#he just feels so.... alive if that makes sense | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonstruckme · 3 days

Note

I’m not quite sure if this is too explicit so if it is please feel free to decline, but I was wondering if you could do a poly!marauders x reader who has a past with sexual assault so is kind of iffy and stand offish about sexual inter course? Again, all good if you can’t because it is a touchy subject ! I hope you’re having a lovely day/night !! (p.s. I love your writing so much :3)

Thank you gorgeous, love you <3

cw: trauma response, mention of past sexual assault

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words

Sometimes you can feel left out. Of the easy way the boys touch each other, the knowingness they have of the other’s bodies, the in-jokes about intimate aspects of their relationship that aren’t secret from you but you’re not a part of. And you know in your bones, in that thrumming, impossible-to-ignore beat inside your ribcage, that you’re not ready to be a part of them, but it still hurts to have something about your boys that’s separate from you. Some part of them you can’t access, and it’s only because you won’t allow them access to you in return.

And sometimes, like now, things go astonishingly well. Sometimes you can let them touch you while feeling nothing but the pleasant warmth of love and lust brewing like a potion in your core. Sometimes you can let yourself tug Sirius closer as he kisses you, can swallow the soft sounds he makes into your mouth without your mind taking you anywhere other than this bed, this boy.

Sometimes you can get so lost in them it feels like the fear can’t find you.

“Okay?” Sirius’ breathes, setting a tentative hand on the small of your back. He tastes like coca cola, and his lips are a manifestation of every soft and earnest part of him he never shows. “This okay, sweetness?”

You nod fervently, trying very hard not to think as you tunnel your fingers into the featherdown silkiness of the hair behind his ear.

“Yeah?” You’re growing quite sick of all his talking, persistent in your kisses even when Sirius breaks them. His mouth curves against yours, sensing this, and his hand settles more comfortably into the curve of your spine. “Alright, you’re in charge. Just let me know if anything’s too much.”

You make a muffled sound of acknowledgement. Truly, logically, you feel safe with Sirius, the same as you would with Remus or James. It was his idea that you be on top, after Remus figured out that you feel most comfortable when you don’t feel trapped, after James was the one to initiate the conversation on how they can make you feel good while respecting your (admittedly, nebulous and often fickle) boundaries. You haven’t worked up the courage to do anything beyond kissing, and none of them have pushed you. Really, you’ve been the one doing the pushing, wanting more and more from the kissing until it’s turned into this, you and Sirius hiding from dishwashing duty with you on top of him and sucking his face like a dementor.

You grind your hips down into his, and Sirius’ chuckle rumbles through the both of you as he grabs a greedy handful of your ass.

Your breath stills in your lungs.

You still completely, actually, every inch of you rigid, from your bum under Sirius’ hand to your eyes, stuck closed tight. The only part of you that seems to get that you’re still alive is your heart, thrashing wildly inside the bars of your ribcage like it wants to escape when you can’t.

“Shit.” Sirius’ hand flees upward, skimming up your back to safer territory below your shoulder blades. “Shit, sorry, baby. You okay?”

You want to tell him yes, in every physical, objective, important way you’re just fine. But your breath is frozen solid somewhere between your throat and your lungs, and it won’t let you speak.

“Sweetheart.” Sirius is starting to sound desperate, though he’s clearly trying to stay calm for your sake. He sets gentle hands at your waist, sitting you up while he eases out from under you. You expect you’ll move like a statue, but your arms move of their own mind once freed, wrapping tight around your middle. “You’re okay, baby, you’re safe. I’m so sorry, I was—I should have asked. I moved too fast, I didn’t mean to scare you. Can you talk to me, please?”

“Sorry,” you manage. Something comes loose inside you. The air comes back to your lungs, you pull your legs up onto the bed, and laughter unspools from inside you like wire long coiled tight.

Sirius doesn’t smile. “Don’t be sorry,” he says. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have touched you like that. Are you okay?”

It’s now that James and Remus decide to come and see what you’re up to. At the sound of Sirius’ panic-tight voice, their footsteps hasten down the hallway. James taps on the doorframe and you turn to him so fast your neck clicks. His face is melded by a soft worry.

“Everything alright?” he asks.

You nod, but Sirius must signal something different from your other side, because James and Remus advance forward the way one might approach a feral kitten.

“Are you okay?” Sirius asks again, voice cracking now that the other two are here.

“Hey, it’s alright, love,” Remus says gently. “Maybe stop touching her for a bit.” You hadn’t even noticed Sirius’ hand gripping your leg, but its removal feels like you’ve lost a thousand pounds. You fight back a shiver. “She’s okay. Aren’t you, darling?”

To hear worry in even Remus’ voice is significant, and you try to make yours even to counter it. “Yeah,” you agree. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” James promises, crouching in front of you and Sirius. You’ve nowhere to hide from his melty-soft gaze. “What happened?”

“I went too far.” Sirius’ voice sounds like it hurts, scraping its way out of him. Your heart throbs in response.

You shake your head, insistent and perhaps a touch too fast. “No, it wasn’t your fault. I was—I—I escalated things, and then it just—”

“Take a deep breath,” Remus instructs.

“I’m fine,” you say again.

“Please, sweetheart. Just try.”

You do, for his sake, pushing air in and out of your lungs like you’re trying to inflate a balloon. They won’t get as full as you want them too, but it’s not until you try that your body seems to catch up to what’s been happening. You start trembling all over.

“Shit.” Your voice thickens, tears threatening. “Sorry, this is so uncalled for.”

“It’s not,” James says. “Can I—can I hold your hand, or are you not ready for that yet?”

“Please,” you squeak out.

He grasps your hand, and you squeeze tightly, breathing until the tears don’t press at your eyes so insistently. You hate that the ugly thing of your past is touching something this good. That it’s hurting people who aren’t you, like it’s a virus you caught and now you’re spreading it.

“It’s really not your fault,” you tell Sirius, turning to him. “I thought I could handle it.”

“I shouldn’t have moved without checking,” he replies in a similar tone. “I’m so sorry, sweetness, I never want to scare you like that.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.”

A dense silence lapses, not uncomfortable but full of things unsaid. James’ hand is warm in yours.

“Hug?” you ask Sirius.

He looks surprised. “Are you sure?”

You nod, extricating your hand from James’ to wrap your arms around his middle. Sirius is tentative at first, palms placed lightly on the high and low points of your back, but when you hold him tighter he reciprocates. You hear Remus whisper something to James. Sirius’ fingers press into your back, the tip of his nose cold where it squishes into your neck.

Sometimes, they make you feel completely safe.

614 notes · View notes

fraugwinska · 2 days

Note

I swear your stories make my heart skip beats❤️🩷❤️🩷 I need some soft spicy Alastor x Female Reader. Maybe a Morning After scenario with Alastor and the reader (waking up together, being soft and cute. Kisses and stuff and maybe a slight continuation of last night😏😏)

After the last stories I was EAGER to write your request, my dearest @alastor-simp. I've accepted my rank as fluff fairy, and I oh-so-love to write these cute, tender moments!!! Thank you for this ask, I hope I did it justice!

For the best experience, I suggest to listen to Ingrid Michaelson's "Love is', which I imagined the radio to play in the story (and listened to while I wrote it)

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

We only have Forever

The birds in hell weren't like anything on earth – their songs were not sweet and melodic, but rather ominous and melancholic.

Which is why, when you were woken by an unusual, bright chirping sound, you thought for a split second you were alive again, waking up from an intense, unusually immersive dream.

You shifted, cheeks still pressed into the white, soft pillow and body messily wrapped in cotton sheets, too drowsy to realize that the chirp was not coming from birds, but the little, vintage radio that sat beside the bed in. It quietly came to life, the search for a channel resulting in high, pitchy squeaks and fuzzy static feedback. Which was always the tell-tale sign of a waking Alastor.

The arm around your waist twitched, causing you to sigh peacefully. Your lids fall close and you let it pull you back into the center of the bed, into a warm, waiting body - a soft chest, thinly covered in silky taupe fur that tickled your nose, an underlying, hearty scent of wood and vetiver and the familiar rhythm of another heart drumming against your ears.

You left your eyes closed, relying on the most comforting senses of touch, hear and feel, the latter came into use as the sensation of sleepy, light kisses on the crown of your head that caused your lips to pull into a blissful smile.

"Mornin' my buck."

"Good morning, my doe."

His voice was nothing more of a mumble, still lazy and half asleep, hoarse and slightly deeper than when up and about. When he finally seemed to have picked a radio station he liked, the room was filled with a soft, dreamy song which suited the very same ambiance that was present - happy, in love, slow, silent bliss. It was one of your favorites, and one of the few more modern ones Alastor tolerated.

He ran his slender fingers up your back and shoulders, through the disheveled masses of hair, stroking it gently with his sharp talons, scratching ever so lightly on the scalp. He pulled himself a little more forward, tangling his legs even more with yours in an effort to maximize the connection of your bodies and minimize the space that span between you.

"Hey, easy now or I'll think you're afraid I'll jump up and leave as soon as my eyes open." you teased playfully, as Alastor nuzzled his nose deep in your hair, taking in deep breaths, inhaling your scent and humming in content.

"I had hoped after all my efforts tonight you wouldn't be able to even if you tried, darling."

You flicked his ear in fake indignation, but chuckled and raked your fingers over his back in soft, tender streaks, your fingertips gliding over his spine and sides. He shivered under your touches and melted deeper into you. A rhythmic, shuffling sound joined in with the faint tune from the radio, and Alastor groaned when you purred in lofty pride.

"Damned, traitorous thing...", Alastor scowled, trying to evade the hand that reached for his wagging tail under the sheets.

"Don't you talk like that about my precious friend.", you cooed and caressed the plush fur on his lower back, scratching with nimble fingers close to the base of his tail, the very spot where he was extremely... responsive. Alastor just growled again, missing any angry or mad edge, his tail continuing to thump louder and even quicker and causing him to whine as he failed to stop its excited sway.

"It betrays me."

"No, it only tells me that you're happy."

Alastor tilts his head to brush his lips over your own, almost not touching, a tiny, bittersweet distance between his and your mouth.

"If it's that much more of a conservationist for you, maybe I should stop talking then."

With a faint, sighed chuckle he finally closed the agonizing gap, lips met lips in a slow and flowing embrace, moving almost at the tempo of the song, it's calming beat guiding the cadence and harmony of his kiss. You felt him smile, more relaxed and at ease that his usual signature grin, even though your eyes were closed shut in drowsiness and enjoyment. The slow, lazy, fullness of this morning's intimacy, of your bodies so closely pressed together in ruffled sheets while hell's sun was only slowly rising on the horizon, making out and embracing each other without the need to rush or be somewhere in another hour or so was a rare occasion and therefore worth savoring.

His hands traveled over your hips, up your waist to settle in a gentle, cradling grip around your neck, fingertips grazing the outer edges of the delicate bite mark still there as a reminder of the contrasting feverish passion you both shared last night. With Alastor - It was war and peace, in a circle - hard, unforgiving, passionate desire at the beginning of dusk, and soft, tender and sensual love at the break of dawn. A clash of burning flames and gentle streams, all on an even ground of equals.

You sensed the slight change in the mood, the licks over your parted lips with the warm tip of his tongue soon turned to be deep and demanding, less lazy and more eager movements from his tongue - exploring the insides of your mouth, playfully flicking yours and circling around and between your teeth. His large hand left it's spot in the crook of your neck and pulled on the base of you head, sinking his digits in the tuft of your hair. You moaned softly into the kiss, more of a wanton, sloppy sound rather than anything else and you started to grow flushed, your skin tingling pleasantly under every touch and lick and nibble.

You deeply enjoyed the roughness and depravity you shared in the nights, you really really did. But this, this was what you loved. It was when Alastor wasn't starved for you, endlessly hungry and hasty to devour you but when you were a well prepped meal, slowly cooked and seasoned with care and love that you felt the most powerful connection of your souls - his touches were careful and secure and when he held you in his arms like this, kissed and adorned you like that, every and any gesture or caress spoke so clearly the sentence he had captured your heart with - you are mine and only mine.

"You are saying an awful lot with that body language for someone who wanted to stop talking, my buck." Alastor laughed fondly at your husky breathed words, rolling you on top of him, sheets sticking to the planes of your bare bodies. You threw a leg over him to sit in a straddling position, your face a mere few inches above his as he rolled his hips and swayed your body against his growing length.

“That's the beauty of a loophole, my doe, for no spoken words could express me quite as honestly as this."

Alastor kissed you once more and, now grinning as devilishly as you were used to, let his hands find rest on your hips, ready to start one more of those heavenly nonverbal conversations before you both had to ready yourselves for the hellish world outside of your bedroom.

