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hazelnut-u-out · 11 months

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i've been going through a lot, but i finally managed to get around to finishing my first birdrick fic in literal agesssss.

all the lovely ship art i've seen recently kept me motivated to push through and finish a draft, so shoutout to all of the lovely birdrick artists out there <3

as always, you can find it on my ao3 (here!), but i'll post the full text below the cut for those who prefer it :3

2735 words | light angst

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Scars

Rick wrung his hands. Artificial callous gloving artificial bone.

He’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about the fact that he was no longer in his original body. It was contradictory. Rick had found within himself no sentiment of sanctity for the individual, but always found a melancholy homesickness for his old prison of a vessel.

For actual, honest-to-God flesh and blood.

...That wasn't made in a clone vat.

It suited him, though—to be more machine than man. He’d always felt sort of like an AI, or a robot, or… something. Being human was foreign to him, as if he weren’t actually a member of the same species. Space—full of the weird, gross, and incomprehensible—felt more like coming home than leaving it.

Rick often found himself victim to the same odd sentiment when it came to the sentient creatures he met during his exploration of the unknown.

Well, he thought. Less of an exploration than it was a search .

Sometimes, he wished he had spent more time living than waiting to die.

Now, for instance, some stupid pang of sentimentality—completely unscientific and devoid of productive purpose—had him standing on a branch, drenched in slightly-too-acidic-to-be-comfortable rainwater, and hoping to fuck he’d answer the door.

This place was sadder than he remembered it. The limbs of the trees drooped to face the forest floor, crying silently. From where Rick stood, they enveloped him as if they were breathing, protecting what dared to inhabit them. The sky was overcast a dark grey, teaming up with the dead of night to douse everything in shadow. So few bird people still lived on this planet that the light from homes and rudimentary nests was few and far between. Counting on the consistency of sentient life to light your way on this planet wouldn’t get you anywhere.

It wasn’t as if it were necessarily remote. The remnants of what once was were still there, residing in living memory for the dwindling numbers of a generation. Nature, as it does on all planets siring life, engulfed the residue a growing species leaves in its wake.

Trees swallowed the walls of homes. Vines obscured pathways. Hanging bridges and sky-born signs broke apart.

Everything felt weighed down.

Every time Rick came here, it seemed worse. Life seemed more forgotten. Culture, language, and tradition resting on the tired shoulders of people who would never know one another.

A planet scarred.

A person scarred.

A friendship scarred.

Rick had tried to reach out to Birdperson over the last few weeks.

It was excruciating. He would lay out on the roof—intoxicated, comatose, and splayed out like a patient anesthetized along a table—and stare at the light of the beacon as it pierced the clouds.

It was the longest time he’d ever gone without talking to him since they’d met, and he’d started to… miss things.

He hated it.

Missing something was an admission of caring about it—which he did not do. About anything.

So, as anyone who didn’t give a shit would, he stood soaked, drunk, and unannounced at his best friend’s door in the middle of the night.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Rick lifted his hand and gently rapped his knuckles against the coarse wood.

Three times. If he didn’t answer after three sets of knocks, he’d just leave. He didn’t even care.

One.

Two.

“Fuck it,” he muttered, turning away.

The muffled sound of a small child crying out seeped past the rain.

Turning, Rick saw a light flicker on inside, causing a warm glow to fall along the deep bark and caress the tips of his black loafers.

Frozen, Rick tuned his audio-enhancing implants to the small movements on the other side of the walls.

“Oh, my little nestling,” a gruff Birdperson murmured. “Hush, now. You have already had a bath. It is time for sleep.”

Rick didn’t need to draw on his extensive experiences with Birdperson to know he was exhausted.

For a brief moment, he thought of the conversation he’d had with Beth earlier. That familiar cold pit of guilt roiled in his gut.

He knocked again.

“Perhaps someone agrees with you, little one,” Birdperson whispered, Rick hearing every bit of it as he allowed his implants to violate some unspoken rule of privacy and familial intimacy. “Unreasonable creatures are up at unreasonable hours.”

Rick listened as the click of talons approached the door.

Light properly flooded the space Rick inhabited as the door slowly opened. The hiss of rain suddenly engulfed him as his implants switched off.

Birdperson’s face didn’t look like Rick had expected it to. There was apprehension and a bit of shock, but an aura of relief remained beneath it.

Rick’s thoughts raced to how he must have looked. Soaked, lab coat clinging to his thin frame. Pathetic.

Like an old, wet cat.

In an old, wet box.

On an old, wet street.

“Listen, I… I wasn’t sure if I should come, but, uh… I—”

“Rick,” Birdperson interjected softly. “I am very grateful you came. Please, come in.” Birdperson—smaller, fluffier bird child writhing in his arms—moved slightly to the side, gesturing a stubbled chin for Rick to enter.

He obliged, shivering in earnest as the heat of the home swallowed him, calling attention to just how cold he really was.

“Would you please hold her for a moment?” his companion asked, desperation dripping from his plea. Rick finally allowed himself to take in his friend’s state.

The bird man before him stood slightly slouched forward, small patches of discoloration littering his limbs. His eyes were sunken, his face unshaven, and his scarred arms shook as they extended the child towards Rick.

“Mmm… Yeah, let me just…” Rick rolled up his left sleeve and pressed a tiny ruby of a button on the side of his watch with his thumb. Instantly, his clothes poofed up and settled back against his skin, now pleasantly warm and dry.

The small gust of toasty air gently ruffled the feathers covering both sets of wings before him.

Rick reached out, taking the child in his arms. She let out a terrible shriek.

“Dios!” Rick blurted. “She’s got a set of lungs, eh?”

“Like you would not believe,” Birdperson grumbled as he shuffled further into the home, plopping down on the sofa. “I am so glad you came.”

“Oh?” Rick said timidly, tucking the child—whom he now noticed wore a straight-jacket-like onesie that restrained her arms but did little to prevent her tiny legs from swinging wildly in her struggle—casually beneath one arm and following in tow. “I kinda thought you’d be pissed, to be honest.”

“Perhaps if I were less exhausted, I would have the energy to care about quarrels and friendships,” his friend replied flatly, leaning forward and pressing his palms into his eyes. “You think being dead is exhausting. Then, you come back to life and raise… What is the term you used to refer to Beth? Antichrist?”

“You’re thinking of ‘hellion,’” Rick answered. “I’ve only ever spoken about the antichrist in a positive light.”

“Ahh… Well, you come back to life and raise a hellion. Whatever that means on Earth.” Birdperson stretched his wings out behind him, unfurling himself backward and sinking into the crease of the sofa. Rick chastised himself for admiring how his newfound scars—still pink and sensitive—highlighted the soft contour of his chest and stomach. “I recall that your daughter…” his friend shot him a wary look. “— daughters were quite spirited children.”

“I only had one at this age. You can just stick with singular.” Rick shrugged.

“Is that not disrespectful?” his partner asked, cocking his head inquisitively.

“How so?”

“Your culture emphasizes pronouns, no? So how would plurality of self be any different? Does referring to both of your daughters as one, even though they are now separate, not erase their individuality?”

“Oh, BP that’s—that’s cute and all. Real cute, but, ah…” Rick chuckled. “One, we need to brush you up on the fact that there are literally infinite versions of everyone . Two, neither of my current daughters are my original daughter. She was never cloned, so I think we’re safe to just say she was one girl, eh? Who knows if she would’ve had a clone?”

Rick forced himself to keep smiling and swallow the lump in his throat. He tightened his grip on the child twisting and growling beneath his right arm, locking his cybernetic joint in place.

“Ah, I see,” Birdperson said, concern etching its way along his brow. He threw a quick glance at his child, then back up at Rick. “You are drunk.”

“What about it? I’m always drunk,” Rick questioned, a bit annoyed.

“Yes, but a nestling is present.”

“Oh, come on, man,” Rick waved a hand in dismissal, shifting his weight to one foot. “Never killed Beth.”

Lie . Rick felt as though he’d swallowed sand.

“I will consider a compromise,” Birdperson proposed, a single corner of his mouth twitching impishly.

“Go on.”

“If you put her to bed for me, I will forgive you for the unprompted visit and inappropriate intoxication.”

Rick let out an amused huff. “Does the deal come with clean clothes and a place to crash tonight?”

“Are you out of portal fluid?” Birdperson raised an eyebrow.

“Home is… complicated,” Rick sighed, averting his eyes to a set of three empty wooden picture frames hanging on the wall. He couldn’t remember in his stupor, but he could’ve sworn they used to have something in them. “It's easier not to portal back for supplies. Can I stay or not?”

“Deal.”

—

Rick shuffled down the dimly lit hallway, his socks lighting little sparks along the carpet.

The tee Birdperson had loaned him was littered in holes, about three sizes too big, and three decades old. All of that without even mentioning the breeze from the wing accommodations along the back.

That was something he definitely didn’t miss about sharing BP’s clothes.

The Flesh Curtains was scrawled out along the front in curly hand-sewn font, courtesy of Squanchy’s mother.

Rick remembered his reaction. ‘Not exactly what I was looking for, but there’s something punk about it!’ he’d said when Birdperson put it on.

It was also the night he’d decided to build an automated machine to print the merch for them.

Rick had settled on just wearing his boxers and socks while his clothes were in the wash, figuring the shirt was long enough. The drying feature was a quick fix, but he swore the smell of the chemical reaction lingered on him afterward, and it would’ve been torture to be overstimulated for that long. Now, he regretted not asking if his friend had kept any of his sweats around, but he doubted it anyway.

Peeking his head into the doorway to the bedroom, he looked at his companion curled up in his nest. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly parted, and his cheeks flushed with sleep.

Rick would compare him to an angel, but that was overdone and, frankly, uncomfortably secular for a man of science. Instead, he'd settle for a great work of stone, carved to appear downy and plush.

Rick cleared his throat, watching as Birdperson’s eyes fluttered open.

“Hmmm?” he hummed. “Did you get her put down?”

“Yeah,” Rick whispered back. “She’s a good kid. It only took twenty minutes of wrestling and about five made-up serial killer stories. I felt like I was hosting a true crime podcast.”

“Miss them at this age?” A playful quip.

Rick felt a pang in his chest.

“Always.” The word came out more pained than he’d meant it to. He cleared his throat. “I just need a blanket.”

“You need two?” Birdperson asked, gesturing to the blanket he had draped over himself.

“I—uh… I figured I’d take the couch tonight,” Rick responded, rubbing his elbow awkwardly. “I assumed you’d abandoned the whole ‘communal nest’ thing since the kid’s got her own room.”

“If I let her share a nest with me, I think she’d kill me,” Birdperson said with a snicker. “I had her in here the first night and I woke up to her trying to choke me with a stray branch.”

“Welcome to the club,” Rick huffed.

“Come to bed,” Birdperson murmured, something soft and light to his voice that made Rick’s heart skip a beat.

Honestly, he hadn’t planned for this.

Sure, he hadn’t cared to do this twenty years ago, but Squanchy was there most of the time, and when he wasn’t… Well, situations were different.

Still, despite the change of plans, Rick resigned all too easily to his new fate, stepping into the room and clicking the door shut behind him.

He shuffled along the edge of the room, rounding the corner. The amber haze from the small lights at the corners danced over Birdperson’s imperfect skin as he pulled the blanket back, inviting Rick to slip in next to him.

Rick felt Birdperson’s warmth seep into his skin as he slid beneath the fabric. He laid flat on his back and found himself lifting one arm out of instinct.

It seemed that his friend had fallen into old habits as well, immediately finding the slot of space between Rick’s left arm and his torso and tucking himself into the curve of his ribs. Birdperson’s ear pressed against Rick’s sternum and, for a long time, they both lay there.

Just as Rick had begun to think his counterpart was finally sleeping, a soft murmur warmed the fabric of his shirt.

“You can barely hear your heart anymore,” his friend muttered.

“Huh?” Rick sighed, barely awake.

“When I first met you, your heart was the only thing I could hear when we slept. Now, it is only mechanical hubbub.”

“What do you mean?”

“Whirs. Clicks. Putters. That sort of thing.”

Rick ran the back of his right hand along the puffy edges of Birdperson’s scars from where it was pinned between them, thinking.

“I’ve never been alive, really. Like, in an organic sense. I’m… fake or—or artificial.”

“The life I led with you did not feel artificial.”

“Maybe it was, and you didn’t notice.”

“I would have noticed.”

“Would you?” Rick breathed out over a mess of plumage. “There was a time when you were more machine than person, too, you know. You seemed pretty content then.”

“Rick,” Birdperson sighed. “Please stop while I can still forgive you.”

“Would you make me leave if you couldn’t?”

“I…” his friend’s voice wavered. “Not now, but… I mean, thank you. Thank you for fixing me. Thank you for putting me back together, but, Rick… You are going to have to accept that I cannot do that for you.”

Rick didn’t understand. He didn’t want to understand. The realization felt leaden in his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I cannot fix you. It is not my job to let you berate me in hopes my compassion could one day repair you.”

The silence that followed was anything but silent. It was thick and nauseating with a life of its own. It squirmed between them, so that their bodies, though touching, were separated by some impermeable barrier.

Rick wanted to say so much. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to scream and cry and hold Birdperson like he’d melt away or slip through his fingers. He wanted to explain and barter and justify. He wanted to take accountability and swear to never speak to him ever again.

What came out when he opened his mouth was shameful. Flippant and insensitive. He almost tried to swallow it before it came out.

“At least you can say you tried, I guess.”

“Did I try enough? Do you think that you could have been different if I had tried harder when you were still… fixable?”

Rick blinked.

“You tried more than anyone else ever did. You… You had your own shit going on. If it makes you feel any better, I think you did fix a small part of me.”

“I am sorry, Rick.”

“For what?”

Rick was confused. He should be the one apologizing. Not Birdperson.

Perfect, compassionate, sensitive Birdperson.

“For not knowing. For moving on. For not moving on. For telling you, now, that I can never afford to give you another chance.”

A shaky breath.

“I forgive you. I’ll always forgive you.”

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#rick and morty #rick sanchez #birdrick #my fic

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oumaheroes · 2 years

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Silence is Golden

Day 25 of Whumptober

Lost voice/ Duct tape/ ‘You’d better start talking’

Characters: Canada, human AU

Day 24

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Matthew sits and waits.

He is on a bench in a small park outside his of house, his crumbling garden fence to his back. The bench is one of those old fashioned ones Papa calls a health hazard, thin slats of wood cobbled together that grow slightly mossy and dark after a rain, the wood cool and smooth to touch.

It is lonely out here when there is nothing else to do. This was usually a good thing; his bench is a good place to feel sad and being alone helps. His family are loud and sometimes Matthew struggles to understand his feelings and himself amongst it all. His emotions are quiet, like he is, and he likes to sit here alone to grow them into a voice he can share.

He supposes that, if anything then, he is waiting.

Between the soles of his trainers his picks up a small pebble and worries it from foot to foot, concentrating on balancing it for as long as he can. The park is quiet around him, no children or people for distraction but he has a good view of the place, from the playground itself to the left to the dark woods and the start of the walking trails to the right. Way beyond, right at the back as far as he can see, are the public toilets and carpark- a whole world away.

‘It’s too loud out there with all of those children,’ Papa had complained when they first moved here, his voice floating out of the kitchen window. Matthew had been in the room above with Alfred, their toys a scattered mess between them that made Matthew upset when they couldn’t be easily pulled apart. Alfred always was too grabby, ‘Come summer time it will be awful with that park right there.’

‘No it won’t,’ Daddy had said, ‘Because the house will be quiet- both the boys will be out there the whole time.’

Matthew’s out here now. And Daddy was right, it’s always quiet at home these days.

There are many other benches in the park but this one is Matthew’s favourite. The reason, he thinks, is obvious. It’s close enough to home for him to run in if he needs to and it’s also in the perfect spot to see the entire playground without actually being there. He can see the slides and the cool zipwire, and half of the climbing nets before they’re swallowed up by trees. The bench is safely nestled between two worlds, home and beyond, a part of neither but belonging to both like a bridge. Matthew can easily slip away unnoticed from one to the other to stay in the middle.

The perfect resting place.

There are no lamps outside, and the night is thick. Between puddles of yellow, the dark pressed against their edges, Matthew sits and waits, and remembers.

He remembers his parents fighting, horrible things said behind closed doors because they had thought that Matthew and Alfred were outside. Remembers Alfred shifting awkwardly by the swings, refusing for the first time Matthew’s request for him to come and play without the new friends he’d made. Remembers feeling angry and alone and not liking being so, drawn to his bench to hug his knees and wait for his absence to be noticed. Hoping that it would happen soon because it was getting cold and he was tired. Papa was supposed to be making a creamy salmon pasta, Matthew’s favourite, but the smell of it never came.

One minute. Two.

Half an hour. More.

His man had found him there waiting, with his careful smile and strong hands; a silver tongue which led Matthew away. To the woods, through the trees- a promise unfulfilled. A pain so sharp and blinding Matthew still couldn’t think of it, even as the years passed by and the paint on their house cracked, flaked off.

Matthew will sit here, forever, on this bench, and wait to be found.

Maybe, he thinks to himself, this is because his bench is where he was most of himself. Or, where he spent most of his time. He would love to ask someone, but Daddy never catches his eye no matter how many times Matthew tries, his fingers pressed to the glass of the kitchen window- a tap tap tap before his bench draws him back. Papa walks past without stopping, his silver hair scraped back, and Alfred... Matthew recognises Alfred the least. There is something in his brother’s eye that scares him and Matthew wonders if he would have looked that different if he had been allowed to grow.

Mostly, he wonders why he feels louder amongst them all now that he is silenced.

He knows exactly how he feels now.

He waits. Maybe they’ll join him one day. He can tell them then.

He doesn’t mind waiting.

Day 26

Full Masterlist

#aph canada #hws canada #face family #aph face family #aph face #hws #aph #hetalia #whumptober #whumptalia #whumptober 2022 #heroes writes

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finniestoncrane · 2 years

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Dano!RiddlerxReader

Dropping the first chapter here and this link to AO3 where you can see up to chapter five so far.

Warnings for smut, fluff, incels, mean boys, language, CNC, painplay, stalking, absolutely unhinged OC which is you I guess. See AO3 link for more tags/warnings.

It’s not physically impossible to sleep peacefully in Gotham, but it takes a lot of practice to get used to it. You’ve lived there your whole life though, albeit maybe in a slightly nicer area, way before. When your dad was still around and you still spoke to your mom. Before you’d broken contact and moved into the dank, wet, inner-city. Still, even that was around about seven years ago. Seven years of sirens, screaming, shouting, and strangely enough you could even hear audible punches landing from your window, even through the near constant pattering of the rain. And sometimes that was exciting.

That’s what the attraction to the step-above-homeless apartment was (plus the low rent). It’s not that you yourself were violent, but there was something in the violence that was thrilling. Your adrenaline pumped as you walked home, under the bridges and past unbelievably dark alleys. It wasn’t the usual feeling of uneasiness that accompanied being a woman alone at night. They were feelings that should be explored with a psychiatrist, or an understanding and adventurous partner. Unfortunately, you had neither the money for a shrink nor the social skills for a man. It was bedsit, open windows, and silently masturbating as you listening to the ongoing orchestra of police cars and burglar alarms, accompanied by a heavenly choir of screaming angels. It was perfect, so perfect in fact that you’d started to get annoyed, and a little bit worried, about this dumb Batman figure, floating around and “stopping crime”. Yeah, you could find any level of depravity you were looking for online, but then that would be admitting that you were into it. And that might be a step too far for your obsessive mind to walk back from. And here came the caped crusader to clean up the grotty city you knew and loved. Ruining the passivity of your pleasure.

It was around eleven at night, and usually this was the peak time for street fights that poured out from the seedy bars and clubs that surrounded the apartment building. It was eerily silent, however.

“He’s already made a difference!” you hissed in your mind, sighing out loud to your empty apartment, unless the rats that lived in the walls could hear you. In a bit of a mood now, you lazily grabbed your laptop from the floor next to your unmade single bed with one hand, chucking it onto your stomach. After checking several of the neighbourhood watch groups you’d joined to get a sniff of any action, you realised it was indeed a rare quiet night. A newsletter from some wannabe masked vigilante you subscribed to caught your attention as you listlessly scrolled your emails looking for a morsel of entertainment.

These emails always came from one guy, you assumed guy because some of the things that were said and that went un-checked about women were enough to tell you that you might not have been as welcome had your online alter not been purposefully skewed to read “male”. At first it had been a harmless newsletter about how shitty it was to live in Gotham, and how they needed someone to come make it better. Then he, and the very few followers that were active in those days, started focusing on how to make the city worse. A few weeks after that, they moved to a more ‘secure’ platform, and you needed a password. As a long time follower, you were given it by default. It was kind of scary, to let yourself get pulled in by these people. But you were a silent observer.

To begin with, they had organised graffiti campaigns. And then it sort of stopped there. They didn’t quite have the mettle to get involved in the gangs, the initiation rites were too much for them. And this pathetic dude who ran the newsletter was no great leader. It kind of fell apart, until it was just a few long-term readers who stuck around to get the latest news on the “anarchy” in Gotham. If anything, you had stayed subscribed out of habit, and maybe, partly, with the hopes that things might pick up again. But you could tell from the tone of the last couple of newsletters, infrequent as they were now, that Batman had left a scar on the writer.

This one though seemed pretty…upbeat?

NEWSLETTER: You guys should check out this stream!!

