..jords..?" you mutter, and jordan smiles at the way your words slur, thighs still shaking, their pretty baby taught a lesson. "oh, doll." they grin, hand sliding along chest— your hipbone— the band of your underwear.

well. maybe there's still hope for you, yet.

[dante-mightdie]

Just found you blog, and saw you mention "fosterowner!price and doghybrid!141+you" and a thought has never been better

Price with his mismatch pack of pups, always having to scruff the nearest one from niping or barking,

I know for a fact Soap and Ghost the asshole are always eating your food before you can get to it,

You're just so much smaller and their bigger you understand right? (No you don't, closer to hell with your hight, you've decked them right in the stomach for it)

Poor price he trys his hardest to keep the peace, and only when y'all are working on a mission is when y'all finally shut up about who price scratched behind the ears more,

Speaking of which, I don't make the rules but Johnny's leg twitches in tandem with his tail the second price goes in for a rub behind those soft ears :))

Gaz (he's a Doberman right?) Being the nicest of the pack, great for bodyguarding any clients on a mission and they just love him so much, cut to Soap mimicking him to try and get the same praise,

Ghost is your biggest rival in the pack, he's just that much bigger than you that no matter what you do it's like a Pomeranian yapping in his ear,

Price always scruffing you after you get a little to worked up at Ghosts indifference to your gnawing, (Simon knows no reaction works you up more that one, he does it on purpose, bastard)

-

P.s. bluecollar!Simon is giving me the biggest brain-rot right now

-Love Sins (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

laswell said you guys were temporary. that john was only watching over you all until she found you permanent placements

but john is so attached to you all now. and you guys don’t even realise that you’re a bonded pack now

all of you having a pretty rough past :(

gaz is the most perfect boy. so well behaved always, even the enemies have to stop themselves from giving this little cutie some ear scritches <3 can be found in johns office, napping under his desk on his feet or knelt between johns legs getting pets

but john found out that he was a stray on leave, no home or owners to go back to after deployment. found gaz shivering on the streets of london and immediately snatched him up

simon was rescued from a dog-fighting ring. price was on a mission involving hybrid trafficking and stumbled across this big lad. simon was absolutely feral, snapping sharp teeth at anyone who tried to come near him

price had no choice but to muzzle him and manhandle him :( price overheard that he was gonna get put down because he wasn’t letting anyone get close to him

simon was actually given permanent placements but was always sent back to price because he was too aggressive with anyone else that wasn’t him

soap my love :( poor thing was found in the base kennels by nikolai. cramped in a metal crate with a sad look on his face. kept getting sent back from his permanent placements for being to energetic, too rowdy

price immediately came to collect him and he’s been with him since. has to be taken on walks and played with regularly otherwise he’ll cause mayhem. price left him in his office for a few hours and came back to his couch pillows all ripped up :(

has one of those big ropes to play tug of war with

price carries treats in his pocket for all of you, sneaking them to you during long car rides

you’re the runt of the pack. this doesn’t mean they don’t love you and price does not reject you but you’re not as strong as the rest of the pack

deep down they’re actually very protective of you

this doesn’t stop them from being absolute bastards to you though

taking your toys, eating your food, roughhousing and play fighting with you. simon absolutely loves putting his scent all over your toys and bed because he knows how much it annoys you

cuddle piles are a thing after missions just saying. all of you crowded onto one bed, sprawled all over each other. gaz and soap drool on simon as you lay across his legs

john taking pictures and keeping them in a hidden folder on his phone

you know that thing that dads do where they just smack the side of the dog repeatedly to pet them? john does that to simon specifically

if it was anyone else, simon would rip their throat out with his teeth but john doing it keeps him grounded. no one says anything when they see his tail wagging lazily <3

[cerise-on-top]

Poly!141 x Reader

Imagining being in a happy and healthy relationship with these four has worked wonders for my mental health, it's unbelievable. So naturally, I was gonna write something about this. And I will write about this again because they bring me so much joy and I adore these lads.

Once the fighting is done and they can finally relax with each other and you, no matter how brief the respite may be, you can be absolutely certain you’ll be caught between Johnny and Kyle. John is usually too busy to come cuddle immediately and Simon needs to be coaxed into the pile. It doesn’t take a lot of coercion, though. If he’s tired enough you can simply beckon him closer and he’ll wrap himself around whoever’s nearest.

John needs to be dragged away from work, though, which is a lot harder to accomplish. Fortunately, Simon is strong enough to simply pick him up and carry him to the couch. John proceeds to tell all of you that he’ll indulge you for five minutes only, but that has been a lie every single time since he has a tendency to fall asleep when surrounded by the warmth of his beloveds.

It’s fairly domestic with the four of them, actually. Sure, they can be rowdy boys who do like to fight and spar with each other, especially Kyle, Johnny and sometimes Simon, but whoever so graciously cooks that day will receive a kiss on their temple as well as Simon’s assistance. He has a sixth sense for when someone in the household needs something and helps them out however he can. He’s not such a bad cook either, he knows quite a few recipes since he’d been alone for a long time.

Kyle spent a lot of time outside the UK, so he knows quite a bit on how to prepare exotic foods from where he had been. John, too, can cook quite well, even better than Simon. Johnny, however, never really had too much time to learn and it never interested him that much either, but the few recipes he does know he can do really well. If you’re ever in the mood for baking you should call Simon, he actually has taken a liking to it.

As mentioned before, there will be some play-fighting here and there. Most of the time nothing severe happens, but sometimes someone’s ankle gets twisted or a shoulder needs to be put back in place. No one really gets mad, it just happens, but sometimes you have to chime in and tell them to stop before someone gets hurt even worse. Sometimes they listen, sometimes they keep going in secret. They have a surprising amount of energy that needs to be let out.

If they decide to take the sneaky route that day, call John. They do respect and love you, but there’s a good chance John will be more stern with them than you will. If one of you is hurt, then the others will do what they can to keep you happy. If it’s you and you’re a civilian, you can be certain they’re taking turns staying with you and checking in on you to make sure you’re okay. That’s one of the perks of dating several people: If one of you is sick or injured then someone else will always be at home to take care of you.

Game nights happen occasionally. Simon prefers card games since he’s hard to read and they don’t always rely on luck, Johnny likes board games simply because he wants to get on Simon’s nerves from time to time. It never works, but he doesn’t mind that either. Kyle is neutral about it, but will jab at whoever is losing. In the same sentence, though, he sometimes also makes fun of whoever is winning from time to time, especially if they’ve won a few rounds that night already.

John is flexible when it comes to games, he’s just happy to be there with you. Yes, you’re bickering because you’re certain Simon cheated at UNO, but there’s something pleasant about that chaos. It’s not a war he’s fighting, it’s home. It’s his partners getting riled up about something small, such as the dice getting stuck on the table’s leg and showing two numbers at once. It reminds him that that’s what he’s fighting for.

Kyle and Johnny have a tendency to be little shits from time to time. They’re not on base, they don’t need to show proper etiquette all the time and can just let go. Sometimes they’re playing hide-and-seek with one of them lying in wait for someone unassuming to walk by and scare them, other times they drag whoever is nearby along with them for a stroll to the nearest cafe or bar for a drink or two. If that person is willing, great! If they’re not they’ll simply pick them up and force them outside.

Going drinking with the two of them is fun, though. Johnny can hold his liquor really well, Kyle has learned how to do that as well. If you’re a lightweight then you’re gonna get teased to hell and back about it. It’s not impossible to get them drunk, but Johnny’s gonna take it as a challenge to outdrink you. Once either of you is wasted, you call either John or Simon to pick you up. While they may pretend to be annoyed or disappointed in you, they do think conversing with your drunk selves is fun. Kyle gets a bit less cheeky and more affectionate and Johnny gets even more bold and handsy, but nothing more than that happens. If your drunk self is also more on the affectionate side then you’re gonna get cuddled and kissed like there’s no tomorrow.

If the five of you are proud owners of a house then you’ll find Simon getting into gardening at some point. He bought a house plant at one point because he heard taking care of one is good for your health, and so it started out with a small aloe vera branch he was able to get from an acquaintance. Watching the little plant grow brought him immense joy, so he opted for another one. A few seasons later he started his own mini garden in his backyard, planting watermelons, paprikas, tomatoes, anything that would grow. He trims the apple tree, he harvests the fruit and asks you to bake an apple pie with him.

John gets wind of that and is very proud of Simon for having such a relaxing hobby, helping out whenever he can. If Simon ever gets sick then either you or John are the ones to take care of the plants. Kyle can keep a cactus alive for some time if he tries real hard, Johnny has drowned two cacti already. Simon revoked his plant rights for that one. The plants have names, but only Simon knows them and he won’t tell anyone. The very first few he ever got are named after you, John, Kyle and Johnny.

Even off-duty, John can be rather strict at times. He means well, though. His soldiers are disciplined, most of the time, at least, but sometimes they can act a bit inappropriately, be a bit too energetic when he wants to take a nap. So, sometimes punishment is in order. It’s nothing bad, though. Someone is put on dishwashing duty, maybe having to clean out the basement in general. Small tasks that need doing anyway. He can be a bit more rough if he wants to, but that’s usually mellowed out a bit by him using a soft and kind voice.

It’s rare for either of you to stand up against him because he’s pretty much always in the right, but if you do he’s willing to hear you out. He still has an air of authority around him from time to time, so if some of you are able to change his mind he won’t hold it against you. John is well aware that miscommunication causes a lot of problems, so he will always hear you out, no matter what it is. This goes for other things as well. Had a rough day? Wanna tell someone about the cute stray you saw? He’s the last person to shoo you. In fact, it makes him happy when you tell him those things, it shows him that he’s trustworthy in your eyes and such a thing is worth more than the world’s gold reserves to him.

