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suzukiblu · 2 days

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WIP excerpt for tabetharasa behind the cut; alpha Jazz, a dark alley, and a very pretty omega. ( + non-chrono link for mobile users )

Jazz has no idea why Red Hood thinks he smells anything but delicious, but there’s a very reckless and dubiously-ethical part of her that would be willing to prove it to him. Not that she would, obviously, because that would be, again, incredibly unethical and highly inappropriate and also a total dick move.

She just could, that’s all. Just if it came up or whatever.

“Well, it’s not,” she says, mildly put out by whatever’s going on here, and Red Hood growls. His scent blockers continue to be useless. Just–absolutely useless, yes.

Ancients, he smells so good. What is she even supposed to do about how good this omega smells?

Maybe offer to walk him home, or at least offer him her jacket so he has enough alpha scent on him that no one bothers him on his way back to his den. Although he’s a crime lord–or a vigilante? one or the other, whatever–who’s built like a truck, so that probably isn’t really a concern, she supposes.

Then again, some people seriously do have no sense of decorum.

Or survival instincts.

“Shut the fuck up!” Red Hood snaps. Jazz frowns. That seems like a disproportionate amount of anger in his tone. Maybe he's sensitive about his pheromones. Well, if people have been telling him he smells like death . . .

Though “death” doesn't necessarily smell bad, in Jazz's opinion.

Admittedly, that's a liminal's opinion and besides the point anyway. But still.

“Alright,” she says. “But can you get to your den safely? Or . . . somewhere you can den down, anyway, I don't know. I assume you have a headquarters or a safehouse or two, something like that. Or at least can afford a heat hotel or know a decent clinic.”

Red Hood hisses at her. It crackles through his modulator, but the sound of it still makes her jeans a little . . . uncomfortable, she'll just say. Sue her, she likes omegas with a bite to them. Johnny 13 definitely didn't win her over by being the sweet and polite type; he won her over by being a blunt asshole in a leather jacket who'd convinced her that he was a sincere and straight-up person.

She wonders how “sincere” the average Gotham crime boss really is, but it’s a little difficult to concentrate on that question with the scent of old books and burning cedar filling up her nose. And also that note of lilac. That note of lilac is a problem.

A serious problem.

“I realize heat drop is probably imminent and you must be uncomfortable, but it’s a valid concern on my part, given your condition,” she says, which normally she’d make sound politely disapproving but really can’t make sound any kind of disapproving right now. Again: the lilac. “So can you?”

“Fuck makes you think I'd let you anywhere near my den?” Red Hood snarls. Jazz blinks; tilts her head.

“Nothing,” she says. “What makes you think I was asking to go anywhere near it?”

Red Hood–stalls, briefly. Jazz tries to be polite about how incredibly obvious a tell that statement was.

Flattering, but incredibly obvious.

“I mean, I'd be happy to escort you if you’d like,” she says. “Or lend you my scent, if you need it. But I'm not trying to presume anything.”

“Fuck off,” Red Hood snarls. “Nobody escorts an omega like me.”

“Do you think maybe you have some self-esteem issues?” Jazz asks. Heat is almost definitely making him a bit more volatile and emotional than normal, considering the kinds of things he’s been saying to her, but it still seems like a valid question. Being on their cycle doesn’t make people different people; just makes it a bit harder for them to censor and control themselves.

Or a lot harder, sometimes.

Judging by how strong Red Hood’s pheromones smell right now . . .

Well, he might be having a harder time than he’s used to having, so far as “controlling himself” goes.

Jazz certainly is, all inappropriate knotheaded puns aside.

Do Poison Ivy’s pollens make cycles hit harder, actually? Or does the suddenness of the effect disorient or throw people off, maybe?

Well, that’s a worrying thought, since Red Hood seems to be out here alone.

“‘Self-esteem issues’?” Red Hood repeats incredulously, his pheromones briefly sparking with bewilderment. Jazz decides not to press it, since he might be feeling a little vulnerable right now.

“Yes,” she says. “Is there someone you can call, if you don’t want an escort or to borrow my scent? I could wait with you until they show. No offense, just Park Row’s not a very nice neighborhood.”

Red Hood laughs.

“No fucking shit!” he says, spreading his arms. “It’s Crime Alley!”

“I know, sorry, I just keep accidentally calling it ‘Park Row’ in my head. Still new in town,” Jazz apologizes. She assumes a crime lord would prefer his territory be correctly referred to, anyway. Seems like a thing. She knows standard humans don’t actually have haunts–even most liminal ones don’t, including her–but sometimes she does . . . well, not forget, exactly, but just . . . expect them to anyway, she supposes?

She spent way too long in Amity, yes.

Even without Crime Alley being Red Hood’s actual haunt, though, it’s still disrespectful to call it the wrong name. It’s still his territory either way, and she imagines someone on their cycle especially wouldn’t appreciate the mistake.

“What is your damage?” Red Hood snarls, his voice modulator crackling threateningly as he visibly bristles, and Jazz catches notes of that electric and unexpected edge in his pheromones again. Still vaguely familiar, but still not quite what it seems like it should be. Just . . .

Really, if she didn’t know better . . . well, she’d think he was liminal. But that seems like a very unlikely coincidence for her first week in Gotham, so . . .

Then again, her life is her life.

It’s not really the time to be asking Red Hood about his levels of ecto exposure, though, and she’s pretty sure they’ve both got more important priorities right now.

“We don’t really have time to unpack all that, to be honest. You really do need to get home,” she says. “Or at least call someone to pick you up. If you go into heat drop alone in Crime Alley, I can’t imagine it’s going to end well.”

Red Hood hisses. That might’ve sounded like a threat, Jazz realizes belatedly.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” she says, apologetic again. “But it’s not safe, is it?”

“If anyone I don’t want near my ass tries to touch me, I’ll put a bullet up theirs,” Red Hood growls, low and crackling.

“That seems like a lot of trouble when you’re on your cycle, though,” Jazz says. He’d have a body to deal with, and maybe someone would call the cops–well, she supposes it is Crime Alley, so maybe not . . .? But it’d be self-defense anyway, and if he is a crime lord, maybe he has people for that.

Hm.

She really needs to get familiar with this area as soon as possible, yeah. And just Gotham in general, really. Every city has its own idiosyncrasies, but Gotham is its idiosyncrasies.

Well, so is Amity Park, of course.

“I think you belong in Arkham, lady,” Red Hood says. Jazz feels like a Gothamite should be more understanding of someone taking supervillain attack side effects and hostile heated-up crime lords in stride, but apparently not.

“Technically, you’re not wrong,” she says with a wry smile. She’d offer him a handshake, but that’s not really appropriate for an alpha to offer to an omega in heat. Especially not an unmated alpha, which Jazz very definitely is. “I start Monday. Jazz Fenton, psychiatric intern. At your service.”

Red Hood manages to very clearly stare at her without actually taking off the helmet. It's actually an impressive amount of expressiveness to get across, under the circumstances.

Or there could be a touch of liminal empathy happening, admittedly. That's possible too. Especially with another liminal involved.

Jazz briefly considers what knotting a liminal omega might actually be like if an empathy loop got established somewhere in the process, which is a lie, because what she’s actually imagining is picking up this liminal omega and showing him exactly how delicious she thinks he smells.

Definitely inappropriate.

“They will literally eat you alive,” Red Hood says.

“I mean, there’s a risk of it,” Jazz allows, because nothing is a perfect guarantee. It’s just not a very large risk. Comparatively, she means.

“You applied to Arkham on purpose, lady?” Red Hood says disbelievingly.

“Oh, no,” Jazz says, shaking her head. “They made me an offer. Somebody read my thesis and liked it, apparently.”

Well . . . “thought we should interview you for either a position or to have your file established for whenever the convictions start rolling in”, whichever. The interviewing psychiatrists had a range of reactions during her interview, she supposes is the best way to put it.

Jazz really doesn’t think it’s fair to classify her parents as actual supervillains, but an increasingly long list of professionals has, admittedly, not agreed with that assessment.

She can’t imagine what they would’ve thought if she’d told them about Danny, considering.

Well, it’s not her problem if someone else is going to be close-minded about things like that.

“I’m sorry, I’m really not trying to be pushy here, but are you sure you don’t want to call anyone? Or want my scent. Or . . . literally anything,” she says, gesturing a little awkwardly with her shopping bags. “I do get told my pheromones are pretty discouraging to unwanted attention, if that helps?”

“Sure they are,” Red Hood snorts. Jazz tries not to look disapproving, given his compromised state. That kind of thing can bother omegas in heat, she knows.

“That’s what people tell me,” is all she says. Obviously it’s not just the default parts of her scent that make it a strong deterrent, but as for the force of the emotions and claim she can put into it . . .

Well. She just hears it’s “discouraging” to other alphas pretty regularly, that’s all. And also some betas, depending on their sexuality. And, um . . . well, a little closer to “catnip”, for omegas, but . . .