There was a link, instructions and a password, plus a screenshot of a website asking a puzzle question with the answer filled in. The guy who wrote the newsletter really thought everyone else was too stupid to figure that one out.

Unsure if it was the lack of information in the email, or morbid curiosity, you hovered over the enter key and pressed it anyway. Was it going to be a joke? Kittens frolicking in a field or something? Or was it going to be some horrible, possibly real, livestream of some poor woman being tortured in a dark room.

Disappointment, either way. You didn’t want to be scared, but you didn’t want to leave without a thrill. And instead, you were greeted by an empty room, a chat log on the side looked fairly barren. A message or two from about 5 minutes ago had come up. You recognised one of the usernames, it was similar to the one that the newsletter writer had used in the public days of his forum.

“Excited for you to get started tonight!!”

A few more usernames began to appear and the total count seemed to settle around 20 people, with a few dropping out and a few coming in consistently, a trend that would continue throughout. The clock at the bottom of the screen read 11:28. Your heart skipped a little in anticipation. Maybe something horrible was about to happen. What was about to start? Who was going to start? What had happened previously?

The sound of a door opening was the first noise that came out of your speakers, and was the first noise that had been made inside your apartment since you had sighed. It gave you a small shock. The waiting was almost over. Footsteps, heavy boots from the sound of them, grew ever so slightly louder as they approached the camera. The screen went black as the shitty webcam attempted to balance itself. Black, then a brief flash of white, then a deep, olive green. It took a second to register what was in the field of vision, but you were quick to recognise that the field of vision was encompassed by a jacket. Waterproof. A little army-esque. Hopefully this wasn’t going to be some neo-nazi, a militant fascist on a rant. What a huge waste of time, and a definite mood killer. The figure turned to the side and a flash of white on his coat was visible as he rotated to face behind him, fiddling with something on the wall at his back. It looked like some squiggles, like some paint had been spilled.

Heavy breathing echoed in the almost barren studio apartment as the figure leant across behind the camera. It sounded off, like it was muffled by something. Your heart was beating fast. You had managed to avoid seeing anything too horrendous on your escapades into the darker side of what the internet had to offer. At one point, you had considered reporting a video you had come across in the comments of a forum discussing the issue of stalking in Gotham, but it was quickly revealed to be a hoax. Still, the thought that you could be seconds away from seeing something to awful that you might be considered a witness, something you might not be able to come back from, it had you gently moving the mouse towards the exit button.

As you neared it, the figure on the screen sat down. You gasped sharply.

A mask, glasses, the light reflecting off of…was that saran wrap? An olive green hoodie, with no strings for the hood. Leather gloves, reaching to adjust the glasses. And deep, wide, green eyes. The greenest eyes.

Your eyes were going wider as you stared into his. Everything melted away for a second. The chat log, the other users, the sirens, the rats, the crushing sense of isolation that you were so good at pretending you didn’t feel. All of it. It felt like he was looking into your soul, directly at you. Although, there was a screen in the way. But it didn’t feel like that. It was strange, confusing, and your heart just kept beating harder and harder until it hurt. There was something about those eyes, and whoever was behind them, you were hanging on their every word. And they hadn’t even spoken yet.

“Hello, thank you for joining me tonight!”

Deep, but it didn’t sound natural. There was some element of voice modulation for sure. But it was still strangely arousing.

The next twenty minutes were a blur. It would be a miracle if you could even remember your own name, let alone the specifics of anything he said. Heart thumping, eyelashes fluttering for a screen that couldn’t appreciate it, you were smitten. By a mask and some glasses. And the greenest eyes. The dreamiest eyes.

It had been three weeks since you first saw the stream. It had become easier to focus on his words when you thought about what his lips looked like as he formed the words. To think how he formed the sounds. To know if he spat when he shouted, and he shouted a lot. I wonder if he’d shout at you. If you asked nicely enough?

Thoughts like that kept popping into your head as you watched him rant and rave about the injustices in Gotham, about the lies, the liars, those who protect the lies, and the liars. As he pointed dramatically to the newspaper scraps pinned and taped to his walls. There was a frantic energy that was so intriguing, and exciting. And, to your absolute delight, there was that lingering threat of danger. He seemed so angry, so…unhinged.

Perfect.

You caught yourself holding your head dreamily in your hands, like a teenager desperately in love. Was that what this was? Love? Or lust? Or both? Either way, you would be absolute putty in his leather clad hands if you were ever face to face with him.

Your heart sank a bit at that thought.

He seemed like he had all of the potential to be big, bad and scary. The ‘boogeyman’. But, you knew it in your heart. You’d spent a lot of time around these people on the internet. You’d seen them get angry, rage, build up to what could have been earth shattering violence and then fall flat. Which, and you felt like you had to clarify this even to yourself in your own mind, you were very, VERY grateful for. It would be borderline psychopathy to wish that one of these ineffectual, women-hating, man-children would ever be able to grow up and do something instead of just bitching about it online. But the part of you that craved danger was intrigued by the capacity for violence. And, as much as you were drawn in by his words, his almost socialist mantras, how easy it was to believe him that, much like a French peasant, a revolt within the proletariat against the lies and corruption of the rich was not only the answer, but was already in motion, you just couldn’t get past the fact that he was online, in a dark and messy room, talking to what was for all intents and purposes himself.

What you wanted was for him to be the fearless leader. Maybe he would lead the charge in a riot in Gotham, his followers behind him, dressed in his uniform. Spreading his word like gospel, searching out Gotham’s elite, the upper classes, those who protect and serve themselves and their business interests. And after a night of shocking the city, the world, he’d come home to you. Tired, and sweating, and peel off the mask, the clingfilm, readjust his glasses and pull you into him. Whisper to you…

“What’s mine, but only you can hold it?”

Huh.

Even though you were alone in your room, you still shivered in slight disgust at yourself, making a fake gagging noise to really chastise yourself. Was this really what you had become? Some lovesick fool, imagining a romantic scenario with a man who, and let’s all be honest here, had likely never said more than five words to a woman, let alone pulled one into a warm embrace and whispered, so eloquently, a romantic riddle.

It had been about a week or so into the streams when he’d identified himself as Riddler, and at first, it was incredibly dorky, making you almost cringe when he said it, or when the others in the chat called him by that name. And then it grew on you, and you imagined him asking you to say it while he was on you, around you, in you. Heavy breathing, mask on, muffled and desperate pleas for you to treat him like he thought he should be treated. And after that point, it became your favourite word. You waited, with baited breath for the next time you could answer one of the riddles he posed to everyone for fun. His eyes lit up as the chat started filling with answers, some wrong, some right. It seemed he was excited either way, eyes glittering in bright emerald just at the thought of people paying attention to him, listening to him, doing as he asked even if it was something as simple as solving his silly little puzzles.

You’d never dared to answer one yet, not to the chat at least. But you usually got them right and felt smug, letting yourself imagine him being surprised of you, or proud of you, or rewarding you with a little kiss on your forehead but that’s not him but it could be but it’s not but you want it to be and-

The train of thought was proving too much, and your heart physically ached. It was stupid to let yourself develop a crush on a man you’d never even seen, either in full or in reality. He barely said anything beyond riddles and threats, and when he did talk about something else it was usually about Batman of all things. The crushing disappointment, the Schrödinger like problem you’d created for yourself. Either he wasn’t what you thought he was, or he was and you couldn’t have him. Or maybe he wouldn’t have you. It was a painful obsession and it was already too far gone to stop. Whether you knew it and were in denial, or were blissfully unaware, he’d tipped you over the edge.

His heart. That was his, and only you could hold it.

#dano!riddler #riddler fanfic #riddler smut #riddler x you #riddler x reader #paul dano riddler #riddler 2022 #edward nashton #paul dano #the riddler #the riddler fanfic #my shit

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ialwayscomewhenyoucall · 2 years

Text

A Little Hope and a Dash of Magic

Lyra’s on her knees in front of the bench–their bench–at the botanic gardens, contemplating the lawn in front of her and deciding how best to dig several deep, envelope-sized holes. Her scholars would be horrified. She looks away from the grass and finds herself staring instead into the big, unblinking eyes of her daemon. They consider each other without speaking; anyone looking on would likely imagine the two locked in silent conversation, but instead Lyra’s head echoes with painful silence. She’s the first to look away.

“It can’t work, Pan,” she says, hands on her hips. “It would take magic, and we ent got any. And I don’t think even magic can reach…” She doesn’t finish. She can’t say it, can barely even think it. She knows if she does she’ll cry, and she can’t do that.

Not today.

“Witches have magic,” Pan starts, but Lyra is quick to interrupt.

“We ent witches, Pan, and you know it. No cloud pine branch will let us fly, and we both get older just as we should.” It hurts a little, getting older. Another thing she doesn’t like to think.

“We’re like witches,” Pan mumbles, but he doesn’t push. Because neither of them likes to think about that.

Lyra can’t remember who first had the idea. They’d been in her little room, looking at the basket of letters she’s been writing to Will for so long. Letters with his address inked on the envelopes in ever neatening script; her handwriting has greatly improved in the years since they’d said goodbye. Since she’d felt his warm breath on her cheek. Since she’d started crying herself to sleep at night.

She can’t remember who had the idea, but they’d both agreed to try. Because seeing the letters there in her room, piling up day after day, broke her heart in ways she didn’t understand.

“Why do we even write the letters?” Lyra bursts out, burying her face in her hands. “We know he’ll never see them. Every stroke of the pen is like another piece of glass across our hearts, and still we write.” She reaches out and extracts a letter from its inexpertly tied bundle, tears the envelope apart, and reads from the paper that had once been carefully tucked inside.

Will, It’s snowing today, the kind of big, fluffy flakes that feel like feathers when they land on your bare skin, soft and icy and yet somehow burning at the same time. How can snow feel both cold and hot all at once? It’s cold, so cold, but it burns too. I like things like that, thinking about the mysteries of the world. But these beautiful ideas always bring me back to the one mystery that will always break my heart: how can you be so close that I can feel your love wrapped around me, like a warm blanket or the smell of warm bread just coming out of the oven, but also so far away that I’ll never, ever feel your hand in mine again? Please tell me how to solve this mystery, dearest, because I’m afraid it’s making me cry again. Yours always, Lyra

Pan crawls closer, belly low, placing a tentative paw on Lyra’s knee.

“Oh Pan,” she says, and there’s a quaver in her voice. “It hurts so much. It hurts almost as much as it did when–” When you were torn away from me. When I left you behind. When I broke us apart. All things she feels, but she cannot say, lest she rend her soul into even smaller pieces.

“I know,” he says, and with those two small words, those two breaths of air from her daemon, the pain is a little less. Dropping the letter into the grass she buries both hands in Pan’s soft, thick fur. She feels his jolt of surprise, but then his eyes drift closed in contentment.

It’s good to build bridges sometimes, instead of knocking them down.

“Alright,” Lyra says, pulling away from Pan. He doesn’t pull back, though, but stays with one paw resting on her knee. She flashes him a small smile as thanks for the shared strength, then goes on. “Alright. The letters. We’ll try. And we’ll both believe as hard as we can. That worked all the time when we were kids, it can’t hurt anything now.”

Pan’s rubbing his cheek against her knee now, and she’s remembering him as a kitten. She’d been so small, only three or four, and he’d been a kitten a lot then because he loved the way she laughed when he purred. Any time she was sad he’d leap into her arms and change into a tiny kitten mid-leap, purring madly. Then, once she was laughing, Pan would pounce on invisible things to make her laugh even more.

Digging her hands into the rich, grassy ground in front of her, Lyra says absently, “You did that when you was a kitten, Pan. That cheek rubbing thing. Were a kitten, I mean.” She corrects herself with a small smile, thinking of how much she’s changed since her days running wild in Jordan College. Pulling herself back to the present, to earth and envelopes and expanding hope, she says, “Too bad you can’t purr anymore, I liked that.” Then, realizing what she’d said, she looks up in alarm. “Not that–”

But there’s understanding in Pan’s eyes. “I miss a lot about being able to change,” he says. “I miss making myself big to protect you, or being a tiny moth to whisper in your ear and hide in your hair. I miss flying. And I miss doing things just to be silly, just to see your joy. But it’s good to be settled. To be truly us.”

“Yes,” Lyra says, and for the first time in months she knows she doesn’t have to say anything more. For the first time in… well, for the first time in a very long time, there is no space between them.

“Let me help,” Pan says, breaking the moment. “My paws are clever, I can dig as well as you.”

Lyra grins. “Race you.”

So they start on opposite ends of the space, digging a line of holes until they meet in the middle, laughing and a little bit breathless. It feels so good to laugh with Pan, feels so much like the time before, that for the first time she begins to let herself believe.

They sit and wait for hours that feel like days. Lyra tells Pan it feels like years, but he tells her to quit being so melodramatic. Lyra gasps in mock horror and tells him that she’s never been melodramatic, not ever, and that he should find a job telling stories to children. Pan just huffs, but it’s a fond huff.

Lyra’s hope grows with every breath.

When the sun is at the right place in the sky, when the clock in the tower chimes the proper hour, Lyra moves automatically to sit on the bench and then she reaches for Pan. And he’s there, right there, reaching back for her. “Do you feel them?” It’s the same thing she asks every year, on every visit, and every year she gets the same answer, but she can’t help but ask.

“I–”

Pan leaps down from the bench, agitation clear throughout his body. His ears twitch, his nose quests the air. “She’s here. Kirjava. But she wants–” He flops to the ground in agitation. “Lyra, it’s not like I can ask her to repeat her thoughts! It’s not communication so much as–” But he must see something horrible on Lyra’s face, because he stops, jumps onto her lap, and nuzzles the underside of her jaw. “She’s there. I can feel her. And she wants us to wait.” He worries at her sleeve with his paws, carefully keeping his claws from catching on the material. “It’s never been like this. Never so real. Maybe–”

Lyra finishes the thought for him, her voice a breathy whisper. “Maybe we are magic.”

When it happens, Lyra thinks she must be dreaming. Must be painting her want in the air in front of them. But then there’s a tiny gasp from Pan, so maybe it truly is real.

“Pan, are those–”

“Paper flowers, yes. Do you think our letters–”

“Must have done. And is that–”

“Of course it’s Will’s handwriting. We know it like we know our own. Don’t be silly, Lyra.”

She flushes, because she is being silly; who else would be responding to her letters? Lyra kneels on the ground again, this time taking no heed of the state of her dress or the dirt under her fingernails. She runs a fingertip along the edge of one delicate petal, full of wonder.

Will did this. She and Pan had the inkling, but Will is the magic one. He knows how to turn invisible and how to wake a girl from a magic sleep. He’s the one who always knows what to say, and when it’s best to just be silent and wait. She turns to Pan, ready to let all these thoughts spill out of her…but before even one sound escapes she sees in his eyes that he already knows. So she just blinks her eyes, hard, to keep the tears from spilling out, and goes back to the flower.

“I’m almost afraid to pick it,” she breathes. “But I’ll never make sense of it all without plucking the petals.” So though it feels like breaking a spell, she wraps her fingers around the base of the stem and neatly tears it, as close to the ground as she can manage.

Nothing happens.

Lyra lets out a shaky breath. “I almost expected magic sparkles or something silly,” she admits. Pan nuzzles at her knee again. He did too, then.

It takes less time than she’d expected to arrange the plucked petals into something she can understand; it’s almost like the flower wants to be easy to read. Pure silliness, of course. But the entire day seems to be made of nonsense, so one more thing isn’t too much to believe.

And then she’s reading Will’s words for the first time in… oh, another uncountable length of time. Too long. But she can still hear his voice in her head as she reads.

Lyra, You clever girl. How did you even think to do this? Kirjava is sure it was Pan’s idea, but I’m betting you both thought of it at the same time. The two of you do that a lot. Or you did when we were all together, anyway. I haven’t read all your letters, of course–that will take days, or even weeks, you’ve been writing for a very long time–but I’ve read enough to miss you even more. Honestly, it only took seeing your handwriting on the petals–you’ve improved, but of course I knew it was you. Who else would be mad and brilliant enough to mail letters to another world by burying them in the dirt? Only my Lyra. For now I’ll only answer one letter: it was the first to bloom and though it looked like a lily before I picked it, the words pierced my heart like the thorns of a rose. I too think about the mysteries of the world–not just my world but all the worlds. I talk with Mary sometimes, about everything we saw, about the world of the dead and your world with the giant armored bears and angels and witches and what it’s like to have our daemons when everyone else around us keeps theirs tucked safely inside their bodies. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far: I don’t have many answers, but it’s good to keep asking questions. That’s what science–your philosophy, remember?–is about, really, asking more and more questions even if you don’t get exactly the answers you’re looking for. I may never get to hold your hand again, Lyra. But because you’ve found another mystery I can hear your voice in my head. I can see your handwriting on these paper flowers. And I can hope. Right beside you now, Will p.s. Kirjava can feel you. Or, she can feel Pan, but I think it’s the same thing. I don’t have much practice with daemons, you know.

“Oh,” Lyra says. She should say something more, something witty or important, but all she can think is Will wrote these words. Will is right here.

Every visit…it’s not that she ever doubted; Will is the most steady and trustworthy person Lyra has ever met. But it’s one thing to believe Will is sitting here, only tiny particles–and a whole universe–separating them, and another entirely to know.

She feels Pan’s rough tongue on her cheek and that’s when she realizes she’s crying. Why is she crying when she’s so happy? She scrubs at her eyes, trying to find a calm center; it’s difficult with her racing heart pounding in her ears, drowning out everything else. And then Pan licks the end of her nose, a deliberate and silly thing he used to do to make her laugh; she knows he’s trying to trick her out of her shock but it works and the laughter is good for both of them. Cleansing.

“Oh, Pan.” Lyra has her arms wrapped around him and her face buried in his fur, and her heart is full to bursting. “We did it. It’s impossible, but we must have at least a little magic. Or Will does.”

“Or all of us together. How many things only worked because it was all of us together?”

And this feels right. The magic wouldn’t work without all of them together, gathered in space so thin Pan could feel Kirjava. “Just like–”

“Yes.”

When she’s calm again she pulls the paper and pen and ink out of her bag, the things she’d brought with her just in case. I’m here, she writes. I miss you, she adds. After a moment’s hesitation she writes one more thing.

How do we break all the way through?

written for prompt #15–letters unsent–for @reverseprompts

prompt art by the amazing and talented @dragonpressgraphics

#lirael writes #reverse prompt challenge #his dark materials #will x lyra #lyra belacqua #pantalaimon #will parry #kirjava #letters #magic #emotional hurt/comfort #hdm fic

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bladedhatsandstars · 5 months

Text

About

…the muse

Name: Robert E. O. Speedwagon

Age: varies.

Pronouns: he/him

About:

A tertiary character from Jojo’s Bizarre Adventures parts one and two. Gang leader in the toughest slums in late Victorian period London, near White Chapel. Traveled extensively before settling in the slums to oust the former gang leader and start his own reign with the alliances he made between other gangs, locals, and people he met around the world.

Background:

Born during the late Victorian Period in the slums of London where classism, capitalism, and xenophobia rule (gee, doesn’t that sound familiar?), Robert has seen it all. He’s been in enough scraps, he can tell a good person from a cruel person by the scent of their sweat. As such, he will sometimes antagonize a person to get a better read on them if they are particularly good at hiding their emotions. Even Narcissists can’t get past His nose or survival-honed instincts!

Though marked by a deep, permanent facial scar stretching from the bridge of his nose to his chin, Robert is much more than a seasoned robber and conman. Empathetic to a fault, he worries about those he gets to know, and it’s given him a Robin Hood complex: steal from the rich to feed the poor. Even when he becomes rich himself, he keeps his dream to better the lives of the city’s outcasts, and uses his newfound wealth, and the sudden social class changes it gives him, to start making changes for the better! He employs his friends and other “unemployable” workers, finding their special strengths that others might overlook and gives them the resources they need to pursue their dreams (like Smokey Brown changing from a street thief to a town mayor). He starts humanitarian efforts around the world, rebuilding broken streets like his hometown slum, researching medicine to heal the sick, preserving cultures and land for indigenous people and animals, and… secretly…searching for supernatural threats to all of humanity.

His fear that the whole world will be subjected to the same levels of cruelty he’s grown up with keeps him on his toes his whole life. He will never turn his back on danger to those he cares about… Even if that danger is far too powerful for him to face with his own martial art prowess and weapon proficiency. In the words of an infamous general, “torture will not work” on him. For a man who’s already “seen Hell”, nothing humans do will shake him. The only things this man fears are supernatural forces that can take away everything he loves in an instant.

Depending on the verse and time setting, this muse can be played as a child; a youth traveling on ships and caravans seeing the world; a scrappy young gangster joshing with his best friends and terrorizing the public; a narrating sidekick; a deeply traumatized young man trying to figure out how to keep himself and his friends’ lives together without falling apart himself; a miner following his nose and a dream; an oil baron with No idea how to deal with his new social class or all the people suddenly out to rob him of everything; an oil tycoon settled into his role of dismissing politicians and anyone else trying to use his wealth for their gain and setting his sights on his own dream of helping the world and the less fortunate; a philanthropist and humanitarian trying to save art and culture from WWI and II and deport endangered citizens from the Axil’s clutches; a heartbroken godfather; a desperate grand godfather trying to help raise a boy who reminds him so much of everything he’s loved and lost, including his younger self; a pioneer for human health, technology, habitat preservation, animal rights protection, and researching the supernatural and mythical; a foster father for New York’s future mayor; and a proud great grandfather who dotes on his adopted family, and loves his work, his employees and friends around the world, and still travels extensively despite being an octogenarian.

