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hazelhavoc · 2 years

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Should I upload my OC's on here? As well as my art of them? *strokes chin thoughtfully*

I have no idea how to make like- subposts for Tumblr. Maybe I'll look it up and learn a bit. I don't want my posts to be all over the damn place, especially if I'm doing stuff for my OC's. :]

Besides- I have a LOT and I wanna do stuff with them so badly.

-Transformer OC's. Yes. I am currently interested in Transformers so...

Perhaps when I upload my OC's, you can ask them stuff!

Or maybe I should do it here. Yeah, ima do it here.

I will have bigger descriptions of them when we DM or talk- and I share them. Haha

TW// This will have dark themes. I won't go into detail, but I'm just warning you. It's just mentioned though.

Neutral OC's (Can be added to)

Atomsplitter - Neutral - Mech

Age: 20 million years old

Profession (in his opinion) - Quantum Physician/Researcher and Experimenter

Alt-Mode: Quantum X Hover Craft/Jet, he upgraded himself.

Before the war he left, so he only knows about it due to intercommunication chatter. Very disconnected from his planet, since the Functionalists tried to put him in a job he didn't want. Plus, they feared his genius processor. Basically, he has his own ship he made himself and explores just like how Cyberyronian's used to do!

~•~

Fyri - Neutral - Mech

Age: 8 million years

Profession - Organic Researcher / Explorer

Alt-Mode: Small, sleek four wheeler (pays mind to his symbiotic friend on his body so he doesn't crush it)

He's also keeping on that the current Cybertron has abandoned, traditional Cybertronian's would explore the stars and new worlds. He's an expert in organics, and maps the cosmos! Returning to planets if a long time has planned. He is also friends with Atomsplitter, they have a private comm but they aren't super close. Just fellow Neutrals- he found out about Cybertron and the war when he returned to see his Sire. Coming back to a dead planet.

~•~

Vaikus - Neutral - Femme

Age: 14 million years

Profession - Star mapper, cultural researcher, sort of fucked up in the head because of what the Senate did to her previously. She's an artist as well.

Alt-Mode: Two Wheeler, more of a hover bike.

Basically, the Senate decided to try and mess with her processor. Just to see if they could manipulate her into doing what they want. Sort of like shadowplay, but it was a failed attempt. Instead of removing her emotions, they amplified them to an extreme and she ended up escaping. She ended up leaving Cybertron, unable to handle being trapped on that planet. Not to mention, being discovered again? Primus no, she didn't want that. Ended up coming up with a type of personal medicine for herself, Supressers. Helping with the overwhelming feelings she has, but it can be a huge problem even when said medicine is in affect.

She wants to be normal again, and not feel so overwhelmed all the time.

~•~

Paradox - Neutral but hostile - Femme

Age: 27 million years

Before the war:

Spacebridge Engineer, Top Medical Officer on her space station, Biomechanical Scientist

During the war:

All the same, but now a loose canon, Weapon Specialist and Inventor is added to her list

She started out humbly, a dreamer, though she's quite prideful of all that she's accomplished. Never loosing tha curious spark that made her who she is today. Having a Sire and Creator who were especially pressuring- given they were both elite scientists.

Alt-Mode - Triple Changer:

A four wheeler with modifications done to herself. A jet that's also been modified. Both are lightweight but she made it so her armor can absorb blaster fire for a short time and make a shield around her if need be.

Paradox didn't turn out snobby per say, though she did develop a god-complex early on, which hides an inferiority complex. Confident until she 'fail', and then she doesn't act like herself after everything. Her Sire and Creator didn't help in this regard. Being viewed as a perfect femme, and being expected to be a perfect femme, and high expectations to meet. She did meet them.

She improved upon technology.

Paradox was smart, having an overly developed processor that could store more information than most, and calculate faster as well. Getting top marks in the Crystal City Science Institute. She was one of the ones that new AtomSplitter before he left Cybertron to do his own research. Treated him sort of like a brother, but not really at the same time. He was one of the only ones that can actually challenge her.

Paradox isn't emotionless. No, she shows emotions. Not her real ones though. Keeping up appearances is what she's skilled at other than her gifted processor and calculations. All thanks to the wrong bots around her, she has to be seen as perfect and successful or she'll break down. Having such weight on her shoulders, especially when she was younger just made her mentality worse. Whenever she failed, she'd be seen as a failure. It's as if she's been stripped of her purpose- needing to prove herself all over again.

He left.

And she never got close to anyone again. Finding that the pain of watching someone leave was too great. Keeping herself only barely at arms length, so nobody tries to get any closer.

So when the war started, she was already on a seperate space station with a ground bridge. Only able to watch as war rampaged through the planet. Now even more hangs on her shoulders. All the mechs and some femmes in the space station she needs to take care of. On one servo she revels in the control- of course taking care of the Cybertronian's to the utmost of her ability. On the other servo, her mental state has become distressingly fragile. Outbursts becoming more common, but Paradox tries to make it up to whoever it was aimed at.

Sadly, taking care of an entire space station has it's own cons. Of course she knew they would starve, or others would take themselves out due to the war raging on the surface of Cybertron. Or even join the war by leaving the space station. Due to most leaving, and others going offline around her, she was left alone. Only able to live off the excess inner-most energon and going down by herself to grab energon. Slowly becoming more inclined to make weapons, defenses, tighter security, and guard the space bridge. Never turning it on- it costs much energon. Thanks to the stress of the war, she ended up using herself as a way to improve technology. Weapons, inventions, and others becoming her solace in this mostly empty station.

~•~

Outbreak - Non-Aligned (Neutral) - Mech

Age: 30-35 million years

Before the war:

Graduated from Vos' medical academy at the top of his class. Became quite renowned for his medical expertise, as well as finding antidotes for diseases and plagues.

During the war:

Was sent to Garrus-9 after being found to harbor and make new viruses, unleash them on a small populous and then take the sick to 'cure' them- when in actuality it's an excuse to make new viruses.

Escaped containment after releasing a deadly pathogen that caused delirium and paralysis soon after. It wasn't fatal, thankfully.

Alt-Mode:

A bulkier medical type but he asked Paradox, an acquaintance and lone experimental scientist to give him a new frame. She did. He's a Cybertronian jet.

His love for it slowly turned to obsession though, but he wasn't crazy of course. Being pressured by higher caste systems, and watching as Cybertron slowly fell into a deep void of problems. He got more and more holed up in his offices. More private. More secretive. Even when he returned to help the medical field in higher caste systems, he never spent too much time there.

He found the medical field fascinating when he first started and was given his role. Especially smaller living organisms that can't be seen with the naked optic. Saving lives and studying pathogens was his life. He enjoyed it, was in awe of how life can go on even when so many dangerous things can form from a single mixup in chemicals, or just rapidly evolve. Outbreak didn't mind the slight gritty work of handling outbreaks, he enjoyed it and making solutions too.

Nor was he greedy for fame, he went out of his way to go to the lower caste systems and open small medical facilities to help.

He was eventually caught…Autobots caught him when they were doing a review of his facilities in lower Iacon. Outbreak can admit that it was foolish of him to think they'd overlook a switch into the lower levels especially after a small outbreak suddenly rose and he miraculously cured it before it could get worse. Arrested during the war, being seen as guilty of 1st Degree Murder, Genocide (but not of a specific group, who he experimented on and used was very diverse), Illegal Weaponization of Diseases and Pathogens, and the Production of Deadly Diseases, and Kidnapping. Not to mention planning to spread the disease.

Slowly, Outbreak started to experiment with different diseases, viruses, ect. Having a perfect way to hide it all, and take fresh corpses to see what would happen. The living were slowly taken though, most that were sick. He was…calm but excited, maybe he can make some type of undetectable disease? He agreed with the Decepticon's for the most part but they were slowly becoming hostile. Not to mention, the growing tension between factions. It put a strain on his work since he didn't particularly lean into any other side. Outbreak never pleaded Insanity, because he was always in his right mind. Sure, he was a bit obsessed with making new deadly pathogens, but he did intend to always have a cure on hand if it happened to break out. Excluding all the deadly, specific airborne diseases he made for different frame types and the like- just in case he needed to kill any.

He was sent to Garrus-9 during the war. Even when he tried to convince some of the Enforcers that the diseases he made can improve their immunity. It wasn't in desperation though.

He's intelligent and calm, a bit obsessed with his experiments but overall very reliable if you trust him. Even in G-9, Outbreak was cooperative even in the lower level he was put in. A bit above Maximum Security, but not taken lightly either. Maybe he went a big stir crazy, but not enough to be considering unstable. Wings aching for flight, he never mentioned anything about compartments in his frame that have small vials of specific diseases he made.

Upon serving his sentence here in this very fortified cell. Outbreak was relatively quiet. Silently working out a plan to escape. Even as Autobots and Decepticon's alike came in from the war.

~•~

Tempest - Predacon - Femme ("Aligned with a side" is complicated since she is very morally grey- will take the best route to survive)

Not necessarily part of the Predacon's.

Age - ??? (Pretty damn old but doesn't look it)

Before the war -

She was from The Underworld and part of the Acid Wastes, but went to the Sea of Rust. Very clever and intelligent, so she is interested in other species and her own kind. Though, she can be quite violent if she's pissed off so she's a big fighter when that happens.

During the war -

She is very critical of which side she should help. Tempest isn't particularly keen on either one of them- but helps the Autobots the most. They treat her well, and (most) don't seem scared of her. ~~Very unpredictable when given survival is top priority in dangerous situations~~

(Also because the Decepticon's tried to force her to join them near the beginning of the war.)

Alt-Mode -

Simply put, she is a four legged dragon. She is rather large in her dragon form, but not as tall as Megatron or Optimus in her bipedal mode. Very compact.

(She is light and dark grey, with yellow accents, hints of luminescent blue and green, and some black. The middle of her chassis, under her protoform, it glows a blue when she's charging up her fire. Her optics are a yellow and blue color. Blue takes over all of her optics when she's in dragon mode or using her flames.)

Knows Primal Vernacular and fluent in it, but can speak well in the common tongue. She has an accent because of it though. Also speaks an ancient language that most likely was used by her species.

Tempest has been around for a long time. The dragon doesn't mind how long she's lived, and barely remembers her days as a sparkling given how long it's been. (She has vivid memories of the disaster that took her parents away though.) Witnessing different wars through the eras- she is grateful to still be online. She never had a strong opinion on the Senate since she stayed away from most civilizations. What interests her are the places that many of the populous don't occupy.

She likes her solitude, and can survive well off on her own. Though, there has been times she's assisted bots in different regions of Cybertron. Saving them from offlining.

Strangely, she acts quite noble despite her slightly...unhinged nature. Tempest has been alone for quite a long time. Most of the friends she made along the way, end up dying even when she saves them or tries to help them. She thinks fate might have something against her because of her misfortune. That's why she has strong survival instincts but also...

Heavy survivors guilt. It's a real push and pull mental turmoil in her processor. Especially counting that disaster that took her Carrier and Creator away from her.

Throughout the many millennia, she hasn't had a clear consciousness and it only got worse when she gained someone and then lost them.

Ignorant individuals think she is dumb as well, even when she is not. It's irritating to her, and really put you on her bad side.

Tempest has a strong sense of loyalty. Especially if she puts her trust in someone. Socially inept but relatively friendly. Can act quite animal-like when she trusts her surroundings or someone. (Sorta like a dog in a way but it's a dragon lol.)

If her loyalty is broken by someone she trusts, then that person better wish they never angered her.

She has great fighting capabilities, but can can get a bit too into it. It's a Primal way of acting for her but it's natural to gain complete victory in battle. Though, if she's in a blind rage, you better get the hell away from her general vicinity.

Uses blue, scorching flames to fry/melt her opponents. She can condense the flames to turn white but it can also harm her if used for too long. They are very dangerous.

Tempest may act animalistic at times. Acting like an actual dragon, and exhibiting actual animal like traits. Depending on the person, this can be dangerous or fairly harmless.

~•~

Autobot OC's (Can be added to)

Glint - Mini-bot - Femme

Age: 16 million years

Alt-Mode: Cybertronian hovercraft, four wings and six thrusters. Can also float in the air with careful control of her thrusters on her pedes.

Occupation before the War:

-Air control for landings, messenger relay, weather surveyor

Occupation during the war:

-Flyer, messenger, investigator, tracker, assistant to Prowl, logistics officer, documenter

Glint, as well as other mini's, we're never that well respected. It was fortunate she got a good job, especially in Iacon, but that didn't mean other bots didn't treat her any less shitty. Her boss was an aft, and trying right live as best as she can even when she knew she was getting paid less shanix then everyone else. Thundercracker, Skywarp, and Jetfire treated her with respect at least, but that didn't last when the war started. It was frightening for her. Joining the Autobots was one of the best decisions she ever made though! (Even if some of them looked down on her.)

~•~

Sova - Beastformer - Autobot (doesn't have the insignia though) - Mech

(Red rings in his optics indicate hostility/warning/fear. Usually he has normal, wide golden optics.)

Age: 9 million years

Occupation before the war: Lived near an abandoned area once. Was then taken from his home, treated as a 'pet' and like a lesser being. Had to learn on his own but was either punished for it, or ignored.

Occupation in war: Information gatherer (sometimes), he doesn't like leaving Rung and Ratchet alone nor does he like to worry anyone. He does it to be on look out so he can protect others.

Alt-Mode:

His beastform is a giant owl, armored and talons sharp. His wings and tail are naturally razor sharp, he can cut through most things. He can move fast, quiet, and swift. He prefers not to talk but will if he needs to.

Before the war be always liked to help others but thanks to him being a "beast" he never had that much of a home or job. He didn't know how to handle his emotions, he never learned from anyone. He does feel things but he never expresses or shows it, all he does is have a stoic face. Although, despite this he was taken from his home and into Iacon by some snobby mech. Of course, Sova didn't know how to show gratitude or fear. He felt warm, but that went down the drain fast when he was treated like he wasn't some sentient being. He didn't have much of a choose and stayed with the mech, even through the abuse, mental, physical, and sexual (mainly by a 'medic'). Thankfully, he was rescued by Ratchet when the bombing from the Decepticon's started.

~•~

Breeze - Dinobot - Femme

Age: 25 million years (probably older)

Before the war:

Was part of Primal Vanguard- and well versed in stealth tactics, has high medical experience. Was paired up with Grimlock and Slag. (Much to her dissatisfaction)

During the war:

Still part of the Dinobots! Medical officer in the group, stealth officer.

Prefers not to fight, but can be a ruthless killer if the need arises.

Alt-Mode:

Was a regular four-wheeler before, but was forcefully given a Achillobator alt-mode. (Dark green, red, and light grey with yellow optics)

With one look of her, one wouldn't expect her to be so violent when she's fighting. Sweet, but reserved. Even a bit prideful when it comes to her skills. Consequently, she doesn't like listening to orders from Ultra Magnus, Prowl, or Optimus Prime, even Grimlock sometimes! This was amplified when she got her Achillobator alt-form. Though naturally falling into a pack, she can be troublesome if she wants to deal with something herself.

Because of this, she likes the Wreckers quite a bit, but ultimately always returns to her designated group.

Breeze eventually comes to like her fellow Dinobots, though it takes a while for her to come around.

~•~

Lucidity - Insecticon - Autobot - Femme

Age - 26 million years old

Before the war - Taken away from her home just for being curious of the beauty of Praxus at night. Taken in by the higher power and wealthy and made into an entertainer for them. Also a beautiful singer, she is pretty famous in high society.

During the war -

Medic (but is also in Special Operations under Jazz)

Outlier - Psychosis

-Certain sounds cause a paralyzing effect, most of them others can't hear.

-Patterns she displays in her optics and wings have a hypnosis effect. She has compound optics, multiple lens in her optics, so it's extremely effective.

-If she wants to, she can dispel micro particles that can invade someones mind and cause a euphoric reaction. In reality, this decommissions any motor functions if overused/inhaled too much.

-Can blend into her surroundings in her alt-mode.

Alt - Mode:

A beautiful butterfly. She has six legs in this form, and can fly silently.

In her bipedal mode, she has four arms and to legs.

(Purple and blue optics, plating is white, light purple, dark blue, and some hints of black. Can change her biolight's color naturally)

Extremely beautiful and was taken by the higher ups in Praxus because of her beauty, effects on others processors, and the "entertainer" factor. Her singing was hypnotic in every way. All her pattern like movements that were reserved for personal performances. Used as a pillar of release, lies, distractions, and entertainment. Many on the lower levels believe her to be snobby, rich, and pampered. In actuality, she was being controlled fully by her "managers". Unable to ask for help, or get away. Lucidity has tried many times to leave her captors but after many tries…she learned that she was trapped. Stopping herself from escaping now that she's in this position.

Inspired by:

Grimes - REALiTi (Voice sounds like this)

Grimes - Shinigami Eyes

Villain - Bella Poarch

YOASOBI - Idol「アイドル」

In time, trying desperately to enjoy it and find some kind of purpose from it. Even so, she was naturally very private and sweet- and doesn't do well with lot's of attention. Even so, during many private performances she tries to endure it even when it caused great damage to her mind. Especially her natural power being used to gain highs. But she learned that if she controlled it enough, they'd be high but not too much to notice they are paralyzed. Even so- there was a restriction placed on her abilities so it didn't matter in the end.

Aside from being used as some stress reliever/tool, she found some kind of happiness in singing and making others happy. All the personal finances she got in Shanix, was mostly pushed towards charities anonymously with enough for her to get by (and keeping it under the radar from her captors). Sure, she was being used for deed that made her want to cry but at least she could help those in need.

Lucidity can't help but feel alone and not real, like she's in some kind of pocket dimension that forced her to be a puppet for others entertainment.

There are times when she has identity crisis'. It was more common earlier in her "career" because of all of the drastic changes and struggling to come to terms with her situation.

What's more common now is her derealization. Often happening when she is brought in for meetings, being lectured by her superiors, or being alone with her "clients" (corrupt enforcers, her managers, ect). There are often times when she wakes up sore but alone.

Alone.

They never got to try and find where she went, given the Decepticon threat and leaving the safety of Praxus would mean going on Decepticon territory.

There was a change. A chance.

One night, after one of her performances. Nobody was there to take her back to her suite, only a way to leave the life she had. A chance to get someone- anyone's help. There were shackles on her as she ran out of the building and into the empty streets. So she escaped. Her captors never thought to put a tracker on her. They couldn't do that- given her stardom. Maybe that was a blessing in disguise?

Lucidity joined the Autobot's, believing it to be a safe haven. Somewhere she can stay away from Praxus and any other city for that matter. Having no idea what any other cities would try and do to her.

And it was. It was more than what she could ask for. But with a war on the horizon, she couldn't continue with what she was doing before. It was all she knew anymore- so she was lost for a while. Still experiencing what it was like to fade in and out of reality.

It became another occupation of hers that she enjoyed just as much as being a medic. Efficient in silent takedowns and flooding a battlefield beforehand with her "pollen" like particles, or Decepticon bases with it. She killed others only when necessary. Her abilities were extremely useful when cornered too.

But she did find a purpose. Being able to access more information, and being given suggestions on what to do from others around her. She became a medic at first, enjoying the feeling of helping others and trying to get over her fears of touching others. The use of her four arms and servos came in handy.

Her quiet entrances, use of her abilities to numb patients minds to pain naturally, and overall mask on her faceplate. Well- it didn't go unnoticed by Jazz and others in the stealth division.

But…there was always a part of her that felt like she was wearing a mask always. Sweet and perky, even alluring at times. How she'd been "trained". She wishes she'd have someone to see her real self. Wishing she'd have a place to be comfortable, and to open up to someone. Get rid of the disgusting itch phantom touches, aches, and nightmares she experiences constantly. For now, she keeps it all inside. Too afraid to take off the mask she's always had on. Even if others think of her as ignorant (she's far from it).

~•~

Stutterbolt - Autobot - Femme

Age: 10 million years

Alt-mode:

Racecar hovercraft that floats. She won't get rid of it even if the others insist. She's attached to her Cybertronian vehicle mode.

Outlier(?): Has fits of exhilarating electricity that speed her up in short bursts. Even when she's in her bipedal mode.

15 foot femme

Before the war: Racer, went to an academy in Iacon and visited Kaon to watch the gladiator's fight

During the war: Backup, sniper, messenger. Actually rather good at spying.

Having been from Velocitron, otherwise known as the Speed Planet, it's quite obvious how she acts. She doesn't speak fast like Blurr, but she can be rather antsy if she sits still for too long. Sleek and smooth, she is able to cut through wind like a missile. Finding obvious enjoyment when she is able to fulfill that racers spirit of hers. When she first joined the Autobots, she had to climb the ranks like others. But she was quickly noticed for her speed and sharp optics. Ending up being pulled aside to be tested for her abilities by Optimus and Ultra Magnus. With her sharp eyes, it was obvious she had amazing capabilities for long distant combat. Her speed was no joke, and finding her abilities even more useful, she was put into combat after training to get her abilities at least somewhat combat worthy. Sadly, thanks to an incident with being raided by Decepticon troops, she was badly injured on the helm and on her left shoulder plating. Stutterbolt managed to drag herself to the comms room when the Decepticon's left after their raid. Calling for medics at the outpost.

Having taken heavy damage, she was never able to fully recover. Still having sharp senses, she was able to fight. She stutters more often, and has dull pains, and sometimes forgets things but she's an otherwise capable soldier.

~•~

Hyperdose - Autobot - Mech

Age: 12 million years

Occupation before the war:

Was an entertainer from Praxus but ended up being moved to Kaon when they found no use for him anymore

Occupation in the war:

Was seriously injured in the early starts of the war thanks to the Decepticons finding out he's joining the Autobots. He's a bit of a Communication's Officer, as well as an entertainer on the side since some bots need some positive.

Alt-Mode:

He turns into a Cybertronian high frequency speaker and recorder

Instruments he can play:

Erhu, Guzheng, Violin, Kalimba, Harp, and Electric bass. Obviously his voice too.

Hyperdose can be defined as several different things.

-The Blind entertainer that knows his way around several traditional cybertronian instruments

-Great at communication, social and war related

-Surprisingly great at being sneaky, and can be used as a device to tell where enemies are on a stealth mission

Hyperdose was a great entertainer. A bar in Praxus, made a steady income of shanix, and had perfect pitch. Maybe too perfect, and his audials could hear the drop of a pin easily from the other side of the bar while there's quiet murmuring. Either way, bots of all kinds enjoyed him and his music. The entertainment days came to a halt when the higher up that held power over his district said he's being sent down to Kaon. It was a sudden move, and he couldn't do anything about it. He tried to be hopeful, maybe he can light up their lives a bit? It would be nice to have some soft music to take the edge as you relax with your engex. It was...eventful, to say the least. Several very overcharged mechs came onto him, which he politely denied. (Some had to be taken out due to not accepting his declines.) And there were plenty of fights. Fights that he tried to stop sometimes but ended up getting in the way.

When the revolution started, he wasn't on any side but he leaned Decepticon. Agreeing that the lower caste should be treated fairly. But once the civilian casualties started? Well...

That's when he became fearful for his own spark.

Who could blame him when he decided to leave to join the Autobots? Believing that a gradual change would be good for everyone, as well as defending civilians that had nothing to do with this war? Quite a couple Decepticon's blamed him. They assaulted him, leading to his optics being ripped out and getting absolutely pummeled. Not dead though. He dragged himself to someone who could help, fortunately there was a bit who did.

~•~

Staticflame - Autobot - Mech

Age: 12 million years

Occupation before the war:

A doctor and scientific researcher.

Occupation after the war:

More of a crazed soldier after his sparkmate was killed on the battlefield. He couldn't save him. It drove his already stressed mental state to the brink. He can still perform medical, but that's not a good idea because of the PTSD he has.

Alt-Mode: Slim frame, a two wheeler that's more for quickly getting around the field instead of transport. Can hover as well.

He had a sparkmate by the name of Rainstrider. Both Staticflame and Rainstrider knew each other from just small sparklings. They became Conjunx Endura once they were assigned their jobs. They're both from Iacon. Rainstrider was a four wheeler and had a better frame for fighting, so he joined the enforcers. Thanks to this, Staticflame excelled in the medical field, inspired to help heal. As well as keep his sparkmate in good health. The tension between the Senate, Autobots, and newly named Decepticon's became apparent when the first civilian attacks happened. It was breaking down into civil war. So, Staticflame followed with Rainstrider into the Autobot ranks. Getting acquainted with Ratchet, First Aid, Perceptor, and among other Autobots.

Staticflame didn't like seeing his sparkmate getting hurt so badly, but it made him proud that he was so strong. The proudness turned to horrible pain when he was sent as a field medic during a skirmish between the Autobots and Decepticon. It was the brutality he saw that scared him, trying to stabilize as many as he can on the field. To hide them behind rubble and broken buildings.

Rainstrider was in this battle, having to retreat. Staticflame truly thought that he was going to get out without any heartache. So when he was grabbed and covered by his sparkmate, only to watch as an explosion went off right where they were standing. Skidding across the ground, he half thought he was hallucinating in the disorienting atmosphere when Rainstrider was shot in the spark chamber by a Decepticon soldier. The bot probably thought Staticflame died since he flew off, but that's far from the truth. The next moments were terrible.

So much energon, it covered the ground and his servos. Crying lubricant, sore all over but ignoring his own pain to try and save his lover. All the stress of this war, it was his breaking point. Trying to keep his servos steady, his own spark chamber aching. Rainstrider only held Staticflame as he went offline. Even through the agony of having his Conjunx ripped from him, he continued to try and revive him. Anything. That never happened though. So he vowed revenge against the Decepticon's. Becoming more of a brutal soldier, a warm criminal. No longer a medic (too much PTSD, he doubts his skills heavily).

~•~

Codeburst - Autobot? Grey Area/Leaning Neutral - Mech

Age: 14 million years

Occupation before the war:

[Redacted]

(High Ranking code breaker for the Senate but nobody needs to know he manipulated the information given to the public, as well as an ex-criminal; nobody but him knows this though)

Occupation during the war:

Hacker, information gathering, [Redacted]

Alt-Mode:

Small four wheeler, with modified wheels that can hover for a short time.

Not many know who he was before the war. It feels like it's all been deleted or wiped. He wears a screen over his face, and makes expressions through that even if he's almost always seen being a statue. He has a small build, but is quite fast. Great at sneak attacks...like he's done them before.

Codeburst can talk.

It's quiet and methodical, his speech can be slow sometimes. Thinking about his every word, as if he'll get punished for saying something wrong.

