#I wasn’t able to access some memories for a while

[nerdieforpedro]

He told me his name

The Mandalorian/ Din Djarin x plus size female reader

My entire blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: approx. 1.3k

Summary: It's not clear if you enter The Mandalorian's orbit or you enter his, but slowly the two of you are growing closer.

Warnings: vague mentions of mechanic work, HANDS (It's my thing about Din okay?!), fluff, some violence, blood, injuries and first aid

Notes: I've wanted to write another Din fic for a while and didn't have any sparks. Then I read @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin 's Din fic (Sorgan girls Are Easy) she put out yesterday which is excellent. I had my spark. ⚡️ Though the fic I wrote isn't similar to hers at all. Not even in the same category. 🤣 My fic is very moody. I might write a follow-up one shot to this.

Dividers are by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Din Djarin Masterlist /Our Journey Across the Star Ocean

Lingering near your workstation had you curious, but you chalked it up to just being curious about how you worked. You’re aware that your organization, separation and tinkering can be slower than other mechanics but it also means you don’t need to double check your work as often.

The Mandalorian was intimidating and never rude or even commanding. In fact he was polite and let Peli speak to him pretty casually. You only said hello and goodbye.

That’s why it struck you with surprise when Peli asked during one evening card game with the droids if you’d consider riding with the “walking tin can” as she put it. You blinked and asked why you, shouldn’t he be asking her to come with him. She told you that she had a business to run and she’s not gallivanting around with a trigger happy bounty hunter who has to keep track of an adorable but absurdly strong baby. 

“You need some excitement anyway. You’ll just waste away here without any good memories or fun stories to tell. It will just be a life of regrets of paths not taken.”

Her words rang in your head as the small green child sat in your lap. The Mandalorian was at the controls, silently charting their course. Was this a good decision?

He allowed you to come with him when he got his tracking fobs and when he turned in his bounties. The first touch was between your shoulder blade to your back, guiding you and the child through the market back to the Razor Crest.

The second was when his gloved hands touched yours while trying to improve your aim using a blaster. His voice was more gentle than his normal flat one. Closer to what he used with Grogu but still not as much warmth. It was enough to have you believe him to be kind.

The third happened after he brought a bounty back to the ship and he saw Grogu patting your cheeks as you spoke to him. Explaining about what different bolts did, it looked like you were organizing your tools again. His gloved hand was placed on your shoulder which had you peer up at his t-visor. He gave you a nod and went to inventory his weapons. Maybe it wasn’t just kindness. Maybe he believes you to be useful, a smile creeps along your face.

Such small gestures continued until you took Grogu out for a walk. 

It was a fairly green planet and Din said it was safe, you didn’t wander far from the ship as it was still in view. The first crawling plant you saw and shot it through and through with your blaster. The second, nipped your leg but you were able to knock it off and shot it twice. On the way back to the ship you were clear, but one jumped the gangway and a tentacle sliced across your back before you were able to turn and shoot it. You limped back into the Razor Crest and were able to clean and dress your leg but not your back. Grogu wouldn’t stop screaming and you kept moving him away from you to not get blood on the poor child.

The bounty hunter saw you, quickly put his bounty on carbonate and grabbed the bacta spray. He spoke to his son and was able to calm him slightly as he ripped your shirt and bra to try and access the wound on your back but the blood and secretions in your wound from the tentacle made it increasingly difficult as you bled. 

“I apologize for this. I’ll need to cut off the rest of the back of your shirt to clean and apply the spray and…” He paused. The Mandalorian you know never paused, he was always measured in his speech, even with Grogu. “It may be easier for me to do if I remove my gloves. They’ve become too slick with your blood. Is that alright?” You found it puzzling that he was asking permission considering it’s one of the main tenets of his religion. You didn’t care either way as long as the bleeding and pain stopped. 

“It’s fine Mando. Do what you need to do. Grogu’s okay right? I didn’t get any blood on him, I think.”

You closed your eyes and heard the Mandalorian give a few curses as he removed his gloves, warm calloused fingers were dabbing your back and applying pressure. After holding it a few minutes, you felt the cool spray of the bacta and some patches being applied with more pressure. There seemed to be less pain and your back didn’t feel like a dripping pool so you counted your lucky stars and thanked the Maker that the bounty hunter had come back earlier than later. You felt something soft spread over your body and you were lifted off the floor of the ship and brought to your cot. How did he lift you so easily? Did beskar help with that? You didn’t think so, but you know next to nothing about the stuff. It was there that you drifted off to sleep.

When you awoke later, Grogu had tucked himself on your pillow with a small green hand on your cheek. It made you feel happy to see the little green one next to you, but you felt something in your hand. It was what had been on your back. Mando had one of his gloves off and was holding your hand with his bare one. His other hand was touching Grogu’s back but his glove was on. You turned away for a moment to let a tear fall. He cares about you, you’re more than useful, maybe.

Grogu remained asleep but Mando awoke, squeezing your hand in his. “You’re awake? Has the pain subsided? I should check-” You turned back to shush him and carefully sat up, the blanket falling off your partially and he released your hand to pull it around you. The back of your shirt was open and had fallen forward some when you got up, but not expose anything thankfully.  “You should keep warm. We’re on our way back to turn in the bounty. I-I am sorry.”

“There’s no reason to be sorry. They came out of nowhere. I was able to not get killed because of the blaster shots you had me practice and Grogu’s safe so-” Since you’re not holding Mando’s hand any longer, you grasp the blanket, to have something in your hand.

“You were not safe. You were hurt badly. Do…I would not blame you if you wanted to leave.” His register is low, not threatening, but there’s sadness in it. He was sitting at your bedside mere moments ago. You wished to hop back in time and keep still so you wouldn't wake him. Just to have stayed in that moment a bit longer…

“I refuse to go. I will not. You’ll have to toss me off. I’ve seen so many things and places and I want to see that much more. You’re stuck with me Mando.” The blanket drops as you release it and you grab his bare hand with both of yours. “I’m not going to but. I just don’t want to go.” Speaking as you lock your eyes on his t-visor, a deep hum is heard from the hunter, but you remain firm.

“I am called Din. Please do so while it’s just the three of us.” His thumb ran across your palm and tickled your skin making you chuckle. “You will remain and hopefully I will hear more of your laugh.” Your smile only grows with his answer. “Please rest for now. Our journey isn’t over.”

Part Two

Space Buddies: @linzels-blog @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @missladym1981 @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @magpiepills @megamindsecretlair @anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid @harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @undercoverpena @pedroshotwifey

[bwabys-scenarios]

Fixer Upper

Part 1

Perv!Kurapika x Fem!Reader

part 2

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

A/N: new series inspired by my perv!kurapika HC!! I’m not sure how long it will be, but I hope y’all will enjoy it!! He won’t be a huge perv at first, he still hasn’t had his sexual awakening. This series will be full of smut/spicy content, so be aware!!

Kurapika tried to catch his breathing as he hid behind a garbage can, gasping out in pain.

His current mission was a dangerous one and had nearly resulted in the loss of his arm. Right now, he held the bloody gash and gritted his teeth. Kurapika had the scarlet eyes, but his mission was far from over.

“I think he went that way!”

Kurapika his his presence and pulled his legs to his chest, making himself as small as possible to avoid detection.

They passed the alleyway by, the Kurta holding his breath until he couldn’t hear their footsteps any longer.

He let out a relieved sigh, shaking some of the blood from his hand and opening his phone. He sent Leorio a quick text saying his mission was nearly over, knowing how worried his friend had been.

Now, Kurapika only had to worry about finding somewhere to hide while he recovered.

But where?

He didn’t know anyone in this city, he’d never been here before. Except…

A memory came rushing back to his mind, the blonde frowning.

“You always have a place with me, Kurapika. Here’s my number.”

If he wasn’t holding his injured arm to try and stop the bleeding, he may have slapped a hand onto his forehead.

Yes, she lived here. He’d forgotten.

Kurapika scrolled through his contacts, clicking her name and scrolling through the limited messages the two had sent each other.

She’d given him her address if he ever wanted to stop by, saying he was welcome anytime.

He just hoped (Name) wouldn’t mind him getting blood all over her floor.

—————

Finding her house wasn’t easy.

She lived on the opposite side of town, in a secluded neighborhood framed by a small patch of woodland.

Although he was thankful it was far enough away that the people searching for him wouldn’t think to look there, he was still grumpy.

Kurapika couldn’t really help that. The more he moved the more blood he lost. When he finally stepped onto her porch, he had to lean against a wall for support.

He knocked on the door quickly, wincing at the sight of blood smearing the white surface.

“Coming!”

If Kurapika wasn’t nearly doubled over in pain and bleeding out, he may have been excited to hear her voice.

The girl opened the door shortly after.

It had been a while since he’d seen her, nearly two years. The last time was in York New, when she and the others had been there to support him as he attempted to avenge his clan.

He could still remember the feeling of her hands pushing his hair back, the sound of her concerned voice reaching his ears.

“Kurapika?”

The girl in front of him hadn’t changed much, besides having (shorter/longer) hair.

“Are you… oh god are you bleeding?”

He didn’t answer, stumbling inside and collapsing on the floor.

“Jesus Christ!”

(Name) kneeled down next to him, turning him so he was lying on his back.

Kurapika’s breath came out in rapid bursts, his eyes darting between (Name) and his arm.

“Hey, take deep breaths, it’s alright. I’m gonna get you into bed.”

She hooked her arm under his good one and pulled him to his feet. Kurapika leaned his weight against her, allowing her to lead him into a dark room.

“Okay, I’m going to set you down.”

She lied him down on the bed, not caring about the blood staining her sheets. She pushed her sleeves back and stood, moving to the other side of the bed to have access to his injured arm.

‘What… is she doing?’

(Name) pulled his sleeve back, wincing at the sight. “What happened to you, Kurapika?”

“… stabbed.”

“Well, I figured that much… I mean what situation were you in to get stabbed?”

When he didn’t answer, (Name) sighed. “Okay, we can talk about this later. Just…”

She placed her hand on his wound. “You’re going to pass out.”

That was the last thing he heard before blacking out.

———————

Kurapika woke up to the feeling of sunlight shining onto his face. His eyes blinked open slowly, his good arm reaching up to shield them.

‘Where… where am I?’

He surveyed his surroundings, using In to see if there was anyone near.

Kurapika sensed two auras besides his own, both of them familiar.

He looked down to see his tabard and undershirt had been removed, replaced by a plain white tshirt. His injured arm had been bandaged and the pain had faded.

‘(Name) must of done this…’

His hand grazed his arm, his eyes softening ever so slightly.

Kurapika stood up, wincing at the soreness in his legs. The blonde opened the door to the room he was in.

“Yeah I think- wait did that door just open?”

Kurapika stepped out of the doorway, being greeted by the smell of eggs and bacon cooking on the stove.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

(Name) waved from the kitchen, a familiar white haired boy sat at the counter on a tall stool.

Oh, right. He was at (Name)’s house.

“… good morning.”

Kurapika walked over, sitting down next to the boy. Said boy raised an eyebrow, turning to get a better look.

“Kurapika!?”

“Killua?”

The two stared at each other, Killua pointing at him. “When the hell did you get here?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“I live here! Now answer my question!”

He lived with (Name)?

Kurapika glanced at (Name), asking for help with his eyes.

“He got here about 24 hours ago, at night.”

Kurapika blinked. He didn’t think he’d been out that long.

“Okay, okay. Why is he here though?”

(Name) shrugged. “I’m not completely sure, when he got here he was bleeding out on my doorstep.”

Killua huffed. “Oh, so he’s not here visiting.”

Kurapika rubbed his temple. Did he have to ask so many questions when Kurapika was having trouble remembering his own name?

“You haven’t talked with (Name) in what, years? And the first time you decide to show your face is because you needed something.”

“Killua!”

Killua straightened up at the sound of (Name)’s voice. “There’s no need for all that. I offered up my home to all of you if you needed it.”

She placed a plate of food in front of the young boy, walking back and grabbing one for Kurapika as well.

“Now, eat up, Kurapika. You lost a lot of blood.”

The man knew Killua was right. Kurapika had been purposefully ignoring her, for reasons even he couldn’t completely comprehend.

He decided to listen, lifting a piece of bacon to his mouth and taking a bite. After the first bite, he realized just how hungry he was.

Kurapika shoveled scrambled eggs into his mouth, not caring too much about the taste. When was the last time he’d stopped to eat a full meal? Was it 3 or 4 days ago?

“Slow down, you’re going to choke.”

While he wasn’t paying attention, (Name) had snuck closer, placing a cup of orange juice in front of him. Ironically, her words spooked him into choking, the man coughing before downing the juice in one gulp.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in days.” Killua said before munching on a handful of Froot Loops.

“That’s because I haven’t. I’ve been busy.”

(Name) sat down in front of them, taking a bite of her own breakfast. “You should try to eat three square meals a day. You need fuel for your body.”

He didn’t reply, standing up and walking to the stove to get seconds.

“How long is he staying?”

Kurapika’s eyebrow twitched. Why didn’t Killua just ask him?

“Oh, I’m not sure. As long as he needs to.”

“Just until I recover.”

The two looked up at Kurapika. He sat back down, starting on his second helping. “I’ll be gone within a few days to a week at most. Sorry for the trouble.”

(Name) leaned her cheek against her hand, elbow on the table. “You’re no trouble at all, I’m happy to see you again.”

This was one of the reasons Kurapika hadn’t contacted her. He remembered why he had trouble speaking with her.

She was way too nice, and he didn’t like how it made him feel.

Soft.

“Thank you. I’ll make sure to reimburse you.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “No need. I don’t take money from friends.”

Killua sighed. “Don’t try to argue, she doesn’t listen to reason.”

(Name) scowled at him. “Rude.”

———————

Kurapika put his plate in the sink, watching the two from the corner of his eye. They were talking about something mundane, (Name) seemingly more passionate about the topic.

