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flashthescalesian-art · 2 months

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Silence (a.k.a Jax has rejection sensitive dysphoria)

Jax has ADHD, and I also have ADHD, so of course I had to dump my RSD issues onto Jax too because traumatizing my OCs is how I cope when something is bothering me. I’m not gonna go into detail about my personal issues (I’m okay, just struggle-bussing it through life), but sometimes no matter what anyone says, RSD still manages to convince you that you did something wrong when someone stops talking to you. (Bob belongs to @thehannalyzer, btw, he’s not mine. (Also, I’m not trying to make any commander mentioned out to be a “bad guy” or “mean”, just so we’re clear on that. This is from Jax’s RSD-clouded POV, I’m not bashing anyone else mentioned))

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“Something’s bugging you,” Blazer said in lieu of a greeting when he walked into Jax’s office and leaned on the desk with both arms, one hand supporting his chin as he stared at Jax.

Jax avoided eye contact and tried to pretend he was busy working. Go away.

“Hey, genius, you and I both know you hate paperwork, so there’s no way you’re so focused that you didn’t hear me.” Blazer grabbed Jax’s datapad and pulled it out of his hands before setting it facedown just out of Jax’s reach. “You gonna talk to me or do I need to make you talk?”

Jax glared up at Blazer. He looked genuinely worried, if annoyed, and Jax instantly felt guilty. What am I doing? Why am I pushing him away when he’s not even someone I’m mad at? Sighing, Jax rubbed a hand down his face, trying to stay composed enough to explain what was going on in his head. “The others are barely speaking to me. Or, it feels that way, anyway.” He shrugged. “I dunno if I’m just overreacting or if they’re actually ignoring me.”

Blazer frowned sympathetically as he absently rubbed the scar on his chin with one finger. “Okay. Are they just busy? It’s not like things have been quiet for anyone lately.”

Jax shrugged again, a lump forming in his throat. Force-dammit. Can’t talk about osik without crying. No wonder the others see me as a baby still. “I don’t know. A couple of them said they’re busy, but others… I haven’t heard from a few of them in weeks.” His eyes stung, so he scrubbed at them with one hand. He felt Blazer’s hand rest on top of the hand that still held his stylus for his datapad.

“Who haven’t you heard from?” Blazer’s voice was gentle, so gentle.

Jax couldn’t look at him. “F-Fox. And Bob. And— and Bacara and Neyo.”

“Well, you told me that Thorn’s been worried about Fox too, so I doubt he’s ignoring only you if his twin is worried about him. Plus you mentioned that Thire sounded worried.”

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?” Jax asked bitterly.

Blazer gave a soft sigh. “Yes and no. It’s not a good thing that Fox seems to be ignoring Thorn and Thire too, but it does mean that it’s probably nothing to do with you, if that’s what you’re upset about.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” Jax mumbled, still barely holding himself together. “Even if Fox isn’t mad at me, that doesn’t explain everyone else.”

Blazer squeezed Jax’s hand. “It is possible that Bob is avoiding talking to you since that fight you two had. It might be good if you don’t talk to him for a while anyway.”

Jax instantly felt guilt wash over him like a wave, so he buried his face in his arms on the desk, pulling away from Blazer. “I don’t wanna talk about that. He hates me, and I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Sure, Bob had sent multiple apologies after the fight, but that was nearly a month ago at this point. Jax hadn’t really responded since he wasn’t sure he believed Bob, and after a month of silence, it felt even harder to believe that Bob didn’t hate him.

“So what if he hates you?” Blazer’s voice took on a fierce tone that seemed to color his words any time Jax mentioned that he thought Bob— or any of his brothers, really —hated him. “You don’t need his approval or attention. Same goes for Neyo and Bacara. If they don’t wanna talk to you, that’s their issue, not yours. You didn’t do anything to them.”

Jax simply wanted to melt into the floor. He knew Blazer meant well, and some angry part of him agreed with Blazer, but he couldn’t shake the little cadet voice wondering why his older brothers didn’t seem to want to talk to him, or why he always felt like they looked down on him. Just the thought of never speaking to any of his older brothers again made that little voice cry out in agony. “But I don’t want to lose contact with them,” Jax whimpered into his arms.

“If they’re not gonna put in the effort, why should you?” Blazer asked, his raspy voice nearly a growl now.

Jax felt tears escape, so he pressed his face harder into his arms. “Because I love them,” he whimpered, feeling pathetic.

He heard the soft thunk of Blazer’s vambraces on the desk, then footsteps that stopped at his side. A hand rested on his shoulder. “You don’t owe them anything. If they don’t want to talk to you, that’s their choice. Don’t let them drag you down. If they don’t think you’re worth the effort, then it’s not a relationship worth stressing over.” Blazer’s voice was much softer now.

Jax tried to take a breath, but it came out as more of a sob. “But what did I do wrong?” It didn’t make sense that his older brothers would just stop talking to him, so he had to have done something to make them want to stop talking to him. Right?

Blazer grabbed Jax with both hands and carefully guided him out of his chair and onto the floor before pulling him into a tight hug. Jax didn’t have the energy to resist, so he simply buried his face in Blazer’s shoulder. “If you can’t think of anything you did wrong, you probably didn’t do anything wrong. Sometimes it’s not your fault when people don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

“It still feels like it’s my fault,” Jax choked out, clinging to Blazer.

Blazer simply held him tighter. “I know. I’m sorry.”

Jax could only cry harder.