RP Verses

Canon

❅ Will my heart thaw the frost (Young Speedwagon)

✞ Will my heart endure the frost (old Speedwagon)

Fateverse: Canon until a key event changes the course of Fate

✹ My heart shines on (Jonathan lives)

✩ My heart shall be your guide (Old Speedwagon, with Jonathan and family by his side)

Others:

- Kid verse: Mini Wagon will cut ya. Beware the gremlin munchkin!

AUs for JJBA

- Golden Speedstar: a certain golden haired heir to the Joestar line is cloned from Robert’ and Jonathan’s DNA. Robert gets to be a father and he’s not sure what to think about it.

- Caesar Lives: All canon events happen as written but Caesar survives and gets to torture/guide Joseph

- Swap verse: What if Robert was the nobleman and Jonathan was the gangster?

- Future verse: Robert is sent to the future/ or lives an unusually long time/ or we revamp canon to modern setting. Robert gets to live in an era with cellphones, internet, and Stands.

- Kid verse: can be set in canon time or modern

Other Possible AU ideas:

- medieval fantasy verse with Speedwagon as a winged creature.

- Pirate verse: Captain Speedwagon and his merry men, Ahoy!

- Anthro verse: works for Zootopia, Ducktales, Darkwing Duck, and similar anthropomorphic animal shows

- Animal verse: Horse Wagon anyone? Or Wolf Wagon? Something along the lines of Balto or Survivors could work. I have a Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron AU

Other ideas? Feel free to plot with me!

…the mun

Name: Lupineleigh aka Tempest Loupnoir

Age: 21+

Pronouns: she/her

My muse does cuss but the mun prefers to avoid writing it out so some curse words may be censored. You do not need to censor yourself. If I’m feeling up to a good old fashioned Faff, I’ll look up words for him to use that fit the timeframe but I may lack the energy for research. If you have references I can refer to, let me know. I’m happy to learn and grow as a writer!

I use an outdated mobile app for responses so fonts, special characters, reaction images, response trimming, and hiding long posts will be difficult for me. I’ve been on here since 2013 and I’m Still figuring this confounded site out! 😆

I might respond in seconds, or I might take a week to respond, depending on the amount of energy I need to provide the response. Response lengths vary. I might write multiple paragraphs. I may write one sentence. My muse is very emotionally reactive with a hyperactive mind, intrusive thoughts, and keen senses, so what might fill up paragraphs on the page could happen in a second in real time. Just like JJBA.

My DMs are open, so feel free to chat or discuss plots with me.

Word of Note: This should go without saying but Mun ≠ Muse. We don’t even speak the same English language! I only know 21st century American English. Just because I like this character, that does not mean I condone everything he does or make the same choices. My interpretation is for my personal enjoyment and may not be one you like. That’s okay! There are other rpers or even other characters that I play that you might enjoy more. We’re all here to have fun, so let’s get started, shall we?

Disclaimer:

There is the usual gore and violence triggers that comes with watching JJBA. They will not be tagged unless requested. Heavier themes like child abuse or death will be tagged as #tw: x and placed under a cut.

#About #he’s morally gray but he’s innately kind and determined #Speedwagon still changed his social status in the SBR verse without Joestar influence. This man is going places #long post #Speedwagon rper #Speedwagon muse

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my-life-literally · 1 year

Text

stage

I just have to get some negative thoughts out.

First off, I am not depressed. Ok...so...

1. My brother described himself as the most stable sibling, and referred to my depression as instability.

- I feel bad because I sat my brother and sister down once and acknowledge that it must have been hard to watch me go through that. I think I said I was sorry if I caused them to worry. My brother said it was ok, my sister said I was selfish. Ok. that was years ago. I don’t think I would have done that if I had broken a bone. And I don’t think my brother would compare his apparent stability to mine, if I had a broken bone. It really hurts my feelings that both of my siblings characterize me as problematic in some way.

2. I feel like, I am veering into a role in a lot of brown families, of the oldest, unmarried, childless daughter becoming the eventual caregiver to her parents. My brother is planning to move away. And my sister had shown that she doesn’t care about anyone but herself.

3. I have isolated myself. I am afraid that I have a hard time making and keeping friends. Everyone has at least one person, but my one person has changed forever. I feel annoyed by the people that like me, and far away from the people I like. So, I think for the first time in my life, I feel lonely. I love my own company. But after my last relationship, I have felt actually lonely.

4. I feel like it’s all on me. It’s liberating, and I am afraid sometimes. Honestly the thing that is hurting me the most is that my siblings don’t see a lot of things. My family doesn’t see a lot of things. I feel very on my own.

- No one in my life knows I was sexually assaulted in 2016 or in my last relationship. Except my counsellor.

-No one really knows me. And I don’t trust anyone.

5. I am learning how much trauma I have gone through. And that so many things that I thought were not normal, and then thought was normal, is in fact not normal.

6. I don’t feel strong enough to be in a relationship. Like I am not one of those girls who can demand things, and snap fingers. I used to be. When I thought it was empowering and cute. But now I realize that men hold treatment like that against women. And I don’t want to be that type of woman. I don’t want to demand. Or explain. I want to show up respectfully and be respected. I did that, and it didn’t stick. It was too late. They already hated me, long before I got there.

I guess thats all - I thought more was weighting on my, but it’s mostly the family stuff. Some of these things I can change, like not isolating myself so much. One woman who I wanted to be friends with told me that she felt intimidated by this group we were apart of and she dropped off. She said she felt “less educated.” And that she didn’t have things together. I felt so sad and bad. LIke, girl, none of us do. But then I think maybe she just didn’t like me. Like my sister. Maybe...I just know less and less how to related to people. Women. And Men.

I feel like I was raised in a cult, but I wasn’t. And I acted normal to the world. But behind the curtain there was all kinds of abuse. Abuse is spirit hacking. Hacking into our spirits.

Oh yeah, and I wanted to get a dog. And my dad was saying it’s a lot of work. And I felt sad because my sister gets a dog, a husband, a family and I can’t have one damn thing. Except work. Except making money. My family have always deterred me from love. Love in anyone else aside from them. I get why my sister struck out like she did. There is no choice. It’s family or not. There is not bridge between my family and the outside world. The only things between my family and the outside world is a stage.

I am going to buy my own place and get a dog. I may even get a dog before that.

#everything L.#stage

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moonsdancer · 2 years

Text

styling / costuming in arcane

I think we've all marveled at the art in Arcane, and how every character is so meticulously and wonderfully designed and brought to life. While almost all the characters have something really cool to note in terms of their 'look' and overall design, I think general consensus is that Mel has some of the best / most aesthetically delightful character design i.e. SHE'S HOT and we are all aware. So I was gonna talk about that because of just how much goes into her. But then also got carried away talking about a few of my other fave style notes.

Arcane is so good about using costuming to build character:

silco

Silco wouldn't have half his menacing swagger without those sleek, well-tailored waistcoats, cravats, and the occasional showy frock coat he sometimes wears.

Given his upbringing and how almost everyone else in his circles dresses, his clothing feels like such a statement as well as a costume. He dresses in clothes somewhat similar to a Piltovan gentleman, and he's really deliberate with it. I read it as a statement: I may have clawed my way up from the dirt but I can play the dandy, the gentleman, and look better doing it, too.

It makes me want fic about a younger Silco, the boy who resurrected from the brackish waters of Zaun, and how he built that boy into the man he becomes -- and why he chooses to dress the way he does. If someone has written this, do link.

His clothes really, really set him apart from Vander, Benzo, Sevika. Even fellow chembarons like Finn don't dress like he does. There's rarely a hair out of place so moments where his hair flops over his forehead, when he's agitated or angry or dying, are always kind of striking.

He likes fine, well-crafted things. No sloppy Henleys or ill-fitting cargo pants for this guy, lol, Vander no shade to your hot dad gear. And perhaps for someone who grew up seeing the wealth, power and privilege of the top city, his clothing choices speak to that desire for that power or to project it. Which probably says interesting things about Silco's approach to ~revolutionary~ change and his vision of the Zaun he wants to create.

His scars are important too. But would need a post. The fact that he wears a bit of foundation/powder to cover them up when he goes topside fascinates me.

But there's always the hint of eccentricity which I love and menace, underscored by his colour palette (dark greys, black, dark reds, I think I recall a dark, forest green and maybe dark blues, with only accents and flourishes of metallic gold, a silvery-white).

Got to love how on the bridge scene his popped collar is absolutely bigger than Jayce's, it's a bit crass, I think, and that's deliberate because it shows that while he's good at wearing a gentleman's clothes, he's still a bit other.

jayce

Post-time jump Jayce's penchant for that stylish and showy frock coat with the gold and scarlet epaulettes and the Talis House sigil is a clever way of showing us just how far he's come up in the world, and also emphasizes that he has dandyish but charming showman tendencies. He's become Piltover's resident golden boy, giving out interviews and speeches, being the main attraction at any party he graces, having people swooning over him, his face plastered all over air cruisers.

And he loves it. This needs to be emphasised. He LOVES IT. Even when he's self-deprecating about it or has some discomfort. This man was drinking from a mug with his own face on it, there's arrogance to him, ambition, selfishness that I just kind of enjoy. It's not like he got the love for extravagant clothes from Ximena who we see in mostly matronly dark colours. I read/watched his lore and I feel like Arcane did a great job of bringing in some of his classic traits but in such a way that he's not insufferable and there's more complexity to him.

Also, someone pointed out that his main colour palette (gold, white, black w/red) and the epaulettes kind of mirror Mel's, so he and his lover match, which is so cute, I gave myself diabetes.

Also, could be interesting to think about Jayce and class, because he wasn't poor or even working class. His family was from a lower house and had some wealth and renown given their inventions. But he wasn't from a mercantile clan like the Kirramans either by any means. He's always been ambitious, he's always been driven by innovation, progress etc. He wants to help people and make Hextech accessible but he becomes one of the most effectively corrupt people on the show, lol. So he sits oddly, is all. And it's awesome.

We know from his childhood drawings that he fancied himself a bit of a hammer-wielding hero or warrior. So there's also something reminiscent of military/navy uniforms with this coat, like an 18th century soldier or the kind pteruges you'd see warriors wearing in old Greco-Roman paintings. It's fun to think of a young nerdy Jayce, whose greatest power was his brain, fantasizing about building big ass weapons and becoming this idealized version of a ~warrior~ defending ~tomorrow~. Only when he's confronted with a small piece of the reality of what that would mean i.e. blood, gore, death is he kind of horrified (likely not for long lol).

His clothing also serves to set him apart from Viktor, who still mostly dresses the same as he did pre-time jump, has very little interest in his appearance and that's only partly because he's chronically ill and wholly focused on finding a cure (like I'm sure he gets money for co-inventing Hexgates and other software, he's definitely not broke, one assumes), never came from a wealthy background, nor does he have much interest in public life (or really any life beyond Hextech and finding a way to survive). They're on very different paths.

ambessa

The moment we see Ambessa, we're aware she's a warrior and of her high status. She wears reinforced leather armour, gauntlets, heavy boots, she has a cape with some kind of predatory animal fur on it.

Her signature colours are red (blood), grey-silver-slate (armour). There's nothing soft or yielding about her, reinforced by how proudly she wears her scars, the badges of every war she's fought, and every victory -- since she's still standing and swaggering (never walking). Notice, in her arrival scene, Elora is also wearing those colours, which we can then assume are Medarda colours. Even Mel is wearing a rare completely black dress (usually all her clothes have at least accents of white on them) in her signature style.

She wears red lipstick, a bloody gash of a smile. Her hair is like a lion's mane. And we know she 100% bites.

mel

Mel's styling choices become that much more interesting once we meet Ambessa and see how other Noxians dress, and they were already plenty interesting. It becomes clearer how much precision and thought Mel (and the person who designed her) puts into her ensembles, and how much they're almost a rebellion against everything that the Medardas represent and the kind of power they project to the world, and assertion of her own.

She favours ivory and pearly whites, black and gold as her colour palette. All of her dresses are made of ultra-feminine, soft, silky, gauzy materials that move with her body, so it always looks like she's gliding or slinking rather than just trudging, marching, walking about.There’s a sensuality and an edge to her outfits—the keyhole cut-outs, the low backs, the fitted bodices with deceptively modest lacy necklines overlaying them, the draped skirts with thigh-high slits. I’ve written at length about what kind of underwear she’d need to wear under these clothes, because, believe me, I’ve thought about it a lot.

Mel absolutely understands the power she holds in the clothes she chooses to wear, and she wields that power effortlessly. Her clothes are deeply representative of the power she wants to cultivate and project. Her clothes are as much a statement and costume as Silco’s are.

Mel, the artist, comes through in her clothing as well for me. Every ensemble is a masterpiece, hell, she’s a masterpiece, so there’s that. But also, there’s these little things like her indigo eyeshadow, the jewellery woven through her hair and the earrings. The detached sleeves she sometimes wears (gloves too) that feel almost romantic and like a call-back to what she wore as a child.

Her hair is rarely ever out of place, and so when we do see her getting unraveled physically (Jayce's big mouth is good for some things, and those things include cunning linguistics), it serves to underscore the ways in which Jayce is sneaking passed her metaphorical / emotional armour.

The gold is an undeniable symbol of her status and wealth. But gold also denotes things like enlightenment, higher ideals, purity because it’s such a precious metal. Also watch @iamnowafinnsimp’s video expanding on some of these ideas.

As a child, she wore clothes reminiscent of Shuriman or Solari style/symbols. We aren’t really told what it means but my personal head canon is that her father may have hailed from one of those peoples. Some of the design carries through into her adulthood, obviously, in the colour palette, potentially the armour. There are also a few shots of her just staring at the sunset that made me wonder….

THE ARMOUR. It’s interesting to note that all of her outfits are designed to frame and show her armour. She doesn’t wish to hide it. Many of us assumed this was jewellery or tattoos at first, much like probably everyone does in-show verse as well. My current personal head canon is that the armour is actually fused to her body or under her skin (including the gold freckles), so perhaps there was ferromancy involved, have written about it at length here. Either way, it’s another revelation of her cunning and self-preservation. She projects this soft yet extravagant, seductive elegance and yet she’s running around with possibly magic armour and may in fact be a walking weapon. Mel despises war, but she’s not an idiot. She is prepared. Maybe that’s the Noxian in her, or the Solari/Shuriman. Or perhaps it’s her embodying what it means to be both the fox and the wolf subtly, but I love it.

Her only concession to her family clothing-wise is wearing the Medarda ring. This again is an important piece of characterisation because despite being the banished, disgraced one, a part of her still loved them and maybe even wanted to be taken back into the fold. And it’s why her ultimate rejection of that by removing the ring is so impactful.

It’s important to note that she doesn’t dress like anyone else on the show. No one. Not like anyone in Piltovan society—I scoured that rooftop party and street scenes to see what everyone was wearing. Not like Noxian Medardas with their armour and leathers. And certainly not like anyone in the undercity. She’s a singularity. And she knows that. It’s a part of her power, it’s part of what makes her really ridiculously attractive, and why I’m obsessed with her.

#silco #jayce talis #jayce arcane #mel medarda #ambessa medarda #viktor arcane #arcane #league of legends #i just like looking at clothes tbh #arcane meta

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Text

3 hearts broken

I did an angst thing again oops also not proof read double oops

summary: an argument between you and tom, except it takes him hurting someone else for you to loose it

warnings: alot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) idk anything else except commitment issues?

////////////////////////////////////////////

It was an argument you and your boyfriend regularly had. In fact, it was the only argument the two of you ever had. And especially recently, one that Tom seemed to want to have every day. It didn’t matter where you were on set; in the rental home; out for dinner. Or like now… in the airport lounge.

You were sitting across from each other in a semi-private booth. Tom in his joggers and a burgundy hoodie, you in your black leggings and an oversized tee that actually belonged to your boyfriend. The rest of the place was almost deserted, given the late-night time of the flight. It was probably why Tom felt so comfortable bringing up this touchy subject in a public place.

You were both way past overtired too, owing to the end of a gruelling shoot. All you wanted was to get back to London and get into your own bed. Without an unnecessary fight with Tom.

Unfortunately for you, when you had naively said those exact words, Tom’s overtired brain skipped straight to it being a personal attack.

“I don’t see why you can’t commit to moving in Y/n! We practically live together for filming anyway so-“

“I love you Tom, more than I could ever express. I just… I can’t do this yet. I need… more-“

“More time, I know.” He grumbled, already standing and slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder - as the flight’s gate was announced by the intercom. Had he not already turned his back and started heading along the hallway, you would’ve tried to protest and calm him down. But thanks to his urgency to get away from you… all you could do was sigh. Slumping back against the seat before hauling yourself up and grabbing the bags - that he had helped you with on the way in.

No doubt this would be a long flight.

That it was. Tom had been maturely giving you the silent treatment at the gate, as you were boarding, and finding you seats. You were both in first class, so you had adjacent little pods with a little partition in the middle. It’s standard position was to be lowered however, before you’d even been able to settle into your window seat, Tom had already switched to button to have it slowly slide up.

Real fucking mature.

Thinking he just needed some time to cool off, you rolled your eyes but let him be. Even though you were such a frequent flier, you were terrible at getting any sleep on them. Tom knew this, knew how much you disliked the idea of being hurtling through the air in a tin can. Usually, he’d be holding your hand, entertaining you by watching a movie and providing a shit commentary over the top. Sometimes, when you were both as exhausted as right now, he’d even slide into your chair, having you perch on top of him so you could fall asleep listening to his heartbeat in his chest. Now though? He refused to acknowledge your existence.

Tom never had such issues flying, he was like a switch that could just choose to fall asleep at any and every point. Which is perhaps why it shocked you to see him still wide awake, staring angrily at the corner of his pod when you went to the loo, hours later. Thinking it was time for a peace offering, on the return to your seat you made eye contact and began to smile softly at him. However, that plan lasted for all of two seconds, since as soon as he realised you had seen him staring, Tom instantly shut his eyes - playing asleep.

He really was being particularly stubborn tonight.

By the time the plane landed, he’d still refused to say anything - and it was starting to really piss you off too. You’d tried to be mature, tried to offer the metaphorical olive branch and he had quite literally thrown it back in your face. So by the time you were being escorted off the plane (first because you were first class), you hung back from your boyfriend, wanting to have your own space.

Which was exactly why you didn’t want to give up your own apartment yet!

The two of you walked across the bridge into the terminal with a good 8 metres between each other. Tom didn’t bother to turn round and check on you, taking purposeful steps as though he wanted to get away.

Thankfully the terminal was quiet, probably due to the ungodly hour in the morning you’d landed at. The halls echoed only with your and Toms footsteps, the echo exaggerating just how far away you felt from him at this point. Still, Tom hadn’t acknowledged your existence, or anyone elses for that matter - the pair of you almost got to baggage reclaim before seeing any other humans.

And that is where it all went wrong.

It was typical, an otherwise empty airport except for you, Tom and a family with 2 girls. 2 teenage girls. 2 teen girls whose eyes widened to almost comical levels at the sight of your boyfriend. You’d seen them from a mile away, but from Tom’s reaction to them - he clearly hadn’t.

In fact, you were such a distance away you couldn’t exactly hear the exchange. But what you saw, had your heart in your mouth.

The girls ran over from the seats their whole family were sitting in, squealing at Tom with that overcited little jump you’d seen so often. Instead of Tom turning to them and entertaining them with small talk and a photo or two - he did the opposite. If anything, he quickened his cadence, looked as though he waved the girls off without muttering two words.

And maybe there was a reason. Maybe they had shouted something really rude at him - but fuck, the chances were slim. One looked ten, and one looked a couple of years older - as you approached, you saw the dejected and shocked faces melt into ones of intense disappointment. The eldest turned and hugged the younger, whose chest appeared to be shaking in a way that meant only one thing. Tom had made her cry.

Just as both the mother and father stood up to rush to the girls, you matched their hurried steps - getting their first.

“Hi, excuse me… “

You felt really awkward but knew you had to do something for these poor girls. And quite possibly for Toms career too. “Are you guys okay?” It took a second or two, but the girls clearly both recognised you too (thank god), throwing nervous looks at each other.

“Are yo-you Y/n?” The younger one asked, bright eyes glazed in tears which broke your heart to see.

“Yeh-yeh I am, what are your names?” You knelt, smiling warmly at the girls, who seemed to chirp up a bit.

“I’m Tima” The eldest spoke first before nudging the other to speak. You waited patiently till the little girl had wiped her eyes before replying.

“I’m Azara.”

“Wow, you’ve both got very beautiful names. Where are you both headin-“

“Can I ask you a question!?” Litte Azara burst out, interrupting you, but in the cutest and sweetest way. You just laughed and said of course, as she twiddled with her thumbs nervously.

“How big is the biggest T-rex?” Her little eyes were so curious and you had to suppress a giggle, seeing how serious it was.

Of course, the T-Rexs in Jurassic world (one of your movies) were all CGI. But Azara didn’t have to know that.

“Oh, they are bigger thanthan the tallest trees you’ve ever seen!”

You carried on your little chat with the girls for five or so minutes, laughing with them and exchanging soft nods with their parents too - who seemed appreciative of your time. Eventually, though, it was the dad who pulled time on the exchange, signalling that the girls had taken up enough of your time. As you stood up, Tima spoke up - after being relatively withdrawn from the conversation.

