#this almost turned into a smut sorry hahahahaha

[sawyerconfort]

Prompt 47 with Marie Laveau👁️???

Hey! I'm back!

Let's begin with the prompts, shall we?

I love Marie, so I hope you like it, anon!

STAN ANGELA BASSETT!

Requests are open and you can see the prompt list here!

Enjoy!

(Notice how all my plot problems have to do with Hank… so much so that he's not even in the requests options ;))

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47. "you're so jealous." | marie laveau x reader

You were on the fence about Marie and Hank's relationship. Of course, he was a witch hunter and you knew his missions also involved hunting down voodoo practitioners like her. But that wasn't all that made you hate the man.

It could have been all in your head, but the way he looked at her... And how she seemed to respond, always trying to seduce him like a vampire seduces a victim...

Not that you meant to sound possessive, but it was unavoidable.

When you saw him appear, and Marie whispered in your ear to wait in the hall, so as not to make a bad impression, your brain was already on alert. They spent hours locked in that room and the intrusive thoughts filled your mind with paranoia.

But you didn't have the heart to confront your girlfriend about it. Until then.

"We're going to need your hair cut soon, honey," she told you on one of the days when the salon didn't seem crowded. Marie always made time to be with you as soon as she saw you, you were kind of the exception to all the problems she had, and when no clients showed up, then that was even better. "Make sure you don't book somewhere else, or I'll get upset, hm?"

You smiled and were about to kiss her teasingly when the hunter's figure appeared through the window and sent your brain into predator mode. Noticing your hesitation, Marie looked out the window in the same direction and a crooked smile appeared on her lips.

"Don't worry, (Y\N), I'll send him away soon," she promised, pulling away from you and opening the door for him. Hank was frowning and you seemed to scowl back when you saw the two of them whisper.

And then, they went to Marie's room, hidden between four walls.

You resisted the urge to huff and tried to distract yourself with some of her magazines while you waited, but their secrets wouldn't leave your mind. Nor the jealousy.

***

They took longer than the last time to get back, and when Marie left, she had the same smirk on her face, looking at Hank. He glanced at your face and simply slammed the door, looking disappointed, fire shooting from his mouth.

"Would you like to help me close up the salon, (Y\N)?", Marie asked, as she was already fixing the windows. You got up in silence and avoided looking at her in every possible way, afraid that you might end up giving the wrong idea. When you were finally closed off again, you left for her quarters first, not expecting her to follow you.

The rest of the afternoon and early evening was silent, you didn't say anything about Hank or the customers like you usually did, and Marie was dying of curiosity and wanting to tease you about what was causing your bad mood.

She left the dishes with you and went to tidy up some things scattered around the room, still hoping that you would join her. Taking a relaxing shower, you went to the suite and sat on the bed, with your girlfriend looking you up and down.

"You're so jealous, it's cute", she whispered, holding you from behind, by the shoulders, and whispering in your ear. "Don't worry, (Y\N), he's not my type. He is an idiot. He's not even good for a sex toy."

You looked at her and shook your head. "I'm not jealous."

"Oh no?" Marie raised an eyebrow. "Then why are you avoiding me? Why are you answering me with half words? Are you sure it's not really jealousy?"

"No, Marie."

"Well, I say it is," she interrupted, and practically threw herself on top of you, kissing your lips with an inexplicable desire. She kept you pinned to the bed until you lost your breath, and when she pulled away, her smile was still mischievous. "It's jealousy, yes, look at the way you kissed me… It almost looked like you wanted to guarantee possession."

You rolled your eyes.

"Oh, don't roll your eyes at me, sweetie, you know the rules…", she bit her lip. "Don't worry, (Y\N), you're the only one I love and I'll always be yours, nobody else's. I promise."

You looked at her. "Stop, it's not jealousy."

"Awn, you have an adorable pout on your lips…", she said, taking your face by the chin and giving you a peck. "Stop being silly, (Y\N), want me to prove to you that you don't need to have that kind of reaction, hm?"

Before you could say anything, Marie kept kissing you, gaining your attention and your full desire, just as she had wanted before. You two engaged in an intense and revealing night of love, just like all the others.

At the very least, you were sure that voracity and that irresistible body someone like Hank would never be able to call his own.

[discotitsposts]

Just Ecstasy

18+ bdsm, bondage, kinks, etc so mdni

she her pronouns used

me: i’m not gonna write smut for a while probably

also me: makes this fic

You loved your boyfriend. Really loved him. You would do anything. Well, almost anything.

The idea had seemed fun at first. A kinky little game only you two could know about.

When Spencer had held your wrists together waiting for your permission, you took a breath and said “Go ahead.”

However, the second he clicked the metal cuffs around your wrists you freaked out and tried to pull them off. You hated the feeling. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel safe with Spencer. That was one of the strongest feelings you felt with him.

In one quick motion he had unlocked the cuffs and held you saying over and over again, “It’s alright, they’re off, you’re ok.”

You two hadn’t spoken of this again.

Until you thought about it. You had wanted that so badly you had just been nervous. Of what exactly? You didn’t know. You wanted to try again.

A week later when Spencer gets home, you’re waiting in your sexiest lingerie smiling, holding up a pair of handcuffs that may work better for you. They had a soft padding on the inside. Not as harsh as just metal. You had picked them up at a sex shop earlier that day just for the occasion.

Spencer walks over to you and kisses you. “What’s all this?” He asks.

“You should know smarty pants.” You tease handing him the cuffs.

“I thought you were nervous. I just don’t want to upset you.”

“No no, we should have started with these. The metal ones just freaked me out.”

“Are you sure? Like are you surely sure?”

“I’m so sure, that I hid the key.” You laugh.

“YOU WHAT?!” Spencer yells.

“I didn’t want to chicken out again!” You shrug.

“Tell me where it is now.”

“Sorry you’re going to have to force it out of me mister agent.” You smirk.

“That’s Doctor agent to you missy.”

You turn around and shake your ass a little, “Come get me and force a confession out of me mister doctor sir.”

That’s just what he did.

Before he handcuffed your hands behind your back, he made sure you were alright. “Ready?” He asked.

“Yes.” You nod confidently.

He yet again put the cuffs on you. The click of the cuffs made a shiver run down your spine in anticipation.

He breaks character to ask, “Feel okay?”

“Yes. I’m alright.” You weren’t lying. It felt much better this time. You felt no anxiety. Just ecstasy. You practically moan at his hands roaming your body. Then his next move shocks you. Quickly getting back into character, he bends you over the table and spanks you.

“Wanna tell me where that key is young lady?” He threatens dominantly.

“Nope. My lips are sealed.”

“Hmm she’s stubborn.” He grabs your favorite vibrator and a paddle. “We’ll soon fix that.”

He presses the button on the vibrator. Nothing. “How the hell do you turn this on.” He asks.

You giggle. “Shut up.” He sneers. You stop laughing.

“Here let me.” You click and hold the button with your arms behind you. You hear the BZZZZZ immediately after.

“Thanks. Ok now, tell me where you hid it. Or I’ll be forced to use harsher methods.” He rubs the vibrator along your most sensitive spot. It feels amazing.

Moaning, you say, “Never.”

“Oh really?” He turns off the vibrator. You hear the buzzing stop and try to look behind you but you can’t see anything.

Spencer’s hands go up your waist and he starts tickling you. Your weakness. You scream-laugh.

“OH MY GOD AHAHAHAH!! SPENCER NO!”

“Tell me.” He says firmly.

“OK FINE ITS IN THE MEDICINE CABINET!!HAHAHAHAHA BEHIND YOUR EYE DROPS!!”

“Thank you.” He picks you up brings you to the bedroom. He lays you on the bed and leaves you there with the vibrator pressed against you.

He comes back holding the key. You think he’s going to uncuff you so you try to lift your hands.

He walks closer to you until his crotch is near your face. He runs his hand along your hair and says,“Oh I’m not done with you yet sweetheart. We’re just getting started!”

writing this had me 😫💗

this is probably the most sexy time i’ve ever written so hopefully it’s alright for like the first one

literally wrote this in like 20 minutes. how?!

hope anyone who reads this enjoys!! I love feedback!! 💗💗

tags/

@whoisspence

@lemonadeinfuser

@fictionalobssed

@exoticisles

@in-another-april

(if anyone else would like to be tagged in future works don’t hesitate to lmk!)

[always-andromeda]

“Fool for Love” - Hank! Would be really into a fluffy cute cuddle session (naked 😏) and whoops, Hank lets a fart slip out and reader (she/her) immediately laughs loudly. Hank is mortified for a moment, but then reader unexpectedly farts pretty soon after! Now they’re both laughing and no one has to be embarrassed! Ain’t love grand? Farting is the great equalizer, baby! Hahahahaha 🤣 I’ll let you decide if you wanna get into backstory on why they’re both so gasy…

Author's Note | yESSS, I'm finally getting to one of your requests, bb!! UGH. as a person who gets insecure with just existing, this was kind of therapeutic and calming to write, ngl. thank you for being so patient with me and lovely and supportive in general! it's much appreciated!!

Warnings | implied smut, nothing else I can think of!

The pleasure fades until it's nothing but a fluttering heartbeat. A beautiful afterglow for you to bask in as Hank collapses beside you with a groan. You'd never thought you'd find yourself in bed with him; with that quiet but intense man you'd once met so long ago during your morning bus ride. All his hesitant glances had built unimaginably into something you were always excited to explore. Hank turns onto his side to face you.

Brushing a shaggy section of Hank's hair to the side, you observe his features. His light colored eyes, lingering tenderly on your own. Pink lips parting just slightly as he breathes steadily. His adam's apple bobs when he swallows hard and smiles placidly.

He's always so awkward. All knitted brows and wringing hands as he struggles to find the words to describe just how much he'd wanted this: closeness. He stays quiet though and allows you to watch him. His cheeks are slightly flushed with warmth when your hand caresses one of them, thumb swiping away a few drops of sweat from beside his lip.

Then it slips out. “It” being a loud fart that tears through the comfortable silence that had fallen over the room. Hank clenches his eyes closed and almost begins to apologize as he waits for the bed to shift. For you to practically jump away from him.

But all he hears is the sound of you giggling. Hank cracks an eye open and peeks through at you.

He finds your bright smile paired with upturned brows, "Do you have an upset stomach or something, Hank?"

Your concern only soothes him marginally. He still replies evasively, "No, I'm fine."

Grin growing in an attempt to placate him, you begin to speak, "Really, it's fine! It's totally normal and--"

Then it happens again. Only this time, you're the culprit and Hank is left staring with wide eyes before he bursts out into his own bout of gorgeous laughter. You scrunch up your nose at him and shove his shoulder lightly.

Hank says in a teasing tone, "You said that it's totally normal!"

"That's because it is!"

"Good. Then we can pretend it didn't happen." he concludes; hoping that's the absolute end of it. Until, of course, the smell begins to waft up the sheets and you fan them, giving yourself some fresh air.

"I'm sorry, but we can't pretend that didn't happen." you chuckle. Hank doesn't return the same energy. Your nonchalance begins to waver in the face of his hesitance. Oh God, did you just make this weird?

Hank just rolls his eyes at you. "God, you're so weird."

You hope that moving a little closer doesn't entirely ruin the mood and tease, "Nah, we're both weird. We're both just disgusting flesh bags. But at least we like each other. That makes things a little easier."

Hank finally gives in, "It does make things a tiny bit easier."

"Come here, weirdo." you hold out an arm and beckon for him to move in. He turns onto his other side and slides right into your arms. Being held like this is new for him, but he receives it as if he's been there dozens of times before. Your head nuzzled against his shoulder, you press loving kisses to his skin, spattered with faint freckles and array of pores you are already becoming familiar with.

And as anxious as a moment like this makes him, that sickness in his stomach is no longer twisting and rearing its negative head. It's as if you'd simply scratched its chin before patting it away. Cooing that the nerves had had their time to come out and play but that they were now overstaying their welcome. And with that, they retreated through some void in his heart.

Whether it's a void that will ever fully heal enough to not bother him anymore, he has no idea. But with the way you welcome the comfort with open arms, he begins to think that maybe he can manage getting a little better at accepting himself.

[joel-millerr]

It All Makes Sense Now

Chapter Five of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: The three of you land on Corvus to find a Jedi, but what starts out as a simple job is quickly turned into a truth you definitely weren’t prepared to face

A/N: okay sorry peeps but no smut in this one...I did say slow burn, right? hahahahaha. there's a bit of fluff towards the end, but this chapter focuses more on the reader's relationship with the force and their conflicting feelings, but it's not all bad, we have a special guest in the next two chapters! besides that... this basically a shit ton of angst. also, I split this chapter in two so the next update should be within the next week? 

Warnings: ummmm there’s a small mention of torture? (like in the ep the Jedi with the prisoners strung up outside the magistrate’s gate but other than that... I don't think there’s anything but pls tell me if there’s something I missed!)