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shadow0-1 · 6 months

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you got me undone

#call of duty #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #MWII #CoD MWII #blender renders #Phillip Graves #Philip Graves #Shadow Company #CoD OC #OC: Jax #Jackie Ramirez #Ship: High Places #uhHH #jax can and will tease Graves any chance he gets by calling him commander or sir #TV operative gonna have a fun time with their boss and his bf constantly sucking and fucking on their station

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zexainias-doodles · 6 months

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Ta-da!

Guys. I'm not exaggerating when I say I sketched this in 20 minutes 😂 so I wanted to do the simple line art at least. You'll get the fancy line art later, I have to go to bed. The fangirl in me is strong.

Colored version here!

#jax #gooseworx #tadc jax #jax fanart #the amazing digital circus jax #the amazing digital circus #tadc fanart #TADC #Goose your wish is my command #Man I really need better posture while I'm drawing #Jax tux #Jax in a tuxedo

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sometinysludge · 4 months

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he has me in a death grip, send help.

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thecoffeelorian · 8 days

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The Force-ening || S3 One-Shot

Brief Description: What if...Omega and the other Tantiss kids used the Force to call for help? Word Count: Less than 1k AO3:

Characters Included: Crosshair, Eva, Hunter, Omega, Commander Cody, Commander Wolffe, and others. Spoilers: Up to 3x11, because I am NEVER being nice to Rampart. Special Thanks: Inspired by Fireflye over on Twitter, though I also drew on some inspiration from a few Stephen King novels with just a smattering of Dune inspiration to wash it down. No Pressure Tags: @theosb0rnway @gun-roswell @nimata-beroya @skellymom @talesfrommedinastation @groguandthebadbatch and anyone else who likes spur-of-the-moment tales!

He had never expected to find himself so powerless in this moment, this former sniper.

Normally, the prime vantage point during a battle would have been his, as well as the glory of taking out the most dangerous of battle droids or rival gun turrets so that the fighting would ultimately shift in the Republic’s favor. One small but terribly important job to do, and with very little physical effort needed to complete it.

Thanks to the cold-blooded machinations of the Empire, however…he found himself staring blankly at the galactic maps and terrains before him, a sour feeling growing in the pit of his stomach while the two Commanders, Wolffe and Cody, tossed their limited intel between them like two natborn toddlers trying to catch the other’s ball. An extremely difficult mental exercise this time, though unfortunately, one with very little chance of the results they were looking for, as their missing link continued to be just that.

Missing.

That must have been exactly how this new enemy saw them now, truth be told. Just a bunch of overgrown toddlers, fully armed to the teeth, fully ready to organize any reinforcements they needed and fully prepared to fight…but with absolutely no clue as to where they needed to point their weapons.

How that kriffing Hemlock must be laughing at them all.

How quickly must he be declaring his early victory against them.

And, if the rising voices and shortening tempers were anything to go on…how easily he could have to just wait for them to start fighting each other.

Crosshair remembered letting out a loud sigh of frustration before pulling himself out of his seat, no longer able to look any of these XO’s in the face without being reminded of just how easy it had been to let this new enemy lull him into total obedience. Like if he just punished the right amount of “criminals”, the less likely this Imperial beast would think to feast upon his newly fallen corpse and actually try thinking of him as a friend instead...or whatever he was supposed to call the pale, sickly natborns who were given much more power than he could ever hope to have.

Well…not only did he have a grand total of zero friends back there, but Cross wasn’t exactly sure he had any support over here, either. Not when the comms that Omega should have had never turned on, the trackers he’d attempted to put in place were either removed or failed to hit their target, and any telltale chatter over the various media feeds continued to be slim to nothing. In fact, if he really wanted to hit the peak of pessimism, he could go off on a tangent and say that the universe itself had finally turned against him, because it sure as hell wasn’t gonna grant him or anyone else in this room any more favors. All he could really do, at least in the here and now, was go someplace quieter to clear his head and try meditating just as Omega had taught him back on the beach.

At least…that had been his thought until the strange smells came.

First, there was the sharp tang of antiseptic, the sterile smell of some medical facility, and then…meiloorun juice—?!

—CROSSHAIR HELP US—

—I THINK WE—

—CROSSHAIR PLEASE DON’T LET THEM—

—HELP US WE HAVE THE COORDINATES, IT’S—

—MAMMAAA—

—…Then…the next thing he knew, he had been propped up against an old artillery shell with half the higher-ups kneeling around him, his head spinning just a little as he gradually regained consciousness. Somebody had been using the Force to contact him. No...she had been using it to contact him for help. And if he had his head on straight these days, which hopefully, he did...he would be sure to answer.

“…you all right? Can you see me?!”

Hunter’s face slowly swam into view as the sense of something pressing against his head—sore, ha ha, why wouldn’t it be—finally became clear to him. A sense that came with the phantom feeling of several pairs of smaller hands patting nervously, or rather comfortingly, against his larger injured one.

Almost like…like they were letting him know not to be afraid, to stand up and get back into the thick of things because oh dear, they would certainly have to do the exact same thing if they wanted to live…and that was right before the strongest of these little sparks of life made itself known.

Before one more, somewhat bigger presence touched the edge of its forehead against his own at that moment, the touch of warmth rising there as though to counteract all of the colder shocks he had ever dealt with.

Before he not only sensed, but also knew, and then understood the message that this presence wished to deliver.

“I know where they’ve got her,” he panted, finding Hunter’s gaze and focusing on it to ground himself, if not also to make sure none of these other Troopers would start falling into anarchy.

“I know where they’ve got everyone. It’s Weyland.”

