#i Have gone and interpreted this as ''which ones are something you'd like to wear''

[i-am-just-a-skeleton]

which of freddies iconic outifts would you most like to own

uhhhhh *trying to remember which ones are the really iconic ones and which are random things that i've just fixated on really hard*

- live aid outfit is very cool

- the uh. this

yea. also the black leotard with the sparkles on the shoulder which i apparently don't have a picture of saved

- the leather pants + suspenders with no shirt. i'm literally insane about this like hello???

[adiluv-moved]

❥ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄 + 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐋 𝐇𝐂𝐒. ˚⊹꒷

🎤୧・꒰word count꒱ 1154.

💿୧・꒰warnings꒱ yandere character ꒰implied stalking, obsessive/possessive behavior꒱, idol/modern au, reader is not traveler, reader is from sumeru, intentional lowercase, not edited.

🎧୧・꒰adi moment꒱ inspired by this ask! i'm literally such a big fan of yandere idol scara there is so much untapped potential here that i think we need to start looking at!! hope you enjoy!! ໒꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀི১

as a disclaimer, i don't support yandere behavior in real life! please don’t interpret this post as justification for any of scaramouche's actions.

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who's the sixth of the twelve harbingers, a snezhnayan-based idol group that's recently gone viral and taken teyvat by storm. with members hailing from all seven nations, you'd instantaneously deem the inazuman native your favorite—something about his more blunt and bratty personality catching your attention. with plenty of releases and tons of merch drops, you'd find most of your income going to posters, albums, photocards, and apparel—an easily noticeable focus on scaramouche themed items taking hold early within your collection.

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who meets you while lost in sumeru city, having decided to take a vacation after the success of his latest tour within liyue. delays with transportation had caused him to show up late for his hotel reservation, leaving him stranded in the foreign city without anywhere to stay... which is precisely where you come in. even with the large amount of mora you'd dedicated towards supporting the group, concerts were far out of your budget—tickets being sold out mere minutes after dropping. so when you'd met your bias sitting on a staircase with a suitcase beside him, you'd been quick to offer him shelter within your apartment, leading the man back to your place and opting to sleep on the couch and give him your bed.

꒰💀꒱・it's this trusting nature of yours that initially causes him to consider you the biggest idiot in teyvat, with scaramouche contenting himself to make good use of the amenities you've oh so graciously provided. he's given free access to all of your belongings for hours on end whenever you go to work—given more than enough freedom as you slave over your stove to cook dinner once you finally return. really, you're lucky he's the real deal, he thinks, because it would be stupidly easy for him to just rob you one day and run off. ꒰not like anybody would believe he robbed you, either.꒱ ...but he has no need for your pitiful belongings, and he'd feel like a real asshole to do such a thing, so he leaves them be.

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who, despite his first impressions, finds himself growing fonder and fonder of you as time goes on. you're an utter klutz, lacking common sense and self-preservation skills—however. you're caring. kind. you take him sightseeing on your days off and offer to pay for the things he buys, even though he currently has more mora than you'd ever obtain within your lifetime. while a superfan with his merch lining the walls, you see past the persona he wears on stage—see the real him and make an effort to know him. you treat him like an equal, unlike everybody he'd encountered after becoming an idol.

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who begins missing you after returning to snezhnaya, borderline regretful that he hadn't entertained his idle thoughts and taken something from your apartment as a reminder of your hospitality. he's never felt this way about a fan ꒰let alone anybody else within his life꒱ this way before—wanting nothing more than to cast away his duties and seek you out once again. the first night back in his home is spent as an all-nighter, detective-esq determination while he searches instagram for your profile and nearly jumps out of his bed once he finally locates it. of course, you accept his request, and he takes great joy in scrolling through your posts and unashamedly liking all of them. not like you'd even mind, anyway. your followers list is, in the same manner, put up for examination—though he doesn't exactly want to tell you about that.

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who stalks your spotify almost every day, listening to all of your playlists and taking notes on the various musicians that pop up. immature as it is, it's difficult to stop the searing jealousy that threatens to pop up whenever other idol groups pop up a little too often for his tastes, a sour taste left in his mouth as he attempts to convince himself that the harbingers ꒰him, specifically꒱ are still your favorites. although he publicly claims that he has no need for rivalries with other groups, there's just something inherently satisfying about seeing one of his tracks beating those of the other groups on your playlist, silent hopes that you'd also prefer it over theirs. 

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who begins sending you gifts once his obsession really takes hold. whether it be money, merch, or the random items on your avidyazon wish list, expect to see a lot of packages arriving at your doorstep—all with notes from scaramouche commenting on whatever's inside the box. receiving tickets to any and all harbinger concerts also becomes a common occurrence, transportation to the other nations paid in full. while touring in inazuma, he does the honors of sending you a kimono alongside front-row tickets, practically ordering you to wear it and saying he's excited to see just how amazing you'll look in it. you're so preoccupied by the gesture that you don't even think to ask when he got your measurements. 

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who takes you backstage after each and every one of his performances, having his bodyguard escort you to his personal dressing room. although he asks you to tell him about any significant events within your life, he almost never seems to be shocked by any of them—instead giving you an almost knowing look... as though he already had the information. not to mention that anybody bothering you almost always stops after mentioning your discomfort to him. a part of you wonders whether he does anything to interfere, but it seems near impossible considering his busy schedule and the fact that he's miles away from you in another nation. must just be a crazy coincidence, right..?

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who demands your attention at every moment within these meetings, growing insanely agitated if you so much as attempt to talk about the other harbingers—especially il dottore. attempts to figure out why he hates the senior member so much are outright ignored, scaramouche instead opting to quickly silence you by either pinching your lips together or boldly kissing you ꒰if he's feeling particularly jealous, that is꒱. "you shouldn't even think about other men in my presence," he'll say, "let alone dottore." and because you don't want to upset your idol, you simply nod your head and change the subject.

꒰💀꒱・yandere idol scaramouche who would've asked you to be his partner by now, if not for the many scandals that would erupt from such a request. he's aware that some of his fans obsess over him in the same way he does you, and he'd hate to place you into any dangerous situations because of his greed. don't get him wrong, though. you still aren't allowed to date anybody else, a fact that he'll remind you off right before he sends you on your way. things may not be official, sure—but you still belong to him.

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

[junipers-archive]

Hiii, love your work. I'm asking if maybe there could be a Part 2 or something about this: https://www.tumblr.com/junipers-archive/715380966834782208/spencer-reid-x-baureader-pining-over-each-other?source=share

Maybe they confess and start secretly dating? I don't know just would really like to see more of it bc its really cute.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚✧ CONFESSIONS --> (word count: 1.1k)

❥ heyy thank you sm!! And yes ofc ofc❥ (It's not necessary to read part 1 but it adds to the story if you do!!)

❥ You and Spencer have been pining over each other for ages, everyone at the bau sees it and you finally get the nerve to bring it up!! Results in confession and hints towards secret dating :)

It had only been week since the last case, when your co-workers not-so-subtly hinted towards Spencer returning your feelings. And despite yourself you couldn't get it out of your head. As of right now you were seated next to him in one of the black SUVs, picking your nails nervously and attempting to avoid eye contact.

You tried to look at your phone, but then it'd look like you were careless, then out the window but then you might look sad, and in the end you couldn't take your eyes off him.

He was driving so it gave you more wiggle room to glance every now and then, he was wearing a light purple dress shirt accompanied by one of his few but favorite ties, the light was hitting his hair so that his locks looked close to blonde.

You don't realize you've been 'glancing' too long until he speaks,

"Did I do something?"

Sputtering you try to answer, "I-What?"

He scrunches his eyebrows, puckering his lips like a genius who'd been stumped. And to be truthful he was, you'd been avoiding him non-stop all of this week, leaving him with only awkward greetings and little to no interactions. He missed you.

And when he'd gone to the other team members to ask about it they only gave him vague answers, Derek said you were just frustrated, Emily had only smiled knowingly, Penelope had giggled like she knew something and Rossi had told him to talk to you. Overall it'd seemed like everyone was in on a joke that he wasn't apart of.

He swallows before answering, only furthering your already distracted ogling as his adam's apple bops up and down.

"You've been distant, I just, when people are upset with me they tend to tell me what I've done! A-And I totally understand if I need to apologize for something, but can you at least tell me what for?"

You tilt your head giving him a view of the expanse of soft supple skin of your neck, which he tries his best not to stare at.

"I just...do you like anyone?" It seemed childish to ask but you were curious, at least the way you were asking could be interpreted as a friend-ly.

He freezes when you ask though, a million questions running through his mind. Did you know?Who had told you? Was he that obvious?

"I-no?" he wasn't lying, what he felt for you was beyond liking, it was something much deeper that he felt every time he set his eyes on you.

"No?" You shoulders slump, if he liked someone maybe you had hope, if he liked anyone it would've made your day.

"Do-Do you like someone?" His heart clenches at the thought of you even looking at someone else.

"Yea, yea I more than like someone alright." you grumble.

"oh." its all he can muster up, his brain in short-circuiting.

"I think he knows me better than I know myself to be honest." this was the closest you were ever going to get to a confession, might as well take advantage of his obliviousness.

"He's a gentleman, sweet, kind, he knows everything about me really and he's got these eyes, I swear I could get lost in them and I feel like myself around him..."

To your surprise as you're speaking he pulls over, his hands are clenched around the wheel and he looks...angry?

Once he's stops the car he begins to ramble just as you had, with the acception of a few more hand gestures.

"You can't like someone else. I'm the one that gets you your coffee every morning, I'm the one who knows you're allergic to specific flowers, knows that carry a book with you everywhere you go, that you can't go a day without dessert, that you'd rather stay in then go out, I know you Y/n. I know you better than anyone! Who could possibly know you better than I do?!"

Your eyes are wide, taking in everything he's said, because he's right, you were best friends before you were anything else. Nobody knows you better than him.

"You, I like you Spence." Its a quiet confession, one that you thought you would've said more confidently in retrospect and it takes a minute for him to process but he gets it eventually.

"Oh. But- but you said that- I thought- you-you like me?"

The grin on his face makes butterflies swarm in the pits of your stomach, "I was talking about you, genius. And I more thank like you."

"Yeah?" He questions, even though he's gotten his answer he likes to hear you say it, likes to hear the words leave your beautiful lips and enter his ears like music.

You role your eyes playfully, "Yeah...dummy." Your head is now ducked bashfully.