“You’re friends with Tom Holland right?” You nodded, subconsciously biting your lip to see what she would say. “Can you tell him sorry for bothering him, it’s just Azara was excited, we only wanted to say hi.”

Yeh, there was absolutely no way these incredibly sweet girls did anything to Tom. He was just being a knob.

“Hey, it’s not your fault at all. We’ve just had a really, really long flight, and he’s in a bit of a mood at me - I’m so sorry that he let it out on you.”

That explanation seemed to satisfy Tima with a nod, and with some final hugs you bid the girls both farewell. By this point, the rest of your plane had caught up along the corridors, so it was busier, and you had to fight against the small crowd to get through the airport as quickly as possible. Because you were seething with rage for Tom and could not wait to tell him exactly what those poor girls thought of him.

Unsurprisingly Tom had chosen not to wait for you in the airport at all, instead already hiding inside the blacked-out windows of the 4x4 waiting at the collection point. You marched up to that car angry to the point you thought the whole airport would notice. Yanking the door so hard you were surprised you did no damage to it, you threw your bags in - momentarily ignoring the sight of Tom huddled into a corner, staring at his phone with AirPods in.

But once you slammed the door shut and the driver started the car, you let yourself go.

“Who the fuck do you think you are!”

“Y/n can we just leave it for- “

“You made 2 girls cry!!! You were so self-absorbed in your temper tantrum that you made 2 teenage girls cry. You proud of yourself?”

This time he did look at you, eyes wide and confused - clearly not understanding. So you continued - laying it out for him.

“Those two girls you waved off because you were so busy running away from me? Well the youngest one cried and then the eldest didn’t speak and when she did it was only to ask me to apologise to you. You’re a fucking dickhead!”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Oh god, that makes it all better. You didn’t mean to make them cry on purpose, so it’s fine! God if you’d only said I’d-“

“Fuck off Y/n you’re not being fair, cut the sarcasm.”

“I’m not being fair?!? Because I’m the bad person in this situation, right? I just saved you from a very, very bad headline tomorrow morning because you were too busy giving me the silent treatment.”

“Yeah, well, your the one who doesn’t seem to give a damn about me!”

You scoffed hard at his words, air trapped in your throat that now felt completely stuck. How could he say that? How could he even think that?

As much as you hated showing it, you felt your eyes well up with tears. Because who the fuck did he think he was.

“Now that, that is so unfair. You know exactly my history and why I don’t want to move in yet AND you know just how much I fucking love you. So don’t you dare.”

“You're not convincing anyone.” He spoke quieter, but the venom behind his tone was still there. As the first tear escaped over your bottom lashes, you knocked on the partition to the driver and asked him, in no uncertain terms, to pull over.

“Congrats Tom. That’s three women you’ve broken the hearts of in 20 minutes. Must be some sort of a record.”

And with that you slammed the door shut, abandoned on the side of the road somewhere within Heathrow.

?a part 2? idk where id go from here aha

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala

#tom x reader #tom holland fic #tomholland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #famous!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland x actress!reader

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neon-junkie · 3 years

Text

Five-oh-Thirst

Summary: The 501st boys have finally reached their breaking point; they just HAVE to have you, and Jesse makes it his mission to recruit you into their shenanigans. After a night out at 79's, you're spoilt by a handful of Troopers, and a Captain who's late to the party.

Pairing: Female Jedi Reader x Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, Hardcase, Dogma & Tup

Word count: 12k

Tags: Shameless smut, Gangbang, Drinking, Double penetration, Praise kink, Voyeurism, Military names, Aftercare, Morning after pill.

Notes: this is so fucking slutty and i loved writing every second of it >:) sorry if some of the boys are a little OOC, im still new to writing these hotties. Tumblrs formatting is shite, so i’d suggest reading this on AO3 (under the same username.)

To say that you're 'close' with the 501st is an understatement. Close isn't quite the word you could use to describe the bond you have with this boisterous bunch of clones. You may be their Commander, but you're also a friend, and soon to be a lover. You've had your fair share of drunken nights out with the lot, getting rowdy in 79's, dragging each other's asses home, falling asleep in cuddle piles in their barracks. Yes, you shouldn't be mingling like this with your squad, but it's hard to not get so attached.

Anakin has warned you over and over about both your attachment and feelings, but you've seen the way he talks to them, Rex specifically. Anakin has let his emotions lead him whenever his men are hurt or in danger, and maybe that's why he always gives you a wink during his lectures. He knows what it's like, and he's only attempting to follow the Jedi code, teaching you in the process.

Speaking of Jedi codes, apparently rocking up to the Jedi cruiser bridge with a cup of caf in hand is something to be frowned upon. What? you're tired, and it's not like Anakin has asked his men to get him a cup of caf before. Obi-wan has done this exact same thing also! So, because you're a Padawan, you're not allowed to do it? Sheesh. The hypocrisy.

Despite Anakins disproving glare, the briefing continues flawlessly, as does the mission. Luck must have been on your side, or the force, depending on what you believe in. The Separatists crawled away with their tails between their legs, leaving the planet Naboo alone once more.

A course is set for Coruscant, and the Jedi cruiser launches into hyperspace, taking roughly seven hours to return home. That time is yours to do as you please, and you decide that a nap is in order.

Walking to your quarters takes a good ten minutes, seeing as how large this cruiser is. You travel down an array of corridors, having Troopers stop and salute you as you pass. It's a touching gesture, but sometimes you hate being the centre of attention. You understand that, to the clones, it's a sign of respect, one that they hold dearest in their hearts; you tried to get them to stop once, and only insulted them in the process, so you swiftly gave up and let them continue.

One Trooper in particular calls out your name from behind, and you rotate to see ARC Trooper Jesse approaching, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his other hand salutes you as he approaches. "Commander, do you have a minute?"

"For you, Jesse? Always," you say with a smile.

That smile is mirrored right back at you, and Jesse gestures for you to step down a quiet corridor to talk in private. He doesn't speak up at first, scratching the back of his neck nervously, but you allow him to take his time. Whatever's on the tip of his tongue must be really important.

"Commander, this is a... strange request to make," Jesse begins, and looks for your approval before continuing.

"Go on."

"Well, the boys and I were talking... and uh, you know how we like to de-stress by going to 79's?" Jesse mutters, keeping his voice quiet.

"Yes?" you question, nodding at the same time.

"And by de-stress, we like to... you know, pick up women there," Jesse shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he speaks.

Something in your gut informs you that you know what's coming next, and it explains why Jesse is stalling his request so much. You continue nodding as he speaks, squinting your eyes ever so slightly, suspicious of where this is heading.

"We've been uh, wanting to invite... you along, but we're not sure if that follows your erm, codes?" Jesse pulls the most panicked expression as he finally spits the words out. You think you know what he's asking, but you'll need to dig a little deeper, just to be certain.

"Going to 79's in the first place is against my Code... I think?" you reply, uncertain on what the Jedi code says about nightclubs and getting drunk with clones. "I thought you would know by now that I bend the rules in my favour, without others knowing, of course."

"Oh, that's a relief," Jesse sighs, and removes his hand from his neck. "I mean, you shouldn't, but we all break some rules here and there, don't we?"

"Yeah," you say with a shrug. "What exactly are you asking from me, Jesse? Be clear with your words, Trooper," you order in a teasing manner, noticing how the tip of Jesse's ears turn pink at your words.

"How about... the next time we all go out for drinks, we... take you back instead of some random woman?"

Oh.

There's a heated knot in your stomach, twisting and turning at the thought of sleeping not only with Jesse, but a handful of men. They're all attractive in their own unique ways, and you applaud them for how they create their individuality, through hairstyles, facial hair, and tattoo's. Not only does it make them easier to identity, but it really helps express their personality, and how they may act on the battlefield.

And the thought of having a bunch of these handsome men taking care of you? Who would say no to that?

"Who do you mean by 'we'?" you question out of curiosity.

"Uh, well, it depends on who comes out with us. I mean, all the boys have spoken about it, and all of them are down," Jesse shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck once more.

They've spoken about this? All of them? You must be quite the catch.

"Why? Is there someone you want to avoid?" Jesse then questions, and you instantly shake your head in response.

"No, I'm just curious. I... didn't know you all felt that way towards me," you sheepishly reply, and Jesse flashes you a concerned expression.

"You're kidding me, right? Have you noticed the way we all speak to you? The way we are around you? Even General Skywalker has told us multiple times to cool it," Jesse nervously laughs, clutching his helmet tighter.

You laugh with him, your mind replaying many incidents where the boys have let it slip. Kix has made multiple inappropriate jokes as he's been patching you up. Hardcase is always offering his lap as a seat whenever you're at 79's, and that's an offer that you may need to finally take up. Dogma will attempt to follow the code, but you've caught him staring at your ass more than once. Fives is Fives, and that's all that needs to be said. And Tup is too shy to make any bold moves, but you can tell he has a soft spot for you, as his face turns bright red whenever you're within ten feet of him.

As for Rex and Jesse, they flirt when it's appropriate, meaning when they're not in earshot of General Skywalker.

"Now that you mention it..." your words trailing off, thinking about all those moments.

"See," Jesse points. "So, are you in?" he questions, scrunching his face up in fear of rejection.

"As long as you boys can share," you instruct, knowing what they're like. "I'm in."

Jesse fist pumps the air as he lets out a "yesss!" but swiftly attempts to cool it, trying to not let his excitement burst. "I'll let the men know. We were planning on heading out tonight?" Jesse offers.

"I'll be there," you smile. "Make sure you and your men look good for me, Trooper," you playfully order.

"Of course, Commander," Jesse nods, and allows you to end the conversation there. If you're going out later, then you definitely need that nap right now. Jesse lands a cheeky slap on your bum as you turn to walk off, and you flash him a smile over your shoulder, heading down the corridor to your quarters.

----------

Could this be considered a date? or just an arranged hookup with a bunch of men? Either way, you're using the night as an excuse to dress up, not that you need an excuse to begin with.

That nap does wonders for you, although it could be considered more of a sleep, since as you woke up, you were arriving back on Coruscant. It's mid-afternoon, giving you plenty of time to get ready for tonight. Upon arrival, you take a trip downtown to purchase something to wear for tonight, and you have just the right outfit in mind.

The dress is ever-so-slightly out of your price range, but you know it'll be worth it. The 501st take pride in their colour, blue, and you know their jaws will drop when they see you in their colour. The dress fits the way you like it, bold and flashy, enough to turn more than your legion's heads. You pair the dress with some white heels and a bag, Trooper colours all around; you're really milking it, but Maker, don't you look good!

Hours later and you're ready for tonight, checking yourself out in your apartment mirror. You're fortunate to have your own place outside of the Jedi temple; it's tiny and run down, but enough to get you away whenever you need it. Sadly, it's far too small to fit a handful of clones in, so the barracks will have to do.

One taxi later, and you're outside 79's, queueing up to enter the busy club. Happy hour has just begun as you enter, and you remove the comlink from your bag, pressing a button to inform your men that you've arrived.

Nervously, you gaze around the club, ignoring the random sets of eyes on you. You're only after one group of men, and thankfully, one of them approaches you.

"Commander?" Kix calls out. As you turn to look at him, his face lights up, gesturing to the outfit you're wearing. "Oh, Commander!" Kix sighs, gawking over the sight of you in his legions colours.

"Not too much?" you question, gesturing to the outfit.

"No, it's just right," Kix sighs yet again. "And I like the white heels and bag, nice touch!"

Of course Kix has noticed those minor details.

"Where are the others?" you question, and Kix offers you his arm in response. You take it, following Kix through the club, eventually coming across a cosy booth, full to the brim with your boys.

Kix's reaction to your outfit was sweet and wholesome, something you'd expect from him. Fives on the other hand is hollering like a dog as you approach, checking you out with a whistle, doing everything he can to hype you up. "Commander," he purrs, and wraps an arm around your waist. "Here for me?" he jokingly questions, making you laugh at his forwardness.

"She came here for all of us!" Dogma butts in, swatting at Fives's hand around your waist.

"Oh, so you are joining in, Dogma? I didn't think you were one to break the rules," Fives bites back, and gestures for you to take a seat as he talks.

"This is different, Fives," Dogma mutters. You zone out to their bickering as you shuffle around the booth, finding a seat between Hardcase and Tup.

Tup, like the sweetheart he is, quietly tells you "you look beautiful," with flushed cheeks. Only for Hardcase to add "yeah, you look hot!"

It's hard to believe that these men are all clones. Their reactions are so vast, but they all express the same thing - you look good, and no doubt, they're going to be all over you tonight. They look just as good as you do, maybe even better; they've dressed up for tonight, sporting fine button-up shirts, all of them looking clean and tidy, for once, not covered in dirt from the battlefield.

Jesse offers to buy your first round, and insists that you stay at the booth with the others. He probably fears that another batch of clones will latch onto you the second you stand up. Are the men in here aware that you're a Jedi? Or do they assume you're some poor, unfortunate soul, who's been sucked into spending the night with this bunch? You're hoping for the second assumption, as the last thing you want is some tattle-tale clone recognizing you and ratting you out to the Jedi order.

Jesse returns with your drink and a round of shots, and so, the night begins. The shot is surprisingly nice, as is your drink, but the next set of shots? Eh, not so much. It seems that the more you drink, the worst the shots taste, and you have to turn down the fourth one. You're not going to be standing if you continue chugging drinks at this rate; how your men can drink like this is beyond you.

Dogma and Tup have relaxed in their own way, joining in the conversation every so often, although Dogma is still being teased for 'breaking so many rules.' Hardcase and Fives are as loud as each other, and are currently attempting to impress you through a series of arm wrestling matches. Jesse seems content, on a nice, tipsy level, and has had his eyes on you all night. Kix is simply vibing, not visibly drunk, but bubblier than usual.

You continue peering around, questioning who's missing, and then it suddenly dawns on you.

"Wait a minute! Where's Rex?" you yelp, noticing the lack of a certain blonde clone.

"You've got all of us here, and the only man on your mind is the Captain?" Fives tuts, breaking his concentration from the arm wrestling match. Hardcase takes up the opportunity to take victory, slamming Fives's hand down onto the table.

"Yet again, I am victorious!" Hardcase states, and Fives sputters at his remark.

"That's not fair! Our Commander was asking us a question," Fives argues, and the pair begin bickering between themselves.

You decide to intervene, turning to Hardcase and asking "so, what would you like as your prize?"

Your question is met with a sea of "oooh!"'s and "pick something good, Hardcase!" His face alone is priceless, his emotions switching between shocked, flustered, and cheeky. Hardcase then trails into thought, and after barely any thinking time, he settles on his prize. "For you to finally take up my offer and sit on my lap, sweetheart," he replies, patting his thighs as he talks.

A smirk escapes your lips as you stand, shuffling over to sit on the tattooed clones lap. Hands find their way to your waist, and you're almost certain that Hardcase is purring as he cuddles up to you.

"How is she?" Kix questions, as if you're not sitting in earshot of his question.

"Comfiest ass in the galaxy," Hardcase hums, pulling you higher onto his lap as he speaks. He settles his chin on your shoulder, fine stubble pressed against your skin, and from the expressions of those around you, you can tell that they're all jealous. They'll have their time with you eventually, whether it's here, or at the barracks later. The night is still young.

"My turn," Dogma announces out of nowhere, shuffling out of the booth. None of you have any idea what he's on about, until he turns to you and asks "what are you drinking, Commander?"

You tell him your order, followed up with "and stop calling me Commander! We're not at work, you don't need to call me that."

Dogma apologizes with a soft laugh before making his way over to the bar, followed by Jesse and Kix.

"Is it bad that I kinda like calling you it?" Fives questions, and you know exactly what he's implying.

"The only places you should be calling me Commander is on the battlefield, and in the bedroom," you purr, and you're met with a fawning, lustful expression from Fives, who is more than satisfied at your answer.

"Yes, Ma'am," he purrs back, and you take a mental note for later.

"You know, none of you answered my question," you begin, and the rest of the clones look at you in confusion. "Where is Rex?"

"He said he's busy with a meeting, and that he'll meet us at the barracks later," Fives explains, softly shrugging as he speaks. In Fives' eyes, that means one there's one less clone for you to give your attention to, meaning more for him.

"That's a shame," you sigh. The thought of Rex being here right now is a curious topic on your mind; would he attempt to maintain his high-ranking status, remaining professional despite knowing what's going to happen later? Or would he throw all of that out of the window, taking the first opportunity to straddle you onto his hips and remind his men who's in charge?

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you whilst the Captain's gone," Hardcase smugly comments, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he eyes you up.

Hardcase stays true to his word, as do the rest of your men. Dogma, Jesse, and Kix return shortly after with the next round of drinks, and lo-and-behold, more shots. You have entered the stage of tipsy, sitting on the drunken fence by the time you finish your drink. Hardcase offers to buy the next round, but you brush him off, insisting that it's your turn. "Since you're all taking care of me, the least I can do is return the favour," you explain, and a few of the men chuckle at your reasoning.

Tup, the sweetheart that he is, helps you up and over to the bar. You're able to walk, even in these heels, but you know that Tup's presence is actually a way of telling others clones that you're already taken for. To your surprise, his hand settles around your waist as you prop yourself up against the bar top, waiting for somebody to come and serve you.

"How's your night going?" Tup questions. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, are you?" you reply with a nod, curling up into Tup's side.

"Mhm," Tup nods in agreement. "I just need a few more drinks down me," he adds, and you understand how he feels. If you weren't the centre of attention, then you'd be just as quiet as Tup is, shying away nervously in the cornerless booth.

"Let me get one for you," you offer, and Tup takes you up on it.

"Thank you, Comma- I mean, uh, love." Tup's expression turns sour, blushing at his fumbled reply. You brush the nerves off him by placing a kiss on his cheek, and watch in amazement as his face begins turning a different shade of red.

Tup mutters something to you, and you almost miss his words over the volume of the music. "You missed," he boldly states. Tup's definitely stolen that line from Fives, or has been taught it - either way, it's something Fives would say, and you know how close those two are.

"Oh?" you cheekily sigh. You're about to follow it up, until the bartender arrives, pulling your attention away from the clone.

Once your order is placed, you turn back to Tup, wanting to finish where you left off. He looks at you, then looks away, pulling an embarrassed face. Your fingertips are placed below Tup's chin, gently turning his head to face you, and before Tup can say anything, you lean in to kiss him.

Tup freezes up, before melting into the kiss, moving his head to fit against yours. A hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you there, as if to reassure himself that yes, this really is happening. Tup's kisses match his personality, sweet and gentle, but the tongue that slides across your lower lip suggests there's more to him than meets the eye.

You can overhear the sounds of cheering in the background, and you just know that it's coming from your men. You break away, not to be rude, but because you don't want the poor bartender to be stood there awkwardly as you're busy snogging a clone. Thankfully, they arrive moments later, and you two soon return to the booth with drinks and shots in hand.

Fives applauds his vod as Tup sheepishly sits down, and you go to take a seat beside him, until Jesse pulls you onto his lap. "You've had enough fun with him, come and give us some attention!" he playfully nips, and follows his statement up with a kiss on your neck.

"There's plenty of me to go around," you bite back, wiggling your hips slightly, grinding your ass on Jesse's lap. He sighs heavily at your move, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you there.

You turn your attention to the drinks that you just brought, downing yet another shot, and washing it down with your beverage.

Minutes later, and you're really starting to feel the liquor running through your veins, as well as the undying urge to dance. Jesse is willing, and Hardcase lets you two know that he'll meet you over there, once he's gone and used the refresher. The rest of the clones stay seated, to your surprise, but then again, they don't seem like the type to dance. Well, Fives possibly, but he's barely able to stand, let alone dance, and Kix is nursing him back to soberness with many glasses of water.

Jesse follows you over to the dance floor, your hand in his, and it's busier than you expected. The dance floor is mostly full of clones and their squadrons, all celebrating various victories and whatnot, with a few women lingering about. You understand by now that women only come to this bar to pick up the clones, and can you blame them? Bless the Kaminoans for picking out Jango Fett to be their donor, as his genetics are excelling in all departments.

"My turn with you already?" Jesse questions as he begins dancing with you, swaying in time with the music.

"We've only been here for a few hours. I thought you'd be more patient?" you tease, and Jesse gives you a look.

"I'm patient when I want to be, sweetheart," Jesse shrugs. "But for you? I've been waiting a long time for this," he explains as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.

The tattooed clone smiles down at you, and the glisten in his eyes informs you that his patience truly is running thin. But how long will it be before it runs out? Or how much can you rile him up before he breaks?

"I'm sure you can wait a little longer," you flirt back, trailing your hand along his shirt, fingertips gliding over each of his buttons. You meet his collar and hook a finger over the fabric, gently pulling his head down to your level.

Jesse smirks as he replies "I don't think I can," before pressing his lips to yours. You can tell that Jesse's patience is running thin from the way he kisses you, hungry and lustful, playfully nipping at your lower lip. Your hands wrap around his neck, and you have to remind yourself that you left your bag with the others - that's why your hands are empty.

The hands on your waist trail down to your ass, and Jesse boldly grabs more than a handful, pulling your body tightly against his as he kneads your ass. You break the kiss with a yelp, and remind yourself that you're still in public, thankfully with no eyes set on you. "Jesse!" you playfully swat him, and he chuckles against your skin as his lips trail over your neck.

"You started without me!" A disappointed voice calls out, and warmth appears against your back.