#the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb spoilers #tbb crosshair #tbb omega #tbb crosshair and omega #tbb hunter #commander cody #commander wolffe #tbb eva #tbb jax #tbb bayrn #the mountain goes or i do

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kekeartzworld · 5 months

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Jax as CJ

Dear god, this is a fucking death wish

Someone save me TwT

#the amazing digital circus #on command #on command cj #starlight mayhem #starlight mayhem cj #tadc #tadc fanart #tadc jax #traditional art #traditional drawing #traditional illustration #save me #kekeartz

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superpaperclip · 10 months

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The woman I’m pet sitting for: yeah the dog isn’t very well trained, he loves to jump on you, I know you’re sweet but you have to be really firm with him and tell him to get down

Me, who’s had dogs all my life, watching her and her husband use at least 5 different commands to try to get him down while she holds his paws every other time he jumps: mhm

#he jumped on me maybe three times before he learned he’s not allowed #meanwhile he kept jumping on her and my mom the whole time #the dog is super smart they’re just not reinforcing anything #‘down’ ‘get down’ ‘no’ ‘stop’ and ‘Jax!’ are not the same command #they just stand there and let the dog jump instead of moving away #and half the time she grabs his paws and holds him up while speaking to him in a baby voice #girl he does not understand you he just knows he’s getting attention which is what he wants #which just encourages him to jump the next time he wants attention #they leave on Saturday and are gone for the rest of the month #I swear I’m gonna have this dog trained by the time I get back

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companionwolf · 11 months

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pride month drabble challenge fill #1

prompts: 15. Transmasc + 9. Moonlight + 7. "Do you ever get afraid?" (prompts)

fandom: XCOM 2 (gen verse)

TWs/CWs: none

---

They're standing on the flight deck with Central, the cold moonlight turning them both silver black blue. Beside them, their XO stares out over the railing toward the distant glittering night shine of a city center.

His breath fogs in the air, and the Commander wishes they had those stupid sweaters still. They itched but they were warm, and the wind that rushes over the deck is frigid enough that they'd be willing to wear the damn thing again.

The Commander studies Central's face. He looks like they've always wished, no longer the clean and proper young man he was, more rugged and just--

Their stomach twists.

Masculine. Almost stereotypically so. He has it so effortlessly. They never will-- they don't know the state of gender affirming health care now and frankly? They'd rather not; it'd make them cry more than everything already does.

But they look at Central and they're envious. They look at him and they want to wear his skin. They look at him and mourn what they can't be.

Their capture did nothing to help. They guess it's nice that they didn't age, but... that's time they've lost. They'll never get it back. Time they could have--

Could have what? No time for transitioning when the world's on fire, they think bitterly.

Central looks over at them.

"You're looking awfully pensive," he says. "Something eating you, Commander?"

"Do you ever get afraid?" they ask.

Their central officer's mouth drops a bit in a frown. "Not sure I'm following," he says. "Of the aliens? The war? The Chosen? What's next? You're gonna need to be--"

"Of -- of not getting --"

Their voice trails off. What does their dysphoria matter, in this time? So meaningless admist the horrors. They shove their hands in their pockets and look at their feet.

Central's eyes are on them. "Ohhh," he says as they try not to meet his gaze. "Ohh, you think you don't deserve to talk about whatever it is, I see."

He scoffs. "Well, I think you do," he says, looking back out at the city center. "Even if it seems small to you, it still means something. You should get to talk about it."

"Thanks, Central," they say.

"So what is it?"

They take a long breath of the crisp cold air, feel it burn in their chest. "I'm not who I'm supposed to be," they say, hesitantly. "And I probably won't ever get to be."

Central's looking at them again.

Their stomach churns under his soft gaze. "Stop," they say. "Stop, you're pitying me."

"I am not," he retorts. "I still don't even really get it but maybe I don't have to. This is a trans thing, right?"

They nod.

"I won't ever know what that's like," Central continues. "I won't claim that I would or will, but..." He pauses. "I don't know, if I can help somehow, I'd like to."

The Commander shifts weight from foot to foot, is still avoiding eye contact. "I don't know what you could even do," they say. "I mean, besides what you do already, with pronouns and..."

"Yeah, but that's just being a decent human," Central says.

"Maybe that's all I can really ask, all you can really do," the Commander says. "Not like you can just manifest a surgeon or HRT or whatever."

"If I could I would," he says. "I could... someone has to be helping folks in the resistance transition. I'll look around."

The Commander smiles a little, shuffles a little closer to Central.

"You're right," they say. "There has to be somebody, something." They hesitate. "I just...sometimes I feel like I'm alone, and that it'll never happen, and that I have to settle. That's what I mean."

"You shouldn't ever have to settle," Central says. "Not on something like this-- when it's about yourself and your life and..." He struggles a second. "You should get to be happy."

The Commander wants to reach for his hand. They don't. Instead they say, "You should too."

He looks away, back toward the cityscape and its neon lights. "I've got mine," he says. "Your turn now, Commander."

The Commander closes the distance between them, leans on him. "What if we both got ours? Got to be happy?" they say. "What about that, Central?"

Central stiffens under their weight, and then relaxes a bit. "I'd like that," he says, his voice quiet, slow. The Commander can feel his body rising and falling with each breath under their ear.

"Me too," they say. "Me too."

#wolf barking #tailstrokes #hello commander #pride month drabble challenge #hey you can add readmore on mobile wo doing the :readmore: thing now?????#anyway * strikes a pose * have this #also sorry jax all i have to offer is x2 brainrot so thats what youre getting #i added the dialouge prompt from my own list bc i needed. more inspo ^^;#and i do these challenges very haphazardly (ie i roll 3d10 on each prompt list and do that instead of day by day) so i hope thats alright.#everyone: can we see something else other than c/c shipping / me: sorry brainrot!#'ITS BEEN 6 YEARS WOLF' IM IN HELL!

