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pigdemonart · 1 year

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Battle Subway Depot Agents (by pig-demon)

When I made designs for these guys last year I didn’t really think they needed colored references/master post, but since then I’ve drawn them a lot! Also people have added them to their fanfics and drawn fanart! So I figured it was time I made a post for easy ref. :]

These designs are obviously free to use, just give credit (and link me your work if you're comfortable, because it makes me happy to see!) All I request is to stay respectful to their pronouns and skin colors, ya knooow… 👍 note: The pokemon on their cards are all companions, not the ones they use on the Battle Subway. Except Jackie...the litwicks are just there to fill space/give them company.

More info under cut:

Edit: Important disclaimer:

These are again my designs/interpretations for the agents. Please don’t treat them as canon or as the only, quintessential designs for these literal background npcs. Many people have done takes on them before and after me, even back in 2010. It feels silly to ask, but due to past experience, I ask that you please DONT hunt down anyone that does a different take on the depot agents!! 👍

Tags:

I'm gonna start tagging them individually, but for now all Depot Agent comics and art on this blog are tagged under Depot Agents.

Height chart:

I’m not too strict about heights, so I don’t really care about actual measurements. Here’s an approximation of what I tend to visualize though:

Sexualities/Gender Identities: I don't have official labels for each and every agent because I like keeping things fluid for characters to develop these traits on their own. However, as a queer person, I enjoy designing characters who are also queer, therefore I can safely say none of these characters are straight. The ones who are set in stone are Ramses (gay man), Cloud (lesbian woman,) Jackie (non-binary.) Furze uses he/they pronouns but their gender is undetermined. I also welcome anyone giving the agents a different gender identity to suit them (as long as it's done respectfully.)

Notes about each agent...

Cameron:

- Cameron dyes parts of his hair blonde and keeps other parts in black. This is because he is a big fan of Elesa and her fashion choices. - Though there have been a few occasions to meet his idol, he is always way too nervous to approach her, feeling deep down that he'll mess up somehow. - He practices modeling poses in secret. He loves flourishes and flare, but is simply too insecure to put it on display. - Of his coworkers, he gets along the best with Furze. He's the easiest to talk to because Furze will do most of the talking. - Cameron is easily intimidated — even mean Pokémon can make him nervous. Though, his two worst fears are being left in a room alone with Jackie, and being left alone in a room with Isadore. - He takes advantage of his height to sometimes hide behind some of his coworkers. - Cameron is much better at Pokémon battles than he gives himself credit for. Emmet and Ingo were pleasantly surprised by this, since Cameron was promoted to fit a temporary role on the Battle Subway. They happily made him a permanent member when he proved himself capable. - His Dwebble (Pebby) is secretly very strong, and rushes to protect Cameron when it can. Cam sometimes thinks Pebby helps him feel more confident in himself too. - If he stumbled into any of his coworkers outside of work, he would simply explode of embarrassment. - He is the youngest child and only son of his family. He lives in his own apartment in Nimbasa.

Cloud:

- Cloud (like Ramses) knew the twins when they were very young. - She used to be an ace trainer in her youth, even going so far to compete in the Pokémon league. Winning and becoming the champ was the most important part of her journey, but something happened along the way that changed that outlook. - It seems with age, her competitiveness has mellowed out. However, she maintains an intense energy when battling. - Her favorite types are Psychic and Flying types. Swoobat (Sweetie) is her ace. - Her favorite hobby is baking, and she often bakes sweets for the crew. She knows all their favorite flavors by now! - She prioritizes keeping a friendly relationship with all her coworkers and thinks of them fondly. She considers Ramses family after all the years of working together! - She is a big fan of Brycen's movies and can recite the lines. - She lives with her wife in Anville. - Cloud loves doing maintenance work both at home and in Gear Station. She enjoys bringing her own tools and industrial flashlight.

Furze:

- Furze only has one volume setting (mid loud,) but he finds himself feeling right at home when talking to either one of the twins. - Furze has ADHD, and this is reflected in some of his habits, most visibly is his fidgeting when sitting still for too long. - He rides a bike to work every day. When he is late, Cloud clocks in for him so he doesn't get in trouble. - This is a kind of a guy that sits crouched gargoyle style on chairs. Only outside of work, of course. Bad posture could get him in trouble. - While working on the Battle Subway, there will be times Furze feels sorry for his opponents and offers to quietly let them pass anyways. This...has also gotten him in trouble. :[ - He went to the same elementary school as Isadore in Castelia. Though Isadore seems to have forgotten their short-lived acquaintance, Furze has not. This is part of the reason Furze claims they are in fact good friends!!! - Furze is the middle child of a big family. He lives with his mom and takes care of her, along with his many Darumakas and Darmanitan. All of his Pokemon have famous trains names. - He collects model trains. Naturally.

Isadore

- Isadore had plans to become the station master the moment he was hired as a depot agent, but alas... (sad trumpet sound.) - As a youth, he was more interested in science and engineering over Pokemon battles. He enjoys the strategizing aspect, at most. Not so much the competitiveness. - In addition, his Pokemon are all rescues and not used for battling. He's had his Watchog (Winston) since he was in his late teens. - His Electrode (Gregor) and Voltorb (Leonard) were rescued from the likes of Team Plasma. - Isadore admits he understands Pokemon better than humans. This has been apparent his whole life. - In spite of acting like a sitcom villain, Isadore cares about the management of Gear Station and the safety of the passengers to an incredible degree. He sees it as a personal life goal to assist in the management of Gear Station, as well as the success of the Battle Subway. - Though it pained him to become a subordinate to the twins, he begrudgingly accepts it for the greater good. - His almost militant efficiency certainly made up for his years of antagonizing the twins before they became the bosses. Ingo and Emmet understand this better than anyone. - Isadore keeps tabs on all of the staff members. So he very well knows all their birthdays and makes it a point to celebrate it. This is by no means a -happy- or -festive- event. It's just customary. - Like Furze, he was originally from Castelia, but now resides in Nimbasa. Isadore's only family is his mom and she lives in his childhood home with their Stoutland. - Isadore would have probably been voiced by every glasses guy ever J. Michael Tatum had he not already been cast as dear Emmet lmao

Jackie

- Jackie is a mystery and they like keeping it that way. When they talk, it's practically impossible to determine what is a lie or truth, especially if the subject is themselves or their background. - They love scaring Cameron the most and will ask to be paired with him whenever possible. They claim Cameron is their "favorite coworker," while Isadore is the least favorite. - It's plain to see why -- Jackie is the only one that doesn't passively tolerate Isadore's tirades. - Though my comics sometimes may allude to Jackie being a ghost/supernatural, this is not confirmed nor canon. I just personally enjoy toying with the concept. : ) That being said...

- Item #: SCP 7453

- Object Class: Euclid

- Special Containment Procedures: The ████ ██████ is ██████ within ████-██████. - Ingo and Emmet choose to not question anything about Jackie, since it's clear they're one of the more efficient workers. However it can be a safety concern... - Cloud and Ramses have worked with Jackie for a long time, though they've forgotten somehow. They believe Jackie is a new hire since they appear to be young. - Anyone trying to make sense of Jackie's employee records simply can't bring themselves to any conclusions. It's better to ignore the inconsistencies. - Jackie has never been seen to leave Gear Station. Jackie has never been seen in anything but their uniform. Jackie has never been confirmed to eat, drink or blink. Jackie knows your secrets. Jackie thinks it's... amusing.

Ramses

- Ramses sometimes misses having a full head of hair, but he thinks his signs of age make him look distinguished. (he is correct.) - Ramses is sort of the "mom friend," making sure everyone's concerns are heard, as well as trying to keep the peace whenever a conflict might arise. - If another coworker is feeling low, Ramses will try to cheer them up with a lighthearted joke or offer advice if they'd like it. - When the twins were promoted to bosses of the Battle Subway, Ramses cried because he felt so proud. - In most circumstances, he is a very simple and logical man. He is quick to find solutions and tries not to fret over the little stuff. It's not good for his heart after all. - His ace is his Pikachu (Musa,) though the mouse is more of a lap pet now. At home, he also has an Audino (Sara) and a Manectric (Nubi) who keep Ramses' husband company. His Klinklang (Moli) is the only one of his personal pokemon that accompany him to work nowadays. - Ramses considers Cloud family. They are best friends and love having family gatherings outside of work. They also gossip a lot, and don't mind when Jackie decides to join. - Ramses jokes about looking forward to retirement, but really doesn't want to leave until he is physically incapable of working anymore. Gear Station is like a second home to him.

In-Game Quotes

The most important reference of all are their in-game quotes, of course, so I'm adding it to the post. A lot of their personality traits can be extracted and interpreted from these few lines. And I personally love that about Pokemon NPCs -- there's a lot of room to explore and play with. Some appear very obvious. Cameron practically announces that he isn't ready for the battle that's about to ensue and seems genuinely surprised to win. Furze comes out the gate talking about the subject they actually care about, which is their job and their love for trains. The two of them are very easy to understand. Now, Ramses lines allude to a gentle and simple personality. He views himself with humility, and maybe even with a bit of humor comparing himself to a train and to his opponent to a station. If he loses he shows no signs of disappointment, he just accepts defeat with one last honest quip. It s also amusing to see the Depot Agents all use train metaphors to describe themselves since it falls in line with how Ingo and Emmet talk.

In comparison, Cloud does the same thing calling herself the terminal instead. Immediately, she is way more daring, though still keeping a sense of professionalism. To me, it's obvious she is competitive as she even admits she was expecting to win ("Ah...I didn't see it coming.") Jackie's lines are fun since it's up to interpretation if they are being literal or lying. It's almost like they are more interested in confusing/creeping out their opponent than actually beating them. To me, it gives off a mischievous vibe. Isadore's opener "There are only two roads in life." is a curious one because it almost feels like he is trying to be philosophical. Definitely a guy who views himself as an intellectual, regardless if that’s true or not. I like to think it's a saying he really believes in, and it applies to his life. The road he likes (long route) vs the road he hates (shortcut) -- fighting tooth and nail to become boss vs biting his tongue and accepting Ingo and Emmet as the Subway Masters.

Those are just my thoughts on how I write these characters. Please have fun playing with these lines too!

#depot agents #depot agents master post #my art #submas #submas adjacent ahaha #will probably edit as time goes on but who knows really #if you spot any typos no you dont kiss kiss #cameron #cloud #furze #isadore #jackie #ramses

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 8 months

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PRELIMINARY ROUND - DC COMICS

PROPAGANDA

Cassandra Cain

1.) essentially her character premise is that shes more or less an unbeatable martial artist due to the way she was raised. in the comics, she's the second batgirl and had a very popular solo series from 2000-2006. However, essentially DC editorial really didn't like that a teenage chinese girl was a better hand-to-hand fighter than batman, and so mandated that she be turned into a extremely random (also remarkably racist, as she was more or less turned in a 'dragon lady' stereotype) villain, which completely derailed and destabilized her character enough for her to almost entirely disappear from comics for the next decade. this is a far more detailed write up if wanted: https://www.reddit.com/r/HobbyDrama/comments/pdue0e/american_comicsdc_comics_the_saga_of_cassandra/

2.) Following the events of One Year Later, Cass was turned into a homicidal villain who led her own league of assassins and wanted to force Tim Drake into murdering people. This was later retconned as her being drugged, brainwashed, and manipulated by deathstroke.

3.) Literally canonically a better fighter than Batman and probably most of the DC universe. Killed one person once and because of the way she grew up (never taught to speak, learned to communicate by reading body language, in order to make her the ultimate weapon), saw what he experienced as he died and then refused to ever kill again. Had an awesome initial run… And then got hit with "evil mind control" that made her go completely OOC, depopularizing her character so much that a lot of people don't even know she exists.

Barbara Gordon

1.) Was shot as angst value for Bruce and her dad, implied to be sexually assaulted in The Killing Joke with absolutely no respect for her long career as Batgirl. When Alan Moore asked if he could, the editor said "cripple the bitch." She became paralyzed from the waist down. THankfully, an actually good writer picked her up from there and then wrote one of the best stories ever written (Oracle Year One: Born from Hope). Was one of the most iconic disabled characters in comic book history, hell, as Oracle, she was definitely up there as one of the most iconic disabled characters ever as well as a fantastic character, period. There were a few moments where people kept trying to make things out of her disability and had her be shitty to other women for no reason but for the most part, she was awesome. During her time In 2011, Dan Didio and some other misogynistic/ableist comic book writers were responsible for "curing" her disability and forcing her back into Batgirl, despite her having shown absolutely no desire to do so, as part of the New 52. They also made it an editorial mandate that she couldn't have glasses, a cool secret base, and her time as Oracle couldn't be referenced. This was because those writers were nostalgic for the 60s Batman show where Babs was played by an actress they all had the hots for and couldn't accept she'd grown up and moved on. That was bad enough, but over time, she's been increasingly deaged and reduced even further to just Dick Grayson's on and off again girlfriend and a generic girlboss. Batgirl of Burnsides burn in hell.

2.) Famously fridged in 1988, which was so popular with misogynists it became canon. After almost 2 decades of being one of the only disabled characters, was rebooted to a younger, more fun version of herself whose only history is that she was fridged but not disabled by it.

3.) The Killing Joke is one of the biggest comic examples of a female character getting hurt to motivate male characters. Also tbe way different cannons will trade off who her romantic intrest is out of Batfamily is pretty disturbing ranging from Bruce Wayne in Batman the Animated series universe (ew) to Tim Drake in the Arkham games (ew). Not to mention DC now is not letting her grow out of being Batgirl taking away her legacy of other young female heroes taking up her mantle and her getting to mentor them instead forcing her into a Batgirl cycle of purgatory when she was always better as Oracle (Its a little more complicated in the new Batgirl book but its still not solving the issues in a way that feels meaningful enough to make up the damage).

#polls #preliminary round

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thisreadswhatever · 7 months

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Anything For The Club: Part One

series masterlist

[description]: jax teller x female reader, reader x oc characters

[wordcount]: 1.8k+

[summary]: Being Jax's old lady definitely has it's perks, but when a new crew comes into Diosa, your loyalty to the club and Jax is pushed to limits you didn't think possible.

[series cw]: 18+ minors do not interact! female reader, swearing, sexual harassment/assault (non-canon characters), alcohol use, mix of fluff, smut and angst throughout, p in v sex, teasing, violence, gun use, mentions of blood, murder, blackmail

[authors note]: no smut in this part, but it's on the way! this fic has been a long time coming, after i finally found the courage to take on this request! (thank you again!) i had to get creative with coming up with a fictional gang.. this was not my strongest point but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out. i'm planning on getting these parts rolled out pretty quick as i've got majority of this fic complete. let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. i really hope you all enjoy this one, as i'm enjoying writing it! :)

Friday nights were always packed at Diosa since you had started managing the place, and tonight was no different. You walked confidently up the long hall from your office, into the buzzing lobby full of your girls flirting with the clientele, music blaring and drinks flowing.

You had really made a turn of the place since taking over the business alongside Nero, Jax gifted you his share after you’d given up your previous job for the club. You both had agreed you’d stop working in the escort industry, and although the money you made was a huge loss to your lifestyle, you were willing to do it to be his old lady.

You used everything you had learned from your old life to create an enhanced version of Diosa, one that was inclusive and prioritised the women you hired, as a result it was utterly thriving. The Club was grateful for it too, they spent countless hours swooning over the amazing girls you hired, who were only the best of the best. You were a staple within the SAMCRO Charter after the years you and Jax had been together. You were known as the main handler of all things outside club business. The men of the Club respected you, the girls of Diosa wanted to be you, and in all honesty you had never been happier.

The only thing different about tonight was that the Club wasn’t here. Jax and the guys were finishing a run down south near the border, and although you never asked for details, you knew the fact the entire crew had to be there meant it was a big one.

The men who frequented Diosa knew not to step out of line as they feared the consequences that could follow with it being a known SAMCRO hot spot. When the Club’s presence wasn’t intimidating the clientele, you found the likes of all types walking through your doors, from in and outside of Charming. This never did concern you, knowing you could handle yourself and almost anything you couldn’t was easily taken care of with the backing of the Club behind you.

You helped the girls on the bar with the demand, assisting pouring drinks and taking cash. The reason your girls worked here and nowhere else was because you treated them like humans, and they loved you for it. You demanded they have respect from the clients, and their thanks to you was the huge profit they made.

You walked from one end of the lobby to the other, helping the bar staff and listening in on your girls' conversations with their clients. A group of men you hadn’t seen before caught your attention as they walked through the entrance. They were six tall and pretty handsome guys, though they seemed a little rough around the edges. They were suited in leather and denim, their patches reading “VAGOS”. You’d heard the name from conversations with Jax and your time with the Club, but had never seen them in Charming before. They were known for dealing with the cartels further south of California. Not the exact kind of people you wanted in Diosa without The Club around, but you weren’t about to turn away the potential cash they had to spend.

Nero leaned over the bar, speaking to you as he eyed the men up. “Maybe we should call The Club.”

You shook your head at him as you continued to pour drinks, “No no, don’t bother The Club. Nothing we can’t handle.”

You strutted over to the group, a tray of drinks in hand, smiling politely. “Welcome to Diosa. The girls are just this way, treat them right and they’ll do the same.” You gestured towards the available rooms. The tallest member of the group smiled back at you, “We appreciate your hospitality.” You noticed the patch on his front stating ‘PRESIDENT’. The men nodded thankfully, and took the drinks from your tray as they dispersed into the lobby. The pack’s leader stayed behind, lingering at the bar.