Johnny adores having an exercise partner, it doesn't matter whether you’re jogging in the morning or straight up lifting weights at the gym. If he can, he'll always drag one of you along, there’s no specific schedule to which one it is either. Normally he asks Kyle since he also goes to the gym from time to time and, being as competitive as they are, they motivate each other quite well to try and raise their limits. If you don’t exercise, for whatever reason, Johnny will try to get you to start doing it. You don’t have to run five kilometers straight, you don’t have to cycle for an hour, but even the smallest of steps would make him incredibly happy. You’re trying, that’s all that matters.

He’s very supportive as well but won’t go overboard. As soon as you get dizzy or your arms or legs get wobbly you will take a break. But no matter what, he’ll always reward you for doing so well. You’ll get a kiss, a hug, a piece of fruit, whatever small thing you want. Always reassures you that you’re not dragging him down either. Yes, he could most definitely run a marathon if he wanted to, but you can’t and that’s okay. Baby steps, you’ll get there eventually. Has a schedule for which exercises he does when. Even if he simply gets to stretch with you in the morning he’s more than happy to take that chance. Might make an inappropriate comment or two during yoga the first few times, though. But you’re dating, so he doesn’t mean anything bad by it. Tell him to tone it down and he will.

Kyle is the type of guy, who, in order to unwind, plays extremely stressful games. Bloodborne, Elden Ring, Sekiro. And yes, he does start swearing up a storm when he’s frustrated enough. Will refuse any and all affection until he’s beaten the boss as well. You can get him to play more relaxing games with you as well, though. Give him a Pokemon game and you’ll find him having caught each and every single one of them at some point. Because he’s a smart cookie he can probably recite some of the Pokedex entries as well. But his favorite games are still the darker games.

Won’t shy away from something along the lines of Team Fortress 2 or Portal either. In fact, he’s probably the one to make the suggestion of playing those games together. Sometimes Simon and you watch him play, with Simon giving him pointers if he’s having a hard time. Naturally, Kyle snaps back from time to time and dares Simon to beat the boss since he’s so smart. Despite being no gamer whatsoever, after a few tries, usually three to four so he can learn the game mechanics and the controls, Simon is able to beat almost any boss, as long as it’s not a rhythm game. Kyle is stumped every time, but you don’t dare to make a sound in case he makes you play next. Is grateful anyway, but a bit embarrassed because what was the last game Simon even played properly? Super Mario World? That was more than 20 years ago.

[vivelarevolution13]

tbh I still think Brock Rumlow was an interesting character and upon further examination way more unsettling a villain than most to me because like. Let’s be real, the second you lay eyes on Robert Redford as Pierce monologuing in his pristine suit and glass office high up in the sky he just screams Evil Politician! at you. You can see it coming a mile away. Meanwhile Rumlow is….Just Some Guy. On the surface, he’s just some side dude. He’s not enhanced, he’s not in some major position of power, he’s just someone who’s really good at what he does and seems dedicated enough to the work and functions well with his team. He respects Steve, might admire him even, but not so much that he gets starry eyed like everybody else. He’s lighthearted but focused, he’s no nonsense, he’s the everyman Steve can relate to way more than spooks like Natasha or Fury.

And okay, maybe what Rumlow does for a living is beat intimidate and kill people, but it’s not like that’s the primary objective, right, because SHIELD are the good guys and this is what Steve does now, too, anyway; except that Steve doesn’t really use any weapons other than the shield, he holds back, he doesn’t carry a gun anymore which is usually fine since he’s dangerous enough without it. But when that leaves him vulnerable, he’s covered: Rumlow’s got his six, and he does it well, and he earns some of his trust. This is familiar to Steve.

And maybe Rumlow’s a little too good, fine, maybe he shoots a guy in the head within the first fifteen minutes of the movie when he doesn’t necessarily have to and then cracks jokes immediately after but that’s alright too, because that guy had Steve at gunpoint and that guy was Bad whereas Rumlow is One of the Good Guys just doing his job, right. Rumlow’s joking around because he’s used to the violence, they’re all used to it, and this is just how it works. They’re just soldiers doing the grunt work and following orders, and this is familiar, too.

Except that they’re not soldiers and this isn’t a war, except that the work is for an intelligence agency whose job it is to hoard and steal information and monitor civilians and orchestrate and sabotage and meddle in internal and external state affairs. Except that the Good Guys, in reality, are extremely grey at best. Except that many of the Good Guys turn out to be Nazis on top of everything else, and it’s not that far of a stretch.

But when it’s all starting to unravel, you’re still thinking well maybe some of these guys didn’t know. Maybe they didn’t do it out of individual belief, and if faced with the right choice, they can be redeemed.

That is until you realize that Rumlow maybe didn’t respect Steve and what he did so much as what Steve could do if only Steve weren’t “weak” in other ways, if Steve had chosen the right side. That it not being personal is less a cop out and more a taunt the same way just following orders has always been, for Rumlow and many many men that came before him and will continue to come after. Until the vault when, by the most charitable of interpretations, Rumlow looks at the Winter Soldier letting himself be smacked around and crying and getting shocked like he’s maybe a little unnerved (if not just downright fascinated) by the whole thing, but not enough that it really changes anything for him, because the end justifies the means and it’s not really his problem, anyway.

Until Sam shows up and Rumlow looks at him like a bird of prey and says This is gonna hurt with a fucking smile on his face, and then you think: shit, man, obviously. How was it not clear from the start.

To me, what makes someone like Rumlow a good villain, even a side one, is not that he’s straight up Insane & Evil™️ or suffering from Tragic Backstory Syndrome or all hopped up on magic superstrength juice or whatever, but precisely the fact that he’s Just Some Guy with a cockroach survival mentality who operates well within the established system and just so happens to be really good at his job - a job that he might’ve even joined thinking it was for a good cause, or because he had something to prove, or simply because it gave him one hell of an excuse to be a bully. Because he either wholeheartedly believes in HYDRA or he just doesn’t give much of a shit either way so long as he gets his due in the end, and both are just as bad.

Because when you strip away all the grand scale superhero theatrics, you’ve seen this before. You’ve seen Rumlows in your school and in your neighborhood and in the military and the cop car patrolling your street. They’re the ones who sometimes say or do somewhat offputting shit but you figure it’s fine because they’re otherwise real nice or charismatic or normal looking, or maybe they work a job that’s framed as helpful or protective or inherently good despite the power dynamics at play, or they share your background and interests and you chat about the weather being crap this time of year.

And every time one of them turns out to be a violent, hateful piece of shit, you’re still somehow surprised then, too, when you really shouldn’t be.

[shadowdaddies]

I’m so sorry but these are not gonna stop anytime soon 😭😭 I have so many ideas for stories and I love seeing how they turn out and you’re the only writer I trust to do it. Feel free at any point to cut me off! Could I get one where the reader and az are in battle and one of them jumps in front of the other to save them and end up getting very seriously injured but they survive. And when they wake up the other can’t belive it and is still upset so they kiss all over them to prove that they are okay. Can I also get a little bit of worrying from cassian and Rhys in there too! Maybe if the reader is the one to get hurt they are worried about her and if it’s az then they’re the ones to comfort her. Thank you!!

lol keep em coming, love! I'm always happy for the requests💜

The Greatest Casualty

Azriel x Reader

Warnings: depictions of battle, blood, injury and death

A storm personified, you surged through the battlefield, cutting down enemy after enemy in a blur of clashing swords and blood. Azriel fought alongside you, the two of you working in tandem as you fought in a darkly beautiful dance together. 

As you moved forward, you caught the archer’s bow directed at you, cutting her arrow down effortlessly with your blade. What you didn’t notice in time was the archer lined next to her, firing their arrow quickly after, aimed straight for your mate. You didn’t have time to calculate the swing of your sword to deflect another arrow in time, adrenaline taking over your thoughts as you pushed Azriel out of the way, diving in front of the arrow yourself. 

As your flesh began to burn, excruciating pain spreading through your veins as the world blurred, you realized the arrow was poisoned. Azriel’s raging scream was the last thing you heard before your vision faded to black. 

Fading in and out of consciousness, you were unaware of how much time was passing as your body warred with itself to stay in this world. There were occasional muffled voices, some you recognized and some you did not. You once thought you could hear Azriel crying as a voice that sounded like Cassian’s comforted him, but when you tried to send reassurance to him through the bond, the connection was weak. All that you could feel from his end was a maelstrom of emotions, swirling torment and agony. Your heart broke for him before drifting back out of consciousness. 

Another time, you could hear Rhys and Feyre, more clearly than you had heard other voices before. They were speaking in hushed tones, but the words you heard were enough to build a fire within you. As your High Lord and High Lady discussed what would happen to your mate should you never wake up, you felt a fire in your veins. You crawled out of that dark place in your mind where you had been resting, clawing your way towards the light in front of you, that golden mating bond tethering you to this life. 

You grabbed that thread and tugged it with all your strength as a blinding light overwhelmed your senses. Your eyes shot open as you gasped for air, the blinding light you saw proving to be daylight shining through the window of your room. Rhys and Feyre turned from their conversation, shock and awe in their expressions before Feyre burst into tears, running to you from across the room. She brought you in for a gentle hug, the ache of your joints eliciting a wince from you regardless. She turned and directed Rhys to get Azriel and a healer, refusing to leave you now that you had awoken.

You nearly sobbed as you heard Azriel’s voice coming closer as he argued with Rhys that they shouldn’t have made him go downstairs to eat, because he missed his mate waking up. The door burst open, Feyre stepping aside to let Azriel settle next to you on the bed. You tried to speak, but the words came out raspy as if your voice hadn’t been used in too long. Feyre and Rhys left you alone with Azriel, heading downstairs to greet the healer whenever they arrived. 

