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uranometrias · 5 months ago

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isn't that sweet, i guess so, aaron hotchner

summary: in which you reunite with your big sister's best friend, aaron hotchner for the first time since you graduated high school, and headed off to university. the last time you'd seen him you'd been a seventeen year old with a massive crush, now you were a special agent with doctorates and degrees. when the BAU is paired up with your unit during a case, you find that unit chief aaron is completely different from the aaron you'd looked up to growing up, but for good reason. one thing that never seemed to change though, is how he seems to know you better than anyone else, which is unlucky for you considering he's married with a baby on the way. pairing: aaron hotchner! x cia! female reader category: fluff x crack content warnings: none really? made up case details. mentions of bombings, murder, death, terrorism. there's an age gap of about 7 years between r! + hotch and this takes place in s1... idk it's just a bit of word vomit surrounding hotch finding a woman that's not haley attractive. no cheating though, cause it's literally fleeting, but reader is a bit smitten. author's note. i've got hotchner brain rot, and find myself with thousands of ideas that i never can bring myself to write. the girls that love him can be a bit... scary lol. they do not play about him, but whatever... he's on my mind so here we are.

it''s been so many months omg. i went to basic training and officially became an army girl! now i'm in italy now learning how to be a paralegal (which makes me even more equipped to write badass women with legal knowledge yum!) anyways... i'm sort of back, my schedule is packed, but i'm gonna get back into writing because i've missed it so terribly. xx

He hears you before he sees you. Your voice, despite the years that resided in between the last time he'd heard it hadn't changed much. It had gotten a bit deeper, a sign that you were no longer the bubbly teen he'd last seen you as, you were older, an adult now. Still, there's an undeniable giddiness that rested beneath your words that took him back to days when you were being chased off by your big sister for hanging around too much and "being way too obvious"

Obvious about what? Aaron had never quite figured it out, but he knows it's you nonetheless. You're standing in the middle of the Langley Headquarters, the Central Intelligence Agency office. The last Aaron had heard about you, you'd been on assignment in Qatar, but that was nearly eight months ago. Jobs that required FBI Agents and CIA Case Officers to overlap were usually gruesome, and despite how polite your tone was, he could still place a level of sternness.

"If we're dealing with some sort of cluster, the last thing we want to do is proceed haphazardly." you're speaking to a group of about ten counter-terrorism operatives, voice low so as not to disturb the other pods of agents working. "That said, over the last month there's been a bombing a week in the areas surrounding the capital." you're muttering just as the team is finally breaching the threshold of your particular pod. The building was bustling, flooded with bodies working on what Aaron was certain were different cases.

One of the agents, a man about your age seems to notice the new group, and clears his throat. You turn, eyebrow raising as you take him in. "I'm sorry?" you question as if the noise was some offensive remark made. The agent, whoever he is, seems to freeze up, eyes wide as he points forward in the general direction of the team. Aaron hears Elle's quiet little snort, and wonders how the two of you will manage to work alongside one another. Elle was - or better put, she could be quite volatile. And it seemed the way you'd spoken to your subordinate had already managed to put a sour taste in her mouth.

"I hope we're not interrupting." and you're finally turning, eyes fluttering directly to Gideon. You don't acknowledge anyone else on the team, only Gideon, head tipping to the side just slightly. Your lips push together, eyes then moving to the clock that rested on the desk nearest you.

"Not interrupting, but you're late, and we can't afford to wait around for the F.B.I. to finally give a damn." and your tone isn't snippy at all, but it's clear that you're passionate about your job, and this case. It makes sense that you're in the position that you're in. You turn back to your team, hands clasping together, "Everyone, these are the Bureau agents we were promised." you motion to them loosely. "You'll all be expected to work with them, not against them." you're back to pretending the profilers aren't there, he's not offended.

He can tell though that the others aren't sure how to take you. "This isn't the time for a balls match, and I don't care how long you've worked where." your eyes shoot across the entire group, resting sternly on the same man who's cleared his throat earlier. "They're here because they've mastered the art of getting into the mind of sons of bitches like these. In layman's terms we need them, and I expect you to give them the respect they deserve," it's then that you finally look back at them, eyes sweeping over the group.

Aaron sees it when surprise crosses your features, it happens when you finally lock eyes with him, but you hide it in an instant. "W-We can expect the exact same of them." everyone notices the sudden waver in your tone, but your face is so set they've got no time to unpack it. "I don't want to hear about any of you getting beside yourselves because you're too egotistical to accept a different opinion. Our goal is the same, so for now these are your comrades, and you'll treat them like you'd treat any cadet coming out of Peary."

You sound so official, and Aaron thinks that's partly due to the fact that you were one of the youngest in the room, which came with a certain level of scrutiny, which in turn meant you had no room to show any ounce of uncertainty. You couldn't give them any reason to believe they could undermine the authority you'd been granted. "We clear?" you ask, and you've regained some of that regality to your voice, and Aaron finds that leadership suits your character.

It's not until your team has offered their affirmatives and you've issued a handful of tasks that you finally turn back to the team. Your eyes sweep over the entirety of the line, deliberately passing over Aaron, and he wonders if that's deliberate. "Welcome to Langley." you start your introduction, "My supervisor said you guys would be here an hour ago." you admit, and you don't sound inherently snippy, but it's clear their perceived lack of punctuality was a bother.

"Our apologies, we came as soon as we were cleared." Jason is saying, and Aaron is certain all minds are running directly to Erin Strauss. She'd always had an affinity of making things way more difficult than they'd ever needed to be.

"That's alright, I'm just glad we've finally got your brains in the building." and you extend a hand, a polite (but still closed-off) smile residing on your face. "Jason Gideon, right?" you question, and he's accepting the gesture gingerly. "I'm Case Officer L/N, I'll be your point person while my supervisor is away." and you're looking at the clock again. "They should be landing within the hour, I'm sure he'll be looking forward to meeting you all." you proceed.

"This is Doctor Reid." and Gideon is addressing Spencer, who offers a small wave that you reciprocate. "This is our technical Analyst Garcia.." and he motions to her, the blonde beaming vibrantly at you. She's a walking ray of sunshine, a brightness that's needed in the profession. You offer your own sort of bright greeting, "And these are SSA's Greenaway, Morgan, Jareau..." and before Jason can move to introduce Aaron, you're offering the first real smile of the day.

"Hotchner." you complete Jason's greeting, smile deepening just slightly. "I'm actually quite familiar, we go way back." and Aaron feels every set of eyes to his left and right snapping right to him. He sees Derek's smug little smirk and JJ's perturbed eyebrow raise. He's not in the mood for questions though. "Follow me, we tore apart an office to make space for you guys." and you're walking, and the team is at a loss. Most of them seem to have no clue how to respond, but Derek does, he always does.

"We go way back?" he mimics cheekily and Aaron's eyes can't help but to roll. Elle and Jennifer are releasing similar snorts, clearly amused at the entire situation. Aaron doesn't know why they're so hellbent on trying to see something that wasn't there. It wasn't like you were some mysterious woman from his past. You were the kid sister of his childhood friend, basically a neighbor. Still, he couldn't deny that the feeling that stirred up alongside the familiarity was not lost on him.

"Let's just focus on the case." Gideon is muttering, and Aaron doesn't think he's ever appreciated the old man more.

It's barely a few moments before Aaron's being pulled from his head. The space that had been allotted to the team was nice enough, it would do for the time being. You watch them appraise the space, hands clasped in front of you like you were waiting for their reactions. "Thank you, it's perfect!" he breaches the first conversation between the both of you, and your eyes seem to light up, shoulders jumping at the not-quite praise. He notes then that you must not get a lot of 'good jobs' from your superiors.

"It's the least we could do, honestly." and you shrug slightly. "My boss won't like that I'm saying this, but we're really backed against a wall here." you lower your tone a bit. "If your team wasn't available, we'd be in a bind." you admit, and Aaron is familiar with the sentiment. His team did a lot of good work. "But, if I'm honest, I am kind of surprised to see you in the midst of the fray." you pivot, showing off all your pretty teeth as Aaron's lips quirk involuntarily.

You'd always been a vibrant person, the kind that could pull the sun out from behind storm clouds. That was something no amount of time could help him forget, and as you let your smile reach your eyes, the crinkle reminds him of a time before all the death, violence, and trauma he'd become accustomed to with the life he'd chosen for himself. "I'm hoping it's a bit of a happy surprise?" he says, because despite the circumstances, this was still you of all people.

"More than a bit." you reply instantly. "Honestly, the circumstances are God-awful, but it is nice to know that the 'little Aar Hotchner' that used to sit in our kitchen for breakfast, is the unit chief of an entire FBI unit." you say, and Aaron knows whether they want to be obvious or not, the team are eavesdropping, minds split between starting at their work, and hoping for a bit of insight into who their boss had once been. He'd deal with the fallout of that later.

"Little?" he says unconvinced, as you breathed out a small laugh.

"Okay, maybe not so little at all." you correct yourself teasingly. "I just- I can't believe that I'm actually seeing you again." and your head tips to the side like you're actually just coming to the realization.

"Yeah, you were a ghost for a bit there after your graduation." and it hits you like a ton of bricks. The last time you'd seen Aaron Hotchner it had been when he'd shown up to your high school graduation. Eighteen year old you, who'd been more than eager to leave Virginia behind and start your real life. That was almost ten full years ago.

"Yeah." you agree with a small nod. "Wow." and you exhale through your nose. "Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, I wish I could say I was surprised, but honestly you've always been the bossy type!" you tease before you can really stop yourself, and it catches you both off guard when Aaron actually laughs.

"I guess I could say the same thing about you. You know, I almost didn't recognize you coming in. Being in charge though... it suits you." and this causes you to brim with nervousness, a nervousness you hadn't felt since you were a kid. You knew you were good at your job, you'd fought hard to get it, and you would do anything to maintain it, but it didn't come with a lot of friends, or congratulations, or even just a small bit of encouragement. It was a thankless role.

Somehow Aaron saying something so minute was enough to set all your doubts and second guesses about yourself at ease. Something that he seemed to have never grown out of practice with.

"Thanks, Aar." you say quietly, and you look like you want to say more, but then your phone is buzzing in your pocket, and you're pulled back into a different headspace. The kind that had no time for laughter, for catching up, or anything outside of business. You check your phone, head pivoting to look at that big clock on the wall, and you sigh.

"Everything okay?"

"My boss is running late, won't be back until tomorrow. Which means this is now officially my case." you express, and Aaron understands your plight. The sudden pressure, the way you must have been nervous.

"That's what we're here for." he reminds you politely, treading lightly. "So you won't have to do this one by yourself." Aaron continues, as you blink away your awe. "And like I said, leadership suits you, you'll probably have the whole office in shape in no time." he offers you more encouragement, and you wonder how it could be possible to leave someone behind, and come back to them holding the same amount of space in your heart.

"Thank you." you let out a tired exhale. "I should go. I was expecting him to handle a few things, but now that it's on me... I have a lot more work to do." and you open and close your hand, flexing your fingers as you shuffle awkwardly. "I'm sorry-" you begin, and Aaron is waving you off, face pinching up in a way that was not quite like him.