You walked back to Nero, who was now at the front desk watching the exchange. “They won’t be any trouble.”, you assured him.

Nero laughed softly, “you do have a way with men, chica. But these guys are from way south, they ain’t no joke.”

“They don’t look so big and bad to me”, you shrugged.

“Just keep a close eye on them, any funny business and they’re out of here.”

“You know I don’t put up with bullshit, Nero.” You smiled at him reassuringly, as you turned on your heels, heading back towards the bar.

The President was still there, drinking a straight whiskey from a short glass, watching the girls around the lobby do their thing. On occasion his eyes would meet yours, and you could sense the meaning behind them when he held your stare.

You and Jax had agreed you wouldn’t get involved with the clientele, not only for Jax but because you were done with that life. You were happy to flirt and tease the clients, but it never went further than that, and it definitely wasn't a good idea to get involved with the President of another gang.

You continued to work throughout the night, kicking out belligerent drunks and handling business as usual. You were headed back behind the bar when the leader interrupted you, “you’re Teller's old lady, ain’t that right?” He seemed curious in tone, and despite the fuck-me-eyes, you didn’t get the sense that this guy was at all threatening.

“That's me. Seen any girls you like?”

"I sure have." His eyes scrolled up and down your body as he spoke.

You shook your head at him. "I just run this place. But if you follow me, I can get you a room with our finest girl."

He ignored your offer, “what’s a fine woman like you doing with a guy like that? You could get any man in California and instead you’re with a SON?”

You looked at him warily, unimpressed by his blatant disrespect towards Jax. You were used to the harmless flirting and banter from your clientele, but this guy was just rude.

“Is there something wrong with Presidents of Motorcycle Clubs?”, sarcasm plaguing your tone.

He raised his eyebrows chuckling, “and where is the Pres? I don’t see him here..”, he looked around the lobby, searching for someone he knew he wouldn’t find. “How about you come sit on me instead.”

You scoffed at his advance, turning toward one of your staff before you left the bar. “Could you get this President another drink, Mandy?”

Mandy was the hardest working girl on your staff. She was utterly gorgeous with long flowing black hair and a smile all the men swooned for. She had stepped back from working in the rooms to your dismay, but she was too good to let go. As a result she ended up in charge of the bar, handling takings and stock, and she really enjoyed it. You both had known each other long before Diosa, and you knew she could handle him.

Mandy answered you with a grin and nodded to the man, “what can I get for you?”

He smiled back at her and asked for another whiskey, watching you storm off towards your office. He seemed generally harmless even if he was rude as hell, but there was something about him made your skin crawl.

Your cell phone started to ring in your back pocket as you moved down the hallway. The feeling of unease disappeared as soon as you heard his voice on the other end of the line.

“How’s my girl?”

You slumped into your office chair, calm instantly. “Missing you.”

“Me too, darlin’. We thought we’d be heading back by now but there’s been more heat than we expected.”

“When will you be home?”

“Looking like tomorrow now. Really sorry, babe. How’s Diosa?”

You felt there was no point in giving him details about the gang members in the lobby, it would just be another thing for him to worry about.

“Busy as usual” you beamed. “I’ll be counting down the hours till you're back.”

“I’ll be there before you know it. Get home safe, okay?”

“You too. Love you.”

“Love you more, babe.”

You put your phone in your back pocket and headed out of the office, bracing yourself for the next annoying thing the drunk President at your bar had to say. As you walked through the long hallway back to the lobby, you could see him standing in the entry way. There was no way you could avoid him as he was totally blocking your exit.

“You lost? The girls are this way.” You pointed towards the lobby, hoping he’d follow. Instead, he moved inward, eliminating the space between you both.

“Actually I was looking for you, sweetheart.” He placed his hand along the back of your thigh, trying to bring you closer.

You pulled back from him, removing his hand sharply. “We have plenty of girls who will interest you. I’ll show you the way.” You tried to squeeze past him, looking for an escape.

He put his arm across your chest, placing his hand on the wall, making it impossible for you to move. He was looking down at you, his eyes dark and cloudy from the whiskey. The feeling that this man wasn’t a threat to you now waivered. This wasn’t a guy you wanted to be alone with.

“My interest has already peaked, little lady.”

You pushed his arm off your chest, snapping back at him, “I said I’m not available."

He leaned further into you, whispering in your ear, "I know old lady's like you can keep a secret, sweetheart. Nobody's gotta know."

You pushed with all your weight against his chest, and with the help of the several whiskey's he'd had, you managed to knock him unstable, and he fumbled into the wall. "I said no. Now you and your guys need to get out of here.”

He stood himself up straight, scoffing in disgust. “So much for hospitality. You ain’t nothing special anyway.”

He stomped off into the lobby as he called out to the other members. “Let’s go. We’re leaving this shithole.”

They quickly followed, a few of them protesting as they had to leave the ladies behind. The President looked over his shoulder at you as the members ran out the door, any kindness completely void in his eyes. He slammed the entrance door behind them, and they were gone.

Nero looked over to you from the front desk as he watched you at the bar, pouring yourself a shot of bourbon. “What the fuck did I miss?”

You had taken two shots by the time you responded. “Just an unwanted advance and an extremely fragile ego.” You took another shot, ignoring the burning as the liquid made its way down your throat. “I’m fine.”

“Knew those guys were assholes. You should head home, I’ll close up tonight.”

“You sure? I’m okay, honest. I can stay with you.”

He shook his head, “just get home and let me know when you’re back safe.” He took the bottle from you, placing it back behind the bar.

“Thanks, Nero. Really appreciate you.”

You knocked back your final shot before leaving Diosa for the night.

———

part two

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller fiction #jax teller smut #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller imagine #charlie hunnam #sons of anarchy x reader #soa x reader #nero padilla x reader #soa #soa imagine

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intotheseas · 27 days

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Devil's Snare 🔞

2,930 words, explicit, smut, MDNI - Read here on AO3 or below the break. Happy Saturday! ❤️🔞

Tags: bondage, unprotected piv, praise kink, dominis, porn with feelings, plot what plot, consent, idiots in love, love confessions, finally they fuck, sexual tension, biting, slight choking, aged-up characters, devil's snare is totally a wingman in this, slight alterations to canon, just suspend your disbelief a little it's smut okay, one-shot

Summary: Ominis and Blaire return to Hogwarts eight years after graduation. She tells him about the rumoured Hidden Herbology Corridor, and maybe it's the nostalgia, maybe it's the tension that's built between them for ten years, maybe it's just magic, but they decide to find and explore it. Blaire, too distracted by the tension hanging in the air, finds herself trapped against the wall by the vines of Devil's Snare. What will happen next?

“Did I ever tell you about the time Duncan Hobhouse asked me to gather a Venomous Tentacula leaf?” Blaire giggles at the memory. Her long-time friend Ominis shakes his head, his brow creasing. Leaves rain on them from above in brilliant reds and oranges, drifting along the ground as a breeze kicks up. They’re sitting on a bench in front of the castle that was once their home, so many years ago. It feels nostalgic to be back, a little exciting, a little bittersweet.

“Why on earth did he want you to do that?” He rests his elbows on his knees, tilts his head in her direction. They meet at least a few times per week, have for years, but somehow Blaire’s never told him this story. He’s always happy to hear her stories, though. When Blaire transferred to Hogwarts, she accomplished more in a single year than most students did in all seven and she never runs out of anecdotes.

And somehow she’d captured his attention then, involving him in all her wild adventures and exploration. He fell in love with her along the way, but never had the guts to confess his feelings. He loves her still, after all these years, but he doesn’t dare tell her.

Their friendship is far too precious for them, especially after their best friend Sebastian Sallow disappeared. They hear word of him occasionally. Never from him, but from others. He’s a curse breaker, somewhere exotic. Ominis and Blaire think the guilt of what he did at the end of their fifth year was too much. Think it drove him across the world, eager to escape it all, even the people who supported him in the aftermath.

It hurt, losing their best friend with no warning. But it brought them closer, too. They both interned at St Mungos, worked their way up and became respected Healers - Blaire, known for her skill with magical maladies and cure research, and Ominis known for his skill in healing injuries and diagnostics despite his blindness.

Now, just after their twenty-fifth birthdays, they live comfortable lives in London. There will always be a hole where Sebastian vanished, and Ominis thinks he’ll always yearn for Blaire in ways he’ll never feel brave enough to admit, but they treasure their weird little friendship. The trip to Hogwarts transports them back to their late teenage years and the intense emotions that marked their lives then. It’s poignant, reconnecting with the ghosts of their pasts.

Ominis doesn’t know it, doesn’t dare to think it possible, but Blaire’s just as hopelessly in love with him as he is with her, and just as afraid of destroying their bond. He can’t see the way she gazes at him with longing, the way she bites her lip when his forearms flex, or when he stretches after a long shift. He just knows she’s never far, and that brings him more comfort than he could have ever hoped for. Sure, they’ve had flings with others, but nothing that ever lasted long. They’d never said as much, but no one ever measured up.

Blaire giggles again. “Well, remember how everyone used to call him ‘Puffskein Dunkein’? I’m pretty sure you were one of the main perpetrators of that ” Ominis can hear the smile in her voice. She always sounds so lovely when she smiles. He hears her long hair blowing back in the breeze, feels an urge to wrap her scarf more snugly around her.

“I remember,” he says, a grin of his own forming. Something about the nostalgia and crisp fall air is stoking a giddy, electric energy between them. “And I certainly called him that often. Little prat deserved it.”

“Right! Well, he wanted me to go somewhere he called the ‘Hidden Herbology Corridor’ to collect a leaf, so people would think he was brave.” Blaire leans back against the bench, tilts her head to rest on Ominis’ shoulder. Little affectionate gestures like this have been their norm since seventh year. Little dangerous dances. “I told him he’d be better off learning how to be braver, instead of paying off students to fix his reputation.”

Ominis laughs. “Always knew I liked you for a reason.” He freezes. Neither of them speak, and they decide to pretend it didn’t happen. That’s how it always is with them. Something in their thin veneer slips and they both assume it was a one-off, an accident. They always assume there’s no way it could mean what they hoped it meant.

But something about the clear fall air, the echoes of their teenage selves…Blaire feels daring, like she wants to take some chances. “I never ended up checking it out, but…we could, if you wanted?”

He raises his eyebrows. “Is your return to Hogwarts making you want to relive your glory days?”

She shrugs. “Why not? I mean, for all we know, it doesn’t even exist.”

Ominis is cottoning on to the buzz in the air. “Sure, why not? You’ll have to lead the way, of course.” He holds out an arm. She tucks it against her side, relishing his closeness. Her skirt flutters in the breeze as they set off.

They wander through the grounds, navigating based on Blaire’s memory alone and encounter a thick wall of ivy. Blaire squints at it. Its placement is odd, like it’s hiding something. “Hey Ominis, I’m going to make some fire, okay?”

He backs up. Ominis is more than used to her proclivity for fire magic, a gift imparted on her by Sebastian. He feels a gust of warmth and hears the crackle of burning plants, followed by Blaire’s triumphant cry.

“I think I found it! You ready for an adventure?” Her voice quivers just a little, and she latches back onto his arm.

“After you,” he says. “Do be careful. I’m off the clock and I’d rather not have to treat you if you injure yourself.” His tone is teasing. He’s treated every injury of hers he’s known of over the years, and she’s done the same for them. It’s just what they do, without question.

The burnt ivy scratches at them as they pass through and arrive at a large, ornate door, wooden with iron embellishments. Blaire pushes it open with some effort and the scent of greenery mixed with mustiness washes over them. It’s dim, the only light coming from the occasional hole in the ceiling, metres above them. The space is cavernous. No one seems to have visited in years.

Blaire tucks herself closer to Ominis, relishing his body heat in the cold, draughty corridor. She shivers, from fear, from cold, from something else entirely. Neither of them admit it, but traipsing down a mysterious corridor together only heightens the strange tension buzzing between them. Nostalgia is a powerful drug.

“Think there’s anything valuable here?” Blaire breaks the heavy silence.

“What, first you want an adventure and now you fancy a bit of treasure hunting? You covert little thief. What am I going to do with you, Blaire?” His voice is lower than usual, a little husky. He doesn’t quite know what’s come over him. Maybe it’s the nostalgia, maybe it’s the creepy corridor filled with danger, but he’s feeling more forward than usual. Something intoxicating sings through his blood.

Blaire shifts away from him, his tone sending a shiver through her core. Uh oh . She hadn’t expected this sort of tension, but they don’t have many opportunities to be alone, either. Their meetings always occur in public, like they both know they’d fall together if others weren’t around to keep them in check. Gotta distract myself , she thinks, and creeps further into the corridor.

Despite her best efforts, her mind wanders to dangerous places, and in her haze, she doesn’t notice the mass of black vines to her left. Doesn’t notice until one loops around her wrist, pulls her back against the wall.

“Ah-!” Blaire gasps as more vines appear and snake around her ankles and calves. She struggles, but the vines grip even tighter. Devil’s Snare , she remembers. She isn’t sure if the feeling in her gut is dread or arousal.

“Blaire?! What’s happening? Are you all right?” Ominis’ wand waves red trails through the air as he tries to locate her.

Blaire’s heartbeat thumps under her flimsy blouse. The vines have wrapped around both wrists and ankles, up to her calves. She’s trapped against the wall. She knows if she struggles, she’ll just become more helpless. The thought sends heat pooling between her thighs, has her thinking maybe she wants to struggle.

She whimpers. “I’m, uh…a little tied up?” The vines have her in a very compromised position. They’ve spread her arms at her sides, forced her ankles wide apart. Her back arches, pulls the thin material of her button-up blouse taut against her chest.

Ominis draws near, but trips over a vine, drops his wand. “Fuck,” he mutters. He reaches out with his hands, follows Blaire’s whimpers. He tries to ignore how tight his pants have become. The sounds she’s making are utterly sinful and he’s never wanted her more, but he needs to help her. Focus , he chides himself.

Her whines grow closer, bordering on moans. Ominis can’t stop thinking how positively filthy it sounds. She must be terrified, and yet he’s thinking with his cock. You’re despicable, he tells himself. Finally, his hands make contact with Blaire. He feels the silk of her shirt, gasps as his fingers ghost over the curve of her waist. He apologises, but her breathing only becomes more shallow, more desperate as he pulls away.

“....Blaire?”

She whines. “Ominis? Please don’t stop touching me.” Her entire body is on fire, her nerves screaming with want. “The vines have me immobilised. Um…I want…” She can’t say it, not after ten years of friendship. She moans, begging him in her mind to sense her desire, her face scarlet.

Ominis’ breathing is ragged. Sure, he’s imagined himself with her countless times. Regularly. She’s his favourite fantasy. He’s stroked his cock, rutted into his hand thinking of her soft fragrant hair, her smooth skin, her curves for years, various erotic daydreams centred around her playing through his mind. But he never imagined anything like this.

His head is foggy. Too foggy. He can’t think straight, can only think of pressing his mouth to her neck, drawing out more of those pretty little moans… fuck . “Blaire,” he gasps. “I…I’m having some trouble focusing.” His hand lingers on her waist, then moves on its own, trailing up her side, skirting around the curve of her breasts, settling around her neck with utmost care…Merlin, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

And now she’s here, tied up like a present for him.

Blaire can’t take it anymore. She needs him, needs his touch. “Please, Ominis. I…I’m begging you to touch me. I want you.” Her voice is almost a whisper.

Something snaps in his mind at those words, that desperate tone. His proper façade wears thin. She wants him? Finds herself tangled up in some vines and now she’s eager to give herself up? Who is he to deny her? His grip around her neck tightens.

He pats his other hand up her body, following the curve at her waist, sliding up to her cheek. “You want this, Blaire? Trapped by Devil’s Snare and you want me to touch you? Do you want me to fuck you? Goodness, I never knew you were so filthy.” He’s a centimetre away from her face, their breath mixing together.��

She cries out, arching toward him, desperate for contact. “Please ,” she begs, the word drawn out like a desperate prayer.

Ominis crashes his lips into hers. His kiss is needy, desperate. It’s over 8 years of pent up desire. She moans against him, her mouth open, and he slips his tongue against hers, moves his hand down to knead her breasts. This won’t do, he thinks. He deftly undoes each button, pulls the material aside. A delicate lacy brassiere separates her from him and he cannot stand it. He reaches around and yanks at the clasp till it falls apart, pulls the brassiere up and over her, tucking it behind her head.

Blaire writhes, the vines tighten more and she gasps in ecstasy.

“You’re such a filthy girl,” he murmurs against her ear. “On display for me, and you love it…” He fondles her breasts, rolls her nipples between his long fingers, nipping at her neck. His mouth leaves a trail of marks, leading down and over her chest, finally capturing a nipple in his mouth. He bites down, none of his usual gentleness present and she keens, her voice echoing off the walls of the corridor.

Ominis yanks her skirt down and rips her panties off, discarding them for a future explorer to find. “I’m going to ask you one last time, Blaire. Do you want this?” His hand brushes against her pussy, marvelling at its slickness and heat.

She answers by arching herself against his fingers, coating them, desperately searching for friction.

Ominis moans, a deep, guttural sound. That was the point of no return. He slips his coated fingers into her mouth and she sucks on them as if it’s the loveliest thing in the world. Anything to please him, anything to have more. “My good girl,” he moans. “You’re so fucking lovely.” He undoes his belt and pulls down his pants and underclothes. His cock springs free and he wastes no time grinding it against her slick pussy. It isn’t long until he’s coated in her, the very thought obliterating any remaining hesitation.

