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enbyenvy666 · 2 months

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May I request an a/b/o hitoshi shinso x cismale reader? They're all aged up, and a hero Shinso meets civilian reader. Just some fluffy interactions of shinso courting the reader, with a fluffy'n'smut ending? Thank you for your time!

wow this took so long to write lol

honestly i just took this idea and ran with it so i hope the wait was worth it ! also i haven't written for Shinso before so hopefully he isn't too ooc

(also he doesn't have a cannon hero name so i tried to get around that by the reader giving him a nickname instead)

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

CONTENT WARNINGS - 18+ MDNI, a/b/o, alpha!Shinso, omega!reader, slight scent and breeding kink, knotting, mating press, reader is a paramedic, reader treats shinso's minor wounds, fluff n smut, no beta we die like men w/c - 3.7k

Red and blue flashing lights made Shinso’s head hurt, straining his already tired eyes. Police cars and ambulances surrounded him and his fellow heroes, showing up after a particularly rough takedown. He had a couple of scrapes and bruises, but the paramedics wouldn’t let him leave before they assessed him. The only problem was, that there were others with more severe injuries than his own so it was taking a while.

As he sat on the curb, fiddling with his capture weapon, two work boot-clad feet entered his view. His purple eyes trailed up their legs, noticing the deep green uniform they wore with the paramedic shield embroidered over their chest pocket which held a couple of pens.

“Alright Mr. Hero, it’s your turn,” you grinned down at him, waving him towards one of the empty ambulances. He stood with a groan, feeling one of the cuts on his arm burn and sting. You climbed into the back of the ambulance, guiding Shinso to sit on the stretcher. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from you as you fluffed around his, slipping a sphygmomanometer around his arm and a pulse oximeter on his finger.

“Any pain anywhere?” You asked, and if he wasn’t looking at your lips he wouldn’t have noticed.

“No,” he muttered, watching how you gently inspected the cut on his arm. Even through the latex of the sanitised gloves, he could feel the warmth of your fingertips. Just when the band around his upper arm felt like it couldn’t get any tighter, it slowly deflated. You looked at the reading and smiled.

“Blood pressure is good.” But when you read the result of the oximeter, you frowned a little. Shinso didn’t like seeing you frown, and he wanted to do anything to see you smile again.

“Pulse is a little high,” you mumbled. If it was possible, he would’ve slowed his pulse at that moment, just to make this stranger happy. Readjusting the device on his finger, you also squeezed his hand in yours absentmindedly as you typed in his results onto your little laptop.

“I’ll keep this on a little longer, but otherwise you’re in good shape! I’ll just clean up your wounds a little and you should be good to go.” Finally, that smile was back on your face, showing off your pretty teeth while you changed your gloves.

The alcohol used to disinfect his cuts and scrapes stung, every time he would wince you would softly apologise. One by one, you tended to his wounds and with each bandage he felt himself growing more and more infatuated. As you softly dabbed an alcohol-soaked cotton pad over the smell scrapes near his hairline, he spotted something shiny under your uniform collar.

It was a scent-coating collar, torn and ragged around the edges, clearly old and worn out, but as he inhaled, he could smell the faint scent of you.

“You’re an omega,” he mumbled. You chuckled nervously, movements stuttering for a moment before you leaned away from him.

“Oh, yeah, guess I need a new one huh?” You joked, referring to the band that circled your neck. With a bandage in hand, you leaned back over Shinso and softly pressed it over the scrape, smoothing the edges down with your fingers.

“I’m just gonna check your eyes for any signs of a concussion,” you explained as you pulled out a pen from your pocket, clicking the small button on the side of it. The end lit up, and you pointed it towards his eyes.

“You should be fine… just making sure because you did hit your… head.” You trailed off, too concentrated on the way his pupils contracted and expanded. The way you bit your lip made his heart flutter, and he almost got worried the oximeter would read too high again. But that would mean he would get to stay with you longer so maybe it wasn’t a bad thing.

“Just keep staring at my nose.” Gladly. The light flickering in and out of his vision irritated his eyes even more, so he was thankful when you pocketed the pen and smiled.

“Alright, you’re good to go!” He almost wished there was something wrong just so you would stay with him, but alas, he left the ambulance. All of the other ambulances and police cars were gone, leaving just you, him and your partner.

“Thank you,” he said softly.

“No problem, Mr. Hero,” you grinned back.

“It’s-“ The walkie on your belt started barking out codes and addresses, to which you grimaced. Must not be good.

“Shit, gotta go,” you muttered, quickly turning and rushing back into the passenger seat of the ambulance. Your partner got in the driver's seat, and just before they turned on the lights and sirens, you leaned out the window and shouted goodbye to Shinso. He couldn’t stop his lazy grin as he waved back at you, watching you zoom away, off to save someone’s life, he presumed.

He didn’t realise how much of an impact you made on him until he had another rough take down and you weren’t one of the paramedics that showed up. He felt disappointed, and the way the paramedics tended to his injuries wasn’t as gentle as you were. He wasn’t sure why, but he missed you.

It took some searching, but eventually, he found you at an ambulance station during one of your few breaks from being on the road helping patients. As you were taking stock of the inventory in your ambulance, Shinso’s messy indigo hair.

“Hi Mr.Hero,” you greeted happily, climbing down from the back of the ambulance, clipboard in hand.

“What can I do for you? If you’re looking for medical assistance I’m required to tell you to go to the hospital, I can take you there if you need?”

“No, I’m okay,” Shinso denied. While your eyes flashed with confusion, the same gentle yet gleeful smile stayed on your lips.

“I just wanted to thank you.”

“Oh! There’s no need, I’m just doing my job,” you dismissed with a wave of your hand. It looked soft, and he wanted to hold it, brush his thumb over your knuckles, or maybe his lips. To stop him from grabbing your hand and doing just that, he fiddled with his capture weapon, just like he was doing when he first laid eyes on you.

While he didn’t like you denying your hard work as ‘just part of the job’, he understood where you were coming from. He often has the same mentality when it comes to being a hero, and that makes him feel closer to you.

“I also wanted to,” he hesitated, feeling an unusual anxiety bubbling up into his throat. Why did this feel so difficult?

“Ask you to dinner.”

Your smile dropped, and so did Shinso’s stomach. Your cheeks grew warm as you looked away from the hero, covering your mouth with your hand to hide your giddy grin. If you had a tail, it would’ve been wagging at the speed of sound. Composing yourself, you looked back at Shinso, but nervously couldn’t meet his hooded eyes.

“I’d love to.”

The weight on his shoulders lifted, and he quietly sighed in relief with the faintest smile. But as soon as you started to organise when to go out, you both realised that your schedules didn’t align very well. Shinso kept on his stoic appearance even as he felt his hopes crumble. Was this really how it ended, before it even started, all because of conflicting schedules?

But finally, there was a night when you and him were free. It was a month away, but at least it was something. That date is what carried him through work. On tough days, he would remind himself of his dinner with you, counting down the days until it finally arrived.

He couldn’t believe how nervous he felt, but at least his stoic demeanour didn’t betray that fact. The flame of the candle on the table flickered and swayed, Shinso’s purple eyes watching its every move. Time felt like it was moving too slowly. What felt like ten minutes of watching the flame dance was truly only a minute, but every second of it made him more and more anxious.

The longer he waited, the more he fretted that you weren’t going to show up. Perhaps the month's wait had given you enough time to change your mind. Tugging on his sleeves and collar didn’t help to cool him down, but it was the only sign that he was upset. Just as he was about to get up and leave, the chair across from him was pulled back.

“I’m so sorry I’m late!” How could he be mad at you? Your skin glowed in the candlelight, your lips parted in an apologetic smile that showed your beautiful teeth (even with any imperfections). You sat down before holding up a single rose in your hand and handing it to him.

“As an apology.”

“I wasn’t sure what kind you liked,” you explained sheepishly, hands nervously fiddling in your lap under the table.

“Don’t worry, it’s perfect,” he smiled softly. Thankfully dinner continued without a hitch, except for when a fan wanted a picture with Shinso. He was annoyed until he caught you stifling a giggle across the table. He loved to see you laugh.

When dinner was over, he didn’t want to say goodbye, even as you stood outside the restaurant, a cab waiting, he didn’t want to let go of your hand. It just fit so well in his. As you turned to him, looking up into his tired eyes, you smiled.

“I had a really good time,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. Lifting up onto your toes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. While it was only quick, to Shinso it felt like an eternity. Your soft lips on his skin, your scent clouding his senses, your palm on his chest to steady yourself. It took everything in him to not sweep you off your feet at that moment and claim you as his omega. But alas, you stepped away, with a final call for him to text you before you climbed into the taxi.

He was more infatuated than ever, finding more and more opportunities to visit you at the ambulance station. After learning your favourite snacks, he would drop them off for your lunch or dinner if you were working later. Sometimes he’d even leave flowers and on a Valentine’s Day when you were working, he left chocolates and a stuffed bear.

On nights when it was too late for a date but you were both free, you would talk on the phone for hours.

“And then she tried to hit me when I tried to check her blood pressure! I get that no one likes it, but come on! There’s no need to get violent,” you ranted.

“I know what you mean, I feel like old ladies just want to let their anger out at anyone who cares. One time I got a lady's purse back from a robber and she yelled at me for swinging her purse around too much,” Shinso replied with a soft chuckle. You bit your lip when you heard the sound. It was melodic.

“I mean, we’re just trying to help, aren’t we?” You agreed, rolling onto your stomach, legs idly swinging behind you.

“How did you go after the handoff today?” Shinso asked, running his fingers through his soft hair as he also lounged on his bed. Earlier that day, he caught a man in a hit-and-run who didn’t quite like being held accountable. He was claiming he had chest pains which meant an ambulance had to be called, and Shinso was super happy when he saw you climb out of the vehicle.

“He got worse once you and the cops were gone, the asshole even ripped off my collar,” you grumbled. Shinso felt possessiveness and anger at the thought of that guy putting his hands on you and harming you.

“You weren’t hurt, were you?” He asked.

“I’m fine, my partner managed to subdue him until we got him to the hospital.” It eased his worries to hear you were unharmed, but he was still worried about you.

“Are you doing anything tomorrow night?” He asked, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Your hum through the speaker sounded like a soothing drone, he could use it as white noise if he wanted to.

“Don’t think so, why?”

“Do you want to come over? Dinner and a movie at my place?” Your legs kicked behind you like an excited teen, butterflies swarming your stomach.

“I’d love to.”

Both you and Shinso slept with grins, excited for the next evening. Work felt like a breeze, nothing could get you down when you knew you would be seeing Shinso when your shift ended. He felt the same, if not more excited and anxious.

Before you knew it, you were standing on his doorstep, fist raised shakily to knock on the door. As soon as your knuckles hit the wood, it swung open, revealing Shinso. He must’ve been waiting on the other side of the door.

He invited you in, to which you graciously accepted. You didn’t miss how he held one arm behind his back, but you were too distracted by looking around his home to say anything. It was cute, and you noticed the cat toys strewn about. Shinso cleared his throat, your attention now trained on him.

“I got something for you,” he mumbled, revealing the box he was keeping hidden. He seemed nervous, which made you feel anxious in return. With ginger touches, you took the box and opened it enough to peek inside. It was a collar, amethyst in colour with shining silver metal on the buckle. A definite upgrade from your last one.

“Shinso!” You gasped, picking it up from the box. The inside of it was soft so it wouldn’t irritate your skin, and you could smell that slightly chemical scent that would cover yours.

“It’s beautiful!”

“Do you like it?” He still asked, wanting to quell his anxiety.

“I love it,” you grinned, wrapping your arms around his waist, and pulling him into a tight hug. He quickly reciprocated, head tucked into your shoulder. Without the old collar, he could smell your scent entirely. It was sweet, intoxicating. You pulled away and turned your back to him while holding up the collar.

While he wished you didn’t have to cover your scent, he still complied, clipping on the collar, wanting to do anything to make you happy. Using your phone as a mirror, you admired how the piece looked around your neck, unable to hold in your excited squeal.

Pulling the hero in for another hug, you muttered repeated thank yous. He held you in his arms as you pulled back to look up at him. Shinso’s smile was soft, but it was enough to make you feel jittery. With your gaze locked on his, the world around you fell silent.

Slowly, he leaned down, lips meeting yours in a kiss so passionate it made your knees weak. But you weren’t worried, you knew he would catch you. His hands groped and tugged on your body, palms rough from years of hero work. Your hands found his hair, threading through the soft strands. Everything grew heated, clothes striped and initial date plans pushed to the side until you were finished.

The rest of the night felt feather light, and like there was a warm glow around Shinso, the edges of your vision tinted in rose. Dinner tasted like magic because he cooked it. And the movie was perfect because he picked it. Everything about him was amazing. You were on cloud nine, even as you went to bed alone in your home.

But that all changed by the next morning. Your body felt hot, coated in a sheen of sweat, and struggling to breathe. Stumbling out of bed and making your way to the bathroom, you could feel the slick between your thighs and realise how hard you were. Your reflection showed your sweat-dotted face and messy hair. Your cheeks didn’t cool even after you splashed cold water on your face, so all you could do was slink back into bed.

Your encounter with Shinso last night must’ve had more of an effect on you than you thought, leaving you in heat and needing more. Even as your hands shook, you managed to dial the man in question.

“Hello?” He spoke into the phone. His voice made you whimper, which he heard.

“‘toshi,” you whimpered.

��Is everything okay, baby?” He asked.

“Need you. So bad,” you panted, unable to resist the temptation of palming yourself through your underwear.

“What’s wrong?” The concerned tone in his voice was noticeable.

“In, ah, heat.” You swore you could hear him fumble the phone.

“I’ll be right there okay? Just hold on for me.” He hung up, much to your chagrin as you wanted to keep listening to his voice. It felt like an eternity before he finally showed up. You met him at the door, almost tackling him the second the door opened. He managed to get you back inside, even as you tried to climb him like a tree.

With your arms and legs wrapped around him, he carried you back inside, trying to ignore the way your scent made his body react. He felt himself growing hard, and a hot flush washed over his body. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you right then and there, but he needed to wait a little while longer, then he could have you. Carrying you to your bedroom was the easy part, but getting you to let go of him was another level of difficulty.

You ended up just dragging him onto the bed with you, desperately clawing at his back to keep him close, to drown in him. His hands shook, his grip on you wavering as he fought his urges. As much as he wanted to breed you, he wanted to make his omega as comfortable as possible.

Finally unlatching you from his body, leaving you to whine and squirm on the bed. Hitoshi shrugged the duffle bag off his shoulder, one you hadn’t even noticed. Blanket after blanket, he pulled them from the bag and placed them around you on the bed, creating a nest for you.