Again, thank you for suggesting this. And a big shoutout to @minkdelovely, who made my heart skip with her article on 'Pictures of you'. The fluff fairy had you in mind with this, too ;>)

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #fluff galore #twinkle twinkle it's the fluff fairy #lazy morning sex #making out with al - a girl can dream

287 notes · View notes

beskarandblasters · 2 days

Text

A Twisted Fantasy

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist

Summary: You masturbate while thinking about your encounter with the Ghoul.

Word count: 750

Warnings: reader refers to him as the Ghoul, reader is able-bodied, Cooper might be a little OOC but fuck it we ball, masturbation, allusions to smut, pet names (sweetheart), light canon typical violence, no use of y/n

Late at night, under the cover of the trees and the night sky, you think about him– the Ghoul.

You don’t know his name. But you don’t need to. All you know is that ever since you saw him weeks ago, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. It’s an unfortunate chain of events. You had pissed off the wrong crowd in Filly, owing them bottle caps you most definitely didn’t have.

And for that, a bounty was placed on your head. That’s when the Ghoul came into your life. But only for a fleeting moment.

You were walking the streets after dark, already a bad idea. A hand enclosed around your wrist as you were dragged into a dark alley, followed by the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head.

“It’ll all be over real soon, sweetheart. Be a lot easier if you didn’t resist either.”

“Please no-” you started to beg.

“I’ll have you know.. they didn’t care if you were brought in dead or alive.”

“Sir, please. I don’t have any bottle caps. I can’t-”

He spun you around you were facing him. His appearance didn’t scare you. You had encountered Ghouls before. But he was different.

He had a voice so sultry it made you melt, knees buckling underneath you. The brim of his hat hung low, covering his eyes. You were backed up against a wall, cool metal chilling your burning skin. A weird mixture of fear for what’s come and arousal coursed through your body. His gun moved to your temple while his other hand pinned your hands above your head. Fuck.

Tears welled up on your lash line, threatening to spill over. It wasn’t long before they finally rolled down your cheeks in an unstoppable flow.

“Please, sir. I don’t have anything.”

“Nothin’?” he asked, his eyes finally meeting yours as he cocked his head to the side.

You shook your head no, crying harder at the feeling of his gun against your head.

He looked conflicted, eyes betraying the words he was saying.

“Look, sweetheart… A job’s a job.”

You cried and stuck out your lip, hoping and praying for a shred of mercy. You’re a crying, pathetic mess and maybe he’ll sense that. He sighed and cursed under his breath, looking away from you and at the ground instead.

“I suppose I could say you ran off… That I need to track you down again…”

“Really?” you asked, your face lighting up.

“Maybe but only if you do exactly as I say.”

“Anything,” you nodded as he lowered his gun.

“Run as far as you can away from here,” he said, letting go of your hands.

You waited for further instructions but he shouted, “I said run!” shooing you off. “Unless you want me to change my mind.”

“No, sir!” you squeaked, running as fast as you could out of Filly.

You were thankful he spared your life but for some reason, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You replayed every time he called you sweetheart in your mind. It didn’t help that he looked just like a fucking cowboy, accent and all.

And now here you are, fingers deep in your cunt, thinking about the Ghoul. You wish he were here right now, watching you please yourself. Or better yet… you wish he were making you feel good instead.

You imagine he’d talk you through it, praising you for being such a good girl, telling you how good you take his fingers or his cock. You think about his pleasure and how long it’s probably been since he felt any. You’d take care of that for him, making him curse under his breath like he did that one night in the alley. You’d do anything he wanted if it meant he’d call you sweetheart again.

God, how twisted is this? You’re fantasizing about a mutant who had the power to take your life right there and then. But that adds to the allure, to the fantasy. You’d pretend to be his bounty any day of the week, letting him whisper in your ear as he fills you up.

Before you know it, you cum around your fingers. Waves of pleasure rush through your body as you bite your lip to muffle your moans. The disappointment of the situation settling in now. The Ghoul’s not here and you’re alone. You roll over and sigh, silently hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll cross paths again one day.

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Part two

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem!reader #the ghoul fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #fallout

195 notes · View notes

aeomianamoure · 3 days

Note

Emo kai who’s secretly a himbo >:3

— emo kai who’s secretly a himbo!

warnings <3: !smut, inexperienced kai, inexperienced fem reader, cursing, kai and readers are a big bunch of losers (sorry!), !sweet reader, reader and kai are crybabies in this, mentions of spit?? i think i should put a tw for that!, make out session!, ddlg themes kinda? hmm, virginity loss, !safe sex ok

a/n: im ngl i had no clue what a himbo was before this request tbh so i’m sorry if this is awful

you felt tears in your vision as you felt a tingling sensation on your pussy, unaware of why this was happening so much lately when you were around your boyfriend of eight months

you didn’t get it was that your poor body trying to reject your boyfriend each time he held you? each hug and kiss you two shared? was that doing more harm than good to you? you weren’t sure because you never felt this way before

you felt embarrassed and ashamed of yourself so you didn’t mention anything about it to kai; that was until you finally had enough and told him what’s been happening mid make out session

kissing in cars by pierce the veil lowly echos throughout the room as you sloppily swap spit with your boyfriend, you both getting drunk on kisses and giggling over the drooling dripping on the corners of your lips all the way down to your chins as kai whispered ‘i love you’ followed by a ‘you’re so pretty like a doll’ each time he pulled away from your lips for a split second

you were blushing and saying small ‘thank yous’ and ‘i love you too’ and everything was fine until you felt your pussy ache again and you being unsure and afraid of that you pulled away giving kai the excuse of needing air

but kai knew you better than anyone, he knew something was wrong and you were clearly upset. and this caused him to look at you with droopy eyes and pouting lips; “what’s wrong baby? you’re still with me?” he scans your face with his eyes as he placed his large hands on your cheeks

you were still embarrassed but this secret has been eating you alive for so long, and you trusted kai wouldn’t judge you so you finally decided to fess up. “it aches” you’d tear up again not really sure how to word how you were feeling

“it aches? what aches baby?” kai’s face looks more worried as he tilts his head trying to scan your face he was pretty sure you had a headache or something.

you whimpered quietly as you point to your lower region; “right here” and immediately kai reaches down to massage your stomach thinking that’s what you meant but this only made you more whiny.

“kai! it doesn’t ache there!” your voice grew more high pitched as kai just looked at you confused. “so where does it ache then? your thighs?” the blacked haired male frowns his eyebrows

you huffed having enough of your boyfriend being oblivious so you decided to take matters into your hands and lightly drag kai’s hand down from your stomach to your pussy making a light bomb switch on in kai’s head

“oh no baby your cunnie aches? is that what you’re trying to tell me?” kai coos at you tracing your pussy with his pointer finger through your ruffle skirt making you shiver as you rapidly nod your head yes

“mhm” you’d whimper your eyes tearing up more as you were already feeling so out of it and fucked dumb despite all you two had done was make out but kai senses this and smiles at you showing off his smiley piercing; “yeah? hurts right here? or does it ache here baby?” kai’s grin widens more as he aims his rubbing on your pussy on your clit now

this made your breath quicken as you nod desperately telling him to keep going even though it was new to you both and he didn’t really know what he was doing, he just gotten sex advice from yeonjun last time he hung out with him at the skate park

kai laughs at your state, enjoying how he’s barely rubbing your pussy through your clothes and you’re already fucked out just by his dirty talk. “are you sure this is what you wanna do?” he’s hinting on finally taking your virginity and losing his with you

you nod eagerly unable to speak properly as you’re already so far gone just by kai’s touches and kisses making your boyfriend smile again at you

kai drops his head down to the ends of your skirt trying to hide how nervous he was along with his blush his smiley peeking out as he smiles more; “alright baby just let me get a condom and you just get comfy yeah?”

“holy shit” kai mutters out of breath already once he’s fully inside of you he doesn’t really know what to do or how to feel

he wanted to try his best on pleasuring you but honestly he secretly doesn’t know shit about anything sex related unless it’s from somebody else or from porno he watched; so he hoped just winging it with you would hide that fact

and it seemed to work because he can feel how wet you were and how eager your pussy was to grip onto his length, boosting his ego a bit as he felt you grip onto his arms tighter when he begins to slam his cock in your cervix; slamming him length inside of your velvety walls so aggressively all you could hear was the sounds of your pussy squelching around him making kai grin down at your needy state

“feels good?” he looks at you all cheeky trying to be confident but really he’s still nervous about not making you feel good

you hiccup, nodding your head as you again really couldn’t speak due to how much pleasure you were receiving; this made kai’s confidence go up by 100 as he also felt you squeezing him so tight he couldn’t move anymore

“gonna cum for me?” your boyfriend tells you growing tired already since he honestly didn’t have that much stamina and he’s afraid to admit at how quick he’s cumming

and with a nod he sighs in relief as he lazily and sloppily rubs your clit in hopes of you cumming first so he wouldn’t have to be embarrassed at cumming too soon especially before you

“still aching baby?” kai asked you laughing as you quickly shook your head no; “i love you my sweet girl” kai whispered in your ear as he big spooned you to sleep and you lazily mutter a ‘i love you too’

a/n <3: this was my first time writing himbo txt im sorry if this sucked oomf 😔

#angelina’s garden ♡!#coquette #emo boyfriend #emo x coquette #txt x reader #txt x y/n #txt #txt smut #txt headcanons #txt reactions #txt oneshots #txt kai #txt imagines

77 notes · View notes

milling-around · 2 days

Text

The Bad Batch Finale and Joel Aron’s cryptic tweet

Okay so Joel Aron, Director of Cinematography Lighting & VFX at Lucasfilm, tweeted this:

Initially, I thought that this was going to be the runtime of S3E15 The Cavalry Has Arrived. This episode being longer would make sense as it’s the finale of the show and it’s close in length to S1E1 Aftermath. However, I saw a screenshot floating around the other day that says the runtime of the final episode “spans 24 to 25 minutes”.

If this episode is the typical length then this timestamp must be referring to a different piece of media. The question is, what media? In an effort to determine what could happen in the finale, I went to that point in the films to see what I would find. None of them strike as much fear in me as what’s happening in A New Hope.

The Phantom Menace - Anakin has just won the pod race and they are celebrating his victory.

Attack of the Clones - Jango Fett and Boba Fett have just attacked Obi-Wan with seismic charges.

Revenge of the Sith - Anakin is looking out over Coruscant from the Jedi Council room. He has just revealed to Mace Windu that Palpatine is a Sith.

A New Hope - Before leaving to disable the tractor beam on the Death Star, Obi-Wan delivers a line which may foreshadow what’s to come in The Bad Batch.

Empire Strikes Back - Luke is trying to lift the ship out of the swamp on Dagobah.

Return of the Jedi - Luke, Han, and Chewbacca, along with the droids, are captured by the Ewoks.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars - Anakin and Ahsoka are heading towards Tatooine to deliver Jabba’s son back to him.

At 01:09:56:01 in A New Hope, or as close to it as I could get (Disney+ sucks) this is what we see:

Sorry it’s a photo of my computer, I don’t know how y’all take screenshots of Disney+.

“Your destiny lies along a different path from mine.”

Many people have been theorising that the show could end with the Batch and Omega surviving but being separated, either by choice or by circumstance. This line from A New Hope, as well as the fact that Omega’s voice actor, Michelle Ang, has described the ending as “bittersweet”, definitely make that a solid theory.

Maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree though. There’s also speculation about whether Omega is force sensitive, so maybe Luke using the force in Empire Strikes Back is the real clue. Despite Ventress not believing Omega to have a high m-count, and her not being one of Hemlock’s designated m-count specimens, we have seen characters with a low m-count who were capable of wielding the force. Sabine Wren, for example.

Still, Omega being force sensitive doesn’t prevent the theory that she gets separated from the Batch from being true. It could actually be a reason for that separation because she may pursue training or decide that her proximity to the Batch endangers them.

But wait, there’s more!

At this timestamp in S1E1 Aftermath, Omega is on the Marauder with the Bad Batch (minus Crosshair) and they’re setting off on what will be her first big adventure. Omega’s Theme is playing and she’s gazing out at space with child-like wonder. While they’ve just parted ways with Crosshair, the overall feeling in this scene is hopeful.

If the tweet is referring to this episode, it could mean that we get a wholesome Bad Batch family moment. Whether Tech is there or not may rely on CX-2 being unmasked. Perhaps it’s bittersweet because Tech truly is dead or because he’s alive but they cannot save him from the Empire. Or maybe it’s bittersweet for a whole host of other reasons.

Honourable mention

@kiffobaby also looked into what is happening at this timestamp if you combine the runtimes (including credits) of all episodes in clone relevant story arcs and didn’t really find anything of note. If credits were removed then it would put at us a different point in the arc, however it’s unlikely that we’d be looking for a timestamp in an arcs combined duration anyway.