~•~

Cluster - was a Decepticon first, then an Autobot, but later forced into being a Decepticon once more - Femme

Age: 9 million years old

Occupation before the war:

Was a psychiatrist and writer in the higher caste system, but chose to go to Kaon and continue work there because she saw what the caste system was doing. Also to give some type of therapy to bots down there.

Occupation during the war:

Psychiatrist, Historian/Archivist. Even for the Decepticon's, she is one. Can fight, but not the best at it.

Alt-mode:

Small drone form. Thin wings aimed down.

White, blue, and pinkish red

White optics

During Cybertron's Golden Age, she was given a high education thanks to her Creator's influence despite her having an aerial alt mode. Having an excellent mind for small detailed, and reading other Cybertronian's moods and body language early one. She was given the job of being a psychologist. Though, she more so wanted to be a writer thanks to her imaginative processor. Sadly, she couldn't voice this. Not wanting to give her Creator a bad reputation, but also being quite scared what others will do to her if she were to voice her opinion.

So she took up the job.

Despite her not really wanting the job, she actually grew to like it somewhat since she was able to help others processors.

It grew increasingly irritating though when other bots clogged her schedule up with problems that aren't traumatic. Like she's someone to come to to get advice on a disobedient sparkling. Also noting the discontent and unrest in the less fortunate parts of Cybertron.

~•~

Fizz - Autobot - Mech

Age - 21 Million Years

Before the War -

Has always been a space ship engineer. Admires Atomsplitter even after he left the planet, and tries to follow in his pedesteps. Admires Perceptor too!

During the War -

Space Engineer and helped make the Ark. At first, he was very nervous around the other scientists. They are knowledgeable, and intimidate him- but he's always admired them. So when he was asked to help make the Ark and make upgrades to existing ships- well, he was just ecstatic!

Alt-Mode - A Cybertronian Hovercraft. Make modifications to his thrusters and wings during the war with Brainstorm's help. (May have gotten a weapon upgrade too just in case.)

A dark blue and white, his optics are white.

With so much dedication and thought put into his work- is he confident? No. He's been talked down many times by his superiors. Sure, he knows he can do it but there is also that knawing in the back of his mind that if he messes up, its all over. He worries for his abilities, and strives to be perfect. Fizz is a perfectionist, but to a fault- having serious issues with failure. He can take constructive criticism, but if he's insulted or just rudely told his design is flawed? Well, he won't show it but it'll all bubble under the surface. He'll fidget, and laugh it off but when he's alone there is a 50/50 chance of what he'll do.

Fizz was always fanatical about large ships, especially ones used in the Exploration Era of Cybertron. Admires all kinds of designs, but one day wishes to make his very own ship. That's why he admired Atomsplitter. He was confident enough to make his own ship in secret, and then leave to take part in his own experiments in deep space!

Now see, Fizz isn't that confident. Sure, he's intelligent at what he does, and nobody can beat his expert craftsmanship when it comes to handling spaceships he's been commissioned. When he gets to work, he can really hyperfixate on the thing unless someone pulls him away to refuel.

The fear of failure and yearning for praise has mainly to do with his Carrier, who criticized every little thing he did until he didn't get as many comments about it. It was also partly because of his employer's, he rarely got much credit because of the company he worked for. It didn't help that his own framing was discriminated against and hated. But when he was given praise, or others acknowledged him, he'd be ecstatic. Work harder. Better.

Lock himself in his habsuit and let the negativity consume him.

Or he'll slave away with no rest, to make what was wrong with the craft as perfect as it can be. As strong as it can be.

Of course, the war had to start when he was being recognized for his work a bit more.

There was no way he was going to let them get the upper hand. Sadly, he doesn't know how to fight very well. Sure, he has blasters installed but he freezes up when there is a threat. That has resulted in his capture once…being forced to work for the Decepticon's was NOT fun. How would it? It was terrifying, the harm brought to him did a number to his nerves- not to mention his already race of acknowledgement and praise. Abused with both words and frame.

All that recognition hit him right in the face. Being targeted by Decepticon's, Autobot's, and Neutral's alike…

Fizz joined the Autobot's since he knew killing makes his spark weak. A more peaceful solution to functionalism is way better, right? Let the ones responsible accountable in a court. Sadly, that never happened. But this is a place he felt somewhat welcomed. Able to work, and be given some sort or positive reinforcement by his peers. Though, the weight of responsibility in making ships with weapons- and having to make sure they don't fall apart. Plus, the Decepticon's were trying to win a race to more advanced machinery.

~•~

He'd get rescused by the Autobot's eventually. He was forever changed.

Fizz still had wide-eyed admiration for his peers, excitalable curiosity, and motivation for his work. But there was a much more…fragile vulnerability to his mental state. Hyper aware of mistakes he'd make. As well as being extremely scared of those that may get angry at him, or frustrated. The hyperfixation became more like escapism for him when working on his ships.

Other than that, and war trauma, he's always been quite cute and quiet- but happily talks about the ingenuity of ships and detailed explanations of his creations. He's just more hyper-aware now and has an even deeper fear of failure now (given that when he purposefully messed up stuff fornthe Decepticon's he'd get punished).

Fizz is gentle by nature and not very socially aware. He's kind of socially inept (but not as much as Atomsplitter).

Decepticon OC's (Can be added to)

Blight - Mini-con - Mech

Age: 13 million years

Before the War: Doctor

During the War: Poison / Chemical / Toxin Specialist

Before the war, he always had an interest with mixing chemicals, and making different liquids. Already being a doctor though, he had to do this privately, in how own time. He's not crazy enough to go around where he works, flaunting dangerous substances.

There was also the case with his...Master. Abused heavily, and manipulated by said mech, he didn't live much of a great existence. Even if he was a doctor, a mini no less! It was not enough even for that bastard of a mech. Not to mention the inequality and mistreatment even when doing his job- it really fucked with his processor. Photographic memory really is a blessing and a curse. Even before the war, he went through harsh treatment. Especially with other mechs, he was necessarily a servant of any kind. He was cornered once, and it went off from there. It's very personal and I won't put any details. Let's just say it's what his PTSD revolves around (as well as his Master). He didn't have his phobia back then either.

He, of course, like other bots, attended speeches that Megatronous did. He mostly listened to them over speakers as he had a break from his doctor duties, or in his free time at his home. Especially behind it for the equality because of how many Minibot's are discriminated against.

The short version; when the war broke out, he got traumatized as a field medic + having PTSD from what has happened to him in life? He doesn't like when others touched him, and decided to become an expert in all things toxic, chemical, and poisonous.

~•~

Apantesis - Insecticon (Sort of Neutral) - Femme

Age: 16 million years old? Perhaps older, nobody knows.

Occupation before the war:

Was guarding energon ley lines from any strange creatures, as well as helping keep the lines clean. Only popped out a couple of times to try and look at the shining bright light that came through the cracks in Cybertron

Occupation during the war:

Wouldn't really consider herself on any side, having been discovered by Decepicon's down below in the caverns of Cybertron. She doesn't like being a science experiment...

Perhaps you can count her as a scout.

Alt-Mode: A Cybertron's Moth. Around 15 foot, maybe 14 foot. Not that big! Her wings are around 20 foot when spread out though.

Ability/Outlier?

Hypnosis:

-Can control people by using her lovely wings

-Doesn't use it unless she's cornered or forced to

-Can also brighten her biolights until they're blinding, but that's just naturally something she can do.

She's been around for a long time. Maybe longer. It's obvious she knows Cybertron's caverns like the back of her servo, and takes care of it with loving ferver. It's her home, and she thinks the blue energon lines are absolutely beautiful. Vital for all of their survival. Along with other Incect-bots, she commanded a small hive.

Of course...she wouldn't consider herself a leader, but she was one of the few that was actually scentient and not in a Swarm Hive-Mind with them all. After all, she's checked above around before and has learned some basic language. Though, she speaks Insecti-bot and Primal Vernacular the best. Neocybex is a bit hard for her to learn, but she knows enough to understand it. Having trouble pronouncing, lisping most of her words. It was crucial to keep the energon lines safe lest their home deteriorate and all the other bots above die out. Apantesis notices immediately when she saw the energon was deteriorating. Primus, have mercy on us, is this really true? It was an increasing concern through the cycles. So she investigated.

Much to her horror, she found the above ground much more...dangerous. From what she can read in the modern language, a Civil War. Sadly, she was nabbed by Decepticon scientists, as well as some other Insecti-bots. Trying to reason with these new faceplates- Decepticons? The side that's very violent and wants a forceful revolution? Sadly, they didn't listen, subjecting her and the others that we're captured to experiments.

Cloning.

They weren't able to clone her, nor the others. Only a small sentient group came from her...she guesses. But they didn't look like her at all. The Decepticon's ended up with a lot of mindless Insecti...con drones.

Now? Apantesis keeps clear of the labs and even medical bays (needed to be out into stasis to even get repaired). Bombshell, Kickback, and Shrapnel are her friends. Dear to her. They are the first to be sentient like her, so she taught them her Insecti language, as well as Primal Vernacular (though they didn't get very good at it, they know a couple phrases though). Neocybex was their primary language, given to them by the scientist. Shockwave...she didn't like him. She actually hates him, and doesn't want to be near him.

She's more of a pacifist...killing only when she absolutely has to.

~•~

Highrange - Predacon - Femme

Age: 28 million years (probably older)

Before the war:

Was with Kup and the other Predacon's, learning how to fight. Original she was quite wild dangerous but now she's calm- almost too much. Following the others to the gladiatorial pits, enjoying that she can out her skills to the test and improve.

During the war:

Part of the Predacon's of course, an Assault Group. Though she'd calm and keeps the others from fighting too much, she can blow up easily. Loses herself in battle occasionally. Thank Primus Razorclaw is there.

Amazing tracker, as well as ambushing

Alt-Mode:

A large turbowolf (much bigger than a turbofox) (yellow, white, and red)

If anyone calls her a turbofox, they're getting mauled.

"When my denta tear out your voice box, call me a turbofox again! See where that gets you, a one way ticket to the All-Spark, that's what!"

Thanks to always being in a group, she's very much protective over her fellow Predacon's. Only trusting a select few outside of said group. Being the most distrustful and cautious around strangers. She's also highly territorial, so whatever she claims is hers, it is hers. The only ones she shares with is her team.

Thanks to Kup's training, she's learned to lessen her wild urges most of the time. Instead, channeling them into her fighting- it gets hard when outside of it if someone is threatening her though. What she doesn't appreciate is being underestimated, especially by bigger bots (which most are bigger than her). Sometimes her calm demeanor is overshadowed by predator anger and she used that to take down larger bots than her.

Complimenting her wolf like nature, she thrives in packs and therefore tries to take care of everyone. Usually checking if everyone is alright. Highrange is quite smart, giving input where input is needed when Razorclaw takes the lead.

~•~

Echostream - Decepticon - Beastformer - Mech

Age: 20 million years (probably older)

Before the war:

Stubbornly entered Praxus despite being given unfair judgement- subsequently gaining the interest of some Senators for his want to learn. Sadly, this resulting in his naivety getting manipulated.

During the war:

Recon, Ambushes, Escort, and infiltration

Underestimating this mech is what gets most bots killed. Whether it's joking or serious, he will not hesitate to strike you.

Alt-mode:

Large cybersnake, venomous of course. Similar to a king cobra. (White/red, black, and tan)

Having a strong sense of determination, he pushed himself into this foreign society despite the prejudice and disgust. It fueled him to change their minds. He could change into his bipedal mode, frustratingly- most mistakened him for a femme. He has a naturally slim build, given his alt-mode.

It was quite clear to him that Cybertron's non-beast like residents were struggling even from the outside. The Sea of Rust is where he lived previously, but he made it to Praxus through various different methods. Mainly traveling by himself, but hitching a ride where he could find it. It was even more apparent in his processor that the peaceful times probably wouldn't hold up when he got there. The bots there. They judged him before even getting to know him.

Treating him like some primitive animal. How could they live like this, not realizing what they do is hypocritical?

The Senate unfortunately took notice of the strange beastformer that waltzes into Praxus.

It couldn't have gone more wrong.

Being lured in with the promise of more grand knowledge, manipulating his hopeful nature to change what is happening.

Captured and sedated by that digitally masked mech, then handed to the Senate on a silver platter. They ran experiments on him, making his venom exceptionally more dangerous. Fascinated by how his own body could even produce these liquids. More than half his time there was spent half delirious and half numb. The pain didn't even feel like pain anymore. His sensors overloaded- they had tampered with those too. He's so sensitive now, each movement aches. Using his deadly venom for who knows what. Echostream hated them, and they underestimated his intelligence and will.

He mapped as much as he could of the place he was held in in between experiments. Thanks to his newly improved sensored (that still plauge him to this cycle) he could sense the movements of those even with his optics offline, and audials shut off. It was an inaite ability he always had and they just made it more deadly, as well as his venom.

So he executed his escape plan flawlessly when the Senate was too distracted with rising discourse.

Ending up in Kaon was not his intention. Being loyal to Megatron after many of his species was not his intention. Becoming part of his special forces was not something he expected- but to be treated as an equal. To be able to fight for a cause that didn't leave beastformers out- my, it made him feel joy.

It was excruciating.

Moving overwhelmed him but he didn't give it anymore thought then just getting away.

~•~

Tempjià - Decepticon - Mech

Triple Changer

Age: 18 million years

Profession during the war: Assassin and Intel Gatherer, can fight extremely well, takes dangerous missions as much as he can

Before the war: A criminal, torturer, killed off some bad bots and raided places under the wing of his Sire.

Alt-Mode(s):

Cybertronian Hover Jet Drone / Four Wheeler (both are silent)

Growing up in a more trashy part of Cybertron has it's downfalls. Kaon. Not having much of a childhood or friends caused him to grow up early on. Especially with a strict criminal mastermind of a Sire. It didn't take him long to realize how dangerous it is and how harsh the world can be.

He watched his Creator die at the hands of his Sire. His Sire teaching that not even he can be trusted. Although, still being taken care of by said parental figure. Tempjià never really had any close friends, they were always more like minions that listen to him. He never developed a superiority complex, more like being smart and strategic. Even against his own Sire. He learned from his Sire, took in techniques and training, killing. Becoming obsessive over his weapons and how the rush of murdering someone in cold blood-- err, energon, gave him a high. Sadly, he would get a bit soft over a mech that actually seemed to care for him when he joined Tempjià's gang, well his Sires.

His Sire never let Tempjià do anything fun, or get vulnerable. He was always on edge and sadistic, which in turn made Tempjià that way as well. But the mech was kind, and someone reliable. Tempjià, having no experience, quickly became infatuated with the bot. Albeit, secretly. They became involved after knowing each other for a long time, Tempjià growing more to be an independent. Although, his Sire made him do something that broke him, even before the war but close. Tempjià made a mistake, he showed love for someone. His Sire saw.

His Sire made him kill the mech he loved. That was...the first time Tempjià had cried. It was the first time in a while that he wanted to kill his Sire, to rip him to pieces. Although, as his lover died he said it wasn't Tempjià's fault and that he wishes he had more time to at least be even closer with Tempjià.

He killed his Sire that night. Tortured and then murdered in cold blood.

Tempjià still has a piece of his fallen love, he never really let go even though he knows he should, it's in his subspace. He's brutal now, more brutal than he was. He lost most of his morals when his lover died, but deep down maybe he still feels something. Nowadays, he is one of Megatron's elites, finding enjoyment in watching mechs die. Going on suicide missions with no sense of self-worth, but barely returning with a scratch. He may be small but he is "happy". Sometimes he can be gone for a long time, but others are always on edge around him. Especially Starscream, Megatron let's Tempjià have a couple hits on him sometimes.

~•~

Nighthawk - Decepticon - Mech

Age: 7 Million years

Profession(s):

Field Medic

Seeker

Assassin/Spy (sometimes)

Interrogator (half of the time)

He has always been a medic, even before the war. He liked helping others and healing them, although if he messed up he would really be in a state of panic. It was always easy to calm him down though. It's rather funny, since he worked on fixing up criminals. Maybe he was just too sympathetic to them, because he did a better job at talking to them and helping them, even with his shy nature. Surprisingly, he's good at handling serious people as well. Usually others would probably get annoyed quickly.

Sometimes he was found indulging in the speeches that Megatronous gave out, sitting in the back and away from the commotion of the crowd. It's not like he wasn't fascinated, he just doesn't want to bother anyone. Especially when he's so small, he might get pushed around by all the strong mechs and femmes in the crowd. So he'd hang back and twiddle his servos in front of his chassis and smile softly because of the rights Megatronous is striving for. He agrees that everyone should be equal afterall.

When the war broke out, he was quick to join the Decepticons, those equal ideals fresh in his processor. He didn't fight much, knowing he wouldn't really last long unless he had the upper hand with a surprise. He wasn't expecting to get pulled to Megatronous so quickly, and thanks to him being a medic, he could see the dents in his armor. Not to mention his...now changed demeanor. It wasn't long after telling Megatronous his profession and some previously known skills he had (like being quiet when not even trying) that he was...sent into battle! He was in the backlines, now being pushed into being a field medic. Having his medical supplies and going to fix up fallen Decepticons as quickly and carefully as he could. Trying to reassure the soldiers as best as he could, even when he wasn't used to talking to others.

In the battle for Iacon, it went like it normally did. He helped others, but quickly realized how many were falling. So he had to work fast (with other field medics as well but they were slowly starting to hide or fall). The mech didn't hide, he wanted to help as many as could. Sadly, he was tackled by an Autobot, but before he could react he felt a blade he shoved into his left socket. Pain quickly took over his face and frame, a desperate and pained scream came from. Already having his processor overwhelmed with nightmares from previous battles, even soldiers he couldn't save. It didn't take much for him to push the hesitant Autobot off him and get out one of his blades. His mind was pushed too hard and now he's standing in front of a dead Autobot, energon splashed across him. Said energon running out of his neck cables and spark chamber ripped over thanks to the violent stabbing he did with his blade.

He doesn't go into front row battles anymore (unless he's absolutely needed). He'd rather stay back and do what he does best.

~•~

Duskstar - Outlier - Decepticon - Femme

Outlier Ability - Space distortion (sort of like telekinesis, but less over-powered. She can make things stop mid-air, as well as push things back. She doesn't know the full extent to it, but it gets painful if she uses it too much)

Occupation Before War - Senator Shockwave's assistant, graduated from his private academy with flying colors.

Occupation During War - Megatron's Second in Command next to Starscream/Still Shockwave's assistant, but he became less like the bot she knew before the war.

Can also be considered the strategist, planner, organizer of the troops.

Alt Mode - Two Wheeler and Small Hover Craft

A good 16 foot femme.

Duskstar was helped by Megatron but at the time his actual miner designation was D-16 (then named himself Megatronus, then Megatron). He was a simple miner, but happened upon an injured femme after completing his work for the cycle. She remembers him clearly, he was the first person to help her despite the dangers she posed to herself and others around her as an Outlier (someone with abilities that aren't helped by other technologies).

Yeah. She was beaten and thrown out to rust by others since Outliers are shunned do to being so different. It wasn't inline with the Senate. Duskstar has Space Distortion (basically able to condense space...sorta like telekinesis but has more options). Anyone harboring an Outlier would basically be terminated but D-16 didn't care for such things and led her to a cavern which was his abode. Helping her recover with his little resources and such.

She was helped by him. Of course she didn't want such kindness to get in trouble so she left. Hesitantly promising when she has more control over herself that she'd come back to see him. Then, by the whims of Primus she was later found by Senator Shockwave, who welcomed her to his academy with open arms. Giving her a place to stay and hide, where other Outlier's hid as well. Senator Shockwave was...kind, seeing promise in the Outliers. He had hope that they would change the future of Cybertron and steer it away from the fate it was beginning to dive into. Opression, classism. He didn't see it as right to denounce others with unique abilities and talents. Of course, thanks to Senator Shockwave's disappearance, she left and joined Megatron's revolution. Becoming a Decepticon, after Soundwave. She was second in command, a bit of competition with Starscream.

Duskstar never treats it as a competition though. Remaining rather calm in the face of Starscream who tries to demote her or sabotage her. Oddly enough, she finds it rather admirable that he's so persistent. Not really liking when he tries to become the Leader of the Decepticons though.

It's quite obvious Starscream is staying right where he is.

~•~

Flicker - Outlier - Decepticon - Femme

Outlier Ability:

Perception Control

-Can manipulate a processor to see hallucinations (can be wide scale if she concentrates enough)

-Can also disguise herself as other bots if she gets a full picture of them

-Can go invisible for a short time and still interact with objects.

Age: 9 million years old

Occupation before the war:

Was in prison, thanks to her outlier ability being found out but she escaped when the first bombing of the Senate happened.

Occupation during the war:

Tracker, Assassin, Spy...can also be substituted for a Commander.

Alt-Mode:

Silent Cyberyronian drone

Being discovered with her abilities was not on her to-do listen. To have been caught in a bar fight when she was just growing into her armor sets was an even worse time to experience this. Going invisible in front of the bots, it caused a cascade of reactions. Coming out of being invisible, it caused her dizziness but...seeing that there was hatred in the others eyes. She knew the jig was up. Only at 1 million years old too.

As fast as Flicker could, she ran.

Ran as fast as her legs could take her without them failing her. Living almost between Kaon and Praxus, it was a hotspot for bad mech and femmes alike.

She was on the run for at least 500 stellar-cycles (500 years) before she was finally captured. Dragged to the prison, even when she didn't even deserve to go there. No trial, nothing, just unfair judgement.

Desperate to survive, she adapted to the new dangerous environment faster than she would have liked. Avoiding anyone with a paranoid, cautious optic. It got worse for her, since she was prohibited from transforming like everyone else. Wings being statis-locked from the get go. But by far, the worst part were the radiation testing. It burned her spark so intensely that she felt as if she was going to offline multiple times. It was an overwhelming amount. Eventually, she got used to it and they even stopped for...whatever reason. Being so drained of fear and kindness, she became rather notorious in said prison block. There were some mech that were 'kind' but only because it benefited them. Flicker was taught to fight in there, hide important information, steal, deadly kill techniques, track, spy, and a multitude of other stuff.

Given a rough education, and no emotional stability. Her mental was fucked up, but Flicker made did her best to keep her sanity intact lest she act like the brutes in this prison. Thanks to her deadliness and tendency to be unpredictable, nobody tried to make a grab at her except for a few. She offlined two, and severely injured one. This all happened over a span of 4 million years. The next 4 million would be improving her abilities as quietly as she could. As privately as she could. Having grown into her plating already, it didn't take her long to realize that these idiots don't know how to supress her Outlier abilities. Not to mention, those radiation tests just seemed to make her abilities that much more powerful, though she never told anyone. Not even some mechs she 'trusted'.

Having a photographic memory, she was able to memorize the guards routes. Carefully and meticulous coming up with an escape plan. Patiently waiting for the opportunity to arise where she can get out undetected. Making a rough replica of the key to the stasis cuffs on her wings. It'll be painful to transform after not doing it for so long, but she's been through worse.

Much worse.

So on the day of the bombing, that was it. It was her chance. The panic went all the way to the prison.

During the panic, she slipped through the cracks and meticulously planned route to get out. It worked, thank Primus.

For a whole 3 cycles until she ended up trying to steal from the Decepticon's. Flicker didn't care much for what was happening around her, but it became clear she was taken by a faction with some...good ideals. The idea of becoming equal, to not be judged for her Outlier abilities, it sounds amazing. After hearing Megatron speak of equality, and destroying the functionalist society to rebuild a more just one made her feel at home. Like she found her bots. Flicker joined, especially after finding out Soundwave was also an outlier. He was such a high rank too, clearly this was a good place!

~•~

And that's about it for now. I'll probably put the pictures seperately. I don't have them all on my phone so yeah. I'll definitely put them on this post-- or on a different one. Or just in seperate posts.

ANYWAYS.

You may ask my OC's anything you want. Don't make it super weird though. I'm ok with NSFW questions, but don't get too crazy.

I do ship my OC's with canon characters so you can also ask questions about other canon characters to my OC's and stuff! :] Have fun but keep it respectful too.

See ya! And thanks for reading if you really did read it all!

7 notes · View notes

darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

Text

An Angel and A Demon ~ Pyramid Head x Reader

Update 2: My laptop restarted when I was in the middle of writing this, and trust me when I say it, I am positively pissed off, and I want to end my days, that's how bad of a day this was.

And I didn't leave the house.

That says a lot about today...

Update 1: But, without further ado, I was half-way writing this story, and I received this ask, and let me tell you...

helloooo, i absolutely adored the fanfics you wrote about kazan and danny🥺 could i request one where pyramid head is just really whipped for and in love with the survivor! reader but he doesnt know how to announce it to them so he brings her random ,,gifts" in and outside the trials and protecting her bc well, im pretty sure he cant speak so he doesnt really have any other options on how to express his feelings??

I live for it.

Bless you for sending me this, it's the reason I'm still sane right now.

I love you, baby-cakes.

Update 3: I want to kill myself so bad. Just smash my head on a wall until it explodes or sth. I was so happy with how this imagine turned out, only fuck fucking tumblr to just fucking delete EVERYTHING just as I was about to put the last gif and hit POST NOW.

--------

For the 5th time writing this :

FUCKMEDADDY - but this time - FUCKMYBRAINSOUTPLEASEIWANNADIE

Thanks.

-------

Hell - What was that place, anyway?

Some would describe it as an infinite ocean of flames and lava, where it's eternally melting-hot, and a bunch of hooved, horned, tailed red demons torture you with acid, with their red pitch forks, or boil you alive in their cauldron for soup. Or maybe you just get tortured by Stalin, who knows?

But never would have anyone thought that 'Hell' could look so...Normal. Well, normal in a very demolished, desolate, ravished way, but still...Normal, by human standards. Albeit, the never-ending loop of madness, anguish, agony and desperation of getting killed in different gruesome ways or fleeing for their lives and feeling a myriad of emotions pumping adrenaline through their veins so badly that their anxiety-meter skyrocketed to abnormal levels.

All this darkness, this hatred, this...Everything...It changed all the survivors. They became selfish, stubborn, rude, some even went as far as to sacrifice their fellow survivors in trials, just so they could survive. It was a complete mayhem that defied all kinds of reason, normality, morality or even ethics. Everyone became devoid of any laws that used to bind them to their humane sides, and now, you weren't sure if the killers were saner than the survivors or not.

