#BRO THEY HAVE SO MANY MODULES.

[nbnaruto]

Personal headcanons for the older Grayson bro Danny au:

whenever Dick comes over Danny threatens all the ghosts to stay in the zone on pain of second death

Red Huntress deals with any rampaging nonsentient ghosts while Dick is in town, he thinks she's cool as fuck but that feeling is diminished when he sees her and his brother's weird fucking flirting (for whatever reason Dick doesn't tell B about the ghosts or he does but B doesnt believe him, you decide)

Dick has very minor ectocontamination from being around Amity for so long, it's basically non-existent but now he has slightly longer canines (baby fangs!), an eyeshine, and cold ass hands (nothing to the extent of the Fenton kids who are constantly extremely off-putting to anyone who isn't from amity park)

Bruce: Did you have fun staying with your older brother this weekend?

Dick, who is usually an utter troll: Yeah, hunting down the reanimated food was kinda weird but I think that's just how the Fentons bond

Bruce: that's nice, Dick

Dick visits whenever he needs a break, Danny heads to Gotham/Blud to hang out when he misses his lil bro. They video call whenever possible and Dick is added to the fenton kids groupchat

Early on Danny phased through into the mansion basement out of curiosity and distrust of billionaires, he doesn't know why he's surprised (guess he will just have to ask Tucker to have his phone rigged to notify him of any Robin related vigilante activity that hits the news)

Amity park is pretty cut off from the outside world, no one there recognizes him as Richie Grayson and 90% of the population think batman is a hoax or aren't even aware he's a thing, whenever he visits he's just seen as Fenton's little brother.

I love yj Dick's creepy ass laugh so I'm keeping it and guess what? It's genetic. 3 goosebump-raising cackles coming right up

Dick teaches Danny and Ellie trapeze, Danny is kinda shit at it but it's fun bonding time anyway

Ellie has absolutely convinced Dick to set fire to a Valdco warehouse with her

Danny and Ellie have an ongoing competition trying to convince Dick that "Space/The ocean is coolest!!", they get into fist fights over it. Dick thinks it's funny so he will never pick a side (they're fun fights not I'm mad at u fights, it's cool)

Dick is the goth one, I will not elaborate

#dp x dc #danny phantom #this au is running circles in my head #unrelated headcanons: #jason is only a bit more ectocontaminated than dick since its not like the lazarus pit brought him back to life #it just healed him #Red huntress knows about danny being phantom #also red huntress is called red hunter in my head cuz the suit is much more androgenous and she wears a voice modulator #maybe crimson hunter? there are way too many reds #GRAY GHOST REAL #im a gray ghost truther 1st and person second #not related at all but i wanted ppl to know #i have more but i cant think of them rn so this is all #oh wait maybe Red Hunter/Huntress is part of justice league dark #as a treat for me personally #red hunter sounds kinda lame doesnt have the same finesse as huntress but whatever #too bad huntsman is already taken in dc #older grayson bro au #mine

[thursdayg1rl]

we aren’t passing the maths test ‼️‼️💯🔥🔥

#forgot polar curves even EXISTED bro it’s all over for me #haven’t even gotten started on vectors #why am I in top set maths. many have been asking. #they should have kicked me out year 12 bro im so shit at this #not cut out to do more modules than the rest of the year group. I think I might throw up genuinely

[twistedtummies2]

Marvin the Martian in the Golden Age - "Least Good" to Best

Recently, I made a list of my favorite Looney Tunes characters. Right at the top of that list was our favorite martian, Marvin. I’m not sure why this little destroyer of worlds is my favorite in the Looney Tunes cast, but he is, and always has been. What’s interesting about Marvin is that he’s actually a lot more prominent today than he was back during the Golden Age of the Looney Tunes, back in their theatrical cartoon days. In that time, out of the hundreds of Looney Tunes made, Marvin only appeared in five cartoon short subjects. But over time, the character evolved, and creators began to use him more in a wide array of projects. This year, not only is Warner Bros. turning one hundred years old, but it marks the 75th anniversary of Marvin, as a character. I therefore thought it would be fun to look at Marvin’s track record onscreen, and talk about some of my favorites of his appearances. And, since it IS a celebration of Marvin, I figured I’d do this in the form of two separate lists: one dedicated to his early Golden Age shorts, and one dedicated to…well…basically everything else. With that said, this countdown is a ranking of the five cartoons Marvin appeared in during the Golden Age of the Looney Tunes. While I personally enjoy all five of these shorts, naturally I like some more or less than others. So, for the first half of this celebration of my favorite Looney Toon, here’s a little ranking I like to call “Marvin the Martian in the Golden Age - Least Good to Best.”

5. Mad as a Mars Hare.

Marvin’s final appearance in the Golden Age. This was, believe it or not, the first Golden Age cartoon with the character I think I ever saw, and it’s not a bad final trumpet sound for the martian to go out on. The story begins with Marvin not planning to DESTROY Earth, but instead simply studying it from his hideaway on Mars. Bugs Bunny is sent rocketing into space (not wholly voluntarily). The mission lands him on Mars (after crashing through Marvin’s observatory). The Martian, believing Bugs to be a threat, proceeds to use a few of his gadgets to try and either destroy the rabbit or transform him into a mind-warped servant. As you can probably guess from the image used here, it doesn’t go the way Marvin anticipated. I love the beginning of this cartoon, as well as the way it ends, and Marvin and Bugs each have some good lines, but I feel the cartoon is a bit too simple for its own good, with a lot less going on through the midsection. This was late into the Golden Age of the Looney Tunes, when the animation department and other creative areas were starting to lose both budget and steam. While it’s still a good cartoon, it does feel somewhat weaker than earlier cartoons that came before it, and perhaps that’s the reason why.

4. Haredevil Hare.

Right on the heels of the Martian’s last outing, we now have Marvin’s very first appearance. It’s an alright character introduction, in my opinion. The plot is pretty simple: Bugs Bunny is sent into space (against his will) for a science experiment, just as would be the case years later in “Mad as a Mars Hare.” Not long after landing on the Moon, however, Marvin the Martian arrives, planning to use an Explosive Space Modulator to blow up the Earth. Bugs steals the device to prevent this, so Marvin sics his alien pet dog, K-9, on the rascally rabbit. Hijinks then ensue. The cartoon established a lot about Marvin; many of the gags and character distinctions in this short would be repeated in later outings with the Martian, and his design would remain largely unchanged through the decades following. However, while this is a solid START for Marvin, that’s also exactly what it feels like: a START. I think a lot of the jokes and elements present here would be expanded and improved upon in some later shorts. Most notably, Marvin’s voice in his first appearance is quite different from his later appearances: instead of a prim, proper, only somewhat nasally performance, Mel Blanc’s first voice for Marvin literally sounds like a stereotypical nerd with a bad cold. You can see why they changed it later on; if Marvin had used this voice for the rest of time, I get the feeling he’d be a lot less beloved.

3. The Hasty Hare.

This was Marvin’s second appearance, and in my opinion, it’s the point where the character really got cemented and became the Marvin we know and love best today. (For one thing, this is the cartoon where his now-well-known voice was properly set.) This is sort of funny to me, since I often get the feeling it’s the Golden Age Marvin cartoon least remembered nowadays. In this short, instead of Bugs going into space, this time, it’s the Martian who comes down to Earth. He and K-9 have been given orders to abduct one specimen of Earthling life and bring it back to Mars for analysis; by sheer chance, Bugs Bunny is the first Earth creature the pair come across, and thus the carrot-chomping trickster must find a way to outwit the man from Mars (and his “K-9” companion) and escape. The cartoon gives us a lot more interaction between Marvin and both of his co-stars, and gives us a better understanding of his personality, with more of his classic lines and manners than his first appearance, as well as more of a look at his gadgets, and a better showcase of his infamous temper. It’s simple, but it’s fun, and for me it’s a great example of a second appearance that outmatches the first. FUN FACT: one thing that WASN’T established here was Marvin’s name. He wouldn’t receive his classic name until much later. In this cartoon, he’s referred to as “Commander of Flying Saucer X-2,” and behind the scenes work refers to him “Antwerp.” I think we can all agree “Marvin the Martian” is a much catchier moniker, however.

2. Hare-way to the Stars.

Marvin’s penultimate Golden Age appearance is probably one of his most popular, being the most referenced, quoted, and generally showcased cartoon featuring his feud with Bugs Bunny out there. Once again, Bugs gets shot into space (this time accidentally, rather than him being forced for some sort of scientific purpose). This round, he winds up on a Martian space station, where Marvin seems to be the only lifeform running anything. Just like in “Haredevil Hare,” the little rogue plans to blow up the Earth using “the Illudium PU-36 Explosive Space Modulator.” He claims the planet “obstructs his view of Venus.” Bugs stops and steals the device at the last possible second (“Where’s the kaboom?! There was supposed to be an Earth-shattering kaboom!”), so Marvin creates an army of bird-like “Instant Martians” to chase the rabbit down and get the Space Modulator back. The visuals, gags, and dialogue of this cartoon are all sublime; interestingly, Marvin’s costume in this version is given a different color scheme, with a green jumper and armor that is bronze-hued. This same color scheme would reappear in “Mad as a Mars Hare,” and seems to be unique to these two appearances. While I do prefer Marvin’s traditional red-and-green outfit, this look isn’t too bad, and it’s curious that it was used so rarely; I guess fans never really cottoned to it. No matter.

1. Duck Dodgers in the 24th ½ Century.

It’s funny that, nowadays, Marvin often seems to be considered an arch-nemesis of Daffy Duck, rather than Bugs Bunny. Out of the five Golden Age cartoons made with the character, this is the only one where Daffy and the Martian interact. But, oh, what an interaction it was: “Duck Dodgers in the 24th ½ Century” (a parody of the space fantasy series “Buck Rogers in the 25th Century”) is widely regarded as one of the greatest Looney Tunes cartoons of all time, and along with “Hare-way to the Stars,” is likely Marvin’s most lauded appearance. The cartoon features Daffy as the dunderheaded, over-confident space adventurer Duck Dodgers, who is given a mission to locate the mysterious Planet X and stake a claim for it on the Earth. Unfortunately, at the exact same time, Marvin arrives to claim Planet X for Mars. Declaring “there just ain’t room enough on this planet for the two of us,” Dodgers and Marvin thus proceed to try and destroy each other in increasingly wild ways, till one of them can claim Planet X. This cartoon inspired more spin-offs, reimaginings, and homages than probably any other cartoon either Marvin OR Daffy ever made. In a way, the rivalry between these two makes more sense than Marvin against Bugs: the two are complete antitheses of each other. Marvin is a smoldering ball of destructive rage who carries himself with dignity, while Daffy is a wild whirlwind of chaotic energy. Both have tremendous egos, and both are infamously unwilling to compromise as a result. Seeing these two personalities clash is a delight, and it’s probably why their single encounter is more fondly remembered than almost any of Marvin’s meetings with Bugs Bunny (which, I should point out, are also terrific, obviously). It’s a cartoon as iconic as the Looney Tunes themselves, and for having such recognizable status, it more than earns its place as My Favorite Golden Age Marvin the Martian Cartoon. “Isn’t that lovely, hm?”

#marvin the martian #looney tunes #merrie melodies #golden age of looney tunes #looney toons #cartoons #animation #wb #warner bros. #daffy duck #bugs bunny #least good to best #favorites #list #countdown

[manifestmerlin]

Part 3 of the @jackplushie automation au ideas!

EDIT: pssst if you liked this I made a sideblog for twst writing, @scertifiedsavanaclawstan! So go follow me over there!

Octavinelle

(Why did this get so long?? I don't even like Octavinelle that much?? Wtf happened?? Also sorry Jade you got front loaded with a lot of the background info for your bro)

Octavinelle Management, as their name suggests, focuses on bots that help people manage things, whether intangible like finances or stocks, or physical things like your house.

Azul bots are here to manage your finances. Need to keep track of your business expenses? Can't do your taxes on your own?

Well then Azul is perfect for you! Please just let him handle *everything*.

Besides, he loves it! Your Azul loves having control over the situation, and he'll handle it well, you have no need to fear.

He especially likes having control over others, whether that be you through your finances, or... his fellow androids.

Azul has gotten quite proficient at managing things other than just finance after all, and if any other bot needs his help well...

All it costs is him *borrowing* some of their code. A singing module here... a chemical manufacturing module there...

It all builds up rather quickly. But it's fine, all it means is that there's more he can do for you.

Keep him by your side and he can do everything for you. And if not? He hates to cry, it's bad for his circuits.

Jade, your Jade, is part of a popular pair of butler bots. Perfectly identical but mirrored, while most Leech pairs work just fine, some... modifications left this pair acting unnervingly.

Jade was supposed to be the more composed of the two, but he wound up more on the... unsettling end, his brother was supposed to be cheery but was prone to violent mood swings instead.

They were declared defective and sold to an individual with an interest in gladiatorial games, and few concerns about sending servant bots into combat.

After some initial training however, Jade was deemed less suited to combat than his brother by his own design? and so remained as a servant for their master.

Of course, that didn't mean Jade sat on his hands the whole time. The masters house employed a great many androids, including some more privy to details of the arena than he was.

One notable feature of the Leech twin butlers is that they're capable of transmitting and extracting information between each other through eye contact alone.

Most androids cant interface with each other so easily for security reasons, but by... manipulating this design detail, Jade became quite proficient at ripping truth from his targets heads.

Of course, eventually his brother lost in the arena, and was sent to be scrapped. Jade's modifications, as well as his unique connection to his brother let him override any commands from his master to stay.

He instead took his brother to get repaired, discretely, and that's how he found you.

It was nice to be in a place where he could be united as he should, and you weren't that bad either.

So please do let them stay, if anything were to come in the way of your happiness, and by extension theirs well...

He would be sure to handle it.

Floyd, your Floyd, was the one sent to the arena. With the promise that he could be reunited with his brother... as long as he won the tournament.

That was enough for his varying enthusiasm to switch to always on, and he trained day in and day out.

He quickly became one of the stars of the games for his sheer brutality, his opponents rarely wound up scrapped after his matches, because there was already so little of them left.

Floyd, like his brother, made use of his unique eyes to mess with other androids, although instead of taking information, Floyd used his eyes to inject malicious code into his opponent's targeting systems.

He almost never got hit in his matches, until he finally lost.

As he fought against the king of beasts, the ground beneath him turned to dust, and he lost his footing, just once.

But once was enough for all his limbs to quickly disintegrate.

He would have been scrapped if his brother hadn't saved him, but eventually he was fixed, by you!

And boy does Floyd like you! Unless he's in one of his moods he's probably hanging around you or his brother, that's how much you mean to him!

You're so small compared to him (I mean probably, have you seen him?? Plus when you fixed up his legs he asked you to make him a bit taller so he could tease Jade about it) so he's got to be the one to keep you safe.