She whines, the friction driving her mad. “Please Ominis, I’m begging you, please, I need you inside me, please make me yours. I can’t take it any longer.” She grinds against his cock, and the vines pull her in tighter, slithering and coiling up from her wrists to her shoulders. She whines in frustration, in need.

He nips at her neck again, his bites turning sharp. “Such a desperate, eager girl…” He grinds his cock against her entrance slowly, torturously. She can’t move at all now, her upper half held flush against the wall, her lower half angled toward him like an invitation, her legs spread just for him.

He lines his tip up against her entrance; the heat radiating from her drawing stuttering gasps from his lips. He pauses, dragging his tongue along the shell of her ear. “Want to know something?” he asks.

She cries out. “Anything,” she begs.

He sinks into her in one fluid motion, whispers into her ear. “You’re mine.” His voice is commanding yet sweet, and she moans as he fills her completely.

The vines creep up her thighs, spreading her legs further apart as he moves inside her. His thrusts are deep and rough, rutting against her. Her oversensitive clit throbs at the new friction with every thrust as he holds nothing back. He fucks her like he wants to drive her into the wall, like this might be the only chance he gets.

“Oh Blaire, I’ve wanted to make you mine for so long. You’re so fucking tight, so good at taking my cock, sweetheart. Merlin, you feel perfect, such a good girl, my good girl.” He groans a stream of praise into her ear as he fucks her harder, each of them careening toward release.

She’s lost in utter ecstasy, her mind fuzzy and drunk. There’s nothing but his cock driving into her and the vines pulling against her. She stutters out moans as each thrust rubs against her clit, driving her maddeningly close.

She moans his name as her pussy throbs around him, whispers how much she wants him, how perfect he feels, how wonderful he is.

He feels her walls clench, hard, and bites down on her shoulder as he empties himself inside her. Their moans tangle and combine, gasping through their peaks and coming down as one. They pant together, and he kisses her face as they float back to reality.

“My wand,” Blaire whispers. “In my skirt pocket.”

Ominis leans down, fishes it out. He murmurs “lumos” and “accio wand" and the vines release her, sending her forward into his arms, and his own wand back into his hand. He holds her gently, reverently, kissing every bite mark he left.

She holds onto him, fearing if they break apart it’ll all end.

“Ominis-”

“I love you,” he interrupts. “I have for years.”

She pants against his chest, still catching her breath. “And so have I.” They laugh together in disbelief and awe.

He dresses her slowly, peppering her with kisses along the way. Little I love yous, marked into her skin. When they exit the corridor, the bright sun sears Blaire’s eyes. Brilliantly coloured leaves dance around them in the breeze, and it seems to whisper its approval.

“Ominis…do you think we were meant to come here?”

He laughs. “In which way?”

She flushes, at a loss for words, and he takes pity on her. “Yes, I do. I’ve loved you for years and I’d like to keep loving you for years to come. Where else would we discover that?” A thought flashes through his mind: if he ever sees Duncan Hobhouse, he’ll have to thank him for giving them the courage to finally stop dancing around each other. He whispers this to Blaire, and the irony makes them laugh as they walk down the leaf-lined path, hand in hand.

#hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #ominis gaunt x mc #hogwarts legacy smut #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy

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pinkaditty · 7 months

Text

Cater Diamond Thoughts

hey hey part 2 of my insatiable brainrot. been sitting in my drafts for like. weeks. it's Cater's turn. he's gyaruo (and im gyaru if u didn't know!) so i've been obsessed with him for like. months now.

summary: a small collection of thoughts about Cater Diamond that has no chance of curing my permanent unending gyaruo brainrot. help me please. content warning: suggestive content, implied sexual encounters, creepy (ish?) behavior, gn!mc, proofread once or twice at best. a/n: Cater's turn raaaaaah! this isn't exactly nsfw but all the same I'd really prefer it if MINORS DIDN'T INTERACT! thanks! also a reminder that I WILL NOT WRITE NSFW FOR TWST CHARACTERS CANONICALLY UNDER 18. thank you very much for respecting my boundaries! and i promise part 3 of the pervert obey me thing is in the works! <3

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI IM SO SRS.

thank you! enjoy the read!

Cater Diamond who is aloof.

He finds himself not caring at first, especially when you decide to spend all your time with other people when he could’ve been the perfect upperclassman. He finds himself not caring when he watches you get swept away by the hotter, older upperclassmen. He finds himself not caring when you can’t come by Heartslabyul as often anymore.

And then, very quickly, he starts caring. He doesn’t know why or how, but you somehow managed to become an object of his desires when he tries very hard to not let that happen with anyone, ever, at all. Sure he’s liked people, but he has never been spurred to act on it. So he doesn’t know why he goes out of his way to speak to you, to do things with you. Why does he invite you to go for tea and take cute pics? Why does he text you out of the blue just to share a silly thought or idea? Why does he jump for joy whenever he’s invited over to Ramshackle Dorm? And why do you go along with it every time?

He's mystified at how you've managed to break his aloof structure in so little time. But he's not going to let you get away with it. Now that you've caught his attention, he's going to ensure that he catches yours.

Cater Diamond who is secretive.

He's the kind of person to keep things casual on his end, regardless of how committed the other party may be. He wants to know everyone's deepest secrets and desires, but prefers to keep his under multiple layers of locks and keys. Most of his relationships were almost always one sided, mostly because he could never keep himself tied down. He didn't like to be owned, but he liked to be desired.

After growing up in a house with two older sisters, he hadn't had much privacy, and hadn't had much secrecy either. But once he was exposed to different worlds, he made it a point to keep himself a secret. Talking about home was stressful, and working through the stress surrounding it was even worse, so he always kept his emotions a secret. His sunny disposition and eager attitude was more than enough to catch interested stares, so he kept it up. He was a bit of a tease, but people liked that. The problems came when people grew close to him and expected him to open up in return. That is usually when things would end or grow stagnant. The terrifying ordeal of being known and owned was too much for him. No commitment, no permanence, no promises. Just silly temporary flings, hookups, and infatuation. He was never tempted for more.

And yet, with you, he finds it hard to not want to be yours. He craves your attention and will do anything to receive and retain it. It is especially satisfying when he manages to draw you away from others and instead towards him. It gains him more than a few displeased glares, but who cares? The only person whose attention he cares about anymore is you.

Cater Diamond who is clever.

It may not seem like it, but he's got more than a few tricks up his sleeve.

He will first ask you for your schedule, under the premise of wanting to spend more time together. When he has it, he memorizes it until he knows it off the top of his head. He keeps a close eye on your social media to track your favorite places, and asks you to go there with him, saying he wants to try something new. He plans out random encounters, few and far between enough to make them seem coincidental. He doesn't follow you, but he does show up. And because of that, he begins to stick out in your mind.

He'll fish for your attention every chance he can get. He'll post the most random, silly things just to get you to like it. He'll click his pen a few too many times in class just to get you to glance over at him and watch him click it repeatedly. He'll fake a stumble if he's walking in front of you just to get your help. He'll put up his hair differently in flight class just so he can catch your questioning stare. He'll do all these things just to feel your eyes on him, so that he can feel like you've noticed him. And if he's brave enough, when he catches your gaze, he'll smirk knowingly, his eyes creasing up at the edges and say "You're staring," as though that wasn't exactly what he wanted.

He can't bring himself to confess first, so he'll bait you into doing it, by planting the idea in your head in perhaps not-so-subtle ways. He'll mention the incoming Valentine's Day and how badly he wishes for a confession, or he'll bring up the topic of crushes often as though he's dying to know who you've got your eye on - all the while knowing it's him. When you finally crack and cave, admitting your feelings for him, his heart soars. Of course he accepts your feelings, and while the fear of commitment eats at him just slightly, it's muffled by his fulfilled want to be yours.

Maybe you fell first, but he definitely fell harder.

Cater Diamond who is prideful.

He's never been proud to be tied down, ever. But it's with you and he's learning to enjoy it. All he does is talk all of Heartslabyul's ears off (and anyone else who will listen) about how wonderful you are, or how beautiful you are, or how he adores every little thing about you. And while he does indeed love you, there is something satisfying about the palpable jealousy that hangs in the air when he mentions staying the night at Ramshackle Dorm or going out on cute little photogenic dates with you. His eyes glimmer with pride every time someone sucks their teeth or rolls their eyes or lowly growls. He doesn't even remotely feel threatened.

He tries not to flaunt you too much, for fear of being overly zealous, but he offers his arm to you every time you walk together. He kisses your forehead sometimes when he sends you off to class. He takes as many pictures as he likes of you in your cutest outfits. And he always makes a show of it if you sit near him at lunch. He can't help it. He's just so proud. The question is, is he proud to be yours or proud to have you?

Cater Diamond who is capable.

It doesn't take long for you to bed each other; romance wasn't the only thing blossoming between you two. Cater very quickly proves himself to be far more than adept at such activities, but recognizes that there is love in this too, this time.

In the past, he always did it how his partner liked it to keep them interested, ensuring both parties were happy, but only to his own benefit. He never said "I love you" or anything as flimsy and daunting as that. It was always whispered moans and whines from him and his partner, various curses, vulgar descriptions, and a cry to signify release. Nothing more, nothing less. If such committed words were uttered, he'd stop seeing them. He always made it clear that that's never what he wanted to hear. He only wanted to hear how good they were feeling, how close they were, or what they wanted him to do or what they wanted to do to him. It was always just to get off or satiate a burning attraction, never to demonstrate love.

Like the past, he wants to make you, his partner, feel good, but unlike the past, it is a demonstration of love. He will do everything in his power to ensure that you know that he loves you through every technique he knows. He thinks of you first and him second. Whatever you want done is done, however you want it, whenever you want it, all to show that he loves you. He doesn't care. As long as it satisfies you, anything's worth it. And he does satisfy you. Every time.

He never gets tired of hearing his name moaned out on your tongue, and he never gets tired of the taste of yours, sweet as honey, lingering on his lips like a whisper.

Cater Diamond who is devoted.

He's been tied down, slowly but surely. Whether you planned it or not, you've simply got him wrapped around your finger. Of course he knows this, but can't bring himself to want to tear away. He is safe and comfortable with you, and all the things you've shown him. He quickly finds that, instead of being proud to have you, he's proud to be yours. He's proud to be loved in the way he's learned to love. Whatever residual fear he has of commitment, or loss of control, is all dissolved when he looks at you, your hand curled around his, your eyes watching him.

He takes pictures of you all the time to remind himself that he's yours, and he curls into your chest at night to remind himself that he's yours, and he bathes in the jealous stares of his peers to remind himself that he's yours.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Cater Diamond who is in love with you.

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

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Cater Diamond my beloved?!?!?? anyways. thanks you guys for reading. genuinely I hope you all appreciate Cater Diamond as much as I do, especially after reading this! take care, and stay tuned for the other adult characters!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland smut #twst x reader #cater diamond #cater x reader #twst cater #cater twst #cater twisted wonderland #cater diamond x reader #cater diamond twst #minors dni #minors do not interact #cater diamond x yuu #cater diamond smut

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0lshadyl0 · 9 months

Note

Any HCs or scenarios on Yandere Hancock boa ?? I think she an interesting character 🥰

Of course, my dear, she is a fascinating character, in fact, she is my favorite female character after Nico Robin, I am weak to black haired women with cool powers and sad past.

Yandere Boa Hancock headcanons

• Brave of you to assume that she is not a yandere in the canon, that is, she has all the points to follow for her character to be a yandere, especially a delusional yandere

• sad past with traumatic events, no friends, position of power, no one contradicts her, she gets lost in her own fantasies, lives in her own reality and obsesses over a person beyond what is sanely possible, yeah she checks all the marks

• But, she would only become obsessed with her romantic interest if he has a very specific personality (for example, Luffy)

• Ok, let's say that the key for her to fix her eyes on you is that you have heroic tendencies, that is, she likes people with a good heart, willing to do what others would consider crazy in order to help others. the others (such as hitting a Tenryūbito, better yet, killing one)

• or just a very kind person with a great charisma, very positive mind but who doesn't take shit from anyone

• if things happened naturally, I'm pretty sure Hancock would be obsessed with a woman, Luffy is an exception to the rule (call it the power of the script thanks to being the protagonist of the series)

• Let's remember that the first men in her life that she met were the Tenryūbito and they are the worst experiences that a young woman like Boa could have, emotionally, physically and sexually (I'm 200% sure that she was raped by a good number of them, that's why despite being in love with Luffy she never sees herself having children with him… probably she can't even get pregnant due to irreparable damage to her sexual organ or simply they removed the ovaries so that she could not get pregnant by the Tenryūbito since she was a slave and the slaves are not worthy of having a child with a being as noble as a Tenryūbito is)

• Anyway, when she fixes her eyes on you, in her head she already begins to live in a world apart

• You've probably seen each other a maximum of five times and most of it in battles, possibly you saved her from some dangerous situation but not paying much attention to her, but in her head, you two are already engaged

• Yes, she is the type of women who, from a very young age, dreamed of getting married and having a large family full of love, a dream that has been transformed into only having a partner to love and be loved by because of the Tenryūbito and all their shit

• She is a relatively easy yandere to deal with, since the word of her s/o is divine law for her, she will never question you, nor will she go against you, she will not hesitate to put herself in danger or give her life for you, she literally will kill for you

• But, keep in mind, she is very jealous and in an unjustified way, nobody can look at you because she is already asking questions and imagining scenarios where you abandon her.

• Because, despite all that she says about being the most beautiful woman in the world, she actually has low self-esteem due to her past as a slave, she doesn't feel that she is worthy of you, because she is dirty

• But if you tell her that you are not interested in that person or deny knowing about the existence of the person who made her jealous, she will believe you without a shadow of a doubt.

• You can tell her that the sky is green and for her, yes, ultimately the sky is green and she will turn anyone who says otherwise into stone

• She is a stalker, she will follow you everywhere and will always be watching you, of course, at a respectful (Hinata-Naruto style) distance if the two of you get into a relationship, she will stick to you like gum, she is unbelievably clingy and has no idea of the meaning of personal space

• She is one of the few yanderes who have no sexual intentions, because she is traumatized with sex (she has never known about vanilla sex or consent) and considers it torture, she loves you too much to do you any kind of harm

• Oh, but if she were to get over her traumas and discover that sex can be enjoyed and is a way to stay connected to the one she loves, man, get ready for a long ride

#shady answer #one piece #yandere one piece #yandere posts #one piece headcanons #yandere x reader #yandere hancock #yandere boa hancock #yandere boa hancock x reader #one piece imagine #one piece boa hancock #boa hancock

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penvisions · 4 months

Text

of beskar and kyber {chapter 12}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: The job Din took to get credits takes a turn for the worse, the crew turning on him in a way that insights your direct involvement. It leads to a heavy conversation between the two of you.

Word Count: 11k (holy crap!)

Warnings: sexual content (!!), dry humping, talk of sexual intimacy, talk of previous sexual experiences, talk of sexual boundaries, description of male and female bodies, orgasm, sexual innuendos, sexual teasing, description of injuries (brief), canon typical violence, fighting, use of blades / knives, description of being stabbed / cut, description of being impaled (!!), tense situations, stalking, san fights(!), unsavory characters

A/N: took a few liberties with episode six, i hope y'all don't mind! a few things were changed in order to accommodate san's presence. i hope y'all like this once, a lot of stuff happens but that seems to be the way these are gonna go as we pick up plotlines from the series! there's a BIG scene that i hope people enjoy, lemme know what you think, pls? i'm so nervous to move the story along in this way but it felt like the right moment for these two

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi

You were quiet as you boarded the ship, thoughts buzzing into white noise that you couldn’t begin to decipher. This…this was a mess. This was far more complicated than a simple rescue of a man that had been taken by rivals. This was an elongated interaction with people from Din’s past and people who had no respect for him despite knowing nothing of him but stories from a time past.

Realistically, you knew it would be a different dynamic between you both with other people around, with going back to a routine of sorts for Din to collect credits and take jobs. Bound to be a harder living now, in the wake of his separation from the Guild. But the people he had sought out to work with? It was all too nerve-wracking, too risky. Ignoring the fact that one of his past involvements was a part of the crew assigned to the job, the issue that concerned you the most was that Mayfeld had once been Imperial.

He could’ve been one of the people sent after you, could’ve been one of the people informed of your survival, one of the people who could recognize you. And that, paired with the presence of the Child, was too risky for you. Tempting to pull Din aside as ask him to drop you both off somewhere to wait for him to complete this job. But even that could bring more attention to you, and you were frustrated to be in such a plight.

The sounds of Zero up in the control room filtered down into the hold and you shook your head to rid yourself of the dizzying thoughts that were taking over, consuming from the inside out. If the ship was a part of the job, there wouldn’t be any time to ask for alternative surroundings. You would have to deal with whatever was about to transpire head on, whether you were a part of the job directly or not. Your involvement was inevitable. The voices of the people you would have to endure for the next few rotations were a drone from just beyond the ramp.

The droid climbed down the ladder and walked past you without so much as a glance, but you could hear him speak as he descended the ramp toward the group gathered outside as they went over things.

“Despite recent modifications, the ship is still quite a mess.”

A few more moments passed before the group was entering the ship. As soon as you heard steps on the ramp, you quickly climbed the ladder and sealed yourself in your room. Standing before the crate Din had given you, you reached down to unclasp it and began to dig around. The rattling of your painkillers could be heard before your hands closed around the bottle.

“She’s not a part of the crew, she doesn’t need to know any details.” Xi’an’s trilling voice floated up from the hold and seeped through the open door that Din had just walked through.

