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blossomthepinkbunny · 2 months

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Vivzepops fetishization of queer men and the lack of Sapphic content in HH and HB

I found it a bit dissapointing that Charlie and Vaggie had very little interactions that could be read as romantic or sexual, especially since they are the supposedly the main couple of Hazbin Hotel and have been together the longest out of most of the couples in HH and HB.

Of course having more casual representation is also fine but the most memorable thing about their relationship was the quickly resolved argument they had when Charlie found out about Vaggies past. I've seen different opinions about how they were handled as a pair.

I understand when someone says that they enjoyed a more relaxed couple with subtle, realistic interactions, interactions that are often overlooked just because both characters are female.

But I can also agree, that they were really not a stand-out couple (wich is weird since Charlie is the main Character) and that it was a bit dissapointing to not see a lot of content for them.

Now the main issue I found with this is that in Vivzepops stories there is a definitive lack of sapphic content. It sometimes seems like women are sexless unless they are with a man. But two men can be sexual and openly affectionate (romantically too). At first I didn't really understand why I felt weird about Chaggie as a couple, so I looked at all the implied/canon ships in Helluva and Hazbin (including past relationships).

Implied/canon couples between a man and a woman:

-Millie and Moxxie

-Blitzø and Verosika

-Stolas and Stella

-Millie and Chaz

-Beelzebub and Vortex

-Sir Pentious and Cherry Bomb

-Adam and Lute

-Lucifer and Lilith

Implied/canon couples between two men:

-Stolas and Blitzø

-Asmodeus and Fizzarolli

-Moxxie and Chaz

-Angel Dust and Husk

-Vox and Valentino

Implied/canon couples between two women:

-Charlie and Vaggie

Now please tell me if I missed any, but these were the ones I could think of.

Honorable mentions include Loona & Vortex, Blitzø & Striker, Blitzø & Chaz and Blitzø & Fizzarolli. But I didn't put these on there because they're either one-sided or don't have enough romantic content.

Now it's very easy to see the difference between representation for queer men in comparison to queer women in these shows. The only relevant (im not counting Background characters) Sapphic relationship there is, is Chaggie. And it's completely underrepresented when compared to the content the man x woman or man x man ships get (not to mention the total absence of gender-queer characters).

One of Millie's and Moxxie's jokes is that they're so in love, that they're almost always cuddling, holding hands, talking sweet or just straight up making out with eachother (I'll talk about Millie a bit later). Sir Pentious had multiple scenes dedicated to him trying to confess to Cherry Bomb or just crushing on her in general.

Stolas' and Blitzø's relationship has become one of the main topics of Helluva Boss and they get a Backstory and explicit aswell as dramatic scenes for them as a couple. The same goes for Asmodeus and Fizzarolli (except that their love isn't as important). Angel Dust and Husk get a song and part of an episode for their relationship to develop.

Here i'd also have to mention that by the list I made Vivzepop's fetish for queer men is very prevalent. Most of the couples between men and women are either past relationships or they get very little attention to them. The only ships that often get special focus, development or explicitly romantic/sexual focus are ships with two men (no matter if their dynamics are even good, healthy etc.).

Now for Millie there are different ways you could talk about her situation with relationships. In general I think that everyone can agree that Millie lacks Character and is a good representation for the neglect of the female characters. Most of her moments revolve around Moxxie in a way and she hasn't had precise characterization so far.

Millie's relationship with Moxxie is sweet and simple and is generally one of the better things about Helluva Boss (if you ignore Millies lack of personality wich really pulls the couple down for me). Now the Episode "Exes and Oohs" shows the mutual Ex of Millie and Moxxie. Chaz dated both of them and as we see in the episode affected both of them very negatively. At the start we literally see Millie freak out and destroy a bunch of stuff, just because she saw Chaz on the street.

Yet Millie's relationship with him is never explored further. All we know is that she dislikes him and that he's a giant asshole. Whereas Moxxie get's a whole Backstory and episode plot about him and Chaz. No focus is given to Millie at all even though Chaz is the ex of BOTH of them.

Another thing that I wanna point out is Millie's possible Bisexuality. Now im not so sure for this point because I couldn't find genuine confirmation on wether Millie is actually confirmed to be Bisexual or if it's just a headcannon. So take this with a grain of salt BUT if Millie is Bisexual then she perfectly shows how little Vivzepop cares about Sapphic representation. What does Moxxie get to confirm him as Bisexual? An ex of the same gender (also multiple explicit flashbacks with him), a whole discussion about his queer identity and a scene where he literally says that he's Bisexual. Moxxie is pretty good Bisexual representation in that regard.

What does Millie get? Nothing. Again I don't know if she's genuinely also Bisexual or if it's ever been confirmed but it'd also be pretty weird if Vivzepop apparently cares so much about queer representation and then doesn't confirm any female characters as actually queer.

I think a lot of people have talked about her blatant fetishization of queer men and I think that that's also mainly why I feel weird by the lack of attention on Vaggie and Charlie as a couple.

I sorta wish I could enjoy a more toned-down and realistic couple in these shows, but when I see that a ship like Vox and Alastor (wich isn't canon nor would it even happen since Alastor is Aroace) is talked about more than the actual main character's relationship I just don't like it.

There's so much more you could say about poor queer representation by Vivzepop (like the fact that she's fine with people ignoring Alastors Aroace identity, and the stereotypes etc) I mainly wanted to talk about the neglect of her female cast in terms of sexuality.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #helluva boss #vivzepop critical #vivziepop #helluva boss critique #helluva boss millie #helluva boss critical

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talenlee · 11 months

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Hanamusa, Explained

There is a nonzero chance if you follow me on tumblr, you’ve seen the term ‘Hanamusa’ attached to something I shared. It’s probably also some super cute art of Delia Ketchum and Jessie Teamrocket, and you may wonder what is going on and also, why is there so much good art of this.

Hanamusa as a term derives from the Japanese names of the characters – Hanako and Musashi. If you’re into shipping name structures, Hana-Musa implies that Hanako is the seme and Musashi the uke, but I don’t think that holds for all use cases of the type of terminology. It’s a ship. It’s an AU ship, as in an ‘alternate universe’ ship, where the two characters are presented in a context outside of the normal context of the anime presentation of them.

The Hanamusa ship as I understand it is set at some point after Jessie and James stop chasing Ash around, and Jessie settles down into a relationship with Delia. There’s tension about her history with Ash and the confusion about finding Your Personal Villain dating your mom, but mostly it’s about showing a sweet domestic life between two characters you know very well in a format I kind of see as like, Comedy-Sabot Romantic 4koma. Like, Hanamusa content is funny (and it is VERY funny) but it doesn’t need to be funny, because the main thing it’s about is showing these two characters and their relationship as they do cute things together.

It’s why people watch shows like K-On basically.

As for where this idea comes from, (EDIT: Slightly wonky wording here, I should have phrased 'this current fandom push' - I don't have any reason to believe Mai INVENTED the ship, just that when you go looking you'll wind up at her work) it seems to have its genesis with the work of one Kiana Mai, who developed this ship some time ago. Kiana Mai is also an extremely skilled artist, and one of those skills seems to be focus, creating these extremely clean-line excellently structured scene vignettes with no unnecessary content in them but also no need to rocket along. It’s amazing, engaging work that uses every part of the small format amazingly well. Which makes sense because one of the things Kiana Mai does is storyboarding work for Disney animated TV shows, a task at which I am sure she no doubt excels.

What I think is the most interesting aspect of Hanamusa, to me specifically, is that it manages to combine three things I don’t actually care about, in a way that doesn’t interfere with something I have unexpectedly strong opinions on. I do not watch Pokemon, and I have not shed a tear for Team Rocket and Ash Ketchum wandering into the sunset. That is a show that is not for or about my interests and that is okay. Indeed, imagining that it should be about what interests me is baffling. I think if I stopped watching a show twenty years ago, I have lost all right to act like I’m entitled to expect it remain the way it was all the way back then.

But I do have opinions on Jessie and James’ character voice. Not their voice acting – I mean, I know for a fact they’ve had to change over time and no voice actor should be obligated to kick it in the same role for what could be their entire career. I mean the way they talk about things and the words they use and kind of emphasis they put on words when they talk. About the way they voice their ideas, or the way they express who they are in the way they talk to one another, that stuff. It’s about affordances and persona, about the kind of people you project being by what words you choose to use and the affect when using them.

It’s why when, if a picture of a character is underneath it, you can read some dril posts as being ‘appropriately’ voiced by a character, even if it’s describing a candle situation that Francis Crozier did not have opinions on.

Jessie has a voice.

Jessie, in my head, is someone capable of moments of tenderness and friendship that is normally overwhelmed by an incredible confidence in ability she does not have and mere reality will never be given permission to infringe on it. Jessie is unassailably unstoppably sure of herself, thoughtlessly stupid in a way that doesn’t mean she is stupid, but which exists in a context of someone who has relentlessly pursued excellence in her job which is also the equivalent of being a late night 7/11 manager. She is the Girlboss that is Gaslighting herself into thinking she has something to Gatekeep.

Delia Ketchum by comparison is a very nice piece of wallpaper. Every appearance of her in my mind is someone Very Nice who is Very Patient and Very Supportive and has managed to keep literally all emotionally challenging conversations from happening around Ash, which can be perhaps easier when you remember that he, too, is an idiot. I don’t know how Delia Ketchum talks, but I do know that there are ways that Delia Ketchum does not talk.

This is interesting! It’s interesting because it presents a character where I am very sure I know what she does do when she does it, and a character about whom I can only be sure wouldn’t do some things. It creates a character space, and it creates expectations of affect and performance within that space. Ash and other characters show up as well, but because they get to interact with this already-defined space, you get treated to this really lovely kind of resonance. Would Ash call Jessie ‘dad’? Maybe, to bug her. He was good at being a twerp. Wasn’t he? I mean I remember it that way, he seems to work out that way, but… how would I know?

I know more of this AU where Jessie is studying to be a Pokemon Doctor and Ash wears glasses than I do of the source material any more. And if you’re wondering ‘hey, do Jessie and Delia ever meet in the source material?’ Like, yeah, for a few seconds. What, the point is creating something new.

If you want to check out Hanamusa stuff and read the comics, I recommend going and clicking on the hashtag on tumblr.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#Anime #Media

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anatee · 1 year

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Fantasy | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut

Fantasy | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut One Shot. 18+. MINORS DNI.

Word count: 4.3K

Content warning: fem!reader x Kylo; a few curse words; jealous, possessive Kylo, one tiny bit of violence (not smut-related), inappropriate use of the Force, smut: thigh riding, fingering, oral (f receiving), size difference (and kink ig lol), piv (unprotected), filth really

Author’s note: What bothers me in many Kylo smuts is that he is excessively ruthless. And while I do agree this man is no softie in bed, sometimes the degradation goes so far it’s actually a turn-off to me, so here we have this, the man’s still the leader but doesn’t make you feel like scum ig

"Why did you invite me here?"

Y/N was still shocked she found herself in Kylo Ren's quarters. They had known each other even before she became a First Order soldier, but it was the first time she got to visit him. She didn't know why: ever since she started her military career, she saw him only a few times, and always with his mask on, either arguing with General Hux or walking aggressively maker knows where.

They didn't even talk much, busy with their own duties, however this part changed two weeks earlier. He started approaching her often, talking to her even if he didn't need to and, eventually, asked to come with him. She followed him gladly, but in utter shock at the same time, not quite understanding what he was trying to achieve.

Yet there she was, alone with him in the private quarters while almost everyone else on the ship was going to bed.

It was the first time she was even near his room. Twice the size of her quarters, it was mostly black with red accents just like every interior of the First Order. Everything was dimly lit by one source of light, and it didn't seem like he wanted it any brighter. He gestured for her to sit on a metallic, circular chair while he approached a weird piece of furniture resembling a well filled with ashes instead of water. And then, to her surprise, he took his helmet off to put it there.

He turned to face her, making her jaw drop. She had seen him before, of course, but it was a long time ago. He matured a lot.

"Wow," she breathed out before she could stop herself. "I... I almost forgot how you look like."

"You like it?" he asked with a smirk dancing on the corners of his mouth.

This question made her gulp, because she knew about the Force, she knew that Kylo could read her mind like an open book if he wanted. He even tried to show her the ways of the Force years before, but it wasn't strong with her. That's why she worried...

She worried he knew how attractive she had always found him, and now even more so. Black, thick hair, broad shoulders, the face that looked young and mature at the same time. He was much more pleasant to look at without the mask, although the act of taking it off was hot by itself.

"Is this your way of asking if you're attractive to me?" she retorted, trying to save herself as her First Order uniform suddenly became much warmer.

"You've been on my mind recently."

Her heart jumped for a moment. She threw her ponytail back, but even though she didn't have her hat on anymore, it still felt very hot... And she wanted to keep it cool.

"Is that so? Why?" She raised an eyebrow, engulfed in a weird feeling. She hadn't looked him in the eye for a long time and it made her heart race.

"I saw you have been talking to this one guy lately."

"You mean Admiral Fando?"

Kylo's face was almost expressionless. "Whatever his name is."

"Well, yes, he approaches me often. Tries to be funny, I sup..."

"I don't like him talking to you," Kylo cut her off sharply, rendering her speechless for a moment. She thought she had long forgotten the feelings she used to have for him before joining the army, but when he was saying things like this, it was impossible to stay calm.

She cleared her throat eventually. "Why?"

