#like yes he did initially stop him. to prevent a fucking war.

[brucie-baby]

[Clark about Joker: "Batman, he's all yours."]

genuinely cannot stress how important this one line is to me in the whole 'superman stopped bruce from killing joker' conversation

[endwithajadestrick]

Who Is Fucking In Star Wars? A Non-Comprehensive List

So in honor(?) of the DDoS attack on Ao3 preventing us all from mainlining slash fic, I've decided to go horny on main and list off my opinion about 3 traits of all Star Wars characters. Our beloved Galaxy Far Far Away is a usually (tragically) chaste place, which may lead us to ponder about our faves:

Do they even know what sex is?

Have they ever actually HAD sex?

Are they any good at it?

We will not be including characters who are minors in this list. Obviously. Judgements are based somewhat on the lore, but really more on vibes. Perhaps it goes without saying, this will be lightly NSFW.

This is probably gonna take a while and stop feeling like a good idea halfway through. Which of your exes does that describe? Let's Go!!!

Starting with the big three:

Han Solo

Always begin with an easy one.

Does he even know what sex is? Yes, unlike a surprising number of people in this galaxy, Han knows how to do the do.

Has he ever had sex before? Sure (but not as often as he wants you to think). Do you, uh . . . maybe wanna get out of here and come back to his ship? She's called the Millenium Falcon.

Is he good at sex? Look. It's not going to be good the first time. He's gonna keep insisting that he "knows what he's doing," but you wish he would just let you explain what you like. He needs to be girlbossed around a little bit. And it is mostly girls for him, though the occasional guy and non-binary being has mounted that loading ramp too. His bedroom does smell kind of funny.

Luke Skywalker

This one may be controversial for some people.

Does he know what sex is? Nope. Farm boy didn't go to schmool. Skool? Am I saying that right? There were no copies of Our Bodies, Our Selves lying around the rebellion base, and you better believe the Sacred Jedi Texts did not include some kind of version of the Space Kama Sutra. Han wasn't gonna draw him a diagram either; that would be too embarrassing. This man is not learned in the pleasures of the flesh.

Has he ever had sex? Also no. He got into some light over-the-clothes action with Biggs Darklighter when they were teens, but nothing ever went any farther than that.

Is he good at sex? I'm sure a real earnest effort would be made, but we'll never know, will we. Because he DOES NOT KNOW what sex is.

Princess/General Leia Organa

Does she even know what sex is? Oh, absolutely. This woman was treated to an actual formal education. She probably even got a nice, progressive version of SexEd that talked about pleasure and consent and not just all the weird diseases you could get--assuming the Empire didn't nix that sort of thing on Alderaan, which, honestly, they might have.

Has she ever had sex? Of course. And despite being a princess, she's not that precious about courtship either. Casual flings are totally fine and normal.

Is she good at sex? Leia is mature but, like her hairstyles, can be a little tightly wound. Once you get over any initial awkwardness, though, it's sure to be a fun flirty time.

And this is Star Wars, so sooner or later we have to address--

Chewbacca

--the aliens of it all. Welcome, monster fuckers! It's not even weird in this universe!

Does he know what sex is? Chewy is canonically 234 years old as of TLJ, so I'm going to give this a definite yes. Also, he hangs out with Han Solo and all the doors in this universe appear to be panel-controlled. There are no door knobs to stick a sock on; he's SEEN some things.

Has he ever had sex? Again, 234 years old, and Chewy has never seemed like a wallflower. This is also a yes.

Is he good at it? Maz Kanata seems to think so? I don't pretend I have the predilections/imagination to get the appeal (though I honor those that do), but I'm gonna take a swing and say, yes, Chewbacca is a good lover. Solid stamina, surprisingly tender after-care.

Lando Calrissian

Does he know what sex is? Yes, and not just on a mechanical level. If anyone in this universe HAS read the Space Kama Sutra, it's Lando.

Has he ever had sex? He has. And he doesn't keep a list of all his past sexual partners because that would be crass. But he COULD tell you about each of them, names, dates, locations. But he won't. But he could.

Is he good at it? Surprisingly, yes! He may come across as a guy who is all talk, but Lando is an artist at heart and the democratically elected President of Consent. He has mood lighting set up and a tastefully curated playlist. The atmosphere is fun, the oral is enthusiastic. When you're done--wow!--there's a mini bar right near the bed. And would you like to borrow a silk robe?

Your magical evening will not prevent him from cheating you at cards later, though.

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Does he know what sex is? No. He learned once, but has since memory-holed the information. Otherwise he might accidentally experience some pleasure from the stick up his bum.

Has he ever had sex? Many beings have made valiant efforts to claim this beautiful man as a conquest. All have failed, but there was much exquisite yearning along the way.

Is he good at it? Hypothetically? Alas, my heart wants to say yes, but my head says no.

Padmé Amidala

Does she know what sex is? Look at this dress. This dress is a CHOICE, a ruthless tactical decision made by someone who definitely knows what sex is.

Has she ever had sex? Yes, but her taste in men--oh, honey.

Is she good at it? A pillow princess if there ever was one. You will be doing all the work.

Anakin Skywalker

Does he know what sex is? No.

Has he ever had sex? Yes.

Is he good at it? . . . and I know those answers seem contradictory, but it's true. This is a man who has had normal, consensual adult sex. However, baby boy's brain is full of more holes than a colander. He is dummy thick actually in the head region. He is incapable of retaining complex thoughts such as the nuances of sexuality.

That said, he is a creature of pure instinct and, like, yeah, the lovemaking is pretty hot.

Mace Windu

Does he know what sex is? Yes.

Has he ever had sex? No.

Is he good at it? If it ever happened, which it won't? No, and Mace is possibly the only Sammy J character for whom this holds true. It would be strictly procreative missionary. No fun allowed.

Yoda

Does he know what sex is? Yes, he is aware. Knowledge is this little frog man's burden; Yoda is too in touch with the Force, the life energy of the universe, not to know. He WOULD not know if he could, but he has had to settle for just ignoring the information.

Has he ever had sex? You know I am genuinely stumped on this one. On one hand, he is the perfect ascetic Jedi sage. On the other hand, a nine hundred year lifespan is a long time . . . anything could have happened to this lilliputian enigma.

Is he good at it? Size matters not.

The Mandalorian

Yeah I know his name is "Din Djarin." Shush.

Does he know what sex is? I'm pretty sure this guy thinks that babies are found, not made. He does not know what sex is.

Has he ever had sex? I don't care what season one implied about Mando and that toothsome twi'lek, it's never happened. The helmet doesn't come off and the trousers don't drop.

Is he good at it? And here's the tragedy of it all, right? Because we know that underneath that impenetrable layer of beskar lies such a man. I don't even care if he's an ace, as seems plausible. Just the chance to look him in the eye would mean worlds.

Finn

Does he know what sex is? Negative, Ghost Rider. It's not something the First Order teaches their child soldiers, and the Resistance, like the rebellion of old, has bigger fish to fry. Poe wants to explain it to him, but feels like he has a dog in that race and it wouldn't be right.

Has he ever had sex? Men, women, and other beings are lining up around the corner for a shot at this man, but he only has eyes for one woman, and she in turn may be legitimately the only person in the galaxy who does not pine for him. Hang in there, Finn! Maybe one day she'll become emotionally available.

Is he good at it? While we have seen Finn makes some selfish moves along his journey--mainly because of, y'know, all the trauma--he has done a lot of growing and is an essentially generous spirit. This gets a yes.

Rey Skywalker

Does she know what sex is? Not in either The Force Awakens or The Last Jedi, but before Rise of Skywalker Leia explained it to her. She's the future of the Jedi after all, and this is basic stuff, goddammit Luke!

Has she ever had sex? Hmm, what's that? Sorry, she's super busy right now with, like, destiny and stuff.

Is she good at it? Rey seems to pick most things up fairly quickly, so you have to imagine that would hold true for l'amour as well, except that she'll also be a bit of a try-hard. Do less, sweety. Really, it's fine.

Lightning Round

Asajj Ventress

Yes, yes, and it depends on the answer to one question: do you enjoy pain?

L3-37

It Works.

Cinta Kaz

Yes, yes, and not just good but so good it will politically radicalize you.

Karis Nemik

No, which is a shame because you know that he would have made sex-positive feminism and queer theory a huge part of his manifesto.

Count Dooku

Gay, and pulled legendary numbers of exquisite vintage ass across the galaxy. It's the real reason Sidious traded him in for simple, pussy-whipped Anakin. He just couldn't take it anymore.

Luthen Rael

Hope you like role-play.

Armitage Hux

Yes, it's true; this man has no dick.

Qi'ra

Yes, yes, and good but maybe in a dangerous way? Like drugs, it's possible that you--maybe even most people--could have a healthy, well-adjusted relationship to it. But there's a chance also that it will alter your brain chemistry, fundamentally shift your priorities, and ruin your life. The only way for sure to be safe is not to try it, not even once!

The Bendu

The One in the Middle. So in this case, would that be, like, the taint?

Reva Sevander

I mean, do you like it freaky? How freaky do you like it? There are levels to this sort of thing, and you, through no fault of your own, may not be ready for this ride.

Cassian Andor

Cassian Andor fucks.

The Armorer

I tried to get a read on this one, and all I picked up was radio static. We'll never know. We'll just never know.

Rose Tico

Rose appears naive at first, but she's actually quite worldly and will rock yours.

Bo-Katan Kryze

I daresay more than 2% of us want her to sit on our face. Ms. Sackoff was really lowballing it. Bo does not know what sex is, however, and is rarely in listening-mode, so that's a hurdle we'll have to overcome.

But it's more than 2%.

Poe Dameron

Yes, yes, and does it even matter? It would be an honor just to be considered, sir.

Hera Syndulla

Whatever Lola wants, Lola gets. Apparently what Lola wants is an inexperienced, sexually repressed Jedi hotty. In this way, she is the true queen of Star Wars fandom. Captain our ship, Hera!

And Finally:

Kylo Ren

I do not understand the hold this man has on some of you--which is fine; you don't need me to understand it. He does not know what sex is, he is so horny and angry all the time. And sure, maybe you CAN fix him by completing his education. Blessings, angels. Live your fantasy.

Just promise me you'll use protection? And I don't mean a condom, I mean body armor.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Garden of Secrets

Yes??? I’m super glad I have this request because I recently read some fantastic Shouto x Reader scenarios and have been in a real half n’ half kick! But...I have a fuckton of requests, so I refused to let my eager dumbass ask for more until I get through these ones!

I really hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think and have a great day!

(I am so so so so sorry that the banner took me so fucking long to make...I’m picky with that sort of thing...haha)

🥃 AO3 🥃 || ✉️My Askbox✉️ || 💬Discord💬

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 “I’m not hearing another word about this Shouto. You will marry the princess in two months’ time for the prosperity of our land. End of discussion.”

 .

 Shouto frowned as he stared across the carriage at his father, thoroughly displeased with the conclusion the argument that had been going on ever since he had first heard about the arrangement a month prior.

 To say that he hated the idea of his father’s plan would be an understatement. His father was putting him in the very same position that his mother’s parents had put her in when his father came to them for her hand in marriage; Shouto had always despised his father and how his mother had ended up, being put in the same position was terrible.

 “We’re here…behave yourself and get used to the idea that this woman will be your new bride.” Enji muttered the words under his breath as their guard opened the door to the carriage, leaving Shouto behind as he went on ahead to greet the Queen of the land; the mother to Shouto’s new bride.

 “My lord…?” Shouto turned his head to look at the guard before sighing quietly to himself and climbing out of the stuffy carriage, glad to be out in the open air; a refreshing change compared to the past few days that he had spent stuck in there with his father.

 “I’m fine. Thank you.” He glanced towards the guard before following after his father and king, well-aware that any tardiness when meeting the Queen and Princess of the land wouldn’t be tolerated; it would be seen as an insult towards them and possibly cause a war. Many would perish if such a thing were to happen and given that his home was originally his mother’s lands, Shouto would prefer to keep any innocent lives safe.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 “Ah…here she is, (Name), come greet our honoured guests. King Enji and his son, your future husband; Prince Shouto.”

 .

 You blinked in surprise as you stepped into the throne room, curious gaze lingering on your mother before dropping down towards the two men that stood nearby; one an angry looking man that looked as if he were a tyrant and the other. A young man, looking to be close to your age, a shocked expression plastered over his scarred face; mirroring your own look of surprise.

 Your heart raced as you approached your mother, keeping your eyes on the young man that had been announced your future husband-to-be; in any other occasion you would protest to the idea of being married off. However, it was impossible to deny your attracting to him; you could do worse, that much was certain.

 You had seen the men your mother had been considering before now. All older than you, pigs and old fools that wanted strong heirs.

 .

 “(Name).”

 .

 You were ripped away from your thoughts by the sharp tone of your mother’s voice, causing you to look back towards her with a pleasant smile gracing your red stained lips; a fake, of course, but enough to keep you out of trouble.

 “My apologies Mother.” You paused, speaking softly as you turned to face the two guests, curtsying out of respect to their positions. The last thing you wanted to do was cause troubles between the two rulers, to anger another ruler would be foolish when such simple acts could be done to prevent such tension.

 “It is a pleasure to meet you” You kept your greeting short before standing gracefully and turning back to your mother, needing an excuse to be allowed to leave the room; anything to go back to your previously care-free mood of the day.

 “Mother, may I return to the gardens now?” She narrowed her eyes at your request, staring at you for a moment before turning her gaze towards the young man known as Shouto; a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Never a good sign when it regarded one of your requests.

 “You may, it will do you some good to get acquainted with your husband-to-be. Take him with you and mind your manners (Name)…they are our guests and I hope you will remember that.” You nodded your head in understanding with an inaudible sigh, glancing towards Shouto as a sign for him to follow after you; wanting to waste no time in leaving the elder rulers to their own devices.

 “If you would follow me…”

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 You moaned out softly as Shouto trailed harsh bites along your sensitive neck, his hands above your head, pinning your wrists to the ground while his hips pressed flush against your own; stretching you with his throbbing cock.

 It was a strange situation. One minute, you were showing him around the gardens, giving a polite guide and making idle chatter; the next minute, you had fallen into the large pond that your mother had installed in the garden and Shouto was helping you out; his gaze lingering over your soaked form, your clothes clinging to you in an all too flattering way.

 After that, everything had moved so quickly. Just a quiet utter of a compliment from him and then suddenly you were hidden by the tall standing lilies by the pond’s edge, lips against skin, moans filtering through the quiet noises of nature; forbidden moments in motion.

 “Did I hurt you?” Your cheeks flushed as Shouto lifted his head to stare down into your gaze intently, a concerned frown decorating his features while his touches halted; giving you time to answer him with a clear mind. He was being frustratingly perfect for a man you should be trying not to marry; the idea of an arranged marriage had always been something you hated, but he was so very different to what you had imagined.

 “N-No…I’m fine Shouto…” You trailed off quietly while he leaned down towards you, giving a firm thrust of his hips in order to pull a surprised moan past your plump lips; the action making his lips twitch up into a heart-melting kind of smile. It wasn’t fair.

 “Good���hurting you is the last thing on my mind” His lips swallowed your moan as he began thrusting his hips roughly, large hands trailing down along your arms to your hips; pulling you closer to his body and making it easier for him to bury himself inside of you.

 You whined into the kiss softly when your lungs began to burn for the need of oxygen, gasping out and gulping in deep breaths the moment Shouto pulled his head away to instead busy his lips with your soft skin; groaning from the way you squeezed down around him.

 “God…we shouldn’t be doing this” You mumbled out the words before you could stop yourself, rocking your hips against his rough thrusts, moans spilling free while he lifted his gaze up to your face; his mouth closing around your pert nipple, hot tongue flicking over the sensitive bud.

 “We can stop if you want” You felt him smile against your skin when you shook your head in response to his muffled suggestion, moving your hands down to his strangely coloured hair; tangling your fingers into the soft locks and giving an encouraging tug.

 “No. No, don’t stop…” Your voice was a soft whisper drowned in the moans that he took great pride in pulling from your delectable lips, Shouto couldn’t even begin to explain why he had initiated such an action; a part of the reason would likely be that his father would be furious if he ever learned of such events before the wedding.

 However, he knew that it wasn’t the only reason, nor was it the main reason. Shouto couldn’t put his finger on it but everything with you, chatting idly in the gardens, helping you out of the pond; even kissing you in a moment of pure instinct. It all felt right.

 Like you belonged together.

 .

 “Good…I don’t know if I could stop now”

 .

 You arched your back as he moved his hips roughly, soft moans spilling free as Shouto sent wave after wave of pleasure coursing through your body; quickly becoming too much to handle as a strange sort of heat began to build in the pit of your stomach.

 Shouto groaned above you, thrusting his hips harshly and burying his head against your chest, nipping at the flesh between your breasts to distract himself; neither of you wanting to be too loud, lest you get caught by your parents.

 You whimpered out his name quietly as you bucked your hips, biting your lip to hold back the cry of pleasure that threatened to break free as pleasure flooded your system; your orgasm rocking through you.

 “(Name)…” Shouto muttered out your name in a low groan as he buried himself inside of you deeply, filling you with his hot seed.

[colorseeingchick]

Oh Baby! A Series (Tsukishima x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You and Tsukishima have been together for years- and pranking each other the whole way through. But what happens when one prank on Tsukki turns out to be a prank on you? 

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of pregnancy, fluff 

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N: This is my first fic! I hope you guys like it :) 

“This was the best you could do? Really?” You watch in horror as Tsukishima Kei, your husband of 5 years, holds the positive pregnancy test in his hand, a smug expression plastered across his face. 

Fuck. 

“Babe, this is like the oldest trick in the book. I’m pretty offended that you thought that this would fool me, of all things.” He shakes his head slowly and puts the test back in the bathroom drawer where you (thought you) had hidden it away from his sight. 

You stand there, processing the scenario as it had just played out before you. But that clearly wasn’t enough to sort out how genuinely screwed (ha pun intended) you were.  

How exactly did you end up here again? 

Tsukki had been pranking and roasting you for 12 years now- 1 year as your classmate, 1 year as your friend, 5 years as your boyfriend, and 5 as your husband. Yeah, your high school sweetheart was this sarcastic four-eyes. You were simple to read and gave theatrical reactions which perpetually egged him on to keep messing with you, and eventually led to him developing feelings for you. Despite how annoyed you were by him at first as well, you soon found yourself loving his quick wit and taunting personality. Though the roasts were intense, the pranks were always light. Tsukki made an effort to never push serious or sensitive topics, and he would NEVER try to pull anything when you were in a bad mood. The pranks went both ways as well- and you never felt more accomplished than when you managed to catch your clever boyfriend off guard. Teasing was a staple of your relationship and both of you loved it. But the jokes sometimes had you both a bit too on guard. When Tsukki proposed to you, you thought he was just pulling a more elaborate prank than usual (which led to you initially rejecting him AND causing a hell of a lot of confusion/fear/panic for Tsukishima...until the jokes were clearly set aside. At that point you JOYOUSLY accepted the ring from him, but that’s a story for another day). Looking back on it, you always loved lecturing him on how it was his fault for always playing tricks on you, and that he can’t blame you for not believing him right away. 

But OH! How the tables have turned. 

5 years into your marriage, and the pranks haven’t gone anywhere. However, Tsukki made a “New Years Resolution” to make fun of you more than he had in previous years [Read: Tsukki thinks New Years Resolutions are FAKE NEWS and has made a dumb one to mock the concept]. But considering it was meant to be a parody, he was pretty doing a damn good job of teasing you more than you had ever experienced. Your favorite mug *magically* ended up in the highest cabinet possible on a frequent basis, pieces of your strawberry shortcake would disappear soon after being frosted, and there were plenty of jump scares (which Tsukki went through the effort of recording every time). By the time March rolled around, you were VERY riled up (mind you, at no point had you ever actually attempted to tell Tsukki to stop) and promised Tsukki that you were going to pull the GREATEST prank in the history of your relationship as your grand move of revenge. You made an effort to remind him on a daily basis after that point, and both of your competitive natures came out. 

It was about three weeks after your initial declaration of revenge that you realized your period was quite overdue and morning sickness was setting in. You logically decided to take a pregnancy test. Low and behold, the test came back positive! 

