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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

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By His Command 1

Summary: you arrive at your new household to serve. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: you're screaming at me, why are you starting another AU and I got my fingers in my ears like na nana boo noo.

Oh and there may be more commanders to come...

Anyway, thoughts and prayers welcome for my lost soul. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

You watch the cloud of your breath in the cold air. The grey sky stretches endlessly on, as flat as anything else in this pallid world. A white blur trims the edge of your vision, that every present brim, a facsimile of a halo. You are not a fallen angel but a disgraced sinner, sentenced to penance, fated to serve another's salvation.

You clasp your hands together, red gloves chafing roughly, wool scratching your raw skin. You look down at the scarlet ripples, the endless crimson that marks you for exactly what you are. You pull at a stray thread and let it fall away.

You raise your head and stare at the opaque screen that separates you from the man in black. The guardian drives on across the fields paled by an early frost, dried grasses wilted beneath the premature winter. You take another frigid breath and lean forward, hovering your hand before the small vent in the door. Nothing.

You sit back. You know better than to complain. There is no one for you to complain to. No one who cares. You are not a person with feelings and thoughts. You are a vessel, to be filled and emptied over and over. You repress a shudder and keep your welling eyes aimed out the tinted window.

You dip your head and hide beneath the broad brim of your white bonnet. You clutch your hands tight and wade through the mounting panic in your chest. The women who left the centre didn't often come back, and when they did, it was never pleasant. Still, you would give anything to go back. There you know what the worst and the best is.

You don't know much of what awaits you, only that it floods you with dread. A commander and his wife, but what else? Will he be cruel? Will she hate you? Will you be able to do what you were trained to?

You part your hands and bring them up your arms, hugging yourself. You can't remember the last time anyone held you. The last time anyone dared touch you. Even when you laid screaming before the other handmaids, hands bloody, back welted, no one dared come near you, no one thought to comfort you.

The SUV turns and you force your eyelids apart. You sniffle and wipe your nose with the coarse wool glove. There is a low stone fence that trails the long winding road towards a tall gate. The tires slow as your heart piques and you choke on terror.

At a halt, you hear the man's voice in the front seat, through the barrier that divides you. For order, for chasteness, for your debasement. You are not worthy. You are emblazoned as a blasphemer.

The car rolls on, jerking you back against the seat. A slow draw that brings into view shedding hedges, stone benches, a fountain, a lawn that expands before you. You watch the birds flutter, marveling at their peace, and a leaf drifts down in a calm path to the ground. A serenity that so starkly counterbalances the chaos blooming in your chest.

You veer around the curved arm of the driveway and once more stop. The engine rolls over and quiets. The front door opens and you flinch. Steps tramp and come around, a shadow awaiting you on the otherside as the locks slide back.

The guardian opens the door and you grab the red valise on your feet. You turn your legs over the side of the seat and step out, heels clacking off the hard stone. The man steps back, gripping the strap of his gun.

"Go," he nods his chin in the direction of the house.

You look over at the grand facades, stone and mortar in a centurion style, rooves high and looming, a balcony with a naked trellis below. You gulp and march forward, grasping the round handle of your bag with both hands. The man trails you, keeping you on course as his steps echo your own.

You get to the first step and raise your foot, setting in on the stope edge. The front door opens and steals your attention from the hem of your skirt. You look up as a Martha emerges in her green smock and apron. Her faces is blotchy and her grimace is deepset.

"Come, OfLloyd," she beckons you with a curt wave, "we must prepare for the Commander's return."

#lloyd hansen x reader #dark lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #the gray man #by his command #handmaid au #au #series #drabble

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ohnococo · 5 months

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Gratitude | Kiyotaka Ijichi x F!Reader

“Thanks Ijichi, what would I do without you?” He pauses, and you can hear a soft squeak of leather as he grips the steering wheel a little tighter, looking at you like you’d just offered him the world just with those words. It’s enough to make your heart flutter. He really was charming in all of his awkwardness and you’d made a habit of flustering him over your time working with him, just for a chance to see his face like this.

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Praise Kink, Light Teasing, Hand Job, Blow Job, Dom/Sub Undertones, Subby Ijichi, Moans/Whimpering

MINORS DNI/18+ ONLY

It didn’t take a lot to make Kiyotaka Ijichi happy, just a small thank you or good job here and there and the man’s day was clearly made. It cost you nothing to be nice, but you’d be lying if you didn’t admit the way he always blushed and thanked you for thanking him was cute. He’d saved the day for you more than a few times too, in his own way. Finding a place to pick you up even on the busiest street, liasing with the higher ups you’d long ago grown tired of dealing with, being just as knowledgeable as you needed him to be to keep you prepared for the worst. He mattered, even if it didn’t seem like it to others, or to him.

He’d driven you to your mission earlier today, and now you’re feeling even happier than usual to see his headlights in the distance as you make your way through the trees and back to the main road.

You’d been to much more remote areas than this, but with the chill of winter closing in on you, you wished this particular curse had been somewhere that didn’t require a several mile trek back to the car. Ijichi had wanted to walk you there once he reached the end of the drivable path, but when Principal Yaga called him elsewhere he had no choice but to leave you to it. It was for the best, he wasn’t equipped for the same things you were and would have only wasted his time.

It was cold enough that you were avoiding patches of frost, and while you were thankful you’d finished your job quickly, it hadn’t been quick enough to avoid the early setting sun leaving you in near complete darkness. Fortunately Ijichi was back in time to be the source of the only light letting you know you were heading in the right direction.

The anticipation building during the last few yards to the car has you feeling even colder than before, cheeks stinging and fingers numb. You’re also more than looking forward to a friendly face, since the people you’d helped weren’t very grateful. Ijichi would be though, he always was. Even if the only thing he had to be grateful for was a smile and a thanks. He was sweet like that, just happy to be acknowledged.

He is indeed happy to see you, giving you a small wave and unlocking the door as you come into view. When you finally open the door the blast of warm air that hits you from within has you sighing with relief and you’re quick to get in and close the door. You settle into the passenger seat, pleased to find that Ijichi, considerate as always, has it heated and waiting for you.

“That was quick.”

“Same to you, you went all the way to the city and back in that time?” You unintentionally cut off his answer as you cup your hands over the vent to warm them, “God, that’s nice…”

“Oh, here.” Ijichi angles his own vents towards you as well, and the hot air on your face has you sighing happily. He puts one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift, readying himself to leave.

“Thanks Ijichi, what would I do without you?”

He pauses, and you can hear a soft squeak of leather as he grips the steering wheel a little tighter, looking at you like you’d just offered him the world just with those words. It’s enough to make your heart flutter. He really was charming in all of his awkwardness and you’d made a habit of flustering him over your time working with him, just for a chance to see his face like this.

Leaning back, you enjoy the heated seats fully as you press your now warmed hands to your cheeks. You decide to push Ijichi that little bit further, just to see if his face can flush even more, or if he’ll remember what he was about to do before you have to remind him. “You really are the best.”

“You’re the best.”

This time you’re the one caught off guard. He always thanked you, profusely even, but this seemed forward by his standards. Still, you take the compliment with a smile, and it seems to open a floodgate of things you guess he had wanted to say for some time.

“And you’re kind, and I appreciate that you always say hello to me, and when I pick you up you’re there waiting, and if you’re not you answer your phone right away.”

You’re taken aback, that Ijichi was thanking you for all of these mundane things and that he looked so tense through it all, gripping the steering wheel like he was making some kind of deep confession. It’s cute, he’s cute. So you decide to tell him that.

“You’re so cute, Ijichi.”

He lets out a shaky breath, as if you’d said something lewd to him, then looks straight ahead through the windshield and you aren’t sure whether he’s embarrassed at the noise he’s made or processing how to feel. When he turns to look at you he looks gravely serious.

“Do you mean that?”

“Of course I do.”

His blush deepens and you swear his glasses are on the verge of fogging up. It only makes you want more of that look of his, so you make a bold choice, leaning closer to him and resting your arm on the centre console as you speak.

“Kiyotaka Ijichi, you are very, very, very cute.”

His lashes flutter and his eyelids get heavy, and you swear he’s holding his breath now. He glances down at your mouth, and that’s all the go ahead you needed right now to lean in closer and press a kiss to his lips. They’re soft, softer than you’d expected, and when he doesn’t move to deepen the kiss you pull back to check you hadn’t misread this or the dozens of other similar situations with him. Just as you begin to ask if he was okay with that, it’s as if his body suddenly catches up to his brain and he wipes his palms on his slacks, then holds your face gently as he finally kisses you back.

His glasses are slightly displaced as he does and he’s quick to take them off, setting them on the dash as he returns to press his lips to yours. They’re gentle kisses, small pecks while he holds your face as though it were far too delicate for his hands, and when you finally trace your tongue along his lips and he opens them you realise he’d only been trying to keep in the very moan he lets out and into your mouth.

The volume of it surprises you, and embarrasses him as he pulls back, putting his hands back on the steering wheel and facing forward, eyes shut tightly. You can see from his tensed posture he must be chastising himself internally for acting so desperate, and you know he still hasn’t understood that that’s exactly what you like about him. But if it’s reassurance he needs, you’re more than happy to provide.

“Kiyotaka…” you rarely use his given name so often, and hearing it in such a serious tone gives you his full attention immediately. You place a hand on one of his cheeks, kissing the other one, and his expression softens from nervous to happy again. “You worry too much.”

You kiss his cheek again, this time lower down. Then a few more times along his jawline, stopping just short of his neck. “I like you.”

When you tickle at his neck with the tip of your tongue and he arches his back, you feel proud of him for not having that flash of embarrassment come back as he gives in to the feel of your mouth on him. Instead, he asks for more in his own way, “You do?”

“Yes, and I like kissing you.” You suck gently at his neck and he chokes back another moan by biting at his lips. “Do you like it too?”

He nods, and that’s enough for you for now as you deepen your kisses. When you place a hand on his leg he swallows hard and you rub and squeeze at his thigh. In the back of your mind you wonder just how dark the marks you’re leaving on his neck will be, and wonder if he’ll feel as proud as you suspect you will at not being able to hide them - but at the forefront of your mind is the more pressing matter of Ijichi nearly panting from the way you’re touching and kissing him. When you ride your hand up his thigh and he finally lets a moan slip past his lips your heart skips a beat.

You chuckle, and your breath tickling his neck has him breaking out in a full body shiver. “The sounds you’re making are cute too.”

He brings a hand to his cheeks, as though checking just how hot they’d gotten with the flurry of praise he’d just received. “Th-thank you.”

