#I’m.. not the only one?.. [SENTIENT WEAPONS] | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dindjarindiaries · 4 months ago

Text

Eyes Off

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: “Are you jealous?” “No, I’m not!” “Oh, you really are jealous! Wait, why would you be jealous?” / “Look at me.” / A kiss of jealousy

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

"Of course that's what you're wearing."

Crosshair's unimpressed drawl drew your attention from where you were fastening and concealing your weapons. Considering everyone else had already changed into their civvies, it had to be Hunter that Crosshair was addressing, and one look at the sergeant proved why.

Whereas the rest of the team opted to keep themselves covered in a way that wasn't too unlike their Republic-issued blacks, Hunter didn't shy away from letting his skin breathe. His hands and arms were wrapped up to his elbows, but there was a sizable stretch of skin and muscle leading up to the light-colored sleeveless tunic he wore.

Tech had always ensured that the temperature of the Marauder's interior was regulated, but something had to have been off, because you could've sworn it had just gotten at least ten times hotter.

You were still staring, and Force willing not ogling, as Hunter raised his hands defensively at Crosshair. "What?"

Crosshair scoffed as he shouldered on his pack. He lifted a single eyebrow and flicked his toothpick at his brother. It bounced unceremoniously off one of Hunter's tensed biceps.

The sergeant just smirked in response and shrugged. "I earned 'em." His tone was playful as he lifted his own pack and secured it over his shoulders. "I think I'm entitled to showing 'em off for once."

And thank the Force you did, you would have said if you didn't already have a durasteel lock on your own jaw.

"Ha-ha, yeah!" Wrecker clapped his brother on the shoulder. Hunter rolled it back in response, but nevertheless widened his sly smile as he looked up at Wrecker. "I think ya' look great, Sarge." Wrecker then turned his attention on you, giving your shoulder a nudge with his own. "Right, Sunny?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, but only for a quick moment. Subtlety had never been Wrecker's specialty, and you should have remembered that when you had stayed at 79's until last call with him and spilled out all your secrets. That's what you got for indulging in truth serum for once.

You schooled your expression into nonchalance the best you could and nodded. "Yeah." You lifted your blaster and gave it one last unnecessary check. "It definitely suits you."

Hunter huffed. "I don't even want to know what you mean by that." You snorted in amusement before Hunter refocused and addressed the gathered squad. "We shouldn't be here long, especially since we're dividing and conquering. Tech, Wrecker, you're clear on your objective?"

Tech looked up from his datapad and nodded as he adjusted his goggles. "That is correct."

Wrecker gestured over to Tech with his thumb. "What he said."

Hunter nodded at them both. "Great." He turned to his youngest brother. "Crosshair?"

Crosshair's brow rose once again. "Do you really have to ask?"

Hunter participated in their typical impromptu staring contest for a few heartbeats before he let out a sigh. "I'm taking that as a yes." His attention then shifted to you, and you fought a hard-won battle to not take a visible breath as his dark eyes found yours. "Sunny, you're with me." Hunter motioned for the squad to follow as he stepped towards the open hatch. "Let's move out."

You kept your attention on the way ahead as the squad walked out of the hangar together and through the throngs of sentients that crowded the planet's streets. Eventually, as you and Hunter got closer to your own destination, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair peeled off to attend to their own objectives. You tried not to tense as you kept yourself close to Hunter's side.

"Hmm." Hunter's hum got your attention, and you looked over to see his brow creased the way it often did when he was reaching out with his senses. "It's gonna be crowded in there." He gave you a glance and nodded. "Stay close. We might have to push our way through."

You nodded and obeyed, getting close enough for one of his arms to brush against yours. It was hard to focus with the warmth of his skin meeting yours in endless succession, but you threw your mindset into the mission as the two of you stepped inside the cantina.

As soon as you crossed the threshold, you could feel the eyes on you—only they weren't on you specifically. They were on him.

You could have accredited the lingering stares to the fact that Hunter presented much more like a regular clone than the others, and he may have been getting some undue attention for that, but you could identify the kind of looks he was getting all too well. Gazes flickered up and down, heads did double takes, and some people even giggled with their peers.

You should have found it amusing. The others certainly would have if they were there. Instead, it filled you with a pool of a sickly feeling almost like dread, coiling in your stomach and twisting into an uncomfortable knot.

It was an unmistakable wave of intense jealousy, and you weren't strong enough to fight it.

You were drawing yourself even closer to Hunter's side before you could stop it, your eyes cautiously scanning your surroundings as you did so. Another strong flare of jealousy's angry green haze saw you taking his arm and wrapping your hands around it, securing you to his side as you smiled in satisfaction at the way many of the hungry scares awkwardly flickered away from the two of you.

But your actions didn't go unnoticed by him. Hunter stopped pushing through the crowd long enough to turn his head and look at you with his full attention. "You okay?"

You looked up at him with innocent eyes, and his gaze gestured to the grasp you still had on his arm. You offered him a quick nod. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just..." You glanced around the room again. "A little overwhelmed."

Hunter's warm eyes studied yours as he softened. "I get it. We won't be here long, though, like I said before." He nodded towards the bar. "C'mon. We're almost there."

You went forward with him, selfishly indulging in the feeling of his warmth—and the arm you still had a tight grasp on. You were pleased to note it was just as strong and solid as it had looked.

Once Hunter had successfully maneuvered your way to the bar and had made enough room for the two of you there, you reluctantly let go of his arm and simply stood at his side. Your arms were still brushing at the close proximity, your focus was still going to any wandering eyes that caught sight of him.

You should have been focused on the objective and helping Hunter get information out of the bartender, but you had other priorities. Like Hunter had insinuated before, he had worn what he was wearing for a reason. Did that mean he wanted one of these people to approach him?

The thought alone made you sick. It shouldn't have, because you weren't his and he wasn't yours, but that didn't matter.

"You sure you're okay?"

Hunter's low voice of concern brought your attention back to him. You glanced over to see him furrowing his brow at you.

"You seem on edge."

You shrugged and looked past the sergeant, seeing someone just behind him staring holes through his back. You fought back a growl and forced yourself to answer normally. "I'm just seeing a lot of eyes on you." You blinked and quickly rushed to correct yourself. "Us."

But the damage had already been done. One of Hunter's eyebrows shot up in suspicion as he continued to look at you. "That's nothing new, especially not for me."

You circled your jaw. "Yeah, but..." Your gaze flickered over him before you could stop it. "It's different this time."

Hunter looked ahead, his expression taut as he pondered something, and then you saw his dark eyes light up with realization. You winced quietly before he even had the chance to speak.

"Wait." He looked over at you again, the small pieces of hair that escaped his bandana bouncing on his forehead as the corners of his lips rose in a small smile. "Are you jealous?"

You forced out a scoff and began to flounder. "No, I’m not!" You looked down, your gaze searching. "I-I'm just..."

It was too late. You were too flustered to think of a viable excuse, and your ears and face were burning so hot that you were half-convinced Hunter's senses had already picked up on the temperature change.

"Oh, you really are jealous." Hunter said the words with a chuckle, and his bare shoulder playfully nudged yours.

You fought off the sudden waves of embarrassment valiantly and looked anywhere but at him. He was clearly still joking, and you were stuck between playing it off again or at least wanting him to put the pieces together. This one-sided thing you had going on was getting too exhausting.

That made his next words even less of a surprise than they probably should have been. "Wait... why would you be jealous?"

Your gaze flickered over to meet Hunter's, but you looked away from him just as quickly. Your stare focused on your fingers as they picked at the skin around your nails. This was not a conversation you wanted to have here, especially not when he was looking like that.

"Hey." Hunter's voice was achingly soft now as he set a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Look at me."

You relented, your guilty gaze finding his—which was full of comfort and, surprisingly, understanding. Your brow knit together, though the knot in your stomach began to loosen when Hunter's hand suddenly moved from your shoulder to the one you had closest to him on the bar. His stare lowered and watched as his wrapped hand wove his fingers through yours and gave your own hand a soft squeeze.

Hunter looked at you again, and he gave you a reassuring nod. "You have nothing to worry about."

All you could do was blink at him, any words you could have possibly wanted to say dying on your tongue. You were trying to read him and make sure you weren't misinterpreting the signals he was sending you. Was he saying that because he had requited feelings, or just to assure you that he wasn't looking for anything from anyone?

Hunter huffed and gave his head a fond shake. "You've been noticing the eyes on me, and I..." He paused, his jaw tightened as he narrowed his eyes at something behind you. "Have been tracking the eyes on you."

Your eyes widened in surprise. You must have been so wrapped up in your jealousy towards Hunter that you failed to notice how people had been looking at you, too. Your civvies did hug your body in a way your typical tactical gear didn't...

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" You had no choice but to ask. You couldn't live with the anticipation anymore.

Hunter nodded and looked at your entwined hands again. He gave yours another squeeze. "The feeling's mutual."

You couldn't keep the smile from growing on your lips. Honestly, you should have known better, but reason and feelings never paired well together, anyway. All you could do was let out a soft laugh as you also looked down at your hands.

"What do you think?"

When Hunter spoke again, you looked up, suddenly realizing how much closer the two of you had gotten. Hunter clocked the minimized distance, too, his warm gaze flickering to your lips before he went on.

"Should we give them something else to stare at?"

You hummed, pretending to have to consider the offer even as your traitorous body already started to lean closer. "I think that's a good plan, Sarge."

Hunter chuckled, though the warmth that sound brought you was nothing compared to the feeling of his lips on yours.

You inhaled one another like it was your first full breath of oxygen, with Hunter's free hand catching the side of your face and jaw to keep you locked in place. Meanwhile, your free hand rose to his bicep, anchoring yourself to him as each breath passed between you and each tease of his tongue threatened to make your knees buckle underneath you. It was utterly dizzying, and it made you completely forget about everything and everyone else around you, for better or for worse.

When you parted, Hunter was quick to clock the sight of your hand on his arm. His lips gave way to a sly smile, and your brow shot up as you mused upon his words from earlier.

"This is what you wanted all along, isn't it?" You shook your head at him in fondness. "I was the person you were 'showing 'em off' for."

Hunter shrugged, playing innocent for now. "Maybe, maybe not."

You scoffed. "Do we even have a real objective here?"

"Well, we did." He gave your hand another squeeze. "But we just completed it."

You gave your eyes a roll. "Force, Hunter..."

"The others' objectives are real, though."

You couldn't help laughing at that. Leave it to the sergeant of the Bad Batch to use an actual mission as a way to somehow get you both to finally break the ice. "And the bartender?" You nodded towards the nearest one. "You just made that up?"

"Not really." Hunter's smirk remained as he caught the bartender's eye. "I do need to talk to them... to get us some drinks."

You blinked at him before you laughed even harder. You shifted your hand onto the arm closest to you and rested your head against his bare shoulder the best you could manage, relishing in the wave of content that rolled over you.

It was an unconventional way for your mutual feelings to surface, but that was just who Hunter was, and you couldn't hide the way you loved it.

#so um this got away from me and it's essentially one-shot length...#i hope you enjoy it :'D #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #also my obligatory reminder that 'sunny' is a nickname i've been using in tbb fanfics forever and i stole MY name from that #this is not a self insert i promise sljsdlkj #oh and ALSO i've definitely used this gif before but shhhhhh #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 5 months ago

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Yandere Male Musume: Suu Me

Rules | Kofi | Monster Musume Masterlist

Since the implementation of the schedule, life with the monster boys was much easier. With the mere mention of the days that belonged to each of them, fights were broken up, arguments were settled, and they were more adamant about keeping each other in check. Even Smith’s appearances seemed to die down, his calls, and voicemails dwindling into much of nothing. The only thing you had as proof that he even remembered you all was the hefty grant.

You would not be making the same mistake as Kurusu. You were getting that cheque, baby!

So far life has been good. You were expecting something soon, after all the mermaid was next. After the slime of course, but even that was an unknown variable.

In the anime, it was clear that Suu had made a conscious decision to pursue them and the girls had accepted her. Becoming close with the slime as she grew into herself and the home she’d joined. She was their friend. It’s not that you didn’t think they could make friends….it’s just that they acted like that was the most absurd thing to do.

“Alright, Pypi it’s your turn to roll! Here’s the die.”

“Darling, you shouldn’t bother. The peanut brain doesn’t even have hands, he’s not going to figure it out.”

“Milo, that’s mean! You don’t say that to your friend.”

“He’s not my friend.” “Oh yeah? Well.....you don’t even have a penis!”

“Pypi?!” “Yes, I do and I can promise I’m much bigger than yours!”

“Guys stop it!”

Too many times have you had to risk your limbs to stop one or the other from choking one another or poisoning each other or trying to throw each other out the window. It doesn’t scream an environment a sentient slime is going to want to join. The only one who had any chance of being decently friendly would be Centoreo but even he had his moments

One evening you found him polishing his daggers, in the living room. Turning to smile at you, when you asked him why he needed to polish it. Unlike in the anime, he doesn’t use his weapons as much; revealing the weaponry case on few occasions.

“Because Milo thought he’d take a cheap shot while I was cooking,”

“What!? Are you okay? Is he okay? What happened?”

Centoreo squinted his eyes at his reflection in the metal, letting his even smile become lopsided as he smirked.

“He’s just licking his wounds now. Touched a sore spot or something. You know how he is.”

“Yeah…I guess.”

You decided not to question further only noting how despite his gentleness with you that was far from the case with the others. Even more concerning Pypi the harpy, who was supposed to be the slime’s best friend, seemed far too focused on gaining your affection than making friends.

“Ne bird-guy! You wanna play?”

“Oh Pypi these neighborhood kids want to play do you maybe want to play with them?”

“Pft-no.”

“...why not? You love playing sports.”

“Yeah with you and maybe with our chicks when we hatch them.”

“Well…what about practice?”