“Bet she’d be a good lookout, sure put you in your place. Could be an asset if we get bogged down. Not too bad on the eyes either.” The countering voice of Mayfeld sounded before the door hushed shut, drowning out Xi’an’s heated next words. It allowed for their voices to become muffled and when you didn’t look up from where you kneeled in front of the crate a sigh fell from Din.

“Talk to me.”

“I don’t have anything to say right now, other than that this is a bad idea.”

“I didn’t know she was still a part of the crew.” You pulled the bottle from beneath the clothes it had been under, still not looking over toward his armored form close to the door.

“She’s not the problem, not the only one anyway.” You grumbled as you tried to get the cap off the bottle, but your hands were shaking. “He’s Imperial, do you have any idea the kind of danger that puts me in, that puts ad’ika in?”

“He’s some front line soldier, the chances of him knowing about-“

“It doesn’t matter!” You pushed up quickly, turning to face him, pills forgotten. “There’s still a chance!”

“Did you even think this through before you contacted Ran?”

“Of course I did.”

“D-“ You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check, trying not to say his name aloud should anyone overhear. Pinching the bridge of your nose to stem off the headache that was forming, you decided to be completely honest with him, to tell him that he was being reckless. “Mando, you didn’t. You have a child aboard the ship.”

“And I will protect him at any cost. Protect you at any cost.” He regarded you quietly, taking in the way you slammed the crate closed and began to pace back and forth in the small space. You were wound up, the clasps on the trunk tinkling as they vibrated, his eyes glancing at them and then toward your clenching hands. The energy flowing off of you was palpable and for a second, he was in awe of the natural way you manipulate it without even thinking. You had forgone hiding your powers in favor of giving Xi’an the same treatment she had treated you with, it had been rather telling of your emotions to push back against her so easily. “I didn’t know they’d need the ship.”

“I-I don’t like this. It’s too much of a risk.”

“I understand that you’re afraid-“

“Of course I’m afraid! My entire fucking life has been thrown off by the Empire and one of the people who served for them is aboard the ship!”

The errant items around the room were floating in the air with the energy from your emotions. You didn’t even notice you had been causing it until Din stepped closer to you and reached out for you. You glared at him and before you could say anything, he was gripping your face in his gloved hands and stooping in low to peer directly at you. The visor so close that you could see the reflection of your panicked eyes staring back at you. You looked so scared, face contorted in a concerning display.

“Please calm down, mesh’la.”

“You should’ve told me, before you contacted Ran.”

“I should’ve, I wasn’t- I didn’t think.”

“I know it’s not my place, but-“

“You deserve a say, you have a say. I will heed anything you have concerns about.”

“Where are we going?”

The pause he took told you enough about the matter. You weren’t going to like it; with the way he was hesitant to inform you was all the answer you needed. His arms wrapped around your shoulders, gloves brushing the braid your hair was up in and pinned around the back of your head.

“A New Republic prison transport ship.”

“They have you breaking into a prison ship to free an inmate? Okay, that’s- Okay…do you want me to stay on the Crest or do you want me-“

“I don’t want you to do anything unless you want to do it. It’s up to you, mesh’la.” You guided his hands from around your body, gripping them tight with your own. With a questioning glint in your eye, you removed his gloves and tucked them into his utility belt. His hands rose to cup your face once again, eyelashes fluttering at the bare feel of them. His thumbs brushed your cheeks in a soothing motion.

“I would feel better being with you, I don’t trust them. And that’s not to say I don’t have faith in you, but…”

“I understand, I have faith in you too. I would like it if you were aboard the ship with ad’ika, but it won’t be taking off unless you and I are both back on board.”

“I…will stay, but you contact me the second anything goes awry. Promise me, please?”

“I swear to you.” He watched as you brought his hands up and pressed a gentle kiss to the skin of his knuckles. The modulator in his helmet crackled, the sound bringing a smile to your face as it revealed something about him. That he liked your touch on him, the affection you were giving him.

The visor stayed focused on you, but you were sure his eyes were traveling back and forth between your lips on his skin and shine of your eyes as they glinted with a promise.

Metal doors slamming open had you following right on Din’s feet, down the ladder and into the hold.

Burg was standing in front of the cabinet where Din kept most of his weaponry and supplies. It was right outside of his quarters, and your eyes trained on the control pad for it, checking that the lock was still engaged.

It had been an brief conversation that ad’ika would be kept away from the people aboard the ship. A worry about Xi’an and her knives along with concern about him getting overwhelmed and exposing his own powers. You could hold your own, should they decide to try and test you. Though the idling fear of them talking about the exchange between you and Xi’an was a low thrumming in the back of your mind.

With a press to his vambrace, the cabinet swiftly closed before the Devaronian could get his hands on anything. Mayfeld and Xi’an both looked over from where they were seated around the makeshift table as you stepped off the last rung of the ladder and stood beside the imposing figure of Din.

Burg huffed, a frustrated sound coming from low in his chest. He turned around to stand over Din, trying to intimidate him once again. As his hand flew out to mess with the controls closest to him, the one leading to the closed off quarters, you and Din both stepped forward, you move in front of the door, behind the tall man. At the contact of Din restraining Burg from moving any further, Mayfeld decided to jump in with repeated utterances of ‘hey and okay’.

“I get it. I’m a little particular about my personal space, too.” As he spoke, Din sidled around Burg, urging him away from the door. You stood your ground as Din stood beside you once again. “So let’s just do this job. We get in, we get out, and you don’t have to see our faces anymore.”

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian and his little shadow.” Burg rumbled as he stared you both down, unwavering in his direct contact.

“Well, apparently they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy.” Mayfeld leaned back a little, raising his arms out. “So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

You bristled internally at the hurled comment, the hairs on the back of your neck prickling up as you felt energy wash over you. The ill-mannered attitude and crack of a ‘joke’ sitting like lead in your stomach and heart. Too many of Din’s kind were gone, mostly wiped out. Those that prevailed, did so with such a vibrance for their way of life and continuation of religion and culture. While you may not be Mandalorian yourself, you had been rescued and cared for one in your darkest hour and for years after. Endless respect and admiration for your guardian and Din beside you stirring the need to protect.

You were about to take a step forward when you felt Din brush his hand against one of your own. Xi’an took notice of the small movement event as she laughed along with the guys and continued to balance the point of a knife on her outstretched hand. A hard tint to her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“Well, you flew with him, Xi’an.” Mayfeld rolled his head to look over at her across the makeshift table they were both seated at. Clear, now, of your metal working tools and the armor you had been working on before anyone had boarded. “Is he as good as they say?”

“Ask him about the job on Alzoc III,” She turned her focus back onto the blade, ignoring the way you were standing guard over the doors still, how close you were to the armored man in question.

“I did what I had to.”

“Oh, but you liked it.” She spun the knife around to grip the handle, pointing a finger toward him from across the space, her voice hinting at something more. With a telling smile that allowed a glimpse of her sharp canines, her eyes flitted from his visor to you behind him and back. “See, I know who you really are.”

Her words were for you, though her eyes never left his figure. Taunting,

“He never takes off the helmet?”

“This is the way.” She mocked in a low timbre, bringing a closed fist to the front of her chest.

“I wonder what you look like under there.” Mayfeld pinned him with a look, something behind his eyes you weren’t too fond of. “Maybe he’s a Gungan.”

“You ever seen his face?”

Xi’an gasped, the sound drawn out and breathy as she caressed one of her lekku with a gentle hand.

“A lady never tells.”

She had to be lying, he wouldn’t have removed it for her. He wouldn’t remove it for anything, it was his sworn Creed. And yet, doubt painted your thoughts in a dark swath. Jealousy lit up ugly inside of you, making you question the tentative stepping stones you’ve already waded on. Made you feel inadequate in the face of seeking him out in such a way. Though he had done nothing to prompt the feelings himself, it was all based on her and her reactions. The intimidation you felt from her garnering negative emotions in the wake of rediscovering yourself and your own notions of things taken from your life and tainted in the worst way.

“What about you, surely you’ve been privy to it?” Mayfeld’s eyes found your own, a smirk pulling at his lips. You narrowed your eyes at him, not willing to play into his teasing with so much as a shake of your head. It was none of his business, none of anyone’s business but Din’s. The lack of respect they had for his way of life, his religion, his Creed was sickening. Their collected ignorance a telling sign that they didn’t care about anything that didn’t directly serve them. Then the insinuation of intimacy and the breaching of personal boundaries had your shoulders knotting tight, fingers tapping against your thigh.

“Aw, c’mon, Mando. We all gotta trust each other here. She trusts you, for whatever reason, what’d you have to do to gain that?”

“Do not incite her, in any matter.” The modulator crackled with the force of his words, as if they were being spoken in that dark voice through clenched teeth. You let him take the figurative step of telling them to control themselves, having worked with at least one member of their little quartet before. He knew better than you, what type of people Ran employed and kept in his company.

“You gotta show us something. Come on. Just lift the helmet up.”

Burg loomed closer, form so large in the space of the hold.

“C’mon, let us all see your eyes.”

At a small nod from Mayfeld, Burg reached out a hand with a confidence.

Din immediately slammed a hand over his wrist and pulled him forward, using the loss of the man’s momentum to shove him away. You stepped back, trying to stay out of the way. Burg quickly gathered his bearings and lunged, only to be kicked back into the small alcove beside the quarters. Trying to catch himself from falling on his back, Burg’s hands shot out and gripped the wall, fingers dragging over the controls for the door. They flew open behind you to reveal ad’ika standing atop the cot, face contorted and nervous.

He looked from you to Din, sounds falling from him that made no sense. Reaching out mentally, you tried to sooth him, to let him know everything was okay.

But everyone’s attention was on him, and it made him freeze in his spot.

“What is that?” Mayfeld wondered, unbridled excitement coloring his tone as he stood from his seat and began to move closer. You moved to block his view into the quarters, blocking ad’ika from the lingering stares as you felt panic wave off of his small form. One of his small hands reached out for you, and you felt your heart skip a beat.

Din didn’t move as Mayfeld walked past him, Xi’an rising from her seat behind him and following.

“You get lonely up here, buddy?” Mayfeld approached, peering over your shoulder with an intensity that unnerved you.

“What a minute, did you two make that?” He turned to Xi’an, close on his heels. Her curiosity getting the better of her in the moment.

“Don’t.” You said, reaching out a hand to keep him a few paces away.

“What is it? Like a pet or something?” He pestered, waving his hand up and around, watching the way large eyes followed the movement over your shoulder.

“Yeah, something like that.” Din finally spoke, though it wasn’t what you expected. He was trying to play this off, like it wasn’t a secret that had been unearthed. Hoping that the initial reaction would wane into one of indifference.

“No? Okay, what about you, is that thing yours?” Mayfeld’s eyes roved up and down your body, lingering in places they shouldn’t. “Bet it was a hell of a good time, making something like that. I wouldn’t mind a partner as submissive as you seem to be for him.”

“Watch it.” You growled, words forcing their way through clenched teeth. You could hear the crinkling of leather as Din did his best to keep his hands to himself, willing you to deal with the unsavory attention lest the entire job blow up. You closed your hand, feeling the energy around you and manipulating it, Mayfeld gasped as the air in his lungs was suddenly gone. He stopped trying to get ad’ikas attention and clawed at his throat. His face reddened as he struggled to breath but at a nod from Din you ceased the action.

“Didn’t take you for the type.” Xi’an moved into his personal space, face only a few inches from the front of his helmet. As if she wanted to touch him, her hands twitched at her sides. “Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

Quickly gathering breath back into his lungs, Mayfeld didn’t drop the teasing, though it was less direct.

“Me, I wasn’t ever really into pets. Didn’t have the temperament. But I’m thinking, maybe, I’ll try again with this little fella. Take him off your hands and babysit.” He tried to get around you, but you flung him back, his feet sliding across the durasteel flooring.

“Do not touch him,” Your entire body was alight with the instincts to protect, to hurt those invading personal space and boundaries time and time again in such a short window.

Zero’s voice broke the tension with the announcement of dropping out of hyperspace.

The ship lurched, jostling everyone with how rough it was.

The ship careened, gravity shifting from underneath you. Your stomach was in your throat, and you were reaching for the small being tossed from the cot. Your fingers just grazed the edges of his tunic as he flew past you. Your back knocked into the door frame, but you kept as quiet as you could, not wanting to draw any more attention to yourself. The Child cried as he landed harshly on the floor, right where Din had been thrown to his knees, barely able to catch himself from flattening completely.

As the ship landed and docked onto the top of the transport ship, stable for the time being, Din carefully cradled ad’ika in his arms and pressed him into your own. You curled your arms around him, sitting atop the cot and murmured soft words to him as he clung to you.

“That useless droid didn’t even give us a proper countdown.” Xi’an hissed as she straightened up herself, having been tossed over the makeshift table and across the hold.

“Alright, Mando, we’ve got a job to do.”

He stepped away from you, his visor lingering on you before he turned to face the watching group. As he did so, he pressed something along his vambrace, controlling the bottom panel of the ship and it opened up to reveal an entrance aboard the ship below. He connected a device to the seal of the entrance, the small screen blinking red in rapid succession. You watched as everyone exchanged looks, communicating something you weren’t privy to as they collected around him and peered down.

As soon as the device displayed a green screen, the entrance unlocked and opened with a hiss.

Disengaging the device, Din gathered up the cable and stepped aside.

“It’s me?” Mayfeld asked, looking around at the faces trained on him.

“Always you.” Burg announced, as if leading the job wasn’t something Mayfeld was quite used to. Didn’t know that it was his responsibility to lead in ways other than with his words. He lowered himself to the ground and took a cautionary glance into the space below. Deeming it clear, he braced his arms along something and dipped out of sight. Xi’an and Burg followed after him.

Din’s figure paused as he stood around the entrance, looking over to you for a moment. You were already watching him. You stood, closing the distance, adi’ka held close to your chest. Leaning up, you pressed your forehead to the front of the helmet in what was quickly becoming your greeting and farewell with the man.

“Keep in contact,” You spoke quietly, not wanting the others to overhear you despite them no longer being in the same space. He nodded once, before he jumped and disappeared through the opening.

Beeping sounded from your vambrace, alerting you of an incoming call. You quickly pressed the button to allow the audio transmission to filter through. You had been trying to distract yourself by working on the chainmail, something repetitive enough to keep your mind occupied while you waited for Din’s return or a communication from him.

“Sarad, I’m locked in a cell. They’re coming back to the ship.” A heavy sigh separated his announcement from the orders he gave next. “Take out the droid and put the ship on manual lockdown, make the settings ask for either your chain code or mine to operate. We have fifteen minutes until the Republic Army descends.”

You left all of your supplies and materials out in the open on the table and quickly checked on adi’ka, making sure he was secure in Din’s small room. You handed him a snack, hoping he would sleep with a full stomach and through whatever was about to transpire. Making your way up to the cockpit, you could hear Zero talking to the others.

“You have a potential problem. He has escaped.” Zero was announcing over the comm line as you silently entered the control room. You raised your saber in your hand, blade not yet engaged. You brought it down swiftly, bringing it to life and beheading the droid in a smooth motion. His voice box tittered and the entirety of his body sparked before he fell to the floor of the room.

You set the ship according to Din’s instructions and jumped down through the open space in the hold before you could catch your breath.

The lights were flickering, power being shut off and you could hear corridor walls slamming shut. The lights kicked back on, bathing the entire ship in eerie red hues. Closing your eyes, you focused on the situation at hand, centering your self before you began to move about the foreign ship.

As soon as you found an access point, you connected your vambrace to the source. You searched the stored files for a layout of the ship and downloaded the display. Holding it up, you began to run down the hallways, leading you toward where you could feel the presence of Din.

You comm sparked to life as soon as you rounded a corner.

“Xi’an is two turns away from you, mesh’la.”

“Copy that.”

You stayed one hallway behind her, keeping tabs on her and the path she was winding around the ship. A silent stalker she had yet to sense was just around the corner. You could only hope she would lead you toward Din, the hallways closed off every so often, creating a labyrinth. As she moved about, more would hiss shut behind or in front of her, as if guiding her toward her assailant in an unnerving way.

She suddenly stopped, turning and throwing three knives down the hallway you were just hovering on the edge of. Looking at the map displayed from your vambrace, you turned and decided to get ahead of her and take her down. Just as you heard her steps approaching your position, she whirled around and began flinging knives out. Din was an intimidating figure on the other end of the hall, she was trapped between the two of you. She tried to stave you both off, but it was clear she was better at throwing than direct defense.

Metal clanged as knives bounced off of Din’s armor, but one landed into the unprotected part of his shoulder, and he stumbled back. She advanced quickly, and they found themselves in a stalemate, his own knife held under her chin and one of hers at his inner thigh. She caught sight of you in the corner of her eye and with a smirk she plunged it deep into his leg. He shouted out in pain, leg weakening as blood discolored his trousers. She pushed off of him and charged at you, but you engaged your saber and rushed toward her.

She flung two knives at you, but you easily cut them in half and they fell to the floor.

“You think you’re so much better than me?” She snarled as she managed to swipe the back of your hand, saber slicing into her shoulder. She jumped back, trying to get some distance but you advanced, blade humming ominously. She hollered loudly, glancing away for the barest second back at where Din was kneeling on the ground and trying to shake the feeling back into his leg. “That he’s going to stay with you but he’s going to run, he’s going to run from you just like he did with me.”