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etherealvoidechoes · 2 years

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“To think I(we) once feared you. To think we(I) once hated you. WE wanted to eviscerate you for what you’ve done to us. And now... now... we feel nothing. You’re just a scared, pathetic... child. A broken child, misshapen by the Elders. We pity you.”

#wip #ah my thoughts be running #also colors for merged!commander #Jynn and Asaru are just in fully disappointment and pity mode after all the rage has passed #Also trying not to smack Jax-Rai who would be trying to stop them from killing Dhay-Vol #//Un’vo no’vala toa ma #artwork #character interaction #xcom #xcom 2 #art #my art #jaart #art of Jane Audron

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azsazz · 4 months

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A Snowy Starfall

Daddy!Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: Batbabies waging their OWN snowball fight imitating their dad & uncles. Some take it too seriously, others don't take it seriously at all, it's pure chaos that ends in cocoa.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2,003

Notes: Happy Holidays my loves 💙

_________________________________________

“Come on, you three,” you tut towards your mate and his friends. They’re standing before the large glass windows overlooking your backyard. The sun casts deep oranges and reds across the snow-ridden land, your children shrieking as they play in the snow. A valiant snowball fight is running its course, and Azriel, Cassian, and Rhysand stand, faces pressed to the windows as they watch, quietly cheering their children on. “They’re going to notice you staring.”

“Maybe they already have,” Feyre adds from her spot at your kitchen counter. She’s concentrating intently on decorating a cookie, adding swirls of black icing to the gingerbread woman’s hand, creeping up her extended arm. The cookie’s dress is provocative, bare dough legs showing between slats of laced icing. She hardly glances up as she continues, “They’re probably imitating them as we speak.”

Curious, you peek out the window, too. Indeed, Wren and Baz have built a fortress in the snow to protect themselves from the onslaught of snowballs being thrown their way. Gideon and Nyx have joined forces against the two brothers, the latter packing the fluffy snow into tight, white balls, while Gideon launches their ammo towards your sons.

Your eldest daughter, Zuzu, and Nyx’s younger sister, Asteria, had joined the competition early on. They’d been a formidable team too, but grew bored of their brothers and cousin who were taking the snowball fight a little too seriously. Now, they are in the snow with little Castor, who had cried until she’d been let outside by her protective father, bundled up in so many clothes her wings nearly disappeared into the fabric. The girls are making snow angels, though Castor’s looks very much like a circle on the lawn.

Dark streaks dart behind the wall your sons have built and you frown, watching as Baz’s shadows help roll clumps of snow closer, creating perfectly circular snowballs. From what you’d heard from your husband’s friends, using shadows was against any and all snowball fight rules.

You cut Azriel a glance but he’s conveniently occupied, watching the game outside.

“Well, at least they’re both on the same team,” you comment to your mate, who refuses to let his gaze stray from the little boys. Good, he can watch them while he does the dishes then, since there’s a window above the sink. You pat him on the ass, nodding towards the mess of dishes in the sink. He nods in response, loping quickly over to peer out the window again. “So they’ll either both lose or both win.”

“They’ll both win,” Az responds immediately, a quick but pointed look your way. “They do take after me.”

Cassian scoffs behind you and you turn to see a scowling Nesta shooting him a look as he tries to steal a cookie. Jax giggles in her lap at his uncle's antics, but when Cassian hands him part of the cookie and its head falls off, Jax’s smile wobbles. He’s not outside due to the nature of his powers. As an empath, sensing the competitive nature of his siblings and the sting of a snowball to the face, it had been in his best interest to be inside around the luscious scents of cookies and warmth, instead of out in the bitter snow.

Nesta coos, bouncing him, and Cassian is thankful for the distraction, slipping further down the counter to where the High Lord sits, trying—and failing—to gain his mate's attention. The commander slips an arm around Rhys’ shoulders and glares at the back of Azriel’s head, continuing his complaining. “The only reason you’ve won so many is because of those damn shadows, Az.”

Azriel throws over his shoulder, wincing as Baz takes a snowball to the face, his face going red with fury. “How was I supposed to know they were unaffected by the magic restrictions?” he claims, sending said shadows out into the yard once he sees Baz’s slipping through the snow, headed for the icicles hanging off the railings of the porch. His intercept his sons in a display of authority, spearing them into blackened mist. Baz glances up to the window, locking eyes with his father, who wears a look of warning on his face, brow raised. Azriel watches his son visibly huff and take his anger out on the snow, building a ball and launching it across the playing field in frustration.

His gaze cuts across the yard, narrowing his eyes. Gideon and Nyx are crouched low behind their own pile of snow, looking like they’re scheming. He wants to trail his shadows in their direction, listen in on their conversation, but he’s alerted to Malos’ whines from the other room. If one of his youngest is awake, they either both are, or will be soon.

“Malos is up,” Az tells you softly, shutting off the water to the sink. He wipes his hands on a towel and kisses you gently on the cheek. You’re mixing color into icing for the cookies, getting ready for when it’s too dark out for the children to play. They’ll get all cleaned up and have some hot chocolate to warm their bellies, and you, Feyre, and Nesta have baked cookies for all of the children to decorate. “I’ll get them.”

“I’ll join,” Cassian answers, stealing another cookie off of a platter. He dunks it into your icing to the neck, the cookie dripping with sugary goodness as he lifts it to his mouth, shoving it inside. He ducks under your glare. “Gotta go get my baby.”