Pypi blushed and sighed, “I guess but only because you asked.”

BAM!

“Ow! Wahhh!”

“Pypi, apologize!”

It just seemed highly unlikely that the slime would be getting anything more than a simple welcome before being the subject for many assassination attempts. It’s a shame considering in comparison to the girls Suu actually represented one of the healthier relationships with Kurusu. Minus a couple instances of accidental drowning. A lot of the other monster girls had weird implications and violent repurcussions that usually left the human man with dire wounds. You would not be him.

That being said just because you were able to avoid broken limbs didn’t mean you’re coming out completely unscathed. Being the only real peacemaker it was mostly up to you for order to be maintained. While Centoreo was great at breaking up fights he wasn’t a fair mediator and recently he’d been exhibiting a ‘pacifist’ style where—and you quote, ”Perhaps if we let the idiots attack one another one of them will get the job done!”

All that meant for you was there was one less obstacle for somehow being responsible for the monster-men attacking each other. Thus using the usually ignored communal time to take a trip to the store you took the most reactive roommate of yours.

“Oh Darling~We haven’t been on a date in sooo long!”

You lightly chuckled,”But your day was just a little while ago.”

“So? Being stuck fighting off those saboteurs is hardly a date!”

He scooped you up, completely unbothered by the curious passerbys and the way you nervously tried to hide your face.

“But now we get to go out on a real date! And it’s the first one initiated by you!”

That was surprisingly true, with the possibility of Suu not arriving there was a growing chance that nothing would get better. That their violent bickering would continue to escalate and with no one to care for they’ll only be focusing on you. So to maybe flicker the kindling of a somewhat friendly relationship, you decided to remove instigator #1.

“..Yeah…I guess this is the first.”

Who were you to shatter his delusion? Not someone who wanted to deal with the fall out of refusing a mentally unstable naga–that’s who. If it meant that Centoreo and Pypi might bond or even team up against Milo, in his absence it would just be better for everyone you that you’ll take a single “date” for the team.

“Oh Darling why don’t we get a sundae! Or a milkshake one that we can share together!”

You let him pull you along into the pastel colored ice cream shop, ignoring the curious gazes of a couple passerbys. Speaking of passerbys that annoying couple Kurusu and the girls pass by hasn’t really shown themselves like at all. You can count on one hand the trips you and Milo have taken to town and off the top of your head you can’t think of anyone you encountered that resembled them.

“Honey! Can I have your wallet to buy the treats?”

“But Milo it doesn’t really make a difference—”

“Honey?!”

“Alright Alright, I’ll go get us a seat outside.”

“Thank you, Darling!”

Ignoring the concerned gazes of the employees you turned to do exactly as you said. Sat in your seat, fighting boredom as you watched Milo playfully hiss at the frightened employee. You could tell just by his body posture that he was only bluffing. Sighing and face-palming it dawns on you how much you’d truly come to know him and subsequently the others. What was it? Weeks? Months? Since you’ve landed in this world and assumed the main character’s role to the genderbent versions of his harem and to think it hardly truly begun. With tons more incidents and other monsters to go it was grounding for your only worry to be appeasing the three you have. A small part of you hoped by some divine intervention you’d only have them to deal with for the rest of your time here.

Splosh!

Looking above you were certain that major droplet might signal oncoming rain but a quick look around disproved that. Writing off the sound as someone likely spilling something far away you returned to watching Milo in the window.

Sploosh!

Seeing the Naga already returning with an unbelievably loaded milkshake stuffed with two straws. It didn’t seem like he’s the cause of the mysterious splishing sound and no one inside the store seemed to either. You figured you’d ignore it since Milo was already pouting at you.

“Darling! You can’t daydream about me when I’m right in front of you! I mean I love being the only one on your mind but you’ve got to look at me babe!”

“Yeah yeah sorry, Milo I just thought I was hearing–”

“Don’t you worry about it, darling! Now take a sip of their infamous double decker, extra sweet, milkshake—”

PLOP!

“Eeeugh what is that!?”

A slime has appeared and it’s staring cutely at you as it dissolves the milkshake Milo just bought with your money. All its doing is looking up at you with yellow ‘eyes’, mimicking the tilt of your head as you inspected it. It truly was the most bizarre monster you’d come across. While it was a shock to see Milo and his tail mystically twirl around you there wasn’t a doubt that you were looking at was real. With Suu the fact you could see through them while they were still looking at you. It was completely amazing.

Your concentration was broken by Milo, who was trying to pull the feasting slime off the disappearing milkshake. He was failing his hands only wafting through the unperturbed blob; repeating the action it made you laugh at how goofy he looked. That made the Naga pause letting a blush take over his face as he examined yours. When was the last time he’d seen you laugh so earnestly? The small smile creeping on his face fell when he realized the blob had turned from you and was looking at him. Bopping up and down with a rhythm of your laughter almost like it was trying to demonstrate that it was laughing too.

Milo hissed loudly scaring away the remaining guests at the cafe’s front. Honestly that might have been better for the exchange if less people saw how angry he was getting over a simple slime.

Instead of trying to grab the slime he just outright picked up the table, launching the slime and the glassware on it into the wall of an office building across the street. While the level of strength from Milo wasn’t a surprise to you, the fact it was being done in public made this feel wrong. Darting your head around you looked for anyone who was still around and holding their phone up. You found one—a teenager still in the cafe snickering at the video. Grabbing Milo’s hand had his countenance change in an instant; the rush of blood in his cheeks weakening to his usual blush.

“C-c’mon Milo maybe we should just head home or to the park…a secluded part in it.”

“Aw how forward, Darling.”

The feeling of his tail curling around you, felt restricting but anything to divide his attention. It took awhile but you eventually were able to lead him away from the populated area. With no sign of Suu nearby and most people avoiding the wooded area of the park, you decided to continue your date there. Which Milo was starting to make you regret.

“Oh Darling! You picked the perfect place! Not only are we alone but we’re so far from the families they’d hardly hear it if you let out a scream.”

“Milo I just took us here because of what happened at the cafe—”

“Hush hush it doesn’t really matter why we’re here. Just that we are and we’re finally alone.”

“Milo–” you started to scold him but stopped on the account of whiplash disorienting you.

Faster than you can register Milo had flipped you on your back, propping your head up with the slimming side of his tail. Naturally you flailed allowing Milo to snatch your wrists with calculated precision, the rest of him lightly trapping your legs from kicking. Holding your wrists above your head he let his chilled noise trail from your cheek to the collar of your shirt where he paused. Looking at your frightened expression with a blush more intense than his angered face he bit at the cloth, teasingly beginning to tear downward.

You wanted to scream. Anything to deter what was happening now! The second you opened your mouth the end of the tail beneath you shoved its way into your mouth; invasively pushing further down your throat doing much more than silencing you. Milo hummed his smile faltering as he fought back the sound threatening to come out. Other than the silent movement of your bodies against the grass, your muffled gagging, and Milo’s hushed whimpers if anyone did hear they’d do nothing to intervene. Looking into Milo’s eyes to plead only seemed to egg him further as the tip of his tail pulled out before pushing back in the curious gentleness it had before beginning to wane. Milo was getting louder and if it was possible his face was getting redder.

“Oh Darling will we do it? Oh~! Finally consummate our bond that I’ve been ~aw~dreaming of?”

He pulled his tail out of your mouth momentarily allowing you to breath. Coiling and curling tighter around as you coughed. Finally gaining your breath you tried to speak, his tail shoving back in. Transferring both of your wrists to one of his hands he smirked at you.

“Ah but you’ve been doing so much! I think it’s finally,” his hand tore the remaining fabric of your shirt; languidly tracing his hand along your stomach. In a teasing pace he let his index and middle finger walk to the buckle of your belt, ”time-for-you-to-feel good.”

He slashed through the belt. Your eyes began to burn as you prepared for what you hoped to avoid from the very beginning.

“Darling. Please baby look at me. I want you to look at me when I—Ahhh!”

In a flash of blue Suu descended from the treetops to firmly hold his blobness on the unprepared Naga’s head. It took him a moment before he had to unravel himself from you, all his limbs trying desperately to take off the blob hoping for air. Of course they were all unsuccessful making the naga writhe as he fought for the air he was gradually running out of. For once you didn’t feel the need to intervene. You already knew if you confronted him about this later he’d shrug you off or coo about the private conversation you were having. Maybe taking advantage of Suu to put the monster man in his place might be the best call. Milo holds out longer than you expect allowing you to reset your outfit as much as possible, taking your time to pout over the torn remains of your shirt. At one point he turns to you reaching out as if you could do better than he—your response being a tongue stuck out as you held up the remains of your shirt. Its after another two minutes that Milo starts to slow, barely fighting any more. That’s when the tiny eensy bitty little feeling of guilt comes in.

“Hey Suu, maybe you can let up for now?”

The blob’s eyes look to you, to stare. For a minute you wonder if they even understand you, thinking back it took Papi and the girls a minute to actually get Suu to communicate. Just as you begin to think about how you’d go about removing the slime, Suu seems to expand. Doing the exact opposit of you ask to fully engulf the torso of the naga, who’s no longer struggling.

“C-c’mon please don’t kill him! He get’s on my nerves sometimes but I really don’t want him to die.”

You try in vain to grab a hold of Suu who continues to stare as they grow. Worried that this wasn’t a matter of suffocating but actually catching and eatting prey that they were exhibiting. It’d make sense that a slime, smart enough to evolve to speak would pick up on Milo’s earlier intent to kill them and was now retaliating.

So many thing had changed in this version of the world…

You just didn’t think it’d constitute one of the main character’s dying.

“Suu please! Don’t Suu!”

You kept your hands in them holding on to Milo as his blinking was getting slower and slower. Looking through the blue haze at the first student you housed, the finality of this moment dawning as he tried to smile at you. The quirk of his lips so small you barely noticed. The grip you had on him being the only force on Milo’s weakening body.

Seeing the droplets fall from your face into the blob, it was then you realized you were actually crying.

Crying for Milo who was no longer breathing.

Closing your eyes, you tried to burn the memories of a living Milo.

You should have never tried so hard to make them into friends.

You should have never taken Suu’s arrival so lightly.

You should have never gone on this date.

“(Y/n), you’re crying?”

That whiney despicably sweet voice made you snap your eyes open. There was Milo shirtless and without the blueness of Suu’s body. You could feel his tail slowly dragging along the grass closer to you. Even barely awake he could never leave you alone.

Seeing the monster happily breathing, you look up at the blob who was just a step away. Fully transformed into something similar to Milo holding up the shirt the Naga was wearing. Wondering why he didn’t just wear it you watched him, keeping eye contact with the slime. Suu walked forward Milo still getting in front of you as a shield. Still the slime came forward presenting the shirt to you, folded and with a small dampness that remained from Suu’s person.

“Thank you.”

The slime smiled and repeated your words just like they did with Papi, it made you smile. Seems like Suu didn’t change all that much.

Milo sneered, “This slime almost killed me! Don’t gift him with your thanks Darling!”

You glared at him, dropping the shirt to smack the naga upside the back of his head.

“Only one of you ruined my shirt and touched me inappropriately today; they are the only one who deserves my thanks.”

Milo slumped into his coils, pretending to cry because you ‘yelled’ at him.

“And along with my thanks I’d like to offer you something,” you smiled as you finished putting on the Naga’s shirt, “how would you like to live with us, Suu?”

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natalianovnas · 2 months ago

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༄ `. 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒

summary : kate thinks she’s subletting a room from a friend, but due to a mix-up, she ends up living with you instead. you’re opposites—organized and quiet, while kate is chaotic and loud. naturally, feelings get involved... right after a series of hilarious arguments and domestic tension.

warnings : humor, (kind of) slow-burn romantic chemistry.

words count : 0.8k || masterlist

an : kinda thought abt yelena a lot while making this so if their characters are acting alike im sorry.

The day you opened your front door to find a ponytail-style haired brunette standing there with a duffel bag, a pizza box, and a smug smile, you knew the universe had messed up.

“Hi!” She said brightly, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. “You must be Y/N. I’m Kate. Your new roommate.”

You blinked. “My what?”

Kate tilted her head. “I’m renting the spare room. Got the key and everything—” She jingled it like a trophy, “—from Yelena. Said she moved out last week and you needed someone to cover the rent.”

You stared at her, then at the key, then at the bag slung over her shoulder like she was about to crash a summer music festival.

“I didn’t agree to that,” You said flatly.

Kate’s confident expression faltered for a second. “Well, technically I agreed to it. Jess said she told you.”

“She did not.”

Kate blinked. “Okay, well, pizza?”

And that was how it began. You didn’t even like pizza that much.

💭 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 💭

By week two, you were convinced Kate Bishop had been sent by fate to test your patience.

Your morning routine, once peaceful, was now punctuated by the sound of a blender she ran at full volume at 6:30 a.m. for her "green weapon smoothie." She left her shoes everywhere—hallway, bathroom, once in the kitchen sink (don’t ask). And she talked to her dog, Lucky, like he was a sentient roommate with opinions. Loudly.

But she also brought you coffee when you had late shifts. She did the dishes without being asked. And she made you laugh in that way that hit you five seconds too late, leaving you smiling alone like a fool.

Still, it didn’t stop you from griping.

One evening, you stormed into the living room where Kate was sprawled on the couch in sweatpants, one hand feeding Lucky pizza crusts and the other holding a remote.

“You used my fancy shampoo again,” you accused.

Kate didn’t even look up. “Relax. It smells like you, so it’s technically your fault for choosing something that good.”

“That bottle cost me twenty dollars.”

“Worth it. My hair is thriving.”

You groaned and flopped onto the armchair, burying your face in a throw pillow. “I can’t live like this.”

Kate turned to you, a sly smile curling her lips. “You know, most people find me extremely tolerable.”

“Who said that?”