“I’ll believe it when I smell it, knothead,” Red Hood snorts again. “Prove it.”

Jazz isn’t sure that’s a good idea, considering–again–his compromised state, but, well . . . he’s clearly a strong omega himself, and maybe she’s a little miffed by him just assuming she’s lying about something like that, that’s all. She knows plenty of alphas do lie about their pheromones or even lay on fake ones, but . . . well, it’s hard not to wonder if he just thinks she’s a lesser alpha because she’s female, or because of how she’s dressed or looks or speaks, or just because.

Her inner alpha doesn’t love the experience of one of the most gorgeous-smelling omegas she’s ever scented sneering at her worth as an alpha without even giving her a shot to prove it, either way.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

#dpxdc #anger management ship #hardcover ship #wip: alpha jazz and a dark alley #tabetharasa #omegaverse

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loonylupinblack3 · 1 day

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Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body.

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury.

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist.

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones.

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

#wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x reader #xmen #x-men #xmen movie #xmen movies #x men movies #marvel #hugh jackman #james logan howlett #james howlett #x men #xavier #charles xavier

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shycoconutt · 2 days

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Graduation Day (Nanami x Reader)

Content: pure angst.

A/N: oops, sorry. <3

..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..°°••....••°°..••°°°°••..

“I can’t continue living this way. I’m leaving.”

The air seems to still when his words hit your ears. Standing together in the courtyard of Jujusu High, both in your best clothes for graduation day, Nanami came with a mission to end things before they even had the chance to begin.

“W-what?” you stutter.

His expression is hard to read at first. His face looks pained, constrained. You try to look into his eyes, currently hidden behind his blonde fringe. But he’s keeping them from you.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time,” Nanami continues, his voice barely above a whisper, “I am not going to continue on the path of being a jujutsu sorcerer. I can’t do it any longer.”

Instinctively, you reach out your hands to intertwine in his, to which he lets you. Using your thumbs to rub circles over his palms, you sigh.

You are no stranger to the fact that Nanami has been having a difficult time ever since the death of your former teammate, Haibara. His participation in missions became limited, and while you were perfecting your craft, he did only what he had to in order to get you both out alive.

But, you always had each other. That’s the whole point, right?

“And because I’m no longer going to be a part of this world,” he gulps, “I don’t think we should continue with… us.”

Your grip tenses and your hands start to shake.

Nanami not being a sorcerer is something you can handle. Sure, a relationship between a sorcerer and a non-sorcerer is unconventional, but it’s not impossible. It is possible that you could be gone for months at a time, but your love is strong enough to handle that. It is possible that you could die, but that’s a possibility for everyone, right?

Almost as if he could read your mind, Nanami shakes his head while giving your hands a tight squeeze.

No, no, no, no, no.

You can’t bury the anger, the rage rising in your chest. You can feel your vision going in and out. It’s suddenly becoming too hot in the summer sun – your clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably.

“Us?” you seeth between your teeth, “There is no us, Nanami. There never was. Why?” your voice is rising, and control is quickly leaving you.

You finally look up again from your intertwined hands. To your surprise, your eyes finally meet his.

Pain.

“Why?”, your tone is becoming more venomous with every word, “Because you are a coward.”

You wanted it to sting. How dare he? How dare he break up with you before you’re even together. How dare he give up on what you too could have. How dare he give up on your shared life. How dare he give up on you.

You are successful because you have never seen so much hurt in the eyes of your most loved. It breaks your heart. The single tear in the corner of his eye makes yours well up and overflow.

Regret.

“I-I’m sorry,” you cry, “I don’t- I don’t mean that, Kento.”

Using your hands, you yank him forward to wrap yourself around his waist. Thankfully, you feel his arms wrap around your shoulders. His hold on you is tight, almost desperate. He rests his cheek on your temple, breathing in your scent.

You don’t understand. This, you and him in a warm embrace, feels perfect. If this is all you could have, you’d be happy, because you could have him.

“I love you,” Nanami whispers in your ear while holding you. Your tears are now staining his nice shirt. You can’t, no you won’t, let go. Never.

“Why won’t you ask me to come with you?” your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

You feel his chest cave in as he lets out a sigh.

“You know I can’t ask you that, baby,” his hand trailing up to cradle your head, “Being a sorcerer means so much to you. I won’t ask you to give that up. If I did, it would be the most selfish thing I’ve ever done.”

To your dismay, he is right.

“I love you, too.”

You don’t remember much of what happened next. Quickly, he was gone, and you were left standing alone amongst the beautiful flowers and green grass. Your body felt as weightless as the breeze around you. You were hollow, empty.

As you lay in bed in your dorm room, still in the same clothes you wore three days ago when he left, you can’t help but wonder how it’s possible that two people in love could exist apart. He is the one – you feel it in your soul. But, he’s gone. Your love wasn't enough for him to stay.

This is life now, isn’t it? From now until forever, part of you is missing.

Telling you to give up being a sorcerer would be the most selfish thing he’d ever done? No, he was wrong. This was the most selfish thing he’d ever done.

You hate Nanami Kento for ever loving you.

#nanami kento #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #nanami x you #nanami x reader #nanami x #nanami x y/n #jjk #jjk angst #jujutsu kaisen #nanami kento x reader

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tommykinard6 · 2 days

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I love your headcanons!

Why do you think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex and how does that show?

Also do you have any more ideas about the emergency contact one? Like the first time they get a call from the hospital...

Yessss thank you so much for asking about those headcanons! I’ve been wanting to talk about these.

I actually just got another ask about the emergency contact and I’m going to go super in depth for that, so stay tuned!

But why do I think Tommy has a difficult relationship with sex? I’m so, so glad you asked. This is one of my biggest headcanons.

However! Please read with caution. TW: for a form of self h*rm involving sex, self hatred, and internalized homophobia.

Tommy was extremely closeted for most of his life. When he was at the 118, he couldn’t even accept himself. But at some point, he stopped being able to ignore it. For me, this might be when he realized he liked Sal (see my other post).

Now for some people, exploring your sexuality includes a *ahem* wild phase. To me, Tommy had two parts of this phase. The first one was…not great.

Tommy was a self loathing closeted man. He hated himself for being gay. He wanted to be “normal”. So when he stopped being able to ignore it, he thought he could “get it out of his system”. So he went to bars outside of LA (he wasn’t risking bumping into anyone he knew) and hooked up with any man who showed interest. He wasn’t picky. He was just more focused on getting out of this “phase”.

So he hooked up with a lot of men. And he didn’t care about himself at all. In fact, he out right hated himself every time. So it devolved. If something didn’t feel good, Tommy leaned into it because he saw it as punishment. He used sex to punish himself and to hurt himself.

I’m not quite sure about how he pulled himself out of it, but we’ll go with this. My idea is that he had a sexual partner who caught onto what was going on, that Tommy secretly hated something happening but refused to stop on his own. The partner shut down the event and when he called out, gently, Tommy on what was happening, Tommy broke down. The partner held him and listened to his garbled story and talked him through it. Instead of the hookup, they spent that night just talking, with the partner trying to get Tommy to see what was happening and get him out of the slump.

And it didn’t fix it. Tommy continued this pattern for a couple more hookups, but he started to get discontented and uncomfortable. Around this time maybe, the 118 got Bobby Nash and the dynamic started changing. Sal was gone and working with Hen, an openly queer firefighter, started to shift how he looked at himself.

So Tommy stopped the hookups and started working on himself. He couldn’t quite face himself still, but he worked on liking himself outside of his sexuality. He started laying down boundaries when he hooked up. And then he left the 118 and started therapy. He was ready to start over. He was tired of the pain and the self hate and the cycle he’d been stuck in for so long. He wanted what he’d seen others have. He saw Hen with her wife and he wanted a bond like that and he knew it could never be with a woman.

Skip forward all this time and he’s learned to be gentle with himself. He finally loves himself. He has embraced his sexuality. Maybe he’s still friendly with that past partner or maybe they never spoke again, idk. He’s had some relationships but nothing’s really stuck. Then he meets Evan Buckley.

He meets Evan Buckley and he feels the sun for the first time. And Evan is still figuring himself out and Tommy not only really likes him, but also wants to make sure Evan doesn’t make the same mistakes he did.

Does that answer the question? Let me sum it up.

Tommy used sex to punish himself and those were his first real experiences with guys. So even now, in healthier relationships and with better mindsets, he doesn’t do the hookup game anymore and is very shy of having sex too soon. He doesn’t have sex without knowing and trusting the person.

Y’all I have no idea if this made sense, but this is literally the premise of a story in my brain.

#911 abc #9-1-1 #911 show #tommy kinard #911 season 7 #lou ferrigno jr #bucktommy #evan buckley #911 spoilers #tk6 answers #tk6 muses #911 meta #tw: mental health #tw: self loathing #tw: self destruction #read the tws

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writeforfandoms · 1 day

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The Name of the Wind 4

Find the series masterlist

Here we finally are continuing with this story! I'm trying to match up the timing on everything between these thee stories in the dragon riders 'verse. Yes, three. Our two special guests in this chapter will be leaving to their own story.