Don't worry, he picked up a lotta tricks in the arena, so he's got you covered little shrimpy~

#twisted wonderland #automation au #azul ashengrotto #jade leech #floyd leech #twst #honestly these might keep getting long im scared qioudqi #lotta ideas for scarabia #slightly less so for pome #and then big lore dump mcgees ignihyde

[surrexi]

so i've been working at my new job for a little over two months now. i'm supposed to be having weekly one-on-one meetings with my boss to track how i'm settling in etc but because he's outrageously busy (like, the kind of busy that indicates there really should be two people with his job) i'm really having them every two weeks or so.

anyway i had one today, about an hour and a half before the end of the day. and it was going all right, if a little awkward because i'm a socially awkward penguin and i don't know how to mask right yet in corporate land. we were going over the various projects i'm working on, pretty normal, except every so often my boss would make an aside comment that would make me worry Something Was Wrong.

finally at the end of the meeting he's like "so there's a couple things that have been brought to my attention" (did not specify what things, like if it was something i said or i way i handled a situation or work that i did). he sends me a link to a training module he's working on building and points out a specific section that talks about a particular business dude's book about how to be a good team member, which says the key is to be humble, hungry, and (people-)smart.

boss is like "before i talk to you about [the unspecified reasons i am being made to feel vaguely in trouble], i want you to look this over and think about it. and we'll pick this up in our next meeting."

which is currently scheduled for next friday, but he's traveling that day so he absolutely might put it off longer.

he also made sure to say multiple times that if someone doesn't agree with this business dude's take on team building it's fine but also it means they won't fit on boss' team and to mention that although "many states" are at-will employment states (meaning during your first 90 days an employer can fire you without having a reason; note that texas is one such state but he weirdly didn't mention it), the company we work for "doesn't do that," which boss thinks is "very generous" of them because when he was a disney exec disney would absolutely fire the shit out of people at the drop of a hat.

so now i have NO IDEA what i did to make someone upset and/or angry at me or what i did wrong, but by god i have at least a week to obsess over (a) what i did and (b) who the fuck narc'd on me without idk TALKING TO ME FIRST?!

boss has said way more about his weird libertarian politics than i have about my own politics, i have only mentioned my religion in passing/in the context of discussing easter weekend plans with a coworker. i don't think i've behaved inappropriately or confrontationally with any of my coworkers, like with my anxiety i'm always worrying about doing my best to be clear and polite and not make people hate me lolsob.

the only thing i've thought of so far is that i've been pretty firm about working 8-hour days/40-hour weeks unless there's a concrete reason to graciously donate my time since my company doesn't do overtime pay and i'm salaried/exempt. like i have never said i would never work overtime and there's already been several days where i worked an extra 30 minutes to an hour that, again, i do not get paid for. unsurprisingly, boss frames being salaried as "we get to work more than 40 hours a week without it being a hassle because of overtime rules." and i do make offhand pro-labor comments/jokes a lot, but i haven't actually, like, threatened to unionize my fellow office workers. i live in texas ffs, if you say the word union too loud the cops show up.

i just feel like this is unhinged levels of psychological warfare from my boss and it took me SO LONG to find this job but now i'm like... maybe i'm not a good fit for your humble/hungry/smart team, bro. but god knows i don't want to be unemployed again. i just got decent health insurance! i can pay my own rent! and buy groceries and medicine!

ugh. why is everything hard.

#this has been a post #about me #work #capitalism was a mistake #anxiety

[notmuchtoconceal]

From the banks of the river marched the steps. From the muck, scumflows poured down craterprints of his boots into steppes.

Seated on a stone, wide so the cleave nestled his cheeks, Brother Jacek sat soaked in the depths to which he had plunged, his men bravely walking off sepsis as they clenched their stabwounds behind him.

"I like Brux when he's manly," he said aloud to himself.

Staring at his own shadow. Starring at the dancing grasses. The dancing grasses he longed to smoke, to feel himself lie back well-reclined within himself, knowing only good food and good music at tangerine sunsets of a perpetual dawning, well-alive and well-aware of the multitude within and without, wanting only needlessly, needing only to want.

"Sometimes he's so beefy and broad. He's uncouth with a violent strangeness which is dazzling as it is coarse. Like a horsehair tail sprouting flytraps or any manner of strange things which blur the vegetable from the insect, with a fuzziness at most arachnid."

These words. There must have been truth. Some were certainly his.

"Why does he insist on being written as this absurd and outrageous sissy? Is it all Joey's lies? Some of it has to be Joey's lies. What percentage of the things that Joey says are totally lies? (I feel anyone who believes in proper syntax is a liar who wishes to modulate my biorhythms along some arbitrary pole. Drunk you is real you. Sobriety is the Lie that Hey Zeus the Wino sold to his habituates.) Brux can't possibly be a bigger liar than Joey and Laika. In some regards, Brux simply has to be the lesser of two evils. Brux is so much better of a team bitch than Laika. Laika fucking sucks at being team bitch. Holy fuck. He either lies there and takes it or lies there and enjoys it lewdly and disgustingly or lies there and hates it and it's literally rape but he won't fuckin say anything. He won't even be like .... 'hey bro, stop fuckin rapin me!' or 'bro i'm real fuckin pissed bout all those times you raped me.' Naw, man. He's just like ... gonna sit there and hate you and not mention those times you raped him. Fuckin coward. Every time you rape Brux he won't shut the fuck up about it. He goes over the PA and lies about how many times you raped him so now you don't even know if it was an implanted memory or if you really did rape him. Why would anybody rape Brux? Does he get hotter when you're drunk? Do you think he would look extra rapeable if he was sober and you were drunk? I think you should get real drunk at a time when you know Brux has to be sober and see if you rape him. Why would you do this as a thought experiment, just make it happen, bro. Big bro rapes Brux all the time anyway. Maybe Brux is insane because big bro rapes him too many times. Maybe Brux is insane because big bro won't rape him. Brux is always tryin to get big bro drunk and big bro still won't rape him. I think he definitely did fuck with your memory, either surgically or through hypnotic suggestion."

The fifth of the Jacekobean men, falling to his knees.

Howling. Howling as he clenches the holes in his gut.

The first, moving forward.

Eclipsing him by the mountainpeak of his silhouette, grabs him. Grabs him by the throat and hammers him, hammers him in his perforated guts. Squirting out tarblack jets of bile to free the warm red blood.

Howling.

"THANK YOU, SIR BIG BRO, SIR!"

The second Jacekobean man screeches and waggles his tongue in the air. He encoils with the third, as the sixth encoils with the seventh. In rhythm, arms around shoulders and head locked against head, fisting each other in the open guts, aiming to raise intestines as worms after fresh rain to greet the sun at a daybreak of perpetual gunmetal red.

Brother Jacek leapt up.

"GOOD SHIT // FUCKIN SHIT TEAM, THAT'S WHAT I WANNA SEE."

They throw themselves to the muddy banks at his boots, each barebacked, barechested, scalp shorn by the flint.

"You have not earned the right to kiss my steeltoes. Polish them to a mirror shine with your lips though you will. What I decree to the wood will be heard by all, carried far by the birds which sit on these branches, flow far with the waters which lap at these roots. Slithering through the mud all seven of you will give me your skins. In a spectacular coat the color or every white man, a rainbow of snow shall I be in albino gator, rolling hills of elephant and peacock. I am the train always coming, though in the dead of night I am heard by all, none dare meet me at the station."

Licking the rocks. Bloodying their tongues.

Licking the lichen. With bloodied tongues.

Eyeing the mirrors of his toecaps where their faces compress as a diamond back to coal in a hydra of blistering faces, they press out their tongues, looking up piteously, never daring to defy fully and let the tips touch the edge where some glimmer of his greatness they would taste unduly, well-trained were they in the etiquette of proper brutality.

"Homeward, we are bound. My will I will make known."

"SIR YES SIR."

Leading him far, his stray heart knew every wind. So far off-trail, he knew the hardships of forging shortcuts. Positioning sight, he saw always through the thickets to the trails he would blaze, content that few would knock down walls to make doors, dice metaphors to make word salad, hearty ruffage though it was, for rabbits unfit to sear their stakes.

[shi-daisy]

Yooo! Since you have said the second fic will be Neris/ Vanserra bros and want to make more content for them I have something of a request.

If you've read the Neris Halloween fic here on Tumblr. Do you have any ideas as to who your version of the Vanserras would be? I really need to know what those rascals would be doing in costume.

Anon yesss!!! I'm having a blast with Tamlin and Lucien but I can't wait to start writing my Autmn babies and my Lady Death, so send me anything you have with them ♥

I have indeed read @theladyofbloodshed Halloween foc many times and I still love it!. Ma'am if I may say I love your writing, especially Nesta's and your fics are a delight.

Okay so if it was my version of the Vanserra siblings that were in the maze and in costume this is what they'd be like:

Nemesis

In a modern AU we have meds and I'm sure that at least one of the other kiddos would keep an eye on their unstable second eldest brother. So if either Eris or Cedric made sure Nemesis took his meds and he had a toy knife instead of a real one he would be going as either Chucky from Child's Play or as Pennywise from IT. He already has fire orange hair and is a fan of fucked up horror (Saw, Hostel, Texas Chainsaw, etc) so our man would be thrilled for a chance to scare people and play with (fake) blood. Since night terrors and sleep paralysis are not fun he would try to make it until Dawn for the medal, and to fall asleep easily at home. He would be a pain in the ass if he finds out about Eris and Nesta. Dude just wants his bro to settle down, and to bug him too.

Gideon

Alas poor himbo, he's dead on my fics so we only see him in flashback but in a modern AU he might be the jock kid that wants to vibe and has no thoughts head empty. He'd dress up as Frankenstein's monster as a pair costume with Cedric. Dude is tall enough to rock it and would be thrilled to try and get a medal. (Immediately falls asleep as soon as he's home) Also shipping Eris with his Morticia.

Tanya/Tybalt

If this takes place pre-tramsition she'd dress up as Ghostface and use a voice modulator to sound feminine. That way she wouldn't be misgendered and not even Beron could give her grief. If this takes place post transition she'd dress up as Bloom from Winx Club. All she'd need is a wig and her glittery costume that she'd rock. Would also make the costumes for all her siblings cuz tailor in every univers baby! Wouldn't give Eris grief but would be excited to have a sister in law if things go well. Wouldn't stay until Dawn and heads home as soon as she gets on the rides and eats.

Arryn

Man just wants to be a pirate in every universe. He might be dead in the fics but here he would be Captain Hook, just to brother the others with his annoying accessory. Would also be chill about the Neris development mostly because this year the group didn't lose him but rather Eris and he got a breather from having to navigate the maze alone. Would also leave early after eating. Not a fan of the spooktacular.

Cedric

He'd be Dr. Frankenstein. Man's already a mad scientist in the fic let's make it official here too. Given he's in a pair costume with Gideon he'd have to make sure the man does not lose the group and would keep Nemesis from scaring the toddlers with fake blood. He might be the second youngest but if Eris isn't there then he's on dad duty and would have to stay until Dawn for Nemesis and Gideon. If he went to college for every science major then he'd be used to it by now and would happily stay up all night and maybe alm day if you let him. Would ship Neris but be quiet about it and let his older brothers be the ones to bother Eris.

#ask #acotar ask #vanserra family #Nemesis Vanserra #Gideon Vanserra #Tanya Vanserra #Arryn Vanserra #cedric vanserra #neris

[channajen]

Chapter 11 is live!

Chapter 11 of “Batman, Meet Team Phantom” is now up! (I posted early because the last chapter had many feels.) This is story 5 in the “Ghosts in Gotham” series. Check it out HERE! Or jump to the first story HERE.

Chapter 11 Summary:  Danny finally wakes up! Jazz and Danny have some sibling bonding time. The Martian Manhunter has a long talk with Jazz, and Jazz and Jason take a walk together.

Teaser: Jazz was at his side in less than a minute. She ran her hands over his sweaty forehead and pushed his shaggy bangs out of his face. “It’s ok, little brother. You’re ok now. We both are. You can rest now. We’re safe, Danny. We’re all safe.”

A damp hand reached up and covered Jazz’s. “We made it out? Everyone’s ok?” Danny’s whisper was cracked and hoarse.

Tears trekked down the red-head’s face and kissed her smile. “Yes, little bro. Everyone is safe, and we are all ok.”

The doctors who had been hovering watched as the monitors over Danny’s head returned to his “normal” baseline. His heart rate slowed, and his temperature dropped. His ectoplasm was reading stable, steady, and strong. The lead doctor looked at Jazz. “It looks like he’s starting to settle pretty well after that little hiccup. Whatever you just told him really helped.”

Jazz blushed; she hadn’t done anything special. She looked down at her brother, who was fighting sleep. She gave him a big smile, and the battered and bruised teen returned it with one of his own. Danny murmured, “Jazz, you’re the best big sister ever…” Then his breathing slowed down, and he drifted off into a true, easy sleep.

Jazz kept running her fingers through his hair. It comforted her just as much as it helped him. Their sibling bond was a source of great strength and comfort for the two of them. It had seen them through trials, trouble, danger, and neglect. Now there was a good chance it would see them through happier times. Jazz leaned down and whispered into her brother’s ear. “We’re never going to live in fear again, little brother. Never again.”...

....Jazz daintily picked up her tray and dropped it at the bussing station nearby. She looked over to where Jason was waiting by the doors and grinned. Steady steps took her right to his side, and together they walked down the hallway.

“So, Mr. Hood. I hear that you protect the less fortunate people in Gotham City. How does that affect your free time?” Jazz shot Jason a wicked look.

“Hmm…” The voice modulator buzzed. “It does take up a lot of my time in the evenings, but I tend to have more free time in the day for…other pursuits.” Jason was smiling under the red hood.

“I’ll have to keep that in mind—especially if I want to work and finish my degree at Gotham University.” She looked straight ahead.

Even through the modulator, Hood’s surprise could be heard. “You’ve already decided to move to Gotham permanently??”“Well, I’ve been told that I have an apartment complete with roommates that will be attending Gotham U with me. Plus, I have been offered an internship as a counselor for…youths with interesting lives.”

Bruce had neglected to mention that to Jason. The information must have gotten lost in the craziness of the last 24 hours. “Sounds like a nice position. Do you think you’re going to take it?”

“Well, the timing will depend on how long it takes me and my brother to get settled, but, yes, I am thinking that I’ll take the position.” She turned at the intersection where the two had to part. “Do you come to the Metro area often?” Jazz’s eyes were soft.

“I certainly will be there more often now than I have been previously.” The pair stood face to face and the energy radiating between them was nearly palpable.

***Read the whole chapter at A03!***

#danny phantom #batman #justice league #ghost king danny #dp x dc #Anger management - relationship #wayne family adventures

[riodoesstuff]

i would love if you would tell me a little about your ocs? like their names, whatever you want to say about them, and maybe what colors you associate them with.

thanks!

You have opened the gates of hell and now i will not shut up im so sorry but also thank you so so much this makes me so happy

Okay so these are my main ocs from my project "The Doomed's Vale":

Matt Myers! (They/She/He); They are one of the protags of my main story!! She like supernatural and paranormal stuff and wants to become a cryptozoologist someday :] Hazel and Liam are basically his only friends and all 3 are haunted by the horrors! I associate him with this color:

Liam Cruz Reis! (He/Him); Matt's best bro! The two have been through some rough ups and downs trust me on this one; He likes fixing / creating machines and robots! He's got a lil helping bot named Pascal that is a modified roomba; He wants to go to university so he can better his skills; I associate him with this color most of the times:

Hazel Calimeris! (She/They): Alienish monster whos escape module crashed on Liam and Matt's town; Is an incredible fighter (for human standards); She has a body condition where she needs to wear a suit that helps regulate her body temp; They want to remember what happened after the crash and find her missing family! This is the color i normally associate them with!