“Oh!”

(Name) turned away from Killua, giving Kurapika a smile. “I washed your tabard, and it’s drying right now. I did it by hand because I wasn’t sure if it was washing machine safe.”

“It is, but I appreciate your help.”

He suddenly remembered what happened right before he passed out.

“(Name)?”

“Yes?”

“What… what is your nen ability?”

She grinned. “I can heal people. Technically, I just speed up the recovery process going on in your cells, so it takes a lot of your stamina to heal. You didn’t have a lot the other night, so you passed out. It’s most likely why you slept so long.”

That made sense. (Name) had always been the soft, motherly type. Of course her power would be that of a healer. That was why his arm wasn’t hurting as much as it should.

“I see. Thank you, (Name).”

“No problem, hun.”

Oh dear, another reason he didn’t speak to her. She was quite fond of pet names, and although they didn’t make him uncomfortable per say, it did make him feel… something.

“Kurapika.”

Killua folded his arms against his chest, staring the blonde down. “What happened for you to get so injured?”

“I was stabbed-“

“I mean what situation you were in.”

Kurapika could swear he’d had this conversation before.

“I had a mission. To collect the scarlet eyes.”

“And?”

“That’s all.”

Killua groaned, (Name) pushing herself up and taking her plate to the sink. “You really should be more careful, Kurapika. You nearly gave me a heart attack when you showed up bleeding all over my porch.”

“… sorry.”

He hadn’t meant to worry her. It was one of the many reasons he worked alone, he hated making other people worry about him.

“Don’t be. I’m just glad you’re alright.”

She patted his back. “Now, why don’t you rest. You’ll need at least another day until your stamina is recovered.”

He nodded and walked back to his room, closing the door behind him.

It was never easy being with her for too long. Ever since the Hunter Exam, she’d been someone he struggled to be around for longer than necessary.

She smelled good, she was nice, and always made his head feel fuzzy.

And he hated it.

He had trouble concentrating on his mission when his thoughts kept drifting to her. How she was doing, where she was, if she was okay. It was all he could think about after leaving York New.

But now it was near impossible to ignore her. Maybe he should have taken his chances with the thugs that had been chasing him.

As he watched the ceiling fan spin above him, he told himself he needed to leave as soon as possible. For both his and (Name)’s own good.

He didn’t want to hurt her again.

——————

Kurapika awoke to a knock on his door, (Name) opening it up and walking in with her hands full.

“I brought your bag and clothes! If you write down your sizing I can go and grab you some spare outfits when I go shopping tomorrow.”

Kurapika sat up, pulling the bag into his lap. He peered inside, visibly relaxing when his eyes met those of the scarlet eyes. It was strange, you’d think he’d have felt anguish or anger at the sight of his clan’s dismembered eyes, but it felt familiar. Safe.

“I will accompany you.”

She tilted her head. “Are you sure? Didn’t you say you were stabbed in town?”

“Yes, but they have most likely left by now. They probably assumed I skipped town.”

(Name) sat on the edge of his bed, the man stiffening ever so slightly. “I see. Well, I’m glad your mission was a success. What are you planning to do next?”

He zipped up the backpack, placing it on the floor next to his bed. “I’ll find more information on either the Spiders or the scarlet eyes until I find one or the other. I’ll continue until I’m finished or dead.”

He said this so seriously, his aura determined. (Name) sighed.

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that. You shouldn’t throw your life away.”

He scowled, his fingers brushing against the bandages on his arm.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand. I will not stop until my clan has been avenged. I have no other purpose, that is my goal.”

It always hurt to see (Name)’s face twist into one of sadness when he stated his mission. She’d heard these words before, though more harsh the last time.

“I know, I know. Just…”

She placed a hand on his leg, squeezing lightly. “Just know that we care about you, okay? We all worry, so please, be careful.”

With that, she stood up and approached the door. “The shower is open if you need one. I just set out some towels.”

He nodded, not meeting her eye.

“Dinner is in an hour.”

She opened the door and closed it behind her.

‘I’m doing it again. I’m worrying her.’

Kurapika shook the memory of their last meeting from his head. He didn’t want to think about that right now.

He took up her offer about 15 minutes later, seeing a fluffy towel next to the shower ready for use.

There were only two sets of soap, one set being (Name)’s, and the others Killua’s.

He didn’t want to know how Killua would react if he used his, so he used (Name)’s. It was a soft, fruity scent, soothing his anxious mind as he rubbed it into his skin.

When he left the shower, he draped a towel over his shoulders, leaving his hair wet. He hadn’t dried his hair in years, never having the time.

He wish he had when (Name) came rushing over when he excited, scolding him.

“Kurapika, you’re going to get a cold. Sit!”

It was hard to argue when you’re being dragged and pushed into a sitting position.

“You have such pretty hair, you know.”

Kurapika sighed. Was his hair really that pretty now? It had been a while since he’d properly washed it. He’d take quick showers, just scrubbing it with whatever soap he could get his hands on before exciting the shower as quickly as possible.

She ran leave in conditioner through his locks, humming to herself as she combed through the knots in his hair. Her touch was gentle, much more gentle than his own.

When was the last time someone had been so close to him without trying to kill him? Even knowing (Name) wouldn’t hurt him, he still felt tense with her near. It felt unnatural, uncanny almost to have someone’s touch be so gentle and caring.

“All done. We’ll get you your own hair wash tomorrow, alright?”

He nodded in response. Kurapika just wanted her to stop touching him. He didn’t want to get used to being treated kindly. It made him soft, and that was dangerous for a man like him.

“You’ve been so quiet today. You alright?”

Kurapika jumped. He hadn’t expected her face to be so close when he turned at the sound of her voice.

“I’m… I’m just tired. Don’t worry too much.”

‘Please. It only makes it harder for me.’

He scooted away from her, turning his attention to the TV.

There was a random anime playing, Kurapika noticing Killua sat in a beanbag chair watching along and snickering.

“I’m going to work on dinner, you two be good, alright? That means you, Killua.”

She sent him a look and stood up, walking in the direction of the kitchen. Once she was out of earshot, Killua’s smile faded.

“Why did you think coming here after what you said to her is okay?”

“Excuse me?”

Killua rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. I’m talking about the last time you two were together. It upset her a lot, you know.”

Kurapika didn’t answer. He had no excuse, not able to look Killua in the eye.

“I said what needed to be said. I stated only the truth.”

Killua scowled. “I don’t care if it was the truth. She cried for days, Kurapika. Days. She was inconsolable.”

Kurapika stiffened and bit his lip. “It’s none of your business what happens between me and her. She seems fine now.”

‘God I’m such an asshole. She cried? I made her cry?’

Killua blinked, a look of confusion on his face. “None of my business? Are you insane? You’re my friend, you’re SUPPOSED to be her friend, if it’s anyone’s business it’s mine. Is she only worth your time when you need something from her?”

Kurapika didn’t answer. Killua scoffed, standing up and walking past him.

“I don’t know what the hell you want from her, but just know…”

Killua stopped right next to him.

“She may forgive easily, but I don’t. Hurt her again, and I won’t think twice about breaking your arm.”

Kurapika watched him from the corner of his eye. “I don’t plan on staying long enough to hurt anyone.”

They stared at each other, Killua’s eyes cold, but hurt. “Don’t outstay your welcome.”

———————

Dinner was quiet, and awkward. Both Killua and Kurapika seemed irritated, (Name) struggling to make conversation before giving up.

Both were quick to go to bed after dinner. (Name) flinched at the sound of doors slamming, sighing softly.

She walked around the house, picking up little messes KIllua had made during the day.

‘Messy brat.’

She giggled to herself, placing another empty box of chocolate robots in the trash. She wondered how he was able to eat so many and stay so thin.

“(Name)?”

She jumped, quickly turning to see Kurapika standing in the doorway of his room, staring at her with his intense gray eyes.

“Oh- yes?”

He stayed silent for a moment, seemingly choosing his words carefully.

“What… time are you leaving tomorrow?”

She hummed. “I’m thinking after breakfast, so around 8 am. Is that alright with you?”

He nodded, looking away. “Yes, that… that should be fine.”

Thinking the conversation was over, she continued cleaning, humming to herself.

“(Name)?”

He was still standing there, his hand gripping the doorway hard enough to make a creaking sound.

“Yes?”

Kurapika bit his lip, his eyes on the ground.

“I…”

It was silent again, his hair falling to hide his eyes.

“Never mind. Goodnight, (Name).”

“Oh. Goodnight.”

Kurapika closed the door behind him, holding his chest.

He had told himself he’d apologize for his past actions, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak.

‘She probably hates me, but she’s kind enough to help even those that hurt her. God… I’m such a fucking idiot.’

He sunk into the floor, bringing his knees to his chest.

“My mission will always come before you. Always.”

He flinched at the memory of his words, groaning as he rubbed his temple. Kurapika knew those words were true, but he wished he hadn’t said it out loud. Just the look on her face when he spat it at her, right after she’d risked her life to help him was enough to make his chest ache.

Had he really become so cruel that he couldn’t apologize to someone so dear to him? Would he really spend the rest of his life running from his feelings? From her?

‘It’s safer that way. For both of us.’

He sighed, pulling himself up and plopping down onto his bed. It smelled nice, (Name)’s scent lingering on the comforter as he pulled it up to his chin.

Kurapika couldn’t allow himself to get too comfortable. If he did, he wasn’t the only one who’d be getting hurt.

[rebouks]

She knew-.. Robin was sure of it.

Despite her warmth, he’d always been slightly unnerved by aunt Alma’s presence; there was something odd about her that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Some people were harder to read than others, like Alex, but it was still possible.

Alma’s mind was like an impenetrable vault in comparison. Any attempts to feel or hear anything she did were met with a metaphorical brick wall, leaving him reeling as though he’d collided with it head first-.. but not tonight. Tonight, Alma was like an open book, and Robin was convinced she was doing it on purpose.

She’d told him all about her struggles as a child; how she didn’t fit in, how people teased her for being too sensitive, how hard it was to figure out who she was amongst the clamour of everyone else’s inner most image of themselves-.. all the while allowing him unlimited access to those very memories, like a handpicked blooper reel, just for him. Of course, that wasn’t the case though.. was it?

Alma had stopped talking now, but Robin still wasn’t sure how to react. He sat in silence instead, staring at nothing in particular for far longer than what could be considered normal.

“Can you hear me?” he thought, deciding to try a little experiment.

Nothing. Okay, so she couldn’t read his mind-.. then what the heck was she getting at? How had she so succinctly summed up his entire existence in less than fifteen minutes?

“I would’ve liked somewhere as quiet as this when I was young, it’s a shame we didn’t have an attic…” Alma offered, clearly trying to relate to Robin’s situation in any way she could. He still wasn’t entirely sure why, but she clearly wanted to help, and Robin didn’t know anyone else who understood him as well as she did, so perhaps he ought to let her try. He finally abandoned his switch and cautiously joined her atop his favourite, motheaten couch.

“What’re you getting at?” he said bluntly, curiosity getting the better of his manners. Alma chuckled softly, “You’re just like your father.” “It’s genetics, apparently…” Robin let loose a brief grin, glad to be compared to Oscar.

“I don’t know how exactly, but you’re different, Robin-.. and I thought it high time you knew you weren’t alone, and that we can’t let these things get the best of us.” Alma smiled softly as she spoke, but Robin was still too wary to be completely transparent. “We?” he asked, dubiously. “We’re few and far between, but you’re certainly not the only one who’s a little.. special, shall we say? That’s better than different, maybe?” Alma suggested.

Robin hummed thoughtfully, shaking his head, “Special is just another word for different, or weird.” Alma scoffed playfully, “And what’s wrong with being weird? I’m weird-.. we’re all a bit weird!”

“How’re you weird?” Robin asked, squinting at Alma accusingly. “Well, I can sense things I certainly shouldn’t be able to.” Alma started, excited to be getting somewhere. “Emotions radiate from people like a space heater-.. they’re not always pleasant, of course, but I can soak them up if I want to.”

Robin blinked, “Only if you want to..?” “Uh-huh.” Alma nodded. “You can block it out?!” Robin spluttered, suddenly and completely forgetting to maintain his ignorance before swiftly correcting himself. “I mean-.. it sounds like you can pick and choose, right?”

Alma nodded once more, “It wasn’t easy, but I spent a lot of years practicing.” “Years?” Robin sounded crestfallen. “I didn’t have a mentor…” Alma winked.

Robin allowed himself to smirk, figuring he might as well drop at least part of the act at this point. He was still a little nervous about being approached about such things so brazenly, but at least he knew why Alma perturbed him so much now, she was blocking him out on purpose-.. and she couldn’t read his mind either, which was always a plus.

The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know that he possessed that particular ability. Who’d want to hang out with someone who could access their inner most thoughts, the one’s they’d never dream of saying out loud? He shuddered involuntarily, hoping he’d never meet anyone that could read his.

Clementine finally nudged Robin, dragging him back to the present with her ghostly touch. “She looked right at me just then-.. she smiled! Did you see?” Robin spun around, realising that Alma had almost begun her descent. He must’ve missed her goodbye. “Wait!”

Alma paused expectantly, causing Robin to second guess himself and retreat into silence. “I won’t be far, sweetheart-.. whenever you’re ready.” Robin shivered as Clementine poked him again, “She can definitely see me…” “Can you, uh-…”

“See the ghost poking you?” Alma giggled, sounding far younger than she was. The vault doors had snapped shut again by now, but Robin got the impression that aunt Alma was just as excited as he was to find someone else who was weird. “Can you hear her?”

“Maybe-.. though I’m quite sure she hasn’t said anything yet.” Alma peered at Clementine expectantly. “Hey!” Clementine exclaimed as Robin tried to shove her into action, his hand ending up halfway through her waist instead.