It'll be fun, I swear.

Warnings: Swearing, idiot in love, clueless reader, scheming riders, seriously the whole garrison is invested by now.

Word count: 1.8k

Dinner seemed nothing special, in the way that you'd become accustomed to meals here. There was the usual assortment of foods at every table, riders and staff settling down to eat.

Alejandro was at the table you'd unofficially labeled his - not in the center of the room quite, but still easy to get to. Some of the usual people were there already - Rodolfo and Marin both nodded to you.

The two new people were there as well, seated side by side across from Alejandro.

“Our guests for tonight,” Alejandro told you, motioning you to sit next to him. “Alex and Frank.”

You greeted them both, settling next to Alejandro. They'd both cleaned up since you saw them earlier, though Frank hadn't bothered to shave. You'd never seen them before, and you were curious as to how they got here, and how long they'd be here.

“You must be new here.” Frank eyed you, openly appraising.

“Yes,” you admitted, a little surprised.

“New rider?”

“Not exactly,” you hedged, on the border of being uncomfortable, and not sure why.

“She is a leather worker,” Alejandro answered smoothly, one knee pressing into yours under the table, his elbow gently jostling your arm. “Quite skilled, as well.”

You warmed under both the praise and the touches, shoulders relaxing even as you leaned ever so slightly into his space.

Frank held your gaze for a moment before he nodded. “Then we'll be seeing you around again.”

“Are you here often?” You took a tray from Alejandro, serving yourself food even as you glanced at the two men.

Alex shrugged, a secretive half-smile twitching his lips. “We come through every so often.”

You looked between the two, seeing clearly that this was some kind of joke. But Alejandro nudged your knee again under the table, and you didn't ask.

The conversation moved on from there, Rodolfo chiming in with daily reports. Another rider came over to talk to Alejandro for a few minutes, mostly ignoring Alex and Frank. They seemed content to be ignored, talking quietly to each other.

You squashed your curiosity back down and ate your dinner quietly.

Frank and Alex stood to leave in tandem, and Alejandro nodded to them.

“Who were they?” You asked very quietly once they'd left.

Alejandro hummed for a moment, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “You will see them from time to time,” he said slowly. “But you cannot ask what they do, or where they go. It is confidential.”

“Okay.” You could do that. No problem.

Well. Okay. You'd have to remind yourself not to ask, but you'd manage.

He looked down at you, amused. “You won't see them so often it will be a problem,” he assured you. “Don't fret.”

You chuckled. “Sure,” you agreed easily. “If you say so.”

Alejandro shook his head but smiled, getting to his feet. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” You watched him and Rodolfo walk out together, shoulders nearly pressed together.

The view was quite nice, after all.

Shaking your head at yourself, you cleared your place at the table and made your way back to your room. You had a little time before bed. Plenty of time to stuff your emotions back down.

You were still trying not to find Alejandro attractive… but it wasn't easy. He made it very difficult, in fact. Especially when he sought you out at meal times, and took you on a flight, and promised he wouldn't let harm come to you…

Really, how were you expected to not find him attractive?

You squished your face in your pillow to squeal, just a little bit.

The problem over the next few weeks wasn't work. It wasn't the dragons, as they had all learned that you were to be treated gently.

No. The problem was Alejandro.

He ate most meals with you. He took you on two more flights. He made a point of seeing you at least once each day.

He was distracting, but in the most pleasant way. Intriguing and courteous and funny.

He was a major problem.

You looked for him, almost automatically, every time you went to eat, or when you were in the dragons’ nesting area. Any time you heard his voice, you paused what you were doing to look.

Honestly, it was a bit ridiculous. You were embarrassed at yourself.

But you still looked.

One night after dinner, Alejandro asked if you'd take a walk with him. You agreed, heart fluttering.

“I will be gone a few days,” he said as the two of you strolled down empty hallways. “I need to go to the capital.”

“Oh.” You couldn't help the way your heart sank with disappointment.

“Rodolfo will be in charge while I'm gone,” he said, looking at you and away again. “It will only be a few days.”

“I hope you have fun?” It came out for too much of a question, and you grimaced at yourself.

He snorted. “I will not, but thank you. I dislike going, but I must sometimes.”

“Why do you dislike it?”

He shrugged. “Politics,” he answered dryly. “There is an overabundance of people who feel far too self-important.”

You laughed, unable to hold it in. “I'm sorry,” you managed, still giggling. “But the look on your face.”

He huffed, smiling. “It is never a hardship to make you laugh,” he murmured. “Is there anything you want from the capital?”

You blinked at him, taken completely by surprise. “I don't know.”

He eyed you for a moment before he nodded, just once. “I will find you something, then.”

You almost protested, except he turned to face you fully, two fingers under your chin tipping your face towards him. Your eyes went wide.

“I will think of you,” he promised, low and quiet. “I need to go, because I need to wake early. I will see you in a few days.” He leaned in, and for a wild moment you thought he'd kiss you. Your heart leapt and then pounded, lips parting ever so slightly.

But his lips landed on your cheek, soft and chaste. Your eyelids fluttered, a soft breath escaping you.

The two of you stood perfectly still for one moment. Then Alejandro stepped back, his fingers falling from your skin.

You watched him go, hand rising to touch the spot he'd just kissed.

You hadn't imagined that. He had really kissed your cheek.

Oh, you were way past trouble now. Now you were in deep.

You meandered back to your room, completely distracted and oblivious to the world around you, replaying those precious moments over and over again to make sure you remembered them.

You didn't sleep well, half-remembered dreams of flying then falling interrupting you through the night.

You were surprised when Marin sat with you at breakfast. She asked about your day, and seemed genuinely interested. Which was… weird, but okay.

But the weirdness didn't stop there.

Various riders popped in to your workshop throughout the day. Some just asked how you were doing, while some asked about bringing you things for repairs. One even brought you a canteen of water, saying she'd noticed yours was empty.

You were deeply, deeply confused.

But you didn't actually object.

Rodolfo gently herded you to the normal table at dinner, but he didn't try to make you talk. Just made sure you had food.

Alejandro left for a few days and the whole garrison went extremely weird.

Maybe they just needed some sleep. Or something. Maybe you needed sleep.

Except the next day passed in much the same manner. You hadn't had so much conversation… basically ever. And with so many people! Even one of the kitchen staff found you to ask if you had enough scrap leather to make a holder for a knife.

Which, of course, you did. Not that you'd tell her, the poor woman seemed easily flustered to begin with, but you weren't using scraps for this.

You were also debating between telling Alejandro the entire garrison went nuts while he was gone, or never mentioning any of this again.

You skipped breakfast the next day, sneaking some bread from the kitchen to tide you over until lunch. This, apparently, was a mistake, as what felt like half the garrison showed up at your workshop before lunch. Not all at once, thankfully, mostly alone with a few pairs or small groups showing up.

But still. Highly annoying while you were trying to work.

You were gearing up around lunch time to yell at the group of three hovering outside your door when a dragon trumpeted outside. All three riders perked up, and the youngest (and boldest) of them darted inside to grab you. You barely had time to yelp before the three were half-dragging you off, your feet barely keeping up.

Bright sunlight blinded you for a couple moments as they dragged you clear outside. But you felt the ground-shaking thump of a dragon landing.

You didn't even have time to ask before the three abandoned you. You nearly stumbled, but managed not to. Huffing, you shaded your eyes to look.

Your heart fluttered in your chest.

Caba stopped just in front of you, rumbling a friendly greeting to you, head lowering to breathe hot air on top of your head. You couldn't help but laugh a little, reaching up to pat his snout.

“You're here.” Alejandro sounded surprised but rallied quickly, throwing one leg over Caba's back and sliding down the big dragon's side. He landed easily, making you the teensiest bit jealous - you still nearly faceplanted every time.

“I am,” you agreed, a little perplexed but mostly just happy to see him. “How was your trip?”

He waved a hand, dismissing the question. “Uneventful. Not worth it, as usual.” He paused a moment before he smiled. “But I did find this.”

He produced a flower from nowhere, petals marbled pink and white.

“Oh, it's beautiful.” You smiled, leaning closer to see if the flower had any fragrance. It did, and it smelled wonderful too.

“It's for you.” Alejandro took one of your hands, curling your fingers delicately around the stem.

Your eyes blew wide and you jerked your gaze from the flower to him. He just smiled at you, warm and soft and so pleased.

Excited not-exactly-whispering behind you made both of you turn to look. Alejandro's smile dropped and he huffed softly.

“Excuse me, I have some riders to speak with,” he growled, much less happy now. But he paused and cupped your cheek, leaning in close to whisper, “I'll see you later.” And then he strode off, like a man on a warpath.

You dropped your gaze back to your flower and hid your smile behind it, inexplicably giddy.