Cassian and Nesta’s youngest daughter, Sif, had been put down for a nap with both Knox and Malos. She’s still a little too young to be outside without supervision, and the eldest children of the Inner Circle demanded time outside without their parents, probably because they knew their fathers would try and take over their snowball fight had they been outside. They didn’t want any tips or tricks, not even your children, even with Azriel’s hundred of wins beneath his belt.

Jax climbs from Nesta’s lap over Rhys who lets out a harsh exhale when his knee lands a little too close to his private area, and then over to Feyre, who finally sets her cookie down to scoop your middle son in her arms.

“Pretty,” Jax comments, pointing at her decorative cookie. It looks just like her, and there’s one next to it that looks a little like Rhysand. Purple dots for eyes stare up at him. “Uncle Rhysie?”

“Good job, Jax,” Feyre coos, pressing kisses to his cheeks. They pink with a blush and he settles into her arms, looking utterly at bliss. He revels in the warmth of her emotions, the pride surging through her. It feels like warm bubbles in his chest, and he noses at her collar.

“Look who’s ready to party,” Azriel announces, entering the room, arms full with your two youngest children, Malos and Knox. Knox still looks a little sleepy, head resting against Azriel’s shoulder, cuddling into his warmth. His tiny wings are droopy with sleep, and his twin sister, Malos, is already reaching for the cookies.

Nesta is quick to scoop her away from Azriel. She claims not to have a favorite niece, but Malos and her have an understanding. You see more of Nesta in Malos’ personality than any of the children of the Inner Circle, and you’re extremely happy that they have such a close connection.

“Hi baby,” you greet Knox, who is signing mommy to you. You ease him out of Azriel’s arms, who promptly returns to his position in front of the window, pressing exaggerated kisses to his chubby cheeks. It makes him smile wide, flaring those wings that he hasn’t quite figured out how to control. “Are you ready for some yummy cookies?”

His dark eyes light with excitement. Of course your children are ready for sweets, they always are. They picked that up from Azriel, who has the biggest sweet tooth you’ve ever seen.

Cassian reenters the room with his daughter in his arms and Rhys pouts. Almost everyone in the room is preoccupied with a child in their arms, except for him. Maybe he can convince Feyre to have one more. The youngest children in the family are two now and he misses having a tiny babe around.

By the heated look in her eyes, his mate seems to be considering the same, sneaking past those shadowy walls in his mind to catch a glimpse of his thoughts. The High Lord smirks. He sends her over some imagery to go with his thoughts, and her cheeks go red. That hot look turns into one of warning, and she’s speaking out loud now, “Why don’t you call the children inside so they can get warmed up and decorate some cookies?”

“Of course, darling,” Rhys sweeps from his seat in a wisp of darkness.

Breaking a cookie in half, you give part of it to Knox, who signs thank you, munching on the sweet. The other half is passed to Malos as you head towards where your mate is finishing up the dishes, leaning against him for a moment, reveling in all of your family happily together.

“I love you,” Azriel murmurs into your hair, leaning over to sneak a bite of Knox’s cookie. Your son stares up at his father with wide eyes, and like this, he looks just like Az. It makes your heart warm, and Jax squeals in happiness in response, your happiness radiating to him. It makes your grin wider, peeking over your shoulder to see him so content in his aunt's arms.

“I love you too, Az,” you whisper back to him, resting your forehead against his.

It’s a nice moment, until the children from outside are wrangled through the door by Rhys. The boys are arguing about who has won their snowball fight, while the girls are peeling away their winter gear, excited to decorate cookies with icing and sprinkles and the edible petals Elain had given you before her trip to the Summer Court with Lucien.

“Now, now, boys,” Rhys starts, but the diplomatic tone he’s using does nothing to deter the cousins from arguing. “I’m sure we can come to a consensus without yelling and acquiescing.”

“But Baz used his shadows,” Nyx complains, wringing his gloves between his hands in frustration. “We all saw it.”

“Nyxie, don’t be mean to Baz,” Wren counters, brows furrowed. He doesn’t like it when his family argues, especially over trivial things. His heart is so kind. “You can win the snowball fight if you want, but Baz and I are gonna win the cookie decorating contest, right Bazzy?”

“No,” Baz says flatly, dropping his gear onto the floor. You give him a look but he almost seems un-bothered by it, done with the debate his cousins are currently having. “We won the snowball fight and we’re going to win the cookie decorating contest.”

You share a look with your mate, watching the scene unfold. Baz is quite the Stubborn Suriel, no matter what it comes to.

“Dad,” Nyx groans, “Can’t you do something?”

Cassian is the one who comes to the rescue, Castor reaching up at him for her sister. He helps the little one down and the older one with her undressing, peeling her thermals off layer by layer. “It’s not about who won, right boys? It’s about spending time and having fun with the ones you love.”

Feyre, Nesta, and yourself awe at his words, but Azriel and Rhysand are rolling their eyes and muttering under their breath at Cassian’s cheesy words.

“What a kiss ass.”

“Smug fucker.”

“Azriel,” you hiss, turning your body away from him, like that will hide Knox from his vulgar words. “Language.”

He winces, “Sorry love.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes now, bouncing Knox in your arms a little as you turn fully from your mate. You poke Knox’s belly playfully before addressing the rest of the room. “How about those cookies, then? They won’t decorate themselves!”

#daddy!az #daddy!azriel #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel fluff #azriel/reader

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flashthescalesian-art · 12 days

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About the OC development questions—1, 15, and 34, any OC(s) you want to talk about :3

I’m gonna do a few different OCs!

1- the disaster icon himself, the 342nd’s Commander Jax is the most restless sleeper ever. He frequently falls out of bed and just keeps sleeping after he hits the floor. The only way to keep him in bed is to have one of his brothers sleep with him, so Blazer usually crashes in Jax’s quarters with him.