“Can I touch you?” You’re already touching him, hand riding further up his thigh and fingers just stroking against his balls through his trousers. He knows what you mean though and nods enthusiastically. You trace gentle circles over him, smiling as it sends more shivers through his body. As you lean back you notice how his jacket obscures a proper view at the outline of his cock, but you slide your hand underneath to savour the surprise rather than remove all obstacles at once.

Ijichi seems to be hanging onto your every breath, eyes flicking between your face and your hands, sure to look down whenever you glanced up at him. You swallow, he swallows too, you lick your lips, he does the same. When you brush your fingers up his length and find he’s already left a sizable wet patch in his pants you smile, and feel a sense of delight at how his cock twitches when you do. So much precome and you had only just started touching him properly.

“Poor Ijichi, it’s like you’ve been hard all day.”

“I haven’t, it’s- it’s just since you got in the car. I mean-“ he opens and closes his mouth, wanting to explain himself, to assure you that he wasn’t some pervert who got hard at the sight of you. “It’s just… when you thanked me. I appreciated it.”

He hadn’t explained away anything, in fact you were even more certain that your dear Ijichi had some less than hidden kinks. “Well, I appreciate you.”

There it is again, his cock throbbing against your hand, and it makes you want more.

“And I think you work harder than a lot of us realise.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Your words, accompanied by your hand stroking him through his clothes, has him squirming and it only makes you want more. “Why don’t you take off your jacket.”

He doesn’t seem to catch on at first, so wrapped up in the praise he’s somehow forgotten you have your hand on his cock, but when it clicks he’s quick to catch up with the lost seconds.

“Yes ma’am.” As he takes off his coat in a scramble he winces at his own words embarrassment returning, “I mean-“

“Good boy.” You knew what he meant and knew what he wanted, but still didn’t expect the sound he let out when you said it. A horny little whine from sweet Ijichi, and you hadn’t even touched him properly yet. “Can I make you cum?”

Of course that’s where you were going with this, but he still stares at you blankly for a moment and you can’t help teasing him for it. “Is that a no?”

“No, no. I mean yes, you can, if you want? You don’t have to.”

“I’d love to. It’s the least I can do to thank you for all of your hard work.”

He’s bordering on frantic, shoving his coat into the back seat, unbuckling his pants with shaking hands, thanking you like you weren’t as excited to touch him as he was to be touched. He struggles to unbutton them, but once that’s done he makes quick work of the zipper and pulls his cock out.

There’s no hiding your delight at finally seeing it. It was as cute as the rest of him and your pleased gasp has it twitching so hard it taps his stomach, bead of precum at the salmon coloured tip leaving a string connecting it where it had touched his shirt. It’s modest, if you could describe a dick in such a way, and it suits him. Uncut, no curve to speak of but a sizeable, glistening head, not especially veiny, and big enough to presumably get the job done but small enough that you think you could fit the whole thing in your mouth while barely having him in your throat. Though you suspect something like that would have him cumming on the spot.

“You’ve got a pretty cock, Ijichi.” You lock eyes with him and this time he doesn’t avert his gaze, and you can tell he’d been desperately watching your reaction, hoping that he was good enough.

“Oh,” it wasn’t a compliment he’d ever expected to receive but he takes it gladly, “thank you, you’re very pretty.”

“Ijichiiii…” you’ve long ago caught on to his reaction to the way you say his name. In the past you’d only noticed a blush spread across his face, an averted gaze, now you were wondering if you’d made his dick twitch every time. “You’re so sweet.”

It only feels right to give him one last peck on the cheek as thanks, before you begin thanking him properly. You’re gentle at first, grip so loose as you move your hand up and down, it would tickle if you were touching him anywhere else like this, but your touch already has his thighs tensing.

“Does that feel good?”

“Yes…” he’s suddenly whispering, even though there’s no one around to hear him but you.

You hover your thumb over the head of his cock for a moment before swirling round it gently. He’s sensitive, and even that seems to be too much as he shivers and whimpers at the touch. His tip is given some relief for a moment as you slide your hand down to the base, gripping him firmly as you stroke upward slowly, watching another bead of precum emerge. Wiping your thumb over it you bring it to his mouth, and he doesn’t hesitate to part his lips for you to slide your finger over his tongue. When he tightens his lips around your thumb, sucking gently, he looks down, unable to meet your eyes while he does. The fact that he’d done it without you even having to ask has your thighs clenching together with excitement.

“Does that taste nice, Ijichi?”

He shuts his eyes completely as he nods, letting you slide your thumb back and forth against his tongue for a moment before pulling it out with a wet pop. You grip his cock again, and he isn’t prepared for you finally stroking him properly, moaning and gasping at the feel of it.

“Do you want me to taste you too?”

“What?” He’s still somehow taken aback, as if you weren’t already clearly trying to pleasure him.

“Do you want me to suck your cock?”

He nods, choking on words as you stroke him harder and faster. You let him enjoy the feel of your hand for a few moments more before deciding a simple nod is not enough. You halt your movements, savouring the feel of his throbbing cock and he looks at you as though he might cry.

“Then say it for me.”

“Please, please, please.” You can hear his toes curling from the soft squeak of his patent leather shoes, knees bouncing as he whimpers for you - and you realise he was already on the verge of cumming before you’d stopped.

“You can do better than that, Ijichi, ask me to suck your cock.”

He whines, fighting against himself to just ask for what he clearly wants, cock still throbbing in your hand. Then, he makes a half-whispered attempt, “Please suck me.”

Your disappointed face has him looking distraught, pathetic even, in his desperation to please you and be pleased by you. He doesn’t make you ask him again, taking in a shaky breath then crying out, “Please suck my cock!”

“Of course, Ijichi, anything for you.” Yet again your words have him moaning, even as your hand stays steady, and you readjust in your seat so you can bend down and take him into your mouth.

As your lips wrap around the head of his cock and move slowly down he places a gentle hand on your head, holding your hair back and panting out a barely comprehensible string of thanks. The hand that had been gripping him moves to squeeze at his balls through his slacks as you find you were correct in guessing you could take his cock all the way to your throat with relative ease. You suck your cheeks in, tongue swirling along the shaft before you begin bobbing up and down.

It’s immediately clear that you were also correct in guessing that Ijichi would only be able to handle so much, and you can feel his balls tightening already as you suck. He tries to warm you but it’s clear his impending orgasm is more surprising to him than to you.

“I’m close- ‘mmm cumming!” The words are barely out before he’s filling your mouth, and you take him as deep as you can to swallow the rest. He squirms and groans and whimpers and it’s all music to your ears. You suck him through his orgasm until he’s spent, twitching, whining, letting out soft little pleas before you sit up.

The sight of him gives you butterflies - face red, eyes watery, panting and completely exhausted by the experience. You sit back, wanting to give him a chance to recover without further overstimulation, but he stops you, taking your face in his hands and kissing you. His palms are clammy, and he’s still catching his breath, but it’s sweet. When he pulls back he wipes at your mouth, kissing you between attempts to dry your chin of drool.

You let him, enjoying the look of concentration and tenderness battling with his exhaustion before you kiss him again and sit back into your seat. He does the same, letting out a happy sigh and looking the most relaxed you’d ever seen him.

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER 2

#my writing #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #ijichi kiyotaka #kiyotaka ijichi #ijichi #minors will be blocked #ijichi x reader #ijichi x you #reader insert #self insert #ijichi x y/n

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magpie-writes · 1 year

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Catching Snowflakes

Part One

Rating: Explicit (18+ ONLY)

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

Summary: Din and his latest bounty crash land on an ice planet. Can you trust each other enough to survive?

Tags: Enemies to lovers. This chapter is pretty tame but things will, ahem, heat up soon. Pre-Grogu.

Author’s Note: Unbetaed, but thank you to @acrossthesestars for gently bullying me into getting back on the writing horse. Thank you also to @radiowallet for her advice about all things fic. I love you both lots.

“Is this what you meant by bringing me in cold? Because I gotta say, there must be an easier way.”

The Mandalorian kneeling beside you in the snow responds with an irritated grunt - which is more of a response than you’ve gotten in the hours since the two of you crash landed on this icy planet. You feel a surge of triumph at getting that much of a win although, with your hands in binders, you know it’s nothing more than a hollow victory.

Still, if all you can do is needle him with your words, jabbing in between the unprotected places in his armor like the stinging sleet currently sliding down the back of your neck, you’ll take it.

Neither of you are dressed for this. Standing in the grey leggings, lavender tunic, and thin woolen coat he’d tracked you down in, you’re halfway to frostbitten already. Still, smug satisfaction curls in your belly as you take in the ice riming the bounty hunter’s normally shining beskar. Opaque white crackles over the plates of his armor like frost on a windowpane, its crystalline branches spreading further and further the longer he crouches beside the open panel of his Razor Crest. One of the engines blew hours after he captured you, forcing the ship into a tailspin he’d only just managed to pull out of before making a heavy landing into powdery drifts of snow seemingly as tall as he is.

He’s spent the time since then swearing under his breath and wrestling with various tools, neither of which has accomplished more than getting a few lights to blink on and off, and delaying the inevitable - him handing you over to the people who hired him, collecting the bounty on your head, and leaving you to your fate.

A shiver that has nothing to do with the weather runs through you at the thought.

“Dank ferrik!” The Mandalorian throws a wrench into a nearby drift and rises to his feet to, you can only assume, glare down at the offending mechanism.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. Is this going to delay you collecting your reward money? That’s such a pity for you.”

The black void of his visor turns to you and it takes every stubborn bone in your body not to quail beneath that flat, empty stare. You lean against the ship instead, a look of mock sympathy on your face.

“Why don’t you wait in the ship?” The hunter extends an arm towards the still-open hatch in exaggerated “invitation,” his deep voice tight with impatience.

“And miss all the fun?” Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline, all innocence. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Luckily for your extremities, the Mandalorian manages to wrestle some systems online not too much later. The Crest remains grounded, navigation and comms are still down, and he doesn’t seem optimistic about the weapons system, but the atmospherics flicker back to life, filling the Crest with light and welcome heat.

For a little while, at least.

Before you’ve even finished thawing your chilled fingers over a vent, your captor powers the ship down until all that’s left are a few low lights and the barest whisper of heat. When you shoot a look at him, he shrugs one metal-clad shoulder.

“Need to conserve power.”

Raising your manacled hands, the steel as frigid as the air outside, you demand “Think you’ll still get full price if I’m missing pieces?”

You try to force down the thought that he probably would.

He shuffles his feet for a moment, uncertain, then pulls something out of a nearby crate with a sigh.

“Come here.”

You scoff and take a step backward, your hands raised in defiance. “If you think I’m getting any closer to you than I have to, you soulless, money-grubbing -“

The Mandalorian catches your hands in his gloved ones, his grasp firm but not painfully so, and shoves something smooth and metallic against your palm, making you gasp.