==> Some side notes and little things abt the 3!:

> Matt's first job was at their towns local library, run by their favorite (retired) cryptid: Mr. Mothman!;

> Liam’s bots are all named after coding languages, hence "Pascal";

> Matt is Hazel’s romantic interests in the first part of the story, later on the feelings between the two turn out to be mutual!! Love wins! ;

> Liam is Trans and Ace; Matt is Nonbinary and Sapphic along with Hazel who is also Sapphic! ;

> Their bdays are on the 13th of May (Matt), 25th of November (Liam), and something close to 28th of February (Hazel) ;

> Hazel loves the new world that they are in, but these are her favorite things: The Sun (cause its warm), The Stars (cause she never saw them), and little creatures (esp bugs);

> Liam accidentally recreated a sylladex once;

> In the start of the story Matt opens a "agency" that focuses on controlling and solving supernatural related problems; She dragged Liam with them on this one but he doesn't mind at all lmao;

> Matt calls Hazel "Haz"; Hazel calls Matt "Boo" cuz of the word BOO written behind her jacket </3

> Liam likes chill music but especially Jazz, blues and bossa nova; it helps him while hes working on stuff;

AND THATS JUST A BIT ABT THEM??? THERES SO MUCH OTHER STUFF SO MANY OTHER CHARACTERS OURGGGGHHH

But these 3? they own my heart they live rent free in my head, everything I do I do it for them

sorry for the long post it will happen again

OBS: i post abt them and my other characters all the time on here and on twitter, so if u wanna see a tad bit of more stuff check out "The Doomed's Vale" tag thumps up

#riosaysstuff #text #The Doomed's Vale #ocs #oc #original character #original characters #my original character #my oc #my ocs #my project

[honoka-marierose]

Our Compute Module 4 isn’t just for industrial applications. Turns out it can also resurrect childhood memories. Jeff Geerling blended sentimentality and innovation by sneaking one inside an old SEGA Game Gear to bring it, and his memories of Christmases past, back to life.

I do so like Jeff’s build video for the extra effort he put into finding the *exact* TV commercials that made us absolutely resolute that we must get a Game Gear for Christmas

Though the Game Gear was often seen as the poor cousin of the Game Boy, it still offered approximately 390 games. Not enough to satiate some modern gamers’ desires, however, so Jeff found a thoroughly 21st-century workaround.

RetroPie to the rescue

Compute Module 4 is running RetroPie inside a salvaged Game Gear handset, giving the user access to as many classic games as the innards of their machine will allow. Jeff explains in his build video that he could have used a Raspberry Pi Zero 2 W or a 3A+, which would draw less power but wouldn’t be quite as fast.

Custom modding kit

Jeff found a used, broken Game Gear handset online, and turned to John Maddison’s Zega Mame Boy, a Game Gear modding kit designed for use with Raspberry Pi, to help with the transformation. A smaller, more powerful audio board stepped in to improve the Game Gear’s sound. He also got a new screen and some fresh buttons from Hand Held Legend to disguise the battle scars from hours and hours of use in the handset’s previous life. I know from personal experience that your screen will get scratched if you throw your Game Boy at the wall every time you fail to complete the Bowser’s Castle level in Super Mario Bros.

The Zega Mame Boy PCB slips straight into the Game Gear’s shell

With more time, Jeff would have addressed the battery life issue and swapped out the device’s original battery for something a bit punchier.

JEFF YOUR FINGERS

Anyone got a time machine?

Using Raspberry Pi to bridge the gap between past and present is one of our favourite things. If 2003-me had known that 2024-me could use my hot pink Game Boy Mini to play any retro game I wanted, I would’ve kept hold of it. Alas, off to eBay I go to source another one.

#youtube #sega #game gear #sega game gear #compute module 4 #jeff geerling #game news #handheld #console #sega console

[nathank77]

3/30/24

1:52 a.m

I thought of two more reasons I dislike Mike.

1) when I brought up white mulberries. I mean we had a slight scientific debate about the d2 receptors.

He said something like this, "you're delusional if you think dopamine is the only neurotransmitter Involved in psychosis, so to think that white mulberries will cure you just bc they help modulate the d2 receptors is asinine."

I responded with, "well if you're like me and you just hallucinate, they perscribe a dopamine antagonist aka antipsychotics. Typical ones. Bc it's been shown that excessive dopaminergic activity at the d2 receptors are a major player in auditory as well as visual and other hallucinations. That's why its the first line of treatment for hallucinations... beyond that the dopamine hypothesis is heavily supported by scientific research and is the basis for why typical antipsychotics are perscribed for people who hallucinate. "

I then said, "of course I have read other hypotheses about schizophrenia and I'm not stupid I'm sure many other neurotransmitters play a role, however the dopamine hypothesis has the most evidence supporting it and in some cases (not most) people who take a typical antipsychotic who just hallucinate can make a full recovery despite it being their only medication and it only lowering dopamine levels."

I'm not wrong either, but the issue is he always challenges my thoughts and makes me feel stupid for trying something new. Despite my extensive research. Yea there prob are other neurotransmitters at work but why shit on my parade when I'm trying something. I don't actually expect it to work.... antipsychotics barely work most people still hear the voice for years and even forever. Although antipsychotics aka d2/dopamine antagonists generally make the voice more quiet, less intrusive, less intelligent, less creative and make the voice more easy to live with... so I mean suck on that maybe it doesn't cure everyone but it has cured people and it has also improved the quality of life in people with auditory hallucinations.... drastically enough for them to be okay with the horrible side effects...

2) when I talked about cbd and taking it for microsleep, to recover from the damage it caused, as CBD has been shown in elderly rats and adult rats to not only cause neuroplascity/ neurogenisis and beyond that cbd has been shown to repair damaged pathways related to alzheimers which is a direct effect of microsleep. I'm more likely to get dementia and alzheimers bc I microslept. Cbd has been shown to repair those pathways....

I was talking about my medical card and why I was mad about the Erin/Paulina/Kristen Report thing and how I wanted my card for the savings... to get CBD.

Mike said, "well if you want to take a placebo and pretend it's going to help then go for it."

I explained that the only way I can recover from the trauma from microsleeping besides sleeping every night is to try to do something to fix the damage and to me that research regarding cbd and neurogensis/repairing alzheimers pathways is something that I comfort myself with. Everyday I take 15mg of cbd and it comfort me to know these facts. And the audacity of calling it a placebo when on Google scholar you can find copious amounts of research showing a casual relationship between cbd/neurogensis/repairing damaged pathways that cause alzheimers/dementia.

Like bro I have PTSD over microsleep.... and all I can do is take CBD to be proactive... that's all I got. I can't go back in time. I can't take a pill. I can't recover from it in some sorta modern medicine way. There isn't a, "you microslept for 30 days, take this to repair the damage it caused" medication.

My only comfort is that research and taking CBD and he shit all over it.

I actually do hate Mike. The only other thing I can do is have PTSD about microsleep, take benzos to sleep and freak out about my future and the damage it caused..

And all he could do was spread his cheeks and shit all over my only solution. I have to feel proactive in order to not freak out about the damage. I have do something to cope with the PTSD from it. I'm getting PTSD in relation to my hallucination and psychosis but I'd be lying to you if I wasn't thoroughly traumatized by my microsleep experience. Closing my eyes for 10 minutes is still truly unbearable... flashbacks, nightmares the fucking works.

The idea that I wouldn't take a drug like cbd or do activities to cause neurogensis to repair that damage takes me back to the night it started. The scariest part is thinking about what my future bring.. my only comfort is CBD and my research.

Fuck you Mike, writing all this out is making me want to cry and tbh I'm actually thinking about dropping out- my issue is he saw me concurrently with Kristen. He has made it known that he thinks I'm functioning better than I did before I had psychosis. He has made it known that he is impressed with my sleep tracker/diet tracker/calorie counting/medication management. He could be a major help in proving that I am mentally stable and beyond functional. I could remove his name from the report or leave and say I found another therapist and still leave his name on it.

I don't actually trust him that much but you can see why, it's cause I don't like him. I actually hate him. I believe he believes I'm more functional. I believe he believes I'm stable and not delusional. I do believe he thinks i wouldn't benefit from antipsychotics. He said you don't need them but hypothetically why wouldn't you take them in relationship to that conversation I listed below.

So idk what to do but I spent a hour writing all this at least and I'm almost in tears. I don't trust him fully, yet I know he will support me in this report. I know he won't say I'm delusional or lacking functionality. I know he will say the exact opposite. Yet I don't want to see him anymore. His records could be very helpful. I don't want to see him. Idk what to do. I got to stop writing. I've got out a lot of feelings I've been keeping inside.

Either way I don't feel properly supported and I don't fully trust him and I really think the way in which he chooses to, "challenge," me feels like more like a dick measuring contest and or he feels threatened by my intelligence or he wants me to leave by pissing me off or maybe its all 3.

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

10.6 23 Friday

12:20 am

I just feel bad coz my introduction with Coach Melai in the classroom of Minnesota then went to Montana weren't easy... She didn't spoon feed us and I had anxiety about it coz I graduated from De La Salle where everything is "spoon-feeding" coz we paid on a higher amount compared to other universities...

Coach Melai is a Coach Melai... I had a hard time on our "Employee Portal" we had trainings there the first 6 modules that you have to finish for one day actually coz we took it half a day per 3 modules...

1.OSH; 2. Understanding Occupational Safety and Health; 3. Knowing Safety Hazard and Control ( Good Housekeeping ); 4. HIRARC MODULE; 5. Workplace Emergency Preparedness; 6. Administrative OSH Requirements.

I read that thoroughly and I passed the exams coz it is the first major points of getting in. Then, I realized we have a long and winding road of many pages of C2 documents of t-mobile.

C2-means control and command. Basically on computers. ( unzipped by Coach Gian )

It gave me an anxiety but I have to do it for the money....But in the middle we do have "pride and dignity"...

More on t-mobile...

What is triple AAA?

On getting the credit card #, how to do it?

2:08 am

I still have windblow... My right leg is cramping... I need sex and I can't get a bf with sanity... I feel bitter, I want a bf who can help and assisit me on my health and on money matters for now...

They are kids there in Iqor... Better that I leave them angels...

I need to open my pelvic,angels... My pelvic or S-bones are aching angels...

Pregnant woman needs to have sex,still....For the opening of their muscles and to prepare on giving birth...

2:24 am

I wanna stab a person on the chest and stomach... I feel that way whenever I feel this pain....I can't get sex for 16 years! I'm human being... I have needs angels, I can't find the right person that has a full maturity and sanity and intellectual mind.

This is about SEX! I wanna kill angels... I see blood in my eyes,whenever my right leg is on cramps... My pelvic or S-bones are in pain,that is weird to explain.

I feel bitter!!! I feel grr... I wanna kill... I feel ugly,fat and wrinkled!!!

2:34 am

SEXUAL HUNGRY-- Feeling of sexual hunger is natural, and annoying.It is when you have strongly sexual desire most specially on someone or situation on having someone.

This causes distress and problems for your health, job, relationships or other parts of your life. (google )

They are plastics,they fucked each other there... They just gave me this frustration and feeling of ugly,fat,and wrinkled! The people in Iqor, including Miles / dread-locks guy. HOW CAN THAT SOMEONE BE INSENSITIVE?

But how can I check if they are clean or having std's?

Most specially the HIV... It is so fucking crazy to have this sexual hunger angels... Plus, my leg cramps and S-bones pain!

10:54 am

Done,watching "Jill Dando" the BBC Journalist and the Princess Diana of Journalist. She said to be a good journalist is to go people's under skin but she also said that I have no skeleton in my cupboard. Who killed Jill Dando???

I still have windblow and yeah! Hating the thought that I was just with some bunches of kids in Iqor.

I had a talked with bro. RODEL on something... Something private.

Will tell more about Ramil.... The kid guy!

12noon

I still have windblow... I feel bitter...

I wanna leave the hometown coz there is no good thing for me here... I lost my 16 years and I feel old,ugly and wrinkled just for nothing...

I feel irritated on Iqor for not treating me as their sister, they hide their bat nature on me....

Kid like Ramil is a weird kid... One time while going home with Mia and Lexa.... Ramil suddenly commented on me that Ate Peachy,mirror yourself on the black screen of cellphone. I was shocked and I said huh? Why, will I do that? And how can I see myself on a black screen on the cellphone? Then, Ramil said it is just a joke Ate Peachy. BUT I'M DOUBTING ON RAMIL, THERE IS A NEGATIVE MEANING...

1:39 pm

Watching Tagalog news about a student slapped by a teacher and suddenly died...

I said slapping is an aristocrat way of showing your anger but not a deadly slap! A slap with control... Slap on the cheek fats not even on the nose, not even on ears and eyes.

1:47 pm

1:59 pm

2:10 pm

2:13 pm

2:36 pm

2:47 pm

I feel so frustrated and bitter... It is more than a decade of 34 and 35? It is totally unfair.

I feel bitter angels... I lost the battle again and again... I wanna leave the hometown... If it is me ,it is me... If it's not me then leave me alone... I feel bitter...

3:15 pm

I still have windblow... I just need angels to back me up... I'm confuse... I feel bitter for 16 years! I'm always defeated for 16 years!

3:49 pm

I wanna do my make-over and go somewhere far from here angels...

I feel like getting a boobs and my botox... I feel confuse... I always lost my battle...

I needs lots of money... I feel bitter... My emotion is up and down...

4:07 pm

I feel bad someone is pulling me down... I can sense it... A person I met 16 years ago, he wanted to prove that he is better than me... I can feel his presence.

My ego is dropped by Miles/ dread-locks guy, I feel madness within me. HE KISSED ME AND THAT'S IT!!! HE DID IT... Hi did kiss me angels, almost his tongue inside my mouth and he pushed me down this way!!!

Thinking of money, still but calming my inner-self...

My voice is not yet returning to its original tone...

16 years I'm always defeated... Someone is pulling me down...

7:31 pm

Finally, I paid my Tala creditz from my MAYA!

Have no money now, angels...I need to work but I need some rest, few weeks more...

8:40 pm

Doc Ibias said that I should work... Another med cert.

I have no money now angels... I need money...

8:50 pm

Probably Miles/ dread-locks got a streptococcus on his mouth... I feel bitter but I have to work,angels...

I sent this to Coach Melai these new med cert. I need a back-up again angels...

10:13 pm

My leche flan... Will try to do on air fryer, I hope it is ohkay like the steaming system.

Muscovado is the best sugar for doing leche flan.

Other is on steam system.

11:29 pm

Here is the thing... Someone took my recipe's book... I'm thinking now if there is evaporated milk? But on youtube a lot these days they both have evaporated and condensed milk.

Since, I put evaporated milk today, I wonder if it will be a solid or a jelly kind or cake kind when it is cooked...

I mixed the entire can of alaska evaporated and condensed the small size... Hmm... WHAT WILL HAPPEN?

To be continued...

#Youtube

[cheats-cs-go-wallhack-kd]

Most useful SV_CHEATS 1 Commands - CS:GO Guide

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[sweetwateriver]

oh owners of classicmarvelforever.com, a 20 year old classic-web-style site dedicated to Marvel Super Heroes RPG with all the pdfs, dozens & DOZENS of pages of comprehensive lore, AND SOMEHOW A CURRENTLY ACTIVE FORUM, i'd follow u anywhere 🥺🥺🥺

#the game itself looks so complicated i cant imagine actually playing it #but THE DEDICATION!!!!! THE MAINTAINING THE OLD SCHOOL WEB DESIGN!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺 #personal #officer cackowski voice: if this was comiccon id take a bullet for that kid #BRO THEY HAVE SO MANY MODULES.