“You’re nothing!” You didn’t bother rising to her taunts as you swopped the glowing blade low, jolting her back to avoid her ankles getting singed. But you had grazed her, the leather of her boots singed with a line that was smoldering. While her focus was down, she braced herself and her knees bent.

“You kriffing bitch!”

“Shut. Up.” You punctuated your words with swiped of the glowing blade to cut her belt from her. You kicked it away, standing unnervingly close to her and peering over at her with a glare. The pulsing energy from the saber lighting up your eyes to show her that you were so far beyond reasoning with. She lunged at your legs with a screech, but you flicked out a hand and she flew back a few yards.

She struggled but once her balance was her own, she was back up on her feet and jolted forward. The blade hummed as you moved against her, the singing of her shoulder pulling a guttural noise from deep in her chest and she ducked before crashing her body into your legs, causing you both to tumble to the ground in a tangle of limbs. The handle of your weapon flying out of your hand and clattering into the wall. The blade disengaged, but not before it cut a swipe into the metal.

Your back hit the floor hard, knocking the breath out of your lungs and you gasped. Vision blurring but you reached out and gripped the back of the headwear she wore. Jerking her back, you flipped to pin her face down. She groaned out, body sore from the rough motion. Her breath catching in her throat when you realized you had made good on your threat, back on the space station. One of her knives was gripped tight in your hand, held beneath her chin, blade chilling her skin where it pressed.

She used the hand that wasn’t pinned underneath her body to dig her fingers into the cut at your thigh, pulling a strangled grunt. You leaned back on your heels, trying to move far enough back that her hand fell away from you, bloodied and dripping. You panted as she twisted underneath you and shoved at your shoulders. Just as your back hit the ground a second time and she hovered over you, her legs pinning you down harshly. Crying out at the sting of a blade embedded in your shoulder. She forced it with both of her hands, digging it impossibly deep into the muscle.

You heard Din call out, could see him try to close the space between your two scrambling forms and his own.

Your other hand shot out, reaching out and the saber handle zoomed across the floor toward you. Past Din who was splashed red with dark blood.

Xi’an screeched at you as she tried to get a hold on your hair to slam your head into the ground.

But the second it was in your grip, you engaged it.

Everything fell silent save for the humming of it.

Errant blood escaping from the puncture bubbled and fizzled, rank smelling steam bursting into the air between you both. Her body fell limp above you, her middle catching on the hilt of the blade and she hung only slightly above you, unconscious. Shoving her from you and powering the weapon down, you scrambled up to your feet. You looked over her toward Din, seeing him holding a wide hand hard against his leg.

“Is she…?”

“No, I didn’t hit any major organs. She’ll need medical attention soon though, to avoid going comatose.”

“You need medical attention too, that’s a lot of blood.” You looked up from the splatter of it on the floor, up the expanse of his leg where it stained his trousers, to the dark visor of the helmet. Ripping the bottom of his cape off, you fastened it into a tourniquet around his thigh. He grunted as you tightened the knot around his muscle, wanting to ensure he didn’t bleed out.

He told you of his plan to leave them here, lock them in an empty cell to be found by those coming to the ships call for aid in the face of danger. To be caught and held responsible for their crimes.

“Qin” Din’s voice boomed across the hallway, the suddenness of him speaking since falling silent while set to the task of gathering the others into the very cell they had locked him inside. He motioned for you to stay back as he rounded a corner, his ripped cape swirling behind him as he calmly approached the man whose rescue this was all about.

“You killed the others.”

“They got what they deserved.”

The sound of an upset snarl was followed by the clicking of two blasters being drawn. Your heart stuttered, but you knew that Din had the situation under control.

“You kill me, you don’t get your money. Whatever Ran promised, I’ll make sure you get it, and more.” An argument of the most logical approach, knowing that he was overpowered and at a disadvantage. “Come on, Mando. Be reasonable.”

The clunk of a blaster being tossed to the floor calmed you a bit, your nerves loosening as you realized this was going to go easier than expected. Seems like the man knew all too well the capabilities Din possessed, perhaps someone else he had worked with in the past and didn’t want to be on the receiving end of his wrath. Reading the room and how upset he must be with how things turned out, with how quickly they had fallen into chaos.

“You were hired to do a job, right? So do it. Isn’t that your code? Aren’t you a man of honor?”

Unnerving laughter filled the air, making the hair on the back of your neck rise up.

But Din remained silent, unwavering, intimidating in his lack of engagement. You had experienced it firsthand, and it was easy to give into the stoic figure he made in his armor, the black stare of the visor as his helmet trained your every move.

“Board.” Was all he said, a hand signaling you to fall into step behind him.

“You’ve got yourself a little shadow, now that’s something new.” The twi’lek commented before he began to climb the ladder up into the Crest.

“Don’t engage with her, she took down Xi’an and she won’t hesitate to do the same with you.” An impressed sound hummed from him as he settled at the makeshift table. Eyes moving about the space to take in the environment, sus out any hidden threats or people lingering from the crew that had been assembled to come to his rescue. As comfortable as he could manage, he ignored Din’s warning and spoke directly to you the second the man was out of earshot, having moved up into the cockpit to get the ship in motion.

“What’s a pretty little thing doing with a big bad man like Mando?” He smirked at you, eyes roving over your figure in a way that made your skin crawl.

At your silence and scrutinizing gaze, he looked you over. From the ripped fabric of your trousers to the braid of your hair, over the entire length of your body. You didn’t show the discomfort at his roaming eyes, simply taking it in stride. Knowing that if he were to try anything, you wouldn’t be reprimanded for retaliation.

“You know, I never expected Mando to be so free with his space. My sister tried for years to get him to let her stay aboard this hunk of junk he calls a ship. Always met on his terms, never giving anything more than he was willing to, even if she pushed.”

“But you, you’re different. I can sense it. I see things he has no relation to scattered around the ship. Your mark on his space, it means a great deal whether you realize it or not. But he’s a selfish man, and he’ll make that known to you sooner or later.”

You didn’t engage, only spared a glance over at him when you readied yourself a serving of the tea given to you by the clinic. The painkillers they provided you with had been doing a good job of staving off the cramping in your middle, but nausea and a gnawing feeling in your stomach prevailed.

You turned to face him, stilling as you took in the defeated air about him. He had his freedom, he had his life back after having been caught, but he didn’t look happy. He lacked something that didn’t light his eyes through all the way, and you felt bad for him. He may not be the best person, but you could see that something was missing and he felt the space whatever it was left in its wake. He was watching you, his eyes trained on the way you picked him apart at the very seams. Calculating how he displays himself versus the things you see in him that he does not.

He shifts in his seat, anxiety at your scrutiny given voice.

“I’m selfish too.” You said before ascending the ladder and leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

“You keep that little shadow of yours close, no tellin’ the attention she’s garnered from being at your side.” Ran chimed after Din, aiming the thinly veiled threat at the man’s back. Turning to face down the ramp, hand hovering over the panel that controlled it, Din took notice of how the man was gazing up toward the windows of the control room. A glint to them that unsettled him, like you were something to own and control, to be used to get back at him.

He was silent as he boarded the ship once again, guiding it into flight immediately. Ships beamed in from hyperspace around you, focus on the space station none the wiser behind the Crest.

“Hey, I have a question.” You announced, securely seated behind the man as he directed the ship into hyperspace. The controls beeping and toggles switching underneath Din’s hands as he controlled the ship and set a course. He made a low hum, to let you know that he heard you and was waiting for your next words.

“What do you want me to call you around other people?”

“Mando is fine.”

“That makes me uncomfortable. It’s informal, it’s on the cusp of an insult, to associate you only with what you’re known as. You’re much more than that.”

“I don’t see it that way, so you don’t have to worry about me taking it that way.” He was quiet for a beat, chair turning back around as you walked up beside him. Emotions flitted across your face and you frowned when he turned back toward the control panel. You watched as he punched in coordinates from within his mind, a system of planets further out from the mid rim popping up on the screen. His fingers hovered as he slowly panned across the options displayed in front of him, thoughtful. “What did you call Akiz?”

“Cabur, kebiin, nuhunla jag.” You reached for his shoulder, palm going over the pauldron in a caressing motion. Thoughts and memories pulling you back into the past.

Protector, blue, funny man.

“And what did he call you?”

“Kih goran. Mir’sheb. Ner kar’ta.”

Little blacksmith. Smartass. My heart.

“I’ll respond to whatever you choose to call me, mesh’la.”

“Why…um, why…do you call me that?”

“Because you are.”

His visor turned to you, and you felt a pull toward him but took a step back instead. Overwhelmed by the honesty in his voice, the sincerity with which he shared his reasoning with you.

“O-oh, okay.” You could feel heat rising up the column of your neck, surely visible to the man seated in front of you. A way for him to know that his words had an effect on you.

“She was a youthful indiscretion.” He broached the silence of you tending to the cuts he sustained. The one on his thigh had been quickly tied off but now needed proper attention. He had removed the armor fastened about his legs while he waited for you to change and return to the hold. His boots were inside his quarters, not wanting them to get jostled about in the open space of the hold. He wasn’t sure where ad’ika had gone to, but nothing was clanging nor was he making noises like he needed something. He may have followed you up to your room, curious as to what you stored in there along with the pull of your larger cot with softer blankets.

“I believe…that she was once something you wanted so you sought it out.” Your attention was focused on the contents of the first aid kit Din typically kept inside the weapons locker. It was laid out on the floor beside you, some wrappings already torn into and pressed to your own injuries.

“But, seeing how she is and everything insinuated, it was all fast and rough and passionate. And whether the attraction deteriorated over time and taken over by disdain, there was feeling there.”

He was quiet as he watched the way you carefully wiped the wound free of blood splatter that had stained the skin. Gentle fingers applying bacta cream to the wound, trying not to irritate it, before wrapping gauze around the diameter of his thigh. Cutting off the roll and knotting the end of it to keep it secure but not too uncomfortable or damaging, your hands stilled on him.

“There was, it was fleeting. More about the…familiarity we had with each other than anything beyond general attraction.”

“But you sought her out, time and time again.”

“Only while working with the group, the second I left, I ceased it all.”

“But it was, wasn’t it? Rough and about power, to see who could overpower the other and take pride in the ability to bring each other down in such a way.” That was what had bothered you so much about seeing them interact with each other. The way she tried to overpower him, the way that he let her attempt to with no reaction. Knowing that if he were to show a reaction, even small as one could be, it would be like giving her the satisfaction of knowing that she had succeeded in getting under his skin.

“That…was a big part of it, yes.” He admitted, after a few bated breaths.

“I may never be able to give that to you, that type of dynamic.” You admitted softly, feeling self-conscious for the umpteenth time since first stepping aboard that lone space station. Din’s past lying in wait to take you both off guard in the most unexpected of ways.

“I’m not asking that of you.”

“But you liked it, obviously. It was intense enough for her to linger on the interactions, to feel cheated by your disappearance.” You worried your bottom lip between your teeth, contemplating the route of the conversation. Trying to hold your emotions in check, your own inner turmoil at the subject matter in order to show him and yourself that it was normal to talk about these things, to discuss these things with those you wanted to be with.

“San, please look at me.”

“Din, you-I may not ever be able to be that willing, to give over control completely.”

“I’m not asking to take control; I’m not asking anything of you. It’s- that’s not what I’m-I’ve changed. This, what we’re doing- It’s all on your terms, your comfortability, your willingness. Whatever you want to give me will be enough, even if it’s nothing at all.”

“You-you would really be okay if I were to not want to explore that with you?”

“Y-yes, mesh’la, of course.” He stuttered as you stood up from where you were kneeling by his feet, where you had lowered yourself to tend to his injuries. Not breaking your focus from the helmet tilted down at you, something in your eyes he hadn’t seen before. His visor was trained on you as you stepped into the space between his thighs, hands resting atop his shoulders, fingers spreading along the cowl that covered his neck. Words seemed to flee him as he could only sit there and feel you untangle the fabric from around his body, folding it carefully and setting it on the makeshift table off to the side.

You paused, bottom lip between teeth as you thought something over. You felt like you were out of your element, unprepared for the yearning and heat that had suddenly taken over. Filling the space between every nerve and nestling right behind your ribs with a weight you were sure you couldn’t shake even if the desire to do so crossed your mind. Looking over at him, right into the dark line of his visor, you leaned in and whispered to him.

“But what if I wanted to?”

The weight of your words hung in the silence between your bodies.

“Th-then we would go at your pace, as I said before.”

His hands remained balled at his sides as you began to unclasp the securing mechanism on his cuirass. As soon as the first one was undone, one of his reached up to hold the panel of armor in place. Your hands focused on removing the back panel he wore when the second clasp over his opposing shoulder was loosened. With a soft reverence, you set the panel down atop his cowl, to avoid it potentially scratching on the material of the crate. Hands trailing over the one he held to his chest, you took the weight of the cuirass from him and stacked it atop the other.

Before he could lower his hands back to his sides, you loosened elastic bands that held the armor plates over his forearms. Slipping them over his hands, and then removing his gloves with the same focused attention. You fiddled with his hands for a second, tangling your fingers with his own, the contact sparking heat as you recalled how efficient he had been fighting with Xi’an, with stalking and intimidating Mayfeld, the tense conversation with Qin. The hands so softly brushing against your own were capable of so much, of such strong and powerful things. And yet, they yielded so easily to your own, he allowed you to touch him, to disrobe him, to see him. Your heart stuttered in your chest.

The padding he wore underneath was warm from the heat of his body, the velcro snicking loudly in the quiet of the hold. The sound sparking warmth low in your middle, the fact that he was letting you disrobe him of his armor, an intimate thing for someone of his beliefs, was not lost on you. You guided his hands to your body, resting them on the flare of your hips. His hands curled around them, holding to where you let him touch. Fingers digging into the material of your trousers and the belt loops around your waist.

The pair of pauldrons were the next to be carefully removed. You stepped closer into his space, his legs spreading to accommodate you and you felt the sparks reach up into your sternum. A stuttering gasp fell from your lips when you felt the twitch of him where the front of your thighs pressed into the inner most part of his own.

“S-sorry.”

You leaned down, hands hooking over the broadness of his shoulders. Running the tip of your nose along the exposed skin of his throat, down to where it connected with his collarbone. Placing a chaste kiss there, you let your lips brush against him softly as you spoke.

“It’s okay, I want to feel you.” He twitched again and the sparks bloomed into a simmering heat. “If you’d let me.”

Whatever answer he was about to speak died in his throat as you reached for his belt, the buckle clinking and effectively shutting his thoughts down. Loosening the belt, you untucked the long sleeve he had on, exposing his toned upper body. His shoulders and chest were broad even without the protection of his prized armor. The cut from one of Xi’an’s knives was red and irritated, you were thankful she didn’t douse them in anything before hurling them. The skin around it was splattered with a bit of dried blood and you reached for the cloth once again to wipe it away.

Chest adorned with dark hair that you ran a hand over in a petting motion. He twitched against your upper thigh, and you looked down to see the outline of him through the fabric. Feeling the way he was practically throbbing at your attention, you reached a hand down and were about to caress him when one of his hands stopped you.

“Don’t want you feeling like you have to, just because of what happened. Or to…prove something.”

You shook your head, letting him know that’s not what was fueling your attention. Hands resting firmly on his chest, bare skin on bare skin you looked right into the visor.

“I want to. I-I may have been thinking about it the past few days. But seeing how quickly things can fall apart, I want to know you in this way, to show you that I care about you in this way.”

He nodded once, listening to you, believing the earnest words you spoke to him. You reached down to rid yourself of the tank top that was stained with your own blood. The fabric hushing as it moved over the bacta patch in your shoulder. As soon as the clothing was added to the pile of his armor, his hands were on you, pulling you tight to him. You gasped at the press of your nearly naked front to his, heat simmering into something almost overwhelming, nerves lighting up.

He surged up, arms holding you to him underneath your thighs. Tightening your arms around his neck, and your legs around his middle, he made sure you were secure before he walked you over to his quarters.

“Is he-“

“He’s in my room, wanted to see the lights through the small window.”

“Good,” He rumbled as he gently laid you down atop the cot, taking in the way you looked in just your bandeau wrapping and sleep shorts. Soft, tan skin on display for him. The dark smattering of his chest hair, the hair that trailed below his belly button and down beneath the band of his underwear. His hips bones visible, his stomach a little soft, his muscles strong and defined. It made you feel honored that he would share his body with you, allow you to see him in his purest form.

You reached for him, tugging him into the space between your legs by the belt loops of his trousers, knees dangling over the edge of the cot.

“Not everything.” You whispered, tone lifting at the end in a hesitant question. Self-conscious of the bleeding that had been slowing, body still adjusting to a natural rhythm of hormonal changes after so long. Afraid of moving too fast, of being too much, of not being enough. Wanting him despite the trepidation of this being the first time you were sharing yourself with a man in this way, given the choice to.

His fingers deftly worked the buttons and shimmied the clothing down his legs, revealing the toned muscles that had only been glimpsed at through the cut in them. He was beautiful, a pillar of strength and skill, the build of him telling of his training and lifestyle. The bulge of him against the black fabric of his boxer briefs was obvious and your eyes stayed trained on it. He looked so big and you wanted to feel him against you. Kicking your shorts from where you had removed them from your hips, you pulled him down onto the cot.

His visor was aimed at the damp spot darkening the light fabric of your underwear.

“Mesh’la-“

He groaned, words drowned out by the sound as you hooked your legs around his waist and ground up into him. His hands supported himself on either side of you, hovering over you in the small space, as his body folded over you.