You had known that Tsukishima was ready for children for quite some time now, honestly. He had mentioned it a few times, but you hadn’t felt ready or prepared to be a mom just yet. The man could read you like a book, so seeing distress or discomfort come up when he mentioned it- he would never want to make you feel pressured to have a baby. But after seeing the test, thinking about it (for a good while), and reflecting on your relationship and where you were in life, you felt like you were properly ready to be a mom. All that was left was for you to tell the dad-to-be. But seeing as you two were in a pranking WAR, you figured the timing wasn’t quite ideal just yet. Which is why you decided to hide the test and tell him after April 1st, as to prevent him from assuming you were pulling your grand prank with the pregnancy test. 

Never did you expect him to FIND the test on April Fools itself. If he had found it the days before, it would have been better than him finding it today. The one event you were trying to avoid was the only event to occur. As of right now, the world is playing a big prank on you. Though you definitely weren’t laughing. 

And I was ACTUALLY going to do the prank today, too! Ughh. You slide down your bathroom wall, contemplating where to even go with this. You could go through with your real prank, but at this point it felt excessively stupid in comparison to everything else going on. Right now, the priority was telling Tsukki the truth. You get up and rush downstairs, to where Tsukki was sitting on the couch, book in hand. 

“Kei, we need to talk.” You plop down next to him, casually placing one of your legs on top of his lap. 

He closes the book and tosses you one of his classic smirks, side eye and all. “Yes, Y/N?”

“Kei... I’m…” You grab his hand, “I’m actually pregnant.” 

He stares into your eyes, expression neutral. Meanwhile, your eyes dig daggers into him, as to say “I’m being DEAD serious you have to believe me or else.” 

He blinks a couple of times, smiles, and then raises the hand you put on top of his, sweetly kissing right below your knuckles. 

“I commend you for trying to rescue your prank, but you’re not gonna fool me like that.” He squeezes your hand before getting up and walking away to the kitchen, leaving you in absolute shock on the couch. He doesn’t believe me. Not even a little bit. 

Fuck. 

As the day goes on, you get more and more desperate to try and convince him of how you actually were now carrying his baby. And the more you try, the more he rejects the idea. Your last ditch effort is during dinner, when you make pancakes (breakfast for dinner was a Saturday specialty for you two) and you spell out “I have your CHILD” with chocolate chips on top of his stack. 

“You realize how out of context, this could be read a VERY different way, right?” He would have been fed up with how persistent you were being, if it wasn’t for how creative you were being about it. So instead, he was just thoroughly amused. 

You, on the other hand, are far from amused. Desperate, hopeless, and VERY irritated at the blond beanpole you called your husband, you aggressively stab your pancakes and eat in silence. 

I definitely set myself up for this, I’m not gonna lie. 

But there is only one way out, and that’s with fresh evidence. Right after finishing dinner, you leave the house and head to your local shop without saying a word to Tsukki. 

...She’s really sticking to it huh. Does she know that this isn’t as funny as she thinks it is? He thinks to himself as he sips on some warm milk while listening to some music and reading on the couch.

[Trust me Tsukki. She doesn’t think this is funny at all.]

Though you weren’t at the store for all that long, your husband managed to pass out on the couch (the milk made him sleepy). You sigh, shaking him into slight consciousness and dragging him up the stairs to your bedroom. As you push him onto the bed, he grabs your waist and tries to pull you onto him. He manages to get you close to his chest, and he nuzzles his nose into your neck, mostly asleep and searching for cuddles. For how irritating, snarky, and teasing your husband was, he was awfully affectionate and overwhelmingly sweet in moments like these. 

“Not yet, baby,” you whisper to his unconscious head, pulling his glasses off his face. “I have to prove how much of an idiot you are for not believing me. Then you get cuddles.” You wriggle yourself out of his grasp and head to the bathroom, taking another test to confirm what you already knew to be true. 

Sighing upon the sight of the two lines, you place this test in the drawer with the other one. “I’ll show him tomorrow when he’s awake and ready to face my wrath.” You smile mischievously while shutting the drawer.

You take care of some unfinished business in your house as it slowly hits 1 am. Exhausted, you eventually find yourself crawling into bed and under Tsukki’s arms, nuzzling into his chest as his arms instinctively encase you, your face tucking into the crook of his neck. 

How badly you wanted to stay upset at him. But it felt virtually impossible when he showered you with so much love. Being wrapped up in the warmth of his arms  quickly helped you drift off to sleep. 

---

You stirred back into consciousness at around 7 am,when the warmth that had wrapped around your body had disappeared, your husband not in sight. He usually woke up early on weekends to go run, so his absence wasn't surprising. Too groggy to worry or think straight, you instinctively get out of bed to go use the restroom as nausea shifts your stomach. However, when you approach the door frame of your master bathroom, you see Tsukki staring into the drawer, looking stiff as a statue. His face hidden, you could tell he’s deeply lost in thought. 

“Kei?” You ask softly, “ Love, is everything alri-”

He twists his body to face you, an unreadable expression adorning his strong and normally smug features. It scared you a little. 

“...Kei?” 

He reveals the two tests in his hands as he strides towards you, holding them directly in front of your line of sight. 

“Y/N, all jokes aside. Okay?”

You had a strong indication as to where this was going. “Okay.” 

“Are you really pregnant?” 

You paused for a second. Although the answer to the question was easy, there was a sudden fear that rose in your stomach upon hearing his tone. What if he was in denial because he didn’t want the baby? Would he be angry if he found out you were serious? But you were almost certain he would be as excited as you for the baby. 

Your pause of insecurity was accompanied by a blank expression that had Tsukki’s anticipation skyrocketing. He really wasn’t one to overthink. Thinking just the right amount was his specialty. He’s a rational guy. But you always managed to push that a little, and became the exception. 

“Y/N??” His hands grab your shoulders with a slight squeeze.

You jump back into reality as he calls your name. No matter what his reaction was, he would need to know the truth. You could do damage control after. 

“Yes. I really am pregnant, Kei. But if you don’t think we’re rea-”

“Is it mine?”

At this, you got pissed real fast. 

“The hell? Of course it’s yours, who else’s kid would it be what the hell do you thi-”

He engulfs you in a tight, crushing hug, pulling you against him entirely with his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. He lets out a shaky breath as he sways you side to side in his embrace. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m gonna be a dad.” Relief radiates off of him, and you could feel a genuine and innocent smile pressed against your skin. 

Now you felt like an idiot for even worrying about telling him the truth. 

You gently pull away from his body to look him in the eyes, his arms still draped around you. “Kei, why didn’t you believe me when I told you yesterday?” 

He looked away from you, eyes on the ground. “Whenever I tried to bring it up in the past, you seemed uncomfortable, and you’ve told me before that you aren’t sure if you were ready to be a mom… I thought that I was the only one who wanted a baby... So when you promised a grand prank for days on end, and I found a positive pregnancy test... I just assumed it was an intense prank and didn’t wanna get my hopes up.” Despite everything, Tsukki had never been the best at direct confrontation. You both were advocates of clear communication and drawing lines, yes, but sometimes, for your sake, he tried to accommodate. It warmed your heart and broke it at the same time to see him all soft and vulnerable, compared to his usual tough guy act. 

“Baka.” You pulled his face down to yours so your foreheads touched, his eyes having no option but to lock with yours. “I would never lie about something like this. We’ve always been good about keeping serious stuff serious, yeah?” 

He murmured in agreement as he slowly closed his eyes. 

You giggle. “You know me too well, though. For a long time I didn’t think I was ready. Even when I took the first test I had doubt in myself. But I thought about everything and… I think I’m ready to have this baby. If it's with you then, yeah. I’m ready.” 

He opens his eyes again just to stare at you for a long moment before saying, “You’re gonna be as weird a mom as you are a wife.” 

You smack his arm and scowl at him. He breaks out and laughs, “Don’t worry, our baby will probably be as weird as you, so it will be great.” Your scowl deepened. It’s his turn to grab your face and kiss your nose, staring at you with all the love in the world. “It's because you’re so weird that I love you so much. Who else would be able to throw back what I dish out AND amuse me at the same time?” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

You sigh, effectively flustered by his wacky compliment. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” His infamous smirk makes a reappearance and damn, are you a sucker for that smirk. 

“But-” you continue, “we really have set some ground rules from here on out. I thought your proposal would be the greatest mix-up in our relationship, but this is too close of a second.”

“Agreed.”

“And throughout this pregnancy you sure as hell better lay off on the teasing and pranks because I swear I will-” 

“I promise. I’ll be nice to you while you’re carrying our baby. I know- how absolutely uncharacteristic of me.” 

You roll your eyes, a smile sneaking onto your face. “Be careful, I might get used to it.” 

He rolls his eyes back, smiling as well. “So, truce?” 

“Truce.” 

He finally pulls away from you and walks as to exit your bedroom. “We’ll talk more about this later, I’m gonna go on my run for now. Do you know where my water bottle is by the way?” 

You lean against the door frame once again. “It should be in the office.” 

“Alright, I’ll let you know when I get back.”

You smiled to yourself, your stomach bubbling from nausea, yes, but also from happiness. How did you get so lucky with such a snarky beanpole? You had yet to figure it out. 

“OI Y/N!” You broke out of your thoughts again as Tsukki sprints up the stairs and essentially throws himself into your bedroom. 

“Yes?”

His face is completely awestruck, stuck in a state of shock and disbelief. 

“You wanna tell me why there are dinosaur stickers covering literally everything in my office?”

A mischievous grin slowly crawls across your face. 

His desk, chair, lamp, laptop, printer, and walls were plastered with dinosaur stickers. A flag with a dinosaur was hung behind his desk as well. (The visit to the shop the night before was the last of 5 trips you had made- you had gone to all sorts of stores to find jumbo stickers over the course of the past few weeks, because Tsukki would have seen packages if you ordered stickers online). 

“You couldn’t even spare my water bottle?” He lifts it, as to express his exasperation. 

The water bottle looked excessively stupid, as its usual blue service was covered with green baby dinos. 

“What happened to the truce?” He asks, still shocked. 

“I told you I would get my revenge.” The sass and pride was tangible in your voice. 

“Happy belated April Fool’s, Kei.”

[kyloswarstars]

The Shelby Family Teleported Through Time • Part 3

„Right Into a Viking War“

Peaky Blinders • Series AU • Shelby!Reader

It seemed like all of your siblings barely had any time left for the family. You wanted to fix it all up and get back to what the Shelby siblings once were. At the Lee’s campsite you are gifted an ‚enchanted amber‘, along with the promise that it would help you get closer to your siblings again. Never did you think it would teleport you into another time: being faced by more problems than before.

Words • 4.8k

A/N • Lemme know what you think about it 🌚

TSFTTT • masterlist

/////

The sky was pitch-black. If it wasn’t for the burning houses you wouldn’t have been able to see the person next to you. Flames were making their way out of every second house, eating thatched roofs and burning people alive. Lifeless bodies were covering the ground. Desperate screams filled your ears. The smell of burned flesh instantly creeped in your nose and this time, still with the twisted stomach of your time jump, you bent forward and vomited into a corner of the dark alley.

A hand was touching your back as you gagged. It helped you sit up and get to your feet. Finn. The flickering flames all around you were brightening his face. He looked deeply worried.

None of your siblings were up for any jokes or blaming you for sending them here. Fear was winning over and made everyone step closer together. Your brothers shoved Ada and you behind their backs.

People were running through the alleys. Some tried to run away, others were running after them. Swords in their hands, mud under their boots and blood that was glueing their long hair together into big chunks.

„Please tell me this is a role play again,“ Finn spoke.

Tommy reached down to one of the many bodies and grabbed the sword from their grip. „I don’t think so.“ He examined the weapon and observed the people running past your sibling pile. 

„Did anyone of us fight with a sword yet? Except for me last night?“ You were worried and instantly wished Boomer, Eliza and Otter would’ve taught you some role play yielding techniques.

„No. But I think we will soon gain some experience,“ Tom nodded to your right. Two men were fighting at the end of the alley you were still in. Every time their swords met a metallic clicking was echoing over to you. One of them was slowly gaining the upper hand and placed several thrusts on his opponent. It took him one swift stroke to chop the other one’s head off.

Your eyes didn’t close soon enough to prevent yourself from seeing the head fall to the floor and rolling away.

The winner was turning around, spotted you and hurried over, driven by his blood frenzy.

Arthur grabbed a sword up himself, just in time for when the stranger reached you. He brought it up into the air, his arms shaking with not being used to the weight of the sword. Metallic clicking was ringing in the air when their swords met. Your oldest brother tried to parry the hits but the stranger was a warrior. He did to Arthur what he was probably doing for a long time now.

You closed your eyes again. You couldn’t see Arthur’s head fall to the floor as he tried to protect his siblings. That was something you wouldn’t be able to forget for the rest of your life.

An extremely loud gunshot next to you let your eyes fly open again, though. John was standing there with the rifle to his shoulder. In the chaos of the moment you forgot he still had that gun.

Arthur’s opponent was sinking to the muddy ground. He was dead. „Gun fucks sword,“ John stated with the smallest of a smirk.

„Fuck!“ Arthur wasn’t able to keep himself on his feet. He knelt down next to the dead man. „Who is the fucking enemy here, eh? This guy?“ First he pointed at the body in front of him, then to the one without a head at the end of the alley. „Or that guy?“

„When are we, Tom?“ Ada was stirring beside you.

Tommy knelt down next to Arthur. „That one looks like a Viking to me.“

„Bloody Vikings?“ John was losing his shite agin. „Can’t we just go back to our friends with the cardboard swords?“ He came over to you, an arm around your shoulders. „Can you bring us somewhere else?“

You closed the fist around the amber but it was pointless. Within this mess you would never be able to concentrate.

Ada and Finn were talking to each other in low voices. She seemed to calm him down.

A sudden voice startled you. „Who the fuck are you guys?“ When you turned and saw an armoured man coming to a stop in the dark alley, Arthur, together with Tom this time, stood up and held the sword in front of him. The stranger was looking at you closer, almost a little amused. „Travel theatre?“

„Are you the enemy?“ Arthur was still shaking but that wouldn’t hold him back from taking a second try at sword fighting.

„Fuck no. I’m just trying to save my own arse and get away from here. So, travel theatre?“

„Yes.“ Ada called out. Was she trying to lead the conversation again? To be honest, she had done a pretty good job back in the 21st century.

For a while the stranger was checking the surroundings and then observed you and your siblings again. „If you’re fast runners I can help you out of town if you want.“

The chances to die in this burning shithole were fifty-fifty. You had to get out for a fair chance at teleporting you to another time, or hopefully home. Tom shot a glance at you with a question mark imprinted on his face. You just nodded.

„Ok,“ he said to the stranger. And to the rest of you: „Everyone grabs a sword.“ You did as you were told. You knelt down into the cold mud to one of the countless dead people. Their fingers were already stiff around the hilt. You forcefully removed them with a whispered ‚sorry‘ on your lips. When you got back up, you spotted their belt with the scabbard attached to it. Once again, you knelt down, unbuckled the belt and yanked it free from under the lifeless body.

With the belt around your waist, and when everyone else had a sword too, you hurried after the stranger. He led you out of this alley and through many other ones. So many slaughtered people were plastering the way, the blood had seeped out of their bodies. You were unable to tell what outweighed: blood or mud on the ground. 

Your pulse was roaring in your ears and made it hard to understand the stranger’s voice, whenever he told you to follow as he changed directions.

He took a detour through a burning house. Some flames suddenly burst down from the roof as you left the single room into the backyard. They almost caught over to your clothes but someone pushed you. You fell to the ground, the smell of burned hair in the air, but out of range for the flames.

„Y/N!“ Finn helped you up, checked you for burnings, then grabbed your hand when he didn’t find any and hurried with you after your siblings.

It felt like it was never ending. You kept running even when you made it to the last house. You kept running when you left the wall behind your backs, which initial purpose to protect the village had failed. The screams of dying people let your feet continue to run, even though they grew distant when you reached a forest nearby. The stranger willingly guided you in. He repeatedly cursed, whenever a branch hit his face in the darkness, and kept up the high pace. You hadn’t done nearly enough boxing sessions at King Maine’s to keep up with that. Not without your lungs feeling like they were close to give out. Which brought up the question as to why this man was so good with running. Maybe he was a thief and running away was part of his job.

At some point you fell into a jog instead of the running. It was easier that way but not less tiring. The trees and their shadows were constantly surrounding you. The sounds of cracking branches under your steps were fading but it didn’t fully reach you until you ran into one of your siblings.

The stranger had stopped and everyone else had too.

„This should be five miles. We should be good.“ At least his voice seemed exhausted as well.

„No one will come after us?“ You heard Arthur ask but couldn’t pin down which of the shadows was him.

„Not tonight,��� the stranger responded. „Not when there are still women to be taken, ale to be drank and silver to rip out of the church.“

John’s voice was as breathless as your lungs felt. „Who are they?“

„What do you mean?“ The stranger was laughing at him. „Those are the fucking Danes.“

„Vikings,“ John pointed out, probably remembering Tommy’s words back in the alley.

The stranger laughed again. „Doesn’t matter what name you call them. Fucking barbarians, all of them.“

This pitch-black night, in a time where Vikings were all over England, which probably wasn’t even England yet, was creeping into your bones. One hand was wrapped around the amber, your other hand around the hilt of your sword. You had put it in the scabbard and it was dangerously dragging you to one side, constantly letting yourself fight for your balance. That thing was way too heavy but you wouldn’t dare to loosen the belt and put it away. Not after what you had seen in the village.

You wanted to go home. So bad. Your fingers were tight around the amber and your eyes shut. No twist appeared in your stomach, no dizzying headache.

„Well, thank you for bringing us out. We’ll head our way then.“ Tommy’s voice was cutting through and ripped your focus from the amber.

„Who said you could go? I didn’t.“ The stranger laughed once again, but this time it didn’t sound that devilish. Maybe he was just amused with what stupid folks you were. „I helped you, now you’ll help me.“

You heard some noises from below. Leaves and branches getting brushed together. Some clicking soon after. Not that metallic clicking of swords, though, more dull.

When a small flame came to life, being ignited by the stranger, it was as intense as the sun during daytime. Your eyes were blinded for a while until you eventually got used to it. It was relieving to see the outlines of your siblings faces again.

„We’ll crash down here for tonight.“ He sat down next to the flame and shoved more branches to it to let the fire grow. „My name is Alfred and if you don’t want to say your names that’s alright. But you’ll help me steal a horse and some other necessities I need, so I can travel south to Wessex.“

Tommy didn’t sat down, so none of the other Shelby’s did either. „Is this theft involving fighting?“

„It might.“ The stranger with a name now, Alfred, got rid of his sword and tried to close his fur coat tighter around his body. Seeing him warm his hands at the fire, with the adrenaline in your veins slowly subsiding, the coldness kicked in and sent shivers from your feet all the way up to your neck.

„We don’t know how to yield a sword.“

„Then I’ll show you.“ Alfred slapped his hand to the ground next to him. „What are you waiting for? Sit down.“

Your siblings waited for Tommy to make a decision. Your mind was circling around the words ‚behave, adapt, survive‘. Alfred thought you were travel theatre people, so you should behave like some.

Tommy sat down and everyone followed his example. Him and Ada were trying their best to pretend you were who Alfred assumed you were. He was talking about the Danes who had come to raid the town and that he had been too long in the North already. He asked where you were originally from. Ada, even amid the exhaustion of this day, was giving the best answer possible: „We’re a travel theatre. We travel, we don’t have a home.“

„And you always carry your belongings with you in those tiny bags?“ Alfred referred to the plain jute bags Eliza had given to each one of you. You had stuffed the sweatpants, she had given to you, in yours. As well as two stones. You had picked up a pebble stone as you sat in the bushes when that Roman cohort was passing by. And one from the parking lot as you went grocery shopping with Eliza in the 21st century.

Tommy was still nervous. „We like to be prepared, which seems to be a good thing when Danes are suddenly appearing.“

„Clever, should’ve thought about that as well. Then you wouldn’t have to help me get new things.“ He was laughing at his own statement. You didn’t like him at all. Sure, you were thankful he had guided you out of the flames, but you didn’t like sitting on this cold soil around a fire with this stranger.

It seemed you didn’t really have a choice for now, though. 

You slid closer to Finn who sat next to you. The night was getting colder minute by minute as you didn’t move around anymore. He laid his arm around you and pulled you into him. It was a little better for a while, but once the cold took over your body completely, it didn’t leave you anymore. You froze with your teeth clattering and noticed your siblings doing the same. Alfred’s fire was as effective as a candle.