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Your body jolts awake to the sudden drop out of hyperspace. Panic quickly sets into your blood as you try to get your bearings, but once you see Mando sitting quietly in his chair along with the Child sitting on the control panel just to his right, your heartbeat steadies, and a wave of relief washes over you. Using the heels of your palms to rub at your eyes and clear your vision, you catch sight of the planet Mando had mentioned just before takeoff on Tatooine through the transparisteel.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.” He addresses as he hears you stir, still keeping the visor glued to the view in front of him.

“Mmm,” You groan back, still somewhat asleep and unable to use your words to answer him properly.

“Corvus, this is the place,” Mando’s voice cuts through the gentle hum of the ship. “I’ve detected a beacon.” You’re about to answer him when you realize that he wasn’t even talking to you to begin with. He was talking to the kid.

The Child looks up at him, and coos as if they’re having a conversation with each other even though they clearly don’t speak the same language, and don’t understand what the other is saying.

“I’m gonna start the landing cycle. You better get back in your seat.”

He looks up again at Mando, but doesn’t budge from where he’s currently seated. Turning his gaze to one of the levers on the control panel, he stares at the durasteel ball just atop of the handle. You’re not sure why the kid loves that ball so much, but it clearly means a lot to him because you’ve seen the way he gets upset or fussy whenever Mando tries to take it away from him.

“Hey,” He warns—not in an aggressive way, but a stern way like a child being scolded by their parent. “What did I tell you? Back in your seat.”

This time the kid listens, letting out a chuff of air before crawling down the little ledge he was seated on previously and gently scuttling back to the seat to your left.  

Maker, your body aches. Sleeping in the chair every night has seriously done a number on your bones and muscles. Twisting your upper body and using the back of the chair to hold yourself in place, a series of smalls cracks echo through the cockpit, and it somewhat releases a bit of the tautness in your back and along your spine. Suddenly becoming aware that you haven’t taken a sanisteam in…well you’re not sure exactly how long it’s been since you left Tatooine, but it’s definitely been long enough; you could seriously benefit from one right now.

Using your palms to push yourself up to your feet by your knees, you inform Mando you’ll be heading down to clean yourself up. “I’ll be ready to go once we land.”

“All right.” He says matter-of-factly.

You wait a couple of seconds before moving, elongating your arms above your head before bringing one of them behind you and stretching out your bicep, holding your elbow with your other arm. You repeat the process with the opposite arm and feel your body slowly coming back to life. A sanisteam is starting to sound better and better with every second. Your feet guide you to the ladder and take two rungs at a time, feet hitting the ground in record time. Not even bothering to wait until you reach the fresher, you strip out of your clothes and gather them together in a small pile atop one of the crates lingering around in the hull.

Once in the fresher, you turn on the water to almost the hottest setting possible. It stings your skin at first, but your body quickly acclimates to the heat, muscles slowly relaxing in response to the gentle massage the showerhead exudes as it hits you, releasing the stiffness from your body. Truthfully, you could stay in this tiny space for hours and just let the water continue to cascade down your skin until your fingertips were wrinkled like a Dressellian prune, but you don’t want to use up all of the hot water since you’re not the only one on this ship who needs to sanisteam. The longer the water pressure falls onto your upper body, you begin to feel a sharp pain on your left shoulder, and you’re forced to recoil from the water in an effort to stop the throbbing ache. Inspecting your naked form to find the source of the discomfort, you notice a large, plump purple bruise nestled between the crook of your neck and the top of your shoulder. It’s a dark shade of purple, with swirls of yellow and forest green surrounding it. When the Kriff—

Oh.

It suddenly comes back to you.

The firm grip on your shoulder.

The feeling of Mando’s cock on your tongue.

His moans.

Fuck, it’s enough to make your own groan echo through the walls of the refresher.

Maker, pull yourself together!

Giving yourself a gentle slap on the cheek in an effort to knock those filthy thoughts out of your mind and knowing the Crest will be landing in the next couple of minutes, you quickly wash the grime off your body while trying to be mindful of your bruise, and rinse yourself off before grabbing your only remaining clean pair of clothes left, dressing hurriedly just as you hear his footsteps reach the top of the ladder. Your clothes stick to your wet skin, and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but you try not to pay too much attention to it; you’ll dry up eventually.

The Mandalorian descends the ladder, the Child burrowed in one arm, then hands him off to you as he heads to the armory to grab his pulse rifle.

“Hey,” He says before calling your name to get your attention. Turning his body towards you, his arm extends out in your direction, a blaster in his hand. Your eyes shift down to the gun, taking notice of it before your brows pull together tightly, shifting your gaze back up to him in confusion.

“You should probably take this back. Just in case,” He gestures the gun at you, holding the barrel of it so you can grab the handle. It’s a small act, giving you back your blaster, but there’s an unspoken message as he hands you your gun. He now trusts you enough not to shoot him and run off, and at the same time, this gives you the reassurance you needed that he no longer views you as just a quarry, but as his partner.

Putting the kid down for a moment to grab your bag and ruffle through it to retrieve your thigh holster, you strap it around your leg and plop the blaster into the pouch. Once you turn around to pick the Kid back up, you notice he’s already by the back ramp with Mando, both waiting for you to catch up with them.

You head down the ramp first, walking a few feet away from the Crest and taking an immediate scan of the area, as you always do whenever you’re in new territory. It comes at almost as a shock to you that Mando doesn’t instantly head down after you. Instead, he stays at the top of the ramp with the kid, waiting for you to give them the ‘okay’. The sun can barely penetrate the dense amount of cloud here, the area is covered in fog as far as the eye can see, making you shift anxiously. The faint cry of the native beasts’ boom in the distance, making your skin crawl.

Mando’s landed the Crest in a small clearing. The trees appear to be snags—lifeless due to its climate and the lack of sunlight, making the whole planet even more eerie. The quicker you meet the Jedi, the quicker you can get off this planet.

“Not much to see here,” You announce, slightly disappointed by the scenery. When you don’t immediately see a threat, you gesture with your hand that it’s safe to come down, and so he does. The fact that Mando now acknowledges the routine you’ve created isn’t lost on you. In truth, it makes your heart swoon because you both know that he doesn’t needto wait for you. Mando’s more than capable of checking for threats himself, and defending you both if someone tries to ambush you, but he knows it puts you at ease to check for yourself, and the fact that he’s indulging you in this small service shows you he’s more of a softy than he lets on.

As Mando walks towards you, he hears the kid huffing behind him and turns his body to face the little baby waddling down the ramp before falling back on his bum. You make out a small sphere in his hands and realize it’s the knob from the lever in the cockpit. When did he snatch that and how did Mando not see him take it?

“What did I say about that?” He disciplines, taking the ball from his hands and holding it out in front of him. “This needs to stay in the ship.” The Child looks up at him fondly, chattering incoherently as he watches Mando place the ball in his utility belt.

“Never had dealings with a Jedi before,” He admits before leaning down to pick up the Child and placing him in the makeshift pouch he designed for the baby that’s strapped across his cuirass. “Let’s head into town. See if we can pick up a lead.”

He walks ahead of you just by a couple feet. Your hand hovers over your blaster the entire time, body on edge as you both make your way through the forest. The air is hot and humid, almost suffocating—you can only imagine how hot Mando must feel under all that armor. Your clothes stick to you like glue, a mix of water from the sanisteam as well as from the damp air. Every now and then, the Child babbles nonsense and Mando answers him like he knows exactly what the kid is saying. “Don’t worry, Kid. We’re okay.”

It’s quite endearing, seeing such a gentle side to the Mandalorian. You know not many people have had the opportunity to see these little moments, making this that much more special. Watching two beings, appearing to have nothing in common, and clearly coming from two very different upbringings, but having such a deep connection you’re not sure you’ll ever fully understand is quite a beautiful sight. It makes you appreciate these moments so much more. Mando’s letting you in on these precious exchanges, and you’ll cherish them for as long as you live.

After walking for what feels like hours, off in the distance you catch sight of a giant wall made of duracrete, and can faintly make out little blobs at the top of the wall; soldiers by the looks of it.

“A fortified city?” You ask him.

“Seems like it.” He answers as you draw closer to the gates. “Let me do the talking, all right?” He says, more of an order than an actual statement, but you choose not to argue. Mando usually knows better than you, and you’ve shown that you have a tendency to lose your temper, therefore he’s definitely the better mediator between you two.

As you both appear from the edge of the forest, the guards atop the parapet flock to the front gate, their rifles pointed at you. Mando stops just a few metres shy of the gate, waiting. A man suddenly appears, studying you both.

“State your business.” He shouts, standoffish.

“Been tracking for a few days,” The Mandalorian begins to say. You continue studying the gunslinger as well as the other soldiers whose rifles are still pointed at you. Hand continuing to hover merely inches above your blaster, your body fighting the urge to turn this into a fight. “Looking for a layover.”

The man shifts his gaze between you and Mando, clearly debating whether or not to shoot you both where you stand.

“Nice armor.” He jests.

Kriff, you don’t like the look of this. You’re both severely outgunned, and despite the beskar amour Mando wears, that doesn’t guarantee that you’ll live through this if a fight ensues.

The man to your left doesn’t answer, opting to gauge the gunslinger’s demeanor, waiting for him to press you again. “You a hunter, then?”

“That’s right.”

“Both of you?” His stare turns to you, so you glare back at him, refusing to back down and cower under his own piercing scowl.

“Yes.” You hiss through gritted teeth.

The helmet turns slightly in your direction as if warning you to watch your tone. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you straighten out your shoulders and let your arm drop to your side, no longer hovering over your blaster.

“Guild?”

“Last I checked.” Mando answers, a glint of annoyance is hidden under the deepness of his baritone.

The man studies you two for a couple more seconds, then orders the guards to open the gate. Letting out a deep breath through your lips, you start to feel like this will be the beginning of a very tense day. Better to keep quiet and let Mando handle this, since you tend to shoot first then ask questions later. Your partner is much more of the level-headed one—who would have thought that?

The city itself is small, and very quiet—way too quiet for any normal city. Every city and village you’ve visited have been vibrant and loud, with native villagers and visitors mingling together, but here? The residents walk silently, keeping their heads down, and only peeking at you both through the corners of their eyes. The guards walk around, hands planted firmly on their rifles, as if to be looking for trouble. Immediately, your bones tense and that anger you have trouble controlling begins to bubble up inside you. These villagers seem trapped—Maker, even the kids aren’t running around. They’re stuck to their parents like glue, never taking a single step away from them. This is a city under a gruesome Magistrate.

As you make your way down the main road, Mando catches sight of a vendor and heads for their stand. “Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…” But as he draws closer to the elderly woman behind the table, they quickly turn their back to you and disappear down a quiet alley.

Eyebrows pulling tightly, your jaw clenches, completely astounded at how these people are too afraid to even talk to you. What kind of monster forces its citizens to live in constant fear to the point of being too afraid to speak to travelers?

Before you know it, you’re following the vendor down the alley when you see another elderly man bending down and whispering to some younglings. Your neck cranes to the side, and you walk over to him cautiously, hoping you won’t startle him.

“Excuse me,”

Once he catches you in his peripherals, he ushers the kids away before rising to his feet and turning his body to you.

“We need some information.” You announce, trying to keep your voice as gentle as you can despite the white-hot rage cooking up in your veins. “We’re looking for someone. Could you help—”

“Please,” he pleads as he holds a palm out in front of him to stop you from elaborating, voice quiet as to not draw any attention to himself. “Do not speak to any of us.”

“Look,” Mando interjects, his attitude becoming less patient as time ebbs on. “I just need to know—”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re approached by two armed guards. Your hand flies to your holster, and Mando quickly shoots his hand out to stop you.

“The Magistrate wants to see you.” Their voices come out heavily distorted by their voice-box. It’s deep and frightening—no wonder these villagers are terrified. Even you are somewhat taken aback by their aggressive inflection, you can only imagine how these people must feel. Completely helpless and cut off from the anyone else, they don’t have a fighting chance even if they wanted to overthrow their government.

The old man leans over and takes a step back as one of the guards takes a step towards him. Your body cuts the droid off, putting yourself between the both of you. They’re wearing what appears to be a gas mask, but you stare at him, imagining where his eyes would be and continue to burn your own eyes into him, full of poison and anger. Inside, you’re begging him to make a move; to give you an excuse to shoot him right where he stands, but Mando’s visor snaps towards you, shooting you a warning as to not do something stupid. “Let’s go.” He says to you.

You follow Mando and the first guard down the main street, keeping an eye out on that other guard that treads behind you. The soldier leads you to another gate and kriff, you’re completely dumbfounded by what’s in front of you.