“I wanted to bring pillows but I didn’t have enough room-” your lips collided with his, arms pulling him close till your body was flush against his.

“It’s perfect,” you whispered between kisses, slowly pulling him down to the bed. Desperately needing air, he parted from your kiss as your back hit the mattress. You looked like a god below him, the sweat dotting your skin made your body glow. Your hands cupped his face, warm palms on warmer cheeks.

“Please Hitoshi, make me your omega, be my alpha.” All self-control left him when he heard those words fall from your sweet lips. Capturing your lips once more, his needy hands started pulling on your clothes, desperately wanting to feel your bare skin against his. He couldn’t get them off fast enough, almost resorting to tearing them off when your lips trailed down his neck. Your scent had flooded his senses, his vision clouded fuchsia and all he could think about was you, you, you.

The moment your underwear was pushed down enough, your hand travelled down between your thighs, fingers collecting the slick around your hole before gently but eagerly pressing them inside. You couldn’t wait for Hitoshi to undress himself, and the sight of you preparing yourself for his cock was something he never wanted to forget. As soon as his clothes were off, his fingers prodded your entrance. Reluctantly you removed your fingers, but you were given little time to dwell before his thicker digits fingered you.

You occupied your hand by jerking your cock, the wetness on your fingers helping your hand glided smoothly. There were practically hearts in Hitoshi’s eyes as he watched your face contort with pleasure, your eyebrows knitting together when he added a third finger to your wet hole.

He couldn’t wait any longer, retracting his fingers and hooking your knees over his shoulders. Using your slick as lube on his cock, he pressed his tip to your tight ring of muscle, biting his lip to hold in a hiss of pleasure when he slowly thrusted himself inside you. You, however, moaned unabashedly as his cock carved itself inside you, making it fit perfectly like two puzzle pieces.

Hitoshi was quick to start an even pace, pressing your knees to your shoulders so his cock could thrust even deeper inside you. You couldn’t grab him in this position as much as you wished you could, instead twisting his blankets in a white-knuckled grip. Your eyes rolled back, swearing he was rearranging your guts at that very moment. Hitoshi couldn’t stop his groans as he felt your walls cling to his cock, pulling him back in every time his hips pulled away.

Precum dribbled from your tip, leaving glistening droplets on your stomach. The purple-haired man above you leaned down, pressing his forehead against yours to inhale your scent, angling his cock to hit your prostate in the process. Each thrust against the spot sent shockwave after shockwave of pleasure through your body, making your fingers and toes tingle.

Groans turned to growls as Hitoshi felt his peak building, his knot beginning to swell. He rut could only rut himself inside you, letting go of your knees to wrap his arms around your arched back instead, bodies pressed together. Your ankles quickly locked behind his back, preventing him from pulling out, as if he even wanted to, nails leaving red marks across his shoulder blades. Hitoshi tucked his head between your neck and shoulder, teeth brushing against your skin, but not yet biting down.

“Mine, mine, mine,” he growled over and over, his voice straining and growing in pitch until he reached his peak, ropes of cum coating your insides as his teeth finally sunk into flesh. The feeling of him filling you with his seed, his knot locking you together, and him officially making you his omega brought you to orgasm. Hitoshi’s hips finally stilled, panting against your neck as you both came down from your highs. Your fingers played with his soft hair, unable to stop a smile from gracing your lips.

Hitoshi pressed a soft kiss to the bite mark on your shoulder before lifting his head. He smiled softly, threading his fingers with yours as he kissed you deeply.

“My omega.”

-----

i hope you enjoyed :) also writing the next chapter of personal pornstar so stay tuned ;)

#bnha x male reader #bnha x reader #shinso hitoshi x reader #shinso hitoshi x male reader #shinso x reader #shinso x male reader #hitoshi x reader #hitoshi x male reader #a/b/o au #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

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skiyoosmi · 7 months

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it kills me a little, that's okay 'cause i'd die for you—

⤷ contents. gender neutral reader, petnames (he calls you baby and dude), angst (and a sprinkle of fluff i think)

there's stillness in the night as gojo lays idly on his bed, relishing the very short break he has before the strenuous work at jujutsu tech begins once again. his room is engulfed with darkness, barely lit by the dim brightness that comes from the screen of his phone.

"hello, satoru's phone! yn here, hehe."

a minimal smile appears on his face as he plays a familiar video, greeted by your bright expression as you try to position the phone in a better angle. his thumb hovers over the screen as he pauses when your face comes near, mimicking gesture as if he's stroking the apples of your cheeks. there are veins of melancholy that burrows its way deep into the crevices of his core before he resumes the recording.

as soon as you've achieved your goal of stabilizing the device, you start speaking again.

"so, you might be wondering what in the world am i doing right now. well, this is a surprise video mess—"

"baby, have you seen my shaving cream?" he hears his voice ask in the background, albeit muffled. he remembers how he was poking around the bathroom cabinet, preparing for a flight he will have to catch in the evening, he remembers how you scoffed beforehand when he told you suguru or shoko could do it for him, he remembers how long you nagged him about being a responsible adult and that he should learn to do it on his own. he remembers it all too well.

he chuckles lightly upon watching you roll your eyes.

"top left in the drawer! silly 'toru, what would you do without me?" you whisper to yourself as you shake your head and turn to face the phone again, "anyway, as what i was saying, this is a surprise message! you might see this once you're in the airplane, or in the hotel room… heck, you might even see this as soon as you hold your phone, which would be a bummer but…"

"... what are you doing?" his face appears in the video and although he has seen this video for so many times already, he reels back in surprise at how different he looks– a bit younger yet so much happier. he watches the youthful him naturally place his chin just above your shoulder blades, eyes scanning the lens before leaning in to peck your cheeks multiple times. you giggle and try to move away, but he follows you.

and if he had the chance again, he'll willingly follow you anywhere.

"ahh, satoru, you big bummer. this was supposed to be a surprise! i was recording a video for you…" you whine out and he remembers raising his brow in interest, intrigued by the reason why you thought of such idea. he assumes you recognized his facial expression as one of curiousity so you continue to talk, "you know, so that if we break up, you'll never be able to move on and you'll be too busy missing me."

there's a pause of silence in the video and once again, he recalls the two of you staring at each other after you say that. you purse your lips when he suddenly lets out a boisterous cackle, "pfft— baby, what the heck? that won't happen. you're never gonna get away from me. it's you and me forever now. it'll always be you for me, dude."

the video shakes and satoru only sees blurry frames but his mind and soul vividly pictures the memory of attacking your face with more kisses as he wraps his arms around you while you squeal and giggle, "satoru… *kiss*… stop! let …*kiss*... me finish… *kiss*... the video… *kiss*"

a few seconds later, you reappear and satoru wonders how is it possible for you get even brighter and more beautiful. you pout and look at the boy beside you, who only grins smugly, "you ruined it. plus, that was supposed to be romantic and shit but you just had to call me dude, huh?"

"nyenye, finish that already so we can kiss," he says exasperatedly and slumps his body on yours. you roll your eyes once again, "you're such a boy, 'toru. are you even done packing yet?"

he freezes and slowly lets you go, sheepishly smiling before going back to the bathroom. you laugh, "so irresponsible, you dummy!"

you turn your eyes back on the camera and he sees pure adoration and fondness swimming in them, "you know i could never say all these to you directly, 'cause your head might get big. but it'll always be you for me too, satoru."

a sharp claw of agony grips his heart tightly and it refuses to let go. he refuses to let go. and suddenly, he's opening up his contacts, scrolling through the list before he stops right when he reaches yours– he never changed the nickname, never even thought of blocking you after you broke up with him through the same, exact phone he was holding, telling him how you couldn't do it anymore; being a jujutsu sorcerer, losing friends, being with him, and all that there is to it. so, you reopen the same wounds suguru left him and bid your own farewell. and yet, he could never do all those, couldn't change nor remove anything that has something to do with you, because that would mean giving up on you. it would mean he was letting you go.

and just like how he can never delete your number, he can never delete you from his life.

thus, he clicks. and he feels so anxious, so impulsive and so sad. the ringing goes on for what felt like forever. then it stops.

"satoru?" he hears your voice, his name rolling off your tongue, so sweet and silky. and suddenly, he's back in the years of his youth, as if he was eighteen all over again.

"i…" he feels a sickening lump in his throat when he starts to speak, desperate to get out and cry to you, "sorry. i'm stupid, i didn't mean to disturb you."

he hears a soft rustle from the other side of the phone before he hears you once more, "hmm, it's fine."

there was a hint of sleepiness in your voice and he figures the call woke you up, "were you sleeping?"

you only hum in agreement and satoru feels awfully jealous at how you can sleep in peace at this hour while he spends most of his nights trying to fight the insomniac thoughts that threaten consume his mind whole. but he feels relieved in a way, because he wouldn't want you to spend these lonely evenings and midnights the same way as he does. he's only wanted to keep the smile on your face, after all. that's enough for him.

"i was watching the video," he gulps the pain away, "and you were right, i don't think i'll ever be able to move on."

you don't reply but he thinks… no, he knows you're listening.

"i'm too busy missing you, you know," he manages to chuckle despite the claw that rips his heart out of his chest bit by bit the more silent seconds that pass by.

"but i know. we've had our time," he adds when he hears you trail off while speaking his name once again.

"you… you're happy, right?" he chokes out a cough to cover the wavering of his voice when he feels that the end of the phone call is nearing. from the other side of the phone, you sit up and hold the phone by your ear tightly, "mhm, i believe so."

the claw has finally made a hole on his chest, "o-okay… that's good. that's good."

it's fine, he tries to convince himself. you're happy and that's all that matters to him anyway.

"you should go back to sleep," he whispers when a tear finally escape from the windows of his eyes. you hum quietly, "i really should."

"okay."

and as if it was all a mere dream of his, the call drops along with his heart. he opens up his gallery, welcomed by the paused video he was watching a while ago. it stopped with your face in view again and his fingers hover the screen once more. you gotta stop, you gotta let go now, a voice screams at the back of his mind. and he clicks,

this video will be deleted from the icloud photos on all your devices

delete video

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the layers of gloom return in his chest, marking your image within him, carving each and every of your features, and he feels like he's at the beginning of the end once more. his thumb presses on the screen and the loop of his remorse repeats, over and over again as he whispers, "it'll always be you for me."

cancel

—you know i'd still die for you

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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moony-2001 · 7 months

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How I would’ve constructed the 10 year time skip

✨Brought to you by my deep loathing for Lore Olympus✨

•warnings: super long post (I’m not joking), death, kidnapping, violence•

What The Fuck Happened

There was so much potential for the punishment arc. We could’ve seen a lot of character development, fleshed out storylines, reconciliation between certain people. We could’ve seen both Hades and Persephone going to therapy instead of claiming that one therapy session has fixed all their problems and then never going again.

Instead we got horny Persephone, pretty much no clue about what happened to Demeter OR Persephone during that time, and an easy plot device (sorry Cerberus) for Persephone to be like “I’m a big girl now harrumph harrumph, time for me to go reunite with my crusty ass bf who I’ve only know for a month”.

I hate the way she reunited with Ares. Ares is just a bonafide creep throughout the whole comic (although I liked when he attacked Zeus lol). I guess what I mostly hate about Ares and Persephone’s interaction is, yet again, it’s another example of every guy in the comic going AWOOGA over Persephone. Also Athena’s design is so fugly. I guess Rachel is completely incapable of drawing masculine presenting women as actual women.

The whole Kronos plot line is stupid. I hate it so much. Imo the whole “the titans are trying to escape so they can rule Olympus again” is overdone and not particularly done well. The fight between Kronos and Persephone is lame as shit. Like what, she gets big for all of 20 minutes, burps out a bunch of bees (which aren’t even aggressive creatures), and then does her version of the Wuxi Finger Hold from Kung Fu Panda and has Tartarus spirit Kronos away, magically fixing all of their problems (except it doesn’t and nothing is actually fixed).

Also I might get a lot of flack for this, but I don’t think the addition of Morpheus’ character was necessary. I like Morpheus. I think she’s cute. But she’s a) slowly turning into another version of Hecate and b) not really vital to the narrative imo. We already have so many other characters and plot lines that take away from the central “romance” the story is SUPPOSED to be focused on. I just don’t think we need ANOTHER character whose arc is probably not going to go anywhere.

So yeah, overall very L writing, L plot, and L characters.

What I would do differently

The first thing I would change is that the whole punishment arc would be an entire season unto itself. You’ll see why it has to be a separate season.

The second thing is (and this literally pains me to say) in order for me to rewrite this portion of LO without rewriting the entire comic, I kinda sorta have to throw the entire timeline of Greece out the window. If I try to follow a timeline based on the history of Greece, the entire timeline of LO has to shift massively. I’m already getting a migraine trying to think about how I could possibly make it work.

I do know this: Instead of 10 years I’d do somewhere between 1,000-3,000 years. 10 years is a joke. When you’re a god, 10 years is a trip to the time out corner

For now, let’s just say (assuming LO takes place in the Ancient Greece era) and Ancient Greece spanned ~1500 years, Persephone’s punishment would’ve needed to have been established near the very end of the collapse of the Late Bronze Age, spanned the entirety of Ancient Greece as we know it today, and ended some time in the very early Byzantine era. So like what, 1500-2000 years? Fine. I can work with this.

The Famine

You know how the first 400 years of Ancient Greece was deemed the “Dark Ages” and it was a time of war, famine, and loss? I want to start the punishment there. It would make sense for what we know about the characters thus far:

Demeter has had complete control over the growth of the flora and fauna on earth. She’s the goddess of the harvest after all. But we also find out that while Persephone has been in Olympus, Demeter has also been carrying out her duties as the goddess of spring. Plus Demeter has been around for forever and a day. She knows what she’s doing

Persephone doesn’t (at this point in the comic) really have control over her powers. Even in her fits of rage, she ends up doing more harm than good (i.e. her act of wrath, turning Minthe into a plant, etc.). In comparison with everyone around her, she is a literal infant. I mean shit, she’s only been alive for 20 years compared to the fact that everyone else has most likely been around for a minimum of 500 years.

If Demeter is stripped of her status as a goddess (and thus her powers) it would make sense that there would be a lot of death and famine and war over territory/food. Persephone would be left with nothing: no guidebook, no how-to. Of course a lot of people would die while she’s trying to figure her shit out. It could also be a very interesting tactic for psychological warfare on Zeus’ part. Zeus KNOWS Persephone doesn’t know what she’s doing. He knows people will die. And he knows that since life is precious to Persephone (or at least that’s what she claims), it would punish her further.

We can see episodes of Persephone struggling to provide for humanity. We could have real world examples of the affect of famine and depopulation. We would see her struggling with her powers, her mental health. We could get an episode that explains how her hands got destroyed from trying to mimic her mother’s powers. We can see what the fuck happened to Demeter in Attica.