#the name of the wind #dragon riders au #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #f!reader

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vibratingskull · 2 days

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Yandere!Thrawn x F!reader chapter 10

Yandere AU - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9

Tags : Yandere behaviors (duh), gaslighting, masturbation

You wince in pain. You frown and sigh frustrated at your casts. Those wretched things get in the way of absolutely everything! You cannot wait to get rid of them and go back to your former life!

For Thrawn too it would be better... A Grand Admiral should be focusing on war and not losing time over a helpless officer. You are sure his patience must start to run thin with you.

In fact you are absloutely sure of it! It has been weeks since you are in his suite and you still need those stupid casts, forcing him to help you in everything. At least you manage to eat by yourself now, that’s little but still a win.

You sigh again, your eyes falling back on your drawing folder once again. Drawing with your non-dominant hand is a pain in the ass and the result suffers so much for it. You observe the drawing you’re currently tracing, pursing your lips. That is not good!

You had to abandon portraits and models studies to focus on more abstract figures and forms. You’re not exactly vibing with that style but you’re starting to get the gist of it. You raise your pencil, wondering what to trace now when you start hearing a loud noise coming from the living room of Thrawn’s suite.

What the hell is he doing?

You lay your feet on the floor and tentatively try to stand up. You are trembling terribly but manage to stand on your two feet, although uncomfortably! You jump one step to the side, taking support on the bed, and another one, and another one, and another!

Clumsily, you cross the bedroom to finally reach the door, taking support on the wall or furnitures. You take a second to take back your breath, joy slowly florishing in your heart. This is not optimum but you succeeded in moving from point A to point B all alone! Maybe you are starting to mend after all!

The door slides open and you pass your head inside. Thrawn is kneeling close to the sofa, a little machine in hand. You clumsily jump towards the big table in the middle of the room to change point of you. Thrawn is in his black tank top, his pristine white jacket folded on one of the chair. He is screwing something in the wall, but you cannot see what.

“What are you doing, sir?” You shout over the hellish sound of the drill. Thrawn instantaneously stops, raising an eyebrow at you over his shoulder.

First off : what’s with that ‘sir’ bullshit? Aren’t you on a first name basis? Second : What are you doing in his living room? Since when can you move all by yourself? Is your time together up already?

“What is it for?” You repeat, jumping funny towards him so see. You lean forward to discover a little metal hoop screwed to the wall. You look at him with a silent question in your eyes.

“This is prevention.” He responds enigmatically, his unbothered expression already back on, “Just in case.”, “In case for what?” You ask smiling. He hooks two fingers in the metal contraption and pulls on it to test it. It doesn’t even tremble. He nods satisfied and stands back up, “Do not worry about it. I hope it will never come to use, but one is never too safe.” He closes the matter, “How did you came here?”

You smile broadly, “I jumped! It sends unpleasant vibrations through my leg cast but it’s manageable.” Thrawn looks at you up and down with a closed expression “You should not do that, you will fall.”, “But you wouldn’t need to carry me everywhere!” you counter, “Until you break a bone again.” He finishes.

You sulk, lowering your head. You hoped he would be happy for you. He is right of course, but he could have let you savor this little victory. Everything would have been simpler if you had a wheelchair but Thrawn argued you could not navigate it properly in the suite. And faire, it would be difficult.

But still...

“May I see your latest piece?” Thrawn asks, his tone infinitely softer. You raise your gaze to him, not understanding. “Your drawing folder.” He explains, gesturing to the object in your hand. You didn’t realized you still had it!

“It’s not good.” You warn. “Nonsense, I am sure it is delightful as all your other art pieces.”he retorts. You flush, hearing him qualify your stupid drawing as ‘art pieces’. “Those are silly doodles, nothing more.” you chuckle, embarassed. “Allow me to contradict you. As an art connoisseur I can recognize talent when I see it. And your art shines to my eyes like any grand master work.”

You clear you throat, heat flourishing in your cheeks, “Will you allow me?” He asks again. You press the folder against your chest, still uneasy to let Thrawn rummage through your sketches.

He tilts his head at your silence, “Is there a problem?” He invastigates. “No... Not really.” you mumble. “Perfect! So can I?” He insists.

He never loses an occasion to rummage through your drawings, especially since he entrapted you with him in his suite. He delighted himself in your evolving view of his personhood through your abstract shapes. He picked upon the fact that you started to question yourself more than his actions lately, much to his pleasure.

He doesn’t deprive himself of gaslighting you into letting him access your folder. Today is no different.

“I suppose you can...” You back down and he gently takes it off your hand. He wins again!

“What are you doing here by the way?” You ask, realizing he should be on the bridge at this hour. “It is my day off.” He explains patiently. “Oh!” You exclaim, “The legendary Grand Admirals’ days off, seen only every six months if lucky enough!” You joke. “Indeed, they are quite rare.” He nods, “But that only makes them more valuable. I shall take my time to properly appreciate and admire your pieces once I am done with those hooks.”, “You’re going to screw more?” you investigate curious. “All over the suite, especially around the bed.”

You ponder what use those little hooks would have, especially near a bed but Thrawn can do watherver he wants in his suite. You are not going to question him for something so inconsequential.

“Do you want a treat?” He asks out of the blue. Your purse your lips, thinking for a split second, Thrawn proposing a treat? Unheard off! But you are a gourmand through and through! “Why not?” You accept.

He gently helps you sit on the sofa and brings you a chocolate cake. You frown with a light smile, “You have such treats in your fridge?”, “I know you enjoy a good cake so I always keep one at arm’s reach.” He simply responds like it was obvious. “Oh... Thank you...” You flush again, “You are welcome Ch’acah.”, “What does that means exactly?” you tilt your head as you gingerly takes the plate off his hand to not drop the precious cake. “It means friend in Cheuhn.” He lies with his most insolent smile. “Can I call you Ch’acah, then?” You ask with an elated smile. “I would be delighted, Ch’acah.” He grins, dark satisfaction growing in his heart, “It would be an honor.”

You nod with glee before focusing on your cake. As you eat it you hear Thrawn continuing screwing hooks all around the suite. You savor your cake like the rare treat that it is on the Chimaera, taking your sweet time, letting each bites melt into your mouth. You are only in the middle of the cake when Thrawn reappears in the living room.

‘’Do you mind if I exercise ?’’ he asks you as he approaches his exercise bench in front of you. ‘’Not at all, Ch’acah !’’ you grin.

He doesnt show it but his heart is pounding in his chest when you call him ‘love’ in his mothertongue. It just sounds so …right! He had lovers in his past that called him ‘Ch’acah’ too, but none ever got this reaction out of him.

You are just that superior to anyone else to him !

He simply smiles at your innocent enthusiasm and decides to offer you a little spectacle for it…

Out of nowhere, Thrawn takes out his shirt, revealing his perfectly carved chest and you almost choke on your bite. He throws it somewhere in the room and prepares his bench while tou cough your lungs out.

‘’Are you alright ?’’ he cannot help but tease you. You nod hurriedly, a fist pressed against your mouth. He pretends to go back to his preparation, hiding his satisfied grin to you. You are and remain a woman who appreciate masculine bodies, and his body is particularly well made. He took great care of it for decades after all. He flexes his well defined muscles to your view, pretending to warm them up to tease and confuse you.

He has been the ‘good friend’ long enough, it is time he becomes something more in your eyes ! Something powerful and irresistible, a man on top of his game.

You do not know where to look. He never undressed in front of you before, you were so unprepared by this sudden indecence from him. You’ve seen plenty of men’s chest but Thrawn always favored his modesty. Seeing his chest exposed so suddenly like that is almost…lecherous.

You slap yourself mentally. He can expose himself if wants to, you are in his suite after all. What is it to you anyway? You bite down another bite of the cake, trying to look at absolutely everything else but him. But the blue of his skin is so deep and vibrant … Your eyes are inextricably attracted towards him.

He finishes his warm up nonchalantly, flexing his wonderfully defined shoulders and shoulderblades, letting you appreciate the glory of his back.

With a discreet and quick glance at you he notes satisifed that the heat of your cheeks is rising, such as the heat between your thighs.

Good.

Excellent even.

He lays down on his bench and starts his rep like you weren’t here, focusing in his breath while you are almost drooling on your cake with that spectacle. You bite the inner of your cheeks, trying to only look at your delicious cake but you feel your mouth and throat going dry before such view. You gulp with difficulties, Thrawn is terribly well made you realize...

You noticed before the elegance and perfection of his face but now you are forced to admit the rest of his body may be a paragon just as much. You swallow your bite slowly while he keeps showcasing his muscular body with different exercises, your eyes betraying you and always raising back to ogle him as discreetly as you can.

You chastise yourself. Thrawn is a friend! He is your Ch’acah! How dare you ogle at him in such a way?! He innocently follows his training routine and you cannot help yourself but sexualizing him.

But he is so well made it is so hard to not stare...

You instinctively press your thighs together, trying to silence your core slowly waking up at such perfection. His body is just...

Glorious

You have no other word than glorious. Suddenly your flesh and body understand why the Captain was lusting after him. It is really hard not to when you are subjected to such a vision.