At that moment, as if she weren't shocked enough by everything he was doing, he sat beside her, making her feel extremely small, both literally and metaphorically. He was huge next to her... And one could almost feel the power vibrating, whirling all around him. It must have been part of why he was so intimidating.

His face was less than ten inches from hers as he leaned towards her to say quietly:

"Because I don't like any man trying to court you."

She swallowed hard, because even if it weren't her he was threatening, he looked murderous, and she knew what he was capable of. "You think he's trying to?"

"Don't be delusional, Y/N. Why else would he do this?"

She knew this question would be very risky, but she asked nevertheless.

"And why are you doing this?" She looked down, then back up at him, trying to understand the situation they found themselves in.

There was a moment of silence, silence so tense Y/N feared they might lose oxygen from the room soon. Kylo was piercing her with his gaze, so intensely it almost made her dizzy.

"You know that I can hear your thoughts. I don't look into them at all, but once... Once they were so loud..."

He moved his face closer to speak straight to her ear. The moment she felt his hot breath tingle her skin, she was hopeless; she had a strong inkling she knew what kind of thoughts he was talking about, and waiting for the confirmation like for a sentence.

"I know your fantasy," he whispered in his deep voice. "I know about everything you want to be done to you. I heard it loud and clear."

Each word was almost like a separate touch between her legs.

Suddenly everything made sense. The dates aligned - she remembered that night her thoughts went wild, her mind playing out every erotic scenario she wanted to experience while she pleasured herself on her bed, but didn't even get half the satisfaction she wished for. Little did she know it made him realise how much he desired her, how much he wanted to act out his own dreams with her, and he decided he would make it happen.

Y/N was surprised herself, but she was not embarrassed at all while listening to him - on the contrary, it was turning her on, and the only fear she had was that he knew her emotions.

"Well, thinking that is not an offence..." she replied breathily, not daring to think he had something else on his mind other than scolding her, even if deep down she wanted him to have.

"That's not what I'm talking about."

He was still speaking against her ear, craning his neck from time to time to watch the expression on her face. Her lips were parted, her gaze half-lidded, and he was intoxicated by that view. Eventually, he decided he wanted to see more of it.

He put his cold, gloved hand on her hot cheek, and the feeling of the leather itself sent a shiver down her spine. All of this was the last thing she expected to be doing that day - but she wished it would never end. He never acted like this, but he always had an effect on her...

He guided her head gently so she would face him, the subtle touch almost igniting a flame between them. She was sure that if he had no gloves on, it would drive her crazy.

After a moment of silence, Kylo spoke while looking right into her eyes. "You're talking to this guy... Do you think he can do it? Do you think he can make you feel as good as you want? Do you think he could fulfil your fantasy?"

His gaze alone was penetrating her, petrifying her completely as the provoking questions echoed against the walls of the spacious room.

She gave in.

"It's not him whom I'd like to fulfil it with."

That sentence alone made him heave a sigh as blood rushed through his entire body. He didn't even need to use the Force; her eyes told him everything he wanted to know.

"Who, then?" he asked even though the answer was right there, in the way she gazed at him.

They both felt that question between their legs.

The only thing stopping him from ripping clothes off of her was that he wanted to do this right, especially now that he knew she desired him just as much. Besides, he would love to catch her off guard one day...

"You could have just told me," he said, making her snort.

"You could have not entered my thoughts."

"You will thank me for doing this," he whispered against her lips, making her heart stop for a split second. She was anticipating something, anything, any touch, words, any action from him, hoping beyond hope he would let the lust from his eyes take over.

He brushed his gloved finger over her bottom lip, trying not to give into the frenzy too quickly. A smirk formed on his face as he was already planning what he'd do to her.

"Let's meet again soon."

He left her that day with arousal, disappointment and anticipation all at the same time.

The next few days were a hell to go through. Kylo Ren didn't leave her thoughts not even for a second, making focusing on her duties almost impossible. But how could she not be thinking about him when she remembered the words he had told her with the velvety voice, when the feeling of his hand still seemed to linger on her cheek? She was constantly alerted, just waiting for the moment he decides to take her back to his quarters.

To make matters worse, he realised what she was daydreaming about, and he absolutely loved it. He made sure she saw him every day so both of them would crave the other person even more, and he was just waiting for the best opportunity to show her that only he could give her the pleasure she had fantasised about.

The opportunity presented itself one calm evening, almost two weeks later, when the tension between them was so high both Kylo and Y/N wanted to throw themselves on the other at any given moment. That evening, she finished her shift and intended to go straight to her room to rest, but Admiral Fando approached her before she could even leave her console.

"Where are you headed?"

"To my quarters, where else?" she replied in a surprised tone as she stood up from her chair.

"Well, you look and smell exceptionally well today, I thought you had some other plans." He smiled at her, and she was given yet another confirmation Kylo was right about him.

But she did look and smell better. Ever since her tense encounter with Ren, she tried to take better care of her appearance, should he decide to invite her again. She shaved herself to the root and used the most deliciously smelling lotion she could access.

"Thank you, but that is just me caring about myself," she replied, making sure everything was in place for the shift coming after her.

"But if you don't have any other plans... Then maybe you'll come and visit my quarters instead."

And Kylo Ren heard that. Every word, loud and clear, even though he was far away from where Fando was standing. It railed him up immediately; this was the moment. He couldn't wait anymore.

Y/N was flabbergasted. She suspected he might eventually ask her this, but had no idea how to react once it happened.

"That is a bit unprofessional, isn't it, Admiral?" she replied half seriously, half jokingly, trying to get out of the situation.

"Oh, come on. I'm not asking anything weird," he continued. "We can just drink tea and talk."

Y/N let out a sigh. She wanted to refuse, but it was quite complicated since he was her superior and it felt like it was against the protocol.

"It's very nice of you, but I..."

"Come on, Y/N," he cut her off, moving closer to her. "I know you're not taken. Do not act unavaila..."

He trailed off because a loud gasp escaped her lips, one that was unexpected by both parties.

"What's going on?" Fando frowned.

Y/N wished she could explain. Just a moment before, she felt something touch her, like an invisible hand, right between her legs. A shiver of pleasure went down her as she realised whose hand it must have been.

Before she even opened her mouth to respond, her heart racing, she sensed presence somewhere behind herself... And soon, a man in a mask was towering over her and Fando, wrath radiating from him.

It all happened in a split second. One move of Kylo's hand was enough; Fando was thrown against the wall, then fell to the floor with a yelp of pain. Ren didn't even give him a second glance as he spoke to Y/N again:

"Follow me."

She did not dare disobey him, did not dare to check on Fando who was whimpering on the floor... She followed Ren step by step to his quarters, and the moment the door closed behind them, he cornered her.

"I told you it would come to this," he said with disappointment, trapping her between the wall and his body, enveloping her in the feeling of smallness.

"He approached me first, I just replied." She intended to respond loudly and proudly, but her voice failed her as he inched closer.

"Then I'll show you," he grabbed the sides of his helmet and took it off aggressively, "why you shouldn't even reply to scum like him." He threw the helmet into the ashes, his eyes never leaving hers.

She suppressed a shiver as he put a gloved hand under her chin. Her eyes, wide and full of admiration, were staring back at him, and he couldn't get enough of that view.

He smirked. "I should have done this sooner."

"Then stop talking and start doing already. You left me waiting for so long," she said before she could stop herself, making him sneer.

"Cocky, aren't you?" He took his hand back. "Why don't we change that?"

For a split second, fear overtook her as he took a step back, and she had no idea what he was about to do. He threw his cape off, then put one of his hands in front of him, brows furrowed in concentration.

Two invisible hands cupped her breasts at the same time, pulling out a gasp out of her yet again. This further confirmed he was the one responsible for what she felt back at the bridge. It was such a weird sensation, but a pleasurable one, something being there and not existing at the same time, vibrating, pulsating against her body while he wasn't touching her at all. He had never done this to her before.

"I-" She sighed heavily, trying to form a sentence as the large hands massaged her breasts. "I didn't know you- you could do that."

He clearly enjoyed these words as he smirked again. "See? You've underestimated me... Not the first person who has..."

He moved closer to her, maintaining the Force touch - and it made her want to act, too.

"You underestimate me as well, Kylo."

She stood on her tiptoes to grab him by the neck and bring him to her lips. Caught by surprise, he lost focus for a split second, but then quickly seized the initiative again. His invisible hands were untying her hair and taking off her hat or gloves, while his real ones were roaming her body, looking for openings in her uniform.

Minutes passed and she was beginning to lose her breath. She had never thought he'd be kissing her, yet there she was, letting his tongue in anywhere he wanted.

He eventually grabbed her buttock with his one hand and her thigh with the other, raising it so she would wrap it around him. When she did, his arm travelled to her nape, and he held it tight to kiss her hungrily. Hell, fire was flowing through him while he was doing it. Who knew her taste would be so addictive, her lips so soft he could nibble and lick them constantly? Had he known all of this, he would have been devouring her ages ago.

His kisses were hungry and demanding, making her dizzy, but that was just what she wanted. At that moment, she was so drunk on his taste, scent and noises she would allow him to do anything to her. Each of his sharp breaths, loud grunts to keep focus on the Force, the strong, fresh scent that lingered on his body... All of these things made her notice him and him only.

"Fuck," she whimpered against his lips when his real hand slipped underneath her pants. He immediately circled her clit through the material of her panties, causing her to buckle her hips.

He let out a triumphant laugh. "Look at you, and I haven't even started yet..."

The invisible hands took off her boots, and then her pants, roughly, almost causing her to lose balance. Kylo pulled her towards the circular to sit on it, and then made her settle on his thigh.

It was huge. She felt it well as she straddled it, heat from between her legs already spreading throughout her half-dressed body. She knew what he was doing; it was a picture taken straight from her mind, one of many he must have seen...

"I don't think I have to tell you your own fantasy..." he said, planting a kiss on her neck. "Ride it," he added in a commanding voice. He meant it.

The first thrust of her hips pulled a moan out of both of them. When she noticed it was already much more pleasurable than rubbing herself against furniture, she grabbed his arms as tightly as possible to steady herself and began moving back and forth.

The friction did it for him. The invisible hands took her shirt off, while the real ones grabbed her hips strongly enough to leave marks on them. She didn't restrain herself from any noises, and they turned him on more than he thought they would; his pants becoming tighter on him was the best proof of it.

That's why he didn't let her do it for long. Without any warning, he cradled her in his arms and took her to his bed. He let her lie down on the black sheets as he stood in front of her, enjoying the view - she was already soaked, just like his thigh.

"I'm taking whatever I want now," he announced to her, looking her up and down with no shame.

She just smirked, because from her new position she could see the bulge in his pants, one she knew she caused. Who knew she could have such an effect on the Kylo Ren?

"Do it," she replied with no hesitation, craving for him.

He took his gloves off and tossed them to the floor before kneeling in front of the bed. Her heart stopped just for a moment; was he really going to do it? Was he going to fulfil her another fantasy this easily?

The answer came instantly - the Force pulled her panties down, and he used his bare hands to grab her thighs to open her legs. Flesh to flesh, the sensations were even more overwhelming.

She closed her eyes, waiting for what's to come and let out a squeal when he planted a kiss on her inner thigh, massaging them at the same time.

"Open your eyes, look what's coming for you," he demanded. "He wouldn't be able to do to you what I'm about to..."

She obeyed and saw his face for a split second before his mouth came in contact with her clit. A very long lick was followed by an absolute madness of licks and sucking, almost like he took his time to prepare for it. He wanted to make her shake, and it quickly turned out it was the right way to do it as he saw her grab at the sheets out of pleasure.

The moment she moaned out his name, Kylo became drunk on the control he had over her. He let go of one of her thighs to speed up the process of her becoming undone...

"You feel good?" he asked right before sliding two fingers inside her, earning himself the loudest moan yet.

She couldn't think straight enough to give him a cohesive answer. She grabbed him by his thick hair, burying his face in her. "Fuck, Kylo."

He snorted with satisfaction. "I'll take that as a yes."

He soon added a third finger to pump in and out of her, remembering the number from her thoughts. Even she, however, didn't expect them to be this big. The sensations were indescribable; his tongue nor his fingers didn't slow down for a second, making her think she was about to have an orgasm and a heart attack.

She came. She came for the first time in months, because she couldn't quite reach that level of pleasure herself. A powerful orgasm rocked through her, her legs shaking, her breath shallow, and at that moment she was sure no other man than Kylo Ren could make her feel like that. Maybe it was the Force, maybe it was his size, maybe it was her desire for him - either way, she hadn't even hoped it would feel this good.

He let her ride it out to the end, then stood up, his face and fingers glistening - the proof of her satisfaction.

She began sitting up slowly, trying to catch her breath. "Kylo, I-"

"Stay where you are." He pressed her back into the mattress with a wave of his arm. "I am not done. I want you to not be able to think about anything else than this."

Y/N didn't even get to cool down and she was already turned on again. She watched in awe as he removed his pants and boxers, revealing his erected cock without any shame. Her mouth fell agape; not only because it was the first time seeing him naked, but also because it meant he intended to go as far as they could.

He looked at her with authority, clasping a hand around his length - as a result, she felt even smaller than in reality. If he were to interrogate her, she would be cowering, but at that moment, she was excited and waiting.

"Now, can you give me one more?" he asked quietly, his voice working wonders on her.

"Depends on what you're about to do."

"Make you beg," he used the Force to open her legs even wider, "for more."

Before she could respond, he started slowly rubbing his cock along her cunt, letting out a grunt that made her roll her eyes back. It went on for a few seconds, the sound of the wetness echoing in the room and arousing them even more.