“What? It’s not like you can feel it.” Robin snorted. Alma laughed heartily, thoroughly amused. “Well, I heard that-.. you two are good friends, huh?”

Robin nodded slightly, releasing a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. “I thought I was the only one who could see her-.. that maybe I was going insane…” “Far from it, honey! You hit me up whenever you feel like it, okay?”

Previous // Next

[spreadwardiard]

The Rot (part 2)

Dazed and confused, Orion pax comes online surrounded by rubble. Luckily, he isn't alone. However, that does not mean he's safe.

Part 2 of my 'inspired by MLP infection' AU! I hope y'all enjoy it! Again, big thanks to @lets-try-some-writing for all the help and encouragement!

Part 1 here

The hot, yet soothing tingle of his self-repair system’s nanites tending to the aching wounds of his frame was what finally brought Orion’s processor back online. His awareness floated slowly in and out, only able to sense the slowly ebbing pain signals from his damaged frame. His helm throbbed aggressively if he so much as even attempted a thought. It was reassuring, however, that each time Orion’s awareness floated back to him, he ached a little less and that his thoughts were able to come more freely. 

Where was he? Even without his full processing power, he knew that he was not in the safety of his berth. Accessing his memories did little to answer that question. He recalled Megatronus contacting him about a train, and he could remember that he had indeed left his hab, but beyond that, his memories were still too damaged to retrieve. The only option available was to allow himself to float away once more and allow the nanites time to continue their repair.

When he next came to awareness, it lacked the gentle ebb and flow of before. Rapid flashes of his most recent memories assaulted him in waves: coming online to an unexpected call, Megatronus’ unexpected declaration of affection, his walk to the station, boarding the train… 

His processor throbbed as if it would burst while the emotions tied to his memories crashed into effect: confusion, worry and then fear. Orion’s optics shuttered online just as the panic hit him. He sat rapidly, causing his helm to spin and his optical input to become distorted. 

“Shield your field!” The command was hissed at him with quiet urgency, and Orion clamped down on instinct. He brought his servo to his helm and groaned softly as he rubbed at his closed optics with his palm in a desperate attempt to placate the pain in his processor. 

“What happened?” Orion croaked out softly. Behind him came the soft shuffling of small pedes, and before Orion could even process what that meant, his companion was at his side.

“There’s no time to explain, Can you walk? It isn’t safe here.” Orion reset his optics, and slowly opened them once more, relieved that his inputs were no longer spinning. He was surrounded by broken glass and crumpled sheets of metal, dangerously sharp. Strips of soft mesh cabling dangled from above him, some slowly dripping fluids that he couldn’t identify. 

Orion’s optics finally found his companion. He ex-vented in relief as he was struck with recognition. Ravage observed him with a raised optical ridge, and the look on his face gave Orion the impression that the cassette hadn’t expected him to come online as suddenly as he had. 

“I think so?” Orion whispered through his grimace as he felt the stiffness in his hydraulics as he shifted his weight, to maneuver onto his knees. A flurry of diagnostic pings assaulted his HUD, alerting him to several injuries that were, luckily, non-critical. 

“Good. We need to leave. Now.” It was a command, and one Orion thought almost sounded laced with fear. Ravage darted forward, his cyber-feline frame having no issue ducking beneath what appeared to be the mangled remains of a bench that had been partially ripped from the walls in the crash. 

It wasn’t especially difficult to maneuver his frame through the small space, but it did ache like the Pits to crawl his way through what was left of the compartment. He was dangerously low on fuel, that much was obvious by how exhausting it was to hold his frame and move at such an angle. 

That also explains why my nanites did not complete my self repair. Orion thought as he dragged himself forward through the jagged remains. By the time his helm popped through a crushed window, he was venting heavily, and his arms shook with the strain of holding up his weight.

“Hurry. We don’t have much time.” Ravage paced nervously outside the wreckage, his optics constantly scanning around them. Orion begrudgingly hauled himself free from the shattered window and grimaced as he stood, taking only a klik to allow his optics to adjust to the increased light before following the cyber-feline between two hunks of deformed metal. 

Orion almost couldn’t believe the utter devastation around him. Smashed bits of transport compartments lie crumpled as far as he could see. Mutilated remains of Cybertronians were scattered haphazardly about, some obviously crushed by impact alone, while others looked…. Gnawed at, as if something had consumed them. 

He’d never seen anything like it before, not even on his long deep-dives into the darkest reaches of the data-net. Orion’s tanks churned, hot and sickly sweet, at the thought of what could have done damage like that. Some of those bodies were completely eviscerated… 

Orion focused his optics on Ravage, not wanting to see any more of the surrounding carnage than he had to. This was beyond wrong.  His internal chronometer told him that he had been offline for several cycles, which should have been plenty of time for rescue crews to have saved not only him, but everyone else strewn around. Surely, the Transport Commission would have sent a crew to clean the debris off the tracks. 

It seemed that he and Ravage were the only two living mechs around. But if that were the case, what had Ravage so anxious? It was painfully obvious as Ravage led him through the debris field, zigzagging to stay in the shadows of the rubble, that he was trying to avoid them being seen, but from whom, Orion couldn’t begin to guess. 

It seemed like the rubble stretched forever. The closer they came to the front of the train, the worse everything seemed to be.  Train compartments were smashed against and piled atop each other in such a disordered way that it almost could have been beautiful. If only the place wasn’t littered with corpses and plastered with splattered energon.

“Hey!” A panicked voice called out to the pair, causing Ravage to startle and Orion’s helm to whip towards the source of the sound. A young mech, pinned at the waist beneath a large scrap of steel, waved frantically at them. “Oh! Thank Primus, you’re not one’a them…” He could see the fear that emanated from his optics and the stains of dried optical lubricants painted down his face. 

Orion thought nothing of it. His internal processes immediately flooded him with coding to provide aid. He rushed towards the trapped youngster, ignoring the pings flooding his circuits from his injuries. He wasn’t that far from them. 

“Pax! Stop!” Ravage called out to him in a harsh whisper, his frustration evident in the slight growl lacing his command, but Orion could not heed that request. Not when his coding so persistently urged him to help someone so desperately in need.

“You gotta get me outta here! They’re coming!” A wall of hunger assaulted the archivist’s EM receiver, unlike anything he’d ever felt before: thick, desperate, and driving. Something was coming, that was for sure, and Orion had a feeling that whatever it was, was the same thing that had caused all the carnage he’d been trying to avoid looking at. He had to get him out fast, or he’d be torn apart, just like the corpses littering the whole area. 

A weight slammed into him from behind, sending Orion careening face-first into the ground. Ravage hunched atop his back and hissed furiously into his audials. “There isn’t time, Pax! They’re here! We have to leave him!” 

Orion lifted his helm, anger coursing through his circuits like an inferno. He opened his intake to retort, but was frozen solid in fear when a shambling mech, painted in red and gold, tumbled down from atop the hunk of metal pinning the youngling down, landing with a ground shaking thud. Chunks of his armor were missing from his frame, and Orion immediately recognized the same thick, green goop oozing from his intake and down his front as he saw the drunken mech purge before the crash. 

The youngling screamed as the mech shambled towards him. Ravage jumped, and suddenly was in Orion’s line of sight, their faces nearly touching,

“We have to go now! More will come!” Ravage pushed his entire face against Orion’s aggressively, an obviously desperate attempt to push him up onto his pedes. The youngling’s field erupted suddenly in a hot, sickening burst of panic. “There’s no saving him now, Pax!”

Orion couldn’t remember getting to his pedes. Everything happened so fast. The shambling mech grabbed the youngling by the arm and mercilessly tore at the plating. Another mech, covered in the same putrid ooze, shambled forward from the shadows, and Orion’s processor flooded him with a new command: Run! 

Ravage was two steps ahead of him on that front, and Orion instinctually followed the cassette as he swiftly led them away, even passing more of the shambling, rotting mechs that were hobbling towards the source of the screams. 

The youngling’s field projected his agony and fear of death far beyond the wreckage field, and by the time the screaming stopped, Orion was venting far too heavily to even notice its absence. He ran until the pressure building in his hydraulics overpowered his internal command to flee. 

His HUD flashed red. He was overheating, and his hydraulics couldn’t continue at the brutal pace that his survival coding had forced on him. He had to stop. His frame shook from the overexertion. He couldn’t stop the anguished screams of that mech from playing on loop in his processor. If he’d had any fuel in his tanks, he would have purged it all right then. 

“Snap out of it, Pax. We can’t stop now. We’re almost there.” Ravage’s annoyed whisper broke through his inner turmoil. Ravage was right. He couldn’t afford to stop. Not when those things were out there, likely to follow them once they were finished with-

No! Orion forced the thought out of his processor and forced his legs forward, despite the stinging pressure and pinging diagnostics. He wasn’t ready to return to the Well just yet. He was grateful that Ravage accepted this slower pace that his frame now demanded. 

They were following the tracks. Orion hadn’t noticed when they were running. All he was able to focus on was Ravage and trying to keep up with the far nimbler cyber-feline. He wasn’t even entirely certain how far they ran before he stopped, and he absolutely was not about to turn around and find out. 

When they finally stopped, it was at what appeared to be an empty Emergency Depot. They were scattered relatively regularly along the various strings of transport lines around the planet. Ravage led him inside, and as soon as the door snapped shut behind them, he let out a furious hiss. 

“Don’t you ever do something that slagging stupid again! You almost got the both of us killed!” Orion jumped away from his smaller companion and opened his intake to respond, but Ravage gave him no time to do so. 

“I will not die for you, Orion Pax.  Do you understand me? If you pull something like that again, I will leave you behind! I don’t care if you’re Megatronus’ favorite upper cast plaything. You ain’t worth dying for!” 

It was like the very air was sucked from his vents. Orion deflated, his gaze falling to the floor and his finials lowering. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know” 

Ravage sighed dismissively and flicked his tail. He said nothing for a few kliks, but Orion didn’t want to think about why. He had too many other concerns vying for his attention. His tanks ached with their emptiness, and his frame felt heavier than he’d ever remembered it being. He ached deeply, down to the protoform, and he still had no clue what was going on. Overshadowing all of that was the fear that clawed at his spark and made him wish he’d just slipped into stasis instead of coming online to this nightmare. 

“Frag… you’re a real piece of work, aren’t you, Pax?” Ravage said, but his tone was gentler than before. It made Orion think of when he was a sparkling, annoying his caretakers for attention, which, unfortunately, didn’t make him feel any better in the moment. 

“Megatronus just told me to get on the train. Ravage… is he alright?” The cyber-feline rolled his optics and turned to slink deeper into the building. Orion had no choice but to follow, making sure to close and lock every door they came through, just in case. 

“I don’t know. Comms are down all over. I can’t even contact Soundwave.” Ravage huffed softly at that. “I found this place about 2 cycles ago. There’s some energon rations stashed in the back, and some mediberths if you need to recharge. They, uh… they haven’t come back. They tend to hang around the crash.” 

“The rations taste like scrap, but the packaging says it's nutritionally complete,’ whatever that means.” Ravage shrugged, and hopped up onto a sofa in the dimly lit space that Orion could now see was a lounge of sorts, probably for the mechs who normally were stationed here. 

Orion couldn't care less how the rations tasted. His tanks demanded refueling, and his coding told him that he would feel better all over if only he could get something into his him. He tore into them, devouring one after the other. He hadn’t even realized how hungry he was, or how much his systems had been starving for the power to simply function. It took four entire ration cubes to satiate him. 

The effect struck almost immediately once he lowered his last cube to the floor. His self-repair routines rebooted, and he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge for recharge. He didn’t even try to make it to the mediberths. The lounge sofa was much closer, and right now, it looked like the most comfortable thing on the entire planet. 

Ravage only huffed softly as he hopped down from the sofa, and up onto the adjacent chair, where he curled up in the way that cyber-felines did; curled in a ball with his helm tucked under his tail.

“We can’t stay here.” Orion said, his voice just above a whisper. His processor was fighting against the wave of recharge that was crashing over him, forcing him to think about how close those things really were to them, and mixing those thoughts with how much he wished Megatronus was here… 

“Not for long, no.” Ravage glanced up at him, with a raised optical ridge, his tone dry and tired. Orion tried to keep his optics focused on him. 

“I promised him I would get there.” Orion’s vocalizer started to slur his glyphs, and Ravage tilted his helm and scrunched his optics in confusion. 

“Promised who?” Ravage’s tone said that he really didn’t care. 

“Mega…” Orion’s optics shuttered closed, and he in-vented deeply to quell the anxiety that still bubbled behind the coding trying to force him into recharge. 

The cyber-feline snorted at that and laid his helm back down. 

Orion frowned and forced his optics back open. There was still too much data he needed to understand what was happening around him. 

“What happened to everyone?” 

Ravage sighed at that question, and lifted his helm to meet Orion’s optics once more. 

“Shut up, Pax, and recharge. I’ll tell you all I know when we come online.” 

[hayanwulf]

Someone turns Stephen into a kitten, and Tony takes care of him.

Tony knelt and bent down to peek under the bed.

From the darkness, two large, blue eyes stared back at him, pupils blown wide in fear.

“Stephen..?”

The cat simply continued to stare intensely at him, giving no hints of acknowledgement.

“He cannot understand you,” Wong’s voice informed Tony as he straightened his back to look up at the sorcerer. “It was a simple but effective curse. Turning him into a young kitten rather than an adult cat forced his brain to fall back on instincts. While his mind and memories are preserved, he has lost self-awareness, so he would not understand his memories even if he’s capable of accessing them.”

Tony bent down a little again to look at the cat hiding under the bed. The cat hissed at him, perfect white canines sharply visible on a background of black. Stephen couldn’t even recognize him right now.

“And you can’t reverse it,” Tony stated more than asked, turning back to the other sorcerer.

Wong paused. “It might be possible,”he said. “But it is dangerous for me to do it.”