Az studied your face, pressing kisses to every part of you that he could reach. He brushed your hair from your eyes, aiding you as you sat up against the pillows. He helped you drink some water, making it possible for you to speak well enough to ask, “how long was I out for?” Azriel’s face crumpled, sighing as he clutched your hand as though if he let go, you might disappear. “Ten days.” Your lower lip wobbled as you attempted to hold back the tears, Azriel gently shushing you as he held you close to his chest. “You dove in front of an ash arrow with a poisoned tip.” You heard his voice break as he whispered, “We didn’t know how you could survive.”

Azriel pulled back to look in your eyes, a scarred hand stroking your cheek. “Why would you do that, love? I waited for you for nearly six hundred years. I didn’t know - I don’t know what I would do if I lost you.” You took Azriel’s hand in your own, pressing a kiss to his palm. “The arrow would have hit you. I can’t lose you either, Azriel. I would take an arrow for you again without thought. You are my mate, and I would give my life gladly knowing that I will find you in the next.”

Azriel laid down next to you, the two of you enjoying each others’ presence as you began to drift off to sleep. You were startled from your peaceful state as the door was bust open once more, Cassian running in to bring you into a bear hug, your stiff joints protesting as you winced at the overwhelming affection. Azriel pushed him off of you, snarling, “you’re hurting her, Cass.” Cassian pulled away apologetically. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I’m just happy to see you. The healers are here, by the way.” 

Madja entered with another healer who apparently specialized in poisons, the two of them examining your injuries as Azriel kept a protective arm around you the entire time. They left, clearing you for light activity until your next check-up, and Azriel carried you down to have dinner with your family, the both of you overflowing with love and appreciation for each other and the others in your lives.

[artist-issues]

also, about Anakin—I distinctly remember realizing when I was first watching Star Wars that part of what makes Anakin’s relationship with Obi-Wan so compelling is that his love for Obi-Wan is as much forbidden as his love for Padme.

I mean, here’s this kid who’s too old to be trained as a Jedi, not because he’ll be prideful or have to catch up or anything, but because he’s old enough to have already learned how to get attached. And the Council was right; he never, ever unlearns that.

But the very first person aside from Padme that Padawan Anakin got attached to was Obi-Wan. And so all through his training, as he’s growing up and Obi-Wan is growing up too, Anakin is thinking “this is my guy. This is my older brother, this is my best friend, this is the only father I’ve ever known” and just recently discovered that someone like that (Qui-Gonn) can be killed and ripped away from you.

All through his training, that fierce attachment is growing, even more steadily than his love for Padme because he’s never separate from Obi-Wan…and the difference is, Obi-Wan shuts it down. It’s obvious that they love one another like brothers, but Obi-Wan never says it until Anakin is lying like chopped-up charred hibachi on the banks of Mustafar.

I mean, imagine having a father or older brother who you know loves you, but who refuses to say so? Except through his actions, almost in spite of himself?

And then imagine yourself as someone who never gets on board and believes in the code that says you can’t attach? So you know that your father-brother-figure is a hypocrite, about, like, the thing you think is the most important and also the stupidest part of the code?

Because he can’t say it! Because he’s supposed to be teaching Anakin not to get attached—what’s he gonna do, tell Anakin “I’m so glad you’re safe” every time they escape an adventure? Tell Anakin he doesn’t know what he’d do if he lost him? Remind Anakin that he cares? And then say “but attachment is bad. Trust the Force.” No, he’s not going to do that. He’s going to keep that aloof-thing going, even though Anakin knows Obi-Wan loves him.

So Anakin, a very dramatic young man who likes his declarations of affection super up-front, never gets that from Obi-Wan. And he’s so sensitive in the Force, and they’re so connected for such a long time—he must be feeling, constantly, that Obi-Wan loves him too. But Obi-Wan never says it. And even though Anakin knows why, it’s a constant source of frustration, because Anakin doesn’t actually respect the code and he doesn’t see why Obi-Wan does.

So constantly, Anakin feels like Obi-Wan is hiding affection for him, or withholding it. Keeping something good for him back. He’s feeling like Obi-Wan is, on some level, a little two-faced. He’s feeling like Obi-Wan’s willing enough to save his life and stick up for him—clearly Obi-Wan is attached—but coming out and saying it? Admitting it: “hey little bro, I know you’re attached to me but you have to stop; it’s not the Jedi way. I know how you feel, I’m attached to you too—we’ll just have to figure that out together?”

No, he never does that. Not until it’s way too late, and Anakin has already conflated Obi-Wan’s refusal to express their bond out loud with how deceitful and two-faced the Jedi are, and they have to be enemies.

which, you know, understandable, considering who Obi-Wan is as a character. but still.

Yeesh. I love this character, I feel like he was when I first started thinking about the tangled web of character motivations and conflicts, but the poor guy.

[mochatsin]

WHEN MC COMES HOME INJURED

There are a lot of issues that you can come across as a human in Devildom and sometimes, the brothers aren’t really prepared for the worst case scenarios. One day they find you at home injured from other demons, how will they respond to this?

TW: Implied Bullying, Violence, Torture, Injury

sometimes I wonder if MC is a bit desensitized to violence (but not to a level where they’re no longer bothered by it). Think about it, the brothers have war-level fights all the time in the house. Plus MC lives in a realm full of devils.

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

Lucifer  

His patience has never been so tested, all he can think about right now is going straight home. He heard that there was a  commotion that happened in one of your classes, so everyone was excused to leave early.

He never heard any of the details, and he would’ve asked the teachers or anyone in your class but it was better to hear from you instead. The wellbeing of the exchange student is his responsibility after all.

Lucifer was about to knock on your door but he heard a sniffle coming from your room which made him start panicking. “MC? Pardon me, but I’m coming over.” 

He found you by the bed, clutching your arm that’s poorly bandaged. Seeing the tears in your eyes broke his heart as he ran to your side. 

You told him that things got bad during your potions class. You don’t know how it went wrong when you followed the instructions correctly, but the cauldron exploded and gave you a bad burn. The teacher even scolded you in front of the class despite being in pain, making you an example of a foolish student before dismissing everyone.

Lucifer knows you’re not one to make clumsy mistakes like this, yet he keeps quiet to himself about that. His focus for now is to treat your wounds properly. But boy, he could feel his blood boil through his veins. How dare they make a fool out of you?! 

He promised to find something human-friendly for your skin as he applied a spell to numb the pain before going back to RAD. 

On his way, he overheard two students snickering to each other. Lucifer recognized them from your class. 

“Who knew adding fire newt tongues would’ve made it that explosive?” “You should’ve seen the look on their face when the teacher got mad. I knew the teacher hated them but it was hilarious when they looked like they were gonna cry!”

Lucifer had this sinister smile on his face as he walked up to the students. “Meet me in my office. We need to have a little talk.” 

It takes him an hour before he can come back to you with a healing salve. Gently applying it to your skin, you were astonished at how it was instantly restored!

Before you can comment about your amazement, Lucifer brings you in for a tight hug. “I’m so sorry… I’ll make sure you won’t get hurt like this again. I promise.” He tries to act calm but with how his hands held you so firmly, you can feel that he really was worried.

You could say that Lucifer keeps to his word when you find the demons, even your teacher, hung up by their legs in the potions classroom. They were beaten beyond recognition, you can’t even tell if they were still alive because the brothers lured you away from the scene before you could inspect them further. 

The whole school got the message, to never mess with the Morningstar’s human. The punishments are beyond what they could imagine, it’s not worth the few moments of satisfaction from making you cry.

Those people were dragged away by Barbatos to the castle’s dungeon, never to be seen again. Diavolo had to make arrangements for a replacement, and Lucifer ensured that you have at least one brother for every class to watch over you. 

He was strict and a bit more overprotective to you than usual, so it took a lot of time for you to reassure him that you’ll be fine.

Mammon 

To lesser demons, it’s a wonder how his denial with his problematic gambling and theft still made him think that he’s amazing and great. 

The stacks of reports about Mammon in the student council room can break records. He would ask Grimm that he would refuse to pay back, steal things he considers valuable, and his money-making schemes have caused lots of problems for other students. 

Despite the punishments from Lucifer, some demons think that it’s not enough. They want to hit him where it hurts. 

Mammon has been waiting for you, spamming your D.D.D. with several messages. You both planned to spend the night watching a movie together once you get home, but you’ve been running late and he’s getting impatient. 

When he hears the main door open, he rushes with the intention of complaining about what took you so long, until he finds you limping your way inside. 

“HEY MC I– huh… MC? What’s up with you? HEY!” As soon as he realizes that there’s more injuries on you, he instantly carries you to the bathroom and treats your wounds as best as he can.

He doesn’t speak, but he can’t hide the trembling of his fingers when he applies gauze pads and disinfectants on your wounds. 

You tried to explain what happened to him to the best of your abilities. You were cornered by some demons you didn’t even know on your way back home and they picked a fight. When you described what they looked like, Mammon instantly knew who they were.

“How about you rest first in the room while I go handle something yeah? Maybe report this to Lucifer” He lied of course. As if he’s going to waste a single second not hunting down these bastards. He lets one of his brothers tend to your wounds, he has other matters to attend to.

Mammon would send those demons a message, saying that he’s ready to repay them if they meet up. He was ready to give them back 10 times the pain they gave you. Break their legs for making you limp, even. 

You wake up in your bed to find him asleep next to you, holding your body close. The small tear stains on his cheeks made you pout and… well, you don’t tell him about the red stains left on his hands.

He walks you back to your classroom only for you to find it trashed. Broken chairs and desks, holes in the black board and the walls, and the demons from yesterday looking so bruised and wounded that they could barely shrink back in fear when they saw you and Mammon together. 