“I did. Just now.”

You looked at her, exhausted but amused. “You’re unbelievable.”

She winked. “Takes one to live with one.”

💭 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 💭

Over the next month, something shifted. The tension between you wasn’t just irritation anymore—it was something else.

It lingered in the air when your hands brushed while reaching for the same mug. It lived in the long glances when she thought you weren’t looking. It settled deep in your chest when you found her asleep on the couch after a patrol, Lucky curled at her feet and the city’s chaos left behind her like she didn’t carry it all on her shoulders.

You started noticing the little things.

How she hummed Taylor Swift songs under her breath when she cooked. How she kept a picture of her mom taped inside a notebook. How she always looked up when you walked into the room, like you were the most interesting thing to happen all day.

You weren’t sure when your irritation had become affection. But it hit you full force one Friday night when you walked into the apartment soaked from the rain, shivering and tired, only to find that Kate had left you a towel, your favorite hoodie, and a mug of hot tea on the kitchen counter—with a sticky note that said:

“See? Not the worst roommate ever. – K”

💭 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 ✈︎ 𖦹 💭

Later that night, you found her in the hallway, her face lit only by the glow of her phone. She looked up as you approached.

“You’re dripping on the floor,” She said, but her voice was soft.

“Thanks for the tea,” You replied.

She shrugged, “Basic hospitality.”

You stepped closer. “Kate,”

“Yeah?”

You hesitated, heart thudding, unsure of what came next. “You didn’t have to. But I’m glad you did.”

She tilted her head, “You’re not mad about the shampoo anymore?”

“I’m letting it go.”

“Progress,” She whispered with a grin.

There was a beat of silence, and then you both laughed, quietly and nervously, like you were standing on a line neither of you knew who would cross first.

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” She said suddenly. “Would it ruin everything if I kissed you right now?”

Your breath caught. “Would it?”

Kate didn’t move. “I guess that depends on whether you want me to.”

You looked at her—really looked at her. Her hair slightly messy, her socks mismatched, her eyes nothing but honest.

And you realized you’d been waiting for this without even knowing it.

“I do.”

And just like that, she stepped forward and kissed you. It wasn’t dramatic or slow-motion. It was warm and real, slightly awkward at first, like two people finding the rhythm that had been building between them for weeks. But then it deepened—soft, lingering, everything you didn’t know you needed.

When you pulled apart, she leaned her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a breath. “Best accidental roommate ever?”

You smiled, eyes fluttering shut. “Yeah. You might actually be.”

💌 totally not procrastinating on my nat's series :))

#𓂃 ๋ ࣭ 𔘓 natalianovnas #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop #kate bishop fluff #hailee steinfeld

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kikyoupdates · 2 months ago

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Made to Destroy ⭑˚💎⭑ 𝑎 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑦 𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑒

bnha x op!reader

op!reader, my hero academia x fem!reader, reverse harem, over powered reader, f!reader

You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy.

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“Not a real human,” Aizawa mumbles weakly. “So… what are you trying to say?”

“To clarify, I don’t mean that she was conceived artificially,” Dr. Iwase says. “There are plenty of parents who employ various methods in order to have children, and all of those are perfectly acceptable, thanks to medicine’s advancements. But when I say that [Name] isn’t a real human, I mean that she was not conceived, but rather, created. Time and time again, she’s said that her very first memory is waking up in front of the man who harmed her, no? And while it’s true that children often experience infantile amnesia to some extent, it still wouldn’t make sense for her to have absolutely zero memories preceding that event. Which is why I believe… [Name] was created by that man, who is presumably a scientist, and she took her very first breath on the same day you met her.”

Aizawa swallows. Right. He had a feeling that this was where the conversation was headed.

“She was created just recently,” Dr. Iwase continues. “Which would mean that she never experienced the gestation stage, nor infantile development, as ordinary humans do. It would also explain why her medical data is so puzzling to me. Considering everything we know about her, and how strange her circumstances are, I can’t think of any other explanation, no matter how far-fetched it may seem.”

“So, what then?” Aizawa frowns. God, he feels like he’s going to be sick. It’s true that for a while now, deep down, he’s felt like you were quite different from the other kids. But nothing could have prepared him for such a harrowing revelation.

“[Name] was created,” Dr. Iwase goes on, frowning slightly. “And… I still don’t understand how that man transplanted a Quirk. I’ve never heard of Quirks being donated from one person to the next. But [Name] said that he mentioned something about wanting her to be durable, and that alone tells me that she wasn’t created to fill the role of a child. If that were the case, he could have used virtually any other means to conceive her. The fact that he artificially engineered a human can only mean that whatever his intentions were, they can’t possibly have been good. After all, why would she need such a powerful regeneration Quirk? It’s almost as if he intended for her to get hurt. Perhaps, and it sickens me to even suggest it, but… perhaps she was meant to be used as a weapon.”

Aizawa slams his fist against the wall without even realizing it, and Dr. Iwase flinches, visibly taken aback.

“Shit,” Aizawa curses. “Sorry, I’m… I’m just really pissed off right now. I just can’t understand what kind of maniac would do something like that. It doesn’t matter how she came to exist. The fact of the matter is that she does exist. She’s living and breathing, just like the rest of us, and she’s a kid, for crying out loud! I don’t care if her circumstances are unique. You can’t look at her and tell me she’s not a real little girl.”

Dr. Iwase nods, then offers a sad smile. “Yes. Of course, I agree. [Name] behaves just like any other child would. Her background doesn’t make her any lesser than her peers. When I said she wasn’t a real human, I was just trying to stress that her existence came about artificially, rather than naturally. But she is alive and sentient, just like you and I are. It goes without saying that she needs to be protected.”

“Artificially engineering a human,” Aizawa scowls. “Doesn’t that violate some code of ethics? People can’t be playing God like that. Not to mention that whoever created her most likely had malicious intentions, and she’s already admitted to being hurt by him. I swear, when I find this lowlife…”

Aizawa withdraws his fist from the wall and clenches it even tighter. His knuckles are bright red, and a few spots of blood stain his skin. He slowly drops his fist to his side, but all the while, this entire body is shaking.

He’s a hero. All his life, he’s fought to protect other people. It’s a valiant, noble pursuit, even though he would certainly never refer to himself using such pretentious terms.

But here’s the thing. Heroes don’t kill. No matter how dangerous the villain, no matter the danger that they face, heroes must always strive to apprehend criminals and bring them back to the police, rather than ending their lives outright.

Aizawa is a hero, so it goes without saying that he must adhere to those rules.

And yet, whenever it concerns you, it’s almost as if all the rules go flying straight out the window.

The man who did this to you… the absolute scumbag that had the nerve to think of you as a tool…

Aizawa has already made up his mind.

If he ever crosses paths with that sicko, he’s going to make him wish he was dead.

“Whoever is responsible for [Name]’s existence is no doubt a criminal wanted on several heavy charges,” Dr. Iwase nods gravely. “He won’t go unpunished. Although finding him will be a trickier matter, since we don’t know his name, or his general location, and as of now, a vague physical description is the most that we have. Perhaps more details will come to [Name] over time. Either way, I’m sure the police will want to investigate this matter, as it seems highly dangerous. Artificially engineering humans, and not only that… but transplanting Quirks. This can’t possibly bode well.”

That much is obvious. Aizawa has never heard of Quirks being given to people. He always thought they could only ever manifest naturally. Perhaps this deranged scientist discovered a way to pull it off after years of research. It sounds difficult to believe, but considering everything else that’s been discussed here today, it certainly isn’t impossible.

“At the very least, I suppose we finally have a bit more information to go off now,” Dr. Iwase sighs. “You should contact the police and fill them in on what we discussed. Give my contact information as well, so that I can weigh in and tell them my theory. It’s possible that I’m completely off the mark, but if nobody’s come looking for [Name] after all this time… it’s either this, or perhaps, her parents have already passed away.”

Aizawa shakes his head. “No. What you’re saying makes sense. And supposing her parents really are deceased, it’s still strange how she claims she never knew them. Everything happening here is far too abnormal. I think, despite the initial confusion, we’ve finally figured out the truth. Even if the truth is hard to swallow.”

Dr. Iwase nods again, still with that tinge of sadness in his eyes. It really is unfortunate that this is the reality that’s been thrust upon you. Details aside, you are a kid. You think and act just like one. You’re innocent and carefree, and when you smile, Aizawa swears the whole world gets brighter.

It’s up to him to protect that radiant smile of yours.

“Thank you again for meeting with me,” Aizawa bows. “This was a necessary discussion, and I’m glad we were at least able to clear some things up. If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking [Name] home now.”

“It’s no problem. I wish I could say that the worst part is over, but… it seems like this battle has only just begun.”

“That’s fine,” Aizawa says. He narrows his dark eyes. “No matter how long it takes, and no matter how difficult it is, I’ll do everything in my power to get that bastard locked up. Someone needs to teach him that lives aren’t meant to toy with.”

He bows once more, then re-enters the room, where you’ve been waiting obediently this whole time.

“What happened?” you frown. “I heard a loud noise coming from outside. Did someone get hurt?”

Aizawa quickly hides his red, aching knuckles behind his back. “I just tripped,” he lies. “And I bumped into the wall a bit hard.”

“Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

You hop off the exam table and walk over to him, peering up through wide, concerned eyes. Aizawa thinks it’s adorable how you worry about him. You’ve got so much on your plate as it is, and yet, you always seem to be putting others first.

You’ll be an amazing hero.

“I’m okay,” Aizawa reassures. He crouches down next to you, then uses his uninjured hand to ruffle your hair. “I just spoke to the doctor, and he said you’re still perfectly healthy, so we can leave now. And since you’ve been so patient with all these hospital visits, I’ll make sure to get you as many burgers as you want today.”

It only takes a second for you to explode from excitement.

“Really?!” you exclaim, and you start jumping up and down, unable to contain yourself. “Oh my gosh, it’s a burger fest! I’m gonna get ten, no—fifteen burgers! And you already promised, so no take-backs!”

Aizawa chuckles softly. “No take-backs. Today, you can have your fill.”

There’s a good chance you’ll throw up from overeating, but he supposes every kid has to learn that the hard way. As long as you’re happy, then he’s happy too.

Either way, there’s no doubt about it now. You have no family to return to, and regardless of how long the investigation goes on for, it’s highly unlikely anyone will ever come looking for you. But that’s okay. Just because you’re different from the other kids doesn’t mean you’ll have to suffer for it. Aizawa will make sure that your life is filled to the brim with joy, excitement, and everything a kid could ever want.

From now on, he will be your family.

A few days ago, something truly horrible happened.

You threw up while eating your beloved burgers.

But how? How could they betray me like this?

To put it simply, you are flabbergasted. You always believed that burgers could do no wrong. And yet, after stuffing your face with countless of them, which was pretty much the best moment of your life, you were suddenly seized by a violent sensation in your stomach, and you ended up having to purge into a toilet.

“This is why you need to pace yourself,” Aizawa said. “I let you have a bunch of burgers, but you see what happened? If you eat too much of anything, you’ll get sick. From now on, be more aware of your own limits, okay? But I guess I’m also to blame, since I let you keep eating despite knowing it wasn’t going to end well.”

It was a harrowing experience, and even that is an understatement. But you suppose you’ve learned an important lesson.

Even a burger—the most amazing food in the world—can be a double-edged sword if not wielded carefully.

But mostly, you learned that you don’t like to throw up. It was icky.

Anyways, you’re back in school now. The whole class was given several days off from school because of the hostage situation at the museum. The kids were given some space to rest and spend much-needed time with their families. Even now, a good deal of your classmates are absent, and you have no doubt they’re still recovering from the traumatic event. The teacher surely understands, and despite the noticeably smaller class size, she does her best to keep the atmosphere lively and upbeat.

“Okay, everyone!” she beams. “For today’s art class, I’m going to split you into pairs and have you paint your partner’s portrait!”

I hope I get paired up with Izuku.

You turn hopefully towards the freckled boy’s desk, and based on the way he keeps shyly glancing your way, you get the feeling that he’s thinking the same thing.

There aren’t a ton of kids in class today, so the odds are actually on your side. Although truthfully, you wouldn’t really mind being paired up with anyone. Well, anyone but—

“[Name], you’re going to be working with Bakugou today.”

Your jaw drops open, and the very next moment, Katsuki’s jaw drops open as well.

“Hell no!” he cries out. “Why do I have to work with that idiot?!”

“Bakugou, stop it,” the teacher chides. “It isn’t nice to speak to your classmates that way. If you keep saying rude things, I’m going to have to put you in time-out.”

Katsuki grits his teeth, clearly mortified beyond words. Nobody likes being put in time-out. It’s humiliating. You know this because it happened to you once when one of the kids fooled you into drawing something inappropriate on the blackboard.

So, regretfully, it doesn’t look like you’ll be getting to work with Izuku for today’s activity. It’s a shame, but you suppose it’s not the end of the world. Besides, you’re used to dealing with Katsuki’s nonsense by now.

Everyone is given a big piece of paper, and a handful of paints. Katsuki lets out a displeased huff as he sits down in front of you and picks up his paintbrush. Since you’ve never actually painted before, and since you need to get a good look at his face to do his portrait properly, you proceed to just stare at him.

“What’s your problem?” he snaps. “Quit staring at me and start painting, moron!”

“But I need to memorize your face,” you insist. “So that I can paint you properly. I want to do a good job. I’m also not really sure what to paint, since your expression keeps changing. But I guess I should probably just make you look angry.”

“Asshole,” Katsuki mutters, but he drops the issue quickly enough and gets to work. He must be trying to get it over with as fast as possible.

Katsuki isn’t normally quiet, but since he’s so focused on his task, you’re graced with a blissful period of silence. The whole classroom is silent, for that matter. All you can hear is the sound of brushes dipping into paint and creating occasional brushstrokes across the paper. You’re not talking either, and in fact, your tongue is poking out of the corner of your mouth as you occasionally glance at Katsuki, as a reference for your painting.