He feels like he's in a dream, a wonderful, amazing, and ethereal dream. "Would you- I mean you don't have to say yes- but- um-I was thinking maybe you- and I- together I mean-could-"

"Yes." When you get the jist of the question you answer immediately, you've known the answer to that question since the day you met him.

You're both grinning like idiots when he finally starts the car again, managing amazingly he notices not to swerve off course every time he glances at you too long. You talk about how the team wasn't a big help to either of you, swapping stories about the ways they would tease.

In a try to keep the conversation going he asks, "Should- we- um tell the team?" He still can't believe you more-than-like him, or that you agreed to a date, he feels energized, elated, and like he's won.

You're trying not to jump up and down or come off too happy, catching his gaze every now when you look at him and he's already looking at you, only worsening your growing cheerfulness.

"Nah, let them have a taste of their own medicine, lets just enjoy being together, we are together, right?"

He's turned red at your assumption, probably jumping far to quickly to answer, "Yes! I mean- yea, yea we're together."

"That's nice!" You also reply far too quickly, which ultimately gives you both hope, if the two of you were this whipped for one another then you must be meant for each other.

[melminli]

fuck santa

summery - satoru is weird about wearing a santa costume

contains: fem reader, suggestive joking, satoru x reader, satoru being annoying, fluff/crack

"satoru!" you called out his name as you continued to scroll through pinterest, looking at more inspiration for your great idea. "come here for a second!" you added when he didn't show up right away. you had to get this off your chest before you exploded or something.

"i'm right here. calm down." he said and sat down next to you on the couch, so close that your thighs were touching. sometimes you wondered why you had such a big couch in the first place if he always had to cling to you like that. well, it was cute - most of the time. unfortunately, not only was satoru's look pretty hot, but his body temperature was too, which became a problem. especially when you two were sleeping at night because you'd wake up in the morning drenched in sweat from his grip on you.

sometimes, it felt like dying, but you weren't allowed to say that anymore since it hurt his feelings. so you suffered in silence and just kept the window open at night. you didn't want to imagine how you would survive the summer without a cold breeze coming through.

oh, so my affection for you is that bad that you compare it to death?

you didn't want to lie. not verbally, at least, so you just shook your head. the answer he got from that was his own interpretation anyway.

"i'm not going to ask why you took so long in the bathroom because we both know your lactose intolerant ass was destroying that cheesecake in the fridge last night." you said, interrupting him with your index finger in the air as he tried to defend himself. "and don't try to gaslight me and say you only wanted to nibble a bit on it or some shit. i was there when you saw it and trust me i know that look."

also the cake was literally gone, so.

satoru pouted as he cuddled up to your side. "is that why you called me here? to finish me off?" he gazed up at you with puppy eyes. "my stomach's been killing me since six in the morning. the last thing i need is for my girlfriend to join my demise."

you ignored his bawling. "no, i called you here to talk to you about christmas dinner with the others." you said, looking a little disappointed when you saw the confused look on his face. "the christmas dinner? the one we are hosting this year?"

"right." satoru said, vaguely remembering something. "i thought we were going to suguru for christmas?"

"no. he and everyone else are coming to us. where were you when i explained to you all that stuff?"

he tried to remember something like that, but nothing came to mind. "i'm sorry, i don't seem to have been listening when you did." he admitted, but it still seemed a little unlikely to him. he always listened when you told him something. it was also unlikely that he forgot something like that. oh. "or did you just forget to tell me?"

"hmm." you hesitated to answer him. "no, i don't think so."

sure.

"whatever, i was thinking about you dressing up as santa this year. i've already ordered the costume." you said as if that went without saying. "i didn't buy a wig because, well..." you said, pointing to his head. "...thought it would be unnecessary."

satoru ran a hand through his white hair at what you said. "why do i have to dress up as santa anyway? aren't we all adults?" he asked, a little disappointed. he actually thought the idea itself was great. what he didn't like so much was that he was the one who had to dress up.

well, he didn't really mind dressing up as santa that much, but he wanted to look professional when the others were visiting and show off a bit, and the costume would kinda ruin his performance a bit. he didn't think the others would take him seriously in one. they barely did it as it was.

you just shrugged your shoulders. "i don't know, i just thought it would fit the vibe and would be kinda cute, you know?" you answered casually before getting serious again. "so, do you think you can let your beard grow until then?" you asked him, remembering that you'd never actually seen him with one before. "can you even grow a beard?"

"okay, now you're just bullying me." satoru said, offended. "of course i can. the real question is whether i want to." he announced cockily before bursting your bubble. "and i don't."

you sighed in disappointment. "come on, don't be like that. you'll look cute." you begged him and were now the one who snuggled up to him. "besides, you'd literally be the star of the evening. wouldn't you like that?"

satoru looked at you out of the corner of his eye. of course, he would like to be in the spotlight. though, he also liked the attention you were giving him right now. he also didn't want to give in so quickly, which is why he focused on your first statement. "you think santa is cute? that's pretty weird. now i think you just want to get me into some weird kink shit and you won't get my consent for that."

you punched him on the shoulder in offense at his stupid joke. "stop twisting my words. just the fact that you thought of that by me saying 'santa's cute' shows that you're the freak in this relationship."

he grinned broadly. "and you're the person who's with that freak."

a slightly disgusted grimace stretched across your face. you had reached your limit and slowly moved away from his figure. "not for long." you said, getting up and walked into the bedroom. your cell phone battery was running low, and you had to plug it in.

you didn't even get past the santa outfit point, my god. how were you supposed to organize all this stuff in time?

"wait, baby!" satoru shouted and followed after you. he stood at the doorway as he watched you. "i'm putting on the santa costume! and you can fulfill whatever freaky fantasy you have on me, i promise! don't be mad at me!"

you gave him an annoyed look. "i don't want to fuck santa, for fuck's sake! at this point, i don't even want to do it with you!"

well. that last one was a lie.

[clatterbane]

The lovely new orthopedic sandals I just got sent home with, y'all! 🥴

These are actually less grandma-shoe fugly than the first ones they pulled out. My Mamaw wouldn't have gone out in public with those things on her feet, for that matter. I apparently had a severe enough case of Stressed Autistic Face going beyond my control when they pulled those out, that they did bring out another style. Which is something, I guess, embarrassing as it may have been. I don't have the best control over my face at the best of times. Which that wasn't.

At least they went straight for black, possibly after seeing my outfit. I went in halfway prepared to semi-politely try to avoid taupe. 😑

[ETA: Besides just the whole usual "orthopedic shoe" aesthetic, I couldn't help but notice that we were the only people under retirement age in the fairly busy waiting room. Which may not help.]

So yeah, I had an appointment this morning at what appears to be the only orthotic and prosthetic clinic in town. But, not yet on the cooler side.

At the last endo appointment, the doctor for whatever reason decided to put in an urgent referral to orthotics after finding out that I hadn't been there already. I can certainly see the point of trying to keep my one remaining foot as happy as possible, but it hardly seemed urgent when I'm not even walking around right now. Today was actually a delayed appointment, thanks to a collision with another gastroscopy appointment when they were wanting to schedule it.

But, examining my foot the endo also sort of freaked out for whatever reason. My supposed "deformities" were mentioned. That would be through a few layers of communication interference, since she is at best guess from somewhere in the Balkans. Dealing with my dense ass in English, in Sweden. It still seemed like a bizarre thing to say with no further explanation. The best either of us could figure out was that maybe she somehow got worked up over my toes...doing what they've always done with absolutely no comment from any sort of professional before? I really have no idea.

But, today I did go to orthotics. And they openly wondered wtf was up with the urgency. Apparently the information they got was that I had some active foot ulcer(s) going on which needed some special fitting to accommodate--which was very obviously not the case. (?!) No wonder reception there was pushing to get me in much sooner. The actual specialist also did not seem to see anything particularly concerning whatsoever about my foot or the way I stood on it. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

So, I got sent home with a pair of totally off the shelf orthopedic sandals for around the house, basically because why not.

Did they even see a need to fit me with additional orthotics, as recommended on the box? NOPE. And I did not get the impression that it was out of NHS-style cheaping out.

Just straight off the shelf walking sandals, which actually seemed less comfortable than what I've been wearing. Oddly, this orthotist wanted to put me in shoes at least one size down from what I would normally wear. It wasn't like they didn't have the next size up, either. She thought it looked too big. These looked and felt about like you'd expect on--and with my sensory issues, you can bet that I am careful about how my shoes fit. 😬 And my feet aren't exactly sliding around in them normally. Ah well. Another reason these sandals went straight into the closet after getting home!

Hopefully this won't turn into a bigger issue once I do have an aftermarket leg to stand on, and will really need decent shoes for walking around in.

On that front, when we were discussing why I was even there and what I might need? (And explaining that, yes, I was really hoping to get walking around again ASAP?) My handy live-in Swedish interpreter asked the orthotist about how we might best try to go about getting that underway. Seemed like a good place to ask, since that is also the prosthetic clinic I would be going through.

They honestly seemed a bit surprised that I wasn't already in the system for that--and once again unused to dealing with situations where someone had moved in minus a limb and a Robo Leg, rather than going through the local system from surgery onward. She went to get a prosthetist to talk to us, but they weren't in the office right then. Probably gone to lunch. So, we were advised to get back to the endo about the referral she said she was putting in (which wasn't showing up in their system, and honestly may have gone to the wrong place since it was so far out of the endo's wheelhouse). Also to try primary care, who should be able to refer me there too.

So, at least we do have a little more knowledgeable advice about where to even start with that. Plus some gratuitous too-small granny sandals resigned to the back of a closet.

[t4yce]

I know I’ve been gone for a little but now that I’m back I had to stop by an invade your inbox and get your opinions on Drag Rave Sverige💜

I’ve really liked the first two episodes and I feel like there’s a perfect balance of teasing, kindness, and authenticity from the queens and I’m really liking Fux as a host

So far my favorites are Imma Queen, Elecktra, and Fontana. Imma seems very sweet and is so imaginative and different and I just love seeing her interpretation of things displayed in her drag. Fontana is another sweetheart and her makeup is gorgeous. Her genuine enthusiasm and the fun she has definitely gives me Arantxa energy which I absolutely love. And to me Elecktra radiates quiet confidence and I feel like she’s been doing drag long enough to know she’s amazing but is still super relatable

Admira has been growing on me too since I was worried that she’d take things too seriously (since she comes off as super professional and put together) but she’s shown how light-hearted and nurturing she can be which I was glad to see. Santana’s looks have been amazing and I feel like she’s ver intriguing snd I definitely want to see more of her. And I find myself having a soft spot for Endigo since she seems like a sweetheart who is really trying to give it her all

How have you been liking the show so far? Which queens are your early favorites?

