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tagedeszorns · 2 days ago

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SPOILERS for "Fulgrim - The Perfect Son"

You were warned - Spoilers ahaed!

Okay, so it finally has happened. Pigs are flying, dogs are walking backwards and I am admitting that I'd rather read a Fulgrim-novel written by Graham McNeill than this one.

But to get to this point ... let me take the long route!

First - imagine a novel about a Primarch. Let's say Guilliman, because the Ultramarines are the example for everything. Let's say he returns. (Bear with me, I am not talking about how it actually happened for him!) And it is not explained at all, why he's back. What's his motivation. How? Don't ask stupid questions! Anyways. He's back. Now, what about his Legion? What about Calgar? Sicarius? His Librarius? Well, never mind, they don't matter, because (galaxy brain moment here!) - they don't exist! Instead they are replaced with a cast of new characters you never heard of before, but you are supposed to take as "have always been his favourites". And those characters are as generic as they come. Absolutely bland. Plus, Guilliman isn't even there most of the time. Also, apparently the Emperor is no longer a factor for anything.

That's the setting Jude Reid throws at the reader, just with Emperor's Children.

Okay. Okay. I can live with new characters. But maybe at least tie them with the rich history of the third? With all its glory and trauma? Harmony? Canticle City? The Phoenix Conclave? Anything? No?

Well. Then give them a gratious amount of Sex, Drugs and Rock'nRoll, because that's what they do in 40k? No? A bit? So Noise Marines aren't Slaanesh's sledgehammers any longer? Maybe remember how cool Eidolon and his Kakophonii screamed that White Scars ship to rubble or how Ramos tore down the Medean Gate on Luna? No? And the drugs are just some kind of better stims now? Like the stuff Lance Armstrong takes on a daily basis?

Well. Okay. No History, none of the cool guys ... maybe some Dark Prince-fuckery? No? Oh. The word "Slaanesh" is two times in the whole book and it's with sorcery, not normal EC or Fulgrim? And Dark Prince or She Who Thrirsts ... ah, nevermind. So, no Youngest God at all.

Well, Fulgrim is the mightiest servant of Slaanesh and he's the title character of the novel, so it's okay. Enough slaaneshi shenanigans for everyone! No? Fulgrim is there for about 5% of the novel and we never get his POV? Oh. Okay. Well.

Yes, I am disappointed. After Marc Collins gave us the great new Eidolon novel, I had high hopes Games Workshop wanting to bring out the coolness in the third Legion again.

But instead we got the most generic Chaos (not really) stuff ever. You could replace everybody with Red Corsairs and Fulgrim with the Tyrant and nobody would notice any difference.

And now I am back to the beginning. Why McNeill's EC may be horrible but way better than Reid's.

Because they are over the top. Because they are the superlative of extra. Because they are divas. Because they are trying to be cool AF. Because they are mean fuckers.

Reid's EC are what I always thought I wanted (my Midas-moment, if you will): Swordsmen. Duelists. But it turns out, that it is possible to fall to Slaanesh and hate excess (yes, Tamaris, the main char, is very offended by excess). Damn, girl! Take a page out of Ian StMartin's book and look up what excessive swordsmanship does for Lucius!

So, taking everything slaaneshi from the EC didn't do them any good. Apparently they are now Chaos Undivided, swear by "Gods" instead of their chosen patron God and such. Much generic. Wow. Sacrificing like they are the Word Bearers we have at home.

The ideal solution would be a mix of both: McNeill's extra queerness (because Reid's chars are giving off the most cis-het vibes I ever got from anything Warhammer! Even the Chaos Sorcerer reminiscing fucking Fulgrim is as sterilised as possible. I bet Reddit-Warhammer loves this book, because none of them pesky gays and their sexytimes!) and excessiveness and Reid letting them keep their beauty and dignity. It's very telling that the most erotic moment of the book is the main character kissing the guy he just killed.

Because that's the GREAT plus of this book. Finally! Beautiful Emperor's Children! Beautiful Fulgrim! Plaese, give me more of this! And they are (mostly) honourable! Awww, yiss! Yes, Reid is falling back into the way too familiar "uglyness and betrayal"-trope soon enough, but an effort was made.

But that's not enough to work as saving grace.

The novel is very clearly what @paniwarhamauser called "saturday morning cartoons to sell toys", because every buyable unit is mentioned and described very clearly.

But what this book is lacking, is a soul. An understanding for the EC's (and Fulgrim's - but the Phoenician barely features in the novel, so I will leave him out on this) unique tragedy, drama, history and power.

I am glad we got the great "Auric Hammer"-book (please let Marc Collins write more for EC! He gets them! Raging Eidolon gives me life!). And we still have Josh Reynold's superb Fulgrim-novel. But this new one is not for me.

I mean, we EC-fans have a lot of great novels and stories, compared to other Legions (poor Raven Guard for example). So I really shouldn't complain.

Well, rant over, I am calm and collected again and will continue reading the pleasant Alpha Legion-stuff I have left for the Fulgrim novel (may contain traces of Fulgrim). 😁

#warhammer #emperor's children #warhammer 40k #Fulgrim - The Perfect Son #Spoilers

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sannin-three · 3 days ago

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I know it's not a pleasant thought, but if you view/headcanon Hiruzen and Orochimaru's relationship as having involved sexual grooming and abuse, it adds/changes so much context between them.

Thoughts below the cut. Also I want to be very clear that this is NOT a ship post. I can't control what people ship, but I'll ask that it please not be brought up here.

The scene of them alone together in the graveyard. I know it's supposed to be a nice moment but it makes me wonder how often the two were left alone together. Orochimaru is also quick to accept Hiruzen's explanation about his parents still being alive somewhere, showing that Hiruzen has a strong influence on them. This isn't unusual for mentor and apprentice dynamics, but given some of Hiruzen's questionable behavior (which I detailed in this post) it makes the whole situation feel less acceptable.

The way Orochimaru gradually pulled away from everyone around them as they grew older. And the fact they shifted in personality from being standoffish and quiet as a child to being a puppet master who uses an almost seductive attitude to manipulate people (SA victims can sometimes develop hypersexuality as a result of their abuse).

The bitterness at being passed over for the Hokage role despite being regarded as Hiruzen's favorite for so long is already kind of understandable, but this would make it a true slap to the face. Years of being used only to be discarded. Which would also make a depressing parallel to Orochimaru's line to Anko where he talks about throwing her away (though I personally don't think Orochimaru went this far with her, and instead was just referring to the curse mark).

Going to work for Danzo could have possibly been a way to get back at Hiruzen for the previous move. Gets dropped by the old man and goes to work with the guy's ex. Unfortunately I know I'm not the only one who assumes Danzo also manipulated and used Orochimaru to some degree. This again makes sense though it's not uncommon for people who were abused before to end up in abusive dynamics again because that's what they're familiar with.

The wardrobe change from silk kimonos and otherwise flattering clothes to the potato sack outfit that hides the shape of their body and almost every inch of their skin. SA victims will sometimes seek to make themselves less visually appealing in the hopes they'll be left alone.

(speaking of, in the Boruto era their clothing is more in line with how they used to dress and while it's still not very revealing, they have a normal collar as opposed to a turtleneck. To me this is a visual indicator of healing.)

Orochimaru's fixation on Sasuke also takes on a different light in this case. We know he wants to take over Sasuke's body to preserve their life, but this would also add more reasoning behind him talking about Sasuke's "beauty". They remember being young and valued for their looks/body, only to be dropped as an adult. Even if they hate Hiruzen now, a damaged part of them still wants to be young and desired once more.

Orochimaru having the chance to finally kill Hiruzen but still shedding a tear after everything that's happened because the child in them remembers how much this man's "love" once meant to them.

The delighted laugh she gives after revealing the body shifting jutsu and Hiruzen calls her inhuman. She almost seems proud of herself for her ability to horrify him, to finally be the one in control.

With all of this in mind, imagine the sheer horror of Hiruzen trying to seal their souls away together for the rest of eternity. For better or worse, Orochimaru broke away from his hold years ago only to be threatened with Hiruzen tying them down again, once and for all.

This also makes his last moments particularly creepy; viewing Orochimaru as a child who's pleasantly smiling at him rather than as the broken adult that has grown in their place. And saying how sad he is that he couldn't take Orochimaru with him... Just completely changes the vibe.

Sasuke himself states that he knows Orochimaru's given reasons for attacking Konoha were a lie. We aren't told what the true reason is though. This would be a potent reason though to take down the institution that allowed Orochimaru (and so many others) to be used like a pawn or a toy. If this were the true reason then it also would make sense why Orochimaru wouldn't want to discuss it openly.

So yeah, while I definitely can't say that this was intentional subtext on the creator's part, I think when brought together it all makes a disturbing sort of sense. The ninja world in general is extremely bad about pushing kids into an adult role far too early in so many ways, and sadly I can't help but assume this would be one of them.

#orochimaru #anti hiruzen #naruto #character analysis #tw csa mention #tw abuse mention

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nikethestatue · 4 hours ago

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I've been in a few fandoms throughout my life, because I have an obsessive personality and tend to hyper fixate on things. And because I am a voracious reader, many of the fandoms were connected to books. I've never been involved to this degree in a bookish fandom, but I've been involved enough.

And this fandom--parts of it--is the only one I've ever encountered where an obsession with a ship trumps the actual books.

I've never encountered a fandom where readers ENCOURAGED newcomers to NOT read at least one of the books in the series. (Imagine someone claiming that with all seriousness! Imagine a whole group of HP fans screaming down others and telling them not to read 'The Prisoner of Azkaban' because 'it doesn't matter!')

I've never encountered a fandom where readers actively dismissed the original series, even though none of the books are standalone and all the characters are closely connected.

I've never encountered a fandom where a whole strata of readers actively HATE 98% of the characters.

Not only that, but the same strata of readers then try to convince normal, reasonable readers that the 3 characters that they do like are THE main characters of the series. (No, the series is NOT about Tamlin's Redemption or Lucien's quest for happiness. Shocking, I know)

I've never encountered a fandom where long-awaited updates and engagement from the publisher (literally FOUR years) are met with derision and hostility, because it's not about the desired ship.