Lucifer would’ve punished Mammon for wrecking school property until you explained to him what happened. Given the nature of these circumstances, he didn’t tie up his brother from the roof like usual, but made him clean up the classroom he trashed.

Even with his goofiness around you, that incident was a reminder for the school that he’s still the second most powerful brother and the wisest thing is to never touch Greed’s treasure. 

Levi

Levi noticed that you haven’t been yourself lately when you come home. You’re always too tired to watch his shows and when you do, he finds one thing odd. 

When the anime he was watching showed a scene about bullying, you would flinch or turn away. You were never like this before and now Levi is suspicious. What has been happening in RAD when he’s not there?

Lucifer called him in to catch up on his classes since he’s been slacking off due to his games. He stayed a bit behind and when he finally finished, all he could think of was finally getting his hands back to his controller but then he stopped when he saw you in one of the empty classrooms. 

You were being cornered by a large demon, probably the size of Beel, who taunted you. About how you’re nothing but a weakling without the brothers, and calling them here would just prove his point. 

He was raising his fists to land another blow so you used your arms to protect yourself, but it never came. Instead, you find Levi kneeling down next to you with a sad look on his face.

He was in his full demon form, his tail holding onto the demon’s fist and won’t let go. “MC… why didn’t you tell me? Or at least any of us?” He seemed hurt because he didn’t know you’ve been in so much pain, especially when he saw the bruises on your skin as he tugged your sleeves down. 

He wrapped his jacket around you and wiped away your tears, trying to calm you down. Though it’s hard when Levi’s tail now has a death grip on the wrist of the demon who’s now screaming in pain and begging to be let go. 

“Shut up!” He hissed, his fangs bared out when he turned to the larger demon. 

Levi snaps his fingers and the demon disappears. The demon finds himself in the depths of the deep sea, struggling to breathe and swim up. He was spared from the agonizing suffocation by the sharp teeth of Lotan who swallowed him. 

He shifts back to his regular form and waits until you’re okay to be held. He tries to be gentle with you given the amount of bruises you’ve gotten. Since he’s not good at magic, maybe one of the angels can do something about this.

He doesn’t leave your side while Simeon tends to your bruises, all while he calls Lucifer to inform him of what happened.

“You’re my player two, we’re supposed to help each other out you know? That’s how the game works. S-so rely on me more MC!” 

He didn’t want to let you watch some anime that has bullying in the story, out of fear that it might remind you of what happened. The last thing he wants is to accidentally make you upset. 

Levi started attending school more, waiting for you outside your classroom every dismissal. You’d spot him gaming on his phone and if you’d ask why won’t he go straight back to the house, he’d just stutter way beyond comprehension. 

His cute flustered look as he struggles with the slightest physical contact, no one would guess that he’s the reason for the disappearance of the biggest bully in your class. It’s all game over when you mess with the Grand Admiral after all.

Satan 

Despite being just a new exchange student in a realm with little to no knowledge, you still somehow make it through the academic year and even get better marks than half of the demon brothers who lived for centuries. 

Some demons in class find it infuriating to see a lowly human do better. ‘Maybe they’ve just cheated.’ ‘Perhaps they use spells to see the answers’ ‘the wizard knows some sorcery, maybe this one does too’ ‘how wicked.’

Those were rumors you hear when you enter a classroom before a lecture. You try to not let it bother you because they’re not true. It’s from the combined effort of your hard work and the brother’s teaching you from scratch. 

Satan has been waiting for you in the house since you told him that your lesson from today was a bit difficult to understand, so you both set up a small study session for when you get home. But it’s been about an hour ever since your last message. 

No amount of reading has calmed his nerves since you’re not one to be late for no reason. It’s been raining really hard so he thought that maybe you’re stuck in this weather, but the lack of messages is still concerning. 

When he heard the door open, he closed his book with the intent of questioning why you were late, but he saw how soaked you were from head to toe. 

He grabs your arm to help clean you up, but you hissed and yanked it away. He looked at you confusingly before he noticed the puddle of rain water was mixed with something… red. 

Without haste, he sits you down in the living room and rushes to get the first aid kit. He’s thankful for learning about first aid, but never did he think that he would have to use it on you like this. 

He focused first on calming you down, placing soft kisses on your head every time you’d whimper. It worried him a lot, but he didn’t want to ask you about your tears until he’s sure you’re okay. 

It took half an hour, and a whole lot of pain relievers until you’re okay. Satan went to grab your things left at the door, only to see a lot of your books and homework torn to bits. Connecting two and two together, he knew what happened. 

When you slept, there was only one thing racing in his thoughts. To hunt. He’s heard of the rumors about you, and he’s had enough of staying passive about it. 

He practically interrogates every student he comes across until he gets his answers. When he finally has a name, he would turn each stone in the realm until he finds them. 

The moment he does, the demons are facing the most agonizing cat and mouse chase of their lives. Satan would follow suit behind their tails, and each time they ran across him they would shed more blood and tears. 

He would’ve killed them on the spot with one snap of a finger, but that’s too easy. He wanted them to feel the fear, let it consume their soul until they go insane and give up. Only then did he grant them the release from this torture by burning them in green fire that not even the storm can put out, until there’s only ash. 

He comes home, covered in blood and ash. He smiles as he places a kiss on your head when he finds you still asleep. After that, Satan offered to help you get some spare books and do something about your ruined homework. 

He became much more aggressive afterwards, no longer tolerating any ill intent directed towards you. Mutter something under your breath, he’ll make sure it’s your last. That’s how they’ll pay the price. 

Asmo

Asmo has so many admirers that are not limited to adoring fans online, but even famous celebrities that had the luck of working with him in magazine gigs and product commercials.

To him it doesn’t matter what kind of attention he gets, whether it's healthy or parasocial, he’ll bask in all of it as long as he’s the object of their affections. 

He wouldn’t normally care when his brothers would get crowded with his fans who wanted them to deliver their love letters and gifts, despite all of his brother’s complaints or protests. However, you’re the exception. 

Asmo doesn’t really hide how he feels about you. He would post your pictures with him on Devilgram or brag about you online. It did harbor some jealousy, but there are some that dealt with this worse than others. 

‘It’s unbearable to see him with such a lowly human!’ a demoness thought as she found a new post from asmo’s page with you in the background. Her nails could crack through her phone at the sheer rage and she plans to do something about these feelings.

Asmo has been calling you nonstop since you two were supposed to meet up at the house to go to a salon together, after your shift ends of course. However, you’re running late and the salon would close in half an hour. 

He was by his room when he heard your door open and closed. Asmo had the full intent to be extra whiny about your tardiness when he went to your room and opened the door. 

He was in the middle of complaining but trailed off when he saw you clenching your cheek and turned away quickly from his gaze. You were trying to make him leave, saying that you’ll change first, but he’s not buying it. “Let me see, please?” 

He moved your hands away from your face and gasped at the claw marks that ran across your cheeks. It hurts him to see that you try to hide the face he finds so adoring, so pretty. And he wants to find out who dared to ruin it.

He sits you on his lap while he applies any sort of healing skin that can restore it. He’s not going to allow a single scar caused by some low blood demon to rest on your face. He looks at you with a pout on his lips as he asks “... who was it?” 

You can’t help it, so you explain that the demoness that was also in the magazine cover with him the other week, stopped by your work and slapped you across the cheek. About how a human should not have her place next to the Avatar of Lust. 

For a quick second, he was wrath and you felt it. But he gave you a smile and held you close “you know that’s not true right darling?” and whispered sweet words to you.

Asmo spent the next few hours asking Levi and Solomon for help. The demoness instantly lost thousands of followers online, each and every scandal anonymously  exposed for the whole realm to see. He was hell bent on ruining her life with all the power he has as an influencer and a demon.

You never see the demoness again, you just know that she lost every connection and supporters she had overnight. If you ask Asmo about it, he’ll just shrug and smile “It’s just how it works honey. But don’t worry about that thing, why don’t we go to the spa like we should’ve done a few days ago? I booked a new appointment for us” 

Only Asmo, and maybe Solomon, knows the truth. So if you see a pink toad at the side of the road, pay no attention to it. 

Beel

Beel has been regarded as the star athlete when it comes to Fangol. Other than his towering height and unbelievable strength, it’s a product of all his hard work and training. He’s been doing more every time you promised to watch his games. 

He treats you like your lucky charm, and every time you’re there he would always do so well in his games. The other team doesn’t like that, they’re tired of the constant loss. Maybe if they do something about Beel’s lucky charm, he would be demotivated to play.

They’re demons after all, so cheating is not exempted in their nature. They’re willing to do what it takes to get Beel down to his knees, even if it means they’ll get their hands dirty.

There’s two days before the big game and Beel wanted to get a family-sized snack as usual from the fridge to calm his nerves. That’s when he found you rummaging through the freezer. 

Maybe you were trying to get some hellfire ice cream, so he thought. Until he saw that you pressed an ice pack against your head. “MC? Are you okay?” He walks in to check on you. 

He gasped when he saw that you looked a bit roughed up. There’s a bruise slowly forming on the corner of your lip, and some dried blood from the side of your temple. 

He knows that this was no accident when he found more bruises by your arm. Since he got a bunch of those during Fangol, he knows how to treat them. You’re no player though. After putting two and two together? He’s starting to get an idea what might’ve happened.

You did eventually open up about why you were hurt. You were going home and felt someone throw a Fangol ball to your head. You recognized that they were from the opposing team of the upcoming match and they continued to use you as target practice as you ran all the way back to the house. 

Beel was holding onto a bowl of cold water with a damp towel to treat you and as soon as you finished your story, the bowl was nothing but shards on his palm. 