Hello!! first and foremost its nice to have you back, I did notice you hadn't posted in a while, hope you're doing well!! 💕💕 and 2nd of all, sorry its taken me so long to reply ive been extremely behind on sverige.. i swear it just started and then suddenly i was seeing 'are you team' posts on twitter lol i'm still not fully caught up but watched a few more eps earlier this week and i think i'm caught up enough to at least reply now 😅 But yes i'm really liking Fux too, i loveee the look he wears in those pop up videos in the werkroom it reminds me of something you'd see in panto! And yes to everything you said about fontana, she's one of my favs too!! so much so that i had to pause my cathing up plans after ep5 because i was so annoyed at how they treated her that ep! she did not deserve to be in the bottom but as soon as they announced euphoria as the lip sync song i knew she'd be staying!! but yeah still not happy about how that ep went down

I'm glad you're liking Admira too because I am obsessed with her! She reminds me of miss fame in a way?? or maybe like her aunt lol Her looks are always incredible (her liquorice look is probably my favourite from the whole season so far) and she clearly takes what she does very seriously but like you said there's still an air of light heartedness about her. Plus she's so funny. Obsessed. Like you Vanity, Santana and Elektra are also some of my favs for very similar reasons but also can i just say I have not heard 'irish coffee' in the same way since elektra's talent show.. the way she says it has just been living in my head each and every day and it probably will continue too do so for the forseable future Overall I am liking the season but if i'm being honest i haven't fully connected with it?? Maybe because it started when Belgique was airing and thats my no1 so far this year, but also i didnt connect with s15 much either so maybe its just me 😅

[b4ckr00ms-k4ndl3z]

Hey! May i request a xreader where the reader tries to sneak in gifts for Funeral of Dead Butterflies? Nothing big but like small knickknacks and things like that

Woah, hey! I can't see how old this is, but I feel it's safe to assume this was from a long time ago, so I'm sorry I've left this here for so long! I've been gone off this account, but, I'm here now and I will absolutely write this for you! Again, sorry for the long wait. I believe this would've been better as an imagine or at least scenario, but I've done headcanons for this for now. Although, I might come back to this later and write more!

Pairing ; Funeral Of Dead Butterflies x reader (Platonic or Romantic is up to interpretation)

Genre ; Fluff

TW's / CW's ; None

Fandom ; Lobotomy Corporation

Oh, Funeral of the Dead Butterflies definitely appreciates all your gifts. He'd keep every gift you manage to give to him of course, but try to make sure its nothing that would clutter his containment unit too quick. Nobody likes a messy place, especially when it's somewhere you have to stay in for probably years.

In my interpretation for Funeral, he is very appreciative of others, and very polite. Which, he'd always compliment your gifts genuinely. If it's something he can wear, he'd wear it for as long as he can as long as it doesn't mess with any of his arms in a way it shouldn't. If he can't, he'd still keep it around of course!

He wishes he could give something back, but other than his EGO gift he can't really give much considering he can't really leave much at all. Speaking of his EGO gift, you most likely have it by now already, and that is only one of many signs of your friendship.

He probably enjoys your company as well, considering how you'd go as far to sneak in gifts for him you must care for him very much, which he is grateful for. Although there isn't much Funeral could do, he tries to show it. He knows there's most likely rules against something like that, and if you were caught there would probably be some punishment to it, along with the gift you brought for him taken.

He really does appreciate you, genuinely, and like I've already said Funeral does his best to show it, and let you know he really does love all your little gifts you get for him!

I hope this was good! <3

[amazing-spiderling]

How aware do you Murderdock is of the multiverse?

Guess it's time for another ♥♡∞:｡.｡MURDERDOCK META POST｡.｡:∞♡♥

This sent me back to the comics, because I had a general memory of how things played out, but this is also a situation where the specific dialogue makes a difference. While I still think the words on the page leave something to reader interpretation, I'll give you my hot take.

The multiverse does factor into "Spider-Gwen" as a significant factor at several points, both during crossovers (like the Spider-Women event) and as a major plot point in its own self contained story. (By the time the series starts, Gwen had already gone through the entirety of events of the Spider-Verse event.) It would be easy to think that Matt doesn't know about the multiverse at all, but we have some indicators that this is not the case!

During the 6 Issue Miles Morales/Spider-Gwen crossover, the pair end up in Earth-65 trying to hunt down that world's Jefferson Davis, who is a low level crime boss. He is interfering with SILK's business, which might put him in the "the enemy of my enemy is my friend" category, except for one thing...

Matt Murdock wants him out of the picture. Now, there's a few notable pieces of information in this interaction. First of all, Miles quickly recognizes Matt and his power set, Matt identifies himself as a threat, and explains why and how he wants the two heroes to deal with this problem for him. Now, not only do I think Matt remains unphased by the appearance of a previously unknown Spider-Man, but he uses the phrase "someone with your father's face" here, implying he knows that Davis is not Miles' real father, but someone who just looks like him. To me, that means that he understands, at least on a very basic level, that the multiverse is a thing, and different versions of people can and do exist in different universes. Why does he know this at this point? Unclear! But the best bet is that Cindy explained the fundamentals to him while they brokered their various deals, as she is well versed in the topic.

So that seems pretty conclusive evidence that he is aware of the multiverse, but the follow-up question that I have to ask is, what does he think about it? Well, how did you react the first time you learned about how vast the universe was? It sure made you feel some kind of way, didn't it?

To this end, let's examine a few other panels!

During Gwen's fight to defend Harry in Madripoor, she has to do quite a lot of running, and things get well out of hand more than once. At some point, she drops the bag containing her transporter bracelet, and Matt picks it up. Based on his wry smile, I think he has some idea of what it is.

At least at this point, he understands that it is some kind of transporter, and that he can use the technology to his advantage. Here, he uses it to "draw back the curtain" so to speak, to show Gwen that her father is in a coma, so she'll run off after him immediately, and drop the fight she's in the middle of.

Later, he uses it himself to make a quick exit after delivering Richie Rogers (the dirty cop who let Alexei into Captain Stacy's cell) in an attempt to bait her into a murderous rage. So he clearly understands how the device works and is capable of using it for himself.

Then? He keeps it, for ages. He still has it on him in a much later issue when he recovers a barely-breathing Rogers and even shows it off before delivering his backstory monologue. He admits the dinging noise perplexes him, and he can't make it stop. You'd think he'd throw it in a drawer or at least get Otomo to look at it and tell him if the screen is blinking "low battery", you know?

He is even wearing it in his penultimate confrontation with Gwen, and it's being just as annoying as ever. Gwen finally realizes that Murdock has had the device in his possession for ages now, and she seems to be rightfully concerned. But she doesn't recover it at this point.

(I didn't really need to include this page, but it's sick as hell. Look at it! The colors! The typeface in the background! The action!)

Gwen eventually returns from her multiversal self-confrontational romp to take down Matt once and for all, and find him in pretty bad shape. He's cut ties with the Hand and they've cut him to pieces in return. Though he's fended off wave after wave of ninjas on his own, he's clearly wounded, both from this altercation and the beating Gwen gave him earlier. And yet, he has the nerve to stand there like everything is going according to plan, peddling his usual lies. And I think that's really important to take note of.

Because immediately after, he shows Gwen the transporter, and says that at any moment he could have gone wherever he wanted and started a whole new life. This, of course, would have behooved him, as the Hand are currently after him with everything they have, his allies in the city are dwindling by the minute, and his grand performance is quickly coming to a close. He tells Gwen that he chose to stay for her benefit, though we know in his mind that this means he doesn't think he's finished his job of helping Gwen be corrupted by power.

And Gwen? Rightfully calls him out on his bullshit. As should we all.

Now, there's a lot to unpack here, and I think it goes back up to the interaction with Miles. Matt knows that the multiverse exists. And I don't think it's too far of a stretch to say that he understands the bracelet is not just a teleporter, but can actually open up gates to other dimensions, like the ones Gwen has traveled to. When he talks about "going anywhere" I don't think he just means a quiet villa in Tuscany, because as he has said in the past, the Hand are everywhere, with a stranglehold on every culture. I don't think there's anywhere he could run that would be far enough, besides the fact that he, y'know, kind of stands out. (I mean, what's he going to do, dye his hair and pretend he can see and get a job as a line cook at a diner?)

No, I think it's far more compelling to imagine that he is telling Gwen he could have gone to any other world, but he chose to stay for her sake. Which is of course, an utter lie, and not just because Gwen wants nothing to do with him.

The real reason Matt hasn't gone anywhere? Is because he's heard about how these different universes can vary. If Cindy was indeed the one who explained the multiverse to him, then she likely mentioned how the other world's version of him was a perky, heroic, and naive little thing. Miles was shocked to find out that his dad was a criminal in this world, when he's a guiding light for him in his own. That's two for two on "other world's versions of people are good guys", so I think it's safe to imagine Matt having a "this is the bad place" moment after thinking about it for a while.

Why would that be particularly devastating for him? Well, just as Peter Parker's ethos revolves around, "With great power, there must also come great responsibility", Murderdock has more or less formed his life around the idea that "power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely". He believes that he was fated to become a corrupted and evil human being because he was given power and skill far beyond that of anyone else in the world. (Remember, Earth-65 is a "low super" world, so someone like Matt Murdock would be closer to the top of the food chain, even without ninja training and a willingness to kill.) So sure, he could go to a universe that proves this theory right, he might even meet a version of himself that is somehow worse, but what terrifies him to his core is the idea that he might meet a version of himself who is so much better.

So while Murderdock does believe that power is what caged him, that his fall from grace was an inevitability the moment those chemicals were splashed in his eyes, I think it's safe to say there is a tiny, screaming, crying voice at the core of him that lies awake at night wondering, "What if it wasn't?"

And that's why he stays right where he is.

