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hetalianskywalker · 1 month

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The Bad Batch Prompt Event!

End of Avoidence

Summary: You find Commander Wolffe asleep on your couch after a night at 79s.

Authors Note: Thank you @arctrooper69 making this event. I did the SFW prompt with Commander Wolffe x reader. The prompt is in bold. I had wanted to do the NSFW prompt, but the anxiety won out. Hope you all enjoy this instead.

Nickname for reader: Corvid-meaning a crow/raven. Partly based of the special relationship Ravens and Wolves have in the wild.

Warnings: Cursing and I’m pretty sure that’s it.

Word Count: 1225

Thank you for reading!

“Commander Wolffe?” You lean against the door frame in between your bedroom and the living room of your Coruscant apartment. You blink, making sure that you weren’t imagining things. Low and behold, your commanding officer was still half asleep on the couch.

His mismatched eyes give you a half glare as he sits up. You quickly glance him over, noticing the top half of his armor resting on the chair next to him. You both remain at this weird stand off before you sigh and head to the kitchen.

“Caf?” You call over your shoulder. You begin making the pot before you get an answer from him. You had seen the amount of caf Wolffe could go through when he had flimsiwork to do after a large battle or rescue mission.

You are the head engineer for the 104th. Usually your job would go to a clone, but after most of the battalion had been lost near the start of the war you had been recruited instead. Something or other about the Kaminoans at the time needing to train more engineers.

It had been weird at first being the only natural born on an entire Star Destroyer other than General Plo Koon and an occasional visit from Admiral Coburn. However, you grew to enjoy the company of the clones around you and they all seemed to get along with you. Apart from two that is and one of those was a recent development.

You can see Wolffe walk into your kitchen and sit down at your small table. While he doesn’t say anything, you turn just in time to see him take in a whiff of your brewing high grade caf. He almost smiles.

“I’ll take that as a yes on the caf than, Commander.” You state, unable to stop the smug smile from spreading across your face. Falling back on the jabs and glares that were the foundation for the majority of the conversations you had with him before whatever falling out had happened.

The trance of good smelling caf is broken as he now focuses his eyes on you and fully frowns, but still nods. You turn back to the caf, reminded once again that something had happened to change his opinion of you. You had no idea what though. At first he seemed to enjoy the banter with you until he started out right avoiding you a few months back. At least with the battalion’s CMO, you knew exactly why you two didn’t get along; you had a tendency of trying to take care of your own wounds yourself.

Actually for someone who can’t seem to stand me, how the hell did he end up on my couch? The thought hits you like a tidal wave as the caf machine beeps and you pour the two cups. You take them to the table and hand Wolffe his. You quietly add your extras in, once again trying to figure out why Wolffe was in your apartment, as he quietly enjoys his caf black.

“I don’t dislike you.” He breaks through your spiraling thoughts as you look up at him from your now much lighter caf.

“Since when?” You want to smack yourself when the unfiltered response reaches the open air.

“Since we met,” Wolffe snaps back. “Alright, Corvid.” You didn’t know how to respond to that. Both with the confession and the nickname most of the Wolfpack referred to you as. You were often perched in high places on the Star Destroyer when troops found you during any off time, wore mostly black when not in uniform, and you had somehow become a kind of safe house for Wolfpack contraband, which were mostly harmless things. Since most of your conversations recently had been unavoidable and professional, you hadn’t heard him call you that in months.

“You go down a different hall the moment you see me, how exactly am I supposed to take that, Wolffe?” It comes out far more resigned than the anger you wanted and he doesn’t deny it. “What brought this on anyway?”

“I overheard you tell a batch of shinies at 79’s that I hated you.” It’s the wrong answer to the wrong question, but it gives you information you wanted none the less. The heat rushes to your face and you watch him smirk. Fuck. You resist a very powerful urge to bang your head against the table. Cause if he heard that then he probably heard what your tipsy ass had said after that. At least you hadn’t been completely drunk and totally made a fool of yourself.

When he doesn’t say anything, your shoulders relax in relief. No hangover and he didn’t hear the more embarrassing half of that conversation. Today might actually be an okay day.

“Still doesn’t explain why you are on my couch.” You grumble as you take a sip of your slowly cooling drink.

“I came by to check that you got home alright and I wanted to talk to you. And you invited me in.” You nearly spit out your caf.

“I did not.”

“You were half asleep. You told me to spend the night with how late it was and waved at the couch.” Wolffe pauses before giving you a sharp smirk. “Besides, you wouldn’t rat out your favorite.”

“I totally play favorites. Mine just so happens to also hate me. Kriff, I’m fucking pathetic and toxic as hell, but oh well. You only live once.” You had raised a glass and the shinies had seemed to get a good laugh out of your self deprecating jokes. The memory makes your stomach churn.

No, he definitely heard the entire conversation with the shinies. Great, just fucking great.

“You’re the worst.” You growl.

“Yeah well you still like me.” The smug response makes you want to scream. But you're suddenly hit with the fact that he’s not rejecting you.

You inspect him for a moment; your mind trying to put together some other explanation for this situation. Wolffe smirks again as he sets his now empty cup down. Your thoughts take a carnal turn for a moment, having never seen his top half with just his blacks on up close. You shake them away as a new surge of anger comes through.

“Why did you avoid me then? I was trying to figure out for mouths why the fuck…”

“I thought avoiding you would end it. But it seemed to just make it worse for both of us apparently.” He cuts you off and you take a second to digest the words. It’s quiet for too long.

“And that was a mistake.” It’s not quite an apology, but he says it like it’s one. You open your mouth to except the peace offering.

“I’m sorry.” The genuineness of it soothes your remaining anger.

“Thank you.” As you say it, most of the tension finally leaves your kitchen.

“So what happens now?” Wolffe smirks again at the question as he leans in close.

“Well Corvid, you said we only live once.” You blush and stare at one another a quick moment before his hands gently rest on the sides of your face. He glances at your mouth and back at your eyes. A silent question.

You nod. A silent response earns you a kiss you have wanted and waited to long for.

#tbbpromptevent #star wars #tcw #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader

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insult-2-injury · 1 year

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A Worthy Distraction

Header by my wonderful and talented friend @drawlypsy. Please go check out their work, they're fucking amazing.

AO3 Link NSFW Dottore/femReader, murder couple, dirty talk, fingering, questionable coping mechanisms, over the pants feelies, villains will be villains, trauma

[This is a Genshin OC one-shot I wrote for friends and then rewrote into a reader insert. Some tenses and stuff may be a little wonky here and there, but I think I caught most of it. It is only a tad OC-centric, as reader does have a backstory, but it's minor and shouldn't make a difference. Idk. There's smut.]