I've never encountered a fandom where the actual STORY doesn't matter at all. Only the ship. No continuity is needed. No plot. No intrigue. No drama. The only thing that's desired is a ship that has nothing to do with the rest of the series.

Readers who've been reading for years, have an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the series, are made fun of, ridiculed and hounded on all platforms because they are 'obsessed with canon' and date to like a logical couple.

Lists are made with names of readers who like a LOGICAL couple. Presumably to doxx and hound.

I've never encountered a fandom, where one half is happy, loves the characters, celebrates them and enjoys the story (and I am talking about Feysands and Elriels) and the other half vitriolically detests the OG characters, and writes mile long metas about how everything is awful, horrible, the author is terrible and the books are crap. (Why are you still here, I am not sure).

I don't know, but it seems to me that Elriels are normal fans. We aren't 'loud' or obnoxious. We are excited because we are excited for the next book. if Taylor Swift announces a new tour, the NORMAL reaction would be to celebrate and crash the internet out of sheer joy. Not to seethe and berate her and the excited fans, while still insisting that you are a huge TS fan. Make it make sense?

Maybe instead of seething over your ship (which you made up and SJM never wrote, so I don't know why you are mad?) get excited about the next book and meeting all the characters again (supposedly, you all love Azriel, Gwyn and Lucien so much!). Quit getting mad over tote bags.

Try living in joy, not derision.

#SJM fandom #the brackets don't like #SJM books #elriel #pro elriel

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therobotsarestuckinmyhead · 1 day ago

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♡ OVERLORD HCs A.01

scenario A: decepticon reader CO, you command your own ship and you have to baby sit your least favorite ex-gladiator (cybertronian equivalent of having to supervise your least favorite athlete)

setting: Pre-Overlord Defection. G-9 has not happened yet!

cross posted on ao3. i mainly post on ao3!

— He’s actually noticed you for a long while now. Overlord has had a small dislike towards you for your sheering fucking audacious behavior back during the Pre-War era. He remembers seeing you in the gladiatorial pits in the audience. Overlord remembers well how you cheered on and on for Megatron instead of him and how you shout out insults at Overlord from the sidelines to his fragging face when Megatron was giving him the defeat of a lifetime. At the time, it enraged him beyond everything he's ever felt. He honestly wanted to hunt you down after that fight and terminate you himself. But he couldn’t do much about it in those times and to be honest, he’s grown out of it now (mostly). He doesn’t care about the opinion of some random miner who spectated his fights millions of years ago, why should he be some random bot's favorite gladiator in the first place? Even if said miner had the ball bearings to say it to his face that he wasn’t as good as Megatron all those millennia ago.

— He didn’t like your blind hero worship towards both of your now-boss-and-commander back then so it amuses him to no end to know that you obviously came out to be a Decepticon once the war started but he hadn’t found that out till he was assigned to your ship, unfortunately. You’re the in-charge and the star system within which your unit operates in has planets ready for cyberforming so that means Phase Six is to be initiated on said planets. Cue Overlord waltzing onto your ship one day to commit mass genocide.

— Overlord is solely annoying you for his own amusement as well as to get back at you for his Pre-War humiliation. This is an opportunity he’s not going to miss. Usually, he doesn't really engage in conversation with Commanders or Officers or any of the crew on any of the ships he’s been on in general, unless its to mess with them. He doesn’t like authority figures.

— Now Overlord is used to being feared by the mechs of his own faction and he enjoys their fear tremendously but none of them really ever stares daggers at him like you do as you pass by him in the hallways. Overlord can tell you don’t really like having him around with that glare you give him, he thinks it's cute. He can tell you’re weary of him causing chaos on-board and being the CO (Commanding Officer) of this ship, Overlord is well aware that you’d be held responsible. So he purposefully stirs up shit to piss you off and hear that signature sigh he’d gotten used to for the past four solar cycles.

— He’ll probably try approaching you with some mundane small talk to further annoy you only for you to shut him down immediately but by being annoyed with him, you’re only spurring him on to continue. Overlord likes being a pain in the aft. Eventually, it becomes a running gag between you two and he will get more bolder. Your teammates are kind of stunned that you’d speak to a fucking Phaser Sixer that way or the fact that you even knew Overlord to a level. But you did run this ship so none of your subordinates dared to question you.

— He has no respect for personal space. Overlord will stand uncomfortably close to you because he can and he knows you’re not going to even try, you’re well aware of how stubborn he is. He likes making you uncomfortable.

— Since you’re the CO of the ship, Overlord unfortunately has to report to you by Decepticon Code and it's something the both of you hate because you want nothing with the mech and Overlord hates knowing that he has to address you of all bots with respect. He only calls you ‘Commander’ in a mock sarcastic way which just, honestly, it just makes you sigh. You’re already tired of dealing with the crew you have and now you have to look after Overlord of all mechs.

— Your no-nonsense attitude and coldness honestly amuses him. It's a stark contrast to the spitfire of a cheerful fanbot he despised. He does find you a little boring though. How you're so strict on protocol, how you insist on roll call every morning, how you pester him for his report… Honestly, he thinks you'd get along somewhat well with Tarn at this point. He hates being bossed around and that just further fuels his need to be the biggest helmache you've ever had.

— He’s not going to say it yet but he finds this new you sort of… attractive in a way. Stern and commanding, as if you could control him. As much as he found it annoying, he liked a bot that challenged him.

— He also liked how you seemed to be more… tired with him annoying you than really angry. Overlord find the face you make when he approaches you absolutely golden. It's enough for him to smile with glee.

— One time, the two of you were on a mission together and you weren’t too happy to be with him. In fact, it was a mission assigned to you but he insists on just following, as he said in his words: “to make sure his Commanding Officer is safe” knowing damn well that you're the last bot that needs any sort of ‘safety’ from anyone. He can tell it pisses you off and it amuses him to no end just how much you don’t like him. In reality, he’s just tagging along with you to not feel bored after he’s decimated entire civilizations.

Overlord stands by you as you kneel down to the Autobot you just knocked out. Overlord has his signature scrap-eating grin and you let out an aggravated sigh, you really didn’t like being around him… and he was intent on following you around to bother you, even during your missions.

“I thought we needed the Autobot alive for interrogation, Commander. Seems you’re a step away from terminating him.” Overlord sighs in a rather impish fashion as venom drips from his tone at the word ‘Commander’, he’s mocking you and you know it but you just can’t find the energy to care.

“No. My plan is not to offline him, Overlord.” You reply as you rise up after taking note of the bot’s spark signature, Overlord is slightly intrigued by that but his face never betrays what he feels. Sure the Autobot’s color was still present on his frame but his optics shone the bright blue he loathes ever so dimly, as if the poor thing were on the last fumes of his spark while he clings on desperately to his miserable existence. He would meet the Allspark soon, or so Overlord muses. Especially with how immobile he was, not even able to flinch as your digits accidentally brush past open circuit ends. That would usually draw out a pretty sweet screeching scream from Overlord’s experience.

“What do you mean? He’s limp on the floor.” Overlord folds his servos against his chassis, raising an optical ridge at you. A quizzical look on his features which was a rare sight, the brutal ex-gladiator usually caught on to what a bot does without having to ask given how terrifying his intellect was.

“I hit the Autobot on an exposed part of his backstruts when he left it open in our fight that you so graciously showed up to spectate.” He can hear the teeth through your words despite your calm and soft tone, it makes him chuckle. Overlord watched you struggle as you fought instead of helping you. It certainly had you annoyed that Overlord wouldn’t help but his reasoning, unbeknownst to you, is that he’s too busy watching how your frame moves. You looked good after a fight, in his unvoiced opinion.

“The gauntlets allow me to control the force I am using and it was enough to snap the spinal motor cording.” You sigh and graciously explain to your irksome Phase Sixer ‘companion’, showing off the upgrade on your servos as you do so by extending your them out towards him as he examines closely, taking a step closer to your energon-stained servos. He seems somewhat impressed as the realization of what you’ve done dawns on him; his servos remain folded but he’s got that smirk you wish you could wipe off his face on. Overlord may have been more about the… displays and brute force but he was intelligent.

After all, it’s what made Overlord so deadly.

“So… you paralyzed this sorry sod?” He has a wicked grin now as he studies the Autobot that lay before you two on the ground, his frame is wreck— a few open ended cabling from your slashes and breaches in his armor from your blaster shots as he leaks out energon, not enough for him to go into stasis though as he lay immobile. He's impressed to say the least, with how far you’ve come from what he remembers you as.

“I prefer immobilized.” You look down, cold and uncaring as you kneel toward the unmoving frame in front of you. He can see the indifference in your own crimson gaze, as if you stay aware of this bot’s suffering but simply can’t seem to care and a part of him wants you to look at him like that, not like he’d say it outright how attractive he finds it.

“The Autobot is caged in his own frame. He can’t move, he can’t escape, he can’t scream and he can’t even cry. So we don’t have to worry about escape plans and the immobility makes it easier to use a cortical psychic patch to get the information we need. The lack of noise from his frame also means it’ll be a lot easier to move through deep enemy territory.”

Overlord is slightly startled by the words that leave your vocalizer as you explain your reasoning, his wicked grin faltering. His face for once, betrays how he feels with how his crimson optics slightly widen but thankfully, you don’t seem to notice as you’re rummaging through the Autobot’s subspace, probably trying to make sure he wasn’t carrying anything that could give out his location. Now, he didn’t dislike your words. But such… he doesn’t even have the word for it… Ruthlessness? Brutality? Intelligence? Practicality? Sadism?... Whatever it was. All of… this was coming from the same bot he remembers resenting in the gladiatorial pits all those millennia ago for being an annoying little suck up and it clearly startled him, how radically different you were now. He clearly had the wrong idea about you. Not to mention, how you didn’t seem to think of Autobots as… individuals, referring to the third person that can hear their conversation perfectly fine from your shoulders as a mere obstacle.