Now obviously things will eventually go on the up and up for Persephone and her compatriots. The whole 1500-2000 years isn’t just going to be one big clusterfuck. As time progresses and chapters pass, we could see real character growth for Persephone not just mentally, but in almost every aspect. Since she will have been alive at that point for over 1000 years, the readers would be able to see her newfound maturity. We could also see her build strong female support systems and strengthen her friendships, something we NEVER saw in the OG comic (or at least they never happened without Hades somehow being involved). You get the point.

What’s Old Man Hades up to?

I have big plans for Hades and none of them involve him going into a 1000+ year coma or getting possessed by his creepy-ass dad. He is an asshole though. I kinda wanted to portray him in this the way he is in the original myths (which for those who don’t know or haven’t read it, it’s not good).

So in Greek mythology, Hades actually had a wife before he even met Persephone or Minthe. Can you take a wild guess as to who?

Bingo! It’s Leuce. Contrary to popular belief, Leuce is actually NOT a home-wrecking POC version of Persephone (don’t @ me we all know the nymphs represent the lower class and POC). In mythology, Leuce was Hades’ first wife/lover and she died sometime long ago and I believe was turned into a white poplar tree. No she is not a cousin of Thetis and Amphitrite. She is not even remotely related to them. And Thetis and Amphitrite are sisters, not cousins. Do your fucking research Rachel.

Unfortunately, Greek Mythology doesn’t really mention all that much about Leuce outside of the fact that she was a daughter of Oceanus, she was kidnapped by Hades, and when she died (for unspecified reasons) she turned into a tree. Which means I’m going to be taking a lot of creative liberties for this portion of the post. Sorry to all you diehard fans of Greek myths out there. I shall try to do her justice.

In my head-cannon Hades and Leuce had been in an arranged marriage for thousands of years. Leuce was offered by Oceanus as a peace offering after the War and Hades, not really having any other viable options for a wife, agreed to take her to the underworld (much to her dismay). Over time, they grew to have a mutually loving/caring relationship. Unlike LO Persephone, Leuce was a good queen and she worked hard to make sure the denizens of the underworld respected her and that they were well cared for. Unfortunately, they got divorced because Hades starting having an affair with Minthe. Even though she loved her kingdom and the people of the underworld, she divorced Hades because she couldn’t stand to be around him, which, y’know. Fair.

A few notes: in my head-cannon, Leuce is still around leading up the the trial and punishment. Her portrait would still be up, we would see signs that Hades and Leuce still interact (more in terms of business, not romance), etc.

Also, unlike Persephone, Leuce would not take her anger out on Minthe or turn her into a plant or destroy her apartment. She would simply wish her good luck. She would be mad at Hades for cheating and for taking advantage of Minthe while she’s at her lowest. But I’m going to be straight up: even though Leuce is meant to be the better Persephone, she still has her flaws. She’s not going to feel inclined to help Minthe in any way. Would you want to help out the person who your partner is cheating on you with? The answer is no and if you say yes, you’re lying.

Anyways, during the Punishment, Hades and Leuce reconnect and Hades finds out Leuce is dying. He tries to convince her to leave the underworld and return to her father, but she insists that she is going to stay, even if it means she dies away from everyone she loved. She won’t abandon her kingdom, her people, or her ex-husband (although that’s much better than he deserves). They move in together and Hades begins to take care of her, even as she begins to deteriorate. They also begin to rekindle their past relationship and (with the help of a therapist) work through some of their past problems together.

Note: their relationship rekindles a couple hundred years into the punishment so by the time the punishment ends, they’ve been back together for a minimum of 1200 years

The aftermath and the Rape of Persephone

Before any of you go gaga over me for the title used above, the original title used for the myth is The Rape of Persephone (or if you want to be really original, The Rape of Proserpina). In the context of the title, the term “rape” means to be taken/kidnapped rather than having sexual violence inflicted upon you. Rape stemmed from the traditional Latin word “raptus” which means “to be seized” or “carried off”. Okay? Okay.

So after the Punishment ends and Persephone feels like she has thoroughly improved herself, she goes to find Hades and talk with him about their relationship. Mainly that she feels they rushed into it, and even though she does like him she wants to take things really slow (kind of like how she wanted before getting married 3 episodes later).

Upon arriving to the underworld/Hades house, her worst fears are realized: not only has Hades (seemingly) moved on, he has found someone else. Or rather, he got back together with his ex-wife.

Persephone freaks out (“who is she?”/“I’m his wife!”)

Persephone, throughly upset for getting her hopes up, flees back to mortal realm. Hades goes to leave Leuce, but not before she tells him that if he leaves her for Persephone, she will never forgive him. Hades leaves anyways, much to the absolute despair of Leuce, who is left wailing as he runs off.

Persephone returns home and finds Demeter and they hug. Demeter is initially horrified to see what happened to her hands, but is proud of the work she did during the punishment. Persephone cries to her mother about Hades, and Demeter tries to comfort her but it inadvertently comes off more as “I told you so” rather than “I’m sorry you had to experience that” (although Demeter is sorry that Persephone’s heart is broken). Persephone, already feeling incredibly emotionally distressed, lashes out at Demeter and they start to argue. This is when Hades arrives.

Hades sees Demeter and Persephone arguing and inserts himself into the situation. Persephone becomes more upset after seeing him and Hades (assuming that Persephone is upset about the fact that Demeter is getting in the way of their “relationship” and not the fact that Persephone discovered Hades went back to his ex-wife after saying he loved her) whips out the the “one personal question, no exceptions” card and proposes to Persephone. He insists that he loves her and only her and that they should spend the rest of their immortal lives together.

Persephone says no.

Hades, not taking no for an answer and not wanting to leave the mortal realm empty handed, kidnaps Persephone, much to the dismay of Demeter, Artemis, and the nymphs. Hades returns with a traumatized Persephone to the underworld to find that Leuce has died and turned into a white poplar tree. While Persephone is sobbing on the floor, Hades weaves a mock crown from the branches and leaves of the tree, places it upon Persephone’s head, and tells her she better get used to their life together.

Thus ends the season and the punishment arc.

Afterthoughts

Thank you for sitting through my ramblings. I officially joined the anti-LO community about the time the trial happened and had been wanting to make a post like this for a reaaaaally long time. Besides the fact that the trial in of itself was completely unethical (@genericpuff made a whole post about that) the punishment arc just really pissed me off. Like go girl, give us nothing!

Anyways, I may or may not do a whole timeline reconstruction of LO depending on how much I feel like offing my sanity with the amount of research that would have to go into that. Until then, I hope you like this post and look out for other anti LO posts coming your way :)

#lore olympus #anti lo persephone #anti lore olympus #unpopular lo #unpopular lore olympus #kung fu panda #anti lo #lo criticism #lo critical #long read #lore olympus criticism #lo critic

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wreckingtickles · 28 days

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Stirrups 2 - The Revenge (NSFW)

A short, filthy sequel to Stirrups.

Tagging @wigglywormy and @unnacessary because yes, a sequel was indeed in the works (technically finished before the first story was out).

Too short. Why can't I properly wreck Kiri when it seems like it's the one thing I really want to do?!?! I don't know if I'll ever expand on this, but anyone is welcome to chime in. Give Bakugo ideas. He's probably reading the comments.

Words: 732

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHAKUHUHUGOHOHOHO STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!! IHIM SOHOHOHOHORRRYHIHHAHHAAHHAAHAHAH!!!

"Yeah, now you are. 37 left."

Kirishima's morning had started out great, pulsating hangover headache aside. He'd awakened to a pleasant tingle in his nether regions, the disheveled mess he'd made of Bakugo the night before playing over and over, distorted and enhanced, in his dreams.

Unfortunately, when the urge to palm himself at the threshold of consciousness caught him, he realized that he couldn't move. Bakugo had woken up early and gotten into his hero paraphernalia, tying him spread-eagle to his bed. That pleasant pressure he'd felt? Bakugo pulling down his underwear and securing his fleshlight in place. And he coudldn't even see squat because a blindfold had been placed over his eyes.

Kirishima wasn't even given the chance to say anything before Bakugo began his prolonged siege of his underarms.

Very Bakugo-like. Go for the worst spot right away. No build-up, no quarter. Just make sure he breaks as fast and as hard as possible.

Kirishima was too groggy to put up a fight, too groggy to use hsi Quirk, too groggy to resist. He dissolved into laughter right away, melting under the fingertips that clawed at his armpits with frenzied vigor.

"NOOOOOOHOHHOHO!!!! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHHEHEREEEE!!!"

"Yes, fucking there."

"BAHAHAHAHAKUGOHOHOHO THEHEHEHE NEHEHEHEHEIGHBOHOHOHHAHAHAHAH!!! STAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAP!!"

"Not my fucking problem. You're laughing, Shitty Hair. You're laughing for a long fucking time."

He was ruthless. It didn't take much effort to have Kirishima burst into incontrollable ticklish laughter, much less when his hollows were under attack, but Bakugo was positively relentless. The closest things Kiri got to a break were Bakugo briefly moving to his feet - in a transparent attempt to have Kirishima's desperate squirming exceed his own from the night before, though this Hammurabi-like retribution wasn't anywhere near as satisfying as he'd hoped - and his ribs, which were only slightly less ticklish than his pits, meaning that the redhead's situation didn't really improve much, though whenever Bakugo would leave his ribcage (why did he have to sleep in his underwear only?!) to plunge into his underarms again, Kirishima felt like he was thrown into a brand new circle of hell.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAH!!!! IHIHI CAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAHN'T!!! PLEHEHEHEHASE!!! IHIHIM SOHOHOHOHORRY!!!!"

"Not yet you aren't," retorted Bakugo as he switched on the fleshlight.

"BWAAAHAHAH!!! NOHOHOHO!!! PLEAHAHAHAHAHAASEEE!!! DOHOHOHOHONT!!!"

But Bakugo robbed him of the ability to form coherent sentences when he began raking at his ribs with a back massager while scribbling his fingers into his left armpit.

Between yesterday's unsettled horniness and Bakugo going scorched earth on his defenses, Kirishima grunted through his laughter and let out a bassy moan mere minutes later, spilling his pleasure into the unfeeling device.

But Bakugo didn't stop. Not at all. "Who said you could enjoy this, Shitty Hair?" he teased as both of his hands were plunged into the sweaty hollows once more, gliding even more effortlessly than before, whcih did NOT mix well with the post-climax sensitivity boost.

"IHIHIHIHI'M SOHOHOHOHORRRY!!! IHIHI SORRYYYYYYYYHIHHIHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!!!"

"Say that a hundred times, maybe I'll believe you."

And thus Kirishima was forced to apologize through the hysteria, with Bakugo doing everything in his power to make it impossible.

"SOHOHOHORRHEHEHEHEHEHE!!! SOHOHOHOHHHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!"

"You have to finish the word, Shitty Hair. Still at 32."

"AHAHAHAAHAT LEEHEHEHEHHAST TUHUHUHURN THE THING OHOHOHOFFFF!!!!"

"Why, does it feel like electricity when you're oversensitized and it keeps going? Sucks to be you, uh. And you're hard again?"

Not being able to see made it all even worse, although at least he couldn't see himself drooling, crying, and disheveled. But he would have loved to see Bakugo's expression cycle between single-minded revenge and grinning enjoyment.

"HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! SOHOHOHAHHAHAHARRRY!!!"

"58... 59... 50... 51..."

"NOOOOOHOHOOH!!!! HAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHHAA HAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAAH!!!!"

"Keep going, Shitty Hair. And don't you dare cum before you're done."

He cut it close. He cut it really close. The last notes of mounting arousal had made his last apologies, words disconnected from meaning, deeper, breathier. But he'd done it. 100. And the climax that he couldn't avoid was his reward.

Bakugo kept going through the pleasure – see if he liked it (and he probably did). Then, he stopped. He glared down at Kirishima, eyes fluttering in the afterglow, waiting for the oxygen to reach his brain so he’d be able to hear Bakugo’s next words.

"I said 'maybe', Shitty Hair,” whispered the vengeful blond that knew no moderation, his fingers wiggling less than an inch away from Kirishima’s terribly sensitive hollows. “Die."

#mha tickle #bnha tickle #tickle content #tickletorture #spicy content #tickle fic #ticklish!kirishima #lee!kirishima

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contentment-of-cats · 9 months

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I'll say it again. Andor is the best Star Wars show.

And that's because they didn't let Dave Filoni anywhere near it.

The show is called 'Ahsoka' but is actually an unaired season of Rebels. It ought to have been called 'attempted massive retcon at unwise forward speed' or 'Sabine has abandonment issues and makes poor decisions.' There are good scenes (possibly from another show, which one is anyone's guess) strung together with tired plot devices. Thrawn was chucked into this mess because there was no other way to move the plot. I did dig on some of the details like the signs of age and hard living and the obvious condition of the Chimaera. Other than that - pfft.

Turning to Thrawn - I am an unabashed fan of the Zahn-authored 2017 Trilogy and the HTTE trilogy (except the ending). He is complex neither all good or all evil. He is an antagonist and protagonist at once. Someone to root for and also against. Did he contrive his exile to join the Empire and possibly take it over in order to protect his people? It's possible. I don't think we'll ever find out, though. That being said, I don't think we're going to get much more from two more episodes.

One of my friends said that Filoni writes for children's shows, and it's true. The characters are almost cartoonish, not understandable as adults, but as kids understand adults to be. Perhaps I am expecting too much from an eight-episode MCU-kin show, but there was time to develop Sabine, or FFS Ahsoka (you know, the protagonist?), to fill in whatever has gone on in the past nine years since the Battle of Yavin, five years after Endor. For Sabine and Ezra, there should have been more feeling in that scene than the swell of the music.

A lot of the blame rests with Disney, and the paranoia-controlled process to stamp out leaks at all costs. There is a continuity to writing a script, working out the story boards, reading the script, and then shooting that is entirely lacking in franchise-oriented product. Franchise oriented product is formulated to sell merch and streaming subscriptions, and to drive bodies into theme parks. It's marketable.

The writers' and actors' guild strikes are ongoing. I'm content to wait - writers and actors have been getting screwed, fucked, and buttered without mercy for years. There is a new intensity to the talks as the studios start to sweat.

Final note: I love Thrawn, but the ageism of a vocal part of the fandom makes me want to still be around when these people hit 50. Age and illness and injury HAPPEN. Our bodies do not work as well when joints break down, we get hurt, or sick. Even when he regain functionality, it doesn't all come back. Even when our lives are saved, there are still sequelae. It's made me think less of some folks.

#thrawn #ahsoka

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thefreakydeaky · 1 month

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After the Thrill is Gone

Part thirteen Fourteen

Negan Smith x Reader

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Modern AU

Summary: From the first moment you laid eyes on Negan you were inexplicabley drawn to him. The passion between you is hot and only grows more intense the longer you see each other. There is only one problem, you're both married to other people.