Finally, you set your brush down.

“Okay,” you say. “I think I’m done.”

Katsuki sets his brush down too, then crosses his arms. “So am I. Well, go ahead. Show me what you painted. There’s no way it’ll be better than mine, though.”

You look down at your painting, and honestly? You feel pretty confident about how you did. This was your very first time, after all, but it almost felt as natural as breathing. Perhaps you’re secretly an artist in the making. Oh! Maybe you can be a hero-artist! Assuming there’s even such a thing.

You’re giggling to yourself, off in your own little world, and Katsuki rolls his eyes before reaching out to grab your paper in his hands.

And then, he blinks.

“What the hell… is this shit?!”

He lifts up the paper, and based on how he’s mashing his teeth in a fit of rage, you suppose he doesn’t quite get the appeal. Silly boy. He doesn’t even know true art when it’s staring him right in the face. Or—when it is his face, for that matter.

“It’s you,” you say simply, then you purse your lips. “I thought I made it look pretty accurate. Look, the painting of you is frowning and everything. Just like you are in real life.”

“In what world is this ugly painting supposed to be me?!”

Katsuki appears incredibly offended, although you’re not sure why. He makes ugly faces all the time. You figured that painting was the spitting image of him.

You roll your eyes. “Okay, well let’s see what you painted, since you’re apparently so much better than me. But if it’s worse than mine, I don’t want to hear you whining anymore.”

You reach for his piece of paper, and admittedly, you’re not expecting much. Katsuki likes to brag a lot, after all. He’s probably just being arrogant like usual.

But it turns out that he has good reason to be arrogant.

One look at his painting suddenly makes you feel incredibly self-conscious about the garbage you’d prided yourself on just moments ago.

“This is… me?” you blink. You study the painting carefully, and you can’t help the way your fingers rise to pat your face in disbelief. “Wow, it’s… it’s really good! I look so pretty!”

Katsuki leans back in his chair and scowls. “Obviously. I told you mine would be better. If I’m gonna do something, I make sure to do it properly. Ugh. Still can’t believe I had to get paired up with you, of all people…”

He’s bitching nonstop, as always, but you’re far too preoccupied with the painting to pay him any mind.

It looks really, really nice. Katsuki has a dirty mouth, and he’s rude to the other kids—most notably Izuku—but you have to give credit where it’s due. He’s smart, has a pretty strong Quirk, and seems to be good at pretty much everything.

He isn’t a nice guy, and that’s the main reason why you don’t respect him. But… there are certainly some things that are worthy of admiration.

And this is one of them.

“Hehe,” you grin, unable to tear your eyes off the painting. “I love it. It’s so cute. Katsuki, you did a really good job. I’m sorry for bragging earlier. You’re right that your painting is way better than mine.”

“...huh?”

Katsuki frowns. You really are weird. Most people would hate to be proven wrong, so why is it that you’ve got that stupid smile plastered across your face? Why is it that you don’t feel the slightest bit insecure, even when things don’t go your way?

Why is it that… the longer he stares at your smile, the funnier his chest feels?

“I wanna take this painting home!” you exclaim. “To show Aizawa and Mic. I’m sure they’ll love it too. Hey, do you think the teacher will let me? She will, right? I really hope so.”

Katsuki doesn’t respond. He’s too busy avoiding your gaze, and for some reason, his cheeks are getting ridiculously hot.

You lean across the table slightly. “Hm? Katsuki, your face is really red all of a sudden. Are you sick? If you have a fever, you should probably—”

“Shut up!”

Maybe he really does have a fever, because for a moment there, he actually thought you looked pretty.

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ddawn111 · 7 months ago

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A New (And Improved?) Weapon

ROTTMNT Donatello x Reader

I just love to think that Donnie would go all out when fixing or upgrading things for reader. Total showoff mode.

Also, I’ll admit I might have gotten carried away with the schematics a little, so the chapter is pretty long. I got excited.

The lair buzzed with its usual controlled chaos, but your mind was locked on the new weapon in your hands, a mystic staff you’d claimed after Donatello so graciously (stubbornly) declined it. The concept of wielding such a powerful artifact was exciting, but the reality? Far more complicated.

Surprisingly, the weird looking staff with a small scythe blade on one end and a mace on the other was a shapeshifting weapon. The staff never changes, but different weapons or weapon attachments can materialize off of the ends.

Every time you thought you had a handle on its abilities, it would surprise you with some new twist, like a blade materializing randomly or the entire thing transforming into a flail mid-spin.

You stood in the middle of the lair, staring at the mystic staff in your hands. The smooth, wooden surface pulsed faintly with energy, the ends glowing intermittently as if mocking your lack of control. No matter how much you tried, the thing just wouldn’t cooperate. It felt alive, almost sentient, and you weren’t sure if it wanted to help or hurt you.

“Great,” you muttered, tossing it onto the couch beside you. “I’m going to accidentally vaporize someone at this rate.”

The staff rolled slightly, stopping just before it fell to the floor, and you sighed. You needed help, but the only person who could actually make sense of it was currently holed up in his lab, probably creating something absurdly genius and unnecessarily complicated.

Donatello.

Just the thought of him made your heart do that annoying flutter thing you’d been trying to ignore for years. Ever since you’d met him, his quick wit and confidence had a way of getting under your skin in the best (and most infuriating) way. Not to mention his ridiculous ability to make the simplest things sound like a declaration of brilliance.

You glanced back at the staff, biting your lip. Taking this to Donnie meant subjecting yourself to his relentless sarcasm and that infuriatingly smug smile. But it also meant spending time with him - alone.

For a moment, you debated leaving it be, but the idea of another accidental self-inflicted injury won out. You grabbed the staff and made your way to the lab, rehearsing what you’d say to avoid sounding like a complete idiot.

Frustrated but determined, you made your way to Donnie’s lab.

Donnie’s lab was exactly how you expected it—organized chaos. Tools, gadgets, and half-finished inventions were strewn across the room, glowing softly under the overhead lights. At the center of it all was Donatello, hunched over his workbench, his back to you as he worked on something at his bench. Sparks flying as he welded something you couldn’t identify, the sound sharp but rhythmic. Naturally, he didn’t notice you.

You hesitated for a moment, leaning on the doorway and watching him work. He always looked so… focused. Determined. It was one of the things you admired most about him, even if you’d never admit it out loud.

“Don,” you called, stepping closer. He didn’t respond.

“Donnie.”

Nothing.

“DON. Hey! Donnie boy!” Still nothing.

You sighed and leaned against his desk chair, twirling the staff in your hands. “Donatello!” you tried again, drawing out the name for emphasis. Still nothing. You rolled your eyes, flopping down sideways onto his desk chair with all the grace of a cat on a lazy day. “DonTron!”

Finally, the welding stopped for a beat, but it wasn’t until you called, “Mr. Genius!” with feigned exasperation that he finally turned around.

“I hear someone acknowledging my proper title,” he said smoothly, a small grin tugging at his lips as he lifted his welding mask and rubbed his forehead, finally making eye contact.

You burst out laughing. “Really? That’s the one you respond to? I’ve been calling you for, like, five minutes.”

“But of course, sweet maiden,” he replied with a theatrical bow. “I only respond to the sweet, sweet truth.”

You snorted, shaking your head. You tried not to let your face heat up at the “sweet maiden” comment, instead crossing your arms with a smirk. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously accurate.”

“Sure, sure.” You straightened and held up the staff. “Anyway, I have a formal request.”

“With what, exactly?” he asked, his tone casual but his gaze sharp. He leaned back against his desk, crossing his arms in a way that made him look far too confident.

You resisted the urge to look away and held out the staff. “This thing’s… complicated. I still don’t know what half of it does, and I’d rather not find out the hard way, sooo... Think you can analyze it and share your genius knowledge?”

Donnie’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Oh, so now you’re coming to me for help? And here I thought you were Miss Independent.”

“Don’t push it, DonTron,” you shot back, though the nickname made him grin even wider.

You batted your eyes at him for extra effect, and Donnie sighed, shaking his head with a smirk. He took the staff from you, his fingers brushing yours for the briefest moment. You pretended not to notice the way your stomach flipped at the contact. “Well, since it’s a formal request,” he said, examining the weapon with a critical eye. “I suppose I can spare a moment. For you.”

“Thanks, Don-tron. You’re the best.”

“Obviously,” he said, taking the staff and walking off with it, already muttering calculations under his breath.

You lingered for a moment before leaving, wondering why it was so easy for him to fluster you without even trying.

When you returned to the lab a few days later, it was with equal parts excitement and dread. The lair buzzed as usual, but your mind was elsewhere; on the mystic staff you’d claimed and the guy who was currently tweaking it. It had taken every ounce of courage you had to hand it over to Donatello without fumbling over your words.

You’d been thinking about Donnie’s upgrades ever since you handed over the staff, but mostly, you’d been thinking about him. Every smirk, every comment, every fleeting moment spent in his orbit replayed in your mind with maddening clarity.

You’d been crushing on him for… well, longer than you cared to admit. Of course, it didn’t help that he was infuriatingly brilliant and confident in ways that left you simultaneously exasperated and weak in the knees. Still, you weren’t about to let that show. Not to him, anyway.

And now, here you were again, standing at the entrance to his lab with your heart doing somersaults.

Donnie turned as you approached, holding the staff in one hand like it was a trophy. He looked far too pleased with himself.

“Ah, my esteemed client returns,” he said, his grin widening as you stepped closer. “Prepare to be amazed.”

“Already prepared,” you quipped, crossing your arms to keep from fidgeting. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Mr. Genius.”

“Behold! your newly enhanced mystic weapon,” He handed you the staff with a flourish, and you immediately noticed it felt lighter and sleeker…and…metal? The surface was smooth and silver, with faint etchings that glowed when you touched it. It hummed softly in your hands, almost as if it were waiting for your command.

“Uh, Don, this looks… different.”

“Different?” he repeated, mock offense lacing his tone. “Try better. I’ve optimized it in every way imaginable. Allow me to demonstrate,” Donnie said straightening up.

“What exactly did you do to it?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened whenever he looked at you like that, like he knew something you didn’t.

“Behold!” Donnie gestured dramatically as he launched into a rapid-fire explanation. “The staff now splits down the middle for dual-wielding combat. Blades can eject from the ends for melee attacks in case the mystic properties fail you—which, let’s be honest, they might.

And this!” He reached over, pressing a subtle button near the middle of the staff. With a soft whir, the entire weapon collapsed down to the size of a drumstick. “Collapsible design for maximum portability. You’re welcome.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Okay, that’s… actually pretty awesome.”

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Donnie said, clearly relishing the moment. He pressed the button again, and the staff extended back to full length with a satisfying snap. “The exterior is reinforced with an alloy of my own design, making it nearly indestructible, and the mystic energy is now perfectly stabilized, so no more misfiring while you wield it. But wait - there’s more!”

You couldn’t help but smile as he tapped another button near the base of the staff. Instantly, small engines popped out of the back end, sleek and perfectly integrated into the design.

“Boom! Jet engines”

“Wait, jet engines? Are you serious? They’re so tiny,” you gawked, twirling the staff experimentally. It felt perfectly balanced, the mystic energy now harmonizing with Donnie’s tech.

“Silent jet engines, and yeah I’m awesome, I know,” he corrected, his grin widening, gesturing like a game show host revealing a prize. “They allow for broom-style flight. The controls are balance based, the speed and steering are controlled by your movement, so it’ll take some getting used to.”

“Wait, so you’re saying I can fly with this?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

“Precisely,” he said, nodding as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I noticed you struggle with keeping pace during missions, so this should level the playing field.”

“Gee, thanks for reminding me,” you said dryly, though your heart warmed at the thoughtfulness behind the upgrade.

Donnie chuckled, but there was something softer in his gaze when he replied. “I just wanted to make sure you could keep pace with us,” he said, his voice quieter but no less confident. “Can’t have you falling behind.”

You stared at him, equal parts impressed and suspicious. “And you’re sure this is still mystic? It kind of feels like you rebuilt the whole thing from scratch.”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Never question the tech man. Just enjoy the masterpiece.”

Shaking your head, you gave the staff another experimental twirl. It felt incredible in your hands, sleek, powerful, and undeniably you. The mystic energy now perfectly synchronized with Donnie’s tech. You had to admit - it was pretty awesome. “Fine, I’ll bite. What else did you add?”

Donnie smirked, tapping a finger to your temple. “That, my dear, is for you to discover.”

You tilted the staff in your hands with a smile, testing its weight. It felt perfect, like it was made just for you. “This is amazing, Don. Really. You outdid yourself,” you said in a soft voice.

“Obviously,” he quipped, though there was a faint blush creeping up his neck. He turned away quickly, pretending to fiddle with his tools.

You smiled to yourself, watching as he worked. For all his bravado, there was something undeniably endearing about moments like this, when his confidence wavered just enough to show the person underneath.

“Well,” you said, leaning the staff against your shoulder, “I guess this means I owe you one.”

Donnie glanced over his shoulder, his smirk returning full force. “Oh, you owe me several.”

Before leaving, you couldn’t resist poking around his gadget cabinet, no visit to Donnie’s lab would be complete without poking through his latest inventions. Your eyes landed on a long, sleek metal earring that stretches up from the earlobe and hooks over the helix, the design too intriguing to pass up, and you couldn’t resist trying it on.

“What’s this do?” you asked, holding it up.

Donnie looked up from his work, a frown already forming. “That’s not finished yet.”

You grinned, fixing it onto your ear. “Which means it’s fair game.”