It’s warm.

Your fury temporarily forgotten, you almost groan at the relief as heat radiates to the tips of your fingers. You cup your hands around the polished metal blazing like a tiny sun between your skin and his gloves.

“A hand warmer?” You look up to find the Mandalorian studying your expression, his helmeted head tilted to one side, before nodding once.

“Why didn’t you get one sooner?”

“I just have the one.”

As the heat spreads between you, the ice on his gloves begins to melt, the moisture rising into the cold air as steam. If you were anywhere else, with anyone else, you’d make some flirtatious joke about it. Surprised as you still are by the kindness of his gesture, that humor surfaces despite your better instincts, and a wry smile tugs at your lips.

“Do you hold hands with all your bounties, or just the half-frozen ones?”

The Mandalorian drops your hands like he’s been burned. Only your lightning quick reflexes save the handwarmer from dropping to the floor and, caught off guard, you attempt to hand it back to him.

“Keep it.” He nearly stumbles over a crate in his rush to put more distance between you. “I’m uh, gonna go work on the ship some more.”

Before you can think of a response, he turns and walks back into the howling wind. Alone.

Hours later, you toss and turn on the bunk you found while exploring the confines of the ship. It’s surprisingly comfortable, if small, the mattress thin but serviceable, and the blankets thick enough to wrap yourself in. They’re cleaner than you’d worried they’d be, carrying only a faint hint of what you guess must be the Mandalorian’s scent. Worn leather, softened by what you suspect may be beeswax. The tang of metal and burn of carbon. And something subtler. Warm, almost spiced. There’s something oddly comforting about it - or would be, if it didn’t remind you of the man who was hauling you to a grisly fate.

With a sigh, you flip yourself onto your back and stare up into the darkness. Where *is* that man, anyway? If he dies out in the cold, there’s no guarantee you’ll be better off. Not with the comms down and the ship grounded. You could take your chances that there might be a settlement nearby, but you hadn’t caught any glimpses of one as the Crest was plummeting to the planet’s surface. Besides, with no winter weather gear, your odds of making it any distance before collapsing are… not great.

You’re up and moving before consciously arriving at a decision.

The wintry night air whips around you, lashing the warmth from the blanket clutched around your shoulders before you can brace for its icy onslaught. It’s shockingly, brutally cold. Killing cold. Your teeth are chattering by the time you make it to the Mandalorian’s side.

Snow has drifted against his broad form and icicles cling to the cowl around his neck. He’s not moving and for a moment, you wonder if he actually has frozen to death out here by himself.

Somehow, the possibility doesn’t cheer you the way you thought it would.

“Mando?”

Reaching out, you shake his shoulder hard enough to send snow tumbling down his back, nearly jumping out of your skin when he turns to look at you.

“Maker, don’t scare me like that. What are you doing out here?”

“What do you t-think?” Despite his obvious sarcasm, the Mandalorian’s voice is dull, oddly flat. “Trying to f-fix the engine.”

He tries to rise but wavers on his feet. Instinctively, you reach out, taking his weight when his numbed feet stumble. His Beskar armor is freezing to the touch. You can only imagine how cold he must be beneath all that frozen steel.

“Come on,” you urge, slipping an arm around his waist and encouraging him to lean on you as you make your way back into the moderately warmer ship. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

“You sure you wouldn’t rather leave me to f-fend for myself in the snow? Can’t say I’d b-blame you.”

You cut a glance at the bounty hunter, not sure if he’s joking.

“Oh, I considered it,” you admit breezily as you close the door behind him. Without the furious howling of the wind, the dimly lit ship falls into a hushed silence, quiet enough for you to hear the Mandalorian’s sharp bark of a laugh.

“What changed your mind?”

You shrug, not entirely sure yourself.

He stands and stares at you for a long, long moment before nodding once, murmuring a quiet thank you, and settling onto a nearby crate.

“Wait, Mando, are you going to sleep out here? In your armor?”

“That’s the plan.” He sounds tired, resigned.

“There’s not another bunk? Or…” You’re about to offer to switch places with him but stop, remembering that you’re his captive. His bounty. Why should you care where he sleeps?

“Suit yourself. Just don’t come crying to me when all your joints rust.”

“I’m not a droid.”

For the first time, there’s heat in his voice. It’s enough to make you turn, to glare at him and demand “No? Because you’re heartless enough for one. Tell me something, Mando. Do you even know what they’ll do to me? The people that hired you to bring me down? Or why they put a bounty on me in the first place?”

There’s a long, tense moment and then, “I didn’t ask.”

“Oh? And why not?”

“I never do.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Don’t you think you should start?”

Without waiting for an answer, you turn your back and make for the small cabin. Alone.

It’s only later, when you’re on the blurred edge of sleep, that a question of your own occurs to you: what sort of bounty hunter gives up his own bed for a captive?

#Din Djarin #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin x Fem!Reader #Din Djarin x F!Reader #My fic #Fic

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some-pers0n · 1 year

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The Sound Between Notes

Fandom: TF2

Characters: Medic, Engineer

CW: Needles, injection (I swear to god it's not bad but still there's a warning for it--)

Summary: Engie, sleep deprived and exhausted as can be, hears the gentle sound of a violin playing through the base. Curiosity gets the better of him and he investigates.

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: The idea of this oneshot has been haunting me for months and I finally had the motivation to write it. Fingers crossed that I'll still have the motivation to write the next chapter of my fic soon. I really wanna get back to that... Oh, I also crossposted this onto Ao3 last night. If you'd like to read it there instead (or ya know swing by and read my other stuff), that'd be really nice of you. Anywho, enough rambling, here's the silly oneshot.

The Engineer would say he was pretty used to the madness of his teammates. I mean, he'd already been here a couple of months now, so surely he must have adjusted to it. Anywhere from Sniper and his collection of piss jars to Pyro just...being himself, it was obvious that none of them were exactly 'normal'.

But, what he didn't expect to hear was the sound of music echoing through the halls.

He had been tinkering around with his designs for the dispenser, trying to finalize it and get a good grip on building it, when he heard it. At first, he thought it was just his mind playing tricks. It was quite late and the effects of getting little-to-no sleep over the course of several days was getting to him. Who would've thunk that was not the smartest idea?

But, as time passed, it became clear that it wasn't just in his head. He could hear it. It was traveling through the vents. While it was just barely audible, he could still vividly hear the notes. Someone was playing music. Not just any old music either. It wasn't Demo playing a little tune on the piano or Scout playing his Tom Jones record.

Rather, Engie could make out the very distinct sound of it. The shrill, yet elegant melody it produced. There was no doubt in his mind: that was a violin.

Naturally, he was curious. What could compel somebody to get up at whatever time it is right now and play such...admittedly beautiful music. Even if Engie was more of a countryman, preferring his guitars, banjos, and fiddles, it'd be a lie to say he didn't appreciate the grandeur of other instruments. So, he caved in. He placed down his wrench and walked out of the door.

Now in the halls, he just wandered around. There was no way that this went unnoticed by the others. Perhaps they were asleep or were simply not bothered enough to investigate. Either way, it was somewhat eerie. The empty labyrinth of the base before him, with only the sounds of his footsteps and breathing to duet the violin. He followed the sound, guided towards it like a moth to a flame. He had to see who was making it now. As he did however, it became more and more appropriate just who exactly this mystery musician was.

The music was getting louder as he went further in. He turned the corner, peeping down another hallway. This time he was met with a pair of doors, with a dull neon red sign displaying the words 'INFIRMARY' positioned above. The frosted glass made it impossible to see through clearly, but he could see a dim light from the inside.

There was no doubt in Engie's mind that this is where the source of it was. He chuckled lightly, smiling to himself. Of course. It should've been his first thought to assume it was Medic.

Yet, he didn't want to go back to the shop. He came out all this way just to see what this was about. He couldn't just not go in. He carefully walked towards the door, hesitating for a moment. He listened to the notes, now being able to hear them much clearer. The somber, yet hauntingly peaceful melody that came forth from it. But, despite this, he knocked, interrupting the piece.

Instantly, the violin stopped. Engie felt his stomach drop a fair bit. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to intrude on the Medic of all people, even if they are partners.

Moments later, he heard rushed footsteps approach the door. It unlocked and opened up, revealing the man himself.

"Mein Gott, can't you people see that I'm–" Medic cut himself off upon seeing Engie. He wasn't wearing his work uniform, but rather his light brown waistcoat and white dress shirt. A bright red tie that was ever so slightly wrinkled was tied around his neck. His eyes, bright and blue as they may be, held a tiredness to them. The oddest thing about him however was how his hands were uncovered. His precious scarlet red gloves were removed, showing his delicate hands.

"Hey, doc." Engie tipped his hard hat. "What are you doing up so late?"

Medic glanced back into his room. "I'll assume that you came because you heard that, no?"

"Nah, just wanted to drop by in the middle of the night and watch you sleep. What else?"

He paused. "...that was a joke, ja?" he asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

"Yeah, just messing with you. I was working when I heard your...violin? It's a violin, correct? So many of these darn stringed instruments."

Medic smiled back. "I was playing my violin, that's correct. I couldn't exactly sleep and neither could the birds. So, I figured why not play a few songs to tire both of us out? They love the music and I get some peace of mind."

"They ain't the only ones who're fans of your violin either," Engie said. "Honestly, I thought I was in some orchestra with you playing. Even through the vents, it sounds just amazing." He looked up at his partner. "You don't mind if I stay and listen for a minute, do ya?"

Medic's eyes perked up. "No, not at all!" He grabbed Engineer by the hand, practically pulling him inside. The nice thing about Medic is that you can always tell when he's happy about something. It was cute and endearing, making him almost forget how he was staring at a deranged lunatic.

"Thanks, doc." Engie grabbed a chair and sat down. "I didn't know you played music."

"I haven't quite found an excuse to break out my violin yet," he answered, fidgeting with the tuning pegs. "Neither with my piano or accordion."

"Accordion?" He echoed. "How the hell you managed to learn that?"

"Tradition. My mother insisted I learn these instruments as soon as I could. I was a prodigy that outclassed several adults by the age of six."

"Gee, aren't you special?"

Medic gave a playful smirk in return. "I've been on and off since then. I prefer the classics as opposed to ragtime and blues, as many would prefer. I know you'll like those better as well. I simply don't care."

"Pff, no?" Engie snickered. "I've just never quite got a chance with classical music. Sounds...different. Should be obvious though, considerin' how it's...ya know."

"You don't have to explain yourself, mein Partner," he said. "It's already flattering to have you sit and enjoy my music, despite me being rusty."

"You call that rusty? That was great, doc! Of course I'd have to swing by after hearing that."