But… he has to take a moment to just admire your creativity. Overlord was expect another typical Decepticon-style torture treatment for whatever information it was that you needed. Not like he was against it though but the old torture routine had lost its charm over time to the Phase Sixer. He was starting to get bored with it. Invading some random Autobot’s memories as they helplessly watch, unable to do absolutely anything about it sounds a lot more… fresh and tempting.

His optics quickly return to its regular smug look, watching you ever so intently as you kneel back down to carry the unfortunate bot over your shoulders. It's apparent that you've gotten bigger and stronger with how effortlessly you carry up a bot nearly your height. He can't help but take a moment to take his crimson optics over your frame for a moment— whatever upgrade you've gotten was certainly impressive. He can tell you’re built for speed, strength and agility.

But what intrigued him the most was your thinking. He's been around cruel mechs (and been a cruel mech) long enough to know how a sadist looks down at their work and… You didn’t seem sadistic, you weren’t really admiring your handiwork nor did you seem to take much joy in it, but you were willing to be brutal if it meant it was the more efficient route. He can’t help but admire that. A secretive, intelligent and cold cruelty; drastically different to the loud and brash explosive flames of blind hatred most Decepticons had.

You were absolutely diabolical.

And he was loving every moment of it.

Overlord could tell he was going to absolutely adore this new you. No one’s managed to get him this impressed and startled in a long, long time.

— He's surprised to find out that you’re actually sort of insane as well? Not really but somewhat? Clearly, he has misjudged you for being boring and plain. Evident with your methodologies— you prioritize efficiency over anything else and he sort of gets why Megatron has somewhat of a high opinion on you. You’re loyal and you know how to get the job done. In Overlord’s experience, Decepticons usually have one of two.

—However, it’s not unwelcome. He doesn’t mind it but your apathy is sort of unexpected? To him, he still thinks of you as that tiny little annoying fan that doesn’t know how to shut up about their leader (even if you’ve certainly gotten bigger). But now... you’re more silent, a lot more mature and a lot more devious. The war has taken its toll on you... and Overlord, in his own twisted way, can’t help but start to find the result of it somewhat attractive. He likes a bot that could match his freak. Needless to say, he’s grown intrigued by who you’ve now become.

— Remember that whole not having any respect for your personal space thing? Yeah… that gets a whole lot worse now that he's intrigued by you, to a point where he's constantly getting glares from you as he pushes his luck. He dared to wrap his servo around your shoulder which earned him a quick, stern “Keep your distance.” from you. He listens at the moment you say it, only to do it again moments later. But his touches don’t really escalate from your shoulders.

— He’s like your tail at this point, following you around whenever he’s bored has become a routine habit. You find it slightly annoying but you can’t do anything about it other than sigh. Despite your tenacity, there was no way by the Pits you could discipline a Phase Sixer, Warrior Elite… that was far above anything you could do and you seemed to acknowledge that. Overlord has come to enjoy your tired sighs directed at him. Ironically enough, the rest of your crew assumes you’ve managed to keep him close to keep an optic on him… but that one small advantage does not make up for it in comparison to the insufferable personality of this mech.

— Sometimes you scold him and he just pouts playfully, pretending to be hurt because he really does not care at all. He's a cocky bastard. Overlord thinks its cute you're even trying to in the first place.

— The more he follows you around on your various missions, the more he finds himself admiring your way of doing things. He can’t help but get more and more intrigued by your cold, silent ruthlessness, so distant from the grandeur displays of the same he exhibits with his dramatic flare.

There you were. Another successful mission and Overlord watches keenly, watching you work has become somewhat of a hobby for him now. He admires the way your processor works. You’d manage to eliminate an entire unit of seven single-handedly by picking them off one by one from the shadows and terminating them in silence. You were scarily stealthy, he could see that. You were light on your pedes, not even he could pick up on the sounds of your pede-steps.

“I must say, you’re certainly creative.” Overlord speaks with a surprising amount of sincerity in his tone that is actually not sarcasm for once which visibly startles you and he can tell that with how your crimson optics slight widen, you truly didn’t expect it from him. It makes him amused.

“When you pick them off one by one, the rest get panicked and they do something brash.” You explain your approach, Overlord has found the way you explain why you did what you did quite charming by now even if its slightly off putting.

“Hm. Weaponizing their anxiety and fears? How dastardly.” Overlord was more of a ‘making his presence known’ kind of mech however, he’s grown to silently admire your way of getting things done. You were absolutely cunning and dangerous and he loves it; he’s honestly surprised you haven’t tried to worm your way up to a higher rank. He also finds the small smile you give him when he figures out the basis of your approaches somewhat endearing. As if you're glad someone finally gets it.

“Exactly. Not just that but Autobots value comradery so if one of them goes missing, the others are sure to come follow.” Overlord was honestly finding himself liking you more and more as time goes by. You might be the only bot who’s surprised him with continuous streaks at this points because his smirk widens after hearing your words.

“Using their unity, their biggest strength to your advantage?” Overlord chuckles at the sheer wickedness you’re capable of. He has not met another Decepticon half as strategic or intelligent as you. Had every ‘Con been like you, he figures they would’ve won millennia ago. Even if you reminded him of a serial killer at times. Not like he is any better.

“You truly are something else. Full of surprises.”

— One of his favorite things to do ever is just invade your workstation to annoy you. Overlord won’t knock but you can tell by his heavy pede-steps that he’s outside your door and you have to mentally prepare yourself as the mech proceeds to make his grand entrance by waltzing in like he owns the place. You’ve tried your very best to get him to go away but its to no avail. Overlord just hovers by you as you type out reports, speaking of his musings and engaging in conversation with you.

— Overlord is actually not really bad to talk to in casual conversation. A lot less intense than he usually is, though his snarky demeanor remains. In fact, he finds you very interesting now and he’s slightly genuinely curious to know what you feel and think. He finds himself wanting to understand you but he’s not going to say that out loud yet.

— He didn’t like your blind hero worship then. He does not like it now given Overlord’s strained relationship with your leader. The one thing he does not like you talking about is Megatron, you seem to have an innate ability to ramble on about Megatron for hours on end and it really really pisses him off but he doesn’t show that yet. Overlord finds himself slightly… jealous in way? He’s always envied their leader but your words make it worse.

— Now, would Overlord realize he might have some sort of feelings for you? Yes. He definitely would. Overlord would assess himself thoroughly when he realizes he genuinely finds himself enjoying your company. But the biggest give-away to him that he likes you is the fact that he starts to find himself genuinely caring about your opinion which is a huge deal because he does not care about what any bot has to say. Overlord has never been one for romance, he isn’t sure on what to do with this realization. If he likes something, he’ll take it for himself. But he wouldn’t really do anything about it, for now. Solely because you’ve earned his respect to an extent. Overlord is the type to start off as very vague and slowly build it up. He’s got the patience.

— He wouldn’t really say anything about it but he finds himself quite pleased that you’ve gotten used to him and his looming presence. Overlord can also see that you’ve begun to slowly lose your cold icy exterior around him, he suspects that you’ve come to enjoy his presence slightly as well and he’s got quite a smug grin about it.

— Your crew is kind of terrified to approach you now because of his hulking figure looming above and it entertains him to be honest. Overlord can also tell you seem to care quite a lot about your crew which he finds quite… ironic in a way? It was as if your cold apathy was purely reserved for your duties. Overlord can see that you’re generally just introverted; you care about your crew, sure but you aren’t too keen on going out of your way to strike up conversations with… anyone really. A part of him envies your crew gets to see a slightly softer side of you.

— He can see that you truly do care about them with the way you’re harsh with them in general when it comes to reprimanding but you get a lot more…soft when in private. Overlord knows this because he’s seen you scold a few soldiers with genuine concern privately in your workstation, away from prying optics. He refused to leave your workspace when you asked him to during that moment so he ended up seeing this. Overlord isn’t sure on what to feel about knowing you can be soft. On one hand, its a weakness but by Primus, what he’d give to be scolded like that.

— Its the only reason he doesn’t terrorize your crew and, the nicest thing Overlord is capable of is abstaining from committing heinous acts. Something like the bare minimum of not committing murder without reason is kindness in his twisted optics. He's got stalker tendencies as well, he's gone from following you whenever you're in the vicinity to trying to find you for the sole purpose of following you. Sometimes though, he's just content with watching you from a distance and he's quite good at making sure his presence stays hidden. Overlord has become determined to know absolutely everything he can about you because of just how much you've piqued his interests.

— Overlord is definitely the type to check you out when you’re not looking. Only reason he doesn’t when you’re aware of his gaze and presence is because he wants his intentions to remain ominous. He also kind of cares about your opinion on him now so he doesn’t want to give off a bad impression, he’s aware you already sort of don’t like him.

— Unfortunately, his time with you on your ship comes to an end after a few years. He’s got other planets to go off to and destroy for the Decepticon Cause. His farewell isn’t very heartfelt, but he is dramatic about it.

“I suppose this is the end, Commander.” Overlord sighs in dramatic fashion. He’s gotten used to his name for you, ‘Commander’ and honestly, you’ve gotten used to it as well. He can’t help but have a smug grin at your slightly amused smile.

“Farewell, Overlord.” You just wave a little, rather awkward but mostly indifferent. He can sense that a small part of you might actually miss his pestering and he can certainly tell that you’re not used to goodbyes either. You continue to hold that signature blank face as your smile slowly dies down as he walks out, towards the rampway of a space bridge. Overlord turns around for a moment as he watches you walk away. His crimson optics slightly gleaming.

He was definitely coming back for you at some point. You’ve intrigued him quite a bit and he’s proud to say that you’ve managed to live in his helm almost just as much as Megatron has.

— After that whole thing, the only places he’s seen you at is in certain formal functions or meetings. His unpredictable mood improves drastically upon seeing you, a smug smile or often times, even a genuine smile creeps up on his face. You usually don’t engage with anyone at such events given your introverted nature, keeping to yourself in a corner while chaos ensues around you and who’s Overlord to deny you company? He’ll sit by you and catch up. But these little run-ins happen like once in a few megacycles. Despite this, you’ve managed to stay in his helm. He won’t say it but he misses you and he can tell a small part of you, just a tiny part of you might have fallen for his charm.