The lowdown: reader has anemo vision w/ pyro delusion, has one metal claw hand and PTSD to match

~~~~~~

You lay on your side, sprawled out across an uncomfortable-looking exam table like a cat in a patch of sun, yawning and stretching as you awoke from a short nap. Head twitching to the side, Dottore acknowledged your entry into the waking world with a rigid nod and a tiny quirk of his lips, something that could almost be categorized as a rigid smile, before turning back to the subject on his table.

You shot him a cheeky grin, unruly tufts of your hair falling across your face as you did so. Your socked foot tapped a rhythm onto the metal beneath, warm now with the prolonged heat of your body. Your head thumped back against the metal… Bored. So bored.

Archons, you were just as ambitious as he when it came to testing out new ideas and just as prone to getting lost for hours in the mental process of it all. But he had been at this experiment for days, barely sleeping, hardly eating. Your best friend Ana was off on some secret Fatui mission, his more tolerable clones were deployed in Sumeru, and chatting up the locals was apparently a non-starter. Besides, it wasn’t your fault anyway that the local creperie burned down. And, unrelated, what kind of creperie ran out of fucking crepes?

You were bored. So completely and utterly bored. You sat up, criss-crossing your legs beneath you in order to better watch the Doctor work.

Dottore was a straight line– seemed perfectly content staying in one spot for an entire day, his mind single tracked and obsessive. You, on the other hand, took the path of a crack of lightning, your interests branching and changing rapidly, new revelations branching into new ideas and new ideas springing into new experiments and it was a wonder you ever finished anything at all. You always did benefit from someone who could help organize the near constant fusillade of inspirations in your head.

You used to have someone. Now they were the ghost in every corner.

You needed distractions. And a man possessed could provide no such thing. Your fingers twitched and the pyro delusion warmed on your hip. Then burned. You inhaled sharply, your heart rate picking up.

You blinked away at the encroaching visions that threatened to steal you, usher you inside. The disembodied voices and the ghostly feeling… the familiar mourning of the fiercest kind of love expanding in your chest but with no vessel, no discernible memory to hive it away in. So full yet so terribly out of reach and–

“You’re fidgety tonight,” Prime said calmly and you gasped, your eyes shooting open in time to catch the fire blossoming at your fingertips, having singed a small hole through the thin fabric of your shorts. Cursing, you swatted at the smoke as he continued evenly. “Go take a walk outside if you must.”

You allowed the span of a few centering breaths to pass as your gaze fell upon Dottore’s raven mask laying on the counter behind him. Your gaze darted back to his uncovered features and you found yourself drawn in, and not for the first time. It was a recent breakthrough, one he’d made no announcement of despite the shock when he’d removed the thing in front of you; a promising sign of trust from a man who so lauded in the unsettling air of mystery he exuded.

You fiddled with the mask in your own hair as you observed. The ancient scar that crossed the bridge of his nose and extended up to his right temple, eyes untouched, the rest of his face pale, smooth, and unscathed. The scar that he could easily remove with his scientific prowess yet he kept it just the same. You’d always reckoned it was a reminder of something; a tether of sorts.

And Celestia knows a mind without a tether was a dangerous thing. Yes, you thought, Celestia would know, indeed.

You let out a sudden shriek of laughter, unprovoked.

“Ah, shucks. You’re always trying to send me away,” you chided finally, rolling the singed fabric between your thumb and forefinger. “Besides, it’s the middle of the night, bozo.”

The stiff, weary shake of his head was indicative that he was now only slightly bothered by the plethora of nicknames that you’d coined to get under his skin. Good, you thought with delight, he’d better get used to it.

“I mean, heck,” you continued, throwing up your arms, “who knows what kind of monsters are skulking about out there?”

Dottore’s piercing, crimson eyes latched onto yours and you smiled at the clear meaning within.

Worse than me?

A familiar shock of yearning racked the length of your spine. You gnawed at the inside of your cheek, noting the way his eyes flicked to the motion of your lips before slowly drawing back up, almost expressionless. But you knew his little intricacies by now; the indiscernible twitch of his eyelids when you toed the line with him, the drumming of those long, elegant fingers against any available service whenever he was in deep thought.

How he studied you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

You had always been attracted to the dark; where flame cast light upon a brick wall you were drawn to the shadows that slid effortlessly in between, morphing and making their quiet nests within the cracks in mortar. Yes, Dottore was indeed a darkly beautiful thing, you thought, not allowing your gaze to stray from his.

“I was under the impression you could handle yourself,” he said coolly, but the bladed glint in his unflinching stare was bright and calculating, even beneath the eerie shadows cast over his features by the medical lamp above. “Was I wrong to think so?”

Hmph. All work and no play made the Doctor cranky. Your nose twitched and you cocked your head, lips curling coyly.

“I can handle myself just fine,” you said, baring your teeth. “But you’d miss me, wouldn’t you?” You placed your chin in your palm to drum fingers against your cheekbones but didn’t wait for his answer. “So I’ll stay right here. For the good Doctor’s sake, of course.”

You winked.

“For my sake. Of course,” he murmured, examining your wide, inciting grin and the butterfly flutter of your eyelashes. A tiny quirk of his lips betrayed his forced impassivity before he put a pin in the expanding balloon of tension by turning back to the body on the table silently.

You swallowed down the uncharacteristic dryness in your throat.

There were different routes you could take to get your desired result, one that would ease the ache between your legs and provide you a worthy distraction from the ghosts in every corner. You were used to people winding up putty in your hands, pliable and needy; even the self righteous ones. You just had a gift about you, an impulsive need for control in all senses of the word that people just responded to.

Except him.

To have Prime in your greedy clutches would be nothing short of euphoric. But there was something ancient and omniscient about him that made him effortlessly superior to them all, as if he would slip like sand through the fingers of anyone who tried to hold him. He was patient, unhurried; a lone viper coiled atop its rock, full-bellied and confident in his supremacy, so many leagues above that he had all the time in the world.

Your lips twitched. But, so did you now, didn’t you? Cursed with immortality and ironically bestowed the power to alter time; a power that centuries ago you would have used to pulverize the very forces that had granted them to you in the first place. But time just wasn’t enough for you. You were a creature starved. You wanted to devour and destroy each moment now until nothing remained but the burning foundation. And even that must go.

Your mind strayed again and you fought to ground yourself. All must go.

You hissed between your teeth, leaping off the table to take up space beside Dottore, shoulder pressing into his as you studied his bloody work. You viewed his profile in your periphery; his bladed nose, the soft, steel blue curls that framed his face, the slight, disapproving curl of his lips downward as he was jostled.

“Need any assistance?” you said brightly.

“I do not.” His hands began to move carefully across the corpse, but you knew enough about his craft and were observant enough to see that his focus wasn’t on the experiment before him.

“Hm… You want a drink or something?”

“No,” he said shortly, and then as if remembering himself, “... but thank you.”

“Well, you must be hungry at least.” Your long fingers dared to wrap his elbow, fiddling with the rolled up arms of his blue linen shirt before trailing up to his bicep, squeezing. “Goodness, you’re all skin and bones, crazy you can even hold that scalpel like you are. It’s almost like… like… like holding a flimsy little test tube…”

Dottore’s chin dipped, the slope of his nose tipping down toward your mocking countenance, which faltered slightly when his gaze dropped briefly to the two fingers now trailing over the sharp buckles of his arm bands. You hadn’t touched Prime before besides the occasional brushing of shoulders and on the surface, he didn’t seem the type to enjoy such things. Maybe all it took was the right button.

But Prime only hummed, crimson red eyes rising.