/////

When the sun rose and covered you in its light, the shivering, which had followed you all through the night, finally lessened. You were entangled with Ada and Finn under your coats. A couple of times you fell asleep, but each time not for very long. You always woke with the image of all those lifeless bodies on the ground. The sword you stole from one of them was laying at your feet. And when the first daylight had brightened the people around you, your eyes were fixed on Alfred. He laid knocked out on the cold ground like nothing had happened. How many of those raids did you have to witness for it to become less haunting? You didn’t really want to know the answer.

Arthur and John decided to hunt some breakfast right after they woke up. Your empty stomach was crying out demandingly when the word ‚breakfast‘ fell. Their commotion woke up the rest of your siblings and Alfred.

Ada and Finn removed themselves from your arms where they’d been sleeping in last night. Your limbs were hurting as you moved for the first time in hours, so you got up on your feet to stretch your muscles.

„Y/N.“ Your sister gasped as she stared at you. She got on her feet as well. „There’s blood all over you.“

You didn’t get hurt last night, you were sure of that. When Finn pushed you away from the flames you fell, but you didn’t hurt yourself. So… the blood Ada was talking about must be from the dead.

Close to vomit again, Ada grabbed your hand. „Alfred, do you know if there is water somewhere?“

He observed the surroundings and tried to remember where you were. „I believe there’s a small stream in that direction.“

Ada instantly dragged you along, following the direction Alfred’s hand had gestured in.

You hadn’t noticed you had blood on yourself. Your siblings didn’t either last night with the little light the fire had brought.

The nausea in your stomach wanted to escape, but when you bent forward as you supported yourself at a tree, nothing came out. The gagging was worse when there was nothing left in your stomach. It brought hot tears to your eyes and it also brought back the screams of the dying people.

Ada dragged you further until she found the stream.

You hurried into it, not caring about your clothes that got soaked wet or the freezing water temperature. Your hands frantically splashed water to your face and tried to wash the blood all off. Along with your skin as it seemed by how forcefully you were scratching at it. You couldn’t stop yourself, though.

„Y/N.“ Ada grabbed your arms and held you still. „It’s okay. Let me help you.“

She guided you to a stone and sat you down on it. Ada pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, dipped it in the water and softly rubbed it against your temple.

Due to your rapid way of getting rid of the blood your clothes were all soaked now and your hair wet. Your body started to freeze again, after having a way too short time not doing so. Maybe you were also crying because that hot sting in your eyes didn’t stop. You didn’t understand why this was so upsetting. Back home you had seen a lot of blood as well, some dead people too, that was what came with being a Shelby. Here, this cruelty had a whole different impact.

„It’s okay,“ Ada repeated.

„It’s not.“ Pictures were flooding your vision again and they didn’t go away with shutting your eyes. „There were children. Dead on the ground.“

„I know.“ Her head hung low. Did she think about Karl? Did she think about all those mothers who lost a child last night? But those mothers were probably dead as well.

She continued washing the blood off of you, rinsed your hair once more and then walked back to the others with you.

Ada told Finn to collect some wood and start a decent fire, so you could dry yourself at it. At first, when Finn had managed to create a way bigger bonfire than Alfred the night before, those images were rushing back at you once more. You remained sitting there anyway and tried not to think about it with a fist tightly closed around the amber to help soothe your mind. Only when Arthur and John came back with two dead squirrels and a tiny rabbit, your brain was finally able to focus on something else. Their loud voices, bragging about how they hunted the animals with only their knives, was a welcoming distraction.

Your hunger came back when they roasted the animals over the fire. And it was relieving to finally assuage it.

Arthur chewed every last bit of meat off the bones. John was laying on his back again, floating in probably the same relief you felt. Tommy was talking to Alfred, but you couldn’t hear their conversation. Ada and Finn were sharing a rabbit leg and kept the fire burning.

„Time to teach you how to fight.“ Alfred finally said, putting an end to your breakfast gathering. It was foreign to receive a command from someone other than Thomas Shelby. But Tom followed his words, so everyone else did too. Behave, adapt, survive was the great motto.

It wasn’t actually swords you learned how to fight with. Alfred told you to cut some branches off a tree, remove the leaves and use them as swords. The first well-reasoned words you heard leaving his mouth.

Finn was your training partner when you mimicked the way Alfred was yielding his sword. You placed hits at Finn’s neck, his stomach, his chest, fake-cut his leg off and received the same in return. It reminded you a lot of your childhood, when you snuck out into the woods and pretended to be knights with your twig swords.

It was fun. The circumstances under which you learned how to yield a sword were not. 

„Y/N, help me find some more squirrels to roast over the fire, eh?“ Tommy, with a leaf less branch in his hand, came up to Finn and you. Alfred was occupied with Arthur, giving Tommy the opportunity to shoot one of his demanding looks at you.

„Sure,“ you replied, sensing that it wasn’t only the squirrels why he wanted you to come along.

Tom loudly announced you would go look for some lunch and then walked away from your little campsite.

He actually did look out for some animals crossing your path, a knife in his hand to throw if a chance would come up. You pulled your small knife out of your sock to increase your chances.

„How are you, Y/N?“ When you had left your siblings and Alfred behind, and couldn’t hear them anymore, Tommy stopped in his tracks and turned to you.

Was he being serious? „I don’t know, how are you?“ The sudden anger which filled you with his question and caused you to snap at him, subsided immediately again because he was indeed serious. „I feel guilty,“ you admitted and walked off, looking for food. You missed the 21st century supermarket a lot right now.

„About?“ Tom came after you.

„Everything. I mean it’s clear you and the others blame me for getting us in this mess – which is totally justified because I am the one to blame here.“

„Y/N–“

„And last night–“

„Y/N, stop it.“ Tommy grabbed your arm and stopped you from walking away again. „None of this is your fault. You couldn’t know what would happen with that amber. Your intentions were… brave.“ His hand pushed back his hair which had already grown out some. „Everyone knows we’re not the same anymore. No one admitted it, though. You were the one who wanted to change something.“

Thomas’ confession somehow caught you off guard. „If everyone’s aware of it why am I the only one who wants to change something then?“

„Because you’re the bravest out of all of us, I guess.“ A smirk was appearing on his lips.

„Sure, Tom.“ You rolled your eyes at him and continued searching for squirrels. They weren’t easy to be found and you wondered how your clumsy brothers John and Arthur were able to cull two of them.

A hedgehog was the only animal you laid eyes on. And you pushed Tom away when he wanted to throw his knife at it. „Don’t you dare,“ you half-laughed and continued the hunt.

Tommy successfully threw his knife at another small rabbit not long after the hedgehog incident. And it stayed with that animal. It wasn’t the time of day for the forest animals to stroll around and wait to be killed.

„Y/N,“ Tommy held you back when the voices of your siblings came into earshot again. His face was wearing the expression you had waited for: the initial purpose as to why he wanted you to accompany him. „I’ve talked to this Alfred. He’s a lot of trouble. When you’re ready, try to get us away from here, eh?“ Your hand automatically reached for the amber around your neck. „I don’t want any of us getting killed helping him steal whatever comes to his mind.“

You nodded.

Lunch. More sword training. Dinner, after Arthur and John came back from hunting. Again with squirrels. How? And a bonfire, not made by Alfred, which would keep all of you warm this night.

One hand was around the amber, your other one was fumbling with the burned hair on your left side. You pulled the knife out of your sock and handed it to Ada.

„Can you make this go?“ You tugged at the burned hair with a questioning face.

„I never cut hair before.“

„I don’t really care. Just make the burned parts go away, okay?“

She nodded with a tiny smile and shuffled to sit behind you. It would’ve been easier to have scissors but Ada seemed to do well. She first cut off the tips of the burned parts and then tried to even it to the same length on the right side. You couldn’t see yourself but the fact alone, that the burned parts were gone and couldn’t remember you of that night anymore, was good enough.

John crawled over to you. „Oi, clean up my hair too?“

Arthur joined as well. „And mine?“

„I can try?“ Ada offered. You could feel she wasn’t sure about it. Their signature haircut was something complete different than your hair.

„Well, I’ll take Y/N for my hair. She’s better with a knife,“ John smirked. „No offence, Ada.“ Your brothers moved to sit in front of Ada and you. John gave you his knife, which was way bigger, because Ada already started on Arthur's hair with your knife.

Usually, John kept his hair combed back. Since you had left your Birmingham he hadn’t been able to do that really, so his curls created one big mess. You didn’t know what to do about that, so you decided to only shave the sides.

Pushing the blade to his skin and dragging it along, you were slightly scared to hurt him. And him constantly fidgeting around didn’t make it any better. „John Boy, stop moving for fuck’s sake,“ you whispered, highly concentrated to follow the line of his hair. He obeyed and let you finish one side. The other side was done pretty quickly as well, faster than Ada was with Arthur’s hair. Having a bigger blade was probably the only reason why.

„I mean the hair is gone,“ you stated, not really able to decide if the result was better than the mess before.

„It looks fine,“ Ada endorsed with a smile. You handed her John’s knife for the rest of Arthur’s hair.

„Can you fix up mine too?“ Finn’s voice was full of hope. Ada and you just looked at each other for a second, thinking exactly the same, and broke into a small laughter.

„Sorry, Finn. We ain’t gonna repeat that sin of a middle parting.“ As his twin sister you were permitted to tell him his middle parting wasn’t really suiting him, weren’t you? You liked his curls, your mother had granted him, way too much. „Time for you to get a real Blinder haircut I suggest?“

„Who even told you that middle parting was a good decision?“ Ada dragged him over and sat him between the two of you, tugging at his hair to think of a way to tame it.

„Arthur did!“ Finn pointed at him and almost got up to throw a punch at him, realising that Arthur probably didn’t suggest it in all honesty.

Arthur broke into laughter, this real loud laugh coming from deep inside his chest. It was infective. „Wanted to see how long he’d look like an idiot until he realises.“ His voice was cracking a few times, unable to bite back the laughter. „Didn’t happen yet.“

„Not cool, Arthur,“ you called him out.

He didn’t care, though, still laughing and joking with John about it. Ada started to work on Finn’s hair, having a harder job this time to shave his sides because his curls made it hard to cut a straight line.

„Tom, you want me to fix yours too, now we’re at it?“ You had helped Ada with your own knife this time and looked from Finn’s hair to Tommy. 

„Don’t worry, I’m handsome no matter what my hair looks like,“ he stated in all seriousness and for a few seconds everyone froze. You stared at him blankly and then, together with your siblings, even Tommy himself, you broke into the hardest fit of laughter you had in a long time.

You had such a good time that evening. Fixing your brothers hair had been something you had never done before, but the trust they had offered you made you happy. Tommy was all for jokes that evening and everyone joined in. Even Alfred was a bearable company tonight. He had been hunting and brought back a satisfying dinner.

Finn asked you why you didn’t tell him earlier that the middle parting looked odd. To be honest: It wasn’t your place to tell anyone how they should look like. And you didn’t really know why you had done it today. There was nothing wrong with him wearing his hair the way he liked. You knew, though, he was too much depending on the personal opinions on others. He shouldn’t be, though. Other opinions didn’t matter as long as he felt okay with himself.

Your heart was a little lighter today. Throughout the day you had been able to ban the pictures of the previous night. When the sun began to sat, they slowly crept up on you again, dancing in the flames of the bonfire.

The fist around the amber was tight. You were the only one able to save your siblings from whatever Alfred wanted you to do for him. You wanted to be stronger, together with them. Just not in the sword yielding way if possible. You wanted to go home. And you wanted your siblings to have more peace. You wanted more of those joking nights.

One of your siblings gasped in the exact same moment as your stomach started to twist. Your eyes were closed as you almost gladly welcomed your head hurting like it could explode any second.

When you opened your eyes again, you couldn’t believe what they were looking at. You knew those surroundings too well. Charlie’s Yard.

/////

Tag • @theshelbyclan​ 

[blackdagger456]

Since my Discord group brought this up imma put this here too.

Ichigo Kurosaki X Orihime isn't a bad ship if you look at it on a surface level in the same way Naruto xHinata is a good ship on a surface level. Orihime loves Ichigo that is a fact that isn't in question it is painfully obvious she adores him not on the level of Hinata stalking Naruto but as a actual active friend in his group. Ichigo admitedly did vow to protect Orihime something which Rukia briefly teased him to do.

Orihime loves Ichigo in a way that isn't platonic and the paralells between her and Hinata Hyuga are very apparent if you want to defend Ichihime.

But heres the thing with both Naruhina and Ichihime. With Naruhina Naruto quite literally had noone else to turn to when it came to love the one he once loved ended up shagging with the resident emo and any other girl he could have gotten with wouldnt work because he spent his whole teen life chasing after said girl.

While the girl he did end up with was in fact someone who stalked him everywhere and while it was considered good and shy at first when i learned that this wasnt a one off thing i was turned off.

Now comparing this to Orihime she is much better at this than Hinata, she loves Ichigo but doesn't cling to him in the series in the same ways that Hinata did to Naruto.

But you want to know why i like Naruhina more than Ichihime in thi scenario?

Because one of these girls didnt forget how to fucking fight and become a damsel in distress after a single arc.

Now back to Ichigo Kuroskai x Rukia Kuchiki or better known as IchiRuki.

The way this relationship started was rocky in the terms of 'wow they argue like a married couple' Rukia Kuchiki is a woman who has permanetly impacted his life forevermore just as he has done to hers.

In the time before we are introduced to the 13 Court Guard Squads of Soul Society, we see the obvious chemistry between the two and yet we are also presently surprised that while obvious it's not forced.

Their personalities clash and mesh naturally and even when Rukia is being saved the two bicker in such a way that gets you smiling because you've missed these moments so much when Rukia went back to Soul Society to prevent any more harm to the boy she's grown to care so much about. People tend to forget that the initial relationship between Rukia and Ichigo wasn't exactly allowed, Rukia broke the law when she gave her powers to Ichigo and even more so when she didn't immediately go back to report said broken law and have her powers transferred back.

She legitimately forgot about it until it was too late not because the laws aren’t important to her---but because she was genuinely having so much fun with the orange haired boy.

Fucks sake they shared a room for months in which they just hung out when Hollows weren't about.

Even after the rescue and Rukia still once again went above and beyond to help him invade Hueco Mundo to save Orihime along with Renji.

In turn Ichigo who was known to have a small group of friends and genuinely left alone took to this woman like a fish did to water. When she was taken, and he was beaten he risked being hollowfied just to regain the power he needed to save her from death.

He was willing to fight 13--let me repeat that 13 Soul Reaper Captains and their divisions **alone** to save this girl, whenever Rukia was in danger like when Grimmjow stabbed her in the stomach he got pissed beyond belief. Now you can say that this is because he just wanted to protect his friend and that's fine but that doesn't dissuade my point now does it?

Even when they were saying goodbye after Aizens defeat they were joking up until the literally couldn't anymore and Rukia looked beyond sad Ichigo wouldn’t be able to see or interact with her anymore and afterwards Ichigo was depressed until the Ginjo arc.

Now give me some hints of Ichihime other than the ones I’ve said and ones that don't involve that famous bedroom sleep confessions she did nor anytime Ichigo had to save her.

Can you? Let me stop you from doing a useless search because the answer is a big fat No.

The simple matter of the fact is this, Ichigo Kurosaki has little if no chemistry with Orihime Inoue beyond the fact that she loved him. Yes, there was the Grimmjow fight and moments in the Quincy war arc you can point out, but it shouldn’t take big events to show a characters love for someone. There has to be other moments in which the love can be justified and shown on BOTH parts off the battlefield and in their regular lives something that wasn't shown for Ichigo and Orihime but what *was* shown for Rukia and Ichigo.

I have no problems with people who like the ship initially, but to those fanatics who attack IchRuki fans before and especially after it became canon. To *those* people I say that their opinions and views infuriate me because of the very obvious evidence put in front of our faces as to the ship I support and love.

It helps that Rukia was shown to actually be a very competent Soul Reaper time after time even achieving the level of a very powerful Bankai and her role wasn't as a damsel in distress when they've established that she has power unlike what they did with Orihime.

Bottom line, Ichigo Kurosaki and Rukia ~~Kurosaki~~ Kuchiki have a better build up in relationship and actual chemistry and that is why I was upset at how it turned out. I would have much preferred there to be no romantic relationships and for it to be left open like Kubo initially wanted than what the editors and publishers rushed and forced out of him at the end.

[storysofmyown]

Obey me! Scarred, Chapt. 9

Plot:  It’s time for the next step in Diavolo’s plan to unify the  realms. But, in order to work, the demons would be subjected to confront  their worst fears, and in some cases, who they are.  

Trigger Warning: Manipulation, some cussing

Word Count: 1996

Mc found themselves up in the human world. They stood right across from a coffee. The place looked like something that one would visit in France, some tables right at the side of the street with the shining sun looming over their head. The noise of the cars becoming overwhelming as they tried to figure out what was happening. One moment they were at the Devildom, the next here they were. Feeling the shining sun in forever. People were walking all around them. And although they should be overwhelmed with happiness being back at their world, it was all far too strange.

 Before they could even move from their spot. They closed their eyes taking a deep breath. It was different than what they had grown used to. Upon opening their eyes, they found themselves sitting in one of the tables, which had a small paper with their name and another name. Mc didn’t recognize it, but the name brought upon them comfort and warm. Like the name of the person one loves would, it rolled on their tongue like a name meant to bring peace. Mc looked up from the paper and right across the small table, there sat God.

 “Mc.” Was all he said with a curious smile on his lips. Eyes so white it made Mc uneasy. God starred down at Mc, the being seemed quite unbothered. For him, it might be just like meeting with an old friend to catch up. But for Mc, well, they were being faced by the known creator of all. Knowing damn well what he had done to his own daughter. Mc sat there, mouth slightly agape, hands shaking ever so slightly.

 “God?” Was all they could muster. God laughed.

“There is no need for such formalities here, we do not want any other human to hear us, do we?” God slightly looked around, and upon further inspection, Mc noticed some people starring at them. Perhaps it was because of the almost 9 feet man that sat there unbothered, or perhaps it was that since they had arrived there everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells. Almost like they knew they were being watched.

 “What…what should I c-call you?” Mc spoke softly, still not over their initial shock.

 “Whatever you would like. I go many names after all.” God started to stir his coffee with s mall spoon. Had he always had that coffee there? “The Africans call me something, the Asians another, the old native had me many names. You may know me as Zeus based on the Greeks, Brahma based on the Indians, The Nordic used to call me Odin. Some gave me other attributes, some divided me, some unified me.” For a moment he stopped, and even with all the people walking around, all Mc could hear was the sound of Gods voice and the spoon clicking against the cup. He sighed, before smiling again at Mc, cup now close to his lips.

 “I…uh, what?” Mc was confused, they looked at God once again. They could swear the being had just rolled their eyes.

 “If it makes you comfortable, you call me-”

 ¨What are we doing here?” Mc finally managed to ask. Eyes locking with Gods.  

 “I figured you would like to visit your own world. After all, you have been stuck in that wretched place far too long.” Mc thought for a moment about Gods choice of words. He had referred to the Devildom as a “wretched place”. It made Mc wonder why the being would even consider an alliance between the realms if that is how he saw the place.

 “I…guess so but…uh- wouldn’t people be suspicious of seeing you here? I mean…” Mc looked down for a moment. “You kind of standout…a little.” Mc’s voice was soft and trembling a little. They were nervous about this whole interaction. God only sighed, putting a hand on his temples.

 “Please, you actually believe any of those humans are smart enough to know I’m not like them?”

 “I…guess not.” God looked at Mc, a blank expression in his face before smiling, barely.

 “Besides.” He looked around. “It has been years since I last saw this world or any human, besides yourself. I was curious to see what had happen to it.” Mc would have expected to find a longing expression in Gods face. The expression of a father who was watching as his child’s accomplished their dreams but remembered them as little kids. Perhaps a nostalgic yet proud look. But no. The man had an expression between disgusted and no emotion at all.

 “Wait- any human? Weren’t there human exchange students in the Celestial Realm?” God seemed uninterested in this conversation. Only half committing to answering.

 “Ah, yes. Them.” God grunted, he seemed mildly annoyed at the mention of the humans. “I stayed out of their way. I figured they would not need to know me, in order to their year to be productive.” If there was a way to measure Gods annoyance level, Mc would be too afraid to use it because they were certain the seeing would be close to a hundred. If the way he was gripping the sides of the table was anything to go by, that was.

 Mc opted to stay silent. Their eyes scanning the place the were currently in. Mc was trying to figure where exactly they were. The sign of the place was no indication, since the letters were unreadable. Mc wondered if that was the owner’s fault or Gods, preventing them from knowing where they were so they wouldn’t run away or something. With every minute that passed Mc noticed the same people walking the same steps. The same lady walking her dog, the same man still smoking his cigarette. The delicate orange glow as the sunset fell upon them.