Get a fucking grip, (Y/n)! Friends don’t do that to each other!

“Is there a problem Ch’acah?” Thrawn’s deep melodious voice snaps you out of your trance and you realize that despite your best efforts your eyes where fixed on him again! “N-No!” You immediately responds forcing them back on your plate. “You were fixing me so intently.” He continues.

He takes great satisfaction at your startled expression. Of course he saw how difficult it was for you to not look at him. As it should! He wants you to realize what you could have if you just succombed to temptation, what delights he could give you, what he refused to so many people before you but is ready to give today.

Just.for.you.

Would it be anyone else but you he would be greatly displeased at being observed like that, but he wants you confused and drooling over him.

And you are doing so great right now!

You wail in your mind. Dear Maker he noticed you checking him out!

“I was just observing your technique.” You reply in a heartbeat, “It is quite different than mine and I might experiment with it once I can resume training.”

Nice save, he will give you that. “I can teach you all of my techniques if you wish.” He proposes politely, “It will take several hours but we are alone here, we will not be disturbed.” He lets his Chiss accent peak through, rolling his ‘r’ like a purring feline, like a promise, sounding exotic and lyrical.

You swallow your bite once again, nodding weakly as you desperatly tries to rationalize this entire situation. He doesn’t miss how your thighs muscles clench and unclench repeatedly, how your core shines brighter in his eyes now that all your warm blood is flooding to your southern muscles... He cannot help but lick his lips a that detail.

He lifts his weights with ease. He feels powerful under your gaze, pure and raw strenght running in his veins and mucles as you observe him. Is it childish of him? Most certainly. But he cannot help it. You are the anchor in his life, your mood dictates his entire course of actions, no wonder an admirative glance from you would boost his power and feed his ego. “Do not deprive yourself from looking, you will learn a great deal of my techiques by observation alone.” He nonchalantly invites.

“Okay...” You reply weakly, at war with yourself and your morality. Even if he gave you his consent to observe him it doesn’t sit well with you. You cannot help but cheking him out instead of platonically detailing his methods as you pretended.

He breathes deeply and longly between each movement and you cannot help yourself but wondering if he would sound like that in bed... Stop that immediately!

He knows very well what he is doing. He knows the of turmoil raging inside of you. Serves you right! This is what you get for bringing him to his knees every single day. “Focus on my breathing, respiration is an integral part of training.” He teases you when he sees you closing your eyes to not see him anymore. You shudder at his sounds, as they invade your ears and mind with dirty thoughts.

The heat signals of your face and sex are through the roof just as he hoped and planned. Good.

He finishes his training session as you ostensibly tries to look away, but he is not quite done with you yet. He wants to keep toying with you a bit more. You let out a breath of relief when you realizes he stopped. Now he is going to put back his shirt on and go take a shower and leave you alone to calm down! What a relief! Phew!

But as you blink you see him approaching you. He leans forward you, getting dangerously close.” Do not move Ch’acah.” He murmures.

Is he... fixing your lips?!

Before you can do or say anything, his hand come cupping your boiling hot cheek and his thumb very gently brushes your lips, pulling them slightly appart. You cannot help the gasp escaping you. “You have cream on your lips.” He simply indicates just above a whisper. He takes out his thumb now full of cream and licks it thouroughly without breaking eyes contact with you.

You are so shocked you cannot move or blink to save your life. He lets out his thumb out of his mouth with a sounding pop and a smile. “Very sweet and tasty.” He grins lightly.

You are hit by lightning and jumps on your two feet in a hurry. He looks at you with a raising brow, waiting for an explanation. “It was delicious, thank you very much! Now I think I need a nap!” You precipitadly announce, flushing terribly. “Allow me to escort you to bed.” He straightnes his back, towering over you with his height. “No, no,no,no!” you immediately stop him, “I’ll go by myself!” and you start jumping away in the most inelegant way he ever saw. You can’t have him carrying you to bed after such a spectacle or you will sponteanously combust!

He chuckles under his breath, satisfied with himself. At least until he hears a loud thud and realizes he was indeed right : you fell face first in the dirt.

“Ch’acah! Are you alright?” He is at your side immediately, kneeling down to help you. What a stupid idea to jump around with a leg and an arm in a cast! He makes you roll on your back and hears your laugh.

“I am so clusmy sometimes!” You laugh, more scared than hurt. He releases his breath, relieved. “Let me carry you. He decides, “Just help me on my feet an I am good to go!” You argue with an chuckle. He stares at you coldly, his grip on your shoulder tightening.

The message his clear.

“Alright, Grand Admiral...” You submit, your laugh dying down and your gaze low. “That is better.” he closes the matter. He scoops your bruised body and lift you without any difficulties, your head is rigth on his large, muscular pec and his musk invades your nose instantaneously making you squirm embarassed in his arms. He carries you easily to the bedroom and very gently lays you down the matress, “I will take a thorough look at your bruises during the bath.” he announces his sentence.

Oh no...

“It’s alright! I didn’t even hurt my head!” You try to get out of this with a light chuckle, trying to ease the atmosphere. But he looks as dead serious as ever, pretending to modestly pulling on the little dress he chose for you to falsely cover your thighs. “Permit me to doubt your judgement, the groan you made when you hit the floor was really telling. Do not worry, I will dress any wound I will find.”, “I swear it’s fine! I don’t feel any pain or-”

He suddenly spins his head towards yours, bringing it dangerously close and seizing your chin in his fist, red shiny eyes fixated on yours making you shut up instantly in surprise and fear. “Will you ever stop making things difficult?” He demands with an icy cold tone, “I know what I am doing. The less difficult you are the quicker you will mend.” His eyes are dark, shooting you with his red glare. You can only gulp.

“I am sorry... Sir.” He looks at you black for several more seconds before letting his carefully crafted expression melt into a false sympathetic smile, “I am sorry Ch’acah. But I take your healing journey seriously, I feel partly responsible for what happened to you. Just let me help you in return, alright?” he intentionaly softens his tone to ease your nerves. “Alright, sir...” you abdicate.

“Please” he pulls the cover over your body to tuck you in good, “We are friend, (Y/n). Call me Ch’acah.” he presses. “Okay... Ch’acah.” you whispers on eggshells.

“Good girl.” He leans forward to very gently kiss your forehead, brushing his lips like butterflies on your skin. You wince at the petname, remembering that Chiss are more liberal with them than humans according to Thrawn’s words. Once again you get a whiff of his masculine musk, making your head spin again and your core contract demanding sweet attention. “I will take a shower. Do not hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

You grasp his wrist to hold him back as he raise back to head to the shower. “Well, I know I already asked and I insisted before but... Could you give me back a comlink?” You ask.

He interiorly sighs. He managed until now to shut down your demand for a comlink, but as more time pass, the more legitimate your demand gets. To make you wait he lended you a datapad, but making sure you couldn’t communicate with anybody with it. “Why would you want a comlink?” He asks innocently like he doesn’t understand, sitting on the edge of the bed. “To speak with people, obviously! I want to speak to my family, to Karyn too. It gets lonely here when you are on the bridge.” I also need to keep myslef inform on the current mission of the Chiamera.” You argue.

“Comlinks are forbidden during remission.” He counters, “You should take this as an opportunity to meditate and recenter your focus on your discipline. A comlink would only distract you.” You frown, wrinkling your nose “I am not a child alright? I can have discipline and a comlink at the same time!”

He shakes his head with a sorry expression, “The Imperial protocols are clear : no comlink during remission.” You groan and let yourself fall on the pillow, frustrated, “Captain Faro is terribly busy at the moment.” He gently explained, “She volunteered to take on your workload while you are healing, she has very little time for a friendly chat. But I can greet her on your behalf, she would be relieved to hear you feel better.” He diplomatically proposes. Which is a complete lie of course, Faro heard about your death from himself, something she is still brooding over.

“And my familly? Did anyone warned them I was hurt? That I am better now?” you insist. “We do not signify families about every single wound an enlisted suffers Ch’acach, you know it.” He recalls you with just enough condescension in the the tone to still be subtle. You sigh, “This was not a simple wound, they have the right to know!”, “You will heal and walk out of it like it was nothing, why do you want them to worry? To them you are striving right now.”, “Am I striving to you?” You clap back, more and more annoyed. He slightly bows his head to you, “I mispoke, my apologies. My point is ; you will soon heal completely, there is no use to worrying them now. But I can transmit them a message from you if you wish.”

You exhale through your nose, “Forget it. You are right, no need to warn them now. I will speak with them during my leave.” He gently brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “You need rest, Ch’acah. Sleep soundly, I will remain in the adjacent room if you need anything.” You nod and he enters the bathroom. You roll to the side when you hear the water running, your mind in ebullition.

The entire bedroom smells like Thrawn and his delicious musk... Making your head spin dangerously. When you close your eyes to actually try to sleep like you pretended you will the vision of his mighty body imposes itself to you, making you shudder in shame.