“You’re saying that it might not be dangerous for him to do it?” Tony asked pointedly.

“I am certain that he would be able to safely reverse it himself, if he was self-aware of his identity and his magic.”

And he wasn’t, if his wide-blown eyes and hisses under the breath were any indication. He couldn’t recognize any of them; not Tony, not Wong, not even Levi, who was floating in the background with droopy lapels, sad at the rejection by their Chosen. It had been quite the disaster when they had tried to wrap around Stephen and Stephen had flipped out, almost making some relic of thousand weeping souls fall off a shelf and break. Wong had firmly told them to stay far away from Stephen for the time being.

The way those blue eyes stared at them all, it felt like someone was twisting needles into Tony’s heart.

“Sweetcakes, come out please?” He gently spoke to Stephen, hoping to whatever magic gods were up there that Stephen could recognize something in Tony, or at least realize that Tony was not going to harm him.

Of course, the words meant nothing to a little, scared kitten’s mind.

“Look after him,” Wong said, moving to leave the room. “I will continue looking for another way.”

Tony wanted to go after him. Wanted to help look through books, research, speculate possible solutions. But..

He turned back to the bed, not quite bent down, just looking at Stephen’s general direction. His back was screaming from all the strain at this point; he was too old for this.

He didn’t know how to help. Of course he wanted to take care of Stephen. But Stephen.. Stephen was afraid of him. He was probably just afraid in general, a tiny kitten with not a clue about the world stuck in a room with a tall, intimidating creature. What was Tony supposed to do?

He leaned his back against the bed and made himself comfortable on the floor. He couldn’t see Stephen from here, but knew FRIDAY would inform him if anything changed.

His thumb, in an instinctive gesture, reached to stroke his wedding ring where it rested on his ring finger. He looked down at it. What had happened to Stephen’s ring in his transformation curse? He mentally made a note to ask Wong about it later.

“Stephen?” He spoke softly, letting his hand fall to the side. “I won’t hurt you, Cheesecakes. Don’t be scared of me.”

There was no answer. He wasn’t expecting one.

He wasn’t sure how long he had sat there, just reminiscing on memories, when FRIDAY spoke up.

“He’s moving, Boss.”

Tony went completely still, not wanting to startle Stephen by moving abruptly.

“Farther or closer?” He asked FRIDAY.

“He’s almost next to you.”

Tony sucked in a deep breath as his heart stuttered. Carefully, he craned his neck to a side and glanced down.

The black tip of a nose with white whiskers peeked out of the bed’s shadow, only a foot away from Tony. Very slowly, the small, black, fluffy body of a kitten stepped out.

God, he’s so small.

So small, in fact, that Tony was certain that he could wrap a hand around the kitten’s entire body.

Stephen still had a lot of mistrust and wariness in his eyes as he scanned his surroundings. Eventually, his eyes landed on Tony.

Tony stayed completely still, waiting patiently.

Stephen didn’t move either, staring intensely at Tony, no hint of recognition in his eyes.

For a solid second, Tony wondered if they were going to spend the entire rest of the day staring at each other, neither courageous enough to make a move.

But then, Stephen backed away — no, he stumbled back, for no conceivable reason, and sat down on his hind legs after quickly recovering.

It was at that moment Tony realized.

His hands.

Had his scars translated into his transformed body? Were his paws hurting? Was that the actual reason he was generally afraid of everything and nothing?

“FRI,” he spoke in a low voice as to not startle Stephen. “His hands? How are they?”

There was a moment of pause as FRIDAY took scans.

“His front paws are heavily damaged, Boss. They appear to be a direct translation of his hand injuries.”

Oh, Stephen.

He sighed softly. It had been hurting Stephen, hadn’t it?

Even on the best days, Stephen was terrible at expressing when he was in pain, or needed help. But now.. now he quite literally couldn’t express.

Tony’s heart ached.

He tried to carefully approach Stephen with a hand. The gesture, however, ticked Stephen off and he hissed at Tony, teeth bared, pressing his little body back against the nightstand.

Tony paused, looking painfully at the kitten.

He wanted to help so badly. He could ease the pain, give Stephen some relief. But it wouldn’t do if Stephen only got more scared of him.

“Hey, Sweetcakes, let me help you?” Tony asked him gently. “Please?”

Stephen did not respond, simply looking at Tony with narrow slit eyes, looking ready to bolt.

Tony risked it again and tried to slowly approach him with a hand.

Stephen hissed, pressed himself more against the nightstand, but did not claw at Tony. Tony doubted that he’d even be able to, with those paws.

Tony brought his hand closer, until it was inches apart from the kitten, and— yup, there was the claw. Stephen swiped at his hand with a claw, but it did barely more than scratch Tony’s skin. His claws weren’t even properly out.

He waited for a second his hand hovering near the kitten, and perhaps Stephen had not lost any of his intelligence because he quickly realized that he wasn’t going to be able to make a dent on his human and stopped.

It didn’t stop him from hissing at Tony, though.

Tony slowly reached around the side of the kitten’s face, and stroked a gentle finger over his head. The hisses continued on, but Stephen wasn’t fighting him either, so he took that as a positive sign.

It was a few minutes of just sitting in that awkward position, trying to calm the hissy kitten with slow, gentle strokes over his head, the side of his ears, his chin and neck. The hisses slowly toned down with time.

When Tony thought it was safe enough, he reached down for Stephen’s front paws. Tentatively, he took one between his fingers. It startled Stephen a little and he hissed, trying to pull his paw back. Tony let him pull it back.

He tried a second time, taking the paw between his fingers. Stephen gave him a low growl, though did not try to pull back. Tony brought his other hand close to Stephen as well, and took the paw between his two palms to trap heat there. Trying to massage kitten paws like he would Stephen’s human fingers would just not work, but heat had always been great at relieving his pain.

It seemed to be working, because when Tony tried to take Stephen’s other paw in his palms, the kitten didn’t resist. The hisses had completely died down, and the under-the-breath growls only grew fainter and fainter from there.

WIth time, Stephen’s body eased, letting go of the tension. At some point, he allowed Tony to take him in his lap. At some point after that, he fell asleep. And when Tony stopped ‘massaging’ his paws, he woke up and placed his little paw right back on Tony’s palm.

Tony laughed, a delighted sound. “Needy, are we?”

Stephen looked up at him with the expression of an innocent kitten. For a second Tony truly wondered if it was just the feline charm or if the asshole really was self-aware and all, and was playing Tony for free massages.

Not that Tony would have complained, had that been the case.

For now, he was just happy to see all traces of fear and wariness gone from those pretty, blue eyes.

He smiled when Stephen let out a faint purr in response to his heat-massage.

“I’ll give you a massage every day, if it keeps you happy.”

[conceptofjoy]

17776 Au idea below

Immortal Dirk would be a miserable man. It’s like he just kept waiting and waiting for SOMETHING his whole life, and it just never got to him. He can’t die respected or acknowledged like he thought he would get to be so he keeps living as nothing.

He was happy to work at NASA, he worked hard for his career. When the immortal thing happened, he was part of the lucrative team of scientists that did everything they could to research the reasoning of it and then after, he worked on making everything run smoothly for humanity. Then it just. Teetered off.

He and Roxy made a pact to check up on each other every other year. Then five years, then ten. They would drag each other out of their respective spirals, but Roxy broke out of the pattern. Dirk did not. He refused to reach out to her every time it happened. Roxy doesn’t want to be caught in the past by Dirk who is unwilling to get better. Lord knows she tried everything, but he has to wake the fuck up. If Dirk gave her a call ONCE, she would welcome him with open arms.

Once upon a time, he strictly followed an image of masculinity. He carried Cal around, worked his 9-5 (and more) without fuss, and he was PROUD of it. When the evolution of societal norms left him in the dust, he was shaken. He calls himself a man but he doesn’t know what that means. His self doubt runs deep, and the doubt is the reason why he ends up deeming himself not worthy of self care. He lets his hair grow exceedingly long, doesn’t shower as much as he’d like to, doesn’t eat beyond what the nanobots give him, he does the bare minimum to survive. He hasn’t left his apartment in decades, and frankly, he's afraid to leave.

==> Enter Hal. He’s New Horizons. I was going to choose Mars Odyssey, but the Hal thing would then not be something he chose. There’s a probe called MUSE and Roman which could be the cherubs, but I think they could also be non-probe tech that gained sentience. 

It’s something Dirk had done, he had developed a special interest for New Horizons. Roxy shared with him different files that NH had made, since it had become somewhat of a special interest. As the years went by and NASA tech wasnt so heavily guarded, she had given him access to the probe as like, a semi live feed. There wasn’t a ton to watch obviously, but he enjoyed scrolling through the data that it sent back. He became overzealous though, poking around in the software, he developed a rudimentary AI like it was one of his bots. Now instead of just inputting a command to receive data, he was able to actually converse with NH to get them as well as have conversations about the findings. He was eventually caught and reprimanded, but in the greater scale of things happening in the world, it wasn’t too bad, I guess? He became part of a team to develop other AI for the public to talk to because it’s VERY important to encourage hobbies or new careers in an environment like this. He helped draw out some plans, but didn’t actually work on other AIs because, creating varied ‘fake’ personalities didn’t appeal to him.

That AI became the basis of the ego that NH formed. Thus Hal came to be. It’s also the reason why he immediately seeked out Dirk to shake all the answers he could from him. He absolutely caught Dirk’s attention, his speech patterns being familiar to him, he set up the quantum messaging immediately. Hal here doesn’t aaaactually have his memories, but his “inimitably rad typing style, tone, cadence, and personality are pretty damn indistinguishable from DS's native neurological responses”.

They talk for a while, and then Dirk literally fucking passes out because that’s like the most his body has done for years. Hal is like oh shit did I do that??? And feels guilty so he texts Roxy. She’s HYPED that he’s a sentient probe too like another one she chats with, but becomes wistful because of how much Hal reminds her of Dirk. Hal is surprised that they don’t talk until he isn’t. Hal is two seconds into awareness and is already plotting shit. He doesn’t want Roxy to deal with his issues again, so elects to help him by hacking into one of the bots he’s made. They’re like all mirrors of his younger bro-ish self but in various levels of damage because he’s just a fucked up dude. It’s also the reason why none of his bots gained sentience, all too broken internally to do so. He couldn’t touch NH because it technically didn’t belong to him.

Hal is pre-disillusioned Dirk. He gets that he has a fuck ton of illnesses and neurosis unchecked, but like he could have never guessed as to why he fell THIS hard. Why he stopped taking his fucking testosterone too? Bc he’s like always strived to atain this ‘peak’ level of masculinity. It takes a while for Hal to mentally be on the same page as him bc of that dissonance. It’s what Hal does in the au, he takes it upon himself to be his therapist (bro doe NOT know what he’s doing) and helps him recover as well as reaches out to his old friends to see if they’d like to talk to him again. Dirk’s fuckin terrified by the idea, but it goes slowly. Jane’s up first, then Jake and Roxy.

Dirk also confronts Hal about his own anxieties about being alone. He’s one of the pinnacles for pre-immortal earth, but does he feel obsolete? He is also unable to die a hero, immortal until… Well I guess forever. Earth will move on without him, and he’ll stay frozen like a prehistoric bug trapped in amber. Both of them are dissociated from greater society.

[swappingbryn]

Always Save Before You Exit

Kenny was tired of the drudgery of life, working, gym, his nagging girlfriend, even his friends were boring him. It didn’t matter that he was good looking, rode a motorcycle, he was just bored, which wasn’t helped by his tedious construction job.

He’d heard of a new service where you could rent out your body, you’d set the price, set all the limits, and if any conditions were violated, the rental would automatically end. He’d been thinking of doing a trip across the country during the summer, and this would help him be able to afford it.

He set up an appointment and heard them out. He wasn’t sure, but he figured he’d give it a chance, he had nothing to lose, if no one liked his price or the rules, they’d turn him down. He started simple, no smoking, no unprotected sex, no tattoos or permanent marks, he opted to be unaware of the time he was being rented, he chose not to give the person access to his memories, and then shot for the moon with the rental fee, $1,000/day, clicking “Save” after each page. Once he got to the last page, he clicked “Save” once again and walked out, unaware he didn’t click “Submit.”

As he walked out, he didn’t see anyone else around, but that was a mix of adrenaline and tunnel vision, as there was an old, thin man sitting in the corner who entered the room next to fill out his profile.

When Icarus walked into the room, he noticed the computer was still opened to Kenny’s profile, and he could still make edits. Icarus went to town making changes, knowing he’d love to have Kenny’s body. He changed the limits, the rules, the settings, even the price. And then he clicked “Submit,” finalizing Kenny’s account, and setting up his own.

No less than an hour after he arrived home, Kenny received an email saying his body had been rented. The email noted the renter agreed to everything Kenny listed, and so if Kenny accepted, no further bargaining was needed. Kenny was prompted with a warning when he clicked accept “Warning: All rentals over five days required additional disclosures. Are you sure you want to engage in this rental? All rental funds will be placed in escrow earning interest until the end of the rental period. Do you agree?” Kenny happily clicked Yes. He was expecting to wake up a few days later, with a huge deposit into his account.

However, Kenny was instantly unable to move, with his body moving on its own. He was petrified, thinking something had gone horribly wrong. His body was moving without him in control, he could hear his voice talking, “Hmm, this feels so good. This voice is so deep, and I’m so young and hot. This is the best use of my annual bonus from work. I don’t regret spending 7Gs got this body.” Kenny realized he never looked at the rental time, but figured while he hated this arrangement, it would only be for a week. His body went into his bedroom and jerked off, several times, with Kenny feeling it each time. Then his girlfriend came home and Kenny heard his voice say “Hey Clarice, want to have some fun?” To which he thought ‘how does he know her name?’ She relented after a few minutes and they fucked, over and over, with her moaning how much better it felt than usual. Kenny also realized how good it felt, and that his body wasn’t wearing a condom.