He rutted against you, body taking over as the heat of you so close was all he could feel paired with the softness of your skin. The dim lights in the personal quarters bathing you in an ethereal glow. You keened as the heft of him moved against you, the hardness between his legs making desperation form low in your middle. You gasped, head tossing back with his slow movements, legs tightening around his waist.

He groaned, a deep, gravelly sound that shot straight down to your core. Slick seeped into the fabric of your underwear, and your hands shot out to hold him tight to ground yourself. The action pushed your chest together, breasts jiggling with his motions as the thin fabric of your bandeau did nothing to hide the perk nipples that shown through.

The tip of his cock caught on the hood of your cunt, the pressure spinning your head despite the thin layers that separated you. The feeling of him hot and hard against your aching clit pulled a throaty grunt from you, fingers curling into the muscles of his arms, nails digging into his skin. The front of his helmet thudded against your forehead, drawing your eyes to the visor so close. You wish you could see into it, through it, the way his eyes had to be blown out. You wondered what color they were, not for the first time, and you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth as pleasure tingled all over.

“Good, mesh’la,” He panted, modulator crackling with his heavy breaths. Your hips bucked as he ground into you, body spurred on by the need to feel him even closer. But not yet, it would be too much too soon. One of his hands hovered over your chest, fingers reaching but pausing as if he was unsure if he was allowed to touch. “You feel so good.”

“Please touch me,” You arched your back, pushing your chest up to where his hand hovered. When his palm cupped one of your breasts, a moan tore from your throat at the sensation. Your hips lifted instinctively, seeking him out for more more more. You breath quickened as your stomach pulled taut, so close to the edge. It was overwhelming in the best way, the pleasure sparking steadily between the feeling of him rutting between your legs, the way his thumb brushed over your nipple as he palmed your breast. He was everywhere.

“Din, please,” Your eyes watered, the sensations all consuming. He pressed closer to you, hips undulating as he chased his own pleasure. He stilled his hips and ground against you, nudging that little bundle of nerves just right. Muscled tightening, back arching, legs caging him in as close as possible, you tried to tell him, let him know how good he felt when your release washed over your senses like hot water.

The keening sound that fell from your lips trailed off into a whimper as he thrusted against your slick covered underwear, guiding you through your orgasm. His hand at your chest flew to support himself once again, not able to keep up as his own release began to bear down on him. Once, twice, three more times before you could feel the hot, thick spurts of his own release as it collected at the front of his own underwear where he was pressed against you. Moaning your name, long and low, it would simmer in your mind for days.

He panted against you, chests bumping as you breathed heavily and looked up at him with blissed out eyes and an expression so soft that his heart skipped a beat where it thudded against his ribcage.

Gasping as he lifted his hips away from where they pressed against you, little aftershocks of pleasure rippled over your body. Hands reaching, you pulled the ruined underwear from around your hips and shimmied them off. Din’s helmet immediately turned as he didn’t want to overstep eliciting a soft laugh from you as he took the fabric you shoved against his hand dangling at his side as he stood.

When he went to step away, your expression fell. He must’ve sensed the shift in the air, the hesitancy and nervousness for his departure so soon after such an intimate moment.

“Just gonna go clean up, get you something to change into. Please don’t worry, mesh’la.”

Moments later, he returned to the dark quarters. You had pulled the covers back atop the cot and turned the lights off, getting the space ready for sleep. He skimmed his warm palms up the length of your exposed legs, a damp washcloth in warm against you as he gently wiped away your drying release from between your legs. The fabric of the cloth right against your clit in a brief pass had you gasping out, and he chuckled lowly. He swapped out the cloth for a pair of new underwear in his grip. He tapped the side of your thighs for you to lift your hips and he settled them on you.

Getting situated underneath the covers took a little shifting as you both tried to lay in a way that irritate new injuries. He ended up on his back, not able to lay side by side with you as both your thighs were bandaged opposite each other. You folded yourself over his chest, head resting in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, injured leg thrown over his middle. His heart was beating fast beneath you, and you buried your face into his skin and breathed in deep.

Content, safe, satiated. Everything felt right with the world in that moment.

“I’ve never removed it be with her, I never removed anything.” He spoke quietly into the darkness, his hand gently caressing your hip, not wanting to wake you lest you had fallen asleep. His body was alight with tingles, energy ebbing and flowing over his skin from the realization of what you two had just shared. It had been the most intimate he had ever been with anyone, had ever wanted to be with anyone.

The hum that vibrated into his skin was all the answer he got as sleep pulled him under to rest alongside you.

You stared. Unabashedly.

Maker, you couldn’t help it. You like to think of yourself as having self-control and a good sense of strength but… you were realizing how false those notions were as your eyes remained trained on the sight in front of you. Din was kneeling on the ground in front of an open panel along the floor of the hold. He was leaning slightly into the exposed space, his back arched slightly and his backside suspended in the air. The fabric of his pants was pulled taut over his form in such a way that you couldn’t even begin to decipher the mumbled words falling from the man’s mouth as he fiddled with something.

Desire flared strong in your middle, stretching down to pool between your legs and you felt your mouth go dry. He shifted slightly, leaning forward a bit more and his backside canted up just enough for you to see the barest outline of-

“San!” He called out, making you jump and scramble to look like you were busy. You took a few hurried, quiet steps toward where the crate that doubled as a table was set up and began to gather the mess from yours and adi’ka’s lunch. You didn’t dare turn around, listening intently to the hush of his movements as he extracted himself from the space he had been leaning into behind the paneling.

“San, I was calling for you, didn’t you hear me?” He was suddenly behind you, making you jump slightly.

You were still flushed, which drew his attention to your face.

“Are you alright?”

“Mhm.” You replied simply, not able to face him.

“Why won’t you look at me?” Concern flowed from him, his words soft but holding a tone that booked no argument. Wanting to know if you were alright, for you to be honest with him. You worried for a second if he thought you were having regrets about the night before, but it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that, that had been…wonderful and so enticing. He had been so warm, throbbing against you where you needed him the most, his hands and the sounds bleeding from the helmet as he moved against you…

“San, why you won’t look at me?”

You turned before the words even registered completely, pinning look and desperate eyes on display for him. Unable to hide that you wanted him, even if it was still new. For both of you, a tentative bridge formed between you that you wanted to explore further.

“That’s what’s wrong with me, I was watching you while you were crouching and it- you looked, you looked good okay.” One of the cannisters fell from your grip, nervous energy lighting you up.

He was suddenly in your personal space, you back pressed up against the siding of the hold space. But you didn’t feel threatened, you felt excited. Pulled into his front by a hand snaking around your middle, you looked up at him, the visor glinting in the lights turned on all around.

“You’ve been watching me this whole time?” He rumbled, voice dark as he realized you weren’t injured or sick. That you were turned on, just by looking at him as he did the most mundane things to fill the time of space travel.

“Y-yes, you-you fill out your pants very well.”

“Hmm, never realized.” He tilted his helmet to the side, thoughts swirling around your mind stalling at the adorable motion.

He leaned in, as if he was about to press the front of his helmet to your forehead but he detangled from you instead and was rummaging through an open crate that contained his multitude of tools. You stayed where he had ushered you, body thrumming with the lingering heat of how he had been on you in seconds, of your confession.

“He’s watching, don’t want to scar him.” Din said by way of explanation as he nodded his head toward the open quarters. Adi’ka was in his hammock, head poking out of it and peering at you curiously.

“Din Djarin, you tease!” You tried to hide the smile pulling at your lips, but you knew it was a futile attempt. His chuckle and your light laughter urged adi’ka to giggle his own amusement.

“Ni mirdir vi ru'kir nuhoy o'r te oriya.” You looked over at him briefly, fingers skimming over the tools laid out for sale atop a table, attention captured by the environment that reminded you of the good parts of your childhood. Working on something that interested you, spurred on by the kind and encouraging words of your mother who hadn’t yet turned on you.

I think we should sleep in the city.

“Vi ganar te Crest.”

We have the Crest.

“Vi ganar a prudii, par jaon Tuur'ika jii. Liser’t copad at alorir bic norac.”

We’ve had a shadow, for over an hour now. Don’t want to lead them back.”

“Ni kar’taylir.”

I know.

“Vi ru'kir ve'ganir a yamika, nayc? Hiibir baatir be te prudii. Dinui at jor'adir. A pel haav, nadala skraan, a holo net, nadala pirun…”

We should book a room. To shake off the shadow. A reward to celebrate. Soft bed, fresh food, a holo net, a hot bath…

“Nadala pirun?” Something simmered behind his words, the hint of a promise in yours stirring something in him. The glint in your eye as you successfully negotiated what you wanted, as if he had been willing to turn you down after asking after it. He would give you anything you asked for, you were discovering, as long as it was within reason. Wanting for you to be comfortable and feel like yourself in any way. You were grateful for all that he offered you, for the chance to discover yourself after so long, and who could argue with a night spent in a fancy hotel?

“One with a lot of bubbles and water so hot it steams up the entire fresher.” You finally turned your attention to him, switching back to speaking in Basic, a pair of goggles in your hand. “Maybe I’ll let you join me.”

Walking away from him and back to where the vendor had appeared from the back, leaving him to his thoughts of your offer.

He was unnervingly still the rest of the time spent in the shop, keeping a healthy distance as you talked to the discussed what the pieces you provided were worth, the materials they were made from, the techniques used to create them, all to help him gauge what he could sell them for. He agreed to give you a handsome sum for the pieces you were selling, enough to make you internally question how long it had been since he’d been able to offer this kind of work.

“If you’re ever back this way, don’t hesitate to drop by. My partner and I would be willing to buy whatever you have, the craftsman ship is exquisite, truly.”

You both left the shop, walking side by side through the bustling street, full of people in the midday hour.

“How much did he offer you?”

“Oh, like four thousand per piece? Which is pretty high considering most plated armor goes for about six for a full set, but he liked that it was handmade, the quality of the metal. He really liked the stitching pattern I used to give the pieces more durability that will enhance the longevity of them.”

“I’ve been in the wrong line of work then.”

“Nonsense, how much do you average for a job?”

“Depends on the risk. More often than not, like back on Sorgan, what is offered is enough and then shelter and food are appreciated. Not particular about rates or standards, but the Guild would offer one to two thousand for intermediate quarries.”

“How very admirable of you, burc’ya.”

Friend.

That’s what he was, to you. Perhaps it was a tame way of describing his place in your life. But it was a start, it was comfortable. Being around him, getting to know the intimate parts of each other’s lives, sharing parts of yourselves with each other that no one else knew of. A bond that was growing with each passing day.

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death-munchkin · 6 months

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I have come to the conclusion that there is a very very large overlap in the people who assume that Astarion is "secretly uncomfortable" with a polyam relationship with Halsin and people who a) have zero social awareness, or b) are polyphobic, or c) both. Astarion is not uncomfortable with polyamory, he is uncomfortable participating in sex. Those are two very different things. Astarion is insecure about his ability to be a 'fulfilling' partner to Tav due to his aversion to sex, and that is a perfectly natural fear almost everyone who's ever been repulsed by or reluctant to participate in sex can attest to. My fellow Ace and/or sex repulsed people you should know well how scary it can be to not feel sure that your partner is satisfied. Astarion at no point sounds sad about the proposal, with the exception when specifically asking if it's because he hasn't been putting out enough recently (Note, Astarion and Tav would not have had sex at this point for a wee while), and if Tav reassures him that he is special to them just the way he is, he is genuinely happy.

"But he doesn't enjoy having sex with the Drow twins." My dear sweet child, he explicitly says he's not ready for that yet. At no point does he pretend to be okay with it only to secretly not be. He clearly and firmly says he is not okay with it, and you only get the narration about him seeming empty if you pressure him into it. This does not happen with Halsin. I repeat. This does not happen with Halsin! Astarion never, I repeat NEVER says anything akin to "not being sure" or "I don't know", or "I'm not ready for this" in regards to Halsin's proposition, while he CLEARLY says that about the Drow twins.

Why, you may then ask, is he uncomfortable with the Drow twins but not Halsin? Well, for one, the Drow twins are sex workers. And while in this house we 100% respect love and support all sex workers, they were unfortunately likely targets during his thrall days, and they almost certainly open up some wounds he's not ready to explore yet. Secondly, with the Drow twins he is pressured to participate. Again, Astarion is uncomfortable participating in sex, not with polyamory as a whole. Astarion would be uncomfortable being pressured into basic vanilla christian one on one sex with Tav just as much as he would be uncomfortable being pressured into sex with the Drow twins. That has nothing to do with polyamory. He would not be and is not uncomfortable with Tav having sex with, kissing or flirting with Halsin, as long as he is at no point forced to or pressured to physically participate himself.

Consider why every other character who is against a relationship with Halsin explicitly says so (for those of you who compare Astarion to Karlach, Karlach does explicitly say she is against it.) Consider how every single time Astarion is against something, with the exception of some events in Act 1, he explicitly says so. Consider how Astarion literally does bring up something that concerns him in that very conversation, and clearly states his concerns regarding his own sexual availability, but at no point even hints at being uncomfortable with Tav's romantic/sexual interests. And perhaps consider why you are so intent on having characters be "secretly against polyamory".

Because I will die on the hill that Astarion is a sex repulsed polyam sexual (possibly mono-romantic) pan gremlin of a man. edit to clarify: This post is about people who are insistent on that assumption, as in, refuse to accept that they may be mistaken, or that their assumption is exactly that, an assumption with no direct proof to support it. I don't mind people who headcanon, you live your life I'll live mine, I mind people who assume he's secretly against it, and then state that as fact and canon when it simply isn't, it's a headcanon, an assumption, a plot you would like to believe, NOT something established by direct canon evidence. If you prefer to read him as uncomfortable, that's fine and none of my business. If you prefer to read him as secretly strictly monogamous and either too insecure to speak up or doesn't realize it himself, that's fine and none of my business. Hell, if you draw fanart about it and write a whole ass 100 million word fanfic creating a whole new alternate universe which becomes more popular than the game itself, it's still fine and none of my business. But the second you speak your opinion and assert that it's fact, I have just as much a right to speak my opinion and tell you you're wrong.

#baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldurs gate iii #Astarion #astarion romance #astarion is polyam #I will die on this hill

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assortedseaglass · 9 months

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Borne & Bound - II

[Masterlist]

Aemond Targaryen x OFC

Summary: When Prince Aemond insults the commander of the Braedel cavalry, Viserys sends him to their kingdom so that he may learn the art of diplomacy and do battle with the commander herself, the spirited Lady Geowyth.

Content Warnings: Strong Language, Violence, Smut, Canon-typical Sexism, Mentions of Incest¸ Mentions of Sexual Assault

Word Count: 3.3K

When Geodred Beridan smiled, the apples of his cheeks rose and pinched wrinkles formed around glimmering, beetle-black eyes. The smile was broad and often accompanied by a droll remark or gentle laugh; a shock to those who did not know him, for his broad shoulders and oaken height disguised a gentle-natured and respectable soul whose purpose, so he believed, was to live in kindness and good humour.

As he moved along the Red Keep’s stone walls, many a gentleman stopped to shake his hand in greeting, and many a woman smiled demurely as he passed. The heir to an independent kingdom and commander of their army, he stood tall and sure, feet firmly rooted wherever he found himself. As swift as he was to laugh, he was as quick with the sword. In his presence women found safety and assuredness. Men, counsel and quick wit. In short, when kindly Geodred Beridan had cause for alarm, it was not long before others’ anxiety grew and when he was in a good mood, those around him could not help but join in his merriment. This was most common in the case of his sister.

He found her in her chambers that morning, sat at a small vanity and fixing her hair as a maidservant talked gaily of her time at the Red Keep.

“-mostly, I am with the Princess. She’s ever so gentle. Couldn’t tell you who she takes after,”

Geowyth laughed. “She must be a wonder indeed if she finds herself in your good graces,”

“How do you mean, my Lady?” The young girl was turning down Geowyth’s bed.

“In service of the royal family, you must have seen it all. Every member of this household, the family and those who serve them, at their best and worst. I know I could not see the worst of people and still sing their praises.”

“As I can attest!” Geodred stepped into the room, arms folded across his broad chest. The maidservant curtsied to him. “Is that why I have not had a good word from you since we left Braedel?”

“Alma.” Geowyth addressed the maid. “Spend a week travelling across Westeros with my brother and I promise not even you could find something to defend.” At this, Geodred threw back his head and laughed. Alma smiled nervously. She had been sent to attend Geowyth as she had come with no maid of her own. Indeed, in Braedel the fashions were far simpler and practical than those in the capital and Geowyth had no need of a maid to dress her except in the case of her court duties, wherein any of her uncle’s maids would do. Geodred tutted at his sister and spoke to the young girl.

“Alma, is it?” The girl nodded. “Well, Alma. My sister is to be on her best behaviour during our stay.” Geowyth rolled her eyes and stood from the vanity. “As you seem such a good judge of character, I shall come to you at our visit’s end for a full report.”

“For Alma, I shall be as good as gold.”

Through her giggles, Alma asked if there was anything else the Lady of Braedel needed. At Geowyth’s declination, she excused herself from the room, eyes roaming over Geodred as she did so.

He watched his sister as she moved about the small guest chambers she had been granted. Her dark hair, usually down or plaited simply and been drawn back from her face in ornate braids. One hand fidgeted with the skirt of her burgundy dress as the other ran over the pages of the books open on the table at her bedside. She was muttering under her breath.

“Your hair is different.”

“Is it alright?” She span around, hand flying to check the braids.