But even in this abyss where you couldn't even see your hand in front of your very eyes, there was a little star - A beautiful angel radiating brightness and warmth, someone who was somehow able to guide everyone's straying souls with her benevolence.

In reality, she was merely a survivor, not the little lantern from an angler fish's head, but she treated everyone with such an untainted kindness...It was beautiful, and yet, unrequited for most parts. Everyone was still putting their own lives above all - And who could condemn them? - Perhaps their cowardice, for the girl preferred to save her fellow survivors as much as possible, even if that oftentimes assured her place on the hook, to be a sacrificial lamb for the Entity.

On the other hand, she rarely ended up on the hook - Most killers prefer to kill her themselves, instead of letting her become pray for the horrible Entity who tortured so many of them for refusing to cooperate - The Trapper, Evan MacMillan - He knew the best, with those hooks digging into his flesh, impossible to extract. He was the first to protect this girl. It wasn't much, but if he had to, he'd rather give her a swift, painless death, than seeing her without that serene, angelic smile on her face, as the Entity feeds on the last bits of her soul's beauty, the last parts of her humanity.

The other Killers were confused at the Trapper's actions, but little by little, they began to understand why this girl was so precious and special - And this domino effect hit Rin Yamaoka next, with Y/N stopping in the middle of a chase and taking off her jacket, just as Rin was about to butcher her with her katana, and she smiled, extending it to her. 'You must be cold' she said, realising that the Spirit was merely wearing a few bandages, not even her school uniform, or her kimono.

The ghost girl was shaken up by this, and told the others at the killer camp, but they just shrugged it off - Rin was a little girl who faced close to no kindness, they weren't surprised she was so taken aback by such a feat. That is, until Adiris, in a particularly terrible day, when everyone at the camp was staying away from her, as her profane censer wasn't able to cover the stench of rotting flesh - Y/N came over, taking out a small yet elegant glass bottle with pink liquid on it, spraying some on her - And now, The Plague smelled of roses and vanilla - 'You can come to me for perfume whenever you want, I always carry some with me!' she grinned at the Babylonian High Priestess, before leaving back to the survivor's camp site, leaving the ancient God symbol to stare with her mouth agape at the girl.

These words began to spread, and it was no surprise when the killers saw Susie clinging and begging her Legion friends to spare Y/N, for she was there to hug away her worries more than once, to tell her sweet words, to play with her hair and play the guitar whatever songs she wanted to hear, to get reminded of her home - She was so home sick that she freaked out, but now she was better, thanks to Y/N - 'I know you miss home, but sometimes, home is where your best friends are, and all three of them are here!' she tried to encourage the cute pink-haired girl who could only squeal and hug her new friend.

Even Ghostface wasn't exempt from falling to her charms, and they would often take silly selfies and mess around, making fun of the old horror movie tropes and doing lots of puns and pranks - So much that she even got his trust to be told about the Danny/Jed thing, and how he began his killer profession - 'You're a very talented photographer, Danny! You deserved all that recognition you got, both as a journalist, and as a killer!'

And very soon, Y/N found herself in the crushing arms of an overprotective Anna, humming her mother's lullaby together with walking through the forest, Y/N making flower crows for all the female killers at the camp site, and little by little, she somehow managed to worm her way under everyone's skins.

Y/N was the survivor with the highest survivability percentage, and maybe the Entity sometimes got pissed off, but at least she still got killed sometimes, so who cares? Well, that was soon to change as soon as a new Killer was added to this sick game - Pyramid Head, the terror of Silent Hill, as Cheryl, the new Survivor, called him - or The Executioner, as he was known now. He was ruthless, merciless, grotesque - He had his own criteria of killing, his own moral compass, ethics, conscience and understanding of the concept of life and death. Nothing that could compare to the visions of humans, clearly - Everything was gravitating around Divine Retribution and Justice, but the from the outside, he was nothing but a killing machine.

He would kill everyone and anyone that crosses his path, without fail.

Y/N felt like her fortune ended completely the second she found herself in the new, overly cramped map, with Pyramid Head as the killer - She couldn't help but run around like a spazzic meerkat, trying to find and fix as many generators as possible, without having to get face to face with the walking hazard...

Only to run past a stuck Pyramid Head.

Slowly backtracing her steps, she saw the mountain of a man with his metal pyramid stuck in the frames a low window which he tried to walk over. He was trashing like a raged bull trying to attack a matador, but it was clear he was getting nowhere with this.

"H-Hey, u-uhm...Need some help?" she asked in a soft, careful voice, almost like a meek cat trying to test the waters, but in return, he started groaning even louder from the wrath he wanted to unleash upon the whole world. "Okay, uhm...I think I saw a can of vaseline in one of the chests around. I'll go fetch it and I'll come back for you. Don't move." she said, only to then realise how horrible that sounded, considering the situation, and it only seemed to anger the killer. "...I'm sorry, ignore me, I'm an idiot." she slapped herself pretty harshly before bolting out of there trying to find the chest.

However, Y/N cursed herself for not having perfectly memorised the whole map by heart already, since she found the vaseline can after the 3rd chest, and then, it took quite a while to find the bloody window that got the killer stuck - And by the time she got there, she was dead tired. "Okay, I'm here, I found the vaseline! Let's try to get you out of here." Y/N muttered as she put her feet on the low window pane to get to his level. "If it's not too much trouble, could you please hold onto me? I can't balance myself with both hands occupied, and I'd rather not fall." she explained as she opened the vaseline can, only to shiver as she felt two big, strong hands getting a firm grip on her hips. It was almost...Endearing, were she not too busy trying to get the killer unstuck. She kept massaging the metal edge, trying to push and pull, also praying to whatever deity that existed in her human world that she had her tetanus shot done on time - Until finally, she was able to get hear a loud screech, like a pop, and the killer got unstuck, and in the process, he stumbled backwards, while Y/N fell down on her butt.

"Ouchie..." she muttered, rubbing her back and sides to take away the pain surging through her body. "Are you okay?" she asked, almost intuitively, without realising it at first, until she heart a low grunt that brought her back to reality. "O-Oh...! You have glass shards stuck in your side! And you're bleeding too! Hold up, let me help." she hurried to his side, while the killer merely stiffened, feeling her delicate, slender fingers tracing his body, while he heaved and slouched his shoulders from the repressed wrath. "It may sting a bit, and I'm really sorry, but I promise it will be better soon." her voice was so motherly and warm, which also resonated in her actions, as she gingerly took a water bottle and imbued some tissues with it, to wipe away the blood smearing down his skin as she extracted the glass shards, and then..."This is grandma's marigold ointment. It's really good, and it smells nice." she explained as she carefully smeared a thick layer of the yellow ointment on the biggest wounds, while the little ones were covered by smiley-flower patterned plasters. They were cute, and colourful, and they never failed to make her smile. "Okay, there we go, all better! I hope you'll feel better very soon!" her voice got a tiny bit more cheerful and upbeat.

It made the Killer think about a trillion things, as he stepped in front of her, towering over her like the Empire states building next to a smiling pomeranian. What was with this girl? Why did she help a killer? And why did he feel so...Warm inside? He could sense a foreign kind of luminosity, a naivite and innocence that he only witnessed in children and animals. This woman in front of him was untainted by the darkness and evil of the world.

It didn't matter how many hardships she's been through, or how much sadness she had to endure - Her soul remained as pure as any snowdrop, as the first snow of winter, as the fleece of a baby lamb who let out its first 'meeeeh' to its mamma sheep.

He couldn't allow this human to be maimed in any way - Not by the world, not by the Entity, and certainly not by him. - Screw the Entity, Pyramind Head kills by his own rules, and now, he was blessed to be faced with a human who bore no real hatred for her peers, or for the world, despite the horrible situation she was thrown into.

He didn't understand, obviously, especially as he remembered the myriad of abominations that lurked through Silent Hill, all of them created by the torment of humans - The very torment that distorted their own reality, which resulted in him needing to solve the purpose as The Executioner - Eradicating the world of all evil.

"Th-This sword is so heavy...H-How can you carry this around like that...?! Your muscles must be so strained and sore...Y-You really need a massage, I'm sure." she stuttered as she tried to lift the much taller and heavier sword from the ground, only for the brute to simply bend and pick it up with extreme ease, putting the girl to shame with her complete lack of strength. "Hehe...You're really strong. I'm embarrassed now." she chuckled softly, scratching the back of her neck.

Before she could leave or do anything else, Pyramid Head picked her up by the throat, careful not to hurt her or restrict her air intake - I mean, how else was he supposed to carry her so he wouldn't hurt her with his metal head or sword? - and it was pretty clear she didn't feel any malevolence from him, as she clinged on his forearm, trying to keep herself up, only to be dumped on top of the hatch, as the killer pointed towards it, so she would leave.

"O-Oh...! Thank you so much! You're really kind! I really appreciate this...I-I know it probably doesn't matter much to you, since you'll be doing this over and over again with all the survivors...But I really appreciate you for your kind gesture, and I appreciate you for being so nice with me. Thank you. Take care!" her dazzling smile lit the whole place up, but he couldn't talk, nor could he tell her how he should be the one thanking her for showing him that, despite the hundreds and thousands of years he had to roam the 'Earth' and execute the injust, miracles still existed.

As soon as she reached the survivor's camp, everyone cheered for her, asking how in the world could she have escaped the wrath of the butcher. "Oh, but he wasn't that bad. In fact, he's much more humane than I anticipated! I think he has a beautiful, blooming heart!" okay, she's lost it - the other survivors thought - but even so, she's always been a bit...Out of it, so who cares?

It took quite a while for the other three survivors to reach the camp, all bloody, in fact, like the new killer, who dragged himself with the same menace to the Killers' camp. "How the hell did you manage to survive?!" they yelled at her in utter shock, seeing that she got out of there unscratched. "Oh, you see...I found the hatch." she shrugged simply, not wanting to give away that the person who massacred those three was a soft one and he basically threw her down the hatch to her safety.

As she took a twig to roast a marshmallows, she noticed how Pyramid Head was standing much farther away from the rest of the killers - She knew that silent killers were bound to stay away from the more obnoxious one, remembering how Michael Myers almost killed Ghostface and The Legion at least a dozen times - But this time...He seemed kinda...Lonely? So Y/N took the matters into her own hands, roasted another marshmallow in another twig, and when it was done, she went to the killer's camp, calling out the lonely one's name - She has no idea why, but he actually followed her, pushing her further deep into the forest, until he was sure nobody was going to hear, see or interrupt them...

"Hey. You seemed pretty lonely out there...I thought you could use a friend. Thank you again for what you did at the trial...Here, this is a marshmallow. I don't think you've had many before...Cheryl told me of that horrible place you had to live in...So I hope this will make your day a bit better!" Y/N extended one of her hands towards him, so he could take the marshmallow - And a long, black tongue erupted from underneath the pyramid, snatching away the fluffy marshmallow and gulping it in one go.

What the hell was he turning into?

A towering man built of pure muscle, wrath and divine justice, with a pyramid representing the evil of humanity burdening his body, and a sword taller and heavier than the average human being constantly dragged in one of his hand...He now was a slave to a cute, innocent girl who was putting flower plasters on his minuscule wounds that would heal in a heartbeat regardless - He saved this girl who was now offering his these soft, squishy things that tasted overly sugarly, just like her upbeat and cheerful personality - If he could eat her, he was sure she would taste even sweeter than this - A sickish kind of sweet, that is.

She was indeed a beautiful angel in this tragic hell. But he didn't wait to snatch the second marshmallow either.

"Ah...! You liked it, didn't you? Well...Next time, I promise I'll give you more!" she grinned at him the same way a princess would to her chivalrous knight who saved her. The since he couldn't talk, silence took over them - It wasn't an uncomfortable one, per se, but it made it feel as if the conversation was over. "W-Well...I'll guess I'll see you around! Take care and I hope to see you again soon!" she waved cutely, trying to turn around back to her camp, only to feel a rough hand on her shoulder, turning her around and urging her to stop and wait for him and he went deep into the forest, leaving her alone and undefended by the potential malevolent forces of the forest.

When he returned, however, he stepped right in front of her, creating the perfect shade as he towered over her - Then he kneeled in front of her, so he would reach her eye sight, then he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and put a beautiful pink flower - As pink as the blush that started creeping on her face - He wanted to see her luminous face better, to highlight her dazzling smile and her glimmering eyes as the warm, silver light of the mother moon caressed her face.

Y/N felt her heart picking up the pace - It was beating so much faster than ever before - But this time, it wasn't out of fear or anything negative...It was something good. Something she never felt in her life, especially with her human acquaintances from back home. None was as chivalrous and gentle with her as this butcher of tormented souls - The bringer of justice, the merciless Executioner who was supposed to end the life of every living being that would cross his path.

It was insane how every Yin finds its Yang, even if that comes in the form of a little lamb of a small, frail girl, and a huge abomination of a brute man who knows nothing but death, bloodshed and carnage. It was truly crazy how opposites attract, and here she was, holding the killers large hands and gingerly putting them on her face, leaning into his touch - She felt safer now than ever in her life - Now, in the arms of an ancient killer.

An Angel and A Demon brought together in a perfect union.

As she leaned down, she touched the metal of the pyramid where she anticipated his forehead would be with her own forehead, and closing her eyes, she finally felt herself calming down. There was no need for words, actions spoke louder than anything, and she appreciated it...She appreciated him.

"Thank you." she whispered to him, knowing that yes, even though nobody else would hear it anyway, it was much more intimate than anything she ever experienced.

She was hooked.

Hope you liked my completely shameless pun, I couldn't stop it, especially after the pain I went through trying to write this...3 freaking times.

Yay.

#dead by daylight #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight imagine #dbd #dbd x reader #dbd imagine #silent hill #silent hill x reader #silent hill imagine #pyramid head #pyramid head x reader #pyramid head imagine #red pyramid #red pyramid x reader #red pyramid imagine

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nemeseos-noctua · 4 years

Note

Hi! Could i request hcs for Diluc and Xiao with a reader who is shy? Thank you!

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: xiao, diluc (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: a few swears in diluc’s! (it’s like one or two)

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: this is actually my first tumblr post.... ive been super busy with school, sports, and other stuff. sorry! ill try to write more in the future! (constellations has been doing everything so far since i still dont know how tumblr works lol)

also, these are stupid long... and for what.

adventuring was a lot for you to process

okay, so maybe having your own Benny’s Adventure Team was not great while traveling through Dragonspine and Liyue

too many of everything

you ended up getting really beat up.

after passing through Mingyun Village, you could see Wangshu Inn and decided to stay there until you were healed up

you always found comfort in the night sky, so you went out there every day

It was your fifth night staying at the inn before you saw a short male standing on the balcony where you would usually be. Strange. You’d never seen anyone like that before.

You seemed to have caught him off guard when you started to approach him since he jumped a little.

Taking a closer look at his face, you studied it a bit. He had golden eyes and dark teal hair that seemed to frame his face perfectly, accompanied by lighter streaks of the same colour.

Pretty... you thought, completely entranced by this strange man (boy?).

“Ah, sorry. I’m probably disturbing you... I’ll go now...”

He blinked.

god he’s in love

not even romantic love but he loved you like the past adepti

xiao would see so many couples over the years that he’s been at the inn and absolutely hated them, but this??

okay it’s a different type of love but damn it felt nice

You started to turn and walk back to your room before hearing his voice.

“Stay.”

STAY??? WE MOVING KINDA FAST BUT ALRIGHT PRETTY BOY !!

On the outside, you were cooler than a cucumber. The inside? Chaos. Millions of thoughts raced throughout that little head of yours.

“Only if you’re fine with it...”

Turning back around, you took a few steps forward before noticing that he wore a lot of accessories on him. One of them being a mask that resembled one of the Vigilant Yaksha’s in that one book you read as a kid. Probably just a fan or something.

You reached the balcony, taking a spot next to him while also keeping some space between the two of you. Leaning on the balustrade (the railing of a balcony), you rested your head on top of your arms.

A comfortable silence was placed in the middle of the two. A silent breeze blew, adding to the mellow mood.

“What brings you here?” the pretty stranger suddenly inquired, gaining a small jolt from your serene state. “Did I scare you? My apologies.”

“Oh, uh, it’s nothing...” You lifted your head to look out at the lands of Dihua Marsh. Seeing Dragonspine in the distance gave you a chill. Those were not the greatest memories. The small movement didn’t go unnoticed by the boy.

“You’re an adventurer?”

“Oh... yeah, I am... I’m not that experienced yet, though...”

for SOME REASON... this man felt even more inclined to protect you

you still had a fair amount of bandages wrapped around your limbs, so it was clear that you were injured

GOD IF HE COULD JUST HUG YOU RIGHT THERE AND THEN

but he did not.

he has restraint.

he is a good boy.

“I met a traveler that wasn’t very experienced either.” This fact shocked you. So he has been here for a while... but why hadn’t you seen him before? Does he just... disappear into thin air..?

the answer is yes

he does indeed do that

but that’s besides the point.

“Oh... that’s nice...”

It was getting late. The moon was starting to lower back down and the lids of your eyes were getting heavier and heavier by the minute. You let out a yawn, but it was muffled by your head being buried in your arms once again.

“You should go get some rest.” You hummed.

Then, a thought popped into your head.

“If you don’t mind me asking... what’s your name?”

Even though you weren’t facing him, you could feel his piercing gaze on you. It wasn’t uncomfortable at all, but gave you a feeling of protection.

“Xiao.” You mouthed his name to yourself silently. It was nice.

“Goodnight, Xiao. I hope that we can do this again soon.”

“Goodnight to you...”

“(Y/N).”

“...(Y/N).”

you were a cryo catalyst that tried to fight against some cryo slimes alone

hint: that was a bad idea

my favourite elemental reaction was immune!

literally... you couldn’t even do anything to them

and you were getting beat up.

badly.

for plot convenience you were at the lake next to Dawn Winery

“Shit...”

At this point, you’d been fending these slimes off for around a quarter of an hour now and you were getting tired now.

Your dumbass tried to drown them in the lake but forgot that they immediately froze any moisture underneath them. You tried attacking them but everything you could do was inflict the freeze effect (against CRYO slimes).

You literally could not do anything. Time to get frozen to death!

“Burn!”

WHAT???

Suddenly, a big fire bird swept up the slimes that had been occupying you for the last 20 minutes or so, effectively taking them out.

At this point, the only thing that kept you standing was your adrenaline, which quickly ran out as you dropped to the ground in exhaustion. You let out a sigh, finally free from those damned slimes. You will have your revenge one day... just not today.

While you were resting on the ground, your saviour had been standing there, watching you calm down. And so you looked up to be greeted by probing crimson orbs, which definitely startled you.

Your saviour was.... Master Diluc. Master Diluc Ragnvindr, wealthiest man in Mondstadt. Him. In front of you.

“OH! I, um, Master Diluc! What brings you here?”

‘WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE??’ HE LIVES HERE THOUGH??

“I was taking a stroll around the winery and happened to see you in your own predicament.”

You attempted to stand up, though your legs failed you as you only flopped back onto the dirt.

diluc doesn’t wanna admit it but that was unbelievably stupid, cute, and endearing

okay and what if this emo boy doesn’t like people

he still has feelings too >:(

“I’ll stay here with you so you won’t get attacked again. So relax.”

Mans was telling you to “relax” while you were in the presence of a literal typhoon here. He was so brooding and scary-looking all the time that you couldn’t even try to relax.

A few minutes pass and the sound of water rushing was the only thing keeping you two company.

It was nice to enjoy nature, but the tension between the two of you was still higher than ever.

To break this silence, you had tried to stir up some small talk.

“The weather is nice today, huh...”

He grunted, which seemed to be a regular response of his. You started to notice this after a few questions like “how’s your day been” or “have any plans today?”

Not that you were genuinely interested. You bet that he could tell that you were trying to make it less awkward by responding at all, but it just didn’t help at all.

You were probably sitting for a good 10 minutes before deciding to stand up again, in which you were successful. But could you walk back to the city?

That was debatable.

You definitely felt and looked unstable, so being the gentleman he was raised to be, Diluc reluctantly bent down and slung your shoulder over his.

The height difference between the two of you was pretty big, so he ended up just carrying you to his place. As goofy as it looked, it got the job done.

― riri ✨

#genshin x reader #diluc x reader #xiao x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #genshin #genshin xiao #genshin diluc #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact #diluc scenarios #diluc #gi diluc #genshin impact xiao #xiao #ririsann

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taeslovehandles · 4 years

Photo

IF I WERE YOU CH 1 - LOVE

What if your significant other had the ability to switch body frames with you? What if you were too big to ride your favourite roller coaster or couldn’t fit in some old clothes you wanted to wear today? Well, Jungkook could do literally that. Switch Jimin’s and his body frame to help his boyfriend love himself the way he was while never feeling insecure or like he was missing out in life due to his big appetite and wide body.

[read on ao3]

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Click “read more” to read this story on tumblr!

“Sooo, just to get this right. Why exactly are we going to the beach again?” Jimin asked as he held his swim trunk in front of the mirror. It was looking a few sizes too small by now which caused the man to slightly frown. Calm down Jimin-ah, it’s just the beach. It’s okay.

“Because you keep avoiding going literally anywhere with me and your boyfriend wants to visit nice places with you once in a while.” Jungkook pouted. His voice coming out of the bathroom.

“You know why... I mean-” They had this conversation almost every week and honestly? Jimin had no idea how Jungkook hadn’t given up on them yet. But he always talked to Jimin, reassuring him that he was beautiful no matter his size. But to Jimin it was a bit different.

You see, Jimin and his weight had a pretty complicated relationship. Jimin wasn’t a feedee but rather a foodie. He just loved to eat good food. Most of that food was deep fried and coated in a thick crunchy and oily layer of seasoning dipped in mayonnaise or ketchup but he loved that shit. But eating what he wanted, all the time, had done significant changes to his body. Jimin had always been a bit on the chubby side but he definitely did not count as ‘chubby’ anymore with reaching 500 pounds soon.

His wide bottom was mostly if not always in the way of things. Just yesterday one of his favourite cups shattered and broke as he turned around to grab a cube of sugar to go with his coffee and -smack-. It was a des-ASS-ter. Yeeted that cup right off the counter with his ass.

Anyway, you could say that Jimin loved to eat a lot and he was fine with his body and his changes. Didn’t even mind that he often was out of breath or began to huff and struggle by the most simple tasks like getting socks on with his big belly in his way. But the issue was society. Jimin hated being outside and surrounded by people. He didn’t like the looks he got, the muttering and chatting behind his back. It made him feel anxious and that is why he and Jungkook were not often outside. Of course Jungkook respected Jimins decision but he also believed that his boyfriend often thought things that were straight up wrong or not true.

Just the other day ago, when the young man had finally talked Jimin into going outside with him to go grocery shopping, since he wanted to bake a cake and needed Jimin to come with him to pick the toppings for it, he had noticed that Jimin had began to stiffen up, his muscles tensed and just like that he was like switched out.

Jimin behaved differently when they were in public, didn’t even kiss Jungkook or hug him in fear he would embarrass his boyfriend. Obviously this was a thought the large man had never told him. It would definitely end in a long debate and conversation Jimin simply didn’t want to have.

Back to the story, so Jungkook was going down the aisle to search for what they needed when he noticed two girls talking about a really good show he had recently seen an ad for online. They walked by and spoke about the funny trailer which ended in giggling. After that Jimin had been even weirder.

It got so bad that Jungkook had to literally beg Jimin to tell him what was wrong and why he had gotten so annoyed and irritated until he finally spat it out. For some reason he had thought the girls were talking bad about him and his figure and were laughing about him. Which was ridiculous, Jungkook had heard what the two had spoken about. But nothing he would say, eased Jimins mind.

You could say Jimin himself was his biggest enemy. He heard things no one said and just created this illusion of others judging him the moment they saw him, which wasn’t true either. But Jungkook was tired of repeating himself daily. He just hoped he knew what to do to help Jimin out. Some way to ease his pain in a way that would make him feel better and more self aware and just happy? Because god, Jimin was gorgeous to Jungkook. Who cares what Karen behind the counter thought? Fuck her then.

“You know I am not forcing you to go right?” Jungkook made sure once more. Yes he sometimes came off as very demanding but he just wanted Jimin to be happy and live his life without being stuck inside all day.

“I know, I know…” Jimin sighed as he pulled his shirt off. He grabbed for his lower belly roll and heaved it upwards. “I don’t think this thing will fit in my old swim trunk anymore Gugg.”

“Mhm, did you try it on yet? Maybe we can buy a new one before we go? I’ll go grab the suncream real quick.” As badly as Jungkook wanted to see Jimin put on the tight swim trunk, he wasn’t someone that stared. Of course he was allowed too and Jimin was more than okay with it but the young man always made sure that Jimin never felt like an object to him. They had talked about Jungkooks preferences about his ideal body type and what he liked. So it was important for Jungkook to always make Jimin feel loved for himself and not his fat. Obviously his fat was a big turn on for him and Jimin knew that, but it was Jimin himself that Jungkook had fallen in love with back in university.

“I’ll try... Remind me once I become president to make a new law of no clothes needed outside. And charge anyone that wears socks.” Jimin joked. He really hated to bend down and do literally anything clothing related there. His belly was always in the way of everything and it was exhausting.

“I’ll note it down.” A chuckle came from the room nearby together with some rustling through some bags. Where had they put that damn sun cream. “Do you know where we put the sun blocker Babe?”

“Uhm- if it’s not in one of the -huff- bags it should be -huff- in the bathroom...oh fuck these -huff- pants man…” Jimin was getting frustrated.

“Do you need help?” Jungkook peeked into their bedroom with a worried face.

“I- Can you just pull these up while I lift my gut?” Jimin huffed out of breath.

“Sure can do!” Walking over and doing what he had been told, Jungkook made quick work of the tight swim trunk. “Oh boy…”

“That bad?”

“I mean, you can feel it right?”

“You mean that my thighs are too fat for the trunk to get all the way up?...Yup.” Jimin tried to catch his breath as he sat down on the bed and let himself fall on the back. “Why don’t we just buy one online and not go today?”

“But tomorrow will be rainy…” Another pout from Jungkook. God damn it, these stupid pants seriously. Now that Jimin FINALLY had agreed to go out. IN THE SUMMER HEAT, it was the pants ruining it.

“Okay listen- uhm. Don’t take this the wrong way okay?”

“That only sounds like I will take it the wrong way, but say it.” Jimin was already annoyed, so he might as well hear what Jungkook had to say.