How dare you do that to your friend? Sexualising him like that! He saw you naked everyday (to your horror) since you are in his suite but he never was troubled by it. As he said to you he appears completely desensitized to naked bodies.

You sigh, trying to get some sleep but the idea of Thrawn’s naked body next door is setting you ablaze, to your dismay. You wail, remembering that he will bath you once again and sleep in the same bed as you because you are so goddamn cold every night despite him checking the temperature each evening.

Nothing will get spared to you in this trial...

Far away from your confusion and guilt, Thrawn is enjoying his shower, imagining back your weight in his arms, the plump of your exposed thighs when you fell, the thinness of your human skin, the smoothness and infinite softness of it... He wanted to lick you so badly, every crook and crannies of your fragile body. A wretched smiles come stretches his lips. You would slap him across the face if he ever qualified you as fragile to your face

And he would surely adore that...

He sighs, letting hot water rolling on his thick Chiss skin. He wants you to dig your nails deep into his flesh so badly! To claw his back entirely, he wants to wear the scars of your passion in his flesh. He caresses his lips, remembering the plumpness of your own when he brushed them with his thumb. You were so surprised by his action you said absolutely nothing, letting him do as he pleased.

He feels fire igniting in his sex as he remembers your heavy gaze checking him out. You tried to be subtle about it, but nothing escapes him. Ever. He lets his hand brushing his pecs to slowly going down his abs, feeling the powerful muscles rolling under his blue skin, retracing the path of your gaze on his body. He lightly chuckles as he saw your flushing cheek getting worse as you couldn’t help yourself but gaze longingly at him. His hand reaches his groin and he takes it firmly in his palm, gently playing with his tip, toying with himself.

He always hated the way his past relationships complimented him on his physic, he remembers how he used to sleep with them in his clothes to not expose himself to their undeserving gazes.

Now that he knows true passion for you he came to the realisation he never was truly in love with anyone else before, that none really catched his eyes, it was more of a way for him to get relief without real, deep sentiments from his part. He admits, now looking back, that the feeling of dirtiness he felt after every night with his former partners was not ‘normal’. That he just convinced himself he had to go throught that to not appear more... Out of place that he always has been.

He is also naturally curious and wanted to understand, to try for himself, see what the fuss was about “couples” and “relationship” and “sex”. How disappointed he was, was that all? That was the things getting people crazy about? He remembers having to force himself to go to bed with his ‘lovers’ to get them off his back and being at peace, or they started to complain they were “neglected”. But he couldn’t help it, the act and the sentiments were just so utterly uninteresting and repulsive to him. He did derive pleasure from sex, but it definitely lacked something to truly be worth anything in his eyes. And even though he definitively appreciated the companionship and admiration his past lovers gave him, he now knows it wasn’t love on his part and he hated when they started to get “too” attached, too lovey dovey with him, it just got under his skin and when he was in their arms the only thing he could think about was the moment they would let go. So after several terribly unfruitful attempts he just threw everything to the bin and pursued his career and mission without a single look back. And he thrived, free of this burden.

Until he met you.

When he started to get interested in you everything became clear, obvious, evident... They simply weren’t you, his darling, his other half, his intended, his soulmate. He had to cross the entire chaos to finally meet you and understand what “love” truly meant but it was definitely worth it.

With you he wants to try everything! Every fancies, every kinks, every dates, every whims! Absolutely everything! He knows you would never disappoint him.

He sniffs in disdain thinking back at his now dead Captain, he spent a full hour scrubbing his entire body to wash her off him after she imposed herself on him! It was just so disgusting...

He deeply inhales. She is dead now, and she had it coming. He should focus on you, laying next door, so close but also so far away at the same time...

He gasps, desperantly wanting to feel your smaller hand around his girth. Will you ogle his cock with hunger like you just did his chest or recoil in fear of his size? Will you drool at the idea of having it in your mouth or panick at the possibility of it entering your little pussy? Will you cry of pleasure or pain when he will take you for the first time? Either way he will gladly lick your tears away, whispering sweet nothing in your ears to ease the tension and help you relax.

He is so much more taller and larger than the average human and Chiss man, you will absolutely strangle his lenght in your tight little pussy no matter the time he takes to prepare you. What will you prefer as roleplay to get you nice and wet? He really hopes you will let him eat you out! He craves it so badly he sometimes wonders where he find the will to not jump on you right here and there...

He closes his eyes as he starts fisting his cock, imagining your soft hand instead of his own. What kind of pace would you set? Will you play with his tip first or getting into it right away? Will you squeeze his lenght tight here and there or gently caressing it like a precious thing? Will you gently kiss his cheek and lips while giving him a handjob or will you avert your gaze and hide your face in the crook of his neck?

So many delicious possibilities, so many different ravishing scenarios...

He greets his teeth as he accelerates his back and forth movement of his hand, chasing his pleasure. He doesn’t have your scrupules and avidly masturbates at the simple thought of you. He doesn’t even need a lecherous vision, sometime just painting your gorgeous eyes in his mind gets him hot and bothered, carrying him to completion with ease.

But nothing gets him going as the thought of him getting handcuffed to the bed and you riding him as you wish, imposing him your own pace and your own desires. He wants your hand squeezing his throat until he looses consciousness or slapping him across the face. He wants you to dominate him entirely, looking down at him in all your glory... Is that too much to ask? He wants you to gag him, to chain him up, to degradate him until he is just a puddle of mess and completely on edge.

He never accepted his former lovers to take the lead. They never deserved to see that vulnerable part of him, he never wanted to reveal it to any of them.

But you...

For you he will relinquish all his powers and kneel before you to kiss your feet!

He gasps as the pleasure courses though his entire body, fisting his cock harshly. He lets silent pleas escaping his lips, calling your name in a mute prayer as he agressively caress his dick. He takes support on the wet wall with one hand, the steam invaded the entire bathroom making it almost impossible to breath but he keeps going, panting with desire. He greets his teeth, imagining you naked in his Grand Admiral jacket, seating proudly on his command chair on the bridge, allowing him to lick your glorious little pussy in front of the entire crew. He rolls his hand in a fist and bites down his knuckle to silence himself. He wants you to force his face against your sex, suffocating him entirely but he would work so well on you, he will docilely obey your every commands. He envisions himself rising his gaze to met yours, full of disdain and contempt for him...

He shudders, like hit by lightnings and comes at that vision. He comes all over his large hand, spilling his seed in the stall as he gasps, breathless.

If only it was your hand... If only it was inside your sweet pussy...

He lingers on that last thought...’If only it was inside your sweet pussy?’

He observes his seed smeared across his palm, absolutely fascinated like it was the first time he saw it. Yes... Why not after all? Why not inside your sweet little pussy? What if... You became pregnant? Round with his baby... He feels his breath catching in his throat, he likes that thought.

He likes it A LOT.

He envisions with new plump curves adorning your gorgeous body, your belly heavy with a baby. HIS baby. He imagines you walking around his suite with your proeminent belly, asking him for help because it gets in your way. He will need to satisfy every one of your needs and satisfy you throroughly to ensure a healthy baby!

He can do that! Bend over backwards to please you and your babies, no questions asked! He shivers in anticipation at that simple thought.

He realizes that this idea will not leave him anymore, no matter what he will do.

He brings his hand to his lips and he gives a little lick at his palm, tasting his semen.

Salty.

Would it be to your taste? Would it be compatible with your organism? Are Chiss and humans compatible?

Well, he has only one way to know it, doesn’t he?

He takes back his breath, letting the water washing away his seed and finishes to clean himself. He slicks his hair back perfectly in front of the mirror, like absolutely nothing happened and takes out your stolen toothbrush of its secret spot to brush his teeth with it, savoring your taste in his mouth.

As he exit the steaming bathroom he discovers you napping. You did end up going to sleep after all. He approaches silently, looming over your smaller form, his shining red gaze like a predator... He leans forward, devored by curiosity.

Do you still have a scar on your neck?

He pushes your hair out of the way to reveal your fragile neck to his vision, he lets the tip of his fingers traveling on your skin until he locates the thin scar let by the blade he stole from you. He gently caresses it, the taste of your blood invading his mouth once again. He buries his head in the crook of your neck and give a long, sloppy lick at your scar making you squirm and moan in your sleep.

He caresses your cheek with his knuckles tenderly. Oh how much he loves you... Sometimes he feels like he gone absolutely crazy.

And maybe he did...

He gently kisses your cheek and leaves you to sleep undisturbed. He has your new drawing to study and dissect, he will have the pleasure to bathe you later down the day...

@Bluechiss @blueninjablade3 @al-astakbarstakbar @thrawnspetgoose @readinglistfics @twilekchiss @pencil_urchin @ineedazeezee @mssbridgerton @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @Cortisolcosplay @obbicrystaleo @germie2037

#yandere au #thrawn x you #thrawn x reader #thrawn x f!reader #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #mitth'#mitth'raw'nuruodo #thrawn smut #fanfic #vibratingskull

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sourle · 1 day

Text

Perturbed

YE I SAID THIS WEEK IS OUT SO YEH, it's only the intro. But this is just for a test and I am learning how to write a good story with this. Idk if i will make it a series. And yes it is called Perturbed. This is for a test!