Medic's smile shifted into a smug grin. "Well then..." he muttered, clearly enjoying the admiration and praise.

"What song were you just playing then?" Engineer asked, trying to steer things back on the right track.

"Oh, this?" He brushed his bow across the strings, hastily playing a couple of notes. "Just some Paganini."

"...who?" he asked. "Never heard of him."

Medic scoffed. "I'm not surprised." He slowed down, readjusting himself. He rested the violin on his shoulder and arm, going back to playing a slow tune. "Niccolò Paganini was an Italian musician. He's written quite a number of works, most of which are impossible."

"How can a piece be 'impossible' though?"

"He had exceptionally large fingers that allowed him to–rather absurdly in my opinion–play three octaves over four strings in a single draw of the bow."

The Engineer's expression must have been confused as Medic quickly chuckled. "It means that he wrote music that only he could play." He rocked on his feet. "Quite an impressive artist as well. Though, he's known mostly for his deal with the devil."

Engie leaned back in the chair. "So, he made some deal with the devil? What for? Already had big hands, what more could a guy want?"

Medic's expression shifted. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, genuine confusion in his voice. He shook his head and continued before the Engineer could answer. "I wouldn't know the validity of the claim. I recall once asking a demon about it when I was sacrificing some poor sod. They just brushed it off. Quite rude, don't you think?"

"Weren't you talking to an actual demon?" Engie inquired. "Be surprisin' if they were actually...well, concerned about your question."

"Mh, good point. Still, if a man has a question, it should be answered. Nutzloser Dämon..." he cursed. "But, that is his tale. A man who played with such skill and talent that others believed him to have dealt with the devil."

"Can see why you like him then," he said.

"Hm? Oh, well, yes. I do suppose there's an aspect of that to him I can relate to. Although, I'm unsure if he was a mercenary." He laughed. "But, I still do find his pieces to be quite beautiful. This was one of his more energetic pieces: a revision of Liszt's 'La Campanella'."

Medic took a small inhale and drew his bow. In an instant, his fingers darted across the instrument. Engie looked in awe as he graciously played the instrument. In his left hand, the bow glided on the strings, quickly making sharp, yet dainty notes. In his right, it supported the violin, with his fingers pressing down on the right strings to form the correct chords.

It was beyond words, most because Engie's sleep-deprived brain couldn't quite fathom making any up to describe it. The melody was just about hypnotic, despite the intense speed. He could listen to it forever. Just a heavenly melody, a blessing upon his ears that've heard nothing but gunfire and screaming for weeks. He closed his eyes for what was only supposed to be a moment, but found the darkness comforting. He kicked his legs up on the table and folded his arms in. He let out a deep exhale before finally allowing sleep to take him away.

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

At last, he was finished with the piece. Five or however many minutes of just nonstop playing a very challenging song. But, he survived.

He bowed. "Thank you, my hard hatted friend. Deine Anwesenheit war sehr notwendig."

To his surprise, no response. A disappointing considering how much effort he put into that. Did the Engineer just not find it that entertaining?

He looked at his partner, awaiting some sort of feedback. Anything from him clapping or even a simple remark. Yet, nothing. It wasn't until Medic looked a little closer that he saw what was happening. Engie's breathing was deeper and more relaxed. He was...snoring.

"Ah, you've fallen asleep," he said, walking over to inspect him. "Well, at least my music did something, even if it was to lull you to sleep."

He quietly watched him, contemplating things a bit. For one, even if he looked comfortable, a chair is certainly not a place to sleep. Maybe it was how he came to his 'concert' of sorts, but Medic didn't want to leave him asleep on a chair. How he was set up, with his legs kicked up on the table, didn't exactly look the most comfortable.

...fine. Maybe Medic could do something.

His first instinct was to sedate him. Then again, his immediate thought upon seeing anybody asleep is to sedate them so that they're–for lack of a better term–easier to work with. For one, he could pick up Engie and not have to worry about waking him up. It would also ensure that he'd have a nap longer than half an hour. If anything, shooting him with god-knows-what would be a favor.

He walked over to one of his trays, picking up a bottle. It was hard to see in the dark, but he was sure that it was one of his anmestics. Well, it could also be lethal poison, but let's not think about that. It probably is the correct vial. He took a possibly clean syringe and plunged it in, taking a healthy dose of the toxin.

"Now then..." he muttered turning back to the Engineer. "This will help you, mein Partner," he said, giving Engie a little pat on his hard hat before sticking the needle straight into his neck.

No reaction from the Engineer as he did so. Not even a slight change in breathing. Still breathing. That's a good sign. Means he's not dead. Being dead is bad, correct?

Medic hovered around the Engineer in silence, waiting a minute or two just to see if he was fine. After deeming that, yes, he didn't seem to be dying, he smiled. "Alright, now what?"

Truth be told, he didn't think this far. Usually when he sedates a person who's asleep, it's to then experiment and steal their organs. He couldn't quite do that with Engie, mostly because he was out of organs and...quite frankly didn't feel like rearranging his small intestine for the hell of it.

But, he couldn't just leave Engie on a chair. That's uncomfortable. Medic had slept in quite a number of them in his life. He was familiar with the back pain that would come in the morning.

Then, he realized something. The most obvious solution: carry him to a bed.

Medic smacked himself in the head. "Of course! Why had I not thought of that already?" he laughed to himself. He wedged his hands under the Engineer. One to support his back, the other to carry his legs.

"Eins, zwei, drei!" On three, he scooped him up. An easier feat than he thought, seeing as Engie was only around two hundred pounds. His body was warm and almost...comfortable to hold.

"Alright, now..." He was about to head to the door, ready to carry him across the entire base and back to the workshop before stopping himself. He had a bed right in this infirmary. A week ago, he cleared out an old storage room and remade it into a bedroom.

It was close and Medic knew it was cozy in there. A king-size bed with heavy blankets and a heavenly soft mattress. However, it was his bed. He didn't want to give it up, at least not without seriously considering it. Medic valued comfort. He liked his bed.

But...maybe just this once, Engie could sleep in it.

He swallowed his pride and walked towards the room. He bumped into the door, opening it up. He approached the bed and plopped the Engineer right down on it. He then pulled the blankets over him, tucking him in.

"I swear to god if you even so much as tell a single soul about this..." he whispered. "Just this one time, ja? And only because you fell asleep to my violin."

No response. Engie was peacefully snoring away without a care in the world. Medic couldn't help but feel a smile stretch across his face. He knelt to Engie's level and caressed his face. He then patted him lightly. "Gute Nacht, Herr Engineer."

He stood back up and walked to the door. Taking one last looked before closing the door. He was still somewhat confused, mostly by his own feelings and emotions. He was partners with this man, yes, but he never...cared about another human being this much.

It was definitely odd. But, that was a thought for another night. He's tired, and now he'll have to sleep on one of the operating tables. A small price to pay for Engie to get a decent sleep. Just this once though.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 fanfiction #science party #engiemedic #medic tf2 #engineer tf2 #somepersonswriting #SP-writing

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safyresky · 1 month

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Been thinking about CS!TSCS for a month at this point. Please enjoy these lil' doodles about it!

[ID in ALT and typed dialogue under cut :D]

Numero 1

Jacquie: Up the CHIMNEY?!

Carol: RIGHT UP IT! MID DISCUSSION!

Jacquie: GIRL, DUMP HIS ASS!!!!

Numero 2

Santa: How did you even GET that vest, huh?!?!

Jacqueline: I MURDERED my PREDECESSOR.

Santa: you what

Numero 3

Jack: Good day at work today, little flurry?

Jacqueline: Mmmmmm yep! Told Santa I killed you for the vest and the title >:)

Jack, turning around sharply and full of pride: HA! NICE!

---

These were the doods I meant to post last last Thursday after this scrimbly Jacqueline, lol. When I tell you that Crystal Springs TSCS has been IN MY HEAD, I AM NOT JOKING!

The reason I didn't post these sooner is bc I really wanted to draw the last one and hadn't gotten around to it as of yet, and I also wanted to colour these PROPER scrimblies because holy SHIT I LOVE COLOURING 🤩🤩🤩🤩

More fun facts about CS in TSCS:

Carol and Jacqueline have regular vent sessions. Mostly Carol; Jacqueline's just there for the TEA (and emotional support)

Her catchphrase could very much be "CAROL. DUMP HIS ASS" in this cs au

"Don't you mean tscs au?" NO. TSCS IS AN AU IN ITSELF AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

She frustrates Santa to no end bc A) She's Jack Frost and he has previous biases, and B) she goes OUT OF HER WAY to bother him.

When I say Jacqueline dislikes tscs!Scott, I am not joking. It is not hyperbole. She can't STAND him. And she tells him that to his FACE. MULTIPLE TIMES. And adds insult to injury bc she's buds with Carol and Buddy and Sandy, lol, and all the new gen elves are like, chill with her

(I have a silly hc that Betty is a Bernelle kid and Jacquie's her godmother, lollllll)

She and I both dislike people who need change and refuse to work on themselves/believe they're FINE and it SHOWS.

After she made the claim about murdering Jack, Santa was TERRIFIED on top of his usual distaste for Jack's successor lmao

She was quite delighted at how Santa took that tale. Elaborated a bit. I imagine it went something like this:

"...you what?" Her murderous look intensified. Santa could easily picture the darkness gathering around her the way it did in cartoons when the evil character was. Well. Being evil. "You heard me!" She sounded way too delighted, Santa noted. "I killed my predecessor! You know, the guy before me? Yeah. Stabbed him right dead. Pulled the vest out of the melted pile of slush that was once Jack Frost the first and put it right on." "...Jesus Christ."

Anyway, after that, she goes home and Jack pops in for 4 o'clock coffee and the final image ensues, lol. This interaction follows that:

"And he believed you?" Jack asked, pulling out the chair next to her and plunking down, stretching out his legs and crossing them at the ankles. "Damn near shat himself about it, too," Jacqueline confirmed, looking sly over the top of her mug. Jack laughed. "Oh that's, that's marvellous." "Mm! It was! THEN I elaborated. Told him I took the vest like a war trophy, you know? Didn't even wash it or anything. Shame I said SLUSH instead of BLOOD because I bet he would've like. DIED on the spot picturing me putting on a blood soaked vest, ehehe. I swear Jack, I could see his soul leave his body. Definitely top 5 best days at work. Maybe top 3, even."

Jack is deffs enjoying retirement in this au! Going full vacation mode, spending most days in various hot spots on various beaches with various drinks, usually popping by the family home for 4 o'clock coffee and cocoa--and a break from the sun since he burns and Winter worries

YES he IS still wearing his suit pants. I thought that'd be funny and just about died picturing him in khakis

With every Jack I draw his hair grows more powerful, AS IT SHOULD BE!!