— However, this does not last. You’re foolish if you think anything could stay even remotely somewhat wholesome with a mech like Overlord even if he did act like your temporary guard dog for the relativelt short while he was on your ship. But that will be realized in time.

#transformers #cybertronian reader #transformers x reader #overlord transformers #transformers overlord x reader #tf idw #idw transformers #transformers x cybertronian reader

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kidspawn · 2 days ago

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Thoughts on Zutara?

Ah. Zutara.

I have to be honest, I need to tread on careful ground here because the last time I spoke on Katara shipping wars I got, essentially, drawn and quartered on live TV. In fact, I think the person who went after me wanted to send me into the 50th Quarter Quell Hunger Games to watch me die slowly, brutally, and in 4k.

Yeah, so I ship Zutara! I actually quite enjoy it thematically, and I can't put my finger on what draws me to it. In terms of just... chemistry onscreen - there's a genuine draw those two characters have to each other, and much like every other ship in the fandom it has an appeal to me when written well.

What made you ship it?

I think there was a buildup to it I always found very appealing? I can't think of a major "clicking" moment, because I made a very notable effort to stay out of ATLA ship wars so I just never engaged in Zutara content? Then, once again, 2020 I rewatched it and I went... "Oh. I get it now." And I think the biggest moment for me is in "The Southern Raiders." I find them most interesting when they bring good things out in each other - Zuko, for instance, really recognizing what Katara needed in that moment and how to give that to her, was what really sold it to me? I'm not too into the "oh my god he's like with the fire nation and she's water tribe oooooooooooh" but I do enjoy it for when they make an effort to connect due to their similar past experiences with the Fire Nation. I think, at its base, I really enjoy it from a thematic and a technical standpoint - it's a well-contructed and logical ship, and I think from a storytelling perspective its the most interesting and fitting for the story's themes.

(Also the Netflix adaptation marketing and the actors have fantastic chemistry.)

What are your favorite things about the ship?

I mean, I am confident enough to admit it's got an edge to it I adore in the early seasons? I love ships with nuance and intrigue, and I'll be the first to admit that scenes like the necklace scene in book one is... wow. Yeah. I didn't even know drawings could have that much chemistry. What the hell. It's interesting to me. I like that it works alongside Zuko's conflict to become good? Like, a majority of the Book Two ending angst involved him rejecting the lifeline Katara was giving him, creating a sense of betrayal and hurt.

AND THEN the journey to healing that is so beautifully crafted, oh my god. Much like I enjoy Sokka not really handling Zuko with kiddie gloves and joking around with him, I love Katara calling him out and countering him every step of the way. I find it fascinating, because Katara is so fiercely loyal and devoted to the people she loves of course it'd take a lot to heal that hurt. So, Zuko really had to do something valuable and noteworthy to regain her trust - and that arc is literal perfection, in my opinion. When she hugs him at the end of "The Southern Raiders" I genuinely get chills. They manage to go from "I hate you you are everything I have been told to hate and/or fear and you are the representation of all my past traumas" to standing side by side in a fight against the person who has the deepest hurt aimed at Zuko? Like, they work alongside one another to heal and fight their deepest childhood hurts? Like...? Damn?

(I am also perfectly content with them remaining platonic, and I see a lot of value in their platonic relationship. Because that's usually where the appeal of Avatar lies to me - in the found family dynamic. But I enjoy this ship for its narrative relevance.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I enjoy it more in-universe than I do outside. Because thematically its beautifully written. I don't dabble much in alternate universe writing, but the canon development is the most appealing aspect of it for me. God I cannot stress how, from a storytelling perspective, it is fundamentally gorgeous. The dynamics of it are built from the original cartoon's story beats, and I just think it adds that extra oomph. That KAPOW. That WHAM.

send me a ship

#i think i just talked myself into zutara shipping with this wow i broke it down and i went “damn that makes sense wow”#i like a lot of avatar ships but from a thematic standpoint ooooo it's got a bit of a kick #zutara #zuko #katara #atla #rederiss #omg this is so much fun i get to write meta for ships i never really think about too hard like i knew i *liked* zutara i didn't consider wh #huh this is so fun???

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advilakutagawa · 2 days ago

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An Analysis on Atsushi and his perspective of the world

I made an analysis a while ago that I'm still quite proud of so I decided to share it! I will admit I'm not the biggest fan of how I structured it but I loved how much of a deep dive I went into with Atsushi's character so I thought it's something that's worth sharing. Looking at it, it kinda just looks like a bunch of small analyses put together but I still think it's quite good.

Please note that abuse will be discussed in this and that I separate the society, morality and world of BSD from ours.

Atsushi's Relationship with Violence

Atsushi's relationship with violence has always been a key part of how he views the world. As a survivor of physical abuse who was told repeatedly by his headmaster (the person who abused him) that he was being harmed by someone who uses their strength to hurt the weak, he loathes violence, especially violence towards the innocent.

The Headmaster quite literally beat it into Atsushi that he must be someone to protect the weak. This is one of the motivators for Atsushi's incorrect (by BSD standards) view of the world. He believes he should protect weak people, because they are inherently good and must be saved from the "bad guys" (Akutagawa and the Headmaster, people who use their power and strength to take advantage of and harm others). Upon realising the strength of his tiger, Atsushi convinced himself (with some indirect help from the Headmaster) that if he does not fight to protect and control his violence, he will bring harm to everyone around him. Thus, he must go the opposite direction of ‘bad’ violence.

Akutagawa As The Exception to Atsushi's Rules

This brings us to Akutagawa. From his very first appearance, all the way to when Atsushi meets Kyouka, and through to the fight on the ship (no, not the one with Fukuchi), Akutagawa is fundamentally what Atsushi hates about violence. He is someone who is powerful and uses that power to take advantage of and hurt the weak. Akutagawa represents everything Atsushi fears becoming.

Atsushi uses violence too, however. Akutagawa and Atsushi are both people who have spent their entire lives fighting to survive, and still do, even now. They are reflective of each other, but Atsushi refuses to see himself as a violent person. Even though Atsushi needs to use that strength inside of him to protect others, he cannot bring himself to view that as necessary violence. Instead, Atsushi moves towards a life where the violence he commits is “excusable.” He was once someone who was very pacifist and hesitant to use violence, but now utilises his tiger and bloodlust as if it’s second nature (which, if you think about it, considering his tiger… it quite literally is).

Why? Because he is protecting the weak. His battle with Akutagawa on the boat woke him up to the fact that if he wants to fulfill his duty and reason for being alive (protecting those who can’t protect themselves), he will have to be violent in a way that is ‘good’ because the world of Bungou Stray Dogs requires it.

‘Good’ Violence and ‘Bad’ Violence

This understanding pushes Atsushi’s worldview into black-and-white thinking. There is “acceptable, good violence” that he inflicts on Akutagawa, and there is “unacceptable, bad violence” that he loathes himself for committing. The latter is the kind of violence that proves a person is dangerous and deserving of suffering and humiliation—things that Atsushi (and Dazai) inflict upon Akutagawa.

An aspect of Atsushi’s character arc that we see is his realisation that, in his Agency life, violence is necessary. Atsushi hates violence because he has never seen it used for good. To cope, he tries to excuse his own violence by treating it as “good” when he uses it to protect the weak, and “bad” when it is used by others, like Akutagawa, who harms those around him.

Akutagawa’s first appearance was essentially him waking Atsushi up to the violence of the real world through his (Akutagawa’s) own violence. This gives Atsushi traumatic flashbacks to his past, where the Headmaster had consistently convinced him that his treatment was to prepare him for the ‘real world’. Atsushi’s encounter with Kyouka further cements his hatred of Akutagawa, as he views him as a child abuser. This immediately convinces Atsushi that Akutagawa and the Headmaster are one and the same. Since Atsushi views the Headmaster as pure evil, he pushes that belief onto Akutagawa, seeing him as "someone bad"—someone who exists to punish and manipulate the weak with his strength and cunning.

Atsushi’s Black-and-White View of the World

Atsushi’s view of the world and of Akutagawa are challenged when Akutagawa not only succeeds in not killing, but also when he dies, forcing Atsushi to question why someone so selfish and cruel would make such a sacrifice. Atsushi’s view of others is very simplistic. He views people like Dazai, who went out of his way to help him, as completely good down to their core. During the argument with Akutagawa in the Cannibalism arc, Atsushi inadvertently excuses Dazai’s abandonment of another person, because it’s Dazai. He could never do wrong because he is a good person, and therefore incapable of bad.

Atsushi has every right to hate Akutagawa for his treatment of Kyouka, but at the same time, he ignores the moral complexity in others. He refuses to acknowledge the way Dazai treated Akutagawa or abandoned him, even though, like Akutagawa, abandonment is Atsushi’s greatest fear. Both are afraid they’ll be put aside if they don’t do what they need to do (protecting others, and killing others). Akutagawa intentionally challenges Atsushi’s view, just as Atsushi intentionally challenges Akutagawa when making the 6-month promise. They both think the other is selfish and foolish, and they’ve both proven time and time again that they’re right.

Akutagawa and Atsushi are both victims of violent abuse and abandonment by their abuser. They are both trying to measure up to constantly shifting goals and changing standards. Akutagawa even makes this comparison himself. Atsushi, on the other hand, is too afraid to make that comparison because that would mean he would be similar to somebody terrible, which shouldn’t be possible, because Akutagawa is inherently evil to his core.

The 6-Month Promise and How Atsushi Refuses to See Nuance in People

The 6-month promise Atsushi makes with Akutagawa is vital to Akutagawa’s development, but it’s also Atsushi’s attempt to convince himself that evil cannot prevail in his presence—the battle at the end of the 6 months, where he will try to beat Akutagawa—and that people like Akutagawa are incapable of change. Atsushi is sure Akutagawa won’t succeed in the 6 months, even questioning him when Akutagawa mentions it on the boat. In Portrait of a Father (the chapter where the Headmaster dies), Atsushi refuses to believe the Headmaster changed and continues to convince himself that this is the case.