Along the cobblestoned street just ahead of the second gate are…prisoners. Prisoners strung up on various poles with a tiny podium to stand on, surrounded by what looks to be some kind of electrical barrier around them. The hostages are disturbingly frail, with many of them scarred with markings of fresh and old burn wounds you assume are from the bars circling around them. One man nearly doubles over and is electrocuted, its power so strong you can see the outline of their bones when the voltage hits their skin. You shudder at the sight of them, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

They whisper desperately, begging for help but Mando continues walking, only offering one of the prisoners a quick glance. You stop in front of one of the hostages, eyes looking up at him as he cries, pleading over and over again for your help. Your jaw slacks, wanting to say something, but knowing nothing you say will matter. You can’t help them, at least not right now. Making a mental note to tell Mando once you head back to the Crest that you will free these prisoners, your eyes meet with the man’s own droopy, hooded lids, and hope they somehow can understand.

“Hey, girl,” A guard yells out. Looking down at the ground, you hear his heavy footsteps walk towards you, each step getting louder and louder as he nears you. “Keep moving.” He warns.

Biting your tongue and white knuckling your fists at your sides, you catch up with Mando, choosing no longer to wait till you are alone to whisper, “We’re freeing these prisoners before we leave,” through gritted teeth.

Mando’s helmet dips forward just enough for you to see it. The faster you find this Jedi, the sooner these prisoners can be freed. Once the first gate closes behind you, the second one opens and your jaw downright drops.

Firstly, there’s a fucking moat in front of you. When you and Mando were walking through the woodland in search of the village, you hadn’t even come across any body of water, and here the Magistrate is living with a full-on fucking moat. If that wasn’t enough, Maker there are trees here—not just stumps or snag trees, but actual trees flourishing in her small haven. They appear to be some sort of pine tree, but you can’t be sure since you’re too far away from them. Somehow even the air feels different here. Logically, you know that makes no sense, but it must be due to the contrast between how the Magistrate lives compared to how her own people live. There are hostages strung up, and being tortured, citizens who are too scared to even talk to you, living in tiny homes with little to no resources, and this one person is living with such excess and wealth, all the while quite literally separating themselves from the city’s population. It’s disgusting, it’s totalitarian, and the thought of people living in such horrible conditions is making your head spin.

It’s not that you were naïve enough to think there weren’t people living in such awful conditions, it was just that you had never actually seen this firsthand, so it was easy to forget that not everyone was as fortunate as you. Sure, water was a luxury back when you were just a child, but you had never been oppressed or discouraged from being a child. You had the luxury of walking around the city, and not having the stress or fear that any minute now a guard could kill you for doing something as normal as talking to another person. Not knowing how many more planets are under such control, it makes you want to search this entire galaxy and save every single citizen from this kind of barbarity.

The Magistrate is standing by the edge of her moat, appearing to throw something in the water. Maker, if she has fish in this moat, you’ll be… literally fucking speechless.

She addresses Mando to come forward, so he does. You opt to stay by the gate—deciding that it’s would be too difficult to hide the anger on your face and choose to wait for him to return.

--

“So she wants you to kill the Jedi?”

“Yes.” He says before putting the Child down gingerly on a smooth boulder.

According to the Magistrate, the Jedi is hiding somewhere in the forest, so now you and Mando have been searching aimlessly through the vast amount of woodland for any sign of a Jedi—whatever what means, but after what felt like hours of searching, your feet were throbbing. After ten minutes of begging him to take a small break, he finally gave in.

Plopping yourself down next to the Child, you continue to pester Mando with more questions. “And she’ll give you that beskar staff if you kill them?”

A drawn-out sign emits from the helmet. “Yes.”

“But we’re not doing that, right?” The question coming out rhetorically.

“No.” He answers curtly.

“Okay, good.” The conversation goes silent for a few seconds, and then your lips are moving again. “I really want to head back in there and shoot that woman right between the eyes.”

A noise comes from him that you’ve never heard before. Was…was that a fucking laugh? Is he fucking laughing at you? “You wouldn’t even get that close before one of her droids would shoot you down.”

“Believe it or not, Mando, but I’m a pretty decent fi—”

All of a sudden, Mando turns his body to yours and throws a gloved hand over your mouth. A small yelp escapes you but is muffled by leather. Your own hand flies to his, struggling to remove his kriffing hand from your face, tugging and trying to pull away from him.

“Stop!” He whispers, before raising a finger to his helmet where his mouth would be, ordering you to be quiet. Giving him a nod, he lets go of you, and presses a button on the side of his helmet then pivots around, scanning the area for lifeforms. Off in the distance, a large beast trots along the forest edge and Mando’s body relaxes.

“False alarm,”

“What the hell, Mando?” You force out through jagged breaths.

“Why are you here?”

Both your bodies whip around and catch the sight of a female Togruta standing just a few metres away from you. Her blue stripped lekku are enlarged around her round face and extend all the way to her midthighs, giving an indication that she’s of a mature age, although her face is clean of wrinkles, her features still smooth, suggesting she’s still well within her prime. Thick montrals pointing towards the sky like mountain tops, her orange skin reminds you of Tatooine sunsets—warm, and deep. White pigments outlining her cheeks, forehead, and eyebrows, Maker, she is stunning, and intimidating.

In her hands, she’s holding what appears to be two beaming swords. Not unlike the electrical barrier that the Magistrate had her prisoners surrounded by, although this type of energy looks much more elegant and impressive. Its luminescent white light purrs, you can hear the humming even though you’re a couple metres away from her. You’ve never seen a weapon quite like it. It’s much more of sophisticated weapon than you’ve been privy to seeing, but it’s exceptionally beautiful.

“Ahsoka Tano?” Mando asks, holding his hands out in front of him, taking a very cautious step towards her. She tenses, one of the laser swords comes up and she holds it across her chest, keeping the other steadily by her side. Your hand placed firmly on your blaster strapped to your thigh, heart thumping in your chest, you wait for her to attack.

“Who are you?” She says cautiously, keeping that glowing spear between Mando and herself.

“Bo-Katan sent me.” He says warily.

The Togruta stares at Mando, then to you before straightening out her back, her weapons’ beaming white blades retracting into their handles.

“We need to talk.” Mando clarifies, standing up straight.

“Well, I hope it’s about them,” She answers kindly, shooting you a quick wink before taking a step towards you.

Crossing your arms and lips forming a tight line, your head jerks back when she responds.

“What do you mean, “them?”

Mando retreats to get the Child, and holds him with one arm, choosing to stand almost directly between you and Ahsoka. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Her posture changes from weary to inviting, hooking her weapons back on her hips, her back untensing and taking a step back. “Come.”

You and Mando follow her through the thick, dense woods, nearly tripping and twisting your ankle trying to avoid the roots that are nestled above the dirt, or stumps that have fallen over and are lying on the ground.

She finds a spot not too covered in trees, with a couple of boulders lying around in a circle. In the middle are embers from an old fire that you assume she made for herself. She sits down on one of the rocks, then you and Mando follow suit. He places the Child gently between himself and Ahsoka, and presses a button on his vambrace, causing a flame to shoot out from his wrist, reigniting the ashes. Instead of waiting for either of them to speak, you begin questioning Ahsoka.  

“So,” You say, head craning in her direction. “You’re a Jedi?”

Ahsoka lets out a small chuckle, eyes shifting towards the ground. You can vaguely make out the blaze in the reflection of her eyes. “No, I’m not a Jedi, not anymore.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about this little one?” Mando questions her, jerking his neck to the left where the green baby is perched between them. She turns her head towards the Child, and almost instantaneously, his giant ears perk up, big eyes peering up at her, uttering unintelligibly.

“Can I have a moment alone with him?” She asks you and Mando. He doesn’t say anything in response, but stands up straight and walks away, not once looking back. You’re a few seconds late, but finally rise to your own feet before taking one last look at Ahsoka. She smiles at you and nods. You hear her voice and at first believe she’s actually spoken to you, but quickly realize her lips haven’t moved.

It’s okay.

Surely, you’re imagining things. It’s not possible to hear someone’s voice so clearly in your mind unless they actually said something to you…right?

Pushing the thought out of your mind, you turn on your heel, and you walk over to where Mando is pacing back and forth. He’s quiet as usual, but his body language is screaming. He’s tense, boots retracing the same steps over and over, shoulders square and hands fidgeting by his thighs. The apprehension, his nervousness—it’s practically seeping from him. It’s not something you ever thought you’d see—Mando anxious about a situation, given that he’s usually a lot better at keeping his cool under pretty much every single stressful situation.

At first, you think about asking him if he’s okay, or showing him that you notice his tentativeness, but it’s quickly shoved out of your mind when you remember how little he likes to talk about himself or how he’s feeling. You know firsthand that he prefers to stay silent rather than admit what’s going on inside his head.

Choosing to sit on a tree stump that’s fallen over on the ground, you continue to study Ahsoka and the Child. They stare at each other for a couple minutes not saying anything, just offering each other a series of smiles, gazes, and tilts of the head. As you continue to watch them, it’s almost as if you can hear them, which you know logically makes no sense. It’s very faint and muffled, taking all the concentration you can muster but you swear to the Maker you can hear them speaking to each other. The harder you squint, the clearer their voices get. However, it’s when you close your eyes and pull your brows together tightly, giving them your full attention that their voices become almost as clear as day.

His name is Grogu.

He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

Order 66.

What’s order 66?

Before you can make out anything else, Ahsoka’s voice pulls you out of your concentration, calling you both over. Jumping to your feet in record time, you reach out and grab hold of Mando’s vambrace. He stills at your touch.

“Come,” You say gently, motioning your head over to the two by the fire.

The deep breath he lets out pulls rough from his vocoder, you can feel the trepidation in his body spilling into his lungs. He trails behind you and when you both reach them; you sit back down on the rock you were seated on before, but Mando chooses to stand instead.

“Has he…said anything? Do you…understand him?” He asks Ahsoka curiously, but with a hint of worry in his baritone.

“In a way. Grogu and I can read each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?” Mando’s voice is gentle but still low, and almost immediately, the Child’s ears perk up once again, and his little head jerks to face him, a gentle noise of glee escapes him.

“Yes,” Ahsoka says, smiling. “That’s his name, but you already knew that.”

“I—” He begins to say but Ahsoka cuts him off.

“No, not you. Her.”

Both Ahsoka and Mando’s head turn to you. Leg bouncing anxiously off the ground, your jaw slacks to answer, but not entirely sure how to answer. “Uh—Yeah, I mean he didn’t exactly tell me but he…kind of did?”

“What do you mean?” Mando presses you.

One of your hands rub the back of your neck and your eyes trail away from the two people staring you down to look at your feet. Clearing your throat, you answer uncertainly. “I…don’t know how he did it or how I was able to understand it.”

“Are you both still able to wield the Force?” Ahsoka asks curiously.

“The Force?” You repeat in confusion.

“You mean, his powers?” The Mandalorian chimes in.

“The Force is what gives him his powers. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It also allows us to communicate with each other.” She clarifies, somewhat answering your question but simultaneously confusing you even more. What the hell is ‘The Force’?

“You’re saying he used ‘The Force’ to communicate with me?”

“In a way, yes. We can communicate with others who are Force-sensitive, although it takes a great deal of training and discipline to wield it properly.”

Does this mean…?

Is she saying you’re…?

Force-sensitive?

Ahsoka sighs before addressing you again. “I sense a lot of conflict in you,”

“I’m just finding all of this very hard to believe,” You admit.

Ahsoka acknowledges your stunned expression with a gentle nod, before shifting the conversation towards the real issue—Grogu. Turning her eyes away from you, she now speaks to Mando. “Grogu was raised and trained by many Masters at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. At the end of the Clone Wars, when the Jedi were deemed traitors of the Republic, they were hunted down and killed. Grogu was smuggled out of the Temple beforehand, and has been forced to hide his abilities in order to survive over the years.”

Peeking over to observe Grogu, your heart aches. How could anyone want to harm him? He’s just a child, an innocent creature. “Do you know of anyone else like him?”

“I’ve only ever known one other being like this.” Her eyes trail off to gaze into the fire once again. “A wise Jedi Master named Yoda. I didn’t know others like him existed.”

“My task was to bring him to a Jedi. Can you train him?”

Ahsoka lets out a deep breath before answering. “The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

“So did the Empire, yet it still hunts us.” Your voice comes out more aggressive than you intended, but you’re desperate for answers.

Ahsoka looks down to the Child once again. His eyes flutter shut, exhaustion overcoming his little body until he all but bows his head to fall asleep. “Let him rest for now, I’ll test him in the morning.”

Mando’s helmet dips forward in agreement. He moves around the fire and makes his way over to Grogu and picks him up gingerly, holding him close to his cuirass and motioning his head in the direction of the Crest. Humming in response and rising to your own feet, you make to follow behind Mando back to ship when Ahsoka places a hand on your forearm.

“A moment?”

“Uh, sure,” You answer hesitantly. “I’ll meet you back at the ship.” You call over to Mando.

He huffs in response before walking away, Grogu fast asleep in his arms. Sitting back down, you wait for Ahsoka to speak.

“You’re troubled. I can sense it.”