If you’ve read this far, I love you and don’t worry, we’re almost done.

Secret 16th episode?

Seasons 1 and 2 each had 16 episodes which leads me to speculate that this timestamp could actually be the runtime of the final episode, a secret 16th episode.

Is it likely? No. Can I dream? Yes.

106 notes · View notes

iovebarca · 3 days

Note

can you write a pedri series inspired by a quevedo song for example like columbia

but plz make it a happy ending my heart hurts too much already bc of this season 😭😭😭😭

Fountain of Love - Pedri

Authors note: I've never written something like this so give me feedback! and please send in some requests!🫶🏼

+ I could turn this into a series but yall have to give me songs😭 and it doesn't necessarily have to be by Quevedo.

Warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me

WC: 800 ish

Summary: You meet Pedri, a talented footballer, in the city. Despite challenges, your love grows stronger. Now, watching the sunset together, you find solace in each other's arms, knowing your love will endure.

Meaning of the song: Columbia by Quevedo is about a romantic relationship, with the lyrics expressing themes of love, desire, and passion. The song likely explores the ups and downs of being in a relationship, perhaps touching on emotions like longing, excitement, and devotion.

The first time you laid eyes on Pedri was like a scene out of a romantic novel, a moment etched into your memory with the vividness of a dream. It was a balmy summer evening, the kind where the air hung heavy with the scent of street food and the sound of laughter danced through the bustling streets. The town square was alive with activity, a vibrant tapestry of colors and sounds that captivated your senses as you strolled through its midst.

And then, amidst the chaos, you saw him—Pedri, standing by the fountain like a serene figure in a painting. There was something about him, something magnetic that drew you in, like a moth to a flame. Not too tall but incredibly handsome, with tousled dark hair and hazel eyes that seemed to hold the secrets of the universe, he exuded a quiet confidence that set him apart from the crowd.

As you approached him, your heart fluttered with anticipation, unsure of what to expect from this enigmatic stranger. But when he turned to look at you, a warm smile gracing his lips, all your doubts melted away. "Hello," he said, his voice soft and melodic, sending shivers down your spine. "Enjoying the evening?"

His words were simple, yet they held a world of meaning, a silent invitation to join him in this moment of serenity amidst the chaos of the city. And so, with a smile of your own, you nodded, feeling a sense of connection blooming between you like a flower in bloom. "Yes, it's beautiful," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, the words carrying a weight of their own.

And just like that, your journey with Pedri began—a journey filled with twists and turns, highs and lows, laughter and tears. He wasn't just any ordinary guy; he was a footballer, a rising star in the world of sports, with a talent that left spectators in awe and opponents trembling in their boots. But despite his fame and success, he remained humble and down-to-earth, a quality that only made you fall for him even harder.

Together, you navigated the highs and lows of his career, from the exhilarating victories to the devastating defeats. You were his biggest fan, cheering him on from the sidelines with unwavering devotion, even when the odds seemed stacked against him. And through it all, he never failed to make you feel like the most important person in the world, showering you with love and affection every chance he got.

But amidst the excitement of his career, there were moments of doubt and uncertainty, moments when you wondered if your love could withstand the pressures of fame and fortune. There were rumors and scandals, gossip columns filled with speculation about Pedri's personal life, threatening to tear you apart.

But through it all, you stood by him, your love stronger than ever in the face of adversity. You were his rock, his anchor in the storm, reminding him of the person he truly was beneath the glare of the spotlight.

As the years passed, your bond with Pedri only grew stronger, deepening with each passing day. You shared your hopes and dreams, your fears and insecurities, knowing that no matter what the future held, you would face it together.

And then, one magical evening, Pedri got down on one knee and asked you to be his forever. It was a moment you would never forget—the way his eyes sparkled with love and adoration, the way his voice trembled with emotion as he professed his undying love for you. And as you said yes, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks, you knew that your life would never be the same again.

Now, as you stand hand in hand with Pedri, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of pink and gold, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. For in Pedri's arms, you have found your home, your safe haven in a world filled with chaos and uncertainty.

As the stars begin to twinkle overhead, you lean in to kiss Pedri, your heart overflowing with love and gratitude. For in Pedri, you have found not only a lover but a partner, a soulmate to share life's journey with until the end of time. And as you gaze into each other's eyes, you know that no matter what the future may hold, as long as you have each other, you will always find your way back home.

#pedri #pedri fluff #pedri one shot #pedri x reader #pedri imagine #pedri fanfic #fc barcelona

60 notes · View notes

astoryisaloveaffair · 3 days

Text

Fix You - Chapter 16 - Genesis

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

Fic Masterlist

Read on A03

Spotify Playlist

»»———————►

Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit

Chapter Warnings: cussing, graphic violence, mentions of sex. I'm not giving more warnings than that, sorry.

A/N: Hey all. First I want to say I'm sorry. I literally had no time or motivation to write this. I'm gonna be honest, this is a really tough chapter, and it was hard to get in this headspace. Suffering a recent heartbreak, things in this chapter are things I have thought also, and so it was really hard for me to voluntarily want to address that. I also started working in veterinary medicine, i do not have the spare time that I used to. We also recently adopted a puppy who we named Bucky! And if you read my earlier posts, you know that I was SA'd last January. All that to say, sorry I couldn't do this faster.

Also want to wish a happy birthday to @musings-of-a-rose, my beloved, my bestie, and my constant support. This is for you. Sorry it's not a happier chapter....

* If a character is speaking fully in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this

Suggested Songs: "Exile" Taylor Swift feat. Bon Iver, "I Love You" Billie Eilish, "Vampire" and "Logical" by Olivia Rodrigo, "The Night We Met" by Lord Huron and Phoebe Bridgers, "Genesis" by Grimes

You didn’t even flinch at the landing, which was rough, so that’s saying a lot. When the janky cargo door (which looked like at any time during the flight would be ripped right off) opens, you barely even lift your eyes from the floor. You felt heavy and hollow, somewhere suspended in between shock and just not giving a fuck anymore. The only thing you could still fell was the pinching in your heart. It was still broken.

At some point during the journey, the co-pilot had taken pity on you and untied your arms from behind your back and bound them in front of you instead. You hadn’t struggled. There was no point. Where would you go? Jump in the ocean? You weren’t that great of a swimmer and you loved sharks and everything but the open ocean is not where you are supposed to be.

You have no sense of space and time, so you have no actual clue where you are other than not the mainland. You’re dehydrated as fuck, groggy, your vision’s blurry and you’d figured out the sticky moisture on your face was your own blood.

Because when you had suddenly blacked out it was because they’d hit you, and had absolutely no hesitation doing so. They did not care about you, they did not see you as a human being, they didn’t even bother strapping you into a seat so you had been sliding around the cargo bay the entire flight, bumping into everything. You were in deep danger, any hope that you would have some ransom protection had pretty much disintegrated. You had hoped that the boys wouldn’t come for you at first. Then you had hoped that they would, because if you’re ransom, even if at the very least you’d be alive until then, right? But “alive” doesn’t mean unharmed.

A shadow looms over you and it finally makes you look up, squinting to adjust your eyes to something so close, as well as the brightness of the sun. It feels like it takes you 10 whole minutes to process that you were being spoken to in English.

“Eh!” The man leaning over you snips, and when you simply blink in confusion and don’t answer, he slaps you lightly on both cheeks. You’re stunned enough to finally look at him, his oval face, beady eyes and unique sideburns seeming so familiar to you but quite frankly you wouldn’t trust yourself with recognizing even your dad at the moment, so you push that thought aside.

He kneels down in front of you. “You listen to me. We don’t want you. We want the money. This means if you don’t fucking piss me off, I might be nice and not kill you, you understand? Be a smart little girl, eh?.”

You nod, you probably should be feeling some sort of panic setting in but you don’t. Whatever. Who even cares anymore.

He takes your silence as submission. “Bueno.” He whispers, leaning down and grabbing you by the arm, lifting you until you are back on your feet. He tilts his head and steps to the side, revealing 5 additional men with AKs pointed straight at you. From behind, you feel the sharp tip of another poking your back, urging you forward and down the precarious ramp. The pilots.

You didn’t trust that they wouldn’t hurt you, but you knew you had no other choice. Trying to fight was asking for it, and once you step out of the hold and realize you were in the fucking jungle, there would be no sensical place to go even if you did get away.

You step out of the plane onto a rickety steel ramp that bounces as the footpad of your sandals touches it and shuffle slowly down it. You feel suffocated sandwiched between four men, your hands chafe where they are tied and you have been in the same positions for so long your whole body is sore. Every touch and movement hurt.

You stumble as the ramp ends but one of the men grabs your arm and yanks you so you don’t fall. It wasn’t kindness. It was a way to hurt you that he could get away with. The tiny dirt landing strip is almost canopied completely by the jungle trees, leaving large patches here and there where the plane flew through, not noticeable from far above. It looks like you’re walking to nothing, just a dirt road that ends right into the thick middle of the jungle, but you don’t stop at the edge. You push through.

It’s hot as shit and you felt sweat buildup in every crevice of your body, your thighs are rubbing raw from your asinine decision to wear short shorts to the fair, and you could feel a heat rash growing under your tits that you couldn’t even scratch because your hands are bound.

You walk for forever. You walk until the friction rash on your inner thighs turn to lesions. You haven't drank water in almost 48 hours and it feels like 150 degrees out, with full humidity. You’ve had to stop twice already to vomit from heat exhaustion and you still occasionally gag even though there’s nothing in your stomach to come up anymore. All the years that you did not appeal to insects are making up for it now, they’re all over you and you can’t walk 3 steps without one getting in your eye. The jungle gets tighter and you can’t breathe because it’s pushing in on you almost as tight as the hands on your shoulders pushing you forward..

You start crying. At least, that is what you tell yourself as you whimper and sob as quietly as you can. You know you’re strong, but this is just beyond reason that any normal person could take. And when you think about how this is probably what life was all the time in Delta for the boys, you cry even harder because you feel guilty, that you have no right to complain.

Finally, after what feels like forever, the tightness of the jungle seems to loosen. More open. You notice some of the trees look more oddly arranged than others. As you get closer you realize they aren’t trees at all, but tents and dilapidated buildings built into the shadows of the trees. The huge roots and overhanging canopy of the jungle transformed a bustling camp into what looks like a little village. At the entrance, a line of guards in jungle fatigues that were impossible to detect until you got right up to them. You hear someone speak above you, alerting you to a man up in the trees on a platform tucked between the branches. There was another in the tree on the opposite side. He calls to the man with the sideburns, saying something in Spanish you can’t interpret fast enough, but it’s jovial and they laugh, and it makes you feel like you’re going to go mentally insane.

It’s like it’s not even serious to them. And it’s so serious to you.

You are pushed through the camp quickly, but not quick enough that you don’t see the insane amount of cocaine packages piled up in the makeshift buildings, sheds, and tents toward the back. Men were milling about checking them, moving them and glaring at you as you walked past.

You continue past the main camp, crossing over a bustling creek whose bridge was literally just planks of wood, but you noticed there were tire marks across them so you felt at least safe it could handle a car’s weight. Across the creek, an old stonework manor stood. You can tell at one time it must have been glorious, but the white stone-worked walls were dirty and crumbling in many places, the fountains out front had dried crusty palm fronds and dirt in them and looked like they hadn’t sprayed water since the 1980s.

It was still oddly beautiful. You thought about how this house came to be, what it might have looked like when it had been first built. A beautiful Caribbean sea mansion. A jungle that hadn’t closed in on it yet. Fountains spraying and colorful birds resting on the rooftops. But then you realize that this place has probably always been used for what it is now. Someone like Carl Lehder probably lived here and ran an entire cartel within this very jungle. Maybe it was the same one, just run by someone else.

There was a shabbily made shack to the left of the manor with padlocks, piles of debris piled next to the door. You assume that’s where you would be taken, but you were instead led up the stairs to the manor proper. And as your eyes focus in on the ground while you were being guided to the mansion instead, you realize the heap of matter by the shack that you thought was some dying plantation was actually a crumpled human body. A boy looking not much older than 17, shot execution style in the head and left to rot.

Then smell hits you, your knees buckle and you vomit on the stonework stairs, a scream of shock and realization pierces the jungle, making the nearby tropical birds explode from the treetops. When the sicarios pick you up and carry you through the mansion door, you’re still screaming.

Eventually whoever was carrying you became fed up, and simply dropped you at the bottom of the stairs and dragged you up backwards by the armpits instead. You didn’t even feel the step edges hitting the small of your back all the way up, but you would later.

You were tossed stricken and shivering on a disgusting, top-sheeted mattress on the floor in the corner of a room, your feet still bound together and your rope-bound hands looped through a radiator that was long enough only for you to lie down or shuffle over to a bucket for your business. Everything stank and you still had vomit on your chin so you curled up in a ball and slammed your eyes closed, hoping that in time the voices and smells and fear would give way to just simple numbness. You didn’t hear a female voice speaking to you for several seconds.