“Your actions suggest you desire to take this man’s place.” His voice was soft but rife with danger. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips and you cocked your head to the side like a mischievous crow. You seemed to share the same steady breath back and forth as you studied each other for a short moment.

“Suit yourself, old man,” you chirped, conjuring a gust of anemo to tousle his loose, hanging locks of unruly hair before releasing his arm abruptly and in a blur of motion swinging around to his other side. “You’re loads of fun, you know that? Have your harbinger friends ever told you what a dream you are?”

Friends. Maybe there was a segment of him that had what one could call a friend but Prime, you had observed, seemed to have no interest in any social dealings that didn’t involve the business of sinister diplomacy. The only person who came around here often enough was Pantalone, and you could hardly call a wallet a friend.

Not that you had many tried and true friendships besides Ana. There was, of course, the pink-haired stick bug that was a package deal with your best friend and he seemed to be warming up to you a bit, but on the whole, people just seemed to tolerate you. Not your fault. Social skills were a fucking bitch.

“Has anyone ever told you how exasperating you really are?” he retorted and then continued, softly mocking, like he was speaking to a child. “This experiment is a particularly sensitive one that requires a certain amount of space and time to complete. Space and time that you seem unwilling to provide.”

“Provide?” You giggled and leaned in close, voice a low purr in his ear. “You get awfully mean when you’re frustrated, Doctor.” And you swung from him, sauntering away.

On a shelf across the room, a little radio sat playing quiet soul music. With one slow stroke of your forefinger across the dial, you turned the volume up, wiggling your hips to the music as you bent across the counter. But when you peeked over your shoulder, he was paying you no mind. Worse, he was turned completely around, vials clanking as he fiddled with something in the depths of his cabinets. Your sly grin turned into a wrathful frown as you glared.

Taking the radio beneath one arm, you spun around to bow comically low, your free arm splayed out like the spread wing of a bird about to take flight. A gust of anemo slammed the cabinet door in his face and he paused, hand still mid air. Then, terribly slow, he turned, eyes hooded and serpentlike but otherwise expressionless. You waited for his full attention with a feral grin on your face before you flicked the volume up another notch and spun out of the stance.

Your socks slid clumsily across the rubber floor as you moved with exaggerated motions, using the radio as a dance partner, swaying to the egregiously loud music. And to add insult to injury, you sang along, too, belting out the words like you were doing all this to save your own life.

Dottore’s eyes were all that moved as they followed, crimson glowing in your periphery as you twirled. And even if he had raised his voice above the cacophony, you wouldn’t have been able to hear him. But his gaze challenged just the same.

You shrugged, turned the volume up to max and watched his eyelids twitch in contemplation before he started to carefully put the corpse before him away, zipping them into a body bag before rolling the table away and into the walk-in freezer. He returned, surprisingly gloveless fingers casually brushing down the front of his pants.

All the while, you danced closer, singing and laughing with frenzied glee, winding up to perform a full running slide toward him. But a small, abrupt twitch of Dottore’s wrist paired with a warning, devilish tick of his lips had you dropping the radio in order to conjure your polearm, spinning it elegantly above your head.

The cogs of a clock rotated before your eyes, a secondhand wheeling at an impossible speed. With practiced ease, you whirled it swiftly back, resetting the clock. You slid to a steady halt in front of him.

The giant needle, half the size of you, that would feasibly have torn into your flesh floated innocently now beside his head, gleaming in the fluorescent light. You searched him with razor eyes, a cocked grin on your face as you reached out with the deadly point of a clawed finger to prop under his chin while the other wiggled beneath the center strap of his harness to pull his face closer. “You weren’t actually going to use that little pin trick on me, were you? I was looking for a dance partner, princess,” you tutted, “not a fight.”

And not taking your gaze off his, you stretched out with your free hand to slowly turn the point of the intimidating needle away from yourself. “Ooh, that is sharp, though!” you remarked. “Very impressive, doctor, I should fashion you up a fancy shmancy corkboard to match. Because you know, I’m nice like that. Now, wanna tell me why you’d go and ruin my good fun?”

“Your good fun…” He hummed regretfully. The finger beneath his chin dug in and he chuckled, a dark blaze of interest in his eyes. “You are right, my dear, I may have overreacted. Well, I am sorry, for all that my word is worth. I simply had the strangest inkling you weren’t listening to me. But now…” The corners of his lips twitched just slightly. “Now you must think me quite uncivil.”

You grinned and met him in the middle of the playing field, the claw beneath his chin falling to round his neck. “You did forget your manners there for a second, huh?”

Dottore hummed, leaning unexpectedly forward and into the grip of your unmoving talons. It seemed every segment of the Doctor favored a nice side plate of anguish, and Prime was no different. They really were just flowers plucked from the same garden.

The talon of your thumb dug into his pulse point and he let out the softest groan, his breath tickling the strands of hair across your forehead.

One of his hands peeled your hold carefully from round his neck, holding it instead against his chest. You swallowed down a secret, hidden delight born of being held by a being who did not often seek out the pleasures of touch. In this moment, he was yours. Your Prime.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head, Doctor,” you said, “I can think of several ways to atone.”

Clawed hand laced beneath his, your free hand trailed down to his lower abdomen, pausing so as to peer up at him through your eyelashes. His breathing remained practiced and steady but there was no mistaking the muscles that twitched and jumped beneath his shirt as your fingers danced innocently from hip to hip. His tongue darted out to wet his lips and his eyes rose to meet yours.

“I shudder to think what punishments a mind such as yours could dream up,” he said lightly.

Too lightly. Too unbothered.

“I’d only give as much as you’re able to take, of course.”

“Ah, of course.”

Dottore huffed out a dark laugh, his free hand rising up to almost tenderly stroke the ticklish outline of your jaw before falling to cup beneath. “I’ve been told I’m long-winded but you don’t give up do you? An admirable trait in some circumstances, I suppose. But you are a horribly impatient thing.”

His thumb pushed into the plush of your bottom lip, quietly admiring the give of it, the shades of red warping under his shifting pressure. “Although I suppose I have been quite busy, haven’t I?” he crooned and you felt a bright flicker of irritation at the implication that your entire time here had thus far revolved around a one-sided pining for him.

No, no. That wouldn’t do.

You had intended on taking him quick once he showed interest, but something bright and oddly delicate within the depths of your chest had you slowing down. Besides, you supposed a bit of teasing wouldn’t hurt.

“Being elbow deep in your funny little corpses all day makes you awful ornery. I just think you could use a break.”

Your hand dropped those final fatal inches, brushing along the front of his pants, fingers dragging a slow, lazy rhythm across the twitching hardness beneath. Archons, he was big. And he knew it, too. Had no reservations about pushing his hips forward and into your grip just to watch your eyes widen.

With a centering intent, you located and swiped across the tip, pressing there to savor the bead of precum wetting slowly through. His grip tightened painfully on your jaw and his own thumb jerked forward, sliding between your teeth. His eyes dipped closed almost as if to center himself, his finger resting on the pad of your tongue.

Dottore’s crimson gaze reemerged and fell transfixed upon the digit you pinched between your teeth before releasing. His voice was surprisingly even when he spoke again. “Tell me what you want.”

“You on your knees,” you said candidly, stroking along his length again, so hot against the palm of your flesh hand. “Some begging would be nice.”

His chuckle was a roll of thunder, sinister and foreboding. “Oh? How forward,” he remarked.

“And just a liiiittle bit of your time. Since like you said, you’ve been so busy. Then we can go back to pretending you haven’t wanted this since the very beginning. Is that so much to ask?”

The slow, wicked curl of Dottore’s lips would have sent anyone else running for the hills, but not you, a vicious thread of want unspooling between your thighs at the sight. To have such villainous lips pressing not only to yours but to your legs, your breasts, your everything.