Since Atsushi passively views Akutagawa as a reflection of the Headmaster, he is convinced that, like the Headmaster, Akutagawa cannot change. This is another example of Atsushi’s black-and-white view of the world. He believes people are either 100% good or 100% bad, and thus incapable of change.

Atsushi’s Fear of Becoming Like Akutagawa

Atsushi sees Akutagawa as a strong person who bullies others due to his lack of self-awareness. He fails to realise that Akutagawa is just as insecure about his own existence as he is, and that Akutagawa, like Atsushi and Kyouka, is fighting to survive. But Atsushi refuses to acknowledge this. Akutagawa is a "bad" orphan, and Atsushi was taught that bad orphans should be punished. Ipso facto, Atsushi inflicts violence and anger onto Akutagawa, a person who deserves it—‘Good’, excusable violence. Telling him that he deserved to get abandoned because he’s not good enough is exactly what the Headmaster told him over and over again.

It’s not just bickering; it’s targeted lashing out at someone Atsushi thinks is okay to lash out at because he was taught that that’s acceptable. The problem is, Atsushi refuses to admit that he sees himself in Akutagawa because doing so would mean admitting that he is a bad person and therefore deserving of abandonment.

Atsushi's Tiger: Symbolising Trauma and Violence

Atsushi's tiger symbolises his trauma, his past, and his true nature. He is a deeply violent and aggressive person, and just like the tiger’s agility, his emotions constantly shift. The weight of his past and trauma is as heavy as the burden he carries with having an uncontrollable tiger deep down, constantly trying to come out but repressed by Atsushi. Now, Atsushi uses his tiger to protect others, proving to himself that the abandonment and abuse he suffered was unjust and that he is, in fact, a good person.

If you've made it this far, thank you!!!!!!!! It's a shit load of words. I'd love some notes regarding my analysis and structure because I'm working on it in school right now and some tips would actually be pretty helpful.

#shin soukoku analysis #atsushi nakajima #bsd atsushi #sskk #bsd sskk #bsd dazai #dazai #bsd analysis #bsd manga #akutagawa #bsd akutagawa #shinsoukoku #kyouka izumi #atsushi #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs akutagawa

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blvnk-art · 2 days ago

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Hey Bianca, how are you?

I’ve been meaning to say this for a while because I’m honestly obsessed with your work. Out of all the Hinny fan artists out there, you’re by far my favorite. The way you draw them, the dialogues, the little interactions, it genuinely feels like we’re living alongside them. It’s so real and natural. I don’t even know how to explain it properly, but your art has this unique energy that just hits different, you know?

I wanted to ask, when did you become a Hinny fan? When did you start following their story and drawing them? And what’s your favorite Hinny moment in the books? For me, it’s when Harry is thinking about Ginny right before he walks into the forest to die. That moment, it’s everything. It’s like a silent “I love you,” and it breaks me every time, ugh!

Also, something that always gets me, why do you think they still get so much hate? I mean, their relationship is so full of depth, connection, and quiet strength, and yet people still overlook it. I just don’t get it, what do you think?

Oh, and by the way, I’m Brazilian, so feel free to answer in Portuguese if it’s easier.

You’re amazing, seriously, congratulations on your work, you truly rock, keep shining! <3

Thank you so much!!!

Well, I don't know exactly how I started shipping them. I read Harry Potter 2 times, and in my second time reading it I was suddenly wanting to see Harry's first noticing Ginny as more than just "ron's sister".

Also, when I started to draw my black and white sketches, I only drew Harry as an auror and his adventures, but then I started feeling the need to show Ginny by his side, during difficult and also silly and lovely moments.

So basically it was just something quite natural to me, no one and nothing forced me to do it. Except, maybe, Burdge's sketches of them, when I was quite younger. She inspired me a lot!

This is Burdge:

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ludolka · 14 hours ago

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Paranormal Traffic group has my heart in a choke hold <3. If they like go to get dinner after lunch I imagine them ragging on eachother for random things. I.e Joel won't let Jimmy forget he tripped mid sentence and came up with a completely new word (something between a curse word and a censored version)

But Joel and Grians back and fourth is always slightly more pointed, maybe? And everyone else watches them pick on eachother, and perhaps Jim corners him and "Dude either tell him you like him or stop picking on my brother >:T" and Joel blinks and goes "It's all in good fun, ask G, he knows it" and Jimmy taps his fingers, squints and "Hm. At the very least PLEASE stop fueling the 'ship' comments, I beg of you"

This, of course, does nothing.

That makes me so happy to hear :’) they are also so close and dear to me <33

And yess, they totally do that !! They are a friend group first and foremost, they like hanging out outside of filming and I can totally see Joel driving them to a McDonald’s at like 1 or 2 am after a long session and them just joking around in the parking lot while eating or them stopping at some Chinese buffet to grab dinner when they are done earlier

I love the new word invention thing, Jimmy would absolutely do that (though they aren’t PG on this channel) and the rest of the group would adopt that word into their dictionary and use it from then on. They have fun roasting each other after sessions for whatever dumb thing that happened during it that time and laughing about it

And yes, Joel and Grian picking on each other is,, different from how they pick on anyone else. I can see them getting sometimes rather personal, but neither take it to heart and they are cool afterwards like nothing happened. Them arguing over something, saying some rather hurtful shit, only for Grian to stop mid sentence and say something in a completely calm voice like

“Give me some of your fries, I ate mine and I want more”

“Sucks to be you, you should have ordered a large instead of a medium” and still gives him the rest of his fries

And they also have this tendency to both argue about three different topics at once and also to pick up arguing about a topic they started hours or days ago but got interrupted and them just knowing what’s going on while anyone listening in is just very confused and lost

Also Jimmy absolutely hates the ship comments. Maybe to kinda get back at the two and to try to embarrass them, he brings it up during filming once

“Do you guys know people are shipping you? What are your thoughts on that?”

“Shipping us? Shipping us where?”

“Come on Tim, you know that’s both impossible and illegal. Don’t be dumb and believe everything you read online”

“Yeah and I mean we are both here, aren’t we? How would we be shipped while also being here? Think Jim”

They absolutely know what he means, but they enjoy tormenting him until he gives up trying to explain it to them. Also whenever Jimmy asks them to tone something down not to fuel commenters or theories, nothing ever changes and sometimes they even play more into it just to mess with Jimmy specifically

Jimmy once asks Joel to tone down the nicknames, so during next filming Joel makes it a point to call Grian baby or sweetheart in every other sentence. Grian picks up on the bit after like the first five “baby”-s in only ten minutes and plays into it, returning the nicknames that he normally wouldn’t and they also spend that session suspiciously not arguing and standing closer to each other than usual

#activity detected au #ask #gribeans

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fall0utmind · 19 hours ago

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crazy but um I can’t stop thinking about polycule Gemma + Domi and Marcnaia (honestly they need a ship name idk how much of a ring Gemiziarcnaia (Gemizia + Marcnaia) has to it) but this is just my word vomit trying to come up with how this all goes down.

So I’m thinking Pecco (bisexual, experimented like five years ago) has chronic #ILoveMyWife syndrome and feels insane catholic guilt everytime he thinks of another man. Not because of internalised homophobia, he just feels like he should be 100% dedicated to his beautiful wife 24/7 or he’s a failure. So when Marc rocks up in the box looking like a whole meal he’s got white noise running all the time and cannotttt cope, going a little crazy.

In poetic contrast, bisexual power couple Gemma and Marc get their freak on and are used to having a third, both men and women. Gemma and Domi become friends first and like close, close. When they go out and celebrate, Gemma and Domi stick together, dance together etc

Then they’re on the dance floor and suddenly Marcccc is dancing with Gemma and Domi, and it’s not like oh he’s dancing withhhhh Gemma while Domi is just there, no no. Don’t you forget, the girls were dancing together first. It’s the three of them dancing togetherrrrrr, Gemma splitting her attention between Domi and Marc.

And Pecco, watching from the sidelines is like “I should hate this, my teammate is dancing with my wife but I don’t???? And my wife is looking at Gemma like that and I don’t even care…. I even like that???” But he cantttt go as far to admit that because being sexually attracted to his own teammate is one thing but being sexuallly attracted to his teammates girlfriend, even if it’s in tandem with his wife, is a wholeeee other thing.

Anyway, I think at this point Gemma and Marc, like I said experienced freaks, established like months ago that they both think Domi and Pecco are hot but don’t know if that’s actually an option to manifest in anything. And because Gemma and Domi become really close, Marc is like “Gemmmaaaaaa, they’re hot as fuck and Domi is super cool can you find out for us??? For me baby?? Pls pls??” And so Gemma must somehow casually mention to Domi that her and Marc are both bisexual and sometimes pick up thirds together and Domi mentally dials the fuck in.

Cause Domi, now she’s no moron, she knows if she plays the cards right she could have the hook up of the century, and she also knows that Pecco thinks he’s soooo slick whenever Marc is around but Domi knows the red faced where’s the nearest confession box look like the back of her hand. So she says to Pecco “Hey I know how you look at Marc-“

And Pecco stumbles into like the most insane apology, pledging for life to be a better husband. Domi’s like no you idiot it’s Hot and Pecco short circuits.

Cue healthy conversation about sexuality which Pecco barely struggles through, and then Domi brings up that Marc and Gemma have threesomes semi regularly, BOOM, second tower.

And Pecco’s like, “With other women?”

“Well yes but men too.”

BOOM, the pentagon

And it’s alllllll he can’t think about, doesn’t even clock in the rest of the conversation, too busy thinking about Marc and Gemma togetherrrr and with Domi and with HIMM, losing his mind.

So Domi just lets that sit with him. Lets it marinate. She knows she’s planted the right seeds. And sure enough, some time later he’s like, “Okay yes I’m sexually attracted to Marc and Gemma and You and like… I need that carnally, please please, pretty please with a cherry on top work your magic”

So now both Gemma and Domi have their boys’s green light and the next time they’re with each other, CIA style let’s do some business. So they arrange everything, just a hook up yknow, casual.