I DID draw a chair behind Jacqueline but her poofy hair ate it~

I think she is A) older in this au than she regularly is and B) is already married to Dite. I'm still on the fence about both those things, but she feels older in this au--probably because the entire cast is older lmao

Late night post is late bc I finished colouring this and wanted to share it asap, DAMN THE TIME!!!!

#the santa clauses #the santa clause #the santa clause 3 #cs au #tscs!cs #cs!tscs #I am still unsure which way to tag this collection BUT WE'LL GET THERE #as i fear the only way to stop thinking about these scenarios is to. GASP. write em #i WILL be morning AND afternoon reblogging these bad boys! sorry NOT sorry!#they brought me joy and this is MY SWAMP!#dani speaks #dani doodles #crystal springs #i'm gonna post this so i know it goes up okay #then update the alts with the image ids :D #OH AND ALSO. APOLOGIES FOR PHOTO QUALITY.#as previously stated. I DONT HAVE A GOOD PLACE WITH NATURAL LIGHTING IN MY LIL 30S HOUSE #AHHHH #ALSO also I am actually a BIG FAN of the mrs c look they gave carol in the series #i loved the big bun and the cowl is my FAVE THING #she should wear it ALL THE TIME over EVERYTHING #THIS INCLUDES THE SHANIA TWAIN BAND TEE AND JEANS LOOK #A N D THE I AM TRYING TO BE GOTH LIKE MY DAUGHTER LOOK #man. thinking of how the series kinda butchered her character has me sad :(

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which-qsmp-egg-would · 10 days

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you said tma influenced your ttrpg, what ttrpg are you playing ? :O and are you a player or a gm ? (or even both idk)

I forgot to answer this--

Its a fully homebrewed one that I really need to rework. it's nearly 3 years old now and I've only done about 4 sessions. I'm the GM, although I'm still improving my storytelling skills. I'm a fic writer, improv is NOT my strong suit.

There's a lot I've written down, and so I really want to give a very basic overview of my ideas, so I'll just throw it all below this cut and you all can ask questions if you want. But this is going to be LONG winded and probably not make any sense.

Gods:

I made too many of them, and they only really make sense to me. Lore wise, they didn't make this world. They found it. They didn't know something was here before them, and don't realise its REALLY angry that they've claimed domains and stolen its power. In terms of the gods currently in charge, we've got:

Dark and Black (2 facets of darkness, and they might just be the same dude.)

Frost, Snow, and Glacier (again, facets of Winter, might all be the same thing)

Death (fr just mumza, ill be honest)

Sky and Air (air's the winds, skys the ..sky, and also gets the trickster archetype)

Light (all my homies hate light, they're dangerous and bored)

Water (dead)

Locations (only the interesting ones):

Winter: winter trio's domain, noone can survive there.

Frozen Woods: also winter trio's domain. a snowy forest of ginormous, and i mean BIG, petrified trees. the petrification all happened at the same time, isn't that weird.

The Dark: Dark and/or Blacks domain, they fought over it a long time ago but noone knows who won. The place is surrounded by mountains and is full of glowy crystals. It also should be super cold but theres thermo vents under it and also hot springs around.

Creeping Wastes: Death's domain, but used to be Dark and/or Black's. Lore wise, it used to be part of The Dark. They share part of the mountains and its also surrounded by mountains but has a little access to the ocean. The people don't know this though, since something happened that put a blight over the entire land to the point nothing can live there. Fun!

Shrouded Peaks: Air's domain. It's a bunch of mountains that form like a horseshoe that faces out onto the ocean. Its really cool and misty there.

The Exiled: A few island off the coast of the Shrouded Peaks. Noone knows what its like over there but that's where bad people get sent. Ya know, ethically!

The Blinding Desert: Light's domain. Used to be all lush like The Wildlands (forest), but something happened and noooow its a desert. woohoo. Noone really goes there if they can help it because theres a river in the way. Beyond that is the Shores but they arnt toooo interesting right now.

Creatures:

Dark Satyrs. When Dark and Black fought over The Dark (and what's now the Wastes), the energy infested the crystals that were growing there, and the Dark Satyrs popped out! They still pop out of the glowy crystals, and the crystals grow on their bodies. That's how they denote families, too, since they aren't related by blood, but instead by vein!

Dragons: I'm not going to do my funky spelling for these for everyone's sake (Dragoens) but this pretty much where the egg's designs come from for me. they're like reptile people with no wings and feathery tails and shoulders. They were made by Air and given funky patterns and colors by Light. They live on the shrouded peaks in big groups. They can fly, even without wings, by bending the energy around them. But they think it comes from the gods specifically, so they're very religious. Oh, also they have 2 sets of horns! the top set is pretty similar to the satyr's horns, but the second set come out a bit behind the ears and curl down towards the front usually.

Ice Fairies: again, I won't do the funny spelling for you all (Faeries). They were made by the winter trio, and live in the frozen woods. They've hollowed out homes in the trunks and decorate the trees. the faries have twisty horns on the tops of their heads and big ol delicate wings on their backs. if the wings get hurt they CAN heal, but it'll come back discolored. the discoloration depends on their diet though, so they have some fun risky tattooing the do sometimes.

Stone Golems: Death got sad that it couldn't create life, so it carved some golems out of "living stone" from the Wastes. It used some left over soul material from the dead to animate them. They can't really die, but they also don't have enough of a soul to pass on if they do, so they bond their soul with another's so they can pass on with them and go back home to Death :]. Its like c!Skeppy and c!Bad, but the other way around. Stone Golems have a very close relationship with their soul bond, and can read their emotions and stuff.

There's more creatures that I'll quickly sum up, like Candles (failed creature by Light), Prisms (like a siren made of colors. by Light), Black Ice (Big monster in the sea by Dark and Glacier), Walker Wraiths/Darsite Husks (sleepwalking demon -> modified creature that took its body but really isn't all that bad if you know how it works), Shadows (lost souls because of improper reaping), Crystal Golems (long story, but the Wastes WERE a part of the Dark so you know) and definitely some more that I can't think of.

So!

Any questions :]?

#LONG POST #It's very rambly lol #thank you for the ask mansmth #very much appreciated #not a poll

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hedgiwithapen · 7 months

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Prompt: Cameron gets snatched by Helix after leaving Blue Valley. He is very, very aware that no one will be looking for him.

Some nights, curled up on a cot in his basement cell, Cameron dreamed of his father, coming to rescue him. Ice frosting over the metal door and shattering it, and his father holding him, promising that he was safe now, that everything would be alright. He woke from those dreams with tears frozen on his cheeks, hating that he'd hoped, hating that it had been a dream and not real, hating that he'd wanted it to be real even for a moment. His father was a murderer. He'd killed Joey Zarrick. He'd threatened to kill him. But anything would be better than being stuck here. It hadn't been so bad, at first. He'd been so lost, so confused, and his powers had been out of control. Frost had followed his footsteps, and sometimes he could hardly breathe for the ice in his lungs. The head nurse had been waiting when he woke up in a sparsely decorated room, assuring him that he was alright, that he was safe and no one hunting him would find him.

He'd asked for space. Courtney, at least, he thought would have given it. But maybe Artemis Crock, or Rick Tyler couldn't allow the child of their parents' killer to walk free. Maybe they'd convinced Pat Dugan he was a threat. And he was, wasn't he? After everything Courtney had told him, told him when she'd known the truth, maybe he really was a threat.

Nurse Love seemed to think so. They'd moved him down to the basement, in a room with a locked door and a heating vent that never turned off entirely.

"It's for your own good. For your safety, and the safety of the others who make this place their home," Nurse Love said when he asked why. " you don't want to put them in danger, do you?"

It would be selfish to say yes. But he missed his art studio, with the windows to the garden. He missed the sky.

"When can I go home?" he asked, staring unhappily at his mug of hot chocolate. Nurse Love always brought it, first thing in the morning. At least, he assumed it was morning. Often, it froze the moment it touched his lips, but today it had just cooled. "I'm getting better at controlling it. Really, I am." He held it out to her as proof.

"I can see that," she said, her voice wobbling like his grandmother's did. Like his grandmother's used to. "But how much of that is you and not this room? We made it to help you, after all. The design... I suppose it could be transferred to an upstairs room, but it needs too much energy, so it's really not practical anywhere but here. I'm sorry it's not more to your liking. Why don't I find you a nice rug?"

She left the rest of his breakfast tray, and returned hours later with a soft, warm rug for the floor beside his bed. "That's nice, isn't it? Oh, and I brought you another book from the library." Cameron stared at the art history book longingly, but didn't dare touch it. What if he lost control again, and ruined it?

"You could say 'Thank you' you know," Nurse Love sniffed. “You rest, now. We’re going to need to run a few more tests tomorrow.” She left, the door bolting behind her, one more thing he didn’t dare touch.

He did not dream of his father that night. Instead he dreamed the other impossible wish. Courtney, halo'd by her staff, standing at his door.

"I knew you were in trouble. I came to bring you home."

He woke, knowing home was out of his grasp, and that no one but Nurse Love would be opening the door any time soon.

#dammit hedgi day 2023 #Stargirl #Cameron Mahkent #this boy really wanted to be in a rom com sucks to be him

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bcdrawsandwrites · 1 year

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[ID: The first image Psychonauts fanfic banner on a black-to-gray gradient background. On the left in white text it says “Prompt #4: Rescue Mission” On the right is a pink animated figment of a thought bubble, inside which is a donut with frosting and sprinkles.

The second image is a Bad Things Happen Bingo card. Various prompts are marked with a half-brain (prompt requested but not filled) or full-brain (prompt requested and finished) symbol, while the “Rescue Mission” prompt specifically is marked with a full brain symbol. /end ID]

Okay so I hate the way Tumblr crops these so I’m putting the banner above the bingo card. I hope that’s okay, @badthingshappenbingo ! (also I promise the figment in the banner makes sense for the fic)

I am currently NO LONGER OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I have enough to work on to get a bingo! I MAY decide to reopen prompts later if I want to keep going after finishing these fics, but for now, requests are closed!

This request comes from @echoing-interests! Hope you liked my take on this. \o/; Thanks to @jaywings and @of-science-and-stars for beta-reading!

Prompt: Rescue Mission Characters: Sasha Nein, Milla Vodello, and Razputin Aquato Warnings: None

---~~~---

Status report. Dustpan?

Listening to conversations at the water coolers, darling.

Have you gathered the intel?

No, just gossip. It's quite juicy, but I'm keeping an ear out for our target. What about you, Shoehorn?

Searching the trash bins. Sasha flipped through another folder in the file cabinet. The Gastronauts are still terrible at... recycling, so this is taking longer than expected. Eggbeater?