 Wait, sunset? When they started this conversation, it was still the middle of the day. Why had the sun set so quickly? Mc’s eyes fell on God, the being had his eyes stuck on Mc’s every move. It made them feel this nervous vibe set in the air.

 “Why am I here?” God placed his elbows on the table, leaning in, head resting in his palms as he watched Mc very intently.

 “Straight to business? Not even hoping for me to answer some questions that your kind would kill to have the answers to?” God starred at Mc in the eyes. Of course Mc was curious, there were thousands of burning questions in their mind, ever since Mc saw the man for the first time they had been more aware of the world around them and the life they were leading. It was a weird sensation. Mc had the answer to a question millions of peoples asked themselves. Is God real? They knew that answer. Not only did they know that, but they also knew what a terrible father the man was. “All in due time, deary. No need to hurry this encounter. After all, we are having such a great time.”

 “Answer my question.” Mc spoke firmly. Even if the being that sat across the table was God, they were not interested in playing his games. They wanted to know what was happening. Gods expression shifted. Their chill demeanor suddenly gave off this weird vibe as he starred fire into Mc’s soul.

 “Tone, child.” His voice was stern. Almost as that of a father punishing his own child for misbehaving. He scoffed, looking mildly annoyed. “You humans are so troublesome. I once considered destroying the whole place. Just as I created all of it, I could have turned it into cosmic dust or something with more use. But I opted to just stop intervening. And look how well that turned out? I literally had to do nothing, and this place is close to extinction.”

 Flashes of destruction became present in Mc’s mind. Volcanic eruptions, contamination, wars, death, blood, fire. All the images ran through Mc’s mind almost as if they were present in the moment. Like they were standing right there, as it all happened. Mc’s heartbeat was accelerated once the images stopped.

 “You have no idea, absolutely NONE about how much I enjoy hearing your pathetic selves cry for help.” God laughed, loudly. “The moment they know they have lost everything, and they cry for forgiveness. They call for ME! HAHA! Like I give a FUCK about them.” God kept laughing. The people around starring at the table as Mc’s hand were shaking. They wanted to be back at the devildom, now. “Humans, haha, what a joke. But sure, lets talk about why you are here. You see, human, I need you to do something for me.”

 “What? Do…something for you?”

 “Yes, yes. You see, the ball is tomorrow.” God reclined back into his chair. Taking the characteristically uncaring mannerism Mc had associated with the being to another level. “I want to talk to Mammon there. Think you could give him a heads up?”

 “Mammon?” God nodded. “What do you want with him?” Mc blurted out.

 “As I said, I just want to have a little chat with him. But since he is always with the others it will be practically impossible for me to reach him. Think you could do that?” Mc did not need to think about it, before their mind even processed why God might want to talk with Mammon words had already left their lips.

 “No.”

 “N…no?”

 “I will not help you traumatize another member of this family. You already hurt Beelzebulb and Satan by just talking to them.” Mc had a fire on their eyes. The fact that God thought Mc would help him get close to hurt someone they cared about was outstanding.

 “Is that so?” God sighed. “I was hoping you would be more…understanding. But I guess I’ll just have to find a way to reach Mammon tomorrow at the ball, on my own.” God stood up, looming over Mc as menacingly as possible.

 “Don’t you dare get close to him.” Mc slammed their hands on the table. Making the cups in it fall over. “I will not let you hurt him.” God turned around; a smile Mc was not able to see plastered on his lips. He had done it. He had planted the seed of worry on Mc’s mind.

 “It pains me to know you think I would never do anything to hurt my own son.” God sighed, or more like faked sighing. That much was evident to mc. “But at least now I know something.” He turned around, and all the bravery Mc had felt a second before while they were defending the people they loved so much came crashing at the hate in Gods face.

 Mc had seen that look before. They had seen it on Belphegors face after he had been freed from the attic, Mc had seen that same look on Lucifers eyes when the man found out Mc knew about the seventh brother. The difference? Even if it was dumb, Mc trusted those two demons. Even if they had tried to hurt them, they trusted the others will help. But here? Mc was alone, none of the demons were here to help them. They were powerless daring the possibly most powerful creature in the universe. But after the initial shock Mc recovered their composure. They were defending the people they considered now as family. And no amount of threats would make them back down.

 “And what is that?” Mc asked, the same furious tone as Gods.

 “Now I know where your loyalty lies.” Mc blinked, right in front of them was a mirror, their reflection starring right back at them. They looked around, recognition filling their worried heart s they let out a long sigh.

 “I’m back.” Mc spoke, with a hand over their chest, feeling themselves breath. That had been stressful. But now, now all they cared about was keeping the demons they cared so much about safe.

Aight! This chapter is a little different than the others. I wanted Mc to have some kind of interaction with God that was one on one. This could have been much longer and have Mc ask God a lot of stuff but it kind of felt...off somehow. I don’t know if its clear but Gods whole thought process here was “I need them to be out of my way when i go after the actual target.” And what better way to do that than having Mammon, a demon who will try to avoid Mc at every turn distract her. But, if y’all have any questions for God he might be up for answering them lmao. Also, don’t mind me being lazy and not actually giving him a name cuz none of the ones i came up with was good. Nonetheless i hope y’all enjoyed this chapter, and I’m not sure when the next one will be posted, but I’ll try my best for it to be before Friday lmao.

Chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

[makingoutinthemojave]

This is something i thought of a few days ago, but fo4 companions reacting to the sole survivor taking off their prosthetic leg/arm and hitting someone ( maybe one of the othet companions lol) with it after being annoying.

I wrote a few of these! Feel free to message me if you’d like other companions!

—

Deacon-

“All I’m saying is that if Aliens exist- then why is it so hard to believe there are microscopic robots in all of our food?”

“Ok- Tom- that’s a lot to unpack,” Tinker Tom was in one of his rants again that he would go into while everyone was trying to sleep. However, his ramblings normally got everyone up and talking. Sole always tried to argue with him, which was hilarious to Deacon. “First of all, Aliens aren’t real.”

“Hey now- that ain’t true!” Tom interrupted them, “I saw that UFO the other day!”

“And we’re supposed to believe in everything you see?” Glory takes Sole’s side, lifting her brow at Tom.

“Hey, if the man says he saw a UFO- then who are we to say he didn’t! I believe ya, Tinker.” Deacon scooted from his mattress to Tom’s, patting his back. He loved to side with Tom in these fights- mostly because he reveled in the chance to tease Sole.

“Thanks, Deeks, at least you know the truth.” Tom puts his arm around Deacon, glaring at the other, less believing crew. 

“Whatever, ok, Second of all, how did you go from Aliens to microscopic robots?” Sole ignores the idiots arm-in-arm in front of them and brings up their second point.

“That’s obvious! The Aliens make the tiny robots!” Deacon declares in a dramatic voice, and Tom gasps.

“Do you think so? Maybe that’s why they’re flying over the earth- they’ve been experimenting on us!” Tom sounded like he was on the cusp of revelation- and Glory groaned.

“Come on, Tom, you can’t be serious.”

“I’m sorry that you can’t open your mind to the possibilities, Glory. I’m just trying to be safe!” Tom takes a condescending tone, and Deacon anticipates a shitshow.

“Oh, and being safe means being an idiot?” Glory snaps, and Deacon ‘ooh’s.

“Being safe means suspecting everything! And you don’t suspect enough!” Tom spits back.

“I don’t, do I? Well, Tom, I ‘suspect’ you’re about to get your ass whooped-” Glory starts getting up, and Sole grabs her arm.

“Wait, beat him with this-” Sole grabs at their hip, feeling for something.

“You’re not actually gonna beat me up, Glory-” Tom begins to nervously ask, Deacon recoiling from his friend to prevent suffering the same fate. He’s interrupted by a loud POP.

“WhAT THE FUCK-” Glory yells, jumping back from Sole. Sole then lifts their whole leg into the air.

“Get ‘em with this!” Sole offers the leg over to Glory, and she backs up.

“Woah, Woah- hold on, you can’t just hand your leg over to someone!”

“Yeah, you need to take them to dinner first- at least.” Deacon quips, making Sole laugh. He’s known about Sole’s prosthetic leg for some time and especially knows their tendency to use it as a disciplinary weapon. He’s just glad he’s not the one to receive their calf of wrath at the moment.

“What, do you not know about my leg, Glory?” Sole gestures with the leg while talking, “Damn, I knew I forgot to tell someone. Well, you can still use it to beat up Tom. Here.” They continue to hold the leg to Glory.

Glory thinks for a moment, still trying to take in what had happened. Then she nods. “Ah, fuck it, gimme the leg.” She takes the leg from Sole and turns with a vicious look towards Tom. “I’ll show you just how safe you are-”

Deacon learned a lesson that night. Don’t give a prosthetic limb to Glory when she’s angry. Also, don’t wake Desdemona up in the middle of the night. Both things produce terrible, terrible consequences.

Nick Valentine-

It ended up being a late night in the office and Nick said he’d make up for it by buying drinks for Ellie and Sole. The trio went to the Dugout inn, preceding to the bar.

“Hello, Detectives! What will I be getting for you?” Vadim greeted them in the same, loud way he always did. Nick began to fish the money out of his trench coat pocket.

“Hi, Vadim. It’s gonna be a round for these two. My treat.” Nick pulled out his caps, sliding them across the bar to Vadim.

“Oh, I see…cruising, huh, Valentine?” Vadim graciously took the money, chuckling to himself.

“Excuse me?” What is that supposed to mean? Nick sure didn’t know, but based on the way they scoffed- Sole did. Ellie started giggling as well.

“Oh, come on, Nick…I always knew you were a smooth operator. But shouldn’t you be keeping it professional with these two?” Vadim laughed, turning to grab their beers. Nick thinks he was starting to understand.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bobrov.” Nick’s internal fans were working in overdrive to keep him cool, and Ellie kept laughing at his sake.

“Oh-hoh, that’s how it is! Well, good luck in your-” Vadim hoots, turning to put the beers on the counter. His remark is cut off by Sole.

“Alright, that’s enough of that.” Sole suddenly tears their right arm off, whacking Vadim on the back of the head.

Wait. They what.

Ellie squeals, jumping and standing back from the now armless Sole. It takes her and Nick one more second to register the straps and cords coming out of the detached arm.

“You have a fake arm??” Ellie declares, more in relief than anything else.

“You didn’t know?” Sole seems surprised just the same as they were.

“How would we have found out?” Nick defends, staring at them in confusion. He still wasn’t quite sure what had happened, 

“That’s one way to shut him up.” Yedim chimes up, interrupting their bickering, and making Vadim laugh.

“Yes, yes, sorry for teasing you guys! Enjoy your drinks!” Vadim apologizes and pushing the beers over to the three. Sole puts their arm back on, and they and Ellie grab the drinks.

“Thank you, Vadim. And sorry about the arm.” Sole apologizes, and they walk to find their seats.

“Well, kid, good to know you’re armed at all times.” Nick quips, watching the anguish wash over Sole and Ellie’s faces.

“Oh god- was that a pun? I thought you were better than that, Nick.” Sole cringes and Nick grins victoriously.

“Okay, now you have to tell us what happened…” Ellie nudges Sole, ignoring Nick’s dad jokes.

“Fine, I lost it when…”

Paladin Danse- 

“No wayyy!” Haylen shoves sole on the shoulder with her bottle hand, nudging them gently as they put their hands up in defense.

“I swear! I was out of the vault for like, less than an hour and already killing deathclaws!” Sole tries to convince their crowd, shrugging with their beer.

Sole and few other brotherhood members were drinking together on the lower levels of the prydwen, something Danse was completely unaccustomed to. He wasn’t one to do anything out of protocol and wasn’t interested in activities that could lead to said behavior. But Sole, the ever-inviting harpy they could be, convinced him the initiates would benefit from seeing a Paladin more relaxed. “Show them you’re a person like the rest of us,” they said. Sure.

“That would explain your pre-existing combat prowess, charging into that ghoul onslaught when we met.” Danse joins the conversation, taking a sip of his Gwinnett Ale. Everyone looks to him quickly, surprise in the initiate’s eyes. True, he hasn’t spoken at all yet, but they don’t need to treat it like a big deal. Danse tucked his head down a bit.

“Would you call that ‘prowess’ or ‘reckless abandon’?” Rhys, charming as always, chimes up before Sole could accept the compliment. He was always thorny towards newcomers, but he seemed especially so to this pre-war Vault dweller. Danse has handled in-team conflicts before, but when they involved Rhys, it was always more complicated.

“I would call it bravery.” Haylen says, glaring a moment at Rhys and then smiling back at Sole. She was always the compassionate one.

“What’s so brave about almost killing yourself?” Rhys continues to bicker, waving his beer in the air.

“Killing myself? I think I was doing most of the killing there!” Sole teases, always loving to mess with Rhys. Danse wishes they wouldn’t.

“Oh really? I think you ought to remember your place here.” Rhys frowned.

“Should I? Who got the instant promotion? Who’s working directly with the Elder to defeat the institute?” Sole continues to poke his buttons, making the initiates watching “ooh”.

“That’s it-” Rhys gets to his feet, and then does Sole.

“Wait a minute, Soldiers,” Danse quickly hops to his feet to stop the fight, but is interrupted by Sole swiftly yanking their arm off and wielding it like a weapon.

Haylen doesn’t hesitate to scream at the sight, and even Rhys seems spooked.

“What?? Y’all didn’t know I have a fake arm?” Sole reacts with just as much surprise, waving the arm around like it was nothing.

“We had no idea, Soldier, I-I-” Danse awkwardly stares.

“Well, I can tell you how I lost it if Rhys will just shut his mouth.” Sole glares and Rhys does the same.

“Settle down you two.” Danse crosses his arms and gets them to back down, going back to their seated positions. “So, tell us about the arm.”

“Okay, so way back before the war….”

X6-88- 

X6 would probably walk in on Sole knocking one of the institute directors on the head with their prosthetic arm and instantly become over-interested. He’d start inquiring about the technical abilities of their prosthetic, what weapons it was equipped with, how it could be improved.

“It doesn’t really have any abilities, other than functioning as an arm,” Sole sheepishly responded to the questions, embarrassed by the sudden attention.

“That doesn’t do at all, Sir/M’am. You should see the Robotics branch to get an upgrade. The face of the Institute deserves the best limb enhancers.” And so, through X6’s urging, Sole would end up with a wicked arm. Robotics would hook them up with like…inspector gadget style tricks all in the prosthetic. They’d honestly look part synth, which shortly became Sole’s new favorite thing to trick wastelanders into thinking. Thanks, X6!

[ilcuoreardendo-fic]

Joy and Solace (QuiObi)

If you’re looking for smut, here be smut, faint hints of plot and character development and deeper connections. But mostly just smut. Because it’s QuiObi Kink Week and that’s how I’m rolling with my (probably) one and only entry. 

Enjoy. (And now I go back to my Vaderwan fic that won’t come to a conclusion without a lot of blood, sweat and tears. From me. Not the characters.) This is for Day 1: Forced orgasm/over stimulation | prostate milking

_______________________________________

Obi-Wan stood outside the nondescript hotel door, not fidgeting. Jedi Masters didn’t fidget. He could feel Qui-Gon moving around inside and knew Qui-Gon could feel him, even though the new bond between them lay soft and muted, by mutual agreement. (New bonds, out in the field, could be distracting. And a distraction could be a death sentence.) But his former master wouldn’t open the door until Obi-Wan knocked.

He licked his dry lips. Whatever this was between them, it was the culmination of numerous juvenile dreams and masturbatory fantasies that Obi-Wan had never thought would be realized.

This thing between them had started months ago, while Obi-Wan convalesced at the Temple after a particularly hard fall (caused by a blaster shot he hadn’t been quick enough to block) had brought him in from the front lines.

Qui-Gon’s anger had been palpable. It was only Obi-Wan’s elevated leg and a well-practiced pair of Tooka eyes that had Qui-Gon backing down from yet another rant about the Council’s management (or mismanagement) of the entire war effort.  Obi-Wan secretly thought much of his temper came from the fact that Qui-Gon could not join him on the battlefield; his injuries on Naboo had permanently changed his professional track within the Jedi Order.

A well-timed push of calm and comfort along the remnants of their training bond had Qui-Gon calming further. A stiff drink relaxed them both enough that when the kiss came, Obi-Wan wasn’t sure who initiated it. Though there had been no doubt about who had pinned whose wrists to the mattress. His wrists still tingled when Obi-Wan thought about it.

Obi-Wan knocked. A moment later, the door opened and he stepped inside.

“Good evening, Obi-Wan.”

“Hello, Qui-Gon.”

“Tea?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. Already he could feel that sense of calm that he’d come to know during his last few rendezvous with Qui-Gon. It made his tongue heavy and stole his words. But he didn’t need them. Not here. Not in this space.

Qui-Gon smiled gently. His hair was pulled back in a tight braid and he wore what must have been a hotel provided bathrobe. “You’re here. So you must have received my package.”

Obi-Wan nodded again. He hadn’t spent much time behind Temple walls in the last few months and the war had often kept them well apart. When they did end up in the same sector, or when Qui-Gon had leave from his ambassadorial duties, Obi-Wan would inevitably come back to his quarters and find a note with a time and a place.

This time, the note had been accompanied by a small box, containing some contraption he’d never seen before but which had come with a helpful manual.

“Are you wearing it?” Qui-Gon asked, arching his brow.

“Yes.” Obi-Wan licked his lips, “Master.”

“Show me.” Qui-Gon guided Obi-Wan into the center of the room where light from the overhead lamps pooled around a rug and a couple of pillows. Obi-Wan handed his cloak to Qui-Gon who tucked it away. Underneath, he wore only his under tunic and trousers and he hooked the waistband and drew them down his hips, just enough to show off the cage.

When he’d pulled the metal contraption out of the box, it had taken him a moment to figure it all out, even with the instructions, but eventually he’d managed to slip his testicles and his cock through the ring before taking that second piece—a shining carapace of woven metal with a strategically placed hole at the tip—and fitting it over his soft cock. It had fit almost as if it were molded for him. He’d attached it to the ring and, with a brief bout of nerves, snapped the tiny padlock that would keep him from removing the ring or the cage into place. He remembered the postscript on the note: I have the key.

Qui-Gon’s soft draw of breath was loud in the hush of the room. He leaned forward to run his finger along Obi-Wan’s tight scrotum. “Beautiful. Now, when was the last time you orgasmed?”

Obi-Wan blinked. “A week before I received your note, Master.”

“Eight days ago, then,” Qui-Gon said, cupping Obi-Wan’s chin, fingers stroking over his beard.

“Why does that matter?”

Qui-Gon smiled guilelessly, gave an eloquent shrug. “You know what I plan to do to you. What if I told you that what you give to me was the only lubricant I’d be using to fuck you tonight?”

A flare of heat shot from the pit of Obi-Wan’s stomach to the tip of his cock and he groaned as the cage did its job, preventing him from becoming erect. The bond between them shivered with Obi-Wan’s arousal.  

“Oh my.” Qui-Gon brushed his mouth along Obi-Wan’s temple. “I think you like that idea.”

“Master, please.”

“You washed up like I asked?”

Flushing at the memory of pulling the enema bulb from package, Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, Master.”

“Good boy.” Qui-Gon said and kissed him. “Now, take off your clothes and kneel.” He indicated the two pillows, spread just enough apart on the rug that Obi-Wan knew he would be in a position of full display. The thought excited him.

Once he was naked and settled on his heels, his knees spread open on the pillows, caged cock bobbing obscenely between his legs, Qui-Gon knelt just behind him and held something up for Obi-Wan’s inspection. It was a long, slim wand of sleek plasteel with a bulbous, angled head.

“Remember,” Qui-Gon said, “we can stop at any time.” He pressed a warm kiss to Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“I know. I’m ready.” Even as he spoke, Obi-Wan felt Qui-Gon’s fingers slide along the crease of his ass, dip into the furl of his anus and press one finger gently against him, into him.

“Oh,” Qui-Gon murmured, “already slick and open. Did I ask you to prepare yourself?”

“No, Master,” Obi-Wan murmured, momentarily chastised. It had seemed like the thing to do at the time.

“Next time, leave that privilege for me,” Qui-Gon breathed into his ear, stroking gently inside him, the penetration slow and teasing. Then he very intentionally pressed his finger against a spot—prostate, Obi-Wan’s mind helpfully supplied—that sent a shockwave through Obi-Wan, raising the hair on his body. There had been shadows of this sensation during their previous sex but nothing quite like this.