The thought gave you pause, if only for a moment, a lapse that he took full advantage of as he dragged his palms up your sides with the leisure of a man with unlimited patience, his presence hot and solid, thumbs brushing, swooping purposefully along the outside swell of your breasts before trekking back down to settle on your hips.

“You just want a little bit of my time,” he repeated, nodding, “of course.”

You frowned. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. With a sudden, urgent need to unravel him, you yanked his hips closer with a tug of his belt buckle. “Then why don’t you kneel, hm? Or better yet, pet, why don’t you get on all 4’s for me?”

Dottore’s chest rumbled against yours. “You know,” he said gently, “you were right about me.” Something about his tone had your brows knitting with unease, stomach twisting.

“Was I?”

“I do get mean when I’m frustrated.”

With a single toss of his head, three things happened in sequence.

One, the needle beside Dottore’s head, the one your elemental skill had been holding in place, impaled into the tile behind you with a deafening crack. Two, there was a terrible sound of something whirring to life. And three, a cloud of winged darkness descended upon the two of you.

Ravens. Too many to count. With bright turquoise eyes and mechanical cries. They were jet black with gold stitching; the man couldn’t help but put signature pieces of himself into every one of his creations and these were no different.

A sudden, predatory step forward by Dottore sent you pedaling away, movement stalled by the backs of your legs hitting against the flat head of the embedded needle, too low to sit on, too wide to skirt around. Instinctively, your fingers found a stabling purchase in the center strap of his harness before you could topple backwards as he drove forward still.

In a terribly awkward mimicry of a ballroom dip, you hung off him, head whipping to the side to ward off the flurry of winged creatures that swept viciously past your faces like an ocean riptide. Spinning, they.painted an almost ethereal backdrop of black wings behind him for but a moment before they fell in a swirling formation around the two of you.

A tempestuous wind, one that matched the power and complexity of your frenzied mind, built with a vengeance around your feet as you swung your sharp gaze to his. Your taloned hand gripped into the blue linen of his shirt as you found an awkward balance, teetering backwards still, knuckles digging punishingly into his chest as you glared up at him.

“This isn’t fun for me,” you complained. “I’m not having fun.”

“Pity.” A thick laugh at your expense flowed like a dark lullaby from his chest as he addressed you with a sharp-toothed grin, ignoring the anemo tantrum even as his hair swept wildly across his face.

“Do you like control?”

“Yes,” you wheezed up at him, neck straining from the effort of holding your head up to glare at him. “I do. I really, really, do.”

“As it happens, so do I.”

“Oh well boo you, you absolute bore. You know, I was wondering where you kept that backbone.”

Both time and an unquelled fury had afforded you the capabilities to destroy a village with a single spin of your polearm. You both knew you could level the playing field if you wanted. And quite literally, too. But despite the terrible yearning to pin him into the nearest wall, to see him come apart at your hands, the storm remained strangely controlled. Even as you clung to him while he explored the notches of your spine gently, the movement clashing with that familiar lilt of cruelty with which he spoke.

“What was it you were searching for, hm?” he crooned. “For me to shirk the integrity of my research just for a meaningless dalliance? You seem to quite fancy the notion of vexing me into compliance, seeing how you’ve been trying to get this spine of yours bent over one of my exam tables for how many weeks now? You spoke of punishment earlier, well I’d like to subvert that notion entirely. Of what use are you having around at all if you only seek to meddle in my work?”

“Four,” you said simply and then in the following silence supplied, “four weeks I mean. And you’re in no position to be tossing around death threats. Not with those arms.”

“Aren’t I?”

Punishment came in the form of his fingers withdrawing from your spine, instead languidly dragging around to your lower stomach. Crimson eyes observed your reactions carefully as he slid a wriggling middle finger across the thin fabric of your shorts, mapping out and nestling between the hidden folds there. His eyes darkened with hunger at the intoxicating sound of your breath hitching. He pressed upward with the pad of that finger, carefully avoiding where you needed his touch most, circling your clothed entrance and basking in the heat emanating between your thighs.

“Shall I proceed?”

“Shall I proceed?” you mocked in a gruff voice. “What is this, open heart surgery? Pass me the scalpel, Doctor.”

“That could be arranged,” he responded, voice tight.

A quiet whine loosened from your throat when his arm slid around your lower back to better support his endeavor as he pressed his thumb into your clit. In a launched counterattack, you slashed four thin strips into his shirt with a flick of your wrist, then hoisted yourself up to his ear by wrapping the back of his neck.

“You want to look at my brain, too?” you said breathlessly. “You can finger fuck that, too, if you want.”

The arm around your back tightened painfully. He continued his exploration of the shape of your cunt, picking up a slow rhythm with two fingers circling your clit. The hand on your tailbone dragged up until it tangled into your hair, holding you there in the crook of his neck while he turned to whisper against your cheekbone.

“I wouldn’t put such temptations into my head, pet.”

“Nothing that wasn’t already there.”

“You are dangerously drawn to the profane, I’m afraid. Hm. What to do, what to do… I think the only way to silence such a perverse mind is to deprive it of what it craves most, wouldn’t you agree?”

He paused in his ministrations.

You were sure the glare you yanked back to sear him with could've taken out a small village. “No. I would not.”

Dottore chuckled low, but the tone was something you’d never heard, so tattered and almost restrained. Your eyes flicked down to the space between them and you smirked when you saw just how restrained he really was. He snatched your jaw and pulled your focus back to him, squeezing into the meat of your cheeks when you bared your teeth at him.

“You’re not incorrect, though, I have weighed the merits of studying such a specimen as you.”

“Ooh,” you grinned. “Intimately?”

He turned your face to the side to examine. “By and large, people are just a complex sum of their parts but you…”

You’re a person of jagged, scattered pieces I haven’t quite figured out yet.

“-You’ve been useful to me thus far. But all things fade and my patience wears thin.”

The murder of ravens dove back toward you with the command of an unseen signal and you closed your eyes and giggled as talons caught in the mask in your hair, knocking it completely off your head. But when the cold strike of metal wings slit into the sleeve of your shirt, slicing a thin crimson line across your shoulder, your eyes narrowed onto his with a deadpan, lethal focus.

“Do you want to know what happens if you keep pushing? Hm?” His fingers retreated until they splayed across your lower stomach instead.

“Do tell.”

“The bite of a single raven is painless when compared to, let’s say the bite of a scalpel against unsuspecting skin,” he murmured and his lips curled into a razor smile in response to the shiver that drove down your spine even as you vowed not to react.

“But just imagine in that creative head of yours… the onslaught of hundreds of tiny blades clipping away at flesh. Talons tearing into skin, muscle, perhaps even bone, reducing you to nothing but your base components in none but an instant. A deplorable thought, isn’t it.” The birds dive bombed again and you vibrated with the strangest kind of fever, your eyes fluttering shut as you teetered with the adrenaline, the hypnotizing lull of his voice as he spoke of Death.

Death. That big old thing with wings. Shy and sweet - that shadowed creature that flitted just there at the corner of your eye. Always there, gone no matter how swiftly you turned to look. Soft and unforgiving, a small comfort, as light as the feather of a single raven. That’s all they were, just feathers across time.

“Open your eyes.” You did with a whine, locking onto Dottore with a furrowed brow, your hands trailing up to bury into his shoulders, recentering yourself with reality. “After all, those would go first, I’m sure. Ravens are inclined to burrow, build their nests in high places. Ah, perhaps I’ll put your skull on my bookshelf. What a pretty sight that would be,” he crooned. His thumb swept up and smoothed across your brow almost comfortingly, circling down to rest on the crest of your cheekbone. Your head buzzed and a deadly impatience gnawed at the place his hand rested unmoving on your belly.