Said man was fumbling with his hands. “So- uhm… since- uhm. Your gut hangs so low… technically no one would see anyway? A-And we could just go to an area without as many people? I mean it is covering your ass… or uhm. Actually, nevermind this is a dumb idea.”

“I mean. The first one is already dumb, might as well spit it out. And no. I won’t wear pants that don’t fit, are you nuts?” He crossed his arms.

“I told you, you’d get mad…” The young man scratched the back of his head as he went and pulled the pants back down from Jimins legs to throw them away. Not like Jimin would slim down anytime soon and they’d magically fit again.

“Tell me the other idea…” He insisted.

“No seriously, my mouth spoke before my brain gave consent. I do-”

“Well I want to know though.”

-Sigh-

“Promise me you won’t get mad?”

“I promise.”

Jungkook fumbled with his fingers when he said it. “We could just go to the naked area at the beach… then no one cares… Ouch!” Jimin had kicked him in his side slightly.

“Are you- I can’t believe -THIS- was even an idea you had!? After I can’t even stand being anywhere other people clothes you think THAT would make it easier!?” Jimins nose was flaring. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if Jungkook even understood what he thought, no matter how often he explained it.

“You promised to not get mad!”

“I am not mad, I kept my promise.”

“You just hit me!?”

“Deserved. Dumb ideas get smacked.” Jimin gave him an eyebrow wiggle and heaved himself up. “Now what do we do?”

“I don’t know…” Jungkook really wanted to go to the beach with his love.

“I wish I could just like.. Snap my finger and switch body size with you. Because I bet you, you’d go to the beach with me, if you didn’t have the issue of others watching you right?” He added.

“Well yeah obviously. I’d even go naked.” He joked.

But that was exactly what was about to happen. The moment Jungkook had snapped his finger and spoke out his wish the both of them felt hotter than before.

“Did it- just get warmer in here or-?” Jimin asked, confused. His skin was tickling slightly, what was going on?

“No, I’m hot too… does your body tickle like mine do- what the… Babe do you see this!?” Jungkook held his slowly expanding stomach as it bulged out, looking more and more like the man had swallowed a beach ball. “Uhm… what is… going on?”

“I don’t know? Oh god, my body tickles too though…” Jimin since he was a lot heftier did not notice a few pounds missing, so he didn’t notice how his thighs and belly were slowly decreasing in size as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“I- I’m swelling up! Wait, wait Jimin are you losing any weight can you feel anything?” Jungkook didn’t believe it but at the same time what was happening right now seemed out of a movie.

“Wait. I am! I- my belly is shrinking… what the… Why though? Because of what you said just now? Is this actually happening!?” Jimin was speechless as he watched how his entire body was getting slimmer and slimmer. He had lost at least 200 pounds by now. The shirt he was wearing was so loose on him now it looked like he had accidentally taken a pillow or blanket and mistook it for a shirt.

Which also meant that someone else was about to gain all of that. “Wait, if I am losing the weight and you are gaining it we should-”

-Rip-

“Take your clothes off…” Jimin finished his sentence.

“Well- too late for that now. And this was my favourite jeans man…” Jungkook watched as his thick thighs began to grow out of the holes his clothes began to create as the fabric kept ripping open more and more.

-tear-

“Shit, Gugg, get your shirt off, hurry!” Jimin stood up and almost fell over, he wasn’t used to getting off that easily and had used too much strength to get up which almost catapulted him forward and towards his boyfriend who was struggling to get his shirt off. It had already cut into his double belly and was now rolling itself upwards until his big moobs were stretching the fabric too much and the shirt ended up tearing apart as well.

“Oh man… oh wow…” Jungkook was so speechless right now. He kept inspecting himself and watching intrigued how his entire body was swelling up in fat. How each and every body part was slowly engulfed and swallowed by fat. “Jesus there is so much of it!?”

“Welcome to my club, Babe.” Jimin joked and smacked Jungkooks big belly. “How does it feel being that heavy Gugg?” He was actually interested.

“It feels…” Jungkook swallowed thickly as he held his own belly up just to let it fall again, causing a loud smack of skin on skin. “Man, I mean- I knew the jiggling part would cause an ocean of jiggles but I had no idea you could feel ALL of that. Even the little ripples afterwards…” This was amazing. Jungkook was amazed.

“Oh you thought I was faking my moans when you began jiggling my fat to get me off? Hell nah- that shit feels amazing.” Jimin stood there proudly as he kept losing more and more weight. He was beginning to get bulky with some muscles.

“Well… it just sounded so unreal? I believe you now- Oh shit, oh god…” Jungkook didn’t even know where to look anymore. Each part that grew needed to be explored but the weight was getting to him now. Jesus he was so heavy… he.. He couldn’t stand that much anymore. “Damn, this is how bad your legs hurt from just standing?”

“Yup.”

“Wow… I would carry you everywhere if I could then. I guess I understand why you love things to sit or lay on.” He giggled...well attempted too. But just giggling was exhausting while standing, so the man waddled. “Oh god, I- I have to walk with spread legs like that…?”

“Yeah. Can’t walk normally if there is fat in between. But you’ll get used to it.” Jimin soothed.

“Woah… -huff- Okay this is really exhausting.” Jungkook could feel his massive bubble butt jiggling as he waddled to the bed and sat down. His body sank deep down into the mattress as he caught his breath and just touched himself all over.

“Hey, if you need a minute I can let you be alone with your body you know.” Jimin pulled another joke.

“Excuse me for being amazed by this and have to investigate my own body that literally just swelled up 400 pounds.” The other poked out his tongue towards Jimin.

“Well, how do you like it?” Jimin was curious. Because he himself felt great right now. He began jumping and sitting on the ground with his head resting on his knees. Wow, it’s been so long since he could do any of that.

“I feel great! Well, I feel sweaty and exhausted but besides that I really like it. What about you muscle man?”

“I can see my feet.” Jimin grinned.

“Been some decades, Huh?... Ouch! God stop hitting me. Now it’s unfair, I can’t even reach you!” Jungkook pouted with his cute, thick and chubby cheeks.

“You look so cute with a round moon face Guggie, Naw! And you deserve every slap you get. No taking back.” Jimin had to giggle as he effortlessly got up standing and smiled. ��So, are you going to the beach now or what?”

It made Jungkook happy, that Jimin seemed so eager to go now. “Well… I’m pretty sure since we switched bodies that your old pants won’t fit me either.”

“We could go naked.” Jimin grinned and gave his boyfriend a kiss on his forehead.

“I- I mean… but-”

“What? How did you say? Your belly hangs so low, no one can see anything anyway!” Jimin repeated in a mocking tone.

“Okay I admit it! It was the dumbest idea I ever had! Happy? Let’s not go naked…” Jungkook felt betrayed by his own self. How could he have suggested something so dumb.

“Glad we agree now. So. I got an idea-” Jimin opened up their cupboard in the search of big pants he knew would still fit. Or at least should still fit. Since the man was always or most of the time at home he also didn’t wear a lot of outdoor clothes. “Try these on.” He threw a pair of sweatpants at him.

“They shouuuld fit. I’m not sure. They did fit last time.” Jimin sat down and began helping Jungkook who seemed to struggle. “You don’t know how to get this on, do you?”

“No…” He pouted. “How do you even… it’s like my belly is an End Boss!? How am I supposed to reach my feet and get these damn pants on? How do you do it?” Now that Jungkook was 500 pounds he realized that most things did not work the way he may thought they would. He couldn’t simply bend down and get his feet into the damn sweatpants. There was just too much fat in the way.

“Rule number one. Don’t bend down without taking a deep breath. So, see you grab the legs of the pants here and then you have to sway them like this and catch them at the right time with your foot. It’s really hard to do and sometimes you sit there for 15 minutes trying to get your pants on but I am here to help you. But I want you to try it out first.” Was Jimin enjoying the view and how his boyfriend struggled with all of his weight? Yes, yes he did. His cheeks were slightly red and his loins were tingling.

“-huff- Okay… okay I- I think -huff- Ah damn it! -huff-”

“-huff- ah so close! -huff-”

“No! Pants! -huff- get -huff- back here!”

“Do you want my help?” Jimin asked with a smirk.

Jungkook just looked at him in disbelief. He was beyond exhausted. “I -huff- yeah. If we want to -huff- go soon, then yes…” He huffed out. Jesus this was all so exhausting.

His boyfriend grabbed the pants and pulled them over one swollen leg, up to Jungkooks knee. Then came the next pant leg. “I never realized how fat my cankles were actually.” Jimin notifies as he pokes and grabs at said body part.

“I love your cankles. I love everything about you…” Jungkook jumps in.

“Well, now you got my fat. Make out with yourself, you don’t need me anymore.” Jimin was joking but his boyfriend did not like these kinds of jokes and Jungkooks next sentence came out sternly.

“No. Because I love you Jimin. I love you for you and not just your body. Don’t make such jokes.” He slightly smacked him on his shoulder.

“Ouuch, Okay, Okay! Party pooper.” But Jimin smiled. He’d respect not making such jokes again.

…

After half an hour Jungkook was clothes with his sweatpants, a shirt and Jimin had decided to already out suncream on him because it would be harder to do it later because he knew Jungkook would maybe not admit it, but standing just to get suncream on you was also exhausting.

They had prepared blankets, some fruits and food together with fresh water yesterday, which Jimin shuffled around to get in their bag as well. Some sun hats and of course a beach ball to play with. The older hadn’t been so excited to go out since forever. He simply didn’t feel the weight of eyes staring at him anymore and it was a refreshing experience.

Jungkook simply didn’t care if he got looks. Their house wasn’t far from the beach but it was definitely exhausting to waddle there as a 500 pounder, that Jungkook figured out quite fast.

“Oh jesus… -huff- and you went -huff- grocery shopping -huff- with me…”

“Stop talking, it’ll make it worse. Just concentrate on putting one foot over another and walk. We are almost there!” Jimin tried to help. He was the ‘heavy people’ expert anyway.

For once listening, his boyfriend stopped talking and just concentrated on walking. It probably looked a bit weird that he was not wearing an actual swim trunk but they’d have to order one online for next time. And it’s not like it wasn’t allowed to go swimming in sweatpants.

“Are you okay? Do you need a break on that bench?” Jimin knew how exhausting it was and wanted to help as much as he could as he gently grabbed for Jungkooks arms and squeezed lightly.

“Y-Yeah.. -huff- rest… Phew…” Jungkook turned right and waddled towards the bench as he sat down slowly with a loud creak of the wood. He took a deep breath. “My god -huff-. I mean -huff- I heard you breathing -huff- but I had no idea -huff- THIS is how it feels… -huff- for you.”

“It’s quite a task for people like us to get literally anywhere. That’s why I often asked you how long the walk from the car to the restaurant would be, back when I still fit on those chairs because I didn’t want to end up there breathing like an exhausted and sweaty pig for everyone to look at.” Jimin kissed Jungkook on his lips. “Do you want me to get you a drink before we go down? Or Ice cream? I know I always get hungry walking, so…” Jimins smile was genuine.

“A soda sounds -huff- amazing actually. Let’s get ice-cream later? I -huff- really want to swim. I’m all -huff- sweaty.” Jungkook tugged on his shirt with two big dark circles between his arm and torso. His back was probably darker grey too from all the sweat. “Alright, I’ll get you some. Just stay here and get some rest Babe.” With that Jimin jumped up and swiftly walked over to one of the food carts to grab some soda.

That’s when Jungkook noticed it for the first time. How people were watching him, or speaking about it. How they took a glance and turned their head as soon as he locked eyes with them. How some spoke so loud that he was meant to hear their jokes or how their noses crunch up in disgust. It wasn’t a nice sight to see but Jungkook had the self esteem of a diamond. Nothing could cut through him, so he simply smiled back or waved when people did what they did. It didn’t bother him the slighted as he watched his boyfriend grabbing the soda and three HotDogs.

“Hey, sorry it took so long. Here is your soooda-” Jimin held it out for Jungkook to grab. “And I wanted to eat a HotDog, so I got two for you as well.” Another kiss on his forehead.

“Thanks Minnie.” Jungkook began chugging down the soda until it was half way finished when he bit a big chunk off of the HotDog. “Man I love these HotDogs they sell here.” Another big bite.

“Yeah, they are great!” Jimin wiggled his legs up and down as he sat on the long bench next to his love and looked around when he began to frown. “Hey uhm… we don’t have to sit here. We can just go down to the beach and ready everything up you know?” It were the stares Jimin noticed. They weren’t directed at him but at the person he loved the most, which almost felt even worse. He just wanted to punch them all.

“It’s fine Babe. I don’t care.” Jungkook was half way through the second HotDog by now.

“I know you say that, but we really can just-”

“No I mean it. I don’t care. I know you often say you don’t care but you do. You are thin right now, just enjoy it and ignore the others? Who are you living for?” Jungkook asks with a bit of sauce on his cheek.

“Myself…”

“Yes and that means?”

“It doesn’t matter what others think about me…”

“Exactly! Now let them stare at my hot ass body and be jealous. I feel amazing Minnie. So please enjoy the day okay? I am so excited to go swimming with you.” Jungkook gave him a lovingly squeeze to his thigh and kissed his cheek, with a bit of a huff, before finishing his HotDog and chugging down his soda.

“Alright, I’m ready. Let’s go!”

———————————————————————————————

A fluff one. Yay! Remember the snippet I shared? Kinda got more chapters now. I have some ideas. But this one will be written in my own pace, how I feel fit. Anyway enjoy my fluff readers <3

If you are wondering why I posted this one on tumblr as well to read. This is one fluff and doesn’t need trigger warnings. The hardcore stuff only goes to my ao3. So enjoy <3

#taeslovehandles #wg story #weight gain story #chubby bts #fat bts #fat jikook

93 notes · View notes

xmint-conditionx · 4 years

Text

《the emperor’s dagger》 ch3 | myg

❦ pairing: emperor!yoongi x concubine!reader ❦ w/c: 5.3k ❦ summary: after being caught, you and the emperor decide to let some distance come between you. after a week of being along with your thoughts, you finally meet each other again. this time, he has something special in store for you, but by the end of the night, you both find yourself doing something daring. ❦ tags/cw: 18+ please, smut, lots of angst in this one, pining, lots of backstory here, outdoor sex, penetrative sex, knife (sword?) play, very brief oral sex (f receiving). ❦ a/n: after literal MONTHS, i have finally added another chapter. this is actually me releasing it for a second time tonight because clearly the first time, tumblr hated it so much that it wouldn’t let it show up in searches. i really hope you all enjoy, and i plan to be uploading a new chapter every three weeks, my schedule permitting. anyway, enjoy the filth! luv yas! and let me know if you’d like to join the taglist; i’d be glad to add you ^_^

- minty <3

taglist: @jiminisnotavirgin @aretha170 @btstrash2013 @bbykoos @aquaalanah

“Your Majesty?” you hear a voice call from the end of the corridor.

It’s Jin.

You both freeze for a beat, and then simultaneously take a step back from each other. You avert your eyes; it feels like you might be spared a harsh reprimanding if you just look in the other direction, for some reason. You’re sure your guilt and embarrassment at being caught is displayed plainly on your face, though, despite your best efforts. You allow your eyes to rake up from the floor, over to Concubine Mother Kim, as he stands firmly in the panel of moonlight shining on the dark wooden floorboards. His hands are placed firmly on his hips and his face is stern; this isn’t a good sign. You gaze up at your emperor, whose embrace just moments ago made you feel so protected and hidden away from the problems of the real world. Who made you feel safe.

And his face is as shocked as yours.

“Concubine Mother,” the emperor says cooly, recovering more quickly than you, though you can see a tinge of pink flush his cheeks. He’s also blinking far too much. Jin regards him for a moment and then turns to speak to you.

“Please tell me that I did not make an exception for you to stay late, only for you to fool around with the king in secret.”

“Concubine Mother,” Emperor Min says, “I was just walking her back to the wing so--”

“Emperor Min, forgive me,” Jin says, not truly asking for forgiveness by the tone he’s carrying, “but you cannot truly believe I don’t see what I see.”

Emperor Min looks down and clenches his jaw.

“Off to bed,” Jin says firmly to you. The sting of forming tears tells you to avoid their gaze as you bow lightly to Jin, and then offer a slightly deeper one to the emperor. Quickly and quietly, you padd off to the bedchambers, not wanting either of them to catch the tear that spilled over. You want to look back so badly, but you stop yourself. You can’t even begin to imagine the trouble you’re both going to be in. You stop behind the archway of the shared bedroom and listen in on the hushed conversation.

“Concubine Mother,” the emperor begins, “she really did stay late at the market. She was walking back through the throne room and I stopped her so that we could speak.”

Jin scoffs, “Speak? Please. Surely you don’t take me as a fool. It has been noticed by a number of certain royal officials that you call on her often…”

The emperor sighs.

“I’ve been careful, Jin,” he assures him.

“Good. One more thing,” he says, “I told her that the guards would be briefed on her situation. There was no need for you to walk her to the dormitories.”

“I… I just wanted to,” the king muttered; you were barely able to hear it.

“I see,” Jin says, with a heavy pause, “Truly. Make no mistake, Your Highness. I see everything. And I understand more than you know.”

Silence.

“I see the way you look at her. The way she looks at you,” he continues, “It would behoove you, Your Majesty, to request some of the others more frequently. Other people… influential people may begin to notice…”

“Understood.”

You don’t know why but suddenly, the thought of the king being with his other concubines makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. This is part of your job; something that you are well used to by now. Or... you were.

“Concubine Mother?” the emperor asks, “Please don’t think she is causing trouble. This is on me.”

“Alright,” he says, “but I have to tell you that I love that girl like she’s my own family. Be careful with her.”

“As long as I am alive, no harm will come to her,” he says more firmly than anything else he’s said so far, “that is a promise.”

“Glad to hear it, Majesty.”

You walk as quickly and as silently as you can back to your bed, grabbing your night clothes from underneath and quickly changing into the loose gown. You put your daytime concubine clothing into the other basket for used clothing beneath the bed frame, and climb into your sheets. Casting a shadow in the moonlight draping on the side of the wall, you see Jin’s form pause for a moment at the open door frame before walking onward to his own private chambers. You really hope you aren’t going to be scolded badly for this.

You don’t sleep well.

The next day, the emperor keeps his distance from you, as expected. He normally keeps himself at arms length from you, but today he spares no suggestive and flirty glances. You can’t possibly be upset at that, given what happened last night, but your stomach does drop a little when you pass him and he purposely avoids your gaze. It looked like he was with officials again; he so easily wears his stress in the creases between his eyebrows.

It’s like this for several days, and you learn to swallow it. The distance is a healthy reminder of what reality is, and it makes the heartache easier.

As before when you wanted to have some distance from everything, you decide to spend your day reading out in the North Gardens. He hasn’t called for you in almost a week, and you’ve temporarily decided to halt lessons as well. It pains you, the separation, but it’s better this way. Safer, this way. The thick novel you hold is helping you escape your own circling thoughts. Although they’ve calmed dramatically over the past few days, they are stirred easily by being busy in the palace. Having to stay vigilant of where the king is at all times, lest you give too much away is exhausting. Seeing the places in the palace that remind you of him is heart-wrenching. Reading next to the soft trickle of the fountain is always a comfort, and it allows you to put your guard down and breathe. You’re deep into your book when the head of the palace guard strolls by.

“Jungkook, hi,” you say, “lovely to see you.”

“Likewise, miss,” the young man says, “I was hoping I would find you out here. I have something for you.”

“Oh?” you ask, leaning forward and marking the spot in your book before putting it down.

He discreetly hands you a scrap of parchment, folded neatly into a small triangle. You know who it’s from, so you slip it into a flap of your dress and tuck it underneath your waist sash without batting an eye. He never sends notes, you think to yourself as you look back up at Jungkook. The only other one you’d received was the first one that he himself had slipped to you.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” you say, after realizing that nobody can hear your conversation over the splash of the fountain and the chirp of the birds playing in it. He smiles back down at you, wisps of dark hair falling into his face. He is very young to be head of guard, especially for someplace as important as the royal palace, but he is exceptionally bright and extremely skilled in combat. If anyone had ever deserved a position, Jungkook deserved this one.

Jungkook has been an aide to you and the emperor for weeks now, in secret. He walked unannounced into the emperor’s bedchambers late one night, in an attempt to inform him of an urgent palace security matter, only to find the emperor instructing you with your practice sword how to properly parry to the air.

You had both been struck dumbfounded when the head of the royal palace guard had stopped in his tracks, mouth agape, digesting what was occurring in front of him. You were sure you were as good as dead.

You’ll never forget the feeling of relief when he spoke.

“She’d learn better if she were able to actually physically parry a sword, Your Majesty,” he had said with a cheeky smile.

It seems that more people than you had realized believe that a woman should have the right to defend herself, the head of the palace guard included. Jungkook was more than happy to help the two of you find a place to practice without worry of the noise escaping and exposing you both. You needed a way to practice outside of the palace walls, so that actual sword to sword contact could be made. It was Jungkook’s idea to change the guard routes to provide you both with an easy exit out of the back, but it was the emperor’s idea to meet in a small clearing in the woods, behind the palace and beyond its tall walls. He had confided to you the first night you were able to practice there that this is where he would come as a boy to practice alone. His father never liked for him to disappear, but he hated being watched all the time. This field was the only place he could be himself without the eyes of the whole kingdom on him. He had said it only felt right to teach his first student in this same place.

The first time your practice blade clashed with his under the stars had felt incredible. It was like you were truly learning to fight.

Now, in front of you, Jungkook doesn’t linger. He nods respectfully and continues strolling through the gardens as if he hadn’t come out here looking for you. You’re outside in broad daylight, after all. The man might be the head of the palace guard, but he still doesn’t take chances if he doesn’t have to. You decide to finish the chapter you’re on and then go back inside the palace to read your note, just to ensure you keep suspicion at bay. Even though you’re aching to see what Emperor Min has written to you.

He’s been under so much scrutiny lately that he’s been extremely stressed. That much is visible from his face alone, but there are whispers within the palace among the concubines about how his temper is getting shorter and shorter. You’re afraid of what that might mean for you, and the contents of the note.

What if he’s calling everything off? Could how he cares about you be a shadow to his overall responsibilities and appearance? It wouldn’t be unexpected, you’d just hoped… maybe it was different.

You’re on the end of the Northern Wing balcony when you find yourself alone enough to take the note from your waist sash and read it.

“My dove,” it says, “I hope you’re looking forward to practice this evening. I’ve got something exciting planned for you, since it has been so long since we’ve last practiced. Make sure you drink plenty of water.”

Quickly folding the paper again, you return it to your sash. You run over the possibilities in your mind, trying to imagine what he has thought of for you. A million scenarios rush through your head, each one more exciting than the last. Is he going to challenge you to keep a hand behind your back? What if he starts teaching you disarming techniques? Does he think you’re ready for ground fighting?

Really, none of that matters. You’re just glad to return to your nightly routine. You’ve missed him.

You go back into the concubine wing and conduct the rest of your day in preparation of whatever it is you’re going to have to endure tonight. You go through your tasks almost shaking with excitement. Sending a note is risky, so whatever he has planned must be intense.

You arrive at the clearing a little earlier than usual; your nerves are so on edge that if you had stayed in your bed any longer, you feel like you would have exploded.

You take the moment to enjoy the light breeze and the sound it makes as it rushes through the tall grass and the even taller trees. The sky is beautifully clear, and the moon, though not full, is bright enough to light up everything around you. In the far distance, above the top of the pines, you can just make out the very top of the royal palace. The gold ornamentation gently glimmers in the night.

It’s not long before you spot your emperor’s pale skin as he walks through the clearing. As he emerges from the treeline, you can just make out that he is carrying a large bundle. The way his long cloak sways around him as he walks is enrapturing, the grass parting and bowing to your king as he steps forward.

“I’ll admit,” you say as he gets close enough to hear you speak, “When I read your note, countless scenarios went through my head. None of them involved a package.”

“You’re a bright woman, dove, but I still have tricks up my sleeve,” he says with a wink as he tosses the wrapped bundle lightly onto the grass between you. It’s like nothing at all has changed in the past week. He takes the two sheathed practice swords off of the canvas and drops them down onto the ground at his side.

“Well,” he says, “are you going to open your present?”

“Oh, it’s a present?”

“A reward. You’ve impressed me with your hard work, and you deserve it.”

You stand there dumbfounded.

“Open it, dove,” he says quietly.

Bending down, you remove layers of the tough canvas until you feel something softer. It’s a strange array of padded cloth, in various odd shapes. You look up at your king, standing over you with his hands behind his back, chewing on his lip. Is he… nervous? You dig into the package further and pull out the largest piece. You hold it up and it finally hits you; it looks like a sort of jacket, with two pads on either top side… for arms?

“It’s…?” you start.

“Armor,” he says, almost too quickly, and then hesitates, “for you.”

You’re frozen where you crouch, blinking at the armour set in front of you. The white fabric is edged and trimmed with a fine gold thread, and the padding in the quilting is firmer than one would expect. You give it a good squeeze, and despite its lightweight feel, it’s extremely resilient. It doesn’t bend at all, no matter how much you try to warp it. It’s the best gift you’ve ever received.

In one swift motion, you drop the torso piece into the pile and throw yourself over the package and up onto him. He stumbles back, clearly not expecting the embrace, but it’s only a moment before he melts into it. His arms around your back pull you in tight, and you realize that you’ve missed the way he smells. You almost wish you would have purchased the scent you’d found at the market booth last week. You would have, had you known that he would be gone from you for so long.

“You better hurry and put it on, dove. We don’t have all night,” he says into the shell of your ear. Reluctantly, you pull away and pick up the mound of cloth. You trot to one side of the clearing where there is a particularly large bush. Behind it, you change. Even though the king has seen every last inch of you, it still seems appropriate to change out of sight for this. You don’t even have to remove your gown, but you want it to be a surprise.

Once you have the set on and tied, you walk back out into the clearing. He has his back turned to you, clearly having the same idea, so you call out to him.

“Your Majesty?”

He turns around and takes his time looking at your form. His eyes slowly rake over you, from top to bottom, and a small smile gradually spreads across his face. You wish you could know what he’s thinking, but more than anything, you want him near to you again.

“Aren’t you going to come see how it fits?” you tease. He lowers his gaze and walks slowly to where you stand in the tall grass. He lifts up one of your arms and holds it delicately as he makes a show of examining it.

“Is it too heavy?” he asks, lowering your arm and reaching around your back, barely touching it.