“I have never known you to care-”

“Every girl cares. I asked Alma to do it in the Targaryen style.” Geodred nodded at his sister, a sad smile crossing his usually bonny face. Geowyth continued. “We both know that soon you will rule Braedel, and I will take your place as commander. I am fully aware that my attendance at this council is to prove to our uncle, and the rest of the kingdom, that I am capable.”

Geodred took his sister’s hands in his, and together, they made their way from her room towards the council chamber. “Are you nervous?”

“Very.”

“Don’t be. All you have to do is observe.”

“It’s being observed that makes me nervous.” The pair nodded their heads to a passing Maester as they carried on their progress. Geowyth heard from her brother the unmistakable huff of air that gave away his attempt to contain a laugh. “What?”

“As long as you mind your tongue, all you have to do is stand behind me and look pretty. And,” he continued as Geowyth opened her mouth to protest. “If you have anything you wish to say, counsel me first. They do things differently here. Look at Princess Rhaenyra.”

Even in the independent island kingdom of Braedel, tale of the princess’ deposition in favour of her brother sent ripples of fear throughout their society. Even more so when all but three of the Beridan family perished and eyes turned to Geodred and Geowyth, the sickly king’s remaining heirs. Could these children, one of them a girl, rule the kingdom? Perhaps the mainland way was better, do away with the women and leave it to the men.

The two fell silent, haunted by the ghosts of their family, and the task left to them in the wake of their deaths. The closer they edged to the heart of the Red Keep, that is, the Throne Room, a great din of noise fell on their ears. Servants scurried to and fro, preparing the cavernous chamber for the King’s name day feast. Breaking from her brother, Geowyth darted to the open doors. Tables adorned with candelabras, flowers and fabrics ran the length of the hall. Atop the vaulted steps, another table had been drawn across the room, lined with ornate chairs for the royal family. Geowyth counted eleven, twelve including the seat edging the table. It was as she was recounting the names of the royal household in her head that Alma hurried past with a basket of fabric. Catching each other’s eye, Geowyth nodded to the sword-strewn throne at the head of the hall.

“A little over the top, don’t you think?” At this, Alma smirked and hurried to join her fellow maids.

“Geowyth.” Geodred’s face had turned serious. “Widercwedan.” Let’s go. She took her brother’s arm once more they rounded the corner to the council chamber. Many men were already filing in, Lannisters, Baratheons and Hightowers among them.

“Deos forhtlic?” Who’s afraid? Geodred let go of his sister and she settled into place behind him.

“Not I,” she whispered to him, and together they entered the chamber.

Whatever Aemond Targaryen did that day, he could not escape this ghastly feast. Ser Criston was unable to spar with him in the training yard, as all King’s and Queensguard were either with their patrons or on duty. The library was not immune to the hubbub of the castle, and the volume of Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms he sought was missing, alongside the one book with any mention of Braedel. His mother had even forbidden him from riding Vhagar, such was his inclination to assure her he would be back within a few hours, only to return in a few days. And so it was that he found himself at his father’s name day feast, shunted to the end of the royal table, bored stiff by the day’s idleness.

Nobles stood around the royals, chattering excitedly as stewards and footmen removed tables for dancing. The band had not stopped their playing, and a few of the younger noblewomen were already jumping with glee. Indeed, at his own table Rhaena and Lucerys stood hand in hand, ready to lead the evening’s festivities. Aemond watched the boyish red of Lucerys’ cheeks grow as Rhaena inched closer to him. Watched how he beamed at the people below them, and how they smiled back. Saw how his father gazed, misty eyed, at his grandson. The scar beneath Aemond’s eye patch prickled with pain and he pushed his goblet away, no longer inclined to drink. A pale hand closed around the cup, and the chair beside Aemond screeched along the floor as a dead weight fell into it. Aegon raised his eyebrows to his brother and brought the cup to his lips. For a while, neither spoke. They settled instead, to watch their guests.

Jason Lannister was speaking spiritedly to Borros Baratheon, the latter sat somewhere between annoyance and fascination. Ser Tyland, bounced on the balls of his feet in embarrassment. The princes’ Hightower aunts and uncles had already found themselves a seat, watching Alicent with pride or else gossiping with Beesbury and the Tyrell delegation. Aemond sighed. He had not the proclivity for this aspect of royal duty; socialising. Nor dancing, for that matter, but he understood it from the not-so-subtle hints of his mother that enough was enough. The Baratheon girls were terrified of him, and the incessant giggling of the other young noblewomen was driving a headache. Perhaps Helaena would dance with him. Aemond turned his head to see her seat already vacated. Ah. Jacaerys had stolen her to the dancefloor.

The brothers watched her, all sadness fading from her face to be replaced by joy. The hesitancy that had lingered about her since marrying Aegon faded into some semblance of contentment as she danced with her nephew. Under the candlelight, her skin glowed gold and her hair shimmered like spun silk. It buoyed Aemond, to see her happy. When the dance was done, Helaena clapped the band with girlish light-heartedness, and began chatting animatedly to someone at her side. At first, Aemond believed it to be Jacaerys. It was not until his nephew took a step sideways to whisper in the ear of Lucerys however, that Aemond saw Helaena was not speaking to her dance partner, but the young lady of Braedel.

The woman’s hair, though darker than Helaena’s, was similarly styled. The long, frizzy strands of it cascaded down her back, a singular braid keeping it from her face. As they spoke to each other, their hair bustled about them and in the firelight looked like embers and sparks of flame. Where Helaena was bedecked in yellows and golds, the lady by contrast wore blue and bronze, and her eyes, that had rendered Aemond so completely speechless the day before, burned orange. It took Aemond a moment to realise how he could see their extraordinary colour from where he sat, but when Helaena led her towards the royal table, he saw the smearing of charcoal that lined them. Unlike the other ladies of court, who had enhanced their delicate beauty with rouge and powder, this woman had seemingly run her thumb in coal and brushed it across her face. Looking to the where her brother and the rest of her party stood, Aemond saw that they too wore this strange streak of black across their eyes.

“Are you not going to ask about the council?” Aegon had finished another cup and was growing bored of Aemond’s silence.

“As you are going to tell me, I see no need.” Still, he watched his sister and her companion. They approached the top table and Helaena took a seat next to her brother-husband. The Braedel woman curtsied before the king and queen, uttered something to which Viserys smiled, and made her way towards Helaena’s outstretched hand. She curtsied to the princes, Aegon briefly nodding in acknowledgement, and settled by the princess.

Over Aegon’s increasingly slurred babbling about the council, Aemond watched Geowyth. Though their voices were low, the two women spoke quickly, Helaena most of all and Geowyth’s eyes shone as she listened. Aemond noted that when Helaena momentarily withdrew, Lady Geowyth leant closer, or else held her hand near his sister’s in encouragement. Never had he seen Helaena so open with a stranger.

“- council’s just a load of old wankers trying to beat each other off, in more ways than one-”

The two women laughed at something. Helaena’s light like a bell peal, Geowyth’s hearty like her brother. Something akin to gladness settled over Aemond.

“-Aemond is a far better rider than Aegon or I, I think.” Every sense in Aemonds’ body keened. At Helaena’s words, Geowyth glanced to him. She smiled brightly as their eyes connected. Aemond looked away. Damn.

“- and it’s a wonder grandsire made mother marry father. You’d think, with the way he carries on, it would have been him in the wedding dress.”

“Aegon, please.” Aemond was finally starting to enjoy the day, intrigued by the woman before him. The last thing he needed was Aegon’s vulgarity.

“-though I must say, Lady Geowyth, the council was made much easier by your presence.”

Aemond’s head snapped up. Surely not. Was Aegon so drunk he couldn’t tell the tired old council from young noblewomen? His eyes flickered to Geowyth, shock shadowing his sharp features when he saw that the lady was smiling.

“I shall whisper it, for I don’t want to offend the court,” Geowyth leaned forward, eyes gleaming from beneath a curtain of hair. “But you must not have had a great deal of good company if you found my presence pleasant.” She punctuated her statement with a wink at Aegon as Aemond found his voice.

“You were at the council?” Geowyth smiled at him in gentle affirmation. “Why?”

Geowyth had not expected the bluntness of his query, but knew that sooner or later questions from the rest of the court would follow the council. Indeed, even some council members, namely a certain golden-haired lord, asked King Viserys the question as Geowyth flanked her brother’s seat at the table. She turned to the young prince, serious but still smiling and said simply, “I am my brother’s heir.”

“But second in line to the throne?” It sounded more like a question than a statement, a hesitant ponderance, as though he were trying to solve one of Helaena’s riddles.

“Yes, but with our uncle so unwell-”

“-and your brother is to marry soon, is he not?”

Realisation dawned on Geowyth. “Your Grace, Geodred is indeed to marry, and he and Folchild will rule well together. But if all those above us will it, he will have heirs long before our forebears take him. No, when our uncle dies and Geodred assumes his position as King, someone will need to take his place as commander of the renward.”

“I’m sorry?” The words were sharper than Aemond intended. The slight aghast shake of his head as he spoke irked Geowyth, but she clarified her meaning nonetheless.

“I will take my role as commander of the cavalry.”

“You?”

“Yes?”

“A woman?”

“Yes.” Though her voice was indignant, Geowyth felt she had been slapped. A clap of laughter escaped Aegon as his eyes darted between his brother and Geowyth with glee. Beside her, Helaena picked at the skin on her palm. Despite only being mere inches shorter than Aemond, Geowyth felt herself shrink. Already, the doubts of the kingdom were knocking at Braedel’s door. She steeled herself against the fire glowing in her chest. “I know it is hard to believe, Your Grace, when your dear cousin and sister were swept aside so easily. But that is not how things are done in Braedel.”

The hall became chill. Aemond was certain a gust of wind had ripped through the chamber and he looked briefly around. Nothing was changed. The guests were revelling in the royal splendour. His siblings were still at his side, one nervous and one neurotic. But when he looked back at the lady before him, he found the source of his discomfort. The light of nearby candles flickered in her amber eyes, and something of the would-be warrior woman haunted her face. Seven Hells. He tried to recover. Not to sound like a bitter child or obnoxious ass, but interested.

“And do you find yourself to be as adequate a rider and swordsmith as your brother?”

“Would you ask the same of your dragon riding sisters?”

“Sister.” His voice was firm.

“Pardon?”

“She is no sister of mine.” He grew silent, and Geowyth didn’t need to ask which sister he meant. She’d seen how he’d looked at Helaena. How he was looking at Princess Rhaenyra now, across the hall. Her eyes followed his and, as they scanned the crowded hall, landed upon her brother. He would make a good king. He could sense trouble, for he was looking at Geowyth with a mixture of assessment and warning. “Deos forhtlic,” she heard him say. It would not do to make enemies of the King’s children on the second day of her visit. Swallowing whatever retort was pressing against her lips, Geowyth tried a different tac.

“Do you dance, Your Grace? Perhaps you will join the princess and I in the next? I have seen many a girl looking hopef-”

“You’ll note, my Lady, that I only have one eye.” Aemond cut her off before she could finish and he was astonished when she began to laugh.

“Do you dance in circles?”

Aegon laughed louder than he had all evening, the wine in his goblet slopping onto the table. A little of the red splashed the sleeve of Aemond’s doublet and he looked down slowly. When his eye returned to Geowyth’s, it was cold and unamused. He looked down his eagle nose at her, steadying his feet as though readying for a fight, and Geowyth found herself breathless at the power that suddenly radiated from him. For the first time in her life, she felt truly small. She turned to Helaena. The princess had resumed the picking of her hands, her shoulders stooped and mouth downturned. She would not look at her new companion. Without a dance partner, and her pride decidedly dashed, Geowyth retreated into the crowd towards her fellow horse lords. Aemond’s gaze followed her, body humming with embarrassed rage.

“Shame you weren’t born in Braedel, brother.” Aegon slapped Aemond on the back as he made to hunt a more rakish kind of revelry. “You’ll just have to make do with being my spare.” Aegon made his drunken trail through the crowd. The newcomers bowed before him. Those used to court life at the Red Keep turned away, among them Ser Westerling and the princess of Dragonstone. Ser Harrold was deep in serious conversation with the Braedel beast Herumbrand, no doubt discussing military strategy and their glory days, and as Aemond watched them his Targaryen blood ran cold. For beside the guardsmen stood Rhaenyra, smiling at the guard who had always favoured her, and Lady Geowyth, her eyes bright with self-satisfaction as with a laugh, she turned away from him.

Notes: Split this in two so I could get a chapter out.The first sentence begins the same way a Far From the Madding Crowd. I love Thomas Hardy and I think his description of character is amazing, so I used it as a way to open the chapter.

In this world, Vizzy T is still alive, and Rhaenyra was ousted as heir when Aegon was born. I’ve said before that this will not be a canon compliant story. The background of the Beridan family and why Braedel keeps to itself will be revealed soon. Sorry it's taking so long, I'm not myself at the moment - will correct any mistakes when I've had a good night's sleep. Hilde x

Renward = horseguard/cavalry

Tags: @arcielee @mefools @bladeofdreadfort @glitterandgoldfinds @heimtathurs @ewanmitchellcrumbs @babyblue711 @wingeddeliciouscanonrebel @greenowlfactif @fantasias-creativebubble @httyd-marauders @sirenangelroyal

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen x oc #house of the dragon #hotd #borne and bound #aemond one eye #aemond kinslayer

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inquebrar · 2 months

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sighing deeply and here we go again... i didn't think i would talk about this but this time it happened in one of my posts so i'll try to explain something from the point of view of someone who is aspec myself.

from the moment q!Cellbit got into a relationship with q!Roier before the wedding, there was a lot of talk about the honeymoon and q!Cellbit always made it clear by replying "i don't feel interested in that" "i don't like" "i don't do these things" and then this gave us a beautiful scene (which could easily not have happened if it wasn't important to the character) where q!Roier listens to q!Cellbit explaining that he would like them to sleep together but that he will not have sex and asked if there was any problem with that, then we had a moment of understanding and acceptance that only strengthened their marriage.

after that moment there were several other situations where it's clear that q!Cellbit's asexuality is not something superficial and used only as a meaningless label, but since then many people have started to make disrespectful comments, with misinformation and even contradictory to what was being said. no one ever said that q!Cellbit is the definition of asexuality as a whole, but to say that he is a character that brings us asexual representativity is no harm at all, being queer embraces many things and within the lgbtqia+ community there are various spectrums of sexuality and gender identity. there are people who are asexuals who also identify as aromantic but there are people who are only aromantic, they're two different things that can sometimes be together or not, in the same way that there are asexuals who experiences sexual attraction under specific conditions, some are strict asexuals, some experiences sexual attraction more or less, others are sex-repulsed others can have sex even without feeling sexually attracted and there are still many other variations and spectrums, and they are all valid and real.

to have a character who is canonically married and talks about not being interested in sex, is far from being something stereotypical. i have literally never had any representativity like that, especially because it's a big issue "not having sex is a sign of a failed marriage/relationship" now imagine that in a gay relationship. a character doesn't need to constantly remind people "hello! i'm asexual" and carry the flag for people to take it seriously, also many scenes that involve a better understanding of q!Cellbit being on the asexual spectrum he's speaking in portuguese so to people who don't speak this language lose a lot of context and subtle moments because that's how it really happens. and in general, if you want to have a headcanon that he's not asexual or you just don't think he is, i just ask, please be more respectful, it's great to receive asexual representativity in different ways, through different characters on different spectrums! let people feel joy and show appreciation, celebrate and just be happy.

your sexuality is valid and having a character that makes you feel happy and gives you a representativity that you've never had before and to have moments where you can relate is incredible! so please, if you are going to make negative comments or complaints that may make people uncomfortable, please use "neg" or "discourse" tags and don't do that on reblogs that have nothing related to negativity or stuff like that, always keep in mind to be respectful, please, it's not too much to ask 🙂

#qsmp #qsmp cellbit #q!cellbit #q!roier #asexuality is a spectrum it's always good to remember that

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saintsenara · 1 month

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For the Love Your Fandom Asks 3 and 4 please!

thank you very much for the ask, anon. lovely choices from the love your fandom ask game...

3. who is a character that fandom has helped you appreciate?

sigh. i can hear @whinlatter cackling from here.

ginny weasley.

i've never found ginny a hugely interesting character in her canon form - nor hinny a hugely interesting canon ship - not because i think there's anything particularly wrong with either but because ginny feels so underdone within the narrative and i don't find the fact that all of her major character development happens offscreen particularly compelling.

and i've also always had a wee bit of beef with ginny's treatment in fan spaces - i don't like the way she's treated by lots of fics which want to break her and harry up [which just make her a sort of raving, gold-digging harpy], of course, but i also don't like the fact that so much writing about her turns her into either a #girlboss who hates her mam or into a bang-maid who exists only as a tool for harry's self-actualisation. but, y'know, in a twee way.

but there's - as there is with everyone in the books - some really interesting stuff which i have always been aware lurks in ginny's character arc - especially her slightly vindictive streak and, given my interests, what she actually thinks of tom riddle - but which i'd never taken the time to particularly care about.

enter whinlatter, who is a paid-up defender of ginny, but - crucially - a paid-up defender of ginny as a bit of a flop. her takes on her as a character - especially her inability to open up and her tendency to deflect questions about what she's feeling - and on her various relationships - especially the fact that she's one of the few hinny fans i've seen really dig into the fact that harry's "protection" of ginny isn't romantic but intensely paternalistic [and also her defence of the legend that is molly weasley] - are things i find really valuable to think and to talk about and to integrate into my own writing and worldbuilding.

she's also unfailingly generous intellectually - there's lots she and i continue to disagree on when it comes to her girl, but I've never found her anything other than delighted to bicker about these things - and i will never stop doing an evil little chuckle when i see myself quoted in the author's notes for beasts.