15- Nebula, the Jedi general of the 342nd. A symbol that would fit him, as cliche as it might be, would probably be a yin-yang symbol because while he is a Jedi, he battles his dark side more frequently than many of his Jedi peers.

34- Volt, the 212th’s spitfire medic. All anyone would have to do to blackmail him is threaten one of his batchmates. Poor dude is so traumatized by losing one batchmate that the idea of losing another is terrifying, and he’d just cave and do whatever he was being blackmailed to do.

#ask game #star wars #the clone wars #star wars oc #clone trooper oc #clone trooper #Commander Jax #General Nebula #342nd battalion #Captain Volt #Volt the medic #212th battalion #212th attack battalion

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shadow0-1 · 1 year

Text

Putting his mouth to better use, part 3

#call of duty #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #mwii #blender renders #phillip graves #oc: jax #ship: high places #jackie ramirez #uhhhhgghsd spring time horn knees LKSMGNKF #don’t look at me look away #something something mouthing off to your commander #i need to EAT THEMMM #CoD OC

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ask-the-rag-dolly · 5 months

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Hey guys, could we switch back to Jax’s pov for a moment? With him still glitched out and all there’s something I wanna try. :/

EXECUTE COMMAND

>enable manual_control(entity_jax)

>shift(jax_rightarm, forward, 0.3 units)

>play animation_peacesign(jax_rightarm)

>disable manual_control(entity_jax)

Ok, that’s all! We can return to rags and pomni now. ^^

-(artificial anon)

#the amazing digital circus #tadc #caine #tadc caine #tadc jax #[ asks ]

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d6volution · 5 months

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tehehe, okay!! so. Jax x girly fem reader smut!! Reader is almost like a pillow princess, also. Breeding kink with Jax 🤭

your wish is my command 🙇🏾‍♀️

minors dni !

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

"All this just for me? Oh, you shouldn't have." Jax coos in a mocking yet seductive tone. Knowing full well he helped— no, instructed you to assume this position. One of your favorites, all you had to was there lay while Jax took care of you.

For a moment, he examined your face, "Ya really need all that makeup doll? You know it's gonna be gone by the time I'm through with ya, right?"

"Wanted to look pretty for you.." You huffed your voice, getting small, and he chuckled at your pouting face.

"You always look pretty doll.. so damn pretty." He said, admiring your nude body.

You were laid out on your back, a pink pillow neatly tucked under you, just above your tail bone. It was comfortable, but.. also embarrassing. Jax's hand held one of your thighs against your stomach, exposing your glistening folds to him. Your face was hot, and his grin only grew. Radiating that smug energy, "I've hardly done anything and you're already dripping, you could have a little shame y'know." He teased and rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds.

His veiny shaft brushed against your clit , causing you to squirm but his fingers only dug into your thigh. A warning to keep still.

His free hand removed itself from the base of his cock and dipped into your cunt instead. He opened his mouth, something he rarely does— to lick his fingers.. all while keeping eye contact. "You're even sweeter than you look, ya know that..?"

"Jaaaxx...." A pathetic whine escaped your lips, you desperately wanted to hide away in the moutain of colorful blankets that surrounded you, but Jax wasn't going to have that, and you knew it.

"Whaaat I can't admire how you taste? Or are ya just too desperate to wait .. ? That it, dollface? You know, I could do this all day." He laughed, hand returning to his cock. Rubbing it up against your swollen lower lips.

"No, n-no... need you inside Jax, please.." Your needy voice was his weakness. Desperate and dripping with lust.

"Oh, I know." Was all he said before his other hand grabbed your thigh and pushed it up against your chest , mirroring the other. Your ankles were nearly touching your ears at this point, "Mn. Perfect," He said under his breath before plunging into your cunt. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets beneath your fingertips.

You cursed, and his name escaped your lips in a dissary, mixed with moans and pleas.

"Sh, shh .. I know babe." He hushed you, his body flush against your own as he rutted into your cunt, tip nudging at your most sensitive and deepest spot. "Ya feel that? Gonna make sure I'm this deep when I cum so I can get ya knocked up. How's that sound..?" After all, then you can't deny who you belong to when your stomachs swelling with his kits.

"W.. Wha—" His words rang in your ears but he didn't give you time to think. No, this wasn't the time to use your brain, just to be a good little pocket pussy for him.

"Don't .. worry that pretty little head of yours," He grunted, his hips moving like a jack hammer. Just the thought of getting you knocked up was making him throb inside of you. "I'll take care of you.."

He was panting, the grip he had on your thighs was leaving impressions in your skin.

"Ja.. aah.... s-slow down—" You whined as he fucked you into the mattress, due to the position he was constantly battering right against your womb. "No can do, you can take it babe. J-Just keep still for me.. gonna cum soon.. your f@ckin' milking me sweetheart.." His stuttered out. Ignoring any fruther pleas from you because your body was telling him everything he needed to know.

Everytime he tried to pull out you sucked him back, your cunt was made for him. Only for him. Perfect for breeding, for carrying his seed.~

He added more weight to his thrusts, knees digging into the mattress as he tried to keep his balance. "Gonna take my cum, doll? Don't waste a drop.. even if you do I'll f@ck it right back into you." And that was a promise.

His hips stuttered and he made sure his tip was digging right against your cervix before finally letting go, "Aah.. there.. right there, get pregnant baby, take my cum." He said, his mouth hovering right back your ear. All his words going straight to your cunt which vicely gripped his dick. Happily taking his cum even when it started to spill past your cunt.