When Marc finds out that Pecco and Domi are game he’s unleashed. Comes up to Pecco in the half deserted Ducati hospitality, “Hola guapo!” leans in, *I saw you across the bar and dig your vibe* joke jajajajaja-ing to himself as he sits down and puts his feet in Pecco’s lap.

And I think Marc’s confidence is what calms Pecco down about this whole thing, like okay yes all consenting parties here are comfortable and this is normal, let’s stop freaking out about this.

And cue crazyyyyyy hot sex, life changing, mind altering. Then everyonessss like, fuck are feelings involved, and while the three of them may have to hold Pecco’s hand while he experiences his sexual revolution, I don’t think anyyyy of them can safely navigate or admit that romantic feelings have now entered the building and it gets messssyyyyyyyyy

Just my thoughts :)

Screaming crying and throwing up about this ask

@certainstarfishllama and I had a shout about this because I sent her my screenshot of this ask because holy FICK???

Anon, whoever you are. I love you. Would you like to co-write?😂😂

I absolutely adoreee how you've portrayed pecco here. I need him to be wet rat, wife loving and Catholic guilt to the max. It just suits him so well, so yes he's 100% having a crisis over looking at marc. Takes him a little while to come around.

The dancing is so important to me. Gemma and domi being the instigators of this whole thing and the first to fuck is also very important to me. Pecco being confused as fuck, watching with some concern but also heat building in his gut at war with thr fact that he should not be happy about this, right? Marc dancing with his wife? It's just? So confusing for poor wet rat pecco!

Also hi yes certified freaks gem and marc who invite a third frequently um yes pls.

Ngl this ask had me dying of laughter but also my brain going at 100mph because the way you wrote all of this is making me insane.

Again, you're genius with domi planting the seeds and slowly getting pecco on board. Pecco finding out that gem and marc often have a third is beautiful, domi using her ways to convince him is just!!!!! This is such an important ask to me.

Also, yes, yes, yes. Marc instigated him and pecco. Being so causal and confident that pecco just let's go - let's marc steer the shup, let's his wife control it for a bit. Girls are absolutely giggling over marc and pecco and how stupidly gone for each other they are. Constantly making fun of their staring at race weekends. Sometimes the girls leave the boys so they can go have their own fun - because wlw is the best - and so the boys kinda have to work it out. When they eventually get to the polycule, oh BOY. cause first, that's a lot of hot people in one room like dann. Damn. Second, I have some many thoughts about the dynamics here. Who takes charge? Who switches. Aren't there power dynamics at all, or is it equal footing? Does someone have a kink or something that's entirely unexpected? Like fuck!!!

I feel like gem would be good at taking charge and that's all imma say 🫠🫠

Also, the feelings of it all!!!! There's so much to unpack because wdym some people have a four way relationship. We are married/ dating like?

You should defo go check out @certainstarfishllama fic because we had a chat about this ask, and then she produced that marvellous masterpiece. I'm also going to ve writing a polycule fic series to come very soon!!!!!!

Thank you again for this wonderful ask.

Guys, if you want more polycule thoughts lmk!?- have started writing. And @certainstarfishllama + i do be talking a lot *hers will be 100x better than mine so read it

#motogp #marc marquez #motogp rpf #my fics #asks #pecco bagnaia #ducati polycule

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perseephoneee · 19 hours ago

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you always did like clint eastwood [kol mikaelson x f!reader]

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange information ↳ taglist

synopsis: you and kol get stuck in 1800's western america

cw: era typical violence, surface level wild west research

authors note: this fic is for my friend (who wishes to remain anonymous) as a delayed birthday gift hehe. love you darling.

Understanding Kol Mikaelson was like a rainbow; sometimes it happened, but rarely ever. And when you really saw him, you found a sort of beauty people would never see. Today was not a rainbow day. Today was actually a really, really bad day.

You're tired of being the Mikaelson's go-to witch. All it does is ruin your day and cause you too many bumps and bruises. And then there's Kol…Kol, who enjoys teasing you but will never let you get close enough to see what's going on beneath. It makes it hard to trust him. But you really need to trust him, especially right now. Because the latest spell in Klaus' hair-brained schemes has caused both you and Kol to end up in 1800s western America. Right in cowboy country.

You really could kill him.

If he hadn't distracted you, this portal spell wouldn't have sent you here. Instead, it would've brought something useful to you. But now you're stuck in an era where they really hate women, and they really hate witches.

"I'm going to kill you," you hiss out. You're blinking back at the sun shining high above you. You're standing under the entrance of 'Willowbrooks'– a western town from Kol's understanding. The dust swirls around your feet and gets in your throat, not helping your sour mood. It didn't help that the name sounded familiar; you were trying to think about why.

"It could be worse," Kol laughed. He put a hand over his eyes as he observed a vulture flying overhead. "I never had the chance to be a proper cowboy."

"Probably for the best. You'd be a nightmare."

"I take offense to that," Kol smirked. "C'mon."

"To where?"

"This sign might be here, but that town is still a while away. We should get there before nightfall," Kol started walking without you, and you groaned as you ran to keep up. He would occasionally whistle, which would only aggravate your mood. Sometimes, he shared a joke that would make you wish for a quick death from wherever you were heading. Your walk took the rest of the day into the evening until you eventually entered an old western town. You both stuck out like sore thumbs. Kol, ever the lover of breaking the rules, immediately went toward a clothesline at the back of a building. He tossed you some articles of clothing haphazardly, with you barely catching them.

"What are you doing?" you whisper, afraid to raise your voice. Kol starts undressing before you, and you quickly avert your gaze.

"Blending in," he replies. You catch a glance at his body, abdomen toned in a way that wasn't entirely fair. Your cheeks burn as you look away. Standing around waiting for him to be done seemed foolish, so you find another place to hide as you quickly dress. The clothes didn't exactly fit, but you made it work. It was just a simple blue blouse with a long tiered skirt. You kept your combat boots, hoping that no one would notice. You didn't want to worry about locating your shoe size as well. By the time you went back to Kol, he was also clothed. Between the dark blue tunic and the black vest, he looked like the kinda devilish character that you'd want to avoid in one of these old Western movies. But to you, he was the safest thing around.

"If anyone asks, darling," he gives you a look. "You're my wife, and we're visiting on our way to see family."

"If I'm your wife, don't expect me to be too nice about it," you smile. He just grins, fangs flashing.

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Going to a saloon seemed stupid and cliche, but the only inn in Willowbrooks happened to be a saloon. You followed behind Kol, and despite his cavalier attitude about your adventure, he kept close to you and seemed to be observing everything that moved. He didn't feel safe here either.

Unlike the movies, the saloon didn't come to a grinding halt when you both entered. A few stares were thrown your way, but fortunately, it wasn't as dramatic. You forgot that Kol lived in this time, which you guess was helpful because you probably would've gotten yourself killed if you were alone. He sidled up to the bar with no problem and requested a room, slipping into a western drawl that you didn't realize he had in him. You tried to observe your surroundings without being suspicious. Above the bar, a piece of paper advertised the special as a drink called "coffin varnish," which sounded as appetizing as one could imagine. The smell of the establishment left a lot to be desired and made you miss the glory of modern plumbing. But the thing that caught your eye was the glittering sheriff badge on a man sitting at the other end of the counter. He was in hushed conversation with another, maybe a deputy or just a friend, but you still managed to overhear some of it.

"That damn Foley coven is getting on my nerves," the sheriff sighed, taking a swig of dark liquid. "Especially Elizabeth. It's bad for business."

"Lincoln already freed the damn slaves; what else do they want from us?" the other man shook his head, looking at his cup.

"Easy. They want our heads," the sheriff chuckled, but it was an empty laugh of a tired man.

"Whatcha going to do?"

"What I always do," the sheriff finished off his drink. "Take care of it."

You jolted as Kol wrapped an arm around your waist, distracting you from your eavesdropping. He raised a brow but didn't say anything, and you gave him a look that you'd tell him later. He took the hint and nodded towards the stairs that led to the rooms, with you following behind. The floor creaked beneath your feet as you ascended to your room, a tiny thing at the end of the hall with a washroom across from it. You sighed as you saw the one bed, but didn't have the mental capacity to deal with it.

"This must be like one of your romance novels," Kol snorts as he takes in your tiny room. You sat down at the edge, undoing your shoes and ignoring him. "What, no witty comeback?"

"What if we're here for a reason?" you question, the thought circling your brain since leaving the bar.

"What reason, this was a spell gone wrong," Kol leaned against the wall, looking at you inquisitively.

"The sheriff down there wants to take out a coven of witches in the area, the Foley coven," you sat forward, hands on your knees. "I thought the name of this town sounded familiar, and now I remember why. The Foleys wanted to free the rest of the slaves on the western frontier, in addition to giving women more opportunities to work. But the town of Willowbrooks didn't want that. They ended up burning the head of the coven and set the two parties into a civil war. No one knew what happened to the Foley witches, and even today, if you visit the town, it's a ghost town. Literally."

"And this concerns us…?"

"What if we're here to stop the fight from happening, to save a witch?" you looked at him, hope and fury in your eyes. "What if that's how we get home? By righting a past wrong?"

"You read too many stories," Kol sighed, running a hand over his face.

"I don't know if we can save the witch that burns, maybe we aren't meant to. But I can't shake the feeling that we're here for a reason, and my witch's sense hasn't led me wrong yet." Kol continues to look at you with hesitation and tiredness. As you know, it wasn't in his nature to help. You were going to make him do it anyway. "Please?"

The internal battle waging war in Kol's mind made his eyes cloudy as he thought about what you said. He swore under his breath and ran a hand through his hair.

"We can…talk to the witches tomorrow," Kol said. "But we might not be able to change anything. Okay, darling?"

"Okay," you smiled, without malice for once since landing in this shitty town. "And Kol?" He looked at you. "Don't get handsy in the bed, or I'll cut them off."