“I don’t think so, Your Highness,” you reply, turning fully around once so that he may see.

“And you wear it well,” he says, landing a peck on the spot where your neck and shoulder meet, “of course you do. Come, let’s begin. Let’s see if it works.”

The night is spent as the other nights in the clearing are. You goad each other into a type of dance, explosively throwing strikes and deftly dodging them. You do feel a slight encumbrance at the addition of the light armor, but it also makes you more bold. You take more chances as the night progresses, knowing that the padding will lessen the blow of the dull practice sword that he swings in your direction. The contact still hurts, though, and you quickly begin to tire. It doesn’t help that you haven’t practiced in over a week, either. Other than pure love for the art, stamina has to be another reason the emperor practices as much as he does. Without constant practice, you can expect to exhaust yourself quickly. And you’re absolutely already there. So you start making desperate moves, just so the match will end and you can rest a moment.

You take the opportunity to use your padded forearm to parry away an overhead strike, and he uses your open body posture to his advantage. He lunges forward, and you find yourself crashing onto the soft ground below, his weight fully on top of you. The practice blade falls out of your hand and topples into the grass. You’re both panting wildly, and you look up into his angry eyes.

“Have you forgotten that a sword has a blade, dove?” he asks, not even trying to hide the anger in his tone.

“No, I…” you begin, but can’t find the words. You know what he’s getting at, but you’re too tired.

“If you were to pull that move in a real fight, with a real blade, you would be missing an arm,” he says coldly. He grabs the forearm you used to block.

“This isn’t metal. It’s cloth. Do you think a real sword could not pierce it?” he asks harshly. You don’t answer.

“Do you?!” he repeats, more forcefully.

“It... could, Your Majesty…” you say, almost in a whisper. You aren’t sure why he’s so upset about this.

“Never do that again. Do you understand? You will never use your own body as a shield.” You can’t take it anymore. It’s been an entire week with not so much as a word, and now that you finally get to see him again, he’s fussing at you.

“I won’t ever have to,” you spit back at him, “I will never be in any real danger. I will never actually wield a true blade against another. Unlike you, I will never have to. This is all just for fun, and you know it. There’s no point in me pretending it’s real when it’s not. There’s no reason for me to treat this seriously when at the end of the day, it’s just a game. This is all just a game. This means nothing. Nothing real will come out of this, you know, because it can’t. It can’t matter. It can’t be real.”

He stands up and walks a few paces away from you. His fingers run through his hair, and you hear him sigh.

“What if it were real?” you barely hear him ask.

What?!

“Your Majesty?”

“Would you like to wield a real blade?”

There’s no point in lying. There’s no reason to hide what you want.

“Yes. I do,” you say. He sighs. Reaching for his own sword in the grass.

“Then do it,” he says, slowly closing the distance between you. He unsheathes his sword, holds the shining blade in his two open palms, and extends it out to you.

“But that’s your blade, My King…” you begin.

“Yes, dove, I am aware,” he replies, “I want you to use it. Tonight. Against me.”\

No. This isn’t fair.

“What will you use, then? It’s not fair if I have a blade and you do not. What if I… kill you?”

The king just chuckles.

“My dear, you have yet to land a strike to me, and you are worried that you’re going to kill me?” he says, rolling his eyes, before looking into yours again. You’re unconvinced. He just sighs.

“I promise, I’ll be fine.”

You take the blade, and tighten your right hand around the tang. Your knuckles turn white under the stress. It’s lighter than you thought it would be. You step back and give it a few swings to test the balance and weight. You look at the glint of the moon on the blade, and then look up to meet the eyes of your king. He’s got the practice sword at the ready, and puts his left foot back into a ready stance. There’s not a drop of fear in his eyes.

In fact, he looks more excited than he’s ever been. You feel a boldness rising through your belly, and you hoist up the blade. Each one of your strikes are met with the clang of his practice blade, and the shrill scrape of blade against metal rips through the night air.

He blocks each of your attacks with precision and ease, and before long, your body begins to betray you. Your dodges become much slower, and soon, you find it hard to take another step. He shows no signs of exhaustion; in fact, his blocks become even more forceful. You let the sword fall gently to the grass at your side, a clear sign to your opponent that you’re done.

He grins and slowly steps to where you stand panting and holds out both of his hands, palms up. You place his sword back into his possession, and crash onto the ground below. You catch your breath as you study the stars. You hear the metal as the emperor sheaths his blade, and you feel the grass shift as he sits next to you.

“How did it feel?” he asks.

“Like…” you begin, before settling on the right word, “I was unstoppable.”

“Oh, I assure you,” he says with a chuckle, “you were quite stoppable.”

“Yes, but that’s not how I felt!” you say, playfully hitting him on the arm.

“Yes, that is one of the blessings and curses of learning this discipline,” he says, running his fingers through your messy hair, “You gain confidence, but it can often be miscalculated.” He lets that sink in. He continues.

“I would be doing you a disservice if I were to simply teach you the technique and forgo the attitude one must have. You see, dove, having the skill to wield a weapon in practice is different than an actual survival situation. Even here, your senses heighten and you feel your body strengthen with nerves, but in a real battle, that heightening of your senses can hold you back. It can cost you a limb. It can cost you your life.”

“Even though you will never see a real opponent, I have an obligation as your teacher to share with you everything I know,” he looks up at you, “I won’t allow for your knowledge to be single sided. A sword’s strength lies in it’s two blades, does it not?” Several beats pass as you take in everything he’s said.

“Thank you,” you say, “for everything. It was exciting to wield a true blade. The danger was… exciting.”

“You know, I had a feeling that you would feel that way. Perhaps I have one additional new thing to introduce you to this evening…”

He reaches over to your arm, where the light armor is fixed in place. He starts to untie the knots at your wrist, kissing the skin once exposed. With every time his lips meet your skin, your heart threatens to come up out of you. But no matter how much you missed him, you can’t stop the brat inside of you from coming out.

“I think I can remove my own armor,” you tease, pulling your arm away from him.

“Yes, but it’s much more fun when I do it,” he replies, grabbing a hold of your other arm. You let him slowly take off each piece of armor, and then your dress, and then your undergarments. He removes his own robe and tosses it to the side, leaving only his undershorts in place.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, wondering what your king has in store for you.

He reaches over and unsheathes his sword, and everything you thought was going to happen melts away.

“The danger excited you, dove?” he asks, casually examining his blade in front of you.

“Yes, My King,” you reply cautiously, and then feel the need to explain yourself, “I... didn’t know if the blade would cut… If it would slash you, or if I would make a mistake and nick myself…”

He slowly inches his blade closer to you, and stops right before making contact with the skin on your leg.

“Do you trust me?” he asks. You nod carefully, and he grins. “Be very still.” He turns his sword so that the flat side of the blade is facing you, and he slowly presses it against the hot skin of your thigh. The cool metal shocks you, but you are able to remain perfectly still, captivated by the danger of the blade. Every inch he drags the blade unearths something deep within your belly.

He finally removes it from your thigh, and places it in the grass to the side of your body as he kneels down. Now between your legs, he takes the tip of his nose and runs it up to the apex of your thighs, warm breath ghosting over where his cool blade had just been. He arrives at your cunt, and takes the tip of his nose to your clit.

“Mmm, you’re already wet… I knew you would enjoy that,” he says into your folds, “Maybe we should do it again.” Even though it doesn’t come out as a question, his eyes look up at you from his place in between your legs as if asking for permission. Mouth agape, you nod your consent.

“Excellent,” he says, licking a stripe up your slit.

He reaches for the sword at your side, and gives your clit one more sloppy kiss. You watch as the edge of the blade glimmers as he lifts himself up. You allow yourself to fully drop to the soft earth below, your messy hair strewn about the grass. He sits above you, and lowers his blade down so that the flat side of the tip barely touches your forehead. He removes it and places it again, but lower, cold and weighty on the pillows of your parted lips.

He removes the blade and presses it lower still, at the dip in your clavicle, and begins to gently drag it down. As the blade slides down your chest, the chilling touch of the metal makes your pussy clench in anticipation. He slides the entire length between the mounds of your breasts, letting the tip trail down to your belly button, and as soon as the tip is about to reach your clit, he picks up the blade. He rotates it tip-side up, so that the hilt is to the ground. He takes the knob of the tang and presses it on your clit, moving in small circles against your bud. The king moves the shaft of the handle down until he’s teasing your entrance with it.

He adds pressure, toying with inserting it into your eager slit. You buck your hips up and throw them in circles, desperately trying to get more friction against the hilt of his sword.

“Do you want something, dove?” the king asks nonchalantly, though his eyes betray him.

“Please, Your Majesty,” you whine, “please fuck me.”

“Hmmm,” he teases, “should I?”

“Please,” you whisper, on the verge of tears. It’s been an entire week. Even though you tried your hardest to push him out of your mind, your nightly dreams betrayed you.

“Only because you asked so nicely,” he says, tossing his sword onto the grass to your left and pulling himself out of the top of his shorts. He runs his thumb over the tip, spreading the drops of precum that bead there. He rubs his length up your folds, taking the slick that’s there, before pressing into you.

He doesn't allow you time to adjust to the stretch before he’s thrusting hard into you, but he knows by now that you like your pleasure with a drop of pain.

You buck your hips up into him to meet his thrusts, and reach up to touch his chest. A thin coat of sweat forms under your hand, and you slowly trace your hand down his torso until it meets his cock. He feels better than your dreams depicted, but you want more.

You use the last bit of your strength to sit up and push him down onto his back. The change in position pushes him deeper into you, and you grind hard onto him.

“I think I like when your confidence is boosted, little one..” he says, “But don’t think you’re going to get away with that.”

He grabs your arms and pulls you down onto him, locking you in by wrapping his arms around your back. He pushes his hips up and begins snapping them up into you relentlessly. He moves his arms from securing your back to palming your ass cheeks, spreading them slightly to bring the shock of cool air.

He allows you to sit up, and you support your weight with your knees so that he can continue his pace. It’s not a difficult task, since you have grown in strength. The new angle has him hitting your most sensitive spot, and in seconds, you’re hurtling toward your climax. He reaches up and hooks one of his thumbs into your mouth, and that alone has you tumbling over the edge.

It’s not long before he finishes as well, spilling his seed inside of you. You collapse on top of him, having spent every ounce of energy you have.

You both lay there for a moment, just holding each other. Taking in every detail you can about this moment. His parted lips, how his chest is still rising and falling as he catches his breath, the soft waves of his long, golden hair, how the muscles of his arm flex as he gently rubs your back.

In the arms of your king, the only man in the world who isn’t permitted to love you, you feel at home.

Like a ton of bricks, you remember that you shouldn’t allow yourself this feeling, so you pull away from him. The last time you allowed yourself this luxury, it could have cost you your life. He slips out of you, and his seed begins to spill out as you stand. You go to retrieve your clothes, grabbing the cloth that was used to wrap your armor and using it to clean yourself.

“We should go back,” you say, glancing back at him. His brows are slightly furrowed, and his face drops as you speak.

“Yeah,” he says, focused on the ground and picking at some of the strands of long grass that poke at his arms. Distracting himself.

You turn back around so that he can’t see that your eyes are filling with tears.

“Yeah.”

#bts smut #yoongi smut #emperor!yoongi #bts fanfiction #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts imagines #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #fantasy!au #emperor!au #the emperor's dagger #xmint-conditionx #knifeplay #swordplay?#dom!yoongi #sub!reader #fem!reader

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latent-thoughts · 4 years

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Today is Fanfic Writers' Appreciation Day, and so, I wanna spread some love.

@mastreworld One of the very first Loki fics I had read were yours. It was full of my kinda kinks and smut, but more importantly, it was full of rich story telling. It didn't just open a new creative world for me, it also opened the gates for one of the closest friendships I've ever had. You and your fics have a special place in my heart. I love our discussions (Loki knows some of them have led to the writing of more Loki fics). It's a magical thing, and I hope you keep writing more delicious Loki fics.

@caffiend-queen Boy, you write such details in your fics, my mind is blown away. Especially the stuff about clothes, shoes, classy booze, anything really...you have got such in-depth knowledge of this stuff! I don't even think about such details when I write, which is a personal failing of mine, lol. It's so damn impressive that you mix these details in, and it really brings the story to life. Great smut aside, you write some of the most nail biting climaxes (ha!) too, which is not an easy thing to do.

@nildespirandum You are a words' witch. You weave words like pearls in an intricate jewelry piece. I'm awed by your worldbuilding, and even slightly envious, if I may say so. You write grey characters so well, I feel truly conflicted when they do something super bad, lol. I hope your Loki and Nora series never reaches an end. It even gave me inspiration for writing a series in future.

@realityhelixwrites You write one of the cutest, fluffiest Loki's, and still keep him authentic and in character. Not a small feat. Your story, Lasabrjotr, has a really fleshed out reader character. I luff her. Though she be but little she is fierce! Keep on writing, you write one of the best slow burn Loki fics.

@illegalcerebral I truly appreciate your Loki fics, especially the series with the GOTG gang. It's something I badly wanted to see, and your fic filled that void in my soul. Your writing has an almost fairytale-sqe feel to it. I enjoy it thoroughly! MY BODY IS READY FOR THE NEXT PART OF THE LONELIEST PEOPLE IN THE GALAXY.

@maiden-of-asgard Don't think that I can say more than what's already been said. Your writing is to die for. The details in your fics, especially the worldbuilding and language and culture creation... CHEF'S KISS! And to top that, you blend Loki's mischief and stoicism so well. I hope to see more of your creative ventures, be it fic or original publishing.

@ohhhmyloki Your writing has a unique tone and style. Very few stories make me FEEL so much, and yours surely do. I feel as though I'm in the character's skin. I swear reading Fever was a religious experience, in more ways than one. It brought you in my life, and with you came the understanding about certain spiritual experiences I had been receiving. It has been a great experience, and I'm glad to have you as one of my closest frens.

@emeraldrosequartz GUUURL... whatever I write here, its the tip of the iceberg that's our relationship 😂🥰. A year ago, at this time, @dangertoozmanykids101 (I think) recced your fic (In One Moment) here on Tumblr. I hopped on the wagon and started reading. And then commenting on it. It was dark, it was delicious, it even scary. I found you on Tumblr... And idk what happened then... a spell was cast, perhaps? But that marked the beginning of a writing frenzy unlike any I've ever experienced before. We wrote together like crazies, and we got to know each other through it. It was so intense, it was like a fever. I hope we can keep on creating more stories (we sure are). I'm blessed to have you in my life, babe. ❤️

@talklokitome I got to know you through Loki's Library, and I thank the universe that I stuck with the server, because I cherish our deep friendship. Through it I got to read your fics, which was like uncovering a gem. Watching you write with @emeraldrosequartz was especially fun. Hope you do it again soon.

@lokilover9 Yours was also one of the first fics I read in the fandom, especially on Tumblr. If there's a potential for humor in any situation, and if Loki is involved, you know how to make it even funnier. I've had a blast writing with you, and also, experiencing the growth of our friendship. I hope that you can get back to writing again. It's the perfect outlet for your naughty and dirty creative thoughts. 😂

@amaru163 I know that I've been lacking in reading your stories (or reading much at all, lately 😭), but those snippets you've shared have been a delight to read. Please keep sharing more.

@shiningloki Boy, you've been a revelation. I hope I can dedicate more time to reading your deliciously smutty fics. They have all the kinks I wish for. One night imma set my obligations aside to simply gorge on Get On Your Knees... 😏

@grufflepuff-writes-stuff Your dedication to writing is something else. I'm amazed at the fact that you've written almost 150 Loki's Lullabies. You go girl! Your writing feels like a warm blanket on a cold and stormy night, with a fire crackling nearby. It's a hot chocolate that feels like warm silk on the throat. The fact that you can, through your writing, give us readers comfort during this tough time is something truly amazing. Keep it up. 💜

@pedeka & @icybluepenguin I love the way you weave your storyline within different MCU storylines to create a completely new thing. I love that you included mythological elements to it as well, especially Huginn and Muninn. I cannot wait to catch up on it. It's one of the best RP evolved stories I've read.

@wolfpawn You write such inspiring and strong female characters, it's a gift to the Loki fandom. You write rich, long stories filled with real world issues and problems, something that is hard to do when writing fantasy. Idk how you do it, but you're a like a supremely skilled craftsmen with it. Not to mention, your amazing work with @imagine-loki . You work hard on that blog, and I'd say you are one of the great pillars of this fandom.

@dangertoozmanykids101 @toozmanykids Guurl, your are a turbo charged fic reccer and reader. Your comments on my fics have probably added years of good life to my lifetime. I swear I want to get them all framed. Besides being an awesome contributer to the fandom, you're a great creative mind yourself. The things you've written, especially in our 'Loki on Sakaar' challenge, are absolutely out of this world. I could never, lol. I hope to see more of your writing come to life, babe. And I hope our friendship keeps growing too. You're an awesome person.

@foruneyti Your story is one of the loveliest I've ever read in the fandom. I rec it to anyone and everyone who asks me for fic recs. I hope you write more such engaging tales.

@sserpente The sheer volume of your fics is amazing. You write with great heart and dedication to the craft. You take on prompts and requests (something I've had issues with) and weave lovely fics around them. Your productivity is enviable. I hope you keep on writing and succeed as an author.

@imnotrevealingmyname My little writing fren. I've come to know you and your fics very recently, but it's been a very pleasant discovery. What more, getting to know yet another Indian in the fandom was delightful! You write one of the naughtiest, smuttiest fics I've read, and I love your thought process. 😂😏

@nekoamamori I love the sheer joy your fics bring into the fandom. I especially love your Peter and Loki friendship fic (Of Numbers And Strange Friendships). It's something that I dearly wanted to see on screen, but it didn't happen. Your fic fixes that beautifully.

@nuggsmum You are a lovely storyteller, one of the funniest people I've met on Tumblr, and not yo mention, super strong and resilient. I hope that you can find the time to write again, after you've dealt with the things that need your attention now. You're a bright star in a dark sky. ❤️

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silentauroriamthereal · 4 years

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5,900 followers!

So! I’ve been on tumblr since about August 2013 now. I had been away from fandom in general for a solid 3-4 years by that point, having left the Harry Potter fandom after a good deal of waning interest, which was definitely accelerated by basically everything about JKR (and this was before she outed herself as a major TERF) - adding to the canon with random shit she would say in interviews, etc, the whole “Dumbledore is gay” - but not in actual canon, including not making it canon in the movies that came after, etc. When I left the HP fandom, fandom in general was still very much on livejournal, though due to endless issues with LJ, people had already started drifting off to other platforms, which led to a widespread sensation of the fandom breaking up. My offline life got busy, I started my masters, and just didn’t have either the time or the interest in writing HP fanfic anymore. I had written 1.5 million words of fic and figured I was about out of words, anyway. My longtime friend, @moonflower-rose, had designed me an icon with the Latin phrase cacoethes scribendi, which basically means an endless mania for writing. I had started to feel that I wasn’t living up to that anymore, too, so I just quietly disappeared.

Fast forward to 2013 and my encountering the ridiculous talents of Benedict Cumberbatch via Star Trek Into Darkness (still think that title needs a colon, but what can you do) and immediately needing to see everything else he’d ever done. I’d heard of Sherlock in my last, lingering days on LJ, but hadn’t decided to delve into it at all. At this point, only series 1 and 2 were out, though setlock photos for series 3 started emerging just after I plunged wholeheartedly into the Sherlock fandom. I was hooked immediately by Ben and Martin’s acting, by the interesting stories (though I was irked from the beginning of the treatment of Irene Adler and the imposition of a hetero-ized romance of two obviously (one canonically!) gay characters). I was irked by the lazy writing and easy outs that Moffat and Gatiss always seem to prefer. Nevertheless, I was only about halfway through The Reichenbach Fall when I was seized with a feeling that was half sinking and half elated: that I needed to write about these two people. The old urge had come back, and it came back hard.

Now, a little over six years later, I’m over 2.3 million words deep into this fandom, with 88 posted stories and another that’s over 16,000 words in at this point. And the place where I re-found fandom and all of the community that comes with it, was here. It’s still astounding to me that anyone reads my stories. It’s astounding to me that 5,900 of you follow me. It’s really, really cool. :)

I used to make a post like this about every 100 new followers, but I’ve sort of slacked off it lately. If you’ve been following me for a long time, this will be repetitive and I’m sorry! But here goes:

-I generally follow everyone back, with the rider that, if the blog posts too much untagged content that I’m not interested in and can’t filter out because of the lack of tags, I’ll unfollow, just because that’s a lot of blogs. Sometimes tumblr doesn’t show me who followed me. If you’re following me and I’m not following you back and you wish I were, please, please, please just drop me a line and say so and I’ll fix it!

-I post my stories at ao3. I have not imported my HP stuff and have no desire to do so. You can still find it at skyehawke.com. As long as skyehawke is still up and running, I will leave my HP stories there. Meanwhile, my Sherlock stuff is all posted here at ao3.

-if you’re someone who has the means to support writers and artists in the fandom and that’s something you’re interested in doing, I do have a Patreon account. It’s over here. I always feel intensely squirmy about promoting this and only have it because @ravenmorganleigh made me get it (bless, lol). As a person who is perpetually struggling to make ends meet, I feel badly because I can never afford to support anyone else financially (every month that I make the rent is a win, basically). The donations people make through my Patreon have often meant the difference between being able to buy groceries or not. I don’t mean to be dramatic about this, but that’s literally the case, and I’m endlessly, endlessly grateful to every single dollar anyone has ever donated. But please don’t ever feel that you need to do this and please don’t if it isn’t something you can afford! I mean that. Also, my Patreon is set up for monthly contributions, and if you’re just dying to make a donation but want it to be a one-time thing, I also use PayPal, via my fandom email account, which is [email protected].

I’ve met some of the most amazing people here in this place and I’m very glad that I chose to come back to fandom, to find my own creative voice again, to have this chance to discuss and share excitement or rage or humour, and to be a part of so many of your lives, in whatever small way. I always get introspective at this time of the year, since it’s not only about to be a new year, but my birthday is also right at the end of the year (it’s December 30th), so I always end up having Big Thoughts About Life in this window between Christmas at the end of the year. Today, this is my Big Thought: how grateful I am to have all of you, in whatever large or small way, in my life. <3333333333333333333333

#SA's long rambly Thoughts #fandom #sherlock #johnlock #5900 followers

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marshmallow-phd · 4 years

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Missing Piece

Genre: Single Dad!AU

Pairing: Junmyeon x Reader

A/N: @rcse-tvler its here! However, I’m not sure if I really did it justice, but I hope you like it! (also, I wanted to post this yesterday but tumblr was having a freak out on my laptop and refused to cooperate)

Junmyeon collapsed into the chair as an exasperated sigh escaped. Finally asleep in his bed, Minjae’s soft, kitten-like snores could be heard drifting out into the hallway. Today, his son had been a handful. The four-year-old had been happy one second and then throwing a fit the next because the plastic car wouldn’t fit on the other toy brand of tracks. Everyone warned Junmyeon about the terrible twos, but no one bothered to inform him that it didn’t really ever end.

Never did Junmyeon imagine that he would be doing this job on his own. For the most part, he thought he wasn’t doing too badly, but days like these drained him. He could feel himself losing patience. When that happened, he left the room and took deep breaths before resuming the role of parent. At times his ears rang from the inhumanly high pitched screams Minjae would release. But the softer moments, like when he fell asleep in his arms or helped him in the kitchen, the joyous laughter that only a child could give off… he wouldn’t trade for anything in the world. Perhaps that was a cliché thing for a parent to say, but there was no other bond like the one between father and son.

Suddenly recharged, Junmyeon hit the armrest with his palm and stood back up. A few things needed to be done around the house and then it was his turn to slide into bed for the night. Before he did, however, he peeked through the crack into his son’s room, smiling to himself.

Minjae had managed to kick off half the sheets, toss a pillow down to the other end of the bed, and work himself into a diagonal position with his tiny yet slightly smelly feet hanging off the edge. Shaking his head, Junmyeon quietly snuck into the room and adjusted Minjae into a more comfortable position. He placed a tender kiss on Minjae’s forehead. The little boy didn’t stir at the touch. With a wide, love-filled smile, Junmyeon straightened up and exited the room, leaving the tiniest crack open so the light from the hallway could leak in.

The mall was loud today.

Granted, it was usually loud with the many people milling about, talking in their groups, laughing and mingling while arguing over where to go next. Machines and ovens hummed in the food court. Blenders shrilled and printers shuttered as they pushed out receipts. Children giggled and squealed as they ran around the miniature playground stuffed in a corner of the building.

You enjoyed it, though. The controlled chaos around you. It was like socializing without actually having to interact with others. You felt a part of the human race; you just didn’t have to exhume too much effort for it.

At the moment, you were resting on one of the benches, your shopping bags sitting at your feet. Too impatient to start your book when you got home, you’d pulled it out from one of the fresh crisp bags and flipped to the first chapter. The antics around you became background noise as the author’s words pulled you in. At least, until you felt a small on your sleeve.

You looked down to see a small boy with tear stained cheeks and a trembling bottom lip standing beside the bench.

“I can’t find daddy,” he said in a tiny voice. You almost had to strain to hear the imperfect syllables.

“You can’t find your dad?” you asked, just to make sure that you heard him correctly. The boy nodded. You glanced around to see if you could spot a frantic looking man, but everyone seemed to be blissfully unaware of any missing child. Giving the boy a comforting smile, you held out your hand. “Come on. We’ll find a nice security guard and see if we can find your dad.”

“Okay,” the boy mumbled. His tiny fingers slid into yours and you walked him over to the security kiosk a few feet away.

“Excuse me. This little boy is lost.”

The security guard behind the desk leaned over the counter and looked down at the boy with concern. “Oh, no. What’s your name, sweetheart?”

The little boy looked up you as if waiting for your approval to answer the question.

You crouched down so you were at his level. “What is your name?”

“Kim Minjae” the boy whispered. You looked up at the security guard, who apparently heard him. She turned to the phone at the desk and made an announcement into the speaker asking for the father of Kim Minjae to please come to the security kiosk by the playground. The announcement crinkled out from the ceiling. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

Noticing that the boy was trembling, you picked him up and placed him on the counter to rest before removing your jacket and draping it around his shoulders. The boy was already wearing a thing zip hoodie, but you thought the gesture might give him a form of comfort. “It’ll be alright. We’ll find your dad, okay?”

“I know,” Minjae nodded confidently. . “He said if I ever got lost to find a nice lady and she would help me.”