His deathly aura must’ve alerted the whole house, especially Belphie who suddenly woke up from a nap as he came running towards the kitchen only to find his twin already in demon form. 

You’ve never seen him this angry that was outside food (or Belphie) and you tried to calm Beel down, but he left you in Belphie’s care while he walked out of the house. There was no way he was going to let this pass, not when you’ve already gotten hurt.

It doesn’t take Beel a long while to find the opposing team, especially when they always wear those ridiculous jersey jackets. Despite their large sizes that almost compare to him, they’re nothing but flies to Beelzebub himself. 

“Heard you had a bit of target practice earlier… I wanted to go easy on you, so if you drop out of the game and never show yourself again I'll spare you.” 

One of them scoffed and tried to throw a punch at his face. Let’s just say… never aim so close to his jaw. That player was no longer capable of holding a Fangol ball anymore, and the whole team got the message. 

You received a notification online that the upcoming Fangol game has been canceled, as the team captain is suddenly incapable of playing anymore. 

Beel comes home with a smile on his face while he has takeout of your favorite food. Mammon would comment about how it’s a miracle that he didn’t eat it on the way home, and all Beel said “It’s okay, I already grabbed a bite somewhere else.”

Belphie 

If demons would cower under the sights of Lucifer, the exact opposite can be said about the youngest. Not everyone can find the demon who does nothing but sleep to be intimidating, despite his status and power. 

Belphie doesn’t really care about trivial things about that. As if the demon who was willing to go against the royal prince himself was actually going to get bothered by mere rumors, even though it was all true.

He wouldn’t mind being called ‘a heavy weight’ when it comes to doing work, since he’d rather exert the least amount of effort if that’s what it takes for him to sleep faster. Sometimes he would forget important meetings because of his 8-hour naps. 

Today was one of those days where Belphie overslept while you were waiting for him in the library to do work together. He woke up and realized that he was almost an hour late so he was rushing towards the door but surprisingly bumped into you. 

“MC! I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to make you wait so long…” He was a bit panicked because you looked upset, though you told him that you’re fine and tried to walk back to your room. 

He grabs your arm and you wince, pulling it away from him. He looks at you confusingly, before he notices a slight cut on your cheek and how your clothes look a bit dirtier than usual. So he gets worried and asks what happened to you. 

You explained that while waiting in the library, you overheard some demons talking so badly about Belphie and calling him names. You confronted them, trying to defend his name, and the demons gave you a certain lesson for trying to sermon them. 

Belphie whines and pulls you in for a hug, trying to provide any sort of comfort he can give. “You didn’t have to do that for me MC… but thank you. Go get some rest, you deserve it more than I do.” 

His touch with you is so gentle when he makes little circles on your back as he hugs you. He lets you rest on his chest, feeling calm and safe in his arms. But Belphie was far from that. 

He could feel himself close to popping a vein, the only thing stopping him from shifting into his demon form was because he was holding you. When he puts you down on your bed as you sleep, he stares at you for a while before whispering “... I’ll repay you for your kindness, MC” 

The demons were laughing as they left the library, talking about the human they just picked on earlier. Too busy in their own merry to notice the pair of eyes that’s been following them.

Such carelessness would be their demise when they ended up getting thrown down the alley by the very demon they’ve been speaking ill of. Belphie stares down at them with no mercy in his eyes, despite the blood and screams. Unlike his twin, he was not as merciful. 

“I can tolerate the nasty things about me… but if you hurt my MC, then you deserve eternal sleep.” 

He comes home and immediately after dealing with the trash and starts walking back to your room. He’s glad to see that one of the brothers must’ve healed your wounds since your skin has been restored. 

‘... if they really see the best in me, maybe I should put in more effort.’ he thought to himself, hugging you close as he drifts off to sleep. You wake up only to find that, surprisingly, Belphie has done all the work for the both of you.

[kyberblade]

Just Need You (Din x Reader)

A/N: Okay. This turned into waaayyyyyy more than I expected but once it started it just kept coming, and I…. I kinda love it? Like for real? These two are a mess and I’m kind of obsessed with them. (Also, thank you, Anon, for being my first Mando request and for sending a request at all! You made me happy dance, you have no idea.)

Anon asked: “Hey babes, can you do a Mando x reader where the reader is a bounty hunter and leaves the ship to complete a mission and is only supposed to be gone a few hours but they’re gone all night and Din starts to panic and the next morning they show up slightly injured sand Din completely loses it and he was so scared then feels guilty? (fluff and ANGST) (sorry this is long!)”

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Space swearing. Arguing? Mentions of injury, brief mention of blood, stitches. Mando’a.

Word count: 4,014 (I’m this person now, okay?)

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex​, @grippingbeskar​, and @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis​ for reading this over for me and letting me know I’m not crazy.

Masterlist

Xxx

“It’ll only be a few hours,” you grumbled, shoving another blaster in your belt from the weapons locker.

“Do you know anything about this planet?”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing a vibroblade to tuck into your boot. “I know it’s hot.” Reaching for a thermal detonator, a gloved hand came out to grab your wrist, stopping you just short, your fingers barely scraping along its surface. With a sigh you turned your head to your left to find the Mandalorian’s helmet inches from your face.

“I’m serious,” he said in a low voice, his grip on your wrist tightening slightly.

“So am I,” you whispered. “Mando, I’m fine. I’ve done this a few times.” He scoffed at your sarcastic remark, making you smirk. When he released your wrist, you grabbed the detonator, fixing it to the back of your belt. “Besides, like I said, this’ll be easy. In and out. This guy’s not particularly dangerous, just a bail jumper. Probably won’t even get a scratch.”

He grunted. “And when you come back limping, what do I get? Hmmm?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, leveling a flat glare on him. “That’s just rude.”

“What?” He asked innocently, holding his hands out to the sides. “I’m not saying he would hurt you. I’m saying you’re known to…. Trip. A lot.”

After a loaded moment where you two just stared in silence, the only sound the child ambling down the ladder from the cockpit, you turned to the ramp, grumbling, “I’m going now.”

Pulling the lever to release the ramp, you stood at the top as it lowered, feeling the wall of beskar hovering closer and closer behind you until finally the modulated voice taunted by your ear, “Good luck.”

A wave of hot air rolled up into the Crest, making Grogu scrunch his face and babble as he tried to scale his guardian's armor.

Din bent down and scooped up the child, cradling him in his arms and shaking his head as the little green ward squinted at the bright sunlight pouring in the now open hull. Bringing his visor back up to meet your gaze as you made last minute adjustments to your belt, he tilted his head to the side just slightly before he added, “You’re gonna need it.”

With a roll of your head to face back toward the unforgiving landscape, you began down the ramp, disappearing in the glare of the sun beating down on the barren tundra.

Tugging the lever to close the ship back up, the Mandalorian turned to the child in his arms as he cooed softly. Letting out a sigh, his shoulders rolling forward slightly as he still held on to the lever with one hand, he let his head fall forward toward the kid. “I know. I know, I miss her already too, little guy. But don’t worry. She’s gonna be okay.” Bringing the hand down from the lever to rest comfortingly on the child’s front, Din patted it distractedly. “And she’ll be right back.”

Xxx

A few hours had come and passed while Din worked on a handful of odd repairs around the ship. He was currently under the control panel in the cockpit, laying on his back as he fiddled with the wiring under the console. 

Grogu was playing with his ball in the copilot's chair, chittering happily about something or other. 

Looking down toward the child, Din sighed, pulling Grogu’s attention to him. “Don’t worry. She’s just running a little late. That’s all.”

The kid tilted his head as he hummed questioningly at the Mandalorian. “She’s just a little late,” Din repeated, a bit more forcefully. “That’s all.” Looking back up at the mess of wiring overhead, he stared at it absently, his voice quiet. “Don’t worry.”

Xxx

More time had passed, it was the middle of the night, and Din began to pace. There wasn’t anything left on the ship to fix to occupy his time. Well, there was, but it would take hours, and you’d be back soon, probably needing to take off as soon as possible, so he didn’t want to get tied up in that.

The kid blinked blearily from a nearby crate, watching his protector pace back and forth as he ate from a ration pack. He paused his snacking, offering a warm, “Patu!” when the Mandalorian stopped for a moment. Grogu grinned when the shiny visor turned toward him soundlessly, beginning to babble aimlessly as he reached back into the ration pack to pull out a piece to offer to his friend, extending it as far as his little arms could go.

“Thanks, kid,” Din mumbled, taking the dried whatever it was and lifting his helmet just enough to take a small bite. He hummed in satisfaction once the modulator was back in place, the child grinning like he’d solved a dire problem for a world at war.

And in a way, Din guessed he had. It offered him peace, if only for a moment. His mind found rest, some silence for a beat, long enough to get some perspective, long enough to take a breath, and tamp down the worry niggling away at him under his armor. 

It was an unfamiliar feeling to him, worry. Something he’d not really experienced until the child, and something he didn’t altogether quite understand. He’d been in worrying situations before, but this was different. It was removed from him. It was for something outside of himself, his control, and it drove him crazy. 

You drove him crazy. 

Absolutely insane.

….and he loved it.

With you gone, something was missing. Some part of him, some piece that made up the rest of him was lost, and it was like he couldn’t settle, couldn’t find any semblance of peace until you were…. Home.

He didn’t know when or how the Crest had become home, much less when you had joined that picture, but there it was.

He needed you home.

He needed you back.

He needed you….

Just needed you.

Xxx

The child was asleep in the bunk, sealed away as Din rearranged the weapons locker for probably the seventy fifth time, or something near there, it felt like. The open spots for the weapons you’d taken out yesterday glaringly obvious no matter how he rearranged things.

With another long sigh, he moved to open the ramp, and he watched as a brilliant sunrise peeked through, streaking the reflective surfaces of the Crest in shades of pink and orange.