Your eyes snap open, skin pulled taut from dried unwiped tears,and you jolt upright to look in the direction of the voice. A woman who wasn’t even tied up was propped up against the adjoining wall, and as you take in her condition you could understand why they hadn’t even bothered. She wouldn’t have been able to run.

Her legs look..wrong, splaying at angles that shouldn’t be possible. They look like they could be broken, but you can’t tell for sure because she was wearing jeans that cover up most of her skin. The jeans were ripped in some places and stained with dark blood spots, the color turning brighter wherever her skin shows through the tears in the fabric. She’s missing several fingers on her left hand that had been burnt at the ends to cauterize, and her face was black and blue, swollen and smeared with more blood that seemed to be coming from her scalp somewhere. Her lips are pale and cracking and her eyes are glazed over and barely open. When she speaks, she already sounds like she is dead.

She swallows and winces slightly in pain, then licks her cracked pale lips.“Is…my…her–my brother. Did you see him? Out there?”

Your face scrunches in confusion, which actually hurts a little and you’re not sure from what specifically. Perhaps you look just as bad as the other girl. “Your–I—I don’t understand.”

She’s too exhausted to even be annoyed with you. “My brother. They took him from me days ago. They do not talk to me anymore. They don’t—need me anymore.” A single tear falls down her swollen cheek and you suddenly feel so much connection with this woman and how incredibly fucking strong she is. Her eyes roll over to you, meeting yours for the first time. There are burst blood vessels in them.

“I think that they killed him.”

Your lips part and you utter a shuddering breath as you connect the dots. There’s no point in sugar-coating it. You nod slowly. “I think so. But it’s not…recent.” You look away as her eyes slowly close, the additional tears she was holding back finally spilling over and cascading down her cheeks.

“Bueno.” She says. “Then at least he is not suffering like me.”

You both fall quiet and you look over her again. Her pants aren’t completely done up and her t shirt is ripped at the neckline, exposing a gashed shoulder. Almost like…

You start crying again, and you feel even worse about it this time because you have in front of you a woman who has been through much worse and is somehow NOT crying. You curl tighter into yourself to try and hide.

But she simply asks. “Who are you?”

You swallow, raising your head up off your arms, quickly wiping the access tears off on your sleeve. It’s incredible how adrenaline and fear can sometimes make you the most clear-headed you’ve ever been. Your thoughts are swirling but you knew one thing for damn sure, if they didn’t know your name yet, you weren’t going to say it now.

If I look forward I am lost. Focus on right now. Nothing else. It’s my best chance.

You know enough about trauma that compartmentalizing this moment is your best chance. You can’t think what will happen if you don’t escape, if you aren’t found, if they never come for you. You need to stay focused. You need to keep hope alive. You need to stay coherent, because if a chance pops up, you need to be able to think quickly.

“I’m no one.” You mumble. “Just happened to be dating the wrong person.”

She sniffs and looks away, but it’s muffled because her nose sounds congested. You don’t miss her tone though. “Mmmm. His new one then.”

You blink. “What?”

Her glazed over, discolored eyes snap back to yours. “Pope.” She spits. “Your man. Santia—”

“NO!” You cut her off with a shout, you know there is a guy who is in the area and you still don’t know how much these men do or do not know. “Don’t. Don’t give them names if they don’t already know it.”

“I don’t give a shit about Agent Garcia, or his friends, or anyone else, it’s their fault I am here and it’s their fault my brother is dead and..” She finally, finally starts to cry. “I told him I didn’t want to do it. They said they would let us go if we gave them what they wanted.”

“It was you.” You exhale with a shuddering breath. “They found us cause of you. You told them.” You shake your head, and for some reason you feel betrayed by this woman even though you’ve never met her. “How could you?”

“Because all I care about is my brother, do you understand?! I wish I’d never met him, Garcia, we would have just snuck away and no one would never seen us, but no, instead we listened to him and helped them steal from fucking Lorea, and now they found us and I knew they would, and YES, I gave them EVERYTHING because they said they’d let us go so long as they found you and–”

“Eh!” A voice trails in with a watchman you knew was hanging out somewhere in the hallway beyond. He slips through the doorway, a smaller man you were not expecting from that voice, and leans against the deteriorating door frame. He crosses his arms and his legs and it makes the handgun on his hip jut out prominently from his skinny hips. “No talking to each other.” His voice is silky and the words all slide together so it sounds like ‘no talkintoeeachother.’

You shrink back into the dirty wall behind you as your associate spits a bloody phlegm ball in the man’s direction. “FUCK you!” She snarls, a tirade of cuss words in Spanish flying from her lips.

A loud pop almost bursts your eardrums and your heart and you exclaim in terror as your associate is shot point blank in the head, her back slumping against the wall and her head hitting with a bang, pieces of blood and brain tissue spraying over the back wall with pieces flying in your direction.

The man remains completely motionless with his arms still raised before huffing a laugh to himself, putting the gun back on his hip, and looking at you with the such an unaffected gaze it leaves you feeling dizzy and you scream and scream and scream yourself hoarse, crumpling onto your mattress in a terrified heap, arms over your head, sobbing hysterically.

A gentle but firm palm wraps around your forearm, yanking you back up to a seated position. You look away, but the man’s other hand takes you gently by the jaw and makes you look at him. And just behind him, the woman slumped in a pool of blood and brain matter. You try to wriggle out of his grip but he tightens ever so slightly, and you can’t help but notice how different it is when Frankie would grab you like that versus this man. Frankie held you the same, sometimes harder, but you had trusted his domination and his care of you and because of that, it made it arousing. That same motion with this man has you more scared than you ever have been in your life.

“Bebita.” He coos, thumb lightly caressing your jaw. He wipes at a small speck of blood you don’t know is even there. You can feel yourself shaking and breathing so fast you can see his half waxed back tousled locks that hang past his temples are blowing in its breeze. You can’t answer him. “Look at me.”

You do. His eyes are a dark, almost black chocolate brown, shape mismatched, a scruffy beard and goatee and thin lips. In another world you would find him devastatingly attractive and the fact that you do makes you feel absolutely violated and disgusted with yourself.

“Do not cry.” He continues. “You have no reason to if you behave, si? You be good and you listen and I will keep you safe you understand? Well, at least for now.” He shifts closer to you, you can smell his breath. It smells like orange and cloves. “There are a lot of men here Bebita. I am sure you understand what this means, si? Answer me.”

“Yes.” A final fat tear spills from one of your eyes, and it stings as it mixes with your sweat and the raw skin around your eyes.

He juts his head in the other woman’s direction. “This one, she fight the whole time. I like a easy job. Make my job easy, I make sure you always deal with me. Do not make me call in the other guys, they are not as nice. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He releases your chin and you scoot back quickly as he saunters over to the other woman’s bloody body, grabs it by the arm, and casually drags her as dismissively as possible out the door and out of your sight, leaving a bloody trail behind.

At first you just sit there in a slump staring at the opposite wall,, you don’t know for how long. Probably hours. Maybe days. The man, whose name you figured out from when he spoke to someone else in the hall, is Angel. Sometimes he would sit up and watch you, as if figuring you out, your body and the way you shift and switch positions when you are uncomfortable, what it looked like when you were crying and trying to keep quiet and unnoticed. But most of the time he ignored you. Occasionally others would come into the room and either speak to him or approach you, but upon noticing Angel watching them they would hiss or spit a curse and slink off.

The room reminded you of those old houses from the 70s that had those drafty unfinished basements that were simply concrete floors, painted stucco or white brick. To the sicarios, it served as an overflow area, there was a rotting desk along the side wall with a metal folding chair and piles of scattered papers and random household tools on them. Against the opposite side wall was a pretty nice tv, considering, which was always playing soccer. Angel seemed to make that his home base, his lithe frame sprawled across a grandma-fabric sofa, head resting on one of the puffy arm rests. He binge-smoked cigarettes and his right hand was always stretched over his head resting against his forehead in the direction of to an end table with an massive overflowing porcelain ashtray on it. You didn’t used to mind the smell of cigarettes too much but now it makes you feel sick.

You’re ashamed of how little you actually think about your current situation and like the hopeless romantic idiot you are, mostly all you can think about is Frankie. The things he said–you knew he said mean things when he was mad, or things he didn’t mean, but isn’t there always some truth to things that are said in the heat of the moment? That was enough for you to silently spiral. You thought about every memory you had of him and how it could be viewed through the lens that Frankie just wanted to fuck you. Your self confidence was low enough it was believable, and your mind races through every instance of an older man being in a relationship with someone much younger and how of course it was predatory, and how could you not see it, that you didn’t have anything in common? It’s a tale as old as time. He just wanted to fuck you, he wanted to fuck you and dominate you, his dark desires seducing you into feeling so wanted you can’t believe you thought he loved you and didn’t see right through it.

And his friends, well, they were all in on it weren’t they, because why would they want to hang out with someone like you either? Why would men such as that actually want to be friends with you when you have never experienced half of what they have.

Fuck him. Fuck him and his lying ass, he was a fucking loser addict and you’re pissed at yourself for even considering him. Like how lonely were you?? To choose an old man with a kid who served in an institution that represented everything you hated about this country? To be so easily blinded by pretty words and love bombs to immediately take your clothes off. Because how, if he actually loved you or even like you, could he possibly have lied about something so big?! Or bought you something nice with all that fucking drug money he stole. Not that you’d want it or expected it, but why wouldn’t you want to treat someone you love as much as he claimed to?

How could he sit there and make up what happened to Tom like that, when you were being so coddling and trying to be a caring ear. And Benny…Pope...if they were your friends they should have told you, that’s what real friends do…

But they weren’t your friends. They were never your friends.

And if you went the other way, and considered that it was all true, that he did love you, that they were all your friends, and that he lied to you and threw stones to hurt you and push you away, how was that any better? You couldn't even think about a future not being with him, but obviously he could. He could watch you cry and question him and not even look at you, completely ignore you, then not even think about you again. No texts, no calls. No “I’m sorry, please come back.” Silence.

How could it be so easy for him? How can he just go about his life like you never happened? Why did you still care?

Why did you still want him?

Why did you still love him so so much. Part of you wishes they’d get on with it and just kill you. At least then you wouldn’t have to feel this excruciating pain. You wouldn’t have to see him show up to rescue you because he has to, to have to see his fucking face and every line, crinkle, scar, the bald patch in his beard and the tousled little curls that pop out of his hat…only for him to save you and then leave again, or die and then you have the guilt of killing a man who no longer loved you.

Yea. You think you’d rather die.

You feel like you’re going to throw up again. You’d let him force his cock in your mouth as far as it could go, let him tie you up and fuck you hard enough to leave bruises you had thought of as a badge of honor. You’d let him cum on your face. You’d let him fucking cum inside you! He’d gaslit you so you actually wanted him to tie you up with zip ties—-

Your heart almost stops. You can picture how his face looked exactly when he said it.

Sometimes rope can give over time.

That’s why we always used zip ties.

You look down at your bound hands.

They’re bound with rope.

#fix you fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales x you #frankie catfish morales x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic

66 notes · View notes

mrsparrasblog · 1 day

Text

MAKAROV X PRICE DAUGHTER FINAL PART (PRICE ENDING)

TW: Blood, dead

previous part part one

As Price watched your wedding from afar, a thousand thoughts swept through him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for the moments he had missed in your life, the milestones he hadn't been there to witness. But amidst the regret, there was love and pride in seeing you so radiant, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. You grew up to be a beautiful woman like he always imagined; you were graceful, confident, and full of joy. If this wedding were just something different, something he could be happy about, god, he would rather have married you off to some bloke than a fucking terrorist.

His mind raced with thoughts of how he could have intervened earlier and how he could have protected you from falling into the hands of a man like Vladimir Makarov. Yet he knew deep down that you were strong, resilient, and had made your own choices, even if they weren't the ones he would have wanted for you. Thoughts flowed through his brain: did you choose him freely? Did you know what Makarov was? Why did you vanish from the world? You probably had Stockholm syndrome; there wouldn’t be a chance in hell that his sweet, smart girl fell in love willingly with a man like Makarov.

As he wiped away his tears, Price made a silent vow to himself. He may not have been your protector in the past, but he would be damned if he didn't become your guardian now.

He waited what felt like ages for him to finally see you for a second alone. You were headed to the bathroom, and the wide wedding dress mopped the floor. Makarov was speaking to some politicians, and that was his only chance. He gave Ghost the agreed signal: don’t hurt Civis; kill that bastard and save you.

He heard you vomiting, so he walked inside the bathroom. He already knew what it meant, but he didn’t want to think or even believe this, there was a different time to sort out that problem.