He grinned.

Kol didn't touch you during the night, although he snored, which was fairly annoying. You woke up to the sight of him curled into a tight ball on the other side as if he was stopping himself from intruding on your personal space. It was the most respectful thing you've ever seen him do.

By the time he woke, you had gotten dressed in some clothes you had stolen from another room (sorry, unsuspecting patron) and used the wash basin across the hall. You still felt dirty, and the heat from outside wasn't helpful, but it was better than nothing. You wish you could have a toothbrush, though. You also ventured downstairs to the main saloon. You tried to be inconspicuous when asking where the closest food place was. Fortunately, they had a kitchen right in the establishment, and you were able to eat some eggs, beef, and beans. You even had coffee, even if it tasted like dirt water. You debated saving something for Kol but remembered he wouldn't want any.

You came back up the stairs to him, still lounging in bed, staring up at the ceiling.

"Planning to stay here all day?" you inquired, leaning against the doorframe. He smiled at you, not as flirtatious as usual. "What's wrong?" you narrowed your eyes. Kol wasn't usually this silent.

"It's…strange," he shrugged as best he could while lying down.

"Strange?"

"Being in the past," Kol sat up a little bit. He had taken the vest off before bed, and the blue shirt underneath was crumpled with sleep. "I've forgotten so much of it."

You take pause at that statement. "Do you remember much of your life?"

"Bits and pieces, like anyone looking back on childhood, I suppose," Kol played with the bedsheets between his fingers. "I… don't think I was very nice during this era."

He sounds so sad about it, and the feeling leaves an uncomfortable ache in your chest. Was it regret in his voice? Or just commentary about who he was. Sometimes, you couldn't understand whether Kol was warning you away from him or explaining his actions. His statement also came with the startling realization that of the Mikaelsons, he was the one you feared the least. Strange considering his reputation, but it was knowledge you tucked deep inside for later.

"I think you're nice," you shrugged. Kol looked at you with barely veiled surprise. "I mean, you kept to yourself while we were sleeping. That was pretty nice."

Kol grinned at that, and it made you smile. There was the devilish vampire you remember.

You departed quickly after that, making your way to the outskirts of town. Relying on your own sixth sense, you allowed yourself to be drawn to the magic farther past the confines of Willowbrooks. Kol made up for his somber morning mood by singing 'Cotton-Eyed Joe.' It was the first time on the trip you wished for a white oak stake so you could stab him.

You stopped atop a hill and narrowed your eyes at a dilapidated building below.

"That's where the witches are," you pointed. Kol put his hands on his hips.

"Well, darling," he sighed. "Let's meet your brethren."

You walked up to the building, the sun beating against you. You felt sweat beading on your forehead, rolling down your cheeks and not helping your already disgusting appearance. When you approached the door, you did what any sensible person would do– you knocked.

"Very polite," Kol murmured.

"Shut up."

The door opened, but no one stood behind it. You cautiously entered, taking in the darkness. You gasped as all at once, hundreds of candles flickered to life. A small group of women huddled in the corner, their faces illuminated by the flames. The one closest to the door, an older woman with braided long white hair and eyes the color of storms, stepped forward

"We've been expecting you," she smiled.

The woman was revealed to be Elizabeth Foley, the one the sheriff (who you learned to be named Sheriff Dunn) had complained about the day before. Apparently, one of the witches foretold the two of you showing up that day. You should really be less surprised.

"There has to be a way to stop this before too many innocent lives are lost," you said, sitting at a wooden table with Elizabeth. She ground a mix of herbs with a mortar and pestle.

"Innocent lives will always be lost as long as men are involved," Elizabeth said, glancing at Kol. He stood by the wall, watching the other witches work around him. He seemed uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry for bringing a vampire into your home," you apologized. Elizabeth grabbed your hand, squeezing lightly.

"I do not fear him, neither should you."

You didn't know how to respond to that.

"I will go into the town tomorrow and talk with the Sheriff," Elizabeth returned to grinding her herbs.

"He'll kill you."

"Perhaps," Elizabeth shrugged. You found her to be rather calm despite the circumstances. "But this town isn't lost yet. Perhaps it will take someone like you and your friend to convince them of that."

You went back to the inn by nightfall, finding yourself staring up at the ceiling instead of Kol this time. Maybe you both had issues with dissociating. Kol flopped on the bed next to you a second later.

"What do you think she meant by 'convincing the town?'" you turned to look at him. His hands were tucked behind his head, causing his shirt to slide up a bit. You ignored the sight.

"Get them to stop the sheriff? Who knows" Kol quirked a brow.

"But it might not stop a witch from dying."

Kol had nothing to say to that, and you didn't expect him to. You chewed your lip in thought. Eventually, you turned on your side to face him.

"Thank you," you murmured. He glanced at you.

"For what?"

"For helping me."

"I just want to get home," Kol snorted.

"I don't believe that," you replied, shaking your head. Kol looked at you, warmth in his otherwise dark gaze.

"You always see the best in people, don't you?"

"I have to," you glanced away. "Otherwise, no one else will."

Kol turned to face you, brows furrowed in thought. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair that had fallen across your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear. The warmth from his fingers made you close your eyes. His hand went to your neck, grazing the collarbone before dancing over your shoulder. You tried to keep your breathing even as he lightly touched you.

"Do you see any good in me?" he whispered as if afraid to ask the question. You opened your eyes, looking at the furrow of his brow to heavy lashes as he refused to make eye contact.

"I do," you hummed. "When you let me."

That seemed to settle something within Kol, who leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. It was barely anything, but you leaned into it, and that was enough to let him get rid of his reservations. His hand cupped your face, disrupting the hair he had been so gentle to tuck away. Your hand went to his waist, feeling the skin you had pretended not to eye earlier. You let out a gasp as his teeth nipped your lower lip, deepening what was already becoming something you knew you wouldn't want to run away from. Kissing Kol felt like a slow fire burning within you, growing in size until the only thing you could feel was his touch and his tongue on your body. His lips traveled along your jaw, kissing the delicate skin of your neck. Your mouth parted as blunt fangs dragged along the skin, nipping at your collarbone. You wished he would leave a mark.

Kol couldn't stay away from your lips for long and returned to them with a fervor that insinuated that he'd been waiting to do this for some time. You let yourself be pulled on top of him as he rolled onto his back, his lips never leaving yours. You parted to breathe, nose nudging his and safety flooding your body as his arms wrapped securely around you.

"Kol," you whispered. He hummed thoughtfully. Your hands brushed through his hair. "I've always seen you."

He grinned, kissing your cheek. "I know, darling. I know."

Unlike the night before, you let Kol hold you that night. You woke in warmth and a sense of belonging you'd been hoping for for a while. You didn't know what to expect today about the town of Willowbrooks, but you knew you wouldn't be alone through its trials.

When you stepped outside, the town was already waiting with bated breath. Elizabeth stood facing down Sheriff Dunn, her skirt billowing around her ankles and her gaze steely. Sheriff Dunn glared.

"Let this go, William," Elizabeth said. She seemed unhurried in her approach. "This town has suffered enough."

"Suffered because of creatures like you."

"No," she smiled, a faint thing. "Because of people like you."

The town shuffled uncomfortably on their feet, unsure what to do. You and Kol circled closer.

"Elizabeth Foley, I charge you with crimes of disrupting the peace, and punishment must be served," Dunn announced, reverberating across the desert. Elizabeth didn't look shocked by this at all. You watched as Dunn removed his belt, wrapping it around his hands. Elizabeth got down on her knees, and you started forward. Kol grabbed your arm, yanking you back.

"What are you doing?" you hissed, his grip a vice.

"You can't stop this, not by running forward."

"She's going to be tortured."

"It'll be worse if you intervene," Kol looked around at the people around you. You looked as well and took in the faces of horror and fear flickering across everyone's expressions. A half-baked idea started to form in your head just as the first whip sounded. Elizabeth didn't scream, even as the blood started to show on her shirt. Not even as Sheriff Dunn hit a second and third time. You watched the townspeople flinch, people of different backgrounds and colors watching with a tension that only came with disagreement. You wrenched your arm out of Kol's grip and approached the citizens.

"Are you really going to stand by and watch as this man continues to hold your freedom hostage?" you exclaimed, voice loud. People looked at you in shock, Kol included. "When this woman is fighting for all men and women, regardless of circumstance, to have the same rights as the white man?"

"She is ready to take the belt if it means protecting people like you, people who never protected her," Kol yelled, joining you in your protest. He sent you a wink as he faced the other side of the town.

"You have the power to do something! You have the power to put your foot down!" You walked closer, making a point to look at each person individually. You saw a few nods, and you let your voice get louder. Each exclamation between you and Kol drowned out the held-in whimpers of Elizabeth and the sound of the cracking skin. You watched the light ignite within more and more people and, for once, started feeling actual hope.

It wasn't until Elizabeth was a heap on the ground, barely holding herself up, that the sound of a rifle being cocked reverberated throughout the courtyard. One of the men was aiming at the sheriff, who looked at him in shock.

"That's enough, William. Let her go."

"Let us go," another man said, his own belt off and wrapped in his hands. More people kept joining in, saying similar sentiments. Sheriff Dunn hissed, stepping away from the approaching mob. He reached for his own gun, but the sound of several others being pointed his way was enough to set him running instead. As dozens of townspeople chased after him, you watched in satisfaction as metaphorical pitchforks arose. You spent only a second in that feeling before rushing towards Elizabeth. You slumped on the ground, pulling her into your arms.

"Elizabeth," you gasped, your hands covered in the blood seeping through her clothes. She looked up at you with dazed eyes, her hand coming up to cup your cheek.

"You did it, sweet girl."

"I-I didn't do anything," you stammered.

"You brought hope," she coughed. "The most precious gift of them all."

Kol ran up next to you, biting into his wrist as he skidded to a stop next to Elizabeth.

"Drink," he demanded. "Let us help you."

"I don't need your blood, Mikaelson," she chuckled. You don't remember telling her his name. "My coven can heal me just fine. It's time for you two to go."