[ridreamir]

Yeah, I have a request but I want to run it by you as it's kinda specific and some writers may feel that it's limiting. That or by reading this it kinda reveals the whole thing. So an Arezu × Reader. You want to tell her how you feel but she's busy being the hairstylist so you hatch a plan to tell her while she works. The next part is just a bit that you do or do not want to add. Getting your haircut you tell her but during her excitement she cuts some of your hair causing a massive bald spot. Let's just say you had to wear a hat for a while because of that.

Pokemon Legends Arceus BALD speedrun any percent 😎

This was the last ask sitting in my inbox, meaning I don't have any more to answer-- but I'm alright with posting some lighthearted quick headcanons and things this week as I figure out the details of my last-minute trip-- if it's still happening. (Edit: there's one more that came in last night for me) If you want to send me something, feel free! A lot of what I write can be interpreted as either platonic or romantic, but I sort of want to write some definitively romantic shenanigans with both Ingo and Emmet, Volo, and maybe some others. The text editor is still broken for me, which is... quite annoying. I'm not sure how to get it to stop glitching, or what even made it start in the first place.

.

.

So it seems headwear is all the rage these days. Rei, Laventon, Ingo, everybody cool wears hats, right? Right?

So far, only the clothier and Arezu's mentor know about the latest predicament, and hopefully, to spare you the embarrassment, it stays that way. Plus if it got out that your hair was so royally decimated, it'd look bad for their business, and you know that it wouldn't have happened if you'd just waited for the haircut to be over to talk to her.

It's been a few days already, and you've gone from hat to scarves to hat again, in a faux effort to be "stylish", something sure to be understood by the many ladies of the village-- they must wonder if your new efforts to be "fashionable" have anything to do with your recent visits to the Warden.

The one good thing to come out of this is that you personally have more of an excuse to spend time with her. She personally stays at the salon most waking hours of the day, unless her Lady needs tending to.

And now, well, you suppose she's been made aware of your feelings, though her acceptance of them is... up in the air. There are more pressing things to tend to, but it wasn't exactly a no, it was more of a flustered horrified "This is a bad time" just as the sound of her trimmer snipping sounded closely behind your ear.

It's sort of funny in hindsight, really funny (and ill-thought-out) but with the many changes coming about in Hisui, maybe you were due for a change of style.

.

.

We did talk a little back and forth about this prompt, so here are some of the things we said before I wrote this post: From me:

"I mean... there is a clothier right next to her... maybe head scarves are just the fashion these days!" "Imagine her trying to save it by cutting your hair up into an even wackier style! damn XP" "!!!! I know there's nothing in the games related but it'd be funny if people saw your bald head at any point and thought of like a traditional monk or something like they have no idea what the statement is but they assume it has something to do with Arceus and piety when it was just an awful haircut mishap"

From @sessylu: "I imagine that one seen from the SpongeBob movie where there’s that one customer screaming MY EYEESS!!!" "Oh yeah. You putting on these sorts of things with people asking why you are wearing it as you never done it. You claim it’s what all the fashionable people do these days."

[dirty-holy-things]

The Space Between (your heart & mine)

Chapter 21 has been posted to Ao3, and below to Tumblr.

Catch up on chapters 1-20 on Ao3.

Notes: This fic is 18+ and explicit. This chapter is smut-heavy, but also delves into some SW lore, including my interpretation / extrapolation of Grogu's history with the Jedi. Overall, a soft, happy, smutty chapter - figured we were due one after an extended absence and so much emotional upheaval.

Likes and reblogs are endlessly appreciated!

Words: 6.0k update.

If you'd like to be notified about fic updates and / or upcoming projects, please fill out my taglist form!

“I don’t know much about the Jedi Order,” you began, a look of consternation on your face. “What I do know, is from what I’ve read in the few books that talk about them. The Jedi followed the light side of the Force, what’s commonly considered to be the good side. They had opposition though — the Sith followed the dark side. They continually fought, one side occasionally coming out on top of the other, but there was rarely any actual peace… or balance.”

Balance. You had spoken often about the emphasis that Ixxith placed on balance. Din had heard of both Jedi and Sith, however his knowledge was woefully slim; but he could see how these two powerful religious groups could have brought a shattering, tearing conflict and chaos into the galaxy, each one believing that their ideology was right.

“Grogu trained with the Jedi Order, until they fell. Their downfall seems to have come from their own… pride, or complacency, or something — and the Empire and the Sith took over. Grogu saw…” You paused, looking down to the small green face that was buried in your arms, nestled into the blanket. Grogu’s ears drooped, and he made a small, sad sound.

Din felt something ache in his chest, like a pulled muscle.

“Grogu saw many of his friends, other younglings — or foundlings — killed by a Jedi who had turned to the dark side.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and Din could hear the tears that were hovering on the edge, teetering and threatening to spill over.

This ship had seen enough tears for today.

"I can’t think of any greater happiness than to be with you all the time, without interruption, endlessly, even though I feel that here in this world there’s no undisturbed place for our love, neither in the village nor anywhere else. And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms with iron bars, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us anymore.” - Franz Kafka, The Castle

While there had been times in his life in which Din regretted having to remain concealed from you, this was not one of them. He had never had to account for any of his facial expressions before, and the expressiveness that was concealed by the mask had worked out in his favor this time. He had been incredibly nervous and worried when he heard your whimpers and cries coming from the bunk; he tried to wake you up gently, tried to reassure you, but it seemed as though you had disappeared from him yet again — this time into some sort of nightmare that he was powerless to save you from. He could imagine that the look on his face in that moment would have only scared you further, showing all of the pain and worry that had been steadily cresting into a tsunami since finding you in the alleyway. He felt as though he had spent the last several days walking on eggshells, terrified that something, some misstep, might take you away from him — and this was a kind of fear that was new to Din, having never before held anything that would be painful to lose.

When you finally woke up, tears still streaming, he could feel a piece of his heart break for all of the pain that you had carried throughout your life. He thought you had been doing better over the past several weeks and months, as your spirit seemed to grow brighter and more carefree; but it was naive of him to think that the pain had gone away entirely. It had receded, like the tides, but like the tides, it would always come back; sometimes gently, sometimes crashing, but it was a piece of you and always would be.

He had also been surprised to see you wearing a jacket to bed; he didn’t recall having seen it before, and he didn’t recall you getting up to put it on. It was odd, and he vaguely intended to ask you about it at some point, but it was lower on the list of his priorities at this time. His focus had since shifted to getting both you and the kid to Tython safely; while he couldn’t teach the two of you about the Force, he could try and bring you closer to the knowledge and the peace that you were seeking.

Grogu had agreed to this new expedition, after returning to the Razor Crest and discussing the options that were available. You and Grogu both appeared to be nervous, but also excited as you pondered what this could mean for your futures, both shared and independent. The three of you seated in the familiar cockpit of the ship, the air surrounding you all felt somewhat charged or electric, almost as if Din could feel it on his tongue — what was that? Excitement? Hope?

“I don’t know how quickly — how quickly someone may be able to sense us, or find us. Or if we’re supposed to stay in that spot until somebody does?” You wondered aloud, slouching back into your seat in the cockpit. Grogu was resting in your lap, playing with the buttons and ties on your jacket as you bounced your knee nervously, jostling him slightly. He cooed and laughed up at you, and Din watched your eyebrows raise up in surprise. He wished he had some way to participate, to share this communication and bond that you and the kid had.

“Well, I suppose you’re right — we really haven’t thought this through too much, but we can figure it out.” You sighed, your hand coming up to absentmindedly rub Grogu’s fuzzy green ear.

Figure what out?

Din felt excluded from this conversation, being as he could only hear one side of it; but he worked to remind himself that this Force stuff was a unique tie that you and Grogu shared, one that he shouldn’t intrude on. Din knew that the two of you would share many of the same hopes and fears, that would come along with this blind step that you would be taking together. He couldn’t resent either of you for this, and truthfully, he was thankful that he had no such ties to the Force. It was intriguing, but seemed to cause just as many problems as it solved.

Leaning back slightly into his seat, he watched the way you watched the stars, loving the peaceful scene that was unfolding here within the walls of his ship — was it really his ship anymore? You and Grogu had just as much claim to this space as he did. He watched the way that Grogu smiled up at you, leaned his head into your chest, clung to you like a child would cling to its mother. He watched you tuck your feet underneath you, nestling closer into yourself as you often did when you were cold. Smiling to himself, concealed by the helmet, he grabbed the soft blanket that had been kicked to the side of the cockpit so many days ago; he shook it out gently and reached over to drape it across the armrest of your seat. You didn’t seem to notice in the moment, however, as your focus had been drawn away from the stars, and back to the child in your arms.

You hummed lowly, wrapping Grogu more securely into your arms. “No, I don’t think we need to worry about that. They came to the same end that the Empire did.”

The both of you were worried about something, Din could sense it in the room, despite the words of reassurance and confidence that you shared with Grogu. “They?” He asked, gently stepping into the conversation.

Your back straightened considerably at his words, almost as though you had been so wrapped up in your conversation with Grogu that you had forgotten Din was there. “Oh. Grogu is — was — worried about what could happen, if… if it isn’t a Jedi that finds us on Tython.”

Din stayed quiet, allowing you the chance to elaborate if you wanted. His silence seemed to encourage you, as you turned the seat to face him, to better carry out the conversation. The blanket that Din had tried to give to you earlier fell into your lap, and you smiled at him as you wrapped both Grogu and yourself up in it.

He wanted to wrap up in that blanket with you, in bed, feel your body against his — he blinked rapidly, trying to return his focus to the subject at hand. Now was not the time.

“I don’t know much about the Jedi Order,” you began, a look of consternation on your face. “What I do know, is from what I’ve read in the few books that talk about them. The Jedi followed the light side of the Force, what’s commonly considered to be the good side. They had opposition though — the Sith followed the dark side. They continually fought, one side occasionally coming out on top of the other, but there was rarely any actual peace… or balance.”

Balance. You had spoken often about the emphasis that Ixxith placed on balance. Din had heard of both Jedi and Sith, however his knowledge was woefully slim; but he could see how these two powerful religious groups could have brought a shattering, tearing conflict and chaos into the galaxy, each one believing that their ideology was right.

“Grogu trained with the Jedi Order, until they fell. Their downfall seems to have come from their own… pride, or complacency, or something — and the Empire and the Sith took over. Grogu saw…” You paused, looking down to the small green face that was buried in your arms, nestled into the blanket. Grogu’s ears drooped, and he made a small, sad sound.

Din felt something ache in his chest, like a pulled muscle.