He’d sighed enough to sail a ship across the seas on Kamino, he thought bitterly. Every huff of air an attempt to release pent up emotions, something longing in his chest, but all it did was fog up the inside of his visor. ….Which made him sigh in frustration, doing it again, and it was a whole cycle.

A figure appeared on the horizon, and his spine straightened, attention on full alert. He hoped it was you, but since it was well past when you’d said, there was no telling at this point.

The outline looked closer much faster than anticipated, and it was then he heard the hum of a speeder engine begin to whir closer. Hand going to rest on his blaster, he drew it slowly, aiming at the rapidly approaching stranger as he pressed a button on the side of his helmet to zoom in with his display.

A fog had rolled in, concealing the features of the person atop the speeder, but something in his chest began to constrict when he thought it looked a lot like you.

As the speeder swooped to a stop in front of the ramp, Din took a cautious step forward, blaster raised and aimed as he switched the safety off. 

The figure astride the vehicle hopped off, stumbling slightly before pushing themselves up using the seat of the bike for leverage, grunting as they went. Taking a few wobbling steps toward the ramp, finally the figure stepped out of the fog enough for Din to see who it was, and his throat was suddenly so dry, he could barely croak out your name.

You huffed out a breathy laugh before grimacing and grabbing your right side with your hand. “I know I’m late, but, kriff, it’s no reason to shoot me, Mando.” Moaning, you slumped with your back against the speeder, head tilted back as you winced. “Actually, go ahead. It might be better than this.” With a hiss through your teeth, you slid to the ground, landing with a plop onto the dusty earth, barely registering the rapid holstering of a blaster, the heavy footfalls of beskar quickly making their way down to you, or his hurried questions over your tight lipped groans as you were lifted from the ground.

“What’s wrong? What happened? No, kid. Get back. Go to your- kid, no.”

Opening your eyes as much as you could muster, you peeked at the kid standing at the top of the ramp, his expression drawn in concern. “I’m fine, tiny. Do what he says.” The last part of the word came out on a strangled hiss as a wave of pain jolted through you, the Mandalorian adjusting his hold under your knees and behind your back with a soft apology. 

“I must be dying. Did Mando just apologize to me?” Reaching out, you ran your hand exaggeratedly over his helmet, patting it down like it held something you’d lost. “Is this real? Am I dreaming? I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”

“Be quiet, mesh’la,” he rumbled, setting you on the floor of the Crest before pressing a button on his vambrace to close the ramp. 

“No! No wait!” You said as strongly as you could. Reaching out you smashed the buttons on his vambrace until you found the right one, ignoring his protests, halting the ramp's upward movement. “My bag. On the speeder. The quarry…. What’s left of him….” You relaxed back onto the floor, closing your eyes.

Din shook your shoulders, making you sit up abruptly, wincing before you turned to him. “What does mesh’la mean?”

Din hesitated only a moment. “The quarry?”

You pointed at the speeder, your eyes shutting tight in pain. “He grabbed the thermal detonator. Idiot. All that I could find left of him is in that bag. I’m never using those again. The clean up isn’t worth the credits.” Turning back up to his visor with knit eyebrows, you peeked up at him. “Can we put him on ice?” You shuddered. “I don’t want to look at that bag ever again.”

Nodding, Din ran over and jumped off the ramp, grabbing your stuff off the speeder, and freezing the bag in carbonite as the ramp sealed shut behind him. You carelessly tossed your weapons to the side, mumbling about feeling heavy, so heavy….

When Din turned back from the chamber, you were slumped back against some crates, jaw hanging open limply. As he took a cautious step toward you, he realized your chest was barely moving with your shallow breaths. 

Yelling your name with no response, Din closed the last few feet left between you in seconds, sliding the last foot or so on his knees, numb to anything besides the pain in his chest at the thought of you leaving him. Not like this. 

Not today. 

No. 

“Kid!” He said determinedly, looking across your body to find Grogu already reaching out, a few inches from you. That’s all that would come out. Tilting his head to the side pleadingly, Din turned his visor back down toward your face, smoothing some hair back away from your eyes. 

Grogu understood. He always did. Putting one clawed hand on your shoulder, he closed his eyes in concentration, his already wrinkled face crinkling further. 

Din watched in amazement as color returned to your face, a dull lifeless mask having settled over it before, your eyes fluttering open as you took a deep breath.

Your eyes darted over to Din before landing on the child, wide in wonder, but you didn’t say anything. 

Reaching out, Din nudged him off of you with a gentle push of his finger. “Thanks, ad’ika.” Grogu blinked up at him in confusion. “I’ll take it from here. You rest.” Turning back to look down at you, he wagged a finger close to your face. “Don’t move.” (“Little one.”)

“Don’t think I could even if I wanted to,” you mumbled, smiling softly when he chuckled.

Getting to his feet with a quiet groan, Din got the med kit before settling back beside you. Peeling your blood soaked shirt up just enough to see the sear from the blaster shot along your side, he apologized quietly before he got to work cleaning and stitching the wound.

“You’re lucky. They just grazed you.”

“I know,” you mumbled, looking up at the ceiling of the Crest as he worked on the side of your abdomen, wincing every now and then. “Thank you. For not saying anything. I know, you warned me, I just….”

“You just….” He repeated your words back at you questioningly when you never attempted to finish the statement.

Blinking up at him a few times, you changed the subject. “You never told me what mesh’la means.”

Din just went back to sewing you up carefully, his head tilted to the side at an odd angle to see properly. Silence settled between you, and you’d accepted that’s how it would be - this was normal for him, after all - until he spoke so quietly you almost missed it.

“Beautiful.”

“Wha-”

“It means beautiful.”

Smiling softly, you winced when he pulled the thread taught. “And adi- ad- the kid? What you called him?” Stumbling over the word, you pointed to the little green face in his hammock for reference.

The Mandalorian chuckled, his voice a little louder now, but only slightly. “Little one.”

Looking at the little one, you smiled, nodding. “It fits. Speaking of,” you turned back to face your reflection in his visor. “What the hell did he do to me?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Din paused in his work for a moment, bringing his gaze up to look at you straight on. “He’s…. Special.”

“Yeah, I’ll say,” you snorted, turning back to face the child, finding him peeking over the edge of the hammock, only from his nose up showing, and of course, his ears. Smiling, you tilted your head at him affectionately. “You could open a sideshow. Make some nice credits between quarry’s.”

“You sound like Peli,” Din grumbled. 

“Hey, that woman has wisdom, you should listen to her.” You held up a finger while speaking, sitting up straighter, only to collapse in on yourself as Din tugged the stitches tight with a grunt and began working on them again.

Another silence settled in between you, filling the spaces between breaths with something comfortable and familiar.

“Well, Mando,” you finally decided to break it. “Have you eaten?”

“The…. The child fed me.”

You hesitated. “I…. I’m sorry?”

“Yes,” he said instead, tying off the stitches as he cleared his throat, reaching for a gauze pad to cover them. “And it’s Din.”

You blinked at him, your mind failing to keep up with the last few topics, especially still struggling with the image of the tiny baby feeding the giant beskar warrior. Amusing as it was. “I’m so lost.”

The Mandalorian stayed silent as he used some adhesive to keep the pad on your side, smoothing it down gently with a gloved hand. He fumbled in the kit for something else, but you couldn’t see, your pant leg being tugged by impossibly small green hands drawing your attention away.

The child ambled up into your lap and settled, giggling when you yelped at a sharp pain in your side. Looking down you saw the Mandalorian withdrawing a bacta shot and letting your shirt fall back down to cover it before turning your fury up toward his visor. 

“My name,” he explained simply. “It’s Din.”

“That hurt!” Your face crumpled from anger to nothing. “Wait. What?”

“You heard me,” he said tiredly, but amused, as he collected the used items and the kit, taking them back over to the corner they came from. 

“I did,” you nodded, staring at the floor. “And…. Wait. What?” Looking back over at him, you groaned as you pushed yourself up with the help of some crates at your back. 

Grogu’s hand resting on your cheek instantly relieved some of the pain, pulling your focus down to him. “That will never not be amazing,” you breathed with a smile.

Din rushed over, helping you to sit on top of the boxes you’d just used as leverage.

“Sit,” you demanded, finger pointed at him. 

With a sigh, he obliged, plopping on the crate next to you gracelessly.

“Explain.”

“When I was born, my parents had to give me a moniker-”

“Don’t make me shoot you.”

With the heaviest sigh you’d heard yet, he leaned back against the hull of the Crest. He looked so tired.

When he began speaking, it was the softest voice you’d ever heard him use, and somehow that made you pay more attention than anytime he’d yelled at you in the middle of a firefight.

“When you were gone…. I realized something.”

“….Be more cryptic. Please.” You sassed when he didn’t continue after a long moment, only raising your eyebrows at him when he rolled his visor toward you with as much attitude as you had just voiced. The kid squeaked something as his own contribution, pulling your eyes down to him, and you pointed at him, nodding in agreement before looking back at Man- Din. “Yeah!”

Din couldn’t help the snort of laughter that escaped as he turned his head back to look across the lower level of the Crest at nothing in particular.

“I don’t know what I would do…. If I lost you. If I really lost you.” He looked down at his hands as he fiddled with the ends of his gloves needlessly. “I’ve…. I’ve only ever felt that way about the kid, and- and I honestly don’t know what to do with this.” He looked at you again, and somehow this time you could feel his eyes on you, not just the weight of his visor. “Don’t know how.”

Holding his gaze in silence, you let his words sink in. It’s a lot to process. In reality, it’s not much, but emotionally, you need a minute. Everything you thought you knew about this man has just been turned on its head, and you just…. Need a minute. 