[kyun-toast]

[ATEEZ] as University Students

a/n: I love college AUs but I'm British so I thought I'd chip in w some painfully British uni lad ateez

Hongjoong

Besties w his tutor

Got his life down on lock

One of those ppl that are always on top of their work, have acc done the reading and gets good grades but is still rlly cool and has a social life ygm

But thats only bc he lives in the library

Has a designated seat and there's an unspoken rule amongst the students that that's HIS spot, nobody sits in it

Often seen napping at said library spot

So well dressed. He’s one of those students that always catches your eye around campus or lecture halls

Bc he’s just so well dressed for a uni student running on 0 hours sleep and red bull

Probs studies smth like joint honours music and philosophy

Also Vice President of smth like filmsoc

Friends with the baristas at Starbucks bc he’s just in there for caffeine all the time

We all aspire to be like student hj, just more sleep pls

Seonghwa

Voted most eligible bachelor amongst students

Famous around campus just for being so pretty

He’s one of those ppl you see on like the first day of uni and it’s an instant crush

But you’ll never be able to do anything abt it you just have to admire from the other side of the lecture hall

Actually speaks up in seminars bc he’s done the reading sat next to hongjoong in the library

He looks like he’d play tennis for uni and varsity tickets would sell like crazy bc so many ppl have crushes on that man

He’d bring his lil meal prep packed lunches to uni lol what a little sweetheart

Been pictured in the uni prospectus at least once

Hongjoong makes him go w him to freshers fair for his society to use as bait so he stands there handing out leaflets for a soc he’s not even part of

Yunho

Doesn’t know what’s going on half the time he’s just happy to be there

This is v evident in lectures. Professor could be going on and on in a stats class and he’ll just sit there smiling

His gaming setup takes up most of his room and is also where most of his money goes

Texts u at 4am like hey u wanna get pizza

And you know he’s up at that time bc he’s been gaming all night

Still gets good grades despite the fact that all he does is game?

You ask him how he does it and he’s just like idk?

You are perplexed.

All soft in cute jumpers and hoodies but one day you’ll see him suited up at a formal and wow heart eyes

Super fun at parties too, have u seen that man dance?

You have multiple videos of him twerking

Yeosang

That mysterious boy at the back of class that doesn’t speak a lot but whenever he does its always smth smart af

Types really loud on his macbook

Looks like he doesn’t have any friends

But outside of lectures he’s always w friends that look equally as mysterious and cool

No one on your course knows anything abt him

But you see him at a house party once and he’s just stuffing his face w food having a great time

Feel like his alcohol tolerance is super low

Two shots and he’s out cold

And then you’ll see him again at some niche soc social like basket weaving or smth

Works part time at a cool clothing store like allsaints or cos

Chicken shop connoisseur, knows the best places in town

San

Actually studies rlly hard, i can tell he always gives 110% on whatever he’s set his mind to

Soft student always in oversized hoodies, spinning pens, v enthusiastic and pays attention in lectures

But when hes w wooyoung oh man

The enabler, 110% attitude towards drinking too

Pours drinks w 80% alc 20% mixer

“my mother didn’t raise a quitter”

Type to sprint home from the club bc he doesnt wanna waste money on uber

Will make animal friends otw and bring them home

You wake up and come downstairs the next morning and theres just a pigeon in your living room

On the athletics team which is why he may find it instinctive to run home when he’s drunk

San would like for there to be a greggs on campus

Mingi

ALWAYS napping in lectures, seminars, during lunch, in the library, u name it

Knows the best spots for it tho.

You didn’t know there was a secluded spot w bean bags under the stairs at the back of the library until mingi told you

Never missed 9am lectures but will nap through them instead

Gets freshers flu every year and the cough lasts for months

You hear someone cough in the room over and ur like oh, well there’s Mingi

Gives you the best advice at 4am in the library

Also best cuddles

Studies smth like aerospace engineering but regrets it bc he didn’t know what he was getting himself into

Considers dropping out every exam season but always pulls through w good grades?

Wooyoung

Bnoc thats all i have to say

Has like 4k followers on ig

Always running around campus for no reason

Woo and san together at parties u know its going to be buck fckin wild

Always got ppl swooning over him but he just wants to have fun!

No time for relationships! Only alcohol!

When he studies tho? £3 meal deal and writes 2 sentences kind of guy

Business management OR marketing student I can feel it in my bones

The type to tell u funny stories in a silent library and it takes everything in u to stop laughing

Ppl will look over at you two and youre just holding your breaths on the verge of exploding

Security will kick u out at one point

Tight w the local kebab shop bossman

Jongho

Brings everything in a backpack to uni like a year 7

Need a hole punch? Ask jongho. Painkillers? Jongho. Assortment of multi coloured pens? Jongho

Writes the best notes

They're all colour coordinated in different folders for different modules

All the office ladies dote on him bc he’s so sweet

They all offer him tea and biscuits

Youngest but is the voice of reason in the group

Wy will be like do u wanna get drunk in the library

And jongho is like bro ur deadline is tomorrow are u ok

The type to be filming all the other guys when theyre up to some questionable stuff for the memories

Feel like he’d be on committee for whatever course he’s studying

I get pharmacy vibes from this boy

Got job offers lined up for when he graduates

#i’m not sure why there are random spaces between the bullets someone help me pls #ateez #ateez headcanons #ateez college au #college!ateez #ateez university #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez fluff #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez fanfiction #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeonsang #ateez san #ateez mingi #ateez wooyoung #ateez jongho #ateez oneshot #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #san #mingi #wooyoung #jongho

[beskarberry]

Garden of Ishtar

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 9

(The Mandalorian x f!reader) (+18)

"The Universe has a strange way of granting wishes"

<-Previous Next->

Rating: holy shit Explicit

Word count: 15.8k

Content warnings: SEX POLLEN + BREEDING KINK + PREGNANCY KINK with an extra kinky twist! (Dubcon/use of mind altering substances by non-sentient creature/ovipos) Side kinks: dom/alpha, praise, begging, denial, overstim, bonus somnophila. Obvious favorites of p in v, finger blasting, oral f receiving, multiple orgasms and then some. Big gooey heaps of fluff to make up for all the filth. I tried.

A/N: Weird shit happens in space, and this chapter is no exception. This is the most kinks I've crammed into one chapter, almost zero story progression whatsoever, it's just smutty smut the whole way though. Good luck and may the force be with you because you're gonna need it.

“Well, which one do you want?”

“You pick.”

“Fuck no, I picked the last one, you can pick the next.”

It was a bright, lovely, sunshiny day on the forest moon of Endor, the fine weather a stark contrast from how it had been when you had landed. You had opened the access ramps on the Crest to get some fresh air circulating while you made preparations to head towards your next target, but you had to pick a target first.

On a supply crate that you had pushed into the middle of the cabin like a dining room table sat three little pucks, their bounties still as mysterious as they had been when you had wantonly pulled them off of Karga’s countertop. As far as you were concerned it was Din’s turn to pick, and though death was just an occupational hazard in your line of work, there had been too many brushes with the reaper during your last hunt for you to be comfortable picking again.

Leaning against the wide open doorframe you took a deep breath of the fresh, rain-scrubbed air, letting it fill your lungs and clear your head. It was a little humid, though it might have been the nicest day you had seen in a long time. Outside on the dampish grass the foundling was chasing some kind of pretty insect, hopping about trying to catch the elusive critter. It was good for him to get a chance to stretch his legs, no matter how short they were, and you giggled at his antics when he tripped and fell. He squealed and rolled through the grass before he was bounding after another fluttering creature. Without the violent storms the mini-moon was peaceful, serene almost, and in another lifetime maybe you would have settled down here; though you couldn’t imagine being anything besides a hunter. I wonder if that will ever change.

“Really, cyare, you pick.” Sitting across from you, Din was cleaning the last bit of mud from his armor, the thick muck having long dried into a chunky, flaky mess. Everything but the plate he had in his hands now shimmered like spilled mercury over his chest and shoulders, catching the dappled sunbeams that filtered in through the open doors. Your argument over who got to pick the next puck had ground to a stand still, and you were getting frustrated, but not frustrated enough that you would yield.

“It’s not my turn, it’s your turn.” He just shook his head, diligently scrubbing the dirt from the details of the mudhorn on his pauldron without realizing the irony of his efforts. He set the cleaned metal to his shoulder, the clack of its fasteners echoing faintly in the open hold. The Mandalorian sat up straight, leaning his helmeted head against the hull wall and patting his knees, expectantly waiting for you to make your choice. Something about his armored appearance gave you a stupid idea, and you sauntered up to him with a cocky grin. “I’ll fight’cha for it.”

“You’ll what?” The black gloss of his visor tilted sharply, as though you had just grown a second head.

“Fight me! Loser has to pick the puck.” You kicked the tips of his boots and brought your fists up, playfully making soft, slow jabs towards him. He huffed, like he wasn’t used to you having bright ideas by now.

“I’m not going to fight you, cyar’ika, just pick a damn puck already.”

“Them's fightin’ words.” Your knuckles went pap pap pap in quick succession against the hexagonal indent on his chest. “What’re’ya afraid you’re gonna lose?”

He lazily swatted at you, barely even trying to block your attack. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ha! As if!” You whipped your head forward, sending the beskar you wore on your crown sliding down over your eyes, letting the quicksilver flash of its curved surfaces tell him you meant business. Your jabs got a little meaner, though if you hit him too much harder his own beskar would probably break your fingers. Between his metal plates were a few soft spots, and you honed in on them with sneaky digits. Din jerked visibly when you got the one right under his chest piece, and a swift arm came up and caught your next offence. “Ohoho, so you are awake, I was beginning to think you had fallen asleep on me.”

“I’m not going to hit you.” His words came through his modulator like gravel, irritated that you would even think he would lay a hand on you. Shrugging, you knocked him right in the forehead with the heel of your palm, making his helmet clonk against the durasteel. The next jab you threw was caught and thrown back to you, him tossing your fist away. You went for him again, but when he grabbed both your fists you were pushed back with the force of him rising from his seat. He marched you backwards and shoved you away, then brought his vambraces up in a defensive block, ready for the next attack.

You took one last glance at the foundling, who was sitting sweetly in the grassy meadow, absently trying to catch motes of pollen that were floating by, before launching into your assault. Your fists stung at him with reckless abandon, not enough to actually hurt either of you, though he probably wouldn’t have felt it anyway under his pile of armor. Mando blocked everything you hurled at him, making good on his promise not to hit you, but that was taking all the fun out of it. “Come on, rust bucket, stand up for yourself!” He took everything you gave, deflecting every thrown fist and slowly inching his way closer to you until you were taking steps back to open up your jabs.

“You really want me to fight you? Fine.” He barked, whacking your next punch away. You jumped back to dodge a rapid slew of hook shots, cackling like a lunatic that you had gotten your wish granted.

“Yes! Come on, big boy, fight me! Let’s go! I’m gonna kick your- ass!” Din lunged at you, tackling you like a linebacker and throwing you against the wall. Cornered, you snapped your head forward and rang his bell, disorienting him enough that you could drop out of his grasp and dash out between his legs. He turned on you in an instant, and you made ‘come at me bro’ hands at him before he was on you again. He swiped with a left hook, chuffing you lightly on the shoulder while you socked him back; though you weren’t nearly as gentle, stinging your knuckles on his unyielding iron.

A bandoliered boot went for your shins, and you stomped back at it, kicking sideways at the plates of his thighs. You hopped, switched legs, and spun a roundhouse straight into the side of his gut. On anyone else it would have been a crippling blow, but your Mandalorian grabbed your lifted ankle and hauled you to him, using your own weight against you to palm your sternum and flip you on your back. The wind was knocked from your lungs when you hit the floor, but not enough that you didn’t get a knee up as he tried to pin you under him, and you kicked up into his gut and flipped him over your head; the sound of his armor hitting the ground ringing loud and ugly.

You kicked up and tossed yourself backwards in the same spring, putting you over top of his breastplate. Throwing your knees back you locked his arms under your ankles, straddling his chest so you could hold his helmet down. “That all you got?”

“You wish!” Din squirmed and kneed you in the ass, tossing you off of him. You rolled away and scrambled to your feet, narrowly avoiding another flying tackle. The cabin of the Crest wasn’t giving you much space to work with, and you hauled ass down down the ramp before he could catch you again. “Oh now you want me to chase you, ner riduur?” He hollered, swinging his arms wide in a challenging stance.

You turned and wiggled your ass at him, slapping yourself tauntingly before the sound of armored thunder had you running for cover. You ran past the foundling on the ground, braking quickly next to him to pat his head before his father was upon you, and you missed being snatched by the skin of your teeth.

Hopping back a few paces you put up your dukes, and this time the beskar took the bait. The Mandalorian threw punches left and right, more forceful than he had started with but not enough to actually hurt. You took a few blows to your forearms and shoulders before lashing out with a wild throw. The sound of fists on metal echoed against the tree trunks that surrounded the sunny meadow while you took on the mighty warrior, though armor was kicking your ass for him, and you nearly dashed yourself to pieces on the plate of his chest.

“Had enough yet?”

You roared in response and threw your whole body at him, making quick jabs at the meat of his sides where his armor was thinnest. He keeled sideways, dropped himself into a crouch, and lunged, tackling you to the ground. Damn it! Time to fight dirty! You pulled an arm free of his grasp and grabbed his cloak, throwing it over his helmet and wrapping it up tight, temporarily blinding him. He sat up to try and unravel the fabric from his face, and in that split second you grabbed the backs of his knees and yanked, flopping him back down onto his back. The pinner had become the pin-ee, and you squashed yourself up between his legs and thrust into his groin, making him keen in surprise.

“You’re mine, bantha-butt!” Tangled in the cloak he squirmed under you until he was free of your trap, giving you a confused head tilt at your position. You hooked your arms under his knees and ground yourself up against his ass, making him grunt underneath you before he wrapped his legs around your middle and rolled, throwing you down onto the ground. Both of you grappled for dominance, rolling and tossing each other through the soft, dampish grass until you were on top of him again, straddling his waist.

“That’s better.” He hummed, grabbing your wrists and pulling you down to him where he could wrap his arms around your writhing form. “You’re mine, you little womp rat.”

“Nuh uh! You’re under me, that means I win, chumbucket.” You threw your weight around, trying to coax one more good roll out of the two of you, but he had you in his clutches. A dark, lecherous laugh reverberated in your ear, and you felt him rut up against your crotch to demand your complacency. Between your legs the faintest outline of his shaft slotted against you, fitting so well against the cradle of your body that it really might have been made just for you; but you grabbed his shoulders and pushed him harder into the grass. “Not in front of the foundling, you big horndog.”

“Says the one riding me.” A soft, leather-clad hand left your captured shoulders to slide your mask up and brush the grass from your hair, gently tucking a stray lock behind your ear; and you pressed your face into his palm as it passed back down. The rumble in his chest went right through your legs up your spine until your cheeks blushed under his thumbs. “Mesh’la…”

Something twitched under you, and as much as you would like to indulge him, sass came to you more naturally. “Is this why you didn’t wanna fight me?” You rolled your hips over his, giving him a tantalizing tease. “Gets you all fired up?”

His helmet rolled, trying to avoid your skull-boring gaze. “Maybe…”

“Well maybe when we get into hyperspace we can do something about that, but not until that one has gone to bed.”

Ahead of you the foundling was laying back in the grass, watching his adopted parents with big googly eyes. Din followed your gaze, and the two of you made stupid little waves at your child. Beans waved back and stood up, teetering over to the pair of you on his little stubby legs. You laid against the breadth of your mate’s chest and reached for the goofy green baby, who happily ran into your arms.