You turned around, being sure that Vlad had intruded on your space. He was always so overprotective, but you knew he would be even worse after this news, but did you really mind?

You gasped as you saw him—your father. He looked older than you remembered; he had more wrinkles, worried eyes, and a completely unshaven beard. "Dad?“

"Oh God, Sweetie, “ he said, almost running the few steps over to you. He embraced you in a tight hug, trying his best to hide his tears. Everyone believed you were dead; they wanted him to mourn you, hold a wake to you, and finally declare you dead but he knew you were alive, and now you stood there in front of him, with a confused look in your beautiful eyes—but alive.

"I didn't think you would make it, Dad,“ you said bluntly while mustering him. It had been so long since you last saw him.

"Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?“ He started to grab your arms, pulling the sleeves up, looking for any bruises or any indication that Makarov had hurt you. God, he personally wanted to gut that bastard out.

"No Dad, Im fine; Vlad would never hurt me.“

"He is a terrorist, Sweetie; he kills for money.“

"I know, but he has his reasons, Dad. He never would hurt me or do something bad without a reason.“

He looked towards you with a saddened expression, taking your delicate hands in his calloused ones. "Look, I get it. You had a rough time, didn’t you? Your head tricked you into thinking that you love him and that he is this prince from a fairytale, but he isn't; none of this is real.“

You were fuming at this accusation. How had he the audacity on your wedding day?"I'm not stupid, Dad.“

"You're not stupid; you’re brave.“

"He doesn’t hurt me; he protects me and takes care of me, Dad.“

"And what if he changes his mind? If you’ll be the victim of his actions? Please see reason.“

"At least he doesn’t leave me all the time." Spite and pure spite made you say these words: You always loved your dad more than anything else in your life, but he left you; he loved Tina more; he never cared about you; at least that's what you thought.

"Im sorry- I really am for being such a shitty Dad to you, but I love you more than anything, and I know you deserve a better old man, but you also deserve better than marrying a man who isn’t capable of loving. Come home with me; I divorced your stepmom; I will retire okay; no more deployment; no more war; just you and me and Tina if she wants to stay with us,“ he pleaded. He wanted you so bad to agree.

"Dad, I can't; I'm pregnant." You told him the news, and you were sure he would give up by that, but his expression didn’t change, almost as if he already knew.

"Sweetie, I'll help you, okay? And you can still see Vlad just come home, even if it's just for a bit, okay?“ He didn’t know how to help you anymore; besides lying to you, he knew it would stain your relationship even more, but right now, everything that counted was to have you leave this place.“

"You really would.“

"Of course.“

"Thank you, Dad,“ you mumbled and stood up on your way to leave the bathroom to tell Vlad that your Dad kinda accepts him for the baby's sake.

"Wait“

"Hm?“

"Let your old man hug you,“ with that, he pulled you into one of his famous bear hugs, softly stroking your beautiful hair.

When you left the bathroom, you saw Vlad, the supposed love of your life, your husband limp on the ground. The guards lay dead in different corners, and the wedding party was gone. You were only gone for 20 minutes, and everything was ruined.

You ran over to Vlad, hugging his limp body, trying to search for a pulse or anything but gone. You pressed his body closer to yours, and your eyes slowly started to build tears. The sobs only grew louder as you mumbled I love you all over and over again in Russian to him. You weren’t even sure if you were able to tell him that you loved him, and now he is gone. „You lied to me, Dad,“ was all you said to the military man in front of you, who looked at you like you were a zoo animal. Your white dress had already turned the prettiest shade of maroon.

Your Dad walked towards you, trying to pick you up, but you didn’t want to leave Vlad's body.

"He is dead, Sweetie.“ he crunched next to you.

"You lied to me.“

"I know,“ he picked you up, ignoring your protest, but he also held you the whole night while you cried in his arms, not for one second judging you that you fell in love with Vlad, never dismissing your grief; he was for once in your life there for you.

————————————

1 year later

You moved in with your Dad again, he indeed retired from the military. His friend and aunt Kate helped at first, but now you managed, even got your old job back that you loved so much. Your Dad sent you to therapy, and after a while, you got it—this wasn’t love, this was fear—and you're free now. This made you resent the baby inside your belly first, but when little James was born, everything was different, and you didn’t connect him with Vlad.

You were afraid your Dad wouldn’t accept little James, but he did. He carried him proudly around, showing it off to his old squad, especially the new Captain of the squad, Captain MacTavish, or anything like that. Your Dad always carried a pacifier in his bag, always a picture of James, Tina, and you in his wallet. He was finally at peace, and so were you.

The End

So this is Price ending , its the first fanfic Drabble whatever I finished, and through the whole process I thought what if my reader don't like the ending, what if its lame or anything but then I thought you don't need always Drama for a good fic or an different love interest ending, sometimes the ending is just good because she finally has what she always craved a family bond.

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran , @cassiecasluciluce , @the-faceless-bride , @paintlavillered

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #captain john price #john price #makarov x you #makarov x reader #call of duty makarov #cod makarov #vladimir makarov #john price cod #captain price #price #141 #cod fic #captain johnathan price

51 notes · View notes

mystargirl-interlude · 2 days

Text

𝐀𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐞(s)

Billy dunne x fem reader. Yes I’m aware I put this in the finnick tag, it’s the same actor and idgaf so keep it cute

smut, talk of sex, drugs and everything in between, fic is veryyy AU like the interviewer isn’t billys daughter, it was never specified but I imagine it as grahams and everyone in the band are still good friends. Read note at the end

2006

Narrator: let’s talk about the incident of ‘76

Daisy: “what a time to be alive” she said before bursting out laughing

Karen: “messy, messy, messy”

Graham choked on his water

Warren: original Pam and Tommy I swear *starts cackling* y/n was the og 90s girl before the 90s especially her fashion sense…. And other things..”

Eddie just started at the camera

Y/n: “made a shit ton of money” She says, laughing when someone out of frame catches her eye

Billy: “well. Um.” He stutters out rubbing his beard before he’s thrown a magazine by someone out of frame. “Oh, well this pretty much sums up the year” he says before flipping the magazine around to the camera

1976

“Fuck” You whine out, attempting to clench your legs around Billy’s head.

“Keep the camera straight doll” he rasps out before going back to absolutely devouring your cunt. Your senses are completely overwhelmed between billy’s head between your thighs suctioning his mouth to your swollen clit and the loud party in the next hotel room over with the rest of the band. You guys snuck away as soon as possible, leading to billy stripping you of all your clothes but making you leave your high heels on

“Billy, shit I’m gonna cum” you loudly moan out as you move the camera closer to your cunt. You swear you almost smacked the shit out of him when he took his mouth off your pussy stopping your orgasm. He sat up so that he could kiss you, immediately shoving his tongue in your mouth as you lightly suck on it.

Billy grabbed the camera from your hands and pointed it down at you as you laughed grinning up at him. “Fucking ethereal” he groans out as he looks through the grainy video. He grabs your leg putting it over his shoulder as he lightly kisses your ankle that still has your high heel straps on. He switches the Camera to his other hand as he gropes your tit “billy if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna go crazy” “you already are doll”

Next thing you know you’re getting pounded into oblivion with a camera positioned at the both of you, billy had your legs around his hips as he was in a sitting up position absolutely rearranging your organs “Fuck, Fucking hell” you almost scream out as you feel his tip hit that spongey spot deep inside you “yeah, did I find it?” He groans out “yes! Yeah! Right there!” You whine as he starts rubbing your clit so fast that you swear his hand blurs.

“Oh my god! Billy, I’m cumming, yeah!” You say as you clench so hard around his you almost push him out completely

“Fuck, Jesus Christ” he moans. You can tell he’s about to cum by the way he’s twitching inside you “where do you want me doll” he groans as he pulls your head back exposing your neck as your eyes roll completely back in your head and your hair sticks to your face from sweat and mixed saliva

“Inside, please, fill me up” you moan as you being to cum mid sentence, white hot pleasure taking over your body and Billy’s cum filling you up only adds to the feeling.

You only take less than a minute before you’re grabbing the camera again and pressing record as you climb on top of him shoving his dick back inside you. He grabs the camera from your hold to switch the view pointing it at your cunt bouncing up and down on him.

The sound of the wet smacking from your creamy cum at his base fills the room as you viscously ride him as he begins to flick at your clit again and shows the camera the prominent bulge deep in your stomach.

The next thing you guys filmed was billy face fucking you to oblivion and the last thing filmed was billy pointing the camera down at you giggling with a wide smile and he rubbed his hand up and down ur body that was covered in sweat and thick layers of your shared cum

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

Way too many rounds later you and billy took a shower (and definitely didn’t go for 2 more) and went out for a smoke without thinking twice about the video camera lying on your dirtied hotel bed and most definitely didn’t think that Jonah berg would be the one to find it when he went looking for you two

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

“Rockstars steamy x rated film leaked as many tell their opinions” you read out to billy and the band from a rolling stone magazine

Everyone had a shocked look in their face while billys face was pink with rage and looked ready to commit murder

“If it helps I haven’t heard one bad thing about it” Daisy says

“Yeah I mean you guys looked rockin So I don’t see why anyone would be too brutal….” Warren rambles before slowing down once he realized everyone was staring at him

“You watched my brothers sex tape…?” Graham says just above a whisper absolutely horrified

“Okay- we’ll- hear me out” Warren stutters out with his pointer finger in the air trying to make a point

“NOPE NOPE” Graham cuts him of by dramatically gagging and running out of the room

Warren turns back to the band once Graham left with a wide guilty grin on his face

“So um..” he begins

“I don’t care that you watched it Warren, I would be surprised if you hadn’t watched it” you say rolling your eyes

“Right okay” he strains out defeated

“Okay… as I was saying, I haven’t heard anything bad, I mean obviously it’s an awful thing but there is little to none slut shaming which is surprising, everyone is just being horny but hey it’s better than everyone calling you a whore” Daisy shrugs

“Okay but did everyone forget what we are here for, you guys have tour press today in less than 3 hours” you stress to the band

Billy wraps with hand around your neck and kisses your head.

It’s not like you and billy are deathly afraid of public pda, it’s actually the quite opposite, you couldn’t even count the amount of times you guys had been caught with his tongue down your throat, hand wrapped around your neck and practically dry humping you In the middle of downtown Los Angeles.

“We are gonna figure something out with that psycho, I promise.” He mumbles into your hair.

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

“Daisy over here!” “Billy to your left!”

“What do you have to say about the leaked videos?” “Who’s the man you married Daisy?”

“Okay okay ONE at a time please” rod interrupts

“What do you all have to say about the leaked explicit tape of your lead man and his girlfriend and it possibly ruining her image?” one reporter asks the band as if billy isn’t right there

“Why should it ruin her image? It was an intimate moment between the two that got leaked by a fucking pervert, I’ve only heard people talk about y/n and nothing about billy, it’s NATURAL, y/n is an extremely talented and good looking woman, you guys are talking about it like you’re a bunch of fuckin virgins.” Daisy says to all the reporters

“And we will be expecting to see Jonah berg in court” Is the only thing billy said before rod cut time.

2006

Warren: The berg-dunne-l/n lawsuit was the biggest thing of the decade and even in pop culture, I mean I still hear about it now”

Daisy: billy and y/n were very shameless people, they had the guts most people didn’t have, that being said; for all 7 days the case lasted they had every second broadcasted on live television

Y/n: what can i say? My kink is karma” she shrugs

Warren: I remember that the day they had me testify when we were leaving the building it was just a sea of paparazzi and flashing cameras, they even had security trying to pave a way to the car through all the paps, I also remember that once the security guard moved out the way and y/n came into their view- I will always remember this, it was truly an iconic moment but one of them just yelled out “y/n what’s up baby!” and then the blinding lights got ten times worse” he says with a chuckle

Karen: it was just insane that even despite the fact that they showed up to court everyday high cocaine they still managed to win the case getting 4 million dollars which mind you, was worth what 17 million today would be from rolling stone and Jonah berg” She says in disbelief

Daisy: remember when I said they were both very shameless people?

Eddie: yeah well after the case people and when I say people I mean like two news outlets called them embarrassed prudes or something like that and them being stubborn decided to really shut them up. In better words they decided to be the cover of the fall ‘76 playboy issue” he says thinning his lips

Rod: if I recall correctly I’m pretty sure that was the most popular playboy magazine of all time, I mean it was everywhere, every gas station, every corner you turned, they even had one of those big posters put up on the walls out by Venice beach area

Graham: yeah, um it wasn’t fun seeing my brother and his girlfriend naked every corner I turned.” He strains out

Billy: well it was definitely an interesting year, even after the case was closed we still had paparazzi following our every move, sometimes it would be worse than others, I remember we were at a party once after a show in Vegas and me and y/n were absolutely trashed, basically blackout drunk and high but the cameras were there and the next morning we of course saw our faces plastered on the cover of star magazine” he says slightly laughing

Y/n: yeah that was definitely a magazine cover! But we were practically hanging off each other trying not to completely collapse on the floor

Narrator: do you ever wish you were never famous and lived a normal life?