Kenny realized how much he’d fucked up. Whoever this guy was, he somehow had access to all Kennys memories, Kenny was aware of the rental, and apparently none of the rules were in play. Kenny felt his body smoking like a chimney, felt tattoos being applied, felt his body fucking like crazy, his girlfriend, random women, even men. It wasn’t until the eighth day Kenny was scared, as he was still unable to control anything.

This hell went on for days beyond count. Kenny eventually gave up and retreated into the recesses of his mind. Until finally, he woke up and had control. He woke up to kids running around, jumping on his bed.

His phone, which he knew was his, but it was much different and high tech-y pinged, “Thank you for using our service. The rental fee of $7,300 plus 5% annual interested has been deposited into your account. We hope you enjoyed your rental.” And “A deposit of $19,369.08 has been made to your account.”

Kenny ran from bed and looked in a mirror. He was old now, grey hair, leathered skin, he felt a craving for a cigarette which he instinctively lit, and he saw tattoos covering his arms and chest.

He ran to the rental office to demand answers. It turns out he now had six kids, from four different women, still the same shitty job, and the same bike. It was only then that he was shown a copy of his rental agreement. “No rules, full awareness, full memory access” was all that was written, not the pages of rules he set up. And then he saw that the rental amount was different too, rather than $1,000 per day it was $1. Kenny had given up twenty years of his youth for $7,300, and while that almost tripled in size, he now had a huge family, a bad job and a nicotine addition.

@malevessel for the picture and rental idea

[adrixivy]

hi ppl! so here’s a list that shows how much Tony actually cares about Peter. How Peter was so impressionable to him. (Not in movie order because I gave up doing that)

1. When Peter was absolutely spent in the fight in Civil War but he wanted to get back up, Tony asked if he’s okay and stopped him from continuing to fight. He didn’t want Peter to fight anymore as he knew Peter was tired and should probably rest.

2. There was an ad that had Tony and Happy. They were talking about a guest list and Tony wanted Peter to be invited. Happy was reluctant because he would have to take care of Peter but Tony still insisted because he said “Why do you hate fun?” He wanted Peter there because he is someone fun to be with and he actually enjoyed Peter’s company.

3. When they had that argument on the roof, Tony said “If you died, I feel like that’s on me” He said that because he made Peter’s suit. Peter was just operating in Queens and various parts of New York in his onesie suit but Tony made him an advance suit which can do so much more. He even gave Peter an A.I in the suit which is known as Karen. Peter simply wanted to be a friendly neighbourhood Spider-man at first but because Tony wanted his help in Germany, Peter felt like he could do so much more after that. Tony knew that and he felt like it was his fault if Peter got injured doing that so he tried making Peter stick to being a friendly neighborhood spider-man and just focus on the little guys.

4. When Tony saved Peter from drowning, Peter was cold as he sat on top some play area thing while he asked if Tony tracked him. Tony did and he just either happened to check on Peter’s whereabouts and see Peter in danger or got a notice from Friday that Peter was in distress and sent a suit to him. Not only was he able to track Peter’s location but also his vitals. He even installed a heater in Peter’s suit and warmed Peter up.

5. Peter was going after the Vulture and Peter removed the baby monitor protocol and the tracker. He was suddenly surprised with Karen and all the protocols that wasn’t accessible before. He was just made known to everything that Tony really put in his suit. Tony thought of everything that Peter could possibly need. Hell, he made 576 variations of webs for Peter! Even Peter was surprised. “Mr Stark really overdid it”. He definitely did.

6. When Peter was on the ferry ship, Tony called him out of nowhere to congratulate him on what Peter did in DC. “Nice work in DC. My dad never really gave so any support so I’m just tryna break that cycle” He was worried Peter would feel neglected and that his efforts wasn’t appreciated like what Howard did to Tony despite everything Tony invented or did. He didn’t want Peter to feel the same way he did so he wanted to tell Peter he did a good job.

7. When he found out what Peter was doing at the ferry, he called the FBI and even went there himself. Peter thought it was just a suit sent to save him but Tony was there himself. He came because he actually cared and we could see in his face when Peter said he didn’t care that he was actually hurt Peter said that.

8. When Peter was so high in the air that he couldn’t breathe, Tony immediately deployed the iron spider to catch him and send him home

9. Peter was not happy being sent home and snuck onto the ship. When he made his presence known, Tony was mad at him for doing so because he did NOT want Peter there. “Yeah, right where I didn’t want you to be!” He scolded Peter because he cared about him. “This isn’t Coney Island or a fieldtrip, this is a one-way ticket, you hear me?!” He didn’t want Peter to get hurt because this is space! Tony always had a bad experience with space(as seen in ironman 3) and he didn’t want anything to happen to Peter. He didn’t want Peter to possibly be tormented with horrible memories like he did and have panic attacks. In the end, he made Peter an Avenger and just simply let him tag along.

10. When Peter was turning to dust, Tony immediately went over to him and was speechless when Peter became dust. You could see his face was so devastated and the amount of guilt he had.

11. When Tony came back to Earth, the first thing he said to Steve was “I lost the kid”. He blamed himself for losing Peter.

12. This is something we all know. When Tony was cleaning up and he happened to come across a picture of him and Peter. As he cleaned the photo, he thought back to what Scott and Steve said. Time travel. He thought of Peter and that if he managed to invent time travel, he would be able to see Peter again. And he did. He invented time travel for Peter.

13. Tony immediately hugged Peter when he saw him. He was so glad to see Peter again and hearing Peter ramble.

14. After he died, he entrusted Peter all of his security protocols and more. The glasses, Edith. Edith is stand for ‘Even Dead, I’m The Hero’. Peter literally had access to Tony’s Global Security Network. He still worried about Peter and wanted to take care of him even if he’s dead so he left Edith to Peter. He literally entrusted all of his weapons, security protocols and information to Peter in case he needed help for something beyond him. He trusted Peter with mostly or infact everything.

15. In my first post, I said Tony Stark literally had multiple designs of suits for Peter. He wanted to make Peter multiple suits as he believed he could make more improvements for Peter

16. If you remember in Iron Man 3, the iron legion was deployed and Rhodey wanted a suit but Tony said all of his suits were only coded to him. Even the suit Rhodey had was military upgraded. He didn’t give his best friend a suit but made a suit coded specifically for Peter.

17. When Peter was recording a vlog at the start of homecoming, he asked Tony to say a few words. Tony didn’t have to but he said a lot of positive comments about Peter. He was talking about how much of a good job he actually did in the fight. “Wanted to tell you of how much of a wonderful job your nephew did, this weekend, at the Stark’s Internship Retreat. Everyone was impressed” Peter face was in disbelief because Tony added more after what should’ve been enough.

18. He took Peter’s suit because not only was he angered that Peter made adjustments to the suit and did things behind his back, he didn’t want Peter to be in danger and repeat the same incident that happened earlier.

19. At the end of homecoming, he apologized and said “Actually turns out, it was the perfect tough-love moment that you needed right?” He was doing it out of paternal love and care for Peter. That’s why he took away the suit, simply because he didn’t want Peter to get himself in danger. He even offered Peter to be an Avenger and showed him the Iron Spider suit. A nano-tech suit for Peter, a suit that was as advanced as Tony’s nano-tech suit.

20. He looked away from the list of people that wast lost due to the blip when Peter’s face appeared, guilty that he was the reason Peter was gone.

21. He was so relieved and in disbelief when he saw Peter come out of the portal.

22. Tony always second guessed everything he did. But he did not second guess Peter. In the note he left Peter, it wrote “For the next Tony Stark” He believed Peter could be better than him and trusted Peter so much.

23. Everything Peter told Tony and every pop culture reference he said to Happy or Tony he remembers. Like when Peter made a plan based on a movie called Aliens. Or when Peter told Happy about the woman giving him a churro he remembers. Or when Nick Fury gave him something and he said “He said you won’t know what I’m talking about unless its a Star Wars reference” He literally remembered everything about Peter’s Star Wars references

Well this is simply what I gathered. Feel free to add more if I missed anything!

[fantasticalchaos]

Slay the Princess x Ever After High AU

Okay SO— I’ll be quite honest I saw this post thought “hey that kinda reminds me of Slay the Princess— WAIT A SEC”

And here we are! The Elaboration!

Note: the Voices will come in their own post. For now it will be just 3 characters… in a sense: The Narrator, the Princess, and the Player! Contains also my interpretations of the roles. ALSO SPOILERS!!!!!

The Narrator 🪶

As I said in my previous post: Headmaster Milton Grimm would be the Narrator. One reason is that those two give the most gaslighting, gatekeeping and girlbossing characters in their respective series! Not telling everyone the entire story; Keeping them under the wraps and expecting them to follow through with the story/mission. (Milton = Everyone following their prewritten destinies regardless of how horrific and unfair it is. STP Narrator = Follow through with slaying the Princess.)

Second reason is well… spoilerly!

Here’s the rundown for those who don’t know (and mind spoilers)

Originally, the Player/Hero and the Princess were abstract concepts that were once one being. One that is basically the cycle of life and death.

The Princess, who were forced to slay, is the Shifting Mound (aka Shifty for the fans). Shifty is the concept of change, and changes her form to whatever the Player perceives her to be.

Likewise, the Player/Hero is the Long Quiet. The Long Quiet represents stagnation, having everything be alive and remain in its current state. Something that Narrator considers his creation.

The Narrator fears death, which is contained within Shifty. She is not death, but it is contained within her; Death is a natural part of change and life. He also doesn’t like the amount of suffering and chaos that Shifty brings to both him and his world. So, he does everything in his power, and manages to rip apart the two from the cycle… at the cost of his life.

Thus, he trapped the two entities in Construct away from reality, with the Princess as the prisoner (ironically a route you can take with her) and you - the player - the task to finally slay her. In some cases, he’ll even try to take control of you to do complete his dream. Sounds familiar huh? Who else would try to take such drastic measures to ensure it all will work in their favour/plan?

The Princess 👑

The Princess/Shifty… It could be anyone! It’s your choice!

Me personally? My pick would be Raven! Outside of her being my fave, there is a reason why I pick her! Raven’s one of the major characters in the series that challenges destiny!

Both Shifty and Raven wanted to be free! Albeit for different reasons. For Raven, she just wants to be herself and live the way she wants that is not hexpectated from others. Shifty, on the other hand, wants to free herself from the cabin (after being trapped there for so long) and leave.

And while both have their own level of extremities, they will do what they can to reach their goal. (Raven refusing to sign the book, and do little things that are not fit for being the Evil Queen. Shifty… well, let’s say there’s more than how she looks.)

Raven is also a powerful sorcereress in her own right as well! In fact, eventually she gets to overcome the barrier to use her magic for good! Hell, she wasn’t even supposed to use her powers for good; It’s rebelling her role as the Evil Queen! And she only was able to access her magic for good again when she decided to… let’s say sneak up some forbidden books 😉

Also, the Princess is chained to the wall in the cabin when you first encounter her. Who else was chained in a way? Raven, in the reflection at end after taking a peek into her destiny. (Legacy Day)

Scenes that became a core memory for me fr fr number ♾️ (sorry couldn’t help it)

Alternatively, my other pick would be Cerise! Consider it? Cerise is half werewolf, and her parents deviated from the story by falling in love with each other! And they all have to keep it secret lest they get discovered and go poof! And that is dangerous, something that Milton would not approve at all! Again, another individual wayyy stronger than she looks! It’s quite ironic actually… considering her fairytale…

“You’re on a path in the woods. And on that path is a cabin. In that cabin, there is girl in bright red hood. You need to slay her. If you don’t, it will be the end of the world.”

The Player/Hero 🗡️

Again, another one that could be anyone!

For me, it’s Dexter. And, yes I will admit I ship Dexven but I have a legit reason for this lemme cook! Now, we and Dexter himself don’t know his destiny. As in, what his fairytale destiny is; Who and which Prince Charming Dexter is supposed to be. This could work, as the Narrator (Milton) would be giving Dexter his “destiny.”

“Dexter Charming, this is your destiny! Isn’t this what you’ve been wanting to know your entire life once upon a time?”

“Well yeah… but I’m not so sure about—”

“Then I have full faith in you in carrying out your destiny. It is rather important destiny. It is for the greater good for all fairytales”

“But slaying a princess?!? I can’t imagine pulling through that…”

And the conflict with what Dexter knows about being the hero and a Prince Charming???? Yes, he’s supposed to be prince/knight in shining armour and save the day! But slaying a princess to do it??? What??? He’s also taught to save princesses and damsels in distress, not slay them! What will he do?

Additionally, Dexter can also be the Voice of the Hero too! Speaking of which… I will do the Voices in a separate post *rubs hands together with my chef hat* c:

Before we end things here, I will say this:

You don’t have to choose these characters (especially for the Princess and the Player/Hero roles) as there are no wrong choices. No wrong answers. These are my interpretations, and you have your own! This is a love story (au) with any of your EAH ships - and have fun with it! 🤗

[save-the-villainous-cat]

HELLO THERE I LOVE YOU WRITING and I was gonna ask for Human Hero x Vampire Villain but SPICYY (in an universe where Vampires are very sensitive to people biting them) I’ve been thinking about this for a WHILE

Suggestive (spicy)

“So, you always moan in close combat?” The hero leaned against the doorframe with their shoulder lazily and it didn’t take long for their head to follow as well. They would’ve come across as bleary if their smile didn’t reflect their annoying confidence.

“Not necessarily,” the villain answered. They leaned back in their chair as their eyes undressed the hero mercilessly. In twenty-four hours, they’d bore themselves to death in a cell. Better use the time they got.

“Is it some kink or has it gotten something to do with your ridiculously big ego?”

The villain bit back a smirk.

“Certainly got something to do with other ridiculously big…things,” they said. The hero was visiting them for a reason right before they’d get imprisoned. Whether it was for information or torture or humiliation — the villain was here for it. Whenever, all the time.