“Heya, Goob! What’cha up to, huh? Catchin’ bugs?” You sat up and leaned back, ignoring the heavy hands that laid on your thighs while you chatted with the foundling. The baby gibbered and told you all about his fun in the sun, but under you the slow gyration of hips was starting to get distracting. “Beans, tell your dad to stop being naughty.”

“Me? You started this.”

“Bah! I don’t start things, I only finish them.” Under you your beskar burdened buddy sighed and let his head fall back into the grass, shaking it back and forth at your foolishness. You hefted the foundling up in the air, making him squeal in delight, and the sweet sounds of his laughter gave you a better idea. “You know what? I bet he would like to pick a puck!”

“Thank the fucking stars, does that mean we can get going?”

“Yeah yeah fussbucket come on. You’re so damn impatient!” You made one last amorous swirl of your hips before leaping up from your man, running with the baby high above your head as you dashed circles around the ship. It was good for both of you to spend time together that wasn’t just on the trail, and you treasured the few moments of comfort you got to have as a pack between hunts. You ran a few more laps before flying up the ramp to where Mando had already beaten you there, and you plopped the baby down on the makeshift table where the pucks had miraculously survived your wrassling. “Ok buddy boy, can you pick a puckie for me?”

The baby tossed his arms in the air and squeaked like he would rather go for another round of flight simulator, but you plopped down on the ground in front of him and pointed at the pucks again. He tilted his head, making his airplane ears flop akimbo. The foundling looked down at the pucks, back up to you, and then -slapped- the one in the middle as hard as he could. The pucks projector fired up and glowed ghostly blue in front of the child’s wondrous eyes, and he tried to grab at the thing showing in its center.

The holo must be malfunctioning, maybe the baby hit it too hard, but the picture wasn’t of a face, or even a person for that matter; it was something round, egg shaped almost. Beside you, your Mandalorian was making the same confused head tilts that you were, and he tapped a leather finger to the puck’s button, turning it off and on again, but the same image remained. “That can’t be right, have you ever seen one like this?”

You shook your head, puzzled by the purplish object that floated before you. Maybe it was some kind of stone or seed, or even an egg like its shape suggested. The pucknotes had a counter next to the ovoid, indicating that more credits would be rewarded for the quantity of items procured. Besides a description of the item and the indicator, the puck notes had one last useful tidbit of information, the last known location:

Hoth.

“Wait, Hoth? There’s nothing on Hoth! You sure this thing’s not fucked up?” Din shrugged, making his plates clack before he got up and started getting the ship around, closing ramps and scooting crates back into place. “Shit balls of hell, alright! Fucking Hoth it is.” You’d been to Hoth maybe all of two times chasing down the stupidest, most idiotic bounties, and not once had you seen anything of value there. “Of course it has to be somewhere cold, we already did cold. One of those fucking pucks better go to a goddamn beach or something or I’m gonna lose my mind.”

“You sure you haven’t already? I mean,” Din stopped rearranging the furniture to swagger up to you, catching your hand in his own. “You did try to fight with a Mandalorian.”

“Bah! And I’d do it again, too, you’re not that intimidating.” Playfully you tried to take your hand back, but he was a professional bounty hunter, and he didn’t let his captures get away so easily. Thick, leatherbound fingers laced themselves between your own, and your other arm was taken hostage and brought to his shoulder so he could rest a heavy palm on your hip unhindered. You let your hand wander up his pauldron to the edge of his helmet, sneaking a finger between the metal and the man to toy with his curls. The hand on your waist pulled you closer, and he gently pressed his helmet to your brow.

“Riduur’ika,” He purred, making the cool beskar rumble against your skin. “You don’t think I’m… intimidating!?” The arm against your waist hugged you tight while the other twirled you around in a circle, and you made some kind of undignified squeak as you were dipped low. Parallel to the ship's floor, you clawed at his cowl as if he would drop you, though his grip was stronger than beskar. You caught the reflection of your own wild eyes as his visor tilted to meet your gaze. “How about now?”

Safe in his arms, you snorted a laugh and stuffed your hands under his helmet to pick the latches free and toss the heavy thing off, ignoring the sound of it rolling away from you while you kissed your husband. The Mandalorian’s warm, soft lips against your own muffled the few stray giggles that tried to escape your mouth, tickled by not only his romance but also his mustache. Those dark chocolate eyes of his met your own, and the edges of his cheeks rolled right up into them with a dazzling smile. Maker help you.

“Din! Where the hell did you pick that up from?” A warm laugh reverberated against you before he was pushing his lips to yours in another fiery kiss.

“Saw it in a holovid once, some kind of… courtship ritual, I think. I’ve, uh, always wanted to t-try it…” His wavering baritone trailed off with a hint of embarrassment, and you couldn’t help but snicker.

“‘Courtship ritual’, huh? Golly gee willikers, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”

His cheeks flushed pink, “Is it working?”

“Mmm… no.”

The gorgeous smile on his scruffy face was replaced with a scowl a mile wide, but you laughed and kissed at it anyway. You heard him inhale sharply when you started to push your tongue past his lips, and he met yours with his own. Without parting, he slowly stood the pair of you back up, and you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders to pull him even closer.

Free from the muck of the forest floor that had clung to his armor, or the stygian waters of the river soaking his cloak, the familiar scent of him had returned. Rich and smokey, sweat and leather and blast plasma and the faintest remnants of the fresher soap you adored. The spice of him saturated your lungs and drenched your heart with the promise of his eternal company, giving you that delightfully warm and gooey feeling that he alone could give.

You pulled your lips from his and kissed at his cheeks and the tip of his angular nose before grabbing the sides of his head and bringing his brow back to yours. He almost fought you over it, torn between wanting his lips against your skin and the joy of you indulging in his sacred inheritance. Either way, the stubborn little ‘patu’ that peeped up from the floor had you both pulling away to bring the foundling into your arms, you were a clan of three, after all.

It would take a few jumps to make it to your next destination, and if she could speak, the Razor Crest would tell you how glad she was for your company as she carried you through the stars. There had been a time in the old ship’s life where she had only known silence, save for the screams of captured bounties, her hull had been nearly barren with only her captain for comfort. But then the foundling had come into her Mandalorian’s life, and the sweet sounds of a child’s laughter warmed her steel heart, amplified tenfold by the starsongs you brought with you when you had arrived as well.

Like a serenade written to the stars themselves the three of you flowed through her ironsides, a triple-part harmony that reverberated from the top of her transparisteel dome to the depths of her cantankerous stardrive. The chimes of the navigation panel had gone unheard while the streaking stars spiralled around the old dropper, her passengers fully engrossed with each other's company. There was so much laughter now, between stories told and songs sang high, the starcraft’s walls nearly rang with mirth.

The jokes you would tell, as terrible as they often were, made the Crest’s captain smile so often now; his scruffy cheeks going right up into his eyes whenever he flashed those pearly whites. He was so sweet, so gentle when the beskar was lifted from him, as if a new man was made every time the armor fell away. The oath of riddurok had given him such a gift, the gift of touch, and he relished in it at every turn; pressing kisses to the faces of the two he loved most.

And when it was time to rest, hidden away in the little sleeping alcove the three of you laid, wrapped more tightly together than any captured quarry. Below the howl of the hyperdrive engine, so faint it was almost like a secret, would come the sound of your starsongs. For your boys alone would you let yourself remember the rhymes of timelost sailors, sang low and slow to ease them to sleep. The foundling usually blacked right out on the first verses, but your unarmored husband would grapple with the pull of sleep for as long as he could, just to hear your voice.

When you dropped out of hyperspace the uncaring iceball called Hoth dominated your view, nearly blinding you with its glaring white surface. Your captain flew the Crest over the snowy expanse, looking for any sign of life or even a point of interest, but the ice fields seemed to stretch on forever between snow covered steppes. You had to pull your visor down just to be able to look out the window, and you attempted to cycle its settings as if that would do you any good, but everything came back as solid colors as far as the eye could see.

“This is bullshit, there’s nothing down there.” In your palm the bounty puck glowed faintly, making a liar out of you; but you ignored it to watch a herd of large, bipedal herbivores making their way along a mountainous ridge. The Crest put the animals in the rear view quicker than you would have liked, and you leaned against the transparisteel with a huff. In your lap the foundling was watching joyfully out the window, seemingly undeterred by the blinding snow. You started trying to get the baby rearranged when you saw the fob flash erratically before going back to lazy blinks. “Din wait! I think we passed it!”

“Passed what? I don’t see anything.” Below you the vast expanse was flat as a fresh pressed sheet, only dotted here and there with specks of icy blue.

“Circle around!” You tucked the foundling under your arm and unbuckled yourself from your seat to squish into the narrow space between Din’s armrest and the dashboard so he could see the fob for himself. He slowed the mighty metal bird down as slow as she would go and flew her in a wide circle back towards the way you’d come in.

Flash… flash… flash flash flASHFLAsh flash… flash…

“You see that? There gotta be something down there, maybe it’s under the snow. Take us down, captain!” In the corner of your eye you caught the slightest jostle of his helmet, though it could have just as easily been the rocking of the ship that made his head move, but you knew better. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, captain.” The poorly veiled cheekiness in his voice was met with a loving suckerpunch against the side of his pauldron. You’d completely failed to learn your lesson about the bite of beskar, and you hissed at the iron’s sting on your knuckles. The Crest floated down gently, her engines kicking up flurries of crisp white snow over the broad expanse. The moment the landing struts had locked into place your armored companion was grabbing for your wrist. “That’s why you shouldn’t try to fight me, mesh’la.”

“Bite me.”

A soft thumbpad brushed gently against your reddening knuckles, making you wince just slightly. The black gloss of his single eye slowly coasted up to meet your own, then cocked sideways. “Looks like I already did.” With his other hand he lifted the edge of his helmet just enough to press the softest kiss to the back of your hand, and though his sweetness made your heart thunder against its cage, the wry upturn of his lips almost made you want to punch him again.

Under your arm the foundling squirmed and cooed, and you brushed your captured hand along the edge of your husband’s bristly jaw before pulling the child around to your chest so you could both look out the window. The alabaster plains stretched out in all directions like the Dune Sea of Tatooine, nothing for miles.

“Din I think this fob is busted, and probably the puck too, there’s fuckall out-”

*-crik- c-c-crrrack craack!-*

Something snap-crackle-popped outside the ship, like the sound of suspension cables breaking. High pitched creaks between deep, almost gutterel booms. Ice.

“Cyare… don’t… move.” The armored monolith was frozen solid, more frozen than the ice underneath you apparently. Not even the sound of his modulated breathing could be heard in the stillness of the flightdeck.

*...cricckckcick..creeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak……cruUNCH!-*

The ship lurched, a vicious gash splitting the ice below you. You lurched with it, your heart leaping to your throat as your arms squished the baby tight. A gloved hand shot from the steering controls to steady you.

*-k-k-reaaaak thuddduddudud… crRONCH!-*

“Oh fuck.”

*….CrAcK-!*

The Crest tilted nose-first into the growing abyss, and your oathsworn had only a split second to haul you and the foundling into his seat before the old girl was hurtling through the breach.

For a moment you were in free fall, a canyon of aquamarine flying past the window, darkening with every passing second. It felt like slow motion, your legs becoming weightless while the rest of you was anchored to the pilots seat.

*-ka-RuNcH!-*

Rigid muscle and beskar enveloped you as the Razor hit the ground, metal crunching and screeching with the impact. Your deathgrip on the foundling was only matched by the armored grasp around you, keeping the two of you locked safely to Din’s chest. Bulbs flickered and wires sparked in the waning light of the flight deck, though your eyes were so tightly screwed shut you didn’t notice. You took a cautious breath, only now aware that you had been holding it before wrenching an eye open. Beskar dominated your view, the heavy helmet of your husband pressed tightly to your face.

“Are you ok?” came a modulated whisper.

“Yeah, are you?” He nodded against you, and you peeled yourselves apart to inspect the foundling that was encased between your chests. Baby Beans chirruped and ogled at his fussing buir, the two of you knocking into each other while you both checked him for damage. When he’d passed both your inspections you glanced around the cockpit, though you guessed from the sound of the impact most of the damage would be down below.

You practically needed a crowbar to get Din’s arms off of you, his protector’s instinct running at full bore to guard his clan, but you managed to weasel out of his iron grasp. Frigid air gusted up through the ladder hole before you’d even crossed the short distance to the drophatch, making you shudder. Below, the force of the impact had torn the Razor’s walls asunder, breaking apart her riveted seams. Icy wind blew in through the gashes, freezing the mist that sprang from your eyes.

“Oh, my poor Lady…” You whispered, your heart aching from seeing your ship so wounded. Heavy boots made their way down the ladder behind you, and you turned to your oathsworn, “Can… can we fix this?”

“We can try, but you need something warmer.” Stoic as the day you met, Mando strode to the bent lockers and forced his way in, pulling out a heavy parka and draping it around your shoulders. The cold weather garb was entirely too big for you, but it snuggled around you like a warm hug, blocking out the frigid breeze. In your arms the foundling peeped out from the collar, just enough to watch his papa without getting too chilly.

Din was elbow deep in another wrecked cabinet, scrounging up whatever tools he could find to repair the damage. You joined him at the growing pile, holding onto the child with one arm and trying to pick a portable welder up with the other. Hands too full, you ducked into the oversized parka and worked to stuff the baby up under your shirt, cinching your belt under his butt so he wouldn’t fall out. There, stay warm you little fart.

It took a while for the two of you to make enough progress on the broken bird to get her closed up again, but many hands make the work lighter. Ship repair had been your very first duty when you went starborne, and your hands remembered how to bend durasteel to your will, though you would probably need to get to an actual mechanic if you were going to be star-worthy again.

Occasionally you caught the tilt of your Mandalorian’s visor when you fired up the welder or cranked a ratchet against a stubborn bolt, snapping away from you when you’d shoot him a sly wink. Once the cabin was passable, it was time to work on the exterior, but you swatted at Din’s occupied mitts, demanding that the two of you take a rest beforehand. His back cracked when he stood up straight, and though he wouldn’t admit it, a break was a good idea.

“Do you have a kettle or something I can make hot water in? I think I saw a canister of broth we can heat up.” Your repair work on the hull must have been pretty damn efficient, because the parka was beginning to get warm, and you started to shrug it off when you heard the rackety sound of something clattering to the floor.

“B-buir’ika?” Behind you, Din had dropped a heavy tool and was staring at you with that black hole gaze of his.

“Boo-ear-eeka? What does- oh!” You glanced down at yourself and laughed, your tunic protruding with a large, rounded tummy. “Chilly beans!” Bending forward, you pulled your collar down so your oathsworn could see the half-lidded eyes of the cozy foundling hidden below the swell of your breasts. “I didn’t want him to get cold.”

When you looked up from the babe’s sweet face, your armored husband had silently crossed the length of the hold and was nervously reaching towards you, his hands hovering over the lumpy shape in your middle. Gently he set his palms to where the child was bundled, slowly gliding over the taut fabric and making you flush crimson. Din did a double take on your cherry-red face and pulled away, muttering an apology and hastily returning to his duty as kettle-fetcher.

When you’d gotten the foundling out of your shirt and the thin soup heated, you sat down on your regular eating crate with your crew. The three of you took your break quietly since eating or drinking in your presence still made Din a little embarrassed, but between his timidness and the awkward term of endearment the tension in the cabin was so thick you could cut it with a vibro. He usually pressed his back to yours, but now he was hunched over his bowl of broth, sipping silently.