Jaw dropping, you look for the words to accurately describe just how confused and in disbelief you are. Gesticulating around you, your voice is soft and low. “How—how is this possible?” A laugh escapes your lips. “I’m just a mecha—smuggler.” You catch yourself, the word barely leaving your lips. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her own lips form a tight line, as if she’s seen others react the same way. “It’s unclear how the Force works, and there’s no definitive way of explaining who has the gift and who hasn’t. We’re just…burdened with it.” Her eyes look down at the ground. It’s evident there’s some unresolved regret and sadness she’s been carrying for years, and you can’t help but wonder what could have possibly happened to her for her to feel this way.

“You said ‘I’m not a Jedi, not anymore’. What did you mean by that?”

She takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nose before speaking. “I left the order when I was young. It… wasn’t what I thought it was anymore.” Her voice trails off.

“What was it supposed to be? Who were the Jedi?” You don’t mean to ask so many questions, but there are so many pieces to this puzzle that you don’t understand yet. You’re supposedly predestined to be a Jedi, but you know nothing about them. Stories of the Jedi weren’t told to you when you were a child. It was treated more like a moment in history that no one wanted to speak of—like it was a stain on the galaxy that the majority of folks wanted to forget.

“We were trained to be keepers of the peace, but that all changed when the Clone Wars began. Jedi were suddenly soldiers and thrown into battle, required to fight for the Republic and keep the Separatists from expanding.”

“You fought?”

Ahsoka’s voice is low, like your question that thrown her back into the war, reliving all the pain from her youth. “I was just a Padawan when I joined the war effort. At first it was easy to say we were fighting to maintain the peace, but after a while, it almost felt like we became the ones raging the war. All of a sudden, the Order just didn’t feel like it once was…” She goes quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words to describe her conflicting feelings. “It changed.”

Your hand reaches out to hold hers. Once your skin touches her, immense pain overwhelms you. It’s haunting, a sudden hole fills your body with anger, regret, sadness. There’s a male voice, low and threatening, taunting her as he hisses.

Why did you leave?

You abandoned me!

Do you know what I’ve become?

Hand recoiling away, your left with the same empty feeling as her. It’s unnerving, experiencing something that hasn’t even happened to you yet somehow able to feel it so deeply, as if you know who this man is, but it gives you an insight as to just how tortured she must be feeling, and why she’s alone on this planet.

“Who…who was that?” Your voice is strained, shuddering out little breaths.

“Someone who meant a great deal to me.” Ahsoka’s face softens immediately, a somber smile develops on her lips, losing that hard, stoic demeanor she’s kept up in front of you and Mando. “An incredibly skilled Jedi Knight. He was my Master.”

“What happened to him?”

Ahsoka’s lungs fill with air, and she takes her time exhaling before answering you. “He fell to the Dark Side…” Her voice breaks up at the end, and clears her throat, giving the impression that she feels guilty about it, while also trying to regain control of her emotions.

Despite hearing the term ‘Dark Side’ for the first time, you almost instantaneously know what it is. The voice that creeps into your mind, the one that feeds off your anger and emotions, the one that scratches the inside of your brain, hissing to cause harm and feed the deepest parts of yourself that you despise. It all makes sense now.

“I sense it within you.” Her voice barely above a whisper, but clear enough to make your skin crawl. It’s a truth you didn’t know you had been dreading to hear. A truth you yourself had tried to ignore. The part of you that you hated most, finally being noticed by a complete stranger, it triggers something deep inside you, almost confirming your worst fears. You’re a danger, not only to yourself but to anyone around you. It’s suddenly as clear as day why you’ve tried to keep your distance from those you loved ever since your parents’ death. Why you never allowed yourself the luxury of attachments or love. Somehow, you knew that in order to keep yourself and others safe, you needed to put a barrier up, a wall to stop yourself from hurting others.

“I…don’t know how to control it.” Desperation in your voice, it becomes obvious that you’re both struggling to find solace.

“You should get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” Attempting to put you somewhat at ease, she offers you a smile, although her eyes show you anything but contentment. There’s a sadness in them, like she already knows your fate but is unsure of the proper way of confessing it to you.

Nodding your head slowly, you push yourself to your feet and make a beeline for the Crest. Ahsoka stands, watching you drag your feet back to the ship, then disappears through the fog, and back into the forest.

When you reach the back ramp of the ship, the lights are dimmed to the lowest setting, your legs almost collapsing once you reach the hull from all the trekking throughout the day. Leaning over to the side of the ramp, you press a button on the board by the door and the ramp creaks shut.

The Crest is deafeningly quiet. As you make your way deeper into the ship, you observe Grogu sleeping soundly in his little hammock inside Mando’s bunk. Making sure not to make too much noise on the ladder, you gently head up to the cockpit and find Mando sitting in the pilot’s chair, unsure if he’s sleeping or simply sitting there like a statue which you’ve noticed he’s does from time to time. Upon entering the cockpit, you sigh a little loudly, testing to see if he’s awake.

Practically falling into your seat, you know you should get some sleep, but the mental exhaustion is almost too intense, you can’t seem to get your mind off everything that’s happened. Continuously mulling over what Ahsoka’s said, noting how it makes perfect sense, but not wanting to accept it.

“Are you…all right?” Mando asks you timidly, the deepness of his tone cutting through the low hum of the dimmed lights.

The question bounces around in your mind.

Are you all right?

Just under a couple of hours ago, you had never even heard of ‘The Force’, let alone supposedly have a connection to this intangible entity. Of course, there are things that you’ve done that you couldn’t logically explain, but does that necessarily mean you suddenly have some greater purpose? That you’re this…peacekeeper with an obligation to protect others?

Did your parents know?

Did they keep this a secret from you in order to protect you or were they just as in the dark as you were about this?

Everything you thought you knew about yourself is once again being challenged.

Mechanic.

Smuggler.

Quarry.

Jedi?

How are you supposed to navigate through this? Ahsoka said herself the Jedi were basically wiped out right as the Empire rose to power. What does that mean for you? Is the Empire hunting you down because you’re ‘force-sensitive’?

Certainly, it would be easier to simply put this all behind you. Help Mando with Grogu and then go your separate ways, ignoring what Ahsoka’s told you about being connected to The Force.

Do what you must in order to stay alive.

Keep to yourself just as you’ve always done, and survive.  

But…is that the right thing to do? How does one know if the path they’re on is the correct one? It’s not like there’s someone all knowing that you can ask, or seek help from. The only thing you can do is trust your own instincts, go over each possibility and examine them meticulously, and pray to the Maker that you’ll be drawn to one option more than another.

Remembering that Mando’s just asked you a question but not remembering exactly what it was, you hum in your throat. “Hmm?”

Mando swivels his chair around to face you. “Are you all right?”

“It’s funny how we can here for the kid, and now I’m the one having some kind of existential crisis.” Your tone is wry, the ability to mock yourself never waving.

“Yeah.” He answers coolly, probably just because he doesn’t know what else to say. Mando’s not really one to comfort or coddle, unless it’s Grogu but that doesn’t bother you so much. Mando is the way he is, and you wouldn’t change a thing about him.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re rising to your feet, word vomit expelling from your lips.

“I’ve lived my whole life not knowing where I belong. Navigating through various routes, trying to find my purpose and what I’m supposed to be doing, and I was fine with smuggling. I know it wasn’t honorable or strictly legal, but it made me feel better about my place in the galaxy. It felt better than being a mechanic on some rotten planet because at least I was seeing what the galaxy had to offer me, right? But it still couldn’t fill this empty pit I felt in my stomach.” Your breathing is erratic, chest pumping in and out as your heartbeat races.

“And I dealt with that. I did things I regretted but I never allowed myself to dwell on those things because I knew what I had to do in order to survive. Then out of nowhere I’m being hunted by what I thought was the New Republic but oh no surprise!” Your voice becoming almost hysterical, empty laughs punching out of you through jagged breaths. “It’s actually the Empire! Because I now apparently have some connection to an entity that exists in a form that I don’t even understand and have never heard of.

“All the while, I have this voice inside my head that fucking eats away at me. ‘Do this’ and ‘Make them feel pain’, ‘Hurt them like they hurt you’. It’s fucking gnawing at my brain, and I have no fucking idea how to control it or get it to stop. I feel like a monster, like some evil being that will one day just explode and hurt anyone in my path, and it fucking terrifies me because I can’t control it. I can’t fucking control it, Mando.” Your voice is hoarse, speaking so fast your lungs can’t keep up with you, only allowing yourself quick breaths as you begin to feel yourself hyperventilate.

Mando rises to his feet ever so slowly, visor glued to you as you continue to explode.

“What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to follow down the path of being a Jedi despite not knowing a single fucking thing about them? You heard what Ahsoka said about them. They were almost all wiped out.”

Your hands fly to your face, squeezing your eyes shut so hard, you’re seeing stars, and rubbing the heels of your palms into your skin. Completely overwhelmed by everything, you just want to disappear.

Then, you feel rough, sturdy gloves wrap around your wrists, and gently pulling at them, freeing your hands away from your face. When you finally open your eyes, all you see is Mando’s helmet, the ‘T’ of his visor looking down at you. He doesn’t let go of your wrists, just continues to hold them gingerly, even pulling them towards his chest. You take a step towards him, standing merely inches away from each other. He says nothing, but truthfully, he doesn’t need to. Holding you steady is all he needs to do in order to calm you down. Your breathing is slowly starting to regulate itself, even though your mind is still shouting at you.

Hearing a soft exhale emit through the helmet, Mando speaks quietly and softly. “You’re not a monster.”

“But—”

“We’ve all done things we regret.” He tells you softly. “What matters is that you regret it, which means you’re not a monster, because they don’t regret anything they’ve done.”

Your head dips downward, letting out a deep breath through slightly parted lips, as you begin shaking your head. “What if I hurt you or the kid one day?”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know—”

“I do,” He says firmly, leaving you no more room to argue.

When you finally look up into the black eye slit of his helmet, you wish you were looking into his eyes. To see him looking back at you would be a blessing right now, but you know better than to ask him to take it off. You don’t know much about Mandalorians, but from the one you do know, he never takes his helmet off, and you wouldn’t dare ask him to break his creed just for you. So, this will have to do.

“Get some sleep.” He says then releases your wrists, letting them fall to your sides.

“I’m not tired,” You mumble.

“Yes, you are.” He argues. “Use the cot downstairs.”

“But that’s where you sleep.”

He turns away from you, sitting back in the pilot’s chair and swiveling it around so you’re facing the back of the seat. “I’ll sleep here. Now, go.”

He leaves no room for argument, and honestly? Finally being able to sleep lying down and not sitting upright in a chair does sound amazing. You head down the ladder without another word, feeling the sudden exhaustion hit you hard. Grogu’s still sound asleep in his hammock, and you wiggle into the tiny sleeping space, being mindful not to touch the hammock or make too much noise that might wake him up, gently pressing on the button on the panel near the door and hearing it woosh shut. Your nostrils fill up instantly with Mando’s smell. Notes of beskar, musk, and his soap fill your sinuses and you take a deep, burning breath, trying to inhale as much Mando as you can in one breath. The voices in your head are still chattering away, but being bundled up in Mando’s blanket and his smell is enough for you to push those noises away and fall asleep to the sound of the Child’s gentle snores.

--

Grogu’s training begins in the early morning. You’re all gathered around the same place you were last night, but there’s definitely more tension than there was the night before. For starters, you basically had a mental breakdown in front of Mando last night, and you’re feeling pretty guilty and embarrassed about it. You should have been able to keep your emotions in check and under control, but instead you blew up in front of the one person you didn’t want to blow up in front of.

Secondly, today you’ll all be seeing Grogu’s abilities firsthand, and find out just how much training he’s had and what he’s fully capable of doing, and it’s pretty easy to tell that Mando is nervous. The way he carries himself; back tense and his hands balled into fists at his sides, shifting uncomfortably as he watches Grogu stand on a rock just a few feet away from Ahsoka. You’re standing to his right, nerves and curiosity radiating off your skin.

“Let’s see what knowledge is lurking in that little mind of yours, shall we?” She says to Grogu before turning her head to you both. Clearing your throat, you nod in acknowledgement while Mando stays stiff as a board.

She reaches down and picks up a small stone off the ground and holds it out in front of her chest. Looking down at the rock and watching her eyes squint, it suddenly lifts out of her palm and stays in limbo for a moment before she uses her hand to push it towards Grogu. It flows over so slowly in his direction, his little arms reaching out and grabbing it with both hands. You stand there, completely stunned, eyes wide-shot and jaw practically hanging. It’s something you’ve been able to do as well, but only during bouts of anger or in the middle of a fight.  

“Now, return the stone to me, Grogu,” She instructs, her voice gentle but commanding all the same.

His head tilts to the side, continuing to hold it firmly with his claws.

“He doesn’t understand what you’re saying,” Mando blurts out.

“He does.” She reassures him, holding her hand out and gently coaxing Grogu once again to hand her the rock. “The stone, Grogu.”