Hardcase has returned from the refresher, pouting because the party has apparently started without him. Jesse moves his hands back to your waist, almost as if he's giving permission for Hardcase to press his crotch against your ass, sandwiching you between the two, tattooed clones. Your cheeks quickly turn red, and you must look more flustered than you feel, as the face that Hardcase and Jesse send each other informs you that they have something planned.

"So," Hardcase begins, his eyes flicking down to yours. "When are we taking you back?"

"Soon?" you nervously reply, questioning your own motives. It's hard to concentrate with an uneven sea turning in your stomach, but the liquor is thankfully helping - you'd be a lot more flustered if you were sober right now.

"Soon?" Jesse repeats, raising a brow at your reply. "Why not now, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah," Hardcase nods, and then dips his head down to kiss along your neck. His kisses trail up to your ear, nipping at that sensitive spot behind it before stating "you look like you need us to fill you up."

A bold, yet true statement, but you're unsure if you want to leave just yet. Do you want to continue your teasing here? Or click your fingers and order your men to take you home and fuck you?

"She's thinkin' about it," Hardcase states, directing his words to Jesse.

"We know what you're thinking, babe, and we think that you've teased us enough already," Jesse says to you, and kneads his hands on your waist, picking and pulling at the fabric of your dress. Bold of him to assume what you're thinking - you're the Jedi here, not him. Either way, his thoughts are true. You have teased them enough, but there's no harm in drawing it out just a little longer, is there?

Jesse steals a kiss from you again, and you can feel him smiling as you let out a soft moan. Hardcase continues kissing up your neck, rutting his semi-hard cock against your ass; his lips wander down below your neckline, and he bites and sucks at your skin, leaving a purple blotch behind. It's in just the right place, an area where your Jedi robes will cover it up, but if you want to tease him on the battlefield, all you need to do is pull back at the thin layer of clothing, revealing his mark.

Just as Hardcase is about to kiss your neck again, a voice calls out "get a room!"

Oh yeah, you're doing all this on the dance floor of 79's. Whoops. Jesse pulls away and chuckles at the strangers remark. "See? Even he thinks we should get going," he states, and you finally agree to make a move.

Jesse leads you off the dance floor, and Hardcase keeps his hand comfortably around your waist. You wander back over to the booth, picking your drink up off the table and finishing it off. "It's time, boys!" Hardcase states, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh?" Fives looks over to you, flashing you a cheeky grin. It seems the many glasses of water on the table have finally brought him back to a stable level; Kudos to Kix for dealing with him.

Tup passes you your bag as he shuffles off the sofas, and you thank him by pulling him down for a quick kiss. You break away with a soft laugh as you hear Fives complain "where's mine, huh?"

"You can get it when we're in the taxi," you explain.

Fives swats Hardcase's arm from around your waist, replacing it with his own, and mouths the words "my turn," to Hardcase, who simply laughs at his eagerness. You and Fives take the lead, exiting the club with your squad following behind.

--------

The ride back to the barracks is... eventful, as is entering the barracks itself. Jesse and Kix walk ahead, pretending to be drunker than they actually are so they can distract the guards with their very existence. The rest of you sneak by, sheltered by a wall of horny clones, and you're ushered into their dorm.

The second you step foot into the room, Fives is all over you. With his hands on your hips, he leads you over to the wall, pushing you up against it and locking his lips with yours. Fives's hand trails up to grab your bag, pulling it from your grasp, and chucking it onto a nearby bed, leaving your hands free to wrap around his neck. He's impatient and needy, hungrily kissing you, his hands struggling to find a single place to rest; they slide over your waist, down your back, and grab at your ass, before trailing up and repeating the process all over again.

"Kriff, calm down. She's not going anywhere," one of his vods comments. Kix possibly?

Fives ignores the comment and continues turning your legs into jelly, making up for all his apparent 'lost time.' When he does finally pull away, he's grinning. His pupils are blown, full of lust, eyeing you up like a piece of meat, until somebody swats him away.

"I'm the one who proposed this to her, so I get first dibs," Jesse intervenes. There's something thrilling about the way they're speaking about you, as if you're not there, as if you're their property. In some ways, you are theirs - you have always been theirs - but only tonight have things finally taken a step forward.

Somebody has dimmed the lights, enough to set the mood, but still light enough that you can see what's happening, and so can everyone else. Everybody's watching as Jesse leads you over to what you assume is his bunk, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees fall onto either side of his hips, spreading your legs, your dress hiking up your thighs.

Jesse places his hands on your waist, holding you as his lips take over from where Fives left off. As he kisses you, he pulls down on your waist, grinding you over his semi-hard cock, reminding you of what's to come. You feel the hem of your dress slip up slightly over your ass, and one of the clones sighs at the small teaser.

Jesse knows what his vods are after, so his hands trail up your back, finding the zip. He slowly unzips your dress, taking his time to reveal what lies beneath, and breaks the kiss so he can pull your dress over your head, discarding it on the bunk next to him.

Needless to say, the air is filled with an array of praise, mutters and moans at the sight of you. You're straddling the ARC Trooper in your underwear and heels, now being freed of your bra. Jesse groans as your tits fall free, and moves his lips down your body, along your neck, over your collarbone, until he latches onto a nipple.

You feel something tug at your foot, and peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase removing your heels; he's polite (and sober) enough to place them down neatly, rather than tossing them to the floor, or worse, throwing them at his vods. Hardcase then stands up, peering over you, and prevents your lips from feeling lonely. He keeps your mouth occupied, whilst Jesse flicks between both of your tits, and both of them find their way to your panties.

"Need to get these off you," Hardcase mutters against your lips. Hardcase hooks his fingers around one strap, Jesse has the other, and the pair slowly slide them off you, moving with your body as you shuffle from Jesse's lap to remove them. You're left naked in a room full of your men, the men that have served under you for a few years now, but it seems that Jesse is the one taking the lead tonight.

"C'mere," Jesse mutters as he manhandles you off his lap. He shimmies around and lays down, his head at the foot of the bed, feet resting against his headboard. Jesse pats his shoulders before making grabby motions with his hands, signalling for you to climb aboard.

With one knee on either side of Jesse's face, you straddle him. Despite the alcohol still pumping through your system, you're still nervous, exposing yourself fully to your men. They're all reacting positively, a few of them palming themselves through their smart pants. Your nervousness doesn't stay for long, being brushed away as Jesse pulls your cunt down onto his face.

He licks a firm stripe over your pussy, followed by a few more curious ones, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. You yelp, instinctively grinding down on Jesse's face, and he seems to like it from the hum he lets out. "Kriff," you overhear one of the clones mutter, and you realize it's Fives when he pipes up with "go on, sweetheart. Fuck his face!"

Jesse nods against your cunt, and the squad seems eager for a show, so, why not?

Firm hands hold onto your thighs, steadying you as you begin rocking back and forth over Jesse's tongue. He's flattened it out nicely, and at this angle, you're able to brush your clit over the wet muscle, grinding oh-so-perfectly. The room is filled with soft words of encouragement, "that's it, doll," and "keep going for us!"

You feel bad that Jesse isn't receiving anything in return, so whilst sitting on his face, you begin unfastening his pants, eventually freeing his cock.

Oh, thank the Maker for those yummy Jango Fett genes.

Jesse is thick, leaking with precum, slightly red at the tip. If he's thick, then that means the rest of them are thick... you're in store for quite a treat.

With one hand barely wrapped around Jesse's cock, you begin pumping his already hard length, earning a whimper from the man beneath you. Your hips have slowed in pace, and Jesse urges you to speed up by grabbing your hips and moving them for you. He takes over, fucking you onto his face for a few moments before steadying your hips again, and wrapping his lips around your clit instead.

You yelp, pumping Jesse's cock faster, and he lets out a similar pleasant sound. Another hand appears on your body, and you peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase grabbing your ass, kneading at your cheeks, playing with them. "Got room for one more?" he questions, eyeing you up.

"Uh-huh," you say with a nod.

Hardcase flashes you a cheeky grin before moving his head down to kiss over your cheeks, lightly biting at each mound, moving from one cheek to the other. Every time it feels like he's getting close to your entrance, he moves across to the other cheek, teasing you with a smile on his lips. You're half tempted to push back onto his face, but he beats you to it by running his tongue over your rim, circling your entrance curiously.

Hardcase doesn't hold back, attacking your entrance with his tongue, his hands kneading at each cheek. Jesse continues flicking his tongue against your clit, and a hand is removed from your thigh; fingertips brush over your pussy, slicking themselves up, before a finger slides into you, not stopping until he reaches his knuckle.

Jesse slowly begins working you open, not that you need it much, considering your heavy arousal. Hardcase notices and takes the hint, wetting his finger in his mouth before pressing the pad against your entrance. He circles your ass a few times, relaxing the muscle, before slowly and gently pushing in. Unlike Jesse, Hardcase takes his time, working with your body to slowly open your ass up.

Your hand continues sloppily pumping Jesse's length, just enough to keep him satisfied; you want to do more, but your thoughts and feelings are already occupied. Just when you think you can't take any more, another clone comes into your line of sight, and asks you those exact words as he knees down in front of you.

"Can you take any more?" Kix questions, eyeing you up, reading your body language.

"Uh-huh," you nod once more, and Kix seems content with your approval.

He plants a light kiss on your lips before standing, and works on unfastening his pants, revealing yet another thick cock for your pleasure. You know exactly what Kix is after, so you open your mouth, awaiting him; he lets out a groan at the sight, and slips his cock past your lips, the underside brushing over your tongue.

Both of your hands are occupied, with one propping your weight up, and the other pumping Jesse; so, you make do with your mouth, sucking him to the best of your ability, and despite being slightly sloppy, Kix seems more than satisfied. He's an understanding man who can clearly see how busy you are.

And oh kriff, you sure are busy.

An orgasm is sitting on the fence, waiting for that final push. Jesse slips another finger into you, curling them and searching for that sweet spot. He knows he's found it when he overhears a muffled moan, and your moan seems to echo, as one of the clones groans at the sight of you. Hardcase removes his finger from your ass, slipping his tongue in and tongue-fucking your small gape, slicking you up so he can begin pushing two fingers in. Like before, he goes slow, understanding the stretch and burn that you're feeling right now.

Hardcase, within time, reaches his knuckles, and gently works his fingers in and out of you. That sensation, added with Jesse's fingers in you, and lips around your clit, is more than enough to have you cumming. You have to slip off Kix's cock to let out a shaky moan, thighs and body trembling as your orgasm takes you. Your forehead presses against Kix's thigh, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open, and Kix soothes you by running his fingers through your hair, keeping it off your face.

You overhear Tup gasp, Dogma whine, and Fives cheer you on. "That's it, sweetheart," one of them encourages, but your mind is so hazy that you're not sure who it was. Either way, the words of encouragement are appreciated, as well as the soothing touches that Kix and Jesse are leaving over your body.

You soon come back around, still trembling from the intensity. Your eyes meet Kix's, who places a kiss on your forehead before settling down on the bunk beside you, muttering something about you having your hands full.

Curiously, you peer over your shoulder, and only then do you realize that Hardcase now has three fingers inside your ass. You're ready, and Hardcase flashes you a look that confirms it. "Wanna see what else we can do?" Hardcase questions, and you swiftly nod, accepting their advances.

Hardcase slowly slips his fingers from your ass, and works on removing his clothes. A kiss is planted on your inner thigh before Jesse gives you the signal to roll off, and you do so, letting the clone crawl out from beneath you. His face is soaked - no, drenched - and your juices have dribbled down over his chin, darkening the collar of his shirt.

"How do I look?" Jesse chuckles, before wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve. Taking Hardcase's idea, he too undresses, leaving you sat on your knees on his bunk.

Hardcase frees himself from his clothes first, and takes a seat beside you. He's about to get into position, until Fives calls out his protest. "You just had a go with her!" he whines.

"We'll be quick," Hardcase winks. He gets comfortable on the bunk, lying on his back, head pressed against the pillow. Hardcase makes a grabbing motion at you whilst mumbling "I want your ass," and with a laugh, you begin getting into position.

At first, you feel awkward and exposed, settling so your back is pressed to Hardcase's tattooed chest. He takes the lead, swinging your legs on either side of his, spreading you wide, and signalling for you to hold your hips up. Hardcase wraps his hand around the base of his cock and begins searching for your entrance, and with your help, he finds your ass.

"Go at your own pace, babe," Hardcase comments, and allows you to take your time sliding down onto his cock. Despite being prepped, Hardcase is still a stretch, slowly working your ass open. A mixture of groans fill the room as you slowly slide onto him, soon reaching his base, a gasp escaping your lips. "Beautiful," Hardcase comments, and reaches around to flick his fingers over your clit, attempting to help you relax.

"You ready for me?" Jesse questions, and all you can do is nod as nothing escapes your lips. Jesse shuffles up the bed, settling between your thighs. He slowly enters you, making a comment under his breath about how soaked your pussy is.

Jesse slides in with ease, holding his cock deep inside you, bottoming out. He awaits your signal before making a move, as does Hardcase, and when you give it, both the clones start slowly.

Your head rolls back to rest on Hardcase's shoulder, and the tattooed clone places a kiss on your temple before turning his focus to bucking up into your ass. Jesse's speed is slightly faster, considering he's in an easier position, and fucking a looser hole. Either way, you're full to the brim, moaning and groaning for them as Hardcase continues flicking his fingers over your clit.

"Kriff, doesn't she look good?" you overhear Kix comment.

Dogma follows up with, "if only you could see yourself, Commander."

Commander, Kriff. That status somehow slipped your mind - you're their Commander, their superior, and your men are currently watching you be fucked, whilst queueing up to take their turn with you. Let's hope your Jedi training has paid off, as you're going to need an extra stern poker-face the next time you're in their presence, or worse, in the presence of your Master.

Jesse, from the sounds that he's making, doesn't seem like he's going to last long. In his defense, you have been pumping his cock this entire time, despite your handiwork being somewhat sloppy. Hardcase's hand on your clit brushes over the perfect spot, causing you to clench in response, and that is more than enough to bring Jesse to orgasm.

"Where?" he manages to blurt out.

"Inside," you order, and every single clone in the room groans at your reply.

Jesse is about to ask if you're certain, but his body gives up before he can speak. Jesse slides his cock as deep as he can, and fills you up, panting and groaning as he releases. He's a debauched, a sweaty mess, possibly still drunk from earlier. Once he's somewhat stable, he slips his cock from you, slowly shuffling off the bed and collapsing on a nearby bunk.

Hardcase kisses your neck, as if to remind you that he's still there, or warning you, since he moves his hands to hold beneath your knees, pulling your knees up against your shoulders, and begins fucking up into your ass.

Your legs are spread, displayed for the other clones to watch as Hardcase ensures that you won't be able to walk for weeks. He's a grunting, sputtering mess beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck as he chases his release.

A few more thrusts and Hardcase is finishing in your ass, holding your body tight against his as he leaves his mark. You're almost certain you heard a few whimpers from him, meaning his orgasm must have been intense. Eventually, a sweaty Hardcase begins slipping himself from you, being gentle as he rolls you off his chest.

Hardcase has barely removed himself off the bunk before another clone calls out "I'm next," and you look in the direction of the voice to see Dogma slipping his clothes off.

"Dogma? You?" Tup questions.

"Yeah, me!" he states, pointing a finger to himself.

"I didn't think you would," Tup shrugs, and in Tup's defence, you agree with him.

"I thought you'd be the type to tell on us," an exhausted Jesse comments, still laying back on a nearby bunk, spread out and panting heavily.

"Even if he did, I don't think anybody would believe him," Fives adds with a laugh.

"Stop being so mean to him, Troopers. Dogma is just as welcome as everybody else," you defend, and the clone thanks you with a smile.

"As welcome as everybody else?" Fives repeats your word. "Kriff, Commander, I didn't realize you were inviting the entire Legion!" he jokes, and you roll your eyes at Fives's comment, twisting your words cheekily.

You ignore Fives's playful remark, turning your attention to Dogma instead, who's just about finished removing his shirt. "How do you want me, handsome?" you question.

Dogma's eyes light up at your little nickname, and he orders you to "get on your front, hands and knees, and face the boys."

Orders are orders, and you follow them without question. Dogma shuffles in behind you, kneading your ass for a few moments before wrapping his hand around his cock. You're already slick enough, with your own release smeared around your thighs, and a release in both holes, so Dogma doesn't bother using his own spit to slick up his cock. Instead, he glides his cock over your pussy, ensuring the tip of his cock flicks over your clit with every thrust, and once he's satisfied, he begins pushing into your ass.

You let out an "oh," as Dogma slides in, letting out a grunt as he bottoms out. With his hands on your hips, and the signal from you to continue, Dogma begins fucking your ass, gawking over the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from you. "That's it," he mutters under his breath. "Kriff, you look so good for me."

"For us," Kix intervenes, and Dogma shoots him a grumpy glare.

Dogma is clearly trying to prove his vods wrong, showing them that he wants this, that he won't rat everybody out for breaking so many rules. His thrusts are heavy, the sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis fills up the room, pushing moans from your lips with every thrust. You can feel Hardcase's release slowly being pushed from your ass, settling around your rim, soon to be replaced with Dogmas.

You overhear someone shuffling about, and Kix soon appears in your line of sight. "I'm back," he says with a smile. "Care to continue where we left off?" Kix questions, and lets out a pleasant sigh when you nod in agreement.

This time, you have your hand free, and you wrap it around Kix's cock as the tip slips into your mouth. Dogma's not letting up his thrusts, pushing your head forwards with every roll of his hips, causing you to lightly gag on Kix's length. Kix seems to enjoy it, as do the viewers, and the sensation is alright for you; so, you continue, eventually letting Kix begin thrusting and fucking your mouth, his pace matching Dogmas.

Kix notices the lack of attention on your pussy, and leans forward, hand reaching out to dip beneath your body and help get you off, but Dogma swats his hand away. At first, you're insulted, as is Kix, until Dogma speaks up and explains his actions. "Let's see how long she can last without being touched," he cheekily states, and Kix flashes him a similar smile before looking down at you.

"Sorry, Commander. Orders are orders," Kix shrugs, and returns to fucking your mouth.

You let out a whine, as does Tup, who seems sympathetic at the lack of attention in your key areas. Fives, on the other hand, is hollering, "she won't last long. She'll be begging for it soon!"

Ugh, he's right. Despite already having an orgasm, you're chasing another, eager for that certain-something to help get you off. The more Dogma and Kix fuck you, the more your cunt burns, and when you try to remove your hand from Kix's cock, he wraps his hand around your wrist to prevent you from touching yourself, clicking his tongue with a disapproving "ah-ah!"

"Soon, sweetheart," Dogma says from behind you, and judging from the way his cock is twitching in your ass, you assume he's close.

Dogma picks up his pace, ruining your own pace on Kix's cock - or improving it, as Kix groans when you gag, spit pooling from the corners of your mouth. "So wet," Kix comments under his breath, and returns to fucking your mouth again, grunting and moaning with every thrust.

"Oh, Maker!" Dogma sighs as he pushes his cock as deep as it'll go. With his hands tightly around your hips, he earns his release, filling your ass with hot, sticky cum. Your moan is muffled from Kix's cock, who has slowed his thrusts, almost to a halt. Kix waits for Dogma to finish, and once he's slipped out, he manhandles you into a new position.

Kix rolls you onto your back, legs against the edge of the bed. He's clearly in a rush, his orgasm sitting on the edge, and he hurries to slide his cock into your pussy, one leg up on the bed, the other remaining on the floor.

Kix only thrusts a few times before bottoming out and cumming inside, his load mixing with Jesse's, who has finally perked up after passing out on another bunk. "Good girl," Kix mutters as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit, grinding in circles a few times. He's milking his release, slowly fucking you in a hazy post-orgasm state, biting his lip whenever you clench around his overstimulated cock.

When Kix can't take any more, he pulls out, and your clit is left unattended. You can feel his and Jesse's load leaking from you, and your eyes lock onto Tup, who was just eyeing up your cunt, his cheeks turning red at the sight of your sticky, cum soaked pussy.

"We're up, Tup!" Fives says with a laugh, patting his vod on the shoulder, snapping him out of his fixated state. Fives has the audacity to follow up his rhyme with finger guns, causing you to roll your eyes at the cheek of this man.

Tup lets out a "huh?" before realising that it's his turn to play with you. The pair are quick to strip off; Fives leaves his clothes strung over the floor, whilst Tup leaves his on his bunk. Just like the rest of your squad, they're hung, and your holes are already beginning to feel sore at the sight of them.

Fives motions for you to stand, and with extremely wobbly legs, you manage to get up, clinging onto Fives as you do so. "Tup, c'mere and help me out," Fives playfully orders, before turning his focus to you.

He bends down slightly, arms stretched out, and asks for you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Catch her if she falls, Tup," Fives comment, and you hear a soft "oh, kriff," from behind you.

Well, you don't fall. Your legs are wrapped around Fives's waist, hands around his neck, awaiting the next move. Five pauses, staring out into thin air, before realizing his mistake.

"Wait, I want to fuck your ass... Tup, you pick her up," Fives comments, and gently places you back down on the floor, only to spin you around so you're facing Tup instead.

"Idiot," Jesse mutters under his breath, and Fives glares at him over your shoulder.