I'm still wondering why we have to use our code names when we're talking through telepathy.

Because the devices Egg Carton gave us to counteract the disruptive waves the Gastronauts put around their base are still experimental, and we don't know that they aren't listening in.

...Are there really devices that can listen in on psychic thoughts?

We don't know yet, darling.

Do you not recall our briefing?

I uh... Raz's mental voice faltered. I... was kinda so excited that we were infiltrating an enemy base that I... forgot to listen.

Sasha's brow furrowed, and he let out a hum. It's a good thing this isn't a more serious mission, or you would be in danger.

Sorry.

Darling, do you at least remember our goal?

Oh! Yeah, got that one. Find the blue—wait! We weren't supposed to relay that over telepathy, were we?

Correct. Can you relay your position?

Affirmative. I'm still in the air vents and looking for the office, as instructed. Over.

Let's resume. Let me know if you find anything.

With that, Sasha TK'd another stack of papers out from the filing cabinet, quickly sorting through them, his eyes darting over the dates. Annoyingly they seemed to jump from January, to March, to November, to May of last year. Either they never referenced their files or they just didn't care how disorganized they were, and he wasn't sure which was worse. Frowning, he slid the papers back into their places and moved onto the next drawer. This went on for some time—there were a grand total of ten filing cabinets in this forsaken clerk's office with four drawers each. This combined with how awful the Gastronauts' bookkeeping was certainly did not make it easy for Sasha to find what he'd been looking for.

At the very least he had a bit of time—this clerk, he'd discovered, liked to take his sweet time with his lunch break, sometimes taking longer than the time allotted. Plus, if their telepathy was intercepted, then whoever tried to investigate them would be looking in the wrong places. Typically for something like this they would've used encrypted telepathy, but Raz had yet to learn it, and the agent that usually taught it was out on a lengthy mission, so they had to fall back on simpler methods. This, at least, was something Raz had no trouble with.

Eggbeater is quite enthusiastic, isn't he? came Milla's voice over telepathy. It was a message sent to him alone, a familiar psychic whisper.

Yes, but his enthusiasm can be a bit... misplaced at times. Finding this stack only had papers from three or four years ago, he sighed and moved on. He needs to pay attention during briefings.

He'll get the hang of things soon, Shoehorn.

I'm sure you're right. Stooping down, he opened the last drawer to find it only had one folder within. He TK'd out its contents, looking them over. Eyebrows raising, he put a hand to his temple. I've only found worthless things here.

That's terrible! We'll have to move on, then, Milla replied with an excitement that did not match her coded words.

Sasha smiled, waiting for Raz's equally-enthusiastic response. As he quickly folded the paper and shoved it into his jacket, however, no reply came. Eggbeater? he asked. Please confirm you received the message announcing my failure.

Perhaps he's forgetting things again, Milla suggested.

Frowning, Sasha sent a stronger signal. Eggbeater? Respond.

His telepathy was met with the almost-physical thud of psychic energy striking against a barrier. Sucking in a breath, Sasha straightened his back. Dustpan, send a message to Eggbeater immediately.

Several heartbeats later, Milla sent an uncharacteristically quiet response: His signal was... blocked.

Change mission objectives immediately. Retreat to base.

Instead of heading for the exit, however, Sasha scanned the darkened office he'd been sneaking around in. Its owner had been out to lunch, but... He hurried up to the desk, spotted a pen, and put his hand on it before shutting his eyes.

Immediately his view was replaced with that of a half-eaten plate of french fries and ranch dressing. (Eugh.) With a subtle suggestion he made the person look up, granting him a better view of what appeared to be a cafeteria. Several other workers were milling about, chatting with each other and eating food. With a few quick uses of clairvoyance, he jumped from person to person, taking a moment to listen to their thoughts.

Ugh, that report is due tonight, gonna have to work overtime.

Can't believe they caught that listening device! That took months to plant.

Man, why are the fries always cold?

While Sasha could feel the anxiety tugging at his mind at finding no information on Raz's whereabouts, at the very least none of these people were aware that there were intruders, meaning that perhaps only a few people had found Raz. The fewer people they had to deal with, the better.

Finally he caught someone that was heading out of the room, and CV'd into her. Meanwhile an encrypted message reached him, and he quickly untangled it: Sasha, have you found anything?

He replied with an encrypted message of his own: I'm currently employing use of clairvoyance to check around the base. A note on the listening device we found in the Motherlobe, but nothing on Razputin.

I'm searching for ripples as we speak. This shouldn't take long.

Yet even now it already felt like they were taking too long. The woman whose head he'd hopped into was walking to the restroom, so he moved from her to a man that was exiting the men's room and striding down another hallway. This one only had a stack of paperwork on his mind, so he jumped from him and over into a person lingering in the doorway of an office. There was nothing of note in there other than a very tired worker holding his head in his hands while the woman in the doorway rambled about the latest football game. The man at the desk finally raised his head. "Rhonda, I know, I know we lost. Man, I can't believe I stayed up to watch that mess." He rubbed his eyes. "I'm so tired I think I'm hearing things—I swear I heard a kid in here earlier."

Sasha gave a start.

Sasha, Milla's encrypted voice came over telepathy. I've got something.

I may have as well.

"Seriously, like, did Jakob bring his kid in again?"

"Nah, we would've heard from Morter if he did."

"True..."

Quickly Sasha compelled the woman in the doorway to glance out into the hall, and from there, jumped into a different person's head through another open door. Some people here may have heard Raz's voice, he replied quickly. I may be close to where he was taken. He took a moment to listen in on the worker's thoughts, and upon finding only an extreme longing for donuts, he jumped to the next worker he could spot. What have you found?

I may have pinpointed where Raz was taken. Raz's signal is blocked entirely, but I've found a man who's very intently focused on a child, in a storage room...

Sasha's stomach dropped, his mind racing to several different conclusions, none of them positive. Perhaps a secret interrogation room, he thought frantically, compelling the man he'd jumped into to glance around the hallway. Sure enough, he spotted a storage room, but the door was shut. Frustration gnawing at his astral consciousness, he tried to send a subliminal urge to the man to grab some files that had definitely been put in that particular storage room.

What? the man thought. Where'd that come from? That one doesn't even have files in it, that's in the one on the second floor.

Gritting his teeth, Sasha sent another subtle signal: Someone left a very important file in there and it will get lost if I do not grab it.

...Oh yeah, Elliot dropped his report in there last time. Ugh.

With a sigh, the man fished in his pocket for a key before moving to open the door.

"Uh-uuhhhh hang on, occupied!" a frantic voice came from inside, followed by a lot of scrambling and clanking.

"Wha'd'you mean, 'occupied'?" the man outside asked. "You're in the device storage, Morter, not the bathroom!"

"Look I'm—I'm conducting something in here, okay?"

"Conducting... what, exactly?"

"An... interview?"

The man outside groaned. "Man, why don't you interview applicants in your office? What've you got one for if you're just—"

"R-Rhonda wouldn't shut up."

"...Ah, got it." Sighing, he shook his head. "Look, did Elliot leave his report in there?"

"I... oh. Huh, he did."

"Just hand it to me, and I'll leave you and the new guy alone, okay?"

"R-right."

Sasha readied himself, and the second the door cracked open, he jumped into the man—Morter's, apparently—head. Sure enough, once the man turned around he found himself staring at a dimly-lit room with shelves and shelves of boxes and strange devices he didn't have time to analyze.

And in the middle of the room was a metal chair, with Raz sitting on it, bound and gagged, a look of fear and worry in his eyes. The counter-device Otto had provided him with was sitting on the floor a distance off, too far away to properly block the disruptive waves around the building. He jumped into Raz's head, taking a quick read of his thoughts.

Oh no, oh no, please don't come back here, this isn't good...!

He'd seen enough.

Don’t worry, Eggbeater, we’re on our way.

Without waiting for a response, Sasha yanked his consciousness back to his own body, shutting his eyes against the dizziness it brought. He pressed a hand to his temple, fingers digging in so hard they hurt. I've found him. He's in danger.

There was silence on Milla's end for a moment. When she replied, her mental voice was cold. We've known the Gastronauts could do questionable things... but placing a child in danger...

There's no time to waste.

Nothing more needed to be said. Sasha levitated up into the ceiling vent he'd initially come out of, closing it behind himself and crawling through. He'd come to this place a number of times for routine missions, but he was less familiar with the location of the device storage. He'd seen the cafeteria before, so if he could remember where that was from his current position, and build a mental map of where he'd gone to find the door to storage...

It wasn't the first time he'd had to do something like this, yet for once he was having trouble focusing; the longer he took to do this, the more likely it was that Raz could get hurt. How he was being hurt, he wasn't sure, and not knowing only worried him more.

A hand—one that wasn't truly there—gently rested on his shoulder before squeezing it. Sasha, Milla said, and he shook his head, bringing himself back into focus. Silently he crawled through the vents, heading in a direction just west of the cafeteria. Milla, meanwhile, was disguised as a Gastronaut herself, and navigating the building below him, moving over to where she'd felt the waves. Sasha could feel the frustration bubbling on her end when an actual Gastronauts agent stopped her to ask some questions, but he moved on, heading closer and closer to the storage room.

A wailing noise, distorted through the vents, made the hair on his neck stand on end.

It was coming in the direction of the storage.

Sasha was over the vent cover in moments, and with a single psi-blast knocked it off its screws and sent it crashing to the ground. He followed seconds later, landing a bit more roughly than usual, one hand to his temple. On the opposite side of the room, Milla slammed the door open, her presence filling the doorway.

Both of them stood partially crouched, one hand to their temple... until they took in the sight before them.

Raz was still sitting on the chair, no longer gagged, while the man that Sasha had caught a glimpse of earlier was now lying on the floor, hands covering his face as he sobbed. Between them sat Raz's Psycho-Portal. Upon seeing Sasha and Milla barging into the room, Raz whipped his head around, eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Oh! Hi, guys!"

Slowly Sasha and Milla straightened their backs, lowering their hands as they both stared at him.

"...Razputin. What."

Raz shrugged sheepishly. "I felt your CV earlier, but I was kinda preoccupied with helping Morter, and I was also really worried that his coworker would come in here and see us. Which, speaking of—Milla, can you shut that door?"

Blinking, Milla stepped into the room and shut the door softly behind her. "Who's... Morter?"

"ME!" the man on the floor cried, scrubbing the snot and tears from his face.

"But don't worry! We've got it all settled now. D'you mind untying me, though? I was gonna ask Morter, but..." He lowered his voice to a stage whisper, "I think he's kinda having a moment right now."

Sasha felt oddly lightheaded as he stepped up to Raz, using telekinesis to untie the ropes that bound him. "So you're not hurt?"