And then, without warning, he slid into her with just the tip, then pulled out quickly. He repeated that a few times, slowly driving her insane.

"Kylo... Please..."

That's what he wanted to hear.

"Tell me what you want and you'll get it."

She gulped. The perspective of telling him what was on her mind seemed humiliating, especially that he knew exactly what she wished for.

She tried to save herself. "I cannot give orders to you."

As she expected, he did not buy it.

"Say what you want. That is my order," he replied, moving the tip once more to stimulate her further.

She closed her eyes as if bracing for impact. Alright. She could do it. It were mere words separating from another wave of pleasure. They were nothing compared to the fact that she was lying there with her legs open for him, weren't they?

She took one last deep breath. "I want you inside me."

He smiled with satisfaction. "As I thought."

He ended her torture as promised. He slid into her, slowly, because it was a lot; after all, nothing about him was small-sized.

She thought he would stay standing, but it wasn't the case. Right after a few of the first thrusts, he put his hands on either side of her body and continued dragging his body passionately, making sure to fill her up completely each time. She felt unbelievable.

"Who is making you feel good now?" he asked after hearing a moan from her, trying to hide the grunts of pleasure which were taking over him as well. "Who is the only person who can?" he rasped, keeping his head close to her neck to kiss it.

"You." She breathed heavily, her whole body shifting on the bed with each of his movements. "Only you."

He used the Force to keep himself steady and grabbed her wrists with his hands, pinning them over her head just to feel even a bit more of control. There was no mercy in his thrusts, ones he had been waiting for for days, the sexual tension finally resolving.

She didn't know if she were to have another orgasm, but he was certainly coming to one. She could hear and feel it as the powerful thrusts became sloppier, and the loudest grunt yet escaped his lips.

"You'll take it all," he almost growled, "for me."

That was his last warning before he reached his peak, letting all of it fill her up. It was insane, the whole scene, the emotions, the sounds of their breathing in the spacious room...

He placed one last desire-filled kiss on her lips, then stood up eventually, pulling out of her, leaving her with her wrists burning. She had no energy to raise again, and he stood there, watching with triumph how his cum flowed out of her.

For a moment, there was a silence, in which they both tried to regain rational thinking... And realise what had just happened, and that there was no turning back - but neither of them regretted it, not even a second. They both got what they wanted and were already thinking about repeating it.

Kylo used the Force once more to pull her closer, then put his hand under her chin again.

"You're not going to even think about anyone else now, are you?"

She smirked, still feeling his cum dripping down her thigh. "Is that your way of saying you want me only for yourself?"

"You're so right."

#kylo #kylo ren #kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo smut #kylo x reader #star wars #ben solo #ben solo x reader #ben solo smut #Star Wars fanfic #star wars fanfiction #smut #kylo ren fanfiction #one shot

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py-dreamer · 2 months

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So... I know I'm late...

But yea! I said I was coming back with some stickers and I kept my word! I would've hoped that I could've completed the sheet in like a day but as you can see...that didn't work out

I know I've been a bit MIA lately but burnout sucks. I do have a lot of WIPS I really want to work on but again, it seems that the ProcrastiNation hath struck my feeble mortal brain again.

But anyways:

I headcanon Aroace Mei, just a personal headcanon (disagree if you like) I also like lesbian Mei but thought I'd give some aroace appreciation

Silktea was only given 1 episode but OH BOY did it fuel our wild shipping habits. And I jumped on the bandwagon. It's a reference to that scene in She-Ra where Scorpia tells Catra she 'didn't want to do this' then wraps kitty up in the blankey and cradles her like a wee baby. And Sandy would do that for any friend, I will die on this hill

Saw a fanart where Mk had a pig nose themed pacifier and I just yoinked that idea. The pig hoodie and the pacifier seems like something Tang would do for Pigsy (also to get away with free noodles cause who can say no to that face?~)

Mac showing Wukong the lantern. What can I say, mans' fascinated by them pretty lights. Though our little performer's eyes seem to be straying from the show (^u ')

I know many people have issues with shipping with Nezha and such and I know the two had a rough history but y'know what fans do; they love to make the people who kill each other soulmates (platonic, romantic or otherwise) Even if it wasn't romantic, I still love the idea of them being buddies and just chilling, the danger noodle prince and the angy prince snuggle and watch a movie (mainly from Nezha 2019 but I also saw New Gods and can I just say, I want those two twinks to bicker then kiss awkwardly and I want Yun Xiang to BEAT. HIS. ASS) but in case anyone asks, I do perceive Nezha to be a consenting adult in general outside shipping drama and if the two are adults, it does make my heart squeal when I see these two hold hands and whatnot

HOW COULD I EVER FORGET MY SPICYBOIS, inspired by that one Ponyo kiss scene. I was actually gonna make a bigger piece but then I saw someone do it already in a much better fashion than I ever could and I just gave up on the idea but Ig here, its just like the two cakes mentality and I gave it a go. Hope I could do the concept justice

Have spider queen or scorpion queen ever interacted before? No. But they are both queens and I believe Spider Queen's confidence could rub off on Scorpion Queen and she'd appreciate the company of Spider Queen's children henchmen. Also she give yummy food so lesbian venomqueens for the win

Redraw of that moment with Peng and Azure. I normally detest that bird but these two do get some gears grinding and whatever anyone says. Neither of those two are straight. I'll tell ya that.

Toxicinsanity is another rarepair that had like 1 sec screen time. I don't think they'd ever work out in canon and had virtually no chemistry. I still love all the fluffy ship content I can find of them though and if it ever were to happen. I think the mayor would scare the sh!t out of Syntax

Let's get at least one hetero couple here, Chang'e and Hou'Yi are a couple of favorites ngl, I took most of their outfits from Over the moon cause both of them looked stunning, Chang'e especially. I've seen people ship mah girl with other people and while I do agree it's healthy to move on, in my heart she will always long for Hou'Yi

Also irl, on valentines, my mum took us out for lunch, she treated us to bubble tea and donuts. We walked home so I waited to drink mah drink in my room while I drew and I accidentally finished it all... I'm so sorry mum

f*ck I forgot ironbull. Uhh....I'll draw something later, rn I need to go to bed before I get yelled at...

click pic for less sh!ty quality!

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helluvabossrewrite45 · 4 months

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Hazbin Hotel Rewrite; Opening up at the Bar

From what I seen from hh with how it handles sa topics, it's very...questionable. Now the show hasn't still come out yet so I won't go into detail about it, but with how they use the song 'poison' and behind the scenes of it (viv making a sex joke as marketing the song and the lead storyboard shipping val x angel despite what it's meant to portray in canon) makes it understandable for people to critque the show's portrayal of it. So for here, I want to approach Angel's truama as respectfully as I can with Angel opening up to Husk as it seems to be the same episode where both of them improve their relationship. I hope I'm able to address sa well because I know it's a very delicate topic that shouldn't be written lightly (especially for truama responses like hypersexuality) so if you have any problems with how I written it and how I should change it, please let me know. I will rewrite it until I portray this topic properly and credit you for your critque/help (unless you don't want to)

Content Warning; SA and mention of drug/alcohol addiction

A bar full of bottles and boozes sitting there in windless silence, aching for their next customer. Its emptiness is numbing, the stranded desert of this hotel. Husk, tapping his fingers in rhythm, halts it as though the ticking of a clock stops and sighs in relief, grateful that his work is now done. He takes a bottle of booze, fulfilling its fate as he opens the lid to drain it all down, until he hears the door creaking.

He groans “Oh it’s you,” as Angel Dust drags himself towards the bar, collapsing his face to the poseur table. “What do you want now? Bar’s gonna close soon. So hurry up.”

Angel’s face tilts up. “A drink, please.” His voice is soft yet hoarse.

Husk rolls his eyes, wishing for that sweet graveness to enter this bar once again. He goes through his bottles. “Which one?” He asks with a hostile glare.

“Any.”

Angel Dust slowly lifts himself up from the table, staring in discomfort at Husk grabbing a random bottle from his shelf, a sense of dread lingers onto him.

“Husk…” His voice grows quiet.

“What?”

“I’m…sorry.” His eyes not meeting Husk’s gaze.

“For what?” He responds snappily, placing one hand to his hip.

“For earlier…” Angel answers, his eyes still refusing to see Husks. “For saying and doing all those weird things to you, I'm sorry.”

His grouchy face still remains. “Whatever,” firmly placing the bottle to the table and swishing it towards Angel. “Don’t do that again.”

“Yeah,” his body tenses, “I hope so…”

Husk brows raised. “Hope so? What do you mean?”

The question hangs on as Angel Dust fiddles their hands, looking down at the wooden dry floor. The room has been fogged in silence as Husk finds himself repeatedly tapping his fingers, wondering when the clock will finally end its grating tick.

“Well…” His voice quivers, tracing his eyes back to Husks. “I don’t know…”

Husk’s face turned puzzled. “The hell you mean you don't know?!”

“I-” Angel pauses himself for a moment, “I don't know. I just don’t know.” His face bangs on the table as his arms come to cover.

“Ah well, might just be a you problem then.” He cackles at his own joke, with hollow applause.

Angel huffs, “That’s what you all think.” His voice became more irritated.

Husk’s laughter abrupt into cold stillness, his voice freezes with the rest of his body.

Angel continues, “All of you think i’m just some dirty sex pest, huh? A running sex joke?” Anger starts to rise through his voice, “Even Charlie thinks what I do is just who I am- like I chose this!” He cuts himself off, facing down to the lifeless floor again. “Like I chose this…”

Husk words vanished, his voice having trouble coming out of his mouth. All he could do is stand there, watching Angel Dust ponder through his thoughts.

“You know I don’t actually like being sexual twenty-four seven? Crazy right?” He formed a smile, though not by sweetness, but by bitterness. “I don’t actually like making endless sex jokes or dirty talk, I don’t actually like to constantly fantasise or masturbate or sleep around with a bunch of nobodies,” bitterness starts to spread through his voice, “and I especially don’t like working in that place!” He holds his breath, exhaling to serene air. “But I do it anyway, no matter how hard I try.” His finger scratched the table harshly with a melancholic frown. “I don’t know what is wrong with me, I didn’t used to be like this, it was only after-” Angel cuts himself off as his body starts trembling. He places a heart on his hand, feeling the rapid sounds of his heartbeat. “After…” He slows himself, unable to muster anything else to speak of.

His eyes lift to Husk, seeing the statue that he became, his widened pupils not even taking one blink. Angel’s face rose with worry, “Oh uh…sorry.” He murmurs. “Sorry, I’ll just take the booze or-”

“Go on.” Husk's voice comes back again.

“W-what?” He quivers, taken aback by what he heard.

“Go on…” Husk's voice trails off, still a statue of himself.

Angel Dust pursed his lips, facing down once more. “There was a time back then, when I sneaked into a bar for some alcohol, the thing that helped me most when I was alive. There was a really fancy bottle, porcelain white shimmering with bubbles, I couldn’t help myself. I had to have it. Then he caught me, I thought he would kill me. Instead, he made a deal; that if I work in his business, I won’t need to steal anything or even need a place to stay…” He breaks off, his fingers scraping themselves to a shell. “So I worked as one of his sex workers; a stripper for his bars, an actor for his films, anything to do with sex, really. It wasn’t what I was always interested in, but it felt…better? Being more open and honest about myself that I never got to do on earth. That is, until I came back to his home…He told me he wanted to show me something, my ‘reward’...” He holds back on his words, wrapping his arms around in a warm embrace. “After that, I…I don't know, I guess that’s where I started becoming more sexual. It’s like a switch where my mind now constantly thinks about sex, even if it’s not what I want. It’s my poison.” He holds onto his words again, reflecting his thoughts. “Maybe it’s a way of control, to take back what he did to me, not letting him hurt me…but is it any good if you can’t control it yourself?” He finds himself eyeing at the bottle of toxicated liquid. “That’s why I came here, I couldn’t find any drugs. So alcohol will just have to do.”

Husk exhales a quiet breath, with Angel’s words stalling through his mind. He saw Angel reaching for the bottle. “Wait!” He alerts, taking the bottle before Angel could have the chance. Angel looks at him, confound. “Why?” Husk fell silent, wavering on his memory like a lightning struck in a bottle. He places the bottle back to its fateless place and starts rummaging through the tea bags until one reads ‘Black Caravan Tea’. He places the tea bag in a muggy cup and clicks the kettle to brew. Minutes go by as the kettle finally makes its thump, breaking Husks trance as he pours the steamy water onto the cup and gently pushes it over to Angel. “Here” He says softly. “Careful, it’s hot.” Angel slowly directs his eyes to the hot tea, then back to Husk, his mouth making a quiet gasp. “I know it’s not much,” He adds. “But for you, I hope it can be enough.”

Angel dust calmly blows the steam off his tea and takes a sip, warm smoky sweetness filling his mouth in peaceful bliss. He continues sipping it at a slow pace, enjoying each moment with him and his magical tea, transforming his mind to ocean waves, hearing its soothing whooshes and the pleasant echoes of bird’s chirping. After taking one last sip, he notices Husk with his own muggy cup, cooling off the steam before slurping down the whole tea to an empty cup. His grouchy face disappeared, replacing it with a genial smile; friendly and relaxed. Like warming his face with radiant golden sunlight.

“What’s this?” Angel asks as soon as Husk tastes his last drop.