"Nah.. what'd I say babe? Gonna waste my cum like that..?" At this point he was being mean, slowly thrusting his hips and making even more spill out. You babbled out apologies , your cunt so numb that you didn't even notice the orgasm washing over your body.. you were tingling all over.

"S.. Sorry, Jax.. couldn't help it..." You said, but he didn't move. Still buried inside of you.

"Mhmn... don't sweat it, babe, we've got all night.." His eyes were a little.... crazed, focus on the pool of cum in between your legs rather than your eyes.

You were certainly going to be here for a while.

#the amazing digital circus #ask #jax tadc #minors dni #jax x reader #jax smut

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partycatty · 2 months

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so i made a post about revenant johnny and i’m totally aware you saw it so what about a smut fic with revenant johnny??

i’m not entirely sure how we’d get to that part and i’d like to think we aren’t a revenant. im not entirely sure what the plot would be but i really just need to get my back blown out by revenant johnny

love ya 💙💙

EAYRBAUHRJAJFLAMTLMSMF

revenant!older!johnny cage > join me

revenant johnny meets you after his turning. the carnal desire never vanished.

warnings: kinda angsty, not explicitly consented to, you get SLAMMED TO POUND TOWN AND BACK. NETHERREALM AND BACK. OUTWORLD AND B— oh also lore adjustment to mk9 and mk11 :3

[ masterlist ]

you didn't think recent events could get any weirder, truly. just five years prior you lost the love of your life to a corrupted sindel, and with the knowledge that his cursed corpse sauntered beside a sorcerer such as quan chi, you honestly felt like coming face to face with a younger version of yourself was the most normal thing to occur. your job as a leader of the special forces was to capture and eliminate all threats to earthrealm, including but not limited to your former husband.

now under the command of a previous timeline's raiden among others, you had built enough of an army to counterattack what you lovingly called the zombified versions of your once-friends, liu kang and kitana. kronika was a force beyond your understanding but you knew that losing all you'd come to build would be a loss greater than... well, no. it was everything you'd lose.

at the bow of kharon's ship, you stood with a loaded rifle alongside a band of people you'd grown to admire; jax, jacqui, cassie, raiden, liu kang, kitana, kung lao, fujin, nightwolf, and of course a younger version of johnny. he nudges your side, aiming his own rifle at the sky with a hand on his hip.

"i hope we don't die out there, i'd love to tap that someday," he coos into your direction, perhaps louder than intended and earning horrified looks from everyone - including your fatherless daughter. you stomp on johnny's foot. perhaps you would have fallen for his charms in the past, but dear god was he more punchable than ever in that moment. even still, you miss his quips and jabs. what you wouldn't give to see the color return to his cracked, hellish skin.

"it is an honor to fight alongside most of you," you call out, facing forward as your subtle dig at younger johnny makes him frown. "raiden says it better. may the elder gods protect us."

it's not long before the large boat scrapes against the shore of the island, and your entire army charges into battle. guns, swords, and fangs spill so much blood, you could smell more iron than when you were riding down the crimson sea. your thoughts are cut short when a path opens, and you shoot a glance to your comrades.

"i see an opening!" you shout, pointing. "i'm going in!" a chorus of encouragements and cheers fill your ears atop the war cries, and the one that stands out most is cassie. your daughter's voice raises, slipping into grief mid-battle.

"if you find dad," she cries, praying to the gods that she won't lose both parents. "tell him i love him!" the knowledge that this battle will end in only one of you making it out alive terrifies her beyond belief but she does all she can to keep a strong face and salute you as you disappear in the crowd. cassie knows that a revenant version of johnny wouldn't fully understand, wouldn't fully accept her love, but she couldn't die or have him die without expressing it one last time.

you weave, shoot and slash through the crowd and end up in a castle-like structure. perhaps if you were to rise to the top you could use the position as surveillance or sniping. you could possibly even find a weak point. the building is just distant enough for the war to hardly reach the inside. your breathing and the sound of boots hitting stone are all you could focus on as you turn a corner.

blood rushes to your ears and you could feel your vision become glassy at the sight of the figure at the end of the hallway. even after all this time, you knew that shape. johnny stood in the dead center of the long hall, arms crossed and waiting like he predicted your arrival. maybe he did.

"no, nonono," you pant, leaning against the wall as your brows furrow. "not you. not now." the grief you thought you conquered washes over you.

"well i'll be damned," johnny smirks, pulling his sunglasses from his face and tucking them into his shirt. "long time no see, sugar." he takes long strides to you and your legs feel embarrassingly weak when you slide to the ground, gun clattering to the stone surface alongside you.

"anyone but you—" you're muttering under your breath, trying to ground your spiraling thoughts. "please."

johnny's in front of you now, kneeling down to meet your gaze. his skin is paled and crackling with a hellish glow, and his eyes are a heinous reddish shade. the outfit he wore was similar in style to his usual, but darker in palette and slightly edgier. in any other context, it was a good look.

"you look just as good as the day i left you," he grins, dismissing your grief and turmoil for flirtation. you want to fight back so bad, to shove him away and put an end to this but dammit it was the first time you'd heard that voice, that damn voice.

"why did you leave me? cassie?" you're involuntarily sobbing now, full of conflict. "why are you doing this?"

"you're the one causing this entire problem," johnny's defensive, jabbing a finger to your chest. "kronika's new era can save us. neither of us join the military. can you imagine it? white picket fence, two dogs and a daughter, home cooked meals every night and none of this bullshit—!" johnny's arm extends out to a nearby window, giving you both a view of the demon-human-demigod war on time. "—baby. join me. we could have everything we've ever dreamed of." his tone isn't as desperate and loving as it should be. it sounded... pushy. frustrated that you're disobeying what he wants.