The Child gurgles, then drops the stone in a chuff of defeat. A drawn-out sigh releases from Mando’s helmet, somewhat irritable, but not fully angry.

Ahsoka approaches Grogu, leaning down to pick up the stone he’s dropped and taking his tiny hand in hers. Her head dips forward and whispers, “I sense much fear in you, little one.”

Grogu coos in response, his big eyes blinking slowly. She flashes him a kind smile and takes a couple steps back, cocking her head to one side as she ponders her next move. Ahsoka’s eyes meet yours for a second and just when they meet, it’s almost like you both come up with the same idea. Grogu needs a different kind of enticement, a more personal incentive.

“Let’s try something else,” She says. “Come here.”

Mando looks over to the Child and motions with his head for him walk over to meet Ahsoka. When he looks over to the Mandalorian with a puzzled look, Mando sighs again. “He’s stubborn.”

Unable to hide the smile on your face, you shake your head just as Ahsoka lips curl upwards. “Not him, you.” She says, looking at him.

Mando hesitates at first, so you grab hold of his forearm and almost usher him in Ahsoka’s direction. “I want to see if he’ll listen to you,” She says curiously.

Mando scoffs, and the sound comes out scratchy and low through the vocoder. “That would be a first.”

Handing Mando the stone, she instructs him to hold it in his palm, open faced and tell Grogu to lift and take the rock. He stands there awkwardly, shifting a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but in an endearing way. You smile from ear to ear, watching Mando be so confused but approaching this in a gentle way that you know almost no one has been privy to witnessing. It tugs at your heartstrings, observing father and son.

He lets out a deep breath before following Ahsoka’s direction. “Okay, kid. Lift the stone.”

“Grogu,” You clarify, still smiling.

He whips his head to face you then back to the Child.

“Grogu,”

The Child’s ears perk up instantly hearing Mando’s voice call him, cooing excitedly. “Take the stone.”

Looking at the rock, Grogu babbles and then looks at the ground defeatedly.

“See?” Throwing the stone on the ground in annoyance, Mando looks over to where you and Ahsoka are standing. “I told you, he’s stubborn.”

You and Ahsoka turn heads to look at each other, knowing damn well it’s not because the kid is stubborn, but because Mando is stubborn. Keeping an emotional type of distance between him and every person in the galaxy, never allowing himself to make a meaningful connection.

“Try to connect with him,” Ahsoka chimes.

Mando studies Grogu, possibly trying to gauge a reaction or an insight as to what he wants. His gloved hands come up to grasp onto his utility belt and then you notice him fiddle with his belt and flesh out the metal knob from the lever of the Crest. Both you and Mando know just how much that durasteel ball means to Grogu, and if there’s one thing in this galaxy that the kid absolutely loves and wants at all times, it’s that ball.

Sure enough, as soon as he sees Mando with the ball in his hand, his ears perk up immediately and giggles of joy rush out of him. Mando bends his knees, crouching down so that he’s at eye level with him, holding the ball between his fingers, enticing the downright giddy baby just a few feet away from him.

“Grogu,” His tone is playful, and it shocks you. He’s never spoken that way around you. Mando has a monotone way of speaking, maintaining a level tone, or an annoyed tone. Never speaking in a playful or humorous manner. To see him show this kind of vulnerability must be hard for him, especially in front of Ahsoka who he’s known for half a day, but Mando knows this isn’t about him, this is for Grogu, and he’ll do whatever it takes for the kid.

“Do you want this?”

The Child fixates on the ball, arms reaching out in front of him, almost begging for it, but Mando continues to tempt him, speaking low but tender, as he urges Grogu to take it. “Well, go ahead. Go on, take it. You can do it.”

Maker, it takes everything in you not to scream. The way Mando continues to coax him, the way Grogu coos and looks at him so lovingly, it’s enough to break hearts. A relationship borne of hunter and quarry turned father and son. Something so rare, so genuine. To think that these two beings don’t even speak the same language yet have an attachment so fierce and pure.

Eyes squinting in concentration, Grogu’s hand reaches out just a little further and then the ball flies from Mando’s hand right into the Child’s little grip.

“Good job!” Mando exclaims, pure joy and full of proudness. Your mouth falls into a toothy grin as you watch him approach the Child and continue to affirm how proud he is. Looking over at Ahsoka and expecting to see her smiling, your face quickly changes when you take notice of her expression. She’s looking down at the ground, not a speck of joy on her face. In fact, she looks defeated, like she’s just witnessed something awful. Eyebrows pulling together, you give her a nudge with your elbow, asking what’s wrong without actually asking what’s wrong.

“I knew you could do it. Very good,” Mando continues to praise.

“He’s formed a strong attachment to you,” She says before her lips press into a thin line.

“Is that a bad thing?” You question. Taking a step towards Mando and away from Ahsoka, and crossing your arms against your chest, your head cocks to one side waiting for her to explain.

“I cannot train him.”

“What?” Mando straightens out immediately and turns his body to face her. “You’ve seen what he can do, right?” He asks curtly, a hint of underlying anger in his vibrato.

“His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears—his anger.”

“All the more reason to train him.”

“No,” She grits out through her teeth. “I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a person. What it can do to even the best of the Jedi Knights. I will not start this child on that path. Better to let his abilities fade.”

You take a step back; a sneer escapes your lips as you try to understand what the hell she’s saying. “Let his abilities fade? Look at him. You can’t just give up on him.”

She looks down at Grogu who’s too busy examining the ball in his hands to notice the three of you arguing. Giving you both a quick glance, Ahsoka shakes her head. “I’ve delayed too long. I must head back to the village.” She turns on her heel and begins walking away from you two when Mando gets her attention.

“The Magistrate’s asked me to kill you.”

Ahsoka freezes, turning her body slowly towards you, hands making their way to the weapons strapped around her waist.

“I didn’t agree to anything.” Mando clarifies.

Uncrossing your arms, you take a tentative step towards her. “We’ll help you free the village, but at the very least, Grogu,” You point a finger in Grogu’s general direction, “needs training.”

She clamps down on her jaw, eyebrows knitting together as she mulls over the proposition.

“Fine, but we hit the city tonight.”

-------

I hope y'all liked the way I wrote ahsoka...I completely ignored how she looked in the mandalorian and based her appearance off the “Overlords” ep of tcw and changed the way her character was because I wasn't really a fan of how she was written. 

[ellana-ravenwood]

Three parts of a whole - Batman x Reader x Superman (Erotica)

Summary : The Batman, Superman and You are in a polyamory relationship, and it couldn’t be better. Well...Maybe it could.

I wrote this in twenty five minutes, and FUCK it’s a long story...Anyway, hope you’ll like it, I’m going to hide in a cave now :s :

IMPORTANT WARNING : THIS IS EROTICA ! THIS IS NOT FOR YOU IF YOU ARE UNDERAGED, I GODDAMN MEAN IT. Like there’s cute and sweet feelings in the mix, but also...smut, so if you’re not 18 or more, or if you’re not comfortable with that sort of things etc etc, this story ain’t for you. I have tons of other very SFW story, for averyone to read, and if you wanna check those out instead, it’s right here, on My masterlist blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives.

__________________________________________________

“What’s normal to the spider is chaos to the fly” was a line in one of your favorite TV show, The Addams Family.

And oh it kinda ruled your entire life !

You knew ever since you were three, and attending your first day of school, when you realized not everyone had two dads (some had what they called “moms” !) that what people called “normal”, would never fit you.

And oh as you grow up that fact only became more and more obvious.

It didn’t help either, that so many people would point out your differences constantly, like your two gay dads, your little birthmark that went from your forehead and over your eyes, your obsession with some unconventional things, the fact that you were a “nerd” etc etc...Oh everyone always made so many comments about how weird and different you were !

Everyone...but them. They never judge. Hell, they even understood. Because they weren’t “normal” either.

Come to think of it, it was probably what made you fall for them. Fall for them, hard. You smile at the memory of when you met them when a sound brings you back to reality. A rather obscene sound really...

Right. This is what sprout your mind thinking about how you weren’t “normal” compare to most people. What was happening right now.

You smile at the source of the sound, shaking your head slightly, and kiss it on the lips. Kiss him.

Clark Kent aka Superman, one of the love of your life, with whom you were talking about the Batman’s “O” face. Totally normal right ?”

Your kiss unfocused him from imitating Bruce’s orgasm face (and sound) and he tries to catch your mouth back with his, his tongue darting out of his lips, but you escape his grasp, crawling to the other side of the couch.

He pouts like a child at the loss of your warmth..it was so comfortable and cosy, to have you snuggled against him !

You wink at him and he melts a bit, but before he can chase after you or anything of the like, you say :

-I’m sorry Clark, but his “o” face isn’t quite like that. It’s more like...

You scrunch up your nose a little bit and clench your jaw tight...before rolling your eyes to the back of your skull, scrunching up your nose even more, and opening your mouth to let out a guttural and very unlady like growl of pleasure.

Clark was intently looking at you, from his side of the couch, and, clearly, was on the verge of bursting into tears of laughter.

-Hahahahaha yes ! Yes that’s it ! Even the little sexy groan !

You both start to laugh and imitate the mighty Batman’s face when he has an orgasm and...you don’t really know why it’s so funny really. Maybe it’s the fact that the two of you know him in another light than his usually so stoic and emotionless self ? You don’t really know...but it’s damn hilarious ! (And a bit sexy).

Clark high fives you after your amazing and so truthful to the original performance, and...it’s like you both can’t help it. As if all it takes is a single touch of each others’ skin and...

The high five never really stops, as Clark tangles his fingers with yours and pulls you on top of him.

Your lips connect instantly, as his free hand goes to settle on the small of your back and yours go flying around his shoulders. As often between the two of you, it turns heated, as his tongue brush your lips and you grant him access to your mouth.

The hand that’s on the small of your back creep under your shirt and slowly removes it, as you unbutto...

-I know it has been two months since you two last saw each others, but you could have waited for me...

You tear yourself off of Clark and turn your head to the side to see the other love of your life...Bruce Wayne, aka Batman.

There was a reason, you and Clark knew his “o” face so well.

And that reason was another proof your life wasn’t situated anywhere on the “normal” spectrum.

************

You met them thanks to Diana. She’s the one who found you. Gods bless her.

She saved you, and for that, she would always hold a special place in your heart. She quickly became like a sister to you. And everything started the day...The day...

Your life went completely South a Saturday.

It started off boringly fine and normal.

You woke up early to go to college, took breakfast with your dads, laughing at their silly antics (you always loved, how they would argue with each others over everything, and yet always seemed so fucking in love while doing so), and after kissing them goodbye went to catch your bus...You never got it.

You really were cursed to never live a normal life. Usually, this would have never bothered you but that day ? ...Oh that day.

Those loving “kisses good bye” on your fathers’ cheeks ? ...They were forever.

You’d never kiss their cheeks ever again. They’d never hold you, hug you during tough times. Reassure you that life would get better, and that being abnormal wasn’t so bad. You’d never see them again exchange loving looks, you’d never think : “I want a relationship just like theirs !” again while looking over them you’d never...you’d never see them again.

At least, they were gone together. Your beloved parents...tears always well up in your eyes when you think about them, and about that day.

An explosion. Not even from a super-villain or anything. No. The local gaz factory exploded, and wiped your entire little hometown.

And that’s when Diana found you.

Death and destruction was surrounding the demigoddess, and Wonder Woman was starting to loose hope of ever finding a survivor when...

Your screams. It’s your screams she heard. Of agony. But not as in you were hurt physically and were dying no...it’s your heart that was crying.

She found you, digging the remnant of your house, screaming “dad ! daaaaad !!” over and over again as the fire surrounding you seem to not harm you.

However, the crumbled wall of your house slowly falling in your direction would crush you, and on that day, you probably wish it had because..you just had lost your parents. The only one that ever understood you, and acted as if not being “normal” was the norm. The only one that never judged your weird taste (not even the fact that you’d eat pickles with peanut-butter) and antics. The only two persons you ever loved and...they were gone.

Just like that.

Because of a stupid accident.

The wall was falling when you turned to look at it, not even trying to get out of its way and...that’s when Diana found you. And saved you.

You didn’t seem hurt, but she took you to the hospital nonetheless and...never left your side. She stayed, even though she had things to do.

She stayed with you until you finally snapped out of your strange haze, of the shock of loosing your parents and then...Then she was there, to hold you in her arms, to let you soak her shirt with your tears.

That day, Diana Prince became one of the most precious being in your life and, thanks to her, you’d meet “the ones”.

************

It was obvious you were a meta-human.

Your entire town exploded, there were no survivors but...you, whose only wound was of the heart. Physically ? You were completely unscathed, except for a few bruises and cuts you got searching for the bodies of your parents in the ruins of your house.

Fireproof. And possibly invulnerable (Diana saved you from a heavy wall who could have crushed you and...you weren’t really up to try exactly the extend of your powers by letting anyone or anything trying to crush you !).