“Black Caravan.” Husk replies, licking his lips. “My Babushka always makes this tea, saying ‘If you get upset, don’t waste your mouth with vodka, relish it with Caravan.’” He glimpses away from Angel dust, shining a little star in his eyes before glaring at the shelves of bottles and boozes. “Heh, no wonder I hadn’t remembered…”

Angel snickers. “My Nonno says something similar. He said; ‘You don’t stuff your mouth with alcohol, you stuff it with Frittelie!’” They both chuckle with each other, reminiscing of their old lives before the room went to silence. Both eyes looking away from each other as Angel proceeds to fiddle with his hands and Husk tapping his table, now only slow and with no rhythm. A clock’s final strikes till midnight. “You know,” He spoke solemnly. “After you're done with work and all, instead of finding drugs, you can come straight here to talk or have some tea. Either one or both to get off some steam.”

Angel glances back to Husk’s sentimental gaze, his eyes lit up. “You’ll…You’ll do that?”

“Yeah.” He responds, keeping his gaze to Angel Dusts. “I’d do. For you…”

Their eyes locked in their gazes, their beating hearts twined to one another. Angel’s eyes turn away from the burning faint shades of pink of his face, looking steadily at the cup. “Yeah,” a small line shaped to a tender smile, “I’d like that.”

#hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin critical #hazbin criticism #hazbin critique #hazbin hotel rewrite #tw sa #tw sa mention #tw sa implied #tw drug use #tw drug addiction #tw drug mention #tw alcohol #tw alcohol addiction #tw alchohol mention

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lupinedreaming · 8 months

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As it is the time of year when I re-enter Beetlejuice mode, I’m kind of looking back and wondering /why/Beetlebabes was (and still is to an extent) such a divisive ship. I understand not liking the underage version; I don’t like it either. I think underage stuff is gross. But most people seem to ship it in scenarios when Lydia is an adult.

Part of my confusion is from encountering similar ships that barely get any backlash? Like, I’ve read aged up Sarah/Jareth fic in the past, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen much backlash against it, and that ship is pretty similar in a lot of ways to Beetlebabes. There are also villain ships here on Tumblr that are waaay darker and problematic, but they’re very popular. I’ve never seen the Hannibal show, but Hann/igram continues to be wildly popular on this site, and from what I’ve gathered, it’s a pretty damn f’d up ship.

But yeah! Idk what sets people off so hard with even adult, consensual Beetlebabes stuff. There have been times when I’m browsing the general Beetlejuice tag, and I’ll see people talking about how much they hate the ship and people who like it even enough I haven’t seen /any/ content for the ship in the main tag. If you’re encountering it in the wild on Tumblr, it’s pretty easy to filter the tag and block people. It’s also easy to filter that tag on AO3.

But people act like they’re being forced to view it at gunpoint or something or like glimpsing art of the ship will make then go mad with the knowledge like a Lovecraft protagonist lmao. I think people should be able to talk about why they don’t like a ship or why they find it problematic, but with this one, some people seemingly want to push anyone out of the fandom that ships it. To paraphrase the MST3K mantra, “It’s just a (ship); (you) should really just relax.”

#🌹 eclipse talks #beetlebabes #If you dislike this ship and see this post please just block and move on. I won’t reply if you try to argue

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waitmyturtles · 2 months

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Dead Friend Forever: I managed to catch up in time to watch the finale, and here are my immediate, uneducated, "holy shit" thoughts

First off: I acknowledge I am an utter interloper on this tag, having written exactly zero meta words about this mostly great show. Second: everything I know about slashers comes from my childhood memories of "Scream," and my recent conversations with the lovelies @lurkingshan and @neuroticbookworm. So I'm not an expert here. Thirdly! I was inspired in part by them to watch this, and also by the friendies who jumped into comments on my recent KinnPorsche liveblog watches for my Old GMMTV Challenge project. I've been waiting these past few weeks to finish Dead Friend Forever before putting pen to paper on my KP rewatch thoughts, because I thought Be On Cloud did something fabulously experimental with DFF as its second major serial drama.

Anyway: all of this is to say that now that DFF is over, in the near future, I'm gonna write a bunch on KP and a bit more on DFF -- but I want to offer just some quick wandering thoughts on DFF now.

I think like many of y'all, I found the tone of the last PheeJin moments to be discordant with the tenor of the rest of the finale episode. The way I'm calculating this, as I'm sure many of you are, is that I think there was a commentary on fate and Buddhist purgatory, particularly with New/Tan being able to hear from a thankful Non one more time before New's passing. New suffers, it seems to me, the least painful death, and I think that was in part Non’s doing.

In order to conclude the tone on PheeJin, I do wish that we would have seen a flashback back to PheeJin at the house. I guess we’d assume that Phee and Jin never regained their consciousness, that the antidote didn’t work, and that their cyclical fate would be returning back to the lakeshore, only to be haunted by Non again. While it seems to me that Tee, in whatever realm of fate they ended up in, got his appropriate ending — I don’t think that the PheeJin cyclical ending at the lakeshore assigned enough “blame” of fate to either of them, especially Jin. I know @lurkingshan notes that that’s a nod to the need to appease any hopes of surviving ships, and I agree with that assessment. But also — god, BLEH, they sucked, we were left with PheeJin?! JIN??? My boy White, my bubbala, he’s the good one that got really in-your-face off-ed? Wah. (But I do see and understand why White needed to die, to make Tee’s residual fate the utter living hell he deserves.)

Like I said: on a more macro note, I’m gonna have thoughts about DFF, Be On Cloud, and KP in the coming days, because I just like that BOC is dabbling with some experimental writing while allowing solid acting to really shine. (And I compare that to what’s happening at Idol Factory and the recent writing miss that was The Sign.) I wish the ending wasn’t as milquetoast as it was, but BOC still traffics in BLs, and I guess they felt they needed to throw the fans some kind of BL bone (huh huh).

But overall? I am REALLY GLAD I watched this, and it absolutely belongs on the OGMMTVC syllabus. This was incredibly new for the Thai BL genre, and I gotta give BOC — AND ESPECIALLY BARCODE AND TA, WOW — their flowers for taking Thai BL into this new direction. For the most part of this run, I had a great time with this show, as brutal as the content was.

#dead friend forever #dead friend forever meta #dead friend forever the series #dff the series #barcode tinnasit #ta nannakun #sammon

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dinogoofymutated · 14 days

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Enemies to lovers! Quicksilver/GN!Reader

So no one requested this but I can't get it out of my head so it's going here!! I absolutely love quicksilver in the comics and the animated shows but most of his content is from the movies. I'm not complaining! But I wanted to branch that out a bit lol. I guess you can imagine almost any Pietro, but I was picturing his personality from Wolverine and the X-men. Haven't seen it in a while so forgive me if this is OOC.

This is set pre-dead professor. I might have also gotten a little carried away with this one, lol, and there will be a part 2! Fights and stuff are kept super vague for my mental health sorry if it's shitty.

-ps- someone let me know if Pietro's super speed counts for swimming too??

TWS: Tlasophobia (possibly?) Almost drowning. Dehydration, wounds.

You weren't sure if you considered Quicksilver an enemy, a rival, or an arch-nemesis, but the one thing you did know was that Pietro Maximoff was the most annoying motherfucker on the planet. Seriously! As part of the X-men, he seemed to always be in your way in every major fight.

What didn't help was that you were a speedster in your own right- well, not on land that is. The same gene that blessed others with powers beyond comprehension turned you into... a fish? Sure, you were fine on land, able to blend in with regular humans, but the moment you hit the water you were completely different. Gills, fins, the works. And you were fast. Really fucking fast.

Now when you first met Pietro while on a mission, he was being a snarky bastard. Can't catch me this, too slow that, ha! The guy may be able to run on water, but he's clumsy when he's in it. You're sure you have his face memorized from the time you caught up with him beneath the waves, tugging on his ankle and pulling him into the sea. His eyes practically bulged out of his head when realized what had happened. Of course, you're sure his face was even funnier when he watched you speed off into the depths, having neutralized him for the moment.

Every fight after that turned into a contest. Who can beat who where, Who stranded the other first, easily taking them out of the battle quickly and efficiently. Things like that. The professor had to remind you sometimes that the goal is to protect others, protect humanity, not quarrel with Quicksilver. You knew that, of course. You're thankful for the professor and what he's trying to do- but every time you saw Pietro's stupid arrogant smile you just got so- aggravated!

That being said, just because he aggravated you, didn't mean you wanted him dead. In fact, fate would keep pulling the two of you together in the least expected ways.

First, it was you, saving him from a sinking ship. He had slipped and managed to knock himself out during the fight, you having found him while trying to ensure everyone was off the boat. You were conflicted at first, knowing he was your enemy but not wanting to leave him to drown. In the end, you had grabbed him. The problem was that he wasn't breathing when you made it to the shore.

Some aggressive CPR and a few broken ribs later, he was coughing up water from his lungs. You, surprisingly, were at his side, holding him steady. Pietro was confused at first, letting you help him sit up as he coughed his lungs out, but his expression completely changes when he looks up and realises who's been holding him up. He makes an incredulous face at first, then rising to his feet in a split second, although not without swaying. He eyed you suspiciously as you stood to face him.

"You shouldn't be moving so fast straight away. I'm sure I broke a few ribs trying to get you back." You said. He sets a hand on his side wincing as he Most likely prods at a few bruises.

"Why did you...?" He can't seem to finish the scentace, and you simply shrug. You couldn't leave him there. As annoying as he was, you wouldn't wish a death by drowning on anyone. You're pretty sure you'd have saved him in any other circumstances as well, but you choose not to think about that right now. His face of confusion morphs into slight seriousness, and when he looks back to the ocean to see the Brotherhood is long gone he stands for a moment. You can almost see the gears whirring in his head, and reach out to take his arm.

"Look, I get that you recover fast and all, but you should really take it easy-" Before you finish your scentace, you've been shoved back into the sand dune. Pietro is standing further away from you than before, arms crossed as the sand settles from his quick movement. You stare at him in shock.

"Your loss." He says, sticking his tongue out before speeding off and across the water, kicking up sand in your face as he does so. UGH! Even when you go out of your way to be nice, He's a dick!

Despite him being a straight up asshole the last time you saw him, it's safe to say something between you has changed. You couldn't quite place it, but you could see it in the way you would fight. What would have been brutal punches shifted to major inconveniences, like handcuffing you to a railing and things like that. Incapacitating you without dragging you further into the fight. In fact, he hadn't even snatched you up to run and drop you off hours away from the fight for a while. Beforehand, he loved to strand you somewhere land-locked, forcing you to wait until the X-men came to pick you up. Sometimes it would take days for them to get to you, so you were almost always on guard, staying close to or in the water so he couldn't catch you.

You had gotten used to the new Quicksilver, and what used to be a rock-solid defence and begun to crumble. That was your mistake. The next time you saw Pietro, there most definitely a shift in the air. This fight was going to be brutal, but you and the team had prepared for it. You thought you had anyway. But with your friends getting injured, the fight dragging on, taking a turn for the worse, you were genuinely beginning to fear for everyone's lives.

It wasn't long after that relvation that your head was spinning, and you were being plopped down on a gritty, sandy surface.

"Sorry babe, you'll thank me later!" You clench your jaw at the sound of his voice, catching the sight of sandy dunes as you tried to turn around to rip into the man.

"Pietro!-" Your venomous words were cut off as a blur of silver rushes off, kicking up a gust of wind and leaving you stranded. Worse than stranded, you would say. Pietro had left you in a desert. A bright, dry, hot ass desert. And it was not going well for you.

Not only did you have no clue where you were going, but you were beginning to realize that you were in a really bad position. It was like every drop of moisture was being sucked out of your body. Your mouth felt dry and cottony, exhaustion setting in a little too easily. You were dizzy, dehydrated, and hopelessly lost. The sun had no mercy for you. Eventually, you have to lie down, doing your best to stay awake and not fall asleep, worrying about the worst, but eventually your drooping eyes win over your will to remain awake.

The sun is starting to set when you wake up, throat dry as a bone, both sickly and exhausted. You can hear the sound of something approaching, and do your best to sit up on your knees, doubling over for a moment before forcing your body to love. A pair of legs step right in front of you as you do.

"Wow, You look terrible." Quicksilver says, and if you didn't know any better, you would almost say he looks concerned. You don't have the energy to roll your eyes or speak to him at the moment, stars flickering in your eyes as you start to sway. You start to teeter, before you're snatched off the desert sand, Pietro having caught you and scooped you up into his arms.

"Worse than terrible, actually." He mumbles this time. His concern is clear now, face close enough to your own for you to properly see him. You scoff, or at least attempt to.

"You... left an aquatic mutant... in the middle of the desert. What were you expecting?" You say, having to pace yourself. You're fully leaning your head against his shoulder now, not having the energy to keep your head up anymore. You can feel him suck in a breath and tense up as you begin to go limp against him. His hold tightens up on you before he takes off running.

You've always been accustomed to extreme speeds, at least mostly, but the combination of how ill you feel and his sudden stop makes you want to puke. You can't bear to open your eyes at the moment, choosing instead to bury your face in Quicksilver's shoulder. You're sure he's taken you to some random place to leave you to die, but he sets you down on something soft and cushioned.

"...Where-?"

"You're in the mansion." He says quickly, cutting you off. You stare at him in disbelief as he stands back up, and you realise he's taken you to the medbay. You and Pietro make eyecontact for a moment, both wondering what to say. Eventually, you watch as pietro moves across the room to purposely set off the alarm, which you know for a fact he knew how to avoid. He turns back to you, winking as he readies himself to speed off again.