"Don't. It'll give us time to think." and he's speaking for the team, who he knows don't need much to find a breakthrough.

"Right. It was-" and you look like you're not sure if you want to continue. "It was really good to see you again, Hotchner." and you stumble a bit as you take a small step towards him. "Just-" and you blink a few times. "Let me know if you need anything." you express, "Anything at all." and the emphasis isn't too lost on him as you beam up at him like you were remembering every last thing you ever recalled about him.

It takes you a second to note that the rest of the team is zoned in on the both of you, and you're immediately making your smile drop, taking a step back. "Uh-" you extend a hand, motioning to the entire group. "All of you." you offer, "If any of you need anything, my office is just up there!" and you point across hq to a large office surrounded with glass doors looking out into the bullpen. "Thank you again for your help." and you're looking at Hotch again, an almost sorrowful look on your face as you offer a smile before you take your leave.

Aaron finds it impossible to pull his eyes away from you, because you were so completely different from who he remembered. But some parts were still the same. He blinks away these thoughts, mostly because the loudest thought in his mind is of Haley and the baby they were expecting. But what were the odds that you of all people would be here. He catches the intense stare of Gideon, and both his eyebrows jump. Jason had a way of reading people like no one else.

He doesn't want to know what he found as he examined Hotch. So instead, Aaron beelines towards Morgan and Reid, hoping to hover long enough to get his head back in the game. If they notice the way his eyes would scan the office every so often, if only to catch a glimpse of you, they say nothing.

So he doesn't say anything either.

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ckret2 · 8 months ago

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The second dimension has burned, all its neighbors are burning, Bill's mutated Dimension Zero into some sort of non-euclidean horror land where he's setting up a ghoulish undead kingdom and pretending that he's fine, and every five minutes the Axolotl sees something new he's gonna have nightmares about for the next billion years.

Naturally, the gods of the multiverse have got to do something:

Make sure the non-euclidean horror land complies with local construction codes.

Here, have a fic.

This is part 4 of a series about the Axolotl—and various local gods—trying to figure out how to deal with the aftermath of what will one day be called the Euclidean Massacre. Here are parts one, two, and three.

####

As the Time Giant inspected Dimension Zero, she took a dizzying array of measurements and performed several tests on the unstable cosmic foam that seemingly made up the dimension. To the Axolotl's untrained eye, the tests looked more like alchemy than engineering. She even momentarily popped out to a point in her timeline when she was in her office to pick up some more specialized equipment.

Dimension Zero operated like an omnidirectional treadmill, the Axolotl discovered; if you flew far enough to the left, you ended up looping around to the right, far enough up and you ended up down, far enough forward and you ended up in the back. The distances were vast, certainly, but finite. Which meant that finding the "edge" of Dimension Zero to escape it was near impossible—it had no edges. The Axolotl was amazed at his luck in having successfully found an exit the last time he was in here. Locating the border of this impossible dimension was like navigating a four-dimensional labyrinth.

But apparently the Time Giant was very good at navigating labyrinths, because again and again she effortlessly located Dimension Zero's border. It was like a thin layer of incorporeal cellophane you could move straight through without leaving Dimension Zero; but if you looked at it just right, from just the right time and place, it became real, and you saw through it into the neighboring dimensions. She spent a long time grimly examining the burning first and second dimensions "above" Dimension Zero—and a long time inspecting the places where the neighboring dimensions had already been incinerated completely, and Dimension Zero bloated out toward the third dimensions like an overfilled trash bag.

And meanwhile, the "Magister Mentium," de facto ruler of this grotesque domain, decided that while he was waiting for news, the most magisterial thing he could do was returned to his party.

To the Axolotl's amazement, the triangle did actually seem to be dancing with his people. There was still some intelligence in some of the living and the dying-but-never-dead shapes.

Some of them knew a dance that involve interlacing their fingers, right hands to right hands, and whirling together around their joined grip, then switching to lace their left hands together and twirl the other way; and the triangle couldn't be puppeting them—not all of them, not all the time—because sometimes his dance partners were the ones who got the steps right while he fumbled the timing. The Axolotl watched as he missed grabbing a line's hand because he'd somehow gotten slightly skewed into the third dimension and his hand went over hers instead; she teasingly jabbed him in the side with her point, and in retaliation he knocked into her with one of his lower corners and snapped her in half; with a wave of his hand she was repaired and bewildered. In his shock, the Axolotl hadn't seen it the last time he'd been here—but the triangle's eternal dance party was both the horror of a root system digging deep into rotting flesh, and the hope of a flower blooming from an unmarked grave. How many of the dancers were voluntarily dancing forever?

He didn't have an opportunity to find out. When the Time Giant had finished her inspection, she waved over the triangle again. (Not that she needed to; in spite of being back at the party, he'd also somehow remained at the Time Giant's elbow the whole time, watching what she did without blinking.) "All right, I've got the verdict on your dimension. Do you wanna start with the bad news, the worse news, or the ugly news?"

"Ease me into it," the triangle said. "So what's the matter with my dream realm?"

"The matter."

"That's what I'm asking."

"The matter's what's the matter with it."

"What?"

"Every reading I've taken indicates there's a dimension's worth of matter in here. The mass is here for it, all right. I'm picking it up no problem. I just can't find your matter." She gestured out at the infinite dance party, the swirling colors, the twinkling faraway lights, "Everything visible adds up to so little matter that I didn't even bring any tools sensitive enough to register it. It doesn't account for all the mass I'm measuring."

He surveyed the view warily. "So you're saying my place's mass is... what, invisible?"

"Invisible, stuck in pocket dimensions... Y'all said any rubble left over from Dimension 2 Delta would've fallen in here, right? You got it hidden away somewhere?"

His eye lit up. "Oh! Are you looking for this?" He pulled a tall black hat out from seemingly nowhere and reached his arm all the way down into it to pull out a speck of dust: radiating blinding light in every direction, but so dark that staring into it made the Axolotl feel like his eyes were being sucked out of his skull into a black hole. "This is 2Δ's matter."

"Is that all that's left?"

"The whole shebang!"

"Then nah, that's not it. If that had all the matter of a dimension, and it was that small. it'd be the nuke of nukes. The seed of a Big Bang. All it'd take is a dimension's worth of energy to thaw that turkey, and pfft! You've got a baby dimension on your hands." She gestured dismissively at the speck, "No way a mortal could handle an object like that without its gravity crushing you—never mind have the energy to move it."

The triangle stared down at his little pearl of matter. "Huh." It was an oddly intense stare for just a fleck of dust.

"If you don't know where all the hidden matter is, then ten to one odds, you've got a dark matter problem," the Time Giant said. "Nasty stuff. It'll exponentially speed up the heat death of your dimension. You'll have to get a specialist in here to see if there's anything you can do about that dark matter. You want referrals?"

He was silent for a moment, still not looking up; then he said, "No, no—I don't need them." He stuffed the speck back into his hat, tossed aside the party hat he'd been wearing, and put on the black one. "I'm a DIY kind of triangle! I'll figure out what dark matter is."

The Time Giant snorted. "Suit yourself. Problem two: this dimension's a singularity. A really big, spread out singularity, which by the definition of a singularity is impossible—"

"We like impossible around here!"

"Uh huh, I can tell. But it means things that should be separate things are crushed together into one thing—including the landscape and the mindscape. Dreams and reality are occurring on the same level of existence. There's no clear distinction between facts and fiction."

"Okay," he said. "So, is that a problem, or...?"

"For starters," she jerked a thumb toward the distant-and-yet-somehow-ever-present dance party, "it means that the dead and the living are on the same plane. Can't separate life from an afterlife here. And it means anything could happen just by imagining it too hard. Some traumatized vet gets war flashbacks? The war's actually happening again. Have a nightmare about your wife dying? Your wife's dead. If everyone stops thinking about a building for a moment, it could stop existing. Contracts are useless—what you think you remembered them saying becomes what they actually said."

"So, is that a problem, orrr...?"

She paused. "Shoot, it's your universe. If you're fine with it, whatever."

"I call it the dream realm for a reason!"

"Issue three's the ugly one: this dimension's completely unstable," the Time Giant said.

"Yeah, I know," the triangle sighed. "The electromagnetism..."

"The electromagnetism ain't the half of it. I mean it is really unstable. I don't know how it's lasted as long as it has. I can see half a dozen ways the dimension could completely collapse on itself in the next ten minutes."

"What! Where?!"

She pointed. "For one thing, a whole pillar of spacetime right there is about to implode and form a wormhole."

He zoomed over to the pillar, multiplying into a dozen copies to examine it from every angle. (He looked the same small size as always, but the Axolotl realized that with the distance the pillar was at, he must be lightyears across to be visible from here—either that, or somehow he hadn't gotten any further away. The triangle shouldn't even visible when the light from his position shouldn't reach them for thousands of years. A realm that operated on dream logic.)

While he inspected the unstable structure, the Time Giant said, "Nothing about the structure of this place is self-sustaining. It should've collapsed back into a singularity as soon as 2Δ fell in. I got no idea how it just keeps propping itself back up..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it," the triangle snapped.

The Time Giant paused. "What?"

"I'm working on it! I'd be working on it right now if you hadn't dragged me away from the party!" The nearest iteration of the triangle groaned, dragging his eyelid down with his hands. "I've been spending ages trying to keep this stupid leaky balloon inflated, and now look at this!" He gestured in exasperation at the pillar preparing to wormhole itself. "I have to start again! Do you know how many times I've tried to fold the... the dumb... the plane?" He tried to pantomime the act of folding something with his hands; as he did, apparently without noticing what he was doing, he folded himself up, like a triangular origami paper. "Fold it in a way that'll get it to stay put? And it just won't! It keeps flopping over! It's driving me nuts!"

"The 'plane'?"

He unfolded himself with a sharp snap. "You know what I'm talking about! The plane! The plane that everything's made out of! The..." Frustrated, the triangle grabbed a wad of existence itself and shook it in the Time Giant's and Axolotl's faces. "This stuff!"

"The fabric of reality?" the Time Giant asked, flummoxed. "You can detect the fabric of reality? You can interactwith it?"

"Is that what it is?" He flung it down in disgust. "Well, it won't stay put when I fold it!"

"Yeah, fabric tends not to do that."

"Right. Right." Grimly, the triangle said, "I need the starch of reality."

"Don't starch reality."

He flung up his hands in defeat. "Well, I've tried everything else!"

Softly, the Time Giant said, "Huh." As if she'd just figured out the answer to a question she hadn't even had a chance to ask.

On the other hand, the Axolotl just had more questions. He may not know very much about the fabric of reality, but... well, that was just the thing. He didn't know much about the fabric of reality. Sure, if he ran into a fraying timeline he could tie up the loose ends and snip off the damaged threads; he could summon up his pocket afterlife at any time, opening a liminal space into his tank from anywhere in the multiverse; but that was the most complex thing he could manage by himself. He certainly didn't know enough to do anything as complicated as keep an unstable dimension from imploding on itself.

But he did know that he didn't know nearly enough for it to be safe for him to even try... and he at least knew what the fabric of reality was. For someone even more ignorant than him to try it...