“Did you like that?”

Had he? It had been strange, but not unpleasant. A thrill of pleasure that toed the line of too strong. “I’m not sure, Master.”

“Hm. Well, you’ll have time to decide,” Qui-Gon said as he withdrew his finger.

Obi-Wan heard him tear open what must have been a sachet of lubricant. Then—

“Oh. I almost forgot,” Qui-Gon said as he leaned around Obi-Wan and plucked a shallow, wide mouthed cup from the floor just in front of them, placing it beneath Obi-Wan’s caged cock.

Obi-Wan licked his lips and Qui-Gon shot him a sly smile before disappearing over his shoulder again.

A moment later, something slick and unyielding prodded at the center of him. Obi-Wan breathed out slowly. As he let himself relax, the wand slid inside him with little resistance. It wasn’t the same feeling as his Master’s fingers or cock but there was something about it, something about kneeling here, caged, at Qui-Gon’s mercy, that made him hyper aware of the slow glide of the wand and, in turn, made arousal pool warm and thick in his belly.

Qui-Gon gave a few teasing strokes deep inside him and then pulled most of the wand out and slid it lightly over his prostate, shooting off that strange, almosttoomuch spark of pleasure from before. And then he did it again and again, settling into a rhythm that soon had Obi-Wan groaning beneath his breath and grasping his thighs to keep his hands away from his cage.

Something like the sensation of orgasm—but weaker, muted—crawled down his spine and through his pelvis, ending at the tip of his soft cock, which tried valiantly to harden.

“Ah. Good boy,” Qui-Gon whispered in his ear. “Lean against me a little. Yes, just like that. Now, look at your cock.” Qui-Gon stroked the wand a little more firmly over his prostate, drawing a strangled cry from him. “Look, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan looked. A steady stream of ejaculate flowed from him into the shallow cup.

“You’re doing so well for me,” Qui-Gon said, never stopping the movements of the wand.  “How does it feel, Obi-Wan?”

“Like…like a wave that never crests,” Obi-Wan stuttered.

Qui-Gon snorted. “If you’re capable of being poetic, I’m not doing my job. Hm.”

At Qui-Gon’s contemplative hum, Obi-Wan felt the phantom touch of the Force around him and suddenly inside him. Pushing into him like a lover’s cock, spreading around the wand and swelling to fill him in much the same way Qui-Gon did, setting his nerve endings alight.

Obi-Wan felt his body flush. The skin along his back and shoulders and at his temples prickled with itchy-heat and he tried to thrust his hips back, only to find himself held immobile by the same Force that penetrated him, his body denied the pinnacle of pleasure it sought.

And that’s what tonight was about. He could do nothing. He wasn’t in control. If Qui-Gon wanted him to have pleasure, he would give it. If Qui-Gon wanted him to come, he would make him. All Obi-Wan needed to do was…just this: give up his control, leave it in Qui-Gon’s hands.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he let himself go. Let himself sink into his body, into the nerves deep inside his ass that sang in tune with the nerves in his cock. It felt as if he’d been riding the edge of orgasm for hours. His entire consciousness narrowed down to where Qui-Gon stroked him with the wand and where Qui-Gon’s other hand wrapped around his hip and how the Force held him and flowed into him. He was a creature of flesh and blood and raw sensation to be shaped and molded by his Master’s hands.

At that thought, he let Qui-Gon take more of his weight, butting his head up under his Master’s chin.

Qui-Gon made a noise deep in his chest, somewhere between a sigh and a groan. He felt his Master further open the bond between them, felt Qui-Gon’s pleasure through it: his joy at holding Obi-Wan in his arms, his arousal at being allowed to explore these new sensations and push boundaries, his awe and humility at Obi-Wan’s willingness to trust him.  

“Your surrender is a gift, Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon made one last teasing pass over Obi-Wan’s prostate, pressing in a way that left Obi-Wan gasping, and withdrew the wand. “Now…” he said, and reached around Obi-Wan, plucking the half full cup from between his legs.

Obi-Wan looked over his shoulder, warm and languid, his body aching for orgasm and his mind aching for Qui-Gon to fuck him.

Qui-Gon stripped off his robe with one hand. He wore nothing underneath. His erection, flushed and dewy, stood up against his belly. He poured Obi-Wan’s ejaculate into his palm and ran his cupped hand over his cock, slicking himself with Obi-Wan’s own fluids. The site itself took Obi-Wan’s breath away. And on top of it, through the bond, Obi-Wan could feel Qui-Gon touching himself and his cock gave a twitch inside its cage. Qui-Gon’s own arousal flamed like a banked fire.

Qui-Gon met Obi-Wan’s eyes and gestured for him to face front. “Down,” he said.

Obi-Wan turned his head and, keeping his knees spread, bent forward, as if in supplication, elbows coming to rest on the rug, head hanging between his shoulders and ass lifted in the air.

A moment later, Qui-Gon gripped his hips and drove into him with one long, steady push. The stretch was sweet torment, making every muscle in his body clench in anticipation. Through the bond he could feel Qui-Gon feeling him, hot and tight and just slick enough to allow Qui-Gon to move without fear of hurting Obi-Wan.

It’s like you were made for me.

Obi-Wan caught the errant thought as Qui-Gon set a pace that was just this side of punishing. Again, his whole world narrowed down to a series of focal points. Qui-Gon’s hands in a bruising grip on his hips (and oh, he’d be touching himself to the memory of how he got those bruises for as long as they lasted). Qui-Gon’s thick cock inside him, filling him in a way that nothing and no one else did, dragging against his walls and over his sensitized prostate. It was just this side of painful and he never wanted it to stop.

When Qui-Gon finally came, Obi-Wan, surprisingly, did too. The orgasm seemed to start deep inside his belly; radiated outward, soaring through every muscle. The rest of it came from inside his mind, through the bond: Qui-Gon’s orgasm melding with his own. Even though Obi-Wan’s cock was soft, and even though he felt like he’d already been milked dry, he spent himself inside the cage with a hoarse cry and collapsed forward onto the rug.

Obi-Wan sensed surprise and delight through the bond.  

Qui-Gon draped over him, kissed the back of his head, his temple, his ear. “Looks like I don’t need to offer you a hand.”

“Oh Force,” Obi-Wan whimpered.  “Don’t even think of it.” His body was so strung out he might cry if Qui-Gon so much as imagined touching him.

Chuckling, Qui-Gon managed to turn them, while staying inside him, until they rested on their sides. He curved his body around Obi-Wan’s, long and lean and warm. Obi-Wan settled back against him, body exhausted, mind quiet, sated. The Force hummed around them and through their bond. It was the most content Obi-Wan could remember being since before the war started.

Qui-Gon pressed a kiss to Obi-Wan’s temple. “I can’t be out there with you,” he said and Obi-Wan knew he’d caught that last thought. “Can’t fight next to you or watch your back. But I’m glad I can offer you somewhere to seek solace.”

Obi-Wan tucked his head against Qui-Gon’s chin. “I’m glad you’re here to do so.”

[noneatnonedotcom]

The Enemy Above

Onboard the VCS Wicker Man a young huntsman sat, beside him, the crew of the ship hurried about their jobs. The previous captain, having suffered a wound in a recent skirmish with atlas, was missing leaving jaune in charge of the bridge and the team of huntresses down below. 

Team ABRY or ambry as they were known, had been formed in battle. The white fang had assaulted the dust stores used for the ships in Vale. Only a timely intervention by blake (their resident secret faunas who wasn’t so secret to jaune) had seen the scheme thwarted. And only the assistance of yang and ruby had let him actually pull off his plan to stop them.

After that, he’d claimed blake as a fellow hunter and ozpin had shown up to back his claim (a good thing too as a faunas outside of menagerie was unheard of and would have resulted in her getting jailed alongside her former comrades, it likely would have been death for her and they both knew it) the only cost for the assist was that their new team become permanent. They’d done more missions in their time as huntsmen-in-training of vale than most adults and with the war between atlas and vale heating up had been stationed on a frigate to hopefully stay out of trouble. The betrayal of team CVFY and the revelation of velvet to be a faunas had quickly put the kibosh on that.

Now having had the ship repaired they were returning to vale proper to get their new captain to work in concert with jaune.

“Sir Arc,” came a voice to his side “we’re picking up something strange on the radar”

He looked over at the crewman “what kind of something?”

“It looks like another ship”

Jaune frowned, he wasn’t sure they could handle another fight “have there been any reports around this route before?”

“No sir no reports”

Jaune frowned “none at all?”

An older crewman came over to look “ah, the kids just picked up a radar reflection, see there? The other ship is copying our exact speed and turning” the older woman looked to jaune “nothing to worry about Sir Arc”

Jaune frowned more, he could feel it in his gut something wasn’t right. And after the last few times, he wasn’t willing to risk it just being a feeling. He touched a button and called down to his team “ruby, yang, blake, report to the bridge immediately. Weapons with you. And pick up my armor as well, would you?”

It was yang’s voice that came over the line “feeling fancy captain? You want the cape with it?”

“I’m not a captain yang, and yeah I got the feeling I’m gonna have to make an impression here” he sighed as she signed off “helmsman alter our course a little, bring us close to that peak into cloud bank”

“Aye sir” came the voice and jaune went to the ready room, trying desperately to suppress the feeling of dread he felt 

Onboard the AS Anguilla, a young Weiss Schnee stalked her prey. She was young the youngest specialist in the Atlan naval core but she was the best, second only to perhaps her older sister winter. 

Some whispered of buying her station at the start of the war but she had shown through her victories that they were simply idle chatter of the lesser classes. She was the best of the best. And that was why she had to question the point of sending her after this Jaune Arc.

Yes, he was just as young as her and still in a command position but the valeian savages didn’t have their own robust command structure. He likely had no real tactical training and no further support. If there was any advantage to the lance doctrine of vale it was that it was utterly chaotic and the brutes seemed to thrive on that.

His ship was a standard ship of the primitive people, a frigate class. Though she noticed the above standard set of three five-inch guns of a strange make on the deck of the ship. It was a gravity dust forged hull, with hard light dust forged armor plating, it was faster than her own cruiser but her own weapons were something to behold. 

Nine eight-inch-guns, and ten smaller 5-inch guns of her own. Her hull was also made of gravity dust forged steel and her armor was a true hard light shield an advancement that had seen her ship through combat action after combat action. Her heavy cruiser was also equipped with a heavy MAC cannon. Something that was more than enough to see her through taking vale itself. For what ship or station could hope to survive a ball of molten plasma the size of a small ship fired at it?

Yes, this would be a simple mission and she would go home to her sister with just another feather in her cap.

“Okay so let’s assume you’re not going insane,” said blake sitting on a chair as ruby and yang helped their leader into his armor “why the cloud bank, all they have to do is wait for us to break out of it when we run they can just go above it. At least for a short while”

“And if it’s as big as you say,” said ruby grunting to latch a final strap “even out coil guns aren’t gonna do much”

“We have a couple of tungsten rounds left from our fight with CFVY,” said yang

“So… we’ll be able to hurt them a little before we blow up?”

“We can’t outrun them,” said jaune “we’re faster but the range they have would mean we’re gonna be full of holes before we can even get a radio signal out”

“We still don’t know they’re there,” said blake “there are no reports of anything being wrong around here”

“Exactly,” said jaune latching his cape onto his armor “we’ve got no reports, none! When was the last time you had a huntsman not complain about lack of combat? Or even Grimm?”

Blake’s eyes widened “oh shit, and you’re saying it has to be a big ship because-”

“ a small ship wouldn’t be able to destroy a cruiser before they could radio out for help,” said ruby

“And a ship without reach wouldn’t be able to stop the smaller ones,” said jaune nodding his head

Yang blew a strand of hair out of her face “this is why I prefer fighting on the ground, less thinking involved”

Jaune laughed “that’s typically because I’m too busy screaming to come up with a plan”

Ruby smiled “but you always look out for us”

Blake nodded “it might still be nothing,” she said closing her book “but I’m more than willing to trust your judgment”

Yang cracked her knuckles “so what’s the plan?”

“We go into the cloud bank, they’ll have t follow us because they’re trying to convince us they’re a radar reflection. We jam the radar once we’re in”

“We’ll be blind then,” said blake 

“But we still have that weather device thing installed, we’ll be able to see them based on cloud displacement,” said jaune with a smirk

“And they’re big enough that we’ll actually pick up on it unlike us who will look like an eddy in the wind if they’re even carrying meteorological equipment” blake finished for him

“They should be,” said ruby “a ship that big would be a shame to lose it to something as simple as a summer storm”

“WE’VE LOST RADAR” came the shout of her crew 

Weiss cursed “clever bastard, had us figured from the start, well you can’t hide for” she froze he wouldn’t be hiding, he was a smart enough commander to know she was chasing him  “ALL HANDS BRACE FOR IMPACT, SHIELDS UP! HELMSMAN GET US OUT OF THIS CLOUD BANK!” she shouted orders at a rapid rate barely getting her ship’s shields up in time to block five of the six rounds. The first somehow tearing through her hull like tissue paper.

“FIND HIM!” she shouted as her crew scrambled to get their other systems working “DAMAGE REPORT!” 

“HULL BREACH ON LEVEL FOUR. CIRCUITRY WAS HIT BUT AUXILIARY SYSTEMS ARE FINE. HE MISSED OUR WEAPONS AND ENGINES BY A FEW INCHES WE WERE LUCKY MA’AM” came the voice of penny hooked into their intercoms

“HOW LONG TILL WE’RE COMBAT READY?” asked Weiss shouting to be heard over the alarms

“WEAPONS ARE ONLINE, FUEL FOR SHIELDS IS LOW. WE’VE LOST THE ABILITY FOR A DRAWN OUT ENGAGEMENT MA’AM. I RECOMMEND RETREAT HE’S BEATEN US”

“NOT YET HE HASN’T!”  shouted Weiss “HOW MANY EDDIES DO WE SEE?”

“WHAT?”  asked a crewman

“HOW MANY!”

“SIX”

“FIRE ON ALL OF THEM!”

Jaune cursed as dust rounds flew past his ship exploding and tossing them about. She didn’t know where they were but she was just going to fire on every eddy. And eventually, she’d hit them, what was her game? She wouldn’t panic unless! “Full astern!” he shouted as the ship moved back rapidly not a second too soon as in the exact place he was before a massive light passed through the open-air scenting the air with ozone 

“OH FUCK!” shouted yang summing up everyone’s feelings on the matter

“WHAT WAS THAT?!” yelled blake covering her ears 

“JAUNE!” shouted ruby clinging too him

“Open fire and move us out of here, I want continuous fire! Not a second for them to get that ready. Use out light ammo we’re not getting through that shield!” he did his best to keep his voice level. Right now he needed to get distance. He just had to make it to nightfall but to do that he needed to prevent that weapon from firing and he was guessing that something like that required a lot of power. Maybe enough that they had to drop their shields to use it. If not…

Well, fuck it shooting it made them all feel better at least.

The gunbattle lasted hours as flashes lit up the clouds. The wicker man could fire and move but all it would take is one hit and they were toast more to the point the enemy ship had exited the clouds earlier and now the only reason he knew where the damn thing was was that it wanted him to shoot at it so it could shoot back, meanwhile unknown to the vale ship. The fuel for the shields was running low. The stockpile of hard light dust was not infinite and that initial shot had been plenty lucky but the constant firing gave her own crew a chance to catch them as the angle of impact gave them away. 

The sounds of battle faded with the setting of the sun as The Anguilla surveyed the cloud bank below it. 

“We’re out of hard light dust ma’am” came the words of Penny “I would recommend retreat”

“We run and he’ll gun us down,” said Weiss “the second we give away our position he’ll fire and now we don’t have the shields to protect us” she cursed her own temper. She just had to be the best. 

Now her crew’s blood was on her hands

“Our only hope,” she said raising her voice “ is to find them before they find us, and destroy them. I’m ordering complete silence”

She sat there, they sat there. For hours. Eight in total of complete silence. And in the first, she’d realized that jaune Arc had to be doing the same. It would be the one who blinked first that would lose. 

The tension was the worst part of it. The constant fear.

It was at the end of the eighth hour that she heard it

“MY BODY IS A CAGE OF FLAMES” came a voice in the darkness she sat stunned as the crew began to bring their guns about

“THE BURNING YET VERDANT GIANT!”  what was he doing?

“RETRIBUTION, A SHRINE THAT PRESIDES OVER HUMAN AFFAIRS AND PURIFIES THEM” had he lost his mind? Was the pressure just too much for him?

“I AM THE ONE WHO DESTROYS!” 

Weiss realised it too late “NO WAIT!”

Her men fired and the flash of her guns lit up an automated message buoy floating through the clouds

“THE WICKER MAN!” three sets of five-inch guns fired tungsten rounds from their electromagnetic barrels. 

Of course. That’s why he was able to pierce her hull so easily once he got past the shield

They tore through her ship hitting the engines. The force of the explosion knocked her out.

Her last thoughts were “he’s a sorcerer. Able to pull the very thoughts from my head”

Jaune stood overlooking his med bay, really it was the brig but they’d had to refurbish it for the crew they’d dragged from The Anguilla.

“This all of them?” he asked Ruby as she walked up behind him

“Yeah, only these ten, standard crew was three hundred and twenty-two”

Jaune tried not to let the number get to him “it’ll be worst for her” he said looking at the captain “I know the feeling”

“You did pretty well I’d say”

Jaune shook his head “I’m not made for this Ruby. That entire battle those men looked to me and…” they both fell silent

“What if I had made the wrong choice?” he asked in the quiet of the room

“Then we’d adapt,” said Ruby “we’re not like Atlas, we trust you jaune but we’re not helpless without you. If you made a mistake we’d have called you on it. Just like I’m doing now”

He turned to look at her only to catch a non plused look from Ruby  “you’re an idiot, jaune” she said in the stunned silence “you’re your own greatest critic and if we caught anyone talking about you the way you talk about yourself we’d kick their ass. You won today, against a ship you had no business winning against. They had you beat in firepower, tech, they had every advantage and a commander almost as good as you on top of it, and you pulled victory from the jaws of defeat. You saved us. Have some damn pride!”

He chuckled shaking his head “we’re taking a vacation the second we get back to vale”

“Oh can we visit patch?” asked ruby surprising jaune

“Yeah we really should check on the old man huh?” said yang appearing out of nowhere 

“Already taking him to meet your father huh? Asked blake with a teasing tone

“I-i- no it’s not, well I wouldn’t mind... The thing is” ruby flushed red and tried to force a sentence out 

“Eh captain here wants to give me or ruby a shot I wouldn’t mind,” said yang with a smirk. “or maybe you want us both, so greedy captain” a wink and Jaune let himself get caught up in the moment blushing and stammering.

When they got back to vale, he’d most likely get a bunch of medals or something. He’d be paraded around as a hero for all the little huntsmen in training and that would bring all sorts of troubles for his team and him but for now, he’d just bask in the comfort of yang ruby and blake all acting like they were flirting with him and pretend it might actually happen one day.

He had his team, that was all he needed

________________________________________________________________

so this was an experiment, please give my some feedback about it. but the general idea is that it’s based off the ideal huntsman system i speculated about a while back. it’s based off some space battles i watched way back when and i did my best with it. 

if you can guess which battle in particular i’m mimicking let me know too but seriously let me know what you thought of the story

[tenroseforeverandever]

Chartreuse

Characters: Ninth Doctor; Rose Tyler; Jack Harkness

Pairing: Nine x Rose

Tags: Limes; Fluff; Humour; Drama; Jack being Jack; language; one-shot

Summary: Panic ensues when Rose doesn't recognize the colour chartreuse, but in the end, the repercussions of her misjudgment are nothing like what she expected.

Notes: Written for a “Guess the Author” prompt in the Doctor x Rose Discord: “Oh, shit! Oh, fuck! That was the wrong button.” It was supposed to be a maximum of 500 words, so I failed at that spectacularly, but my muse was insistent.

My undying thanks to @aintfraidanoghosts, @rose--nebula, and mrsbertucci for helping me brainstorm ideas for this fic and coming up with some killer Jack-lines that I was able to adapt to fit! You are all geniuses and I love you! @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci, your betaing was, as always, stellar. Where would I be without you? <3<3<3

All mistakes are well and truly mine. Read also at: AO3; FF; Tsp (when approved)

------

Chartreuse 

“Seriously,” Rose leaned back against the TARDIS console and gazed up at the infinite ceiling above her, “the Doctor’s jus’ my friend. That’s all!”