"See you soon, slowpoke." He says. You make a face at him and he laughs. In a blink, he's gone, just as the doors bust open, Beast running in frantically, with the professor rolling close behind him.

You cant quite figure out this man. Normally, he'd just leave you to fend for yourself. He's never come back to get you before. Why would he do it then? At first you were sure he put you out in the desert as a deliberate attempt to leave you for dead, but now? He seemed genuinely concerned for you, and you're not sure how to feel about that.

In the end, only Pietro knew why he came back. Or did he? Maybe he was just as confused and conflicted as you were.

Only time would tell.

#x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #quicksilver #quicksilver x reader #pietro maximoff #pietro maximov #pietro maximoff x reader #quicksilver headcannons #x men headcanons #wolverine and the x men

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monstersandmaw · 2 years

Text

Male ‘yautja inspired’ alien x gender neutral reader - Part Five (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Oops, I tripped over all your lovely comments from the last chapter and fell face-first into some plot. Sorry. Thank you for the sweet things you’ve said so far though. You’re absolutely wonderful people. Things move on a bit more in the next chapter, but there’s a reveal some of you have been waiting for in this one...

Aaaaand as I’ve said at the start of all of these chapters, this is NOT a yautja fanfic. Yes, they’re basically yautja to look at, but otherwise they’re just aliens I’ve made up that are inspired by all things predator. Don’t @ me with ‘corrections’ to the ‘lore’ - it’s my sandbox. I’m just making stuff up as usual.

Content: a bit of lore about Big Red and Croc’s species, a bit more about the aliens they’re hunting, and that reveal... Wordcount: 4804

Catch up here: Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw)

The storm seemed to have cleared hours ago, and since the crashing of the ship had probably cleared all of the most vulnerable branches already, there was hardly any debris on the ground. A circle of bright blue sky showed above the pines, and the air that hit your lungs was fresh and clear and cold.

The clearing was muddy though, and at the centre of it like a little troll-mound in a mire, sat your faithful, military issue tent with a single golden leaf resting atop it like a rosette. “I’d give you Best in Show,” you muttered fondly to the sturdy canvas as you unzipped it, grateful that your field training had covered how to pitch a tent securely, even if you hadn’t needed any of the other things like basic weapons handling in the end. The loaded tranquiliser gun had remained securely in its holster inside the tent since your first night, and you hadn’t even had to unsheathe the machete for firewood, let alone for self-defence.

Croc was nowhere to be seen, and the clearing was otherwise silent. Big Red had remained behind in the crashed ship, tinkering with something in the crumpled bridge and comms area near the nose of the once ‘arrowhead shaped’ ship, and you left him there in case your awkward moment truly had made him uncomfortable. The memory of his hands on your skin, his arms wrapped tightly around you, the tease of his mandibles over your hair, the rumble of his breath, the solid presence of him pressed behind you in the dark… all of it swirled through you in a never-ending kaleidoscope of sense memories and you struggled to pull yourself back together.

When you’d been told to get close to the aliens, you were pretty sure that that mandate had not extended to sharing a bed with one of them and developing a sizable crush on him.

“Fuck.”

The idea of having to leave the next day made your stomach writhe, and the mood that morning in the camp was sombre. You had absolutely no intention of baring yourself to that frigid stream again so soon, so in the privacy of your tent, you freshened up with a few face wipes and mulled over everything you’d learned and everything that had happened.

During the course of the morning, Croc and Red continued to work together to pile up and sort out all the salvaged material from their ship, and while they worked, they chittered and clicked back and forth in quiet, private conversation. Croc, despite the loss of his entire left arm from the bicep down, barely seemed inconvenienced by it, and you marvelled again at the resilience of the species.

Sitting on a spare crate in the autumn sun, you took the opportunity to type up a load of notes on what you’d discovered of their species, and what they’d told you about their enemy here on Earth. The higher-ups would be particularly interested in that, you figured, so you made sure to get the details down as accurately as possible. The creatures were apparently highly aggressive, intelligent — though not as smart as their hunters or as humans — and their best guess at how they’d spread so very long ago was in the cargo bay of a mining ship that had travelled to one of the asteroids that the inhabitants of Secundus had once mined for ores and minerals. Much more recently, a rare swarm of hatchlings had decimated what Croc had called a ‘waystation’ — some kind of space hub — and had probably then hitch-hiked unnoticed on a scientific ship that had landed on Earth some ten years ago. Luckily, the creatures were relatively slow to reproduce, otherwise Earth could have been overrun before the hunters had even thought to check on it again.

“They’re not going to be pleased to know that your kind is responsible for them being here,” you muttered as you finished off another page.

Croc and Red shared a look, and Red nodded. “We have no solid proof that that’s how it happened. It is just a theory, but it’s why the High Council proposed that we extend aid to your planet in hunting them. So far, humans have reacted to our presence with… aggression, and it has been difficult to establish a stable contact between our species.”

“Until now,” you murmured, and they both nodded again. “You want me to take any particular message back then?” You doubted they were going to leave you with a direct number to call that led straight to this High Council, but it might represent the start of communications between species.

Big Red’s ship apparently had just such a communication stored in its data systems, but you had no way of transferring it to your phone. Human technology was apparently more ‘primitive’ than they’d anticipated, and it seemed like trying to copy a file from the cloud direct to a floppy disc. “I can play the audio from this —” he said, indicating his vambrace, “—and you can… record it,” he said with a nod at your phone. He regarded it like it was a fucking clay tablet, and you didn’t have the energy to argue with an alien over technology. Linguistics and communication was your strong suit, not tech.

“That should work,” you said. “Let’s try it.”

The quality of the audio was more than good enough, so you sat there and listened to it play out while he held his vambrace near enough to your phone that you could have reached out and touched his arm. The urge to do it — to let your fingers play over the textured marks, like cooling magma, on his shoulder and down his muscular arm towards his thick wrist — was enough to make your skin prickle. Instead, you focused on the words of the alien who was speaking on the recording.

“I am the Elder of the High Council,” the deep voice said, and you mouthed ‘female?’ at Red, who nodded. “You are receiving this communication because we have evidence that a dangerous, non-native, predatory creature has been sighted on your planet, and we wish to offer our assistance in exterminating it. For generations, we have hunted these creatures across space, and they are not easily defeated. Their saliva is corrosive, their venom lethal to almost every known species, their reactions are far quicker than even the fastest of your species can see, their stamina is unmatched by beast or machine, and their cruelty and delight in killing exceeds that of even the most dishonourable beings of the Great Species.”

At those last words, your brows pulled into a frown but Red shook his head to stop you interrupting with yet another question. Trusting that he would explain once you’d finished recording the audio, you sat tight and let it play out.

“We wish to send envoys to work with your people to eradicate these creatures before they take hold in your ecosystems. They cannot be destroyed by radiation. They cannot be poisoned or trapped. They can only be killed by the most skilled of warriors with the truest of aim and the deadliest weapons. The metals and alloys you currently use are insufficient to cause fatal damage to them. We will share our technology with you as a means of exterminating them. In return, we would ask that you cease hostile activities towards our ships and our people, release those you have captured, and return the bodies of those you have slain and stolen to desecrate by primitive investigative procedures. Allow our few fallen warriors the honour of a return to the elements, and we will assist you against this threat that will surely destroy you if you leave it unchecked. Send your response via any of the Ambassadors we have sent to your planet.”

You noted she didn't say that the creatures had thumbed a ride on one of their own spaceships, but you could see why she’d left that out. No need to antagonise the humans any more than necessary to start with. When Big Red tapped his vambrace and the recording fell silent, you stared at him for a long moment, questions spinning through your mind like dry autumn leaves.

“Great Species?” you asked, picking one at random as it swirled past.

Red jabbed his thumb absently against his chest. “We are one of five Great Species so far discovered that have intelligence that matches or exceeds our own. Your kind is one of them.”

“Oh,” you exhaled, then, “Five?”

“The other three have expressed little interest in humans, believing you primitive and unworthy of inclusion. You have barely begun to explore space while we have been travelling between systems for thousands of years already.”

“Right,” you exhaled. Fuck. “‘Ambassadors’?”

“Those of us who have come to your planet,” he explained. “There is a mothership waiting beyond your detection, but our… ‘commander’—” he said for want of a better translation, “— has sent down very few ships to the surface so far. We do not wish to overwhelm…” he said dryly. He waited while you let it all sink in, with his shoulders hunched and his mandibles soft around his jaw. It was a lot.

“You know the scientists back at base are going to kill me for not getting, like, tissue samples and blood work from you two. I haven’t even got a photo.”

Big Red cocked his head, and Croc looked up from where he’d been studying the screen on his own vambrace which he’d propped up on a crate instead of on his arm, presumably because it was designed to sit on his left arm, which he no longer had. “I’m not giving you any samples,” he grinned with a lascivious flare of his mouth that was oddly suggestive of a waggle of a human’s eyebrows, “And the Boss won’t either if he knows what’s good for him…” he added pointedly, “But you could take a photograph.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” you asked, looking back to Red.

He snorted and shook his head. “A few still images are not going to give away the secrets of our entire species. And we have hours of footage of you already,” he added, indicating his vambrace. “Anything my mask has seen of you is stored here.”

“Oh. That’s…” You weren’t sure exactly how you felt about that, but you figured if you were going to learn about each other, you’d both need some kind of data. “If I asked you to get rid of it, would you?”

They exchanged a look, and Red nodded slowly. Croc hissed at him, but Big Red stood firm and clicked his mandibles into a retort, at which Croc backed down, though only reluctantly. “Yes,” Red told you. “I would remove it.”

“Even if it meant disobeying direct orders,” Croc muttered as he got to his feet and stalked off in the direction of the ship.

“No, it’s fine,” you said quickly. “You can keep it. I trust you. So long as you didn’t record me naked in the stream…”

“I already removed that,” Big Red said carefully. “I had it set to thermal imaging, but you were hardly visible anyway because the water was so cold.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you puffed the air out of your lungs and laughed quietly. “Ok… Well, thank you.” Then you asked about something that had snagged your attention and stuck there like a burr since you’d heard it. “Red, what did she mean when she talked about releasing captives and returning bodies?”

At that, Big Red tensed. “Surely you know?” he asked in a whisper.

Shaking your head, you stared between Red nearby and Croc beside the ship. “Know what? Secret government experiments on aliens is for tinfoil hat conspiracy theorists… right?”

He didn’t look like he’d understood any of that, but he said after a moment, “Not all of us who came to Earth have left again afterwards. In five years, several of your countries… have managed to take warriors before we could initiate our… self-destruct function here,” he said with another wiggle of his vambrace. “Two have been captured alive, and at least six of our fallen… have not been accounted for.”

“Shit,” you hissed, feeling sick. Of course governments were studying them. God, you were naive to have thought otherwise even for a second, and another question left your lips before you could stop it. “Do you know which countries? Which… governments?”

He nodded.

“Ours?”

Again, he nodded. “Yours has two fallen and one living warrior that we know of.”

“Shit.” You swallowed and then reached for his arm at last, squeezing his hard muscles as tightly as you could. “Red, I don’t know how much I can help, but I swear I’ll do what I can to get them safely back to you. I swear it.”

With a soft, crooning chitter, he raised his other hand and cupped your face with his huge, rough palm. The pads of his fingers against your skin were textured like tiny ripples in the sand. His touch was careful and gentle, and he cradled your jaw and stroked his thumb across your cheek with a tenderness that left you aching inside and out as he keened softly and purred.

Your eyes fluttered closed and you leaned into the contact unconsciously.

When Big Red spoke next, his voice was low and gravelly, and the clicking of his tusks over the words made something spark deep inside you. “You are kind, and honourable. I… believe you will do as you say.”

“I will, Red,” you growled. “I promise.”

Even Croc, who was quick to crack a crass joke when things got heavy, stood and watched you for a long time before gently clicking something at his boss, who laughed quietly, almost sadly, and nodded. He stood and said, “Come. Take your photograph?”

It took a moment for you to gather yourself after such an open display of tenderness, but when you had rallied, you asked them to stand in front of the hole in the ship, side by side beneath the tarpaulin. They did, and after you’d taken one or two with them just standing there, Croc suddenly wrapped his arm around Big Red’s waist, pulled him close, opened his mandibles wide, and stuck his long, dark green tongue under the edge of Red’s mask.

Somehow you captured the exact moment his tongue touched Big Red, and you kept clicking as Red rounded on him in surprised disgust, looming right over him with his own mouth flared wide. He kicked Croc’s knees out from under him and Croc went down like a felled tree, though you could see that Red made sure he landed on his good side.

“You can’t even stand for a photo without causing trouble, Croc!” you called and he raised his head to look up at you, then flared his mouth with a horrible shriek, and collapsed theatrically back down to spread-eagle himself on the ground like he was making a snow angel. Luckily the rain hadn’t touched that part of the clearing because of the tarpaulin overhead and the way the ground sloped away from the ship, and when Big Red had hauled Croc back up to his feet, he brushed pine needles from his friend’s mottled back and thick ‘braids’, slapping him once on the backside a little too hard.

Croc snickered something in Red’s direction that sounded like the universal ‘I’ll get you for that later’. Big Red just shook his head, the motion making his long, thin ‘braids’ sway across the bare, ochre and black skin of his broad, muscular back. It struck you yet again how beautiful you found him, and you swallowed thickly as a choking mix of disappointment and anxiety boiled up your throat and threatened to smother you. You wanted to stay here in the woods with them just a few days longer, but it was simply impossible. You were almost out of food for one, and for another, their rescuers would arrive the following day.