It was clear that you had no one else in your life, that this explosion took everything from you so...Diana did the only thing she could do. The only thing she had to do.

She brought you to the League.

And that’s when you met them.

Bruce and Clark.

Clark and Bruce.

The loves of your life.

************

You first met Clark, and it was like a huge firework.

Diana introduced you to him, and when your hands touched, already at that moment, way before anything started to happen between the two of you, the skin to skin contact was...something. Electrifying.

He smiled, and your heart beat wildly. In that instant, you almost forgot your dads...because Clark was a bright light and oh you wanted to just snuggle in his strong and safe arms, forever.

It was ridiculous, you knew it. But never ever in your life did you felt that kind of intensity when first meeting something. Never before in your life did you felt anything like that toward anyone really. “Love” and “relationships” weren’t really your thing...And here you were, swooning over a stranger.

A very handsome stranger, and oh just in his eyes, you could also see how sweet and nice he was.

You smiled to Clark and he felt like dying. How could someone be that beautiful ? That attractive ? He just couldn’t quite explain what it was he liked so much about you, what drawn him to you instantly...He just was.

Here you were, in front of him, and while Diana was talking about the circumstances of why you were here, and how horrible the all ordeal was...Clark couldn’t help but smile like an idiot at you, and damn it it was so awkward how he held your hand for so long !

But your skin on his...he wanted more.

And he felt disgusting for that. He felt like he was being such a pig for those thoughts but...You were just so different from anyone he met.

He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, that made you so special. But you were. You really were quite something. For a second, he thought maybe you were a meta-human able to control people’s feelings but...No. No that wasn’t it, and he knew. You were just...Abnormal. In the best of ways. In a way that made him feel relate to you, understand you instantly, without even knowing your name (a few seconds more and he would know. (Y/N), and oh it fitted you so well..).

Finally, he let go of your hand, and you don’t seem that weirded out by him and his odd and long handshake. No. You smile. And your smile is pure torture. Because he’s realizing that...oh he’s totally doomed.

Your arrival put him in a totally impossible situation.

His sudden...Whatever this was he felt toward you, a total stranger (attraction ? friendship ? love ?), was only trouble. Especially since it changed nothing of the fact that...He was in love. Not with you. Or maybe with you too ? How was that even possible ?! This was so absurd !

It made everything more complicated. No. He wasn’t in love with you, it was just a little phase he was going through because you were beautiful.

No. No no no. He wasn’t...in...love with you...He loved...He loves Bruce.

He couldn’t love you. Hell, he didn’t even know you !!

Unaware of the man you just met’s internal struggle (just because he touched your hand !!), you shyly smiled before bidding him farewell and following Diana to be introduced to the others.

Oh but everyone was so plain and normal (yes, even the martian), compare to that “Superman” you met earlier...Everyone. Everyone but him.

************

A few hours after your encounter with Clark, you met Bruce.

He was focused on a huge computer screen, typing away on the keyboard things that seem very random to you but apparently made sense to him.

You had a sudden surge of wanting to slap the man, as he completely ignored Diana but...but when she talks about your parents (in the most sensitive way as you’re standing right there), the man finally turns and...

With Clark, it was fire, it was light, it was a strange and unexplainable attraction.

With Bruce ? It was an instant understanding. You bore into his icy blue eyes and it mirrored your pain of loosing your parents. You shook his gloved hand and the little squeeze he gave it was proof enough that he...understood.

With Bruce, there was no smiles. It wasn’t warm and cosy like Clark, and yet you felt...you felt good.

In front of you stood a man who understood your pain. Who, when he said “I know”, really did know. Who had suffered, even more than you, and who...would always be here for you because of this.

It sounded so stupid. You didn’t even know the guy. And yet...And yet his intense eyes seemed to read into you, and to speak to your very soul.  

When Bruce heard about your parents, he turned to look at you, because yes, he knew the pain. But he wasn’t expecting to be faced with...with...with you.

He wasn’t expecting to not be able to find his words because your mere presence overwhelmed him. Because you were mesmerizing. Because...He hated not understanding.

He understood you, and you understood him but...he didn’t understand what was so special about you, what drew him so irrevocably to you, what made him want to actually talk to you.

The only other person able to make him talk, the only other one he wanted to talk to and to be with...It was Clark. And the wave of feelings that submerged Bruce as he was looking at you made him feel so guilty.

How could he ? How could he think about you so intensely while he didn’t even know you ? How could he look at your lips and want them so much ? How could he...how could he betray Clark’s trust ?

And yet here he was, talking to you more than he talked to anyone in a few days, under Diana’s surprised gaze. And when you left, following the amazon to visit the rest of the headquarter, the only thing he wanted to do was to follow you...And the guilt washed over him once again.

How could he ? He was in love with Clark. He knew that. And Clark was in love with him. So why...and how...he didn’t even know you for God’s sake !!

************

Both Bruce and Clark didn't speak much that coming week. They couldn’t. And today, as Bruce went home to his mansion in Gotham, and Clark sneaked into his bedroom, they still didn’t speak.

The usually always so passionate sex wasn’t really that great, and they just laid there, side by side, battling with their thoughts.

What could they do ? Should they break up with each others ? But...they were still in love.

Should they just ignore what they suddenly both felt about you ? But that was impossible. Clark saw you earlier that day, laughing at one of Barry’s joke, and it made his heart swell with happiness, to hear such a clear and pure thing...Bruce saw you before he left for Gotham, and you smiled at him. You just smiled at him and that mere action made his heart jump out of his chest.

No. They couldn’t just ignore you. It was actually getting increasingly difficult to ignore you. But then...what to do ?

They started to speak at the same time. They said the exact same thing.

-Bruce/Clark, you know (Y/N), the woman Diana brought last week...

************

It was just your luck. For fuck’s sake. You met two absolutely incredible men, that you learned to know a bit more over the week, that made you want them even more and...they were gay.

Of course they were. And together at that, if the rumors were true. And oh the way they looked at each others when they thought no one was watching...Yup, no doubt, those two were in love.

You sigh as you sip your tea, in the League common room.

Diana bringing you here was the best thing she could have done. The constant missions and things to do got your mind away from your dads. The new people you met and all of that stop you from thinking about your loss...But sometimes, like today, when you were alone with your thoughts, it would come back.

You buried them a few days ago. You invited their friends (they were loved by so many, and oh your gay “uncles” and “aunts” were plenty), not even bothering inviting their actual family, that both disowned your dads for being gay. They hated them, why would you even tell them what happened ?

Your true family, your dads friends that you called “uncle” and “aunt” forever, were a great support but...You didn’t stay long. After the funerals you left directly to your new family’s place, the League’s headquarter, where everyone seemed to...Everything seemed to...It just felt like home. In just a short few days.

You saw Clark and Bruce that day, but didn’t have the heart to talk to them or anything...in fact, you haven’t talked to any of them since that day. You could see them looking at you from afar but...You just couldn’t.

Your parents were gone, your support was gone, and now, you had fallen in love with TWO men who were gay and together. You don’t think your heart could handle it.

And oh it was so stupid that you fell for them that fast and hard ! What was so special about them ?! What made them so different ?!

“Everything”, said a voice at the back of your head. And you...

Two shadows coming over you tore you away from your thoughts. You almost dropped your tea as you saw who it was.

Of course. Clark and Bruce.

The entire room was empty and they were blocking any exits you could take and...their next words freeze you :

-So hum...this might sound weird, but can we talk to you ?

************

Most people thought that love triangles were full of dramas and pain. Of angst and suffering. Most people thought it was just about always wondering who loved more who, who was the most important one out of the three, and all of those bullshit.

The truth was, most people had no idea what an actual polyamory relationship was. Most people thought it wasn’t normal and impossible to fall in love with more than one person ? And yet...And yet you, Clark and Bruce were the proof that it was.

Because that’s what happened. They were both struck by “love at the first sight” with you, and you with them and...Hey, they also loved each other. It wasn’t a “I love you more than he does” or any shit like that situation. It was a “we all love each other” kind of one.

It wasn’t complicated really, to understand. You all loved each others equally. And instead of living miserable by being only in a two person relationship, and ignoring one of the one you loved...well you decided to be a bit more open and share your love between those two men, and them between...IT REALLY WASN’T THAT COMPLICATED !

That day, when they said they had to talk to you, they lost themselves in complicated words and explanations, when everything was quite simple really. And after a few dates, the three of you figured things out...Because it wasn’t, actually complicated.

It was love. Shared love. Between the three of you. Strong and unbreakable love. You were each others’ loves of your lives. As simple as that.

If an eight years old boy like Dick could understand, then everyone could really.

After a few years, news stopped asking questions about “Bruce Wayne’s weird love life” and...to be honest, you and Clark were sure that this started to be a normal thing only because he was Bruce Wayne. And in Gotham ? Bruce Wayne was like royalty.

And just the fact that a man like him would act as if nothing was strange, holding you with one arm and Clark with the other. If a man like that could act like it was the most normal thing in the World to have two dates at important charity events...then really, who was to say it was weird ?

After a few years, people just started to accept it. And if some still thought it was odd, you never really heard about it anymore.

You lived in Gotham, in Wayne Manor (Gods bless Clark’s ability to travel fast, because you’re pretty sure you couldn’t handle being too far from them too long). It was just the most logical thing.

Clark would go to Metropolis every morning, and come back every night, and...yes, it was just the most logical thing to do. Bruce’s house was bigger than Clark’s apartment was and, with six teenaged boys...

It’s interesting, how when a child grew up a certain way, things are totally normal for them. Like you with your two gay dads, or your sons, with two dads and a mom.

Dick, Conner, Jason, Tim, Jon and Damian.

It wasn’t always easy having that many kids under the same roof, especially those ones...Dick, Jason and Tim were adopted (which didn’t matter, they were your sons nonetheless). Conner was Clark’s clone and though it was difficult at first...you and Bruce convinced him to accept the boy as his own. Damian was technically only Bruce’s son, that he had a few years before dating Clark and you, with Talia Al’Ghul...but it didn’t change anything. He was yours. He was Clark’s. He was your son. Finally, Jon was the only biological kid you had (and the actual father was most likely Clark, given the boy’s powers).

But just like between you, Bruce and Clark there wasn’t any preferences, you all loved each other the same...You all loved your sons the same. No matter where they came from.

Yes. It was quite a bunch you had...but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Normal is overrated anyway, having flying sons jumping around the house while the others do acrobatics in the stairs was the only way you knew. The only way you wanted your family to be.

Having two husbands dressing up to fight crimes ? Perfect.

Oh and what would you do without your favorite sassy butler who was just too in love with this all thing ?

Yup. Life was great. And completely normal.

************

And here you were, almost fifteen years after Bruce and Clark had to “talk to you”, splayed on one of your husband, kissing him passionately, as the other arrived and smiled at the sight of you two tangle in each other.

-I know it has been two months since you two saw each others, but you could have waited for me...

His voice startled you, and you turn your head quickly to look at him. Your smile widens and, after giving a last kiss to Clark you jump on your feet and run to Bruce.

He greets you with open arms, as usual, and the kiss you exchange is as full of love and passion as the one you were just sharing with Clark.

You all have an excuse so, to be so disgustingly in need of each others.

A few months earlier, you got injured in a League mission and had to stay in the mansion to take it easy, as your husbands went to lead one of the biggest fight of their life, against the forces of Apokolips.

It drove you crazy, to not be able to go with them. To be stuck home, helpless. The only good thing about all of that is that your sons, who were now all grown up and living away in their own apartment (Damian and Jon shared one in Central Gotham, according to Alfred, you should NEVER put a feet in their or you’d get a heart attack about how your boys were living...), came to the Manor to take care of you, getting back in their old and untouched rooms.

It was nice, to have them back with you, just like when they were kids...But the constant worry about your husbands never left any of you.

You couldn’t loose them, and they couldn’t loose their dads...

Finally, after days of fighting you got a message from Diana.

Your sons ran away from the house, knowing that as soon as their fathers would be home you'd all get lovey dovey and disgusting. You gave Alfred, who took great care of you, his day off and...the house was all your own.

Clark arrived first, as Bruce had a few things to finish up, and oh the hug of relief you shared was one of the best one ever.

You were so damn worried for his life...and here he was, safe and sound.

You were waiting on the couch when Bruce finally arrived too. And boom. Here’s your excuse for being so damn demanding and clingy to both of them, kissing them passionately and all.

You tear yourself off of Bruce, and turn to look at Clark who came to join you.

Your two giants of husbands sandwich you and oh...oh it feels like home. There. In their arms. Their, in the men who never judged you ONCE arms. In the loves of your life arms. In the middle of them...as it should be.

Clark kisses Bruce, and of course the bat kisses back, though with less passion than with you. Some people would say it’s because your their favorite, because it’s “impossible to be in love with two people”...but some people would be idiots that do not know that Clark and Bruce were together those past two months, while you were stuck away from them, and that they had each others while you were alone. And oh, oh they missed you.