4. say something nice about a ship you don't ship

at their cores, every single ship - no matter how implausible; no matter how beholden to fanon; no matter how out-of-character - comes down to the same thing: that love [platonic or romantic] and desire [platonic or sexual] and human connection is strange and unpredictable, that it may look very different to very different people, and that it is universal.

i dislike numerous ships because i think they're rarely done in ways i find interesting - things like jegulus, wolfstar, dramione, and harmony chief among them - but i respect that they have this fundamental basis in the baffling power of love.

and that they also recognise that fandom is meant to be fun - and that making two hotties kiss in a way they wouldn't do in canon is a time-honoured way of having that fun. shipping really shouldn't be deep, and - despite the reputation the harry potter fandom has for endless beefing over shipping preferences - i am delighted by the sheer number of my fandom friends who think the same way.

[other answers from this ask game]

#asks answered #love your fandom asks

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 7 months

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PROPAGANDA

KATHERINA MINOLA (THE TAMING OF THE SHREW) (CW: Domestic Abuse)

1.) We had to read this for English my senior year. I got so mad at the way she's treated. She's the titular "shrew" of the play. She has to be married off before her younger sister can get married, because that makes sense.

Then the most dogshit man imaginable comes along, and everybody thinks they're perfect. He literally gaslights her and denies her food and water.

Fuck Petruchio and Katherine Minola deserved better!

2.) Literally the whole play is about how she is so awful that the main guy needs to change her entire personality, which he does as a challenge not because he likes her, and then proceeds to her abuse her for the rest of the play. Yet, he is portrayed as the hero, not a villain and she is shown to have "improved" at the end. People will say, oh it's open to interpretation, it can be played different ways, it's satire, but i don't find abuse funny and there is a distinct lack of commentary in the play to count as satire imo. Taming of the Shrew is a tragedy not a comedy, I will die on this hill. Kate deserves better!

3.) The title isn’t joking, ya’ll. She literally gets broken like a rebellious feral animal and it’s treated as a happy ending.

BARBARARA GORDON (DC COMICS) (CW: Ableism)

1.) Famously fridged in 1988, which was so popular with misogynists it became canon. After almost 2 decades of being one of the only disabled characters, was rebooted to a younger, more fun version of herself whose only history is that she was fridged but not disabled by it.

2.) The Killing Joke is one of the biggest comic examples of a female character getting hurt to motivate male characters. Also tbe way different cannons will trade off who her romantic intrest is out of Batfamily is pretty disturbing ranging from Bruce Wayne in Batman the Animated series universe (ew) to Tim Drake in the Arkham games (ew). Not to mention DC now is not letting her grow out of being Batgirl taking away her legacy of other young female heroes taking up her mantle and her getting to mentor them instead forcing her into a Batgirl cycle of purgatory when she was always better as Oracle (Its a little more complicated in the new Batgirl book but its still not solving the issues in a way that feels meaningful enough to make up the damage).

3.) Was shot as angst value for Bruce and her dad, implied to be sexually assaulted in The Killing Joke with absolutely no respect for her long career as Batgirl. When Alan Moore asked if he could, the editor said "cripple the bitch." She became paralyzed from the waist down. THankfully, an actually good writer picked her up from there and then wrote one of the best stories ever written (Oracle Year One: Born from Hope). Was one of the most iconic disabled characters in comic book history, hell, as Oracle, she was definitely up there as one of the most iconic disabled characters ever as well as a fantastic character, period. There were a few moments where people kept trying to make things out of her disability and had her be shitty to other women for no reason but for the most part, she was awesome. During her time In 2011, Dan Didio and some other misogynistic/ableist comic book writers were responsible for "curing" her disability and forcing her back into Batgirl, despite her having shown absolutely no desire to do so, as part of the New 52. They also made it an editorial mandate that she couldn't have glasses, a cool secret base, and her time as Oracle couldn't be referenced. This was because those writers were nostalgic for the 60s Batman show where Babs was played by an actress they all had the hots for and couldn't accept she'd grown up and moved on. That was bad enough, but over time, she's been increasingly deaged and reduced even further to just Dick Grayson's on and off again girlfriend and a generic girlboss. Batgirl of Burnsides burn in hell.

#polls #round 1 #week 2 #new #cw domestic abuse #cw ableism

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renthony · 8 months

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hi! i would genuinely love to read your essay (?) on queerjack horseman

Hahahaha, I'm gonna have to finally actually write it! I have soooo many notes. I even sat down and did an episode-by-episode breakdown with all my observations--not just about BoJack himself being queer, but also queerness in the show overall.

I posted an excerpt before (you can read it here), but here are a few more of my observations:

BoJack says he was forced by his father to "cry to Cole Porter records." Cole Porter was a closeted gay man married to a woman to protect his identity. This is the first of several lines that point to Butterscotch as a potentially queer man in denial, actively trying to suppress his own queerness, which Butterscotch projects on BoJack in turn.

BoJack immediately asks Herb how gay sex works after Herb comes out, mentioning that he would be "doing it all the time" if he was gay.

BoJack considers Kelsey Jannings' films to be genuinely good even before meeting her--and, in his words, "not just because they're full of lesbians." BoJack has canonically seen and enjoyed queer films.

BoJack talks about the in-universe show "Krill and Grace" being "important representation for krill people." The real-world show "Will and Grace" is important in the history of queer representation on American television.

In Season 5, Episode 7, the story is told by a married lesbian couple discussing their respective workdays. One is a therapist and the other is a corporate mediator. All of the show's core cast are given different identities for the duration of the episode, because the wives are protecting the anonymity of their clients. BoJack's girlfriend Gina is the ONLY character to change gender in this episode, being portrayed as a man named Gino. Gino asks BoJack if he wants to have sex and references using birth control, meaning that Gino, for the duration of this episode, is portrayed as a trans man whom BoJack is actively in a sexual relationship with.

#bojack horseman #original post #q and a

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no-psi-nan · 1 month

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[Context]

Ok @fluffydice, sorry for the lateness on this one but as anyone following this blog for over 5 minutes probably knows, I think Aiura x Saiki x Akechi makes so much sense and it is insanely compelling to me. I've posted so much fanfic about it already and that's only like 20% of the Thoughts™ I've had about them tbh.

But when you're doing an analysis of a triad, you have to breakdown 3 different ships and also how they would work simultaneously, so I needed time to write it all up. Buckle in!

Let's talk about Saiki x Aiura first since they had the most screen time together and they're the most "canon". I was genuinely shocked to see how rare this pairing is in fandom when they're literally canonically soulmates and also actually prove it on their every interaction.

From their very first meeting, Aiura and Saiki work together flawlessly to save Yumehara's life many times in a row + the life of the truck driver. Aiura then figures out how to hang out with Saiki without having to deal with his tsundere rejection, which he can leave at any time (unlike with Teruhashi) because she knows about his powers and won't stir up trouble if he leaves. Saiki keeps allowing her to schedule 1:1 dates and is basically like "don't bother asking me, you know I'll go" about the dessert buffet date lol.

Even when they disagree and neither of them will back down, they still work wonderfully together and they both end up learning and growing from it. Saiki trusts Aiura to help him, and Aiura always agrees to help him just because she cares. That's HUGE considering how hard it is for Saiki to ask for literally anything!!

Aiura also respects Saiki's boundaries more than anyone else imo. She only joins him when he's out in public, she tries her usual heavy-handed flirting at first but quickly adjusts when she realizes he's not into it, she puts her clothes back on immediately after realizing that she misunderstood the situation, she starts asking him out instead of just joining him, she asks for a kiss and respects his "no", and she hugs him anyways because they both really need it after the stress of the day.

And Saiki responds to that, opening up more with Aiura than he has with anyone else in way less time. Aiura had under 2 years with Saiki while Saiki's core friend group had like 6 years, and yeah, she benefited some from his character growth over the past 4 years. But still, the way he banters with her shows how comfortable he is– he's more open with her than with anybody else, and not just with his annoyance like he is with Toritsuka lmao.

Also, come ON, there's just no one more deserving of an epic husband/wife local god with transformation powers than Aiura. She works so hard with her powers to help everyone and convinces Saiki to help others more and she helps him get the best outcomes for everyone. Let her get her hands on her soulmate who can make her bi dreams come true, who can give her third eye a break from constantly seeing auras and death marks, who can grow big fluffy wings to hug her with, etc etc etc!!!!! LET HER HAVE SOME FUN FFS!!

There's wayyyy more people forcing Aiura into the platonic bucket with Saiki than I've seen with Teruhashi (even though Aiura has way better chemistry with Saiki), which forces me to wonder whether it's because Aiura is more overtly sexual and "lowbrow" than Teruhashi, showing more cleavage, getting bad grades, putting stickers on her face because they're cute, showing pride in her sexual escapades. None of those make her a bad person, but a lot of people seem to think it does.

Some people more reasonably point out that if Saiki is very asexual and Aiura has a high libido then that could cause trouble for them. Well, first of all, while Saiki is pretty much obviously somewhere in the asexual and aromantic spectrum, his belief that boyfriend is the next level after best friend shows that demiromantic / demisexual is a strong possibility for him. And honestly I'd argue that whatever he has going on with Satou is at least partially sexual, though I'm not going to get into that in this already long-ass post lol.

But basically, I think there's a lot of room for a demiromantic and graysexual interpretation of Saiki and considering that Aiura has apparently stopped going out with other men for at least 2 years with no ill effects that we can see, it's quite possible that they'll be very compatible in bed after all. And if not, that's where consensual non-monogamy comes in lol. But genuinely I think that the fact that they're soulmates means that there probably aren't any major incompatibilities between them, otherwise the term would be meaningless.

So yeah, makes sense and really compelling because there's so much room for stories on how they actually got together, how they work together as their powers continue growing, and what their future looks like!

OKAY, now it's time for the Saikechi essay lol.

Actually, I don't think Saikechi needs a ton of justification, because it's kinda standard extrovert x introvert childhood friends to lovers lol. Saikechi only isn't more popular because Akechi appears for like 5 whole minutes in the undubbed second season of the anime and he was annoying for 90% of that time hsfjdlshfks rip.

But yeah, Akechi and Saiki are quite perfect together, as shown by the horse gambling episode. Akechi can see right through Saiki's tsundere facade and Akechi is extremely open about his wants and needs, which is important since Saiki can't properly understand his thoughts most of the time and is very bad at figuring that stuff out even with telepathy.

They're both some flavor of ace. Akechi offu's at Teruhashi and comments that she's the most beautiful women he's ever seen, but does not express wanting to date her, which is big ace vibes, plus he's one of the few characters that doesn't have anything to say about Aiura's boobs lol (even Teruhashi can't shut up about them). They're also similar flavors of highly intelligent + neurodivergent. Consider Akechi's analysis skills vs Saiki's ability to come up with dozens, if not hundreds of plans in extremely short notice.

Akechi is also great at making accommodations for Saiki's powers, even without knowing about all of them, and coming up with activities they can do together that will be equally fun and challenging for both of them! And I still love that it was Akechi showing Saiki what a fun low-stakes game can be like that basically repaired Kusuo's relationship with his brother (see: manga, as this was cut from the anime 😩).

It's a very nice and straightforward ship that still leaves a lot of room for fun stories. I've been dying to write a Saikechi frogboil (plotted but needs writing) just because Akechi would be so perfect at it and he would be very likely to approach Saiki that way to get around all the tsundere bullshit lol.

OKAY, now for the third leg of the triangle lol, Aiura and Akechi!!

(couldn't find an anime gif of this moment which is SO SAD)

Let's be real, Akechi and Aiura only share 5 moments on screen: the intro with all the chibis, when Aiura checks out his aura, when Aiura & Toritsuka kidnap him, the competition to find Saiki's hanky, and Akechi pestering Aiura about dress code violations in the every-character-appears episode. And 3 of those scenes are from the same chapter lmao.

Actually I think this ⬆️ scene is kinda cute because Akechi's teasing Aiura lol, I think he's being friendly in his little freak way <3

HOWEVER, if shipping was only about what we saw on screen, then it would be way more boring. So let's think about it!

Aiura and Akechi actually share a lot of similarities: they're both extroverts, they're both incomprehensible, they are both almost immune to lies, they have both have a drive to help other people including strangers, and they're both seeking someone who will love and understand them as they are.

They would just make a really great fit! Akechi could help with Aiura's fortune-telling by prompting better questions for her to ask, and Aiura might actually make Akechi's mystery-solving TOO easy, so she probably holds back on that one lol. Akechi would throw himself wholeheartedly into working against a death mark on a stranger.

They're so fun to think about too because neither of them is embarrassed easily at all and they're both completely in touch with their own feelings so they are going to be SO lovey-dovey, no matter how cringe it seems on the outside lmao.

Akechi seems like he'd love doing traditional courtship if given half the chance, and Aiura seems like she's mostly had one-night-stand kind of situations until now, so what a perfect opportunity to indulge! What a change for Aiura to date someone who respects her and isn't just after her body! What a change for Akechi to date someone who actually wants to hear what he has to say and isn't put off by his frankness around taboo topics!

They'd pick up phrases from each other and develop so many ridiculous in-jokes that become their own sort of language, which makes them both even more incomprehensible.

We do also run into the allosexual x asexual problem here but Akechi is so unbothered by bodily functions and so quick to find compromises and enrichment that I genuinely think he'd kind of turn that into a game lmao.

And I think Akechi would be down to start a family and give his kid(s) the kind of loving home he never really got to enjoy with his parents' ongoing domestic turmoil. And their kid(s) would be sooooooooo incomprehensible, bless. 🙏🏾 Raised by 1.5 psychic parents and sprinkling both terminally online lingo and academia-level terminology into their speech from day 1. Imagine...

So Aikechi definitely gets the A+ on making sense and being compelling here!

Which FINALLY brings us back around to the main question... Does Aiura x Saiki x Akechi make sense, and is it compelling?

Well, obviously I think so, since I've posted so much about it lol.

I think the main question for the viability of this ship is whether Saiki would be comfortable with polyamory, since Aiura and Akechi are unconcerned enough with social norms that they'd probably have no problem with it.

After some time getting used to the thought that he will never have the veneer of normal he's always wanted to project and that the pleasures of living authentically far outweigh the pains of being different, I think Saiki would actually love having his best friends as lovers and not having to choose only one person.

After all, most of his struggle is about lack of connection and his alienation from humanity. Well, here are Akechi and Aiura, who respectively mirror his lonely childhood and growing up with uncontrollable powers. They're both clever enough to see through his tsundere bullshit, they're both happy and able to help him with his powers & duties to save others, and they will both stand up to him if he's wrong or letting something slide to avoid conflict.

They're both perfect for him! And Akechi and Aiura would be much happier sharing him than trying to make him choose between them since they also get along so well. And let's be real, Saiki definitely deserves to be loved by the two people who know him the best. 💜

There's also a lot of story potential for how this ends up happening. In Extra Love Stories of Psychics, Saikechi and Saiura are basically happening in parallel and the Aikechi will close in the loop in a few chapters. But in Didn't see this one coming, I wanted to focus on Aikechi, so they get together and are basically ready for Saiki to finish his character growth and join whenever lmao.

You could also have them as like a hero team of lovers if you want more action-y plots, though tbh it's really hard to come up with situations they wouldn't immediately solve lol rip.

Another nice thing about Aiura, Akechi and Saiki being together is that Aiura and Akechi get a chance to help each other overcome some of Saiki's limitations, and the stuff they can't work around, Akechi and Aiura can do together.

An easy example is hand-holding. Changing Saiki's gloves to another texture is all well and good but sometimes you want to touch skin to skin, and it's much more overwhelming than calming for Saiki to do that. Akechi and Aiura can hold each other's hands without gloves though, and while it's not the same as holding Saiki's, it helps a lot to fulfill that desire.

Also, it's almost impossible for Aiura to surprise Saiki because he can read her thoughts, but while Akechi can probably figure out that she's planning something in general, she would have a much easier time surprising him. And similarly, since Saiki can't properly read Akechi's mind and doesn't have too much emotional intelligence, Akechi has to openly communicate his needs with Saiki all the time, which isn't a problem for him. But it's really nice when Aiura can tell from his aura or from her own emotional intelligence what Akechi wants/needs without having to explain himself. And even if Saiki can literally hear Aiura's thoughts, Akechi is still better at responding to her feelings because he's not tsundere and he actually understands feelings and what to do about them.

Additionally, Aiura has said she wants to be a mother, and while Saiki's affection for kids indicates to me that he wouldn't mind having kids, I think that he would be VERY opposed to passing on his genes due to how much trouble his powers have caused him. And Aiura's genes also are probably loaded with psychic powers! But if Akechi is there, then he can knock up Aiura no problem since he doesn't seem to have any psychic powers, and then the three of them can have their own family <3 Plus all the shenanigans that comes with having 2.5 psychics (and maybe more!) under one roof!

In conclusion, they're perfect, your honor!!

Also I probably should've been writing more fic of them instead of writing this novel XD XD

Thanks for the ask!!

#notes to nopsi #saiki k #saiki no psi nan #sknpn #the disastrous life of saiki k.#tdlosk #nopsi meta #akechi touma #aiura mikoto #saiki kusuo #saiura #saiki x aiura #mikosai #saikechi #saiki x akechi #aikechi #Aiura x Akechi #sense & compel meme

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