"Go? How?" you inquired, looking at Kol. He shrugged.

"Take care of her," Elizabeth said to Kol, nodding.

You couldn't get another word in as you felt your body dissipate into sparkling atoms. By the time you re-materialized, you were back in the Mikaelson compound. Rebekah startled from her place on the couch, glancing at the two of you, hand-in-hand on the ground. She took in both of your outfits and snorted.

"Well, Kol," she drawled. "You always did like Clint Eastwood."

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #the vampire diaries #tvdu #the originals #my writing

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padawan-snack-packer · 2 days ago

Note

Hi!! Could you please write a Reader/Captain Rex fic where Reader has a nightmare and Rex find them panicking and then he calms them down? shipping if possible?

Thank you sm and no worries if you don't want to write it!!!<3

"Stay with Me", a Reader/Captain Rex ficlet

Hi Anon!!!

Of course I could write this — thank you so much for trusting me with such a soft and emotional idea!!!💙 I had way too many feelings about it (Rex my beloved) and I hope you enjoy this little piece of comfort!!!

Sending you the biggest hugs and a very small, very loyal squad of clone troopers to protect your dreams 😌✨

Title: "Stay With Me" Pairing: Captain Rex/Reader Prompt/Tags: Nightmare / Panic Attack, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Fluff)

The first thing you register is the cold.

It sinks into your bones, wraps around your lungs like wire, makes it impossible to draw a full breath. Cold sweat clings to your skin, your shirt sticking uncomfortably to your back. Cold air burns every shaky gasp you drag into your chest. Your hands won’t stop trembling, fingers clawing uselessly at the tabletop you’d slumped over hours ago.

The world around you is all wrong — too loud, too sharp, tilting dangerously like a ship about to capsize.

And it hits you all at once.

The terror.

The blind, clawing panic tearing its way up your throat, hollowing you out from the inside. Your heart hammers against your ribs, too fast, too hard, and you can’t catch up. You can't slow it down. You can’t—

You don’t even realize you’re gasping, half-choking on thin air, until someone says your name.

It cuts through the rising storm in your head — distant, urgent — but the words don’t make sense at first. Everything’s muffled, underwater.

Then again, sharper this time. Closer.

“—’ey, cyare. Hey. Look at me.”

Fingers — warm, steady — wrap around your wrist. Not yanking. Not hurting. Just anchoring. Holding.

You flinch, a strangled sound scraping from your throat.

“Hey, hey, easy,” the voice says, low and steady, trying to meet you wherever you’ve fallen. “You’re alright. You’re safe. I got you.”

You blink, or maybe you don’t — your vision swims either way — and suddenly there’s a face in front of you, close enough that you can see the way the worry creases the corners of his mouth.

It’s Rex.

Of course it’s Rex.

You’re not sure when you started needing him this badly. Maybe it was the late nights in the barracks, the way he always found you when the walls felt like they were closing in. Maybe it was the soft way he said your name when you forgot how to breathe.

You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing the heels of your palms into them until you see stars. You're still half in the nightmare — trapped in the awful dark — the mission gone wrong, the blasterfire too loud, blood pooling too fast for your hands to stop it—

Something shatters inside your chest, a tidal wave of relief and shame and helplessness crashing down all at once.

“I— I can’t—” you choke out, words broken and useless. Your whole body is shaking like a speeder at top speed about to fall apart.

Rex moves instantly, pushing your scattered datapads and notes aside with a sweep of his hand. He crouches in front of you, putting himself right in your line of sight, like he’s trying to block out the rest of the spinning, punishing world.

“Focus on me, cyare,” he says, voice firm but so gentle it hurts. “Just me.”

You blink again, and this time a tear slips loose, sliding hot and miserable down your cheek.

You hate this. You hate being weak.

But Rex just shifts closer, so close you could fall right into him, and taps his forehead against yours.

“You’re alright,” he murmurs, one hand coming up to cradle the back of your neck, thumb stroking slow, steady circles against your skin. “You’re not alone. I’ve got you.”

His voice is low and rough, still wrecked from sleep. “You're safe. You’re right here with me.”

Your breath stutters again, shallow and panicked.

The table you'd been working at is littered with datapads, half-finished reports, the cold dregs of a cup of caf. You must have dozed off right there — nodded off without meaning to, without Rex around to nudge you to bed — and the nightmares had grabbed you in their claws the second your guard was down.

“Can you give me your hand?” he asks, soft but firm.

You shake your head, squeezing your fists tighter into your eyes. It's too much. You're trembling too hard. He can't want to touch you, not like this.

But Rex just hums low in his chest — a patient sound — and waits.

After a moment, you peel one hand away from your face, shaking like a leaf.

Rex catches it in his gloved one, warm and sure.

He presses your palm flat against the rough plates of his chest armor.

“Feel that?” he murmurs. “That’s real. I'm here. You're not alone.”

Your fingers flex helplessly against him. His heartbeat thuds steady beneath your hand — solid, grounding.

You cling to it like a lifeline.

“Deep breath, cyare,” he says, so gently it wrecks you. “With me. In… and out.”

You try. You fail. You try again.

Rex doesn’t let go.

He keeps murmuring encouragements, rocking on the balls of his feet like he’s settling a scared tooka kit.

When you finally, finally drag in a breath that doesn't feel like broken glass, you sag forward, boneless and exhausted.

Without hesitating, Rex catches you.

He tugs you down into his lap, wrapping you up in his arms like it's the most natural thing in the galaxy. His armor digs into your skin in places, but you don't care. You're too busy anchoring yourself to the steady rise and fall of his chest.

“Got you,” he says, rumbling low against your hair. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

You whimper, tiny and wrecked, and Rex just holds you tighter.

The room hums around you — the faint buzz of the lights, the distant roar of Coruscant traffic. You bury your face against the crook of his neck, breathing in the warm, familiar smell of him: leather, metal polish, soap.

Safe. Alive. Here.

After a while, your shudders slow. Your fists unclench. Your heartbeat, once frantic, starts to sync with his.

“You didn't have to—” you start, voice cracking apart on the first word.

“Shh,” Rex says, thumbing gently along the back of your neck. “None of that.”

You let yourself fall silent, too wrung-out to argue.

For a long time, the two of you just stay like that, tangled up together in the half-dark. Then Rex tilts his head, brushing his nose lightly against your temple.

“You scare me when you don’t come to bed,” he murmurs, a confession barely louder than a breath. “Don’t like waking up without you.”

You blink blearily against him.

“…Didn't mean to,” you rasp.

“I know.” His hand finds yours again, threading your fingers together. His thumb rubs slow, soothing circles into your knuckles. “You’re allowed to need help, cyare.”

You press your forehead against the cool curve of his armor.

“I don’t wanna be a burden,” you whisper.

“You’re not,” he says fiercely. “Never.”

You close your eyes, feeling the world finally, finally start to settle around you.

Rex shifts a little, one hand sliding up to cradle the back of your head.

“You’re stuck with me, mesh’la,” he says, voice rough and fond. “Nightmares and all.”

You manage a tiny, broken laugh against his throat.

“Good,” you whisper. “You’re stuck with me too.”

“Wouldn't have it any other way.”

When your breathing finally evens out against his throat, Rex lets himself relax a little.

Only a little.

You're curled into him like you were made to fit there, but the stiff chair and the cluttered table, the cold armor plates pressed awkwardly against you — it’s no good. Not for someone who deserves to sleep soft and safe.

He huffs a breath into your hair, half a laugh, half a sigh.

“You stubborn thing,” he murmurs, low and fond. “Tryin’ to pass out on a damn workbench.”

You make a tiny noise — half a sigh, half a whimper — but you don’t wake fully.

Rex shifts carefully, keeping one hand steady behind your shoulders, the other braced under your knees. In one smooth, practiced motion, he scoops you up against his chest like you weigh nothing at all.

You let out a soft, breathy whine at the movement but nuzzle closer without waking, instinctively seeking out his warmth.

Rex’s heart damn near stops.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve got you,” he says under his breath, a helpless smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can’t leave you to drool all over the paperwork, now, can I?”

He makes his way toward the bunks, his boots thudding quietly against the floor.

It’s slow going — not because you’re heavy, never that — but because he can’t bring himself to jostle you too much. You deserve better than being startled awake after a night like this.

The door to your shared quarters hisses open.

Rex nudges it shut behind him with his foot and crosses the room in a few strides.

He’s careful lowering you onto the bed — slow, steady — peeling your arms from around his neck like untangling vines.

You mumble something incoherent, fingers clenching weakly in his sleeve.

Rex leans in close, letting his forehead brush against yours.

“Still here, cyare,” he whispers. “Not goin’ anywhere.”

You settle again with a soft, shuddery sigh.

But when Rex moves to back away, your hand finds his gauntlet, tugging weakly.

He glances down at his armor, grimacing.

“Not sleepin’ in full kit, mesh’la,” he says, teasing low, as he starts peeling off the chestplate. “Might be part durasteel, but you’re not. You deserve better than cuddlin' cold plastoid.”

Bit by bit, he sheds the armor, setting each piece aside with quiet, careful movements.

When he’s finally down to the blacks, he slides into bed beside you, gathering you close again.

This time, when you curl against him, it's all warm fabric and steady heartbeat and the sure, safe weight of his arms around you.

Rex presses a kiss to the crown of your head — featherlight.

“You’re safe,” he breathes against your hair.

You don’t answer — not out loud. But your hand fists weakly in the front of his blacks, anchoring yourself there, and that's answer enough.

He stays awake a little longer, listening to the soft hitch of your breaths smoothing out into real sleep.

Only when he’s sure you’re deep under — nightmare-free, finally at peace — does Rex let his eyes drift closed too, his hand never once letting go of yours.

And if he wakes up sore and cramped because he refused to shift and risk waking you?

Well. He figures that’s a small price to pay for keeping you safe through the night.

#star wars #clone wars #sw tcw #swtcw #clone troopers #star wars clone wars #star wars clones #star wars fic #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #captain rex #tcw #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you

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