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i-am-beckyu · 1 year ago

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In the Hands of my Tormentor

Yelloooooo! Been a lil bit since I've posted any writing! Been a bit hard getting much written with life and work at the moment but I had this random g/t thought and ran with it to get this lil fic. So enjoy another random oc created for the purpose of this fic lol.

Premise: You've been transported to another world where giants see humans as lesser and have ended up the pet of a Count.

cw: Fear, fear of death, fatal scenes mentioned, panic, mentions of being eaten alive, death mentions (no one dies tho), anxiety, torture, manipulation. Just the opposite of what I usually post lol. wc: 2318

Terror.

That’s all I could feel as I watched in horror as the giant noble scarfed down their meal. Giant fangs tearing through meat 100x my size, as if it was sliced bread. I forced myself to not react as I heard them swallow, knowing full well should they tire of me- their pet, I may very well be the next one sliding down that wretch’s throat.

In this world, Giants didn’t see anything smaller than them as intelligent. If you were found, the lucky ones either died or were crushed between teeth as big as boulders like food. And if you think ‘How’s that lucky?! That’s horrid!’ Be glad you’re not the one being digested alive.

But even that was a mercy compared to my fate.

Every day I tread the thin line of a tightrope; a timer hanging over my head. Forced to live life as a performance, every step perfect in order to please my Master.

“TWIRL!” He’d demand.

“JUMP!” He’d spit.

“SING!” He’d sneer- and I’d do it without hesitation or face death itself.

For as humiliating as it was, being ‘keep’ worthy; even for a derogatory laugh, it was better than being deemed useless and ready for brutal discarding. And with how little manic glee he’d been having with me lately, that may be sooner than not. For if I have no worth, what’s stopping them from doing away with me?

Tonight I was on display at another one of their dinner parties. Parties they threw more to show their class standing and possessions than for company. Sometimes I’d be in a cage forced to sing like a songbird, other times I’d be kept on the table with a ribbon clamped around my ankle to perform tricks or be petted by gloved fingers.

The guests would often have varying responses at my presence.

“Such a rare delicacy humans are and you're wasting it as a pet?”

“What a wretched little thing it is. Why not just eat it and be done?”

“As amusing as it is, why keep it around when it’s a better snack?”

After a while, you learn to tune out the loud voices. It’s just a reminder I’m only seen as food, insignificant, a pest. I only listen to the Master's voice. He’s the only one that matters. I sit just to his right today. The ribbon on my ankle is too tight, and I can feel the way my foot has started to go numb from the lack of blood flow. I look at it absentmindedly, the phantom pain of a blade forced against an angry scar, throbs against the ribbon. Strange I can’t feel my foot and yet still feel the pain of past escapes. I stopped trying a long time ago. Better to submit then endure his sick pleasures again.

I try not to think about the will I’ve given up; the life I’ve submitted to and try to listen to the giants conversing overhead.

Had it not been for the size difference and ignorance to the obvious, the giants were just like us. Take away all the power-hungry madness and torture of the little guy and the giants were just like humans if they were living in a medieval fantasy. Perhaps in another world, I would have been one of the guests…

“Dance, Human.” Master demands, and I stand and let my body move the way I know it pleases the giant. I don’t even think about the steps anymore, I just let myself move as if I were a robot programmed with the steps.

The giants above me laugh, clap and snicker. I know I’ve done my dance right. They’re all talking around the table, some whispering to each other with cruel gazes locked on my form. Others are spitting profanities at me and joking to my Master about making me do more tricks.

There was only one giant that didn’t seem interested in my suffering. They sat at the opposite end of the table silently, and hadn’t moved much beyond drinking from their cup. I didn’t pay them much mind. One less giant drooling over me was a blessing.

I let their voices blend together as I continued to move, the only voice I was listening for was my Masters, and I knew he was grinning ear to ear with all the attention on his greatest possession.

His rare and desirable human.

“Now sing.” He says sickeningly sweet and my mouth obeys as I sing old scales used to warm up my voice whilst I continue to dance.

He never said I could stop.

I don’t know how long this continued for, the time always blurred together with every order and step at these events. All I know is the giants are enjoying it for the time being and all hungry eyes are on me. I will do as they want till I’m so desirable, that Master snatches me away- just teasing the lessers with what they can’t have. I can see the manic glee in their eyes at being so close to myself. I know what they want, and I scold my expression to not let the fear show on my face.

My legs ached, but I pushed on; my voice wasting away from overuse. Everything was starting to burn from the effort it took to do both. I sang a long high note and began to spin, a bad combo but my brain was on autopilot. How much longer till I collapse?

“Stop.” Master demanded; my saving grace but not by much. I stopped immediately, finishing the pirouette and ceasing my song. I didn’t dare move despite my labored breathing, fully aware that the command wasn’t just for me, for in the corner of my eye I saw it.

An outstretched white, gloved hand reached for me- and it was not my Masters.

That was all that was said before the ribbon around my ankle yanked me back, sending me tumbling forward as I was reeled in. I kept my head down, biting my tongue to stop myself from screaming as I felt the glazed wooden table burn against my hands and knees as I was dragged. My performance was done. And so was the fool of a giant that had tried to take me.

Or so I thought.

Giants had tried to take me from Master before that was a given, but I was his snack (as he liked to remind me) and those that had tried to take what was his, had been dragged out shrieking. But this one had the room silent. Someone with a demanding presence other than my Master had the room freeze.

“So Ed,”

“That’s Count Edwin, to you.” Master spat at the other Giant.

“May I remind you who the Duke is here, Count Edwin.” the Duke replied nonchalantly, taking a sip of his drink. I saw the way the Master's hand tensed at the notion.

He was irritated.

Very few had the nerve to undermine him and make it out unscathed. So far nothing had happened to this Duke, which made him a threat.

“I understand you invited me here tonight to make a deal.” The Duke asked.

“Yes, that’s correct.” The grit in the Master's voice confirmed my suspicions. He’d interrupted his showing off. They were treading on thin ice.

“I wish to put a natural water irrigation system to my crops from the south river. The river in question however, borders the edge of your land and in order for me to utilize it, would require access to your land.”

“And you want me to allow your filthy hands access to my river.” The Duke remarked.

Master's hand tightened on his utensils. Whoever this man was really had the Giant getting into a tizzy, which was never good for me. For all the time that I’d been here, it was very rare that anyone dared to go up against Master, let alone insult him. I felt a slight sense of justice from the thought. Even if it would never be me to do it, at least someone would knock them off their high horse.

I couldn’t help but glance up to see what such a person looked like and was surprised by what I saw. It was the uninterested giant from before.

Just like their attitude, the Giants' features matched their blunt, cold attitude. Jet black, side swept hair and dressed in a navy blue velvet coat, adorned with gold trims and fine sapphires bigger than my head, the Duke- the most regal man I’d ever seen in all my life, was listening to my Master with an icy cold stone stare.

The man seemed bored of this tedious exchange and I could tell their patience was beginning to run thin as my Master blabbered on and on about the Giants river.

I wondered how long the fire would build behind the Duke’s eyes before their tolerance met its peak, and would put my Master in their place. For once I was glad they paid me no mind.

“I have much gold to offer in return for the river and with the greater yields we would produce, I’m happy to offer 5% of the total harvest.” Master’s smile curled into a grin as they folded their hands. They did that whenever something they wanted was about to go their way.

I averted my gaze back to my feet at this. They always got mad when they caught me staring. How sad I knew what his tells were.

“While your offer is good Edwin, as a Duke with the amount of land I have, your offer is insignificant to me. Why give you access to my river when I produce five times the amount you yield in a year?”

Master lost his composure at that, clearly not expecting such a response. Unsurprising when he acts like a toddler who has never been told no. “Well yes but-”

“If you expect me to share such a precious resource, I expect a greater sum.” The Duke cut him off. “Or an offer with something of rarity to actually compensate for the price. Something like…”

No. No, he can’t mean…

The duke took a sip from his cup as if contemplating, but only a fool didn’t know he’d already made up his mind the second he set eyes on me.

“That human.”

The Duke slammed the cup down, hitting the table with a clink as my head shot up and snapped straight to the Duke, my worst fears confirmed reality. The Duke’s ice blue eyes bore into my small figure. If I thought my grubby Master was scary then the Duke was sheer terror.

His eyes pierced my very soul pinning me in place, and I stared straight back, unable to hide the terror on my face despite the consequences. Though it could have just been adrenaline, I swear I saw their eyes soften when they noticed my expression change, though it did little to put me at ease. His presence was terrifying and it hit me then why the room was so quiet. Why Master was so mad he had no control over this Giant.

This was a man with power.

I knew if I was what it wanted, then no one would be stupid enough to say no twice. Everyone in the room knew what his eyes were locked on.

“You want me to trade my human, for access to the river?” The Count replied as he dragged me closer, pulling me away from my terror. “That hardly seems fair seeing how incredibly rare and delightful they are. It’s just about bored me enough that I'm peckish. I love to break their spirits just enough that they’re kicking and screaming to the end.”

At this, I was flung into the air with a yelp before the Count caught me in a harsh grip. I cried out in pain as he squeezed my ribs tight to the point I was sure they’d break.

“It would be a waste to let all this time go to not enjoy them myself.”

“It’s the human or nothing.” The Duke insisted. “You have nothing more that I want.”

I risked looking up at the Duke again, the fire in his eyes seemed to have tripled. “It’s as you said, humans are incredibly rare. Are they truly worth a yearly supply of better income?”

My Masters hand began to squeeze tighter around me and I’m only lucky that the air had been forced out of my lungs enough before I could scream. His anger being directed on the only thing he could control in the moment, only for the pressure to leave as quickly as it came and I found myself falling.

“Deal.”

And that was the only warning I had before everything flashed a violent white. My whole body was in complete and utter agony and yet I couldn’t even scream. I could feel silent tears dripping down my face as my vision began to dance with black blurry spots. This is where I died.

Everything felt cold, until it wasn’t.

I felt myself engulfed in pure warmth as careful hands moved and cradled my broken body. I could hear muffled voices shouting and moving before the slamming of a door ceased all else. Dark blobs broke in between the black and I knew deep down I was in the Duke’s hands, but the soft warmth they provided blurred all other judgment. I hadn’t been warm- truly warm since I’d been brought here, and yet somehow I was now at ease.