You laughed at the bluntness of his words. “Well, your dad is a smart man.”

“He says he’s handsome, too.”

There was no way you could hold back the snort after that. Kids really did say the most hilarious and random things. You couldn’t help but wonder if the father was as cute as the son.

Immediately, you blinked that thought away. He was probably married or at least in a relationship with the boys’ mother. Or anyone, really.

“Minjae!”

The boy’s face lit up at the sound of his name, flinging his arms open. “Daddy!”

A man with dark brown hair came sailing between the two of you and wrapped his arms around Minjae. “Oh, thank god!” He leaned back, hands on Minjae’s shoulders. “Where did you wonder off to? I thought I told you to stay by me?”

Minjae pouted out his bottom lip. With that tiny cute hand, he pointed to the playground. “I wanted to play.”

The man sighed. “Well, next time, ask and we’ll play when daddy’s done. Alright?” When Minjae nodded, the man ruffled his son’s hair playfully.

“You’re very lucky that this nice lady found him,” the security guard pointed out.

As if only realizing that you were there, the man turned to you. “Oh, right! I’m so sorry. Thank you for finding my son.”

“Oh, no worries,” you said, waving his thanks away. “Really, your sound found me. I just happened to be reading on the bench when he asked me for help.”

There was a slight pause, neither of you sure of what else to say. You were about to finally say goodbye when Minjae intervened.

“Do you like ice cream?”

Smiling, you nodded. “Yes, I do. Do you like ice cream?”

Minjae nodded enthusiastically.

“It’s the least you could do since she helped your child,” the security guard added not-so-subtly.

“Um, of course.” Minjae’s father scratched the back of his neck nervously. “If you’re free, that is.”

You almost said no. But… Minjae was looking up at you with wide, pleading eyes, the security guard was wearing a smirk and… well, he was cute. Just like his son. And you didn’t spot any ring indicating he was married.

“Alright,” you agreed, giving in. “Ice cream sounds good.”

Minjae cheered, which in turn earned a laugh from his father. Even that was cute, turning his brown eyes into crescent moons.

“I’m Junmyeon, by the way.”

You gave him your name shyly in return. This wasn’t exactly how you pictured this day at the mall going, but you weren’t exactly upset about it.

A few minutes later, after Junmyeon filled out an incident report the security guard insisted was mandatory, the three of you were headed to the small ice cream parlor located a few shops over. Clever strategic planning by the owners, if anyone asked you. While Minjae got a particularly messy looking chocolate cone, you stuck with a much less embarrassing single scoop in a clear plastic cup.

“So,” Junmyeon cleared his throat after several minutes of you all enjoying the dessert. “Minjae said that… you were... reading? When he asked you for help?”

His awkward approach was almost too adorable. “Yeah, I was. Just a new book I’d picked up today.”

“So, you like to read?” he inquired with a little more self-assurance.

“Yeah, I do.”

“What – oops, hold on, buddy.” Junmyeon took one of the napkins stacked on the table and wiped away the dribble of chocolate that was making its way down Minjae’s chin. The little boy giggled before diving back in for more. It would only be a matter of time when he gave himself another chocolate beard.

Your heart back flipped at the gesture. This was dangerous. You barely knew his name and you were already developing somewhat of a crush. Part of you was wondering already about the possibility of seeing him again, but you didn’t want to tread murky waters.

“Do you read?” you asked.

“When I can,” he said. “Since its just me taking care of Minjae, I don’t have as much time to read new books as I’d like. Well, except for the children’s books that Minjae likes.” Another round of soft laughter bounced between the two of you before dying out slowly. You weren’t sure what pushed you to ask, but it was out before you could think it through.

“I don’t mean to pry,” you started, pushing the now empty cup off to the side. “But….” You clamped down on your bottom lip. You chickened out, but the notion was already out there.

“Where’s Minjae’s mom?” Junmyeon finished for you. His shoulders slumped slowly and he gave his son a long look. “Hey, why don’t you go ask the nice man at the counter for a cup and get some water?”

“Okay!” Minjae hopped down out of his chair, completely unaware of the turn of the conversation.

Turning back to you, Junmyeon kept his gaze down on his fidgeting fingers.

“You really don’t have to tell me,” you said. Regret was a heavy emotion. Right now, it felt like it could sink you through the floor. “It’s none of my business. I’m sorry.” Needing to get away, you grabbed your coat from the seat next to you and stood to your feet. A warm hand caught your wrist, stopping you.

“No, it’s okay,” he insisted. “I should be okay talking about it by now. Please. Don’t go.”

You sat back down and waited.

“She passed away when Minjae was born,” he explained quietly. He snuck a peek at Minjae, who was keeping the cashier entertained with all the questions imaginable about ice cream. “It never occurred to me that could happen – not in this day and age with technology – but she did. She’d always had a bit of a weak heart so the doctors think it was the strain….”

By pure instinct, your hand jumped out and engulfed his. “I’m so sorry.”

He glanced down at your hands, the corner of his lip lifting slightly. “It’s alright. I still have Minjae and we’ve been getting along really well. Although it would be nice to have a roommate that picks up after himself.”

Both of you laughed at the silly joke, releasing the tension that had been building.

“Is (y/n) coming home with us?”

The two of you jumped back at Minjae’s sudden reappearance.

“No, Minnie,” Jumnyeon told him. If you weren’t mistaken, it almost sounded like he was as disappointed as Minjae looked. “Although, we should probably get going. It’s about time for your nap.”

“I’m not tired!” Queue the yawn he was obviously trying to suppress.

“I think that gives you away,” you teased. You and Junmyeon stood up, each of you putting on your coats before the three of you headed for the shop entrance. “It was nice to meet you.”

He nodded back. “You as well. And thank you again, for helping Minjae.”

“Of course.” The little voice in your head was screaming for you to ask for his number - for any sort of contact information at all - but you ignored it, letting the two of them walk away while Minjae waved to you sadly. You stood there for an extra minute or two, wondering if you’d lost your chance.

“Um, miss?”

You turned around to the cashier who had called out to you. “Yes?”

He held out a tiny blue coat. “Your son left his jacket.”

“Oh, I don’t have-” You stopped. That was Minjae’s jacket. Was this, perhaps, a sign that you weren’t supposed to let them go? Going with it, you took the jacket and ran in the direction you’d seen the pair go off in.

Just your luck. You’d lost them.

Then another idea popped into your head.

Heading back to the security kiosk, you were relieved to find the same guard still manning the post.

“Hi, um, sorry, but do you remember me?” you asked, completely out of breath.

“Of course,” the guard smiled. “How can I help you?”

“Okay, so I know that this probably completely against policy, but I was wondering if I could see the incident report he filled out early?”

The guard raised an eyebrow out you. “So, you can see his address?”

You cringed. “Well… yes. But I have his son’s jacket,” you held it up as proof, “and I’m sure he’d like it back.”

“Well, I’m not really supposed to do this….” The guard reached down into a file cabinet and pulled out a single sheet of paper, “but if I leave it out and go get a drink, I can’t stop you from taking a picture of it.”

“Oh, my gosh, thank you!”

She smiled cheekily at you before exiting the kiosk. “For what?”

Rolling your eyes, you scanned the sheet, finding the address and snapping a picture of it. The house was nowhere near your own so you never would have found them without help. Thank goodness for that security guard.

Once you were outside of the home, you sat in your car for a good twenty minutes, too nervous to get out. What if he thought you were overstepping or a stalker? What if he wrote down a different address for privacy and an old woman answered the door?

Actually, you’d take the second one over the first.

Brushing up your courage, you grabbed the jacket from the passenger’s seat and forced yourself out of the car. Your steps were hurried as you went up the driveway. Chalk drawings on the porch told you that you might have the right house after all. You knocked, waited.

The door creaked open slowly.

Minjae was refusing to take a nap in his bed even though he’d fallen asleep in his car seat on the way home. Junmyeon had gotten him to at least lay down on the couch while a cartoon quietly played on the TV. Inspired by his earlier encounter, he cracked open a book he had started ages ago. But he found it hard to concentrate on the words.

He couldn’t get you out of his head. It had only a brief meeting. Yet, he was replaying the small encounter over in his head. You’d been so sweet to Minjae and kind and warm towards him. He thought that... maybe you were feeling the odd connection between the two of you as well?

A knock came from the front door, making him jump. Minjae groaned from the couch, but didn’t wake fully. Curious, Junmyeon stood up and answered the door. He felt himself lite up as soon as he saw you. “(y/n)! What are you doing here? How did you-”

You held up Minjae’s jacket shyly. Junmyeon hadn’t even realized his son was no longer wearing it when they left the mall. “Minjae left his jacket and I wasn’t able to catch you. The security guard gave me your address from the report you filled out.”

“Well, thank y-”

“(y/n)!”

Awakened from his nap, Minjae pushed passed Junmyeon and wrapped his arms around your legs, a wide, toothy grin given just for you.

“Hi, there!” you greeted back. You ran your fingers through his air sweetly. Junmyeon’s heart swelled that he’d taken such a liking to you.

Still holding on to you, Minjae turned to Junmyeon and asked, “Now can she stay?”

Junmyeon pursed his lips. He didn’t want to seem too eager in agreeing. Plus, the father in him was still very much present. “Really, you’re supposed to be taking a nap.”

His son took that as a yes and grabbed your hand, pulling you inside. You were barely able to throw an apologetic look over your shoulder to Junmyeon as you were tugged along. Junmyeon chuckled at his son’s actions. He was always a determined little fellow, quick to action before anyone could contradict him. Within minutes, you were on the floor of Minjae’s bedroom, helping him build the tracks for his race cars. Junmyeon stood in the doorway, watching you two.

Minjae often got along with people, but he’d never taken to someone so well. Though he barely knew you, Junmyeon was enjoying the sight of you engaging with his son, listening inventively and being intentional with your actions. He hadn’t dated much since Minjae’s mother passed away. It hadn’t been a priority with Minjae needing him. But... maybe now wasn’t a bad time to start again.

“Daddy, come join us!” Minjae insisted.

Smiling, he came over and sat down on the floor next to you. He asked Minjae questions about which tracks should he use and which car was the fastest. He caught you staring at him. Perhaps you were thinking along the same lines.

“Would you like to stay for dinner?” he asked softly in order to not be overheard by the busy four-year-old.

“Yeah,” you smiled, replying in an equally quiet voice. His heart jumped at your positive reply. “Dinner would be great.”

#exo #exo single dad au #exo single dad!au #junmyeon x reader #kim junmyeon #suho #exo single parent au #exo scenarios #exo imagines #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #kpop #fluff #exo oneshot

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter 7

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Hallowe’en chaos.

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty, Epilogue

After trivia night, Emily Prentiss found her world had shifted slightly.

For the first time in her life, she had a friend group: a consistent presence of not only just Derek and the occasional Hotch, but also Spencer Reid, Penelope Garcia and most importantly, Jennifer Jareau.

Emily noticed it most in the dining hall. Most mornings this semester, she would grab coffee and maybe an apple on her way to class. Now, she was invited to breakfast in the caf. And everyone was also invited, so the six of them began eating not only breakfasts together when their schedules lined up, but soon that melded to include dinners and the odd lunch between classes. While Penelope initiated at the beginning, soon this became a routine.

While they were all busy, and driven people, all with full course loads, extracurriculars and miscellaneous commitments, they managed to get the whole team together multiple times that week.

A few times, extra faces joined them. Penelope’s friend from class, Kevin… something, joined for a lunch on Wednesday. He sat shyly as Derek stared him down the entire time. On Thursday, somehow Hotch convinced their Criminology TA, David Rossi, who was part time Masters Student and part time weed dealer, to have lunch with the bribe of them using their guest pass so he could get a free meal. He reluctantly acquiesced, but seemed to enjoy himself. On Friday, the day before Halloween, Emily brought Tara Lewis, the MC from the Trivia night that was two years ahead of her in criminology, they ran into each other in the quad, recognizing each other. This open door policy made these dinners fun, with new faces alongside their team.

This was all new for Emily. Not having friends, that is, because Emily could always muddle along with some friends, and when she was younger she shaped herself easily into whatever the popular kids wanted her to be. No, it was new because it was so easy. The team, as they now called themselves as a shorthand, had fallen together so effortlessly.

Today was Halloween and they had plans at Dave’s student house, the shabby place that she had ran into JJ, Penelope and Spencer all that time ago. Had it only been a month? She felt like she had known them all for lifetimes by now.

It happened that way with Derek last year, the whole living together thing sped up that connection. Intimacy comes fast when you brush your teeth next to someone.

Emily was sitting at her desk, finishing up her makeup. She was aiming for a vampire, which wasn’t hard given her previous fashion aesthetic.

Yes, Emily did have a goth phase. She will admit it. Not to her new friends just yet, and Derek had been sworn to secrecy. She was now a much more toned down goth, more alt than goth, wearing mostly black but significantly less chains and make up.

Tonight, she wore her fishnets, a short black dress and a cape that was already tied around her shoulders. She had put a slightly too pale foundation on her face, down her neck, and was currently working on her eye liner. She carefully created elegant swoops over her lashes, coming to sharp points.

Next, she added a deep red lipstick. Blood red. It was all very spooky.

Finally, she struggled to test out the fake teeth insert that she had ordered online, slipping it over her top teeth. It fit surprisingly well.

“Happy Halloween,” she said to herself, testing out whether or not she had a lisp. She did. She didn’t care. It was perfect.

Emily did a couple of spins in the mirror on the back of the door. Turning off the overhead light, she looked at herself in the glowing light of her string lights.

She was satisfied. She looked like a hot vampire.

She grabbed her tote bag, which was filled with six miscellaneous beers and coolers that she had leftover from the last few weeks, knowing that she hated the cheap hoppy beer that Rossi would have at his party.

Emily was picky about her alcohol.

She glanced out the window, considering taking an extra layer. It was dreary outside, with the sky an eerie green and powerful gusts of wind rattling the window. Emily grabbed her leather jacket.

Hoisting her bag onto her shoulder and draping her coat over her arm, Emily peeked out of her door, looking out into the hall. In both directions were students in costume; she spotted a Frankenstein, a couple of cats and even someone dressed up in an inflatable t-Rex suit.

She made sure her door was locked and then walked down the hall to Derek’s room, who was at the very end of the hall, as he had lucked out and got a massive room with lots of windows, across from the showers.

She opened the door, finding just about all of their friends already there, sneakily drinking out of mugs, cups and water bottles.

Reid was a zombie, wearing tattered, bloody clothes and a full face of makeup that Emily assumed that Penelope did for him. Sitting next to his computer, queueing music for their pre, was Derek, dressed in a baseball jersey and hat, apparently as a baseball player. This was expected, he wasn’t big on Halloween. Hotch was… a devil? He wore all black and simply had devil horns on his head. Low commitment but the spirit was there.

Emily hoisted herself onto Derek’s bed and greeted her friends.

Spencer was sneaking up behind Derek, peeking his head over his shoulder. Derek, at that moment, seemed to be texting, squinting down at his phone.

“I’m going to eat you!” Spencer yelled into Derek’s ear, causing the larger man to jump to his feet, swatting at the boy in his fright.

Emily laughed at her friend’s distress. He really didn’t like Halloween that much.

“Are you ready for a spooktacular evening?” Spence asked, making his voice wobbly as he put on a dramatic effect. He shone an orange, pumpkin patterned flashlight under his chin.

“Of course,” Emily lisped, “In fact, I vant to drink your blood!”

She lunged forward, and Spencer hid from her behind Derek. It was silly but she could tell how much he liked Halloween, he had talked about it all week, and she couldn’t help but adopt a lispy vampire voice to go with her costume. Though the boy was only two year younger than them, his thin frame and wide eyed expression made him seem much younger.

“Your teeth are excellent,” Spencer pointed out, “Very realistic.”

“I don’t get the hype about Halloween,” Derek said, “Disguises? Pass. Horror movies? No thank you.”

“Booooooo,” Emily protested, “Don’t be a buzzkill, Morgan. Let us have a little fun.”

The door opened again, and Penelope, followed by JJ, joined them.

“Is my statuesque god of sculpted chocolate thunder being lame again?”

“He barely dressed up,” Emily complained.

“Neither did Hotch!” Derek said, gesturing to Hotch’s devil horns.

“Hey, at least I bought these at the party store,” Hotch said, “I’m sure both of those are items from your own closet.”

Derek did not confirm or deny this. Emily knew he wore the same get up last year.

“So when should we be there?” JJ asked.

She was dressed as a witch, with an oversized pointy hat perched on top of her head, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders in perfect curls. She wore a purple dress and tall boots to go with her witch look. She and Penelope joined Spencer on the floor, sitting with their backs to Derek’s closet and cracking open a beer for JJ and a fruity cooler for Penelope.

With large wings, glittery make up and an adorable skirt, Penelope was clearly dressed up as a fairy, which was entirely apropos to who she was as a person. In fact, it was not entirely dissimilar from her normal outfits.

“Rossi said to come by eight,” Hotch said, “So in party talk he means nine-thirty earliest.”

“It’s, what?” Derek checked the time on his laptop, “Eight fifteen now, so we can pre here for an hour or so then start walking over.”

“Yeah,” Hotch said, “His house is just off campus.”

“The weather is crazy out,” Penelope said, looking out the window. The trees were swaying and the leaves were blowing everywhere.

“We could take a cab?” Emily offered, “I’d rather avoid getting leaves in my hair tonight.”

There were some nods, then they got back to preing, playing a few rounds of King’s Cup to ensure that all of them were sufficiently drunk before they left.

Morgan put on his new playlist, not “For The Boys (and emily)” this time, but one titled “Team Vibez” that Emily had seen him make during their lecture on Thursday. It had a lot of his normal songs, some top hits, but a few fun pop songs that Emily knew he added for Penelope, and even some classic rock for Hotch.

At this point, Emily was feeling buzzed. She had two cans discarded in the bin, both hosting lipstick prints from her dark red vampire lips.

JJ was currently chatting with Hotch about some student government scandal that was happening at the time. While politics gave Emily the heebie jeebies, she had reluctantly joined the Criminology Academic Society. It would give her a leg up on grad school applications, for one, and so far, even as a low-level member, she found she was actually making a difference for her classmates. This meant that Emily, despite her deepest urges to not touch political scandals with a ten foot pole, knew exactly what they were talking about.

As the two discussed the student politicians—there were some minor accusations of nepotism, embezzlement and coverups by the undergraduate executive—Emily looked at JJ. Her brows were furrowed in concentration and she was gesturing wildly with her hands as she talked about how badly they were handling their crisis communications.

Suddenly, interrupting this discussion, their phones blasted out a siren, followed by a chorus of the same robot voice announcing an emergency alert.

“National Weather Service: TORNADO WARNING in this area until 10:15PM EST,” the robot announced, “Take shelter now in a basement or an interior room on the lowest floor of a sturdy building.”

They looked at Derek’s three, large windows, and watched as large gusts of wind sent leaves barrelling down the street.

“If you are outdoors, in a mobile home, or in a vehicle, move to the closest substantial shelter and protect yourself from flying debris,” it continued. “Check media.”

Then, their phones went silent and Derek’s music continued unheeded.

“A tornado?!” Penelope said, “Here?”

The window rattled. Derek stood up and hesitantly moved away from it.

Penelope grabbed Derek’s computer, her hands moving in a flurry.

“Ok so,” she began, “from what I can gather from the good old Internet, we’re in a region of extreme winds and the meteorologists are thinking that funnel clouds and tornados are possible this evening.”

“So much for Halloween,” Spencer whined.

“Party is definitely off,” Hotch said. “We should probably take shelter. Is there a basement here?”

“There’s the laundry room?” Emily said.

Adrenaline started pulsing through her veins. She’d been through some severe weather before in her life but never a tornado, nor did she expect one. They were in the north east, nowhere near tornado Alley.

They all stood, making a move for the basement, when the lights flickered once, twice, then shut off entirely. Rain begin to fall down, hard onto the windows, and the boom of thunder filled their ears.

“Shit,” Emily said. “Anyone have a candle?”

---

Ten minutes later, the six of them were seated in a circle, on the strange carpeted floor of the laundry room, with the severe weather making the wind howl outside. Between JJ’s two candles, which were very against the rules, and Derek’s laptop screen, they had enough ambient light to see, but it was all very spooky.

The room smelled damp and earthy, with a strange combination of laundry soaps and dryer sheets. They had to move a spare sock to form a circle around the candle. It looked very much like a séance, so that did fit the Halloween spirit.

“Well,” Hotch said, “At least this is festive.”

Derek was still queuing his music, filling the silence with his DJ skills.

“Aren’t you worried about your battery life?” JJ asked, “What if the power doesn’t come on in the morning.”

“Then I have a great excuse not to finish my essay,” Derek said with a shrug.

“Fair point.”

“Anyways,” Derek continued, “No sense giving up on our party. We have drinks, we have music and thanks to JJ we have illegal candles.”

“They’re not illegal!” She protested, “Simply very against res rules! I like lighting a candle while I study.”

“It’s lucky that there was no one left in res because of Halloween,” Emily said. “Or we would've had a bunch of party crashers.”

“This is better,” Penelope, “Team bonding!”

“What should we play?” Hotch said, “we don’t really have much to work with.”

“This is all very high school,” Penelope said, “A couple of kids, in a basement, sitting in a circle on the floor…”

“With a tornado tearing through our city…” Emily quipped.

“Statistically speaking for this region we are more likely to experience dangerous winds rather than an actual tornado. Worst case is that fallen tree branches hit power lines, or fall onto houses or cars.”

“So you’re saying that we’re in the worst case scenario right now?” Hotch said.

“Yup.”

Hotch frowned.

“How about we play truth or dare?” Penelope changed the subject.

“I’m down,” Emily said, surprising herself. “If everyone else is.”

“I’ve never played!” Spencer said.

“Never?” JJ asked. “Not at any sleepovers.”

“I didn’t get invited to many sleepovers.”

“Neither did I,” Emily admitted, “Some parties I went to played it too.”

JJ looked at her, there was a brief look of sympathy, and then understanding on her face. Emily made note of that.

“I guess we’re playing,” Hotch murmured.

“Derek,” Penelope purred, “Mon cher, truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he said defiantly, bracing himself with a swig of whatever was in his water bottle.

“Who is the prettiest fairy in the basement?”

“You, of course,” he replied with a wink.

“Gross!” Emily exclaimed, “Truth or dare is not for flirting. Hotch: truth or dare?”

“Dare,” he said with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“Show us the… most embarrassing photo of you on your phone.”

He frowned.

“I don’t take many photos.”

“Try,” Emily urged with a laugh.

He fumbled in his pockets, grabbing his phone and scrolling through his photo album for a few minutes.

“It’s from high school,” Hotch said with a sigh. “I was in a play.”

He held up a photo of him in a pirates outfit, he looked smaller, younger than he did now. His hair was shaggy and his face rounder. He was pointing the sword at the camera.

“Who’s the girl?” JJ asked.

“My girlfriend Hayley,” Hotch said, “we’re long distance now. I joined the play to get close to her and it seems to have worked.”

“That’s not embarrassing,” Penelope said, “that’s adorable. Try again.”

“Oh I have one!” Emily said, pulling up her Snapchat memories. She had a photo of him conked out in a lecture last year. His mouth was open and his head conked back, fast asleep in a dimly lit lecture hall. Emily had taken a series of these photos before waking him up.

“Now that’s what i'm talking about,” Derek said.

“How can you fall asleep during lecture?” Spencer asked in horror.

Hotch shrugged.

“I was tired, we had a game the night before,” Hotch said. “Morgan: Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“I don’t know any dares,” Hotch looked around for help.

“He could play the tinder game?” Emily said.

“What tinder game?”

“Oh that’s a good one,” JJ said, “Derek opens tinder and we randomly tell him which way to swipe and see who he matches with.”

Derek groaned. Opening the app and placing it down onto the carpet.

“Right!” JJ said to start.

A match.

“Left?” Hotch said, it came out more like a question.

“Right,” Emily said. Another match.

Left, right, left, right. New message from a recent match, left, right, right, right, right. Derek looked on in horror.

“Ok I think he’s had enough,” Emily said with a laugh.

“Derek it’s your turn,” Penelope said.

Derek sighs in relief.

“Uhhh, Pretty Boy,” he turned to Reid. Thinking for a moment. “Have you ever smoked before?”

“Smoked what? Cannabis, tobacco? Something else. Be specific.”

Emily’s jaw dropped.

“I dunno man,” Derek said, “I was talking about weed but go off.”

“I have.”

“How?” JJ said, “You’re like sixteen! I haven’t even smoked weed.”

“Me neither,” Penelope said, sounding outright disappointed.

“I believe it,” Hotch said. “He has a Juul.”

“Seventeen now,” Spencer said. “Kids in my first degree found it funny when I performed actions that they deemed mature for my young age.

“What?” Penelope said. “But you were sixteen last week.”

“It was my birthday on Wednesday,” he said.

“And we missed it?” JJ asked.

Emily decided not to inform them that her birthday had been a few weeks back as well.

“It’s no big deal,” Spencer said, “I don’t really do birthdays.”

“Well I do birthdays!” Penelope said, “and you’re getting one.”

Emily could see the gears turning in Penelope’s head.

“Wait you haven’t smoked weed?” Emily said. She didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but hell, it was college.

“I’ve never been offered,” Penelope said with a shrug.

“You have a Juul, Spence?” JJ said.

He shrugged.

“Anyways,” Derek said with a laugh. “Reid it’s your turn to ask.”

And the game continued roughly the same for a few more rounds, with some truths, some dares, a lot of drinking and a fair amount of laughter.

Emily learned that JJ likes some angry rock music when she’s upset, that Penelope has committed several federal crimes, that Reid used to coach basketball in high school, that Derek has been posing nude for art classes on campus for extra cash, and that Hotch has never successfully completed a word search in his life.

The dares were limited, because frankly they were basically hiding out in a basement during what might actually be a tornado. Emily was dared to do an impression of Hotch, which wasn’t good and involved a lot of eyebrows and frowning. After, JJ was forced to leave her snapchat at Garcia’s mercy for the entire night. Other dares involved dancing, attempting gymnastics, and seeing whether or not Reid fit into the dryer. He did.

The game finally had played out when it was Hotch’s turn again to ask.

“JJ, what’s your greatest fear?” Hotch asked.

“Mr. Serious over here,” Derek said with a whistle.

“Probably the woods,” JJ replied.

“Why?” Spencer asked, tilting his head.

JJ grabbed a candle, holding it under her chin much like Reid did earlier.