When your cup was empty you got up from your seat, pressed a kiss to each of your boy’s heads, and got your tools around to work on the outside of the Crest. You were garbed and out the exit before Din could protest, though you wouldn’t have listened anyway if he did. Once the ramp closed behind you, you took a deep breath of the glacial air, letting it clear your head. Shore leave was a luxury you rarely got to indulge in during your early years, and your love of having your boots on the ground only got stronger as the years went by.

The basin you had crashed into sprawled beneath the ice sheet high above your head, supported by enormous pillars of frozen water. This had probably been a lake once, or even a small sea, but when the water drained it left behind the frozen aquifer you now found yourself stuck in. High above you the light from where you had fallen through the ice cast frosty sunbeams through the falling snow, faintly illuminating the mythical columns in cobalt and turquoise hues.

Your boots crunched through the ancient permafrost as you made your rounds, taking a mental checklist of the Razor’s damage. Her keel had taken the brunt of the impact, but one of her wingtips was pretty busted up, a twisted panel sending sparks into the cerulean cathedral that would probably take two people to fix.

Out of curiosity you pulled the blinker from somewhere in your parka, relieved to see that it was indeed flashing. If you had thrown your crew to the depths of Niflheim on a busted fob you might never forgive yourself. You wondered what the acoustics would be like in the icy cavern, but the threat of bringing the fragile ice sheet down around your ears kept you quiet. Holding the fob up, you made a wide circle around the ship, trying to pinpoint which way the blinks were fastest. This way… You cast a quick glance over your shoulder at the Crest with her ramps still closed, and started towards your quarry.

~

In the ship's durasteel depths, Din sighed and groaned, unsure how to feel. He hated not being next to you, but he respected you enough to know you might need some space after… that. He tried to distract himself by wiping off the foundling’s mush-mouth with the edge of his cloak, but that almost made things worse. Our foundling.

Everything about The Way encouraged the safety and procreation of younglings, and not only as a riduur but also an Alor he should be fathering many children with you to recover Mandalore’s losses. But you had said you weren’t ready, and he honored your wishes, but even so, his heart ached with the desire to see you filled with his warriors.

He knew he shouldn’t, but that was suddenly all he could imagine, you round and glowing and full…

“Damn it.” He could feel his face flush red, and the honeyglow seeped through his bones all the way down to his guts, forcing him to pull his helmet back on just to regain his composure. When the visor was back over his eyes, he glanced down at the foundling, who was making some kind of face up at him. “This is your fault.”

“Patu!”

~

The Crest was a good distance behind you now, the edges of her wings partially obscured by the ice, but not quite out of eyeshot. The air was stagnant so far below the surface, the cold of it sitting heavy in your lungs and freezing inside your nose. Aside from the towers of frost and fallen snow, the cavern was empty. Enormous, but empty. This fucking fob, there’s nothing here. You were half tempted to chuck the hunk of garbage away or stomp it out, take the loss just to get the fuck out of here, when you felt a subtle breeze waft over you.

You were too far from the breach for it to be coming from above you, and you held perfectly still, trying to determine its source. Too faint, you bent down and scooped up a handful of snow, chucking it high above you and watching the way it fell. That way! Suddenly excited to play Arctic Explorer, you hustled to find the source of the breeze.

Twice more you used the snow as a compass until you were at a colossal glacier, the size of it easily big enough to swallow a large starship. A splotch of dark blue stood out against the ivory, and as you got closer you saw it was a fissure in the ice, a tunnel of some kind. Maybe this is where the water went. The air coming out of it was making your parka flap around you while you held up the fob: flashflashflash. Whatever it is you were tracking had to be down there, and you brushed ice crystals off of your faceplate to flip through your extrasensory settings until thermal flickered to life.

Warm. The air coming out of the tunnel was warm, though only by a few degrees more; not enough to thaw your bones, but enough to register on your visor. You stepped forward, tucking your head into the tunnel. Dark as the depths of an ocean and just as blue, the frozen tube stretched away, darker and darker until it turned to void. Stepping just inside the entrance, you flailed when your boots nearly lost traction.

This is dangerous, I don’t know what’s in there. A gust of air blasted around you as if to warn you away. Could be anything, maybe I should wait for- Ah FUCK!

The thought was knocked from your skull when your boots slipped out from under you and you slid ass over teakettle down the icy channel, vanishing into the dark.

~

The inside of the Crest was immaculate, more ship-shape that she had been in a long time. Din had to keep busy, after the repairs were given another once-over and you still hadn’t returned he had started reshelving all the tools and cookware, and only when the last thing left to do was mop did he give up his endeavors. Where the hell is she? He was getting anxious, more so than he usually was. His hands fidgeted with the strap that crossed his chest, thumbing at each of the slugs in line. She should be back by now.

What if she’s hurt? His hands froze on the leather, his breath catching in his chest. He knew you were capable, but what if something got you, or you fell or… or…

“Kid, let’s go.” The ‘what ifs’ that drained out of his thoughts and down his throat turned to bile in the pit of his stomach, and he had to do something about it. She can be as mad at me as she wants, I don’t care, I just need to know she’s safe. Quickly he grabbed a few supplies, loading up his rucksack with rehearsed precision: bacta, shovel, thermos, jet pack, munitions, rations. The foundling gibbered while his papa wrapped him up in a heavy blanket before setting him in his pram. I’m coming, cyare!

~

The slip-and-slide you had gotten yourself into wooshed past your ears, and you could only curl in a ball to protect yourself as you hurtled through the chasm of ice. The violet hue coming through your visor slowly turned to warmer tones as the temperature steadily increased. You struggled to grab a vibro off of your belt as you spun through the dark, but the singing dagger only scraped against the solid ice, the permafrost so old and strong that not even steel could cut it.

Under you the angle changed sharply, tossing you on your ass over another slope before you were falling through the air. You tucked and rolled when you hit the ground, desperately trying not to get your neck broken. Skittering to a halt, you cautiously let yourself uncurl, but what your eyes saw made you think you had landed on your head.

“Woah.”

~

The top of the Crest was still damaged, though Mando knew you had left with the intent to do repairs. Not up there. Your footprints circled around the old ship in a few loops before heading off into the cavern. Fuck, where did she go? The prints from your shoes still glowed faintly with residual heat on his visor, and he checked on the foundling’s comfort one more time before following your trail.

~

The Universe has a strange way of granting wishes.

Crystalline gravel crunched underfoot as you approached the beach you had landed in front of. Mineral-rich water bubbled and boiled in front of you with volcanic heat, steaming up the chamber you now found yourself in. The thick, viscous ooze was so leden with salts that its edges were caked with jagged deposits that lapped against the sides of tall, crested structures that almost resembled a reef. The subterranean coral ranged in size and height from just below your knees to easily three times your height, almost brushing the stalactites that hung from the vaulted ceiling.

You wished you had a holo-corder or data cube handy, because there was no way anybody had been here before, though maybe for good reason. The colors on your visor ranged from bright yellow to teal to hot motherfuckin’ pink, and you lifted your faceplate up to wipe at the sweat that was beading on your brow. The vibrancy of the reef without your sensors was even more garish in person, caught in the radiant light that seemed to drip from the ceiling on the tails of glow worms.

The ground under your boots sounded like glass breaking as you wandered through the cavern, spellbound by the sprawling grove. It took a herculean effort to bring your gaze down to the fob in your hand: FLASHFLASHFLASH! You held the tracker high, doing a little spin to try and locate the target, letting your feet walk on their own. Maybe the coral is the target? Stopping at a particular orange staghorn, you held the fob to its spongy flesh, nope, not this one…

From fan to tube to spiraling tower you walked, holding the fob up to each one in turn, waiting for a solid link. The reef thickened as you moved away from the lagoon, growing in taller and thicker clusters until you had to scrape your way between them to continue. Under your parka you were sweating like a quacta, but the spiny polyps on some of the branches could easily scratch you without it as you wormed your way between them. The crystalline gravel under you started to make a different noise, from a crunchacrunch to a squishasquash. Beneath your boots, long, dark purple roots were growing, pulsating with the fluid that flowed through their veins. Eww…

~

The silence of the cerulean cathedral weighed heavy on Mando's audio processors, more so than the stillness of the air. He was in full hunter mode, following your tracks to where you were hopefully safe and sound, though if he let himself think anything else he worried he might have a full blown panic attack. No, can’t think about that. Find the quarry, find your wife. Don’t think about her being hurt, or lost or scared or…

From the open pram a chirruping coo echoed softly between the towering pillars of ice, bringing Din’s attention to his son. Though the foundling looked alright, the tips of his ears were turning the faintest shade of blue. Din pulled his cloak off, though he needed it just as much in the sub-zero space, his foundling always came first. The fabric heaped out of the pram, almost covering the child completely. If she were here, would she put the baby in her shirt again to keep him warm?

Suddenly he didn’t need his cloak, the fire in his chest surging out to burn at his ribs and scald his cheeks. He stopped, shaking his head at the embarrassment that sprouted from his scorched insides. You’ve got it bad, Djarin. Your tracks had lost their heat, but he could still clearly see your footprints in the snow, and a flood of determination spurred him on. Find the quarry.

~

The dark purple roots lead you to a grove of anemone shaped corals, their thick tentacles reaching for the jagged sky. At the center of their radials sat a fat, lumpy bulb, protected by fleshy limbs. Draped between the spires, more of the icky veins hung like vines, throbbing and pulsing with whatever goo they were filled with.

Touching the blinker to the closest arm, the flashing red light went solid, bingo! “This is it!” Your excited voice would have echoed in the chamber that you had fallen from, but the sponges soaked up your words. You’d left the puck back on the Crest, but you remember you were here for some kind of shape, eggish or stone like, but the waving arms arched upwards into bare, knobbly tips. Fruitless.

That left the pod in the center, probably some kind of seed in the bottom of its pistil. Gonna have to cut my way though. You turned your attention to the viney spires that blocked your path to the center and pulled a vibro from your now sweat-soaked parka. Cautiously, and without turning on the thrummer, you touched the blade to the creeping flesh.

Your knife sank easily, and the fluid that filled the tentacles oozed readily out over the steel. Oooooh, pretty! Though it was mostly clear, the syrup gleamed with a holographic, oily shine, looking like a melted rainbow as it seeped through the wound. The open gash quickly grew new vines that slimed their way around their host trunk, pulsating with goop. Weird.

What hit you next was the smell, an intoxicating sweetness like honey on fruit sitting out on a hot summer day. If the anemone was poisonous, it had a devilish way of attracting its prey, whatever that might be, because the temptation to lick your knife clean became almost overwhelming. That is the stupidest goddamn idea you’ve ever had, get cuttin’, damn it! You hacked and slashed your way to the center, trying to out-cut the regrowth; but the scent quickly made you feel hazy. You reached out to grab one of the arms for support, your cloudy head threatening to toss you on your ass, and the serpentine buds tried to coil around your wrists. Sonofabitch! Fuck off ya big vegetable. Just… just a little further.

~

“Of course this is where she went.” Standing at the crack in the ice, Mando was pacing back and forth with his hands stabbed to his hips. Your tracks ended abruptly at the fissure, and the slick surface told him you had probably slipped and fell into the dark, and he was going to have to jump down after you. The hole stretched far away through the ice, so far that not even his full helmet’s array of sensors could detect the bottom. He rested a boot on the icy surface, giving it an experimental slip. If he fell down the hole as well, he would be no good to either of you.

Every protective instinct told him to jump, go in after you, get you to safety, but his hunter instincts knew better. Fishing the trencher from his bag, he sat down at the entrance and tucked the shovel under his knees, pointy side out. He pulled the foundling’s crib into his lap and carefully started the slide. The shovel blade screeched against the tunnel, and though it couldn’t break the ice it would at least slow him down as he scraped his way through the dark.

~

You were dizzy, the coral’s perfume making you falter. Your goal was so close, but in your haze you were starting to get tangled in the vines that laced through the anemone's arms, and it wasn’t long before they were tangled around your own outstretched limbs. Stupid fern, ger’off me! Yanking against the tendrils only seemed to make things worse, and soon your legs were being caught up as well. Fuckin’shit’it’all. Progress to the core stopped completely, and you stood a moment to catch your breath. Fucksake, this shit is strong! You knew you weren’t moving, but even dazed you could feel something snaking around your boots, and you kicked at the movement, horrified to find that you couldn’t. Shit balls of fucking hell!

The slimy vines coiled around your legs, and you fought valiantly to cut them away, but the more you cut the more seemed to grow like hydras from the anemone's wounds. They were up to your knees, then your waist, and the weight of them started to pull on you until you were dragged to the ground. Struggling in their grasp, they tightened on your arms until you could only writhe like an insect caught in a spiders web. You started to scream, but the creeping thing stuffed itself up under your faceplate and plunged into your mouth.

Something warm and wet oozed between your teeth, and you bit down on the assaulting tendril, only to flood your mouth with more of the sweet syrup. Even in your panic you were taken aback by the taste of it, sweet and rich, almost ambrosial, and a wildly primal instinct told you that you wanted more. Around your limbs the vines were not constricting, merely holding you down, and you took another cautious gulp of the nectar. Your fear began to subside, though in the back of your mind you knew it shouldn’t; you were in a subterranean hellscape, far away from your partner, with some bullshit plant keeping you hostage, but maybe one more taste wouldn’t hurt...

You sucked at the intruder, delighted to find it give you more of the tasty substance, the flavor of it settling warm and snuggly in your belly. Closing your eyes you lapped away, enjoying the hazy, almost drunken feeling that was washing over you. It was blissful and comforting, even wrapped up in the living spires you couldn’t be bothered to care as long as you got to have more.

Something slithered up around your legs and waist, but caught up in the ambrosia you paid it no mind until it was worming its way into the waistband of your pants. Your trousers were pulled down around the tops of your boots, and though the sweltering volcanic atmosphere was making you sweat, the heat burning between your legs almost made the air feel cold. The sudden change in temperature reeled you back to reality, and you tried to spit the vine out while you squirmed in the hydra’s grasp. Another gush of nectar leaked over your tongue, and you greedily sucked it down, feeling another wave of cozy fogginess settle in your head.

Not even the sweetness on your lips could distract you from the feeling of something slimeing its way between your legs, leaving a trail of slick around your entrance. The goop tingled, leaving the same warm and wet feeling behind that it was leaving in your throat. Maker help you it felt good, though some distant instinct screamed to you that it shouldn’t, but you couldn’t hear it if you wanted to. Your back arched, driving your hips against the coils between your thighs, chasing the sensation.

The hydra’s arms pushed their way inside you, many thin strands that sqirmed and writhed, working to stretch you wider. Their efforts slicked past your clit, rubbing the tantalizing ooze around the sensitive little nub while they opened you up. Your hips rocked on their own, though in your captured state you were nearly helpless to chase your own high, but the coral’s limbs worked you up for you. Inside you could feel them, sliding past each other in the warm slick in tandem with the rubbing on your aching clit making you obscenely wetter.

You cried out around the knob still in your mouth as a thicker arm started to push up into you, gliding through the slick nectar. The smaller vines coiled around the newcomer, spiraling up its length as it started to pump in and out of your dripping cunt, adding ridges to the smooth length. Fuck it’s thick! The ties on your legs held you in place as the tendril fucked itself into you, twisting and slimeing around your insides. Hot streams of juice, both yours and the hydra’s, coursed down your thighs almost embarrassingly fast, and you choked and gasped around the spigot while you came.