Jack’s head and shoulders slid out from under the console. He scoffed and fixed Rose with an expression that could only be described as incredulous. “Yeah, right. You keep tellin’ yourself that, Rosie.”

“Well, it’s true, innit?” Rose countered, unable to prevent the flush that burned over her cheeks.

“I’m just sayin’, play your cards right, and your status could be upgraded to friends-with-benefits.” He gave her a lascivious wink and disappeared again. The clatter of his tinkering resumed. 

“I wish…” Rose huffed, folding her arms heavily across her chest.

“Hand me that hyperspanner, will you?” His hand shot out to accept the tool and Rose smacked it into his hand a bit harder than was strictly necessary.

A few seconds later, Jack’s voice sounded from under the console again: “Hey, I need you to do something for me…”

Rose grinned. “As long as it doesn’t involve me takin’ off my clothes!”

“Clothing is always optional, in my books, but I’m sorry to say, nudity isn't strictly necessary, so you’re off the hook... this time!”

The cheek of him! “Dream on!” 

“Hey, cut me a little slack, dreams are all I got these days. Can’t get any action around here when you and the Doc only have eyes–” 

“Right,” Rose quickly cut him off, refocusing his attention on the task at hand, “w’at d’ya need me to do?”

“Okay, okay I’ll back off. Promise! Do you see that little panel of buttons, just to your right?”

Rose turned around and scanned the console, quickly locating the multicoloured panel. “Got it.”

“Need you to do this quick, okay? I’m just unhooking everything right now and this flow regulator is no lightweight.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Do ya see the chartreuse one?”

“Chartreuse? Seriously? Pull the other one! I mean, mauve was bad enough but–”

“C’mon, Rose! Get the hell out of the 21st Century and just find the damn button! My arms are falling off, here!”

“All right, all right! Don’t get your knickers in a twist.” Rose concentrated on the buttons in front of her. Chartreuse was sorta greenish, yeah?  “The one at the middle left?”

Jack groaned. “Urrrghh, no! That’s the jade one. Top row!”

Rose rolled her eyes and redirected her attention. A deep, bright greenish one glinted at her cheerfully. “Oooh, I got it!”

“Okay, now, on my mark, I need you to press and hold it for about a minute. That should be enough time for me to reattach the regulator. Ready?”

“Jus’ say the word!”

“Go!”

Rose stabbed at the button depressing it with a satisfying clunk. “Done!” Keeping her finger firmly on it, she leaned back and contemplated the ceiling again. “It’s jus’…” she addressed Jack again, pausing as her voice seemed to echo through the console room (a bit weird, that…) “It’s jus’, the Doctor says he’s danced, yeah, but what does that even mean? Does he even ‘ave all the necessary bits?”

Jack’s howls of laughter hurtled around the console room the way her voice had. “Are you kidding me? Have you seen how he looks at you?”

“He does not!”

“Yeah, he does! In fact, ogles would be a better word to use. Add in a bit of drool and doe-eyes and you get the picture. Believe me, Rosie, only someone with all the necessary bits looks at another person like that. I’m tellin’ ya, forget dancing; give him a little encouragement and you and the Time Lord’ll be doing the Horizontal Tango in no time.”

A few seconds passed in silence before Jack’s impatient bark startled her. “Hey! You’re supposed to hold down the button and keep holding it!” His face poked out, frowning up at her.

“What the ‘ell do you think I’ve been doin’?”

His face distorted in panic. “Wait! Why can I hear our voices?” He clambered up to stand beside her.

“I know, right? Thought that was bit–”

“It’s like they’re being… Oh God!” Jack’s voice reverberated especially loudly around the room, and his eyes snapped to where Rose’s finger was firmly depressing the button. “Oh fuck!” He swatted her hand away from the console.

“Oi!” Rose snapped, but she noticed her voice had stopped echoing.

“That was not the right button! Tell me,” he faced her, hands on his hips, “how is that chartreuse?”

“Seemed chartreusish to me. And it was in the top row like you said.” She shrugged, guilt warring with irritation. How was she supposed to know exactly what shade of green chartreuse was?

“That’s emerald, sweetheart!” Then he stabbed with his finger toward a button two to the right of the apparently-emerald one. “This is chartreuse, right here!”

Rose’s stomach sank as she peered at the greenish yellow button Jack had indicated. “So, the one I was holdin’ down? That’s why our voices sounded–”

“Oh, it’s way worse than that. Pressing that button initiated a ship-wide broadcast–”

“Yes, it did.”

Rose wheeled around at the smug sound of the Doctor’s voice. He stood, leaning against a coral strut, leather-clad arms folded across his chest, icy-blue eyes boring into her. Gulping around the lump in her throat, she replayed in her mind all the words she and Jack had spoken while she’d been holding down that bloody button. Oh God! She’d been talking about his bits, for fuck’s sake! And there was something Jack had said about doing the Horizontal Tango… She’d never wanted to vanish into thin air so badly in her entire, miserable life. Forget dancing; she’d be lucky if the Doctor didn’t drop her at home, pronto, after this escapade.

He unfolded himself and strode toward her. Rose jutted her chin out, ready to accept his censure with some level of dignity.

Jack threw his hands up in surrender as the Doctor brushed aggressively past him. “To be fair, Doc, I defended your bits!” he declared, practically throwing Rose under the proverbial bus.

She groaned.

“And what would you know about my bits, Harkness?” the Doctor snarled.

“Not nearly enough,” Jack leered at him with a filthy smirk, “but you’re always welcome to–”

“Shut up, Harkness. And while you’re at it, scram! I’ll deal with you later.”

“Promises, promises…” Jack beamed as he backed out of the room, shooting Rose a cheeky wink and a double thumbs-up from behind the Doctor’s shoulder. Rose just gaped at him. How could he possibly think this situation was positive in any way whatsoever?

His eyes never leaving Rose’s, the Doctor waited until the sound of Jack’s footsteps receded into the depths of the TARDIS. Then, he stepped toward her, effectively trapping her against the console. He glared down at her; ice blazing with hot, blue flame: that was the only way she could describe his eyes. She ducked her head, feeling small under his scrutiny.

“Rose Tyler.” Her name rolled out of his mouth, low and gravelly.

She forced herself to meet his gaze again. “A-about w’at you may ‘ave ‘eard…,” she stammered, rubbing her forehead with shaking fingers, “…well, you know how conversations with Jack go? Completely off the rails, yeah?”

He was silent, only the slightest narrowing of his eyes and subtle twitch of his brow indicating he had heard her words. He took another step, impossibly closer, forcing her to lean back against the console to maintain eye contact. Then, he placed his hands on either side of her and leaned in, so their foreheads were nearly touching.

“Seems to me,” he growled under his breath, “you were the one questioning my virility.”

Rose could feel his breath, cool against her cheek, his lips so close to hers. Her own lips parted in anticipation, a yearning ache forming deep in her core. Coupled with his proximity, it stirred in her a reckless bravado and she tilted her head ever-so-slightly, encouraging him. “Well, it seems to me,” she purred, “you ‘ave somethin’ to prove, then, yeah?”

Something rumbled deep in his chest and he moved ever closer. (Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Just a little further…) He was so close, a hair’s-breadth was all that was left between them. Rose’s heart throbbed out the long, tense moments, but she didn’t dare move. She had thrown down the gauntlet. It was his to pick up.

Then suddenly his lips were on hers, possessive and demanding, yet wonderfully soft and welcoming. She opened to him, unstintingly, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing the edge of her lips, sending a jolt of desire tingling from the base of her spine, all the way to the tips of her fingers and toes. Instinctively, her hips bucked in response, thrusting against him, and meeting the undeniable evidence of his arousal.

She gasped, and he broke the kiss, offering her a cocky, lop-sided smirk. “I hate to admit it, but this time Harkness was right.” He chuckled softly. “I do have all the necessary bits.”

“Yeah, ya sure do,” Rose choked out, hardly able to believe what was happening.

Chuckling again, the Doctor helped her to stand upright, then cupped her face reverently with both hands and bestowed her with another passionate kiss. Rose’s knees turned to jelly when, next, he whispered in her ear. “May I have this dance, Rose Tyler?”

“You… you mean dance-dance, yeah?”

“Yeah, if you’re willin’… And I promise you, love,” he added with a roll of his eyes, “it will not be anything so gauche as a ‘Horizontal Tango.’ Bloody Harkness.”

She nodded, giggling, unable to form words.

“And speaking of whom,” he wrapped an arm around her, guiding her away from the console, “I think we’d best take this somewhere more private.”

Many fantastic hours later, Rose lay panting and sated on the rich, burgundy sheets of the Doctor’s bed. He had proven, time and again, without a doubt, that he had all the necessary bits and knew how to use them spectacularly well.

[365days365movies]

February 23, 2021: His Girl Friday (1940) (Part 1)

Oh, we’re going BACK for this one!

Yeah, this is smack dab in the Golden Age of Cinema! Post-depression, the cinematic culture boomed like CRAZY. Obviously, this age had started before this point, but there was no stopping Hollywood here. I mean, in 1940 alone, Disney came out with Pinocchio AND Fantasia, films like The Grapes of Wrath, The Great Dictator, and Rebecca came out, and some of those were prefaced by short cartoons featuring a brand new certain someone.

Oh, also, there was some war of the world 2 thing going on overseas, I dunno. But anyway! Another well-known film that came out that year was The Philadelphia Story, a George Cukor-directed film starring Cary Grant and Katherine Hepburn, and one of a subgenre of comedies called the screwball comedy.

Arguably starting with the 1934 film It Happened One Night, these are romantic comedies that usually feature a self-confident and stubborn female protagonist inevitably falling in love with the male protagonist, who’s probably initially mismatched with her, personality-wise. You should also throw some slapstick comedy, disguises (cross-dressing’s a feature of a lot of these, weirdly), and class struggle. Yeah, also apparently a trend of these films, that were CRAZY popular from 1934 through the ‘40s.

And in case you’re thinking, “That plot structure sounds familiar, where have I heard that before?”, well, I just watched a later-era screwball comedy, Pillow Talk.

But today, the screwball comedy’s mostly disappeared. Some tropes survive, but the reason for the genre’s extinction is simply because of lack of demand. Part of that is because the genre emerged due to questions of class struggle post-Great Depression. Yeah, seriously, the Great Depression is involved in this shit! Obviously, though, that’s not currently as much of a stressor now, so this genre is dead save for some conventions.

But OK, screwball comedy. Why not look at older members of the genre, rather than this film from smack dab in the middle of it? Well, a few reasons. One, this film stars leading man Cary Grant in his prime. And two, because this film was directed by the one and only Howard Hawks.

Hawks directed yet another Grant-Hepburn vehicle, Bringing Up Baby. And yes, that IS a leopard in a car! I’d watch that this month, but I’ve already seen it. Anyway, Hawks is an understated but excellent director, and his female characters are an archetype in and of themselves, known as Hawksian women. They’re tough-talkers, and the main characters of most old screwball comedies.

OK, but Hawks had a lot of romance films with these characters, so why His Girl Friday? Well, other than knowing it from pure reputation as a good movie, it’s also been called one of the best romcoms of all time, and it’s one of his highest rated films as well. And honestly...I kinda just wanted to watch it based on the premise, which is...interesting. But OK, enough navel-gazing. On with the show! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

We start in a newspaper office in the year 1940, where “Hildy” Johnson (Rosalind Russell) has arrives with her fiancee, Bruce Baldwin (Ralph Bellamy), a sweet man who clearly loves her. Shit. He’s the guy destined to be left behind for the actual love interest of the movie Goddamn it, OK.

Anyway, Hildy apparently used to work here, although I’m not sure of the capacity as of yet. She’s only here now to visit her ex-husband, chief editor Walter Burns (Cary Grant). Their reunion is a bt icy, although Walter still seems to be in love with her still, while Hildy’s absolutely not interested. For now.

And as the two have a back-and-forth, I gotta say, GODDAMN is this some snappy dialogue! Fast-paced, but well-written and understandable all the same. It shuld also be noted that this film was adapted from a 1928 play, The Front Page, and it shows in how these two are playing in front of the screen. Their chemistry’s basically immediate, and you sense an unseen history between them easily.

What I’m saying is, it’s great. Anyway, the two have gotten divorced, and while Walter originally agreed, he’s now fighting the divorce to stay with Hildy, even though she doesn’t want that at all. He’s been calling her constantly, and bugging her. He also talks over her, trying to prevent her from getting a word in edgewise, and Hildy ain’t fuckin’ HAVING that shit!

He asks her to come back to work for him as a reporter (THERE’S the connection to the office), and if that doesn’t work out...they can get married again? Yeah, Walter, Jesus, take a hint. She tells Walter that she’s not coming back to him, and not coming back to work on the paper.

The two, through increasingly impressive dialogue, argue intensely, which is capped off by this well-timed and impressive dodge by Walter, followed by a crack that her aim used to be better.

This movie...holy shit, this movie. Anyway, through the argument, Walter gets a call and pretends that one of his reporters called out sick, in order to get Hildy to work one more job for him. Whoof, that’s manipulatiiiiiiive. But she breaks through his constant pressing to finally tell him that she’s now engaged, and is quitting the newspaper business.

Walter insists that quitting would kill her, s she’s a “newspaperman,” which is interesting. But she’s tired of it all, and wants to live a respectable, normal life, as she says. Her fiancee is an insurance man, which Walter notes is too boring. But Hildy notes that he’s kind, sweet, and considerate, and wants a home and children, and her mind is made up.

Walter relents (seemingly) , and gives Hildy his blessings. However, he decides that he wants to meet Bruce in person, and goes out to say hello, That results in...what is legitimately a VERY funny interaction between Water, Bruce, and a random-ass dude named Pete Davis. It is...it is funny.

So, for the record, Walter’s a verbally-manipulative asshole, and...I kind of like him? Like, he’s an ABSOLUTE DICK, but also a charmer. He quickly coerces Hildy and Bruce into getting lunch at a local place. There, we learn that the two are planning on moving to Albany, where Bruce is confident that the insurance business is strong. I’ve been to Albany, and I can see that.

Walter, during the lunch, is once again a DICK, doing his best to intimidate Bruce and sabotage their plans to leave for Albany that day. He makes his way to the phone, where he schemes with Duffy (Frank Orth) to keep her in town. Back at the table, he tells her of the case of Earl Williams.

Williams is, apparently, a man recently convicted of shooting a police officer...who was black...and they use a word to describe him that begins with a C...that makes me uncomfortablllllllllllle. But it’s 1940, so it could be FAR worse. Anyway, he’s going to be executed, even though he claims that he’s innocence. And while Hildy’s intrigued by the case, she refuses to cover it for Walter.

UNTIL, that is, Walter offers to buy an insurance policy from Bruce for $100000 in 1940 money, which means a commission for $18,000 in today’s money. Uh...yeah. Yes, please. And yet, Bruce says NO, not wanting to involve his future wife in his affairs, like a GODDAMN GENTLEMAN. But Hildy don’t give a FUCK, and basically accepts the deal for him. And, uh, I DO NOT blame her, that’s a lot of goddamn money!

Understandably not trusting Walter, she has Bruce give her all of the money that they have, to his equally understandable reluctance. Because there is NO WAY that she isn’t gonna lose all of that money. We find out from a group of reporters staying near the prison that Williams is to be hung tomorrow, and that he’s a bookkeeper that was recently unemployed.

Meanwhile, after a doctor’s check-up, Bruce and Walter write up the life insurance, and Walter tells Bruce to make Hildy his beneficiary. And Bruce is understandably awkward about that, but Walter ends up convincing him, the smooth and conniving DICK that he is.

Duffy walks in to give Walter a check for more money than originally intended, and it’s even been certified! Which is...odd, but OK. Bruce calls Hildy to let her know, and she’s very suspicious. She tells Bruce to put the check in the lining of his hat, claiming that it’s an old journalist’s superstition (it is not). Looks like she’s right to be suspicious, as Walter brings in a short gentleman for unknown reasons. He follows Bruce out as he leaves the office.

Meanwhile, Hildy brides a prison guard to speak with Earl Williams (John Qualen) before his execution. He’s a shy and bookish man, who was thought to become radicalized by people speaking in a pubic park, where he went after losing his job. This, it’s believed by the press and court, eventually drove him to go insane and kill the policeman. 

But Earl seems perfectly sane, and committing murder goes against his morals. He also wasn’t won over by said radical park speakers, although he admits one of them made some good points. But still, he had a gun, and he apparently did shoot the policeman. 

In their interview, Hildy learns that the man in the park was talking about “production for use”, which is the idea that everything produced should be used, basically in a way that production meets demand, and profit is less important than product. Which, granted, is an interesting idea. But Hildy uses that to convince Earl that he shot the gun because he had it in his hands. And since the gun was produced, it needed to be used, so...

Well, that’s...something. We also learn about Mollie Malloy (Helen Mack), who’s been unfairly labeled by the press as Earl’s mistress and the witness to his case. And she gives a very passionate and heartfelt plea with the male journalists, who are...vicious. And Mollie’s hurt indeed. And while she’s there, they all treat her terribly.

But she breaks down in front of them even further when she sees the gallows being prepared outside. And as Hildy takes her out, the men left behind actually do seem ashamed. And in a single stroke, in a single scene, the film uses an immense moment of drama to show exactly why Hildy wants to leave, and the things that it makes people in this profession do. It’s...masterful.

Good place to pause! See you in Part 2!

[gdcee]

Late March 1727, HMS Superb

Somewhere in the Caribbean Sea

James knew Commodore St. Lo as he knew many of the officers stationed in the West Indies and the Americas. That is to say, he was on amicable terms with most of them, but they were more or less professional acquaintances. The only officers James considered friends were Andrew and Theo. He was content for everyone else from work to remain acquaintances - some friendly, and others not so much.

James had considered St. Lo to be one of the friendly acquaintances. He was the consummate career soldier - not particularly creative or brilliant, but sensible, determined and thorough. He was reliable and loyal, with decades of experience and a strong sense of justice.

This unfortunately had resulted in him being given the most thankless and dull assignments the Navy had to offer. St. Lo had initially been posted to the Newfoundland Station, where he had to contend with uncooperative, corrupt governors, a non-productive fishery and perpetual turf wars between the colonists and fishermen. Then, late last year, he had been ordered to take command of the Porto Bello Blockade to replace the then recently deceased Vice-Admiral Hosier - a task just as thankless and dull, but far more unpleasant and potentially life-threatening. 

St. Lo regarded James gravely from under his heavy, bushy grey eyebrows. The rims of his eyes were red and his gaze slightly unfocused.

“I have received your report, Captain Norrington,” he said, his voice noticeably hoarse, “I would like to hear your justification for engaging the Spanish Treasure Fleet when our orders are to refrain from any actions that could be interpreted as a direct incursion on Porto Bello.”

"It was my understanding that we were to prevent the Spanish Treasure Fleet from leaving the Caribbean.”

“Indeed. I have listened to the accounts of the captured Spanish officers, and they say that you took no action to stop them.”

“I was not initially aware that anyone had left. It was very dark, sir.”

“Somehow, you became aware that five ships had slipped past, so you left your post in the blockade. Not only that, you convinced the commanders of The Dauntless, The Portland and The Greyhound to join you in your misconduct.”

“I am flattered that you have such a high opinion of my oratory skills, sir.”

Truthfully, it hadn’t taken much convincing. Theo had been itching to do something productive and Commanders Harris and Fowler were notoriously combative and greedy for prize money. The real challenge had been keeping the Dreadful Duo under control until the time was right.

“The Spanish officers stated that it was two days before you made contact.”

James had been quite pleased that his little ragtag squadron had been able to stalk the galleons and their escorting warships undetected until they had cleared Spanish maritime borders.

“Yes. Once we caught up, I hailed them from The Interceptor, and informed them that they were to return immediately to Porto Bello,” James said mildly, his brows rising and lowering reflexively as he added, “They weren't very cooperative.”

“...you think yourself very clever, don't you, Captain Norrington?”

Well, quite frankly, yes. Why should he not? He had managed to deny Spain a great deal of treasure, the shipwrights back in Portsmouth now had two new state-of-the-art frigates to study, and he had managed to do all of that without explicitly violating any of Walpole’s asinine orders.

James did not say of that, of course.

“I cannot say,” he instead demurred, “I was taught that it is considered bad form to blow one's own trumpet.”

“Ha.” St. Lo said humourlessly, “If only your sparkling wit gave amusement alone instead of coming bundled with stress and headaches.”