Warnings: Dark Fic , Rape/Noncon, Violence, Stalking, Stalker behavior, Smuttyness, Adult Language...

"Yeah, every Wednesday he gets so drunk he can't get home and every Wednesday we find ourselves driving him there." Rick told you all of a local congressman.

You laughed then took another sip of your beer.

"Good to know we're not the most boring town you've ever worked in." Daryl commented

"Not by far." Rick assured him. "The first town I ever worked in, my hometown was a one stop light town. Now that was boring."

After you had helped Lori clean up, as mich as she would allow you to anyway, you got ready to leave. You gatheres your kids and reminded them to retrieve anything they had brought with them. As Hunter went to retrieve his handheld video game, you looked ahead and saw Daryl and Rick talking still near the back door that led to the backyard. Your husband's stoney expression worried you. Rick had a hand on Daryl's shoulder and from the look on his face the conversation was definitely serious.

Not wanting Wyatt to notice, you turned your face back to your kids. It turned out you hadn't had a reason to do so as you noticed he was busy talking to Carl. Both the boys' eyes were on the screen of Carl's phone.

Oh Great. You thought. He's gonna ask us to get him a phone again.

It was an argument that kept coming up as he got older. He insisted that he needed a smart phone and you and your husband insisted that if a situation arose where he needed to call someone there was always a phone he could borrow from the person he was with. It wasn't as if you allowed your child to go off anywhere on his own yet. He was too young to be responsible enough yet. Wyatt of course did not understand and continued with increasing frequency to ask you for his own device.

Daryl came in from the back yard then. You smiled a little. He looked at you and there was something dark in his eyes some emotion you couldn't quite name. You took a breath and looked away. You turned your attention to saying good bye to Lori and her family and picking up Millie. You took hold of Hunter's free hand and followed Lori to the door which she held open for you.

"Thank you again." You said as you went passed her.

The drive back to your house was quiet. Daryl was usually quiet, but his mind seemed preoccupied with some worry or another.

That night as you were getting ready for bed you could feel Daryl watching you undress. You felt a bit self conscious, but tried not to show it.

"I thought we were gettin' better." Daryl said suddenly. "I thought we were makin' progress, but we aren't are we?"

You turned, surprised by his remark.

"We are. I think we are. You don't?"

His green eyes were on your chest until you pulled your night dress over you covering up.

He sighed.

"Doesn't feel like it...lately."

You frowned.

"How do you mean?"

"I mean, we did...our homework once and that was a month ago maybe more." He watched you get into bed beside him. "You've been actin' weird. real weird for a while now and I'm not sure what to make of it."

You tried to keep your expression neutral.

"The only thing new I've had on my mind is Wyatt playing baseball. It worries me. I don't want him learning from that-that man." You finished lamely.

Daryl nodded.

"And that's all it is. Stress?"

"Yeah, Just stress." You assured him.

He rolled onto his side, closer to you.

You did the same, facing him.

"I know we still have a long way to go toward workin' this out, but I hope we're learnin' that we can talk to each other about anythin' that's botherin' us, anythin' that's goin' on. That we can trust each other." Hesitantly, he reached for your hand.

You took it into yours and held on gently.

"We're tough enough to face whatever comes at us, together." He told you.

You looked into his serious forest green eyes and then down at your hands, entwined. You weren't entirely sure you believed his words to be true.

•••••••••••••••••••••

The sun shone brightly above you as you pushed Millie's stroller down the sidewalk. You could see the tall figure of Negan standing by a bench near the empty playground in a black wind breaker and matching black pants.

He said your name as you neared.

"I'm sorry. My clock must be behind I thought I was on time-"

He reached for you. You flinched as he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. You felt your hair move slightly as he inhaled your scent.

"Now, now, calm down, Doll. You're on time. I got here a little early. That's all."

You were somewhat relieved by the revelation, but remained wary.

He let go of you and bent over to release Millie from her seat.

Together the three of you walked over to the little covered playground. Negan set your daughter down onto the first stair so she could climb up to the slide and you waited near the bottom where the slide wound down like the bottom of a twister.

You watched as Millie climbed the steps and used the metal posts to steady herself. She took a big step up and sat down at the mouth of the slide. She giggled as she slid down. You caught her at the bottom then walked her back to where Negan was so he could set her on the stairs again. Then you went back to the slide.

"So, does he suspect anything?" He asked casually.

You thought back on the conversation you had with Daryl.

"I don't know." You kept your eyes on Millie as you brought her to Negan again.

"Well is he acting different, talking to you different, asking questions?"

You sighed.

"He said that I've been weird. So, I told him it's because I'm stressing about Wyatt being in baseball."

"Hmm." Negan helped Millie back up the stairs.

"I can't help, but be stressed having this part of my life collide with my family life, my home life. I constantly feel like Daryl will notice some random thing and somehow that'll make him put it all together. To be honest, living like this, it's exhausting."

"Is that why you tried to end it with me? Stress?"

You nodded.

"Although, it's definitely more stressful now than it was then."

"Your life would have become complicated even if you hadn't tried to break up with me. I would have ended up being Wyatt's teacher anyway. I'm the only Gym teacher at that school."

You frowned.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

You caught Millie and placed her on your hip.

Negan came over to your side. He ran a hand over your baby's head then did the same to you.

"My beautiful girls." He said the words with something like ownership in his tone. It made you shiver unpleasantly. "Why don't we go for a walk?" He took your free hand in his and led the way off the playground.

You set Millie onto her feet and held her hand in one of yours, Negan's hand in the other. You walked along the trail together quietly for a time. Not thinking about what he had done to you was nearly impossible, but you had to try otherwise you would follow your instincts and flinch away from his touch. He wouldn't like that.

"Have you thought about putting Millie into pre-k?" He asked.

You gasped.

"Pre-k? She's only three."

"She'll be four soon enough and there's a pre-kinder class at that religious school, Sacred Heart. You can start looking into it now. See what you'll need to get her acepted and registered, that way she'll be set next fall."

You frowned.

"That's a private school. We don't have the money to-"

"Don't worry about money. I know someone in the front office who can get her a scholarship. I'll take care of that part of it. You just tell Daryl you found a scholarship program. He's not gonna say no if it's free."

She nodded. It felt gross to be discussing parenting decisions with Negan when Daryl had been the one by your side raising Millie with you. You swallowed your distaste to get through the visit.

#negan x reader #negan smith x reader #jeffrey dean morgan #daryl dixon x reader #daryl x reader #twd reader insert #tw: noncon

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lightning-and-dragons · 15 days

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Strength and Survival Chapter 3

Previous Chapter (Chapter 2)//Next Chapter (Chapter 4)

Here's chapter 3, a bit late, but I'm super proud of how it turned out! Enjoy!

Read on Tumblr below!

Jay sat still, his legs crisscrossing beneath him, studying what was left of his old outfit. Rontu had come back into the cave in the morning and gave Jay some new clothes, apparently left over from a time long ago when humans did come here. Wherever here was.

But Jay was grateful. His suit from the Administration was always uncomfortable, too tight around the shoulders and neck, and too loose near his waist. And that’s not even to mention the tie, which always felt like it was strangling him. The suit was even more unbearable now that it was covered in his dried blood, tarnished with gaping holes surrounded by frayed fabric. The outfit Rontu gave him wasn’t as tight, leaving him enough room to move, yet the sleeves could be tightened with the strips of fabric attached, wrapping around his arms like bandages. Similar strips tightened around his waist, much like a ninja outfit, and Jay was more comfortable than ever. Not only was it clean, but it was well balanced enough between comfort and agility, even coming with a hood that covered his face, and a bandana for his mouth, meaning that he could avoid and fight the Administration easily. Well, if not for his broken arm, which sat in a sling, immobile for the time being.

And, the outfit he wore was black with dark blue accents. He didn’t know if Rontu knew that he liked the color blue, but he was happy for it all the same. Distantly a question was asked in the back of his mind, something about the color blue, full of hope and longing, yet he couldn’t point out the exact words. He hoped that one day he could. The question seemed important.

Jay was thankful for Rontu’s kindness. Even in the times he was confused, or injured, he knew that he wasn’t alone. And she was patient with him. She allowed Jay to rest, sleeping off the pain of his injuries. They did hurt less, whatever was in that tea seemed to be working,, but he hated how he wasn’t able to use his arm, because what if the Administration came back? What if he couldn’t defend himself? He told his worries to Rontu, and she once again reassured him that he was safe. He still didn’t believe it, not fully, and hoped that his arm would heal quickly.

Jay pulled himself from his thoughts. In front of him sat the suit he used to wear, his belt, his tie that used to be blue but was now stained red, and the teleporter that he had used to escape the fall. Not that it helped much, he still broke his arm, but at least he was alive and free from the Administration. At least for now.

With a shudder he remembered all of the pain that would be waiting for him if he returned.

Picking up the small device with his free hand, he glanced at the screen, reading that it only had one teleport left.

The Administration, despite its far reach across the Merged Realm, still had limitations. Their teleport devices could only be used ten times before it had to be recharged. It was a weakness, one that Jay hated as an agent himself, but one he was thankful for now. The teleport devices took days to charge, so if they were all used, they couldn’t travel and capture those who disobeyed their rules, at least for a little while.

Jay assumed that that was one of the reasons that the Administrator wanted Jay’s powers. His lightning, if it was put into a device or battery of sorts, could no doubt charge all of their transporters instantly, giving the Administration unlimited energy, which would lead to unlimited power. They could travel anywhere they wanted without limitations, capturing anyone they wanted and even killing them. The thought was a scary one.

Unlimited power, especially one of lightning, was scary enough in anyone’s hands, even in Jay’s. But the Administration would no doubt use it to spread out their reach, turning the Merged Realms into their own playground, bullying whoever they wanted. Killing whoever stood in their way.

And all the while they would be filling out forms and quoting rulebooks.

He set the device down. He knew that he wouldn’t get a chance to charge his, not without some device to channel his lightning into it, like a battery of sorts (how he knew that he had no idea), but at least he didn’t need it fully charged at the moment. The Administration hadn’t found him yet, he didn’t have to run. He shouldn’t have to use it. He hoped that he didn’t have to.

Deep down, he trusted Rontu. Something about her put him at peace, like she would fix everything, even though he knew that no one would have the power to do that. No one could bring his memories back. He had long since given up on it.

But, without the Administration chasing him, maybe he would have a chance to make some new memories. Maybe he won’t be able to find out who he was, but he could find out who he can be. The thought would’ve been more exciting to him if he had the energy to be excited.

His whole body still aches with every second that passes. Rontu had changed his bandages, which was so painful it brought tears to his eyes, but she made up for it by giving him a sweet tea, one that soothed his injuries enough that he could sleep after. He’d been doing a lot of sleeping lately. It felt wrong after endless hours writing paperwork, countless days spent losing his powers in the Chamber.

Picking up the remains of his Administration jacket, he wondered what to do with it. He didn’t want to wear the suit again. Would Rontu let him burn it? The thought brought a small smile to his face. He didn’t know much about himself before the Merge, but he did know that he hated office work, then, and especially now. It might be good to finally get rid of the suit he wore to do it.

“You don’t wake up with the sun, do you, sport?”

Jay looked up to see Rontu walk into the cave, a large basket hanging from her tail.. He scrambled to get up, curious what was in it, ignoring the pain that flared up, but she stepped in front of him, her head gently pushing him back down.

“How do you feel this morning?”

Rontu’s eyes were bright, yet full of an aged wisdom, and Jay let himself settle down once more.

“Better. The burns don’t feel as bad, but my arm still hurts.”

“I imagined as much, you have quite the pain tolerance, little one.” Rontu said, “You act as if your chest isn’t hurt at all.”

“It does, but I can manage.” Jay set his jacket down, a small smile on his face. “Is my pain tolerance connected to my element?”

“I will admit, I don’t know as much as I probably should about your powers, but it may be.” Rontu explained, sitting down beside him. She also set the basket down, and Jay peaked in it, pleasantly surprised to see a collection of colorful fruit that appeared ripley picked. After giving Rontu a questioning glance, she nodded, and Jay began eating one with a soft skin, no doubt in his mind that they were safe.

“Yet,” Rontu continued, watching him kindly, “You do carry a strength that I did not expect. Anyone else in your position would’ve likely been dead. Your lightning can only do so much. Where do you get your strength from?”

Jay swallowed back the sweet fruit, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. He knew that he would have to tell her about his memory issues at one point or another. It’s not like he had any reason to keep it from her. She saved his life, he trusted her, and she couldn’t do anything to help him get his memories back, anyways. And, it would be nice to finally tell her, to tell anyone that cared.

“I….I don’t know. I don’t have any memories of before the Merge. I don’t know who I was before the Administration.”

“What? You don’t remember anything?” Rontu asked, sitting down beside him. Her voice was filled with concern, and Jay nodded.

“Is that why you’re so afraid?”

Jay nodded again, curling in on himself. He wasn’t surprised that she knew about his fear. She was a talking dragon, of course she knew. And maybe he wasn’t too good at hiding it. He thought of a half-hearted joke that he could tell her, one that could remove the tension from the cave, one that would hide how he really felt, but he couldn’t voice it. He didn’t have the energy to.

“I could’ve been anyone.” Jay said weakly. “I could've been a killer, or a thief, or…”

A nobody. Someone no one loved.

Those were the only explanations why no one would’ve found him yet, why he was still alone if not for Rontu. No one found him because no one was looking. No one cared for him. He wasn’t somebody worth looking for.

The thought brought a sharp pain to his chest, a tight hand that began to squeeze his ribs, even reaching up to crush his heart.

No one loved him.

“Little one. Listen to me. Why do you focus on the bad things when you could’ve been someone good?”

“Someone that knew me would’ve found me by now if I deserved it.” Jay replied dejectedly, his voice just above a whisper.

Rontu shook her head. “Now, don’t think like that. They could’ve been looking for you. I have no doubt that someone was. Why, with a strength such as yours, and the kindness I see in you, you could’ve been a hero! One of the greats that parents would tell their children about. Someone would’ve cared for you, and with that I have no doubt.”

Tears burned in the back of his eyes, and he took another bite of the fruit in his hand. He couldn’t have been a hero. He was too scared for that. He had very little control of his powers, of his emotions. He could fight well, sure, but that was because the Administration taught him how. He was a fast learner.

He couldn’t be a hero. He doubted that he could’ve even been a good person.

“I cannot promise that we will discover who you were.” Rontu said, rising to her feet. Her voice was stern yet kind. “The Merged Realm is a wide place, with hundreds of places and even more people. But I will do my best to help you, Jay Walker, in whatever form that takes.”