“It is a pain beyond the bounds of human comprehension, to die in such a way, at least from what I’ve borne witness to. Is it Death that you crave? I wouldn’t allow a creature such as yourself a tedious end, you know. No, you deserve something more… remarkable.” With an uncharacteristic bout of submission that had his head cocking in satisfaction, you allowed his hand to wrap your neck, the experimental squeeze like a trigger, your hips rolling needily into his.

“So I’d beg you the question, what comes next?” he asked. “What happens if you continue to push and push?”

Dottore’s erection dug into the soft of your stomach when you pressed forward, your palms rising to cup his face in wonder. Your eyes followed the track of his swallow.

Such a beautiful distraction he was.

“Oh, Dottore… Oh, please, Dottore,” you sang out like a damsel in distress before lightning quick, you wrenched his head to the side to hiss in his ear. “So poetic. Romantic, even. Death by a thousand cuts and all that. Listen, I’ll tell you what happens,” you panted, a pyro fervor rising quickly to the surface of your skin. “Birds or no birds, if you don’t make me cum, I’ll call every last scrap of power you so sweetly bestowed upon me just to incinerate this place to nothing but the ashes of your hard work. What a fucking waste that would be, hm? No punishment quite like the consequences of your own actions is there? Oop! Hello karma, let me introduce you to my good friend the Doctor!” You tittered when the muscles of his jaw clenched beneath your grip.

“And then, Doctor, when we’re both standing here in the rubble of this archon forsaken place, I will go out of my way to abuse the laws of time just to make sure you suffer over and over again and then I will burn you, Prime, I will burn you if you don’t move your fucking fingers right now-”

The rest of your sentiment was cut off by a fist clenching into your hair, tearing your lips away from his ear and crushing them against his own. With a shattered groan, he poured his frustration down your throat while he did exactly as you requested, picking up an intensely fast rhythm against your clit that had you clawing at his biceps, startled from the sudden friction, your squeal of surprise swallowed whole by the violence of his kiss.

There was nothing gentle about the way he moved against each you, hips grinding a relentless rhythm, lips bruising yours as he nipped and licked, hand fisting so tightly in your hair you swore he’d take a good bit of it with him if he ever decided to remove himself.

And nothing could have prepared you for the peculiar sensation - an uncharacteristic feeling of being completely unsure of what came next. Of being knocked completely sideways whilst never feeling more balanced. Like there was a pulsing thing in your sternum running parallel to your heart, some melancholy sensation that centered and secured.

That tethered.

Wind howled around them. Birds cried. And somewhere, somewhere in your addled mind, there was quiet.

Pleasure recycled from your mouth and into his as he drove you toward a climax that came fast but ferocious in its intensity. The borders of your vision faded until all you could do was wrap your arms around his shoulder and hold on as you shook against him, a high pitched whine spilling from between your lips. And his crimson gaze, glazed and almost desperate, remained open to study the way in which you unraveled; how your eyes screwed shut, your fingers finding purchase in his own hair, tugging it terribly hard to prove some semblance of control over him even as you came apart with nothing but his fingers.

Time, with no assistance, seemed to stand still as you came to, your nose pressed into the soft crook of his neck, arms still wrapping his shoulders. Papers were scattered, tables overturned. Some ravens flew still, riding the leftover anemo current above, while some perched, eyeing the two of them with a cold, mechanical disinterest.

A song played on that little radio somewhere, broken and skipping but still pushing through as he swayed back and forth.

“Are we… dancing?”

“Quiet.”

Soft wings brushed across the hollowness in your chest and you nuzzled further into him without much thought. Holding your breath, you dragged your fingers down his chest, intent to undo him in the same way, his cock still hard and insistent against you, but he swatted your fingers away. Once, twice.

“Hey. You haven’t even-”

“Be quiet.”

“Why do you get the lead?”

Dottore didn’t say a word, but his weary sigh tickled the back of your neck and you fell into the silence that comes with newness.

“Did you know ravens usually work in pairs to acquire their food?” you said suddenly.

There was a long pause. “...I did.”

“Hm.”

You said nothing else, and if he noticed the unsubtle way in which you stole back the lead, he didn’t say a word.

#dottore #il dottore #genshin impact #dottore x reader #dottore x female reader #dottore genshin impact #mdni #dottore smut

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drenched-in-sunlight · 6 months

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Just wanna let you know you went SO HARD when you made Freud look like an older scumbag Rusty. Like visually it’s really cool but also narratively what it implies about the end result of the V.IV Rusty persona? How Rusty can give Raven purpose but Freud can give 621 strength? Ugh it’s so good absolutely adore it

IT'S INTERESTING YOU PHRASE IT THAT WAY CUZ

so in previous title, Armored Core: Verdict Day to be exact... there's this guy called J who is the final boss that lives for the thrill of the battlefield only. he also commands a group of AC pilots called Reaper Squad who literally goes around hunting down promising AC pilots. he also has banger quote like "There is no place for me other than the battlefield. to live as I please, and die a senseless death".

Freud is basically a Walmart version of that guy (sorry Freud).

BUT. J. is actually also a Walmart version of another guy in AC4 called Joshua who is: friendly, kind, helps the player character a lot in battles, pilots the most memorable mech in the series to that point (White Glint my beloved), but still ended up as the final boss to the player character. so basically... Rusty is kinda a callback to him in some aspects??????

that's the real reason i designed Freud to look kinda like Rusty, since they are both parallels to two other characters who are also parallel of each other (it's actually implied that J is cloned from Joshua after he died). they are like two sides of a same coin thrown into the lake of 621's life: one gives them the drive for power with purpose, while the other understands power as power only, that it does not need to be crowned with other grand names, yet two opposite ideals are delivered to 621 in a same form of love and admiration and obsession. augh it's so good.

#divine-bloodlines #ask #reply #this turns into a mini rant BUT I SAW A CHANCE AND I TOOK IT #yes im really not normal while designing these characters aughh #thank u for pointing it out so i can talk about it

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alexthenbee · 4 months

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Hi Tumblr! I wrote a fanfic for Lokius to help our shipping hearts. Spoilers for the season 2 finale

"No!" Shouts Mobius as Loki opens the door to the Loom. He's not sure what he's about to do, but that soft smile Loki sends him can't be a good sign.

"I did it for you, for all of us," Loki explains and turns towards the opening door. He steps out and Mobius runs upstairs to watch through the window. Mobius watches as Loki struggles to reach the destination of the Temporal Loom. With each step, memories come flooding back to the human. He was the first one to see something in Loki. The first one to believe Loki can be more than an evil God of mischief. He recalls all the little stuff. Eating pie together. Doing paperwork together. Riding a two person bike to catch the bad guy. All the little taps they gave each other. This, and this, and this the memories keep flooding Mobius.

Loki reaches the end of the walkway. He has changed. While Mobius was recalling their memories with each step, Loki changed costumes with each step. He's now wearing a fancy green suit with a golden horned helmet. Loki reaches up and uses his magic to destroy the Temporal Loom. Everyone around Mobius goes silent. It's all destroyed... or is it? Lokie grabs at the strands of timeliness. Using magic he fixes them. He carries the timeliness with him. He accepts the burden of holding the timeliness forever. This is his glorious purpose. Heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Mobius watches Loki walk away until he couldn't see him anymore.

Afterwards, Mobius couldn't find a reason to stay at the TVA. It used to be the only home he's ever known. Then he met Loki. Perhaps home isn't a place, but it's a person. Maybe Loki was his person. But now Loki is stuck with the burden of keeping the multiverse safe. Mobius is content with just letting time pass.

That is, until he heard a familiar sound of a particular God's magic. In confusion he turned around. "Loki? Is that you?" He asks the raven haired God.

"Sort of," chuckles Loki. "I used my magic to make a clone and I put him in this timeline. I can watch all the timelines, but just watching isn't as exciting."