James couldn’t help but feel a little sheepish. St. Lo had obviously been given a difficult and thankless task. The poor bugger looked like death warmed up. He didn’t deserve to have more burdens added to his load.

But the senseless deaths, the utter uselessness of the Blockade - these injustices were exactly why James could not simply sit and do nothing.

"If my actions have caused you distress,” he said quietly, “I apologize. However, I do not regret my actions, and if any disciplinary action is to be taken-”

“Don't be daft,” St. Lo coughed raggedly into his handkerchief, “Your little squadron captured three galleons, two warships and a big fucking pile of gold. The Admiralty and Whitehall are pleased as punch. Of course, they want me to make a show of smacking you on the nose like a naughty dog, but rest assured, no one wants you gone. Not even Walpole.”

“Fucking Walpole,” James muttered.

“I don’t like Cock Robin any more than you do,” he sighed, “But you’d best be careful not to make yourself any more visible to the most powerful man in London. Right now, he’s only annoyed, and he’s hardly going to say no to a million pesos in gold. If you decide to play hard and fast again and the outcome turns out not to be so lucrative...” His lips thinned and his bleary blue eyes sharpened for an instant and fixed him with a hard stare. “It might not end so well for you.”

James met his stare firmly without flinching.

“Well, then,” he said, “I suppose this means I shall have to be careful not to make any mistakes.”

[allthefilmsiveseenforfree]

Jaws

I never claimed to be a film scholar, and that’s why I was almost 33 years old before I saw Jaws the first time (and yes, it is my birthday next week thank you so much for asking!) It’s not that I never wanted to - but by the time I had overcome my fear that Jaws was going to eat me in my bathtub, I didn’t want to watch it cut up by commercials on a Saturday afternoon on TNT and we didn’t own it and if you think I was going to waste my one pick at Blockbuster on a movie from 25 years ago instead of renting Now and Then for the fifth time, you are just a plain fool. So here we are in a quarantine and I’m doing some much needed catching up.

One thing I’ve discovered about these classic completely-permeated-in-pop-culture films is that they’re not immune to the phenomenon of high expectations->very disappointed. I was a little worried that, because I’ve had the “you’re gonna need a bigger boat” scene imprinted on my retinas since I was about 7 years old, the film just wouldn’t have the same oomph as it did when it became the world’s first true blockbuster. So, to an avid movie-watcher like me, does Jaws still have teeth? Well...

This is not a controversial opinion - yeah, it does. Jaws is pretty fucking awesome. Sometimes things really are that simple. For the uninitiated (although honestly who doesn’t know the plot of Jaws), it’s pretty simple. There’s a shark. Like....a really big one. He’s feeling peckish, and starts looking for snacks around Amity Island, a touristy (fictional) beach community somewhere off the coast of New England. The local chief of police, Brody (Roy Scheider) is staunchly anti-shark attack but the mayor is like “we’ll just have to accept the risk that the weak ones will die because we can’t shut the economy down!” But because this is a fantasy movie, after 4 people die, the authorities do everything they can to stop the threat, including hiring a scientist named Hooper from the Oceanographic Institute (Richard Dreyfuss), and a crusty ol’ sea captain named Quint (Robert Shaw) to hunt the shark down and kill it. 

Some thoughts:

That John Williams score just kicks you in the teeth right from the beginning, doesn’t it.

It’s interesting, regarding all the scenes I’ve seen just in the context of living in a world where Jaws is part of pop culture - they always come in these little 30-second bursts without the context, enough to suggest the dread and terror but not really sit in it for long. As a result, this first initial shark attack scene goes on for SO MUCH LONGER than I was expecting. I was genuinely disturbed.

I’m seeing many Very Good dogs, which is fantastic news. There’s the Chief’s cocker spaniel, there’s a frisky black Lab on the beach chasing a stick, a couple more when all the fisherman are arriving, and many puppers in boats!

WAIT IS PIPPET OK

I mean, I know it’s sad that kid Alex got eaten on his raft but why haven’t they given us reassurance that Pippet is ok??

This intro to Quint is truly one of the best character introductions I’ve ever seen. What an iconic and instantly memorable performance, this salty, grizzled fisherman/bounty hunter who literally never stops talking. He’s a walking sea shanty, a collection of dirty jokes held together with sheepshank knots and moonshine. I love him in spite of his vague, amorphous sexism and relentless repetition of the same terrible song.

God, I had no idea how young Richard Dreyfuss is in this!

I already knew a lot of the parallels existed, but Wife wanted me to point out explicitly that watching this film is deeply upsetting in the time of Covid-19. The same willful ignorance, the same disregard for public safety, and the same reverence for “the economy” at all cost to human life is relevant, to say the least.

It’s easy to forget, but having watched more of his early stuff in the past few months, I completely get why Steven Spielberg was such an absolute lightning bolt to the film industry. The naturalistic way everyone talks, the overlapping dialogue, the use of light with the moon on the ocean and these spotlights in the fog, that iconic dolly zoom shot - it really is unlike any other director’s films, especially in this era. 

Who the fuck does this mayor think he is? If the people are at the beach, isn’t that enough? Why do you NEED them to go in the water? How does that help you? If they’re on the beach and not swimming, you get the best of both worlds - people are there spending money and they’re also y’know, not dead.

I’ve seen the moment dozens of times, and everyone knows the line, but goddammit when we first see the shark in all his glory and Brody says “You’re gonna need a bigger boat” it honest to god made my heart nearly leap outta my chest. 

What I didn’t know about in all the familiarity I had with Jaws before this was this long night scene with the three men drinking and singing and comparing battle scars and stories and bonding the way men in wartime do. Quint’s monologue is especially haunting. This is all just...it’s really good. 

I’m a little uncomfortable (especially in the time of Covid) with this class warfare, working class grunt knows better than the academic tug-of-war going on between Quint and Hooper. For a long stretch it seems like Quint has a point, that Hooper doesn’t know what he’s doing out there in the dangerous reality of a fickle ocean and a murderous predator. But once they get on the boat, Hooper proves himself more the capable. Maybe the man who is actually like, a doctor of sharkology can know just as much - or maybe more?? - than the man who has been hunting and killing them for years. Aaah fiction. It’s a good thing you have nothing to teach us about reality. 

Did I Cry? No, and I kinda thought I would when Alex Kitner’s mother confronts Brody about how he did nothing to prevent her son’s death, but I was too preoccupied with the fact that she and her husband looked about 60 and I was trying to figure out how they could be the parents of an 8-year-old boy. 

In all the clips I’ve seen, I really haven’t been exposed to shots of the shark for that long, and that’s for the good. The only thing that isn’t quite pitch perfect about the movie is how, in the longer sequences, the shark robot begins to quickly lose its authentic feel. The shadows, quick glimpses, and brief chomps really do have a much greater impact. Thank goodness Bruce (the shark robot’s name) malfunctioned as much as he did, because if he had been seen up close from the very beginning, there’s no way this film would be the icon it is. 

Oh damn, that ending really comes at you quick, huh?

I love that “this is gonna be the beginning of a beautiful friendship” final exchange. 

I don’t know what to tell you, guys, this movie is just really, really good. The scares are scary, the characters are interesting, memorable, and have a lot of emotional heft to them, and the shark is sharky. There’s nothing not to like. Even if you think you know what it’s gonna be like, it’s worth it to take a couple hours and really absorb it the way it deserves, because it does deserve it.  

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[spooner-the-trinity]

How Infinity Train pulled from Infinity War’s Playbook for Doctor Who’s final curtain

Funding for Shaffrilas is provided by: Skillshare, the sponsor of today’s video. Stay tuned for a train ride to discountkosh at the end of the video.

O hai, Tetsuya Nomura. That’s a nice hole you’re digging with your Kingdom Hearts, what do you wanna do with it? Keep digging? Why thou? O for a production company? That’s great, whacha gonna do with it? Name and develop the town the Toy Story flicks take place in? Yeah, alright. Add the goofy jock from Glee as a best friend for Andy that the Triceratops assumes is just a Dinosaur Toy down the street? What a funny joke idea! Nix the final playtime they’ve hoped to cap off the film with and save it for a later project? A tad disappointing, but alright. Make Sora a vessel for Xehanort? Whoa, that sounds hella har- A sexy Genie of the Rose who grants a wish for every petal on that collar-mounted rose of hers? Unique concept, but I smell some Hans Christian Anderson shi- The genie’s life force is bound to the Rose so she croaks when the last petal falls ala Beauty and the Beast? And there it is, Color me unsurpri- The Genie finds Andy and drags him into a sex scene to the tune of Aladdin’s Friend Like Me? I don’t think the parents would be okay with their kids watchi- Toonami’s airing this show? Wait, isn’t it on a competing networ- Lewis from Meet the Robinsons is Deleted by DOR-15 Ala the Nanobots from Jimmy Neutron? Mister Enter would be insulted on how you did his favorite Disney flick dirty like thi- Andy is shot into a wormhole and is mutated into a photosensitive Beast? Guys, It’s starting to look like a bad ide- The Genie is an aged-up Bonnie and she’s pregnant with Shantae!? Get me off this crazy tr-

Infinity Train Productions is one of the boldest associates Disney has in its corner right now, from wrestling away ownership of three Gainax originals to collaborating with competing animation company Dreamworks, the IT guys are pretty renowned for their kooky crossovers and kookier cinematic universe. And they’ve made sure to make their acquired goods count towards that universe instead of burn it to the ground LUCASFILM. Starting off by stating this is a universe where Second Impact prevented the assassination of JFK by means of tanging up 13% of the world’s population and weaved a few stitches of train tracks across the globe, naturally the space race escalates exponentially and they begin to develop new technologies and elect Walt Disney himself to be the President of the United States with Nixon as his running mate. That alone resulted in a Sequel Show to Brigadoon where a 24-year-old Marin Asagi boards the Challenger and ends up cast into the future with Melan, a retelling of the first arc of Gurren Lagann that featured Yui Ikari as a supporting character that saves Kamina from death, a twenty-six episode miniseries featuring Andy from the Toy Story gaining a magical genie bound to an enchanted rose, and that’s just the first half of its initial decade. I could go on about its repertoire of shows both original and acquired: Twelve Forever, Evangelion, both Arcadia trilogies with the elder of the two being started by the aformentioned show with that genie of the rose titled, erm… Genie of the Rose, but the one I’m aiming my sights on is the latest acquisition, one that they made in secret. Doctor Who and how they pulled from the playbook of Infinity War to bring the story to its last stop. 

Now, quick recap on how Infinity War makes a powerfully heartfelt mass market appeal joyride out of a thoroughly depressing story about failure. Where most Marvel Villains are merely obstacles for the characters to overcome, Thanos acts and reacts as a real person. Where most conflict have certain factors that tip the scales in the favor of who’s tipping them, the conflict is one where either side could come out victorious, where the Comedy of the Last Farcebender ended with the good guys laughing off their failure, Infinity War ended with a content smile from Thanos and our heroes dead silent save for a minor peep of: “Oh, god.” Where the bad decisions in Farcebender are made from genuine stupidity, Infinity War’s stem from worrying whether or not certain sacrifices are worth it. With that crash course out of the way, let’s dig in.

First thing’s first, is the villain a compelling character? Well, although Sacha Dhawan has the same unhinged energy expected out of any incarnation of longtime enemy, the Master, complete with moments of geniuine affection to his former best beff, he’s ultimately not the main baddie of this piece, that honor goes to Alrick. Believed to be dead after a dirtbike accident, it turns out that he had been picked up by the train and has spent a good three decades or so fucking with the systems to construct an empire starting with the crazy world of Elmore all the way to the Lanes Between and yes, he has shown himself to be a caring father figure to Grace and Simon throughout the second half of Cracked Reflections which leads into the episode, he’s concerned for his future as he’s clearly not as lively as he was when he first climbed aboard and even expresses hope for Jesse returning to the train after taking the exit and getting seperated from MT. And oh, look! He returns after the big moment, that’s nice. 

So yeah, compelling villain, that’s one tick. Is there equal opportunity for either side to win? Well, MT and early on Jesse before his aformentioned exit have the additional assistance of the Watterson family, Banana Joe, and seemingly Penny for a scene only to reveal her in a new shell complete with mind-control and reflective surface to sick the Po-Po on MT. But despite being the protagonist of his show of origin, she’s not the opposing side to Alrick this time around, it’s the wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey biatch herself and man, does it set up a curious comparison. Alrick is focusing his will into projecting his consciousness into the Doctor’s heart, an alien with countless eons worth of memories under her belt compared to Alrick’s measly sixtysomeodd laps around the sun. Not only that, but the Doctor is able to expel regeneration energy to fry the shit out of him if he feels the need to get a little messy. But with her locked up in the Time Lord Matrix which the Master has already skimmed through, there’s nowhere for the Doctor to run or even hide from Alrick. Throw in the Master’s ability to have his mind occupy two hearts at the same time whilst he’s chatting it up with the Lone Cyberman and the Doctor’s pretty pinned but still has a chance to outfox Alrick at the end of it all.

Bad decisions, the Doctor doesn’t trade lives so she keeps asking about the Timeless Child, what it’s supposed to be and why it drove the Master into absolutely butchering Galifrey after all the hard work each incarnation of the Doctor had. It turns out that this Timeless Child was a Pheonix Denizen created by Alrick to create a perfect world but One-One cast it out in hard-light beam form, striking Takeru and Ryou from This Ugly Yet Beautiful World from 2018. From the clipped wings came Hikari and Akari respectively whilst the main body crashed out of a wormhole into the sights of Tecteun who adopted the kid in time for a spaceship of highly-evolved snake people to crash land due to Kate and Leopold rules of time travel causing their machinery to get mucked up by Time Police in an episode of Rick and Morty of all shows, causing the child to fall to its doom and promptly regenerate, making her the first to do so in Galifreyan history. One of the survivors offers the gift of Time Travel in exchange for the power of Regeneration and Tecteun, scientist and explorer, jumps at the chance by means of tearing out the child’s soul for every three days that elapse. Obviously, she’s a fucking monster and she eventually does crack the code and test it on herself and the results allow the gift of time travel to bestowed upon the newly minted Timelords by Omega. Wow, all of this from a formally great show, (Doofenshmertz: what are the odds.) The Doctor is obviously unsurprised that Omega dangled the keys to time travel over the heads of the Shobagan race, but what horrifies her is that the very thing she and every other Time Lord we’ve seen had taken for granted was pilfered from a denizen that she learns after the life of abuse was created by some dude who hijacked some Train Car manufacturing equipment to build a perfect world. And it’s here where we see the main lynchpin of Alrick’s character: Perfection.

Those of you who’ve seen the whole series of Cracked Reflections will know that Alrick is an obsessive perfectionist first and foremost hence the plan to transform every Denizen of Elmore into full-blooded humans with leftover energy from this same Timeless Child. But not many of us recognize that this is only part of Alrick’s shtick. A simple man with complicated motives, a futurist in the trade of nostalgia, a conservative obsessed with progress, a gentle mentor with an impatient temper. These are just a handful of the ways to describe Walt Disney that were used by Ben Bouqulet, Mic Graves, and Owen Dennis to depict Alrick over the course of the last two seasons of Gumball leading into Cracked Reflections and Garrick Hagon truly gives his all portraying all the various shades of this man especially here when he is sharing his story of how he created a literal god only for One-One to cast it aside upon regaining control of the train from the very woman he spent the past 33 years building a perfect world for, a woman he cherishes like his older sister cherished his girlhood friend, a woman that even now still believes him to be ‘One-One: Gone forever?’ That is some next level tragic shit right there. 

Of course, the Doctor is still concerned for this child and it’s here where a familiar face crashes the party to let the cat out of the bag, Morbius from the Fourth Doctor Adventure Brain of Morbius outing himself as the infamous Timeless Child as well as harboring his disembodied heart in the Doctor after his ill-fated Mindbending Battle. This swerve may have served to provide added tension towards his motives, is he really wanting to go back to his home and views traveling with the Doctor as his only way there, or is he biding his time, waiting for his chance to overwhelm the Doctor when she’s not looking. As we see more of Morby’s checkered past in excruciating detail, slavery to the Division with everything down to his personality programmed and dictated into a mind-melded Morby by an enigmatic cult dubbed ‘The Master Writers’ An organization build solely and specifically for Infinity Train Productions to use in their portfolio of works. And when they were done with their enslaved progenetor, the Division in which they served lined him up for an execution from the Fugitive Doctor, during the 2nd Doctor’s orientation. Then they promptly merc poor Ruthie to regenerate her into the 3rd Doctor, closing the gap between Troughton and Pertwee. So yeah, The Division, they’re run by total assholes and Numero Dos only agrees to work there if his first assistant is longtime companion Jamie McCrimmon. But look at his face, does this look like the face of concent and tolerance to you? ‘Joe (Help, I’m a Fish!): Of course not!’ Props to Sam the Man with a Plan Troughton for filling his father’s shoes in this emotionally tense scene. And this ain’t the chilling twist that shocked the fandom. 

Alrick: “Whoever harbors the heart of the child is the child in of itself.“

Doctor: “Wot?”

Alrick: “It means that I will have my prize whether you like it or not!” (Punches through the Doctor’s Chest, crushes the Smash Ball within, causing the Doctor to turn into a pheonix before dissipating into Alrick’s body with the Smash Ball. Alrick’s Number skyrockets as his body regresses to his prime, the man laughing maniacally as the Timeless Child’s ultimate power rushes into him)

So yeah, Morby’s been reconstituting his powers over the centuries the Doctor had lived hence the golden energy during the later regenerations. How we find this out is by the titular character of the BBC’s last remaining reason towards that sweet TV Licence Money getting outright merced by Alrick in front of a guy that deep down still admires his childhood friend. This closes out An Untimely Caviat, the final episode in Doctor Who’s revived series, and leads us right into the finale of Cracked Reflection where he goes full on Disney Villain. Mercing the Master to make him a conduit to gijinkafy the entirety of Elmore, Co-Opting his Cybermaster drones as a mechanical army, ludiccrous speed incubating a pocket-dimension frog to house the Train Cars his empire had conquered via that same energy he channeled through the aformentioned Master, yeah, this does not sound like the man Amelia planned to marry if not had already married outright. Well, that’s the point. He’s drunk with power, it’s more likely that this is his ambition talking. No doubt he’s relishing in his own arrogance much to Marnie’s horror. Oh, yeah, Old Marnie’s doing her astral projection thing to react to her younger brother’s madness and watches on as MT gets roughed up by Super Alrick in front of an audience of his adopted children.

Of course, MT does find some santuary in the Number Car and re-unites with Jesse, resulting in the now sempailess Agent Sieve phasing through the glass screen whilst the train is figuring out how to solve Jesse’s seemingly unsolvable problem of getting a denizen off the train. But that just gives the Fleck some time to witness the madness of this rumored Apex fella as he ankleholds MT and gijinkafies Gumball and Darwin to demonstrate his final offer, her response is to break out a Denizen Ex Machina by prompting Alan Dracula to slice the monkeyfigher in half, causing him to regenerate into a pair of innocent, mindless little babies that will never bother anyone ever again… The Crown grieve for their master, Sieve calls off the manhunt for the rouge slither, the companions go their seperate ways with Graham staying on Earth to deliver the bad news the two youngest raising the two babies up to the Doctor’s standard… or at least one of them due to Yaz getting arrested by a Judoon Platoon before she could legally adopt Zarc. The expression of the companions are grim, and rightfully so, the one guy-or-gal that has kept the 21st century from falling into tyranny is no longer around to do the job they enjoyed doing whenever there was a sitch to see through. But after the wide shot of Yaz getting locked up in Shada we cut to MT, off the train and safe with Jesse in Arizona. Jesse’s brother Nate comes up to find his older brother with the very Chrome Girl he met on a magical train, Nate asks for the girl’s name and her answer?

Jesse: Dracula 2?

MT: (looks to the Lake, concerned that the Flecks would come after her but eases up when its clear that there are no Flecks coming.) I’m Lake.