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

Egalt watched as Jay and Rontu stood on the sporting grounds, Rontu holding one of the large stones used for their tests in her paw, talking to Jay, her passionate tone reaching Egalt’s ears. Yet, he paid no attention to the words. He instead focused on Jay, who, unlike any other being, was a mystery to Egalt.

At first, he thought he understood the boy. He believed that he was weak, overly emotional like all humans, unable to listen to reason or instruction. He believed that Jay couldn’t understand pain, not like Egalt did, and that he was nothing more than someone gifted powers that they didn’t deserve.

Not that Egalt didn’t have faith in elemental masters, yet one as young as Jay? How could someone like him deserve to have powers such as lighting?

But that was before Egalt paid attention to the boy. And, he was willing to admit that Egalt himself could be wrong.

Jay held himself tall, despite his arm in a sling, despite the burns that marred his body. His young face, splashed with faint freckles, was also slightly scarred, a few faint white lines being visible in the right frame of light. Some scars Egalt could identify as ones that a master of lightning carried, brought about by an excessive use of their lightning powers, yet others he could not. Jay’s limbs were tense, his body standing at attention, and his eyes reflected the burdens of hundreds of men. Fear could be seen in them, yet beyond the fear, a fierce determination, one that could only be kindled by past experiences, past pain, an eagerness to survive when the world around him wanted him dead. It was the determination of a warrior, one who lost as well as gained, one who needed to continue on.

If Egalt were an enemy, he would be afraid of that look in his eyes.

Rontu had told Egalt that Jay had forgotten everything about who he was before the Merge. Yet Egalt knew that those memories, however they were taken or lost, were still the reason Jay acted as he did.

The question was, who was he? Why did he carry those scars, the burdens that he did? Why did he search for danger even in safety?

Those were the questions Egalt wanted to ask, yet he didn’t. The boy couldn’t answer them. Perhaps, if he could, he wouldn’t be training with Rontu right now.

Drawing back his thoughts, Egalt saw Rontu throw the stone in the air, away from the basket, and Jay pivoted, his hair gently bouncing at the movement. Lightning sparking at his fingertips before he let it fly, no doubt trying to hit it, but missing the stone in the air. The lightning fizzled out, and Jay’s fist clenched.

“You were close, but you need to predict where the stone is going.” Rontu was explaining to him, picking up another rock. “Again.”

Jay took a deep breath, spreading out his feet, and shot his lightning again, narrowly missing the stone. Egalt could see that he was becoming frustrated, yet the boy didn’t say a word.

Rontu didn��t waste a second throwing another rock, taking it from a pile she had made beside her, and Jay missed again, the frown on his face seemingly getting deeper with every throw. Yet, he didn’t give up, and that fierce determination he carried could be seen in everything he did.

Perhaps it was fueled by his need to know more about who he was. Egalt wouldn’t be surprised if it was.

He continued to watch. Finally, Jay hit a stone, the lightning scattering across the surface of the rock, causing the boy to jump up with joy, wincing as he landed. The impact no doubt aggravated his wounds. Rontu came closer to him, concern in her features, but Jay’s smile was enough to dismiss it.

“Congrats! You did well.” She said, and Jay shrugged sheepishly.

“I can’t believe that it took that long, but…”

“But you did it. That’s all that matters. What changed? That wasn’t luck.”

Jay took on a distant look before replying. “I…I just thought of coconuts.”

Rontu stepped back at that, and Egalt could even admit that he was surprised by the answer as well.

“Coconuts?”

“Yeah.” Jay looked to the ground, “I…just. The thought came to me. It’s like I shot lightning at a coconut before, but I can’t place when or how.”

“A memory perhaps?”

“Maybe.”

Jay grew somber then, but Rontu didn’t let him rest in it.

“Why don’t we test how strong your element is? We can explore that memory later.” At Jay’s nod, she gestured for him to sit down, the boy wincing as he did so. Egalt walked closer to them, yet still stayed far enough away so that the boy wouldn’t be distracted.

“Now,” Rontu continued. “Conjure lightning in your palm. Control it.”

Jay took a deep breath, and almost immediately lightning sparked between his fingers, forming a ball of yellow and blue lightning in his hand. The lightning shot out frantically in every direction, wild, and Jay bit his lip, fighting to control it. The lightning only grew in strength, becoming more unstable as time passed, despite Jay’s attempts. Rontu met Egalt’s eyes,a slight bit of concern passing through her gaze and to him.

Egalt had experience with elemental masters, he had to, given he was one of the two only beings to ever accomplish the Rising Dragon technique. And he could see Jay’s issue immediately.

But, should he help him? Egalt promised himself to never train another human. Rontu promised this too, yet something about Jay changed her mind, and Egalt could feel the same thing changing his.

The boy was so determined to do better, to survive despite the world being against him. Living through his wounds was proof of that. Yet, he struggled. He may be difficult to train.

Perhaps it was the good that Egalt could see in Jay that essentially changed his mind.

Stepping forward once more, onto the training stone, Egalt’s footsteps echoed across it, and Jay startled, the lightning he held vanishing.

“Your lightning is weak, and uncontrolled.” Egalt said, and Jay’s eyes widened.

“Jay, this is Egalt, my friend and fellow Dragon Master.” Rontu said, and Jay scrambled to his feet, trying to hide the wince that came from it.

“You say that they took your element?” Egalt said, ignoring the common pleasantries of the human race, and Jay nodded, his voice louder, as if he felt that he needed to be brave in Egalt’s presence.

“Yeah, they did. Not all of it, but it’s weaker than it was.”

“That is no excuse for an unstable element. You need to control the power that you have, and more will come with time.”

Jay’s voice broke, yet his gaze didn’t break away from Egalt’s. “I don’t know how.”

“Have you not trained at all?” Egalt’s voice was nearing a growl, and Rontu’s own hissed with warning.

“Egalt.”

“No.” Jay responded. “I hid my element.”

“Then hide it no longer, and come with me.”

“What?” The confusion in his voice was a startling difference that before, yet Egalt ignored it.

“Come with me. Rontu, let him ride on your back. We will travel, and you will learn.”

Jay seemed stunned by the words, but silently climbed onto Rontu’s back when she kneeled down for him, as if he trusted them fully. His dark suit was a stark contrast to the light colors of Rontu’ scales, and Egalt turned away. With a little more effort than should have been needed, he lifted in the air and flew, beating his wings to the pulse of his heart, and, despite his better judgment, led the way.

Previous Chapter (Chapter 2)//Next Chapter (Chapter 4)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #jay walker #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago jay #dragons rising season 2 #dragons rising #ninjago fanfiction #jay walker fanfiction #egalt #rontu #ninjago rontu #ninjago egalt

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tarisilmarwen · 10 months

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Rebels Rewatch: "Double Agent Droid"

Don't mess with Hera's droid, y'all.

Zeb and Ezra fistbumping in solidarity and relief that they're not the ones doing this mission.

KKKKGNNHHDD AP-5 THROWING SHADED INSULTS AT WEDGE.

I still cannot believe they sampled "Anything You Can Do" from Annie Get Your Gun, the audacity and wackiness of that choice.

Wedge regretting all of his life choices now lol.

Neat.

Right so the Stormtroopers don't make Chopper... wait at all? While the scanner is thinking? They just let him through the doors while it's still deciding if he's legit or not?

I'm sorry, these guys are just... so bizarre. The one dude with glasses that looks uncannily like Pablo Hidalgo just takes me RIGHT of the immersion.

*whispers* What do they even do?

Also why does the Controller sound way more human than the others????

I have so many questions and even AP and Chopper's bickering can't distract me from them.

Bond Villain Stupidity in not alerting the station.

Though... does anyone actually... work here? We see the other AP droid and no one else inside the facility at all.

The Controller is thinking to capture the base coordinates from Chopper. Not a bad plan but fortunately Hera wipes his memory banks between every mission, because as much as she loves her droid she can't risk compromising the safety of the Rebellion's operations and therefore takes reasonable precautions in case Chopper gets lost, stolen, or captured, Anakin.

Who are you, weird glasses man?

I'm not sure why the Alliance needs the orbital clearance codes for Lothal. They're not exactly planning to sneak in through the blockcade when they make their attack. Unless they planned on using the Quasar carrier or something to get behind the blockade and then release a whole bunch of fighters while in atmosphere?

Like, this wouldn't be an issue if the episode had not established, specifically, "We need these codes for the eventual attack on Lothal." If they had just needed updated codes to get in and out through the blockade since they'd been changed or cycled out that would be one thing but as it is....

*CLUELESS SHRUG*

Yooooooouuu are gonna need to run those numbers again my man, there's no way you had close to any kind of 80% chance of getting near the Rebel base.

Chopper being nice is immediately suspicious.

Controller dude is doing a terrible job impersonating Chopper, which is why this was a dumb plan to begin with.

"We must appease him [AP-5]." Literally the opposite of what Chopper would do, you need to actually study your targets before trying to impersonate them, why are y'all so bad at this?

This is one of those tropes that annoys me, when the impersonator is doing such a bad job of playing the target that it should ping people's suspicions or at least make them ask what the hell is up with them.

Poor Wedge is such a butt monkey in this episode but it is hilarious.

Rebels said don't be so quick to discount conspiracy theories, send note.

<333333

To AP-5's credit, Ezra and Hera do ping Chopper's behavior as weird.

Ezra honey, please sit on the furniture like a normal person lol.

All right, some props in that we figure things are funky much quicker than most characters in this type of scenario.

-squint-

Who's... who's room is that?

*mental map of the ship*

Gotta be Hera's, right? Closest to the cockpit, correct side... Except it doesn't look like the props and assets from Hera's room so I dunno.

*rubs temples* Why do they need a data spike to decode the navicomputer? Chopper never needed to do anything put plug in to access the navicomputer before, this is only to add a ticking clock device isn't it?

Some people questioned why Ezra didn't use his lightsaber, which could have been a plot hole except for one I'm sure Hera would severely disapprove of her ship being chopped up and two... he doesn't have his lightsaber, it's not clipped to his belt anywhere.

Ezra managing to hang on to Zeb here is kind of impressive, actually.

You can tell Chopper's compromised and trying to find the base from the hold computer? Really?

"We don't have spacesuits." YOU GET 'EM LATER THOUGH, LOLOL.

I'm sorry I cannot take you seriously dude, lol.

Gdgkjhkgshd WAS THAT THE DEJARIK TABLE CHOPPER PICKED UP THOSE BLASTERS FROM? HOW. THERE WERE NO BLASTERS ON THE TABLE WHEN THE GROUP LEFT THE ROOM. WHOSE BLASTERS EVEN ARE THOSE?

*shakes writers* WHY DOES THIS EPISODE MAKE SO SENSE?!

Ooooh Hera mad.

See, Ezra knows.

That's... not even remotely how that works, Hera, but okay,

OKAY.

This genuinely sad moment deserved such a better episode.

The unhinged insanity that is AP-5 almost breaking into a musical number.

"No no no go away! I was SO happy!" WHY DID THEY STICK THE FUNNIEST LINE IN THIS EPISODE IT'S NOT FAIR LOLOLOL.

Wedge getting caught in the crossfire lol.

This episode is... I don't even know. Nothing about it makes sense, it has moments of genuine hilarity but they're mismatched pieces in a weird patchwork of tropes and plot elements that are disjointed and slapdash and I just--*rubs face over hands*--it's so BIZARRE and it's funny in a way but I can't I just... can't.

Not even trying to superficially tie this into Thrawn's search for the base gives this enough plot relevance, I would... I would not keep this episode. Like, either fold some of this into "Warhead" to make that stronger or axe this entirely and wholecloth replace it with something else. (Maybe another episode of Ezra struggling with his holocron addiction since people were apparently so pressed that that arc was short.)

I think even the show was embarrassed about this one, I remember we would usually get an episode preview in the Rebels Recon and a TV spot before each new episode and with this one they just kind of... skipped ahead to talking about "Twin Suns", ha ha.

Final verdict I guess? I would save the funny bits and try to put them in a different episode but otherwise this episode is kind of a skip.

#star wars #star wars rebels #rebels rewatch #liveblog

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notwithaste · 1 year

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me for the past few nights: next ep is the one something happens, i can feel it 🤞🏻🤞🏻and tonight i will finally be right 😂 i have a very nice red on the shelf for just such an occasion; and it’s australian, too! (a friend said i might have to wait until the movie so she’s no longer a friend 😌)

ON that bittersweet reaching the end of my journey with them note!

the tennis ep was actually insane. to be fair, me commenting on miss fisher murder mysteries is just me saying they were so insane for this over and over again 😂

no but they were so insane for this episode!

starting right off the bat with jack teasing her with the spider fingers thing was just 🥺 i can see so clearly into the established relationship and it is good. and by the way, what i love most about them is that established relationship phrack is going to be exactly like pre-canon phrack except sometimes they’ll be naked.

and then her finger on his lips; i know you know what you’re doing miss fisher!

alas for the main event, and what if this scene was my last straw 😭

i love how we went from jack not wanting phryne anywhere near his crime scenes to him having the paperwork ready and giving her his childhood badge so they can work together. that’s what we call development, kids. and only a couple of episodes after he gave her that brooch. he’ll never ask her that question and he’ll never give her the ring but boy is he asking all the other questions in all the other ways, and if that paper and that badge aren’t symbolism for a certain kind of lasting union - but custom tailored to the two of them - i will eat my hat!

and can we take a moment to ~reflect and properly consider how fast phryne signed those papers. no hesitation, no questions asked before committing herself to whatever jack was offering. for me, that was such a ~moment; the way her trust in him is unquestioning and absolute.

no but this might be my favourite still of her ever actually:

i can’t stop thinking about it, how she looks at him like he hung the moon and it’s actually incredibly endearing the way she is just so obviously crazy about him 😭 and it’s the way he still seems pretty oblivious to the extent of her feelings is what really gets me. i mean, obviously he ~knows she wants him, she has never been shy about that; and he knows she cares about him, and he probably knows she likes him. but i don’t think he actually realises exactly how head-over-heels in love she is with him (hint: it’s about the same amount he’s in love with her).

and there’s something about the above cap that makes it a sister cap to this one:

the two scenes just give the same energy. phryne fisher, bare faced and smitten with jack robinson.

the internal device scene was comic gold, i am still loling at it moving, at hugh’s realisation, at jack being amusedly unfazed. i mean season one jack would have absolutely blushed and stammered his way through that but our season three jack has had the benefit of miss phryne fisher completely invade his life and that guy is made of sterner stuff 🏌🏻‍♀️

IT’S SO MUCH BETTER WHEN HE DOES IT WITH HIS TEETH line 😭 good grief, jealous phryne is my favourite phryne, i fear. it’s nothing out of control and it doesn’t linger or colour her actions or define their relationship even for a bit; which is what makes it so delicious when she indulges in that moment of asserting herself as the woman in jack’s life. full marks! (also full marks for jack never giving these women but an inch. i love that.)

no but jack’s brain hasn’t had a steady blood supply for two straight seasons now; he is god’s strongest strongest soldier

i suppose the blood supply issue explains my hypothetical above about how the hell does he not see she’s crazy about him 😭

them playing tennis like the couple they are, i hate them actually. their canon relationship game will serve, i know it. (parampapshh 🥁)

anyway, it’s really gonna be the last episode huh they’re really like that 😮‍💨 tbh with this sort of absolutely insane off the charts chemistry and incredible build-up, i can’t say i even mind. i’m not someone who needs to see the day-to-day of an established relationship, and while it would have been great to see them work on a case or two as a couple, to see them bickering and teasing and being them together for a season, i’m equally happy to leave that to fic. the build up is so much more important; the way two people find their way to each other, and honestly with this show it feels so earned.