“You’re filthy.”

“You started it.”

“Touché.” The hero tilted their head a little, as if they liked that the villain wasn’t giving in right away. “You moaned last week. When you pushed me against the wall and annoyed the living shit out of me.”

For some reason, the hero tolerated them, talked with them. The villain had learnt that…humans did everything in their power to avoid them. They knew they could be intimidating at times, especially their eyes which tended to be wide and provoke a deeply unsettling feeling in people. It didn’t help that the villain loved to stare at people, observe them. They supposed it gave them a little bit of an unhinged character.

However, right now, they relaxed and their eyes were half-lidded, nearly closed. Even though the hero didn’t seem bothered by their appearance, this conversation was way too lovely to lose it to some simple mistake.

“That’s correct,” they said, a tad amused.

“I bit you.”

“I’m impressed by your incredible memory. Given your intelligence quotient, I didn’t expect you out of all people to—” Without a warning, the hero tugged at their nemesis’ hair harshly, pulling it back to gain access to their throat which made the villain (involuntarily) take in a sharp breath.

“You moaned,” the hero said. They caressed the villain’s neck with their lips, pressing more against their voice box when they found it. Unwillingly, the villain’s eyes widened as they felt the hero so close to them. It took all of their self-control to keep their instincts at bay. Blood. If the hero’s throat was this close to them…

The hands in their hair grabbed harsher, as if to remind the villain to behave as the hero put more and more pressure into their unholy conquest. Opening their mouth, they finally kissed the villain’s skin, sucking only slightly, teasing them.

“Shit,” the villain cursed. “What the hell are you…?”

They closed their eyes, squeezing eyelids together as they realised what was about to happen. Without waiting, the hero opened their mouth more and more until their teeth scraped against the villain.

“Hey…woah, hey—” the villain managed but everything that followed was lost between moans and whimpers as the hero caught skin and muscle between their teeth and bit down gently. As if that wasn’t enough, they sucked gently and had the audacity to smirk.

It made the villain soft. They melted when desire took over, an instinct, a longing they couldn’t hold back any longer. They felt themselves blushing, felt how their pupils blew up and how they truly didn’t appreciate to be tied to the chair.

“No, please…” Their mind clouded and they imagined the fingers on their jaw moving down, imagined the lips going up. What it would feel like to ruin the hero right here, right now. God, they probably wouldn’t be able to do it. The hero had them in their hand, reducing them to a little puppet they could make jump whenever they pleased.

Slowly, the hero got rougher until it became unbearable to sit still and do nothing when this evil hero squeezed their throat a little too tantalisingly. For good measure — or to torture the villain even more — the hero licked over the bruised spot, leaving more saliva than they should have. Satisfied with the result, they hummed and pressed another kiss to it.

“You’re beautiful,” they said. Their grip in the villain’s hair loosened and both their hands found a way to frame the villain’s face. “Look at me.”

The villain realised they must’ve had slipped back into their insane stare but with the hero guiding them, they felt like it wasn’t that important.

Finally, the hero sat down on their lap, thighs around their hips. Hell, the villain couldn’t concentrate anymore, they already felt fucked out.

“Do you want…information…?” The villain was trying to remember how to breathe, overwhelmed with the sudden wave of pleasure.

“Want to tell you that you’re beautiful.” The hero pressed a soft kiss to their lips. Short. Innocent. It wasn’t enough.

“Please, don’t…”

“You’re beautiful.” The hero kissed them again. “So fucking beautiful.” And again. “My beautiful villain.”

The kisses got more passionate, deeper and desperate. As if the hero was searching for something. Whatever it was, the villain was willing to open themselves to them, be vulnerable and show them the most rotten part of them.

Ready to burn and be burnt. Whatever it was going to be, the villain wanted it, wanted more than that and couldn’t let go of the thought. When the hero’s tongue pushed against theirs, they wanted the hero to break their heart.

And when the hero left, they cursed themselves for thinking that any part of watching the person they loved leave could be tragically romantic.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Whumpuary Day 25-26 & 29-31

Prompts: Can’t stay awake | “You’re safe.”

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Drugging, Overdose, Allusions to past child abuse

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You shouted, keeping your eyes on Daryl while Tomi loudly rummaged through cabinets and drawers behind you. “Daryl. Daryl, stay awake.”

“M’tired.” The archer mumbled, eyelids heavy, breaths slowing before your eyes. 

“Tomi!” You snapped again. 

“They injected him with some sort of opioid. I need narcan.” Things were flying around, hitting the floor as the surgeon continued his frantic search. “How’s his breathing?”

“Too slow.” You shook Daryl again. Each time he responded, you felt a short lived relief but it never lasted long. “Daryl, stay with me. Look at me.”

“Y/N…tired…”

“I know but you can’t sleep.” Those normally sharp blues were dull, his pupils contracted to barely there black dots inside the pale cerulean. His eyes closed, head lolling forward. “Daryl? Daryl!” He inhaled sharply, giving you hope that he might regain a normal breathing pattern. 

He didn’t. 

“Can’t…can’t stay…”

“You have to. Just for a few more minutes okay?” You hadn’t seen when the man had used the syringe, only catching Daryl yanking it from his neck to angrily toss it aside before plunging his knife through the attacker’s skull. It wasn’t even a minute before the archer staggered back against the wall and slid down to where he still sat. “Tomi!” When Daryl’s eyes closed this time, he didn’t reopen them. 

“I’m trying!”

“Daryl!” His breaths were further and further apart, agonizing torture to know that one would eventually be his last. 

“If he stops breathing, you need to breathe for him.”

“Al-alright.” You could do that. You placed two fingers to his neck, counting the beats over and over, witnessing that number fall each time. “Please, please.”

“Got it!” Tomi dropped down beside the archer, foregoing any measure of sterilizing to just jab the needle into the muscle of Daryl’s bicep. 

“What now?”

“We wait. He never stopped breathing. The narcan should level him out enough to move him safely.” The nod you gave was curt and unbidden, your sole focus was the rise and fall of Daryl’s chest. “Okay. Okay, good. It’s picking up. I’ll get a stretcher. Keep watching his breathing.” Another nod. 

“Daryl, can you hear me?” Unresponsive. At least each breath was coming in at a slow, but steady pace. You could work with that for now. The wheels of the stretcher were loud in the otherwise empty hospital.

“Vitals are stable for now. I grabbed all the narcan but we need to have access to intubation supplies and IV fluids.” At your confused expression, he added, “I’ll need to insert a tube to help him breathe for a while if he struggles to on his own.”

You nodded calmly before the two of you struggled and fumbled to get Daryl onto the stretcher. Truthfully, the thought of Daryl needing a machine to keep breathing was horrifying. For that moment, you just continued to watch his chest, breaths remaining steady and unlabored. 

It took only moments for an IV to be inserted and fluids to begin running into the archer’s hand. His breathing slowed only once more and one last dose of narcan was administered. 

Hours later, Tomi concluded that Daryl was out of danger and would likely wake up at any moment. So you waited, instinctively listening for danger as employees returned to the hospital, the walkers having been cleared as well as the living threats, thanks in part to the man on the bed in front of you. 

You couldn’t wait to get him home and sleep for at least a day, snug against his side with your head over his heart, able to hear each beat and feel each breath. 

Finally, his fingers twitched in your hold, his head rolling back and forth on the pillow, face scrunching. 

“Daryl?” You stood, leaning over him. He hated hospitals. The memories of so many visits when he was a child, broken bones and open wounds at the hands of his father. You wanted to be the first person he saw and heard, in hopes of easing that anxiety. 

His eyes were clouded, tired and unfocused, when they finally landed on you. “Where ‘m I?” He slurred, still appearing to be exhausted and slightly influenced by the drug working its way through his system. 

“You’re in the hospital. You’re safe and you’re gonna be okay.” You squeezed his hand, smiling when he weakly reciprocated. 

“Tell me what happened?” His eyes were already trying to close, most likely without his permission but leaving him with no choice. 

“When you wake up. I’ll tell you everything when you wake up.”

Daryl hummed and inhaled deeply before settling into a peaceful sleep; one you didn’t fear and from which you knew he would wake. For now, though, you’d rest your head on the hand holding his and count his breaths like counting sheep until you joined him in blissful unawareness. 

[sapphicseasapphire]

Got any legend + ravio headcanons? It’s cool if not lol, just wondering :)

-memory anon

Legend and Ravio? Cryptid au or in general? Hmmmm let’s see!

So I just finished A Link Between Worlds for the first time in December! And it was really, REALLY good, just as I expected it would be! Now, I knew the story of Between Worlds and I knew the characters and everything but it was really fun to play it for myself!

First thing’s first, Ravio is Mer. However, the war that I talked about in a previous post had yet a different ending for Hyrule’s mirrored world. When Lorule’s Triforce was destroyed and its land was corrupted, the Aquili of the realm became corrupted as well. They became monsters, those that were on land, and quickly lost their senses. They attacked everything, not just the Mer, ruthlessly. In Lorule, the Mer lost, but the Aquili didn’t exactly win.

(Remember the Ku from Between Worlds? I’m thinking that instead of Zora, the Ku are Lorule’s Aquili. It’s probably a stretch and the only reason I really thought of it was because they attacked me in the water like a Zora would, and then when I left the water, they chased me and kept attacking me on land. And I just thought “haha like Wind.”)

ANYWAY.

Ravio is the only Mer in Lorule. As far as Legend knows, Ravio is the only Mer left at all. I must clarify that Legend doesn’t know who Ravio is until the very end, so he doesn’t know about hin being Mer, either. Legend’s very used to existing in places where nobody knows what he is, and he wasn’t expecting Lorule to be any different… er, well, they mostly interact in Hyrule anyway.

(This next part can be Cryptid au or just in general)

Ravio and Legend are in love and I don’t know if that’s problematic or not since they’re legitimately mirror copies of each other. HOWEVER. They’re adorable. I think that Ravio continues to call Legend “Mister Hero” while Legend calls him a “little rat.” Ravio is very loving and pretty intense. He never hides his affection, but he does like to tease. Legend is more reserved. He loves Ravio but he’s not very open about it. In his experience, the people that he loves are taken from him, so he tries to distance himself from Ravio. If you were to ask him, they’re just roommates.

If you were to ask Ravio, they’re already husbands.

I like to think that they buy a house together, one that’s a shop on the first floor and an actual house on top. Legend rolls his eyes when he hears Ravio’s voice downstairs, conning a merchant out of their hard earned rupees. For the Cryptid au, they live on the coast where they can access the ocean. In just general headcanons, they live near Kakariko where a bunch of people would be able to access Ravio’s wares.

THEY’RE BOYFRIENDS. And I love them.

I have more to say but I can’t quite organize my thoughts at the moment and this is already too long haha! I will definitely be making a post about Ravio and Hilda and Lorule in the lens of the Cryptid au, just give me some time to think on it some more haha!

[hismercytomyjustice]

HEAR ME OUT! IMHO (as someone who has it), Pacific Rim is a fantastic depiction of what it’s like living with OCD, specifically “Pure O” OCD.

It is exactly like “chasing the RABIT,” best depicted by the scene where Mako is trapped in her childhood memory.

SOME BACKGROUND ON OCD:

“Pure O” OCD is a term used to describe OCD where a person’s compulsions are mostly mental. Like getting stuck in thought loops as opposed to something like handwashing. You have a distressing/intrusive thought and your brain jumps through hoops to deal with the fear/anxiety/shame/etc that comes along with it.

From the ICBT (Inference-Based Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) model:

“A doubt is about a possibility - a thought about what 'could be' or 'might be'. Your symptoms of OCD begin with doubt. Consequences, distress and compulsions logically follow from the doubt. Without the doubt, you would remain firmly grounded in reality without any symptoms of OCD.”

Most folks get an intrusive thought and, while they might find it upsetting or out of character for them, they’re able to accept it as involuntary and more of a random brain blip. With OCD (and some other disorders), a person gets that same intrusive thought and fixates on it. They struggle to let it go, become emotionally tied to it, and experience shame and fear around it.

For example, say you have an intrusive thought of “I might have left the stove on.” Say you aren’t at home to check it. Someone without OCD might understandably worry about it, but maybe they can call a friend/family member to check or maybe they resolve to run by the house when they have a chance to make sure they turned it off.

Someone with OCD however, might spiral. They might go from “I might have left the stove on” to “What if there’s a towel on the stove?” to “the towel could catch on fire,” to “my kitchen could catch on fire,” to “my house could burn down,” to “I could lose everything in the fire,” to “and it would all be my fault.”

And with each mental leap, their anxiety/fear grows. They may not have even left the stove on, but they become convinced they did and now they’re panicking about the possible consequences of their theoretical actions. Their mind/body reacts like their house did burn down and it was all their fault.

Because this triggered such a strong emotional state, maybe next time they cook something they check the stove is off. But what if the knob wasn’t all the way in the off position? What if the burner was still hot and a towel was close by? What if they looked at the wrong knob and the one for the burner they used was actually on? So they check again. And again. And again. Because maybe if they check this time, they’ll finally have run through all the terrifying possibilities and their brain will accept that the stove is off and there’s no risk of a fire.

Meanwhile, by checking over and over again, they’re feeding into their fear and anxiety. It might make them feel better in the moment “oh good, the stove is off” but then they step away from the stove and the fear/doubt returns.

And then the cycle starts all over again the next time they use the stove.

HOW THIS PERTAINS TO PACIFIC RIM:

In Pacific Rim, Mako relives the worst moment of her entire life. She’s a child again and the kaiju is there, her parents are gone, and she’s terrified and running through the streets to try to save herself.