"I feel a little stiff now that you mention it," Raz said as he hopped down. He rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs. "I think I can walk it off, though."

"We... may have caused a bit of commotion," Milla remarked, glancing back toward the door. "I think we should take our leave."

"Already?" Frowning, Raz snatched up his Psycho-Portal, hurried over to Morter, and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, I gotta go. Sorry I couldn't stay longer. But you're gonna stand up to Jakob from now on, right?"

Morter raised himself up onto his knees, scrubbing at his face again. "Y-yes!" he sobbed. "I will!"

"Great! Glad to hear it." Giving him a positive thump on the back, Raz stood up straight and hurried over to Sasha. "Are we heading back through the vents?"

"...Yes."

"Okay, got it. See you later, Morter!" He paused. "Please don't rat us out to your bosses, okay?"

"I-I—I won't!"

"Thanks!" Grinning, Raz hopped up onto his levitation ball and bounced up into the vent. Sasha and Milla exchanged bewildered glances before following.

Once they were out of the building and heading back to where they'd arranged for Oleander to pick them up, Milla finally spoke up: "So... can you tell us what happened in there?"

With a wince, Raz ducked his head. "Yeah, so, I kinda got caught..." Then his head shot back up, and he held up his hands. "But it's okay! 'Cuz Morter took me into that storage room—he wanted to interrogate me, I think, but I saw he was all stressed out, and I asked him about what was wrong, and he talked about how he's this office worker and this one agent keeps bullying him and dumping all this work on him and making him watch his kid at work, and... I kinda... asked if he'd like me to take a look around in here." He tapped on his head. "He was actually kinda curious about how we do that kinda stuff, so he agreed, and... I... kinda helped him sort things out from there." Raz paused, then screwed up his face. "His mental world was a daycare."

Sasha laughed, quite a bit louder than he'd intended, and Milla and Raz stared at him. "That's... quite remarkable, Razputin."

"You think so?" Raz smiled, only for his face to fall as he glanced aside. "I was... kinda worried that I wasn't doing as well on this mission, especially since I missed so much of the briefing."

Milla stooped down closer to him to give him a grin. "You did amazing, darling!"

"Awesome! Man, for a bit there I was worried we weren't gonna pull that mission off."

"Well, about that..." Frowning, Sasha pulled the paperwork he'd found out of his jacket. "I did find the new employee paperwork, but we weren't able to secure the blueprints for their newest device."

"...Oh, yeah! Almost forgot. I did get taken to device storage, so at one point while Morter's back was turned..." Glancing over his shoulder, Raz TK'd a rolled-up sheet of paper out of his backpack.

Sasha and Milla exchanged glances, both of them giving a relieved smile as they looked back down at Raz.

"You really are something, Agent Aquato."

#sasha nein #milla vodello #razputin aquato #psychonauts #bad things happen bingo #psychonauts 2 #fanfic #my art #my writing #OKAY I have one more on the backlog to edit #also working on a oneshot that has nothing to do with the challenge #before I get to the next fic

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motorcyclebucket · 2 years

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Hope your trip goes well or has gone well (depending on when you see this!!)

So, I had an idea. What if the climate control on board the Invincible II malfunctions and it causes Mark and Mack to scramble around to try to fix it. And like, what if the Captain!reader had also been an ac/climate control unit specialist/fixer? And like... The three of them split up to try to find the problem, but when they group back up, the captain’s not wearing their coat, the top of their jumpsuit is tied around their waist, and their wearing a tank top, and still super sweaty.

Like, how would the crew react to their captain be very obviously more uncomfortable in the lack of cool air?? (does this make sense??)

- dragon anon

Hey annon! sorry for the wait, I've been a tad bit busy, but here it is! hope this is alright!

Words: 534

====================

God, why was it so hot!? Not even a minute ago everything had been fine, and then-

“Computer!” Mack shouted as he entered the bridge, the intercom whirring to life with a small beep. “Why does it feel like the sun in here?!” He asked, the computer pausing for a moment, searching for the problem.

“It appears the climate control is out of order. Would you like me to alert Head Engineer Mark?”

“No, i can fix it myself-”

“He has been contacted and says he is on the way.” the computer said, the intercoms shutting off soon after.

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

It had taken Mark over 20 minutes to finish the job he was working on. With the cooling off, he was taking constant breaks to wipe off sweat before it got in his eyes. It didn't help that it required welding, causing the area he was working in to become even hotter. Eventually, Mack stepped in so he could take a small break.

Once the job was done, they both began the long walk to climate control. As they walked down the hall, their conversation was cut off by a blast of steam from the vents. But it wasn't hot. It was cold.

For a few moments, they both stopped, relaxing in the temporary cooling. That was, until it got too cold, frost beginning to fill the hallway. “Warning,” the intercom spoke out. “Coolant leaks in the south-east hallway.”

“Shit…” Mark mumbled, He and Mack continued their way down the hall, becoming warmer the farther they got from the vent. In fact, it seemed to be getting hotter than it was before. They could both practically see the heat radiating off the walls. They needed to get out of there, now.

The two quickly made their way down the hall, the end splitting off into three rooms. Placing his hand on the pad next to the door on the right, Mark looked over at Mack, a slight smile of relief on his face.

“Finally, let's get in, fix it, and get out-” The door opened with a loud ‘whoosh’, The two looking into the room, only to find someone fixing the climate control panels. Not just anyone, but their captain.

You had been crouched, one knee to the ground while the other was propped up. Not only that, but your coat had been tossed to the side, the top half of your suit had been unzipped, the sleeves being tied around your waist just above your belt, Leaving the back of your turtleneck tank top uncovered, your back muscles showing through. All that either of them could do was watch as you placed the panel back in place with a ‘click’, the intercom buzzing to life once again.

“Climate control is now online.”

A sudden breeze of comfortably cold air filled the room as you picked up your coat and toolbox, turning towards the door.

“Oh, hey guys! Just got it fixed, no worries!” you said, walking to the door, patting Mark and then Macks backs as you walked out, a faint dusting of red on both of their faces as you passed by.

They both silently hoped the climate control would break more often.

#iswm #x reader #iswm x reader #in space with markiplier #🐲 anon!

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witchofthesouls · 2 years

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(Ahh, a short thing after Blueberry is born. Enjoy.)

You’re damn sure how it happened, but you’re not sure how it happened.

And that question has been haunting you since the initial surprise of “Bam! You got a metallic bun in the oven!”

You stare at the newborn cradled in some sort of nursery pod, and you’re not sure what you expected, but hey, it’s yours and Prowl’s. They look more like an actual Cybertronian after their protoform settled rather than a techno-organic abomination worthy of a horror sci-fi film, which is a good omen.

Hopefully.

Trophon had cleaned up the little guy and some more distinct features popped up. You could see a pair of tiny nubs on their back and a bitty crest on their forehead and maybe it’s the drugs but you can definitely see an annoyed scowl on his face, optics still shuttered, and little hands clutching the mat.

Forget “chip off the old block,” it’s an adorable, rounded mini-Prowl in grey tones. Frown and all. You’re definitely getting that donut pillow now.

The door to the private room then slides open and Prowl walks in, hands full with Energon, datapads, and a duffel bag.

Your mouth moves before your brain could stop it, “Prowl! I’m gonna get you a donut pillow, Prowl. Glazed. You’re a glazed man. Mech. Mech-man. Mechanical. Mechanismmmm.” Suddenly you're staring at the ceiling, energy gone as you rest in the pillows. Exhausted, sweaty, and full of drugs. You speak to the orange vent. “Gonna get it for Mini, too. Blueberry with frosting and sprinkles. Cute donut for cute baby.”

Prowl isn’t fazed by this at all. He takes the seat next to the bed, and you roll your head to look at him and the cradle-pod thing. There’s a twitch to his lips, a not quite smile but it’s a sign of contentment in Prowl-speak. He comments, “I’m partial to aluminum flakes.”

“ Oh, I was thinkin' abou' cop-per. That’s zah good donu-ahh....” You slur, trailing off, eyes heavy. You can feel Prowl patting your hand, telling you to sleep it off. There’s the soft twinkle of a datapad turning on, the soft beeps of the newspark’s readouts, and you vaguely hear the door chime going off as Trophon, the medic you found for the carriage, speaks with Prowl. The words unintelligible, your mind is too far gone to pick out the Neocybex, but it didn't sound worrisome. No prickle of distress rolling over your skin. Just cool air and Prowl's warm servo...

You knock out.

#transformers #transformers idw #idw #mtmte #prowl #reader insert #childbirth #pregnancy #bitlets #sparklings #maccadam #my writing #Prowl is the guy that brings work with him even to life events and emergencies

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thatscarletflycatcher · 5 months

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Christmas carol poll - category: Alphonsus Liguori vs. Alphonsus Liguori

(St. Alphonsus Liguori was a lawyer-turned-priest who became bishop, and composed these Christmas carols for his diocese)

music and lyrics below the cut

youtube

You come down from the stars, O King of heaven And come to a cave in the cold and frost O my divine Child, I see you here trembling O blessed God Ah, how much it cost you to have loved us You, who are the Creator of the world, lacked clothes and fire, oh my Lord.x2 Dear chosen little child, how much this poverty makes me fall in love more and more, since love has made you poor for our sake.

youtube

When the Child was born in Bethlehem, it was night and it seemed like midday. Never have the shining and beautiful stars seen themselves like this: and the brightest went to call the Magi to the East.

Soon the birds awoke, Singing in a new form: Even the crickets with their chirps, jumping here and there; He is born, He is born, they said, the God who created us.

Even though it was winter, beautiful child, thousands of roses and flowers sprouted. Even the dry and tough hay that was placed under you, it blossomed, and it was covered with branches of flowers. In a town called Engaddi, the vineyards flourished and the grapes sprouted. My child, a tasty bunch of grapes are you; that makes the mouth sweet with love, and the heart drunk with gladness.

There were no enemies in the land, the sheep grazed with the lion; the leopard was seen playing with the goats; the bear and the calf, and with the wolf in peace the little lamb.

In short, the whole world turned upside down, the sky, the earth, the sea, and all the people. Whoever slept felt his heart jumping in his chest with joy; And he dreamed of peace and contentment.

The Shepherds were watching over the sheep, and an Angel shining brighter than the sun appeared and said to them: Don't be scared, no! There is happiness and laughter: the earth has become Paradise. For you today in Bethlehem the awaited Savior of the World was born. You will find him, you cannot be mistaken, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in the manger. Millions of Angels descended and began to sing: Glory to God and peace on earth, No more war - the King of love is born, and gives joy and peace to every heart.