"no," you choke out, tears flowing freely now. "you're being played a fool, johnny." he doesn't like your answer, and instead wraps a large hand around your small neck. he slides you back up the wall and spins you, your front now pressed up against a wall.

"you know what i'd miss more than your stubbornness?" he growls into your ear. his hand pressing hold on the back of your head is brewing a headache that quickly fizzles away when his other hand tugs your hips toward his front. you swallow, afraid to reply. "this sweet ass."

his cold, dead hand plays with the fat of your ass which spills a growl from his lips. instinctively rutting into you makes you spill an involuntary whimper out, craving his touch after so long.

"always a pain in my ass," johnny groans, slapping a cheek and watching it bounce. "i've gone years without it, i was practically losing my damn mind."

"johnny—" you barely breathe out. you're not entirely sure what you were going to say anyway. the warmth of his hardness shocks you as it slides up and down your clothed ass.

"mm?" he hums, transfixed on the way your behind fits his cock nicely. it was clear he wasn't fully listening and instead relishing in your presence once again.

as if he could read your thoughts, johnny chuckles to himself and kicks the rifle away, only stopping his humping momentarily to remove your defenses. your legs slightly part to try and catch the gun with your foot, accidentally giving him more access to your embarrassingly needy cunt.

"yeah, fuckin' speechless," he growls, hissing at the sight of your soaked bottoms. "bet you missed my cock, yeah?"

you could hardly even whimper from the onslaught of emotion. johnny's hand snakes to the front of your neck, forcibly arching your back as he pulls to lean into your ear.

"join me," he demands coldly.

"no."

johnny's hand dips under your waistband.

"join me," he demands again, tone getting progressively more animalistic as he tugs downward.

"no."

your pants are practically torn off as he grabs a fistful and tugs them to your knees with his mind-numbing strength. you weren't sure if he ripped your panties or tugged them off too. you hear something unbuckle on his end, and his hot, wet tip tickles your entrance.

"last chance." even though his hand returned to shove you into the stone wall, you could hear his cocky grin.

"go fuck yourself," you spit, realizing your grave choice of wording.

"i'll do you one better." he slams his entire cock inside of you, and it immediately settles into your walls like it was made to bury itself there for all of eternity. even still, going without dick that good leaves your pussy burning and on the verge of crying for other reasons.

he bottoms out quick, leaning back to admire how nicely he settles inside of you.

"well fuck, look at that," he says with genuine amusement in his tone. "you look so pretty stretched out on me like this, it's a sight for sore eyes."

your fingers claw at the stone, eyes rolling back as you take his full length without verbal complaint. as you pathetically attempt to protest, all you can sputter out are disconnected syllables. johnny's thrusts start off slow but he snaps into you as he reaches the base inches.

"all this whining but you're fuckin' soaked," he laughs, snapping into you harshly to hear you cry out. "you're a horrible liar, you know. you wanna join me, i can f — haah —" his own cocky nonsense is cut short when you clench around him. he lurches forward in shock, moving both hands to your hips to deepen his grip. "i can feel how tight you are for me."

in little to no time, johnny's cock is pounding into you at a breakneck pace, a horrid slapping sound echoing off of the castle walls as they mix with your obscene moans and his deep grunts. you're sure he's piling more unholy words into you but they feel so far away when he's plowing into you like a dying man — well.

his cracked, grey fingers grope you shamelessly, pinching your nipple through your uniform or rubbing rapid circles into your clit. the pleasure is too much too quickly and you feel a warmth pooling in your stomach as your juices coat his shaft.

a gasp escapes your lips with each thrust, your husband quite literally knocking the wind out of you each time he slams into you.

"i missed you," he purrs out, and just like that all hesitation and guilt you had flew away as his words made you cum hard. a glimpse of his humanity poured through at your orgasm, and while it was flattering, you had bigger problems to worry about then, including just how hard you came.

each wave of pleasure was met with an extra thrust for good measure, a pulse shooting to your clit that makes your knees buckle. what you quickly realize however is that your zombie husband isn't done with your body quite yet.

"oh, no no no," he tuts, thrusts getting wilder and filling you to the point of tears. "you're done when i'm done. this is what you get."

your sensitive walls continued to shamefully take every inch he forced into you, and you could writhe and twitch as a drop of drool spills from your lip. this revenant was fucking you stupid, using your body for all it was worth in the moment. you hated yourself for falling for his undead charm all over again. your vision was going black and starry before another orgasm rode up on you again, johnny's back shots doing nothing to soothe the overstimulation that was racking your body. it's not long before he's whining too, which turns into his signature whimpering when he fucks into you harshly, spewing his cum inside of you like he owns you. you cum with him this time, flooding with your own juice mixed with his cum that now coated your walls nicely.

tears still burned in your eyes, and so did your pussy from the unexpected stretch. johnny panted above you, face turned up at the ceiling as he tries to compose himself.

"holy..." he pants, wiping the sweat from his face with his arm. he wraps an arm around you and slaps at your bare pussy, making you yelp and jump back against his dick that's still buried inside. you swallow thickly and nod, too hazy to make sense of it all.

"i..." what the hell were you going to say? what is there to say after all of this? you're dumbfounded, fucked silly but torn apart by grief. as you crane your neck to look at johnny, you find that he's already looking at you with a coy expression. like he robbed you of something. tore your very being apart piece by piece and was proud.

"hope you're not mad at me for the whole dying thing, by the way."

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage smut #mk11 #mortal kombat smut #marley writes ☆

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