#miss fisher's murder mysteries #phrack #phryne x jack #phryne fisher #jack robinson #game set & murder

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astralisbelle · 1 year

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Silk For Armor 1 - The Crime Lord and the Dancer

Silk For Armor Masterlist tags: dancer!reader, singer!reader, reader has backstory, s3 not canon, diverges around TBOBF, half fix-it fic, half super self-indulgence, original locations and lore, eventual reveal of reader backstory, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

chapter summary: In search of a replacement for his beloved ship, the Mandalorian ends up on an Outer Rim planet. WARNINGS: language, sex work, drug mentions

note: Hi y'all! I'm having a teeny bit of Writer's Block for Snow White atm so I thought I'd upload the first chapter of this one. I hope to get back to the other one soon, but in the meantime, please enjoy the first installment of this fic!

Once again, Din Djarin finds himself all alone in the galaxy.

Then you are no longer a Mandalorian.

He replays the words in his head over and over, unable to protect himself from the sting against his chest and head. What a fool he was for thinking that he could come back and pretend that nothing happened, that he wasn’t automatically an apostate for removing his helmet.

But he did it for Grogu. He did it for his foundling, for the one most precious to him in the entire galaxy, and in that, he cannot say he regrets it.

As he stumbles away from the covert, underneath the darkness of the night sky, he hears a beep from his belt signaling an incoming transmission. Din hesitates in answering, unsure if he is in the right head-space for anything of the sort, but he decides that he could use the distraction; it beats spiraling into despair when he thinks too hard about what he wants to do next. He retrieves the device from his belt and holds it in his palm, clicking a button. From the small screen, a hologram of Peli sits on his hand, her hands on her hips and a grin on her face.

“Hey, Mando!” she calls, waving. “I’m so glad you picked up! Boy, I’ve got great news for you.”

He doubts it. “What is it?”

“Remember how you asked me about finding you a replacement for the Razor Crest? Well, I found one!”

“You did?” This could be good — finding a new ship might just be the perfect distraction right now. If he dwells on the looming realization of his solitude, he might descend down the wrong path. Yes, this can work. “Should I come to Tatooine?”

“No, no.” Peli waves her hand. “No need. I just received word from a contact on the planet Tebin Ramm.” Din’s fist clenches. Tebin Ramm is a wretched hive that made the old Nevarro seem like Coruscant. “Told me his boss-man would be willing to negotiate with you on a fair price for a Razor Crest.”

“I doubt I’d get anywhere near a fair price on Tebin Ramm. They’re more likely to rob me than speak to me.”

“Yeah, I knew you’d say that. Well, that’s the price of a Razor Crest.” She points back with her thumb. “Of course, if you just need a ship, I do have something right here that I can fix up for you. She’ll make any dusty old Razor Crest look like a bantha cart!”

Din sighs, taking a moment to think. “You trust this contact?”

“Never steered me wrong in the past. But hey, I get it, no one likes to go to Tebin Ramm. Which is why, if you want a guaranteed deal, I can fix that baby I’ve got–”

“I’ll go meet this contact.” Peli slumps over. “Where can I find them?”

“Really? That didn’t work? Pssh.” She rolls her eyes. “You and your Razor Crest. Okay, fine, I’ll send you the information and let him know you’re on your way.”

“Thanks.” The transmission ends and he pockets his device, standing in place to think. Tebin Ramm is the last place he wants to go, but since he doesn’t have to worry about escorting anyone else, he should be fine. As long as he keeps to himself and spends the least amount of time there as possible, he can walk — or fly, rather — away from this with a Razor Crest.

Finding passage to Tebin Ramm is something of a challenge for him. No commercial flights dare venture close to that section of the Outer Rim, meaning he has to bargain with some smugglers to let him hitch a ride back to their base there.

It is a lawless planet if he’s ever seen one, and he has seen plenty. Nearly every hunter in the guild refuses to take jobs in Tebin Ramm and the ones that do are rarely ever seen again. All he knows is that the planet is a hive for gangsters and criminals, with different dons and lords running their sectors how they please. As soon as he steps off the smugglers’ ship, a chill runs up his spine.

The streets are dimly lit only by the gaudy neon signs of the tall buildings and a sort of fog permeates throughout the area. Rough-looking people of all races and genders walk around with blasters openly placed on their hips. They yell at each other from across the street, harass others that pass them by, and overall cause ruckus. He sees people spilling drinks from bottles underneath the hazy signs. Bracing himself and adopting his usual intimidating walk, the Mandalorian ventures forth into the streets.

He gets looks and stares, which is to be expected. Many of the thugs he passes give him a once-over, as if sizing up how many credits they can swim in if they took his beskar. Others turn alluring eyes towards him, one woman even licking her bottom lip in plain view. Just keep going, he tells himself. Unfortunately, he knows it’s about to get worse. Peli’s information tells him he has to turn the corner and step into the sleazy alleys of a red-light district. Women leaning against the buildings instantly turn their attention towards him, bending over to show off their cleavages, pulling up their dresses to tempt him with their thighs. They call him, beg him, reach for him but never make contact. On the balconies of the buildings he walks in between, even more half-naked women dance and beckon the patrons on the street.

In one instance, he can clearly see one of them pressing her hands against the window while a customer uses her from the back while she keeps her lips firmly shut. Din shivers, keeping his face forward. Now, he almost wishes that there is no Razor Crest.

Tucked away in the red-light district is a small theater, marked only by the neon. From the outside, it doesn’t seem impressive, but Din clocks the two bouncers at the front that suggest otherwise. Din approaches them, keeping his hands clear.

“I’m here to see Kaslur Vandor.”

The two bouncers exchange glances before they nod and step aside, granting him entrance. Din braces himself once more and crosses the threshold. The theater isn’t as grand as some of the other ones he knows are in this place, having only a few round tables around the stage. It’s more intimate that way, he supposes. One of the bouncers points him towards the table right at the end of the stage’s catwalk, the one surrounded by thugs with a very prominent man sitting at its center. A thin layer of sweat forms on Din’s brow — Peli’s contact was a big shot? He supposes it has to make sense, considering who is likely to have Razor Crests in this day and age. Steeling himself, he saunters over. Immediately, every man at that table stands up and forms a wall between him and Kaslur, staring him down.

Without looking at Din, the large man still sitting waves his hand, his fat fingers sporting multiple rings. “Let him sit.” The man closest to Din shoves him in a rickety chair next to Kaslur, who ignores him for now in favor of scooping clams and sucking on their meat. “So, you’re the Mandalorian? I gotta say, it takes a lot of balls to walk in here wearing as much beskar as you do.”

Din lets silence fill the air for a few uncomfortable seconds. “I hear you have a Razor Crest.”

Kaslur laughs. “Business already?” He turns to Din, letting him get a good look at his greasy over-comb and scarred face. “You need to slow down, Mando. The show’s about to start.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Ohoho.” Kaslur’s grin is anything but welcoming. “You don’t gotta be. But I’m warning you: you keep quiet during her performance.” He points a dinner knife towards him. “If you talk to me or even dare to clear your throat, you’ll leave here without one, got it?”

Din glares at him, his eye twitching but thankfully masked by the helmet. “...Got it.” The lights dim and the spotlight shines against the red curtains. Immediately, the rest of the audience, including Kaslur, applaud until the sounds of a single drum quiets them down. Din crosses his arms and expects some ill-dressed girl to come out and disrobe even more… not his idea of a great performance.

The curtain parts and the first thing he sees is a foot coming forward. A woman steps forward in time with the drum, golden jewelry adorning her ankles and wrists. Her legs peek through a slit-skirt with coins around her hips that jingle with each step. The small top that wraps around her bosom exposes her midriff. And finally, her face is covered with a veil, showing only her piercing, hypnotic eyes.

She lifts her hands and assumes a dancing position, feet pointed, wrists crossed. Then, when an exotic sounding horn and more percussion begin, she sings. Din’s eyes widen when he hears her voice, so pure and strong. The woman is mystifying as she dances, twirling around and removing pieces of scarf and tulle from her skirt. She uses them in her routine, her moves sensual, but not raunchy. His vision tunnels as he focuses on her, hearing her beautiful voice, watching her take off pieces until her legs are completely bare. Strutting down the catwalk, she baits the men that sit near her feet, blowing kisses and swiping herself away from their reaching hands. When she reaches the end where they sit, she falls to her knees.

Din stares right in her eyes as she focuses entirely on Kaslur, singing right to him. She reaches for him, cupping his cheek as a giddy and hungry look overtakes him. It’s in this moment that she briefly breaks eye contact with Kaslur and her striking eyes meet the dark T of the Mandalorian’s visor.

And time stands still. He cannot see her mouth, but her eye makeup betrays how wide they go. She stares for a moment as she holds her note, and Din cannot help but keep her gaze.

Then it ends. She turns back to Kaslur and slides back, her touch fleeting. Standing back up, she twirls again during the music’s swelling finale. As the horns and drums play together, she falls to her knees again with a dramatic flourish, the song ending with a large strike from the instruments. The theater is dead quiet for just a second before it erupts into a standing ovation. The men whistle and rave, pounding their tables and spilling their drinks.

She elegantly stands back up and turns on her heel to walk back down towards the curtain. Before she disappears behind it, she glances over her shoulder and Din swears she looks right at him. As soon as she is gone Kaslur sits back down with a thud and chuckles.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” he asks Din. “That’s my girl.”

“Your…?” Normally, Din doesn’t give a womp rat’s ass about anyone personal relationships, but something about this one strikes him as odd. Though he could not see her face, he knows that she has to be beautiful, especially from her eyes. A singer and dancer as talented as she is somehow with this mobster? It would make sense if she were a common escort or dancer, but she is neither of those things.

“That’s right. So don’t go making googly-eyes at her, got it?”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he says. “Now, about the Razor Crest.”

“Alright, alright.” Kaslur sighs. “Yeah, I’ve got a Razor Crest.”

“When can I see it?”

“You can see it when you’ve paid up.” Din tilts his head in a way that shows his disapproval. “Trust me, Mando. I wouldn’t drag you to this shithole if it wasn’t legit. Besides, scamming is a poor con man’s job.” He leans back in his chair.

“So… credits?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not a poor man. While I would appreciate your credits, you’ve got something more valuable.” Din’s ready to hear him ask for the beskar. “You’re a Mandalorian. I wouldn’t need five fucking bodyguards if I had a Mandalorian.”

“...You want me to work for you?”

Kaslur waves his hand. “I want you to do one job for me. One measly little job and the Razor Crest is yours.”

Din knows better than anyone that one measly little job is never as temporary as it seems. One job lead him to Grogu. One job upended his life and catapulted it into a completely different trajectory. But, to get a Razor Crest for doing one errand is a bargain; he knows it and Kaslur knows it too. “What’s the job?”

“Need you to find a guy for me.” Kaslur takes out a puck and slides it over. “You can bring him in dead or alive, doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is this.” He leans in. “He stole something from me. A precious necklace made of the finest jewels money can buy.”

“A… necklace?”

“I know.” Kaslur puts a hand over his heart. “I’m a sentimental guy. What can I say?” Somehow, Din doubts that. “That little weasel has it. Or, maybe he sold it already. Bring me him and the necklace and the Razor Crest is all yours.”

The Mandalorian taps his finger on the table, weighing the options in his head. Guy would be easy to find. Necklace less so. If the guy was smart, he would have separated it and sold the jewels, so Din has to pray that he’s stupid.

Finally, he nods and takes the puck. “Deal.”

Din leaves the theater, his footsteps slower and his eyes heavy. He needs to find someplace to rest for the night… that isn’t one of these regular hotels. In this planet, he may be better off sleeping in his armor wherever he chooses to stay. He keeps his eyes forward, not inviting any of the escorts on the boulevard to call him.

Just before he turns the corner, a woman’s voice yanks his attention. “Congratulations!” A Twi’lek woman with purple skin jumps in front of him. “You’ve won a free night with one of our most popular girls. C’mon!” She pulls on his hand, but he doesn’t move, his feet planted firmly in the ground.

“Not interested,” he says, pulling his hand back. When he takes a step forward, she blocks him again.

“Uh. Please, sir? W-We’d really appreciate it—”

“No thank you.”

Her jubilant expression falls into one of worry. “Please, wait.” Her voice drops low. “Sir, she really, really needs to talk to you. And this is the only way.”

“Who does?”

“I…” She glances around. “I can’t say it here. He has eyes everywhere.” The Twi’lek pleads with her eyes. After dropping the act, Din has a hard time saying no to her. Something is strange and though he knows that he should move on and focus on his job, he caves.

“Fine,” he sighs. “This better be just a conversation.”

Instantly, the Twi’lek smiles. “Of course.” When she pulls his hand again, her voice is louder. “Oooh, we’ve got ourselves a lucky, lucky man!” Stars, he hopes that this is just a cover. If it’s not, then he’s leaving immediately.

She leads him into a den with lighting even worse than the theater. People around him wore exotic clothes, some bound in leather, other hidden behind feathered masks. The smell of drugs wafts through the air, accompanied by light chatter in the dark corners. They stare at him as the Twi’lek weaves him through the crowd towards the back where there are various rooms. Din hears screams and moans, he hears whips and slaps. What the hell has he gotten himself into?

He follows her up a few flights of stairs that are considerably quieter. Some of the doors are open, showing parlor rooms where patrons and escorts talk and flirt. Finally, in the back, she gestures for him to enter. Din gives her a lengthy pause before he steels himself and opens the door.

The room is small, having only a plush, purple love seat and a decorative chandelier above. There is someone there: a woman, but she isn’t dressed in the way he would expect the women here to dress. She wears a cloak over her shoulders and plain clothes of earthy tones underneath it, her hair tied back. The door closes behind him.

“You came!” she says. “Oh, thank the Stars. Please, sit.”