“Grogu saw many of his friends, other younglings — or foundlings — killed by a Jedi who had turned to the dark side.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, and Din could hear the tears that were hovering on the edge, teetering and threatening to spill over.

This ship had seen enough tears for today.

He reached a gloved hand out towards you and the kid, and it came to rest under Grogu’s small green chin. Din noticed the wiry white hairs that protruded from it, and he marveled at the idea that something so small and childlike could somehow be older than him. Grogu blinked heavily and a fat tear rolled down his chubby cheeks, landing on the leather that covered Din’s palm. Grogu’s small hands reached out towards Din, his lower lip quivering slightly, and instinctively Din moved forward to pick the kid up, pulling him into his chest. He could feel the small thing shaking against him, and he held him closer, needing to make him feel safe and secure in any way that he could. For all of their travels together, Din had kept him safe, had never left him; and despite his inability to truly communicate with the kid, Din loved him, and trusted that Grogu knew that he loved him.

Din shifted Grogu’s small body in his arms, before reaching out to place his other hand against your knee; he gave it a small squeeze, a gentle reminder that you and Grogu were not alone here. He understood how terrifying it felt, having no sense of what may come next, having little agency in the narrative of your life. He had been in this place before, as a foundling, and wanted to offer you both the support and consolation that he would have wanted for his younger self.

Din watched you smile up at him, a small, sad thing; a shallow breath escaped from his chest as he watched you continually put up a brave and confident front. You always fought to put on a brave face, whether that brave illusion was for yourself or somebody else.

“The Sith fell when the Empire did. They’re gone.” You said softly, reaching out to clasp Grogu’s small hand in yours. “And while I may not have met her, I trust this Ahsoka to lead us to a safe place, not into harm’s way.”

Grogu nodded, his wrinkled skin and large ears rubbing against Din’s chest plate. Din could feel him begin to relax as he continued to hold him closely. Grogu had liked the one Jedi he had met in his travels with Din, and Din had to agree with your declaration of trust. Din hadn’t felt particularly fond of her, but she had proven to be honest and trustworthy so far — and that went quite a ways in Din’s book.

“How about we get you to bed?” You asked, an eyebrow raising with a smile as you looked on at Grogu. “We’ve got a ways to go before we reach Tython, and I think some time to rest may do you some good.”

Grogu gurgled a sound that Din assumed to be positive, or some sort of agreement, and watched as you pushed yourself up from the seat that you had been reclining in. He couldn’t help but notice the way that your pants clung to you, as the blanket fell away from your frame; he bit the inside of his lip as he passed the kid back to you, noticing the way that the soft, sensitive skin of your chest and neck was on display. Maybe putting the kid to bed was a good idea, he reasoned, as he felt something stir in his stomach.

He watched you as you turned to walk out of the cockpit, enjoying the way that your hips swayed with every step that you took; he loved the dips in your hips, loved the movement of your thighs, loved watching the muscles move together flawlessly in a way that lured him into a hot, heady, overpowering trance. His body seemed to take over, take control, and he felt himself rising up from his seat to follow you, needing to be close to you. He needed to touch you, needed to taste you, needed to feel you.

His mind was occupied by explicit images of you, images that stood out in stark contrast against the sweet scene playing out before him; you were humming and patting the kid’s back, rocking back and forth on the same hips that he had just been fantasizing of. Grogu’s eyes were drooping, and Din watched you sneak the wampa into the kid’s waiting grasp. He leaned against the doorframe, watching the saccharine sight unfold, watching the two people that he loved the most share this moment of security and tranquility.

A more primal part of him was trying to rush this scene along, wanting you to place the kid in his cradle so Din could have his way with you; he hoped that you didn’t hear his sigh of relief that escaped when you finally put the whimpering kid into his bed. The way that you bent over, positioning your ass directly in his line of sight, made him think that you had, in fact, heard it, and knew full well what you were doing.

After he heard the cradle close, he couldn’t help himself from stepping forward and into you, loving how your body immediately pressed itself backwards into him; he felt his heart beat pounding with ferocity as he felt the curve of your ass pressing against his thighs and his half-hardened cock. His hands snaked across your body, moving from your waist to trace their way across your stomach and down to your center. He couldn’t help but notice the way your breath hitched in your throat, and he pinched you ever so gently, your shoulders and backside pressing even further into him.

He used the placement of his hands to guide your willing body back to the cockpit, much to your surprise; the two of you had grown accustomed to the makeshift bed on the floor, but Din had another plan in mind. He loved the way that you grinned up at him, trusting him and leaning into this new experience with him.

Din guided the both of your bodies towards his seat in the cockpit; sitting down into the aged and shaped leather, he guided you down onto his lap and groaned as he felt the pressure of your body pressing against his stiffened cock. His hand instinctively traveled up the length of your spine, pressing into you, before coming to tangle into your hair; he gave an experimental tug and reveled in the whimpering sound that he received in return. Your hands moved upwards to rest on the beskar helmet, a subtle request to take it off; but Din shook his head ever so slightly, and he knew that you understood.

You arched your back as you sat up on his lap, your hips driving into his as you grinned wickedly at him. You may not be able to kiss him, may not be able to nip and bite at his neck as you normally would, but the sight of you bathed in the starlight of hyperspace was something otherworldly. His hands moved upwards to cup your breasts, loving the way that he could feel each breath you inhaled; his thumbs pressed into the soft flesh, and you leaned into his touch with a whine. He dragged his gloved hands across your chest, pulling away the soft fabric that had kept you concealed from him, and watched the way that your nipples raised in response the cool temperature of the cockpit.

Din groaned underneath you as he continued to push your shirt down and off of your chest, until it was entirely removed from your arms and resting loosely around your stomach. “You’re the most beautiful thing in this galaxy, cyar’ika.”

You smiled at him prettily, and he loved seeing the way that the stars streaking past you glittered in the depths of your eyes. He let you bring both of his hands upwards, noticing the way that your small hands barely wrapped around his, and then you pulled off the gloves that had kept him separated from the warmth of your skin. You brought one hand to rest on your breast, and another up to your face; he watched you curiously and excitedly as your mouth parted, taking both his index and middle finger into your mouth.

He gasped as he felt the familiar, soft heat of your mouth against his fingers; his hips bucked up into yours, his throbbing cock needing the stimulation; he could feel you smiling as you sucked on his fingers, and he groaned at your devilish and intentional teasing. His hand that was not currently buried within your mouth palmed your breast with ferocity, his thumb stroking the raised bud of your nipple; under normal, darkened circumstances he would take the bud in his mouth, dragging his hot tongue across it, but he had chosen to leave the helmet on this time and would not be able to use his mouth against you. He would just have to explore some new avenues.

He groaned in disappointment as you pulled away, before realizing that you had moved just enough to undo the belt that was slung across his waist. He watched you shift the rough, utilitarian fabric of his pants lower and lower, until his cock sprung forward from the fabric. He loved the greedy and excited look in your eyes, as you gazed on at him as if he was the only sight in your sky.

You sank to your knees before your small hand came up to grasp his cock, and he hissed through the modulator at the sensation; for all of the years he had spent in isolation, with no physical company except for that of his own hand, he relished in the still-unfamiliar touch of another person, of you. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, to press his lips against yours, and yet he had chosen to keep the helmet on, a piece of him intrigued by what may occur between your bodies in the absence of this type of contact.

Your eyes flicked up at him, a devilish glint present as your lips wrapped around the girth of his cock, tongue tracing across it hotly with a pressure that felt both heavy and unholy. Every inch of you was fucking incredible, and he couldn’t help himself from reaching out to grab a fistful of hair. Din couldn’t deny that he loved the way that your mouth sank down even further onto his cock as his grip against you tightened.

Din felt an undeniable tension and heat spreading throughout his body, and with a gasp he pulled you up and away from his throbbing cock; he had other intentions for you, intended to fill that sweet, beautiful pussy with his thick and lengthy cock, intended to fill you up with hot ropes of cum. And yet — seeing you here, on the floor of the cockpit, saliva dripping down your chin while he held onto you by a fistful of hair — well, the sight threatened to undo him right then and there.

He let his head roll back, eyes closing; it felt nearly impossible to tear his eyes away from you, but he needed a minute to regain some composure before losing himself.

In his moment of respite, you had apparently grown impatient with him, and he felt the heat of your mouth against his balls; you rolled your tongue across them and Din felt a curse slip past his lips. He growled as he felt you begin to suck him further into your mouth, your tongue keeping up its ungodly, torturous movements. His hand that was still fisted in your hair yanked you back with some force, as he gasped desperately for air; and while he had almost felt bad about the way in which he had pulled you off of him, the pleased and preening look in your eye told him that you had played him, that you had gotten exactly what you wanted.

“Up,” he growled, his hand moving away from your scalp to help guide your flushed and burning body away from the floor as he remained seated. You complied, and Din thanked the gods, thanked the Force, whatever was out there, that you hadn’t chosen this time to be stubborn. “Strip,” He commanded, his voice hoarse; he gestured towards your few items of clothing that had been pushed askew. He needed them off of you, needed to see the way your skin would glow for him underneath the stars, needed to see how you would glow when you came on top of him.

You obliged his request, and he watched the last pieces of your clothing fall to the floor — and he was right in his previous assessment about your beauty. You looked positively angelic bathed in the light of the stars, with your body brazenly on display in the windows of the cockpit, and yet with nobody except Din and the galaxy to witness it. You drew your arms in closely around your form, wrapping them around your chest as you fought off the chill; Din chuckled softly, continually amused by how somebody so devastatingly hot could always be so cold.

You rolled your eyes at Din’s laughter, and that irrespective gesture made some sort of red heat flare up in his chest; he sat up taller in the seat of the chair, and despite his seated frame he was nearly at eye level with you. He spread his legs out widely, his cock standing erect, and gestured with an uncovered hand to come here.

You approached with a grin, your legs moving to rest on the edge of the seat, by his thighs, but Din had other intentions. Right as you were about to sit down on him, he grabbed you by the waist and spun you around, until you were facing away from him; and he was treated to the sight of your hair tumbling in disarray, and the sight of your perfect ass pressed against him.

You gasped at Din’s sudden and unexpected movement, and Din felt your body momentarily tense up underneath his hands; he chuckled again, smirking just a bit. He snaked a hand down across your stomach and to your center, pulling your willing body even further into his as he guided the tip of his cock into the tight heat of your cunt. “Relax, cyar’ika.” He murmured, before forcefully pulling your hips downwards to push his entire length inside of you.