We get a nice little callback to close out the series as the song Kibō plays in the credits, indicating that Hope is still out there in the cosmos, Doctor or No Doctor. And that is a powerful message to send to the audience and I have a pretty good feeling that whether or not the Doctor ends up getting revived in Kingdom Hearts III alongside all the absent heroes that Infinity Train productions had raked in over the years doesn’t quite matter, the studio does not need Doctor Who and its universe does not need the Doctor. And I have a pretty good feeling that the Doc may end up giving up their ticket back into the land of the living, leaving the universe to all the other champions of the cosmos that Toonami has flaunted over the decades. The Doctor has overcome many frightening, haunting, tyrannical, violent and downright Orwellian things in life and man, oh, man have we got a whole plate of them to overcome even now. Would I go back to this expansive world for further analysis, sure, if the views get gud. But the impact of the Doctor’s Death is a pretty big deal that actually caught a bunch of us by surprise despite the minor hints scattered throughout. (One-One: All aboard for emotional maturation on the finest freighter in all of Trenzalore) The Destiny of the Doctor News heard around the world, and the outpour of memories and grief rivalling even Mr. Peanut but unlike the legendary legume, our favorite timelord will probably be gone for a lot longer than just a couple of weeks and the time it takes will show how deep the rabbit hole goes. It will also show who’s willing to step up and find ways to make a difference in the lives of others, and they’re going to need to learn a thing or two to do so. (Cletus from the Simpsons Movie with the Skillshare Logo slapped onto his face in post: My time to shine.)

[thetargaryenbride]

Leviathan - Chapter 7

*✧･ﾟ Summary: When a strange girl with suspicious abilities catches the eye of Nick Fury and he sends one of the Avengers to bring her under their protection, how will things turn out for them? She is different. There is something wrong with her. Most of the time they can’t decide if they should kill her or let her live. And then, they learn of her past - of all the secrets she has hidden. Her ledger is dripping, gushing, pouring - a whole ocean of red. And she? She is the most terrifying monster lurking in those black and red, mysterious and unexplored waters that can swallow the world and everyone in it.

*✧･ﾟ Warnings: Violence  

Y/N - Your Name      Y/M/N - Your Mother’s Name

Y/C - Your Country      “X” - The First Letter of Your and Your Mom’s Names

Word Count:  4060  *✧･ﾟ

*✧･ﾟ  REQUESTS ARE OPEN~!  *✧･ﾟ

────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

☆☽ Masterlist ☽ ☆

────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

You coughed harshly, your hand flying to your chest. Tony immediately rushed to your side and rubbed your back, his other hand holding a glass of water. You panted as you leaned on the pillows in a semi-sat, semi-lying position. Your beloved black cat didn’t waste time to jump on the bed and nestle next to you. Tony took a handkerchief and wiped the blood trail that had coated your lips and chin before folding it and wiping the sweat that has gathered on your forehead before bringing the glass close to your lips and helping you take a sip.

Things had been like this for a few weeks now. The injuries that you had acquired were a serious damage to your body, especially the acid torture. The poison Enzo had filled you with was persistent but they had managed to find a way to slow it down. They also managed to create an antidote and you had been drinking it a few times a day. But the recovery process was still slow. Your healing factor was also recovering slowly and you hoped that once it was up and running, it would heal you completely and flush the remaining poison out.

Things weren’t as complicated as before. Ever since Wanda’s revelations and confirmations, everyone had been much more relaxed around you and trying to be more open and friendly. They weren’t as suspicious of you anymore and were trying to build bridges. Trying... 

Tony set the glass on the nightstand and grabbed the comforter, covering you. While doing so, he took a glimpse of the small, golden necklace on your neck. The one you always wore. He smiled when he remembered what you told him a few weeks ago.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

“I’m very curious thought… you already knew I was your… father… when we met back in Y/C… How?” he asked and you smiled, lifting your arm, your hand grabbing a thin golden chain and pulling it out from underneath your hospital gown.

“Do you see this?” you asked and he looked down at the gentle jewelry. “This belonged to my mom. She gave it to me… on the night of the attack…” muttered the girl and Tony’s face fell. He cherished Y/M/N. He kept her close to his heart. He loved her dearly. When he had heard of her death… it ruined him. He couldn’t even come to imagine how you had felt. And above all, you had witnessed everything. His heart reached out for you. “You see these three initials?” you asked and he leaned closer, staring. There were three letters – one “X”, one “X”, and one “T”.

“Mom always used to tell me that my dad was a genius that the world has never seen before,” you told him with sparkling eyes and excited voice. “Later on, when I grew up and had the chance to research more… I found a picture of you two together. I learned that she had been working for Stark Industries but she left after some time… And then I also remembered that my birth was just a few months after she left Stark Industries… Your name doesn’t start with a “T”… you are Anthony… but you go by Tony Stark… I managed to put two and two together,” smiled the girl and the man returned it.  

“You are brilliant,” he whispered and you chuckled.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

“Hey,” you started unsurely once you got in a comfortable position. “I know you worry about my health… but I’m feeling much better… soo-“

“Will I allow you to go speak to our four guests?” he raised an eyebrow and your mouth froze in a ‘o’ before you pursed your lips.

“Well… yeah...”

“Well… I guess… after you take your nap,” he offered and you huffed.

“Fine.”

────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

You were finally allowed to leave your room and go feed in the living room alongside the others. Here you were now, all gathered around the table, eating Indian food. You hummed in contentment as you shoved more of the Rogan Josh in your mouth. You gulped it down and were about to take another piece, when the coughing fit hit you hard. You coughed your lung out and a blood trickled down your nose. Tony, who was sitting beside you, flinched, still not used to seeing you suffer like that, wiped the trail with a handkerchief, while Wanda passed you a glass of water that you eagerly accepted and gulped down before letting out a sigh.

“Do we have pears?” you asked after some time and Tony nodded.

“Yepp, we do. Want some?”

“Yes,” you smiled faintly and he returned it before standing up and going over to the fridge, opening it and taking out a bag full of pears. He washed them before returning to the table, and started peeling them.

“No, no, no,” you put a hand over his which halted his movements. You snatched the pear from his hand and bit down. “The peels contain lots of vitamins. They also take longer to digest so that keeps you feeling full for a longer period of time and it kind of prevents the sweet cravings. Besides, it’s less messy eating them that way,” you shrugged as you chewed and Tony chuckled.  

“But what about the pesticides?” asked Peter and Tony shook his head.

“Those are pears from my garden. I’ve been thoroughly taking care of them.”

“You have a garden?” asked Sam with a raised eyebrow. 

“I don’t trust the fruits and vegetables people sell. Who knows what they do to them. And I have a kid after all. I don’t want Morgan getting sick and fucking up her stomach because of the shit food they try shoving down our throats,” explained Tony and you hummed.

“Preach.”

“You two are weirdly adorable,” laughed Bruce and Tony grinned.

“Of course we are. We are Starks.”

“Those pears are indeed amazing. They taste much better than what I buy. I’m so going to raid your garden,” you threatened jokingly and Tony chuckled. “Pears are probably one of my most favourite things to eat.”

“No one can beat the caramel, though. Or the chocolate strawberry combinations,” voiced Wanda from beside you and you sent her a teasing look.

“How did you know?” you asked knowingly and the witch sniggered.

A few minutes in silence passed before you took the last bite and put the leftovers in a plate, lifting your gaze to stare at Rhodes.

“Ok, I know you guys still don’t fully trust me, but can you stop looking at me as if I’ll snap and slit all of your throats? We won’t make any progression that way,” you sighed. “Besides, that’s not the way I prefer killing people.”

“Not the best time to joke about that,” whispered Tony.

“Yeah, we’ve heard of your favourite way of killing people. Ripping their hearts and spines off. That’s why they call you the Ripper,” grunted the war machine and you laughed, your eyebrows raising and brightening your face.

“Oh, really? So, I’m like what? Modern Jack the Ripper!?”

“Are you seriously proud and impressed by that?”

“Hey, now! I’m just preserving the culture,” you grinned widely as you wiggled your eyebrows.

“The sociopathic culture you mean,” drawled Rhodes.

“I’m not a sociopath. That thing with the heart and spine ripping? Happened only once,” you shrugged. “People just exaggerate it in order to create another story to scare their children with. Not my fault. I kill clean. Snapping necks, blowing brains and throwing knives very accurately,” you accentuated the last few words. “But what I’m good at is integrating within organizations and destroying them from the inside out,” you leaned closer and looked the man right in the eyes, making him glare at you, and the others to look a bit uneasy.

“Is that a threat?”

“I don’t know Colonel, you tell me,” you mused.

“C’mon, don’t fuck with their head. They are messed up as they are,” grunted Wanda, letting out an amused chuckle.

“Yeah, better stop,” added Tony but it was obvious he was enjoying this exchange.

“But Wanda, dad, I was just having some fun,” you whined.

“That’s not the best humour you got there,” drawled Sam with a faint smile.

“Not my fault he has a stick up his ass,” you exclaimed as you pointed at Rhodes.

“Sorry Tony, but I just can’t trust her,” growled the man in question.

“It’s up to you whether you trust me or not, Starboy. Do you think I care either way?” you asked mockingly and he bristled, causing Sam to chuckle.

“Not funny, Sam!” he sent him a sour look but the man only grinned more.

“Sorry but, it’s quite hilarious to me. She is one of the few who manages to get under your skin and piss you off so royally. Your face gets all red… it’s just, very entertaining.”

“See? Chirpy gets it. You should just ignore me instead of letting my shit get to you and rile you up. Don’t be the childish and immature one by firing back,” you chirped and Tony sighed.

“Y/N-“

“What? It’s the truth!” you shrugged as you tried to keep straight face but ended up snorting hard.

“You do realize that you are the bigger child in the situation, right?” huffed Sam in amusement.

“I’m faaar from a child.”

“Yeah, yeah. We already know you are a master of seduction. No need to prove it again.”

“Yeah, we all have tight pants here.”

“That was a good one,” your body jerked forwards as you waved your forefinger. “You are upgrading. But I wasn’t referring to my nightly endeavours and seductive infiltrating missions. How did you come to know of these skills of mine anyways?” you asked with a raised eyebrow and the men coughed awkwardly.

“Aha…”

────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

“Careful,” muttered Tony as he helped you stand from the bed and gave you a crutch. You tightened your lips but gladly accepted the support.

“I want to see Fromir first,” you looked at Tony and the man inhaled slowly before nodding and the two of you made your way to the interrogation rooms. White and empty with only one chair and a table. The three were locked separately, being supervised by many agents, including Rhodes and Sam.

“Did he spill anything for the past weeks he’s been in here?” you asked once you faced the two soldiers and they shook their heads. You huffed as you entered the room, the other three following you. The man had been sitting on a stool with his head in his hands when he heard someone entering. He lifted his head and his eyes widened.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed as he stood up sharply, his gaze focusing on the opened doors. You stayed silent with a blank face, your hand gripping tightly the crutch. “W-we can t-talk this through, r-right?” he asked as he lifted his hands in surrender, sending a shaky smile, and you narrowed your eyes, your lips scrunching as your nose twitched. Tony raised an outrageous eyebrow and Rhodes and Sam blinked dumbly. The man had been so cocky and confident, a big smart-ass with a huge, babbling mouth, that spoke not the things they needed, staying silent despite their harsh interrogation. But the moment you had appeared, his legs trembled and his voice shook. There was a stifling silence that continued for a minute, causing everyone to stand on edge until you broke it with your raw, savage scream. Fromir took a step back when you threw the crutch on the ground and advanced on him, grabbing him by the shirt and lifting him in the air, throwing him to the side. He hit the glass wall painfully. It didn’t break because of its sturdiness but it was even more painful than if it had broken.

“Say it,” you growled as you strode over to him, not even limping despite your still weak body. Adrenaline and pure rage were pumping through your veins, accompanied by the longing desire of revenge. “Did you enjoy it?” you rumbled as you kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying and rolling to the other side of the room. Sam made a step forward but Tony outstretched his arm, his hand landing on his chest, as he sent him a look that clearly told him to not intervene. You neared the man quickly, speaking louder and deadlier with each word.

“Shoving your dick in my mouth? Slicing me? Experimenting on me? Did you enjoy it?” you snarled as you picked him up again and rammed him on the ground, causing him to lose his breath and grunt in pain.

“I did,” he gasped out and you snapped.

“Fuck you! I was just a kid!” you screamed as you grabbed him by the throat and lifted him in the air. “You took me away from my home! You killed my mom in front of me!” you shouted ferociously before throwing him away. He rolled on the floor and grasped his aching throat. “I’m strong because of you… but the price I had to pay was not worth that! Now it’s time you pay yours!” you choked, coughing, as you fell on your knees. Tony rushed to your side and grabbed your shoulders, steadying you.

“For God’s sake, don’t strain yourself! Do you have a death wish?” he contained himself from yelling as he watched you with red, concerned eyes. You calmed down as your breathing evened and you grabbed Tony’s shoulder, using it to support yourself as you stood once again. You walked slowly to Fromir who backed away in a corner and you only bared your teeth at him with pure resentment shining in your eyes.

“Whatever you did to me, I will do to you… tenfold… and then I’ll kill ya,” you grumbled out as you spat on him before turning around and limping towards the fallen crutch, staring at it for a second, contemplating, before bending and taking it, turning to look at Tony.

“I know my limits… I know when I need help,” you murmured and he let out a long sigh before he also stood up and neared you.

“I think that’s enough visits for one day. I’m not letting you out of your room until you fully recover,” he told you with a promising look in his eyes and you pouted but nodded nonetheless.

  ────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

 “So… do you have something to tell me?” you asked as you stood with crossed arms in front of a kneeling man. He shook his head. “Because I have a lot of words on the edge of my tongue, waiting to be spilt,” you growled lowly before your hands grabbed his collar and hoisted him up, shoving him violently, making him stumble, although he didn’t lose balance. “When dad told me that he got some cowardly brat as a hostage, I didn’t think for a second that it would be you. After all, you were always so cocky. Such a big mouth. Hiding behind that favourite whip of yours. You looked so big back then. So scary and intimidating… I never thought you would be such a coward,” you huffed as you leaned on the table behind you. The man looked at his feet. You chewed angrily on your lip before you bolted and grabbed his hands, turning him around and kicking the back of his knees, making him fall down. You didn’t waste time to tie his wrists to the metal pole and secure him tightly. Ignoring his whimpering and pleading, you walked calmly to the table and grabbed a long, thin whip.

“I’ve always wondered… what would it be if I was on the other side… I’m quite anxious to finally have that question answered,” you sneered and before he even realized it, the whip connected with his back with a loud smack. He yelled. You did it again and again and again until his whole back was bloody and chunks of his skin littered the ground alongside drops and pools of blood.

“I remember this agent. Gods, I don’t know how she survived in HYDRA. She was so strong... She was probably the only truly good person there. Raised in captivity she was. But even thought they raised her with their ideals, she still held tightly to her own that she had secretly built… much like me, I guess… She was a great actress. Never let them doubt her loyalties. She was only true to me. She always took care of me. Whenever I was hurting. She healed me. She mostly helped me with the wounds you inflicted. She would put ice on my back. She would hold my hand. Stay by the bedside even,” you spoke quietly as you dropped the whip on the ground and leaned helplessly on the table as memories flooded you once again.

“And then she was sent on a mission. No details were revealed, of course. Just one thing. That she almost revealed HYDRA to SHIELD. A disgrace. One hundred whips she got… from you… I heard. Then you flayed her… She died screaming…” you reminded him and he gulped as he whispered pleas.

“P-please! I’m s-s-sorry!” that only made you laugh.

“Do you remember what they taught us in HYDRA?” you asked as you grabbed a knife and straightened, walking slowly towards him. “We beg for no mercy. And we show no mercy… Every time I begged for mercy, they would double the tortures until I stopped begging altogether,” you smiled bitterly as you tilted your head. “Are you so brave, all of a sudden? Do you dare ask me for mercy? I mean, I may consent and give it to you. But then again, after everything I’ve been taught and after everything you’ve done… do you think I will? Maybe you’ll just anger me so much that I would decide to flay you as well. Or maybe split you in half? Or do the blood eagle torture? That’s classic! I love classics,” you waved your free arm excitedly, laughing, and he sniffed, trying to keep his tears at bay.

“P-p-please,” he whimpered and you scrunched your nose in disgust. You leaned and breathed into his neck, almost causing him to sob and soil his pants.

“I think I’ve made up my mind,” you whispered and you cut the ropes on his wrists, setting him free. He fell on the ground and let out shaky sighs of relief.

“Thank y-you,” he sniffed but then he felt your boot on his body, turning him around so he was laying on his back, facing you. He groaned because of the pain but managed to compose himself and open his eyes to look at you. You were tilting your head left and right, observing him. And then you lifted your foot and drove the high heel of your boot right through his throat. He choked and sputtered and when you removed it, his hands flew to clutch his throat, to try and stop the flow of blood sipping through the hole. And then you threw the knife, hitting his head powerfully. It embedded into the floor below. He was dead in an instant.

“There is your mercy,” you whispered as you turned around and grabbed a handkerchief from your pocket, wiping blood drops from your hands and heel and throwing it over his body before walking away.

“Now… round two.”

────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

“Gah!” screeched a woman as blood and saliva flew from her mouth.

“My, my… How the cards have turned,” you whispered as you faced the woman, your noses touching, before you licked her cheek. “I told you… that you would choke on your tongue and teeth,” you smiled crazily as you looked down at Narween. After another week or two, your healing factor had kick-started and helped you make full recovery. You were up and running in no time. And now… now there you stood, right after dealing with the coward, facing three people tied to chairs with special chains that didn’t allow them to use their powers… well, two... except Fromir.

You hummed a melody from Alice Madness Returns as you circled them. Your hands and front were drenched in blood. Teeth, nails, tongues, fingers… you could find anything on the floor.

“Now, I didn’t need to interrogate you per se… Abraham already told me of your plans, abilities, etcetera… But I needed a reason to torture you,” you revealed and their eyes widened. “Oh, yes. Abraham didn’t lose his memories of me at all. When he had the opportunity, he revealed everything to me. Funny, he thought you had erased MY memories of him… He died a second time because of you… and now you will pay the price,” you growled lowly as you came to stand behind Narween. The woman breathed shakily, her eyes watering, as you grabbed your shoulder with one hand.

“The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse… in modern terms, the edgy, emo book club,” you snorted. “Have you read poetry?” you asked as you tilted your head, your hand squeezing Narween’s shoulder painfully until a pop echoed in the room and the woman’s muffled yells followed, causing the men to cringe. “It’s quite nice. Let me recite something for you. It’s called “A Poison Tree” by William Blake,” you smiled evilly as you licked the stained with blood blade of your knife.  

“I was angry with my friend; I told my wrath, my wrath did end… I was angry with my foe: I told it not, my wrath did grow,” you recited as you brought your knife and slit Narween’s throat.  “And I watered it in fears, Night & morning with my tears: And I sunned it with smiles, And with soft deceitful wiles,” you whispered in Fromir’s ear as you walked to stand behind him. He let out a pathetic whimper when you squeezed his shoulder. ”And it grew both day and night. Till it bore an apple bright. And my foe beheld it shine, And he knew that it was mine,” you growled huskily before driving the knife through his throat, much slower than you did Narween. He choked for a while, his body jerking before he stilled. You straightened and slowly stalked over to Enzo.  

“And into my garden stole, When the night had veiled the pole;” you kept on reciting as you came to stand in front of the man, crouching down and grabbing his face with one hand, caressing his cheek with your thumb. You leaned and placed a kiss on his lips.  “In the morning glad I see;” you whispered, your breath tickling his skin, before you, once again, drove the knife down and slit his throat. “My foe outstretched beneath the tree,” you mumbled the last words as you watched him gag, blood spurting on your face, neck and collarbone. He stilled. The light in his eyes disappeared. You stared at his face for a little while before standing up. The knife slipped from your grasp and clanked as it fell on the tiles. You turned your back on the corpses.

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Sunsets. They were beautiful. And yet so dangerous. They indicated the coming of the night, and the night was full of terrors. Demons lurking in the darkness. Your own demons, inside, fueled by the dark outside. You stood on the rooftop of the tower, staring blankly as the sun lowered more and more, your face illuminated, the sun’s dying fire burning in your eyes.

“Not avenging yourselves, beloved, but give place to the wrath, for it hath been written, 'Vengeance is Mine. I repay; saith the Lord...”

“And the Lord is me,” whispered the woman as she threw one last look at the setting sun before turning her back on it and walking away.

────･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

Chapter 1

Chapter 6

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Author Note: I hope you enjoyed it~ Feel free to ask any questions if you are confused about something. Feel free to correct me if you see any mistakes.

When I say that phrase – “And the Lord is me” – I don’t mean to sound offensive. What I’m trying to say is that, while there IS a higher power, WE are those who create and rule over OUR reality. So, in OUR OWN world, we are the Gods because we make things happen the way they happen. We set our own laws and we obey them. We can also break them whenever we want to. That’s what I meant.

Feedback is deeply appreaciated~ <3

Moodboard is made by me. I credit Pinterest for the pictures I used.

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