Raleigh realizes what’s happening. He’s a veteran jaeger pilot. He knows all about the RABIT (Random Access Brain Impulse Triggers). He knows what Mako is experiencing isn’t actually happening right now. He tries to pull her out of the spiral, but as she gets deeper into the memory, her emotions grow stronger. She KNOWS she’s not a child anymore. She KNOWS she’s in a jaeger. She KNOWS the kaiju of her past is dead and can’t hurt her anymore.

But none of that matters. She’s stuck in the spiral anyway.

In this case, the deeper she’s pulled down, the more evident her terror becomes because now her emotions are pouring into the jaeger. She doesn’t mean to, but she readies one of its weapons in her desperation to protect herself.

Pandemonium erupts. Everyone’s ordered to evacuate to minimize the inevitable damage the weapon will cause. No one can reach Mako. She’s too deep in the memory.

Even as others flee, Pentecost, Herc, Tendo, and Chuck struggle to manually shutdown power to the jaeger. They only manage it by the skin of their teeth because of how strong Mako’s connection to her memory is.

The memory is like an intrusive thought Mako can’t let go of, the anxiety and fear generated by it fueling her deeper descent into the memory. Everyone else knows it’s not real. Deep down, Mako knows it’s not real. But the emotions tied to the memory in that moment convince her otherwise. While Raleigh doesn’t get sucked into the memory too, we still see him reacting to it because it feels so real.

They finally manage to power down the jaeger and Mako escapes from the memory. In the aftermath she’s ashamed and embarrassed. Pentecost told her something like this might happen and it did.

Even worse, Mako’s always wanted the opportunity to avenge her family and put a stop to the destruction the kaiju have wrought on so many lives. She knew this could happen going in, but it happened anyway!

She relived the worst moment of her life, spectacularly failed in front of people she respects and cares about, nearly killed those same people, and she disappointed herself and Pentecost. She’s spent years trying to convince him to let her become a pilot and fuck, it turns out he was right all along, despite her training, her dedication, and her superior skills.

Now Raleigh is going to need a new partner. They don’t have time for this! The kaiju are coming! They’re humanity’s last hope! How can she face any of these people after almost accidentally killing them? Why couldn’t she stop chasing the RABIT? She knew it was just a memory! What is wrong with her that she couldn’t do this one thing she’s dreamed about and vied for her whole life? How can people like Chuck or Raleigh do this but she can’t?

Just because she’s no longer trapped in the memory, doesn’t mean it and the distress she experienced because of it haven’t had a ripple effect. Yeah, the ripples are less powerful now that she’s not in the epicenter of it all, but they’re still there.

BRINGING IT ALL TOGETHER:

The memory in Mako’s case is the trigger/intrusive thought. She has a visceral reaction to it in the moment, but even after she escapes from it she’s not automatically fine.

That’s what is so fucking frustrating about OCD. You can sit there all day and think “the stove isn’t on, this is just my OCD” but it doesn’t magically make your OCD go away. Learning to live with OCD is learning to identify these thoughts spirals and preventing lapses from becoming relapses.

A lapse could be “I might have left the stove on” and worrying briefly bit about it before realizing it’s an OCD thought and defusing it, but a relapse is the full blown anxiety trip detailed above that ends in “my house is going to burn down.”

Lapses are scary. It’s so easy to have one and immediately think “oh fuck, oh no, the OCD is back,” but it’s not necessarily true. You can get OCD into a state of remission, even if you can’t get rid of it completely. It’s also incredibly easy to beat yourself up over a lapse or a trigger. Yeah, in the moment you feel like you’re being chased by a kaiju, but then you snap out of the memory and you’re embarrassed and frustrated and scared.

“Why doesn’t anyone else struggle with this,” “what’s wrong with me,” “I didn’t even fucking leave the stove on,” “if anyone knew how upset I was about this, they’d think I was pathetic/stupid/overreacting/being ridiculous,” and so on.

OCD thrives on fear and doubt and shame. Avoiding intrusive thoughts makes it worse by increasing fear/anxiety around them and ruminating on intrusive thoughts makes it worse by further feeding into the obsession.

But the good news is your life doesn’t have to revolve around your OCD! There’s a lot out there that can help like support groups, therapy (specifically Exposure Therapy and Inference-Based CBT), and medications (like antidepressants).

Something that really stood out to me from the OCD Conference I attended this weekend was this quote from the Strategies for Sustained Recovery From OCD panel.

“OCD should not just be about symptom reduction, but about reclaiming your life and finding genuine joy and fulfillment. The primary reason to persevere through the hard work of treatment is to make your life more fun, meaningful, and worth living. Identify activities, hobbies, and relationships that you find deeply rewarding and that bring a sense of purpose beyond just managing your OCD.”

So, yeah, I just wanted to share what it’s like living with OCD and also wanted to give a little hope to others who might have it or have friends/loved ones who do. It fucking sucks, but if you equip yourself with the right tools it can make it a lot easier to live with. It can take most folks over a decade to get diagnosed with OCD and get proper treatment. There’s a lot of factors at play in that regard like recognizing OCD in the first place, access to care, costs for care, shame and embarrassment, etc.

Hell, it took me ~34 years to realize I had it and I was lucky enough to have three therapists tell me they saw the signs! I’m only just now starting to really learn about it, how it impacts my life, and how to live with it.

Just know you’re not alone and that it can get better! I’m definitely not in remission, but I’m working toward it! And I hope if you’ve read this far and resonate with all this, that you’re on your way to remission too!

[gulava]

Sora may have opened the door in KH1

This isn’t to say Riku didn’t do wrong in KH1. He did. But, as far as the door and Destiny Islands is concerned, I think we’ve been getting hints for 20 years that it was Sora and Riku just got blamed for it on top of what he DID do.

How did Riku leave the islands? He disappeared into darkness and woke up at Hollow Bastion. You’ll recall Alice Lidell did the same. A disappearing act, so to speak. Data Riku and Xehanort leave through a dark corridor as well.

In the film, Alice cried tears and floated into Wonderland. Water plus sadness equals DARKNESS, my friends. She never opened the door.

Whether KH2 First Visit Belle is a Riku or Sora parallel in this particular scene is in the eye of the beholder. She’s a Disney character in a relationship so she’s one of the characters that it switches depending on the circumstance to create a balance in the relationship that is Sora and Riku but...

The 3D scene in the dream had me very...curious as to what was going on because we didn’t see Ansem SOD in the original version and sleep holds our memories they say which is why Roxas was able to access Xion’s memories and tell Axel something only Xion would know. That he’d always be there to bring them back. I don’t want to imply Ansem SOD possessed Sora in this moment but it’s plausible since...they met earlier. It always came off as odd to me that Ansem SOD would even speak to Sora if he wasn’t about to use him.

YMX says that Ansem SOD possessed Riku and saw his experiences in real time which...okay, then why wasn’t he with Riku here...? He doesn’t follow Riku when he runs to the inlet. He doesn’t follow him in the dark corridor either. We don’t even see Ansem SOD again until Hollow Bastion way later on when we KNOW he actually does possess Riku. Riku doesn’t know him in the COM Novel when he meets him on the islands during Departure. HE DOESN’T KNOW HIM. Sora does. Isn’t that...suspicious? All Ansem SOD says is that the door will open soon and Riku goes off to find Sora. He doesn’t open a door!

He doesn’t remember Ansem SOD being there.

But he was following him.

Right before this scene, Data Riku states something very interesting after Data Sora accuses him of causing the bugs (the cause being Sora’s shadow). He says: “This world has been connected. Memory and reality now stand tied. It’s time for you to learn the truth.” Ansem the Wise states that data is a clue. The Datascape is shown again in Re:Mind to “remind” us that the future is already written and to go back and revisit the game known as Coded. But I recommend ALL the games on top of that so you can put the pieces together like I have. This is what Remy from Ratatouille was trying to tell Sora and co. about the fruit that he was gathering. (Essentially Nomura trying to hint to the audience that the answers are all THERE if you do enough digging.) He was trying to take the pieces and make it into a dish. In each game, therein lies another hint. Another piece of the puzzle. This is how I work out my theories. I treat each game as apart of each other without the assumption that nothing was planned. This is how Riku laughing like Namine did in COM WORKS even if it’s only finally shown in 3D and KH3. Writing evolves over time and so do characters.

“On the road ahead, more than one truth will come to light.”

What strikes me as even odd is that what they use to put Sora in a deeper sleep in 3D is things that happened back when the Islands fell but one of them wasn’t Riku holding out his hand or Kairi being swept away from darkness. It was something we never saw. It’s Ansem SOD coming up close to Sora while he’s either sitting or lying down. Perhaps...before he took a nap at the start of the game even. Hopefully, you’ve read my meta on how Replica Riku has some of Sora’s memories. Horrifying really as he’s used to play on Sora’s guilt as a way to get him further into the castle. But there’s one line in particular that bothered me to no end in the COM novel.

Ventus didn’t remember what happened to Strelitzia nor taking the book for himself. Baldr didn’t initially remember what happened to Hoder. It’s not that hard to grasp Sora might...not correctly remember a good chunk of things. Especially with how vaguely he describes his KH1 hurt in KH3. I imagine a person whose eyes cannot lie like Master of Masters...might educate him on the truth and it will probably be very ugly. My understanding is Sora’s true darkness will involve remembering. Yes, forgetting can hurt but knowing the truth will hurt you even more. I think remembering everything will be what breaks Sora. It certainly didn’t have a good reaction on Ventus or Baldr, now did it?

A very small bonus. Yuffie, a memorable “thief”, opens a door and hurts Donald in the process in the world right after the door opens and the darkness carries Kairi away so...there’s that. Sora is shown running through it also.

TLDR; check out the rest of this scene from KHUX below.

Alice is on trial for opening the door to Wonderland and she didn’t do it but is found guilty despite the lack of evidence against her. Hm...but how did Player get into Wonderland, I wonder? Ever consider that?

*glances at Sora*

[wormtitty]

Kinktober Days 18/19: Aftercare/Toys (Armand/Louis)

armand as rashid plug and play with a sprinkle of past dm

cw: armand experiences a bit of subdrop in the middle.

on AO3 here.

“What’s he taste like?” Louis gives voice to Daniel’s unspoken question. 

Armand startles. The plug inside of him shifts slightly, settles. He wrangles a telling tremble, pressing the useless gauze tighter to his jugular. Standing from his position at Louis’ side had been an unforeseen challenge, especially after he had just taken a significant amount of his blood, Daniel watching all the while.

“I didn’t ask that.” Oh, he had tried to feign disinterest, putting on an air of irritation as he had when Louis had fed from Damek. It was a shoddy attempt. Daniel kept glancing up at them from the diaries, filtering the sight of Louis at his neck through fluttering eyelashes. It was cute, this attempt to remain unaffected. If only he’d known exactly what he was witnessing, the layers to their performance. 

“You were thinking it.” Louis is energized from the blood, Armand can feel it buzzing under his skin. He wants to poke at Daniel, to see how far they can take the charade. He’s always had a preternatural ability to get under his skin and prod at the sorest part.  

Of course Armand had been in Daniel’s mind, skimming his thoughts. He just hadn’t realized Louis was doing the same. This is part of the game; knowing that the rules could change at any time, always keeping him on his toes. If he knew everything from the beginning, he’d break too early. Yes, it was better this way. The punishment was always sweeter. 

So Louis has access to both his mind and Daniel’s. When their thoughts stray in similar directions, he will know. Naturally, Armand has only granted permission to his most basic thoughts and emotions; his opinions on the present moment at most. He knows exactly what this game is doing to him. 

It was Louis’ idea in the first place, “Get yourself prepared, Rashid. You’ll be wearing this during tonight’s session,” he’d said, pulling out the large silver plug from the display. This was the heaviest they owned, one reserved for special occasions. It would take some time for Armand to fit it inside of him. “You’re to meet me at the table for lunch. I’ve had the staff prepare something hearty for our boy. I expect you’ll make it nice for me, as well.” 

“Louis, I-” 

“And that you’ll be able to control yourself, Rashid.” Emphasis on the name. Armand swallowed, eyes lowered to his chin.

“Yes, Mr. du Lac.” The formality tasted strange on his tongue, unused to anything other than Louis or Maître.

“Keep your composure,” was all he said before he left the room with a nod.

It took Armand the better part of an hour to prepare himself in the bathroom, lubricant dripping from his hand to the stone flooring. The plug slid in easily, a cool, heavy weight in his core. His hands only shook marginally as he wiped everything clean, determined to stay present in his role as worshipful and upholding employee. 

The plug settled inside of him, Armand trailed into the dining room and sat gingerly in the chair reserved for him at Louis’ side. 

It was a constant pressure, keeping him upright, bowstring-tight when the rest of his body wanted to melt into Louis. He wasn’t used to performing in front of an audience. Armand always took more of a director role when a third participant managed to endear themselves enough to make it into one of their games. But this was Daniel and he was different and special to them both in too many ways to mention - memories tucked away and kept safe in only Armand’s head.

A fresh wave of heat pooled in his belly at every pull from his veins. Yes, this was right, to have his Louis at his throat and his Daniel in his mind. 

He felt the burn of judgemental eyes on him. But he had no idea. They too had played like this before, he and Daniel. Armand had once stuffed him full before bundling him up against the cold as they walked to catch a midnight showing of the new Ridley Scott film. He hadn’t made it through the opening credits before Armand was forced to crawl over the seats and work him dry, stopping time for all those in the cinema because Daniel couldn’t keep quiet. 

“Stay out of my head,” he demands. He doesn’t know of what he asks. Armand lingers in the corners of his mind, comforted by its familiarity. Suspicious as he is of Rashid, he’s forgotten to be hostile towards Armand. They feel warm, Daniel’s thoughts of him, filtered through a film of self-conscious lust. 

Louis makes up something about him tasting like honey and pineapple. Though, it could be true. Armand does not remember the taste of the fruits he gorged himself on before while he was still mortal. To him, his own blood tastes only of recycled iron, stale on his tongue, grounding when he needed it.