Tup wraps his arms around your waist, and on his nod, you jump up into his lap. He moves your legs to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing over, and your hands trail up to settle on his shoulders, fingertips playing with his loose strands of hair. Tup, for some reason, is trembling, and you're uncertain if it's from your weight, or his nerves. A soothing kiss on his nose reveals that it's his nerves, as he begins to relax, and your weight is then shared between the two clones as Fives approaches you from behind.

Fives focuses on slipping his cock into your ass, before taking your weight off Tup, allowing him to slide up into your pussy. The pair bottom out, pulling you down onto their lengths, and find an even way to hold your weight, making it easier on everybody.

At first, the pair are an uneven, a sloppy mess, struggling to find the right rhythm. Despite their lack of sync, you're still enjoying yourself, but the second they finally sync up, it's game over. With your hands desperately clinging onto Tup's shoulders, you roll your head back against Fives's shoulder, moaning and groaning as the fuck you.

Tup lets out a sigh as he comments "you're so good for us," his hands kneading at your thighs around his waist.

"Isn't she just?" Fives smirks, and his hands on your ass give you a squeeze. "Poor Tup here looks like he's going to cum already," Fives bites at his vod, and Tup sends him a disappointed glare.

"Play nice, you two," you softly order, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of their play fight.

They let out a "yes, Commander," as their thrusts continue, the sound of synced up skin against skin echoing around the dorm room.

However, the sound of the door opening makes everybody jump out of their skin, and you all turn with wide eyes to see none other than Captain Rex entering the room. Fives and Tup come to a halt, Jesse sits up on his bunk, and everybody awaits Rex's move.

Rex, with a stern expression, reaches a hand out to press the lock button on the dorms' door. "You forgot to lock it," he states, then tuts and shakes his head, scolding his men for their sloppiness.

Rex is still in uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm. The sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaches you, Tup, and Fives, and all three of you watch as Rex comes to a halt in front of you. You gulp, despite being a higher ranking than Rex, and despite knowing that he is also in on this.

The expression Rex gives you sends a shiver down your spine; he raises a single brow, slowly eyeing all of you up and down, before his lips finally trail into a smirk. A gloved hand reaches out and finds its way between your legs, instantly settling over your clit. Rex begins to slowly rub your clit, the fabric of his gloves giving you that something extra, and he speaks up in his usual, bold, military tone.

"You've got to play with her as you're fucking her, boys," Rex states, smirking as he notices everybody's expressions drop, letting out sighs of relief. "How is she meant to cum if you're not focusing on the right areas?" Rex questions, and gestures for his men to pick up their pace again.

Fives and Tup begin bucking up into you again, still slightly nervous, but lust soon takes over and evens them out. Rex turns his full attention to you, and the deepness of his voice makes your pussy clench. "Have these men served you well?" he questions.

"They have," you mutter, nodding as you speak, eager to express your fondness.

"That's good to hear, Commander," the Captain smirks. His eyes stay glued to yours, and you can't bare to look away. His fingers are working wonders on your clit, and the sensation of Fives and Tup tending to you is swiftly becoming too much. Your breaths become quick and short, and your eyes struggle to stay open. Rex takes not and announces, "she's close, boys."

"Go on, show off for Rex," Fives says against your ear, and Tup nods along in agreement. A few more thrusts and you're clenching around their cocks, both men grunting and moaning as you up their sensation. Rex doesn't stop playing with your clit, at first, until your thighs begin to twitch from overstimulation; only then does he pull away, taking a step back and settling his hands on his hips after placing his helmet down on a nearby bunk.

Tup lets out a whine, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. "Good boy, Tup," you direct your praise to him, and that alone is enough to make him cum. Tup buries his head into the curve of your neck, groaning against your skin as his load joins the others inside you, most of it oozing out past his cock and dripping to the floor.

"Kriff, guess it's my turn," Fives comments with a light laugh. He buries his head into your other shoulder, kissing and nipping at your skin as he continues fucking your ass. It doesn't take long for Fives to also cum, burying his length up to the base, and groaning when you twitch from overstimulation. "So karking good," Fives mutters, and repeats his compliment as he lifts his head off your shoulder, before kissing your cheek.

Slowly and steadily, the pair lower you, avoiding the slippy patches of cum on the floor that has dripped from both your holes. You're debauched, exhausted in every aspect, and undeniably cock-dumb as Rex approaches and asks "got room for your Captain?"

"Always," you steadily sigh. Rex chuckles at your eagerness, then gestures for you to get comfortable on a bunk.

You pick Jesse's bunk, seeing as it's already a mess, plus it's in the centre of everybody's line of sight. Knowing Rex, he'll want to make a show of this, turning it into some training exercise as a way of covering up what is really going on here.

You sit back on the bed, falling back onto your elbows, and watch as Rex approaches. He unfastens his codpiece, discarding it onto a nearby bunk, and pulls his semi-hard cock out from beneath his blacks. The Captain is clean-shaven, thick and girthy, another cock to add onto your 'reasons why I can't walk this week' list.

Rex slips his gloves off before pumping himself with one hand, the other reaching down to trail over your overly sensitive cunt. Gentle fingertips slide over your wet folds, and Rex spreads you apart, revealing the sticky mess leaking from your entrance. "I see they've been keeping you full," Rex comments as his fingers trail up to glide over your clit, pressing firmly and flicking over the bud.

"Very full," you nod along. Your eyes flick to Rex's cock, which is now hard, precum leaking like crazy. Rex notices the way you're looking at his length, and he stops pumping his shaft, holding at the base instead, as if to present it.

"Is this what you want?" he teasingly questions, causing you to shudder.

"Yes, Captain," you nod, and Rex lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Place the order, Commander," Rex orders in his own way.

You lick your lips, followed by clearing your throat, and keep your eyes locked onto your Captains as you state "your orders are to fuck me, Captain."

"Yes, Ma'am."

You overhear a handful of men groan at your tone of voice, no doubt working themselves up again. "I'll show you boys how it's done," Rex says with a smug laugh as he moves both of his hands to your knees, and slowly pushes them up until they're almost pressing your shoulders, folding your body in half. He keeps one hand on your knee, the other holding the base of his cock as he begins slipping into you.

It isn't until you feel cold plastoid pressing against your body that you realize he's still in uniform.

Rex is fucking you with his armour on? Oh.

The sound that Rex lets out as he bottoms out is one that will forever play on repeat in the back of your mind. He holds himself there, scrunching his eyes shut as he regains focus, enticed by how wet and warm you feel. Once Rex has evened out, he begins thrusting into you, and oh Kriff, this man does not hold back.

With your body folded in half, Rex is able to drive his cock even deeper, his tip brushing over your g-spot with every thrust. Your legs find their way around his upper back, ankles locking over each other, and to encourage Rex, you press your heel against his back, urging him to give you all he's got. Rex's eyes meet yours, a single brow raised, and he makes a brief comment about how needy you are.

You're already a babbling mess, and Rex has only just begun! No doubt, you'll pass out the second he's finished with you, but your men are here to pick up the pieces, labelling you as a war hero for helping them during such desperate times.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" Rex questions, affectionate eyes locking onto your half-lidded ones.

"G-good," is all you can reply, and Rex chuckles at your cock-dumb mentality.

When words fail, actions speak, and Rex dips his head down to introduce his lips to yours. Despite his heavy thrusts, the kiss is steady, adding to your overstimulation. You've always been fond of your Captain, but you could never quite put your finger on why; now you've got it - it's because he fucks so kriffing good!

As the kiss breaks, you reach around Rex's neck, hands clasping onto his back, attempting to rake your nails into his slippery armour. Rex lets out a soft laugh before kissing along your neck, leaving his mark below where your Jedi robes sit - what a smart man.

"Rex, I'm-" you blurt out.

"I know, sweetheart," Rex replies in a soothing voice, only for his tone to turn stern as he questions "you're going to cum for me, aren't you, Commander?"

Your reply can't seem to leave your lips, so you nod in response. Rex chuckles at your desperation, and to your surprise, he stops what he's doing. His thrusts come to a sharp halt, and he quickly slips his cock from you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open.

Just as you're about to question what he's doing, as are the other clones, he sits on the end of the bed beside you and slips two fingers into your cunt, instantly curling them and fucking you where he left off.

Rex clearly knows something you don't, but you allow him to take the ropes, especially as your orgasm is on the edge. There's a strange sensation in your gut, something you haven't quiet felt before, and judging from the way it's growing with Rex's movements, you assume you'll soon find out.

"Watch and learn, boys," Rex states, but keeps his eyes focused, locked onto yours.

You're putty in his grasp, mewling on the bed, not bothering to hold back on your moans. You're about to cum, any second now, but that foreign sensation takes over instead. Suddenly, everything becomes too much, especially Rex's fingers hitting that soft spot inside you over and over. You yelp as something takes over your body, an orgasm of some kind; on shaky elbows, you rush to prop yourself up, gazing down to watch in amazement as you squirt all over your Captain's arm, the liquid coating his plastoid armour.

"Good girl," Rex coos through gritted teeth, repeating the praise, but doesn't let up just yet. Kriff, you're screaming, even with your hand over your mouth. You fall back onto the bed, clawing at the sheets as this orgasm lasts longer than usual.

Even after you squirt, Rex continues fucking you with his fingers, as if to ensure that you're empty. He eventually calms down, and only then does your volume begin to drop, revealing the vast amount of praise from your troopers.

"That was beautiful, Commander!" Fives calls out.

"Kriff, she's shaking," you overhear Tup comment.

Jesse whines "my karking bed is soaked..." under his breath, which makes you smile to yourself. He was the one to suggest his bed, so he can lie in his wet grave!

A gentle stroke of your hair makes you open your eyes, only to meet Kix, who's gazing down at you. "Are you alright?" he questions.

"Uh-huh," you lazily nod, and he smiles at your exhaustion. Kix slowly props you up, letting you fall back against him. Your eyes trail to Rex, who looks almost as tired as you do. He's wiping something off his thigh, and if your calculations are correct, his thigh was out of your splash zone.

"Did you cum?" you ask Rex, who looks up at you with a tired smile. He nods in confirmation.

"Untouched," Rex states, and you take pride in making him cum in such a way.

You have a sudden burst of energy, and use it to lean forwards and thank your Captain with a kiss. Rex smiles against your lips before playfully nipping at your bottom lip, earning a sarcastic comment of "get a room!" from Jesse.

"I think we should get you into the refresher instead," Rex comments as he breaks the kiss.

"As good as that sounds, I can't walk," you sigh, and attempt to gesture to your jelly-like body, only for your arms to flap about and fall flat at your sides.

Rex laughs at your exhaustion, then informs you that he'll run you a bath instead. You look at him with a surprised expression, to which he states "I know, I wasn't expecting the GAR to treat us to baths, either."

Rex leaves you in the company of Kix, who begins checking over your body whilst asking you over and over if you're alright.

------

A nice, hot bath doesn't take long for Rex to run. Hardcase, now in his blacks, with caution, picks you up and carries you to the dorms' refresher. He's extra gentle as he places your feet on the tile floor, keeping his arm around your waist to steady yourself as you slowly enter the bath.

Hardcase steals a kiss from you, muttering "thanks for tonight, Commander," against your lips before leaving you to it.

Kix enters the second Hardcase exits, bringing you a glass of water and a certain prevention pill. "Let me know if you need anything," he informs you before kissing your forehead and leaving you to relax.

Only for Fives to come barrelling in, instantly blabbering on about how good you were. "I always assumed you'd be quite the slut, but... well, I wasn't expecting that," Fives playfully jabs, and insists that "we should all do it again some time!"

Dogma peers his head around the door and barks at Fives to leave you alone, but the second he shoos Fives out, he replaces the emptiness with himself instead. "Eh, Fives is right," Dogma comments, referring to Fives statement. "But don't tell him I said that," he grumbles as he steals a kiss from you.

You stretch back in the bath, enjoying the GAR assigned bubbles, and just when you think you're alone, Tup appears. "I don't want to smother you..." he sheepishly comments, "but I wanted to thank you for tonight." You can't help but laugh at Tup's kind demeanour, and the smile remains on your lips as Tup offers you a massage.

You accept, under the cheeky condition that Tup joins you in the bath. His cheeks turn pink at your suggestion, and continue turning pink the more he undresses. Tup even attempts to cover himself up as he settles in the bath with you, making you giggle once more.

Tup has your back resting against his chest, tenderly burying his fingertips into your damp skin, softening out those tight areas. You overhear commotion outside, and both of you laugh as it unfolds.

"No fair! Tup's in there having another round with her!" Fives protests, his voice thudding through the thickness of the refresher door.

"Leave her alone, Fives. She's a free woman, she can do what she wants!" Somebody defends, and you're almost certain it's Dogma.

"They're just cuddling, leave them alone," Rex intervenes, and you know it's Rex from his firmness and slight difference in tone.

Following the Captain's orders, you and Tup are left to it, cuddling and lazily washing each other. Once the water turns cold, you both make your exit, drying yourselves off and gawking when Tup lets down his hair, only to refasten it into another, fresh manbun.

A pair of blacks has been left for you on the side, and despite them being a little big, they still fit snugly. As you exit the refresher, the first thing you notice is that Jesse's bed has been completely stripped, bedding in the wash. The dorm is clean, and your clothes and bag have been folded and placed on Jesse's empty bed.

"I guess I'm staying the night," you comment, and gesture to ask who you're bundling up with.

Before anyone can get a word in, the Captain speaks up. "I missed out on most of the night, so I'd like to catch up with you."

You're unsure if 'catch up' means have a chat, or wake up to find Rex spoon-fucking you, but either way, you're down. With a nod of confirmation, you begin settling in for the night, curling up in Rex's bunk as he continues changing from his armour into a fresh pair of blacks to sleep in.

"Wait a minute," Jesse intervenes. "Where am I sleeping?" he questions, setting his hands on his hips with frustration.

"You can go give Tup a cuddle, he loves them, apparently," Fives maliciously comments, sending playful, yet bold daggers at his vod.

"Ah, leave Tup alone," Dogma defends him.

Before Fives can take another jab, Hardcase barks up with "we can spoon!" And Jesse doesn't look too pleased at his suggestion.

"You can join us, Jesse," Rex disgruntledly states.

"You do know these beds are singles, right?" Jesse states as he gestures to the small, single beds, barely big enough for one clone, let alone two, and you.

"Yes, but from what I've seen, the Commander likes it when she has a clone pressed up on either side of her," Rex teases, side-eyeing you as he comments.

An array of laugher fills the air, and Jesse nods in agreement. You remain quiet, as there's no point denying something that is blatantly true!

The lights are soon turned out, and the boys take it in turns to say goodnight to each other. In the dark, you feel Rex join you, manhandling you into position. Your head finds Rex's chest, an arm sprawled out underneath your neck, and your arm wraps around Rex's waist. Jesse then joins, and since your back is free, he decides to spoon you, trapping you perfectly in your 501st sandwich. Before falling asleep, you make a minor comment to Rex, as if to apologize for him not being there tonight. "We'll make sure you come with us next time," you quietly comment, referring to 79's, the venue that lead you here.

Jesse chuckles before mentioning how wild the night went. "You should have seen her, Captain. She's the sluttiest woman in the galaxy, grinding on Hardcase whilst making out with me," Jesse explains, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs for leaking so much information. A few men can be heard giggling in their bunks, if only you could elbow them too.

"Oh really?" Rex responds, his pitch heightening him as he asks. "Well, I'll definitely be there next time, and I'll ensure that I make up for my lack of presence," Rex promises, and knowing Rex, this is a promise he'll keep.

"I can't wait," you reply, softly yawning against Rex's chest.

"Neither can I," Fives comments from across the dorm, earning a giggle from Hardcase.

"Alright, men. That's enough. Go to sleep," Rex orders.

"Yeah, Captain's orders," you playfully comment, earning yet another sea of giggles.

Within time, the bunch calm down, and the air is soon graced with the soothing sounds of snoring clones. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, as your exhausted body is begging for some rest. You doze off, sandwiched snugly between an ARC Trooper and the Captain of the 501st.

What a dream!!!!

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gofancyninjaworld · 2 years

Text

A stone can be a treasure

I've been mooting talking about King and Saitama's relationship for ages, and until recently, I'd not appreciated how different it is between the manga and webcomic, how incredibly important it is in the manga and how big a difference it has made.

As far as most people are concerned, Saitama and King became friends when Saitama came to King's apartment, slew a giant crow that had it in for him, discovered the truth about King and decided to be his gaming buddy anyway.

See you below the cut for a lot more! :)

Those who play together...

It was initially a pretty casual friendship in that King and Saitama hung out and played games. It's not changed too much in the webcomic. King in the webcomic is still a very lonely character. He does a bit of this a bit of that, and he's making his slow, saccadic progress in his own way. And Saitama still gets to tell King home truths, without having to hear any back from King.

...fight together

However, in the manga...

King in the manga started to change with a very small decision. I've spoken before about how small decisions characters make snowball, taking Genos as an example. For King, that fateful decision came in chapter 77, when he decided to talk to Saitama as a person, the way Saitama had been the first person to actually talk to King as a person back in chapter 39.

King becomes the first person ever to call Saitama out on his shit. And critically, the first person whose advice on what Saitama might want to change Saitama was prepared to give any weight to. Briefly, but at least Saitama thought about it for a bit. Knowing Saitama, he'll probably act on it at some point in his own way.

That tiny decision firmed up their relationship enough for King to do something that would be unthinkable to his webcomic self -- call a monster over trusting that Saitama would have his back. He even advised Saitama on how best to approach the matter. Little thing, just shout at a monster. He literally shat himself in the process, but he did it.

From that, King develops so much more faith in Saitama that he agrees to return to the battlefield, trusting that Saitama would somehow show up. It made King's showdown with the cadre a much more deliberate affair and the unadulterated joy and relief with which King found his faith rewarded was a total bonus for us!

If that was all there was to King and Saitama's burgeoning relationship, it'd be pretty damn good. Going from casual friends to friends who can truly talk to one another, including saying the hard-to-hear things is pretty awesome. As much as Saitama listens to anybody, he listens to King. King being able to trust Saitama to the extent that he does is also amazing.

But that's not all...

Uncrossing The Stars

The best of friends don't just hold us accountable, they help us grow. King does not come between Saitama and Genos. In fact, he helps bridge the gap between them.

To begin with, King prompts Saitama to act positively rather than feel vaguely awkward in matters concerning his disciple, with the result that Saitama stops moping in the apartment and goes out to find out what's happened to Genos.... and not a moment too soon, either.

I still love King looking skeptically at Saitama as the latter tries to pass off his relief as blowing off steam.

One thing that is constant between Saitama in the webcomic and Saitama in the manga is that he is VERY SERIOUS ABOUT HIS HERO HOBBY. Saitama is entirely dedicated to his hero hobby, he believes in the value of heroism and he loves and protects heroes. He gets furious whenever anyone treats heroes or heroism with disrespect, whether it's Suiryu calling them worthless or Fubuki playing her silly cliquish games rather than being the best hero she can be.

As far as Saitama has been concerned, Genos is the guy who does hero work as a vehicle to get stronger (like when he fought Machine God G4) and sometimes comes off worse. It's felt increasingly unjust that Saitama has kept missing that Genos really is a hero. Saitama sees the aftermath of Genos's fights, but not the process, so he sees Genos's corroded body after the Deep Sea King spat on him, but not the little girl for whose sake Genos took being spat on. The perverse result is that we've seen Saitama prepared to recognise, respect, and encourage any hero -- Mumen Rider, Glasses, Child Emperor to name but three -- *except* the one right in front of him.

It looked like things were no different when Saitama found Genos on the battlefield and asked who'd beaten him up (his disciple as victim). Since Genos wouldn't speak for himself (that's just who he is -- he's one of those people who sees explaining as excuse-making), King told Saitama that Genos came to the state that he was in because he'd been protecting Tatsumaki. Just like that, King changed the way Saitama saw Genos.

Watch Saitama's face and attitude change as he sees his disciple as a hero for the first time. This is the first time Saitama is seeing someone he would care to acknowledge as his disciple. It would not have happened but for King's intervention. In his little stone-like way, King has set right a great injustice.

It's not that King's fundamentally different in the webcomic. It's just that he doesn't have that kind of relationship with Saitama. I really feel the difference because there's no one holding Saitama to any kind of account in the webcomic. Decision by decision, in the manga King is forging a different path from the one he otherwise might have trod.

King may have latched onto the stone metaphor that Sekingar used to describe people of small capabilities who leverage them well, and goodness, has he proved a treasure in Saitama's life.