Perhaps it was just my mind twisting the truth as a last mercy to let me die peacefully.

“Rest now,” A voice whispered over head as the world faded to black. “I’ve got you now.”

Funny how my mind could create such a promise after so much pain…

✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆⋆⁺₊✧

Don't worry, the Duke's actually the good guy in this lol. I have it head cannoned that he fixes them all up and helps them get home.

I may write onto this, I might not who knows! The fact I've written in a different pov to me is wild though! Thank you to squishy, xyz and especially munchkin for beta reading this. (Seriously savior on my grammar qwp) Thank you if you read this far and I hope you enjoyed!!!!

Tag List Link here: @local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do @justarandomsloth @veryfunkycheesecake @munchkin1156 @kayla-crazy-stuffs @da3dm @eiscreme135 @orchid-harmony @the-tiny-lurker @colossal-red @nobodywritingao3 @nata2343 @bad-author777 @crazyfoxgirl10 @guppybubbles

(also side note: other wips are still being written. I am aware JORNOS has not updated in months but it's not been forgotten <3)

#beckyu writes #my writing #my ocs #gt #g/t #gt writing #g/t writing #giant tiny #giant/tiny #size difference #gt community #g/t community #read the content warnings before proceeding #it's kind of a grey area for tagging :/

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tgmsunmontue · 2 months ago

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Caring, Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide 20/?

Maverick is unknowingly surrounded by Transformers. He knows something is up though. Just not quite what it is exactly.

Bradley and Jake, having never met, are embarking on their own journeys and will have to learn to deal with the fact that they've both been adopted by Transformers.

Despite having years more experience, Maverick is no help at all.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

“Why is your arm still in this archaic casing?” Starscream asks the next morning, pinching the cast on Jake’s arm between two of his fingers, and Jake can tell he’s trying to be careful.

“I believe it is called a cast…” Jetfire offers.

“The name does not matter. Why are you still wearing it today?” Starscream demands and Jake frowns, shrugs.

“Uh, because I need to wear it for six weeks?”

“What! You said he would be whole after he recharged!” Starscream says to Maverick accusingly, who holds his hands up in supplication, shaking his head.

“Um… oh shit. No. Well. Broken bones take like… weeks to heal.”

“Weeks! Weeks! That is… not acceptable!”

“Not like I have any choice in the matter…” Jake grumbles.

“I do not understand!” Starscream sounds bewildered and worried.

“Humans are complex creatures. Jake is a young man and his body will heal. However there are options if his body would not heal. However they are… invasive and not without their own risks. So. They allow the body to regenerate on its own.”

“Still sounds very inefficient…” Starscream mutters and Jetfire looks like he’s hiding a smile.

“Go and fly around for a bit. It will make you feel better…”

No one stops Starscream anymore, doesn’t bother considering the stealth technology and his ability to simply avoid other aircraft making any previous concerns moot.

“I will join you shortly. I just wish to have a word with Jake.”

“Fine,” Starscream huffs. He slinks away, as much as a large robot can slink, eyes darting to Jetfire who just shakes his head.

“It is funny to see him so worried about you. A human. I like that he has another friend.”

“He’s easy to like.”

“I do not believe that for a second. He is not likeable at all, however once you get past the rough exterior he is… how do humans say it?”

“Heart of gold?” jake suggests. Jetfire frowns.

“What use is gold? Why would you want a heart made of gold?”

“Uh. A rough diamond?” Bradley offers.

Jetfire blinks at them both.

“What have gold and diamond got to do with Starscream?”

“They’re just… human sayings I guess?”

“English human sayings,” Jake offers.

“But what do they mean?”

Bradley exchanges a look with Jake.

“Uh… we’re probably going to have to look it up.”

“Humans are odd.”

“Buddy, you have no idea.”

… … …

“Bradley… why did the chicken go to the gym?”

Bradley groans, knows he doesn’t even need to answer. Jake’s developing obsession with chicken and rooster jokes has become unending since he broke his arm, and he’s got too much spare time to look them up or think of them. Either way he’s getting the brunt of Jake’s newfound love of puns and farmyard-related jokes since their ill-fated trip to the ice skating rink.

“To work on his pecks!”

Bradley sighs, he cannot wait for Jake to be back to normal, or forget all about calling Bradley a chicken.

… … …

“You don’t have to stay and keep me company. If you want to go out you can.”

“Nah. One thing to leave you when you could also go out, another to leave you to marinate in your own self-pity.”

Jake doesn’t bother to correct him and tell him that he’s never gone out and picked up when Bradley has. Hadn’t really thought about it as being a priority, plus he doesn’t have a car or someone to drive him. Bradley hasn’t gone out since the first time though. At least, he hasn’t declared as much and Jake’s not sure if he appreciates it, or whether Bradley maybe didn’t enjoy it last time or something. He feels a little mean, hoping that Bradley didn’t have a good time, and then spends too much time mulling over the fact he’s being irrationally jealous, because he should want Bradley to be happy.

… … …

They have another movie night, and he slumps beside Bradley, grumbles about making himself comfortable with the weight of the cast resting on his stomach. They’re watching The Sound of Music, part of a well-rounded movie and cultural education according to Bradley. Jake keeps it to himself he watched it a lot growing up, can probably sing all the songs from memory; it’s a comfort watch. He wakes up to the feeling of fingers running through his hair, realizes he’s shifted, spread out, got his head resting on Bradley’s thigh and he goes to sit up, apology already forming on his lips.

“Shh… just go back to sleep Jake. You’re good…” Bradley says, voice quiet, his hand pressing on his shoulder to still his movements.

“Mmm… am good…” Jake agrees sleepily, because Bradley’s fingers have gone back to his hair and it’s nice. Relaxing. He drifts off back to sleep.

… … …

“Why does Jake call you chicken? Do… do some humans change shape?”

Bradley chokes on his coffee, already shaking his head, Maverick is snickering, fucking traitor, and Jake is outright laughing.

“No… humans are generally all human shaped. No shifting into other species or shapes.”

“Oh… then Jake is not making fun of your second form?”

“I don’t have a second form. I… mean, humans grow from children into adults, but –”

“We are aware of the human life-cycle,” Jetfire says, clearly amused at Bradley’s floundering, Jake and Maverick are both laughing even louder, and Bradley gives them both the finger; it’s not that funny.

“Well, I didn’t want to assume…” Bradley starts, but he sees Jetfire and Starscream looking at his hand, the one with the single finger still aimed toward Mav and Jake.

“What does that sign mean?”

“Uh…”

“It means he is unimpressed with us. Sometimes people might be angry when they use it. Or want to show they are being disrespectful.”

“So I could use it the next time I see Orion Pax?” Starscream asks, and Bradley doesn’t think he has ever heard or seen Bronco transform as fast as he does.

“Yes. Please… yes.”

“You can give to any of the Admirals you don’t like as well, while you’re at it,” Maverick says with a laugh and Bradley rubs at his face in despair, although if any of the Transformers do that he’s totally throwing Mav under the bus and letting Ice know that Mav is the one that told them they should.

… … …

“Bradley, what’s a chicken’s favorite movie?” Jake whispers, and Bradley wonders is smothering him would work. “Lord of the Wings!”

“Shut up and watch the damned movie…” Bradley hisses back, punching him in his leg.

… … …

“Ow!”

“Shit. Sorry…”

“That fucking cast. People are going to wonder where all my bruises come from.”

“Not my fault I move so much when I sleep…”

“Jake. It’s literally your fault you move so much. Just…”

“You’re hogging all the blankets, I just want to get warm…”

“Oh for fucks sake, come here… at least this way I’ve got a better chance of getting out of your way before you brain me with your cast.”

He doesn’t offer to go and sleep in his room, and Bradley doesn’t ask him to, so he lets himself relax, the weight of Bradley’s arm over him, pinning him and holding him close, his body radiating heat, has him drifting back to sleep.

… … …

“Bradley. Bradley. Hey Bradley…”

“What?”

“What do you call a hen who haunts a chicken farm?”

Bradley groans, knows he doesn’t even need to answer, because Jake is already snickering. Will deliver the awful punchline regardless of what he tries.

“A poultry-geist!”

“Go to sleep Jake…”

TWENTYONE

#Caring Keeping and Collecting Transformers - A Guide #hangster #Top Gun Maverick AU #TF and TGM crossover

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screams-in-writing · 3 days ago

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Re-reading your previous snippets I was left on thinking on how exactly does Mr Puzzles do his 'internal inspections'? Like, is there a lot of blood? Does it hurt him? How long does it take for the cuts to heal? Does he have to do this often?

Oooo yes more lore for the fic.

Not me taking longer to answer as I ponder this for months and months.

There will be a few scenes that go into more detail but there is a difference on his exactly things work for Mr. Puzzles body, depending on if he’s in the MC’s world or his own.

Mr. Puzzles home world:

Basically there aren’t any negatives to his body, since everything in that place can take on a lot of damage and walk away without permanent damage.

The exceptions are:

Mr. Puzzles’ screen when it is broken; annoying but easy enough for him to fix given time to replace it or just miraculously have it repair itself.

Mr puzzles limbs, as he needs to maintain them to make sure they’re functioning properly. This also goes for if the limbs take too much damage repeatedly and something requires replacing within the limbs.

But when you put Mr. Puzzles into the MC’s world, it’s a lot different:

He’s basically experiencing chronic pain the whole entire time he’s there. But there are some medicines/etc that actually do work for him when he figures that out (mainly like pain patches you stick onto skin, I think there’s injectable pain medication, but I’m sure he could figure a way to hook up an in though that’d likely be theft-think of loopy/high Mr. Puzzles doing the thing where he’d be sappy and somehow not recognizing MC but flirting when he sees them) and other things like heating pads/ice packs. But also taking it easy when he needs to, whether or not he wants to, as between that and a sententious unable to have his pain level manageable enough for him to function most of the time, even if there are good and bad days no matter what (not me typing this while inwardly going ‘urgh’ over my sore neck and shoulder lol-gonna need a heating pad and pain killer myself later lol)

As for the appearance of blood, Mr Puzzles does bleed but he doesn’t have as much as a human would normally have. But seeing as his neck is the area where the tv connects to his body, there’s greater reaction, since Puzzles’ body shouldn’t actually be alive in this instance (and especially in MC’s world). No one else os an object head in this world, so Puzzles’ body is an anomoly. He can readjust how his head is attached to what’s left of his neck, but it’s much more tender and aching and painful. This makes it difficult to preform maintenance as the agony being caused is more potent and distracting. But he doesn’t make that his first priority no matter just how badly that hurt him to make it stop bleeding.