Feeling at the metal, the moment you swiped your finger upwards from the bottom of the earring to the top, pink holographic glasses materialized over your eyes, showing holographic statistics of everything around you. “Whoa.” You waved a hand in front of your face, and the display followed your movements, like an augmented reality interface. “This is so cool.”

“Careful!” Donnie rushed over, his hand brushing yours as he adjusted the earring. “That’s still in beta.” You tilt your head to give him access to your ear and smile.

The brief contact sent a jolt through you, and for a second, neither of you moved. Then Donnie cleared his throat and stepped back, his expression unreadable.

“It’s mine now,” you teased, feeling around until you realized swiping your finger up or down the earring adjusted the transparency of the holograms clouding your vision, which, in tandem, adjusted the transparency of the glasses so your eyes were more visible as you dimmed the holograms. “I’ll take my chances. Don’t worry, I’m just ganna borrow it… indefinitely.”

“Fine,” he muttered. “But if it malfunctions, don’t blame me.”

You also snagged a pair of fingerless gloves that, when activated, transformed into sleek gauntlets. They felt light but sturdy, and you could already imagine how useful they’d be in a fight.

“Those too?” Donnie asked, trying to look irritated, but smiling watching as you flexed your fingers in the gloves.

“Hey, if you didn’t want me to take them, you shouldn’t leave them lying around,” you teased.

He rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. Of course, you’d find out later that all your gadgets included Donnie’s hardware, giving him way too much control when he wanted to mess with you. (Cue the time he reversed your gauntlets mid-battle just to prove a point.)

You twirled your newly enhanced staff and glanced over at Donnie, who was already engrossed in another project. “Thanks, DonTron. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said without looking up, then added with a smirk, “Seriously, don’t mention it. I have a reputation to maintain.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, Mr. Genius.”

As you left the lab, staff in hand, gloves fitted to your hands, and earring firmly in place, you couldn’t help but replay the interaction in your mind. The way he’d smiled, the way his voice softened when he talked about making sure you could keep up, it all felt… different.

Maybe he cared more than he let on. Or maybe you were just imagining things. Either way, you weren’t about to let this crush win. Not yet, anyway.

But as you glanced back, you caught Donnie watching you leave, his expression softening for just a moment before he turned back to his work.

As you filtered out of the lab Donnie chuckled to himself thinking of how you didn’t realize your “stolen tech” was a perfect fit.

Thanks for reading! I'm so happy to finally post my first fic. Sorry for any typos.

I was thinking about expanding on this with a oneshot series, let me know your thoughts.

Feel free to request.

Page divider credit: bunnysrph

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sewerpalette · 1 year ago

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Little rant I might make a video out of:

Edit: disclaimer I wrote this directly after waking up so it’s very awkwardly paced and hard to read I’m so sorry.

AL-AN is not a good person, now I’ll start this off with saying that I looove his character, especially before the rewrite and this certainly isn’t an attack on anyone, just something I’d like to point out because I think the shift of perspective between both games is fascinating.

If anyone remembers the subnautica fandom before Below zero was even remotely announced, there were certain opinions flying around, people believed the architects to be the grand villain(s) in the bigger picture of the game lore for just how messed up they were, they literally hated those guys for being at fault of the sea emperors suffering and there were even theories going around that they made the kharaa to wipe out all other life around them- but it had went wrong.

But now it’s not like that anymore, no AL‘s previous actions are completely ignored because he showed some remorse for being responsible for the deaths of 7 architects specifically, together with messing up before pretty much an audience of billions, it must’ve been embarrassing- but when he apologizes he specifically only mentions the other architects, because he isn’t sorry for the other things he’s done, clearly. I mean dissecting a fetus is one thing, especially with their goal in mind, DISPLAYING it is another, like that’s just purposely gruesome. Together with all the other dissected experimented on animals in the shelves just hung up like prizes (I know the concept itself is not inhumane, but in this case it just wasn’t necessary.) also research specimen THETA anyone? Yeah we know it didn’t die because of the facility collapsing because there’s no injury displayed on its bones that would suggest that, and that part of the facilities insides also didn’t collapse, they just left it there until it either succumbed to the virus or starved to death, same with the sea emperor but they survived, kept alive by unfinished business for the next couple thousand years. Not to mention who the fuck comes up with a quarantine program that includes semi sentient killer machines and a giant gun made to shoot anything down from atmosphere, there were so many better solutions, I get the warper thing, I mean kill anything that’s infected makes sense, but the gun?? Literally why, if they send a signal through the network that this planet is diseased nobody is going to go there (we know that at that point humans weren’t advanced enough to travel space and they knew that so for who was that even for??) it was completely unnecessary to create a giant weapon in wich even more destructive weapons are stored wich let me get into that real quick because there’s also some implied stuff there, appearently AL was so desperate to get rid of his mistake that he attempted to blow up a doomsday device?? (Which would’ve destroyed most of the solar system in an instant.) In the entry it says it malfunctioned so they must’ve tried to use it, and even if they didn’t why would they have it on them anyways? Including all the other weapons. Also let’s talk about the architects in the little sanctuaries in the first game, it’s implied they stored multiple souls in like one of them, literally cramped up all their data whilst AL stored himself in a big ass sanctuary like idk man that’s kind of an asshole move. And those were just the first game events! (And there’s probably even more there.)

In BZ he can’t really do anything except for talk to robin because he doesn’t have a physical form, so there’s less to go off here but even then it didn’t seem like there were other sanctuaries in BZ for the other architects. and sure, you could make the arguement that architects don’t feel at all connected to their physical forms, wich is true, but don’t you think seeing a dead architects body, an architect from his team, a colleague, would illicit some kind of emotion from him beyond “great, now fetch me their skin.” (/j) even if he doesn’t see the attachment to the vessel, if it’s all that’s left from that time and from the crew, there would still be projected attachment onto it realistically. Also he was smart enough to hide himself from alterra because he guessed they didn’t have good intentions- scraping himself off the grid both physically and on any radars they had (presumably with hallucinations), but wasn’t smart enough to distract the critters running around infront of the sanctuary to idk get the help he needed with the failing sanctuary from the mercury, marg, or the alterrans that genuinely wanted to help instead of being eaten by sharks right infront of it.

Like man I love you but that’s just messed up.

And we know he knows he messed up, that’s why he’s so gloomy and does attempt to apologize at the end but like??? He said he wanted to make amends to his people showing that he still doesn’t care about everybody else he hurt, only those he deems as important, not the over 150 people that died on the aurora or the mercury or the degasi or the sunbeam or the research specimens or even the alterrans he’s indirectly caused death to, it is all his fault but he doesn’t see these people as important because he feels they are below him - sure you could make the arguement that he didn’t know about the ships that crashed, fair point. But seemingly he did if he could sense that alterra was there without even seeing alterrans in the first place, especially because Ryley has made contact with the thermal plant and other architect tech before, so he’d definitely know- especially based on the data robin has of the missing sunbeam and aurora incident on her PDA wich he has canonically said he read through.

And I’ll say it again I love AL, next to Bart he’s probably my favorite subnautica character in the whole game series, but I don’t like the portrayel of him suddenly being completely redeemed or being an inherently good person, he still doesn’t understand empathy or morals (you can be a good person without having those, don’t get me wrong.) and acts like a total idiot whilst victimizing himself, like yes, the other architects on the mission died and it’s his fault, they weren’t stored to keep him company and that’s his fault; neither did they like him, wich is very fair in my opinion. He can’t pull all this crap, disobey orders and get everybody killed and then pull the “but I’m sad about it so that erases everything I’ve done” like oh my god. I like him, but I would also like more content showing all this.

Sorry this was a very long kinda pointless rant and I don’t have any images because my phone which has like a whole folder of these is at home and we’re still stuck in England so it’ll have to do without for now.

TLDR: I want more morally dubious AL please and also he killed a fetus (well pretty much borderline newborn at that point) so he’s going into the fictional child murderer category for me.

#long rant #rant post #al an subnautica #subnautica #al an #al-an #video game fandom #subnautica below zero #sbz #video games #video game rant

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theimfarchives · 3 months ago

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As We Get Closer To Mission: Impossible The Final Reckoning, There Are Some Big Questions We Need Answered

What Exactly Is The Rabbit's Foot?

When the first Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning teaser dropped back in November 2024, I was blown away by the massive callbacks to earlier entries, especially the “Rabbit’s Foot.” This mysterious weapon of mass destruction introduced as the MacGuffin in Mission: Impossible III nearly 20 years ago hasn’t been featured or discussed in the franchise since Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) defeated Owen Davian (Philip Seymour Hoffman) way back in 2006, and I honestly forgot about it.

But the re-emergence of the device all these years later has me wondering, what exactly is the Rabbit’s Foot? I know it’s a device that could bring an end to humanity as we know it and that it’s highly sought after (presumably by the Entity this time around), but what is it besides some mysterious biological weapon? The third movie never really did a good job of explaining things, and I hope we’re not left out in the cold once again.

Is Eugene Kittridge A Villain, Hero, Or Something In Between?

After being away from the franchise for 25-plus years, Eugene Kittridge (Henry Czerny) returned in Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning, only this time he was the CIA director after moving on as IMF chief during his five-movie absence. And while I’m glad to have both the character and Czerny (his work in Clear and Present Danger is still the stuff of legend), I’m wondering if he’ll be a villain, a hero, or something in between and more than just a perennial thorn in Ethan Hunt’s side.

In his first two appearances in the franchise so far, Kittridge has been a little bit of both an ally and a nemesis of Hunt and his IMF team, which has created a fun and engaging dynamic along the way. I wouldn’t be mad if The Final Reckoning leaves this ambiguous, but some closure would be nice by the time the credits roll, especially if this ends up being the final movie in the series.

How Did The Entity Go Rogue?

A hyperintelligent sentient artificial intelligence has been at the center of some of the best sci-fi movies over the years, and in Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning, Ethan Hunt’s IMF team saw one of the most dangerous AIs yet with the “Entity.” Based on what I’ve seen from the latest The Final Reckoning trailer, it looks like the evil and mysterious AI is once again going to be a major part of the movie.

If that’s so, I hope the movie dives into how the Entity went rogue in the first place. It was revealed in Dead Reckoning that it was created by the United States government as a military tool, but at some point, it went into business for itself and set off the events of the movie (and the upcoming sequel). I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if the new Mission: Impossible movie opens with the entity’s backstory.

Why Was Gabriel Chosen By The Entity To Carry Out Its Mission?

While it’s made clear in Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning that the Entity selected Gabriel (Esai Morales) to be its messenger and carry out its goal of recovering its keys, it’s never really made all that clear as to why he was selected outside of his history with Ethan Hunt. But with Hunt having that history (good, bad, and very bad), the AI could have chosen anyone willing and able to act as its assistant and make sure the mission was successful. That said, I think there has to be something more there.

I need Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning to answer these questions: Why exactly was Gabriel selected? Was it his connection to Hunt, was it his name, is Gabriel even his name? If handled properly, I think Morales’ character could end up being one of the franchise’s best villains.

What Is The Full History Between Ethan Hunt And Gabriel?

In the past, Ethan Hunt has been haunted by ghosts from his past, and it is no different for Gabriel. Long before the two had a killer knife fight during the Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning ending, it was revealed that Gabriel killed Ethan’s lover before Hunt started working with IMF. This leads me to believe that their connection – they are mortal enemies after all – didn’t just start with that tragic killing, but instead earlier before that.

Some big questions I have as I prepare myself for The Final Reckoning are about their shared history. How far does it go? Were they once friends before becoming adversaries? Why are they so similar yet so different? Hopefully, these are all answered by the time the credits roll.

Is This Really Going To Be The Final Mission: Impossible Movie?

Depending on who’s being asked and when the conversation is going down, Mission: Impossible – The Final Reckoning is or isn’t the last movie in the franchise. I was in the “this series isn’t ending” camp until I saw the most recent trailer with its “one last run” vibes running all through its two-minute runtime. Couple that with talk of an extended standing ovation when the movie premieres at Cannes in May 2025, and I’m thinking that Paramount is actually going to end this franchise after all these years.

But still, is this actually the END, and if so, how is it going to end? Will Ethan Hunt get to retire on a beach somewhere, or will he suffer the same fate as Daniel Craig’s James Bond in No Time to Die? I’m honestly torn because I love these movies but also don’t want them going on and on for years and decades to come.

I guess I'll find out if these questions get answered when Mission: Impossible - The Final Reckoning opens on May 23rd. Until then, I'll just have to wait...

Source

#ethan hunt #tom cruise #mission impossible #esai morales #gabriel #mission impossible the final reckoning #eugene kittridge #henry czerny

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ask-a-broken-boombox · 1 year ago

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(It seems to try agian to sit up into a sitting position while it waits for its sudden new companion to contact more gears that are in the same situation as them. It gives another hiss of pain but it dosnt let that drag it back down agian, it’s… weird that now it can feel pain. Glowing lime blood was already soaking though the outfit, it also has a few scars here and there mimicking the scratches in its gear form)

(The eyes on its visor look over to the laser gun, it seems… pristine compared to the boombox. It dosnt seem out of the ordinary for it however, Hyperlaser always takes great care of his gun)

#Being on my own c-can’t be too bad.. [POST]#I’m.. not the only one?.. [SENTIENT WEAPONS]#Hyper’s Hyperlaser (Max)

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margoteve · 4 months ago

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Polichinelle's Secret - Bonus Secret

Summary: A Bonus scene not connected with the main story flow + Deleted Scenes

A/N: Migraine's been kicking me arse on top of work and other stuff. So while I still wrestle with Part 5 enjoy these - The Bonus scene I wanted to include in part 5 but it might as well be here on its own. Deleted Scenes were originally in part 4 but due to reworking it were removed.

Read on AO3

Tag list: @sonicasura@kafkahibinomybeloved@mechazushi@j4yslayz@ashiraismyname@kaijuice-z@iceclew

Bonus Scene 2

“Hey Shinomiya, so- number weapons are a thing,” Furuhashi thought out loud one time after training.