#OPM #one punch man #manga #King #Saitama #Genos #opm webcomic #meta #King being the only person who can tell Saitama off and Saitama being the only one King can trust #the way these two have developed is incredible #the effect it's had in changing Saitama's outlook is incredible #I didn't notice it until I compared it to the webcomic where King *doesn't* talk back to Saitama #no wonder Saitama is much lonelier there #also bless King for speaking up for Genos and reminding Saitama not to take him for granted #also bridging Saitama's misunderstanding of his disciple -- King is forever the most precious character

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ballorawan740 · 3 years

Text

SCP Scenarios: Yandere!SCP x Evil!Reader

Requested by: @Charlie_Sharlotte

So a little bit of context here:

Yes, I've done a Yandere!SCP x Reader before, but this one has a slight twist to it as requested by the user

The reader is just an ordinary human, just like my other post (you can get quick access HERE)

The only difference being how the Yandere!SCPs would react and the reader is evil

I'll be basing this off my other post, if you see something that's rather similar, that's why

SCP 073 (Cain)

When you first met Cain, neither of you had thought of much at first and just greeted each other as usual

Then, of course, you both became really good friends

Some would even say you both were inseparable as wherever they see with of you, the other would be close by

Not long after, you both just started dating which just happened

His yandere traits would gradually come through, but since it wasn't much different to his usual self, none of you would've noticed the change

Apart from you, of course, cus this man wouldn't let you be in harm's way and if you were, he would have to be with you the whole entire time

When Cain discovers that you work for another GOI, he was shocked and tried to -forcefully- make you stay loyal to the foundation which didn't work well

You stayed loyal to the Serpent's Hand and Cain warned the other members of the foundation

Not only did you find out about the news, but you were also very much aware of Cain's yandere tendencies in which you warned your team about this

The news that you were working with the Serpent's Hand got to the O5 council to which they kept a close eye on you

However, some would even call them bluff as you had made your way through the rankings in less than a year, displaying your intelligence and 'loyalty towards the foundation

As well as this, you were able to deceive most of the staff at the foundation, so you would be the last person anyone would suspect if there were an issue between the Foundation and the Serpent's Hand

Due to the love-hate relationship between both parties, the O5 Council had announced you as the 'bridge' between both the Foundation and the Serpent's Hand if either party were in need of help, within the reason of course

As for you and Cain, you tried to distance yourself but Cain's yandere tendencies forbid from that happening

And so you stayed, thinking that you could use him as a scapegoat

SCP 076 (Abel)

Abel gets slightly physical when he's a yandere

Like hella physical to the point he'd tie you up in his box and go on full rage mode if anyone tries to help save you or even question about your whereabouts

However, since you were one of the hostile type SCPs used by the Serpent's Hand, you knew that you could use Abel's yandere traits to your advantage

Since you weren't a yandere yourself, you would more often than not, find yourself trapped in his box

But since you had the ability to summon just about anything out of thin air, just like Abel, you were able to record and complete your tasks without being disturbed

Even though Abel knew that you were a hostile SCP, he was somehow oblivious to your abilities and your secret mission in the Foundation

The O5 council were concerned and intrigued that you were willing to be trapped inside his box and when asked, you kept silent

Abel would do anything to keep you by his side which was annoying if you had something to do, but you were a master manipulator so you were able to bribe him

As for the foundation staff, you could play off as not so hostile for now type SCP unless you were provoked, so most of the time, they'd just leave you in your containment room

During one of the containment breaches, Abel discovered that you were working for another GOI and attempted to question you about this but to no avail

As for the O5 council, they were able to get some information bout you from Abel, but it didn't help very much other than the fact you worked for a GOI

Neither the O5 council nor Abel knew which group you worked for and the council debated on whether to terminate you or not

They have come up with a conclusion to not terminate you for now as you were able to stop Abel from breaching the foundation

However, they had to keep a close eye on you both due to your activities with another GOI and may manipulate Abel into assisting you

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

This adorable little yandere orange blob here is the reason why most people in the foundation would suspect you as an enemy to the foundation

As in, either trying to destroy the world, working for another GOI or both, type of way

When 999's yandere traits kick in, he'd definitely be slightly possessive when he'd jealous but no more than that

999 would most definitely be oblivious to your evil traits until he sees it for himself, just like Abel

I feel that the foundation staff also wouldn't suspect a thing since you have that pure, innocent vibe

Since you give off those vibes, you tend to get away with thingy hella easily, sometimes it would go right under the noses of the O5 council, even though you're doing it right in front of them

I have high doubts that anyone would've caught you in the act of betraying the foundation or kidnapping the SCPs

And even if they did and was absolutely certain it was you, most of the others would call them delusional

There was that one time where 999 caught you with another SCP and got hella jealous but you were able to persuade him to stop ignoring you

The second time he caught you was when you were in the middle of releasing some Keter and Euclid class SCPs but wasn't able to stop you or warn the others in time

When the doctors found out, it was too late and you were with the Choas Insurgency

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

This little sh- right here would literally threaten to kill everyone you've ever cared about right in front of you and he would do it again and again

Luckily, you were cunning and deceitful, some would even say that you come across as suave in what you're doing

And in this case, you would play along with 682 like a game and this giant MF wouldn't even know (cuz he do be thicc)

The foundation is well aware of 682 being such a yandere and it's not like they could do anything other than observe

However, what's even scarier is you being able to multitask in various fields, making you a perfect doctor/agent they have

You were also planning on releasing the SCPs just for your own gain and would even go as far as deceiving the other GOIs just for some helping hand and gathering some intel

Not only that, you have used 682 as your scapegoat many times since he was known for causing various breaches

During that time, you were able to free most SCPs with a little help and those agents would soon be declared missing or dead under mysterious circumstances

Nobody would ever suspect you since you put on such an innocent facade and portrayed yourself as just someone who did as they're told

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

As a yandere, 049 would most definitely be similar to 035 and tie you up as a punishment

Sometimes, he would even go as far as using his 'subordinates' to monitor you while you were being left alone in a room while he's doing something

Normally, 049 would avoid punishing you and would explain to you what you did wrong with a harsher tone as if to intimidate you

However, as time went by, you've learnt a lot from the doctor and was able to adapt to various situations just like him

Being an ordinary human being, you'd constantly have to avoid touching his hands with yours or if you ever remembered, you'd wear gloves in case 049 would hold yours out of nowhere

If there were any breaches, the first thing he'd do is to look for you and make sure that you're by his side constantly

Little did he know, you were the corporate behind the breach as you wanted to seek revenge on the foundation for taking your family away and killing them all

And of course, you've learnt from the best from those around you, especially 049

In your head, you planned to use 049 to your advantage like always, but instead of using him as a scapegoat, you were planning on getting him to go against the foundation's will and join you

However, a part of you also wanted to use him as a scapegoat since all he does is dote around you and be possessive af

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

This yandere right here is not only possessive but manipulative af and if you didn't know any better, you would've been wrapped around his fingers

But you did know better, so like many other 'evil people, you used this at your advantage since you know that 035 is all over you

You were amazing at seducing both men and women, but mainly guys, hand to hand combat, hacking, weapon knowledge and even cross-dressing, but you'd much rather not do that and hide in the dark (you introverted shy mf)

From time to time, you were able to make 035 leave you as you had "behaved well and should be rewarded" as 035 puts it

During that time, you'd hack into the Foundation's most secretive files and grab all the information you needed in order to achieve whatever goals you intended to finish

Not even 035 or the Foundation knows about this and if they ever catch on about the hacking incident, they wouldn't even take a second thought that it was you (since you have such a pretty face and nobody would suspect a thing, you're welcome for the compliment)

Since you were reliable, independent and trustworthy in the Foundation's eyes and you were able to adapt to 035's persona and adopt it into your work, you'd occasionally be sent to the other GOIs as an undercover spy

Little did everyone know, you used every bit of tool and would even use your position as an undercover to blackmail and even spill out the secrets of your mission just to get to where you want anyone to be

The Foundation would never have guessed your goals and would consider this incident as a slip-up and allow you to continue if you were able to keep everything under control

Not only that but they were soon informed that wherever you go, an individual or a whole team of people from the GOIs, including the Foundation's, would go missing or dead

Nobody knows why and they wouldn't even dare to question your authority since you were so high up

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

You were just one of the cleaners at the Foundation which so happened to bond well with 096 despite him being a yandere

096 as a yandere wasn't as bad as the others as he'll only go into depression or possessive mode, but even then, he was still handleable (IT'S CUZ HE HAS THAT MFING FACE THAT NO MOTHER COULD LOVE)

Anyways, I doubt that 096 would have enough intelligence to gather that you're evil for quite some time, but that doesn't mean that he's completely stupid

Moreso oblivious since he wouldn't believe anyone who says that you're working for another organisation and that you're just using him

When he went back to his cell, you came to check up on him and heard him crying, so you asked what happened

He told you all the 'lies' about you working for Chaos Insurgency and you quickly dismissed that with ease, knowing that 096 will only listen to you

You had informed your captain/team leader about the Foundation catching on and they made sure that you're still 'clean' and sent a couple of others to aid you

Once everyone got a hold of your plan, 096 quickly came out and snatched you, but not before killing all the agents

Basically, he's your personal bodyguard and servant who just happens to be depressed and slightly possessive

SCP 105 (Iris)

Oh dear oh dear oh dear

Iris is beyond possessive

She'll basically tie you up for days if she wanted to and you would have to try and outwit her since she has military training

Outwitting her would be hard since she's rather intelligent too

So what you did was to listen to her for quite some time in order to buy some time for your crew to sneak in and grab whatever they need before they flee

You made sure to be extra kind and sweet to our Iris here since she somehow managed to regain access to her camera

Your team was quickly notified so they proceeded with caution

Just because you managed to fool Iris doesn't mean you could fool the Foundation

As the Foundation proceed to warn Iris, you attempted to reassure her that it's not what it looks like, but she's not stupid at all

Depending on the situation, she might tie you up for days if not weeks and let you consume the tiniest amount of food and water

However, if you somehow managed to free yourself, defend yourself if she fighting you or outwit her, you would run back to your base to never be seen again

SCP 106 (Old Man)

An old yandere like 106 would make ordinary people think he's just old, crippled and possessive as well as perhaps a sugar daddy (Sorry, not)

Anyhow, aside from him being such a yandere, he wouldn't exactly notice you being evil and all unless it's explicitly shown in front of him and even then, he wouldn't believe it

The researchers, however, did manage to catch onto your evil side as you were midway through releasing various SCPs, including 682, 939 (FREE MY PET PLS), 049 and a couple of other well known Keter and Euclid class SCPs

They tried to arrest you and take you into full custody and interrogate you with the help of 105 and you found out soon that they both had a deal

The deal was that the researchers would get as much information out of you before disposing you to 106

You took advantage of this deal and managed to send a message to your team about it just to make sure that you're protected and someone would be sent to help you

Once you've done your mission in freeing certain SCPs, you were tasked to shut down or destroy the Foundation but failed

And not only that but your team were also caught in assisting you and breaking free the SCPs and were then killed on site

Since you were caught, your team leader sent down another dispatch to kill you and retrieve all the necessary information they needed

But since you didn't tell the Foundation everything you knew, they made an agreement with you by telling them everything you knew in exchange for your safety and you obliged

You also went to 106 and made him have a deal with both you and the researchers, but knowing the old man, you're more likely going to be killed by that SCP than by your team

Dr Simon Glass

This mf softie of a yandere right here would definitely know you're up to something

I mean, he's a psychologist, so of course, he'll get inside of your head before you would even blink twice

He wouldn't call you out just yet since he doesn't know the full extent of you working under someone or if you're working for yourself and using others to your own advantage

As for you, you knew that Simon wouldn't just let you go if he ever found out on what you're plotting and nor would he help bail you out just because you asked so nicely

So to avoid this problem, you asked your fellow subordinates from Dr Wondertainment to help cover for you

The MTFs caught on that there was newly discovered SCPs on their site and were quickly ordered to exterminated, neutralise or capture them for the safety of them and the others and to conduct further research

Little did they know, it was your little stunt to just get closer to Dr Glass and to use him in your plans

After many months of studying each and every SCPs and conducting a plan for your team, the researchers finally discovered that it was you behind all the mess with the help of Simon Glass

Realising that it is too dangerous for you to be working along in the Foundation, you fled,, leaving Simon Glass all alone and wanting to keep you in his room forever

Simon demanded a search party to find you but was denied

Since you've been caught already, you sent somebody else to do the work for you

And that assistant just so happens to look just like you (totally not your evil twin or anything)

Dr Jack Bright

Jack Bright had you locked up in a chamber below the Foundation when he had discovered you being the culprit behind the recent breaches and other related incidents

You were just as vicious and deadly as most of the best agents the Foundation ever has and staying in the Foundation had just turned you insane and just as sadistic

You enjoyed causing so much chaos, leaving all the innocent, cheery memories behind and new friends and family you've made along the way was long gone

Bright wasn't stupid, he may be goofy and somewhat chaotic at times, he'd been in the Foundation for longer than anyone (he'd also be earning more than the amount of money in your bank account)

He's definitely one of the most intelligent doctors and most definitely has access to most files and holds more secrets than any seniors in the Foundation

There's no doubt that he would find out about you and lock you up in no time

Knowing you, he's very much certain that you'll wreak havoc on the Foundation within a matter of hours for no apparent reason

The other staff would deem you as an SCP but Bright dismisses that and nobody has ever heard of you since

He tortured you for hours and its no wonder why you'd become so visibly and mentally insane

Dr Alto Clef

Clef was able to somehow find a way to unlock your secrets about you working with another GOI named Church of the Broken God

And despite having to work together with a handful of times, both GOIs remain enemies, so Alto would have to keep a close eye on you

On occasions, he would blackmail you, chain you up and inflict pain on you just to get some intel off from you

However, little did he know, you've learnt from the best liars and was able to conceal the truth from him

Clef may be good at finding information on a person and threaten others, but you were able to adapt as quick as the speed of light and was manipulative just like him

Unlike the others, Clef would most definitely snitch on you, but that's no surprise since you've done just that to him with the Church of the Broken God

Moreover, Clef didn't know that you were married to someone working for the very same GOI and was shocked once he found out

The Foundation found it difficult to track you and your spouse since you're both highly trained along with the data you've gathered on the foundation staff and SCPs

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

Benjamin Kodraki, another softer yandere, would have never known that you worked with the Deer College if it wasn't for his butterflies

He would give you the benefit of the doubt at first, but when you kept doing his questions and threats, he would give in and tell the O5 council

They would dismiss Kondraki at first, but once they've discovered a chain of unusual events happening at the Foundation, they knew it was much more than just a coincidence and took action

Kondraki aided them in finding you, but to no avail, except for one of your long term friends (you have friends?! what a shocker)

He had chained up your friend and they exposed your hideout spot which just so happened to be right underneath the Foundation

When he had found you, he forcefully dragged you up to his room and tied you up as you saw your friend's lifeless body beside you

You hated him because of his yandere tendencies and tried to break free

Luckily for you, the professors at the College managed to set you free, fleeing with you before Kondraki and the other members of the Foundation could do anything

Later on, Kondraki soon realised that you were in the Deer College just to gain additional knowledge and to retrieve some samples of the SCPs in the Foundation to conduct your own research and art collection

Not only that, you were exceptionally good at history and social science and Invocations and Summoning which was why you picked both subjects to study further with your creativity in the art department as your hobby

178 notes · View notes

dourpeep · 3 years

Note

12,,, with soft dom Xiao? he takes up 95 percent of my brain agflgkhk and i love the way you write him too

prompt in question

Xiao just so happens to also take up 95% of my brain. Most of the time. Otherwise its Albedo and the 5% running in the background is always Scaramouche.

Summary: Its a mortal thing to heal with kisses, right?

Contains: Dom!Xiao x gn!reader, suggesetive, soft Dom Xiao, light injuries, comfort, established relationship

Being an adventurer, commissions can go sideways at any moment. Things just happen sometimes. Luckily, you managed to finish today's with only a few scrapes, maybe a bruise or two.

After all of that, you could definitely use a long nap.

With Wangshu inn not far, you figure it'd be best to stop by, maybe even see your favorite adeptus while you're there.

Like always, he's already waiting on the balcony having watched as you trudged across the bridge. Xiao takes his time to inspect you for your wounds. Though hardly a stranger to injury, the sight of them marring your features makes his chest ache. A gloved hand brushes over a purpling bruise over your cheek and a trouble look settles in his features.

Each touch is deliberate, careful, all an attempt to not cause you further harm. Once he's done, he presses his lips just besides the one on your cheek.

"I could make you feel better."

The skin beneath his lips flush with a flood heat, your brain at a loss of words.

But Xiao continues to press another kiss over a small cut beneath your jaw.

"If it's alright with you."

And who were you to refuse?

Your lips meet his, and he tugs you back to your room at the inn. He takes his time when he sheds you of your clothing and places his lips over each cut, each bruise. Eyes fluttering closed, you sigh.

It's one of those nights where Xiao takes you, pulling you apart with his touch and tongue, ending with him massaging out the aches from the day's work.

#peep peep #anon asks #xiao #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact xiao #genshin x reader #brainrot #jskeitkfkd yet again is more suggestive than smutty please forgive me JFJFN

257 notes · View notes

iamdarkness · 3 years

Text

Taboo

Alfonse x Summoner.NSFW 18+

This one goes to the people who wanted an Alfonse Summer atl. At least we got Freyr.

Taboo: from Tongan tabu ‘set apart, forbidden’

Summoner POV

As a person who comes from the “World of Steel” I am be very used to most levels of nakedness in people. I mean, when you do P. E. at school or when you go to the gym or running at the park, or the beach, and watch TV; we are all bombarded by all kinds of nakedness. We are used to looking at other people’s bodies as something normal.

When I got to Askr I met heroes of all kinds and many of them are just like me in that they find levels of nakedness normal. Take Hawkeye for for example. He is quite a gentleman and in his culture it is quite normal to be half naked.

Leading the heroes I got used to them and their bodies enough that I view most of them with a more clinical eye, like a doctor would. When they are wounded and I help treat them, I see their bodies just as a doctor would. The same goes when I see them in the beach or the spring. This make them much more comfortable around me. So much so that some of the heroes have tried to play tricks on me and see me crack.

Like the time the most unlikely pair, consisting of Niles and Henry played a trick on older Ike. They took his clothes when he was in one of the baths, locked his room and hid his clothes in my office (which is attached to Alfonse’s). They told him not to worry “ The Summoner is asleep.” I was definitely not asleep and saw the guy in all of his muscular glory. Did I get flustered? Not really. I mean at first it was like “WTF”, but I was not ogling the guy! He was all freaked out, and I got worried. Besides, I have seen him almost naked before. What is a little more skin? Well it wasn’t little to be fair…it was actually quite a lot…

I was quietly reading a report on my writing desk, all hunched over, when he came silently in and stood right in front of me. I waited for him to talk. I thought it was Alfonse at first, coming to get my report, so I did not even say anything. I am used to him just coming in and sit to wait for me to finish my work quietly. Then Ike stands just in front of the desk and I look up to see a mop of dark blue hair over his “Ragnell”. I look all the way up to see Ike looking over at the bookcase behind me. He was not yet aware I was awake.

-Ike? What are you looking for?- I ask calmly looking back to the bookcase behind me to see what he was looking for. I hear a yelp and something heavy falling down. I look around and find him on the floor covering himself with his hands. His eyes were wide opened and he could not talk for a second. He just kept opening and closing his mouth and said “ I can explain.”in a strangled voice. Alfonse chooses that exact moment to come inside and finds me standing up to give Ike my coat so he can cover himself up. What does he see? I am undressing my self in front of Ike and Ike is naked on the floor.

...NICE…

Yes we were able to clear that up. Alfonse even laughed about it and still does sometimes, but that was only the beginning.

Some time later Dieck comes inside the study Alfonse and I use in the library. Now we all know Dieck always uses the bare minimum on clothes, but this time he is wearing only his pants and boots. As soon as he comes in, he starts taking his pants off (And of course he is not wearing underwear) and looks at Alfonse and say.

-Oh Your Majesty is here too? Oh don’t worry; I don’t mind.- He now is butt naked and kicking his boots off. I turn to Alfonse with a ‘WTF’ face and I see him tomato red and very angry. He looks at me and…Why…is he angry at me too? What did I do?

-Dieck… what the hell is going on?- I ask calmly because I feel Alfonse is going to blow a gasket and any loud noise will set it off.

-I am here for the check up.- He says simply and his smile falters a little, looking sideways at Alfonse. I focus on his face like it is a normal conversation. Doctors and nurses can do this and so can I.

-What check up?

-The one you ordered to check our birthmarks and scars, just in case we are killed and there is no other way to identify our bodies.- I turn to Alfonse and I give him a questioning look, but he appears to not have heard anything except the “the one you ordered”. He is looking at us both angrily back and forth.

-Umm…Well now that you mentioned it… It sounds like a good idea, but I have never given that order. Whoever told you that? -Still focused on the face.

-One of the soldiers…so it is not true?- He asks now red in the face, which is very weird because this man has no sense of shame when it comes to showing off. Then he goes to cover himself with his hands, but too late Dieck, I already saw it all.

-Well no, but it is a good idea, right Alfonse?- I say thoughtfully. He seemed to have regained his senses and is now still red, but his face is lowered and he just nods.

-Oh…I should go then and find that (he whispers some curses under his breath)…I… -He takes his pants and puts them on. I start making a note about the idea to tell Anna.- I am sorry ______.

- Don’t worry Dieck. No harm done. This has happened before and just so you know I liked the idea, but if we do make it happen, it would be a member of the healing team doing the check up.- He looks skeptically at Alfonse who is pinching the bridge of his nose and has his eyes closed. You know, that face he does when he is about to lose his patience? Well that one.

-Oh! Thanks for letting me know.

-I want to know if you can identify the soldier that told you this. Please see me tomorrow after breakfast,at the training ground.- Alfonse tells Dieck and there is a determined look on his face. Dieck looks back at him and with just the same look, agrees to it.

At the end we did use that idea, but meanwhile I had four other heroes coming in to undress in my presence. One of them being Lady Camilla who agreed to dismember whoever was the culprit of the trick. The other was Libra who looked about to faint when he was informed he had been tricked by someone. King Claude, who laughed about it and congratulated whoever had bested him in his kind of game; and finally Sonia, who paraded around the room, even after I told her it was not necessary for her to undress. The culprit ended up being Xane ,and Marth was not lenient with him. Neither was I. I mean whoever plays a trick like that on Libra?! Yes! He is a guy!