"I bet. Do you ever get lonely? Watching everyone from afar?"

"I suppose so... but somebody has to take care of the timeliness. I made this decision. I have to deal with the consequences."

Mobius smiles, "Wow. Look at how much you've changed. The Loki that I first met would have been more reluctant to accept such a responsibility. I lo- I'm proud of you."

Loki's breath hitches when Mobius stuttered. He wonders what Mobius would have said. Perhaps it is best to leave it unsaid though. "Thanks, Mobius. So how is the world? What have you been up to?"

"Same old. I finally bought a jetski. It's fantastic! I took it out on the lake and I had a ton of fun." Mobius doesn't say that he felt like he was missing something on his ride.

"That's great! I'm happy to hear you had fun."

"Yeah. Hey um... I was wondering if I could maybe help out somehow. Or just sit around with you and keep you company."

"Mobius, that's a kind offer. But I have to say no. I don't want you to be forced to help me with this burden. I have to do it on my own."

"See that's where I think you're wrong. You don't have to carry that burden alone. And I wouldn't be forced to do it. I'm offering and making a decision just as you did."

Loki stays silent for a moment thinking. "Fine. But if you want to leave just let me know."

The gray haired man smiles, "sure thing."

Mobius goes to Loki. He looks at the timelines in awe. It resembles yggdrasil, the tree of life in Norse mythology. He walks towards the tree and sees Loki on his throne. In green mist a second throne appears on Loki's right. "Wow. Loki this is amazing!"

The God chuckles, "thanks Mobius. I took inspiration from home."

"I can see this," Mobius smiles and sits in the throne designated for him.

The two sit in comfortable silence for a moment. Mobius grabs some timlines from Loki's hand and holds them for him. Then Loki speaks up. "Earlier you said you were proud of me. But you were going to say something else. What was it?"

"Oh. You caught onto that? I forget how observant you are," Mobius chuckles. Loki smiles softly but waits for Mobius to answer the question. "I love you, Loki. I always have."

Loki looks affectionately at the silver haired man. "Really? Even when I first arrived at the TVA? Or when I was a villain?"

"Yes. Even then. I knew that you had potential to become a kind God. I've always had faith in you."

"Thanks, Mobius. You have no idea how much that means to me. I love you as well."

"For all time," Mobius smirks. He will love Loki until the Earth stops spinning and the timelines cease to exist.

"Always," Loki smirks back. He'll always love Mobius. In any other timeline they would meet and fall in love, he was sure of it. Their love is ineffable. Something that is certain in every universe.

The two men smile at each other. They hold hands and stare out at the beautiful, vast universe. Maybe this glorious purpose doesn't have to be fulfilled alone after all.

#loki #loki series #lokius #loki spoilers #mcu #mobius #fanfic

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vicmillen · 3 months

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Nooooo... I want my wip done dammit. But anyway my mind got hijacked by a sci-fi au, so. Here we go again I guess, have some sci-fi settings for the LU boys🫠🫠

Feel free to use any or all of this setting for yourself, if anyone is interested. Credits appreciated tho not needed.

General background

The Links came from different time period due to the unavoidable time delay and time wrap in intergalactic travel (think Ender's Game and how all the ships arrived at the same time despite spanning decades in departure). Up to recent times where instant wrap becomes a thing, at least.

The Links, and maybe the Zeldas too, may or may not have came from a common clone source (think Dances On The Snow style cloning, gee I love that novel)

There's a war involving a certain holder of the force of power, at some point.

I actually have no idea what the Links gathered for, something something evil shadows, I guess?

Is time travel a thing? I don't know. Depends on if they fucked with the spacetime continuum hard enough (they have). Though I refuse to melt my brain again for any inevitable paradox situations so for now let's pretend they haven't.

The Links

Sky was a well decorated pilot for the Hylian air force, back when air force is still it's own division. He is the furthest back in terms of time period, being one of the test pilot on board project Skyloft, the very first large scale long distance warp jump in Hylian history. Very skilled pilot, despite the outdated training. Fi is helping a lot with his retraining. His jet is simply named Crimson.

Four is a engineer from the Picori system. At one point got himself into a freak accident involving a cloning station and a lunatic scientist. Extremely quick learner and good at solve technical problems (it's like working fourth times the normal speed, you know:)

Time is humble ranch hand, or so he claims. He's not entirely wrong, but before he become said ranch hand, he has a complicated history with the Hylian council and the intelligence community. Specialized in mech suits, heavy hitter.

Twilight is the actual rancher, being Time's adopted son. However he got himself involved in a series of abduction and trafficking cases, and somehow ended up in some human experiment. Straight up not having a good time tbh. Though he broke himself out and took down the rig before Time got invited to the carnage, which is good because there's at least something left of the offenders. Good at mech suits and piloting jets, but specialized in hand to hand. Hand to claw? Hand to fang?

Warriors was an army captain on board of Artemis' flagship. Though he specialized more on the strategic planning than the daily management, hence why Wind is the unofficial captain of the ship now. Comes across as snobby at first because damn non of this gang have any training or discipline? Mech fighter, heavy hitter. Good with jet piloting too, just don't comes with his own jet. Copilot with Sky if needed.

Wind ran with Tetra's crew before whatever leads to him joining the chain, so a privateer. Though he prefers pirate, just sounds that much cooler. He comes with his own jet, the Red Lion. Talented pilot, very good at scouting. Surprisingly the most experienced in managing the staff on board since it's similar scale as Tetra's.

Legend is, well he'll say he's a merchant. Hauling and selling perfectly legal merchandise. The Federals disagree, but they're mistaken. His private jet, Sir Raven, is not technically armed, but the 'merchandise' on board is varied and certainly useful in hostile situations. Very skilled at navigating and bullshitting the feds and fighting with his custom weaponry. Kind of a weapons expert too.

Hyrule may or may not have been one of the perfectly legal merchandise that required Legend's shipping service at some point. And may or may not have led to Legend gaining yet another wanted poster somewhere, somehow. Works miracles with the med unit, and like Legend is great with the unusual weapons that they rig up.

Wild is a cyborg, multi talented but especially appreciated for working miracles with the food assembly thingie. Despite being the only one on board that don't need edible material to survive. Technically the owner of the ship, and technically is part of the ship too. Take care of the daily management with Wind.

The ships

The ship they're currently aboard is the Master Ship Zero very original I know, Fi is the ship's Ai. Though the three jets in the hull each have their own system. The master ship is not really meant for a crew of only 9, but between the Fours and some creative problem solving, they managed pretty well. (Or maybe the Links didn't came alone, so there are more crew, like Malon Ravio and idk, somebody else.)

Wind's Red Lion is the smallest and lightest jet. Single pilot, speedy and stealthy, but very little fire power.

Sky's Crimson is a antique very traditional fighter jet, though it's is under heavy modification to suit the need of the current situation. For a fighter is on the small side, but comes with heavy fire power.

Legend's Sir Raven is a modified commercial jet, packs a surprising punch. But overall focused on camouflage shielding and speed. The largest jet among the three, actually. At least the largest hull. Can fit the whole chain inside if need must, but cannot provide sustainable life support for more than three people.

#yet another au #linked universe #lu sky #lu four #lu time #lu twilight #lu warriors #lu wind #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu wild #lu chain #lu au #lu

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tea-kettlezztoo · 5 months

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Kitana, Mileena, and Jade Headcanons

These aren't for any specific versions of them, just not MK1 (bc these are based off their older backstories). Ig you could say these are for my own versions of them that I used a mixture of Midway and NRS canon to build off of?? Idk. Anyway

Kitana

Was led to believe that edenians were native to Outworld rather than having been people conquered by Shao Kahn

Believed she and Mileena were twins and that she was born a couple minutes before Mileena