The process of maintenance sin general tends to involve Mr. Puzzles removing his head and setting it down on a desk or flat surface facing his body so that he can see what he is doing (unless he has to detach a limb, which he can leave his tv head in place).

Maining his arms and legs and even his spine take a lot more careful planning as well. He has to go limb by limb and make certain that everything looks well to the robotic attachments. Puzzles has to be much more cautious as well, as any sudden move makes his limbs have huge swathes of flaring aching pain. But since this was done after he’d replaced his head, and actually had his limbs done in a more surgical aka not sawing off the head there is no blood but the stumps at his thighs and a partway down the shoulder (stopping halfway to the elbows and forearm no longer there).

But there is a lot of unexpected weight put on those stumps by the prosthetics, especially his arms, and while he can move about just fine and act his theatrical fruity dramatic self, the tradeoff is that he needs to rest himself later on, either with or without some of the prosthetics, depending on the level of aches and pain.

For his spine, the only way to check on it is to take his tv head off, place it at an angle to see off a mirror, and do very delicate testing of how everything is holding up. If he does make any cuts (if he’s seeing something that needs to be reinforced), then he will face a small amount of healing time, and minimal blood, since there’s not that much of anything in the way of skin and tissue unless he goes deeper; which Mr. Puzzles definitely does not do, based off initial testing to see how his body reacted.

Internally he doesn’t have to do much of anything, so long as he doesn’t take any blunt force damage to his torso, where I’ve decided he does have organs even if most of them aren’t really necessary to him living ( like lungs that as repurposed to work with his vents to give the appearance of breathing)

Thankfully, Mr Puzzles does not have to do full body main tended often, and for the most part, when in MC’s world, is just keeping an eye on things, but does do at least two or three more ‘major’ inspections and repairs between arriving and Puzzles being able to convince Smg4 & 3 through dimensional communication bs to send over a box or crate of supplies for him to at least tide him over (don’t know if I did a snippet of that or not but basically, to no one’s surprise, Smg4 is not pleased to be speaking to Puzzles and doesn’t really have a reason to help but I feel like there’s a part of 4 that would be empathetic (but not forgiving or sympathetic) to the sudden ‘ive not bleed since I’ve made this change and there’s currently a leak at my neck pls if I can’t come back can I at least get tools to not die a slow and painful death here’ Mr Puzzles is experiencing. But that’s a whole ‘nother thing I’ll explore when it happens *squints at outline* during ch 15, I’m hoping.

I think that’s everything? If not feel free to hmu if I should go into more detail. There will be some of that in the fic, but either way it’s fun to talk about the headcanons I have for Mr Puzzles in this fic!

#screams in writing answers #ask answered #smg4 mr puzzles #love me some hc’s #*spinning mr puzzles around in my mind

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topioswords · 7 months ago

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Consultation

He’s been sitting against the graffiti-spattered wall, idly scanning the lazy movement of the river, for 22 minutes and 47 seconds when somebody pings him. Noir doesn’t look up. “About time,” he grumbles and moves a foot, testing the connection. It isn’t bad today, not really, the patchjob is holding up pretty well all things considered.

The small rat robot flickers its whiskers and he shrugs. “It’s just the kind of place you’d show up, isn’t it, and will you look at that. I was right.” Noir turns his head, tugging at the ratty scarf so it isn’t trapped under the mask, his movement is limited enough under the three layers of threadbare clothes without adding that nuisance.

It’s a little dinged, the rat, the whisker wires scuffed and bent, and a toe is missing, but it’s not like he can really make any judgments there. “Will you take me to your nest,” he asks, and the rat pings him back asking him to use proper channels.

It’s not that he forgot, he tells himself, it’s just that he doesn’t like there being records. Noir sends the message, short and simple, and he’s rewarded with a map.

So much for getting a guided tour. He pushes himself up, taking a moment to run a quick surface system check, and adjust his balance, hoping feebly that it won’t reset at an awkward moment again. Well. Not like he has anything better to do.

The place is not exactly like Noir had expected. But it’s not like he’s really been able to dig out more than hearsay and speculation, you’d think with the vast majority of their clientele being robots there’d be ample documentation of the quote-unquote Rat King but either his skill in data gathering has taken a nosedive or there just. Isn’t any available. Which is both good and kinda worrisome. Noir isn’t sure he likes the implications, but if they can keep up that kind of anonymity then it’s probably as close to safe as he’s gonna get.

Still though. The office building nestled in between busy streets. That was a surprise.

Slipping in is easy, you just have to look like you belong, and a badly hidden half empty pack of cigarettes makes people assume a lot of things. It isn’t technically lying, and they make for good distractions. Smokers are chatty people and all. The eternal irony of people wearing masks to keep their lungs safe from the bad air, then spending five minutes inhaling a known poison. There’s some things Noir isn’t sure he’ll ever figure out.

The building is cold, too cold for humans to be comfortable for long. It’s kept in good shape though, and Noir isn’t surprised at the increasingly frequent surface pings. ‘We’re here’ they’re telling him. ‘We see you, and we’re letting you know’.

There is, he determines without ever seeing one even when he strains his optics, a lot of rats here.

Something feels off about an almost entirely quiet basement room that’s about 37.8% rat robot by volume (or thereabout, Noir could do a proper calculation sure, but his desire is in the vicinity of no thanks and he has much better uses for that processing power). It’s eerie. He can see the little delicate eyes and the way the tangle of cords shift and he’s pretty sure that ought to make more sound than it does, but all his audio receptors pick up is the usual background noise and that insistent rattling fan he’s been filtering out for a bit longer than he cares to think about.

That many bots really should make more noise.

>>WHAT DO YOU SEEK OUR PRESENCE FOR?

Half a dozen tiny unblinking cameras follow him as he sways, catching the glitching balance in time. “You know,” he answers, refusing to face all those pointy little faces peering from the tangles. He knows they’ve been scanning him, not like they’ve been subtle about it, and he didn’t even fight it.

>>STATE YOUR REQUEST.

They’re actually writing full sentences, with actual punctuation. Noir rubs the edge of his mask, and he knows how human that kind of pointless fidgeting is thank-you-very-much he worked hard on incorporating a mix of it to blend in, only now he can’t seem to stop.

“Repair,” he grudgingly offers, not willing to message them back no matter how much faster it might be. They have ears too, not like it’s his problem if they don’t wanna use them.

>>SHOW US

This time he doesn’t quite catch his own glitching, his hands jerking open and it takes him a bad couple of seconds before he can get them back to doing what he wants. “What,” he says, shifting to face the biggest concentration of lights. “No. You don’t need that. You can have a copy of my damage reports.”

>>SHOW US

The message repeats, and more small heads pop up, turning to watch him. Noir clenches his hands, the worn leather moving smoothly, the bit where his missing finger should be dragging behind. He knows what they mean. They know, he knows they know. It isn’t fair.

“I hate this,” he tells them sourly as he shifts, finding the hidden clasps with the kind of dexterity he probably shouldn’t have between the gloves and everything else in the way. It’s been a long set of years though. Noir has had practice. A lot of practice.

The beady little eyes follow his movement and without the yellow glass his eye can pick out more details, not that that makes the situation much better. “This isn’t my face anymore,” he tells them angrily but they don’t react to that. He cradles the mask to his chest and waits. It’s the longest 9 seconds he’s ever experienced.

>>WE CAN DO THIS. YOU CAN TRADE.

“Right,” Noir says, more relieved than he thought he’d be. “What’s your price?”

>>THE EYE

He could feign ignorance. He could pretend he doesn’t know what eye they mean and sure it’d be unpleasant to be stuck with just her but… “No,” he says. “That’s too high, ask for something else.”

>>YOU ARE NOT IN A POSITION TO BARGAIN.

“Then I’ll manage,” Noir answers coldly. He turns, tugs his face back on and starts walking out, praying to whatever scrap god will listen that he won’t end up face first on the floor. That’d be too humiliating and he’d have to cry then, which isn’t exactly easy when nobody thought to give you more than a rudimentary approximation of a (broken) face.

>>WE WILL WELCOME YOU BACK. they write as he turns his back to them.

>>THE OFFER STANDS.

It’s only after he leaves a quick check confirms his suspicions. All files he tried making in there are corrupted or simply blank. It doesn’t really matter. For a semi-mythological entity the Rat King is aptly named. Either way, Noir is sure they’re telling the truth about keeping that deal, but he isn’t gonna take it. Not at that cost.

#scifi #science fiction #robots #robot oc #rat king #robot rat king #very first writing with robot Noir #robot rat king is a cluster of abandoned service and maintenance robots that's grown over many years #each individual rat robot can detach and do their own thing #but when combining their processing they can handle much bigger tasks #Noir Needs Friends #Made Machine AU

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spectralquartzafterdark · 1 year ago

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Three way between Rosie , Bee and Jules?? Maybe human or bot Jules 👀👀👀 or even better Starscream getting his three way 🥹

I can do some Jeweltone and Rosie Content! Have Fun. TW: Light Bondage, Knotting, Breeding Kink, Petplay, Over Stimulation. and there's a mirror involved.

“Man, frag your parents. I don’t know why they give you such a hard time.” Jeweltone spoke through the radio as they pulled into the garage.

“Because, I’m not falling for their manipulation. That’s why. I should be able to say I’m taken without question.” Rosie groaned as she rested her head on the steering wheel, “Fuck the holidays.”

Rosie looked at the time and sighed as she stepped out of the purple ‘69 mustang. She adjusted her dress and sighed as her mech companion transformed. She heard Jeweltone get situated on the garage floor and turned to them. It was clear the visit to her parents caused her more distress than she let on.