You cried out at the intrusion, but Din could feel the way that your body responded to him, could feel the way that you opened up and blossomed for him as you always did. He still marveled at how you managed to take him all, knowing that the sight of your tight pussy taking the entirety of his throbbing cock was one of his favorite sights to see. He lifted you up by your hips, hands gripping into your soft skin, as he shifted your weight before pulling you back down onto him. He loved the way your back arched for him, loved the breathy, needy cries that you exhaled with each thrust upwards and into you.

Din reached a hand forward to spread your legs further, guiding them to rest on top of his, allowing you the ability to ride him and regain some measure of control. His hand found its place between your thighs, his large, calloused fingers tweaking the sensitive bundle of nerves that he had learned how to play like the finest of instruments; he groaned as he felt you tighten and spasm above him, gripping the thick and throbbing length of his cock. You were fucking incredible, more beautiful and perfect and sensual and dirty than he ever would’ve thought he would deserve.

“Do you like that, sweet girl? Like riding my cock right here, in the cockpit? Earning its name, isn’t it? What a sweet, dirty girl you are for me.” Din whispered, one hand continuing to trace pressured patterns into your clit while his other hand came up to tangle itself in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back towards him, before your hot cheek came to rest against the freezing beskar of his helmet. Despite the barrier offered by the beskar, he would’ve sworn that he could still feel the heat of you against his cheek, as if nothing had been separating the two of you. Whether it was here in the cockpit, or in the casino on Canto Bight, you had always managed to look past all of the beskar to see the man underneath it.

Din loosened his grip on you, giving you the opportunity to choose what to do from here — and as your hands came outwards to rest on Din’s knees, giving yourself the balance necessary to continue to ride him, he knew that he was a goner, knew that he’d do whatever you asked of him. He liked to play, to pretend that he was in control, and yet as he watched your body move against his in the starlight, he understood that sense of power was an entertaining illusion, but at the end of each and every day he was entirely enchanted by you. He would give you any pleasure, any comfort that you asked, he would give you every single star in the sky — he would give you his name, make it yours; he would give you any sight of him that you desired. Any sight, were you only to ask.

He felt his cock twitching as you continued to draw your body back down and into his; there was a tightness and a heat spreading like wildfire through his chest, coursing through his body and brightening and sensitizing every nerve. He groaned and a curse fell from his lips, as his body continued to react instinctively to the incredible sensation of your pussy clenched tightly around him; his hand ripped away from its place between your thighs, and his hand cracked sharply against your ass. He loved the way his palm stung with the impact, loved the way that he watched the soft flesh ripple and quake beneath his hand. This was a good angle, worth repeating.

He could feel your body tightening above his, could feel the way that your muscles were coiling in a familiar way that he had grown to love; he growled in your ear, the modulator making it seem even more ferocious. He offered one more sharp slap against your backside before his fingers resumed their rightful place against your clit, but this time with increased pressure and pace, determined to make you cum before him, determined to feel the way you would soak him with your orgasm before his rapidly-approaching release.

“Din— D-Din, fuck, please,” you whimpered, and he sat up in the seat before wrapping an arm around your chest, pulling you into him tightly, to the point where he wasn’t sure where his breaths began and yours ended. Maybe he couldn’t give you all the stars in the sky, but he could give you this, would spend every day of his life giving you this, making you feel blissful and adored in a way that he trusted only he could.

He nestled his covered head into your shoulder, continuing to hold your burning body against his as he fucked up and into you; his other hand continued to stroke against your clit, each movement making you quake against him in a way that he loved and burned into his memory. His breaths became heavy as he felt you tightening around him; you were positively burning now, your skin hotter than the stars that flew above you, and Din knew you were getting close from the way that you cried and keened at his touch.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered, working to coax you even higher as the two of you chased that orgasm. “Want to feel you cum on my cock, sweet girl, want to feel you cum for me. You just love the way I fuck you, don’t you?” He fought off the waves of pleasure that were licking against him as he wanted to bring you to that peak, wanted to know your needs were taken care of. He would always take care of you, even though he knew you’d never need him to.

You gasped, your breaths becoming increasingly more shallow and desperate as you continued to burn and tense beneath his touch. “Want — want you to cum for me, c-cum inside me, please, Din — want to, need to feel you cum for me—“

Your desperate pleas for him to cum were going to be his undoing — he had understood that he could never deny you what you wanted, and fuck if this wasn’t included in it. He tried to fight it, the valiant piece of himself wanting to get you there first, not wanting to be selfish in this pleasure. “Gonna cum for you, but please— be a good girl, cum for me first, cyar’ika —“

“What does that mean?” You asked curiously, momentarily drawing his attention away from his impending orgasm. This brief shift in attention allowed for him to catch his breath and turn his focus back to you. He brought his hips upwards into yours with an almost bruising force, continuing to drive his desperately aching cock into your throbbing and clenching pussy as he fought to get you there.

The two of you were gasping and sweating, the previously-cool air of the cabin now burning with the undeniable heat of desperate, loving bodies — and your hands came to rest against Din’s, holding them against your flaming skin, as you whispered a small, simple request to him. “Cum with me, Din, please.”

He groaned and the tension that had been building within his body came to a head, as your body tensed to a shatter point; as he felt an avalanche of pleasure an relief crash through him, he felt your body crashing in pleasure against him, your pussy gripping him tightly and soaking him with the waves of your orgasm. He felt his release spreading within you, loving the way that he buried his spent cock and his cum deeply inside you; there was something primal and instinctual about this release that made his skin crawl with an animalistic kind of satisfaction and pride.

Your body was shaking against his with the combined sensations, and Din’s grip shifted from a constraining, desperate grasp to a more soft and gentle one; he cradled you against him, and as your burning body came to rest against his beskar, he suddenly resented it for the distance it created. He wanted to feel you entirely, wanted to drink in every single second of bliss that the two of you shared, unsullied and undiluted by the anonymity he had fought for years to maintain. He shifted the positioning of his arms so one was cradled under your shoulders, and another was wrapped underneath your knees. He brought your relaxed and shaking form up to rest against his, needing more contact than what he had previously allowed. “Keep your eyes closed,” He murmured quietly.

“Please.” He added softly.

Din watched your eyes flutter closed and while he missed the sight of them, missed the starlight reflected in them, he wanted something else more. He reached upwards to pry the helmet off of himself, having suddenly felt quite suffocated by, it despite the excellent filtration and air quality it offered him. He needed to fully be here in this moment, with you. He dropped the helmet to the floor, the solid beskar setting off a clanging sound that echoed throughout the cockpit, but he didn’t care — all he cared about right now was kissing you.

His lips found yours with a surety and confidence that made his heart soar; he felt attuned to your body, to your desires, and he loved this newfound physical familiarity that he had developed; he had never known anybody this intimately before. He kissed your lips, your nose, your cheeks, your eyelids, your forehead, everything that he could reach, relishing in every second and sensation of contact that he was allowed.

Tightening his arms around you, he pulled you upwards and into his chest as he stood up from the chair in the cockpit; he felt you gasp in surprise against him, but then you relaxed into his grasp, trusting him, and also being exhausted from your previous indulgences. His pants slung lowly around his hips, he carried your naked form forward and into the cabin of the ship, moving towards the fresher. The two of you were a mess, dampened by sweat and the release of orgasm, and there was nothing in this galaxy that sounded better than a shower.

You had kept your eyes dutifully closed until the darkness surrounding you grew even darker, as the light in the fresher turned off. Din couldn’t see hardly anything in here, but the years of familiarity gave him an advantage that allowed for him to turn on the water and guide your bodies into it, without so much as a stubbed toe or a misstep.

“You never answered me earlier,” you said quietly, your voice holding a sort of… nervousness, that caught Din off guard. He stayed quiet for a moment, trying to sort through what had transpired in the cockpit. You seemed to take his silence as an invitation to elaborate, and Din was continually grateful that you often made the effort to speak up and initiate. “You didn’t tell me what that word meant; you called me cyar’ika. I’ve never heard that before.”

Din pulled your body closer into his, loving the way that the two of you fit together so flawlessly. “I thought you could understand almost any language,” he teased, as he relaxed into you and the water that flowed down across your bodies.

“It’s Mando’a, isn’t it?”

Din nodded.

“I’ve never heard anyone speak it before, not until you.”

Din felt a sort of pressure in his throat; being still somewhat unfamiliar and removed from his own emotions, he struggled to allow himself to feelthem, and it was nearly impossible to identify them. He wasn’t sure what this feeling, both physical and emotional was, but… he didn’t dislike it? No, he actually quite liked the idea of sharing a first experience with you, of having something that would permanently connect him to you — even if life someday took the two of you apart, he knew that you would always think of him whenever you heard someone speak his language. “Words in Mando’a often have… many meanings.” He paused, trying to find the right words to share. “It means… Beloved. Darling. Sweetheart.”

Din could feel your breath catch at his quiet admission, and as you whispered a response, he hung on your every word.

“I’ve never heard anybody speak that to me before either.”

***

Taglist: @knivesareout @tanzthompson @stageleftlauren @greatcircle79 @bdavishiddlesbatch @who-is-a-heretic-now @mesmorales

[roguerogerss]

A Hard Day’s Night

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Plot: You’re just about to go to bed, when you get an unsuspected visit from a certain supersoldier. 

W/C: 2.2k

Warnings: angst, mentions of blood/injury, language, fluff.

(A/N: Hello again! Here’s another Bucky fic bbys! This has been unfinished in my drafts for the LONGEST time, and I finally got around to finishing it! Thank you so much for the support on ‘Safe Haven’! It really means the world to a small blog like me that people r enjoying my shtuffff. If you enjoy, pls remember to like and reblog! Feedback is always welcomed and appreciated!)

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It was three in the morning, and the sky had gone a shade of dark blue when I finally decided that maybe it would be a good time to sleep. I was notorious for not turning the TV off before going to bed, and that night was no different. It was a comfort thing, even though I was fully aware that it was racking up electricity bills, and that I’d be sorry for it at the end of the month.

When I rounded the corner, from the hallway to my bedroom, the only source of light was coming from the still-open curtains, which I didn’t bother to close before getting changed. No one was awake, and I figured that, if anyone was, they might as well have looked. I set an alarm for ten, even though I knew that I would blank it and wake up closer to two in the afternoon anyway, and then I lay on my bed and looked at the ceiling.