The Time Giant asked, "Didn'cha... say you're a mortal?"

"Yeah?" the triangle said defensively. He didn't even waste time looking at them; his full focus was back on the pillar, which was beginning to twist around itself. "Last I checked? And?"

She held up her hands. "S'fine. Nothing wrong with that."

Just before the pillar could fully transform into a wormhole, the triangle muttered irritably to himself and snapped his fingers. The pillar inverted like a flower bud turning inside-out. There was an infinitely vast creaking groan—but nevertheless, this immediately solved the pending wormhole issue. And also promptly caused four more things to go catastrophically wrong.

The triangle let out a strangled scream of frustration as half the firmament inverted colors and the stars glowed black. "No no no no no—!" He skidded across existence to the reversed sky, a thousand hands trying to twist the stars back on before the damage spread; another copy of him was knitting closed a rapidly unraveling corner of reality with his own arms as the thread; and the Axolotl wasn't sure what the other dozen shining yellow triangles he saw whizzing by were doing, but a ringing sound he hadn't previously noticed suddenly stopped.

Throughout Dimension Zero, there was a grinding, rumbling noise that filled all of existence. The Axolotl and Time Giant both flinched at a couple of great, splintering cracking noises, so deep that they were felt rather than heard. From every direction, the Axolotl could see soot and souls rain into the dimension. The Time Giant watched the grisly rain, jaw slack in amazement.

The Axolotl saw black hands catch the souls as they fell.

In a moment the triangle was back, looking a little worse for the wear: twitchy, dazed, eye dilated too wide, clearly even more distracted than he'd been a minute ago. He didn't look exhausted, per se—the Axolotl thought he should look exhausted—but it uncomfortably dawned on him that, if the triangle was powerful enough to knit the fabric of reality back together despite not even knowing what the fabric of reality was... maybe he was too powerful to get exhausted.

Where had a mortal gotten that power?

The triangle let out a heavy sigh. "Okay—"

And then a nearby star immediately collapsed into a black hole and started slurping down the raw fabric of reality rather than any of the regular matter hovering just outside its event horizon.

He froze a moment, eye squeezed shut in an expression of pure agony; and then he was zipping across the dimension again to fix one more crisis.

All this time, the Axolotl had thought the triangle was inebriated. He wasn't inebriated at all. It was pain. He had to be near delirious with pain, struggling to control everything without a moment's rest. Weaving back and forth and popping here and there across the dimension as he tweaked and fixed small crises before they became large ones, trying to convince himself that he was at a party as he danced frenziedly with his ever-dying people even as he simultaneously knit and taped and stapled existence back together with his own body. Every time they'd spoken to him, he'd been distracted. They were distracting him from keeping his entire reality from falling apart.

The Time Giant watched him zoom around with her thumbs hooked in her belt and a grin across her face. "Man. I wanna set you loose in an infinite hardware store and see what you do with it."

The triangle gave her an unamused, dead-eyed look. (And somewhere else, he was also picking up the black hole, eyeing it tiredly, and finally just punting it in a random direction. Existence rumbled again.) "Hey, if you know a hardware store that's got whatever it'll take to keep this place from falling to pieces, and you think you can babysit the dream realm until I'm back...

Her smile faded. "Don't think that's gonna work."

He was immediately on his guard. "Oh?"

"That's what I was trying to explain: it's not just your dimension that's unstable; it's destabilizing all the dimensions around it, too."

He flung up his hands exasperatedly. Pale blue flames ignited around his hands. "Yeah, I know!" He hastily shook out the flames on his fingers as he said, "Tell the neighbors to keep their stupid pants on, I'm working on getting this place stable—" (The Axolotl stared at his hands long after the flames were gone.)

"No, you don't get it," she said. "Trying to stabilize it is what's destabilizing the other dimensions."

He paused. "What are you talking about."

"This 'dream realm' is supposed to be a singularity in an empty void at the bottom of everything. The dimensions above are designed to support the higher dimensions weighing down on them without collapsing. They're not structured to take pressure pushing up on them from below." The Time Giant gestured around at Dimension Zero, "And that's what we've got now! Your renovations have filled up the void. That's where that grinding when you 'move' is coming from: every time you try to prop up this dimension, it crashes against all the neighbors—and they push back and destabilize you again. Just based on what little I saw when I was checking the place out, the other second dimensions must be taking heavy damage. We're talking planes fracturing apart, physics destabilizing, wormholes, temperature fluctuations from absolute zero to near Big Bang-level heat—"

"And fires," the Axolotl said in realization, remembering the ashes he'd seen raining into Dimension Zero when the triangle had fixed the wormhole. "The dimensions that were around 2Δ are burning. Nobody could figure out why we couldn't get them under control. It was you."

All of Dimension Zero fell several degrees colder.

The music faltered. The distant dancers that could stop did, shaken out of their trances to look around for their magister. For a moment, the Axolotl could hear the dimension's hissing background radiation almost clearly enough to understand what it was saying—whispers, they were whispers, the Axolotl hadn't been imagining that they sounded like voices. They really were.

He thought he could hear screams in the whispers.

The triangle stared at them, eye wide and empty.

The Time Giant gave him a moment. "You good?"

"No, I— Yes, of course I'm good! I'm great!" He squeezed his eye shut and rubbed it harshly between his thumb and forefinger. He did not look great. "I'm not destroying any dimensions, that's insane! You're insane!" His voice was rising toward a shriek. "Nothing's on fire! I don't know what you're talking about! How would you know?! I heard you out there early, the rest of you are—what, what are you doing, arguing about whose district the ashes are in?! Trying to shift the blame to each other instead of doing anything? And meanwhile I've been here all this time! I'm the only one fixing anything! I'm the one who's been liberating my people from their stupid flat little dimensions before the apocalypse can reach them, so—what do you know about anything here!"

"'Liberating'?" the Time Giant said. "What in the multiverse are you talking about?" The Axolotl's stomach sank.

"You think I can't see out of this place?" He drew them closer and closer as Dimension Zero moved around them and grew larger and larger as he spoke, forcing them to look up at him. "You think I haven't noticed my people out there dying while you big shot so-called 'gods' stand around and watch?! I can see through all their eyes! I see everything! I feel it when they die! I've been the only one saving them!"

As clear as if it were real, the Axolotl saw his memory of Dimension 2 Epsilon burning. (The Time Giant sucked in a breath—the way the mindscape worked here, could she see his memory too? Could the triangle?) The shapes spontaneously combusting and plummeting into Dimension Zero. Reality seeming to twist around them, grasp them, crush them. He saw a frightened green triangle—except for the color, a triangle so like the Magister Mentium as he'd been on the day he met the "eclipse," young and small and terrified of the cosmic forces around him—crushed and burned in the folds of the fabric of reality. Only the shapes were taken—none of the creatures around them. The triangle's people. "You're not saving anyone! You're the one killing them!"

The triangle blazed red in rage.

Everything ignited. Searing, white-hot pain. The fire was on the Axolotl's skin, in his eyes, in his gills, inside his body. He felt the voices in the cosmic radiation screaming.

Everything unignited. The Axolotl was unharmed. (Was it a hallucination? A dream? Had it been too brief to leave damage?)

The Time Giant was holding the Axolotl in front of her chest like a big plushie shield.

The triangle was small and black and still. White light traced his edges like the halo around a black hole. He didn't say anything.

He was staring at the Axolotl's memory. And the Axolotl could see the triangle's memory: from above, the plane of Dimension 2 Epsilon melted and folded around a small frightened green triangle, crushing and burning it within the fabric of reality; from below the plane, a trembling black hand reached up, stretching into the fabric of 2Ε like it was a glove, trying so hard, so carefully to catch and cradle the other triangle before it fell, confused when the fingers opened and once again all that was left in the palm was ashes.

Both memories burned up and vanished.

The Axolotl shook himself free of the Time Giant's grip and cautiously swam closer to the triangle. "Magister...?"

The universe quietly moved, carrying the Axolotl and the Time Giant away and rotating around the triangle so they were placed behind him. Okay, fine. He'd wait.

When the triangle finally spoke again, his voice was hoarse and flat. "I can't just stop fixing the dream realm. It'll collapse on us." He turned slowly to face the Time Giant. His color was starting to come back. "You've got some kind of... divine home renovation crew that can repair everything?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. I still had some hope for this place when I thought it was banging against the neighbors when it was collapsing. But if fixing it is what's breaking everything... There's nothing we can do."

"Some god," the triangle muttered ruefully. "So... what are we supposed to do."

"Honestly? This void was never built to support a dimension. Best idea is to leave and set up your dancing hippie colony somewhere else," the Time Giant said. "The third dimension next to where 2Δ used to be is swarming with refugee services; if I were you, I'd talk to the guy with the planets to set you up somewhere until you can move into another dimension."

That snapped him out of his funk. "Are you kidding? I'd rather keep fixing this place for an eternity! We sacrificed everything to reach our paradise. We're not about to ditch it now!"

The Time Giant took in the wretched floating dance party huddled together in a lonely, landless, kaleidoscopic void, and silently mouthed, paradise. She shook her head and moved on. "Well, you can't keep this place even if you wanna. It's impossible to get this place up to cosmic construction code."

"Who cares about the code!" He zipped up to her face, hands outstretched to her beseechingly. "Can't you let it slide? I am willing to bribe you. Just tell me what it'll take!"

"Buddy." Her voice took on a steely edge. "The cosmic construction code defines how every dimension in the multiverse has to be built. It exists because any dimension that doesn't meet the code could destroy all of existence." (His eye widened.) "Your 'paradise' doesn't fit in the crawlspace beneath dimensions. One of two things will happen: eventually, you fail to stabilize it, it collapses in on itself, and everyone in here ceases to exist... or, you do stabilize it, and it destabilizes every dimension built above it, and the entire multiverse collapses in on itself—including your 'dream realm.' You like either of those options?"

The triangle's hands drooped helplessly. "I... But th... After all w... I can't..."

He fell silent. His light sank back toward black.

This triangle had made himself the leader of these people, he couldn't abandon them now. The Axolotl wasn't about to watch him lose himself in despair.

"Would you let your people die like that?" He circled behind the triangle, forcing him to turn to face the Axolotl—and face his people at the same time. "You said you liberated them." As misguided as he had been—and even if few of them, maybe none of them, were actually his people—it had to be an act of love, didn't it? He had to care about them, didn't he? "After everything you did to save them, do you want to lose them now?"

The triangle glanced at the shapes, and quickly looked away. "I..."

"Look at them," the Axolotl commanded.

He looked at them.

Slowly, he floated over his eternal dance party. To the Axolotl's surprise, several of the clear-headed ones who had stopped dancing—the haggard, the ever-bleeding, the newer arrivals that were ever-burning—stretched their hands up toward him.

The triangle flinched, ever so slightly—just a twitch in his hands—and then he reached down to them in return. The line that the Axolotl had seen dancing with the triangle earlier brushed his fingertips; he stopped to squeeze her hand as he passed.

The Axolotl could see the guilt radiating out of the triangle.