When she and Mileena were younger, the two were surprisingly very close despite being very different. It wasn't until they got older that their relationship became distant and even bitter

Spent a lot of her early childhood with shokans and tarkatans

I made a post on this already, but when unarmed, her style of fighting becomes just as animalistic and ravenous as Mileena's. Biting and clawing desperately at her opponent until she can get her hands on her blades again

Closet is FULL of different fanblades she uses for different occasions. Some are just for show, but most are for kombat. Very organized closet

Loves avian creatures of all kind and from any realm ❤️

Mileena

Mileena was told she was experimented on by Earthrealmers as a baby, hence why she's part Tarkatan. This was used to fuel her and Kitana's anger at Earthrealm and keep them in line (she's a clone. But obv she did not know that)

She doesn't have arm blades, or at least her's aren't functioning. They're far too small to be usable. Her claws and teeth make up for it

Like Kitana, she has a closet full of weapons. Her's is filled with different sais (some even being made of old tarkatan arm blades) and gauntlets. Unlike Kitana, her's is disorganized. But doesn't care too much as long as she knows where everything is

Being half-edenian, Mileena is actually an omnivore. Though she has a very clear preference for meat

Like Kitana she spent much of her early childhood with tarkatans and shokans. Though she spent much more time around tarkatans, and is even regarded highly by them

Being both tarkatan and edenian, eating either makes Mileena sick. She prefers to avoid it and would only ever do so in an emergency (which is unlikely given she's royalty, but you never know)

Eats avian creatures of all kinds and from any realm ❤️

Jade

Kitana and Mileena's bodyguard. Often went on missions with them and stood by them during social events like celebrations. Spent her free time with the two sisters. When the two became distant, she chose to spend more time with Kitana as the two were always closer

Beefing with Tanya since the two of them were kids. You could not imagine how relieved she was when she became a royal bodyguard. No more Tanya

(Post joining Earthrealm) Jade is less remorseful for everything she's done under Shao Kahn's command than Kitana is. What's done is done, and there's no point dwelling. Her lack of remorse is just a part of her that she's gotten too used to and struggles to let go of. She tends not to think about it too much

HOWEVER, despite feeling less remorse, she's still capable of understanding that betraying Shao was the right thing to do, for everyone in every realm

She's not as interested in Earthrealm as Kitana is, but she took a liking to horses and other equidae animals as she enjoys the Outworld equivalents of them

#mortal kombat #kitana #mileena #jade mk #fandom #favorite animal hcs are kinda random but i thought theyd be fun

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thedigitalvalkerie · 3 months

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SONIC OC BARRAGE GO

Introducing a bunch of my sonic ocs that no one really asked for, but I felt like drawing!

The "Squad of the Future" redux because the squad got bigger

Each character and a little bit about themselve's under the readmore!

Angel Robotnik-Cemerald the Cat

The oldest of the squad, being a few hundred years old now, though she lost track a long time ago. She is a clone created by Eggman, using both His and Vick's Dna, made to be the perfect heir to share his eventual kingdom with. ... Well she got his smarts and his love for building, but thats about it. She has to keep her little half brother, Draco, out of trouble.

Draco Johnathan Cemerald-Robotnik the Hedgecat

The "brains" of the group, 12 year old Draco is the son of Vick Cemerald and Shadow Robotnik. He has a problem with his arrogance, but doesn't hesitate to put himself between his friends and danger. He's constantly bugging his big sisters, both his half sister Angel as well as his full sister Raven. Demetre is his very best friend.

Demetre the Porcupine

Demetre is Draco's keeper, aka the one to always humble the dumbest smart person he knows. With his ability to fire his quills at a rapid rate, he's more of a long range attacker. He enjoys science, like Draco, though isn't quite on his level.

Henry the Bearded Dragon

Henry is a quiet kind of guy, usually having his nose in a book or drawing sick comics. He's a tad self conscious about his looks, so he tries to look the part of "bad boy". But with his big heart and stupendous healing abilities, he's a great ally to have.

Kevin the Armadillo and Mesmer the Hedgehog

Kevin is the literal big brother of the group, with his little Sibling Mesmer always by his side. They may not be the strongest of the squad, but their experiences in life make them invaluable. Mesmer is always reminding everyone that theres time to smile, while Kevin reminds them of responsibility that they all share.

Lexis the Sloth

Lexis is the powerhouse, with an explosive power to gather potential energy and turn it into kinetic energy. To prevent herself from making a destructive mistake, Lexis prefers to spend her free time sleeping, either in a bed or where ever she can get cozy.

Prince Kappa of the Kingdom of Shells and Princess Marina of the Kingdom of Urchins

Prince Kappa and Princess Marina are two royals from the same continent, one madly in love with the other. I'll give you three guesses as to which is which. Marina's father, King Marin, wants the two to be wed in order to combine the two kingdoms. Kappa, however, as a single heir to a kingless kingdom, does not want this. He does not like Marina in that way and just wants to be friends who hang out.

Jaque the Hedgehog

The Dream Walker, Jaque has the ability to enter the astral plane in his sleep as well as the dreamscapes of others. He is incapable of having dreams of his own. Usually he's the therapist of the friend group, unable to help himself on coming upon nightmares when called out to.

Piper the Retriever

Although not the oldest, Piper has big Mom friend energy, scolding the more irresponsible of the group often. While having no powers to speak of, she has a great sense of leadership though claims that shes no leader. She loves to take care of her friends, especially when they forget to eat, sleep, or sometimes breathe.

Axel the Meerkat

The strongman, loving to casually show off his strength, Axel has, you guessed it, strength class abilities. He is a mute sort, never seeming to utter a word, though no one really knows why. His best friend Gou seems to understand him regardless.

Gou the Porcupine

Gou is a Speedster, only able to launch a single quill at a time but with great precision and speed. His best friend Axel tends to keep his class clown attitude in check, but with his big mouth its hard to get out of the tricky situations they get into. He uses a cyber sleeve on his right arm to gather intel, and to also sometimes watch videos on TuYube.

Dr. Nikolia Moore the Tigeress

Nikolia is the team's Medic, being the only one of them certified with a doctorate in medicine as well as nutritional health. Her deadpan face can be intimidating to most, but her heart is that of a mother. A mother who will rip off the head of something hurting an innocent, a friend, or worse, a child. She is a strong believer in Doctor/Patient Confidentiality, and would never out someone for anything with out asking if it was okay to speak on the matter. She and Angel are Colleagues.

And that's all for now! Thank you for reading thus far.

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ravensvirginity · 3 months

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The Issue with Beast World #5

MAJOR spoilers below the cut, just in case you wanted to go in blind

This, in my opinion is?? So lazy??

Trust me, I have plenty of issues with how they're framing Raven's lack of vengeance on doing what Gar would do, seeing as Raven's whole thing is being kind and pacifistic because she doesn't want to give into her demon side. AND of course, GAR is the character with an extensive history of getting insane and violent when he wants revenge. But I've talked a lot about how bad Raven's characterization is in this comic, and I want to talk about this moment specifically.

This, in my opinion, is representative of not only a lot of what's wrong with Raven's current writing, but of problems a lot of comics are having as a whole right now. The point of Raven's demon side has always been more of a concept; the idea of fighting against your personal demons so you don't become what you hate. Of course, it's always been somewhat literal, as Raven does literally fight against Trigon trying to control her, but never "Raven has an evil clone that's a completely separate person from her" until less than 5 years ago, and I'd say this is the most egregious example yet.

This isn't an issue with just Raven, but comics as a whole: the pretty simple concept of a character struggling with a force wearing them down mentally and trying to goad them into things they would normally never do is too complex for this shallow story. Raven needs to LITERALLY fight her evil self, to the point her evil self is a completely separate entity that can be fought physically, because there's that little nuance to the story.