It was quiet, peaceful, tranquil. I enjoyed being awake at ungodly hours because it meant that, while I was awake, the world was asleep. I felt superior, like I’d beaten the system and was on an entirely different wavelength from the rest of New York City. Like the birds that I could hear in the distance were my only concerns, and that they were the only ones who truly understood me in of myself. I could’ve laughed at myself for sounding so philosophical in my own head, but I didn’t.

The silence was soothing and unbroken until, was that? No, it couldn’t be. Grunts? Groaning? My face contorted as I listened to whatever the noise was getting closer to my window. It didn’t so much as scare me, it was more worrying. I sat up just in time for my window to be slid open from the outside, not noticing the blur of silver metal and flesh in my state of panic. I was on the verge of picking up the lamp that sat next to my bed to whack the creature with, before the all too familiar figure hopped onto my windowsill and the fear that I was feeling was alleviated.

Bucky motherfucking Barnes.

He held his hands out to me, like he was surrendering, but he still had this grin on his face that he knew could make me melt. I hated him for not knocking, even though I knew that he didn’t knock, that he never had and probably never would. He simply let himself in, and, most nights - all nights - I was okay with that.

“Hey.” Bucky said. He said it so passively, like he hadn't just climbed twelve floors so that he could crawl through my window. Like he hadn't just done it without breaking a sweat. Like this wasn't the first time I'd seen him in almost a month, and it wasn't nearly four AM.

"What are you doing?" I sighed. I sat back down and admired him in his place, with his back against the window frame. He was attractive at all times, from all angles, but I liked him best in the low light of the early hours of the morning. The hollows of his cheekbones and jaw seemed more visible, chiseled, and his skin seemed perfect and unflawed. It was almost like the scars and blemishes that he'd acquired from past missions and suchlike simply ceased to exist. His eyes seemed brighter, more blue, with the way that the dim light reflected in them.

"I know you're probably mad." He pulled one knee up to his chest, circling his arms around it, and stretched his other leg out so that his foot was touching the other side of the window frame. "I don't expect you to be fine with me. Was on a mission, three weeks long, that's why I haven't been around. I know it's late, but I needed to see you as soon as I could."

I stayed quiet as I tilted my head back to look up at the ceiling. There were little patterns on it that I hadn't noticed before. They were faint, because the building was old, and I tried to decipher what they might be. I made a mental note to myself to try to figure out what they were at some other point.

"I would've called, but I was pretty badly hurt and tired most nights. Thought seeing me like that might've upset you." Bucky continued, but I still didn't speak. I didn't want to. I thought maybe I wanted to be mad, wanted some reason to be, but now that he'd given me nothing, I decided to do the same.

"Can you say something? Anything, please?"

I took a shaky breath. It was supposed to be deep, long, but my lungs felt shallow and like they had shrunk in capacity. "I would've liked it if you'd called. Would've been nice to see you."

I was being cold with him and I knew that I was, it was no coincidence and certainly no accident. My eyes were still fixated on the ceiling, trying to concentrate on the unknown patterns instead of Bucky. "Would've been nice to see me?"

I nodded, feeling stupid and like I could've cried, and Bucky scoffed in response. "Tell me, you think it would've been nice to see this?"

Bucky's flesh hand went to the side of his burgundy shirt, which I had seen before, and pulled it up just enough for me to see a large, swollen, red gash on his side. I knew that he'd been slashed by a knife, just from the look of it, but I looked away because I didn't want to see it.

I blinked down at my lap, and shook my head, at a loss for words and really just wanting to go to sleep. It was getting light outside, the intensity of the bird's screeching and bickering becoming increasingly more as the conversation went on.

"Of course you don't. Why would you?" Bucky sounded angry, like I'd personally offended him by not wanting to see the obscene laceration to his side.

"You could've still called. It's not obligatory for you to show me your wounds, in all of their glory."

"I heal overnight, sweetheart. If you get in a fight with someone, and they pull a knife on you, you're always left with more than one cut. And let's not forget that we never had any time to shower, so I was all dust and dirt and dried blood, plus a few stab wounds. Couldn't speak for a week, either, stabbed in the base of the neck and severed my vocal chords. Dr Cho managed to fix 'em up." Bucky had been staring out of the window, at the sky, which was orange and blue due to the rising sun, for the entire time that we'd been speaking. He hadn't looked at me at all, like he was trying to keep his composure and, if he saw my face, he'd lose it.

"Tell me, honestly, would you have wanted to see me like that?" I loved his voice. It was raspy and deep, but still managed to relax me, even when his words were harsh. Hearing him speak took me back to countless nights in my bed, when I'd be woken up by nightmares and Bucky would lull me back to sleep by simply telling me one of his stories from the 1940s. I was like a baby, latching onto his every word until they blurred together, became one, and I fell asleep in his arms.

"You could've texted." I said, lamely.

"Sorry."

"Don't be." I was done with the argument, and I made that clear in my voice and in my words. I wasn't unbothered by the situation at hand, that he hadn't visited, or called, that he'd seemingly forgotten about my existence and fallen off the face of the earth for three weeks, but I was so tired. All I could think about was going to sleep, but I wanted Bucky to be there beside me when I did.

"Are we okay now?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, and a smirk adorned his face as he took his first look of the night in my direction. It wasn't a big gesture, but the look that he had about him made my heart flutter and beat erratically within the confines of my chest.

I smiled and lay back on my bed, with my hands clasped over my abdomen, ankles crossed, and head lulled back into the white pillows that were placed at the headboard. "Get changed and come here." I pointed to the white dresser that sat at the foot of my bed, and Bucky knew that I was asking him to stay the night, but he didn't seem to want to leave.

He got up, and I heard the heavy thumps of his combat boots against the floor. His footsteps were so loud and it was so late that I was sure that the couple who lived in the apartment directly below mine would complain about the noise the next morning. I heard Bucky opening the drawer, the one that was inexplicably his drawer, and I propped my head up on my hand to watch him.

He peeled his shirt off, inspected the gash on his side — which was already beginning to knit itself shut — and then discarded of his cargo pants and black boots somewhere on the floor of my bedroom. I didn't mind, instead, I watched the muscles in his back flex deliciously as he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts that I kept for when he stayed over.

I had one of his shirts, but he didn't bother putting it on for whatever reason, tiredness or just a general lack of desire to wear one. "It's rude to stare." He turned around, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he crawled towards me from the end of my bed.

Bucky placed a hand on my stomach, hiking up the big shirt that I was wearing so that he could press a kiss to the space above my belly button, the space below it, my hipbones over the pink and white cotton panties that I had on, the insides and outsides of my thighs, the backs of my knees. And then he pushed my legs open and lay between them, sighing as he buried his face in my chest.

One of my hands found his long, dark hair, which was freshly washed and smelled like apples, and the other found his jaw, clean shaven, soft.

"It's four in the morning." My fingers massaged Bucky's scalp while I stated the nonsensical words. I was unaware of what they were supposed to mean, what I wanted him to take from them, but I allowed him to interpret them in whatever way he wanted.

"Mm." Bucky hummed, like he was content or half-asleep, and then he propped his chin lightly on my stomach and looked up at me through his thick, dark lashes. His eyes were so striking that I couldn't help the way that my breath hitched, the way my tongue came out to wet my bottom lip, the way that I felt like butterflies were going berserk in my stomach. "What, you wanna sleep?"

“If that's not too much to ask." I giggled, watching intently as Bucky's eyes flicked over my face and his lips twitched in a tiny smile. He shook his head and kissed my collarbone, before rolling off of me and onto his side. I turned over to face him, and he held my face in his hands and smiled.

"'Course not. I haven't slept properly in weeks." He tugged my face towards his, looked at me with that lopsided grin that set butterflies loose in my stomach, and then captured my lips with his own. It was a sloppy kiss, one that indicated how tired we both were, but it felt nice. Nice to have him back, nice to have finally stopped arguing, nice to be laying in his arms. It just felt nice.

Bucky pulled back, as if to admire me in all of my half-asleep-messy-haired glory, and grinned lazily. “Goodnight, beautiful.” He dragged the comforter up to both of our chins and pulled me close, kissing me on the forehead then. “Sweet dreams.”

I sighed happily, the relief of Bucky being there making my heart swell. It was the same relief that came with Bucky’s return from any mission, whether it was long or short, or whether he had contacted me during it or not. I’d missed him - I always missed him - as much as I liked to pretend that I didn’t.

But he was home, he was here, and he made it clear that he wasn’t going anywhere.

[unohanadaydreams]

Hello again! I'm probably gonna chuck a few different asks at ya but first I wanted to invite that ramble on Mayuri and the dynamic he has with Jizo or about him in general if you'd like~ I'd love to read more character analysis about our fave clown scientist.

I am reserving my spot to over analyze Mayuri. It’s very rambly sorry.

Okay, so Jizo is a protector of people/deceased souls of children.

This tells us a few things.

1. Mayuri is protected by Jizo.

2. Mayuri craves protection.

3. Mayuri either died as a child or went through something traumatic enough as a child that it immediately ended with the event aka. the metaphorical death of childhood. My guess is on the latter.

Mayuri is protected by Jizo through the obvious means of poison. But also by his zanpakuto itself. Jizo’s appearance and abilities are off putting. This heavily reflects Mayuri--his appearance and abilities (extendo arm, ect) are off putting to most people.

I believe Mayuri calls attention to himself through his appearance, while also masking himself in strange, off putting attire so that people do not look TOO close. They see what he wants them too.

And likewise, people see what they want out of Jizo, while ignoring the meaning of the zanpakuto’s name and TRUE nature. Jizo is part of a shield Mayuri has constructed to hide his vulnerabilities as a person with feelings and flaws. (He refuses to alter his brain in the same way he alters his body bc Intellect)

Mayuri craves protection and it’s evident in how he raises Nemu as well as how he attacks others AS WELL as how he treats Jizo. Nemu, from the very start, bodily shields him even when it isn’t explicitly necessary. She was created by him and therefore her feelings of gladness for him continuing to live and her arc of understanding that her true objective was ALWAYS to protect him was pretty fitting.

Mayuri can not even face let alone acknowledge his love for his daugther until she is dead and he does so vaguely, merely calling her a great Experiment. His kindness was relayed only through Akon and even then, he does not refer to her as anything other than an accomplishment to lord over Urahara (which like BIG LMAO).