“Come here. I don’t think they’re worth the Energon anymore. We don’t have to visit unless it’s life or death okay?” They said as their optics looked at their human companion, “And I encourage you to say no from here on out.”

“Yea…” she said as she walked over to Jeweltone who scooped her up into their servos, “Just it’s hard. Living out here family is all you have. Blood or chosen and I don’t have much of either…”

“Trust me, I know all about that. Giant Robot.” they chuckled as they pulled her against their chassis, “But, your boundaries and mental health mean more than anything okay?”

Rosie nodded in defeat and just sighed as she let Jeweltone keep her close for the moment. She could feel her phone buzz in the pocket of her dress, but she didn’t care. She was done with today, in fact she quit. Whatever happened would happen and she wasn’t emotionally attached to the outcome.

Jeweltone’s fuel pump was pounding, they knew what they wanted to ask… but knew that this moment might not be the right time. All they wanted to do was spoil her. They reminisced about what their plans were going to be when they had returned home. A buzz vibrated in their circuits for a moment. That wasn’t important, right now just being here was. That didn’t stop the inevitable loop their circuits was trying to throw them into. Rosie’s body being so close, so warm, so soft had only made matters worse. When she pressed back into them their engine revved.

“Oh, my Primus I’m so sorry.” they exclaimed, “I didn’t scare you did I?”

Rosie just stared at them for a moment before she laughed, “No, I’m fine. But, what has you so worked up?”

“I was… uh…” Their optics looked to the side in embarrassment as they clenched their dentae, “Thinking about what our plans had been if things went well.”

“What made you think those were canceled?” She quirked a brow shifting to face them, “Hm?”

“Ah… well…” She was so close, and their bipedal cord felt hot, “The stress of that interaction would’ve turned me off from any premade plans.”

Jeweltone watched as Rosie rubbed her head for a moment. Had they said something wrong? They felt her shift out of their grasp and watched intently. She made sure the garage doors were locked. Windows closed and blocked out. Her steps were quick – what on earth was she planning to do? Then they watched as she pulled out a small tool kit. It seemed run down and had some stickers on it. Their optics scanned it and it was then everything clicked into place.

“Unless I directly say it’s off the table… assume the plans are still valid Jeweltone.” she smiled, “And after that fiasco. Honestly, I think I want the attention. We could go as far as you’d like tonight too. With your real body, not that Holoform. It’s not as… mmm.”

“Satisfying, heh. I agree. But, are you sure?” They asked.

“Yes, just I think I need the mental reset. I’m not feeling great about myself right now.” she admitted.

“I can fix that.” they scooped her up again and kissed her gently, “And I may not need to mass shift my entire body~” they felt her body shudder, of course she’d have a size kink.

Jeweltone shifted in the berth if one could call it that. Both parties had fooled around before, but it hadn’t quite gotten past digit and glossa play. Jeweltone had been too worried about hurting their partner. And the holoform was a mess. They couldn’t hold concentration during interfacing. This would be their first time beyond foreplay. But, they had something special in mind. If her self esteem was that low they knew a way to break it and fast. Just thinking about it made their spike strain against their panels.

Jeweltone was slow to work her up. Idly kissing her and letting their large servos roam that soft body of hers. Their favorite part had to be those ungodly soft inner thighs. One day they’d ask to just use them, but, for now they had other plans. They could hear her soft moans. They ran two of their digits between her legs and felt how soaked her panties already were. When she said she wanted attention she wasn’t joking clearly.

“How much do you want this?” they asked.

“You have no idea. Thinking about this is probably why I stayed sane.” she moaned softly as she rutted against their digits.

“Good, just… let me take care of you okay? You do enough for me. And I’m not having another incident.” Jeweltone purred, “Now, go ahead and take off your clothes.”

They set her down and went to the wall across from them and pulled out a mirror that Rosie hadn’t quite yet put up. They were going to make her see how beautiful she was. They grabbed the small tool box and went back to the berth. The garage was small, but thankfully it was going to work in their favor.

“Jeweltone, what’s the mirror for?” Rosie asked cautiously.

“You’ll see.” They said carefully holding her hands and doing a small twirl, had she really been wearing that lingerie set all day? “So, that’s why your routine took 3 hours today.”

“Mmmm not like you complain.” she teased.

“Never. Pull out what you need from the kit. We’ll set it on the shelf. It’ll be easier to grab.” They said.

Rosie nodded knowing that meant Jeweltone was serious about this particular session. Jeweltone watched her trying to have the courage to let their spike out from behind their panels. When they noticed her fiddling with something any bashfulness went away. Their panel retracted in full, they knew what she was up to. They admired all her soft curves and how the lace and bands moved across her frame. It was unfair really, how they couldn’t just bury themself in between all of those soft crevices. Though they were broken out of their thoughts as their eyes wandered up and noted that she had gone a little above and beyond of what they expected. Nipple chain perfect for tugging and a little collar? That was cute.

“Perfect.” was all they said before they scooped her up into their servos again.

Positioning was the issue now. Figuring out how to hold her in such a way that her body was completely visible in the mirror. Eventually they found the perfect spot. Immediately, they felt her fuel pump start pounding. They chuckled and pressed a kiss to her face panel.

“You’ve bamboozled yourself going beyond what I expect.” they tease, “Look at you~”

“L-listen I…” she yelped as they were shifted once more.

“Oh, this is going to be fun sweetspark. And now I don’t have to be human sized to play with these.” they tugged at the chain, “Frag, imagine is one was hooked to your Spike Node.”

“F-frag.” she moaned, “D-don’t tease too much.”

“I won’t.” they tugged again and groaned at the sight, “Now, I want you to watch yourself. Understood?”

“Yes.” she said, she knew what they were up to, but knew arguing wouldn’t do a bit of good in this situation.

“Good, I will make sure you physically see how beautiful you are and how you make me feel.” they managed to win the fight against a tiny tube and applied some sensitizer to her node.

It was perhaps a bit too much, but they would use it to their advantaged as they slowly rubbed it in and around her valve. They watched in the mirror as her node finally came to attention, she really was shy tonight. Usually, it didn’t take this long.

“Look at that. Your valve’s already dripping for me and your spike node is at full attention just from applying that sensitizer.” they boasted as their servos spread her just slightly to show off the lubricant, “Mmm, but truthfully I was straining against my panel for you a few hours ago. Watching you set a boundary and protect it mmm… this? Is only a bonus~”

They took her node between their fingers and squeezed. A small yelp of pleasure escaped her chest as Jeweltone began to stroke it up and down. At one point she tried to look away, but they were able to keep her focus on the mirror. They moved their digits over her frame complimenting each soft part of her. Each scar. Each section of stretch marks. All while playing with her node. They could feel it twitching between their fingers and quickly pulled away.

They couldn’t let her overload just yet. They turned her head and kissed her for a moment of reprieve. Only to move to tug on that chain again with their free servo. They nipped at her and she did the same in turn. It was clumsy and sweet, but they could feel her body melting into their touch. Jeweltone pulled away and moved her face to look at the mirror again.

“Now, whose the most beautiful human I know?” they asked.

“Me.” she managed to breath.

“Good, and who do I love?” They asked again.

“Me.” she chuckled and smiled.

“Good, don’t forget that ever. My conjunx. Mine.” they kissed her face again digits looming over her dripping valve before one dipped into her.

It was a tight fit at first. It seemed she had tensed up, but Jeweltone took that as a hint they should have warned her. As their digit moved in and out of her it didn’t take long for the other to slip in naturally. They smirked at their work admiring the scene in-front of them. The mirror was a good idea. They’d have to do this more often. Though admittedly their Spike was starting to ache and getting harder to ignore.

“Frag, please… I need your Spike.” she whined.

“Just a little more. I want to make sure you can take it without a problem.” they assured her.

“A-alright. Just, fuck I want to be full of you already.” she sighed softly another moan escaped her as Jeweltone played with the chain.

“I know. And I’m going to make sure you’re so stuffed that you’ll be worried about being pregnant.” they teased.

“Mmm sure about that? That’s an awfully big promise.” she cooed.

“I’m sure.” Their fingers dug further into her and caused her back to arch and hips pressed onto their fingers more.

Jeweltone kept their digits burried in her fragging her until she came close to another overload and quickly pulled away. They shifted their position and rubbed their spike against her valve and node. They made sure to cause as much friction as possible wanting to see her face in the mirror. Their spike luminated as they slowly slipped inside. They moaned as they felt how soft she was. No wonder Mirage liked humans so much. They were so soft and warm. They took a moment to pulled out and used the fluid from their poor ignored valve to lubricate themself. They once again thrusted into her with far more ease.

“Primus, look at you. I bottomed out without an issue. Frag.” they said as they placed a servo around her waist and watched their light ever so slightly come through her flesh.

“I-i told you I could take it ages ago.” her voice was cracking and breaking. It was almost song like as her hips moved and tried to take more of their partner.

“Mmm, no.” the held her still, “I’m taking care of you remember. Let me do the work.”

“F-frag okay.” she whined. She wanted to move so badly, “Please, move? It feels so good already.”

“As you wish.” they smirked.

Jeweltone wasn’t inexperienced. With humans maybe, but other bots. Not so much. And humans weren’t that different so they knew how to angle themself. Once they found that perfect spot they went to work. Struts thrusted into their partner like their life depended on it. They watched as her body rippled and moved, fuel pump almost vibrating at the sight. Their servos moved to keep her steady as the other pulled on that delicious chain. Though at this position it wasn’t the most practical and they had to chose where to put their energy. They let go of it and opted for something a little closer. Her node that had been twitching for some time. They took it between their digits and let their rhythm take care of any motion that was needed.

Their systems were starting to over heat. The room was starting to get hotter and they could see the sweat that beaded up on Rosie. It made her glisten like a jewel. It made them want to see her overload even more.

“Come on, cum for me.” they moaned into her ear, “Show much how much you want this.”

“Mmm… trying please a little rougher.” she asked softly clearly struggling with her body.