He didn't know how he knew it was guilt. He didn't even know how he could see it—it had no color, no shape. Nevertheless, he saw it. The guilt spread out like ink in water, poisoning Dimension Zero, clinging to every surface. The Axolotl's skin was unusually sensitive to toxins; the guilt made him queasy.

One of the shapes asked the triangle something; the Axolotl couldn't hear the question, just the triangle's quiet answer: "Nah, don't worry about those losers. A few higher-dimensional beings got mad we liberated ourselves. They hate to see the second dimension winning. It's fine, I can kick their bases if they try to make any trouble."

(The Time Giant snorted. The Axolotl wasn't sure it was an empty threat.)

"Now why isn't everyone dancing! C'mon, chop chop, this is a celebration! I wanna see everyone shaking their sides! Talking to you, Graham!" The triangle raised a hand, threateningly preparing to snap his fingers; before he had to, all the shapes were dancing again, as enthusiastically/fearfully as ever.

He watched his people for a moment longer.

And then turned to the Time Giant and the Axolotl. "Okay," he said. "I'll talk to the guy with the planets."

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 4 of a 7-or-8 part fic that keeps getting more parts, about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl slowly discover just how much of a monster that silly triangle he likes really is.

It's ALSO chapter 64 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: the great thing about this plot is that almost every chapter has a new terrible reveal about what Bill's up to! Looking forward to hearing y'all's thoughts on this latest bunch of revelations. Depending on how I split things up, next week might be another more low-key chapter to set up further horrors.

Nobody asked but the line Bill was dancing with is named Lynn Segment, and the Graham he spoke to is a quadrilateral with two older siblings: Perry, Lilo, & Graham. What's the point of making geometric shape characters if you aren't giving them pun names.)

#gravity falls axolotl #bill cipher #euclydia #(or what's left of it)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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ghost-is-gone-18 · 4 months ago

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there’s something about stephanie brown being exceptionally smart that’s so compelling to me. it’s an aspect of her character i really wish the comics spent more time exploring. she was raised by a genius after all. she spent most of her developmental years exercising her problem solving and critical thinking skills. during the early days of her vigilanteism she made all her own equipment out of scraps. she’s definitely an intellectual equal to bruce and tim. hell, she’s probably just as smart as barbara too. she just hasn’t been given the same resources or opportunities as them.

this isn’t just bullshit i’m pulling out of my ass either. it’s shown in the comics. we see her track down the same case as batman and robin and do just as well as a detective. when she went rogue and started to work against batman she was always two steps ahead of him. her problem solving even shows through in the way she uses her environment to give herself advantages in fights.

steph is so smart and given the resources she can be really formidable and yet she’s always underestimated both in the comics and outside of them. i just want to see her break just once and show the rest of the batfam just how skilled and intelligent she can be. i want to see her absolutely outpace bruce on a case, or solve something tim has been struggling with for hours in mere minutes. i want to see her be the detective of the steph and cass duo. i want to see bruce or babs or hell even tim or cass realize just how much they’re underestimating her.

i’m imagining some sort of situation where she’s forced to work on her own with limited resources, maybe a hostage situation with the riddler. the building is on lockdown and steph is the only one in the building. all she has is her backup stash of batgirl stuff. coms are being blocked so she can’t get word out to anyone. the whole batfam is on the outside preparing to go in, super worried about how steph is holding up when suddenly the doors open and all the hostages flood out followed by steph holding a hog tied riddler. turns out she was able to strategically take out each unit of riddler’s crew without him realizing his goons were under attack, solve the puzzle he’d set up, and completely diffuse the situation. “what, like it’s hard?” everyone else is shocked. they’ve always been so blinded by steph’s jokey personality and lack of formal training that they never realized how competent she was. everyone gains a new level of respect for her.

i’m begging for someone to write a fic like this. i need more badass steph centric fics.

#dc prompt #stephanie brown #batfam #batgirl #spoiler dc

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sans-enjoyer · 10 months ago

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Inanimate Insanity Episode 16 Spoilers!!!!

its been like, two days since episode 16, and people are already arguing about Mephone's age. He is a child, and this didnt come out of nowhere guys, he's always BEEN a child:

^post from 2018!! 5 YEARS ago!

^Brian reposting art (amazing art btw<3) where Mephone is described as a CHILD and drawing in a childish way.

^Brian saying that Mephone is so young he doesn't even know how to SPELL.

Now; heres some stuff ive been hearing in argument against him being a child.

"Cobs is infantilizing him." I agree with this to a certain extent, he is acting like Mephone is a child who cant comprehend anything like an abusive parent. but thats where it stops. Children can ALSO be infantlized! But aside from that, Cobs even says; "I forgot how young you are!" Parents don't say that to their adult children, because it makes no sense unless Mephone is a child.

Secondly, why would Brian and Justin be doing the same thing? They say he's young!

"He has an adult voice." Robots don't hit puberty! This means nothing. Unless youre saying that the creators implied hes an adult because hes voiced by an adult, well i'll have to refer you to the images above.

"He hosts an entire show." Arguably not very well, also again, he's a robot, and also, theyre on an island! its not like you need a permit to film on a random island in god knows where. Any child can "host" a show if they have enough determination, general knowledge of how they work, and equipment, and would you know it Mephone has all three! He knows how they work because he watched them in meeple, and he can generate any equipment he needs.

"He's a robot, he doesn't have an age." True..? sort of...? But the thing is, being legally defined as a child is based off your mental capacity. Children arent as mentally/emotionally intelligent as grown adults, because they don't have the life experience nor the capacity to be. Mephone barely has ANY life experience, he grew up in Meeple, and then started the show immediately after leaving. And obviously, in Inanimate Insanity (and all object shows), robots are almost always sentient beings, unlike real life.

"He's much more mature than a child, especially one that couldn't spell." Debatable! First of all, he thinks things like 'going to jail for one day' and 'the calm down corner' are terrible punishments, like children. If you tell a child to go sit on the stairs for 5 minutes and frame it as a punishment, they will take it as serious as anything else. Secondly, he literally decided to make a random species of bat.. things? fight to the death because they ate his four month old ice cream. No mature person would do that... Thirdly, abused children ACT more mature than others because they HAVE to be. Abused children are not ALLOWED to act like children. They have to be mature for themselves because who else is going to be? Who else is going to take care of you when your parent doesn't? But that doesn't mean they arent still a child.

So now we tread into questionable territory. Is it okay to deny the idea that he is a child at all costs, just so you can ship him or sexualize him? There is really no other reason why you would deny that he is a child.

Now obviously; lets not harass anyone who has drawn ship art of him or sexualized him in the past. This stuff was not commonly known, most people thought he was an adult. But if you look deeper, he isn't.

Thanks for coming to my ted talk, if anyone reads this far (￣^￣)ゞI know I usually only post art, but this is an important topic to me as i am very hyperfixated on Mephone4 i swear i can't control it guys!!

Feel free to make any counter points, im open to discussion, but i am also very set on this opinion. Have a good day everyone!!☆

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medium-bloodcrafter-scion · 3 months ago

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Oathbound: Bree’s Character Development

Just posting some of the thoughts that have been bouncing around in my head because I need to get them out.

My controversial take is that Bree losing her knowledge/memories was necessary for her character growth in Oathbound.

I don’t agree with the mechanism by which she lost her memories (soul theft), but when I recall how much anguish and guilt she felt at the end of Bloodmarked (and the anguish I felt along with her), it felt like like a healing detour.

Bree’s love for people and for her friends was always, always going to have her prioritising their safety above her own, and I think it’s important that a space was created in the story for her to “put on her own oxygen mask.”

She developed control over her power without risking anyone else’s life.

She’s no longer the girl who has to run and hide, whose friends risk their lives to protect her - now she’s the girl who straps a dagger to her thigh and traps a warlock in a magical dome all while looking drop dead gorgeous.

Romance

There’s a lovely post by Annotate with Sara that explains this and more really well, but I thought it poetic that Nick was the one to initiate Bree’s reintroduction to her old self, seeing as he accidentally/unintentionally introduced her to the society that would lead to the discovery of her true identity in the first place.

While I’ve always maintained (mostly in my head) that Nick and Bree’s intelligences cancel each other out and together they tend towards foolishness, I think that the warmth, support and safety he offered is precisely what she needed in what was a very delicate space, particularly when Erebus told her to expect the exact opposite from her friends.

Nick’s first instinct was not to judge, fear, reprimand or even reject Bree:

…Pull the most frightening question up from my depths to breathe it into existence, because Nick makes it safe to do so.

“Do you think I made a mistake?”

He holds my face in both his hands until my eyes open. “No.”

and:

Nick lets me think. Lets me become who I need to be in the circle of his arms.

••••••••••

Looking ahead

“We’ve only just gotten started, Briana Matthews. You still bear my mark. You are a king without a sword. A Pendragon, poisoned. Your own pain and blood await.”

I feel as though the end of Oathbound sort of left us in a similar place as Bloodmarked. This book isn’t a full stop and it’s not a comma, but it’s a necessary parentheses.

At the end, all of Bree’s memories come flooding back when she reclaims the missing piece of her soul.

We aren’t given time to see what this really means for Bree because Sel goes full chaos mode and we end up with That Revelation, but she is going to have to reckon with the emotional fallout of Bloodmarked and also with her decision to choose her soul over Alice’s life.

She’ll have to address the guilt she feels towards Sel after he sacrificed himself and the consequences thereof.

However, unlike at the end of Bloodmarked, Bree is now equipped with the knowledge that she is still loved by those she ‘left behind’ on her quest with the Shadow King. The knowledge that relationships are sometimes messy and hard but that - to quote her dad - “Loving folks is a practice, baby.”

And I think coming to that realisation was actually her true quest.

#legendborn #legendborn cycle #oathbound #bree matthews #selwyn kane #nick davis #bloodmarked

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cillianmesoftlyyy · 5 months ago

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Don't Ruin It | Agent Lenny Miller x fem!Reader

summary: Sexual tension comes to a head (literally) when a younger female agent (you) makes a move on her superior agent, Lenny Miller, after a successful undercover mission.

warnings: Infidelity, power-imbalance, hazy consent, praise and dubious humiliation, smut.

word count: 3,300k

ONE SHOT! Who would’ve guessed…

Taking What's Not Yours- TV Girl 🎶

That's so True- Gracie Abrams 🎵

You were partners. Partners. And he was married. Married. There were so many fucking ethical reasons why you shouldn’t but damn it all, you did.

“I need your wire,” Agent Lenny Miller said over his shoulder as he sorted the equipment back into their cases. Your heart was still racing from the conclusion of your mission, your body was thrumming with adrenaline. You turned to face the hotel mirror and unzipped the back of your dress. When he was done with his brief task, Miller turned and after a moment of hesitation, approached you slowly. He clenched his jaw as he brushed the zipper away so that he could reach the mic-pack secured to the band of your bra. His pale fingers lingered an extra moment longer on the bare skin above and below the clasp as he pulled the pack off. He blinked his heavy eyelashes slowly, wetting his lips as he followed the wire up your back to your ear. His finger trailed over your skin, pretending to hold to the wire as his eyes glanced up to meet yours in the mirror. You removed the mic from your ear and turned back slowly to hand it to him. Miller looked down at you, still holding the pack, his heart racing too but his eyes deadly calm, keeping a level head just like a good agent would. Staring for a moment at the mic-pack, Miller finally exhaled slowly and nodded, taking the mic pack and wire. He switched the device off and looked back down at you again, face-to-face.