Y/n: Well to be honest no.

Billy: even though it was a very hectic year that was probably the best year in that era, I got married to my wife that year

Y/n: that would be meeeeee” she says cheekily

Karen: I had a joke that was saying “rub it in their face put a rock on her hand” because them two were basically a married couple at that point and they took that seriously

Extra

Narrator: let’s talk about the incident of ‘76

Jonah berg: next question.

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

Y/n: it was all very-“ she’s cut off by billy running behind her and quickly grabbing her face and hastily kissing her and then running off before she can even process what happened.

★ ✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

During the break with the interview y/n and billy are talking and out of the blue she sits up remember something

“Do you remember the time we had a threesome with Daisy” she laughs out

✰ ✦ ♡ ♤ *ੈ✩‧₊˚.

LMFAO the way it took me over a month to finish this😭 chi I had testing and I was busy fighting and doxxing swifties on stantwt but now I wanna write a billy x reader x daisy smut 🙁 but I do apologize for this now stop harassing me in my asks for this fic anyway see you next time fatties

#finnick odair x reader #billy dunne x reader #billy dunne fanfic #billy dunne smut #finnick odair smut #daisy jones and the six x reader #daisy jones and the six fanfic

52 notes · View notes

zaynesaurora · 1 day

Note

zayne will never let you go to bed upset. if you two have an argument, he’ll let you two cool off for a bit before apologizing. sometimes you fall asleep from being so exhausted from crying. when he comes to apologize and finds you sleeping, he’ll kneel down on the floor beside the bed and gently wake you up. he’ll caress your cheek and apologize to you. he’ll tell you how sorry he is for upsetting you. he’ll kiss you gently and tell you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him. he’ll cuddle up with you in bed and hold you, gently whispering in your ear to get some rest so you two could talk about it more in the morning. he’ll your back and shush you to sleep, his body pressed up against yours.

he’ll hold your hands while you two talk about it. you two will communicate about your feelings while he rubs his thumb against the back of your hands. when you forgive him he’ll hug you and gently sway you, kissing your temple and holding you close to him. he’ll close his eyes and just relax as he feels you finally relax in his arms. he’ll thank every god in the universe that you forgave him. he hates making you upset. poor man always feels so guilty. like he genuinely feels like he deserves jail time for it. he’ll spend the rest of the day (or week since he’s extra as fuck) making it up to you. although zayne is very reserved, he will always pour his heart out to you. he is a firm believer that communication is key. he’s willing to tell you every single thought of his.

he’s so ideal bf husband material love of my life the sweetest man ever the winner for the best partner in the whole universe the cover of sexiest man alive😭

- 🦦

— im gonna BURST into TEARS nonnie,, why arent men real 😞😞 he’s so selfless, his own emotions and sense of preservation are always second to his partner he would literally fight a god aaaah let him be happy please i beg let him have normality and a person to call home :( even when its a little rough and bumpy :(

(btw you should start writing fics if you dont already bc your ability to make me feel every time you send stuff is insanity i somehow fall in love with him more every single time)

#asks—#🦦 — nonnie #love and deepspace

47 notes · View notes

merbear25 · 2 days

Note

Could I request prompt 18 with Vash? Maybe something sweet and sappy and a little angsty <3

Hello, hello! I understand that this didn't make it on the 200 followers list, but I couldn't resist writing it for Vash! He needs to be shown so much more love. I hope you like it 💜💜

Collections of a lovesick man

CW: SFW, gn!reader, a tad angsty, fluff

There was barely anything worthwhile in your town; each day was relatively bleak and was refected in the people. So when a charismatic laugh echoed down the alley, you stopped in your tracks. Curiosity got the best of you as you went to locate such a memorable display of joy.

Laying eyes on him, the man you'd later learn to be Vash was exchanging laughs with the formly gloomy residents. Going up to him, you were eager to get to know the man who unabashedly welcomed others―such warmth was what separated him from anyone else you'd met before.

He seemed friendly enough, but the following day you saw the whole town turning on him, accusing him of being a devil. Based on the brief interactions you had, he came across as a genuine person. Doubts of whether or not you should go to him were ignored as you went against your better judgement to offer a place for this gentle stranger to reside in.

After some convincing, you eventually wore him down. The time spent together was short, yet he still managed to leave a significant impression on you. When it came to him leaving, every fiber of your being was calling out to you to go with him. You knew the risks, but you couldn't help wanting to keep his vision of peace afloat. You wanted to keep that hope alive.

Allowing you to go with him was something he couldn't even wrap his head around. That being said, seeing his passion for love and peace mirrored back in you gave him the sense of home.

The more time you spent together, the closer you became: sharing dreams for the future and stories from the past. He was quickly earning a special place in your heart, and unbeknownst to you, you in his. Despite his habit of keeping people at arms length, he still craved connection just like everyone else. When you began journaling, noting down each and every detail the two of you encountered, he became curious. Not wanting to invade your privacy, he left you to it, writing your little heart away.

There was a time when you tossed one of your notes out, though. Unable to fight off his inquisitiveness, he took it out of the waste basket and read it. You jotted down your thoughts on what you'd set out to do with him: your hopes for success and fears of failure. Being able to have more insight into your innermost personal views felt wrong, yet he thought they should be cherished, not thrown away.

Whenever you threw out one of your notes, it was rescued by him, each one giving him a better understanding of where your head was. Spending time with you after reading these notes filled him with conflicting emotions: guilt and regret mixed with endearment and affection. With each passing day, the draw towards you had more of a pull, making it harder to hold off his rising interest in you.

Looking for something specific, you had a hunch it would be in Vash's room. Once opening a drawer, you saw a bunch of carefully folded paper that appeared to have once been wadded up. Thinking it strange to fold crinkled paper, you picked it up―then the others followed suit.

When you didn't return, Vash went to look for you, stumbling in on you discovering his little secret.

His apology for keeping such private thoughts of yours was caught in his throat, making you break the silence.

"You mean to tell me you've kept every single note?" Your tone showed no ill feelings, simply painting you in a light of bewilderment.

His heart was pounding, while he remained incapable of coming up with a proper excuse. "I did."

"Why?"

"I know you wanted to throw them away, but they seemed important. They are your feelings, after all." Looking down at the floor, shame crept in.

"Your hopes and dreams are just as important as your fears and woes." Still unable to meet your gaze, he assumed your eyes held betrayl and disgust. "I'm sorry."

Closing the gap between you, you placed a tender hand on his arm. Unsure what you could say to this, you motioned to embrace him, giving him space to refuse if he so wished.

When he finally brought his eyes to yours, the gentleness they held made him melt. In spite of his ever present fear of growing close to others, it wouldn't hurt to let you in, would it?

Opening his arms to welcome your solace lifted his spirits, set his busy mind to rest, and helped to bandage his lingering wounds.

Tightening your arms around him, you opened yourselves up to one another, allowing your vulnerabilities to be on full display. However frightening it felt, you were sure you were placing your heart in trustworthy hands.

#vash x reader #vash x you #trigun #trigun x reader #trigun x you #vash the stampede #trigun fluff #trimax #trigun maximum #vash #x reader

22 notes · View notes

donquixotehomura · 2 days

Text

Donquixote Doflamingo x Reader His Type

Master List

this kinda got away from me lol, it's also messy, Nsfw part warning I marked it tho no worries, the kinda trigger warnings that accompany Doffy apply but not all of them, also blood and death not Doffy or reader..... ish. as always please tell me if you find any mistakes and to address my hiatus I got sick then busy then sick again it was a rough ride lol

Feisty, headstrong, bratty, Loyal, obedient, smart, supportive, sympathetic, insane.

SFW AKA FLUFFY

He likes how loyal you are to him, how nothing and no one will make you betray him, how you’d defy the whole world for him and how you’d die for him. He likes that you’re not with him because he’s a god or king, not because of his wealth or influence, not because he’s strong or a conqueror, you love his strength yes, but you love more than just that, you love all of him.

He likes how nice you are to him, how you always listen to him and how you help him, how you don’t pity him for what happened but your reaction is just sadness because he suffered, it’s out of your pure feelings of love towards him which baffled him for a long time when he found out after he was done suspecting you had ulterior motives. It takes him a while to get used to this and accept it, especially how you encourage him to open up and that it’s not weakness to have problems and it’s part of being alive, how he can be vulnerable with you without consequences. If he just wants to talk, you’ll listen attentively and it doesn’t matter how long after if he brings it up again you’ll remember everything, if he wants feedback you’ll give him feedback and advice. He’s conflicted because you taught him it’s OK to be vulnerable and show weakness to you, that he doesn’t have to be strong the whole time, especially that he wanted to portray himself as strong for you to show he can protect you and that he’s the best, that you won’t find anyone like him, so you don’t ever leave him, you assure him you won’t ever leave and he believes you. Your love for him persists even tho you know he’s not as strong as he portrays himself, and that he has these *human* feelings, how he’s still tortured by nightmares of his past, how sleep escapes him on many nights and when he does sleep he almost always jolts awake in terror struggling to calm his heartbeat and control his breathing, how when that happens you don’t comment on it and just drag him into your arms and never acknowledge the nightmare waiting for him to do it when he’s ready, how you stop him from drowning out the terror with alcohol and give him an alternative, talking about random things asking about what he’s going to do tomorrow even tho you know his schedule or even read to him or tell him a story, but you never judge him no matter what you never look at him any less and never leave or betray him. How you still look at him with the same admiration and love you always did and even more, he questions if you’re sound of mind to be so genuinely in love with someone like him, he knows his flaws and wonders if you don’t, he asks you once and you just tell him that you know and acknowledge his flaws and you love him, flaws and all.

He realizes how much he loves you and that scared him, he avoided you for a couple of days till you basically pursued him and sat him down to talk asking if something was troubling him and if it's you, he doesn't confess outright but he makes it very clear, and he's thankful for your perceptiveness because he didn't have to say it for you to understand how he feels and how confessing won't be easy at least for a while.

In the end he hates that you're loyal and love him enough that you're willing to die for him, he doesn't want to lose you, just thinking about it puts him in pain.

NSFW

He likes his toys obedient and serving, however if you want to be more than just a toy you have to have your own sense of self and not just a mindless fool, he likes feisty and bratty, he likes his partner to have her own sense of self while still being loyal to him, he likes someone who has their own thoughts however if you always question him that’ll annoy him, there’s a delicate balance, he also likes it when you tease him and are bratty, there’s nothing he enjoys more than punishing your teasing till you’re begging for more or for him to slow down depending on which way he decided to punish you either way in the end he’ll be fucking the brat out of you till you can no longer think. His queen can be as bratty as she wants, and she gets everything she wants, however all actions have consequences, the brattier you are the more he’ll punish you, his punishments are pure blissful torture. Nothing turns him on more than seeing you be sadistic, killing enemies brutally? Turns him on, getting covered in blood in the process? Sends shivers down his spine and straight to his cock, torturing a traitor or enemy for information? He knows for a fact that you're secretly watching him and can see his straining boner especially when you throw him a knowing glance and smiling teasingly while standing over the poor soul that’s suffering, same goes for you for all the above, especially when he uses his devil fruit how the strings can be so dangerous and sharp enough to cut through anything but he has enough control that he can make them dull enough that he can use them on you without leaving a single cut or a few scratches if he wishes, licking your blood also turns him on. When you bite him during sex, that’s a privilege held by no other, he discovered he liked it when he was fucking you hard in an empty hallway in some base of an underworld dealer he was making a deal with and got bored and annoyed so during a break, he dragged you with him to an empty hallway pinned you to the wall and told you to be quiet as he quickly pulled down your pants and his fingers found your wetness you lack of panties and being already wet wasn’t lost on him, soon enough he was balls deep inside you while you muffled your moans by burying your face in his neck, his shirt jacket and coat having already been discarded at this point, he never slowed down even as you both heard voices going up and down the other hallways, as you felt yourself about to come you clung harder to him while he encouraged you and also teased you that you’ll get caught if you’re too loud, you came hard and instinctively bit down on his shoulder so hard you drew blood, the sudden unexpected feeling made him follow you emptying himself inside you, quickly realizing what you did you went to apologize but before a word left you, you heard him laughing quietly in your ear, looking at you with that usual grin was an immediate relief what he said next shocked you “so my feisty kitten likes to bite fufufufu ...I’ll keep that in mind for later tonight” he finished his sentence by kissing your red stained lips tasting his blood on them, good news is his clothes covered your handiwork and yours covered his, otherwise everyone would have known what went down a few feet away from them

#one piece x reader #one piece #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #doffy #doflamingo x reader #doflamingo #doflamingo one piece #doflamingo fluff #op doflamingo #doflamingo donquixote

27 notes · View notes

not-handsome-enough · 3 days

Text

DICK KNUBBLER MAYE STILL BE ALIVE

Kinda

Alright before I do anything take this with a grain of salt, cause it’s probably a continuity error / can be easily explained away BUT if you all would like to hold onto some hope please just hear me out. And also it offers a question for yall.