This comic is only concerned with cheap emotional moments and not so epic epic action scenes. I'm sure that in the next issue, Raven and evil demon clone Raven will have an entirely physical fight with each other. Superhero comics are already a medium chock full of physically fighting villains, there's no need for this aspect of Raven's character to become a literal fight.

This is such a bad story and character choice, imo. It's so much more interesting and meaningful to have Raven fight Trigon and her demon side as a mental battle. It shows how resilient Raven is as a person, how much she believes in her pacifistic ideals and her desire to be a good person, and it's way more dramatic to see her finally give in. Raven, our friend and teammate Raven, being evil and fighting the Titans packs WAY more of a punch than Raven's evil shadow self who just showed up out of nowhere. This demon Raven could be Raven's sister and it would change nothing about the story. There's no aspect of fighting one's inner demons if the demon isn't inner and just another villain that can be fought physically.

Lastly, that demon Raven design is terrible, beyond the general terribleness of Raven's look right now. Where are the extra eyes? Red skin? Horns? Anything remotely nonhuman and body horrory? It's literally just a carbon copy of Raven with a different outfit, and I can't totally tell from just the one panel but I think she's got black eyes?? That's it??? The art is good technically but this is such a bad choice. Make her actually look like an evil demon!!!

#raven #raven meta #tuesday spoilers #raven dc #beast world #titans 2023 #dc comics #teen titans #also i hate her calling raven rachel ugh #and the stuff with her gem was so weird like you can't say she's got a gem on her forehead if you haven't been drawing it #like it's just not there but it just suddenly appeared in the middle of this issue

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toska-writes · 1 year

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hello i just find u'r blog and immediately fall in love with u'r works, i just want to say thanku so much for all u'r beautiful writings! it's just not easy to find platonic fic and I'm really grateful to find u'r blog 😭❤️ if u don't mind please make more codywan x padawan reader, no pressure tho only if u want it. once again thanku and have a nice day love 🥺❤️❤️

Thank you! I love this ship sm

“Dinner Party”

Paring: Codywan x padawan reader (Platonic)

Warning: mentions of food and eating if you don’t like that kind of stuff but nothing else

Word count: 1189

Notes: so I didn’t do a great job with the Codywan and it’s mainly just Cody so…. I’ll have to give this prompt another go

Obi-wan tapped his foot absentmindedly under the table. Over and over again. You seemed to be the only one to notice as the rest of the room was filled with loud chatter from the many different senators.

Looking around for a second it seemed that Cody had also taken an interest of Obi-wand nervous habit- it was quite hard for a young padawan and a Clone commander to find common ground with the many different people that filled the room.

Of course your master didn't seem to have the problem when he wasn't lost in thought.

You had to admit Cody looked quite odd in a military uniform instead of his sunburst armor that apparently can come off. But a change in pace can be good sometimes.

As your master came back to reality since he wasn't really invested in what a highly decorated senator was saying he looked between the two of you clearly puzzled by your stares. "Is something wrong?"

Both you and Cody made eye contact and a huge smile played at you lips. "Oh no Master I was just wondering how you view Senator Gunrays insights on Coruscant and weather you believe in any of them."

He stared at you for a moment then shot a quick look at the person you were talking about.

A quick nod from him then he said. "Oh yes my young padawan it seems he did say some very interesting things." He fished around his mind for some words. "You can learn many things from the people around you if you just listen."

Cody leaned over from your left side giving Obi-wan quite the look who was sitting to your right, basically asking if he was serious.

"Any more insightful tips to give your padawan sir?." Cody said in quite the formal voice but his eyes said other wise.

"I'll let you know when I think of another dear" was all he quipped back when the clatter of dinner trays filled the room.

You felt a slight nudge to your shoulder as Cody leaned closer to your ear. "Thank the maker I'm starving."

You really could only nod in response since you were also ravenous and a plate full of food was being sat down in front of you.

It was your turn now to give your Commander a quick nudge as you looked to see his eyes blow wide, taking in the abundant food.

Looking at your own plate you felt sort of.... Disappointed?

Not that you weren't grateful to be sitting in a lavish room full of very important people about to eat a full meal that just came out hot, because you were.

The food just didn't seem right for you.

A lump of grayish blue mystery food sat towards the edge of your plate decorated with unusually green ferns.

The main course was- using your best guess some sort of fish. Forks and drinks clanked together as you watch many others enjoying what seemed to be the same meal, but the smell that wafted through the air from your plate made you question if they were really enjoying it.

It would be rude if you didn't eat it though right?

Picking your fork up after choosing what you hoped was ‘the right one’ from the multiple that sat beside your plate you gathers some of the food onto the fork.

To your right Cody clearly was trying to slow down but when all you get is ration bars this must be heaven. This was one of the many reasons you discovered as to why Obi-wan fought so hard for Cody to sit next to everyone at this party as an equal and not just a soldier.

The smell got stronger as it travels closer and closer to your face. I don’t want to be rude, you thought once again and stuffed the dinner into your mouth.

In that moment it finally answered the question of what the underside of a Bantha would taste like.

It traveled roughly down your throat leaving an odd burning sensation in its place.

“Are you alright Y/N” Obi-wan turned to you now as he once again somehow stomached the food in front of him.

“Oh yes master, just taking my time enjoying my food.” You reluctantly scooped another bite and ate that too under the watchful eye of your master.

Before he could respond a loud senator near the head of the table called for Obi-wan to be apart of whatever they were discussing. Weather it was an act under the influence or sober was up for debate.

You were grateful that something on the table was familiar and you downed that water like there was no tomorrow.

The need to eat food and the fact that it was gross was fighting with eachother inside of you as you took yet another bite.

If you didn’t want to scare the senators off by throwing up all over the table you decided for the best that that was your last attempt to be nice.

With a huff you leaned back in your care, crossing you arms over your front. “Not a fan of the food sir?” Cody inquired setting his cleaned off fork nicely on the plate that matched it.

The best answer you could give was a simple nod then you had to add.” Since I’m telling you Cody it tasted like absolute bantha shit.”

Cody laughed at your remark nearly knocking over a few glasses in the process. The odd looks from other senators went unnoticed by the pair as they continued to laugh.

“I’ll have to be honest Y/N I think it was that too.” Cody added after you collected yourself.

“I can’t believe you ate that.” You laughed again. This conversation seemed more like two siblings joking at the dinner table then it did two commanders pretty much sitting in at a political meeting, strange how somethings are.

“I think I have a few snacks on the ship if you didn’t like the food but I’m afraid I can’t get them now.” Obi-wan added under his breath when he finally got away from the talking for a few moments.

“I can mange until then but thank you master.” Without another word and before being pulled back into another ‘very interesting’ conversation Obi-wan pulled some of your untouched food onto his own plate.

“No need to offend the chef now.” He spoke before his name was called yet again.

You felt Cody shuffle beside you, digging in the pockets he wasn’t every used to and tried to find something.

After a moment and satisfied with what he found he slid you something across the table. “Taste like sand but it might be a little better then nothing at all.”

You couldn’t even spare a question as you opened the ration bar and started eating it right away. “Is that the only thing you could find to fit in your pockets since a blaster wouldn’t do it?” You asked with a smile.

“Oh no Crys is just a picky eater.”

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