You were a young agent, fresh out of training with an expertise in languages. Agent Lenny Miller was a senior agent, a typical dark, brooding type with attitude issues and a soft-spot for intelligent women. He was always arrogant, but it was because he was always right. God, it was so fucking infuriating. When he wasn’t smiling (which was most of the time), you could barely make out the beginnings of crows’ feet at each outside corner of his eyes. He was in his mid-forties, married with a son. He wasn’t technically your boss but that didn’t make it any more ethical. These were just the things you told yourself as he continued to look down at you with his pale blue eyes.

He was standing with his feet shoulder-length apart and his jaw still painfully clenched. You reached around to the back of your dress and unzipped it all the way, your chest rising and falling quickly. Miller inhaled deeply as he saw what you were doing. Your black dress slowly slipped down your body to pool at your feet. He let himself look down at your body, covered only by your underwear. He stepped closer, just half a step, his lips falling open as he looked down at your lips. You rose onto the balls of your feet, offering your mouth but he inhaled sharply again and ran his hand over his mouth.

Miller stepped back and turned. He walked to an armchair in the hotel room and sat down on the edge of the seat, his hands steepled.

“Len-” you started but he held up a hand to stop you.

“Shhh, don’t ruin it, don’t ruin it” he whispered gently and looked you over again from the chair across the room. You stood silently in your underwear for a moment until you felt brave enough to move your arms to undo your hair. Your hair fell around your shoulders and you ran your fingers through it, picking out the knots quickly. Once that was done, you looked back at the man and asked him point-blank.

“Is it your wife?”

“Don’t ask me about her, Y/N.” He responded calmly, his hand still resting against his lips as he stared at you. You raise your chin slightly and inch closer until you're right in front of him. He looks up at you in appreciative silence, like he’s at an art gallery or the symphony. He lets you step between his knees and run your hands down the back of his head starting from the crown. His eyes close slowly and he sighs as your hands stroke his dark hair.

“If only you knew…” you whispered as your other hand slid down his cheek. Agent Miller’s eyes opened and he smiled softly, leaning into your hand.

“Know what?”

“How much I want you,” you answered breathlessly, your heart fluttering beyond beating. Miller chuckled in discomfort and inner turmoil. He shook his head and leaned back in the chair, out of reach of your hand.

“You know as well as I do that we can’t do this, Y/L/N.”

“Don’t talk like that.” You responded cooly, taking a step back as he watched you, his eyes helplessly trailing over your body. Miller leaned his chin against his closed hand, wetting his lips again as you put more distance between you. You could make out the half-hard bulge in his trousers that he tried to ignore. You two stared at each other for a minute on end, neither speaking as your eyes spoke to your individual desires. Finally, Miller sighed and reached out his hand, palm up and beckoning.

“C’mere.”

His voice was gentle but sure, as if there were absolutely no hesitation behind his request. You waited another moment before finally stepping back between his legs. His arms opened, inviting you to sit on his lap. You sat on his upper thigh, within the cage of his arms. Miller used his other hand to pull your legs across his lap, so that you were sitting completely across his legs like a child. His open hand rubbed up and down your thigh furthest away from his chest, slipping all the way down to your calf. You looked down at him and exhaled shakily.

“I-” he started but you pressed a finger against his lips, shushing him gently but firmly.

“Don’t ruin it.”

He smirked softly behind your finger and looked at your lips as you moved your head close to his. You dropped your finger and held the curve of his jaw instead, brushing your lips against his. The short stubble on his jaw tickled your fingers as you pushed them down his throat. His hand moved to hook around your waist and his lips fell open, responding to your tease. You exhaled shakily again, this time against his lips before finally kissing him. The kiss was so soft that your lips barely touched, barely moved. He looked up into your face, exhaling tightly before pulling you closer once again. You kissed again and just as softly as before. When you pulled away, you stared at each other in tense silence, the world around you was shrill like a static that separated you two from the rest of the world.

“Do you want to stop?” You whispered, looking between his blue eyes and his button nose. He briefly pressed a finger against your lips, dismissing your question, before kissing you again. His kiss was harder, stronger, as if he’d finally made up his mind without saying so: he was going to fuck you because damn it, he wanted you so badly. His teeth caught your bottom lip and you moaned against him as your fingers found the buttons of his collared shirt. The process was slow but expertly coordinated as if you already knew each other’s bodies as well as your own. You unbuttoned his shirt, slowly revealing his undershirt once each button slipped out of its eyelet hold. He wore the same undershirts that your dad used to wear beneath his dress shirts, the ones he wore to work, the similarity brought a strange sense of comfort as your hands felt the fabric beneath your hands.

Miller pulled you to straddle his lap so that you were completely facing him on your knees. You rested your butt on his legs, waiting patiently until his shirt and undershirt were completely removed. He held his arms over his head so that you could pull the shirt away from his bare skin. Agent Lenny Miller was by no means a largely muscular man, he’d left his field days behind him, but he was still fit, still lean and handsome. His arms were still muscular and you could feel the tension of his muscles every time he moved them around you. You sat back, ending your kiss for a moment so that you could look down at his bare chest. His pectoral muscles were tight and defined, his stomach shallow and taught. There was a dusting of freckles across his pale chest and a thin line of dark hair beneath his bellybutton. You pressed your hand against his lower stomach and felt the muscle meet your hand as it tensed. He laid his hands on the chair’s armrests and watched you with a calm expression on his face.

You slipped off his lap and opened his legs so that you could kneel between them. He ran his hand over his lips as he watched you, his eyes glued to you. You placed your hands on his knees and rose for a moment longer so that you could run your tongue across his collarbones. You dragged your tongue up his sternum, up to his throat, and ended at his jaw with a gentle nip. He shook once beneath you and groaned softly, so quietly that you barely heard it. When you returned to the place between his knees, his lips fell open in a helpless way, as if he were stuck in a trance. When his pants were undone, you ran your hand over his now-very-hard-cock and looked up into his eyes.

“Go on then,” he whispered, smirking softly as if he were joking. You smiled and pulled down his boxers just enough to find his erection. When it sprang free, he groaned audibly and leaned his head back for a moment. You rolled your tongue around the head slowly, relishing the taste of his precum, showing you just how much he wanted you too. Your hand gripped his shaft and squeezed gently, making him jerk his hips. He cursed beneath his breath as you moved your mouth farther onto his cock. You sucked softly, just wanting to prep him, not to make him cum. His hands tightened on the armrests, his nails digging into the red leather upholstery. You took his cock as far as you could without gagging and rolled your tongue before bobbing up and down.

“Ah fuck, girl. Slow, slow” he praised gently and closed his eyes as you sucked. When you could hear the distinct sounds of masculine whimpers, you stopped and looked back up at him. Miller exhaled tightly and ran his hand over your hair, fixing how it fell at the side of your face. His hand dropped to your shoulder and played with the soft skin there before pulling one of your bra straps off of your shoulder. You waited as he did the same to the other strap. He sighed as you stood slowly and stepped backwards towards the hotel bed, never used. Miller removed the last of his clothes and followed you slowly, his hand reaching out for your body. You let him pull you closer and kissed him as he felt for the clasp of your bra. He undid it easily and pulled it off of your arms so that he could feel your breasts. He nearly growled as he squeezed your breasts, feeling the hard nipple between his fingers. Miller picked you up easily and laid you back on the bed. He took your knees and pulled them apart so that he could stand between them. Still kissing you, he fit his hands beneath the bands of your thongs on your hips. His hands rubbed back and forth on your love-handles, in no rush to take off your underwear.

“Turn over, agent Y/L/N,” he muttered against your lips.

You nodded slowly, your lips starting to feel swollen and hot. You flipped over onto your stomach and felt his hands cup your butt before pulling down your underwear. He pulled them down your knees, over your calves, and off your ankles.

“Look at you. Good girl…” he whispered and tossed the underwear to the side. You pushed your butt up, signaling your need for him. Miller chuckled briefly in understanding and spread your knees again with his hands. With one of his hands, he feels over your wet cunt and leans over you to nip your shoulder.

When you moan he nods, “I know, I know. Me too.”

His long, rough fingers teased you cruelly as you bit your lip to keep from whining.

“Miller…” you whispered after a while of waiting and teasing. The senior agent smiled and leaned closer to your ear.

“Patience, girl. It’s an agent’s best virtue.”

You rolled your eyes and started to respond snippily before you felt him press against you, groaning. He pumped into you, hitting your ass with each quick gentle stroke. His hand that wasn’t being used to support his body went to your chin and pulled your head to lie flat on the side.

“How does it feel?” He asked.

“Hhha,” you tried to speak in a small breathless voice. He moved his hand back to your hip so that he could thrust deeper.

“Mmm fuck, you’re tight,” he panted and moved faster, harder. You cried out in pleasure and arched your back as much as you can beneath his body. “Tell me when you’re close.”

He groaned in pleasure as he found a good rhythm, your cunt gripping his cock better than his wife ever could. You moaned loudly, nearing yelling as he held you down and subjected you to the brutal honestly of his fucking.

He leaned down over you to rub his lips against your smooth upper back. He kissed your shoulder blade and slowed his thrusts, savoring the intimacy of your bodies. He moved his hips forward in a slow and flexed manner, straddling the line between climax and continuity.

“Good girl. Good. fucking. girl.” He muttered, his lips still barely touching your back.

“Shit I’m close,” you whined, your thighs shaking out of your control. As soon as the words left your mouth, Miller pulled out and picked you up by your hips. Nearly cradling you in his arms, he swapped places with you and placed you on top of his freckled upper chest.

“Sit,” he instructed calmly, “I’ll finish you off,” he gripped your thighs, waiting for you to move onto his face. You were panting and red in the face and it took a moment for you to realize what he was asking. With another reassuring nod from him, you shifted your body up and slowly lowered yourself down onto his face. You were skeptical and awkward until you felt his tongue glide over the lips of your sex. His nose rubbed against your clit as he sucked and lapped at your cunt. Your mouth fell open and your thighs immediately reacted by quivering. You placed your hands over his, still on your thighs, and cried out.

“That’s it,” his voice was muffled but still clear as he felt your orgasm building again, “I won’t stop you this time.”

Your body tried to jerk away from his mouth as your climax came on fast and strong but Miller kept you close to his lips. His arms didn’t let you leave even as you writhed from pleasure. You panted loudly, whining, until you finally orgasmed. Miller felt you orgasm against his mouth and waited until you had ridden it out before letting you pull away. You moved back enough for him to sit up. You were both panting and high on pleasure which made it impossible to speak. Miller looked you up and down, his way of asking if you were ok. You nodded softly and he nodded in return.

“You didn’t finish,” you observed breathlessly, straddling his lap as he leaned against the headboard.

“No?” He raised a brow, pretending to be ignorant.

“No, you didn’t.”

“You’re observant, good for you agent Y/L/N,” he responded evenly, raising both of his brows so that his forehead creased into that judgmental look he did so well.