Offering it to Daniel was unexpected. Armand’s entire being tightens up, the plug tugging at his rim, sending a shocky shiver down his spine. His body feels cold all over, mind at war with the plug inside of him. 

This has never been part of the game, he was never donated with Louis. They don’t do this, he doesn’t do this. 

He knows Daniel’s considering it, imagining the sweet taste of his blood, a red hot slide down his throat. Is the offer right from the source? he thinks, a phantom memory of lips on cool skin, liquid pooling in his mouth as he gulps ravenously. Armand hates that he wants it too, despises the flush of his blood rising to the surface, unbidden and unasked for. 

It will not happen, he won’t allow it, would sacrifice his cover and this little secret they’re keeping from Daniel just to keep Louis from donating his body and his blood, no matter how terribly he desires it. 

“I’ll wait till Damek comes around again. I’m a savory man most days.” Daniel lies, the arguably false statement turning Louis’ offer down. Armand breathes out an imperceptible sigh of relief.

“I care for him more than he cares for himself.” He’s still thrown off, unsteady and unsure of his place in this conversation. Louis has an oddly familiar look in his eyes, half mean and half playful, usually reserved for when the two of them are alone. It’s disarming, to see this expression directed at Daniel. “And I wouldn’t let you near my neck if you were -” he’s cut off. Just as well. He was about to say something damning.

His weight. Of course Louis knows the exact number, has thrown him around too often not to know exactly how much he weighs. Daniel, clueless, idiotic, and infuriating, wants to know what he would feel like, has some perverted desire to pull Rashid onto his lap. He’s wondering if his ass is bony. 

He’d said so himself, forty years ago at a christmas party thrown by his agent. Though now he has no recollection of such experience. 

“Stay out of my head.” Daniel reiterates, weary. The strain of two vampires invading his mind is fatiguing him. Armand retreats. 

Without the distraction of Daniel’s mind, he’s thrown back into his body. He aches all over. Louis hadn’t taken enough blood to do any harm, just enough for him to feel it, heart pumping half a beat slower in his chest. The plug sits secure and heavy. He feels so full, and suddenly he hates it, wants all attention off of him and the thing inside of him out.

“Sleep, pray, eat, pray, swim, pray, et cetera.” Louis drones on, words a cutting bite into his flesh. “On days he’s a plump one thirty nine, I  believe he swims twice. Metronomic, my Rashid.” It stings. As if he wasn’t changing everything just to have the boy here for this interview.

Daniel puts his glasses on, realizes his cup is empty. He pushes it across the table to him, demanding a refill. Armand collects his tablet. Leaves the cup on the table. 

The plug shifts inside of him with every step. He doesn’t have to fake the weakness in his gait. Rashid, he thinks, would stop in the kitchen, or at least collect other staff to tend to Daniel. Armand retreats directly to the bedroom, lays himself facedown on the bed, legs tucked up to his chest. He spares a thimble of energy to call the staff to the dining room, then forces his mind carefully blank. 

There’s an ache deep in his chest, sore and empty where his body is full and aching. This is not a comfortable position to hold with a foreign object resting snugly in his hole, keeping him stretched wide. Armand wants to take it out, and knows he can’t. That’s the way this works; Louis decides when he’s had enough, and he’s currently preoccupied with - he reaches out his mind to the ongoing session in the dining room: Claudia, the bodies, the police. Armand waits, and listens.

They call for a break. Daniel needs to stretch his legs. Louis instructs the staff to prepare a digestif.

Footsteps echo down the hall as he approaches. Louis’ mind, spiky at the edges, softens when he sees Armand on the bed. His hands are gentle as they stroke at his ass, squeezing slightly in appreciation. 

“Waiting so nice for me, Rashid.” Bloodwarm fingers slip under the waistband of his pants, pulling them down to rest just under the curve of his cheeks. A whimper slips out from his lips when the movement brushes against the base of the plug. 

“Shhhh, shhh, it’s alright.” Louis soothes, bending over the bed to get a better look at his face. Something in his eyes must alert him to it; he’s not Rashid in this moment, but he’s not entirely Armand either. Louis takes it in stride, saying “Arun, you did well.”

“Maître,” he warbles, overwhelmed. This is good, it’s better, when he’s not expected to do anything other than take what he’s given. His maître will look after him.

“Gonna take it out now, okay?” The plug pops out smoothly, and for one horrible moment, he’s empty. All he’d wanted moments ago was for it to be gone, but where he once was full is now what feels like a gaping chasm and it’s so much worse. A sob wracks free from deep in his chest and he shifts back into the warmth of Louis behind him. 

Three fingers fill him up again, curling up right where he wants them, and then he’s crying in earnest. Louis fucks him slow and steady, little rocking motions that tease out tiny whimpers and gasps. The simmering heat in his belly reaches its boiling point.

“Maître,  it’s so - I’m going to -” he calls out in warning, unsure if he is allowed to take this pleasure.

“You can if you want to, it’s alright.” Louis assures him, and it’s all he needed for the orgasm to rip through him, waves and waves of it throbbing from deep inside. Armand’s vision blacks out, body going limp. 

When he comes to, Louis is petting through his hair and stroking down his back soothingly, hands clean and warm. He arches into the touch, humming out a pained little sound and moving his body from its cramped position after so long. 

“I know that was a lot, it’s alright.” Louis rubs at his shoulders, the heavy pressure of it grounding. “You with me, Armand?” 

Armand nods, rubbing his tear-stained face into the bedclothes. “Gonna need some words from you, love.”

“Yes, I’m -” he croaks, cringing at the roughness of his own voice. He wets his lips and blinks up at Louis, wiping the spill of red from his eyes, “Thank you.” 

Louis squeezes one shoulder, plants a lingering kiss to his forehead. Armand closes his eyes against the affection and reaches out with his mind, needy all over again. 

Louis’ is elsewhere. Ah. The boy has returned from his walk.

[uefb]

Hey, so I just watched the third Fantastic Beasts movie and I was wondering if you noticed any autistic traits of Newt's in that one? I remember spotting so many in the first two, so I was kind of disappointed that I wasn't able to find anything new this time. (Honestly, it felt like there wasn't much character exploration at all with Newt, except maybe at the very end?)

Hi, beanwood! Thanks for the ask. It’s interesting you noticed this! Because I will admit that I noticed less of Newt’s autistic qualities in the 3rd film myself (though I did notice some!). I think there are a number of reasons for this decrease — in fact, it is something @afrenchaugurey and I have discussed quite a few times actually! I’ll go into that later. First I’ll share what I did notice (from memory), when viewing Newt through an autistic lens as an autistic & neurodivergent person watching Secrets of Dumbledore (SOD/FB3).

(I’d like to apologise in advance for some language that might not be fully autistic-affirming moving forward. While I am autistic myself, I am also a researcher in fields that have traditionally pathologised autistic traits, and my language unintentionally reflects my training on occasion. Unfortunately, I currently do not have the spoons to go through and ensure that everything sounds appropriate. I therefore appreciate your understanding and patience.)

Anyway, while I agree with you that there are less autistic traits than in previous films, below are some arguably autistic traits or co-occurring indicators (based on my own experience and knowledge of clinical & empirical research) that I noticed! (Though these are not exactly new, which is what you may have been hoping for.)

Newt does stim quite a bit in the SOD/FB3, though it is subtle, mostly relegated to his coat pockets and consistent but very slight rocking/fidgeting/re-adjusting. You can see a rather crappy TikTok video (as I wasn’t doing edits on my computer yet) I made a few years ago (on an acct that is no longer active) highlighting Newt’s exceptionally subtle stimming in the first hour of FB3 here.

Newt continues to avoid eye contact during both one-on-one interactions and when addressing groups.

Newt does not always seem to notice subtle emotional nuances or jokes in group settings.

Newt seems, reasonably, attached to his case when Bunty takes it from him, even wordlessly asking Dumbeldore about it with a hand motion at one point. This could be interpreted as his case being a fixture of routine or comfort, common in autistic folks.

Newt’s flat affect, in this film, seems to be somewhat of a a boon to interacting with high-profile officials, as he seems somewhat unbothered by the high stakes of the situations and the potential social & political risks of simply walking up to — say — Herr Vogel, for example.

Additionally — regarding special interest — his hyperfocus on his creatures while talking with Theseus’ jailer in the Erkstag seems out-of-step with what one might expect from someone about to walk into a pseudo-authoritarian prison setting.

When Newt finds Theseus in the Erkstag, he answers Theseus’ questions about the creature situation by somewhat info-dumping about a laboratory experiment he’d conducted on creature behaviour to explain his reasoning. He seems not to entirely notice that that response probably wasn’t that reassuring to Theseus at all.

Newt does not reciprocate social interactions on several occasions — he misses his brother Theseus’ social cues in the first big group scene; he does not verbally reply to several characters in the films (such as Herr Vogel’s assistant), even when such reciprocal communication (or even basic serve & return) might be expected.

Newt does seem to lose some access to speech under extreme pressure during his back-and-forth with grindelwald about the Qilin twins. (This is reflected more in Redmayne’s performance than the script, IIRC.) While this is typical for many people, it harkens to newt’s earlier characterisations.

Newt utterly misses the loaded communication from Bunty while he has his case open toward the end of the film in Bhutan (when Tina’s picture is visible). Then, Bunty says something in response to Newt saying you don’t know what you have until it’s gone (referring to his case), which was apparently in reference to her own crush on Newt (now that Newt is pretty obviously with Tina). Newt did not seem to clock this comment as anything at all. (…..and, frankly, neither did I. I had to ask my wife to explicitly explain the scene to me after my 4th or so rewatch. I remain clueless and it is lucky I am married, given my utter inability to read romantic nuance.)

So yeah, I agree with you that the last film demonstrates fewer autistic traits consistent with Newt’s behaviour in the first 2 films, apart from those marked final scenes (Tina/newt, newt & dumbledore.) One could argue that the noticeable behaviour in the scene between Tina & Newt outside the bakery is due to either (a) the removal of Newt from a high-stress, goal-focused heist situation into a more intimate personal situation combined with (b) social anxiety manifesting around people he cares deeply about (particularly given his history of miscommunication with Tina), or social anxiety around romantic situations in general. It’s also possible that (c) a heightened sensitivity to physiological cues associated with anxiety or ‘butterflies,’ due to sensory sensitivity affects his behaviour in the Newtina scene — physiological stress (in my anecdotal, personal experience) can make one flustered or struggle with speech, as attention is repeatedly and emphatically and uncomfortably drawn elsewhere in the body. (Or it could be something ENTIRELY different, like a script rewrite or massive editing that jettisoned consistent character development.) But, whatever the case — yes, I agree Newt seems most…. Well… Newt! in his interactions with Tina and Dumbledore at the end of the film.

(Though if you haven’t seen the missing scene of Theseus & Newt between Newt leaving China and Theseus & Newt going to Hogsmeade… That’s rather a treasure trove of autistic-coded Newt, imho!! You can watch it here.)

As for the reasons why this change may have happened… I believe there are a few possibilities…

Personally, I think the fact that Secrets of Dumbledore (SoD/FB3) is structured more like a “heist” film than the earlier FB films plays a big role in that — character development was secondary to plot (which was, admittedly, a bit convoluted).

From an out-of-world (e.g., non-character, non-plot, non-worldbuilding perspective), I think it’s quite possible that Warner Brothers & co. were trying to appeal to as broad an audience as possible. I say this for a few reasons… (a) reactions to Newt as a character back in 2016 and 2018 were as polarised as you would expect for an autistic-coded main character in a mainstream action/adventure series. This might have inspired a shift in characterisation in FB3. Additionally, (b) by 2022, FB3—according to Warner Bro.—needed to be a box office hit. It was affected by Covid filming issues, JKR’s continued inane & controversial comments, actor drama & controversy, and generally non-HP level earnings at the box office for Crimes of Grindelwald/FB2…. Messy! Producers might have thought a less socially awkward/autistic Newt would make it more palatable. I haven’t seen any evidence of producers’ defending newt’s characterisation since the FB2 era. But who knows. This is all guesswork.

However, from an in-universe perspective, some time has passed since CoG/FB2. Based on Lally’s comments in Jacob’s bakery at the beginning of the film, approximately 1 year has passed (1927/8ish?). According to the screenplay, 5 years have passed (1932). (I tend to align myself with the 1932 timeline, due to subtle historical indicators; my own beliefs about Tina & Newt’s different characterisations in FB3; and the lack of lasting impact Leta’s death seems to have on Theseus & Newt by the time FB3 rolls around.) Anyway. I mention the time skip because I think it’s possible that a time skip allows for Newt’s character to minorly shift in a few ways…. (a) It allows Newt to settle into his confidence as a respected magizoologist, as well as gain distance from (i) World War 1 and (ii) young adulthood insecurities — trauma, anxiety, and diminished sense of self and belonging can exacerbate traits of neurodivergence. (b) A time skip additionally — (theoretically) — allows for Newt to become more comfortable with people like Jacob, Theseus, Dumbledore etc. (and for them to become more used to him!), potentially further diminishing Newt’s anxiety or certain autistic traits. Because autistic traits like stimming, for example, often correlate with higher levels of social stress or attempts to manage uncontrollable situations in controllable ways, Newt may rely less on these self-soothing methods because there is frankly less of a need. Conversely…

Newt might also be more self-aware by FB3. He’s in his 30s by now. It’s possible that he’s masking his autistic traits during the middle of the film due to the political environment and high stakes situation in which he is functioning.

Anyway! Long story short, those are my thoughts!!!!! (Hope you actually wanted them, because you tapped into UEFB special interest, infodump mode.) I’m sure there’s more to be said, but that’s all my old brain can do for now. Thanks for the ask, beanwood, and I hope you are well!

Finally, I’m curious: What inspired you to ask me this in particular? Was it my utter flooding of the #autisticNewtScamander tag over the past few years? A particular post? My fics? Byyye.