The hearts of the Shepherds beat in their chests; and one to the other said: why are we waiting? - Quick, let's go, because I feel the desire I have to see the God who became a child is fading. Leaping, like wounded deer, the Shepherds ran to the Hut; there they found Mary with Joseph and my Joy; and in that Face they had a taste of Paradise.

They remained enchanted with their mouths open, for a long time without saying a word; then they made -tearing up- a sigh to give vent to their feelings. From the bottom of their hearts with a thousand gestures they expressed their love. With the excuse of offering gifts they began to slowly approach the Child, he did not refuse them, he accepted them and showed his appreciation by placing his Hands on their heads and blessing them. Gradually gaining confidence, they asked their Mother's permission: they covered the little feet with little kisses - first, and then those little hands, and lastly the Little nose and the little cheeks.

Then together they began to play and sing with the Angel and Mary, a single voice - so sweet, that Jesus said: ah aah... and then he closed those graceful eyes and fell asleep. The lullaby they sang seems to me to be the one I am now saying. But in the meantime - while I sing it, imagine being with the Shepherds near the beautiful Child. "Come sleepy from Heaven, come and put this little Child to sleep; for pity's sake, since he is little, come sleepy and don't delay. Beautiful joy of this heart, I would like to become sleep, to make you, sweet, sweet, put these beautiful eyes to sleep.

But if you made yourself a little child to be loved, only love is that sweet nap that can make you fall asleep. If so, you can go to sleep, for you this soul is beautiful and burnt. I love you, I love you... uh! this song already put you to sleep. I love you, God, my beautiful, my joy, I love you, I love you.

Then singing and playing, the Shepherds returned to the herds once again: but how can it be helped? they no longer found rest in their chests: they came and went every now and then to their dear goodness. Only hell and stubborn and obstinate sinners became afraid, because bats want to stay in the darkness, scoundrels fleeing from the sun. I too am a dark sinner, but I don't want to be hard and stubborn. I don't want to sin anymore, I want to love, I want to be with the Child like the ox and the donkey.

My little child, You are the sun of love, you shed light and even warm the sinner when he is all black and ugly as pitch, the more you keep him in mind, and you make him beautiful and shining. But You will tell me that you cried, so that the sinner would cry too. I'm wrong, ouch! if I had died an hour before sinning! You loved me, and as thanks I mistreated you! My eyes, will have to make two fountains of tears, crying to wash - to warm the little feet of Jesus; Who knows, maybe once he's calmed down he'll say to me: Come, I've forgiven you.

Lucky me if I have this good fortune! What more can I possibly want? O Mary - My hope, while I cry, I ask you: remember that you have also become the mother of sinners!

#Christmas carols #Christmas music #music polls #Christianity #Catholicism #alphonsus liguori #quanno nascette ninno #tu scendi dalle stelle #Youtube

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dysnomic-absolution · 5 months

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we go by Dysnomia, or alternatively: Distorted

we post:

-ramblings

-writing

-vent/trauma things

-whatever we damn well please (-❄️)

-and some various fandom stuff (TLT, arcane, babylon berlin, maybe some other stuff)

we’re not into syscourse. do not drag us into it. we don’t have the time, or energy thanks.

if you can’t respect basic decency, we’ll block you. if you don’t like us, go ahead and hit that button. tumblr is the space you curate for yourself, go wild.

we likely won’t mention names here. emojis or first initials only. this is for privacy, and our safety. any intrusions will not be accepted.

happy to talk/make friends, but please be respectful that we don’t always answer messages reliably.

alters under the cut

commonly seen here:

💚💜 (side blog) [🖤+🩶 fused]

❄️ (i have a sideblog now)

🩵💙 (i also have one too)

#pinned post #txt.❄️#txt.🩵💙#txt.💚💜

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boydykedoctor · 2 years

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i wrote this immediately after i got home from the NYC stranger things experience so it's kind of shitty but here's a summary:

you basically come in for a “sleep experiment” in the rainbow room as a test subject. the position of this event in the timeline of ST is super fuzzy and unclear and that's because it would make no sense if it was part of the actual story. it's basically an opportunity for self-insert fanfic in which the party members, Owens, and Brenner have one-sided conversations with you.

everyone in the sleep experiment group happens to have “powers," and we're sorted into three sections: I think they were physical (red), psychic (blue), and intuition (yellow)? Or something? Physical ppl (me) had telekinesis, psychic people could freeze things, and intuition could create visions (like kali) and mess with lights if i recall correctly. one by one, each group gets to do a little pose--like El holding up her hand--as a special effect, like a coke can getting crushed or "vision" spiders crawling around on the wall, occurs

Brenner finds out we have powers and tries to capture us by sending us off for more tests. (there's an actor who plays the scientist running you through the experiment, but then there's a hologram-like screen that shows the real Matt Modine talking to us and doing his creepy Papa thing)

When we move deeper into the lab, we hear Dustin and Erica in a vent, and they say that their friends El and Max are in danger in the Upside Down. Max went in by herself (i genuinely can't remember why. someone help.) and El went in after to rescue her. Now everyone else has to rescue them. The typical stuff. Will, Mike, and Lucas are in some other room of the lab, able to see what’s happening with cameras and tell us what to do/how to use our powers. there's a very cool effect with frosted doors and demodogs throwing themselves at the glass/blood spattering/doctors dying horrible deaths/etc. we run around for a bit as the party members mess with electronics to help get us out, and then we open a portal and go through to the UD.

we eventually find Max in the Upside Down (the woodsy part) and she talks to us, tells us she shouldn’t have gone off exploring on her own. El shows up but has trouble using her powers against the demodogs and demogorgons bc she’s been fighting for so long. we all give her our ~magical power energy~ (which feels odd and not like something that would be possible in canon but whatever). she's able to fight off the monsters and close the portal.

somehow this boots us out of the UD and into the normal Hawkins woods. everyone in the party shows up and thanks us and tells us we’re friends now. it’s cute. will is the only one who basically doesn’t do or say anything interesting, which is because we're strangers to him and he's shy but he's my fave okay :Y

all the scenes with the party are played by the real actors! they do some fun 3D stuff in the UD to make it look like everyone is standing in the room with you. except for at one point El is an in-the-flesh actor who has to lipsync to MBB's voice. i don't know why they did that but they did.

Oh i forgot one of the doctors who did the intro bits was extremely funny bc her only job was to stand there and stare at you creepily while her more gregarious counterpart explained what was going to happen. loved her.

there were a bunch of fun little details but i didn't get photos (phones were illegal. shout out to whoever got that shot of will, mike, and lucas) and my memory is shit :/ anybody else who went can feel free to add onto this post or correct me!

#tbh my favorite part of the experience was improv-ing a conversation with phillip the scoops ahoy employee actor #we talked about erica and monster-proofing scoops #and mayor kline not being a man of the people #taron.txt #stranger things #long post

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rotten-games · 2 years

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so i went through old posts and saw a post mentioning arthur sharing a cigarette with the mc and either him or mc sharing the smoke via kissing, would it be possible to request a short of that? 👀

I haven't written any shorts in a very long time but today I shall break that silence. Also if anyone else has any short ideas feel free to pop them into the inbox because I might be able to get them out more easily.

Lol anyway...

Arthur is smoking again. If it were something that could actually hurt him maybe then you'd have the ground to stand up to him and say 'stop'. As it is, however... He takes another long drag and buries himself deeper into the oversized coat as the frost of the Understreets seeps deeper into your bones. Even up by the vents on the apartment balcony the meager heat offered up does little to warm the frost tipping your fingers. Ancients, and even your bloody knee hurts.

It's little better in the apartment proper, even under an army of blankets and in the arms of each other it's a struggle just to remain properly heated in the artificial winter created up above. Your eyes close and for a moment (or perhaps more, if you're really being honest with yourself) you yearn for the heat of the desert. Oh, it of course had its own problems but those you could deal with. This... this is just corporate callousness. Perci may have all kinds of theories on how to combat it but that's another monster altogether and those types of solutions are above your pay grade.

Your eyes find Arthur’s profile backlit by the neon of Ledala proper, a slow stream of smoke pouring from his open mouth as he stares endlessly upwards. You couldn’t assume to ponder what it is that goes on inside that ever-racing head of his, the flickering of pale blue pupils the only evidence that anything at all is going on inside his mind. Even together (whatever ‘together’ really means to him) he doesn’t offer up his thoughts and theories, doesn’t let you know when something dangerous lurks within the depths of his pearly gaze. With anyone else it might irritate you--and even sometimes this vexes you something fierce--but you’re used to Arthur, used to his silence and his vague promises of taking care of everything.

It’s nice, at least, being able to rely on someone instead of being relied upon.

“I’m gonna--” Your voice catches as Arthur’s head whips around to face you halfway between a new drag of his dying cigarette, eyes blinking in sudden confusion as if he entirely forgot you were there in the first place. Instead of mentioning it, you clear your throat, try again. “I’m gonna head in. Work tomorrow, you know.”

You quirk a humorless smile, Arthur just hums in awkward acknowledgement. Sometimes, you lament, you wonder if you’re even together, that you didn’t just dream it up one night in lonely yearning for the man but sometimes--Arthur hesitates a heart beat--just sometimes, you know you did not. He hasn’t exhaled yet, his breath held in his lungs with the smoke that might otherwise be killing him if it weren’t for the liquid science keeping his abused body sewn together at the seams, and in that moment he looks like a rain-soaked mutt.

Somehow, that endears you. “Come here,” You mutter, arms outstretched, and Arthur follows--you chuckle--like a rain-soaked mutt.

Arthur is nothing if not predictable but sometimes he likes to break that pattern, keep you on your toes. He falls into your arms, pinning you to the balcony railing with his bulk and icy gaze, head slightly cocked in self-confusion before he slowly leans in. Chapped lips that taste of bile barely meet your own, and something frigid rests in his shoulders, a stiffness that arcs down his spine and ends at his feet planted heavily to the floor. Eyes creak open, your own mouth reaches for his own as the sour smoke drifts between you, inhaling into your lungs as you each share in your own private thoughts without saying a single word. Only when your fingers reach to curl into Arthur’s coat do your lips actually collide, teeth clacking with the impact that neither of you truly notices.

You’re not sure how long you kiss for; certainly much longer than intended, but neither of you are paying attention in the midst of the smokey cloud enveloping you like some kind of mind-haze. Arthur pulls away first, panting heavy, but suddenly looking alive.

“Want something?” You ask, trying for humour but finding none.

Arthur simply scoffs, adjusts his coat properly onto his shoulders, “Course not,” before turning back to stare off into the nothingness of the night. You watch, for a time, before padding back into the apartment just that little happier and smelling of smoke.

#coi game #been listening to music and suddenly I have the URGEtm to write #anyway feeling much better today :) which is a nice change of pace #Arthur

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