When you didn’t say anything, Din nodded silently, going to rise from the crate when you reached out to stop him, hand resting over his. Opening your mouth, you stared at your reflection in his visor, then turned your face to look at the floor as if it held the words you needed.

From the corner of your eye you saw Din’s shoulders deflate, roll forward in defeat, but you put a stop to that with a squeeze of his hand in yours. Weaseling your fingers into his clenched fist to open it, you threaded them with his, holding tight while you searched for the words, using the grip as an anchor while you took a leap.

“Din,” you tried, smiling at the way it felt rolling off your tongue, enjoying the way he squeezed your hand at the sound, and his breath stuttered through the modulator.

“Din,” you said more confidently, unable to shake the smile as you go on. “There is nothing I can think of that would make me happier in the entire galaxy than anything you just told me.” Pulling your eyes up toward his visor, you looked at him through your lashes, face still down towards the floor. “When I’m here, on this piece of shit ship-”

“Watch it,” Din mumbled good-naturedly.

“-I have never felt safer or more at home anywhere in my life.” Lifting your face up to him in some insane wave of courage, you squeezed his hand again. “And whether that’s as your friend, or…. Whatever,” you tucked your face into your chest for a moment to hide the smile that’s not going anywhere. “I’m just honored to get to be a part of…. This.” You gestured around the ship then between the two of you and a sleeping Grogu in your arms with your joined hands before resting them back on his knee softly. “Din,” you mumbled around another grin, unable to shake the renewed pull of your lips no matter how you tried. “I’m honored to know you.”

After staring at one another for a long moment, Din finally shook his head in amusement, gently tugging you closer by your joined hands. “Well that’s all nice, but…. I was thinking of something a little more…. Personal.”

“Oh, thank the Force,” you said in relief, letting your eyes flutter shut as he rested his forehead against yours. “Ner cyare.” (“My beloved.”)

Din pulled away slightly, tilting his head at you in question. 

You just kept grinning. “Elek, Ni jorhaa'i Mando'a.” (“Yes, I speak Mando'a.”)

Shaking his head at you, he began to chuckle. “Mir'sheb,” he mumbled. “Then why ask me all about what I said?” (“Smartass.”)

“I just wanted to see if you would tell me. You’re always so secretive.” You narrowed your eyes at him playfully. “Plus, it also seemed kind of important to you, so I didn’t want to ruin it.”

Din tilted his head to the side as he stared at you, shaking it in disbelief and amusement. “Well, way to go with that.”

The smile wasn’t going anywhere, and you didn’t mind. “I also know Huttese, Jawaese, and- oh, what else? What would you like to hear, I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

Tilting his beskar back against your soft skin, he watched as your lashes fluttered to look up at him. Despite being so close, and not truly being able to see him through the visor, he felt like you really could. And for the first time in his life, he didn’t want to hide from that feeling. 

“I just want to hear about your hunt while we get off this hellhole,” he mumbled, standing and lifting the child from your arms. Tucking him into his hammock before sealing him in, he turned back to find you standing at the ladder to the cockpit, looking at it like it’d wronged you. “What’s wrong?”

Looking up into his visor, you pouted. “I don’t think I can get up there with these stitches pulling against me the whole way up.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, touching his forehead to yours one more time briefly simply because he could now, then turning you to face the ladder and mumbling right into your ear as he crowded in behind you. “You just got shot today, and you’re complaining about stitches?”

“I’m not complaining, it’s a genuine concern,” you mumbled, fighting another grin trying to tug up the corners of your lips.

“Well, don’t be concerned,” he lilted, taking a step closer and making you begin up the ladder with nowhere left to go but up. “I’m right behind you, the whole way. I won’t let you fall.” His voice softened as you began climbing the ladder, and true to his word, he stayed behind you, almost caging you in the whole way. “Don’t worry.”

“I can see that,” you mused, climbing up into the cockpit with a soft smile. “I’m not.”

Din brushed past you, settling into the pilot’s seat, beginning the take off sequence. “Now. Tell me about this quarry.”

You sighed, plopping into the copilot seat with a roll of your eyes. “Oh, you would not believe the chaos that started from the moment- the moment-” you held up your finger, pausing for emphasis as you closed your eyes for dramatic effect, “I was off this ship.”

Din spun in his seat to face you as the ship began to lift off, his voice smug. “Try me.”

Xxx

My everything taglist: @lam-ila​, @oliviajdjarin​, @peonyophelia​, @Itsavicf, @jxvipike​, @momc95​ What’s this?

[sansaorgana]

Hey! I absolutely love your work and was wondering if you would be open to doing a John egan x reader but reader is really close with gales girl Marge and kinda takes care of her while the war is happening and neither of the guys know till they come back and release that Mabye reader moved across the street from Marge and how much she’s been helping Marge, I think it would be interesting to see a domestic and fluff relationship between the two girls and + the men being involved

hello, honey! 💘 thank you so much for your request 😘 it was a very interesting scenario, I love the idea of women helping each other in difficult times 💪🏻💪🏾 not gonna lie, though, I was so jealous of Marge while writing it 🤣 I'm a hopeless case when it comes to Buck, I swear 🙄

Nothing was easy when the boys were away. Handling everything on your own and worrying about your husband at the same time was driving you crazy. You could only imagine how the women left alone with their children had to feel like. You weren’t sure if you’d handle that.

Some women handled the new reality better, some had a more difficult time to adjust. Marge was one of them and as Bucky’s wife you felt responsible for her just like you knew that your husband felt responsible for her boyfriend. They were closest friends and you were aware that if it was Bucky who had stayed in The US, he would take care of Marge because she was important for Gale. But it wasn’t him here, it was you.

You had only met her a few times before John went to Europe but she was sweet and she had wanted you to remain friends like your men were. You would call each other every week and talk on the telephone, trying to cheer yourselves up. But when both of your men had found themselves in the POW camp, you noticed that Marge was getting worse.

You packed your bags and decided to move in with her for some time. She was living alone and spending her whole days worrying. You couldn’t let that happen.

“They are together there, darling,” you squeezed her hands in yours when you were sitting together on her couch. “Think about that, it’s quite lucky that they’re together even there,” you didn’t know how else to cheer her up.

“But God only knows how long they will be there…” She sniffled her tears back. “What if we never see them again? How do they treat them?”

“We can try to write them letters, how about that? I know that the Red Cross helps with delivering them. Maybe they will get ours,” you proposed and she nodded, hesitantly.

“You know, Gale asked me to marry him in his last letter before he went down,” she confessed and you gasped before hugging her tight.

“Oh, congratulations! Then you absolutely have to write to him! You can’t leave him waiting!” You encouraged her and she broke a smile.

“Of course I’m going to say yes.”

“Of course,” you winked at her. “You know, some part of me is less worried now when I know John’s in the camp. At least he doesn’t fly anymore,” you told her. “I only hope he behaves well there because you know what he’s like. If he acts up too much, they can hurt him.”

“I’m sure that my Gale is watching over him and doesn’t let him act stupid,” Marge squeezed your hand and you nodded. She was right. The boys were looking out for each other. Just like you and Marge.

A few weeks later you already decided to stay in the same town where Marge lived. There was a house down the road for sale and you decided to move in there. You knew that John wouldn’t get mad about it and he’d like to live closer to his friend, too. You were sure he’d follow Buck wherever he’d go so you just didn’t listen to your family telling you it was an impulsive decision. It was not. Marge needed you and you needed her.

In the meantime, Buck had his birthday in late December. Marge was very sad about it so you came up with an idea of baking him a cake and decorating it with candles. You invited a few close friends and took pictures of his birthday party to show him when he’s back. She wrote to him about it in a letter that she hoped the Red Cross would manage to deliver. You did the same thing in September 1944 when it was your husband’s birthday and then again in another December for Buck again. This time it was more sad, though, when you both realised that it was his second birthday in the POW camp already. You were slowly starting to lose hope to ever see your husband again, too. But you tried not to show it and be strong. For Marge.

In the letter you wrote to your husband, you mentioned that you moved closer to Marge and that you were looking after her. But you didn’t tell him everything because there were things that men would not understand. And there were things men should not know. You didn’t want them to worry even more but there were nights where both of you would just hug each other and cry. You tried to remain strong for her, to be the responsible one. But it was so difficult. You would let a few silent tears flow, trying to cheer her up although the words you were saying were not believable even to you.

“Germany is losing this war, Marge, we’re gonna see our boys again, soon,” you rubbed her back on those nights as you were sitting by the fireplace.

“What if they get rid of their prisoners? They’re not good people, they don’t respect the laws,” she sobbed.

And what could you answer? You felt the same, you were worried about the exact same thing on all the sleepless nights, clutching on the sheets and praying to all the gods above you to keep your men safe.

“It just won’t happen,” you told her as if you were a god yourself and you knew. But you didn’t, you couldn’t know. She chose to trust you because she desperately needed to be assured.

Sometimes you wished it had been you being held by her. Sometimes you felt weak, too. But you chose to look after her and you would not back out.

In the summer of 1945 they finally came back and you threw a small party at Marge’s house to greet the boys home. Everything had been arranged by just the two of you – flowers, decorations and food. You had lots of fun preparing it together, excitedly awaiting to see your men again.

Of course you feared they would be different now. They had spent so much time in that camp, there was no way they’d come back the same. But you promised each other to always be there for the other one; to help and support when needed. You were like family now.

At the first sight they seemed the same – except for the eyes, they were sadder now. But your John was still playful as he spun you around and rubbed his nose with yours. He made a few teasing comments and inappropriate jokes that would make Gale roll his eyes and sigh. Gale seemed to be the same as well – kind and charming as always, with only a few new scars on his cheeks that Marge kissed all over.