“Yes,” Kikoru answered from across the table. “Where are you going with this?”

“If Kafka dies… who do you think will have him as a number weapon?”

At that Kafka sputtered and wheezed coughing up his food. “Hey, now, wait a second-! I’m not planning on dying any time soon!”

“That’s actually a good question,” Aoi chimed in.

“Seriously?!” Kafka’s jaw dropped in disbelief.

“If you think about it- you are the most powerful kaiju in history, if you’re damaged beyond the ability to regenerate or die wouldn’t it be a waste for you as well?” Aoi expressed his thoughts. “As a weapon you could still fight.”

“Well, you have a point but it’s still kinda creepy to think about it,” Kafka said begrudgingly.

“If they offer you to me, I refuse,” Kikoru said. “I don’t need you saving me from beyond the grave.”

“Wow, now that’s cold, Kikoru,” Kafka winced.

“There haven't been any weapons made from sentient kaiju before either,” Haruichi added. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to even communicate with the wielder.

“Ew, even more reason not to.” Kikoru shuddered and decided to leave.

“So this narrows it down to Captain, Vice Captain or Reno,” Iharu said.

“What? Why me and not you?” Reno blinked, suddenly brought into a conversation he was trying to stay out of.

“It’s super annoying but I’m kinda stuck at 25% release force, there’s no way they’d offer me a number weapon of any kind,” Iharu grimaced drumming his fingers over the table. “And you and the Old Timer get along great.”

“Again - I’m not that old!” Kafka huffed. “And I’m not planning on dying any time soon!”

He got up from the table and walked away. The boys watched him leave for a moment and walk past Minase, who approached the table.

“Hey guys! Officer Okonogi made a new Uquiz!” She showed them her phone. “‘What kind of kaiju could you be if you were the one to eat a kaiju larva’, I got a bird type!”

“Oh sick,” Iharu immediately fished out his phone. “Send me a link - I hope I get one of those shark-types.”

"Deleted Scenes"

“Dude, eating a kaiju is so metal… Do you think there's more of these larvae?” Iharu wondered out loud.

“You better not be thinking what I think you are thinking,” Reno glared at Furuhashi.

“What! You never thought how it would be getting all this awesome kaiju power?” Iharu flexed up a little.

“You would have wasted it on meaningless showboating anyway,” Kikoru scoffed.

“If Shinomiya was a kaiju we all would have been dead by now,” Haruichi joked.

“What is that supposed to mean!?”

They only waited for Kafka, who had to stay behind for a moment to do his pushups.

Hoshina counted for Kafka’s pushups. It was not going well.

“That definitely was 200, Vice-Captain!”

They all turned to see what the commotion was now about.

“That was 75~,” Hoshina said.

“Oh, come on now you are just counting down…” Kafka whined from the floor.

“68,” Hoshina grinned.

“Hoshina, I would like to finish some work if you could vacate my office,” Mina spoke out from her spot at her desk.

Soshiro sighed. His revenge on Kafka would need to come later.

“Alright troops! March out!” He ordered.

Everyone saluted and started to walk out.

#kafka hibino #iharu furuhashi #kikoru shinomiya #aoi kaguragi #soshiro hoshina #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #eve writes stuff #haruichi izumo #minase akari

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se-sissy-lina04 · 10 days ago

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Sissy’s Masterlist

Zee’s Balcony Diaries: Vol. IV

“The Boredom Chronicles”

—Or: What Happens When You Retire an Army and Give Them Too Much Free Time

[Entry 017: Clone Parkour Hour]

Time: 1100 hours

Duration: Allegedly five minutes. Realistically? Ongoing.

Rex told them not to, which means Fives immediately did it.

The 501st is now “urban training” across balconies, led by Fives and Echo, who just jumped a two-meter gap in flip-flops. Jesse wiped out into a drying rack full of civilian underwear.

Kix is shouting, “You’re not troopers, you’re trespassers!”

Wrecker tries to join but breaks a railing. “It’s fine! I landed soft!” … poor Thire. I’m sure I heard his ribs crack.

Fox threatens to cite them all for “reckless roof activity.” They boo him. He considers crying.

[Entry 018: The Great Elevator Tournament]

Time: Unknown. They unplugged the building clocks.

The Coruscant Guard invented an elevator dueling game called “Button Siege.”

Rules:

Only two clones at a time.

You press a floor and try to block your opponent’s floor request first.

Yelling “I CLAIM THIS FLOOR IN THE NAME OF THE GUARD” is mandatory.

They’ve been playing for 9 hours. Thorn now sleeps in the elevator and won’t let me ride it unless I “fight for the right.”

I took the stairs. Too many floors up. In heels.

“If I die, it’s going in your report.”

[Entry 019: The Day of the Shopping Cart]

Time: Afternoon

Location: Parking garage

Status: Concerning

They found a stray shopping cart. Just one.

Within an hour it had become:

A chariot

A weapon

A race vehicle

A throne

Cody sat in it once and got hailed as King of the Garage (I didn’t even know we had a garage). Boil and Waxer pulled him around chanting “LONG LIVE THE WHEELBOX.”

I asked where they got it.

No one knows. Tech is trying to trace its origin like a sacred relic.

Fox tried to confiscate it. They formed a ring of shields around it like it was the youngling from Mandalore.

[Entry 020: Clone Theater Night]

Time: 1930 hours

Genre: “Drama”

Rex tried to start a book club. It somehow became a dramatic reading circle of bad romance novels.

Yes. That kind.

Fives reads all the steamy bits with full eye contact.

Kix brings props.

Jesse uses his serious war voice.

I walked in once to borrow a spice jar and heard Cody say:

“Her lips tasted of danger and… Corellian brandy.”

I left the jar and backed away.

[Entry 021: Hobby Roulette]

Time: Ongoing

Mood: Unhinged

Bored clones = experimental clones.

Currently observed hobbies include:

212th: Urban gardening (Boil tried to grow tomatoes. Grew a sentient vine by mistake.)

104th: Competitive knitting. Do not mock them.

501st: Slam poetry (Fives again. Of course.)

Coruscant Guard: Tactical puzzles. Thorn is banned from Sudoku for “intimidating the numbers.” (No idea how you do that. Might ask later)

Wolffe: Woodworking. He built a chair. Then stared at it for three hours. No one knows why.

I tried to introduce them to yoga.

They interpreted it as a combat stance drill.

Fox dislocated something trying “downward-facing dog.” (He is old… don’t tell him I said that. I want to live.)

[Entry 022: Tech Made a Quiz App]

Time: 0100 hours

Why are they awake? No one knows.

Tech made a “personality sorter” quiz for fun. It spread through the building like a virus.

I took it. Result: “Mysterious Enigma with Passive-Aggressive Tendencies.” Not inaccurate. I’ll let it slide… for now.

Fives got “Charming Menace.” Echo got “Mom Friend Who Denies It.”

Wrecker got “Golden Retriever with Explosive Potential.” Hardcase did too. They are now best buddies. (They made my trash bin explode among other things. Fox can’t keep up with writing them tickets)

Crosshair refuses to participate. Claims he already knows who he is.

I wrote in the margin: “Edgy Quiz Nihilist.”

#clone trooper x reader #star wars: the clone wars #star wars au #104th battalion #212th attack battalion #501st battalion #captain rex #commander cody #commander fox #commander wolffe #clones are little boys with ADHD when bored

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clonegirl99 · 27 days ago

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Wolffe & Tooka

My Null gave me the prompt: “so there I was, knee deep in brass with a sore elbow.”

This was definitely not what he was expecting but pretty sure he’s not complaining.

Smut. It’s smut. With my favorite grumpy commander.

“So, there I was - knee-deep in spent tibanna canisters with a sore elbow, SBDs bearing down on me from all sides. No anti-armor weapons or even a basic thermal det. I’m down to just half an energy clip and my wits…”

“So, just half an energy clip?”

The older trooper sitting on the other side of the man in plain, shiny white armor choked and looked away, clearly amused by your withering remark.

“Have you ever even heard a shot fired in anger, kid?”

The rookie is turning redder and redder by the second, shrinking into his unscathed armor.

“Look, I’m sure you’re great in the combat sims. Come back in six months, after you’ve actually caught a body and lost a brother. Maybe you can impress me with a story then.”

He slinks away like a kicked dog.

“… Still not going to be impressed,” you mutter under your breath with a roll of your eyes that warns of a coming headache. You should really just go home for the night. You’ve been awake far too long and it was becoming clear that the sentient source you were supposed to meet wasn’t going to show.

Typical.

Every lead your editor had given you has turned out this way. It was a stupid story anyway. Who cares if Senators are shacking up? There’s a war on and you were more interested in the recent debate on clone rights and chatter among Coruscant’s political elites about a potential pension system for GAR soldiers. Your editor has dismissed your proposal of an in-depth examination of clones’ attitudes toward the policy proposal, saying no one cares what “meat droids” think.

The racist scughole needed to retire before you got fed up and put him out to pasture yourself.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you stand and try to flag down the bartender for your check, though she seems rather distracted by a Corrie Guard man.

“Drink’s on me.”

You turn to face the source of the unexpected voice - the trooper who had found your dressing down of his clone brother so amusing. He turns to face you and your annoyance fades. A long scar and cybernetic eye tells half a story that the haunted, hardened look behind his other eye completes.

“Least I can do for the entertainment,” he adds with a smirk that only slightly softens his face.

You’re debating another biting remark when he continues. “Name’s Wolffe.”

“Explains the paint job,” you respond, indicating the gray and white emblem on his shoulder bell.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

You snort a laugh at his sardonic remark, which seems to please him.

“That’s why they called me ‘Sniper’ in university.”

“Sniper? Really?” He clearly doesn’t believe you.

“No. But why let the truth get in the way of a good story?”

He nods, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “So what did they call you in university then?”

“Just my name.”

“Which is?”

You almost don’t tell him but something about him piques your curiosity enough to want to extend this brief exchange into an actual conversation, so you relent.

He nods. “Why are you drinking alone on a week night, y/n?”

“Could ask the same of you,” you toss back.

The corner of his mouth turns up again before he turns to gaze at something you suspect he doesn’t want to see but can’t escape.

“Ghosts?” you venture.

“Pardon?” He snaps back to the present moment.

“Ghosts. You’re drinking with ghosts?”

He looks you over with the sharp eyes of a seasoned strategist before deciding whether to answer.

“You could say that,” he finally says, his voice lower.

You sit in the stool vacated by Private Pick-Up Line, your back leaning against the bar. “I know the feeling,” you offer.

“Yeah?” It drips with bitterness.

“Yeah,” you say, fighting the defensive snark reaction you’ve relied on for decades. “Lost my whole family in a bombing attack when I was a kid. Half the neighborhood. The school. So, yeah. I’m used to drinking with ghosts.”

He clears his throat. “Erm. Sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be. You didn’t do it. Unless you did, in which case I’m going to take out your good eye after I cut off your balls.”

He lets out a brief, surprised laugh.

“Judging by that scar and the scuffs on your armor, you’ve lost plenty yourself, so let’s call it even. After you buy me another drink.”

He smirks and looks at you with appreciation. “I’m usually the one giving orders.”

“I would hope you’re off duty if you’re in here, Captain.”

“Actually, it’s Commander.”

“Well, pardon me, sir.” You give him a playful exaggerated bow. “I’m still not a soldier, so I’m just going to call you Wolfy,” you tease.

He huffs what you think might be a laugh and looks away for a second before flagging down the bartender, who responds remarkably quickly for someone who had managed to so studiously avoid you earlier.

“Another one, Commander?” she simpered.

“And whatever my lovely companion here would like.”

She looks at you blankly and rolls her eyes when you order mineral water.

He looks at you with an eyebrow raised. “They don’t pay us much, but I can afford an actual drink, you know.”

You snort another laugh. “From what I hear, it took an actual hostage situation to get you boys anything at all.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that report, ma’am.” His eyes sparkle when he looks at you again. “If I remember correctly, there’s a reporter by the same name who’s been writing about clone rights…”

“Never heard of her,” you say with a wink.

He picks up the glass of amber liquor the bartender has placed in front of him and raises it toward you. “I’ll still toast to her health.”

You touch the rim of your glass to his. “To the men of the GAR.”

He takes a deep swig and offers you what may be the closest thing to a smile his face can manage. “Never answered my question.”

“My name? Yes I did. Did you miss that part of the conversation? Thought we were actually talking about it just now.”

He gives you a deeply unamused look.

You play dumb until he relents with a twinkle in his eye.

“Why is an attractive investigative journalist known for advocating for clone rights drinking alone on a week night?”

You give him a playful nudge. “Well, as you can see, I’m not really drinking. I was supposed to be meeting a Senate aide about some scandalous rumors.”

He raises his eyebrow at you again, silently inviting you to go on.

“My editor is trying to bury me in braindead tabloid assignments so I can’t stir the pot too much. Source didn’t show, then that kid tried to chat me up with his cheap lines. Night seems to be looking up, though.” You give his shoulder another nudge and he smirks.

Wolffe takes another swallow of his drink then looks into his glass like he’s contemplating the secrets of the galaxy for a brief moment before taking a deep breath.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?”

The question catches you off guard but you find yourself standing and grabbing your bag before you even fully process what’s happening.

He smirks and tosses some cred chips on the bar before placing a confident hand firmly at the small of your back and ushering you authoritatively out of the bar. Once in the street, he tucks your hand into the crook of his arm and covers it with his other hand like he’s escorting you.

It’s unexpected yet comforting.

“Where are we going, Wolfy?”

You think you hear a quiet growl.

“Your place.”

You laugh softly and look up at him, biting your lip.

“My place, hm?”

“I’m not doing this in an alley.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” you laugh. “I might be a cheap date, but not that cheap.”