“I used to be a camp counselor, when I was a teenager. In the woods up in Vermont.”

She leaned forward. Emily didn’t know she worked at a camp. It made sense. She pictured her in a camp t-shirt making a bracelet. It suited her.

“I had the night shift. I tucked the girls in, turned off the lights. The typical drill. Everything seemed fine; all the kids were asleep. You know, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.”

Another dramatic pause, both Spencer and Derek had leaned in, invested in the story.

“Until I noticed there was some blood, on the hallway floor. So, I followed the blood trail out to the camp director’s cabin, walked up to his bed and he was just lying there, underneath his covers. Dead!”

Penelope gasped. The room was silent.

“Someone stabbed him. I ran out of there so fast, out the door, down the hall. I just remember it… being really dark. Once I got to the door, there was another counselor there. I guess she heard me scream.”

JJ set the candle down, looking at the flame flicker. This couldn’t be real, Emily thought, this had to be a joke.

“They caught the caretaker on his way to town, I guess he still had the knife on him.”

“Anyway, I guess that’s probably when I decided I didn’t like the woods.”

“You’re serious?!” Derek demanded.

“No!” JJ said with a laugh. “You bought that! I’m kidding!”

“So are you afraid of the woods?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” JJ said, “They’re spooky I don’t know.”

They all laughed at that.

Emily glanced at her phone; they had been down here for almost two hours. According to Penelope’s intermittent checks on the status of the extreme weather, most of the city was experiencing black outs, but there was no sign of an actual tornado. They were still supposed to take shelter for the next hour or so, just in case.

In this time, Emily was close to five drinks in, with only one left in the basement. A growing pile of empties had built up around them, and Hotch had pulled out a small bottle of whiskey in addition to his beer, passing it around the circle. Having recently turned 17, the group had officially decided to give Spencer a beer, which he nursed slowly, wincing at the bitter taste.

“Emily,” JJ turned to her and looked mischievous. “Truth or dare?”

She felt her heart flutter.

“Truth.”

“Hmmm…” JJ said, “Where was the weirdest place you’ve ever had sex?”

Emily found herself blushing at the memory.

“Oh god,” Emily buried her face in her hands. “IHOP parking lot.”

“What?”

Emily nodded, downing the last of her beer.

“No further questions,” she proclaimed as she opened her next drink.

“I think that should conclude Truth or Dare,” Penelope said, “It’s time for another sleepover classic, since some of you are sleepover virgins.”

She grabbed Derek’s water bottle, plopping it down onto the carpet and spun it.

“Spin the bottle!”

Emily went pale. What was Penelope doing? She stared into her drunk, not daring to look at anyone else.

“That doesn’t seem very sanitary,” Spencer said.

“Boo,” Penelope, “You’re no fun. It’s a classic! And we’re all friends, it’ll be fun. Hotch you spin first.”

He looked horrified, but took the bottle. There was no getting in the way of Penelope Garcia’s will.

“The rules are simply: kiss or you have to finish your drink?,” Penelope said, “Got it?

Hotch nodded, he spun the bottle. It went around the circle, once, twice, three times, then landed clearly on himself.

“How do I kiss myself?” he said, deadpan.

“Drink!” Emily told him. He downed his last beer.

Derek spun next, rubbing his hands together nervously as it went around and around. It landed on Penelope.

“Come here, chocolate thunder!”

Derek took his baseball cap off, turning it backwards. Penelope pulled his shirt towards her, tugging on him as their lips met. They both closed their eyes, she could hear JJ giggle at the sight.

“Was that the only reason we’re playing this?” Spencer asked, “So that you could kiss Morgan?”

“Maybe?” Penelope, “What’s it to you, boy-genius!”

He put his hands up in surrender, it was his turn.

He spun the bottle awkwardly, so that it rocked back and forth in addition to spinning. It went around once before landing on JJ.

Emily wasn’t sure what to think about that. On one hand, he was just a kid and the kiss wouldn't be anything, but on the other hand, Emily was jealous that she didn’t get a kiss.

“Come here, Spence!” JJ said, making a grabbing motion at the boy and laughing.

He leaned in with his eyes closed, Emily wouldn’t be surprised if he told them he hadn’t done even this before. JJ put a hand on his face, turned it gently, and gave him a peck on the cheek.

Derek clapped him on the back and made a comment about it being ‘pretty boy’s first kiss,’ and Reid simply sat and blushed as he busied himself with drinking some of his beer.

Emily’s turn. She tried not to cross her fingers and pray for JJ, but it happened anyways. It landed on Derek. Emily sighed dramatically.

“Ewwww,” Emily mock protested.

“Come on, princess,” Derek jeered, “You know you want some of this!”

He lifted his t-shirt up and rubbed his hands down his abs.

“Put that away sir!” she covered her eyes.

“Oh come here,” she said, leaning in. They kissed on the lips with a loud ‘mwah!’ noise.

“That was cute,” Hotch commented.

Emily fake gagged, while Morgan tried to wipe her red lipstick off him.

Last was JJ in the circle. She spun it casually. Emily tried to read her facial expression, wondering if JJ, too, wanted it to land on Emily.

See, Emily was starting to believe that JJ liked her back. She was single, and for all Emily knew, she was straight, but the more Emily got to know her, she got queer vibes. She played soccer! Her nails were short and-

Emily couldn’t think of any other things that moment, as she was currently freaking out about the spin the bottle situation that was presently unfolding.

The moment in the bathroom, Emily thought, that was something! The way she looked at Emily… she was sure that she felt JJ’s eyes on her linger.

The bottle landed on Emily. They had to kiss. It was part of the game.

Holy shit.

Penelope squealed and Emily could feel the entire room's eyes on her, except JJ whose eyes were on the ground.

Emily could hear her heartbeat. She desperately wanted to kiss JJ but did she want to under these circumstances? For a dare?

JJ looked at her. Blue eyes staring into brown. She could hear her blood rushing in her ears. She found herself leaning forward, only slightly. JJ did the same. Her lips parted, her eyes hungry.

Emily shifted forward, she sat with her legs tucked under her, bracing herself with her arms. JJ was cross legged, her arms free to grab at her face. JJ’s hands tugged her forward.

Their lips met.

It was uncertain, chaste, soft. Then, JJ’s hands pulled her closer. They were pressed together, heads tilting so that their noses didn’t bump.

Jennifer Jareau was kissing her. They were kissing!

Emily’s brain short circuited. JJ filled her senses; the blonde’s vanilla perfume and soft lips and the taste of alcohol on her tongue.

Oh god, her tongue.

Emily did not want it to end. Their mouths opened and their tongues slid against each other, feeling so perfect and sending Emily’s blood racing away from her face and noticeably south.

JJ was incredibly hot and Emily desperately wanted to do more than kiss her. Or kiss her like this forever. Her ams were caressing her cheek and tangled in Emily’s hair, pulling her closer.

The lights flickered on; they had power, again. JJ pulled away from her, sharply.

Emily sat back, sitting up straight. The room was luckily too distracted by the lights to notice how out of breath Emily was. Or that they probably shouldn’t have passionately made out on a dare.

JJ wouldn’t meet her eye, but Emily could see her own lipstick on the other girl’s lips. Emily blinked at the bright light, started by the sudden return of the electricity after she had become accustomed to the dim light of the candle.

“What impressive timing,” Spencer murmured.

Taking the lights as a good sign, Penelope checked on the emergency alert. It was over and they were safe to go back upstairs. She found out that a few downed trees were the cause of the outage and there was never an actual tornado. No one was hurt but there was a bit of property damage throughout the city.

Without the atmosphere of the candle light, and the likelihood of a RA doing a check of the building, they decided that that was the end of their party. They gathered up their empties, and blew out the candles.

As they finished up cleaning, all making sure not to leave any trace of their illicit affairs, Emily tried to quell her racing heart and blushing face, completely unable to look anyone in the eye.

The door opened, their RA was there. Erin Strauss. She was a hardass.

“What are you all doing down here?” she demanded.

They all stood, stock still, jaws dropped, smelling of alcohol and clutching clinking tote bags.

“Erin,” Emily said, trying to sound as sober as possible despite the five plus drinks in her system, “We were simply following the directions on the emergency alert.”

“Yes! It said to seek shelter from the storm and the basement seemed the best for that,” Penelope said.

“Uhuh,” Erin said, “What’s in the bag?”

The bag clinked.

“Oh just some garbage,” Emily said, lying through her teeth. “We had some snacks.”

“Sure,” Erin said, not believing them.

Emily tried not to sway, but did not feel steady on her feet. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or her recent kiss with JJ.

For a second, Emily was sure that their RA would bust their asses, but the girl simply sighed and told them to go to bed, muttering about how dealing with non-existent tornadoes wasn't part of her job.

The six of them scurried upstairs, all freaked out about their near-miss with a write-up.

Reid disappeared up to his room, then JJ and Penelope walked down the hall to their’s. Emily slipped into Derek’s avoiding Erin Strauss’ watchful eye, helping Derek steady a very drunk Hotch.

Hotch, who had probably had a little too much of that whiskey, stumbled into Derek’s room and decided to sleep on the floor. Emily placed a water bottle next to him, and placed him in recovery position, glad for the distraction from the blush that refused to leave her face or the lingering taste of JJ on her lips.

She walked slowly down the hall back to her own room, the events of that evening playing back in her mind. She threw herself onto her bed, dazed by her situation.

Emily fell asleep with vampire make up still on her face that night.

#criminal minds #cm #criminal minds tv #jemily #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #gravelyhumerus cm college au #prentiss x jj #jemily cm #fanfiction #fanfic #criminal minds fic #my post #my writing #this is such a chaotic chapter!!!#enjoy!!!!

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark? (10)- Peter Parker x Stark! femReader

Word Count- 2157

Warnings- swearing, that’s it I think

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

Tony is waiting in the car with Happy after school on Monday. The paparazzi are loving it. They’re shouting both your’s and Tony’s name, trying to get pictures of the father/ daughter duo. You on the other hand are not loving it. Especially after he came home with a busted up Iron Man suit the other night, not willing to explain anything, and then left to spend almost the entire weekend at the Compound. “Why are you here?” You ask as you climb into the back seat.

“Oh I am great. It’s so good to see you too.” He ignores the question you ask and you roll your eyes. The mood he’s in reminds you of the person you met back when he told you you were moving in with him and you once again hate it.

“Fine, whatever, don’t explain anything. You’re shit at that too.” You pull out your phone, expecting Happy to start driving, but the car stays in one place. “Are we going?”

“Waiting on one more thing.” Tony says as Peter walks up to the car.

“Uh hi Mr. Stark, Y/N.” Your eyebrows furrow together as he gets into the car with you and your dad. “Thanks for the ride, but I really could have taken the subway to the lab.”

“I think he personally vendetta against the subway.” You say with another roll of your eyes. Peter smirks, remembering your conversation from the other day. You��re personally relieved that someone else is in the car so you don’t have to have an awkward ride with Tony, but at the same time, Tony and Peter- not quite the ride you wanted either.

“So how was MSST today?” Tony asks looking at both of you.

“The usual.” You reply, not wanting to give him anything.

“Pretty good.” Peter responds.

“How about German Y/N? Learn anything interesting today?” Oh he wants to play that game does he?

“I don’t know, how was Germany? See anything interesting there?” Peter looks at Mr. Stark over your head trying to figure out how much you know, but he gives Peter nothing.

“Just the usual Avenger stuff. But seeing as you seemed to have not gone to your lesson on Friday, I would think today would have been interesting.” So he knows you skipped, big deal. Instead of replying, you just shrug and put your attention on your phone. You can play the insolent teenager when you want to. “FRIDAY power off Y/N’s phone except for essential functions.” Your screen goes dark apart from your blood sugar readings.

“Really?” You meet his eyes. “You wanna do this now?”

“I’m trying to have a conversation with you.”

“No you’re trying to bring up stuff that happened while you were too busy off being an Avenger. Pepper already talked to me about it. Like family does.” It’s a low blow sure, but you’re feeling pissed off now. “But you would have known that if you hadn’t spent all weekend with your precious Avengers instead of at home with your family.” You spit the words at him.

“The Avengers are family.”

“Yours maybe. But you’ve been preaching at me about how you want to get to know me better. Then every chance you get you turn around and then leave. If you didn’t want me, you should have left me with Nana and Pops. Now you’re being rude to Peter. Talk to him. ‘Cause I’m done.” You cross your arms and won’t look at him.

“This is far from done.” Tony says. “You don’t get to throw at me that I don’t want you and then expect me to turn around and not to rebuttal it. Because that is the farthest thing from the truth.”

“Yeah? Because every time I call you, worried about you nonetheless, you tell me it’s not a good time or that you’re busy. You promise you’ll be home in twenty-four hours from a mission, then three days go by and I don’t even get a phone call telling me that something happened. I had to find out from other people, who won’t even tell me what happened. Then you come home in a busted up Iron Man suit, again won’t explain anything, but then turn around and spend the rest of the weekend at the Compound. That definitely screams that you want me. Shove me off on your girlfriend and your head of security. That doesn’t make me feel like I’m a burden to you at all. You won’t come to me unless I’m literally dying. Is that what needs to happen? I need to be actually dying to get the tiniest bit of attention? Because if that’s the case, being a Stark isn’t fucking worth it.” The words explode out of you and you can’t stop them. “You said you’re not the best at having a kid either, but you’re going to try your very best at it. This seems the farthest from that. And before you apologize for fucking up again, just know there’s only so many times you can say that before it loses it’s affect.”

Tony takes a breath before speaking, “you’re right. I did fuck up again. When you lay everything out, I’m doing a shit job again. But I promise you, you’re not a burden. You’re wanted in this family. I love you. Pep loves you. Happy, well I won’t speak for him, but I’m pretty sure he loves you too.”

“You’re loved kid.” Happy says from the front seat. “Sometimes more than the big guy. He just pays the bills.”

“Thanks Happy.” You didn’t mean to take your frustrations out on one of the people that has been here for you since all of this started. Peter notices the differences in how Happy acts with you, must be because you’re Tony’s kid.

“Definitely do not pull that dying stunt again because I have a heart condition and I can’t take seeing you in the med bay again. Ok? No you don’t have to be dying to get the little bit of attention, but Rhodey got badly injured.”

“Rhodey is injured? Is he ok?” You may have said the Avengers weren’t your family, but they are. And now you’re worried about your Uncle Rhodey- whoa where did that come from?

“He’s going to have to make some adjustments but he’s going to live. I was trying to make sure he was ok- or well trying to make him better than ok this weekend and I should have done a better job explaining that to you before I ran off. I’m still learning how to be a dad kiddo. And I’m going to break some eggs before I make an omelette.” Peter’s watching this interaction between you and your dad. It’s a whole different side to Mr. Stark. One who owns up to things when he’s done wrong but also wants to be better.

“Fine, but I better get an omelette in the end.” You say, only slightly kidding.

“You tell me what toppings you want and I’ll make sure you get it.” Tony says.

“Also give me my phone functions back,” You say before adding a please to the end.

“FRI turn her phone back on.” Tony says before adding, “You want to put some music on Y/N?”

“From my only subpar choices?” You tease him before asking FRIDAY to turn on your June playlist, even though the songs are getting a little old. But your top three playlists at the moment are June, I Hate My Life and Tony Stark Can Rot. The latter two you’re not going to ask FRIDAY to play in front of Peter, so June it is. House Of The Rising Sun by The Animals starts playing as Tony turns his attention towards Peter, who has fallen into the background as you and Tony had your argument.

“Sorry you had to witness that Mr. Parker, but as I mentioned to you in one of our other other conversations, she is very important to me, hence her education is very important to me. Can’t have her skipping class you know?”

“Of course not sir.” Peter’s eyebrows pull together and you stifle a laughter that is threatening to break free.

“Something funny kiddo?” Tony asks, eyeing you.

“Oh nothing. Social media. Yeet or be yeeted out there these days.”

“I think it’s actually yeet or be yoted.” Peter teases you.

“I disagree, good sir.” You tease back.

“I don’t know what this is that you’re talking about, but back to me.” Tony says from the other side of the car. “Now Peter, you’re a year ahead of Y/N correct?”

“Yes Mr. Stark.”

“Can you explain to her why science should be her favorite subject? Because I have tried a number of times and it has not hit home yet.”

“I uh- don’t think I can convince her of that.” Peter messes with the earbuds dangling from the neck of his shirt.

“You better be careful Dad, he might try to convince me to go to the dark side.”

“I’m sorry, the dark side?” Tony’s eyes go dark, staring Peter down, although he has no idea either where you’re going with this.

“Star Wars fan fiction. Super dark place.” You tease, not even looking up from your phone. “You should be proud, he offered and I said no. Can’t be going to the dark side at this point in time. What kind of legacy is that?”

“I swear I did no such thing. I actually said it would be no place for her, sir.” Peter throws his hands up. “I thought you were my friend Y/N. Friends don’t throw friends under buses like this.”

“I don’t think I like the two of you hanging out.” Your dad points a finger at the two of you.

“You wouldn’t take away one of the few friends I have would you?” You say looking at your dad with as close to puppy dog eyes as you can manage.

“Fine, I surrender. You can stay friends with Mr. Parker for right now. But no more threatening to go to the dark side, of any kind.” You laugh and turn back to scrolling through your phone.

You’ve scrolled Twitter and Instagram. You’re not going to risk Tumblr with Peter sitting next to you, so guess that means time to catch up on all your Snapchat streaks. Flipping over to the filters, you want to see what new ones there are today. The first couple have been there for the past few days, the puppy, the bear ears with glasses, and the heart ones. But then you spy one that makes you laugh. And it does say try it with friends. “Dad you have to try this with me.” You show him your screen as the Iron Man mask falls over your face and War Machine falls over his.

“No. I am Iron Man. Not Rhodey!” He practically shrieks.

“What’s wrong with being Uncle Rhodey?” You ask, not realizing it’s the first time the words leave your mouth.

“Nothing is wrong with being him. I just look better in red and gold. Fix it.”

“Download the app yourself. I have my own streaks to send.” You flip over to one of the other filters and your dad watches over your shoulder.

“No. Who are you sending that to?”

“Betty? We have a two hundred and thirty three day streak?” You explain.

“Pick a different filter.”

“Why?”

“Because you look fine as you are. You don’t need all these beauty filters dressing you up.” Tony couldn’t voice that he didn’t like the fact that it was making you look way older than you needed to be.

“You’re overreacting. Peter, what do you think?” You show him the snap.

“Uh you look nice no matter what Y/N. But I think the Iron Man one is way cooler.” Peter says.

“Ugh you guys are the worst.” You retake the picture with the Iron Man filter and send it to Betty.

“Much better.” Your dad says. “Now how do I get a streak with you?”

“You aren’t cool enough to have a streak with me.” He places his hand over his heart.

“Ouch you wound me so kiddo.”

“Right back at you.” You send pictures to your other streaks before you see a request for a new friend on Snapchat- peter_p has friended you. You hit accept and send him a similar Iron Man filtered pic. Peter surprises you with a pic of your dad with the War Machine filter over him that you screen grab before the time runs out. You set it as your dad’s caller ID photo, and can’t help when the giggle escapes your mouth.

“What’s so funny?” Tony asks, trying to look at your phone.

“Nothing.” You and Peter both say, which definitely doesn’t convince Tony.

“I’m never letting the two of you ride together again.”

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fan fic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #happy hogan #Pepper Potts #peter parker imagine #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?

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nazario-sayeed · 5 years

Text

Vulnerable (Mal x F!Elf)

Summary: I used two prompts I found here on tumblr to write this fic: "I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned.” and “Do you think they can hear us through the tent?” “Yes, we can.” I think that's pretty self explanatory isn't it

Author’s note: This is my first Mal x MC fic but I already have a few others planned, hopefully I'll work on them soon. I named it after Vulnerable by Selena Gomez, so that's my recommendation for today. English is not my first language.

Word count: the last time i checked it had 2.1k words but I added some things.

Warnings: it’s not exactly smut but it’s close. Some swearing too, a bit of angst.

Masterlist

Tagging: @moonlightfreya @soft-for-drake @dailydoseofchoices @nyastarlight @magdagamaleldin @otomegamesaremydrug @brightpinkpeppercorn @laragazzaconunsogno @magdagamaleldin @virtuallytakenby

permanent tag list: @lahelalove @donutsgirl36 @queenkaneko @msjpuddleduck @flyawayboo @jlpplays1 @desireepow-1986 @embarrassingsmartphonegame @mfackenthal @cerisesayeed-ramsey @malsvolari

Trying to get the shards meant spending a lot of their time moving around Morella, following the leads from one place to another and camping in unusual and unfamiliar places. They were used to it; Myriani went hunting, Nia and Tyril set up camp, Mal collected fruits and plants they could eat, Imtura chopped down wood to make a fire, Threep kept sleeping unbothered. They had a routine, and they were good at it.

By the time the sun went down, they were gathered around the fire, passing the flask with ale between each other and listening to the same stories they had heard Mal tell at least 10 times- something about contessas and alcohol. None of them bothered listening anymore. Somewhere along the bumpy road, their party became quite close. Two elves, two humans, an orc and a nesper sounded like the beginning of a joke, but somehow they worked well together. They protected each other, fought for each other and enjoyed each other's company- even Tyril was caught smiling every now and then.

They were all exhausted that night, so they went to their tents right after they ate whatever animal it was that Mariani had hunted for them. That night was colder than they were used to; winter was showing its first signs. Their tents were set up close to the fire that they hoped would last all night.

Myriani couldn’t sleep; she kept tossing and turning in her tent until she gave up sleep altogether with a sigh. She couldn't stop thinking about her brother- everyday they got closer to finding the next shards, but they still had so much ahead of them. With each passing day, the possibility of finding him felt more and more thin.

She closed her eyes and let her elf senses feel the atmosphere around her, trying to sense some peace within the woods around her and fall asleep. Instead, she felt that the person in the tent next to hers wasn’t sleeping either. Mal.

I could go join him in his tent, she thought to herself. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve slept together, in the literal meaning of the word. Kissing and sleeping together. That's all they had done so far- sneaking in each other's tents or rooms to make out until both of them passed out, usually too exhausted to do more. But she wanted more. Sometimes she wanted him so badly it hurt. She knew he wanted her too; whenever they were kissing and she straddled him, she could clearly feel just how badly he wanted her.

When they were alone together, sometimes she caught glances of the real Mal, the man underneath the character he had built for himself. He seemed vulnerable and real for a few seconds- but before she could truly appreciate it he went back to his act. She liked his flirty and carefree personality, but behind his crooked smirk and teasing comments there was a real man who she liked even more. In the mornings after they had spent the night together, when they were with the group again, he always pretended nothing had happened. He came back to telling his many tales as an adventurer, his sex escapades and whatever else he thought would fit his reputation best. She didn't know if she ever expected anything different, but she couldn't deny it stung a little.

She debated on her head if she should really go to his tent, even if she already knew she would eventually give in- so she did. She silently got out of her tent and crawled to his, carefully opening it. When she poked her head through the tent, she saw Mal instinctively reaching for the dagger he kept by his side, relaxing when he realized it was her.

“You should be more careful next time. I was close to throwing a dagger at you” he said with a smirk and she rolled her eyes, climbing in the tent and closing it behind her.

“I’d like to see you try, Mal the Magnificent” she said back and he let out an amused chuckle, leaning back and resting his head on his crossed arms.

“Did you come into my tent to challenge me for a duel or do you have something else in mind?” he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. She rolled her eyes again and threw the pillow she had brought with her at him, feeling glad that the poor lighting wouldn’t let him see the blush on her cheeks.

“Get your mind out of the gutter” she said, laying down next to him, blaming their proximity on the small space of the tent. She could barely make out his face in the dark, the only light coming from the fire burning weakly outside their tent.

“I just couldn’t sleep, and I knew you were still up so…” she trailed off, and he turned to face her, searching for her eyes.

“What’s keeping you awake, kit?” he asked and she could tell it was an honest question, like he actually cared about the answer. About her, even.

“It’s just… this journey has been the most exhausting thing I’ve ever been a part of, but it’s also the most fun I ever had. It’s a bittersweet feeling because I’m having the time of my life finally living the adventure I always dreamed of, but Kade isn’t here to share it with me. It was his dream too and I….” her voice broke. “I don’t know. I wish he was here too.”

Mal reached between them to give her hand a small squeeze.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to bring your brother back, Myriani. But if there’s one team that can do it, it’s ours” he said, sounding more optimistic than she could ever remember him being. She could feel the honesty on his voice.

“Mal, was that you being supportive and optimistic? What’s happening to you?” she asked him with fake concerned, and he laughed.

“Your lot has been a bad influence on me. Mostly you and the priestess” she couldn’t see the smile on his face but she could hear it.

“You probably can’t wait to get rid of us huh” she tried to tease him, hoping it had sounded casual enough. The truth was that deep down, she was scared he would agree. She knew Mal was lonely wolf, that he went where he could find the best opportunity for him. But after all of these weeks they had spent together- kissing, talking, getting to know each other- some part of her hoped he wouldn’t leave as soon as their mission was over. She didn’t know exactly what she expected, but she wished she had time with him after all of this to figure it out.

“I…” he started, hesitating for one second too long to make Myriani instantly regret what she had said. Before she could say anything to take it back, he went on, his confident tone back “Nah, you’re not all bad. I turned out liking you a lot more than I originally planned”

"Are you going soft on me now?" she asked, her voice too shaky to be casual. He smiled and instead of answering he tentatively moved his hand that was on top of hers to her hips, her skin on fire where he was touching her over her clothes.

“Mal…” she whispered, closing her eyes as his hands move up her sides to the back of her neck, his calloused hand caressing her skin.

“I don’t think I wanna talk anymore. Do you?" he said, his voice just the right amount of teasing and seriousness. She knew he was dodging her question, but at that moment, she didn't give a fuck.

Instead of answering him, Myriani pressed her lips to his in a soft kiss. He let out a soft gasp and pulled her closer, deepening the kiss.

She threw her legs over his hips before he could react, straddling him. He barely had time to groan his approval before she leaned down and kissed him more passionately.

Mal moaned softly into her mouth as she grabbed his long hair and pulled it hard. His hands explored her sides, her hips, her backside- anywhere he could find. With each second, their kiss grew more heated and their movements were more intense.

One of her hands slid under his shirt, feeling his firm muscles reacting to her touch. She traced every line of his stomach with her hand, tracing the hair there with her fingers to where it disappeared under his pants. Just as her hand brushed the waistband of his pants, she pulled back from him, making him groan his disapproval.