But you knew it was just an act. You knew because the way you behaved oh-so-normal around them was an act, too. You were smiling and joking around with your husband like in the old days, but in fact you just wanted to curl up in his arms and cry out all the ugly tears you had been holding inside for the past two years. 

When all the guests left, you helped Marge in the kitchen to wash the dishes before you and John would go home, too. You were talking with each other softly about some silly things when Gale and John entered the kitchen and leaned on the wall as they watched you.

“What is it, boys?” You asked them with a soft smile.

“Just admiring our wives, can’t we?” John winked at you and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I’m not a wife yet,” Marge teased.

“Soon you will be!” You reminded her excitedly and she giggled.

“I’ll go to the garden to see if there aren’t any dishes there,” she told you and you nodded. Marge went outside and you went back to drying the plates with a cloth.

“Thank you,” you heard Gale’s voice behind you as you flinched.

“Gee, you scared me. For what, Buck?” You asked.

“You were taking care of her,” he looked into your eyes deeply and for the first time this evening you could see all the hurt and pain on his face that he had been trying to hide.

“It’s nothing, don’t even mention that,” you told him as your voice broke. “You were looking after my Bucky.”

“And he was looking after me. Every day,” Gale nodded and walked away from you as Marge entered the kitchen again with a few plates and glasses.

You glanced at your husband who went oddly silent. He only watched you with sad eyes and you realised there were things about that war they would not tell you nor Marge in a long time. Perhaps never.

You finished the dishes and said goodbye to Marge and Gale. They were not married yet so he was supposed to rent a place nearby for a few weeks until the wedding but on that night he wanted to stay with her and you couldn’t blame him. You waved at them for the one last time and took John’s hand to go back to your house.

You opened the door and turned the light on with a relaxed sigh.

“I hope you like it, John. I had to manage everything on my own,” you told him.

He had been in the house early in the morning after his arrival but soon after you had left for the party at Marge’s house.

“Yeah, I can see that. Some things need to be fixed,” he pointed out and you shook your head at him as he grinned widely and pulled you closer for a hug. “I will repair them, don’t you worry, sugar.”

“Good. But overall you like it, yes?” You bit on your lower lip.

“Of course I do. It’s beautiful. But I’d live with you in a tent by the river, you know that? Everything would be beautiful with you in it,” he leaned in to place a soft kiss upon your lips and you threw your hands around his neck. “You’ve been a brave girl. I know what you did for Marge,” he whispered.

“I’ve already told Buck that it’s nothing.”

“No, it’s not nothing,” John insisted. “I know how much it had to cost you. Taking care of her when you needed to be taken care of, too. I know,” he caressed your cheek gently. “I’ve been taking care of him. Yeah, he was the one to keep me out of trouble but I’ve made sacrifices for him that only I know about,” he confessed.

For a moment, you felt jealous of Buck Cleven.

“I guess we are just good friends,” you tried to make a lighthearted comment about it. “They’re very lucky to have us.”

“Mhm, incredibly lucky,” John chuckled and leaned in once again to rub your nose with his. “I missed you terribly. Every day and every night. I’m not as good with words as Buck is, I’ve never been the romantic type but I hope you know that I mean it. I love you,” he whispered and you cupped his face with a smile.

“Bucky, baby, I didn’t fall for you because you were a romantic or good with words anyway. I fell for you because you were my goof. My class clown,” you assured him. “And I missed you, I missed you, I missed you… Terribly. Awfully. Dreadfully,” you kept saying these words and laughing through the tears of joy as he laughed, too.

“Okay, enough, I get the picture,” he pecked your lips. “Your goof is back now,” he assured you and you caressed his hair with your fingertips.

“I’m glad,” you nodded. “But if my goof needs to be sad sometimes or wants me to hug him and tell him it’s going to be alright, I don’t want him to keep it a secret, alright? I’m here for you, baby, for better and for worse,” you promised.

Bucky pulled you even closer for a very tight hug as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, his moustache tickling your soft skin. You put your arms around him and squeezed him in a loving way.

“I’m grateful, sweetheart,” he whispered into your ear as he placed a small kiss on your cheek, “but now it’s time for you to be taken care of.”

MASTERLIST

[primussavethesemechs]

I want the human/cybertronian life difference to be talked about more in canon

Cuz I mean. it’s RIGHT THERE.

Just a smidgen of true acknowledgment I BEG YOU HASBRO‼️

i mean come on all it takes is someone mentioning how long the wars been going for one of the humans to go “4 MILLION YEARS???? WHAT THE FUCK HOW OLD ARE YOU???”

And optimus or ratchet to be like “…5/7 million?” And all of the humans to have a break down CUZ WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOUVE BEEN ALIVE SINCE BEFORE THE HUMAN SPECIES EXISTED??? WE WERE MONKEYS WHEN YOU WERE BORN???

And the (woefully uniformed) cybertronians to be like “??? What do YOU mean your species was still evolving when I onlined, how long do you guys live?? A thousand?? A few hundred??”

And the gobsmacked humans to be like “??? NO WE HARDLY LIVE OVER A HUNDRED ITS CONSIDERED AN ACCOMPLISHMENT?? AVERAGE OLD AGE DEATH IS LIKE MID 80s!! TECHNICALLY THE AVERAGE LIFE SPAN IS 72 OR SOMETHING???”

Cue the autobots being like “😨 72??? THATS A CHILD WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT⁉️”

the more attached/emotional bots looking at their charges and realizing that not only are they sparklings compared to them but they’ll die as sparklings too in just a few decades, causing them to straight up have a mini meltdown.

Yeah they’re in a war and they’ve lost plenty of friends, but never to anything as predictable and inescapable as old age.

It’s the seeing-it-coming part that gets to them, the slow dread of knowing that even if they do everything right and keep them out of danger and they stay healthy there’s nothing they can do to stop them from withering away in a couple of decades.

Most versions of bumblebee looking at their charge/friend and realizing his assumptions about the fact that since they’re both still young that they’ll have plenty of time to just. Live together and have fun- are wrong?? Immediately tears. Even if cybertronians can’t cry tears he’s doing whatever the equivalent is and running away to cry in his room. And then running back to snatch them and take them with him cuz HE CANT WASTE A SECOND IF THEIR LIFESPANS ARE REALLY THAT SHORT HES GONNA JUST HAVE TO SPEND 24/7 WITH THEM

This whole concept ESPECIALLY applies to TFP since all of them got their own little human buddy and there’s only like 5 autobots to begin with (of the main season 1 crew) they’ve lost so many of their own so recently, their numbers are already dwindling down to nothing, they’re losing the war and the kids are what’s given them a major morale boost. To continue fighting they need hope, and the kids have kind of become their hope for the future- to know they’ll die off in under a century despite how young they still are is a shot to the spark.

Look me in the eye and tell me bee wouldnt panic hearing that Raf only has 70-80 years to live. LOOK ME IN THE EYE AND TELL ME HE WOULDNT HAVE SOME KIND OF FIT OVER BEING TOLD THAT HIS LITTLE BUDDY (from a cybertronian perspective) HAS A LIFESPAN EQUIVALENT TO A LATE STAGE TERMINAL ILLNESS DIAGNOSIS. Bee would start treating Raf like a kid with stage 4 cancer 😭

I just KNOW bulkhead would have the worst reaction other than bee, maybe even worse cuz he looks at miko and realizes she’s used up basically a fifth of her entire lifespan already and she’s Still So Little and straight up starts weeping. That’s his DAUGHTER you can’t take her from him so soon it’s not FAIR! He might have to go destroy a canyon wall or something to let some of the anger and grief out

Arcee is Not taking it well either.

She JUST got attached to this one, just got used to a new partner and your telling her that no matter what she does he’s never going to last as long as tailgate of cliff jumper did?? Even if both he and she do everything they’re supposed to do to protect him and extended his life?? Depression time baby

Optimus and ratchet don’t react as much outwardly to the news as the others but inside they’re both 💔💥

These kids have brought optimus a level of contentment he hasn’t felt in vorns, and he sees how bright their spirits shine- Only to now know those precious spirits will burn out in less than a century- it gnaws at him inside, yet another strike from the cruelty of fate

Ratchet is devastated but refuses to acknowledge it, these kids- yes even miko- have become his pseudo grandkids and he’s not ready, nor will he ever be ready, to outlive them. Jacks reminds him too much of a younger optimus, still learning and still hopeful. Miko is… well she has a fire to her that ratchet can appreciate (when she’s not actively annoying him) she’s determined enough to make anything happen which he does begrudgingly respect even if he wishes she wouldn’t just throw herself into any and every situation just for fun.

And Raf…

Raf is his apprentice, the only one of the kids to understand him and listen intently to his stories of cybertron. To show appreciation for his work and his ideas, to Listen and Learn and Improve his inventions. He harbors the most fondness for Raf since he sees so much potential in him, and has taken him under his wing in teaching him cybertronian language and biology.

He feels almost like he’s training a student to take his place- only for the ground to be ripped out from under him to know that Raf will never have the chance to succeed him, will never even outlive him.

A parent should never have to bury their child, and ratchet already feels that he has.

-

TLDR the autobots find out humans have fruit fly lifespans next to them and become one big soggy mess of tears, optimus and ratchet included although they try to have a stiff upper lip about it (and fail to varying extents)

I swear this was supposed to be about any and all continuities but TFP took over completely😭 idk it just fits the best since they focus so much on how attached the bots get to the kids

Edit: btw this was inspired from the fact I found out that the cybertronian equivalent to a year (yes I know technically they have solar cycles which are roughly a human year but what they consider a year vs their lifespan/time perception is different) is a vorn. A vorn is 80 HUMAN YEARS. I saw that and went “oh wow a vorn is like a whole human lifespan!😃” and then I went “OH A VORN IS A WHOLE HUMAN LIFESPAN 😀“