Your quip earns you another smirk from the commander.

“Something tells me you’re not cheap at all, little tooka.”

“You would be correct, Commander. I normally require much more before I take a man back to my place.”

“Something you do often?”

“No, actually.”

“So what makes me special?”

“Don’t know, but…” You grin. “Something about you, Wolfy.”

“I’m flattered.” It almost sounds sarcastic; he seems to catch it too late and winces. “I am.”

“Shall we go then?”

“Lead the way, little tooka.”

You move quickly and quietly through the streets, avoiding eye contact with anyone you pass, especially the other troopers outside the bar. He’s eager to get to privacy where he doesn’t have to worry about subordinates or gawping civilians.

As soon as your apartment door slides shut behind you, he has you pinned to the wall with an aggressive kiss. He growls and bites your lower lip hard enough that it approaches the line between erotic pain and the real thing.

He pauses at your intake of breath, raising a hand to cup your chin so he could look you over. “Too much?”

“N-no,” you stammer before recovering. “Unexpected but I don’t know what I expected from a man named Wolffe.”

He rolls his eyes and you grab his utility belt to pull him closer.

He responds to the provocation with another passionate kiss. The intensity of this handsome man overwhelms you in a way that makes you want to surrender to anything he wants to do to you.

“You complaining?”

“Kark, no.”

With that, he pulls you away from the wall, whipping you around so fast that you squeal and wrap your arms around his neck. It makes him smirk again.

“That the kind of sound you’re going to be making for me all night?” he growls.

“Maybe,” you respond in a breathy voice. “I think the real question is, can you make me make those sounds all night?”

“Oh, little tooka, that pretty mouth of yours is going to get you in a lot of trouble.”

You nip his bottom lip. “That a threat, Wolfy?”

He growls, louder this time, and drops to the floor, pulling you with him so that you lie under him with one of his thick, armored thighs between your legs. A targeted roll of his hips presses the plate against your heated mound and you can’t help the high-pitched sigh that escapes between your lips.

You’re caged in by his powerful arms, his considerable weight looming over you. You are prey trapped in a corner by a ruthless predator, waiting with excitement to feel his bite sinking into your trembling flesh.

He lowers himself so that his lips just graze yours. “Oh, little tooka, I don’t make threats. I already gave you your only warning, pretty girl.”

“Yeah? And now what?” You can feel your quickening pulse thrumming against the leg unrelentingly pressing against your clit. It takes all your resolve to not grind down and chase the sensation to climax.

He shook his head before dipping down to bite your earlobe with another carnal growl. “Now,” he whispers in your ear. “Now, little tooka, the consequences for that smart mouth are coming due.”

He latches onto your neck with his teeth and puts his dexterous hands to work, taking you apart with the confidence of a master strategist. No centimeter of newly-bared flesh is left untouched by his rough hands and eager mouth. By the time he has you down to just your panties - still fully clothed and armored himself - there is a sizable and visible wet spot soaking the fabric covering your core.

He smirks with satisfaction as he rises to his knees between your legs and studies the quivering, bruised, achingly aroused woman laid out before him who is doing her best to not beg him for more.

He watches you squirm and writhe as he slowly removes his armor, stacking the plates neatly on the floor next to you. He takes his time, occasionally brushing the back of knuckles over your clothed sex, deliberately winding you up, appreciating the way you react and then pout when he stops.

“What’s wrong, little tooka?” he taunts as he places the last of his leg plates aside, codpiece still firmly in place. You know it must be uncomfortable judging from the darkness in his eyes and his quickened breath.

You giggle, cut short by an excited gasp when he cages you in again, filling your senses with him.

“Wolf’s got my tongue,” you recover.

He takes it as an invitation and kisses you savagely, pressing you hard into the cold tile of the floor. The fabric of his black undersuit lets through the delicious heat of his body, making you melt faster.

Suddenly there’s a hand between your bodies and down the front of your panties. You let out a ragged moan when one finger glides through your pooling slick, earning a menacing chuckle from him. It’s gone just as soon as it was there and you find yourself pouting before you watch him suck your lust off the digit and close his eyes like he’s trying to focus entirely on how you taste on his skin.

And then he’s back on his feet, releasing the fastenings of his codpiece.

“On your knees,” he snarls.

You obey instantly, your usual bratty urges nowhere to be found.

“Look at my good little tooka, leaping to obey. Do you want a treat for being such a good girl, little tooka?”

You hum affirmatively and watch with hungry eyes as he pulls his cock out through the fly of his undersuit.

You’ve spent untold hours socializing with clones, had flirted with plenty, and had even enjoyed a couple of sloppy make out sessions with a charming ARC trooper, but this is the first time you’d seen what those shiny white codpieces are protecting.

No wonder some of them were so damn arrogant.

“Oh, you do want a treat, don’t you, my hungry little tooka?”

He strokes himself a couple of times, bringing his already impressive girth to full attention, before grabbing a fistful of your hair and tipping your head back.

Velvety skin and the slight salty tang of his arousal make your mouth fall open. You fully expect him to fuck your face and throat until you gag and choke, but he doesn’t. He seems to enjoy using your mouth to tease himself instead. Some of the tension seems to leave his jaw as he stares down at you with an expression of awe and… gratitude?

You decide to give him a show, bobbing on his cock and gazing up at him through lowered lashes while your tongue swirls over and around the blunted head. He responds with shaking breaths and a tighter grip on your hair. For all his (absurdly hot) aggression and dominance, he seems to have happily given himself over to you.

“Kriff, pretty girl…” he sighs, head falling back in surrender to luxurious pleasure.

You tug at the tight black bodysuit, trying to get access to feel the warmth of his skin against yours, bringing him back to the present.

He pulls out of your mouth with a wet pop and a grunt before letting go of your hair, taking a few steadying breaths, and offering you a hand.

“Bed or couch?”

“In a hurry, Wolfy?”

“Yes,” he answers with surprising candor then yanks you to your feet and presses you hard against him, stealing your breath with a rough kiss. “I need to make you scream. Bed or couch?”

“Bed. More options.”

He scoffs and hurries you in the direction of the open bedroom door.

You bend over sharply, teasing him with a bit of a show as slide your damp panties to the floor. But then you hear a growl and find yourself on your back, staring at Wolffe, already stripped of the bodysuit.

“I need to see that pretty face while I ruin you, little tooka.”

Your smartass remark doesn’t even make it to your lips before you cry out in surprise as he fully sheathes himself in you with a single, smooth, powerful thrust. You pant and try to assess if it hurt but you’re so wet with anticipation of this exact moment that all you feel is the molten pleasure of being stretched and filled by this man who can’t take his warm, brown eyes off of you.

“Fierfek…” He tests a few long, slow strokes. “Don’t think…” His breath shudders as he snaps his hips against yours in an increasingly manic rhythm. “Don’t think I… kriff… ever… ah, Kriff…”

His eyes are screwed shut tight now, which you barely register as every nerve in your body lights up with the tension that is growing tighter and tighter in your belly and core.

“Never… before… I’m… kark, y/n, I’m not gonna last… You… feel so…”

The admission… the harsh grip of his big hands digging into the soft flesh of your hips… the deep, pounding thrusts that force the breath out of you and make your breasts bounce… the obscene wet sounds of your cunt being plundered by his massive cock… his ragged breaths…

You cry out, squealing and sobbing, as your entire body explodes like sparked rhydonium.

“Kark,” you barely hear him growl. “Can I… inside…?”

“Yes! Yes! Kriff, yes, Wolffe!”

He throws his head back with a roar and you feel him spill inside you as your body begins to come down. His release seems to go on and on as he shudders and grunts, finally slowing to a halt, still seemingly rock hard inside you.

He collapses forward, catching himself on his forearm just in time to avoid crushing you and kiss your sore lips tenderly. His face is softened of its earlier severity.

“Pretty little tooka…” He kisses you again, giving a soft moan rather than growling now, and rolls over onto his back.

A whimpering gasp escapes you when he leaves you empty, the hot rush of your mutual ecstasy spilling onto the bed.

“Kriff - did I hurt you?” He sat up quickly, eyes scanning your face.

“Not at all.” You hum a laugh and let your head lull to the side to rest against his arm. “Didn’t like you pulling out so fast.”

A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest and he gives you what you can only describe as a wolfish grin. “Don’t worry, my pretty little tooka. If you let me sleep here, we’ll do that a few more times before I have to go back to base.”

“Mmm… if I let you.”

He scoffs with a chuckle, so much more relaxed now than when you’d first met. He shifts to pull you into an almost-cuddle, your head on his shoulder.

“What if I say, ‘pretty please,’ my pretty little tooka?” he mumbles in your ear before giving you a playful growl and nipping your earlobe.

“Maybe if you beg…”

“I just might…”

“Hmm… we’ll see.”

“Promise I’ll make it worth your while, pretty girl.” He presses an unexpected kiss to the top of your head. “After a little sleep…”

#star wars clones #the clone wars #clone wars fanfiction #clone wars #star wars smut #cc 3636 #clone commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #wolffe x reader #wolffe x oc #clone trooper x reader

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year ago

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Is there a TTRPG that allows for the “Youths Having Fun Being Fantastic” “genre” of works like Persona 5 and Codename: Kids Next Door combined with the aesthetic of Digimon: Cyber Sleuth and early Bakugan? I’m sorry if I sent this one before, I forgor :(

THEME: Fun, Fantastic Youths.

Hello there, so I had to do a little bit of research to see what kind of tied these pieces of media together. What I looked for was games about kids with something special about them, a lighthearted tone, and an anime art style. I tried to focus on games that were set in the modern day, but not everything in this list matches that qualification.

Shepherds, by AirkSeablade.

Shepherds is a tabletop RPG about young members of a League of professional do-gooders, who strive to protect the peace and safety of ordinary people. These young Shepherds will forge bonds of trust with each other, grow and mature as people, and possibly foil some evil plots along the way.

Shepherds puts us into a fantasy history where technology is starting to change the world around you. Your characters are young members of a special organization, with special training or abilities to help them protect the people around them. The author describes the genre as “hopeful fantasy”, inspired by the “Tales of _” video games and the Trails/Kiseki video game line.

System-wise, the game is Powered by the Apocalypse, which means that you only need 2d6 to play, and your characters will draw from a series of Moves in order to find out what happens next, with various categories for action scenes, relationship-building, moving through various in-game processes, and using magic.

The Magical Land of Yeld, by Yeldstuff.

Somewhere there is a door to a magical land. A land of secrets and treasure. Of exploration and adventure. Where children can become heroes, discover their inner strength and stand against monsters and magic. And once you enter, the only thing you have to fear is that you can never go home!

The Magical Land of Yeld is a multi-session tabletop roleplaying game focusing on adventure, hero building and shared storytelling. Like the classic console games we love, adventures in Yeld are designed to allow you to explore colorful and strange lands, seek out secret dungeons and temples and challenge powerful boss monsters as your characters grow to unlock new skills and discover more powerful weapons and treasure.

The main features of The Magical Land of Yeld that I think connect to your request is the fact that you are playing children, and that your children have magical abilities. However, the setting is decidedly fantastic, rather than taking place in the modern day - although if you like the secret worlds of Persona, you might find the isekai themes in this game to be adjacent to what you’re looking for. Similar to Kids Next Door, there’s always a threat of no longer being a child - although instead of turning into an adult, you’re in danger of turning into a monster. If you want a game with cartoon-ish threats but high stakes, you might like The Magical Land of Yeld.

Oddity High, by Derek Ehlmann.

You're a high school student that's probably nowhere close to being ordinary. Whether you’re dealing with aliens, psychics, ghosts, demons, eldritch gods or sentient cats is up to you - but whatever it is, you’re in the thick of it. Fortunately, by happenstance or by design, you’ve got a gang of like-minded, equally-abnormal friends at your side - and with their help, you’ve got a fighting chance at surviving it. Just don’t forget that you’re also going to need to survive high school, as well.

Oddity High is powered by the Apocalypse Engine, the system used by legendary and award-winning games such as Dungeon World, Monster of the Week, The Sprawl, Urban Shadows, Fellowship, and many, many more.

The Persona games are one of the many inspirations behind this game, about teenagers with abnormal powers. You combine your high-school type playbook with another, stranger playbook called your Other-Life playbook. Many of these playbooks are nods to various tropes in anime, such as masked superheroes, kids with the ability to re-write reality, or someone in control of another entity that is vastly more powerful than any human being.

Judging by the references for this game, Oddity High might lean a little more to the serious side than the goofy side, but if you want really larger-than-life anime hi-jinx, you might want to check out this game.

Clash! Shounen Battle Roleplay, by Sabrina Hawthorne.

CLASH! Shonen Battle Roleplay is a Tabletop Roleplaying Game about dramatic fights and the dramatic emotions those fights represent. It’s a game inspired by classic anime & manga like One Piece, Bleach and Naruto. Play as big, bombastic characters with all sorts of cool powers, facing off against pirates, monsters, and other powerful people just like you.

Shounen manga feels very fitting for games and media like Bakugan, Digimon, and Persona 5, which is why CLASH might have something of what you’re looking for. Your characters will all have cool powers and you’ll be constantly jumping into fight scenes, sinking your emotions and beliefs into the conflict. This is a game meant to be colourful and bold, with an emphasis on teamwork and being heroic.

Right now the game is in play-test, so there isn’t really any art to accompany the game. However, the game is pay-what-you-want while it’s in play-test, so you can check it out for free to see if the themes of the game resonate with what you’re looking for.

Cosmic Ray Kids, by Hedgemaze Press.

Cosmic Ray Kids is a single-page (front and back) atomic-age adventure roleplaying game for all ages. Play as superpowered youngsters who fight the forces of evil with heroics and heart! If you like The Powerpuff Girls, Fantastic Four, or Teen Titans Go!, you’ll love Cosmic Ray Kids!