Literally admitting to Nemu that he even viewed her as his biggest accomplishment, as one would speak about an object, was embarrassing for him.

He straight up can’t admit he is PROUD of making Nemu because that would imply he in any way cares about her. Fucking astounding, the lengths he will go through to deny he knows what affection or love or anything approaching those emotions are.

With his attacks--he often uses methods physically impede his opponents from approaching him. He prefers long range or ‘stealth’ methods. Blowing up his own people, stabbing opponents through Nemu, ect. He does not have any large, impressive displays of sword fighting. He prefer to flex his mind and be creative in proving he is Superior to others.

And with Jizo, he literally punishes his sword for attacking him. While many captains would understand that an enemies abilities were at fault, Mayuri isn’t one of them.

He snaps off Jizo in Szayelaporro’s body and states directly that it’s because the sword attacked him. Obviously there is a large theme of ‘control’ going on here in tandem with his need to be protected. But nevertheless: he purposely breaks his sword like a kid having a tantrum that caretaker didn’t keep them from scraping their knee.

Mayuri’s childhood ended suddenly/early or he simply never had one. It was gone before he realized he should’ve had one, maybe.

This is evident in how he treats Nemu, yes, but also how he treats Akon. From the very start, Akon is not treated with the same kiddy gloves we see Hiyori, Nanao, or even Byakuya given in the pendulum arc. And Mayuri isn’t even fully in control here.

And that’s not even getting into how Urahara releasing Mayuri with no further consequence or stipulation and then leaving him the research & development center was essentially rewarding whatever behavior got him in isolation within the Maggot’s Nest and is the start of his decent into what he be becomes.

Or that Urahara knowing he was down there means he knew what he did and knew that only the promise of Control and Power would sway him out--presumably a promise to restore or trump what he lost when arrested.

It’s further evident in how he acts as a person. He explains things to excess, a sign he did not feel listened to or his opinion valued as a child, and will go off if he feels ignored.

He is quick to throw literal foot stamping fucking fits. Like a toddler. Over small things. He seeks approval from people like Urahara and intellectual opponents alike--he wants it to be acknowledge that he is Smarter.

Trauma wise, he has low empathy for others and the people he does care about are still treated like shit. This is VERY common for abused children. He does not value his physical form. He’ll turn himself into fucking goo--he doesn’t care. That goes beyond ‘scientific improvement’ and straight into ‘i have only been valued and validated for my intellect so that’s all that matters’.

He also hides his physical body behind clothes baggier even than the soul reaper uniform already is, paints over his skin, and generally wears eye catching clothes that distract from HIM. Making one’s body repulsive and offputting is specifically a common response to sexual abuse.

Which would also help to explain his adversity to affection tbh.

It’s very possible that all of this happened while he was a living soul and his arrival to the rukongai was after for a further and more literal interpretation of ‘deceased soul’.

ALSO Look at literally anything the science department designs and tell me it doesn’t fall into the following categories: 1. edgy my chemical romance teen who reads cosmic horror or 2. legitimately cute and child friendly designs that activate your Animal Crossing brain.

IN conclusion:

Mayuri was abused, he craves protection, he finds any form of emotion that pertains to human connection horrible, he portrays only valuing intellect, and Jizo is not ironically named such.

I DEFINITELY went off on some tangents but uuuuuuuh (:

[superredcorp]

SUPERCORP FANFIC

When Alex received a message from Kara which told her to "Come quick!! Emergency!!", she was ready for everything but this.

She had kicked down the door to Kara's appartement, two agents trailing behind her. All three of them had their weapons raised and were ready to shoot what- or whoever was causing trouble.

However they didn't encounter any villain, any attacker, any threat. They just came face to face with Kara who stared at them, wide eyed and with a dropped jaw. She stood in a mess of clothes scattered across the floor and was currently holding up one shirt to her body.

Which had been when the door suddenly broke down and she was startled into a shocked trance, gaping at the three guns pointed at her.

Those were now slowly lowered but still at the ready, just in case.

Alex's eyes shifted around hastily as she frowned. "Where's the attacker?"

"What attacker?", Kara asked, confused.

"Well, someone or something must have attacked you! You said it's an emergency!"

Kara blushed a deep shade of red. "Oh. That. Yeah, about that-"

Alex looked from her sister down to the pile of clothes and back to her sister. Her face hardened and she squinted her eyes. "Please don't tell me that the emergency is not knowing what to wear to your date with Lena this evening."

Kara just smiled sheepishly. Alex groaned. "Kara!"

"I'm sorry!", she exclaimed, high-pitched. "But this is a fashion disaster! I have literally nothing to wear!"

"She says as she's standing in almost the entire content of her closet.", Alex commented as she rolled her eyes. She shook her head and with a hand movement, she ordered the two DEO agents to leave.

She tested whether the door would still be able to close properly after having been kicked open and when she found that it did, with some slight difficulties, she closed it and turned back around.

"I swear to god, Kara, don't ever do this to me again.", Alex said, walking over to her and poking her sister in the side with her index finger, making Kara shriek and step a few steps back.

Then Alex crouched down to the pile of clothes on the floor. "Now, let's see what you have here."

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

When Lena heard the knock on the door, she was sure it would be Nia and Kelly. She had texted them with the help of her phone's new software and asked them if they were willing to help her get ready for her date with Kara.

She had been a little embarrassed by the request and it wasn't like she didn't know how to do it herself, even with her loss of eyesight. But she wanted to look the absolute best for Kara. She wanted to make sure that everything fit perfectly with each other. And since matching colors wasn't exactly something that belonged to her abilities anymore, she'd need to depend on the help.

However when she opened the door, she wasn't greeted with the voices of Nia and Kelly. Instead she heard her brother's voice. "Well, hello there. I'd say it's nice to see you again but I guess that would be a little insensitive."

Lena clenched her jaw. All she wanted to do was slam the door right back into his face but she felt like she was frozen on the spot. Then she felt something brush against her, indicating that he had invited himself in. She groaned, closing the door and turning around into the rough direction where she assumed him to be.

'What do you want, Lex?"

"Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to pay you a visit?"

"No, not really.", she said, crossing her arms.

"Eh, it was worth the shot."

"Just get to it. Are you here to tell me you've discovered something to magically fix my eyesight? Oh, and the condition is that I help you kill Kara?"

"Sorry to disappoint but no. I've read your medical report. The damage is irreparable.", Lex said, almost nonchalantly as if he was discussing the weather. "And considering the most recent news, you wouldn't be willing to hurt Kara Danvers anyway. I must say your taste in love interests is rather disappointing."

How ever Lex had been able to figure that out. There hadn't been any stories or reports on her love life since her latest public statement where she denied dating Kara. Their kiss had only been two days ago and she hadn't been outside with her yet, so how he got the information that they were now indeed dating was a mystery.

"Well, I live to disappoint.", Lena said sarcastically but with a hint of bitterness. "Why are you here, Lex?"

"I'm here to offer you a job. At the DEO."

Lena hadn't expected that one. She raised an eyebrow. "And why the hell would I want that?"

"Oh, please. We both know you're not one to sit and lounge around. You want to do things. You want to constantly improve yourself. And you obviously can't do that at L-Corp now anymore. It's probably going to take years until it's back to the way it once was.", Lex exclaimed. "You may not be able to see but your brain is still perfectly intact, isn't it? And it's a smart one, too. You could be useful at the DEO, in the scientific field."

"You'd let a blind person into the DEO laboratories?"

"I'm certain that you are perfectly capable of working and not blowing anything up. Do you have the same faith in yourself?", Lex stated.

Lena frowned, confused by his words, not able to interpret whether he was truthful or not.

"The offer stands and doesn't expire. Just consider it.", Lex said and footsteps told Lena that he was walking towards her, towards the direction of the door.

That was it? He went out of his way to visit her and that was all he needed to say?

She felt him halting next to her as his shoulder brushed her's. There was silence between them for a while, then he quietly spoke again.

"You may not believe me but I really am sorry for what happened, Lena. For not being there."

Then he left and Lena swallowed. Her heart pounded quickly inside her chest. She was doubtful. She didn't want to, couldn't, believe that he was truthful, though his voice sounded sincere to her. But he was a good actor, he could easily be faking it and be following an ulterior motive.

She didn't have much more time to think about it though since just a few minutes later, there was another knock on the door and this time she was greeted by Nia and Kelly who were very excited to be helping her get ready for her date in a few hours which she had almost forgotten because of the emotional turmoil, Lex put her through.

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

When 7 p.m. rolled around, Kara nervously knocked. She was really going on a date. On a date with Lena, the woman of her dreams, her best friend and crush of several years - her girlfriend.

She still couldn't really wrap her head around it. She felt so incredibly lucky.

Kelly opened the door with a bright smile. "Hey, Kara. Lena's coming right up. Nia's just making some last adjustments on the make-up. She said it's absolutely necessary."

Kara smiled and nodded.

Then Lena finally stepped into the room, Nia's hand was placed on her arm as the younger woman guided her to where Kara was standing. Kara forgot how to breathe for a few seconds upon seeing Lena.

"Hi.", she brought out when Lena came to a halt in front of her.

"Hi.", Lena smiled.

She was wearing a dark blue suit, her hair was beautifully made. Her eyes were hidden behind a dark pair of sunglasses.

Kara was also wearing blue - a blue dress. Kelly and Alex had talked on the phone about their clothes so they could make sure they matched colorwise.

"Oh Rao.", Kara swallowed, unconsciouly adding in a whisper: "Zrhueiao."

Lena tilted her head in curiosity. "That's kryptonian, isn't it? What does that mean?"

"Oh, I- uhm. It means "beautiful". You look beautiful.", Kara stated. Then her eyes widened. "Not that you don't usually look beautiful. You're always so beautiful. It's just that- Oh Rao."

Lena chuckled at Kara's rambling. Though she had to admit to herself that hearing Kara speak kryptonian was really hot.

"Thank you.", she said quietly. "I- I'm sure you look great too."

Kara chewed on her lip, then shook her head and swallowed before asking: "Should we go?"

Lena nodded, raising her arm so that Kara could link in and guide her outside.

Kelly and Nia now made their way to the door too after having the watched the two with big smiles.

While passing them and throwing them a quick goodbye, there was a whispered "They're so adorable together" to be heard from Nia, making Kara and Lena blush.

When they were gone, the two of them left too - both incredibly excited.