As perceptive as ever, the two friends both paused as one and looked at you, quirking their heads in perfect synchrony to one side. It was so sweet you almost cried. “It’s nothing,” you croaked and turned back to your crate to continue making notes. “Thank you for the photos.” And for the best few days of my life.

Your emotions began to settle somewhat as the day wore on, and sometime in the late afternoon, Croc came over and startled the life out of you by tapping you on the arm with the back of his right hand. You looked up sheepishly from your work and smiled at him, and he cocked his head to the side. “You did not hear me? I called your name.”

“Sorry,” you said, closing the app and locking your phone. “I can get kind of lost in what I’m doing. Did you want something?”

“Come and join us again?” He looked over his shoulder and you discovered that they’d rekindled the little campfire, and Red was now sitting on a metal crate, cleaning a rifle that matched the blaster that Croc had serviced the previous day.

His focus seemed completely locked into the task and you smiled. “Looks like I’m not the only one who gets fixated on something,” you muttered and Croc grinned with his mouth flared wide again to reveal the pinkish, inner flesh of the stretching membrane between the mandibles. It looked so delicate, so at odds with the rest of his tough, solid body.

Staring at Big Red while he worked, you found another question crystallising on your tongue. “You said that you and Red are from different planets,” you began quietly. “Are you different species too? You’re just so different, that’s all,” you added to try and clarify a little.

“Yes,” he said. “We are different. Boss’ — Big Red’s — kind are very rare.”

“He said he comes from a desert environment…”

Croc inclined his head and crouched down beside you so that you didn’t have to crick your neck up to look at him from your crate. “Yes. Most of our kind who live on Secundus left the desert generations ago. Not many can survive those conditions now. The light is too strong for our eyes.”

“Is that why he wears a mask that covers them?”

“Yes,” he said, continuing in his faltering way as he struggled to articulate the human speech around his delicate mandibles. He was already much more fluent than he had been just a day or so ago though. “They hunt at night, so their heat-sensing abilities… are much more accurate than ours… but their ability to detect the rest of the spectrum… is poor. Boss is also shy about his face though,” he added with a snickering chitter of his mandibles.

“He is? Why? You’re not…” you said, indicating his spiny, mottled face looking up at you mere feet from your own.

“Desert species are tough and ugly,” Croc said matter-of-factly. “That’s why no one wants to breed with them, and why no one wants to see what’s under their masks,” he went on, and when your face showed open shock at his callous tone, he laughed. “I like him,” he said in the same way that someone might say ‘the face only a mother could love’, “But even the humans we’ve met before think he’s ugly. To be fair, they said the same… of me too,” he added, scowling as though their judgement was very poor indeed for that.

“You’ve met humans before?” you asked, gears spinning.

He nodded. “They did not speak your language, but I had learned theirs. We came to this part of the world afterwards to study the differences.”

“So you’re like a science mission?” Like Star Trek, you mused, but didn’t say it.

Croc clicked out the sequence of sounds that made up the name of their fallen squad-mate, and then continued, “— was what you’d call the scientist... He had only a little combat training. Always a very bad fighter… We were to protect him while he studied the humans in these parts.”

You got the impression that actually all three of them had been an odd bunch of misfits, like nerds in the school yard, and it endeared them to you even more. Croc clearly missed his fallen lover dearly, though he was keeping his grief private. “But there are no humans in these parts,” you croaked, chest aching for them and the loss of their friend.

At that, Croc scoffed loudly enough that Red paused in his work at last and looked up. You both glanced over at him but he soon dipped his attention back down to the blaster. “We didn’t mean to stop here,” he said with exasperation in his rough, rasping voice. “One of your missiles got a lucky shot… hit us over the ocean and… we came down here…”

You stayed quiet, still mentally scrambling in silence.

Red didn’t want to show you his face because the last human who had seen it had thought him hideous, and even his own kind found him unattractive. He was gorgeous though, in his rough-hewn, primal way, and he had been so tender and so kind to you ever since that single display of strength when he’d thought you a threat to his squad-mate. How could anyone find him unattractive?

Setting your phone down on the crate, you stood and reached for Croc’s shoulder while he was still crouched — the one that wasn’t still healing — and you squeezed his neck gently. “Thanks, Croc. I’m so sorry about your squad mate. Red told me you were all… close; that you grew up together.”

He chuffed something and nuzzled his cheek affectionately against your arm.

The moment passed and you strode determinedly over to Red, who was deliberately not looking in your direction. He was also very obviously done with the rifle, though he still fiddled and futzed about with it. “Mind if I join you?”

He shook his head and you plonked yourself down beside him on the spare box where Croc had been sitting, and looked across at the vambrace that covered Red’s left wrist. He tracked your gaze and then looked away again. After a while, when he showed no sign of starting up a conversation, you brought your fingertips to the cold metal and ran them along the border of the small, dark screen. It flared to life, showing the red, cuneiform markings of their language, and you paused.

“What else does this do?” you asked, thinking back to the recording it had played a few hours earlier.

He did look at you then and opened his mandibles a little in a gesture that you’d come to associate with a human’s eyebrow raise: softly amused surprise. “It… It interfaces with our helmets…” he said, and when you looked expectantly at him, he sighed and tapped it. “This is the control for some of our weapons guidance systems. This,” he said, tapping it a few more times with his black-clawed finger to make a different series of marks appear on the screen, “Changes the… the ‘projection’… that the mask shows me. It will play back footage, or show me different wavelengths in real time.”

You nodded slowly. “So when you showed me that scene of the enemy in the jungle… you chose wavelengths that I could make sense of?” Your tongue stalled at the memory of that creepy, black outline in the trees and the violent delight it had taken in stabbing one of Big Red’s kind to death in the forest of Prime. “That wasn’t how you saw it at the time?”

He inclined his head. “Exactly.”

“Could you show me how you see the world? With the mask, I mean?”

Big Red went very still, and for a moment you thought you’d pushed it too far, but then he said, “Close your eyes.”

You obeyed, and a few seconds later, the vaguely familiar feel of the mask pressed against your face. It obviously didn't fit you the way it did him, but your skin still tingled, and even though your eyes remained shut, an image showed before you and you gasped.

It was Red, but not as you recognised him.

The thermal imaging rendered the outlines and details of his body blurred, like a painting in mostly primary colours, and after holding up your own arm for reference — appearing in bright orange and yellows — you looked across to study him properly. His ‘dreads’ were a cool blue, and his indistinct face was a mix of greens, yellows, and blues, with deep eye sockets and a much narrower skull than Croc. The white points of his eyes in the blue of the sockets were the warmest part of him.

You looked in open fascination until he raised his arm and held out his hand, clearly demanding it back, and you let him draw the mask off you, all with your eyes still closed. After all, he’d allowed you the same courtesy when you’d felt vulnerable and naked in the waterfall. Was this really so different?

He purred something when he clearly discovered that you were still not looking directly at him, and he surprised you by trailing his knuckles sweetly along your jawline from the hinge near your ear down to your chin. “You can look,” he rasped.

Opening your eyes slowly, you discovered that he had not replaced the mask.

Your jaw slackened and your breath caught at your first proper sight of him.

Calling him ‘Red’ was even more fitting than you’d first thought now that you could actually see his face. He had a thick, softly-blurred, crimson stripe down the centre of his large, brown and ochre head, and a series of horizontal, ripple-like patterns led down like the rungs of a ladder between his deep-set eyes to the pits above his mouth that looked like nostrils. His lips were non-existent — any flesh there was pulled back by the way his mandibles sat neatly on either side of his narrow jaws to expose his bony, pink gums. Four chunky, jagged teeth that looked perfect for ripping out throats whole lined the front of his upper and lower jaws.

His eyes, rimmed with delicate, black skin that was vaguely reminiscent of smudged eyeliner, were small, tapered, and almond-shaped, but they sat angled in his skull so that they were almost vertical where a human’s were horizontal, and his irises were a gorgeous, magma orange with a small, black pupil and the hint of black sclera around the edges. He stared at you, unblinking, while you drank in the sight of him with your lips softly parted. Occasionally, his mandibles twitched, reminding you of a human nervously chewing on their lips.

“Red,” you breathed. “You’re… stunning.”

His chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow pants, and his wheezy way of breathing felt tighter and more apprehensive. He kept his body tense and still, as though expecting a blow he didn't intend to fend off.

“Croc —” you cleared the lump out of your throat and started again. “Croc said it’s an honour to see one of you without a mask,” you said carefully.

Big Red still didn’t move.

“Thank you, Red.”

Finally, he gave a huge, rolling sigh. The tension drained from him, and he shook his head slightly as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just done. Slowly, he replaced the mask over his face. “Now you know,” he said.

You frowned.

He sounded dejected.

He sounded like he regretted showing you his face.

You reached quickly for his left forearm and squeezed the solid muscle. For the first time, you noticed that he had a black dew claw on his thick wrist, almost hidden by a little nick that had been styled out of the vambrace to accommodate it. Your thumb caressed the nail bed around the base of it and he shivered slightly. “Thank you, Red,” you said again as you released your hold on his arm. “Thank you for trusting me.”

With yet another sigh, he shook his head again and twittered his mandibles into a disbelieving little laugh. “You are strange… human,” he snorted, standing up abruptly.

“You’re not the first to say so,” you mumbled.

Sensing he needed space again, you fought down a tide of disappointment that he was leaving immediately, and stayed put beside the fire.

When you looked around, you discovered that Croc was watching you in perfect stillness on the other side of the clearing, his expression tense and unreadable.

Hope that wasn’t too boring and lore-heavy. Things move on a bit more with the next one, I promise. Thanks for sticking with it, and your comments/asks/reblogs/tags are giving me life at the moment, you have no idea.

Next chapter -->

If you happen to have a couple of bucks spare, you could always drop a tip on my Ko-fi, but reblogs are just as welcome and just as helpful! I look forward to your reactions to this, and I hope you’re just as keen for part six!

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mrs-monaghan · 5 months

Note

I was looking through tkk blogs to see what they were saying about Jimin’s death threats and their role in it—unsurprisingly nothing, and I saw you in the replies and just wanted to say, they don’t have receipts because they don’t exist. Their entire ship is built on slow-mo edits and conspiracy theories.

I do wish some jkkrs would realize they’re starting to think and move like the cult. That blog seemed more rational and reasonable than I’ve seen a tkkr be before, and harassing them isn’t doing anyone any favors. No jkkr is ever going to convince a tkkr of anything in the same way that a tkkr can’t convert a jkkr. That blog at least thinks jk and jm are friends… and wow the bar is on the floor isn’t it? I am surprised that blog is so popular though because they don’t seem to say much of anything. They agree when tkkrs send them asks and then give vague non answers with no receipts for any other ask, but I guess they’re used to that sort of thing. The one time I saw them trying to show receipts it was from an account named KookV FANTASY FICTION 😂

I did not harrass them. I do not harass people. I just made a statement. Like u said, this person seemed pretty level headed so yeah, I replied. You don't come across a sane tkkr everyday so that's why I was confused by their post. Because all I have to do is swap Taekook for Jikook and I can find all the moments they described.... with receipts! 😅

There is something you said thou that stands out to me.

No jkkr is ever going to convince a tkkr of anything in the same way that a tkkr can't convert a jkkr.

Anon, I disagree. If a tkkr showed me legit questionable moments I would listen. If we didn't have HD photos of the Taennie Paris drama I would listen. But as it stands everything they say makes tkk real can be found with V and the wooga squad, can be found with V and other members, with JK and other members. There is not one single "sus" tkk thing that applies to only them.

So yeah, a tkkr would never make me stop believing in Jikook... but Jikook would make me stop believing in Jikook. What happened with V is NEVER going to happen with Jikook. There is not leaked photos or videos (legit ones) that exist of Jimin and JK with other men or women. I personally don't think they have ever broken up so I believe this to be fact. From 2013 when we met them till now November 2023, there is nothing of substance out there that suggests Jimin or JK are or have ever been with other people.

Idk about the future but now, in this moment, I can confidently say this.

But,

If in future they broke up and stopped... well Jikooking, I guarantee you Jikookers would stop "shipping" them. Me included. We don't support Jikook to be stubborn. We believe in them because they remind us of our own rlships or rlships of people we know about.

I discovered BTS and then gravitated towards the two members who screamed "we suck each other's dicks!" to me. This is the story of 90% of Jokers. If it was RM and Jin who acted the way Jikook do, this would be a Namjin blog. If it was Jhope and V doing and saying the things Jikook do, this would be a Vhope blog. Because I am an Army and I watched alot of content with all 7 and Jikook just happened to be the sus ones.

Heck, if Tkk were any bit suspicious to me, i would be a tkkr too!

But alas! That's not the case.

Anon I disagree because majority of Jikookers have reason. We are smart, we did the math. When we get debunked we accept. When we get corrected by the Koreans, we accept. We admit when we are wrong and the survival of our ship doesn't depend on getting rid of V. Most importantly we don't make up anything just so our ship can keep sailing.

GCF Saipan who???

We are here because among all 7 members it was Jikook who looked like they had something going on. You will find Suga biased Jkkrs, Jhope biased Jkkrs, Jin biased Jkkrs, etc. If I thought tkk were real, I would support them despite Jimin being my bias. THAT, anon is the difference between us and them. Not what you think.

Oh. This is the post anon and I are talking about. Please no hate to the blog. He/she seems like good people.