Cosmic Ray Kids emulates the goofy, over-the-top mood of Saturday morning cartoons, with simple rules and a push-your-luck system that always has you trying to balance how much you want to risk. This is a great game for villains as goofy and gonzo as Father or The Delightful Kids From Down The Lane from Kids Next Door. It’s not necessarily styled in the same way as Persona 5 or Bakugan as - written, but I think it’s a light enough game that you could create your own setting that matches closer to what you’re looking for.

You might also want to check out….

Vibe Check, by Ostrichmonkey Games.

Teenagers with Attitude, by CardboardHyperfix.

Under the Neighbourhood, by Quest Friends.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #game recommendations #dnd #asks #indie ttrpg #teenage hijinx #with great power #kids

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funeralhomewifi · 5 months ago

Text

This wasn’t a fight between a Crow and her Talon.

It wasn’t a power struggle between an assassin and the man who molded her into a weapon.

It was a fight between a girl and the man who raised her.

This wasn’t a fight between a Crow and her Talon.

It wasn’t a power struggle between an assassin and the man who molded her into a weapon.

It was a fight between a girl and the man who raised her.

Viago pushed Hemlock into his office. She’d survived her stunt on the Antaam patrol, survived eight (well, seven… actually six, Hemlock didn’t think Teia’d want her head… maybe) Talon’s calling for her to an example of what happens when a Crow royally fucks up long thought out plans.

Viago circled his desk, palms flat on papers that had been abandoned when he’d been summoned by panicked Fledgelings. When he had to get to Hemlock first. Had to pull her from trial by Talon that would only end in her death or tucked away in Velabanchel.

Hemlock assessed the blood stuck under her nails, the First Talon’s call for her head ringing in her ears. “Vi–”

“Leave your leathers, your knives, you can have ten min–”

“Wait.” Hemlock’s stomach dropped, her silver eyes blinking in confusion. “You can’t be seri–”

“Hemlock.” Viago rose from the desk and stalked towards her, all precise and deadly Talon that he was. Hemlock could smell his cologne, the poison seeped into his clothes, if she truly focused, Hem could smell Teia’s lotion streaked through his hair. But Viago bore down on her, hovering, in a way that prickled the fear she hadn’t felt since before he’d found her. “Hemlock, look at me.”

If Hemlock could stand to look into his eyes, Hem would see the horrid mixture of frustration and anger and inkling of sadness hidden in his dark ocean eyes. Instead she focused on his shoulder, on the floor, his desk. “Get away from me, Vi.”

“Do not– ”

“Just listen to me.”

And for her final mistake of the night, Hemlock slapped Viago, determined to put space between them again. The sound reverberated through the office.

And in a snap, Viago was her Talon again.

And Hemlock landed against the bookshelves so hard, the walls shook and her staff dug harshly against her spine.

Even dazed, Hemlock drew her knives, because surely he’d hate her more if she didn’t. But Viago dragged her up by her pinkish hair and kneed her in the stomach before dropping her again.

Viago’s one mistake was turning his back as Teia entered the room. Hemlock rose, clenching her blades and was mere seconds away from the blade piercing Viago’s shoulder. But in a simple move, her Talon slammed the smaller girl against the desk.

“Hemlock,” Teia admonished, slowly closing the office door. When Viago slammed Hem’s head against the corner of the desk. “Vi…”

“You’ve undone months of undercover work in one night,” Viago’s gloved hand moved swiftly to her throat, eyes flicking to the box of poisons at the corner of his desk.

Just kill me. Just kill me. Just–

“I didn’t know,” Hemlock gasped, nails digging into the leather at her neck.

“You didn’t need to,” Viago snapped.

“That’s rich,” Hemlock managed, noting that her blade was still within reach. “I’ve been your fucking sentient diary for ten years, right?”

“Hemlock, I’m being generous .” Then when there was movement, his gaze flickered and softened. “I have it handled, Andarateia.”

"Oh, like you handled your ascent to Fifth Talon, right? Don't get me fucking started on trailing after your mother when she's off the--" Hemlock grinned through the pain, if he was going to kill her then she'd remind him that she carried all his dirty secrets and that she was the one with blood on her hands. "We could write a whole research paper on your feelings about Teia."

Teia stepped forward, “Hemlock!”

When Viago’s attention dared to waver, Hemlock snatched the dagger and lashed out. She didn’t think about the damage, she just needed to get out of Viago’s grasp.

Just go. Just go. Just go.

Instead, her pointed ears burned from anger and embarrassment. But Teia’s sharp intake of breath, drew Hem’s attention back.

Viago’s right side of his face was bloody, the blade just barely missing his eye, but the Fifth Talon held a bloody hand between Teia.

I’m sorry, Vi…

With horribly unsteady hands, Hemlock unclipped her cape.

“Pack your–”

But Hemlock threw her remaining blades across the desk, using her fiery orb as a halfhearted threat to stay away.

“I’m clearly not meeting expectations anymore. And apparently dropping me into a canal knowing I can’t swim is both too easy and admitting failure, so…”

She removed her Crow equipment–the leathers, the belts, her gloves. Hemlock emptied her pockets of what little gold she carried with her, let her favorite charms fall to the floor (a snake arm band from Viago that reminded her of Emil, a bracelet from Teia when she made it from Fledgeling status, a small crystal cat from Viago that served as a good luck charm that clearly ran out of luck.), even let her staff fall backwards, uncaring if it broke.

Lastly, Hemlock plucked the vials of poison she’d been trained to dose herself with daily since she was thirteen and gently set it on the corner of his desk.

With a pointed nod, Hemlock brushed by Teia and left the Cantori Diamond.

Did she have a plan? No.

Did she care? Kind of… Not really… No.

Hemlock leapt across rooftops and weaved through the city until she was certain she was no longer being followed. She rested on a ledge against a wall of climbing vines close to Cafe Pietra.

“Long night?” A horribly familiar voice emerged from the window above. When Hemlock peered up, Lucanis Dellamorte cocked his head before sipping his coffee.

But it was Illario Dellamorte smirking down at her, leaning over with his own mug in his hands, eyes roaming her bare arms and weaponless form. “Catarina would be overjoyed to find you like this.”

Hemlock scoffed, rising and plucking away Illario’s coffee. She took a pointed sip, then thoughtfully considered Lucanis.

I could get away from Illario… Lucanis, however…

But in a moment of good fortune, or mercy, Lucanis looked away.

And Hemlock threw the hot coffee in Illario’s face before jumping from the ledge and resuming her disappearing act, his cry of disdain over ruining his clothes filling the night.

Catarina Dellamorte already wanted her dead, why not add to the list? She just needed to get out of the city.

Cold and exhausted, with a pounding migraine, Hemlock passed through the city limits. Anxiety prickled her nerves, she never left Antiva unless for a contract or an event, she always had a plan, Viago’s carefully laid agenda laid out in front of her–kill, acquire, incapacitate.

“Ready to go?”

Hemlock blinked out of her thoughts to consider the Dwarves that emerged next to her. Varric and… Lace, if she remembered correctly? Antaam prisoners before her grand fuck up.

“You cleaned up quickly,” Hemlock managed. She didn’t want to know about the aftermath, how much more she’d fucked up.

“Ah, well, you should see the other guys.” Varric nodded to herself, “You have an idea of what you’re doing next? Happens that we do need a Crow.”

“Ah, well …” Hemlock motioned to her weaponless form.

“We can work out the specifics on the way.” Varric started off. “Let’s go, Kid.”

#sorry for the formatting #dragon age veilguard #rook de riva #viago de riva #rookanis #if you squint #for the morning crowd

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sleepyfan-blog · 11 months ago

Text

To Travel

Author’s note: The seventh fic for Nadesir! first. Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: none? Please let me know if I missed something/if something bothers you

Summary: You have to go see your family. Vanya would like to come with you, but you turn him down for Reasons.

“Are you sure that I cannot come with you, my moon?” Vanya asks as he looks down at you, a worried frown appearing on his face as he gently cups your face in one of his clawed hands.

You shake your head, sighing a little “Most of my family are very… Wary around Space Marines, and while I know that you wouldn’t try and antagonize them on purpose… At least not at first, they would definitely try to antagonize you, and that would get very messy very quickly.”

Vanya huffs, pouting a little at you “I would be able to keep my temper, no matter what your foolish family members might try to do or say in order to provoke my wrath. I’m sure it’s nothing that I wouldn’t be able to handle. I have dealt with idiots who think that because I am a Chaos-aligned Night Lord, that means that I am a mindless beast, rather than sentient and in full control of my thoughts, emotions and actions.”

There was… A lot about your family that you had chosen not to try and explain to Vanya, in part because you were quite certain that he’d be very, very unwilling to let you near any of them ever again. At least not without being in full armor and with his weapons at him at all times while you stayed at his side, in his wings, or on his shoulders the entire time.

Yes, many of your family members were dangerous. But they generally did not pose a threat to you, who had taken a civilian job, who lived in a small town in the middle of nowhere, and did your best to keep out of the dangerous circles that the rest of your family ran around in and tried to control. “I know. But I’d rather not put you in a position where your temper is tested over and over again by other people whom I care for.” You had little doubt that Vanya would be able to handle any physical threat that your family attempted to pose at him… But going on the run with Vanya after he slaughtered half your family for deliberately provoking his temper was not something you were interested in doing.

Especially now that you had been made aware of the fact that Astartes did have their own kind of internal investigative group. Which, really, you should have guessed was a thing, from how rigidly the loyalists (loyal to what, or to whom, none of them would ever explain to you) ran things in town. Still, the brief encounter you had with the Dark Angels had been mildly unsettling, though far from the most distressing event that had happened to you that day.

Vanya let out a low, unhappy whine and shuffled closer to you, his wings twitching a little, as if he was restraining himself from scooping you up and hiding you in them. His fingers shift as he kneels down to be closer to your eye level. “If you are certain… Then I promise to not follow you to your family. But… Please keep in mind that should you need or wish for me to be by your side, you need only call and I will be there for you as soon as possible.” He pressed his forehead to yours, before giving you a light kiss.

You kiss him back, hugging him tightly. You did not want to go to the family reunion that your sister had half-blackmailed you into going to, but she’d found out about you getting kidnapped somehow - even though Vanya had rescued you and the other kidnapped people before the bastards had been able to get to wherever they were planning on holding yourself and the others. But she’d threatened to tell the family that you’d been kidnapped, and the absolute shitstorm that would occur, should the rest of them find out … Was not one you were interested in weathering. “I’ll keep that in mind, Vanya. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. See you then, love. I’ll call when the plane lands.”

Vanya lets out a low, unhappy rumble in his chest, peering down at you with deep, endlessly dark midnight black eyes. Not for the first time you silently wondered if he could see in the dark, and had a reflective layer at the back of his eyes, considering how dark they were. That and his sensitivity to bright light. “Very well… I will take you to the airport at least… Yes?”

“Alright, you can drop me off at the terminal.” You allowed. You weren’t going to let him wait with you in the airport security area… Not only was he far more likely to get antsy and try to steal you away, you did not want to explain about the fact that your family had the wealth to charter you a private plane. Vanya didn’t seem to understand money very well, but even so. It would be enough of an oddity that you suspected that he would mention it to the other Astartes he frequently sparred and trained alongside of them, and some of them understood how the mortal economy worked very, very well.

Vanya beamed in response, a pleased purr rumbling from his chest as he scooped you up, giving you little kisses on your cheeks and forehead, his wings wrapping around your body securely. “Thank you, my moon! Thank you!” before he started rumbling at you in one of the other languages he spoke. One that you did not understand, though you were trying to learn.

You can’t help but giggle a little at his enthusiasm, and you kiss and hug him back as best as you can. You’re half-dreading the trip, but Vanya’s fierce love and care for you has been such a wonderful, if unexpected blessing in your life.

Vanya carries you and the suitcase he helped you pack the entire way to the airport that the plane that your family had chartered for you to fly to your childhood home in. The airport in question was one of the three in the large town that was several hours’ drive away from the small town that you’d settled in, and found Vanya in. Given that Astartes can run at the speed of most cars, you weren’t surprised that he preferred to do this, rather than squish his way into a cab next to you.

The airport is, as ever, incredibly busy with dozens of cars driving up and dropping off people heading to the planes that they need or want to catch. You can see a handful of other Astartes in the crush of people making their way through the different doors into the building itself. Vanya is the only Night Lord you can see, but that doesn’t surprise you very much. It is mid morning, the sun is high in the sky, and there are so many people and what must be a truly cacophonous amount of noise to the highly-sensitive hearing of an astartes.

You can tell that Vanya is starting to get overstimulated, by the way his body shifts and shakes a little- the way his eyes dart around everywhere and the way that he hovers closer to you. “Hey… Vanya, darling…” You call out, voice quiet but loud enough to catch his attention.

“Yes, my moon?” Vanya asks, eyes wide and focused on you. His wings twitch and his hands are clenching and unclenching a little.

“Thank you for taking me to the airport. I tried explaining how busy it would be, even at eight in the morning on a Tuesday, but…” You gesture around helplessly “It’s hard to really explain it, if you don’t have the context.”

“You are welcome, my love. I will be waiting for your call once you land.” Vanya rumbled unhappily, bending over to give you a hug. He buries his face into the side of your neck.

You run a hand through his thick, dark hair, turning your head to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I will. Fly free, Vanya.”

“You as well, my moon.” He rumbles, giving you one last kiss before very reluctantly letting you go. He watches as you enter the airport building before he turned away and started jogging at an easy, swift pace that he could maintain for weeks if he needed to. He would rather have gone with you to meet your family, but would respect your wishes… Despite how difficult doing so was for him.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #my writing #night lord #oc: nadesir #reader insert #female reader #night lord x fem reader

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