The cold blew around the atmosphere, nipping at your already cold skins. Small snow particles hit your slightly cracked snow goggles, making it even more difficult to see.

“Why does it have to be this way?” you thought, lifting up your mask warming up your cold nose.

Being forced at the frontline at a young age takes a toll on your mental health. Your body is worn and tired out from the stress given on you. Hence why you're slow and fall behind from the group that's accompanying you.

“Yo, [Name]! C'mon dude, the gang is going to first base.” Hearing the uplifting voice pulled you out of your daze. Their bright horns stood out amongst the dull attires given to the forces alongside the iconic cocky grins. The dirty fluff around their neck is a part of the blackrock coat that's given to us after we're sent out to patrol.

“Comin’!” You shout back as you begin to run up to the group, Slowing down your pace to match with the demon before.

The snow lightly scrunches under your boots as you walk side to side with them.

“What were you thinking back there? You look really lost.” He spoke, glancing at you. “I'm just thinking about the war, Cila. Nothing much.”

He hums, nodding his head in understanding. “The war eh? Don't think about it much tho.. it could stress you out further." His kind reassuring voice always warms you up. The way he spoke is like he's giving advice to his little siblings.

“Alright, I.. I won't think much of it.” You're glad to have Cila as your friend. Closest friend even. Maybe because he's the only one you ever stuck around with. The others never linger long enough.

Soon enough the crew arrived at the first base. Parking the D7E23 snowcat into the garage reserved for the vehicle. One of the main soldiers in the base greets and guides the crew to a room with many bunk beds.

The room looks a bit dusty, it seems like no one has used it for a month or so. Some of the bunk beds even lack a mattress.

Not wanting to sleep on the floor this time. You quickly rush to a bunk bed that only has the top bed and a mattress so you won't bother with a teammate who would get annoyed at you.

“Looks like we'll be sleeping uncomfortably here..”

“Yeah dude, that guy is really creepy.. like crazy creepy!” You overheard one of your teammates cutting out your thoughts of complaining. You're not one to eavesdrop, but this one seems to pique your interest.

“I heard he uses people as an experiment.” The other one replied to their fellow friend. “And he usually buries himself in his room.” “I even heard someone scream from his room and he actually was laughing maniacally!”

A third buts into the conversation. You wander off to yourself, watching as the group continues to talk about this mysterious scientist. From their story, you assume this person is insane. Thinking of the man laughing crazily as someone is in pain shivers you.

“Alright all of you! Time to rest, I want all of you to wake up early at 3 tomorrow!” you were pulled out of your terance of thoughts to the sound of the one in charge of the team.

Some groans could be heard and instantly got dismissed by the supervisor. As the supervisor left, everyone began to get on their bed. Time passed and the soldiers fell into slumber.

Turning and flipping on your sleep didn't help to calm your mind. Jolting up, your breath is heavy and quick as your eyes scan through the room. The sound of a bed creak was heard from your side as you snapped your head towards the source. It was one of your teammates. Not just teammates.. best friend.

“[Name]?” Their tired voices call you out, catching your attention. “Why are you still up late?” They question, yawning quietly.

Your breath shallows as Cila turns to you. “N.. nothing.. I just woke up from a nightmare.” You whispered, rubbing your left arm as you down at the rough fabrics of the blanket.

“..If you say so.

“... [Name]?” The sound of the creaking bed frame reaches your ear as Cila lets their legs hang on the edge of the bed facing you. “Yeah?”

“do you.. have any dreams or… life goals if this war is over?” The question caught you off guard. Never have you thought about the future, fearing things won't end well for you and everyone.

“.. I don't know.. what about you?”

You responded, your voice sounded unsure. You can't help but feel scared to even think about the end of the war. Will it even end?

“i.. would dream to have a nice life, maybe a family as an extra.” they sighed dreamily, resting their face in their hands. “No shot, you can't even get a partner.” you chuckled quietly at him.

“hey! Maybe one day, I'll show you and rub it all over your face!” he whispered shouts with glare at you. “Whatever,”

Silence overtook the cold night air. You never noticed how cold it is until now. Cila shivers as he goes back under the blanket, settling in to stop himself from freezing.

“Hey, can you promise me something?” you finally broke the ringing in your ears, looking up at Cila with a down expression.

“What's up?” He looks back at you, holding that same warm gaze he Always carries.

“Never leave me.”

“.. i promise, i would never leave my best friends.”

The same gaze has turned cold, the expressionless face stares back at your Perturbed one. Small sniffles escape your lips as you hold close to half of your friend's body.

The sounds of explosions and guns fire have gone closer to a silent ringing. A scream rings in before you get pulled by someone. you gasped as you let go of the body in reflex.

You didn't care who had just pulled you away from them, just watched as the cold body slowly got buried by the snow, slowly fading in the distance. And slowly you closed your eyes, succumbing to the cold.

#lemon rambles #phighting #x reader #phighting x reader #perturbed lmn #lemon writes #test

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subwaytostardew · 2 days

Note

Will we need to start a new save for this mod? Or for the adoptable Joltik mod?

Adoptable Joltik can be added in at anytime. As for Subway to Stardew, it also can be added at any time. We're working on editing where their house spawns and instead giving them a mini-map to station themselves in for better compatibility (also just having their home station be less ugly).

Previously, we just plopped their house where some trees used to be but well... You would need to use the Reset Terrain Features mod for clean-up.

As for content, it assumes that you're starting a new save so they send letters announcing their arrival on Summer 3rd (when the Railroad opens). Ingo's letter arrives on Spring 1 (mostly just to check if things are working since nothing regarding submas happens for an entire season).

Emmet's arrives on Summer 2nd (and he's a little bitter about how unreliable the Ferngill postal service is as a result).

They're also quite cold to you during the winter as their 0-heart lines are written under the assumption that you ignored them for at least two seasons (and didn't just skip to year 2 like how I usually do when testing...).

That said! Winter 0-heart dialogue under the read-more!

▷ Station Steward Thylak

🥶 Winter 0-Heart Dialogue 🥶

@ - Farmer’s name

◇──◆──◇──◆

▲ Ingo ▲

"winter_Mon":

"People have said I am quite difficult to ignore due to the volume of my enthusiasm. You, esteemed passenger, have surprised me."

"winter_Tue":

"Emmet says that it is difficult to trust people... Though I did not want to at first, I now feel as if I must agree... we have been slighted by too many."

"Surely, you wouldn’t confirm that belief... would you?"

"winter_Wed":

"It has been a year... We have been working on this project for yet another year... and you rarely- if ever- took the time to converse with me."

"May I ask what has changed your tracks? You confuse me greatly..."

"winter_Thu":

"You have been... avoiding me? M-may I ask why?" "People have told me before that I am quite stiff... That is why I try to change the way I present myself. I try to express my enthusiasm verbally so that people can understand how I feel despite my face betraying it. I know I smile... at l-least I try to..."

"I-is that why you've been avoiding me?"

"AH... WHY AM I EVEN DISCUSSING THIS WITH YOU?!"

"I-I need a moment to sort my schedule....."

"winter_Fri":

"I-if I have done anything to... e-err... have displeased you in any way... I-I apologize for my misconduct..."

"winter_Sat":

"Am I really so difficult to approach that you have avoided myself for such a duration of time? For what reason have you averted your tracks from my station?"

"Did I perhaps come across as intimidating? I made an effort to not come across as such during that time... Now, I feel as if those efforts went to waste."

"winter_Sun":

"....."

[Ingo looks to be nervously and meticulously tugging at his uniform sleeves. He seems uncomfortable around you.]

◇──◆──◇──◆

▽ Emmet ▽

"winter_Mon":

"I am Emmet... you are now trying to get to know me. Why?"

"I do not trust you... even if you are helping... Maybe one day. Or not....."

"winter_Tue":

"... You picked a verrrrry weird time to try to talk to me. I'm busy right now."

"winter_Wed":

"......."

"..........."

"You wouldn’t be interested in trains. Especially a station like this."

"winter_Thu":

"I am here. It took you too long to notice that. You are verrrrrrrrry dense.

"I don’t know why I keep trying.",

"winter_Fri":

"...... I am Emmet..."

"Are you allergic to me? I know I missed the first spring here. But you did not have to ignore me."

"At least I try to talk to people first. Sometimes. You did not talk to me at all. Now you are."

"winter_Sat":

"I am- no. I am halting my tracks. What is my name? You never talked to me. Now you are. So. What is my name? Do you even remember?"

"winter_Sun":

".........."

"...... Why are you talking to me now? This is not your standard operating procedure."

"... It’s been a year. Leave me alone."

[Emmet refuses to speak to you.]