Like @magicshop-pjm1 likes to say; thanks for attending my TED talk

#ask shaz #bts ask #Taekook is not real #jikook is real #jikook #kookmin #minkook #jimin and jungkook

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taco-pal · 8 months

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AHSOKA REVIEW: I'm sorry but Dave Filoni has got to go lol. Ahsoka show is so mediocre in execution. His dialogue and style of directing just do not translate to live action well at all. The dialogue is so stilted and full of pauses, enough that it feels like actors are in entirely different spaces when reciting lines. All of it feels so expository and flat. Characters do not act like real people, they act as plot and lore delivery machines.

Rosario Dawson and Mary Elizabeth Winstead are not a bad actors. And yet here...Ahsoka is played so stoic, so emotionless, that it has to come down to the directing and writing telling her to do so. None of the charisma Ashley Eckstein and the animators of TCW and Rebels is here whatsoever. Winstead's Hera Syndulla is also played very flat. Can we also talk about how the blue eye contacts for both make the characters look absolutely lifeless and cheap? You can also just tell Natasha Liu Bordizzo is being instructed to act a certain way and wants to do more with the character but cant. It's so frustrating!

There is some stuff to like here: the stuff going on with Skoll and Hati at least seems mildly interesting, but it's also doing the Dave Filoni thing of changing the entire lore structure of a pretty well known universe by introducing more and more fantasy elements and glup shittos from the EU. It is just not dramatically interesting, sorry. Marrok at least looks cool as fuck by emulating Rinzler from Tron lol.

And this just brings us to the problem with modern Star Wars; It is all becoming so interconnected to the animated tv shows that they assume you'll have seen them already and understand who so and so blorbo's and glup shittos are and why they're here. But new SW creators are also in the trap of having an entire generation of younger fans created because of those shows now watching and wanting to feel validated. How do creators please both camps? How do you make people suspend disbelief enough to think that Thrawn really was part of the Empire that Lucas established in the OT? It just feels like Lucasfilm and Filoni steered the ship into the trap of fan service and ridiculous lore by mistakenly believing it could make up for the flaws of the prequels and any inconsistencies they might have later on and it is just sinking the entire ship.

Casual fans just do not care about this stuff and it's causing the entire SW machine to fail. It is also what made The Mandalorian drop hard in quality and also Book of Boba Fett.

The animated shows have never had any REAL parity with the main saga and it is a huge mistake to make it the backbone and catalyst of all the new content. I'm sorry, but most people don't want to watch 100+ hours of an animated show to understand what's going on in the series their grandma also wants to watch and easily understand. Only Disney Adult 30+ year olds and younger millennials that grew up on The Clone Wars could possibly find this pleasing.

(The way I had to hold off on talking about Andor's brilliance in comparison here...consider yourself lucky. ANDOR STANS RISE UP!!!!!)

#Star Wars #Star Wars Ahsoka #Ahsoka Tano #the Book of Boba Fett #The Mandalorian #Rosario Dawson #SW #The Clone Wars #Star Wars Rebels #mary elizabeth winstead #Hera Syndulla #Dave Filoni #Andor #Cassian Andor

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elephant-in-the-pride-parade · 2 months

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That Troll Accusing P/T fics and Trek Fic Writers Blogs (Including me) of Racism could be a Right-Wing Bot.

Edit (4/16): I would like to emphasize that i really hope this theory is not true. It stemmed from having had multiple friends and acquaintances in the voyager fandom (white and not) be suicide baited and otherwise harassed with vague accusations of racism over the past year, (for P/T primarily, but other ships and characters on occasion too) yah we did cycle through a lot of explanations. Ultimately our anon(s) being someone with either a malicious motive or an extremely ill thought out and unproductive approach, were the explanations that wound up making the most sense. the content of the anon asks and comments i am refering too has been both vague and painful, and further, never came from a real ao3 or tumblr account. these also came with no evidence based points for the fic writers to work on.

I do not believe this theory below to be anywhere near the most plausible. but it is the only conclusion we could make sense of for a slew of similar anon messages that, at the end of the day, did a lot of hurt without making any concrete points that writers could take action on. By making this analysis, my hope is not to convince you all that a right wing troll is out to get voyager fic writers. Instead, i hope it comforts writers who have gotten similar attacks and helps them to dismiss messages that come with harassment and suicide baiting, rather than evidence based points. And i hope if there are real people behind those anons that seeing this analysis helps them to reconsider the effect their approach is having.

Original Post from 3/2

At first I thought I was paranoid post-2016 and 2020, but now I've been hit a couple times and seen comments on more of the affected fics. And I'm seeing concerning themes.

I make a couple of assumptions here: 1. My anon (whom I will refer to throughout as "The Anon") is the same each time. 2. The Anon is the same actor or belongs to the same group as The Anon troll commenting on P/T and some J/C fics.

The Anon as a Bot Evidence:

1. The Anon accusations are sweeping, but generic. They do not use in-fic textual evidence to justify their comments. You write P/T: You're a Tom apologist. You think Belanna is his exotic wife. You justify your blatant anti-latina racism by casting her anger as an inherent a Klingon trait. You write J/C: You think Chakotay is a noble savage and fetishize him. You write Harry Kim: You're infantilizing him.

These tropes and stereotypes are legitimate concerns that fic writers should care about and should be mindful of. These accusations on the other hand are not legitimate. They are left as guest comments or anonymous asks on fics heedless of the fic content or writer's background or track record. The AO3 comments do not reference fic content. They are repeated across all impacted writers. They target new and veteran writers alike. They target fics regardless of rating.

2. Comments that appear to reference fic specifics go no farther fic tags.

This was harder to catch. But a P/T fic tipped me off last month. It was tagged "Tom & Belanna & Miral". The Anon's first comment on that fic dove in accusing the fic of incest. This showed both that the anon had not read the fic content - they also didn't understand the difference between a / tag and an & tag. (Which also means the programmer of the tag-reading bot or human actor creating tag-based comments is not literate in how fandom ship tags are structured - they may not be a fan at all!)

3. The Anon never replies. Not on AO3 or on Tumblr. (All AO3 comments from "The Anon" seem to stick to the automatically assigned Anon name or use a generic, short first name like "Sam").

Exceptions to this - the rare ocasions where someone sympathetic to the anon replies break from the distinctive patterns of The Anon. Replies come from either burner accounts or guests with more unique names. And these replies are both A - fewer and far between - suggesting they are a different actor - and B - by and large quite serious and thoughtful. I take them to be real people, legitimate fans concerned about racism, caught up in the crossfire.

4. The Anon uses language intended to engender right-wing sympathies and white-moderate anger.

The Anon sent this in their message to me the other day. I will bold the relevant passages.

"You’re the perfect example of the kind of white person who ruins fandom for everyone else, a nasty racist bitch who cares more about their shitty fanfiction than the feelings of actual people of color. Keep using your precious freedom of speech to fetishize brown men I guess

"The kind of white person": This anon has no proof of my race and proof doesn't matter to them. (They have targeted writers of color and white writers alike) They are indiscriminant because they are hoping some of their targets are white women. They are also attempting to out-group white women from the rest of fandom - trying to engender in me feelings of being alienated from my community.

"Nasty racist bitch" "Nasty woman" incidentally is what Trump famously called Hilary Clinton during a 2016 debate. Calling me a racist is there to put me on the defensive (and to alienate me from my coalition) Im meant to feel shocked and disheartened by this accusation. And in a way, keeping this generic serves a purpose. A lack of specificity makes it harder for me to defend myself. "Bitch" is there to trigger my fear/anger response. It is also assuming my gender - again. The anon doesnt care if they accidentally sent this hate to a man or nonbinary person or a person of color. they are betting that at least a plurality of targets will be their key white woman demographic.

"people of color" - while it is correct terminology - is also terminology of the US left/democratic wing. By using this term the Anon is in-grouping themselves with the left - trying again to make me feel like an outsider.

Finally, the kicker is the Freedom of Speech part of this ask.

The Anon is using the concept of free speech here in the same way that the MAGA crowd does, to mean that I ought to be able to say whatever I want regardless of how it hurts others, rather than the legal term's actual definition - the right to critique one's government without being jailed or killed.

By accusing me of caring about Freedom of Speech this way they're not trying to make me feel guilt - theyre trying to hurt me, make me angry, and guide me to sympathize with Republicans. They are using the term this way to push me to think of my fanfic in terms of free speech and thus to agree with Republican freedom of speech talking points. Or if I reject the accusation - to feel torn between Left and Right.

The Anon is trying to sow discord. Theyre employing the same tactics that broke the Womens March movement in 2021, and that pervaded so many Facebook groups and twitter in the last two US election cycles. They are using tactics honed to cleave apart progressives and moderates.

My only question after all those realizations was: why the fuck are they doing this to such a niche group as star trek fanfiction writers.

And then it hit me.

The Anon's Motive: Trek Fic Writers are a Target Election Demographic.

By and large, US fan writers of ships from 90s star trek are women, often millenial and gen x women, many likely to be suburban. And yes - more likely to be white. In short we are part of the same demographic Trump lost in 2020 and needs to either win back this year, or try keep from going to the polls.

You can tell me I sound ridiculous - I think this whole stinking situation is ridiculous. I'm not unaware of how fringe a theory this is. I've been taught to always assume incompetence before malice. And for a while I considered that maybe The Anon was genuine. Maybe they had good intentions and poor execution. I'm sure I could write characters of color better (I am not afraid to admit that I'm still learning. Being wrong isnt something to be afraid of). I wanted this to be the case actually, but I have too much evidence and motive in favor of malicious bot tactics to ignore.

I have tried so hard to think of a reason I'm wrong. Except that all the pieces make sense. No fic / writer specific grievances have been aired by The Anon. They hit the same points every time, again, without textual evidence. They never reply. They chose words that wound and inflame but that never say anything specific about the fic or writer.

And wouldn't it be damn convenient for the Trump camp if a bunch of progressive and moderate US star trek fans decided not to vote because they were disheartened by being accused of racism and felt alienated from the democratic coalition.

This is a niche community. But we likely arent the only targets. And as a friend reminded me tonight, it doesnt take much to move the needle.

#paris/torres #star trek fandom #the troll anon #racism #if you do happen to be the anon the easiest way to prove im wrong is to make a burner account and come talk to me #tell me what parts of my fics you found problematic im really not afraid to hear it

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atheliasnotebook · 2 years

Text

"you're so tight, i can't take it."

pairing: thoma x gn!reader

tags: NSFW

warnings: [!] not proofread [!]

author’s note: kinktober day 1 - list can be found here

but all in all, i know i’m behind—just bear with me a bit :D

NSFW tags: anal penetration

thoma: "i'm sorry, it just feels so good—"

it seems like the kamisatos are out on official business. well, you know what that means.

thoma was just simply sweeping the house, dusting everywhere in each tiny little crevice—lifting up ornaments tasseled trinkets to squander any dust bunnies, and be content with how sparkling clean the yashiro commission looked after his handiwork.

and that's when you showed up, dressed in a pleasant-looking short coat and shirt in your adventurer's boots. he smiles, setting his dusting tool aside on a side table before taking you up into his arms in a hug tighter than most would be willing to give.

"why hello there, (y/n)! you're all dressed in your adventuring gear, where will you be heading to today?"

you’re heading out somewhere sent by the guild to track some smuggler’s tracks. thoma smiles, approaching you as though you’re going to answer his question with a resounding “yes.”

“i’ve finished cleaning, would you like me to come with—“

you reassure him that you’ll be okay on your own. and thoma crosses his arms, sighing with that same smile on his face.

“do i have to bring up the last time you went to that place?”

you just shake your head, not wanting to recall. you were a little confident in your abilities, because the report said there were two people seen stealing some precious trinkets and shipping them over to sumeru. then, when heading over to the coast off inazuma city, plot twist—it’s one, and upon approaching them, six more appeared. you were very lucky that general gorou was actually heading to the city, and found rescued you from your predicament. a treasure hunter, mixed in with a couple of fatui agents and maidens isn’t exactly the easiest sort of job—especially with the kind of equipment you had on you.

“so either i come along with you this time, or you make sure you’re better prepared…” the man mutters, almost looking saddened. “i really don’t want to have to bandage you looking like… that, of course.”

now that really did it. you asked if there were any spare equipment that you could borrow inside the house.

“well, come inside then,” he remarks, leading the way, offering his hand to you as he walks you up the steps. and you take it, because why not?

but the moment that the both are of you are out of sight from the other guards, he closes the door, grinning as he takes you by the wrist and pins you to the floor—cushioning your fall with his hands.

his breath dances with your frenzied puffs as your faces are barely centimeters away, pulling closer as he gently presses his lips against yours—absorbing the passion of your legs squeezing around his thigh. his pace quickens as he hoists your waist up, kissing you deeper with one hand on your cheek whilst the other is lifting you up. his stifled moans quickly escape his lips as he tears away from you—where he flips you over and slides his hands beneath your underwear while pulling the back of shorts down.

not even paying attention—you feel the warmth and size of his tip press in between your sex and your ass, before feeling how your natural liquids perfectly lubricate the length of his cock sliding between your thighs. you shudder, taking in the sudden forwardness of thoma.

“i’m sorry—i-i just… missed you so much, (y/n)…” the week’s been long without you—“ he whispers frantically behind your ear, keeping you pinned down. you turn your head, looking up at thoma—whose cheeks and ears are extremely flushed.

reassuring that it’s okay, you simply collapse under thoma’s weight, shuddering at how his breath tickles the edges of your neck. he presses himself gently inside, and you feel way too overwhelmed with sensitivity to even pay attention to him prodding into a hole that you never allow him to touch unless it’s every so often.