“I’ll stand.”

“O...kay.” She nods, taking a step back.

“Who are you?”

“Who… oh, you don’t recognize me?” She smiles at him. “We… well, we didn’t meet, but you saw me dance earlier.” Din’s brows lift. This was the dancer? When he looks further into her eyes, he recognizes them now without the makeup. He sees the rest of her face and his chest tightens. What a transformation between the sensual dancer — and amazing singer — he witnessed earlier and the humble woman that stands before him. She bows her head and tells him her name, just her given one. “I apologize for the choice of venue, but I had little options.” She crosses her arms and turns her head. “Kaslur has eyes and ears nearly everywhere.”

Din steps back towards the wall, leaning against it with one shoulder. “You don’t want to be seen talking to me?”

“He’s rather… possessive, let’s say.”

“Sounds like you need a new boyfriend.”

The dancer laughs. “Boyfriend? Is that what he told you?” She sighs. “Trust me when I say that I would rather have my throat slit than even kiss that man.” Her brows furrow together in disgust. “Why are you here on this awful planet, Mandalorian?”

He crosses his arms. “I could ask the same thing of you.”

She chuckles and takes a seat on the couch. “You could. But unfortunately, we only have so much time.”

Din purses his lips. “I’m going to do a job for Kaslur. In exchange, he’s going to give me the Razor Crest.”

“The Razor Crest? Oh, that old thing. I haven’t the faintest clue why you’d want it, but to his their own.” To Din, it’s extraordinary that her voice is melodic, even as she talks. At least he can confirm that there is a ship to begin with. “But in any case, that’s good. Great, even.” She stands and takes a step towards him. “And then I assume that you’d be planning to leave, correct?”

“I would.” Where is this going?

She stops in front of him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. Biting on her bottom lip, she holds her hands and twiddles her fingers. “If that’s the case, then I… I must ask you of something. When you get the Razor Crest...” She drops her hands on his arms and he flinches, pushing himself off the wall. “Please.” The desperation from her voice gives him pause. The dancer squeezes his forearms and locks in on the darkness of his visor, as if she can see past the black and right into his dark eyes. “Kidnap me.”

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfic #work: silk for armor

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slippinmickeys · 1 year

Text

The Mesas of Deuteronilus Mensae (33/?)

They had not spoken to the crew in the HAB for nearly a month. After speaking with them daily—and often many times during the day—not having that outside line of communication was beginning to make it feel like they were the only two people who existed. Not just on the planet, but anywhere.

And it oddly just… worked. They worked. Like interlocking pieces, it felt like they had been machine-toolled for each other, seamlessly fitting together in all of the ways that were discussed in polite company and several that weren’t.

Scully knew this kind of chemistry was once-in-a-lifetime. And like Nerio, Mars’ consort, Scully was willing to fight for it.

They were stopped, deploying the penultimate weather balloon, which Scully had volunteered to do herself. It wasn’t that she wanted to get away from Mulder, but the solitude gave her time to think, to plan, to get her mind right before heading for their last deploy-point. After which they would have to head back to the HAB. To whatever had happened there, and ultimately to their fate.

She stepped around the clunky form of Robo-3, who they’d ordered to follow them, keeping a thick cable tether on him in case of mission creep. The robot had sustained unknown damage when the screwdriver had been forcibly lodged in his motherboard, but he was still attempting to assist Scully, sluggish and off as he was. He still had the mechanical stutter, once or twice tried to roll off into the Martian countryside, and occasionally dropped things, but it was easier to use him to log her actions than it was to report everything back to Mulder on board the rover so that he could document her progress for the record.

“Ready to deploy WBD-263,” she said into her comm-link.

“WBD-263 ch-ch-check,” came Robo-3’s response.

Scully switched on the device’s motor and hit the solar panels with compressed air, pushing the can back into the pouch that hung at her side. The suit was getting tight around the middle, and she was nervous about fitting into it not far into the near future. With a sigh, she launched the second-to-last weather balloon up into the winds.

“Two Six Three deployed,” she reported.

“T-t-two Six Three, logged. P-p-osition marked.”

“Thank you, Robo-3,” she said politely.

“You are w-w-welcome, Scully.”

She wasn’t quite ready for the airlock yet, and leaned back, trying to get her spine to pop and looking out at the Martian vista. It really was a sight to see.

She turned to the robotic assistant. There were scorch marks around his main access panel, and several dents in his side. She felt a soft swell of misplaced empathy. He was a robot, afterall.

“What happened to you out there, Three?” she asked him after a few moments, her tone gentle, as if she were trying to approach a skittish colt.

“Out w-w-where?”

“We pulled a screwdriver out of your motherboard, Three. Someone tried to hurt you.” She knew it was ridiculous framing it thus to a robot, but the robo assistants of the HAB were programmed to be courteous and friendly, and you couldn’t help but anthropomorphise them, to a degree.

Three was quiet for a moment, and then… “D-d-deprogram.”

Scully sighed. “Maintain all current programs, Three.”

“M-maintaining.”

Scully turned to go into the airlock when, against her better judgment, and cursing herself even while she was doing it, called out one last thing.

“Three?”

“Y-yes?”

“You’re a good robot, Three.”

For some reason, Scully pictured a lonely dog that gently began to wag its tail.

“Th-thank you, Scully. You are a capable and k-k-kind human.”

Scully shook her head ruefully and gave one more check to make sure the robot’s tether hadn’t gotten twisted or hung up on anything and was reaching for the airlock release when the robot spoke again. She turned slowly back to it.

“Robo-3, repeat.”

“Hardsuit signal d-d-detected.”

“You’re probably picking up on my suit, Three.”

“N-negative, Scully. Hardsuit signal is w-weak. One point two four clicks north-northwest.”

It had to be another bug in the damaged robot’s system. But he looked so damn earnest .

Jesus. She’d been out here too long. “Mulder,” Scully said into her comms.

“Mulder here.”

“Three is reporting a hardsuit signal.”

“It’s probably yours. He’s glitchy.”

“That’s what I told him, but he said it was weak and one point two four clicks north-northwest.”

“That’s towards the HAB.”

“Yeah,” Scully said, a tingling feeling crawling up her spine. “My suit can’t pick up a signal that far out, can you run a check from the rover?”

“Standby.”

Scully turned on her heel in the direction that Three had indicated. There was nothing in the distance but a far off mesa and miles and miles of rusty dirt and rock.

“Scully?” Mulder’s voice crackled into her ear speaker.

“Yeah?”

“The rover is picking up one signal. A hardsuit. Henderson’s signature.”

“Is the other rover out here?”

“Negative.” His tenor was grave. “I’m picking up Henderson and nothing else.”

They’d had to release Robo-3 or he would have slowed them down. Scully removed the tether with a feeling like she was taking the collar off of a beloved dog and moving to a home in a distant city that didn’t allow pets. Her nose had tingled like she was about to cry.

“Should I f-f-follow you?” he had asked.

Fucking hormones . “Yes,” Scully had said on a ridiculous sniff, and she closed the door on the robot, feeling guilty for leaving a man behind, even if he was a machine that didn’t feel a thing. Once she was back in the rover, she’d closed the airlock door with more force than necessary.

Mulder drove at break-neck, or as near to break-neck speed as the rover was capable.

“There!” said Scully. She was standing behind Mulder in the left-hand pilot’s seat, still fully dressed in her hardsuit, sans helmet. Scanning the horizon before them, her eyes caught an oddly shaped hump to their 11:00. Mulder yanked the wheel in the direction she indicated and she held onto the top of his seat as the rover swerved left.

“Shit. Shit!” she said, as they approached, the hardsuit-clad figure lying prone on the ground, dust built up in a drift at his back. The three purple stripes on the suit’s legs and arms indicating Henderson.

Scully slammed on her helmet without bothering to check if the sticky mechanism was sealed and threw herself into the airlock. She was out onto the regolith as soon as it cleared, rushing to Henderson’s side, lifting up his left arm so that she could take a look at his bio-readout. She had to clear dust from it. He was on his side facing away from her, and she couldn’t get a look at his face as his gold-plated face shield was down.

His readout was flashing red, indicating low battery, his suit on the absolute last dregs of its power. It couldn’t so much as show her his lifesigns. Even if she pulled up his bio-readouts on her own suit using the medical program, his suit didn’t have the necessary battery power to transmit.

“Mulder, get out here, I need you!” she shouted.

There was a muffled grunt—probably as Mulder scrambled to put on his suit. “I’m on my way!”

Scully pushed at Henderson, who flopped limply until he was lying on his back. She could probably, with the added strength the planet’s lesser gravity gave her, heave the man over her shoulder and up to the airlock, but she knew she shouldn’t be doing any kind of heavy lifting, particularly after the incident the week prior. She was supposed to be taking it easy. And so she waited. And waited. Each minute ticking by that she couldn’t help her patient and crew member longer than the one before it.

Finally, Mulder burst through the airlock door and practically landed on top of them, so powerful had been his leap.

“Is he alive?” Mulder panted into the comm when he landed, spraying dust and debris in a three foot arc around them.

“I don’t know,” Scully responded. “His suit is running on fumes. We need to get him into the rover. I’m going to go through first. You get him in the airlock and I’ll pull him through when he’s clear.

Mulder swore but bent down to bodily hoist the man up, and Scully made for airlock. Once in the rover, she tore off her helmet and shucked off the top section of her suit. It seemed to take ages for the airlock’s vacuum to be satisfied with its clearing job and finally opened its inner door, expelling the body of Henderson partially onto the floor of the rover. Mulder must have had the man half-propped up and leaning against the inner door.

Scully dragged him fully into the rover, so that Mulder could go through, and she grabbed for Henderson’s helmet and pulled it off. Its mechanism was relatively clean, not choked with dust and grime like her own.

The man’s face was pasty white, chalky. He didn’t look alive. Scully worked her fingers up under his chin until she found a pulse; thready and weak, his skin like ice.

Mulder came through the airlock a moment later.

“Is he alive?” he asked the second he’d removed his helmet.

“Barely,” Scully said. “Mulder, I need you to help me get him into the lab. It’s a med bay now. If we don’t get him warmed up, he’s going to die.”

XxXxXxXxXxX

Mulder shucked off his gloves and helped Scully rid the other astronaut of his hardsuit and then grabbed Henderson’s shoulders, leaving Scully to lift his lower half so that he could take nearly all of the other man’s weight. He eyed Scully carefully as they worked Henderson onto the lab table, Mulder keeping a careful watch for any sign of discomfort on his lover’s face.

While Mulder held onto the cold, dead weight of their crewman, Scully extended the lab table into a bed and worked one of the cot mattresses under him, piling the blankets from all the other cots on top of him. Then Scully bent down and pulled a box from one of the cabinets and tore it open. She tossed Mulder several small packets.

“Heat packs,” she said, holding one up and tearing off a plastic sheet from the top. “Pulling this off activates the chemicals that heat it up. Once you get one off, put it on Henderson. You need to cover him in these, Mulder, head to toe.”

Mulder nodded and began tearing off the activation strips and working the packs under the blankets, pressing them into Henderson’s clammy flesh. While he worked to heat the man up, Scully was a blur of activity, flitting this way and that, working an oxygen cannula under his nose, and hooking the injured man up to a bio monitoring station. Soon the rocky blip-blip of Henderson’s tachy heartbeat filled the rover.

Scully had already secured heat packs to Henderson’s neck—the quickest way to heat up his blood—so when Mulder got to the top of his chest, he stood back, breathing hard. Mulder was still wearing his hardsuit and he was sweating inside of it, the joints rubbing blisters into his flesh.

“What do we do now?” he asked, pulling at the neck of his suit with a wince.

“We need to—” Scully started, but cut herself off. Something had drawn her attention to the man on the table in front of them. She bent over to examine Henderson’s head, squinting when she got close.

“What is it?” Mulder asked.

Scully reached forward and touched at something on the man’s hairline behind his right ear. When she pulled her hand back, it was covered in a thick smear of blood.

“There’s a contusion here, Mulder,” she said, straightening, her face going pale. “Someone hit him. Hard.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #the x-files #my fic #msr #au #wip #mars au

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lesbi-nyan · 4 months

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question did u have to work up to a flat cage or were u already small enough

skip to the end for tldr.

tbh im pretty small. I have experience with other cages but they were all too big.

before the flat metal cage, i got a holy trainer v4 in the nub size, which is already super small. but something about it felt weird? it would hang down off my body unless I used a ribbon to tie it around my waist. that's not too uncommon, but i also noticed that it didnt really stop me getting hard, which is ideally what i want.. also the bulge of it was still kinda uncomfortable/noticeable in pants, and the design of the rings werent circular, but rather kinda wavy circle, so it wouldnt rest flat against my crotch anyways.

eventually, after being so horny for long enough thinking about a flat cage, i ended up buying one.

first time i put it on it was real easy and peeing in it was fine. peeing it is not always fine. it can get very messy. i dont have a catheter tube to help direct it, and i dont really want one? scared of uti and such. i have pics on my blog (you can find the tag in my bio) where im in the flat cage.

tbh, i can still get hard in the flat cage, BUT it isn't anywhere near as much of an erection as i could get in the htv4, let alone my first cage where i could get fully hard, and it sucked.

i think it could be that the strap around my waist doesnt clip tightly enough, thus allowing the room for it to push away from my body. and my clit can pop out. has popped out a couple times when i get too hard. so . maybe i could try using ribbon to see if that fixes it??

it isn't by any means a perfect device, at least for me, but it is really good, and better than any other ive worn, and actually comfy to wear. the metal chafes a bit at night, so i use some body lotion and water to ease it, otherwise i take it off if its too uncomfortable. i usually unlock it to readjust, then i can wear it fine for another handful of hours before i have to unlock and readjust again.

I wore it the last week for 2 nights and 2 days in a row with 0 unlocking. but i've worn it for 3 days in a row with only unlocking to readjust/ clean after peeing.

so tldr; to answer your question, i did "work up to a flat cage," but i dont think it was necessary. the holy trainer v4 was pretty great, despite those things i mentioned, and it helped me get used to being in a smaller tube lengthwise, but width was something i need to be tighter. hope this helps. lemme know if u have more questions ~nya

#nyanko moos #halo-as-handles answered

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barkrry · 2 years

Photo

Harry x Matty [1D Band Member OC] / Harry x OFC Masterlist *NOT MY MANIP, CREDITS TO ORIGINAL CREATOR* Several tabloids came out about them. It wasn’t unusual, and most of it was rumours from some anonymous source with zero evidence to back it up. But this time was different, this time they had lots of evidence to back up the story that ran across every single tabloid and social media site.