Alright! So!

On twitter someone had asked Brendon and Gene about Murmaider III and its placement on Dethalbum IV ( which btw shoutout to Gene’s wife that was brilliant ) and Brendon had mentioned that what sets 3 apart from the other two was that it was more dreamlike, and that it was made AFTER Army of the Doomstar. Now since Brendon and Gene weren’t the ones to make the order on the Album we can’t set a timeline for the songs ( though they are set in Brutal to Dreamlike order once again shoutout to Genes wife you goddess ) we can at least say that some songs were made post Army. In fact we could also make some assumptions about what songs were made DURING army. So I’ll separate that list here.

NOTE : YALL DONT NEED TO READ THIS PART THIS IS JUST ME RUNNING WITH “ some songs were made post AOTD which ones could they be teehee “ JUST KNOW MURMAIDER AND SOS WERE AFTER KUBBLER DIED OK SORRy I’m not deleting that whole thing I like it

Songs with “ * “ are canon, the rest are personal interpretation.

DURING ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Aortic Desecration ( the first song of salvation but obviously not )

* SOS ( song of salvation )

Gardener of Vengeance ( Nathan directly references this during the scene where he confides in the band and Knubbler that he doesn’t write songs about hope and he’s just doing what he knows. I believe he wrote and recorded this but felt it wasn’t good enough to be the song of salvation and moved on. HOWEVER the language he used could place this as post AOTD because it sounds more like a thrown out there example kinda like how he figured out SOS in the cave )

Poisoned By Food ( Again I think this is a scrapped song of salvation since besides the actual poisoning of food a lot of the imagery feels like the what the metalocalypse was described like )

BLOODBATH ( guess what another scrapped song of salvation. This one feels like a ‘you don’t scare me I’m going to confidently stop you because if I go down you go down with me’ song. Also it could be Nathan trying to reach out to Magnus since he was one of the people on his list. Also quick note I’m going song by song so I don’t know if I’ll notice if any other songs would reflect the list I just got out of work so I’m not gonna catch it all rn )

Horse of Fire ( this is tricky because lyrics like star still blazing allude to this being written before aortic desecration but also Nathan didn’t have the talk with the whale until the deadline came up in which he had to go with aortic desecration <he wouldn’t have had time to write about the fist or the hand.> But the lyrics don’t have the <we should reach out to the fans> revelation that SOS has. Maybe this was a draft for SOS but I think once Nathan figured out what SOS was meant to be it just came to him naturally. I’m not sure. HOWEVER since the doomstar is referred to as a star that is still blazing and not a portal that’s been destroyed it’s safe to say this is not post AOTD. Either way this is an important song to keep in mind if you look at this speculating )

POST ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR:

* Murmaider III ( stated by Brendon Small in the interview. He said he feels that the boys would have written this after AOTD and based off of interviews he’s had in the past about his songwriting process it’s hard to not take this as canon so. )

DEADFACE ( I think this is post because while the song plays during the movie only Skwisgaar knew about the possession so the lyrics wouldn’t quite make sense yet. It’s a tricky placement but I can see Skwisgaar playing around with it since he does play the notes during the movie )

Mutilation on a Saturday Night ( this feels so much like a we survived so now we’re gonna party song I can’t see Nathan Skwisgaar or Pickles make an argument for this being a Song of Salvation. Also all the fucked up shit they talk about references what happened during the metalocalypse but it’s spoken in past tense like a ‘hey we fucked shit up but we fixed it so now we’re just gonna keep fucking around haha’)

I am The Beast ( simply cause I don’t see this as something Nathan would write during AOTD but the ‘ I am a beast this is my domain and when I speak you scream my name ‘ could work as a salvation line but it feels too much like a Mutilation Saturday Night ‘I can write whatever I want cause I lived and I’m not gonna hold back’ vibe )

Satellite Bleeding ( this feels like the first song they would have written and recorded after the doomstar died. Kinda like watching the sky clear up after a storm. )

Now despite me rambling on about this I would like to draw attention to what’s canon. Specifically SOS and Murmaider III. These songs came out after Knubbler died. Yet Dethalbum IV credits Knubbler for production.

Drawing your attention to how crediting in the Dethalbum works, each album has a little section for Dethklok to get musical credits and thank whoever and whatever. There’s also production credit and location credit. On ALL of the Dethalbums Knubbler is credited as producer. Cause he’s the producer makes sense yeayeyaeyah. But whenever there’s a change in location or production, there’s additional credits.

ANOTHER NOTE: I DONT HAVE THE KLOK OPERA CD I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THE CREDITING SYSTEM LOOKS LIKE ON THERE but if someone happens to be selling that cd outside of eBay please let me know

Let’s look at them.

Dethalbum I ^

Shit ton of credits right, and on the other page which I didn’t take a picture of and can’t because I’m not home at the moment there’s credit to Snakes N Barrels for “Kill You” with each member listed. Take note that songs that are considered exceptions are credited differently and locations not at Mordhaus are credited.

I lied I have the other page. For those without the dethalbum cds the actual credits are usually on another page and “Kill You” got mixed in with it

Anyways

Dethalbum II

Hey Knubbies gets to thank someone this time! Anyways once again Knubbler is credited for production, but also Dethklok. Keep this in mind. Also the fact that different location credited for Murmaider II but it’s recorded at Mordhaus

Dethalbum III

Knubbler credit AND Abigail credit along with Dethklok AND once again location credit is Mordhaus and another fuckass place. Only thing that’s not really credited is Magnus with The Hammer but idk if he was like Toki and William where they play the songs but don’t really write or if he actually wrote The Hammer. I’m not a HammerHead, I’ve seen people interpret him as both, but at the end of the day idrk.

So what about Dethalbum IV

Knubbler is credited. At Deus Keep. Only Knubbler. Only at Deus Keep. “But he’s not credited as a Producer” True! If the album was released in universe it would probably be a producer credit. Especially since Brendon and Ulrich have Producer credit on the page prior. Maybe it’s because Knubbler didn’t make it to the final production stage. Or maybe he’s staying hidden undercover..

Remember earlier. He canonically was not around for two of these songs on this album. He could not have recorded OR mixed SOS or Murmaider III. Even if you don’t fully think that Murmaider III was made Post AOTD, SOS was done post Knubbler death. Hell, the song was dedicated to him by William! But there’s no separate credit for SOS.

If we went on the same basis as previous albums SOS would have been credited to that part of Norway where they traveled to that I forgot the name of and I’m not gonna look up but you get the point. Or even Dethklok would have been credited as production. I could also say something about how Murmaider III wasn’t recorded in the Mariana Trench and how the whale isn’t calling to Nathan anymore but that’s for another day. Right now though, it’s just Knubbler. Just Knubbler and Deus Keep.

Which leads to 3 possibilities.

Knubbler Lives: Knubbler survived ( the flashing things on the ground were teleporters ) and Deus Keep is rebuilt. To celebrate their survival they make Dethalbum IV but don’t release it

Knubbler Died: The band recorded the last few songs on the album at the remains of Deus Keep. Knubblers presets aren’t changed so credit remains to him. Once again not releasing it.

It’s not an album: Dethalbum IV doesn’t exist in universe. That’s why there’s no producer credit. That’s why Nathan doesn’t thank the klokateers ( he thanks the army of the doomstar which is just him thanking fans ). Dethklok recording it post AOTD is more to do with how Brendon records dethalbums than in universe writing.

I like to think that this is just an unreleased album in universe since the record label is more than likely destroyed, but it has the possibility of releasing one day if society is rebuilt to what it once was. But it really depends on if you think the album is canon to the universe. Cause there’s no Mordhaus credit on Dethalbum IV and there’s no way for SOS to have been recorded at Deus Keep and blablabla

something fun to think about tho yk?

TLDR: two songs on dethalbum IV were made after Knubbler death yet the credit doesn’t change for him in the dethalbum so there’s a chance that he recorded and mixed those songs cause he is alive and well horray

#metalocalypse #take this with a massive grain of salt #take it with a rock of salt tbh #dick knubbler #I’m rambling like crazy but :(#also I just noticed on dethalbum IV it’s the first time Murderface isn’t placed last in credits #I’ll be honest if Knubbler wasn’t credited at all on dethalbum IV I would have cried very much #I FORGOT TO SPOILER THIS I AM SO SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR SPOILER #SORRY #ARMY OF THE DOOMSTAR

22 notes · View notes

clu-ven · 1 day

Text

The Bad Batch discovering you stayed loyal to Empire HCs

2.7k words !

The jungle is coloured in hues of silver, the overhead canopy filtering in just enough moonlight to see. Despite hearing the Marauder flying above, he can’t see the ship yet and thus, the chase is still on.

Branches crack under his heavy boots. Vines sway as he sprints past them. He can feel his lungs burn but he ignores it, urging his body onwards.

He knows you're closing in. Well, he doesn’t know you are… whenever he manages to glance behind as he runs, all the clone sees is the new assassin sent by the Empire gaining on him.

He follows the instructions that are hurriedly given through his comm. “Just another few metres and there’s a clearing, we’ll get you there!” his brother’s voice assures him. It doesn’t seem like a difficult task but as he stumbles out onto the clearing and realises it’s a cliff edge, things become interesting.

You know better than to run straight out after him and instead opt to stay close to the tree line. As the Marauder hovers closer to him, a sigh escapes your lips.

Maybe you won’t be able to capture him this time but as he looks back at you, you decide to take off your helmet and show him exactly who this new assassin is...

HUNTER

Hunter thought the Empire couldn’t hurt him anymore. But here you are. He presumed he lost you a long time ago but now you’re standing in front of him, a slight scowl darkening your face as you stand your ground.

For a moment, Hunter forgets that he’s just a few feet away from escaping this close encounter. All of his thoughts are consumed by you. How are you still alive? And why are you working for the Empire?!

He says your name in a mere whisper, the engines of the ship behind him easily drowning out his words. But you don’t need to hear his words to know how Hunter feels.

There is a look of misery and regret in Hunter’s eyes, a sad acceptance of things that could have gone a different way.

You know this is your chance. He’s completely vulnerable, shock distracting him from his hypervigilant senses. If you wanted to take the shot, this was your chance… but you don’t. Instead you simply stare, a feeling you thought you long buried rising within you.

If this happened when the Batch first strayed from the Empire, before they truly knew the cruel dictatorship they were up against, Hunter would have offered you his hand and tried his best to convince you to come with them.

But now? This far into the tyranny of the Empire? It’s a painful realisation but Hunter knows you’ve already chosen a side. He’s already been through the turmoil of this with Crosshair, he can’t go through that again just for you to reject his help.

Hunter knows that leaving the Empire has to be a decision you make. Not him.

And so Hunter makes his escape, grabbing onto the rope Wrecker has thrown down for him. He knows this won’t be the last time you two meet, and he knows you’re letting him go on purpose.

Hunter knows you too well and he knows that you could have fought harder if you wanted to.

Slowly watching as you turn back and retreat into the darkness of the jungle, Hunter sighs, hoping that maybe the you he knows and lov-… *ahem*, the you he knows is still in there somewhere, deep deep down.

WRECKER

Wrecker smiles when he spots you but that quickly turns to shock and sadness. Looking back at the others on the ship, Wrecker gives them a confused look that reads ‘are you seeing what I’m seeing?!’. Wrecker is every emotion.

After all this time apart, you’re right in front of him and yet you’re not. Wrecker’s smile slowly dims, his initial joy slowly fading as he comes to the realisation that it was you chasing him through the jungle so ferociously.

Wrecker’s face grows sullen. How has it come to this? He doesn’t understand but he knows this isn’t you. It can’t be! You must’ve gone through the same treatment as Crosshair or maybe they have something they’re using against you.

He refuses to believe you’re doing this because you want to and so against his better judgement, Wrecker ignores the shouts of his brothers to retreat and heads straight for you.

With renewed determination, Wrecker manages to dodge a few of your attacks. He tries to disarm you without actually hurting you.

He can’t just leave you here, not when you’re like this and in the Empire’s grasp. Wrecker would never forgive himself if he leaves without you.

Despite having trained with you in the past, this is a completely different experience. This isn’t sparring. This is a fight. You slash your blade through the air each time he nears you, Wrecker moving as swiftly as he can. You’re like a wild animal being cornered, your eyes darting around as you try to maintain the upper hand.