“Fuck you.”

“Already did. Try again,” he tilted his head to the side slightly and nearly smirked. His biceps curled as he ran his hands up and down your arms. When you cocked your eyebrow back, calling him out on his bullshit, he sighed and resigned.

“That was for you, not for me,” he explained calmly, his eyes meeting yours.

“Making me finish, you mean?” You asked slowly, your brows furrowed more.

“Yes,” he nodded slowly and pursed his lips, “that was for you. I wanted to make you come.”

“And now what?”

“What do you mean?” Miller asked, confused.

“What do we do now?”

“We put on our clothes and go back to doing our jobs,” he answered with a half-hearted shrug. You scowled and shook your head.

“No.”

“No?” He repeated.

“You want this too, as much as you try to deny it and shame me for it. I’m not just a pity-fuck. Look me in the fucking eyes and say that you didn’t want me,” your voice dropped and you grabbed his shoulders, your fingers digging into his muscles. He held your gaze calmly but his heart beat faster. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he considered his response. Deciding against words, Miller grabbed the back of your neck and forced you into a hard kiss. You were caught by surprise and moaned tightly as he pulled you close and found your tongue to suck on, delirious with passion. His hands wrapped around you and flipped you over where you were then lying on your back beneath him.

“Fine, how’s this? I’ll look you in the eyes while I fuck you,” he growled and helped himself inside you. Like this, you could see his bright blue eyes as he held himself up over your body. He was already grunting and panting as he started to move back and forth. Both of your mouths fell open and you cried out in more pain than pleasure at this overstimulation. One of his hands wrapped around your throat, his thumb playing with the ridges of flexed muscles as you panted beneath him. His eyes only left you once when he dropped his head to your breasts to take one of your nipples between his teeth. He didn’t press hard, just enough to make you whimper. He flicked his large tongue over your breast, teasing the nipple with quick aggressive flicks. Your back arched and he growled in pleasure against your chest as he allowed himself to feel his orgasm. He returned his head to its original position so that he could watch your facial expression as he came. His mouth was open, his lips wet and pink. His cheeks hollowed everytime he panted, hitting your hips hard with his at the same time. He said nothing as he came, just slowed his thrusts, focusing instead on going as deeply as he could. His eyes closed and he shuttered, cumming inside you.

When it was over, Miller remained fixed above you, his grip loosened around your neck. He traced his finger up and down your throat in a strange show of affection.

“Alright?” Miller asked in a deep, heavy voice. You nodded and ran your hand over his chest.

“You?”

“Alright.” He nodded once. You stared into each others’ eyes, panting and exchanging hot breath.

“Alright,” you whispered.

Another moment of silence passed.

“Alright,” he repeated, staring now at your lips. Slowly, Miller inched closer. Slowly, your lips touched once more.

Alright.

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sunseed-fandump · 1 year ago

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Every good circus needs a Big Top! And this here is the tent used by the Liar's Circus! But don't be fooled by its small size, the interior is guaranteed to blow any circus fan away! All forms of entertainment can be found within!

Nobody can put a price tag on FUN! So everything is free for the taking! Just step through the door!

Eat, drink, be merry! Let your emotions fly as high as the trapeze!

All that energy will soon be put to better use...

More information about the individual areas under the cut!

ARENA

This is the central area where most performances are given. From clowning around to acrobatic feats that boggle the mind, it's all done here! All paths around the circus lead back to this area, so it is also typically considered "the crossroads" of the circus.

The path to the Arena from the entrance runs through a gauntlet of concessions and gift stands. So many wonderful treats on display almost makes it feel like a dream.

Zoo

All manner of strange creatures are kept within the cages. Summoned from the great beyond lie beasts twisted by shadows and kissed by the forbidden reaches. Lions? Tigers? Bears? Those are nothing compared to what lurks behind the steel bars...

Games Square

Up for a challenge? The Games Square is the perfect place to show off one's skills. Tests of strength, dexterity, and intelligence can be found here. And don't worry about losing, everyone is sure to walk away with a wonderful prize! Just.. Be careful not to get lost in the hall of mirrors.

Playground

This area is for those who crave some good old-fashioned fun. The map really doesn't do it justice. A beautiful carousel spins all day long, filling the air with joyous music. Slides, swings, and various other pieces of equipment offer plenty of ways to play, play, play! So run around! Scream and shout! Let out all that pent-up energy!

Theater

Beautiful tear-jerking performances and awe-inspiring tales are spun on this stage. There's never a shortage of stories! All of them were written by the world's finest playwright, poet, director, actor, clown-- Huh? Who is he? Our beloved Ringmaster of course!

Staff Area

This is where Gingerbrave, Strawberry Cookie, and Wizard Cookie stay. Each performer gets their own tent, filled with all the basic comforts a hard-working cookie needs. Of course, they're tailored to the individual interests of each child as well. Wizard has a cozy little tower filled with books. Strawberry has all sorts of games to keep her occupied. As for Gingerbrave, he's got toys, crayons, and even a whole trampoline in there! The kids are certainly comfortable.

Ok, that's all cool but what's ACTUALLY going on in there?

The answer to that is simple, this plane exists to gather energy for Shadow Milk Cookie. Magic is tied to emotion. So the more excited the guests feel, the more life energy Shadow Milk collects from them. Everything here is perfectly harmless (to guests), as the point is to only illicit strong emotions of thrill, excitement, and joy.

Guests are free to come and go as they please, but when they do leave, everyone feels especially drained.

And if the circus faces a tough crowd? Well, fear is also a viably strong emotion to gather energy from.

The only Cookies in the tent who Shadow Milk Cookie does not collect energy from is the kids. As they need their strength to perform and complete whatever tasks are given to them.

Cookies who are labeled as "Intruders" will have a horde of phantoms, animals, and puppets come down on them from all sides, and that's not even counting how Shadow Milk can control everything and anything inside. So it's best not to pick a fight unless one is prepared...

#cookie run #cookie run kingdom #liar's circus #my art #shadow milk cookie #au #cookie run au

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vixensdungeon · 5 months ago

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Hello, my little woodland critters. Today just for fun I'm going to walk you through the process of generating a character for the original 1974 edition of Dungeons & Dragons. I'm just going to use Men & Magic for this one but might do another one later with the supplements!

First, we get some dice. Three six-sided ones to be exact. I'm actually going to grab some with pips rather than numbers because that feels more authentic. Then, we roll and record their sum, repeating five more times, generating six ability scores. Here we go!

Strength 9 Intelligence 17 Wisdom 12 Constitution 16 Dexterity 13 Charisma 13

Yippee! As a witch these make me very happy indeed.

Next, we'll pick a class to play. Based on the abilities I rolled I'm of course going to pick the magic-user (the witch class didn't exist yet, alas). And as a magic-user, I'm actually allowed to futz with the numbers a bit, removing two points from Wisdom to gain an extra point in Intelligence. This gives us our finalised array, and we can now know the effects of each ability on the character.

Strength 9: no effect Intelligence 18: +10% to earned experience, eight extra languages Wisdom 10: no effect Constitution 16: +1 to each hit die, 100% chance to survive certain spells Dexterity 13: +1 to missile fire Charisma 13: maximum of 5 hirelings with +1 loyalty

Okay, languages. The character speaks the common tongue of the continent she lives in, along with an alignment language. I'm going to pick Neutral as my alignment so that's the language I speak. I also speak eight creature languages, which I'm going to pick later.

For equipment, we're going to grab our trusty 3d6 again, roll them, and mulitply by ten to find out how many gold pieces we have. I rolled 10, so I have 100 GP. I'm going to buy a dagger, the only weapon a magic-user is allowed. In addition I will buy 50' of rope, a large sack (for treasure), a leather back pack, a water skin, six torches, a flask of oil, a small silver mirror, a bunch of wolvesbane (in case of werewolves), a bunch of belladonna, and a bug of garlic (in case of vampires, or pizza). Not sure what the belladonna is useful for but you can never be too sure. This leaves me with 48 gold pieces that I will use to buy rations when I'm heading on an expedition of some sort. To calculate my encumbrance, I add my dagger's weight in gold pieces (20) to that of my miscaellanoues equipment (always 80, though a referee is allowed to make sure this stays within reason), for 100 GP of weight. I'm well within the limit for light foot movement, which will likely mean I'll have the responsibility of hauling loot out of the dungeon. Maybe I should invest in a second sack…

As a magic-user of the 1st level, I am titled a Medium, and will require 2,500 experience points to reach 2nd level (Seer). I roll 1 die (six-sided), adding +1 for my Constitution getting a total of 2… Tha'ts how many hits my magic-user can take before death. Let's hope she rolls better on the next level, assuming she survives. She fights with the strength of one man!

I can memorise one 1st level spell for my journey. Not knowing what I might face in the dungeon, I pick something witchy that I think can really save the group's butts: Sleep. All level 1 spells are in my spellbook so I don't need to worry about which ones I can memorise.

And that's pretty much it! Now we just give the character an imaginative name… How about Naiviv?

Onwards to adventure and glory, Naiviv the Medium!

#dnd

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gosunm · 1 month ago

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Linear cross belt sorter manufactured for small and medium outlets

Parcels Sorting system is a conveying device frequently used in modern logistics warehousing. Items are placed on the sorting machine, which can drive the items to move longitudinally along the rack and move transversely, thereby driving the items to move in two-axis planes, which is suitable for the transportation and sorting of parcels.

The linear cross belt sorter is a sorting device with a linear layout. Known as the "magic tool for sorting small and medium-sized outlets", the linear sorter is an intelligent device that is driven by the electric roller of a linear motor to sort with "intelligent trolleys arranged at intervals".

Application scenarios

Cargo/parcel sorting and transportation for the express and logistics industries

Solve the problem of port delivery at the end of the express logistics industry, sorting before delivery

Small footprint, high sorting efficiency, new general-purpose automated sorting equipment

Good feasibility of personalized customization

The linear narrow-band cross-belt sorter is a closed-loop system consisting of a main machine composed of continuous trolleys, tracks, induction platforms, leaky cables, communication systems, power supply systems, sorting crossings, barcode scanners and other equipment. The serial trolleys are driven by motors and run in a one-way cycle along the tracks in the vertical direction. The goods are automatically and smoothly introduced into the sorting machine trolley through the induction platform. After the barcode is read by the scanner and the database address is queried, the goods are smoothly unloaded to the designated sorting crossing through the action of the trolley belt.

Features

Small footprint: With a straight-line shape, the minimum footprint is only about 300 square meters, which can save site area and rent to a great extent; suitable for small and medium-sized enterprises and outlets.