ONE DIRECTION INTO MY HEART: HARRY STYLES & MATTY FORREST DATING

Matty’s iCloud had been hacked, not that anyone was sure of how. But she was just another in the long line of celebrities who would get hacked. But with the hacking came the leak of many private images of Matty and the people she loved, including the one person she kept hidden from her work life.

Sure, her and Harry were band-mates, but they were never going to let their relationship get in the way of their work, when they were on stage, they were just Harry and Matty. Not Hatty.

But now, all the pictures that she had saved on her phone featuring the pair of them had been leaked and were now everywhere either of them looked. There were already fan comments that they were forced to hide their relationship by management, but there were very few comments mentioning that their privacy had been disrespected.

Currently Matty was curled up against Harry’s chest on the tour bus, her phone abandoned on the table. His fingers were gently brushing along her arm, the pair of them in a fallen silence. Management and the PR team were working out the best way to tackle this, while the other four members were doing their best to distract the couple.

Of course, some unseens of them had gotten out as well, but nothing anywhere near as private as for the couple. A picture of Niall with a shaving cream beard, Louis with a pair of boxers over his jeans. Liam doing a handstand shirtless, with drawn on sharpie abs. And maybe a picture of Zayn when he first wakes up, which some fans found made him even more perfect.

But the pictures of Matty and Harry were private, pictures of them messing around, kissing, hugging. Unseens of Harry that the couple wanted to keep between them, something to give them a giggle when there was a quiet moment or two.

BUZZ, BUZZ.

Harry frowned, carefully leaning forward to pick up her device when he heard it ringing. Glancing down at his girlfriend who was almost asleep against his chest, before he was sliding the bar to answer and press the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Florie, it’s Harry,” he said softly down the mic, fingers caressing through Matty’s hair.

“Harry, is she there? Can I speak to her?” Florie’s voice was rushed, like she was panicking.

“She’s here, I don’t think she wants to speak right now,” he admitted, glancing down at her again, to see she hadn’t even lifted her head at the mention of her sister’s name. “Not just- not to anybody, she’s- well-”

“I saw the pictures, I’m- I’m sorry that happened to you guys,” Florie said, and he could hear the frown in her voice. “I would have called sooner, I didn’t see until someone at work-”

Harry nodded his head, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Matty’s head as he adjusted himself. “It’s yer sister,” he mumbled against her head. “Wanna talk to her?”

Matty raised her eyes, her head shaking as she began to tear up again. Her lips pressed together as she sniffled, and Harry was cursing softly.

“Uh, I’ve gotta go, Florie. I’ll- I’ll try and keep you updated-” He rushed out before he was quickly hanging up, sliding the phone back onto the table.

His arms were wrapping around her securely, rubbing her back and mumbling soft reassurances into her hair. He knew that no matter what, he would be there for her. He didn’t care about the press, or management or PR or the fans. He cared about the woman in his arms, the woman he loved (but he hadn’t told her that yet) and he would do anything to protect her.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but the other four boys had been moving around a lot. Talking amongst themselves and scrolling through their own phones, mumbling about other celebrities who had been hit by the hack. But they never left the main section of the bus, instead they were supporting the couple and staying around them.

Their first show after the hack was terrifying for Matty. However when they went out, she had planned to perform just as well as she would even if this hadn't happened. But she felt herself tearing up when she saw the incredible fan support that was filling the atmosphere.

Niall had wrapped his arm around her shoulders, mumbling into her ear that he told her so with a soft giggle. But apparently there had been a fan project, and almost everyone held up a sign with ‘We Support Matty’.

Liam was already singing, and honestly, the show was one of her favourites. The crowd was certainly fully behind her, chanting her name whenever they were having a bit of downtime between singing. It was made even better when Harry had wrapped his arm around her shoulder from behind, pressing a kiss to her temple before he was singing to the crowd.

I know you’ve never loved the sound of your voice on tape You never want to know how much you- You still have to squeeze into your jeans But you’re perfect to me I won’t let these little things slip out of my mouth But if it’s true, it’s you, it’s you, they add up to I’m in love with you and all these little things

It took everything it had in her to not turn around and kiss him right there on stage, her head turning up to smile at him as he smiled back, pressing another kiss to her cheek. And then she was singing softly, her fingers entwined with his against her chest.

If I let you know, I’m here for you Maybe you’ll love yourself like I love you, oh And I’ve just let these little things slip out of my mouth Cause it’s you, oh, it’s you, it’s you, they add up to And I’m in love with you and all these little things

At the end of the show, Matty spent a bit of extra time waving and blowing kisses out to the fans before Harry and Niall were dragging her backstage, laughing at her. But the second they were hidden, she was hugging Harry as tight as humanly possible and tilting her head up to kiss his lips softly.

“I heard you,” she whispered softly, her head nodding as she stroked his cheeks.

“And I heard you,” he replied quietly, pressing a light kiss to the tip of her nose. “Love you, mouse,” he mumbled, before he was kissing her again. She mumbled her reply against his lips, the brightest smile on her face.

So, yeah. She got hacked, and that sucked and she hated it. But she got to hear three words from the guy she loved, and that made it a tiny, little bit better.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles x ofc #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x selena gomez #hs #hatty #eternity universe #one direction band member oc #one direction au #harry styles au

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orbleglorb · 7 months

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❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

HI. SORRY. started to answer this, had to close out, couldn't save a draft, and then forgot.

❄️ - From Reese Goes Home (also called Yunie and Reese. the title is a real work in progress.

At least five Spies were at Margaritoville. Six, if that trainee was on the team. It was a little past three in the afternoon, which meant Salad would be picking her kids up from school. It wasn't anywhere near a game day, which meant it was likely that HQ was empty. The chances were low, but never zero. Reese knew that the tunnels would be the safest bet, but instead of turning to get to the nearest entrance in the nearby park, they went straight towards the building and around to the side door (in broad daylight, with no cover besides their ever-changing appearance. The boldest move they had pulled in a while). It was marked as "employees only" (as if anyone else ever entered the building) and had a keypad. The previous Spies made sure to change the passcode bi-weekly, whenever it wasn't being used as a decoy. Reese looked forward to seeing whether or not the new Spies had done the same. When they noticed the charred concrete wall with a dent on the now unusable keypad, they knew they hadn't.

"What the hell," Reese muttered to themselves, pushing the (unlocked!) door open.

They still remembered the directions to the records room like the back of their hand. Right, walk to the end of the hall, left, left again, go through the second-to-last door in that hallway, press one of the stones in the wall, go down the flight of stairs, turn right, and to the next keypad…

"Oh, what the hell?" Reese said upon discovering the second charred hole in the wall where a keypad had once been.

The door to the records room creaked open, revealing Nanci Grackle inside. "Terribly annoying, innit? Been tryna fix it, but that sorry sod Abu-Zaid fucks up every device they touch."

He walked back in, waving Reese inside. "You can come and take whatever you want. Don't mind me. I've been using the place as a lab of sorts."

Upon walking in (despite the gnawing worry that this was a trap), Reese could see what he meant. He had taken over Blather's old desk and covered it with all sorts of dubious objects. Strange liquids sat in clear bottles, while seemingly random and strange items were strewn across the desk's wooden surface. Things like feathers, needles, gold coins, a few dolls, acorns, pocket watches, and a sandwich that Reese assumed was lunch. Nanci paid Reese no more attention and began tinkering. Reese decided not to bring up Mohammed's old lab, out of the selfish desire to keep things the way they were. The way there were supposed to be.

🌤️ - From grollis/qais fic i need to name

Unfortunately, Engine could not read Grollis's mind, and leaned on the table Grollis was using for hyr sewing project.

"We're meeting up with the Dale next week," Engine said.

"As you do most offseasons," Grollis replied, not looking up.

"They'll be visiting Tokyo."

"Yes, you all went to Miami last time."

"They're going to hang out at the Legscaper."

"Thanks for the heads up."

"I'm inviting you, Grollis!"

Grollis looked up with their eyebrows knit. Judging from Engine's exasperated look, asking why was not the appropriate response. Before ze could figure out what the right thing to say would be, Engine spoke again.

"If we didn't have games to play regularly, we'd never see you again. Seriously, you stopped hanging around before you were shadowed, and it just got worse after you got out this season. It'll do you some good to meet people. The Dale are nice. Outgoing."

"And overwhelming," Grollis added, barely able to hide the annoyance in hyr voice. "Which is why I've never bothered to attend these meet-ups before."

"They'll spread out. The Legscraper has more room than any other venue we've met up in thus far and they all tend to float around."

"So what you're saying is, they'll be inescapable?"

"If you go anywhere besides your room, yeah, probably. But, really, I think you'd like some of them. Or maybe just get along with them. Either way, it won't hurt. They're not as loud as you'd think they are."

"Fine," Grollis growled. "I'll be there."

"You won't hate it," Engine clapped hyr on the back. "And if you do, you can hit me with a shovel."

i might have shared these before but i forgot

#wip wednesday works #<- just to keep all wips in one place #blaseball (organizational)#asks 4 sasha #orble writing

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astuoro · 1 year

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hank and connor fic on here while I get my ao3 account up ❤️ ‼️

Connor had been working at the Detroit Police Department with Lt. Anderson for around a week when the Android revolution had taken place, in which he had deviated from his intended cause given by Cyberlife. He had left Hank to go help Markus and the rest of Jericho with their cause and help other androids who were getting accustomed to their newfound rights. Connor had been too busy to even call Hank up, apparently. Hank didn't want to admit to anyone, not even Sumo when he would talk to the dog in his drunken state, but he missed the damn android.

It had been about a month since then, and Hank hadn't seen Connor since.

Hank sat in his living room, a cold beer in his hand, drinking away whatever thoughts of worry he had about the android. He had begun to feel for someone again since the accident, and now he felt as if he had lost Connor too. He knows he had been stupid to think these things, but god did he truly miss him.

He had hated androids before, and had no respect for the plastic machines, but Connor had changed his mind. Connor had been different.

Something had always seemed different about the android, his insistent disobedience for what Hank had said whenever they went to investigate the odd crime scene. Maybe Connor had always been a deviant. That would explain why he could always pass as so human.

Rain from the nearing storm hit the windows as Hank finished his beer and sighed in exhaustion, too tired and drunk to go over to his bedroom from his position on the old couch. He closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking completely, shooing away the thoughts occupying his brain. As if sensing his stress, Sumo came bounding over to the couch where he was laying, licking the hand of Hank’s which was hanging lazily off the couch.

“Good dog Sumo, thanks buddy…”

Hank finally managed to get some form of sleep due to Sumo’s aid. The dog had been the only thing keeping him damn sane apart from his terrible drinking habit.

Hank’s ringtone was the thing to wake him up. He slumped up to grab the phone from his kitchen counter where he left it, almost tripping and falling in the process. A call from an unknown number, 05:10am. He picked the device up and swiped up to take the call, to tell the caller to fuck off and let him sleep. He’d hated the stupid spam calls numbers had been giving him.

“I don't know who you are but you ca-”

Choked up sobs came from the other side of the phone. Confusion overcame Hank until the person spoke, through tears.

“Hank?”

He would recognise that voice anywhere. It sobered his thoughts up just hearing his voice.

Connor’s voice.

“Connor. What's wrong? Why are you… crying?”

Hank didn't even know if androids could cry before now. “Where are you?”

A worried feeling overcame the man, Connor hadn’t talked to him in a month and now he had called him up sobbing over something Hank had no idea what was. None of that mattered to him, he just needed to make sure Connor was okay.

“Hank…” A sob followed his name. “Please come get me, please… I’m sorry…”

“Are you hurt? Connor, I’ll come and get you as soon as I can, where are you?” Worry filled his voice, he stumbled through his living room and grabbed his jacket and car keys, shoving his shoes on each foot quickly. A message came through to his phone, Connor had used his messaging input to send Hank his address. The place they had first met, 20 minutes away.

More cries came through the phone line.

“Please… Hurry…” and then the call had been disconnected.

Hank ran to his car as fast as he physically could, he knew he shouldn’t be drinking when intoxicated as he was, but this was an emergency. Even the question of his partner being in danger was something Hank couldn’t take. Hank was too attached to the man he’d thought was just a machine.

He drove as fast as he could to where Connor said he’d be, and parked up as soon as he’d seen the android, his LED glowing red, still sobbing. It was raining heavily, and he had been soaked through by the rain. Hank jumped out of his front seat, running to embrace the android.

“Oh god, it's okay. You’re okay. “ Hank held the boy into his chest as he cried, cradling the back of his head in his hands as he cried into his chest. He pulled off his jacket, knowing the android wouldn’t need it, but he just hoped to god it would bring him at least some comfort.

But as he pulled it onto Connor’s shoulders, he noticed the wound.

A cut down the androids chest, that was slowly bleeding out onto his shirt, staining it a glowing blue colour. Connor looked up into Hank’s eyes, knowing he’d seen it. A million thoughts were going through Hank’s brain, who the fuck had done this to him? Anger swelled in his chest, he couldn’t let whoever did this get away with hurting him.

“Con- Son, who did this to you?” He tried to keep his tone calm, his heart hurt from witnessing his boy being hurt.

Connor stayed silent, his arms still around Hank, hands holding onto the man.

“It’s going to be okay. Let’s get you home, son.”

Hank drove Connor back to his house, carrying the strangely lightweight android in. He set him down on the bed in his room and pulled his first aid kit out from which he had taken out of the car. He didn't know if helping bandaging Connor’s wound would help or not, but he was going to try at least for him.

He tried to make sure the android was comfortable, propping him up on soft pillows to make sure he didn't strain where his wound was. At this point, he had gotten Connor to at least message him the information of his attacker, some anti-android scumbag.

As Hank went to leave his room to go do whatever it was he could think of, Connor’s weak voice stopped him.

It was almost as quiet as a whisper.

“Please don’t leave me alone."

Hank couldn’t say no. The android needed him right now. He tossed his shoes somewhere and placed himself on the bed next to the man. Connor immediately wrapped his arms around him, holding him in a way that reminded him of the embrace Cole had given him when he left the house for his first day of school.

Hank held Connor close, both men made each other feel secure.

“Everything is going to be okay now, I’m here.”

Connor had never appreciated something more than Hank, and didn’t think he could even if given a chance. He buried his face in the man’s chest and let himself finally still. His LED returned to the calm blue it was usually.

They laid there for a while, Hank beginning to feel tired while Connor readied himself to enter stasis. Connor laid his head on the other man’s chest, Hank laying his right hand on his back. Connor held onto the moment as long as he could.

As Hank began to fall asleep, Connor gave him a tighter squeeze for reassurance.

“I’m here son.”

“Thank you.”

#hankcon???#found family #hurt/comfort #fluff #maybe some angst #fanfic #fanfiction #detroit connor #ive had too much hankcon brainrot #hank and connor #i love them #detroit become human #detroit become fluff #sumo is great #theyre family #theyre adorable

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