“Take off your shirt, please” he could tell by her tone it wasn't a request- it was an order.

"So polite..." He teased, making a show of removing the shirt.

As soon as his shirt was off, she leaned down to kiss him again. More heated, more passionate, rougher. She traced kisses down his jaw and neck, biting him with just enough strength to leave a mark.

His own hands didn’t stop exploring her body, pushing her skirt over her long legs, until his hands were above her knees, sliding closer and closer to where she was now aching for him. She rolled her hips on top of him, moving in a way that could only be described as griding on the very obvious bulge on his pants. It felt so good, it felt too good- they couldn't help the cry that left both of their mouths.

They kept kissing and touching each other, his hands already undoing the laces on her clothes when she heard something outside the tent. She froze and pulled back, attentitve to every movement and sound around them.

It was dark, but she could only imagine what they looked like at that moment. Him with his shirt off, his hair a mess from all the pulls she gave it, his lips swollen and his neck and chest already showing some of the marks she left there. Her with the laces on her outfit half undone, her skirt hiked to her waist barely covering her hips. Both of them panting, trying to catch a breath.

“Did you hear that?” She whispered. He stopped, trying to listen to whatever she had heard. But his senses weren't as heightened as hers.

“Hear… what?” He said back, don’t minding the interruption and sliding his hands up her bare legs “The only sound I heard was you moaning and-“

"Shh!" She put a finger to his lips to shut him up and there was the sound again, like someone shuffling around but trying to keep quiet.

Only then she seemed to remember they were in a tent in the middle of the woods with four of their companions sleeping a few feet away. Very exposed, not at all alone. She thought they were all asleep when she sneaked out but… Myriani and Mal hadn’t been exactly quiet, someone could've easily woken up. She heard a quiet cough and Mal seemed to have heard it this time too, because she could feel his body tensing up under her.

“Do you think they can hear us through the tent?” She asked in a low voice that she hoped only Mal could hear.

“Yes, we can” all of their companions- Tyril, Nia, Imtura and even Threep- said in unison. Tyril sounded exhausted, Nia sounded embarrassed and Imtura sounded amused. Threep sounded like a mix of all three. Well, if they heard that, they definitely heard everything else, she thought to herself.

Mal’s and Myriani’s eyes met in the dark and although some part of them felt embarrassed to have been overheard by their group while they heavily made out in the middle of the night, they burst out laughing together. She was laughing so hard she fell on top of him, trying to muffle the sound by burying her face onto his chest while he rubbed her back trying to calm her down- but he was laughing just as hard.

Outside the tent they head a long sigh.

“Can you please, please stop? Some of us want to get some sleep before we have to spend all day tomorrow traveling through the woods” Tyril was done with their bullshit. They heard a small chuckle in the tent next to theirs- Imtura.

“Sorry, guys. We’ll tone it down” Myriani said, still feeling low-key amused.

“I much appreciate it. Goodnight” Tyril said, annoyed; this time Mal and Myriani managed to hold back their laugh.

“We’ll pick up from here another day?” She said to Mal with a smirk, his hands on her back.

“You better be fucking sure we will” he pulled her face down for one last kiss before she climbed out of him and let him wrap his arm around her, his bare chest to her back. She was at least 10 inches taller than him but somehow they made it work. She felt comfortable sleeping with his arms around her.

He kissed the back of her neck and she let out a content sigh, snuggling against him.

“Goodnight, Mal”

“Night, kit”

She felt his breath on the back of her neck and his heart beating against her back- it felt so right to be like that. She ignored the part of her brain that kept telling her this would end with a goodbye and a broken heart. At that moment, it was enough to feel his arms holding her close. She could let herself be vulnerable and hoped he would too.

#blades of light and shadow #mal volari #mal x mc #playchoices #choices #fanfic #fanfiction #fic

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emmarzhere · 4 years

Text

So, new Sanders Sides came out today... (oops this became a mini essay)

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SO MANY FEELINGS. TOO MANY FEELINGS.

I love animatics at the best of times so having a 20 minute fully canon one buttered my croissant!

And just- the levels of pure cuteness had me squealing at Patton levels of excitements, ESPECIALLY after Roman’s line to Virgil about bravery!!!!!

Then I was hit by a short spell of depression got brought up as it looks like the coolest patreon ever (like it’s JANUS themed??? My heart cannot take this abuse!) and it’s the first one I’ve ever been super desperate to sign up to but hey I have a total of 30p in the bank so my dreams flew out the window :((((((((

But then my soul was immediately restored by FRICKING HAPPY VIRGIL!!!!!!! THE DARK STRANGE SON WITH HIS FLIPPING PURPLE EYESHADOW LEGIT I HAD TO PAUSE MY VIDEO AND SQUISH MY OWN CHEEKS IN ADORABLENESS AT SEEING IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I MUST DRAW IT AT SOME POINT. I JUST MUST.

Now some less happy points about this Sanders Sides (though not gonna look too far into it because I’ve just watched it and these are my first thoughts) - I’m getting EXTREMELY worried about Logan - after the last Sanders Sides where he made it clear that he felt unwanted, and now not even making an appearance here to try and keep the storm of emotions this episode was...it’s rather concerning. If it wasn’t for the absolute mess that was Roman’s emotional state I’d think that the next main episode would focus on validating Logan.

(Gack just hit me that I see this series as proper “episodes” now. How far Sanders Sides has come from the first video is astounding and makes me feel so much pride for Thomas and the team behind him!!!)

Anyways that leads on to another worry - Roman. GOd it’s clear the poor prince is suffering!!! It’s been obvious for a while that the prideful side has been having some confidence issues after several bashings to his ego (starting at around the time of Crofters: The Musical I believe) and it was obvious the last episode ended...badly for him to say the least, but some of the lines in this episode tugged my heartstrings right out! The bit that I think stuck with me and others if the comments were anything to go by was the bit about adding to the list of mistakes - it’s one thing for an average person to admit they make mistakes, but it’s a whole different thing for ROMAN to do so! He’s normally extremely reluctant to admit he’s wrong, and while it could be seen as character development for him to say it as he did, it feels more like he’s just lost faith in himself, in a bad way. He was rather self deprecating throughout the video when compared to normal, admitting sadly that he was “desperate”, and the line “it’s probably for the best.” just hurt my soul SO BAD. He’s clearly vulnerable, but the others tend to ignore it a lot due to him being the prideful side who CaNt PoSsIbLy HaVe SeLf EsTeEm PrObLemS!!!

But here’s the thing - Roman represents Thomas’ pride, but what if there’s not much pride there to begin with? It’s possible instead that Roman’s feeling Thomas’ doubt as well as his own if there isn’t much self confidence to run off.

Speaking of Thomas, there’s definitely some issues growing there that add to my belief that Thomas, and therefore Roman aren’t feeling very glittery at the moment. I mean I know the whole episode was about his social anxiety - a major problem in a lot of people’s lives, but it was the ending that worried me.

It was how Thomas was the one to question if they were ready for this step of having a relationship. Even Virgil had not thought of questioning this yet. Thomas got anxious and worried about something before THE SOURCE OF HIS ANXIETY had even thought about questioning it!

It could be possible that this worry originated from another side, either Patton feeling mixed about their last relationship, Janus maybe getting a seed of doubt planted or even one of Roman’s internal worries coming out through Thomas as he refuses to talk about his own problems (Roman holds up a façade a lot of the time, and I feel like the next ep might address some of his issues that he keeps putting off dealing with), though I still feel like the problem resonates with just Thomas. It feels like the series has been hinting at Thomas having a big mental breakdown at some point in the future as everything gets more convoluted, and this is just another step closer to that breaking point.

Finally: Janus. I mean, it doesn’t take an expert to see just how badly crafted the lies Thomas came up with in this episode were, I mean, I saw comments joking about how that Janus and Patton were just having fun in the mindscape and Janus was just getting more annoyed every time he was subconsciously summoned to throw together a lie for Thomas, just throwing together whatever he could be bothered to on the spot before leaving to continue his conversation. However I think there may be something behind it. I believe that Deceit really is trying to change and fit in more with the other sides (at least I really damn hope that the snake boi wasn’t just deceiving us all once again). He seems to truly believe Thomas is a good person, and either wants what’s best for Thomas, aka. not starting this possible good relationship with a bunch of lies so make the lies bad enough to not hold up, or he’s trying to continue to earn the other side’s trust, but trying to prove he’s not just a cunning reptilian rapscallion who leads Thomas down the wrong path. Who knows, he might even be trying to stop Thomas from lying??

Though it’s almost 546.89% confirmed that I’m just really, REALLY overanalysing this as a person who is literally writing down the first thoughts after watching the video once and thinking through the thoughts for a total of 30 seconds as Tumblr opened up before writing this down.

Plus I love angst a tad too much. So half these issues probably aren’t present in the first place.

Anyways wow congrats for reading this far if you’re still actually looking through my “short first thoughts” that quickly became an essay and went a bit deeper than I meant it to go, and thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

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incomingalbatross · 4 years

Note

Met online asks: the Psmith series, predictably?

I am at long last getting to this! (and what, no, I wasn’t expecting this one at all... :P )

So I think what stymied me here is that... Mike is almost certainly a lurker online. I can imagine Psmith being a Personality easily, but Mike probably spends his time in the internet as inconspicuously as he can. And they need to meet as equals, obviously, so you can’t have just one be Internet Famous at the start...

BUT. Once I started typing, it worked out pretty well!

So here we go:

Mike has Facebook and Twitter and so on, partly for keeping up with IRL connections but mostly to keep up with cricket and his brothers. Tweets almost exclusively about cricket (though also about TV shows he’s currently into), actually has followers who don’t know him IRL because he has Informed Takes

His Twitter account is old enough that it’s not connected to his real name, and he doesn’t identify himself either because he doesn’t like the notoriety of being the Youngest Jackson Brother when he’s not even playing... what do you even call it? Do you call it playing pro cricket, nowadays? You know what I mean. He’s probably still in high school

So yeah his online presence isn’t explicitly connected to the rest of his family’s. His brothers follow him, but they’re not very active on Twitter, and personal communication in the Jackson family is mainly over group text, so the fact that they’re related doesn’t really show

Psmith, meanwhile, has a Twitter account that jumps randomly from topic to topic, depending on whatever the heck he’s thinking about at the moment. It’s constant Psmith Monologuing thrown out into the void, just what the internet was made for

His Twitter display name is Psmith and his handle is something like @ therealpsmith. No one’s sure if it’s supposed to be his last name or if his name is P. Smith or what.

(It feels weird making up Twitter accounts for them in response to an ask from you... but this AU has different goals and so I do need different Twitter presences for them. And I can’t see Mike on Tumblr at all, so that’s not an option)

Since this is an AU, I think they can initially connect over cricket. Psmith follows Mike first, and tends to retweet a fair amount of his cricket takes with his own added commentary. After enough of this (since Mike isn’t so high-profile that he doesn’t notice a new regular interacter) Mike goes and checks out his Twitter

It’s not all cricket and a lot of it is diatribes about whatever’s annoyed Psmith today. But they’re witty and entertaining diatribes, and Mike ends up following him

Before long Psmith starts up a long thread about something Mike’s already been stewing over--a plot development in a TV show they both watch, maybe? Not sure

But anyway Mike starts commenting/retweeting/arguing with other people who disagree, because the thing in question is Stupid and Wrong and the fact that people think otherwise bothers him on a personal level

And then Psmith DMs him like “The cricket connoisseur has come to my aid! I am gratified by your assistance,” and then starts talking to him, personally, about why the thing is Dumb and Wrong

From this they start chatting/interacting more regularly. Mike is, obviously, less loquacious than Psmith, and I don’t think their friendship solidifies quite as quickly as in canon just because they aren’t doing things together, but they still click

At some point Psmith’s bemoaning the fact that he’s so constrained by Twitter’s character limit (unlike Mike, who is “the strong, silent type, admirable suited to the medium”) and starts talking about how to fully express himself he should really have a podcast

Mike: “Why don’t you, then?”

Psmith: “You are right. Why not? Here we see the strength of a true man of action--direct and to the point. Why SHOULDN’T I start a podcast?”

Annnd then he ropes Mike into doing it with him so he’ll have someone to talk to. Mike insists, however, on only using his first name, because he doesn’t want this to reflect badly in his brothers if it goes horribly wrong

So they start a nominally-about-cricket (since that’s their biggest shared thing) podcast, called simply “Mike and Psmith”

(There’s probably a joke somewhere in their eventual fanbase about it being “Mic and Psmith,” since Psmith’s doing 80% of the talking)

Between their dynamic and Psmith’s ability to talk, it’s surprisingly successful--it bounces all over the place, topic-wise, but they’re just fun to listen to

While they’re not, like, Buzzfeed Unsolved levels of well-known, they get a decent-sized fanbase

(There’s a long-running fandom debate over whether Psmith is actually Like That or if the show’s scripted. It will probably never be permanently resolved)

They also start a YouTube channel for playing video games and so on--partly because listeners wanted to see it, but partly because they just like hanging out and doing stuff together

Mike has not told his family about any of this, BTW, because he’s too self-conscious about being mildly internet famous, but one day Margery stumbles across the show. He’s in for a lot of teasing

I honestly don’t know how they meet IRL--I’m torn between A) them just video-chatting eventually, learning each other’s actual names, and meeting up at a cricket match, and B) them meeting coincidentally, in some completely different capacity, and recognizing each other by their voices

Either way, though, once they meet they keeping meeting and eventually end up room/flatmates once they both move away from home (if Mike’s planning to play cricket, would he go to college? Would modern Mike be planning to play cricket for a living? I don’t know these things so I’m leaving that vague)

“Moving in with someone you made friends with online” is not always a recipe for success, but it works out for them. They were already best friends, but now they can actually do stuff together! It really just solidifies their friendship for good

(Not that there isn’t friction--the number of Shenanigans Psmith drags Mike into has vastly increased, for one thing--but it all works out, in the end)

Their podcast is an essential part of their routine, by now. I’m not sure how it develops over the years, but it stays pretty low-key... the core of it is still just two best friends hanging out, and that works

(At some point in the future, the cast may expand to "two best friends and their wives, who are also best friends,” but that’s another story, and one I don’t know well enough to say for sure)

#psmith #mike jackson #isfjmel-phleg #ask games #thank you for this one!#it was fun once i got it going #and there REALLY should be a Part 2 with the girls but i don't know if it'll happen #(if anyone else wants to come up with that one please do!)#there need to be Internet Identity Shenanigans in that of course #too much wodehousian potential there to pass up #(and i almost went there for mike and psmith but i felt it should maybe be saved for psmith and eve)#this had less Emotional Drama than the psych one but i think that fits them okay?#not that i'm OPPOSED to Emotional Drama it just didn't come up the same way #also wasn't expecting them to become podcasters but i enjoy the mental images of that #and psmith needs to use the internet to talk SOMEHOW right #too good a venue to pass up #WAIT 'Nominally About Cricket' is their tagline

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mimi-cee-hq · 5 years

Text

Yahaba’s Type - Yahaba x Reader (Part 2 of 2)

[Masterlist]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Summary:

Although Y/n was known as the clown friend, she wasn’t very comfortable around Yahaba. But that started to change when she saw him awkwardly practising his tosses by himself.

Match-up Request:

Hi I’m here for a match up request~ I’m tall (about 1.80) with blonde middle length hair & light brown eyes I’m a bit plump (usually thin but lately I’ve put on some weight) & sometimes I get self conscious about it 😬 been playing volleyball for 10 years as a middle blocker & my team’s ace ☺️ I also enjoy drawing a lot whenever I have free time Im THAT clown friend who gets really happy whenever people laugh with my jokes & I try to cheer people up that way whenever I see someone being down -🦋

So I found out that actually can save my answers as drafts (but only in the app??). *shrugs* Still learning how to use Tumblr.

Yahaba’s Type - Yahaba x Reader

Words: 2,066

Yahaba took a glance at the second floor before their practice match had started. As they warmed up for the match, he felt like his serves and sets were on point today. He was glad that his setting practice with Y/n had paid off. Chiaki and Y/n decided to watch their game today when Chiaki heard about it. She wanted to know what kind of teammates Kyotani had and wondered how they treated him. Y/n came along as well, which was probably the first time she had ever watched their games. But there were times when he wondered if she should have come.

The match started off with Yahaba’s serve. After bouncing the ball a couple of times, he threw the ball in front of him and ran up to it for his jump serve. But as it hit the top of the net, he held his breath until the volleyball had fallen onto the opponent’s side of the court. He let out a sigh of relief. But that didn’t last long because he heard Y/n shouting at the top of her lungs. “Kya~~! You’re so cool, Yahaba!”

Yahaba quickly turned his head up to her direction to see her laughing her head off. He got a bit annoyed at her since he knew she was just messing around. She wouldn’t have been impressed by his jump serve because she knew how to do one as well. Also, getting a point from a net serve already wasn’t very cool in itself. She was probably just mimicking Oikawa’s fan girls that he had told her about. Now he regretted ever telling her about them.

He gave her a smirk just before his next serve. He made sure she was still watching him. His next serve was a powerful one that he aimed at the other team’s spike-haired libero. When the libero missed his serve, he gave Y/n a smug grin. In response, she gave him a thumbs up and smiled.

“Well someone is showing off again,” said Kindaichi. Yahaba straightened up, remembering that he was in the middle of a match.

“What did you expect?” commented Kunimi. “He’s always been like that.”

As Yahaba got the ball back and walked back to the serving line, Y/n yelled out, “You’d better not miss your next serve!” She then said with a laugh, “Otherwise I’ll expose all of your secrets!”

Yahaba flinched at the thought. He didn’t want his team to know how much he had been practising outside of their usual practices.

“Since when have they been close?” Watari asked Kyotani. He just shrugged in response.

Yahaba didn’t expect them to notice that they were more comfortable with each other now. But with how Y/n was treating him, he shouldn’t have been surprised. The two of them had unintentionally continued to practise with each other for the past few months. He wasn’t planning on continuing their practices together, but he saw how much he had improved because of them.

When their opponents were able to get their first point, Seijoh got ready to receive their serve and attack. But when Yahaba set the ball to Kyotani, it was too high for him to reach. Luckily, Kunimi was somehow able to cover for him, even though it gave the other team a chance ball.

The next few times Yahaba tried to set, he kept on messing up. His fingers felt stiff. He didn’t know what was wrong because he had felt great during the warm up. Yahaba started to feel frustrated because he knew he was failing his team and they needed him. He was now their starting setter and captain. How were they supposed to beat Karasuno the next time around if he was already screwing up this match? He started to wonder if all of the extra practice with Y/n was useless.

Suddenly, he heard Y/n yell out a cheer. “Go, go, let’s go, let’s go, Dateko!”

The court was silent as they stared at the second floor to where Y/n stood. The Seijoh players were the first to break the silence with their laughter.

“What the heck is wrong with her?” said Kindaichi while he laughed hard enough for tears to come out of his eyes.

“Not only is she not cheering for us, but we’re not even playing against Dateko!” added Watari as he held his stomach while laughing.

Yahaba covered his laughter with his mouth. He also found it hilarious but he was equally embarrassed by her. She must have noticed that he was starting to panic. The rest of the team was doing well except for him

As the rest of the court continued to laugh, Y/n justified her actions by saying that their cheer was catchy. She even sang along when her own team played a match against them. She thought it was a lot better than their school’s cheer.

Yahaba then saw the referee remove the whistle from her mouth and turned to Y/n. “Y/n! If you disrupt this match again, you’ll be kicked out and you’ll have to run a hundred laps around the school during next practice!”

Y/n stood up straight and replied, “Yes, ma'am!” She pretended to zip her mouth to show that she had understood.

“I forgot that we got the girls’ team’s coach as the ref,” Kindaichi mentioned to Kunimi.

“If she’s the team’s captain, it must be pretty chaotic with her there,” added Kunimi.

Yahaba felt a bit of second-hand embarrassment from what Y/n just did. But because of her joke, he was able to calm down.

He realized how cold his fingers were. As he breathed on his hands, he remembered when he had jammed his fingers at the community center. Y/n had taken his hands and worried over them. He remembered how soft and warm her hands had been. So even though Yahaba had been trying to warm up his hands, he felt his cheeks heat up instead.

After the practice match had ended, Yahaba walked off the court and grabbed his water bottle for a drink. Y/n walked down from the second floor and the tall middle blocker from the other team approached her.

“We should go to the udon place that’s nearby,” stated the intimidating guy with a large build.

“Oh,” said Y/n with a nervous smile. “I’m not really interested.”

“But it’s really good!” he continued to insist.

Yahaba walked up to the guy who was pestering Y/n and tried to stare him down even though he was more than two meters tall. “She said she’s not interested,” Yahaba sternly told him. It’s not like he hadn’t dealt with troublesome people before. He didn’t want Y/n to deal with him by herself.

“What are you doing?” asked Y/n as she raised an eyebrow. “He’s a friend from junior high.” She continued to explain that a group of them were planning a reunion. She had said she wasn’t interested because she didn’t really like udon. She was more of a rice person.

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Yahaba thought to himself.

“Sorry Hyakuzawa,” Y/n apologized with a smile. Kindaichi and Kunimi snickered at Yahaba for trying to be cool. He just told them to shut up.

As Yahaba walked away from the scene, Kyotani leaned on the wall with his arms crossed. “So what happened to having a type?” he asked with a smirk. He still held a grudge against him after all these months.

“Ugh, I don’t have one, okay?” Yahaba responded in frustration.

*****

After another night at the community center, Y/n plopped on her bed out of exhaustion. Her mom scolded her to at least take a shower. She did what she was told and got ready for bed. She checked her phone and saw a couple of texts from Yahaba.

Yahaba: Did you get home okay?

Yahaba: Since you’re not replying, I’ll just go sleep now. Night.

There was also another text that had appeared about an hour later.

Yahaba: I hope you dream of me

Y/n especially blushed at the last one. She didn’t remember him being a flirt. She knew there was no way he meant that. But a silly grin still formed on her mouth as she tried to lay on her bed to sleep. Unfortunately, it turned out that she was right. The next morning she saw one more text from him.

Yababa: I’m sorry! My sister texted that! Ignore that last one!

She knew that she should have known better. She sighed. It was harder to get over her growing crush on him.

She took a second look at the texts. She realized that he must have been exhausted for his sister to have the opportunity to use his phone. She wondered if they should cut down on their practices together.

Later at school, Y/n asked Chiaki if she was still free to come over for some home karaoke. She replied that she was.

“Can I come?” asked Kyotani.

Y/n had to blink a few times before she excitedly asked, “You want to sing?! Are you serious?!”

“No, I want to watch Chiaki sing.” Kyotani replied.

“Well that makes a lot more sense,” she laughed.

“Did you want to come?” Kyotani asked Yahaba.

“Why would I want to come?” asked Yahaba.

“You should come too! It’ll be fun!” said Y/n.

Kyotani didn’t really care was his response would be so he started to walk away with Chiaki. But Yahaba decided to tag along anyway.

When they arrived at Y/n’s house, her dad greeted Yabaha. But he flinched when Kyotani realized that he had been going to the community center.

“I guess your secret is out,” laughed Y/n. Since Kyotani knew her dad as well, he nodded to greet him.

The four of them sat in the living room. Kyotani and Chiaki sat on the large couch and Yahaba took the other end. Y/n set up the karaoke machine.

Chiaki sang a ballad beautifully. Y/n belted out a different song and sung badly on purpose. “Yay! I got a 68!” cheered Y/n. Her best friend found the whole thing hilarious like usual. Yahaba wondered why he came in the first place.

When Chiaki started to whistle to one of the songs, Y/n tried to whistle too. She couldn’t whistle at all. But she was being stubborn and kept trying anyway.

“You look stupid,” said Yahaba. “You’re getting your spit everywhere.” In response, she purposely got closer to him to tease him some more. “Ugh! Stop doing that!”

But Y/n still didn’t stop. It was kind of fun annoying him and the other two found it hilarious. Yahaba didn’t know how to make her stop. So he kissed her.

Y/n froze. She didn’t understand what had just happened. Yahaba smirked at her. But then his attempt to look cool failed him and his face became just as red as hers.

“W- What was that?!” Y/n freaked out. “Why would you do that?!” She tried to cover her blush with her hands. “You should only do that to someone you like!”

Yahaba looked away as he replied, “So it’s fine then.” He hid his face with his hands when Y/n realized that he admitted to liking her.

“B- But,” she continued to panic, “I’m not even your type.”

“I don’t have a type anymore,” he replied. “It’s just you.”

For once, Y/n was silent. She was trying to process the whole thing. She never expected Yahaba to like her back. She then smiled at the thought that he liked her enough for his type to be irrelevant over these past few months.

She took the seat beside him and inched a bit closer. The two still couldn’t make eye contact with each other. They both tried to steal a glance from each other, but when their eyes met, they quickly turned away again. Kyotani and Chiaki just stared at their awkwardness.

“Yahaba,” Y/n’s dad said in a deep voice. Y/n and Yahaba both flinched, not realizing that her dad was there. “I was wondering when you’d finally say something,” he said with a smirk.

*****

Extras that didn’t fit in the story:

Since Yahaba likes ikura don and Y/n likes rice dishes, they eat it all the time on dates.

Kyotani is actually pretty observant since he was conscious of his old teammates talking behind his back. But because he’s stubborn, reckless and just does his own thing anyway, it doesn’t really show through.

Chiaki is the cunning, protective type that looks innocent, but only Kyotani and Y/n know that.

I wanted Y/n to be the daughter of the guy from the community center who watched the Seijoh vs Karasuno match. But if she was, Y/n would have a (last) name. lol.

I hope you liked it! I actually had a hard time getting “clown funny” down. Other types of funny come more naturally to me (like sarcastic, teasing, and punny.) So I got some ideas from the webtoon Odd Girl Out with Mirae as a character model.

I also had a working name for Y/n because I write better that way. I might also post on fanfiction.net with the working name because they technically don’t allow reader-inserts. But I might not do it because it’s more work. lol. I actually initially started posting stories on FFN.

Check out my other stories too. :) I’m hoping to build a collection of them with all of the requests.

[Part 1] [Part 2]

[Masterlist]

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #yahaba x reader #yahaba shigeru #haikyuuwritersnet #haikyuu!!#next gen captains #pretty setter squad #seijoh #aoba johsai #aoba jōsai #haikyuu requests #haikyuu matchup #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fanfic #mimi's fanfiction

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