Fast sorting speed: the line speed is ≤2.5m/s, achieving a maximum sorting efficiency of about 10,800 pieces/hour;

Simple loading operation: It can be manually operated, or directly connected to the telescopic machine and belt section to realize automatic loading, automatic sawing and automatic grid dropping, reducing manpower input;

High sorting accuracy: the top scanning barcode recognition rate reaches 99%, automatic recognition, automatic grid dropping, high accuracy, avoiding manual operation fatigue, error-induced misclassification fines;

Strong customization flexibility: It can be customized according to the needs of different sites, the trolley track is modularly assembled, the number of grids can be flexibly assembled, and it supports port entry/exit operations, Adapt to different sizes of packages;

Short delivery cycle: Thanks to the standardized composition structure and lightweight overall shape, the linear equipment takes only 10 days from production, transportation, assembly to commissioning, which can quickly meet the user's use needs;

High cost performance: The investment cost of linear equipment is lower than that of the loop line, and it can greatly alleviate the efficiency pressure brought by the increase in operation volume, optimize manpower allocation, and more efficiently complete the tasks of sorting and delivery, and promote the healthy operation of outlets.

Process flow

After the equipment is turned on, the origin of the trolley line and the origin of the bag supply belt are synchronized at both ends by adjusting the speed of the bag supply section; when loading manually, the light curtain scans the package and immediately determines the corresponding trolley number that falls when it flows into the line at the current speed, and sends it to the host computer; after the host computer receives it, the package arrives at the loading point and successfully sends the corresponding trolley PLC to send the corresponding car number and center the package; when it arrives at the target grid position, the unloading instruction is sent to the corresponding trolley PLC, and the trolley rotates to send the package into the grid to unload the package. Cross-belt sorters have become the core equipment of modern logistics systems due to their high efficiency, high precision and flexibility. When selecting a model, small and medium-sized enterprises need to consider their business scale, technical requirements and cost budget to select an appropriate solution. In the future, with the deepening of intelligent and green technologies, cross-belt sorters will demonstrate their revolutionary value in more fields.

#Parcels Sorting system #Cross-belt sorters #linear cross belt sorter #gosunm #intelligent logistics system #logistics equipment

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occasional-yan-stuff · 1 month ago

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really enjoyed your yan otome post! im a fan of stuff like that where characters in traditional video game settings/other media go yan for people irl :3 i saw your post in the community so i wanted to ask- whats your opinion on characters in a standard rpg party setup going yan for the player (possibly healer bc i main white mage in ffxiv lol)? the hero, archer, mage, tank/knight, etc?

Ask and ye shall receive! This will be set up kinda like my berries post, going through characters one at a time. Let's do another isekai type thing, but this time with each yan being kind of an... alternate scenario where that character is the one becoming meta and going yandere, as opposed to there berries where it was sort of a harem. I realize now that you probably wanted a more casual type thing, but I ended up writing little mini stories for each of them. oops!

And now, without further ado...

RPG Archetypes as Yanderes

Pairing: Yandere!Meta!RPG characters (multiple genders) X GN! reader

Warnings: Manipulation (hero, healer, mage, archer), Factitious Disorder Imposed on Another in a non familial context (Healer), implied physical abuse (healer), Obsessive behaviors (all), Possessive behaviors (Healer, Rouge, Tank, Mage, Archer), Stalking (rouge, archer), Blood (rouge), Murder (rouge, tank (implied)), Dubiously consensual SFW touching (Rouge, Tank,), Intelligence degradation (Tank), Nonconsensual kissing (Tank), love spells (Mage), mind control (mage), emotional dependency (Archer)

Details/Tropes: Abuse of italics, Himbo (Tank), Nicknames (hero, rouge, tank), Protector Yan (hero, rouge, tank), Submissive Yan (hero,), Resentful Yan (Rouge), Flirty Yan (tank, archer), YanTsun (Mage), Needy Yan (archer)

THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE, FOLKS! STRAP IN!

It wasn't dramatic. You didn't get hit by a truck and get reborn as a baby. You didn't have a heart attack while playing the game and wake up as the main character. You didn't even get sucked into the console after a bright light came out of it. No, you just went to bed one night and woke up here. You looked exactly like you, you talked exactly like you, you just had different clothes and had somehow woke up in a bed you hadn't gone to sleep in. Looking around the room brought up nothing. It was as if everything had been taken from every drawer. All that was left behind was a set of clothes in the wardrobe. They were brightly colored and gaudy with strong silhouettes, nothing like the typical garb of the medieval-ish setting a quick glance out the window lead you to believe you were in. These looked more like something right out of... oh... oh no.

After getting dressed and taking several minutes to convince yourself, you crept down the stairs of the strange inn to see the party. Your party. They had all of the exact armor upgrades you had given them and had the exact same weapons equipped. You looked around the room and it finally hit you, this was the inn you had saved the game in last night, before you went to bed. This was your save file. You had woken up in your save file.

You talked to the party for a bit and, of course, they recruited you to join. That's just how stories like this go, after all. Traveling with them was fun at first, you loved slaying monsters and getting to know your favorite characters. It was even better because when you died, instead of going back to the inn, it would just take you back to the previous morning, meaning you didn't loose much progress in the adventure, or in building connections with your new friends. Still, as you got to know the party better and better, you couldn't help but notice how odd one of them was acting...

The Hero

He was so instantly sure that it was you. Your voice gave it away instantly. You were the one who has been in his head, telling him what to do, what to say, and how to direct his allies. You were the one he had deemed his Guardian Angel. Now that were here with him, he still wanted to listen to you. You'd gotten him this far, hadn't you? He looked to you for guidance so much that you basically became the de-facto leader of the party.

The first reset was startling to him to say the least but no one else in the party seemed to remember it. That meant it was his duty to make sure what happened before didn't happen again. You had been his Guardian Angel, how he had to be yours. Disobeying your orders to prevent resets was uncomfortable at first but he knew it had to be done. He knew he had to protect you.

You didn't think much of it when it happened. He was, in theory, the leader after all, and you liked to see him taking charge again. However, it eventually became clear that he didn't respond to the resets like other characters, who would behave in the exact same ways and say the exact same things, and you knew you had to confront him about it.

He breathed a sigh of relief that you remembered the resets too. He didn't have to be alone anymore and protecting you wasn't as important. Things could go back to normal, with you being the Guardian Angel that he could never tell you that you were. It was so nice to just take a load off. He always had to be in control, having someone like you to take charge for him and help him with tough decisions was like a breath of fresh air.

It was so nice to be told what to do in battle for a change, it made him feel more like he was on the same level with the rest of the party, and better yet, it made him feel more like he was below you. It was a feeling he couldn't get enough of for whatever reason. Maybe he was just tired of all the challenges, maybe he thought you were better at it, or maybe... it was just the effect that his Guardian Angel had on him.

At times, he would pretend not to know how to do even the most basic of tasks so you would help him or even do it for him. Lighting a fire? Cooking an egg? Putting on his own armor? All skills he magically lost but some how regained the second that anyone but you offered to help him. And every time you did help him, he fell in love with you more and more.

Once you had come along, he quickly lost interest in all 6 of the romance options he had in the original game. You were all he cared about. He loved you. He needed you. His move was finally made about 5 weeks after you appeared in this word. He asked you to come to the beach and look at the sea with him that night. You had played this game time and time again. You knew what that meant, but still, you went. Perhaps it was out of simple curiosity, perhaps it was something more.

That night, he dropped to one knee, unsheathed his sword, and held it up to you. Its black blade glistened in the light of the moon.

"I don't want to be the hero of prophecy anymore," He said, his voice fully certain, "I only want to be yours, my Guardian Angel."

The Healer

She wanted to protect you. Of course she wanted to protect you. She wanted to protect everyone in the party but you... you were different. Perhaps was the amount of interest you took in her that really did it. You were always there to make her feel better in the many many times she got self conscious and you always helped her and the archer make dinner for the rest of the party.

She was, admittedly, pretty darn tropey, but that's part of what drew you to her in the first place. In your old life, you loved writing fanfic that explored her on a deeper level, studying how her backstory influenced certain aspects of her characterization and why she was so motherly towards all the other characters. Now, you had an opportunity to find the real answers to exactly why she was the way she was, what made her tick, and the type of person she was when she really knew someone and could open up to them.

The original game only really treated her as a love interest for the hero and a fragile thing that was there to patch up the rest of the party. Now that you were able to see things from your own perspective, instead of the perspective of the hero, you could finally interact with her without having to worry about going down a romantic route... or so you thought.

She had a tendency to latch onto anyone who payed attention to her and this time, it was you. In here eyes, the rest of the party only ever saw her for her utility, but you saw her as a person and as a friend. She couldn't let you leave her.

She would often give you less healing than you needed, keeping you weak and dependent. What an odd coincidence that she never had enough components or ingredients to make a strong enough spell or potion. The other party members could get healed up fine but maybe there was something about you that made you resistant to healing magic. That was the excuse she always used.

There were some nights where she crept into your tent as you slept and used her spells to decrease your max HP, making you over all weaker and weaker, over all more and more in need of her service. She felt bad about it, a little, but this was the only way she could ensure that you would stay with her. This was the only way she could keep you. It didn't matter that she was breaking her oath to always prioritization the health of others. You were far more important than that.

As was bound to happen on a long journey like this, you got sick once or twice. She adored these periods of illness. It was so lovely to coax soup down your throat and gently stroke your hair. You needed bed rest, after all, and it was up to her to decide when you were all better. Sometimes she wished she could just keep you like this forever but she knew that the dark lord would have to be defeated at some point, and thus always forced herself to put an end to things.

Although she couldn't keep you sick all the time, she was still constantly worried about you and doting. She was always a worrier but now she had someone else to worry about. You noticed how at times she would say things to you that she said to the hero in her romantic route. This made it clear that she had feelings for you.

You didn't want to give her the wrong idea so you began to distance yourself. This didn't make her feelings fade, though. All that happened was her becoming desperate and clingy, always wanting to go on missions with you. Everything came to a head when you offered to go on a side quest with the archer.

You woke up the next morning with a broken leg.

The Mage

The second you got to this world you were deeply interested in magic. This was a bit inconvenient for the mage because they weren't deeply interested in you, seeing you as another pointless addition to an already over crowded party. That was before the first reset, however.

The way the flow of time was connected to your death was fascinating. They didn't show this fascination, of course, being a pretty two dimensional tsundere in the original game where they were a love interest, but it was definitely there. This secret fascination is what made them reluctantly start teaching you magic, so that they could research you.

It was never a secret that they knew about resets. They had assumed the others did as well before they brought it up and everyone looked at them like they had two heads. This was the thought of their theory that only those truly versed in the arcane could remember resets. This only expanded their interest in you, the only other person that remembered.

They were convinced that you had some secret magical knowledge that you were hiding from them, but then why would you ask them to teach you? Just to spend more time with them? That was there assumption but they played along with your 'lessons' because they wanted to study you more.

The more time the two of you spent together, bonding over magic and resets, the more they started to fall for you. It was just like in the game where progress in the mage's romantic arc would give the hero more and more powerful spells to use.

They started using lines from the romantic arc that you had played through time and time again for the spells. You wanted to back away and distance yourself but you remembered the bad end of their romance route: They use a love potion on the hero to keep him theirs forever. Not wanting to suffer the same fate, you let it play out, letting them call you dummy and get flustered just as you remembered it in the game.

That wasn't enough though. They could tell your heart wasn't in it. They could tell that you weren't truly theirs. They really had no other choice than to make you love them.

It was just one of your usual magic lessons when they pressed the flower petal into your palm and whispered those fateful words into your ear.

"This bloom makes you mine and mine alone."