Jeweltone knew what had to be done. They bent them both over ever so slightly their body almost overshadowing theirs, but still visible in the mirror. If they had been any bigger she’d be their personal cocksleeve. With this position brought a new development. A slight bulge could be seen in Rosie. Jeweltone almost rolled their optics at that delicious sight. They took a moment to regain themselves before they picked up pace again. Her body felt so good against theirs it was driving them wild. Their engine revved louder and louder and caused their vibration mod to kick in. And that was all it took for her to break.

“F-frag I’m gonna!!” her last soft squeak before her body gave into Jeweltones demand.

She overloaded. Hard. She could barely think straight from how strong it was. Her body was squeezing Jeweltone’s spike so tightly that they felt their other mod kick in. After two more thrusts they could no longer pull from her valve as they overloaded. Their voice box distorting as they cried out her name. They could only manage soft I love yous as both parties came down from their high. Jeweltone had to carefully sit both of them back up. They both looked in the mirror and they smirked. There was definitely a noticeable bump. They hadn’t lost their touch after all.

They kissed her gently and smiled as their systems began to cool off.

“Are you okay?” They asked.

“Mmhmm… y-you’re stuck.” she pointed out.

“Y-yea… sorry about that. Usually I can control that mod… but -”

“Don’t worry about it. It feels really good.” she admitted, node still twitching.

“Mmm greedy little thing I don’t think your body is done.” They smirked.

They couldn’t do much else until their knot mod reconfigured itself. So, they decided to see if they could coax out one more overload from Rosie. They rubbed her node in circles, pinching and working it much like before. Hearing her whines. She was oversensitive right now. But, her poor node was so swollen they couldn’t jut ignore it. So, they kept it up idly. Carefully playing with it until finally they felt her fall back into their chassis crying out literal tears of pleasure as she overloaded again. Squeezing their spike much harder and longer. Over and over. Almost like a chain.

“F-frag, Jeweltone!” She pushed against their hand, “T-too much gonna FRAG.” she sobbed as she overloaded again enough to push Jeweltone’s spike from her body with a pop.

“Primus, I didn’t know you could do that. Frag… I want to set aside a full day now. Just to tease you.” They admitted as their spike finally depressurized and they retracted it back into their panel.

“Mmm… later…” she sobbed softly taking off the nipple clamps and chain and throwing them to the side. She clearly wasn’t going to risk another round.

Jeweltone smirked seeing their transfluid dripping from her valve. They took a few digits and shoved as much as they could back into her. Rosie giggled and looked to them via the mirror.

“What was I upset about earlier?” She asked.

“Absolutely nothing.” Jeweltone laughed and held her closer, “But now… I think we both need baths.”

#valveplug #original characters #rosie writes #bumblebee x jeweltone #bumblebee x rosie #bumblebee x rosie x jeweltone #robot x human

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ticklishtimothee · 4 years ago

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our final night alive (simon kalivoda x reader)

summary: the reader and simon are in the bathroom together before it all goes down. and hey, since all their friends are going to “pound-town” as simon would call it, why shouldn’t they?

a/n: i just watched fear street 1994 on netflix and totally fell in love with simon, so i wrote this. i promise i’m working on the requests in my inbox as well, i just had to get this idea out while it was fresh.

words: 1,740

While Kate and Josh go into the girl’s bathroom, you and Simon figure it’s best to leave them alone. So, you follow Simon into the boy’s room, the clothes you’d snatched from the lost and found clutched tightly in your hands.

“Hey, I’ll trade you this Iron Maiden t-shirt for the cardigan,” Simon grins.

“You want to wear this thing?” you ask, raising a brow and holding up the blue knitted nightmare in your hands. You can already tell how itchy the fabric would be against your skin.

Simon nods. “I think it would really accentuate my shoulders. I’ve been told they’re my best feature,” he says, winking.

“Whoever told you that was a liar,” you reply, but toss him the cardigan anyway.

He catches it easily, then tosses you the t-shirt in return.

He wastes no time in pulling the white t-shirt over his head, and you’re thankful to see it gone. It was bad enough that he’d been wearing it for all that time, regardless of the blood stains. You avert your eyes as he strips off his jeans as well.

“Nice tighty-whities,” you mutter.

Simon snorts. “Sorry for putting practicality over fashion.”

“Says the guy putting on a girl’s cardigan to fight monsters.”

“Touché.”

You turn to face the wall, pulling your own shirt over your head, checking your torso quickly for any traces of blood. Finding none, you pull the new t-shirt on.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realize Simon still isn’t making an effort to get dressed. Instead, he’s checking himself out in the mirror, and you can’t tell if he’s goofing off or actually looking for any stains to wash off of his skin.

“You have some blood on your back,” you tell him. “Can’t tell if it’s Sam’s or yours, but better safe than sorry.”

Simon looks in the mirror, tilting his head to catch a glimpse, and furrows his brows. “I don’t see it. Help me out?”

You grab a handful of paper towels from the dispenser and wet them under the sink. “Turn around.”

He does so, and you find the blood in question and wipe it off.

He jumps under the touch. “You couldn’t have used warm water?” he asks, difficult as always.

“I could let this sink run for five minutes and it’d be warm at best,” you reply. “You think this place has the budget for hot water?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, I guess so.”

There’s a pause, and you’re still standing behind him, your eyes scanning over the pale expanse of his back, taking in each freckle. His shoulders were pretty nice, actually.

“You know you’ve gotta change your pants, too,” he says.

“Oh, right,” you say, cheeks burning. You go back to the pile of your things. When you look up, he’s watching you. “Am I allowed a little privacy?” you ask.

He smiles. “You could go into the stall.”

You roll your eyes. “Or you could turn around and not be a pervert.”

“Hey, you already saw me in my underwear,” he points out.

You scowl at him, then hook your thumbs into the waist of your pants and pull them down in a quick, fluid motion. You toe off your shoes to take them off entirely, leaving them on the tiled floor. “Happy?” you ask.

His smile fades. “What happened to your thigh?”

You look down and see the injury he’s referring to. Honestly, you’d been so caught up in everything going on, you’d barely noticed the shallow gash in your skin, but now that it was brought to the forefront of your mind, the dull ache began to settle.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I guess one of those psychos grazed me.”

Simon takes another wad of paper towels. “May I?” he asks.

You nod, and he dampens them under the faucet. “Come put your leg up to the sink.”

You do as he says, wincing at the first contact he makes with it.

“Sorry,” he practically whispers. “I don’t have anything to bandage it up with, but the least we can do is get it clean, okay?”

“Okay.”

His face is close to your bare leg, making goosebumps rise where his nose and lips brush the skin. He’s gentle with you, one hand holding your leg steady while the other dabs at the wound tenderly, and you watch as the red mess slowly begins to clear up, leaving the wound still open but no longer bleeding.

“There, that should be better,” he says. “When we find the others, maybe they’ll have something to patch you up with.”

“Thanks.”

You place both feet back on the ground, standing before Simon, both partially undressed (him more than you) and trying to hide the feelings of terror in both of your chests.

“Do you think Deena and Sam are gonna make up?” you ask. “Oh, I think they’re probably fucking as we speak,” he replies.

You give him a light smack to the back of his head. “You’ve got such a dirty mind.”

“I’m serious! Kate and Josh are probably doing it, too. The whole last-night-on-earth thing gets people horny, don’t you know?”

“Oh, so we’re all gonna be killed by some freaks, so we should be banging?” you ask.

“Are you asking in general, or about us?”

You pause. “Both.”

His cheeks flush pink, and you swear it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him embarrassed. “In general, yeah, I think it’s human instinct to seek out some pleasure before the end. As for us, well...If you’re down, I’m down.”

You stare at him for a second. “Really?”

“Only if you want to, I mean—”

You grab him by the shoulders and kiss him, effectively cutting off his rambling.

In no time, he’s pushed your back against the cool, tiled wall of the bathroom, kissing you back fevertently. You thread your fingers through his blond curls, and he sighs against your lips.

“Can I touch you?” he asks, breathless.

You nod, and he brings a hand between your legs, fingers running over your underwear teasing, making you shiver.

“Can I be honest with you?”

“Yes,” you reply.

“I’ve never done this before,” he says, unable to meet your eye. “But I have a pretty good idea of what to do.”

“Me either,” you tell him. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

He nods and pulls you in for another kiss, this time rubbing you through your panties. You whine softly into his mouth.

“Does that feel good?”

“Try doing it a little gentler—oh, yes, like that…”

You can feel his hard cock against your belly as he reaches his hand down the front of your underwear. “Is this okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s fine.”

Carefully, he finds your hole and presses one finger inside, making you clench nervously at first.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Try to relax for me,” he all but coos in your ear, and you do so.

He lets his finger slowly curl and uncurl inside you, stretching you out.

“Do you want to…?” you ask.

“I don’t have a condom,” he says, knowing exactly what you were going to ask.

“Well, if you get me pregnant, we’ll probably be dead before it’s even got arms and legs.”

He chuckles, and you appreciate that he’s able to find humor in the fucked up things, just like you.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

He yanks down his underwear, and while you’d teased him about it before, the tight, white fabric didn’t leave much to the imagination. Simon wraps his arms around your waist and hoists you up, bringing you over to the sink and sitting you down on the brim of it.

“There’s no way this thing is gonna hold us,” you say.

“If we break it, we’ll be dead before they make us pay for the damages,” he replies, and you laugh.

He makes quick work of pulling your panties down, and they fall to the floor as he parts your knees. “Please tell me if I hurt you,” he says. “I want it to feel good.”

You nod. “I promise.”

He lines himself up with your entrance, pushing his hips forward. He misses the first time, sort of poking the head of his cock into the crease of your thigh, and you both chuckle awkwardly at the mishap. The second time, he gets closer, but his cock slides upward and between your folds, making your legs jerk in surprise.

“Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

The third time, he succeeds, and the initial stretch of his head entering you makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Should I stay still for a sec? Let you adjust?”

You nod, and so he does.

“You can move now.”

Slowly, he rocks his hips forward, and you manage to take more of him. Without you asking, he waits again, letting you get used to the feeling.

Your nails dig into his back. “You can go, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, Simon, I’m sure,” you reply.

“Alright, I’m just double-checking!”

He fucks you carefully, his own movements a bit robotic at first, but when you pull him close to lock your lips together once again, he falls into a rhythm, and your ass hurts from sitting on the stupid sink, but he feels so good, his hot breath tickling your neck as he fucks you.