#mail car connecting line #dialogue lines #Remaking the house area right now

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arashi-no-saxlphone · 13 days

Note

whats your opinion on asuka r kreutz

Buddy. Oh man. Either you know me and went on anon to enable me (in which case, thank you) or you're newer here and haven't seen me cry about Guilty Gear's saddest wettest cat yet.

I fucking adore Asuka R Kreutz. I think he's one of the most tragic and complex characters in Guilty Gear. I was gonna put "Well-written" too buuuut... it's hard to track down clear answers for some of the stuff that covers his time with Freddy and Aria as scientists and so I generally extrapolate what feasibly happened to the best of my ability based on what we have. (I am by no means a full-on expert, but I know enough to tell you this man does not deserve all the flack he gets).

In general, I find Asuka to be an immensely tragic and complicated man who at his core, just didn't want things to change and didn't want to lose his only and most dear friends in the whole world. Every single thing he has ever done was fueled by one of two things - his curiosity (which you can consider a flaw, as it often by his own account causes him to neglect right and wrong) or his deep love for Frederick and Aria (I find this to be his driving force for most of his actions in the story of Guilty Gear, right up until shit becomes so absolutely fucked that he has to spend most of his time trying to fix everything that goes wrong and banking on Sol to come through for him as a warrior). Asuka is the embodiment of the phrase "The road to hell is paved with good intentions" and that's probably why in lore he's labelled as "The Devil" in addition to "The Gearmaker."

When Aria gets sick, he suggests putting her in cryosleep until they can cure her disease. She refuses because she doesn't want to miss out on her time with Frederick. "Ok," he says, "well I can do something about that so please agree." And she agrees. And Asuka makes Sol a Gear and fucking immortal without telling him. Then all that crazy bullshit that kickstarts the crusades happens and Sol has to kill Aria because Asuka made her into Justice. This part is fucked up. It's a major fuckup on Asuka's part. In a drama CD, it's highlighted how important Aria's humanity and personhood is to her, and Asuka takes that away when he turns her into Justice. "What's the justification then?"

When Asuka found out that the government was going use their research to create gears as weapons and use them for war, he did EVERYTHING he could to try and stop that. Asuka isn't stupid - he's smart. He's a scientific genius. He could've easily taken the sleeping Frederick and Aria and fucked off, but he wanted to right a wrong. And it just... didn't work. He turned Aria into Justice, and though I think he probably intended to turn her back (after all, we see him demonstrate the ability to undo what he did to Sol at the end of strive) he never got the chance. Because the Universal Will overloads her and Justice just starts the Crusades.

In Overture's story, Asuka makes it clear to Sol that he needs him to be a warrior in order to be prepared for more horrors to come. Asuka realizes after the crusades that he can't fix it alone - everything he's done to solve a problem has so far ended up with him making things worse. Sol hates him. He knows Sol hates him. You know what's fucked up though?

He wants Sol to hate him. He feels like he deserves it.

I feel the need to point out that the crusades last over a century - Sol is immortal because of the gear cells and flame of corruption, but Asuka was just a normal guy - why/how is he here? Asuka created a synthetic body for himself that would not age, and transferred his consciousness into it so that he would not change. So that no matter what, Sol would recognize him. Knowing Sol wouldn't forgive him, knowing that he would always be able to find him, he didn't care - he never ever wanted to lose Sol.

Asuka clearly cares about people. He realizes the consequences of his actions, and he's clearly capable of feeling guilt over them. Look at what he does while working with I-No and Raven: He builds the Jack-O unit in the hopes that he can bring Aria back. He builds the Happy Chaos unit in the hope that he can help I-No regain her full self without going insane. He's Raven's only friend, a man who has been cast aside countless times and used for his powers. Those aren't the actions of a selfish or wholly callous man. If he was callous, he wouldn't try so hard to make SURE he could never escape Sol's anger by making himself permanently recognizable.

"Well maybe he just selfishly didn't want to let go of Sol." This is a legitimately fair point. However, let's recall what happens in the strive story: Asuka offers Frederick a choice between letting him remove the gear cells and flame of corruption from him, or letting Sol kill him.

I need you to look me in the eyes when I tell you I can't handle this part. I can't. Well over a century of fuckups and shit going wrong while Asuka desperately tries to make a million things right that weren't even entirely his fault to begin with - he didn't want to make Gears as weapons, hell he didn't even want to be a scientist! He laments about not having any control over his life and certain decisions. In all of that though, he fucking loves his friends Frederick and Aria. Now one of them's dead because of him, and the other one hates him, and after over 100 years of planning and thinking and work-

Asuka R Kruetz has no idea how to look Frederick Bulsara in the eye and tell him he's sorry. He only knows how to fix it, and also how to offer Sol a chance to feel better about it - I think he truly believes that after everything, if Sol killing him will make Sol feel better, that that's what he should let happen. I'm so fucking ill. Asuka thinks the fucking WORLD of Frederick - listen to this bit of his Strive theme, "The Gravity:"

"As the universe turned black / did the sun ever defy fate? / beyond it all do you recognize me?"

In case you aren't familiar with how Sol Badguy got his name, the government gave him the codename "Badguy" while he was running around wrecking gear compounds. "Sol" is a name given to him by Slayer, because he "shone brightly like the sun."

Now look at that snippet from Asuka's theme again - that line about the sun defying fate? That's about Sol. That's about how much he loves and values Sol, someones he repsect and looks up to, and the only person he had left to count on to fix the world that he feels like he fucked up.

As we know, Sol chooses to let Asuka just un-gear him, but after that Asuka just... leaves. He goes to the moon with the tome of origin to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. Do you know how fucking badly it fucks me up, that after everything, Asuka just ends up alone? He spent over a century trying to fix the world, nothing he did worked, and when it finally did everything was different. Everything. Aria is gone, Frederick is happier but not in his life anymore, and Asuka is alone. Everything he ever did started with his love for Frederick and Aria, and at the end of it all he's alone. And he feels guilty.

His Strive arcade Story rips me to fucking pieces - Asuka clones himself and when he does, the clone Asuka R # mentions specifically that Asuka made him "Chattier." He mentions that Asuka "Doesn't like himself." I read that as Asuka making an idealized version of himself - a self that wouldn't fuck up, a self that wouldn't be hated, but also

A self that would carry on his work.

This is where it gets heavy, but I personally believe Asuka intended to kill himself initially. He has no idea how to say sorry to Frederick, no idea how to atone, and no idea how to exist in a world that so far, he feels he has only ever fucked up in. Another snippet from his theme: "does existence have meaning? / the reality or the truth, the reality of the truth / what fact should we accept? / The reality or the truth? reality" He's trying to figure out if he can still live, if even if he wants to live, does he even deserve to? Have the right to? How can he atone?

The clone states, though it dances around it, that it's worried for Asuka - worried that he's hoping he'll lose the fight, hoping he'll die. But two of the possible outcomes (as strive arcade mode dialogue tends vary based on performance) are listed below:

In both of these conversations, the clone cites a desire to exist - which to the clone, since it is also Asuka in way, means that the original Asuka wants to exist too - and therefore that he can, and is trying to figure out how to.

I think Asuka, like a lot of Gear characters, is about trying to find a place in the world - even if the whole world feels like it's not built for you. All Asuka has ever done is tried - and failed. But he's still here. He DID manage to unfuck everything, and he did it because he DID still have Sol. Another bit of insight his clone dumps on him:

that bit there: "I know you can't affirm yourself. But at least tell me you’ll keep walking. Even if you lose your way. As long as one person out there cares about you… It’s worth it just to try to keep them happy." This is a common theme in Gear: relationships, both romantic and platonic, saving people; connections to others giving people a reason to go on or to see a new perspective that makes life worth living. Jack-O found Sol, who treated her like her own person and made her realize she was more than just a replacement for Aria. Dizzy found Ky and vice versa, changing Ky's perspective on Gears and having Dizzy realize she could be happy even in a world that treated her like a monster. Here on the moon, creating Asuka R# to talk to, Asuka is trying his very best to see and understand the world through Frederick's eyes - a world that Frederick saw as worth fighting for:

Asuka is a character who hasn't found his way yet, but all that matters is that he keeps looking.

Uh so to answer your question, I love Asuka R Kreutz - maybe you can tell by the fact that I dumped an absolute trainwreck mess on you after one small ask. Sorry! I apologize about this being a little all over the place and not having as much cohesion as I would've liked but this character is very dense and complicated and I did this kinda quickly so I had to sort through a bunch of weird feelings as I typed - I hope you found at least some of it interesting.

Thank you for the ask!

Ah, and a big fat huuuuuuuuge thank you to the stellar and amazing new Gear wiki, which is where I pulled those screenshots of his arcade mode script from! It's really a wonder how fast the wiki was put together and just what a fantastic resource it is for stuff like this; it saved me having to watch a video or, god forbid, try and do Asuka's arcade mode myself. Below is a link to the wiki page I pulled Asuka's stuff from - please check it out cause I didn't even come close to covering the full depth of what's talked about in his Arcade mode story and also because the wiki is glorious and deserves love:

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