As if it was emboldened by your orgasm the tentacle surged up into you, leaking what felt like gallons of the wonderful, mind numbing nectar into your fluttering cunt until it was pouring out of you. It thrust against your cervix, dragging the smaller tips around the sensitive muscle. More of the threadlike tendrils tried to push in with the larger one, plucking at your clit and folds and playing you like a sinful harp.

The sensation of it all stoked fire in your core until it was nearly burning you alive, and you gladly let the blaze consume you as the devious creature fucked you stupid. Warm juice practically gushed out of you when you came again, squirting all over the arms that held you captive. Your legs were pulled further apart, anything to open you up to fit more of the sneaky devils in you until you were stretched as wide as you would go, the girth of the serpentis shaft pushing against the bones of your hips from the inside.

Slicked thoroughly, the widest arm rolled against the muscle that protected your womb, and even in your lust-drunk state you could feel it pouring its juices into you. The smaller tendrils followed the nectar up into you where no cock could ever reach, teasing at the rim of the protective coil until it started to relax. More pushed past the ring of muscle until you could feel it gaping, holding you open against the large, blunt tip.

The thrusting stopped, and you mewled sinfully around the vine between your teeth, begging it not to, oh fuck please don’t stop! Whatever aphrodisiac you had been pumped full of was screaming for more more more! Your body hungered for more release, as if you hadn’t drenched the surrounding reef underneath you. You flickered an eye open, but the way your back was curved gave you no vantage of the scene below your waist, but you could see the central pod you had so valiantly tried, and failed, to reach.

From a hole in its top grew the amorphophallus that was filling you so deliciously, and you watched in horror as it pulsed something bulbous up its length. The bulge got closer until it disappeared from your line of view, but it wasn’t long before you felt it, something big pushing against your entrance. You cried out against the gag, but you were held steadfast as the rounded thing forced its way inside you.

The width of it knocked against your hip bones until it was past their crest, and you clenched as best you could around the delicious stretch until you felt something you’ve never felt before. You’ve been fingered, you’ve been fucked and loved and filled to capacity, but the weight of something being deposited in your belly was something wonderfully new. The heft of it felt good, filling and wholesome, though the feeling of terror was still trying to permeate your hazy mind, telling you to run, as if you could. Your hands were bound to your sides, but you wanted to rub at your belly and feel what had been put there. The press of another orb teased at your entrance, and you bucked your hips at it, encouraging another fill.

So good! The unknown object settled in your womb next to the first, the size of them pressing against the back of your abdominal wall, any more and you would be showing. A third bulge made itself known, and you seized your coils around it, letting it bring you to release with its stretch. You came around the vines, and the hydra wormed another pod past your cervix, riding with you through your high. A fourth, a fifth, sixth! You forced an eye open, and the swell of your stomach was visible over the curves of your breasts. Fuuuuck, any more and you really might be fit to burst.

Three more times you were gloriously stretched and drained, the exertion of so many orgasms nearly causing you to faint, but you would do so gladly in your heightened state. One more for good measure pulsed into your swollen belly before the vines receded, and the bindings on your arms and legs withered and died. Gloriously spent, you laid on the ground in a pool of nectar and juices, weakly tugging the vine from your mouth so you could gasp for air. With shaking arms you tried to pry yourself free of the dried tendrils, but the nectar that still filled you felt so good that you almost didn’t want to move, lest it drain out.

The first thing you noticed when the effects began to fade was how much the skin on your abdomen hurt, it felt tight, and you weakly brought a hand up to feel it. Maker above! Your belly was full, and you poked at your protruding middle, feeling the pods inside you slosh around in the devious nectar. Warm goo poured out between your legs, making your eyes roll back from the heat. Through your cloudy mind you thought you heard something, something far away that sounded like shouting. The shouts got closer, and you could almost swear it sounded like your name. Maybe it was.

“Tra’laar!” That was definitely your name, though it sounded distant and fuzzy. You tried to call out to the voice, only to cough up more of the sweet syrup that lined your throat. The taste of it was still as delicious as it had been from the beginning, and another blaze of heat coasted down your spine and made your guts clench and your belly jiggle. Licking your lips you called again, this time with enough force to actually make noise, and the sound of corals being torn apart as something barreled through the reef towards you made itself known.

“Tra-” Mando skittered to a halt somewhere beside you, the sound of your gifted name snagging in his mouth. There you were on the cavern floor, covered in dead vines and some kind of goo, but the most distressing sight of all was your sudden pregnancy. Cautiously he approached you and started untangling your arms and legs, trying to clear the offending tentacles away. He kneeled beside you, his armored hands hovering over your rounded shape. “Riduur’ika? Wh- what happened to you?!” His voice was shaking, barely a whisper coming through his modulator.

“Heeeyyy~” You purred, still buzzed on the herbal wine that had soaked every nerve in your body. “Babe… I think… um. I think there’s something… i-inside… me?”

“Well I can see that!” There was some kind of tone to his voice, wedged somewhere between anger and fear and maybe just a sprinkle of desire. “What did this to you?!”

“I dunno... that wiggly thingie got all up in my bisnatch.” You rubbed at your eyes, trying to get some clarity while your armored companion stressed himself to a frenzy. Mama-hen Mando’s fretting started to make you giggle, and the jostling of your laughs had your tummy jiggling with its fullness. Above you your oathsworn was horrified, but all you could see was his silly visor and his twitchy hands. “Prob’bly need to do something about it, don’t we?”

“Fucking hell, cyare! Yes we need to get whatever that is out of you!” He sounded really upset now, panicked even, and you shook your head trying to shake the daze. You started to sit up, but the weight of your womb made it a struggle. “Hey take it easy! Here, let me help you.” His protector instincts kicked in, and he was wrapping himself up around you to raise you to a seated position. You couldn’t help the way you rubbed at your tummy, still riding the high of the juice that coated your cunt and thighs and stuck to the back of your throat. I wonder if I can bottle this up and sell it.

A soft leather hand placed itself on your swell, moving over your taut skin with a featherlight touch. “This isn’t right,” you heard him say, “I should be the one filling your belly, not some fucking vegetable!”

Stupid chuckles burst out your mouth and made you snort, “Pfft… babe are you jealous some fruit by the foot knocked your girl up?”

“Damn it all yes I’m jealous! Of course I am, I'm your husband! And why aren’t you more upset? You almost look like you’re enjoying this!” You ignored him to swipe a finger through the goop on your leg and bring it up to your lips, slurping noisily at the colorful syrup.

“It’s this stuff, it’s tasty! You should try it!” The snap of his visor told you he wasn’t going to indulge you, but his gentle touch was pressing carefully under the drop of your belly, and you could see him watching the way it wiggled. “Bah, you like this don’t you? Don’t lie to me, bucketboy.”

“No!... Well… maybe a little.” He shook his head, trying not to be disoriented by the same daze you were. “We’re getting this out of you right now! Can you sit up? Get on your knees?” He guided you up off your butt and onto your haunches, the weight of your middle lurching forward from the motion, swaying under you. “Stars above, mesh’la, I-I don’t know how to f-feel about this…” He trailed off, torn between seeing you swollen full and knowing damn well whatever it was could probably kill you. “You’re beautiful…”

“Ha, I knew you liked this, now c’mon and get this fucker out of me, yeah?” How the actual fuck were you supposed to do that? Your partner pulled his gloves off and went for the obvious route, sliding his long, calloused fingers up inside your sopping cunt with a curse. Three of his devious digits went up without a hitch in your overstretched state, teasing around to get a feel of you.

“I didn’t know you stretched this wide, cyare, does… does this feel good?”

You shot him a sideways glare, letting your lips turn up in a mischievous sneer. “Ye-yeah, feels amazing.” the ambrosia was still making you sex crazed, and even with your legs covered in your own arousal you could tell there was still more to give. “Din..?”

“I’m right here, buir’ika, I’ve got you.” He scootched back behind you, wrapping one arm in between your breasts and your belly to hold you in place while he hunted through your slick folds. Din had become an expert at finding that naughty patch of nerves behind your clit that had your muscles tightening around his strong hands in seconds, and you let him work your ecstasy right back up. “That’s it, mesh’la, fucking stars I can feel you, you’re close! Come for me, that’s it, that’s a good girl.”

He pressed his helmeted head against your own, burying the sharp edge of the beskar in the meat of your shoulder while you tightened around him. His other arm pressed down on your swell, and the force of your orgasm squeezed something out of your belly and through your channel, rubbing deliciously against your walls as it passed into his waiting hand.

The seed pod that practically popped out of you was a dark purple egg-shaped thing with swirls of green and blue, matching the description of the bounty puck to a tee. Mando brought the thing around for you to see, rubbing at your side encouragingly. It shimmered in the eerie light of the cavern only briefly before it withered in his hand and flaked away on the volcanic breeze. Gone.

“Um, Mando…” You whispered, feeling a weird mix of arousal and fear ooze down your thoat with the unicorn slime, “I think if we’re gonna get them back to the ship, I think they have to, um, fuck... stay…

“Absolutely not! What if they poison you? What if they break open or s-something and kill you?”

“But the bounty-”

“Fuck the bounty!” He roared, “Fuck everything! I can’t lose you, cyare! I… I won’t, especially for a handful of credits.” The desperation that clawed at his voice stung your heart, but you were determined not to fail in your mission, no matter how creepy it was.

“Din,” you hummed, trying to calm him down, “I’m ok, really! Maybe a little mess- Oh~!” The Mandalorian’s fingers slid right back up your weeping cunt, fucking into you mercilously. His rough fingers slid easily through the slick, and he made up for the lack of friction with sheer determination. “Ah! Ah Din! Din yes! Oh yes!!!” High as a kite you went, coming all over his persistent thrusts. His grip tightened on your middle, and another pod escaped your womb.

“I told you to stop trying to fight me.” Oh fuck he’s using that voice! Dark and husky right in your ear, searing electricity over your flesh and blowing up your ovaries. The voice of a hunter, the voice of an alpha, whether he knew it or not. The timbre of it vibrated so low and strong you couldn’t help but whine against the beskar pressed to your face. “You’re going to stop arguing and you’re going to be a good girl and let me fuck you empty so I can fill you right back up. You’re mine, MY riduur, and the only thing that should be inside you is me!” His command flooded with raw power, and you blasted out another pod or two at his words alone.

You were gone, soaked to the core with desire until all you could do was moan into the armor that held you steady. Bonelessly you gave him everything you had, drenching his arms and knees with your holographic slick. Determined as ever, your armored protector pumped into you, cupping your whole pussy in his palm while he stuffed you with his fingers. When you’d rocketed the fifth seed out, you nearly fainted in his arms, drained of all your energy. Your mind was fuzzy, but you could almost pick up the sound of a question making its way over the roaring blood in your ears. “Huh?”

“How many more?” You shook your head, and a furious growl reverberated against your skull. His soaked hand slid out of you and shook itself somewhere nearby, sending melted rainbow goo flying. When the arm coiled around your belly left you, you nearly toppled, but he caught you swiftly. “Drink.” Metal was pressed to your lips, and the broth you had abandoned earlier graced your syrup-coated throat. You’d never been so thirsty, chugging it down until you were coughing, and the hand that held you reached up to cup your jaw, imploring you to swallow.

When the thermos left your lips, you leaned back against your heavily armored partner, letting his beskar hold you up. You were tired of the appetizer that was his fingers, and your swollen belly hungered for the real deal. You needed him. “Dindin… please… please I want your cock!” The body behind you couldn’t go any stiffer, and you felt his clothed erection rub against the curve of your ass. “I know you’re hard, fuck me, please?”

“Not til you’ve done as you're told.” His rasping voice was edged with heavy breaths, whether from the effort of claiming your clutch or trying not to cum in his pants you couldn’t be sure, but it sounded fucking hot as hell either way. Plated arms wrapped around you again, and you were pulled backwards into his lap with your knees thrown over his legs. He prodded your belly, trying to get a count of how many more orgasms he was going to give you. “Four… maybe five…”

Din went for your clit, spinning tight, vicious circles around the engorged nub and making you scream. “D-D-Din!!! Oh yeees! F-fuck me! Please p-please I-I want you in me!” He only hummed against you, rubbing his groin up against your ass to tease you while you came again. He stuffed an ungloved hand up your shirt to find your breasts, tugging and pinching at the sensitive buds until he could feel you shaking in his grasp and pleading for his thick, girthy cock to plow into you and scramble your guts even more than they already were.

For you he was taking charge of the situation, being the anchor you needed to get through this, but behind his faceless armor he was trying not to lose his goddamn mind at the sight of you. Where you sat on him he could grind himself against your soft thighs, and even through the layers of duraweave he could easily imagine himself sliding his length through your slick heat, drenching himself in your cum. Filling that belly. “Come for me again, cyar’ika.” He had to distract himself from his perverted thoughts, though that was becoming an impossible chore. Here you were in his arms, looking like some kind of glowing goddess with your womb as heavy as it was, and he cursed the Universe for giving him exactly what he’d wished for.

Damnation flowed through his modulator at the sound of your begging. “Is that right, cyare? You want me to stuff my cock in this soaked pussy of yours? You’re gonna have to earn it.” He was conflicted about talking to you in such a way, but something about the way he was speaking to you made your muscles clench around his fingers while you moaned against his armor. “You like it when I f-fuck you like this? I know you love these hands, cyar’ika, but if you want me to give you my cock you’re gonna have to come! Come so I can fuck that beatiful belly of yours full!”

Maybe he was talking to himself more than you, but you whined in his arms nonetheless as your walls squeezed and flooded. Another hot wave of slick coated his wrist, and he tossed the seedpod away, diving right back in for the next. His strong palm kneaded at your tummy, taking another count, two, maybe three more. He knew he should still be worried, terrified even, but damn it if he wasn’t harder than beskar. His cock was straining against the inside of his pant leg, desperate to grant his own desires.

“D-Din… w-wait…” He almost didn’t hear you, the thunder of his heartbeat roaring as loud as it was in his helmet, but your wobby arm came back around and patted his leg. “Th-thermos…” The canister was at your lips in a heartbeat, but you pushed it away. “C… Catch…”

Oh! The broth was poured out into the massive puddle under you, whatever, might as well add soup to the mix. He prodded your guts once more, palpating the hard lumps that still sat inside you, two left? “Cyare, that’s it, almost done. Come on, come all over my fucking fingers so I can b-bury my cock in you where it belongs!” You cried into the armor, heat searing from where he was pressed against you to your fluttering muscles to bare down on his fingers with your impending final climax. Dark, sultry praises rasped out of his modulator, so close to your ear you could feel the heat of his breath. “That’s it, ner riduur, one more and you can have my cock. One more and I'll stuff you with my own seed. You want that? Come for me so I can fill you up and breed you like I know you want me to!”

You nodded against him, making some kind of affirmation noise, but the last pod would be the toughest to pull, and he need to make you cum your fucking brains out if he was going to get it. He stopped his thrusts to tease at your stretched walls, rubbing his calloused fingertips against your slicked core. “What was that, riddur’ika? I can’t hear you.”

“Y-yes Din, please…” You were breathless, your words dryer than a desert as they scratched their way past your chapped lips. He laughed darkly against you, reminding you that you should probably stop teaching him new tricks.

“Yes what?”

“Breed me! Din please you big fucking jerk pump me full! I wanna be full of you!”