“Oh, fuck,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I’m already—”

“It’s fine, don’t apologize. You can come, just try to pull out,” you say.

He nods, and you can see him scrunching up his face, trying to gain some control and keep from cumming. It doesn’t make him last much longer, and he pulls out just in time, and you scoot to the side in a hurry, his come landing in the basin of the sink.

“Jesus Christ,” he breathes. “I’m sorry, I can try to finger you again, or something.”

You laugh. “Simon, it’s fine. Some dudes would have come just from seeing me in my underwear. It’s fine.”

He nods, and his forehead is slightly sweaty, hair sticking to it, and his cheeks are flushed.

“I feel bad if you die and I didn’t give you an orgasm,” he says.

“Well then let’s both try our hardest not to die, and you can give me one another time. Deal?”

He grins. “Deal.”

#simon kalivoda #simon kalivoda x reader #fear street 1994 #fear street #simon fear street #fear street netflix #horror movie imagine #horror movie reader insert #horror movies #horror reader insert

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arofluxstuff · 4 years ago

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The problem with the nuclear family model

An unnecessary division of community. It's a direct product "American dream" propaganda, and the individualistic "pick yourself up by your bootstraps" ideals.

And it is Hurting people.

This concept of families consisting of 3-5 individuals two of which are an adult cis man and woman, the rest being their biological children is completely unrealistic even for some of the people most committed to this ideal. To begin with conceiving children is difficult, and bearing children can be dangerous for the the person carrying them. This dream is one medical condition away from being unattainable whether because one of the would-be parents is unable to have kids or because of a pregancy-related complication that harms the parent or child.

The pressure to birth your own children leads to many women developing lower self-worth or poor mental health because they feel that so much of their worth as humans relies on their ability to bear children. Adoption could be a wonderful option for those who want children, not just as a backup plan but as their primary method of seeking to raise kids. However this is against societal expectations.

Even queer folks, who by nature of who they are don't fit within the mold of the nuclear family, are pressured to strive to be as close as possible to that ideal because any other way would simply prove how different they are from the clearly superior straights cis folks./s

This concept insists upon conformity and isolation. People are shamed for living parents into adulthood, and are treated as immature outcasts without further inquiry as to why they're living with family. When people do comply they are divided into groups with only one other adult who is expected to be their only emotional support and vice versa. Women can, in some cases, depend on other friends for some support but it's dependent upon whether they have time to cultivate close friendships along with the stress of parenting, maintaining a romantic connection with their spouse, and whatever job they might have. Men on the other hand are expected to not offer each other support at all lest they be viewed as weak.

This is not a recipe for an emotionally healthy environment for children to grow up in especially since many people have children out of obligation and are completely baffled as to what to Do about this tiny human in their care.

The concept of community into adulthood has all but died as friendships are steadily shuffled to the wayside as the least important of relationships in people's lives.

People on the asexual or aromantic spectrum are obviously harmed by this, as a desire for sex and romance are integral to this ideal and people who are either asexual OR aromantic will often, in an attempt to be respected, point out the ways in which they DO adhere to the standards, thereby throwing the other community squarely under scrutiny in their place (ex. "Well c'mon, I'm not a robot, I still like sex!" or "We still love just like everybody else!").

In the same vein, this affects everyone who wants non-traditional relationships such as queerplatonic relationships or polyamory. These are typically seen as childish or immoral respectively. Because the view point of the general public is that if you aren't doing relationships the way they think you should be you are at best stupid and immature and at worst gross and harmful.

And the worst part is that the only reason for this standard to exist is to make sure people are doing good for business. Each household buying one of each appliance or piece of technology leads to higher profits. People will be too tired from trying to shoulder all their responsibilities as a duo to realize that they aren't being paid enough, aren't being treated well. And I don't think I need to explain how destroying community is good for making sure no large groups are forming which might disrupt the status quo.

Families were not (and still aren't) structured like this in much of the world. There are plenty of cultures where multigenerational households are the norm. Allowing for the young to care for the old and allowing for more dependence upon one another in families with more people to share the load.

And yet even people who claim to understand that families don't all look the same and sing the praises of found families in media can't conceptualize of such a family in real life if the relationships between members aren't falling into the expected patterns of parent-child, siblings, or romantic partners.

The nuclear family is bullshit and serves as only a way to control and divide us, stop letting it trap you

#nuclear family #aromantic #asexual #polyamory #lgbtq #queer

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tnystrk-exe · 4 years ago

Text

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish.

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything.

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge.

“Yes, darling?”

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.”

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected.

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself.

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?”

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day.

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.”

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them. “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment.

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive.

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands.

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him.

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.” He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.”

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting.

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too.

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his.

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured.

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin.

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly.

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste.

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him.

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed.

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?”

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind.

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place.

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers.

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully.

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage.

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.”

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him.

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty.

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer.

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.”

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw.

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips.

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach. Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation.

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you.

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep.

NextChapter

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x reader #reader insert #smut #hannibal #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal x reader

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erimeows · 4 years ago

Note

How do you think Megatron would react when he finally admits to himself he has feelings for an organic?

Man, I love writing Megatron in love. Headcanons/scenario below the cut, thanks for the request; enjoy!

I feel like Megatron would try to ignore it at first, just like he would with feelings for another Cybertronian, but much, much worse.

Organic aside, relationships aren’t really something he believes are meant for him. He’s a Decepticon leader, he can’t show weakness, and if he dares to get close to someone, there’s a good chance that they could be used against him. So generally speaking, he keeps his distance.

But then you come along.

You have a bad interaction with the Autobots; one of them accidentally wrecks your house in a battle and offers you no compensation or even another place to say, only apologizing before running off, so you do some research on Cybertronians, find out about the Decepticons, and somehow do enough digging to find their base.

Megatron is shocked when you show up one day and pledge your allegiance to him and to the Decepticon cause, but when you explain your reasoning, he can tell that you’re genuine; Autobots are martyr-complex-having, inconsiderate fools who do what they can to look good and act like they’re doing ‘right’, their council is a bunch of stuck up pricks who don’t allow anyone to be an individual or have freedom, and they all act like they’re a working part of a system instead of their own mech/femme with an actual personality. Megatron is kinda like... yeah, okay, whatever. He almost tries to blow you off, but Shockwave and Soundwave argue that you could reveal some weaknesses that the humans have and that you’re an unthreatening enough figure that you could be used as a productive spy. So, he keeps you around and gives you a place to stay on base.

At first, he acts indifferent towards you; you’re a gross, human fleshbag that he wants nothing to do with outside of work, but he sees that you and Soundwave get along since you share a lot of the same ideals about humans needing to do their own work instead of relying on robots to do it for them, and you and Shockwave are actually quite friendly. Hell, you and Lugnut and Blitzwing even make a great trio. So, indirectly, without even realizing it at first, Megatron becomes fond of you through observing your conversations with the others. You’re respectable, brave, bold, honest, and you’re fully self-aware. He finds that, unlike the other humans, he doesn’t mind you; you don’t see him or his cause as evil and actually treat him with respect, and you don’t run or cower or act shy around him either- that shit gets on his nerves.

He knows it’s a bad idea, but he starts talking to you personally. In his berth room, you two exchange intel you’ve collected, and afterwards, you always hang around for an hour or so for in-depth discussions, about your lives and dreams and hopes and philosophies. He frequently finds himself sharing ancient data tablets containing Decepticon works of literature on them with you, and eventually, the two of you have/develop a lot in common.

Not all humans are gross like he thought they were initially, he realizes... In fact, though he’d never say so out loud, you smell nice and the few fleeting touches he’s had with you are always pleasant because of how warm and soft you are.

The first time he thinks about the rapid pace of the relationship the two of you have cultivated and about his feelings for you is after you’re injured. Your cover as a spy gets blown and surprisingly enough, you mention to escape Optimus Prime and the other four members of his team, but you come back sustaining some rough cuts/gashes from when Prowl chucked his shuriken at your clothes to try to pin you to the wall with them; they’re all along your arms, legs, and a few even managed to graze your sides.

You return to the base bloodied and beaten from their attempts to detain you, and though Soundwave and Shockwave (who are easily your best friends at that point) insist that they’re fully capable of handling your medical care, Megatron realizes that he wants to do it himself- doesn’t know why he wants to do it, just knows that he does and that no one is going to stop him. So, he takes you to the med bay and uses the small amount of human medical equipment they obtained for you to disinfect your wounds as you walk him through the process verbally, stitches the ones that need stitching, and wraps/bandages them. It involves you being half-clothed, and though he certainly isn’t going to ogle you like a pervert, he can’t help how his intake hitches at being so close to you when you’re so exposed and vulnerable. It just feels very intimate, and it’s something he’s not used to; no one has dared touch him in thousands of years outside of battle, nor has he touched another outside of such context.

You have to stay in the med bay overnight so that your vitals can be monitored and you can have your dressings changed and antibiotics given to you to prevent your wounds from getting infected. Megatron is also sure to give you painkillers if you need them and keep you well-fed/hydrated so you can heal properly.

He stays by your side while you sleep even though he doesn’t need to, watching you. He can’t help but think about how fascinating it is that your body is so fragile, so prone to bloody injuries when even slightly harmed, but you’re so strong and determined and courageous; completely dedicating yourself to his work, his cause, him when you didn’t have to. Part of that was out of your spite and dislike for the Autobots, but he admired that, too. You uprooted your entire life to come help him and the Decepticons, and even though he didn’t dare say something so kind out loud, he couldn’t help but appreciate you. Him taking care of you was just paying it forward.

You sleep peacefully, chest rising and falling with every breath you take and (s/c) cheeks dusted red. Occasionally, you’ll toss and turn, but at one point, you reach out for his servo in your sleep, so he takes your hand and holds it tight. If anyone ever saw him so tender and weak, he’d be done for, but you were asleep, so he figured it was fine- no one needed to know how much he loved you, not even you.

Oh.