Realizing that they might crush you between their bodies, they pull away, and you look at both of them, your heart, even after all those years, still beating so wildly for them...

But they know that mischievous smile splaying on your face. They know what it means. And how something in their pants twitch with anticipation.

************

They were the lucky ones. For two months, they had each others. They could touch each others, hug, kiss, make love...you, you were alone every night. Sure you had the opportunity to spend some times with your six boys but...it obviously wasn’t the same.

And so tonight ? It would be more about you than about them. Because you deserved it. Because they missed you. Because it was only fair.

The three of you stumbled in the master bedroom (your bed was a double king sized, made specifically for the three of you by a designer in Gotham...it was so big not because you were three, but because Clark would always sleep with his arms and legs opened, leaving you and Bruce a small part of the bed, snuggled against each others).

Bruce was lifting your shirt, while Clark was lifting Bruce’s shirt and you were lifting Clark’s shirt and...yeah that wasn’t going to work, the three of you let go of each other, amazed that after years of practice, it would still be so damn difficult to undress each others.

They decide to focus on you, and so Bruce lifts your shirt as Clark gets rids of your pants in one swift moves, lifting you so he can take them off completely.

While Bruce peppers your neck with hundred of kisses, Clark takes care of your bra and panties, kissing all the exposed skin available to him. He slowly kneels and...you stop him, shaking your head.

As much as you’d love for him to eat you out, you missed them too much, you just need to feel them inside of you. Now.

Clark nods, as always he understands. You guys were all so good to understand each other’s needs...Bruce nods too and takes hold of you.

You wrap your legs around Bruce’s waist and you know EXACTLY where this is going. When Clark walks around the bed and climbs on it, sitting on his heels, you know you’re right.

It’s like you all understand each other perfectly well, without even the need to speak.

Bruce throws you on the bed playfully and you get on your knees, as your other husband climb on the bed, each one on each sides of you now.

You gently caress their abs as they reach for each others and kiss fiercely above you. You always loved their toned chest and muscular shoulders. They were so nice to feel under your fingers...

For a few seconds, your lost in caressing every line of their torso, as they kiss above you, tongue twisting around tongue. But them tearing away from each other brings your attention back to their face and...oh ? Your turn then ?

You raise on your legs to reach them, as they’re quite taller than you, and start to kiss Clark. He tastes like Bruce. You wrap your arms around his neck and brings him impossibly closer, until you feel the bat’s fingers brushing your back and you decide it’s his turns. You pull away from Clark, and turn to kiss Bruce.

He tastes like Clark. The Superman plants soft kisses all along the column of your neck to your back, making you shiver, as your tongue wrestles with Bruce’s. You are now completely sandwiched between Clark naked body, and Bruce’s, still clothed and...still clothed ? Oh that would do.

You pull away from your broody husband and push yourself back against the chest of your a bit naive one, grinding a bit against his cock on purpose (acting as if it was an “accident”). Clark mewls, and you and Bruce can’t help but smile fondly at him. Oh it was always so funny to you both, how out of the three of you, the most powerful, the mighty Superman, would always be the loudest one, the one who’d make the most desperate sounds and such.

Bruce wants to reach to catch you, but you don’t let him, slipping down against Clark’s body and out of his reach as your back sitting on your heels and are now too short...Well ok then, Bruce will go kiss Clark but...His husband pulls away too and looks at him intently.

What ?

And then it hits the greatest detective in the World. Yes. Of course. His shirt was gone, but he still had the rest of his clothes on, while they were both naked...that wouldn’t do, and in your world, it meant he would have a penalty.

Whoever out of the three of you had his clothes on last while the others were naked (which happened rarely, usually you’d get naked all almost simultanelly) had to strip for them.

Your back against Clark chest, you arch an eyebrow and Bruce sigh and rolls his eyes. Fine. Whatever. They were the one that didn’t get his clothes off before...But oh he knows he has to do it or...oh he better not think about the “or” situation.

He stands up and gets off the bed. And it’s too fucking hot, the way he stares at the both of you as he takes slowly his belt off. Unbutton his pants...Oh it’s not fair, he can’t be the only one that turns you guys on.

You exchange a quick look with Clark and Bruce knows he’s screwed. He thought he could captivate you two enough and get his little revenge of having to strip, it would usually work, but today ? Oh today you’re all too hungry for that to be enough. And so his plan backfires.

Clark kisses your shoulder, his eyes fixed on Bruce. One of his hand goes to slowly fondle your breast, as the other goes down to your most private part and brush slightly your clit. Your moan is what set Bruce ablaze, and he takes his pants, socks and shoes of in record time.

Your hand grabbing Clark’s erection doesn’t help either, and seeing you pump him lazily drives Bruce crazy. Oh he hates that. He hates how you two can make him loose all control so easily.

He grabs one of your arms, and tries to ignore you guys’ smug face. Bruce turns you around, so that your back is against his chest now. You can feel his cock in between your thigh.

Clark arch an eyebrow and smiles. Oh so it’s like that uh ? Fine. He crawls toward you two and sits back on the bed, on his knees, in front of you.

Bruce tears you off of him, and your hands go to rest on Clark’s thighs.

Your pussy drips in anticipation, which turns your husbands pupils’ completely black with lust.

You guys would usually tease each others for longer, but...two months without you, it was too much, and Bruce missed the feeling of you clenching around him. Slowly, you bend forward, knowing exactly what was going to happen, and you raise your ass a bit.

Clark braces himself, as he too knows what’ll happen...And when Bruce guides his cock inside you, pushes all the way to the hilt slowly but surely. When he slams his hips into yours with passion, and you gasp, your face against Clark’s abs...he knows it’s coming.

The first swipe of your tongue on Clark’s shaft makes him moan, and you and Bruce can’t help the little chuckle you make at his lack of vocal control.

You settle yourself conformably, on all four, your hands on Clark’s thighs, while Bruce puts one of his hand on your waist, and the other one on Clark’s shoulder for leverage, having the idea to use him to pump faster into you.

As you take Clark into your mouth, Bruce pouding inside you from behind, Clark is about to let out a loud moan but Bruce’s lips on his shut up up, swallow his cries of pleasure.

And suddenly, the room is filled with the lewd sounds for Bruce’s skin slapping yours as he makes love to you from behind, with the obscene sounds of your mouth sucking Clark’s cock eagerly, and of the smooch sounds of your two husbands french kissing.

The room is filled with Clark loud muffled moans, with Bruce’s more discreet and yet very sexy ones, and with yours, spilling around Superman’s cock.

This is one of your favorite position. Having one of them in your mouth as the other rams you with passion. And you know them both so well that you could almost count how long it’s gonna last before you all change...

And you’re right. As you countdown to zero you feel them stop kissing. Clark’s hands are caressing your back lovingly, tangling in your hair, while Bruce kisses where your neck and shoulder meet, leaving some love bites, and signifying to you that you can get off of Clark.

With expert movement, they move you around.

Oh. Yes. That night is yours. It’s about you threes’ pleasure, but tonight, a bit more about you, because fuck they missed you this past two months.

And so they straight you up, kissing you all over, as your hands don’t know which one to caress. They turn you around again, and now you’re between them, your back against Clark, facing Bruce.

One of your hand is in Bruce’s heart as his mouth latches on one of your nipple, while your other hands is in Clark’s hair, bringing him closer and closer as he kisses and bites your neck.

They pull away, kiss each others and you on the lips once more, and then Clark’s hands are under your thigh, lifting you.

This is always the most delicate position, the one where they have to be careful not to hurt you or anything. It’s not the same, when one of them is in the middle.  But when it’s you ? They can’t be as rough and violent. Because, even though they know you can handle a lot, they could just make you fall apart if they did too much.

Clark looks a Bruce, and in silence, they decide what to do next.

The Batman penetrates you once more, and buries himself deep within you. After a last kiss to Clark’s lips, he proceeds to bury his face in your neck, and suck there while waiting for Clark to settle within you too.

Slicked with your saliva, Clark doesn’t have to put lotion on his dick, however, not wanting to hurt you, he gestures slowly at Bruce and the Bat understands. Bruce pulls almost all the way out of you, so Clark can dip a finger in your drenched pussy, and as your broody one slowly pushes back inside you, Clark stretches your asshole to prepare you for what’s to come, wetting the inside of it with your own juice so as to not hurt you.

Your breath hitch at all those feelings. Bruce sucking on your neck and being so fucking still inside you, stretching you to the maximum. And Clark prepping you for...You know you’re ready and you kiss his cheeks lovingly.

He gives you a quick glance and nods, again, he understands.

He leans back on his heels, and let you and Bruce lean on him for better comfort (bless his super strength, because oh when Bruce starts to pounds in you, no man could withstand his force !).

And then slowly, making sure you’re not uncomfortable, Clark pushes inside your asshole, and the three of you gasp.

Clark gasps because you’re always so damn tight there.

You gasp because the combined feelings of Bruce and him is almost too much.

And Bruce, always so stoic and in control Bruce, can’t help but gasp at the feeling of you clenching around him, getting tighter as Clark invades your behind.

Your moans mixe all together, and it’s a beautiful concert of sounds of pleasure.

They stay still for a minute, waiting for you...but as soon as you nod...ooooh.

They each suck on a side of your neck, as they pump slowly into you, finding a punishing rhythm together.

When Bruce goes in, Clark pulls out, and vice versa, and a wide array of pleasurable feelings wash over all of you. They can feel you tighten around them, and you...oh the way they stretch you is so fucking perfect.

You know the end is close when even Bruce can’t hold in his moans and growls, when even Bruce starts to whisper yours and Clark’s name over and over again as he pumps inside of you, as Clark hands roam his body and yours. As one of your hand is in his hair, your other in Clark’s. As Clark bend his head back ward and...

He’s the first to come. Clark is always the first to come.

He unloads inside you and lets out a desperate small little strangled noise before collapsing back on his heels and holding you while Bruce finishes you.

It takes only one more minute of Bruce pouding you and Clark slowly rubbing circles around your clit for you to come. Hard. And oh it feels so good after two months spend without them !

Your last scream of pleasure is like the sweetest music to their ears, and it isn’t long for Bruce to spill inside you...He scrunches up his nose, and clenches his jaw. His eyes rolls back and he open his mouths to let out a guttural growls, exactly like you imitated him (but lower and sexier).

And with that, the three of you fall on your sides, still inside each others, close.

Clark moves first. Having finished before he always moves first. He pulls out of you, stands up, as you stay with Bruce, caressing his bicep gently, as he draws abstract patterns in your back with the tip of his fingers.

Clark comes back with a wet cloth, and cleans you and himself up, before giving it to Bruce who pulls out of you too, to clean you up there as well, and finally clean himself up.

Clark goes to throw the cloth in the dirty laundry (poor Alfred) and comes back.  

Yes. Since you were born, your life wasn’t normal.

It wasn’t normal, for most people, to be in the arms of two naked superheroes...And yet.

Yet, here, with Bruce’s and Clarks arms across you, holding each others against you in a tangle of arms and legs, you felt like you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As usual, Clark is the one who says it first. He's always been the most sensitive one...he kisses your shoulder, and Bruce’s show, and says, in a whisper :

-I love you (Y/N), love of my life. I love you Bruce, love of my life.

Even Bruce can't help the goofy smile splaying on his face, which gets even wider as you say :

-I love you too, Clark, fucking love of my life and sex god. Oh, and I love you, Bruce, also love of my life and also sex god.

They chuckle a bit at your antics...You’ve always been the funny one.

After a few seconds of silence, Bruce’s arms tighten around you and Clark, and he says, in his sexy low and full of fatigue voice :

-I love you both, more than anything. So much it hurt. I love you (Y/N), I love you Clark. Loves of my life. Always.

Oh Bruce. Always the dramatic one. He couldn’t do simple. Of course.

That night, and for the first time in two months, you finally fall asleep with your husbands wrapped around you. Not alone.

That night, the three of you cheesy fuckers fall asleep with smiles on your faces.

************

The next morning, you can hear the door of your bedroom slowly opening, and Jon and Damian’s faces appearing in the frame. Jon’s eyes are closed, Damian’s hand on his brother’s eyes, just to make sure he won't be scarred for life. Damian’s eyes are also shut tight...but he dares to open one and...oh sweet relief, you guys are under a blanket.

They were so afraid to find their dads and mom naked ! It wouldn’t be the first time, and they didn’t wanna throw up that early in the morning !

Your husbands growl, but you smile at your boys, and gesture for them to come give you a kiss.

They awkwardly avoid their dads and kiss your cheek...before kissing their fathers’ cheeks too (or they’d get jealous and pouty). You can’t help the smile creeping on your face at your 25 and 28 years old, your youngest sons, kissing their parents on the cheek.

They whisper that the rest of your boys are here, waiting downstairs for breakfast, and you tell them you’ll be down there in a few minutes.