The Marauder lowers to the ground as Hunter and Crosshair jump out, ready to help their brother (and to also make sure Wrecker doesn’t get himself killed).

With their help, Wrecker manages to disarm you... and he may have accidentally knocked you unconscious too. He swears he didn’t mean to put you in a headlock that tight! But honestly, it’s probably a happy accident that’ll make this a lot easier.

Even though the others are dubious about having you on the ship, Wrecker is adamant that they have to help you and make you see what the Empire truly is. You would have done the same for any of them and so it’s only right that they help you now.

With AZI scanning you for any serious injuries (or microchips), Wrecker sits beside you and patiently waits for you to awake, his head hanging low as he tries to come to terms with this new revelation.

ECHO

Seeing you again is like defeating impossible odds and it makes Echo come to a sudden realisation. The moment is an unexpected one, yet somehow deeply familiar.

Echo wonders if this is how Rex felt when he realised Echo was still alive and on Skako Minor.

He wants to reach out to you, to offer you his hand... but he doesn’t. Instead, Echo hesitates. The powerful urge to act on his impulse lingers for a moment before rational thinking catches up to his heart and he stops himself.

He can’t help it as his concern grows for you. The unfortunate thing is, Echo knows that you might not even want his help. Maybe it’s too late and Echo wouldn’t be able to sway you from your stance in all of this.

Echo is still plagued by how he was forced to help the Separatist forces during the war and so much of the concern he feels for you stems from his dreary past.

Slowly taking a few steps in your direction, Echo approaches you with caution. He’s careful to maintain a constant vigilance over your hands and movements, being aware of how quickly this could go wrong. He tries to ask why you’re with the Empire, if you’re aware of what they’re doing to the clones.

Echo knows that you care about the clones, or that at least you did at some point. Even if your beliefs have changed, he’s confident you would never stand for what the Empire is doing to his brothers. If he can just get you to hear him out, then he’s certain you can both get to some sort of an understanding.

The last thing Echo wants to do is argue, especially with how high tensions are. Echo knows you. Of course he does. You two have been through so much. And so he knows that all he needs to do is fill you in on the mistreatment of the clones and you’ll turn your back on the Empire… right?

Despite the fact that you were just chasing him, Echo doesn't want this to be a “you vs him” sort of thing. If you listen to him and open your eyes to what the Empire truly is, then Echo can assure you that with some time, you can be brought into the fold of the rebellion. This isn’t the end and he assures you that any trust that may have faltered can be restored.

Of course Echo wants you to join them immediately, hence why he initially went to offer you his hand. But for that to actually happen, he needs to see some sort of cooperation from you, whether that be a plea for help, you lowering your weapons to the ground or simply engaging in conversation when he informs you about the clones.

If you choose to go with them, Echo would call for some back up from the ship, reassuring you as Hunter and Wrecker join him. It’s only a precaution in case some kind of sleeper agent training activates. It’s going to take a while for them to trust you again so be prepared for a lot of “precautions”.

But if you choose to stay with the Empire? Well, at least Echo knows he tried.

TECH

Tech should have seen this coming. The Empire’s latest play of deploying assassins to hunt them down has resulted in an essential need for stealth.

Not only is that one of your strong suits but your great track record and prior relationship with the Batch makes you the perfect candidate to locate and eliminate them. In hindsight, Tech feels as though you were the obvious choice.

Tech contemplates holding his ground against you but with the Marauder so close, he realises that retreating is the most logical option. He is mindful of his movements, slowly taking steps backwards as to not startle you or trigger you into action.

After hearing about how the Empire’s harsh ways of conditioning people, Tech is aware that whatever they may have subjected you to may have drastically changed you. The likelihood that you might not be the you Tech once knew is unfortunately high.

Tech's mindset is one of caution and pragmatism, balancing the risks and benefits of each option. So while he would ideally want you to lay down your weapons and come with them peacefully, he needs to think about his brother’s and Omega’s safety; something that could be jeopardised further if you joined them.

Not only would you joining them cause potential problems for them, but Tech is conscious of how that would endanger you too.

What if you’re chipped with a tracker? Would the Empire be able to track you down easily, and thus them too? He refuses to make such an impulsive decision and ask you to come with them.

In an ideal world, this would never happen. You would never be with the Empire. But here you are, and this is something Tech isn’t going to dismiss simply because he thought you were a close ally back in the day.

Once Tech is sure he’s close enough to the ship, he swiftly boards the platform. You watch the ship slowly rise higher and higher, the look on your face one that Tech is unable to read.

Before he loses sight of you, Tech gives you a simple nod. It’s not a nod of respect - how can it be when you’re doing the Empire’s dirty work?! - but it is one of recognition. Recognition of what was once between you both as well as the familiarity of an old pawn of the Republic seeing a new pawn of the Empire.

He needs to think, to analyse this new development. Tech remains calm as the Marauder soars away from you and through hyperspace. The others all speak over each other at this new development but Tech is quiet.

Right now, his main concern is to come up with potential ways of meeting you again in hopefully less hostile circumstances and to find out what exactly is going on.

CROSSHAIR

Crosshair wishes this was a surprise to him. But honestly? You and him were always close, having a deeper understanding of each other than most. And so if the Empire was able to keep him for so long then he unfortunately sees how they’ve been able to keep their grasp on you too.

He takes a moment to analyse your stillness. You’re simply standing there, watching; as if you’re waiting for him to make the first move.

Despite the scowl on your face, Crosshair acknowledges that you haven’t moved for your blaster yet. Perhaps you’re conflicted?

You took off your helmet for a reason. You wanted him to know that it’s you. For Crosshair, that’s enough to deduce that maybe you’re doubting the Empire and the mission they’ve given you.

If there’s anyone who can sympathise with your predicament, it’s Crosshair. And while he doesn’t know all the facts or why you’re here, he knows first hand how the Empire has basically drilled it into people’s heads that they’re the good guys and so he can’t blame you for carrying those beliefs.

Crosshair has heard this plea before. He’s heard it countless times but that was when his brothers were the ones trying to convince him to abandon the Empire. But now he’s on the opposite side and trying to persuade you to leave the Empire.

He opens his hands, almost as if surrendering but in reality he just wants to show you he’s not reaching for a weapon either. All he wants to do is talk and to make sure you’re aware that just because you’re on opposite sides doesn’t mean you’re necessarily enemies.

Unfortunately this is the part that Crosshair is bad at. Talking. Reasoning. Not being sarcastic or saying a snide comment. He isn’t as compassionate as Hunter, nor can he find the right words like Echo usually can in situations like this.

“I thought you were too smart to fall for the Empire’s lies,” Crosshair can practically hear Omega sigh in the Marauder at his choice of words but it’s how he’s always talked to you. Neither of you have ever minced your words before. Clearing his throat, he tries again, keeping his words genuine and making sure you know he wants to help.

Even if you’re receptive to his truce, Crosshair is hesitant to bring you with them. Not because you may be conditioned to bend to the Empire’s every whim but because he fears what they may do to you if they realise you've went AWOL. Crosshair knows exactly what it’s like to get on the bad side of the Empire and it’s something he would never wish on you.

Whatever your decision is, Crosshair respects it. He won’t pester you to change your mind.

Crosshair still believes in you and whatever it is you decide to do, he’ll trust. Whether you’re on opposite sides of the galaxy, a war, or a game of Dejarik, Crosshair will always have trust in you.

42 notes · View notes

nin-carab-nidh-madt · 1 day

Text

I have thought on Jadzia Dax from Star Trek Deep Space 9.

I'm currently rewatching the show (midway season 2), probably my 4th watch through over 8 years? My first time with slightly more youtube-essay-driven media analysis skills. I'm enjoying picking up on a lot more things than I used to but there's one thing that bugs me above all else.

Jadzia Dax doesn't really have a strongly defined character that shines through.

I've spent a while thinking about it. Obviously as a science officer its a little harder to tell stories the audience can understand and relate to compared to Odo's murder investigating or Sisko's exasperated diplomacy, but her stories have issues greater than that.

Both the stories centred on Dax, in season 1 where she stands trial for a crime supposedly committed by a former host, and in season 2 where someone tries to steal her symbiont, are about things that happen to Dax. Not the things Dax does. She is neither the perspective character through which we can see the world of Star Trek, with her own unique views and feelings, nor is she the one actively moving the plot forwards. She's either the victim who sacrifices herselr or quite literally refuses to do anything. Unfortunately this is quite a common failing of writing that's easy to fall into, writing about a character instead of the character making decisions that drive the plot. Its one that sci fi writing at the time seemed to do quite often with a lot (but not all) female characters. Ivanova and Talia from Babylon 5 fall victim to this too, especially in early seasons. In contrast, Major Kira, and even Ezri Dax later on have stronger characterisation and are the centre of their own stories.

I doubt this was intentional, its clear through the successes of writing other characters in the show that the writers, actors, and showrunners are trying to make everyone alive and meaningful, so what went wrong?

Looking at Jadzia Dax's character, I think what's clearly missing is a strong drive for her character. No real desires or vulnerabilities. No questions either. To provide constrasting examples:

Odo (who gets almost too much screen time in season 1) is clearly driven by a sense of justice no matter whatever starfleet rules say. He's in constant conflict with Quark, ever vigilant, somewhat isolated from other people. No one ever asks "Why does Odo do what he does?" His motivations are clear, and they even tie it up with an extra motive that's very plot relevant: the mystery of where he comes from. All things a single episode writer can use and explore.

Major Kira has her own conflict with starfleet, her desire to do right by her own people, to get justice for Bajor, and always stand up for the underdog which creates really good stories as she struggles with her own values and constantly has to make choices that affect the story.

Bashir wants acclaim, accomplishment, romance, and also for everyone to like him. Quark wants profit without putting himself at risk. O'Brien wants to just do his job and go home to his family. Sisko wants to hold everything together with the responsibility of peace and reason on his shoulders while singlehandedly raising his son. Jake wants community, friends, and freedom in his life. Funnily enough Ezri Dax has far better drive. Trying to figure out what she wants in life, handling this enormous change and overwhelming personality, and her own lack of confidence that she's useful to anyone sometimes. She grows and changes more over the course of a season than we ever see in early seasons Jadzia.

What does Jadzia Dax want?

I think in attempting to make a wise 300 year old person who's seen everything, they accidentally wrote themselves into a corner. Jadzia has no strong motivations to do much at all. She does fine as a secondary character, and I love how her friendship with Sisko plays out on screen, but beyond being surprisingly enlightened about a lot of things as the result of age and experience there's no drive there.

And so no drive or motivation, and no stories told from her perspective. We have ourselves a problem.

I thought for a while if I could find a solution to the issue rather than just offer criticism. I originally tried writing an outline for an episode. Jadzia would be a fantastic protagonist for any wacky sci fi short story concept that required a scientist to explore, such as time travel paradoxes, simulations, weird space anomolies that do "plot relevant thing" that she would be perfectly posed to actually explore instead of "technobabble and tap console" until the problem is solved.

Then I decided that all we really needed to have a framework any writer could use is to establish a strong character motivation for her. Here's my shot at it.

Jadzia Dax, in harmony with seven lifetimes of experience, is an extremely competent twenty seven year old woman. She can almost certainly do the job of anyone on the station better than they can. Fix a computer? Better than O'Brien can. First aid? She's there and solved the issue before Julian can get there. Solve a murder? A past host was an invesigator of course she can to Odo's chagrin. She has better ideas of what Sisko can do to bring the Bajorans towards the federation. Hell she's the best representative of federation values on that station and could constantly be presenting that of the story.

Dax struggles to hold herself back when she sees her friends failing at what she can solve the problem for them. She tries not to, that's what her training tells her to do. But out here on the edge of Federation space where there's constantly lives on the line? She finds herself interfering in other people's work more and more often. She just doesn't want it do be done wrong. She pushes herself hard to do too many jobs. She doesn't sleep or eat enough while telling everyone else to take care of themselves better. After a while people start relying on her. It turns from her helping to her having those responsibilities. Pilot. Diplomat. Linguist. Researcher. Mechanic. Leader. So much emotional support for her friends because everything they're suffering she's been through herself. It becomes too much for her and you could make the core of one story her just crashing. Learning how to balance her experience with giving room to other to shine through and solve their own problems, which they're very capable of doing. There's plenty more detail to elaborate on but I think this gives a core drive and conflict that lasts a character a couple of seasons at least to explore and grow through.

I happily invite thoughts as to whether my original observations are astute, or wether you think there aren't any problems with how Jadzia's passivity plays out in the show. If you think there are problems, do you think my perscribed solution helps fix them? How would you go about it?

#star trek #star trek ds9 #ds9 #jadzia dax #babylon 5 #writing

21 notes · View notes