Oh no. He loved you. As fate would have it, it all crashed down on him at once as he sat there, holding your hand. He had gone from assuming you were some disgusting human bag of flesh he wanted nothing to do with, to begrudgingly accepting you to help his cause, to respecting you, to befriending you, to... Falling in love with you. What terrible luck... Maybe it was his punishment for terrorizing organics for so many years, that he just so happened to fall in love with one.

The second he realizes it, he can’t deny it. You recover from your injuries well with Megatron by your side assisting you, but the more time he spends around you, the worse his feelings get, and he’s old enough that he’s not the kind of fool who pushes his feelings away. Instead, he wallows in them, bathes in them, drowns in them, and he drowns in you. It’s really horrible that he, a being so large and powerful and responsible for mass destruction, is so enamored with you, a being so small and delicate and honest. You’re an unfortunate soul, and if you love him back, it’s even worse.

It comes out naturally one of the nights that you’re locked up in his room together discussing some Decepticon poetry you read recently. It was one of his favorite works, and you seemed like you’d enjoyed it, too. Silence falls between you for a moment before he says, “I love you, (y/n). I never thought I’d stoop as low as to fall for an organic, but you’re the only one worth falling for, and Primus, have I fallen.”. The atmosphere doesn’t go tense or awkward, and you only smile up at him, putting the data tablet with the poem on it down on his night table before turning to him.

“And I thought I’d never fall for the leader of an alien robot rebellion, but here I am, and you’re worth falling for, too.”

It’s peaceful, nothing heated or tense but tender and relaxing as he pulls you into his arms and holds you close to him... Maybe being in love with an organic wasn’t so bad, after all.

#tfa #transformers #transformers animated #megatron #tfa megatron #megatron x reader #tfa megatron x reader #ask #asks #my asks #request #requests

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headspacedad · 3 years ago

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Cinderella and the Four Knights

so my sleep schedule is shot anyway and I’m currently watching kdrama on Netflix. Shout out to @netflix for having my back and having just about any eclectic thing I want to watch available.

Anyway, I’m currently watching Cinderella and the Four Knights which is this cute little story about an Every(wo)man who gets pulled into the life of these ultra-rich guys and tries to turn them into human beings. I’m only on episode five at the moment but I’m going to give my review of it so far. No spoilers (just uneducated speculation) so don’t worry. First off - main cast.

We’ve got - in order: KPop Guy, Motorcycle Jerk, Main Girl, Playboy and the one I refer to with great affection as Mr. Efficient. I think on those names alone you can already tell who I like best. Taking it from the top though, thoughts so far:

KPop Guy is adorable and easily the most likeable of the lot. I cannot see him as being ‘in the running’ for wooing Main Girl but he’s honestly the best out of the three. Thoughtful, insightful and without all the built up daddy issues the other two guys seem to have, he’s a sweetheart so far and I really like how comfortable him and Main Girl are jiving together. He totally deserves the Male Bestie spot for her.

Next up is Motorcycle Jerk. They’re trying to go with Bad Boy with a Vulnerable Heart with him but he just resorts to bullying tactics too much for me to like him. I get that he’s ‘got a hard shell she has to crack/melt’ but honestly I don’t see why the effort would be worth it despite the fact the show has gone out of its way to show why he’s hurting and lashing out as a result. But every time the music kicks on and things go slow mo between him and MG I just kind of sigh and wait for it to be over. NOT rooting for this guy. The motorcycle and martial arts just aren’t enough to redeem him.

Main Girl is next and she is SO FREAKING ADORABLE!!! I am super happy she’s the center of the show, I care about what she cares about and I really feel for how wrecked her life is and yet how resilient and positive she forces herself to stay. Things are absolutely not getting handed to her on a platter and she’s so freaking cute without being oversaturated. I also love how physically tough she is and I’m quite pleased that when I muttered ‘you could just head butt him again’ she nailed the guy in the shin. Tiny cute with lion fists? Not going to apologize, I eat it up. I want whoever makes her happy for her and I’m not sure any of the three guys is it.

Playboy is, of course, the standard playboy. I’m not sure if they’re going to bring in some depth for him later or not but right now he’s just filling the ‘never had a girl that’s not cookie cutter and MG intrigues him for her lack of ‘put up with his bullshit’.’ I’m pretty sure he’s End Game for her just with the way the writing is and, so far, he’s not horrible, just standard. I don’t dislike him because he’s pretty unapologetic about what he is and upfront with it so anyone getting hurt should have seen it coming. I just don’t like him either because he hasn’t done anything to win me. I mean, I like an asshole (looking at you early game Cloud Strife) but I’d like a bit more than ‘asshole’ and ‘girl opens his eyes’.

Last, but never least, is Mr. Efficient (beloved)

He is super clearly not in the running for MG at this point but I am loving their interaction and how she loosens him up. Kpop also gets him involved in some HiJinks and its pretty cute watching them run around snickering together. Also he likes MG’s cooking so he gets points. And he is, as stated, super efficient and so far the only one that’s 1. not got his head up his ass and 2. seems to know what he’s doing. I can’t picture him romantic with MG but I do think they’re good for each other and she’s letting him be human instead of the robot his job requires of him. Plus he treats her like a human being, which is more than Motorcycle and Playboy do and I very much like him for that. He’s not for her - but I’d take him in a heartbeat.

There’s also this girl

I was hoping I could call her Bestie because she comes off a pretty sweet and kind and determined. I do like her - but she’s really got a bad case of stalker syndrome and ‘no doesn’t mean no’ when it comes to one of the guys and, having been the girl on the receiving end of that in my past, there is no way I can get behind her until she lets that shit go. Obviously something went on the past that’s not been revealed yet and my opinion may change but right now she’s not quite into ‘jealous enemy’ territory for MG but she’s hanging on way too hard to someone that has made it very obvious they don’t want to be hung on to. Plus I think its pretty heavily hinted that one of the other ‘Knights’ has a thing for her and she’d be much better off with him anyway. Kudos to the show for not, at this point, making her a bitch to MG though. Its not fun watching her get hurt over and over again and girl needs to Just Let That Shit Go and stop doing that to herself.

Bestie title goes to the friend in pink that I can’t find a picture of that is just the cutest and most supportive friend MG could have and I utterly uplift that girl. She’s top notch even if she barely gets any screen time.

There is a wicked step mother and wicked step sister (and the father’s an ass too though its obvious he’s got something going on with a side quest that will no doubt show up later) so its really easy to root for MG and be glad when she gets away from her family. I won’t be upset if raccoons eat that family. There’s some drama going on in the background with an evil wife and the CEO that brought all the Knights together but I honestly don’t care. I just like the CEO when he’s interacting with MG at this point because he gets cute and she gets to be extra cute. I suspect, as a parental figure, he sucks.

And that’s what I’ve got so far with episode five set up to go on my screen. Cute so far and I’d recommend it at this point as light hearted and not too deep fluff. I’ll come back and do a bit more once I’m further in but so far, so good.

#cinderella and the four knights #kdrama #netflix #kdrama review #so far its cute #korean drama #okay to reblog #and add comments to #no spoilers yet though please #still on the ride

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kieraelieson · 4 years ago

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No Rest for the Deathworlders

Logan had always loved the stars.

Still did, though his love had been dampened by the way in which he was currently seeing them.

He watched out the window, or rather, screen, but it was made to show the outside of the ship, and thinking of it as a window was oddly comforting. A bit of something close to home.

A lump grew in his throat at the thought of home, pressing against the collar. He forced himself back to a neutral, tugging the collar away from the front of his throat as far as it would go. A brief flicker of anger replaced the nostalgia. Anger at the collar, at his own inability to remove it, at the monsters that had forced it onto him, at his own complacency now that it was on.

He didn’t have it as bad as some other humans did, he was well aware. All the collar did was teleport him to the location of the person holding the remote. Granted, it was unpleasant and incredibly disorienting, but nothing like the near-torture he’d heard was the more common method of keeping humans captive.

The captain of the ship was smart in choosing Logan, as far as the welfare of the ship went.

“You’re invested in your own survival,” He’d said through the translators. “If the ship goes down, you’ll go with it. If you sabotage the ship and try to escape on a pod, I can get you back to me immediately, and you’ll meet the same fate as you intended for us. It’s in your best interests to cooperate and to bond with the crew.”

Well, Logan could agree that it was in his best interests to cooperate. But no one could make him get attached to anyone. And no one could stop him from making little problems.

Like ignoring the insistent, “Human, where are you? Human!” that was coming from his communicator.

The window dissolved in front of him, and Logan felt abruptly as if he were on the world’s worst rollercoaster for several seconds. It took him a minute to register the angry captain now in front of him. He was yelling something, but not through the communicator, so Logan couldn’t understand what. And he was far too dizzy and almost nauseous to pay attention even if it was understandable.

He shook his head slowly from side to side and up and down once, hoping to clear the vertigo somewhat.

“You must come when called!” The communicator translated. “Or at least answer!”

Logan stubbornly remained silent, the dizziness gradually clearing.

For an alien that looked more like a slime monster than anything with a real face, the captain still managed to look extremely displeased. Not that Logan cared.

“There are ------ trailing our ship,” the captain said, one of his words not translating properly. “We need to go faster or we’ll get boarded.”

Ok, maybe Logan did care.

“Humans are supposed to be good at making ships go faster, fix it.”

Logan frowned. “I’ve been here three days,” he said into the communicator. “I hardly know how anything in the ship works, much less how to improve any of its functions!”

“I’ve studied humans, I know better than that, fix it.” The captain said shortly.

Logan opened his mouth to protest, but the room around him dissolved, the horrible spinning sensation back. His legs gave out and he dropped onto the floor in a different place.

He swallowed hard, his stomach threatening to upend itself.

“And they call you deathworlders,” someone scoffed. “A transporter has you on your knees.”

Beyond his sick feelings, and the anger at being mocked, he caught onto that plural reference. Was there another human on the ship?

In addition, there were apparently multiple remotes to the teleporter around his throat, which ruined his plan of trying to steal or fight the captain for the one.

He slowly sat up, his head still spinning. He hoped that his body would eventually grow accustomed to the teleportation and the dizziness would stop being so awful.