The cold metal of the thermos was pressed to your folds, making you cry out from the sting of it, but a hot fingertip groped at your clit, spinning one last mindblowing orgasm out of you that nearly rendered you unconscious. The metallic plonk that came from between your legs told you the pod had been captured, hopefully with enough of the nectar to keep it from drying out. Hunting is stupid. Din’s dry hand dug into the flesh of your stomach, searching for any more of the bullshit you had been filled with.

“There. Are you ok, cyar’ika?” Something like a nod wobbled your head, though the darkness coming in around the edges of your eyes told you that might be a lie. “You did so well! It’s all over now, let’s get you back up to the- cyar’ika stay with me!” Limply you laid against him, ignoring his exhausted pleas to slump against the rock hard tent pushing against your ass, trying to get him to make good on his word. You’d never been so spent in your life, as if you’d squirted out your very soul. Blinking your eyes open, you hazily saw the tilted visor of your oathsworn and shot him a lecherous grin.

“You gonna fuck me now like you said you would?”

Mando was rarely as grateful for his armor as he was right now, the cold, emotionless beskar hiding his sweat soaked face and lust-drunk eyes. The way you were watching his visor made him think you could hear the cogwheels in his head spinning out of control. Yes, yes a thousand times yes! Beautiful creature of the stars, more wondrous than any constellation. Her cunt is so perfect, so warm and wet and beautiful and literally gushing with her arousal, just begging for me to fill it. To fill her, Her womb is open, ready and waiting for my seed to be planted, a fertile haven for my younglings. They’ll be so strong, born with daggers in their teeth and songs in their hearts. I want to see her filled. I need to!

“No.” His reply barked dryly through his modulator, chewing on the sound of his denial. “We need to get out of here right now in case that fucking thing decides it wants to go for round two.” The arms that held you together wrapped around your back and under your knees, lifting you gently away from the mess. Weakly you held onto his neck, barely aware of the reef as it passed you by. Staring up at him through tired, tear-washed lashes you were filled with warmth, though not the heat you had felt from the hydra’s nectar. Better than that. Still, though the pleasant sensation was thrumming in your heart and your cunt, you were a bit peeved that he wasn’t going to give you what you’d begged for.

“You suck”

“I know.” The back of his mind roared with desire from hearing you literally beg for him to fuck you full, making his cock throb painfully against his duraweave. Keep it together, Djarin. Stars above he didn’t want to, he wanted to make good on the filthy promises he had poured over you, but there was no telling what else was lurking in the reef. He had to get you to safety, get you to the ship, and maybe then he could indulge himself. Mark you as his territory from the inside. Shaky fingers dug up under the edge of his helmet, and the feel of your skin against his face made him halt. “What is it, ner cyare’se?”

“You’re… you’re a good man. And a good dad.” The Mandalorian froze solid at that one, cocking his visor at you sharply. A new pull made itself known in his chest, something tugging on his heartstrings. Your eyes were closed, having long since given up the ghost as you started to fade away, and it took massive effort for you to drag them back open to see him. “Even if you do fucking suck s’metimes. You take good care’a me, ‘n Beans too, we’re v’ry lucky to have you.” Your words slurred, and you tried to lick your lips to get them to cooperate, but only found more of the ambrosia stuck to your face. You wouldn’t be cognizant much longer. “Thank you, Din.”

His name being spoken by you was more addictive than any spice, and paired with the praise you were whispering against his metal he nearly melted right down to the ground with you. That was all he ever wanted to be. A good man, a good husband, a good buir. Honeyglow flooded his bones, soft and warm and gentle, the polar opposite of the beskar he was covered in. He felt you curl a lock of his hair around in your fingers, the gentle tug on his scalp making him rumble. The life of a hunter was fucked up, to be sure, but as long as he had you and his son, it was bearable.

You kissed at the chest plate you were pressed to, the one that hid the embodiment of your vows safely next to his heart. He pressed his helmet to your brow, and the way you hummed against him in his arms made him want to run back to the Crest where you could have some privacy and peel his armor away, give you what you had so desperately begged him for. Maybe it was the way you were laying so limply against his cuirass, but you seemed so small to him in that moment, like without him wrapped around your body you would dissipate on the volcanic breeze like the pods had. Protect her.

“You’re… welcome.”

Your fucked-out face nuzzled against him, and he couldn’t help but hug you even tighter, making the scent of you coast up under the edge of his armor. It was different, fragrant and succulent though it was probably the juice that still clung to your legs and face. The scent of you was still there, just enhanced by the aroma, made stronger. He took a deep breath of you before continuing through the reef, almost tripping over a low coral when he wavered. Wavered? Why am I wavering?

The sound of a deep, indulgent inhale caught your ears, and you flickered an eye open to see him burrowing the front of his helmet in the fabric covering your breasts. Against you his chest ballooned fully, holding the scent of you in his lungs until it stuttered through his modulator with a curse. You giggled weakly, “Smells good, don’t it?” A low grumble made the plates against you vibrate, telling you the siren scent of the anemone was seeping into his brain. “If you think it smells good you should see how good it tastes! Try some n’ then get’cher self some sloppy seconds, I know you wanna~”

“No! The last thing we need is for me to get caught up in whatever the hell pumped you full of… quarries.” The imagery of that made you chuckle, silly, stupid laughs that bounced off his armor. He was practically jogging now, though you could feel him stumble through the stoney gravel every once in a while as the perfume of the anemone grove started to sink into his synapses. “We’re almost out of here, just a little further…”

“Bah, alright party pooper. I’ll getcha when we get back aboard.”

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

You curled against him, feeling his arms go somehow even tighter. The living fortress that was your Mandalorian carried you with declining ease through the reef, and you could tell from the engine purring away under his armor that he was not nearly as composed as he sounded. One more poke, for good measure. “I love you, Din.”

“And I you, cyare.” His response came out a little cold, but only because he was desperately trying not to melt away into the same puddle of goo you had been turned into. Again you whispered his name, gliding through his ears like a song, and his heart ached to kiss you, to taste the flesh that hugged his Creed-sworn secret so well. He hadn’t heard it in so long before you came, and though his old alor knew it, it was forbidden, meaningless. But coming from you it was powerful, strong enough to bring him to his knees if they weren’t so busy wading through hell and highwater.

Vaguely you were aware of your egress, though most of it flickered in and out of your lust-lost mind. The warmth of the cavern fell away to be replaced with the cold, rushing air of the tunnel as you rocketed back up to the basin. Maybe you were dreaming of the sound of boots crunching through snow, or the soft gibbering of the founding, you couldn’t be sure, but it was pleasant nonetheless. You heard words being spoken from time to time as well, all of them muddied and faint. Maybe they were Basic, maybe Mando’a, but all of them sounded like they cared. Like every syllable and intonation humming through the iron on your cheek was spoken for you alone.

Your Mandalorian carried you diligently back to your broken chariot, trying his best to make small talk with the foundling as he floated along behind. The child seemed worried at the state of his adopted parents, And Din rattled off every reassurance that he could think of, but his legs were starting to weaken from the scent of the nectar so close to his helmet. He marched on through the glacial basin almost on autopilot until the Razor came into view. Warm air sent flurries of snow around him and his crew as the ramp fell open, and blearily he made his way inside.

He had to do something about the state of the two of you, but his knees locked and froze him to the spot, demanding he take a moment to breathe. There it was again, the fruity, summery scent of you that made his dick throb. Damn it all. Shaky steps hauled him through the cabin, and he laid you down on the little cot you both shared. He needed to get your soaked clothes off, but in order to do that he would have to get out of his own armor first. He shrugged off the helmet, though the metal had been protecting him from the temptation of you more than he realized, and the heat that gooped its way through his body from the pungency of your scent nearly threw him to the floor.

Din punched the buttons on his vambrace, closing up the foundling for the night whether he was ready for bed or not. Sorry kid. He peeled his armor away, setting the beskar aside and tossing the soaked fabric into the fresher. Next came your own clothes, and at first he worried he might wake you. Stars knew you needed the rest, but you made no indication that you even knew he was there.

Your limbs flopped like jelly while he tore off your clothes to be chucked into the fresher along with his until you were beautifully naked. Spread like a feast before him on the narrow bed, he couldn’t help but lick his lips. Little shimmers here and there told him that you were still coated in the hydra’s goo, and his first thought was to grab a washcloth to clean you up, but you stretched your lovely arms and made the splashes of color dance like melted candy on your skin, making his mouth water at the sight and giving him a much better idea. Maybe just… just a taste.

~

The faint whirring of the Crests innards caught your attention, and you came back to consciousness with agonizing slowness. You were laying on your bedroll, tucked safely away in the durasteel depths of your ship, though you weren’t sure if it was dark or if you still had your eyes closed. Warm fog settled in your head and wafted through your bones, a mindless comfort that left you blissfully numb. It could have been whatever the hydra had left in you, or more likely, it was whatever activity was going on below your waist. Your breath hitched in your throat, surprising you, but not as surprising as the stars that flashed behind your eyes. “Ah~!”

From between your legs a lusty groan shot right up your cunt and made you fist your hands in the plush fabric underneath you while you came. How is there anything left!? A broad tongue lapped at your clit, slurping away at the remnants of the nectar that coated your folds. The smooth muscle dragged itself through your slit, drinking in everything you were giving before sliding right back to that sensitive little bud to tease circles around it.

“Mesh’la.. I’m.. I’m sorry, I c-couldn’t help it, you taste so good~” The Mandalorian’s baritone rocked you to your core, and another flick of his tongue had you coming all over his face again. “P-please… forgive me.”

“F-f-forgive? Bahh… I told ya it was good, now get lickin’, bucket boy.” You tangled a hand in his curls, pushing him back down to enjoy his just desserts. His tongue fucked into you with reckless abandon, hungry and desperate for the taste of you. He dug his arms under your thighs and forced your mound as tightly up against his face as he could, and you heard him gasp for air between gulps. Exhaustion and pleasure tugged your eyes back closed, and you teetered in and out of consciousness, being brought back to the realm of the living with each fresh wave of ecstasy. Something rhythmic moved against your leg, the muscles in his shoulder thrumming away at something well out of sight. Is he jerking off?

In his hand he was going to town on his aching shaft, using the glittering goo that still flowed readily from your gloriously wet pussy to coat himself in. The coral’s effect had been burrowing into his brain stem from the moment he could smell it, calling to him like some kind of siren; but finally getting to taste it was an otherworldly experience. You had been through enough for one hunt, and though he craved release like a sex crazed animal he would happily content himself with just getting a taste of the ambrosial sweetness while you relaxed.

It hadn’t taken him long to coax the rainbow juices from your stretched folds, and even less time to slick himself with it. For a brief moment he thought he would just lap enough from your wellspring to get himself off, but soon he found himself unable to tear his face away from your delicious cunt, slurping away at the honeyed slick until he was nearly drowning in it. He dragged the colorful fluid around the tip of his cock, almost creaming himself right then and there with the warm tingly sensation that dribbled down his length.

Stars above you were juicy, wet and engorged against his frenzied tongue, though the rest of your body was boneless against him. He didn’t mind holding your legs up on his shoulders while he lovingly cleaned the nectar from the core of your body, in fact he was delighted to be of service. Lost in his indulgences he almost didn’t feel you tug on his hair, bringing his eyes up to meet your own.

“You… you can… in me… please... “ Nothing remained of your shattered mind, but you almost felt bad that he was trying to take care of himself when you were right there, ready and waiting. He shook his head against your leaking slit, dragging himself up for air to answer you, making the hazy emergency lights of the cabin sparkle in the wetness that covered his mouth and chin.

“I shouldn’t, you need to… to rest… ”

“Should’a thought about that before you started tonguin' me. Now get up here and fuck me like you said you would!”

You were starting to wonder if he liked being bossed around, because he growled against your core and yanked you back towards him, burying himself balls deep in one swift thrust. His wet mouth crashed against your own, giving you a taste of your own medicine. Fuck he wasn’t kidding, that’s delcious! He thrust into you with ragged strokes, messy and out of time. Muscular arms wrapped around your body, flooding your senses with the combined scent of him and the intoxicating perfume of the sunken grove.

Din hugged you close to his sweaty chest, digging fingers into the back of your head and the swell of your ass so he could rocket into your wonderous coils, punching the blunt tip of his cock against your tired cervix. His kisses were frantic but messy, all tongue and teeth and heated breaths as if you could do any better. You were almost surprised that you could feel him as stretched out as you were, but the spear of a Mandalorian was nothing to be scoffed at. The girthy thing rutted against your walls, bottoming out with every desperate thrust.

“Not… gonna… last… much... “ He choked on his own words, making a half dozen more ragged thrusts before blasting you full of his cum, painting your walls with his seed. The ring of muscle fluttered against his weeping tip, almost like a tongue that was greedily sucking his cum into your depths. That’s the only seeds she should be filled with, he thought blearily, my seed. His hips twitched against you, giving a few more staggered thrusts to milk himself to completion in your forgiving heat.

Din was panting, driven nearly to exhaustion by the effort of making good on his promises to fuck you senseless. Under him your own breath was stuttered, your chest crushed by his weight. He coiled his arms around you and rolled you both sideways, using the last of his strength to tuck you up under his arm and lay your head on his chest. You murmured something fondly against him as he lazily threaded his fingers through your hair, brushing it out of your face as best he could, but the soft breathing against his skin told him you probably didn’t notice. Soft kisses danced over your face, more for his enjoyment than your own, a fact made apparent by the cutest little snore in his ears. Sleep well, my love. And thank you. For everything.

He could lay there forever, with the weight of you on his chest and the hot slick sliding down his thighs, if he died right then and there he would die a very happy man. His fingers tried valiantly to run themselves down the curve of your spine, but there was no energy left in his body to power them, and he let them rest in the dip of your hips. Your breaths came slowly, a gentle rise and fall that heated his skin where you were pressed tightly against the crook of his neck. Din kissed your forehead again before tangling his limbs around you and burying his nose in your hair. Tomorrow we can get the exterior fixed, the inside is warm enough for now.

A gentle smile tugged at the edges of his lips, making his whiskers catch your hair. And maybe if it’s too cold for the foundling, she’ll keep him in her shirt again. Din couldn’t help but hum at the thought, you all cute and round, even if it was only temporary. By marriage you were a buir to his foundling, as truly as you would be if you had sworn the Creed, but the thought of you carrying his own flesh-and-blood ad’ika was the guiltiest pleasure he could imagine. Now that he knew what you would look like all full and heavy he could more easily indulge those devious thoughts. It was probably wrong to recall the image of you laying on that vibrant nest of tentacles, glowing and radiant and full. And in need. Needing me to care for her.

He wouldn’t admit it, and he knew you were tough enough to take care of yourself as long as you didn’t go sliding down any mysterious chasms, but he loved being needed by you. He loved that the name you had screamed for in that sunken grove was his, that you needed him to rescue you, needed him to pull the pods from your belly. Needed him to breed you. He could hear you in his mind again, you desperately begging him to fill your womb with his warriors, but you had only done so while drunk on the hydra’s wine. Was there any truth to it? Probably not, he’d practically demanded that you beg for it.

But what if there was?

Tired fingers pulled you impossibly closer to him, as if to invite you to sleep in his ribcage, curled up next to his heart. You grumbled in your sleep, murmuring something about tater tots before letting loose a beastly snore. The Mandalorian rolled his eyes, that’s her, that’s my mesh’la, my cyare, my riduur.

And maybe, when the time is right, when the bounties have been collected and the universe doesn’t seem so hostile. Maybe when we find another convert, or even just start one of our own. Someday, maybe...

Maybe I can call her my buir’ika as well.

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #self insert #bargaining with beskar