This keeps happening periodically, specially with new heroes. It is like some kind of hazing ritual.

At this point I have seen at least one version of all the heroes naked for one reason or another and like I said before, they seemed to be very comfortable around me and my professionalism.

Yet I, being myself can’t get used to showing much of my own body due to my insecurities. I mean I may exercise and maybe train but I keep myself still kind of covered up almost all the time. It is a uniform after all. I even have to wear that tiara they gave me. I look like royalty XD

Askr itself has it’s own norms and they are far more conservative when it came to dress codes and overall behavior. I mean Alfonse sometimes sounds like I imagine my great grandpa sounded back in the day. And this is when I realized something. I have never seen Alfonse in any kind of undress and…It kind of bother me. Why? Because he was the only one person I was attracted to in all of Askr. I loved that man’s mind, heart, personality and skill…in everything he did.

I knew I was in love with Alfonse at this point, but it had taken another Alfonse showing a little chest to understand that I was the the most sexually frustrated of all my life and that looking at his chest was doing things no one else had done in their entire nakedness. Hell not even porn or hentai had given me the high I got from imaging my Alfonse in that outfit. I mean…not that I used to watch porn or hentai. I know what they are, but the time I did watch, it was all meh. I even thought it was funny. I mean, who isn’t curious about that ? I suppose we have all gone at least once and taken a look at it? Right?…right?

I remember plain as day I stood there stunned into silence, and probably mouth agape the whole time. I must have looked like an idiot or a pervert! My Alfonse was red as a tomato and trying so hard to avoid my gaze. At the end of the day, the only thing I got out of him was a little laugh and a small “I am so glad, we do not share that costume here in Askr.”

…..FUCK!

I find my self starting at his UN-globed hands when he is drinking tea or eating. I try not to, but the white smooth surface of the back of his hands contrast with the rough calloused fingers, so used to gripping sword and shield. They can also play the sweetest of sounds on a violin and I find that so sexy. Those same long white fingers so tempting and beautiful in their strength and skillfulness. Sometimes I stop my self from wondering how they would feel and...<<What them fingers do Alfonse?!! No ! Stop!>>

It is true I touch him often. Touch is my love language and even though I always make sure to give people that do mind, their personal space, I do know that Alfonse does not mind. Alfonse may not be a huger, but it does not mean he does not enjoy being touched by people he holds close to him or for them to be near him. Also yes, I have helped him with his wounds but, most of the time I am to damn worried to actually take time to enjoy the touch of his skin and to be hones I find that quite a violation of trust, so I do not indulge in it.

Sometimes he has caught me starting at the brim of his scarf and under-armor for a glimpse of his neck and I feel so embarrassed by it, but the thought of kissing him there is so tempting to me and I long so much to see past that barrier. He always covers himself again when he sees it is revealing more that that fraction of his neck… And Lord above! Is he smiling?

The curse of all of this is, that yes we have Summer here in Askr, but it is not as hot and you have to travel to the beach to be seriously hot. He has never gone to the beach with us, since I arrived here. I am not counting the times we do go, because Anna comes up with some scheme to raise money for the order, because we all wear the uniform then. Whenever he goes to the hot spring; he does it by himself, when Sharena and I are doing something else. Even while going to the river he wears long sleeves, because …bugs. I have asked Sharena and she just answered that she had not noticed and why I was interested….Oh you know…scientific purposes Sharena…

At first I feel so sad and rejected. Fine…I get it. You are not interested in me and do not welcome my intrusive looks…but…he gives me so many mixed signals! Why is he so close at meetings and I can feel his fingers touching mine. He has taken my hands in his many times. When another hero flirts with me he always appears out of nowhere with knitted brows and a disapproving stare. Prince Hrid came to say ‘Hi’ once and to talk to me, and next thing I know Alfonse drops everything to be next to me as well. Hrid even asked me if we were engaged ! I wish Hrid!

Well I suppose that is what friends do right? Maybe he does not want me falling in love with a hero and leaving Askr while they need me here. But I talked to him already. I am not returning “home” and I am not leaving…because…How can I leave and not see him again? Not that I wanted to return “home” to begin with, and it seemed impossible to fall in love with someone else other than him.

I have seen heroes flirting with him as well, and he seems unimpressed by any of them. I have heard other heroes telling the rejected ones, “He has eyes only for the Summoner.” …But what had they seen that I don’t? So I go and ask Sharena and she just laughs it up and says to give him time. He is shy and self conscious.

…So he does like me, but is very shy and very busy and very self conscious and insecure? OK…I can work with that. Like a great elf king said once; “I am patient; I can wait.” But not that much cause I’m not an elf.

Then Lif came and I thought “Hell! Even his grandpa show more skin than him!”

Lif came like a shadow from the grave that will take your last breath. To be honest, he looked more like Death than Hel herself. Except… He was HOT. I felt bad for even thinking that, when the Goddess of Death was trying to end us all, and most specially Alfonse. And you see, that is when I got angry. How the heck was an ancestor of the Askr royalty helping that crazy witch, end his descendants?

Lif attacked us and tried to, I suppose…kidnap me? He made a bee line to where I was standing and fell all the soldiers on his way. It was weird! I was about to bolt, because the training I had, would not stop the guy who just felled like twenty guys on his way, but something, not fear, took hold of me and I just…those eyes… It was like ten seconds in which I looked into his eyes and saw so many emotions in them, that I could not understand and then I could not move….ten seconds and he was already there in front of me, not attacking but there!

Alfonse came before Lif had taken me or whatever he was going to do. He ended up with a bruised knee and ankle. I went to help him with some salves and bandages when we were done with the rest of the more serious injured people. He took off his shoe and rolled up the under armor. His ankle was not swollen and his knee was bruised but it was not swollen. I put some salve any way.

-What happened? I saw it from afar and felt I would not get there fast enough. Where was Dimitri?- He said a little angry, since King Dimitri was one of my supports alongside him and he was tasked today with being my guardian. I was still massaging his ankle not even thinking about it.

-They were circling us from the back and Dimitri had to fall back to take care of it…Umm…I don’t know what happened. It was weird. He looked at me and he just…

-I saw it too.- Said Sharena who came to stand behind Alfonse.- It was like he hit you with a spell.

-It didn’t feel, like a magic attack. I was more like… I don’t know…- I felt weird about it, so I just made some stupid joke to lighten the mood- Why didn’t y’all tell me your grandpa was so hot? Heh , heh, heh heh! What? It’s not my fault! He kind of looks like you Alfonse.- Hey I was nervous and I do this when I get nervous!

At first They gave me their “ Seriously?” stare, but Sharena catches on quick and starts laughing out loud. Alfonse? Well he scowls and close his eyes and then takes his foot away from my hands. What?? wait I didn’t get the chance to enjoy that! Damn! Next thing I know, he is taking his sock and starts putting in on. I see his smooth white skin peppered with… is that golden hair? Does it have a blue in it? and my throat closes dry. I follow his movements, as hypnotizing as a dance, rolling up that white sock that is taking away my hopes and dreams. Then the under armor goes down and boot on. It took him like ten seconds, that I totally did not count. Then his hands were covered as well.

I look up at him with my hands still hovering in the same place as when he took away his leg and see him smiling sideways. I compose myself and…Wait…What? Is he doing this on purpose? Seriously? And the worst part is, that it should not bother me at all, but the truth is…I am very bothered by it. He has become a some sort of taboo to me and GOD how I love the guy! If it was someone else like Robin who never looses that coat of his and globes; I would not care! But I love him Lord. Why is he like this? I used to thank God I was not one of those feet fetishes people, and now I will be dreaming of his feet. Thanks Alfonse!

Joking. I respect feet fetish people. To each their own.

The point is that I feel like those people in Victorian novels, where they get all hot and bothered by someone’s ankle showing more than normal! Oh but what an ankle that was tho’. Stop. Focus!

I resolve to see him as clinically as any other hero and not stare at the shape of his ears and think of how I want to whisper how much I love him while kissing it…Grrr…I’m doing it again.

Days later we see Lif again and Alfonse is cursed…We have nine days. Good thing Hel has not seen The Ring or it might have been only seven. Yeah I joke now, but back then I was about to commit murder and then kill myself…or something just as dramatic.

We searched for days, a way to undo the curse and we found nothing. You’d think I would have taken a page from Dean Winchester's book and played the “last days on Earth” trope to get into his pants; but to be honest nothing like that even crossed my mind at the time! I was so desperate to keep him alive that nothing else matter to me. He could have paraded naked in front of me at the time I was at the library and I would not have noticed…Well, maybe I would have, but it didn’t happen so it doesn’t count

Until the sixth night of the curse.

There was a knock at the door to my chamber. Oh! Did I mentioned we have a shared study? Because we do. It is between our chambers and it can only be entered from our rooms. It was his idea and it was for safety reasons. The nights I have spent sitting by the chimney staring at his door…but never mind that. He knocked at my chamber door and when I opened it, he was about to leave. He was wearing sleeping pants, a long sleeve night shirt and socks, all in white.

We had fallen asleep next to each other at the library before of course, especially during the days he was cursed. And yes we used to huddle together during our march through Nifl. It was effing cold OK. We also usually had our sleeping rolls next to each other during campaigns, because we fall asleep while talking or after a watch,but we had never slept together on a bed. Beds are…intimate to him I suppose.

This night however, he came in and he just goes on and sit on my bed. He said nothing. I sat next to him and reached over to give him a hug. He took this as his cue and hugged back and didn’t let go. He clung to me with such force I was starting to feel dizzy. I asked him to stay the night. He nodded and still said nothing. I blew out the candle I was using to read and we went to sleep while he hugged me tightly. It was no surprise to me, but it was not so much fear that I could see in him. It was so many emotions, that fear seemed to be the least of his problems; but of course he was afraid. We spend together the following nights of his curse. Funny thing is …all those nights I dreamed of his Grandpa, watching over from my balcony window.

And did I had a glimpsed of something while sleeping together? No. He came in and blew the candle out and by the time I woke up he was already awake. Not like I would have gone and taken advantage of his sleeping form to explore or something. I just thought later that if I had woken up before him, then may be I would have seen his shirt riding up or his pants lowered a little or maybe his sock had fallen off or something. Oh well…They were still the best nights of my life, even if they didn’t feel like that at the time. I mean, I got to be held like I was the most precious and sacred treasure in the world by my beloved. I would care for nothing else.

Then…Grandpa is actually Alfonse from the future…

Lif, as he goes by now, told us everything that had happened in his Askr. Which is weird because I had been dreaming of something like that and I thought it was stress.

We spent some days in that dead world and I got to see Lif a few times. He looked curious about me, but at the same time I noticed he was avoiding me. The way he looked at Sharena really broke my heart every time I caught him starting at her. In turn Sharena looked ready to adopt him, if only he would let her do it.

One of those night I was having a nightmare about me dying while I saw Anna drop dead as if by magic. I woke up to find Lif watching me from afar. I got up and went to talk to him before he ran away.

We talk for a while. I do not want to intrude on painful memories, but he seems to know me so well it feels natural to talk to him, just like it is to Alfonse.

-You two…you are not lovers yet?- He asks eyeing me sideways.

-No. Where you…?

-Yes. After the first attack. We spent some weeks fighting Hel together. Is he still playing hard to get then?-Oh and there it was.

-Oh! So it is not my imagination! God I thought I was going insane! Oh that Bunny suit messed me up! I love that chest!…wait. Is that why you have your chest out? - He nods.- And the glow…I noticed Thrasir does not have that glow and I love glow in the dark…ermm… It is an awesome design I have to say. I like it. It is sexy.- I felt bad for the lack of tact but at the same time he needed to know I did not find him ugly or scary any more.

-You were always odd like that Summoner.- He says that in his deep voice, and it conveys a lot of feelings.

Did he let me touch his chest? No…and I didn’t really ask to be honest. My respects to Lif. He gave up everything for us. I owe him a lot.

Well, now I knew for sure and I could confront him or let him keep doing it, or maybe just seduce him. It was strange. I always thought it only worked on men, but I guess it does work goes both ways! At least it help me to fall in love with his mind and heart first, not his body.

Next day we were walking out of Lif’s castle when the floor gave in and Alfonse and I fell through it. Luckily it was not even high, but I am not as tall as Alfonse and with my luck, part of my coat and shirt got caught on a sharp part of a broken stone pillar, and I was left hanging about one feet off the ground by one shoulder. I tried wiggling off the coat but I could not do it.

-Are you hurt _____?- Alfonse asks worriedly getting up from where he landed on the floor.

-No! I think I just got scratched! But I can’t unhook my self.

- Only you _____.- Says Alfonse smiling and getting dust out of his uniform.

-Thanks Alfonse…Can you help me down?

He looks around and up for a while and then stares at me for a few minutes. Probably thinking how to approach the problem, but seriously I think he could just reach up and unhook me. He is tall enough for that.

He comes close to me and circle my waist with his left arm and places his left leg between my legs to find leverage on the pillar behind me. He reaches over my head with his right arm to unhook my coat. Being this close to him is so exiting. My heart begins to race and I start feeling kind of hot. I try not to think about it and avoid my gaze from his face, but I can’t help looking at him.

There was not much light coming down from the hole above us, but I could see the side of his face and ear…yeah the same ear I wanted to…OK! Not now! He took this time to move his leg up to hold my weight up, and I was left straddling it. He kind of wiggled it to adjust and…Oh boy! It felt good, good.

<< Oh no! Don’t move it anymore…>> I was praying for him not to move that leg, because God in heaven, I was going to come right there and then.

…And he moved it again but higher and harder…

-Mmmn- Oh GOD! I did not just moan into his ear. I mean, I am not horny all the time, come on! It is just that, he is so close I can smell him. He smells so deliciously manly, and his leg is touching just the right places!!

Meanwhile he is frozen in place. It seems like he is thinking about what to do or maybe just not thinking at all. I personally think he will be leaving me hanging there to be hones. I am so embarrassed, I lower my face to hide it, but we are so close, I end up hiding my face in the crook of his neck.

He gasps and I can feel his arm tightening on my waist and I get even closer to him. I feel him moving his head a little as if to see my face and then…he moves the leg again as if testing it. This time slowly. I tried and fail to stifle another moan but it still comes out. He moves his hips upwards and keeps moving the leg. It creates just the right amount of friction needed. I feel my hips move on their own to meet him.

-Alfonse…- My legs tighten around his and when I come close to his manhood I can feel his arousal as well.

-_________- He whispers my name softly as my leg touches him. All this while he is still moving that blessed leg back and ford. I am panting at this point and he feels like he is in the same situation. All of this brought me to my knees. I came hard. I sat there shuddering in his arms and biting my hand because the stone caused every little noise to sound louder. I felt him kissing my hair.

We heard some loud footsteps up above us and then…

-Hey! You need help down there!- I hear Barst’s voice over my head. He does not sound or look like he heard anything.

-We are fine…I just need …to get her down.- Alfonse’s voice sound a little strained but Barst takes it to mean he es working on helping me down. Just like that, he unhooks my coat and lowers me down gently, still not letting go.

-I’m getting a ladder!- He’s gone and we can hear his footsteps getting farther away.

Alfonse steps forward still with me in his arms ,until my back is against the pillar and then looks at me and kisses me hard.

I am dizzy by the time he lets go. - He is coming back.- He says against my neck and bites into it. I am sure they could hear that whimper that left my mouth. And can you blame me? He just bit into my neck and at the same time moved his hips in a way that I could feel his manhood rub against me. Both his hands were lowered to my hips and he used them to have me closer to him. All this while, he gave this utterly sexy guttural sound that almost sounded like a growl… He lets go, takes a step back and turns around, a moment later a ladder is lowered.

-You go. I will explore down here a moment.- He says in a firm voice not looking at me.

I go up the ladder still a little shaky and flushed. I tel Barst to let him explore to see what he can find, but to leave the ladder for him to get up. Darn I wanted to go “exploring” with him. Just imagining what he is doing down there is doing things to me. Good thing everyone thought I was scared of what had happened. I only had a scratch to show.

He came back much later.

…Well that was a lot of “exploring”.

He comes to the camp outside the castle and we are ready to leave just after lunch. At first he seems reluctant to be near me. I am freaking out because well, overthinking and anxiety mixed with insecurities is a bad mix. Finally after half a day of travel, we make camp and post the watch. He comes and sit by my side when I am eating. We don’t talk about it until we are left alone to go to rest.

-I…I apologize Alfonse. It wasn’t my intention. I…it just happened.- I tell him when he doesn’t speak.

- It wasn’t my intention either…you don’t have to apologize. I have been wanting to tell you. I…have feelings for you. I just did not want to say it in a situation like that and not at a time like this. I wanted it to be special. I am in love with you _____.

-I love you too Alfonse. I have for a long time… I’m sorry I ruined it…but I could not help but enjoy having you so near.- He is scarlet red, but smiling.- Which by the way, is your fault.- He looks puzzled.- Sir you are playing dirty.

-How so? - He asks.

-You are playing hard to get with my heart.

-Oh that game you started playing with mine?-He asks arching an eyebrow.

-What? Me? When? You don’t even let me see your hands for God’s sake. I never saw you flirting with me.

-I…hold your hands.- He says blushing. Well that was so Alfonse of him.-…erm…You used to never take off that coat or those pants. You were all mysterious and unreachable- Mysterious? Well, firs time someone said that about me.

-You wanted me to take off my pants?- He turns red again -I was…insecure. I mean look at those gorgeous women out there and I get all jealous and insecure. I felt safe with my coat on. What was your excuse?

-The same…I am jealous and insecure…Well, I was at first, but then I noticed something about you. - I give him a questioning look.- You could look at any hero in the nude and not get flustered by it. When I asked you why; you told me they where just natural human bodies to you. You sounded like they were nothing special; like you had analyzed bodies so much you did not find them beautiful or sacred any more. You said you studied them at school and everyone paraded half naked in musical shows and the like. Later you told me you did find them beautiful in an artistic or scientific kind of way but it did not make it better to me.

How to make someone like you fall in love….with me? I listened to you and how you praised my intellect and skills, and I knew you were attracted to those qualities, but there are other men with intellect and skills at home too. I needed to find a way to be special to you.

It was only when we met that other Alfonse dressed in a bunny costume that I understood. The way you looked at him made me so envious and jealous. What was so special about him? I saw you ogle his body like he was the most sinful of apparitions, and he looked just like me! I was frustrated. That same evening I saw you looking differently at me, and I could not help but feel elated about it.

I spied you looking intently at my naked hands and when I put on my globes, that look of disappointment did not escape my eyes. It occurred to me that you had never seen me in any state of undress and it must have been strange to you. I understood how you felt now. I have been watching heroes for years. Beautiful women I have been watching on a daily basis and none of them feel spacial, even if they have beautiful bodies,or incredible skills. Yet the day I saw you wearing regular clothes I …well I…- He blushed, lowered his face and left the sentence hanging.

I flirted with the idea of letting you see more of me, but then I would just become like any other hero, and I wanted more than that. I want so much more.- Now he looked at me, and there was so much love and affection in his eyes, I could have melted in the spot.

I have to confess I enjoyed seeing you flustered when you could see a little of me. That made me feel special, but I did not want to be just a mystery to you either. I wanted your heart and soul,your love not only your lust. I needed to to know you loved me.

I had a talk last night with Lif. He told me they were lovers …His summoner and him. He told me I was being a fool just wasting time. He said that if you were anything like his ______, then you loved me, jut like his summoner did him. _______, I want what they had…I want everything, but I am afraid. Between this situation and the war with Embla…You understand me, don’t you?

- I understand you. I suppose the time is not right. I don’t want to look back on the day we finally are together and remember all these tragedies. You know Alfonse. You were right about me and my take on “nakedness”. I guess we are on the same page now about desire too. To us, Desire comes from love. That is what makes you and your body especial to me. I fell in love with your sharp mind and your heart first, but also thanks to your “efforts” I can understand and appreciate how special a lover’s body is. You made me understand, that what I feel for you is true love, not just infatuation or lust. Thank you. We can wait if that is your wish…if not…I will not say ‘no’ to that to be honest. I leave it to your discretion…But Alfonse, next time you go “exploring” , I want you to know, I can always lend you a hand. ;)

~*~

I write this on the day of Devotion. Alfonse and I had another talk and at the end, we decided to wait. Alfonse’s position is a little difficult, and now even more so after his father’s death. His personality makes me forget he is royalty, but the weight of his crown is a lot. He has more responsibilities and images to uphold. I want to think we have time to enjoy each other’s company, hearts and mind before we rush things any way.

Well, I have to go, my family (Yes they are my family now) is waiting for me. Sharena informed me there is a huge surprise for me. Well, Anna did owed me some favors and she designed the costumes for the Royal family.I can’t wait see Alfonse! I hear he is wearing sandals XD Wink, wink!

PS: Wait! I just realized something! Lif was actually spying on us!?

#feh #feh alfonse #feh summoner #feh alfonse x summoner #fire emblem heroes #fire emblem fanfiction #kiralfonse #fire emblem #fire emblem x reader #alfonse x reader #alfonse x summoner #feh kiran #feh lif #feh lif x reader #feh lif x summoner #feh fan fiction

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lwt28brave · 3 years

Text

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

#LT2 #Louis Tomlinson #Faith in The future #369 #Louis #LT #new music #idk what this is #but it's long #pinned

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