That was all that was needed for your head to go fuzzy and everything to go pink. All you could think of was them. All you needed was them.

The Rouge

One word: Sneaky. They didn't really like people, and, in all honesty, they barely liked you, but something about you drew him to you. They would always stand there, silent, hood up and starting at you. You never found it strange. This was just how they were. The only thing you found truly off putting was the way they would seem to become quietly frustrated every time you spoke with another party member. It was like they saw you as a prize, another treasure to steal.

You were never alone on missions or quests. No, they were always there, watching from the shadows, hand on their knife in case anyone jumped out to attack you. Usually they would handle those who meant you harm without you even seeing either them. It was always so strange how they would be covered in blood whenever you got back from missions.

One night, however, as you walked the dark streets of the city, there was a dangerous person they hadn't spotted. A man much larger than you jumped out and pulled out a knife. He was about to say something but was cut off by the rouge's own blade entering his back and twisting.

The rouge pulled you out of the way of the body, which fell to the earth with a thud, and pulled you close with their blood stained hands.

"No one hurts my treasure," he whispered in your ear

The Tank

He was too dumb to be conniving, but that was ok. Smarts weren't necessary to know how special you were. It seemed to you that with very reset, he would get just a little dumber and just a little more obviously in love with you. Not that he ever wasn't.

He'd always been the type to tease, be it enemies or party members, that's what made him such a fan favorite in the real world, but with you it was more... flirty. Like something straight out of an 'X reader' fic on tumblr. He also had a tendency to use pet names for you. He had nicknames for all of the party members but that was always more playful "red," "sharp shot," "Mx. Silent," stuff like that. For you, it was almost always "cutie."

You were always the priority in fights too. If there was ever an AOE or an attack with multiple projectiles, you were always the one he threw himself in front of.

"wouldn't want anyone ruining that pretty face," he'd say with a smirk.

This was how it started but it got more intense with each reset. Your third death was about the time he started getting all touchy feely. A moment seldom passed with his hands not on you, holding your hand, around your waist, on your thigh. It was as though he thought that letting go would make you disappear.

He also became even less afraid to speak his mind. Other party members would address their dissatisfaction at his prioritization of you over them in combat, to which he would respond "you're just jealous that I like the newbie better than you." and cross his arms with a loud clang emitted from his heavy plate armor.

In the game, there were a lot of things he canonically couldn't do. He couldn't start a fire, he couldn't name certain species of animals off the top of his head, and he couldn't tell a scary story to save his life, just to name a few. More and more skills were lost as the resets went on. By your 10th death, he didn't even know what a deer was called and seemed convinced that the sky was red.

He was more impulsive too, jumping off of water falls to make a big splash, chasing after animals that he was 'helping' the archer hunt, and even kissing you right on the mouth with no warning, squeezing your cheeks with his gauntlets. It was weird. The rest of the party could tell too.

Your 15th reset is when he finally snapped. The party sat around eating breakfast, the hero notably absent. He had been here by now during the previous reset and even pulled you aside after breakfast for a serious talk about the tanks behavior.

"Where's the hero?" you asked to no one in particular.

"Oh," the tank responded with a casual smile, "I didn't like him talking to my cutie."

The Archer

She was fragile, really fragile. Not just because of her low HP, armor, and stamina but also emotionally. It was a common headcanon amongst fans that her charming, flirty attitude was just a defense mechanism for how insecure she was on the inside. Getting to know her in this new world showed you that this was absolutely true.

There were many hours late at night where she would sob to you around the fire, telling you all about a backstory that was never revealed in the actual game. It was heart breaking. You felt so bad for her. These moments were why she became so deeply attached to you.

You became her rock, she would come to you whenever she needed to talk about anything. She practically broke down when you were out of commission for whatever reason. The others respected her as being quick and witty, a fire cracker. She couldn't turn to anyone else.

Still, she was incredibly flirty with you and loved seeing how flustered she could get you. That's one of the main reasons she took you on so many missions with her and hunting trips too, but there was one other reason that the always took you along, other than teasing and emotional stability: she didn't trust the other party members alone with you.

Even when you went on missions with other party members, she was there, using feather light hunting steps not to be detected. You were hers, after all. She couldn't let you have too much emotional investment in anyone else.

Whenever she saw at camp that you were about to have a heart felt moment with another party member, she would step in and ruin it, and if she saw you and another party member have a heart to heart on a mission, she would pull them aside for a chat and they would start avoiding you for whatever reason.

It was ok though, even as everyone but her started to avoid you. She was all you needed. You knew because she always reminded you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #female yandere #nonbinary yandere #gender neutral reader #yandere imagines #yandere rpg #ask #I don't really play a lot of rpgs #so i hope I did a good job #This took up most of my day #some of these are weaker than others #🥀rose🥀

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ozzgin · 2 years ago

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So @moonthundersoldier requested a Predator x Reader headcanon and I have to say, I took my time with it as an excuse to watch Prey and whip out my dusty old comics. I‘m a big fan of Alien and Predator and this was my chance to finally try my hand at it! Hopefully it turns out alright.

Various Predators x Predator! Reader Headcanons

Featuring various Yautja types that independently find and court a mysterious reader raised by humans.

Part 1: Meeting

Part 2: Courting

Part 3: Mating

Backstory

The earliest memory you have of your parents consists only of their wide backs as they hastily controlled the ship, looking for a new hunting ground. You were born to a pair of bad bloods that have been exiled by their clan. They were loudly typing in the parameters for the landing, which so far wasn’t looking gracious. Just as the ship brushed against Earth‘s atmosphere, a foreign vessel appeared behind. Judging by the angry growls of your parents, it wasn’t a good thing.

You of course don’t recall any of it, but what followed was a swift battle once the landing jets touched the ground. The second ship opened up without delay and several Predators in stark white armor marched their way out. They were enforcers, dispatched to hunt down criminals such as your parents. As they finished their gruesome task, they noticed the remaining heat radiating from the cockpit. Had they missed a member? Then again, the overall shape was too small for a regular man. One of the officers climbed into the collapsed remains of the ship and spotted you. Troublesome. He nonchalantly grabbed your carrier and walked out, showing the cause of mild concern to the others. The important things such as weapons were to be returned to Yautja Prime, anything else destroyed. So, what were they supposed to do with you?

The answer was found rather quickly, as their helmets notified them of approaching life forms. Most likely wild animals, in which case you would also be taken care of. The suckling of fugitives could hardly integrate back in the clan. This was for the best. So they quickly discarded the remaining wreckage and boarded their vessel once again.

“Oh God, what is that?” a tall man shouts as he approaches your abandoned carrier, holding tight onto the shotgun. “Some sort of creature…Be careful!”

The plump woman with a sunburned face that had followed behind was now just a few inches from you, bending over with genuine curiosity. “Are you serious right now? Put that shotgun down, it’s a baby!” Seemingly unperturbed by your unusual appearance, she picked you up and briefly analyzed your features before lifting your carrier and turning around. “Let’s go, I’m not leaving a child behind. We’ll figure it out.”

Reader’s countryside life

And so you were raised by honest, loving and - most importantly - human farmers. Since you’ve been equipped with proper, superior intelligence, it has been easy for you to acquire the human language. The clicks and growls were slowly replaced with fully articulated words. Save for your reptilian appearance, you are otherwise an authentic member of the family.

You might have the docile, caring behavior of a human, but your predator instincts have not been discarded. You’re taller and stronger than your “relatives”, and the more dangerous labor of guarding or hunting has been in your hands for many years now. The old shotgun now serves as a dusty wall decoration, it could never compete with your claws, speed and ferocity. Your heart remains that of a hunter.

Eventually it becomes a vague gossip within the cities of Yautja Prime that one of their own might be roaming Earth, completely unaware of their roots. A Predator woman, trained by humans. What would the outcome be? Curiosity peaks for certain Predators and they can’t help but wish to see you with their own eyes. Maybe the different backgrounds would provide future younglings with unknown exotic advantages.

Your peaceful life comes to an end when the first of many suitors descends onto the bizarre planet and manages to track you down. The first encounter leaves you speechless: are there more individuals like you out there? You feel relief flushing over you as the knowledge of similar creatures settles in. You weren’t alone, after all. And soon enough you even learn to describe what you’ve always questioned about yourself. You’re a Yautja, a Predator.

Predators meeting the reader

You’ve really caught the feral Predator’s eyes. He has parted ways with modern technology a long time ago and prefers to hunt with minimal tools. He finds your way of surviving very similar to his tribal lifestyle, relying more on strength and agility that have been polished in raw nature. He’s the one that teaches you the native language and tells you about the Homeworld, though he suspects you come from a different hemisphere. He likes to observe the tactics you’ve developed to hunt the animals of this world and shares his own experience and tips with you. He has grown fond of the wilderness on this planet and plans to propose that the two of you build a family away from the needless hassle of cities. If there’s such a thing as a soul mate, then Black Warrior has entrusted him to be yours.

The visit you receive from an elite Predator is not as cozy. He watches you from afar and notices your interactions with the humans. His guide marks them as targets, so why are you acting all chummy with boring prey? They don’t seem to have combat skills and yet you bring them game and offer protection. He refuses to believe that you’ve been in some way enslaved, bringing shame to your kind. He decides to confront you and demand answers. Having learned the language, you explain that this is your clan, the family that raised you. You’re a bit annoyed that this complete stranger is bringing in his hierarchies and social constructs as some sort of universal law. You do not care for his philosophy of power and warn him to be respectful of the customs here. Aha, there it is. Your imposing figure and assertive threats confirm to him you’re a proper Yautja despite the circumstances. His initial frown is replaced by a satisfied expression. Don’t worry, your potential won’t go to waste in this dump of weaklings. He’ll take you home with him and show you the true meaning of a Predator family. Even if he has to fight you a little for it.

This fugitive bad blood has finally found you. He’d known your parents for a long time and heard about their demise, but he never expected they’d leave an offspring behind. He scans your figure with a certain impertinence, pleased by what he sees. Should he kill the humans and capture you as his mate? It’s certainly the most entertaining option. He smugly shows you his trophy belt, bearing the skulls of defeated prey, and asks you if your little creatures deserve a spot. You assume a fighting stance and erratic clicking sounds erupt from his chest, most likely a laugh. You have no tools and you’ve only ever fought…what…little Earth piglets half the size of a Predator Hound? But it’s alright, he wants a feisty mother for his children. Give your best shot.

By far the most challenging admirer has been the Berserker. You can see the similarity between the two of you, but the blood red eyes are unlike all the other Predators you’ve encountered before. Merely seconds after discovering your presence, the creature attempted to dominate you and you had to trash your way out of its grasp. You try to assess the situation but have little time to contemplate before the next attack occurs. He’s heavier and larger than you or the other Predators and as much as you hate to admit, taking him down could prove difficult. What does he want? He thankfully hasn’t redirected his aim towards your family, and if he so desired he may have killed you by now. He retracts his claws and turns to face you once again. He’s mocking you, not even keeping his guard up. But there’s something else in his eyes, a primal urge that sends cold shivers down your spine. He’s going to make you his.

#predator #predator x reader #yautja #prey #monster x reader

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