Before though, you gotta put some clothes on and cuddle some more with your husbands that you hasn’t seen for two m...before you finish your sentence, your sons are out, yelling childish “eeeew”.

You can feel your husbands smile on your skin, and you know it’s gonna be the beginning of a great fucking day.

__________________________________

I have no idea what this is. I am posting it, but I’m not sure how long I will leave it on. Like I’m posting it because so many asked for it, but it’s...bad. And...Yeah it’s really not great and what I thought I would write so. 

[jonogueira]

Fic Writer Tag.

Thank you for thinking of me @a-shakespearean-in-paris and @princessvicky01

What is your total word count on AO3?

It is a surprising total of 127,899. And here goes some self-promotion, sorry.

Áine - English: It has 38 chapters so far (Being rewritten at the moment), and a total of  91,568.

Moon Hair & Fire Eyes: It has 8 chapters with 30,724.

The rest is in my “Áine - Brazilian Portuguese” and “Cully, you’re not gonna believe this!”, from an anon ask.

How often do you write?

Not as often as I would like. My work hours are crazy and every time I get a chance and am in the mood I try writing. 

Thursdays night I have time for sure, although it doesn’t mean I can make much progress... ~sigh~

Do you have a routine for writing?

Nope, nope nope! I just write as it goes. Sometimes I sit to write and start playing games instead hahaha... thinking about it now, I really should put more effort into it.

What are your favourite kinks/tropes/pairing?

I like fics that are centered in Thedas universe. I’ve read some Modern AU, Vampire AU... but it is not much what I like... not that they aren’t good, they are just not for me. Avvar Au is one that interests me a lot, so much so that I have a fic in that universe.

Pairings? Female Warden x Alistair/Zevran, Female Hawke x Fenris and Female Inquisitor and Cullen/Blackwall. I also love Original OC’s. I almost forgot to say that I LOVE mages!

I don’t mind the trope if there’s some angst with a happy ending... sad endings are not for me.

Kinks... I like it a little rough, a little of worship. Eye contact and fingers intertwined, kisses and kisses and kisses. I don’t know, it depends on the day hahahahaha.

Do you have a favourite fic of yours?

Oh hell yes! My baby Áine has most of my heart and soul. It was the first I wrote and I will cry and sob when I finish it.

Your fic with the most kudos?

So here are the things:

As I am rewriting Áine right now, it has almost no kudos. I decided to rewrite it and organize it into chapters because it used to be separate works in a series and there were a lot of kudos. The chapter “blue is the saddest color” was the one with the most but I don’t remember how many right now...~scratches head ~

Currently, Moon Hair & Fire Eyes is the one with more views, comments, and Kudos.

Anything you don’t like about your writing?

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA okay, I will stop now. My lack of vocabulary... I tend to use the same words and sentences: "He looked into her eyes," "she turned to him, "he walked away"... yep, I know it sucks. I try to break the cycle, but it is so damn difficult... I read a lot of fics from AMAZING writers, and I am always in awe of how they write! One day... one day! Don't get me started on grammar. I suck, that's pretty much it. If I wrote in Portuguese - maybe - I would write much better, with richer vocab and better punctuation... well probably much better in the overall. Idioms, phrasal verbs, sayings. I have a sentence in my head, but when I translate to English it loses the meaning or depth, it is FRUSTRATING!  I catch myself times and times staring at the screen because I cannot translate something with the same meaning... so thank you SO very much for reading my stories.

Now, something you do like?

I like that, despite all the trouble I have to write, I can successfully write down my thoughts, I mean, thinking is much easier! And although I commit errors and mistakes, it turns out decently. I like my angsts but no so much my smut - I don't think they are my thingy, hahaha. The way I write sometimes is also something I like very much. I tend to try different things. If you read "What could have been..." you will notice what I am saying right in the beginning, with Cullen's dream. I am very happy with how it turned out. But what I like the most, what makes me proud, is to see how far I have gotten. I have thought about stopping so many times, but going back to read my work and see how much I have improved... and falling in love with my characters all over again.. that my friends, is worth all my tears, doubts and time!

Tagging @childrenofdestinylove @amervalk @melaena @annorarutherford @lyrium-blossom @myrddinderwydd @etaeternum @jawsandbones and @sparemyocs

[binancydrew]

top 5 and bottom 5 kudos fics

tagged by @clarkescrusade, and i guess this sounds fun so why not. thanks boo.

rules: tag the person who tagged you, always post the rules, answer the questions, and add the date!

What are your five most popular works? (in descending order)

1. bound by the secrets we share | bellarke, 48k, E, completed 1/25/16

"Clarke, hi," he muttered, his face scrunched up in frustration as he finally managed to release the button, breathing in a large gulp of air.

They had only met a handful of times, twice before the match (both surprise guard inspections), and two more times since then.

She managed to twitch her mouth into a small smile. “You having a hard time breathing, too?”

Bellamy let out a choked laugh. “Yeah.”

Clarke nodded. “I’m nervous.”

Bellamy pulled his lips into a tight line. “It’ll be fine.”

The official stepped out into the hall and told them it was time to begin, Bellamy and Clarke exchanged a wary look. Bellamy held out his hand and Clarke slipped hers into his slightly clammy grasp and she trailed behind him into the room.

my biggest and longest endeavor. it took me a whole year from beginning to end. i struggled through re-writes and lack of inspiration, and i grew tremendously as a writer throughout the process. but it is the thing i am most proud of completing and i am happy that so many people loved it and encouraged me through it. 

2. teacher's pet | bellarke, 16k, E, completed 7/14/15

As soon as she arrived at the school, the office pointed her in the direction of her son’s second grade class and she knocked as she pushed open the door.

“Mr. Blake?” She said, pushing into the room. “I’m--”

“Clarke?”

Clarke nearly tripped over the rug. Lex was sitting in the front row of the classroom, just to the right of the teachers desk where sat none other than the illusive Just Bellamy.

“Fuck,” Clarke whispered.

Lex whipped around, gaping at her.

“Oh my god, sorry, baby.” Clarke pleaded with her child.

Bellamy cleared his throat, and Clarke dragged her gaze painfully back to his. No, no, no. Please don’t be my sons teacher. “I’m Mr. Blake.” Oh my god, I fucked my sons teacher.

hahahahaha, this started out as a two-shot and the response was SO intense i ended up turning it into a full blown fic. there were lots of little chapters, snapshots into the story. probaby some of the best smut i’ve ever written. it’s fun, and my wheelhouse, so i enjoyed this one a lot.

3. baggage claim | bellarke, 20k, M, completed 5/25/15

“You look a little young to be a doctor, Mrs. Griffin.” Bellamy joked.

Clarke blushed, “It’s just miss, and yeah, I get that a lot.” She had her arms folded across her chest as she leaned against the door. He had a lean build, messy dark curls (in a good way) and a medley of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. He had a funny way of pursing his lips when he smiled that kind of made her weak. It was an understatement to say he was handsome.

He had picked up his suitcase and dragged it behind him out into the hallway.

“Hang on, let me grab yours.”

“Oh, no, I can come--”

“No, no, please, let me.”

Clarke hung back in the doorway and she watched the man stroll back to his own room, disappearing into it for just a short moment. He came back into sight with her own belongings and she let out a deep breath with a smile.

He noticed how her eyes got real bright when she smiled, and he noticed the small gap between her two front teeth and the cute dimple in her chin. And he definitely noticed that she was the perfect height to fit against his own… not that he was… thinking about… that.

“Well, what a fun adventure this has been.” Clarke said, moving the bag just inside the door.

Bellamy nodded in agreement, “It was nice to meet you doc.” He took a small step backwards, smiling, before shoving his hands in his pockets and returning to his room. Once he was back in the quiet of his room, he grabbed a wad of clothing from his bag and headed for the bathroom. He indulged in a quick shower to freshen up before he headed down to the bar, feeling relieved to finally be rid of the stiff suit he’d been stuck in all day.

ah classic airport luggage switchup. this started out as a oneshot, and then i got crazy. it’s hard for me to read back because i think the writing was pretty weak, especially in the beginning. it was one of the first things i ever started writing. but it’s fun and a little silly so.

4. home is where the heart is | bellarke, 30k, M, completed on 9/8/14

“I’d be just fine on the couch.” She stepped closer.

“I’m sure you would, but you’ll probably get a better nights sleep if you sleep in the bed.”

“Why don’t we share?”

Clarke was surprised at the words coming out of her own mouth, only inches from Bellamy, heat radiating between them. “Oh?” Bellamy brought his hand to Clarke’s face, her skin soft under his calloused palm.

Tension dangled between them. She’d be gone tomorrow. What could it hurt. They both needed a release, a comfort, whatever you want to call it.

my very first full blown fic. i am still very proud of this. completing this was not easy, and it was such a learning experience. it’s terrifying to share something you created with the world, and i was so happy about the response and encouragement i got from it. my little southern small town au baby,

5. a kiss is a secret which takes the lips for the ear | bellarke, 1453, G, posted 12/6/14

"What?" Clarke demanded.

"Uh, what, what? What the hell was that?"

Clarke raised an eyebrow, “What was what?” She looked around innocently.

"You just kissed Bellamy!"

"No, I didn’t!" Clarke exclaimed.

"Uh, yeah, you totally did."

Clarke got quiet, “Oh, my god.”

"Yeaaah," Raven tittered.

haha, i think this was a prompt, and probably posted before 12/6 because i was weird about cross posting for awhile. this, i think, got a lot of notes on tumblr. maybe one of my first viral tumblr fics. it was a really cool feeling and i still adore this fic.

What are your five least popular works by kudos? (in ascending order)

1. Stronger in the Contrast | bellarke, 2.2k, T, posted 10/27/16

“That’s a lot of rations.” She’s frowning. “You realize this is a day trip.”

He huffs, tipping his head towards her. “A lot can happen in a day.”

Remember what happened the day Charlotte died. Jumped off a cliff.

Bellamy slams his eyes shut.

All because you told her to slay her demons.

“Bellamy?” Clarke’s voice sounds far away, tugging at his consciousness. He jerks back to attention. “What’s going on with you?”

lol, i hated writing this and i hated how it turned out. bff halloweek fill.

2. Endurance: Mecha | gen/bellarke, 65k, T, completed 7/31/16

[Camera pans over a dense forest that opens out onto a rugged coastline, crystal waters lapping at the sand and zooms in on a man clad in a blue and yellow Hawaiian-print shirt walking along the shore]

Marcus Kane: Right now ten guys and ten girls from all across the country are about to embark on a journey of a lifetime. They will be isolated from their friends and families and put to the test. These twenty kids will see if they have both the ability and the Endurance to overcome obstacles to achieve a goal. As this group of strangers makes their way across the sea, they must mentally prepare themselves to have their courage, strength and stamina tested.

[Camera pans to a boat skimming across rugged water, a lanky boy with disheveled brown hair and a goofy smile leans on the edge of the boat]

this was my absolute favorite project i’ve ever done. i actually wrote it with @clarkescrusade. i am sad it never gained the traction we were hoping for. we even presented it like a tv show and had an interactive blog and everything. oh well, i still do and always will adore this project with all my heart.

3. that you just might | bellarke, 1694, T, posted 12/17/15

“How’ve you been?” Clarke laughs at his attempt to make small talk.

“We live together, Bellamy.”

i think this was for a ss and i copped out and just built on a drabble i had already written. it was fine and cute. nothing revolutionary.

4. Feel The Love In The Room | bellarke, 2k, posted 12/21/15

“Ready for presents?” Bellamy asks, raising an eyebrow.

“I never am.” Clarke smiles at him.

a christmas fill for the bellarke advent calendar i think? it was silly and cute, again, not very revolutionary.

5. a little more touch my body | feyrhys, 5k, abandoned on 8/23/16

In an instantaneous decision Feyre turns her head, capturing Rhys’ lips with her own. He lets out a surprised yelp before relaxing into it. It true fashion, Rhys makes a show of tangling one hand in her hair and settling the other on her hip, tugging her in closer.

The kiss is innocent enough at first, a firm, chaste pressure, though Feyre is certain she can almost taste the whiskey. She can’t help but let out a soft moan when Rhys slips the tips of his fingers beneath the hem of her top, thumb rubbing along the soft skin above her waistband.

Feyre makes another split second decision and slides her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he opens for her eagerly. The noise around them seems to dull, and her ears now roar, blood rushing through her, electricity humming through every vein in her body. Rhys’ hand travels around her midsection, his palm pressing flat against the small of her back.

Rhys’ spins the stool towards her, and Feyre steps in between his legs. He drops the hand from her hair and places it on her hip as well. Her hands grasp at his shirt and she takes another step closer, their bodies flush.

my first real attempt at writing something non-bellarke. it was fun and smutty. i kind of lost interest. but the fandom was small but it was well received!

anyways, thanks annie. that was fun. i can continue to cringe at all my bad writing my afar now. too lazy to tag anyone else. or maybe @yalenayardeen and @ofhobbitsandwomen i guess, if you want.