“w-wait—“ you mutter frantically.

“please? it’s been at least a month since we’ve done anything together—i promise i’ll be gentle…”

you can’t say no. how could you say no to those sad puppy-dog eyes and that cute face nuzzling into your neck. you complacently agree, bolstering the upper half of your body up while thoma grasps your love handles, putting you down even more while gently pulsing around your hole.

and he pushes it in further—muttering gently…

“god, you’re so tight, i can’t take it…”

and listening to your exasperate whimpers of pain gets him a little going. he watches your face twist and confound at the foreign feeling that fills your back cavity. he moans under his breath, and you whimper from the pain—and how much it practically rips your body apart. you cry, and he whispers—

“i’m sorry, it just feels so good…”

but despite how it burns and feels like it’s going to make your hole explode… god, it hurts so bad that it feels so good. you hiccup from the years, and thoma gently shushes you, proceeding to pound into you softly, whispering the sweetest little comments in your ears

“i love you so much…”

“don’t worry about making a mess honey—i’ll find a way to clean it afterwards…~”

and when he gets closer to his climax, he finally asks:

“can… huff… can i fill this hole, please?”

and when you give him the okay, his motions rapidly quickening as the both of you chase each other’s orgasms, you press your ass more into his crotch while he slams into your ass once more—splurging all his hot and lewd liquids to load into you.

he thanks you repeatedly, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers his constant gratitude.

#thoma x y/n #thoma x you #thoma genshin #thoma smut #thoma x reader #genshin impact thoma #genshin thoma #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin kinktober #athi.kinktober22 #kinktober #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin fics #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines

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sulevinen · 1 year

Note

hey, i haven’t seen the bad batch, is there any specific reason you list it as not tolerated in you pinned post? maybe the reason is obvious but i’m not very plugged online star wars fandom lol

idk how to end this ask so uhh. i hope you have a nice day :)

hello anon!! i have many reasons why i don’t tolerate any bad batch content here and why i hate it a lot.

the first reason is the blatantly obvious racism regarding the batch. they’re not only whitewashed, they’re presented as a ”superior group” better than their more brown counterparts whom the batch also alienates and views as lesser than (calling them ”regs” derogatorily on more than one occasion).

second reason is that i hate the batch’s origins: they call themselves the bad batch while in reality they have DESIRED mutations and they’re treated better by EVERYONE, they get better gear, better ships, they get to choose their missions and they report to no-one. and their mutations? any other clone, if given the same gear and training, could accomplish what they have.

the batch has this victim mentality that everyone is out to get them and despises them, while at the same time they possess a superiority complex, pretending that they are so much better than everyone else. the batch whines about being ”misunderstood” or whatever, while their lives are so much better in every way than the regular clones’, who aren’t even treated as human most of the time.

and third reason, they’re just really, really, REALLY unlikable. not a single good trait in any of them, not a single enjoyable moment. they’re all obnoxious, their personalities are so bland, they all have one defining trait that dominates their whole character (tech is supposedly a genius, wrecker is a strong dummy, hunter has no personality other than being the leader, and crosshair is just an asshole) and they just. they do nothing.

the fourth reason is the way they treat echo. the team behind the show are treating echo poorly, and i’m not letting that slide. they ignore echo’s ptsd, they ignore his disability, they treat him as a machine and make him inhumane, and his role and personality are non-existent in the first season. the batch treats echo better than the other clones because he’s ”like them” despite him still being a regular clone with cybernetics, and in the gregor episode they’re willing to let gregor die because he’s just a reg, while ECHO IS RIGHT THERE.

and the fifth reason is just the show itself, filled with racism, anti-semitism, ableism, etc. cid is a money-hungry lizard voiced by a jewish woman, echo is treated as a machine, then there was this execution squad where the non-white soldiers execute innocent civilians and the only white soldier refuses to do so. and many more instances like this that just scream racism.

it’s just so fucking poorly made. it’s horribe in every way, from the characters to the plot. it’s like a white man’s power fantasy which checks out since the target audience seems to be the white fans who can see themselves in the batch, even though the batch and the other clones are supposed to look like temuera morrison who is a brown Māori man.

here is the carrd made by clonehub, where each problem has been broken down perfectly and explains it better than i ever could:

#jesus this got long i’m so sorry #i tried to keep it short but ended up rambling #hope y’all have shorten long posts function on #i may have gotten some things wrong i just wrote this from what i can remember happening in season one #star wars #the bad batch #tbb #unwhitewashtbb #inbox

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tremendouscreationperson · 1 year

Text

Din Djarin x Reader

This is from an idea I've been cultivating, it's very angsty because I just watched GOTG vol 3.

Essentially it's a TLOU au, where you're Ellie and he hands you over to save people

In an instant the explosion cast a blinding light. The Mandalorian was thrown to his left as if the Beskar was tin, as if he was a toy being discarded. Sometimes he felt like one, just a plaything in the Maker's game. He grunted landing upon the floor, barely able to move with the pain spasming through his body. It was like tiny ecto eels were slithering and making a home under his skin, electrocuting him with every hitched breath and any twitching muscle.

He had to get to you.

That was the plan. The only plan that mattered. The only thing that mattered.

The only reason he was crumbled underneath debris debating parting with you in the first place.

"The whole reason I'm here, the whole reason we met - I have to do this." You spoke, rolling your eyes, "They need my blood, it's nothing. Say they want a gallon, surely that's not going to kill me."

Din halted his movements, hand resting upon his hip. "You know that wasn't what I meant." He waited for you to follow suit and you did, turning to face him just as the sun emerged from behind a cloud, your dress and hair swishing in an elegant display. It was a miracle he stuttered out, "I just want you to be sure."

You lifted your lips, delicately biting your cheek. "Thank you. But they did genetically engineer me for this and they did lose me so it feels right to atleast give them blood."

He'd told you he'd be here. He vowed to be in the room he let you go in. You'd left easily enough, thanking and giving him the first hug you two had shared. It could be the last. The growl that ruptured his throat and the brash way he threw his body to crawl out of the wreckage were not human, they weren't even animalistic but some other almost godlike - righteous even - in their anger.

The way the doctor scoffed at him when he relayed that you wouldn't be making it out, and that he had mentioned at the beginning you were nothing more than a conscious slab of meat, you were a scientific experiment that they weren't able to replicate - samples would be taken as well as your brain and heart - he should have just taken the credits and left you in their custody. The way the doctor acted as though Din's anger was stupid. As though the Mandalorian had not spent months of his life helping and learning from and laughing with and worrying about you. He had picked you up as instructed and he was amazed that you weren't in fact a slab of meat, you were dazzling. The way your eyes lit up at the stars when he first showed you hyperspace - I've never seen anything more beautiful - or the way you eagerly waited to be useful when he tinkered with the Crest; even the way you stayed grateful when he offered you the lesser shitty ration pack.

Yes, of course he had taken the long way to deliver you. Of course, he was glad the Crest was old and needed more fuel and maintenance trips than a newer ship. And of course he had fallen for you. There wasn't a timeline nor an alternate reality where he could see himself not falling for you.

It was true he was tired of being alone but that's all he'd really known and he was content with that, but the second you met he knew. You were debating going with him, unafraid to let him know and even asked his opinion - I don't usually get asked by a bounty if they think it's a good idea if they come with me. - Your response was simple but strong 'but I am asking'. It's simple, your blood saves people, it's a good thing. Of course he hadn't known the experimentation and pain you'd been through, even out of the Empire's hands and with the Rebels. Each side treated you badly in their own way.

His body had started to numb, his head was ringing and eyes were blurry. There were a great many things his anger could do but get out of this situation seemed impossible. There were too many Troopers, too much dust infiltrating his air filter, too much fire illumining his armour. He had taken down a third of the west wing when they bombed the place, you were, hopefully safe, in the east wing. Maybe the explosion would stop the surgery. Maybe you were.

With a sigh he allowed his helmet to thump on the floor. Blood was filling his lungs now. He'd always wanted this, a warrior's death, but now it felt pointless and unfinished. His eyelids were too heavy, his throat too full of smoke too yell, even his trigger finger abandoned the blaster. It was time. He would close his eyes and pray you were alright.

"Why are you lying down?" He could've sworn it was - but it couldn't be. Surely, it couldn't be? Din tried to open his eyes but they were too heavy, ton weights on his broken body. "I didn't think this would be the behaviour of a mighty Mandalorian." It was. That was your voice. You had started gently but ended up chuckling.

He tried to speak your name but an indistinguishable croak tumbled out. You let out a soft oh and he could feel your hand on his bicep. He knew you were with him, you were sitting next to him, right there for kriffs sake! With all the strength left in his body, he gasped, sitting up and opening his eyes.

Your eyes were the first thing he noticed, they always were, so expressive and open. Then, as if it was an afterthought, the absence of pain and the setting. You were nowhere - and sort of in the Crest? If it was the Crest it was white, illuminescent and soft, free of sharp edges.

He also felt soft, he chanced a glance and yes - he was armourless. That's why your eyes were brighter, that's why all the light was blinding.

"Wh-where's my Beskar?" His voice was free of soot and a modulator.

You made a puzzled look, your brows and lips pulling, "you're wearing it."

"No. I'm not." It sounded like a question.

"For me you are." You lifted a hand to his cheek but just before it landed your hand moulded around something that wasn't there. His shoulders slumped and embarrassment flooded through him for leaning into the embrace. "It's still cold, even here."

That was an odd thing to say. "Where are we?"

"I don't know." The truth and fear in you scared him. "Either your head or mine I assume." There was a dark chuckle.

"I don't understand." He spoke plainly.

"I don't think we're meant to." You took your hand back and rose, the floor length dress swayed with you, ruffles dusting the clean floor. It was almost a replica of the first dress he'd seen you in. The Rebels called you a Priestess and paraded you about sick countries promoting their cause but exposing you to the horrors of the galaxy without letting you truly enjoy it. Your hair had fallen loose like it often did, he loved your hair, it was so soft looking and it smelled devine. It - you - you! He had to save you!

"I'm saving you." He promised, standing. It was different to be exposed like this in front of you, he felt lesser. Like he wasn't worthy.

"I know." You replied, taking a step back when he took one forward.

"We'll, go to the Crest. We'll go home."

"I know what they're doing." He stopped moving. "I knew what they would do to me." You clarified, folding your hands in front of you. "What they are doing."

His eyes were watering. "I won't let them." He couldn't remember the last time they watered, maybe it was after a beating when he was a cocky youngling, maybe it was before when his parents died.

You didn't have the strength to look at him when you spoke, instead looking off to the right and barely mumbling. "I think it's too late."

"Where are we?" He repeated, angry now.

"Either in your head or mine or the Maker is cruel and we're elsewhere. But I think you're in my head, I think you're the last of my neurons trying to do their job, trying to show me.. something, anything." There was a melancholy reverence in the way you spoke but he didn't take notice. He was livid. How dare you be so calm. "Or we're in yours," you shrugged one shoulder, sneaking a glossy glance. "Maybe you did save me, maybe your life is flashing before your eyes but it's too late and you stopped halfway through. Maybe I'm a dream. Hit your head too hard and things will happen."

"We are not-"

"What do you think happens?" You interrupted, you didn't want to fight, you were too tired for that. "I think I'd like to come back, I don't know what as though."

"We are not dead." He spoke through clenched teeth, each word punctuated with a stride forward. "I will not allow it."

This time you didn't move, allowing him to stop mere inches from you. "Everything dies."

"I can't let it."

Your brows pulled and you had opened your mouth to argue back when he cupped both your cheeks in his hands and said, barely audible, "not you."

"Mand-"

"Din." His thumbs rubbed the apples of your cheeks. "If we are in your head you wouldn't know that's my name."

"That's cheating, Din." A tear oozed from your eye as you spoke his name. The way you said it broke his heart, you were so upset, barely keeping it together now.

"We're not dead." He shrugged one shoulder. "I will it, I vow it."

"Din I -"

"DIN!"

"MANDO?!"

"DIN WAKE UP!"

The Mandalorian awoke with an excruciating headache. He grunted and forced his eyes open prematurely, the visor doing almost nothing to shield them. He believed he was looking at a ceiling but it was swirling and the light source was dancing in a figure eight.

He cried out your name.

Nothing happened except from his teeth crashing together roughly.

Next he tried to pull his shoulders upwards, that was a disaster. He flopped back down, pulling at his sore ribs.

He cried for you again.

Then the light was obscured and hands were on his arm. Another set of hands pulled him upwards.

"Weaha - remove - itaficks- you." Words jumbled together, masculine, and then his helm was removed. It was surprisingly comforting, he could breathe.

There was a moment before his senses came back. Boba and Bo-Katan's own visors stared at him. They showed no emotion as always but he knew there was relief.

"You cut it a bit short on calling for help." Boba spoke, settling Din back onto the floor.

He could see more clearly now. He was still in the hospital. The room they were inhabiting had a large crack in the ceiling shooting down to the right wall. The floor was covered in a sheet of dust where the building shook from the explosion. Med equipment was scattered about and a whole bed was upturned. There were even a few bodies in the corner. His eyes scanned the room until they found what they truly seeked.

You were laying on the floor as well, having clearly been prepared for surgery, your hair shaved and head covered in marker, he could also spy some on your chest in the shape of a Y, your skin was pale and your head was turned towards his, eyes closed.

He croaked out your name.

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