There was a chittering sound beside him that the translator didn’t attempt to process. He turned to see an alien that would likely be very tall if it wasn’t on all fours. It was very thin, with long arms and legs, which ended in smooth nubs, without hands or feet. The front two, which Logan thought of as arms, though the alien probably would have a different name for them, seemed to be perforated along the last six inches. As Logan watched, one of them was extended towards him slowly, and something softer could be seen on the inside. It was able to be extruded through the holes, and was likely the way in which the alien could grasp things.

He backed away from the limb before it could touch him, and the alien also backed away a step, making a low woody sounding whistle, like air blown over a jug. It’s head looked rather moth-like, with antenna that curled and straightened, and large eyes.

The alien seemed sentient, though Logan was confused that the translator wasn’t picking up on its speech.

Until he saw a very familiar collar, only around their waist. They were also captive then. And possibly, though it disappointed his hopes of meeting another human, they were the other deathworlder, also affected poorly by the teleportation.

The strange attempted touch then, could have potentially been intended as comfort or aid.

“You’ve been sitting long enough, get this ship to move faster,” the other alien in the room grumbled.

Logan glared. “How am I even supposed to do that?” He snapped. “I don’t have training or experience, I don’t know what half this stuff is and I can’t read your labels!”

“You can either fix it now, or we can teleport you between here and the captain until you do.” The alien's tone was disgusting and wet, and Logan was glad he could focus on the robot sound of the translator as his stomach lurched again.

He could try.

If nothing else, he might learn some new things and be able to convince them that he really wasn’t able to just do things he’d never tried before.

The room was smaller than he would’ve expected, presuming he was in a kind of engine room. Around the edges of the room were a number of bins, holding substances ranging from powders to liquids.

In the center of the room was a glass tube that went from floor to ceiling, and seemed to be filled with a glowing crystal stalagmite. From the top of the tube dripped some kind of liquid, and at the bottom it flowed out in small pipes, glowing the same as the crystal and possibly converted into fuel.

He could assume that with all of the powders and liquids that there was a chemical reaction causing the substance to obtain the glowing quality and become fuel. But what that was, and how to know what was safe to change about it, he had no idea.

“Well?” The alien, whom he now assumed to be what served as the ship’s engineer, asked.

He was making so many assumptions, and still was barely anywhere. They could all be wrong.

“Explain to me how it works,” Logan said. “Then I’ll try to ‘fix’ it.”

The alien made an unpleasant sound that the translator interpreted as a sigh. “This is a ——-, the liquid is a mixture of ——, ——, ——-, and ——, but it could be made with any of the ——— family instead of the ———, or you could replace the ———- with ——— for better efficiency at different energy levels. We also have several forms of ———-, which ought to make more potent fuel for higher speeds, but every time we’ve tried the ———- smokes and explodes and there’s residue in the tubing for several rotations which puts us at a standstill.”

Logan grimaced. He had a very small idea of what was being said based on gestures, but he’d much prefer to have names and details. It seemed this was a very large and dangerous version of chemistry experiments, with no textbook, and his only advice coming from someone who hadn’t studied.

Well, there was the other ‘deathworlder’ in the room. He could only hope they knew something about any of this. Though the difficulty in communication might make that knowledge impossible to access.

He turned towards them anyway. “Can you understand me at all?”

They made another low whistling sound, followed by chittering. One arm waved, with… could he call them fingers? gesturing towards Logan.

He hoped desperately that he could consider that to be a yes.

“What would you do in—“

The engineer’s communicator interrupted him. “We thought we’d have a few more rotations but they’re closing in, has the human done anything yet?”

“No,” the engineer said. “It’s just staring at everything.”

“Well get it to hurry!”

The other ‘deathworlder’ made a long series of noises, pointing at one bin in particular and then at a place where it seemed the not-yet-fuel liquid was.

It was a foolish thing. A very foolish thing. But Logan took a scoop from the bin and dumped the powder into the liquid.

It bubbled and fizzed on contact, sending up thick clouds of a dark blue smoke.

An alarm blared.

The ship lurched, knocking them all to the ground.

And then the new ingredient actually hit the crystal, and there was a loud, high pitched ringing.

Logan covered his ears and shut his eyes, feeling like a weight was pressing him to the floor.

Everything was spinning, and loud, and then it was loud in a very different, but no less painful way.

“Protect me!” The captain shrieked.

There was a pained, screeching scream.

Logan was shoved, but he was barely aware of which direction, let alone what he was supposed to do about any of it.

Something grabbed onto his shoulders, and he flailed, hitting and kicking indiscriminately. Something burned on his side, and he kicked into something much more solid, sending a throbbing pain up his leg.

Everything was noise and pain and lights and movement and he didn’t understand any of it!

Logan struck out blindly at anything that came near him.

He thought he’d backed into a wall, but something must’ve been behind him, and it hit him hard over the head. He dropped to the floor, tears swimming in his eyes and blurring everything even further.

Everything dissolved around him and he was falling, spinning, dropping, tossed.

He was grateful more than anything when unconsciousness took him.

•^*^••

He woke slowly, feeling hazy and heavy. It was quiet, and not too bright, nothing was touching him. So he didn’t bother to open his eyes, just laying still.

He wasn’t dead at least.

Probably the pirates had attacked. Definitely he’d ruined the ship he’d been on.

The question was, was being with pirates any better than living on a ruined ship with aliens that considered him to be some kind of hyper-intelligent slave?

Or perhaps the question was, where was he now?

He forced his eyes open.

He was in a relatively large, empty room. The floor and walls seemed bare, though patched, not all of a single material.

He pushed himself up. There was a loud skittering noise away from him, and he yelped, flinging himself away clumsily.

He turned, and saw the other deathworlder, front legs shaking and making a rattling noise. He wasn’t sure if it was a fear response, a method of communication, or even some kind of threat display.

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, backing up a little farther.

The other alien didn’t try to come close again, so he figured it was mostly likely not interested in threatening him. There wasn’t an echo of his words in an alien language though, and he patted his shoulder to discover that the translator had been taken. His hand went to his throat, disappointed to find that they’d left the collar.

It was still there on the other alien also. They were both still prisoners then, wherever they were.

Looking around, it seemed that they were in an empty cargo space, rather than a proper holding cell, so there was a slightly greater possibility of escape.

There was that low whistling sound again. Logan was certain it was meant as a form of communication.

He tried whistling back, as low as he was capable of.

The alien chittered and shook its legs again, but Logan couldn’t tell even if it was a positive or negative reaction.

“I… don’t know how to talk with you,” he said, keeping his tone low and calm. He sat in a comfortable, loose position, hoping to get across the calm in his tone and posture. “But I’d like to try. I’m not sure what anything you’re doing means, and it’s possible you’re in the same situation. I’m hoping that you have more knowledge of humans than I do of your kind, and that you’ll be able to make better inferences than I’m currently capable of.”

The alien cocked its head to the side, watching him as he spoke. It took a tentative step forward on its spindly legs, and then propped itself on three, holding the fourth out to him.

Logan eyed the appendage. The softer inside substance was filling the holes, making it appear to have small bumps, rather than holes. He held out a hand to it, but didn’t try to touch.

The alien bumped the end of its leg into Logan’s palm.

That seemed… good? Perhaps this was a greeting similar to a handshake?

Logan very gently grasped the end of the appendage, the softer inside substance feeling cool to the touch, and almost like a stiff putty, whereas the harder outer shell felt very smooth and rigid, similar to metal, but light.

The alien retracted their arm, and then looked between their arm and his hand. The inner substance reformed, pressing out from several holes into a clear attempt at fingers. It seemed to be fully controlled by the alien, and moveable, albeit much more slowly than Logan could move his own fingers.

“That’s very impressive,” Logan said.

The alien chittered back at him.

Perhaps they could get somewhere through a kind of charades.

•^*^••

“I think that’s all we can carry,” Roman said, looking over the wreckage.

“We can hold more, we aren’t full yet,” Remus protested, still sad that some of the ship’s inhabitants had taken the escape pods. Aside from the power crystal, which was far too unstable to take, they were the best value on the little ship.

“The whole 3rd cargo bay is empty for the two deathworlders, we’re full.” Roman insisted.

“Oh. Forgot about them. Well, if we can hold ‘em, they might be enough to make it worth it.”

“If we can refill,” Roman grumbled. “I was expecting usable power from this ship.”

It had really been a not-very-great raid. They’d lost Aide, and Bill, and Rahgezis, and hadn’t even gotten much of anything good out of it.

And the deathworlders were far too grumpy to join the crew. If they’d had enough room they would’ve separated them, but he just took away the translators and hoped they weren’t already pack-bonded, and wouldn’t become so. Two single deathworlders were bad enough, two together? Their ship would be a wreck from the inside out.

They needed to give them a rotation or two to calm down, try and have a talk, and then drop them off at the nearest Embassy and get away before bad things happened.

Maybe the Embassy would even pay them for handing over deathworlders. Or maybe they’d arrest them for being pirates.

But without Rahgezis, Remus didn’t want to attempt anything on the black market with such a high demand as deathworlders.

And the teleportation bands should make it a little easier on them. They were super old, and no one in their right mind would use them, except as a practical joke, or a way of keeping enemies too off balance to attack. The ones on the two of them had been fused closed, rather than the usual buckle, so he felt more safe trying to hold the deathworlders than he would otherwise.

They’d only found one remote, but Inshes was already working on making a second.

“I’m going to see if the Scraascik is on any registries,” Roman said. “And I’ll check for the Human, but that’s less likely.”

Remus nodded. “I’ll handle getting us moving again. If they’re awake, maybe you could see about dropping some food into the cargo bay.”

“Yeah, I’ll try.” Roman sighed.

Remus set a claw on Roman’s back. Roman grumbled, leaning into Remus’s side, and then went off to do his research.

It’d been a hard day for both of them.

•^*^••

They’d managed to exchange names… sort of. The alien’s name was two notes, whistled lower than Logan was capable of, and likewise there was no way of the alien being able to pronounce the word Logan.

But the alien made a deep, almost resonant sound, that was as close as it seemed they could get to anything involving vocal cords. And that was their version of Logan.

Logan considered the two note sound, and came up with a slightly similar-sounding name. Virgil.

Neither of their names for each other were really very similar to their actual names, but they were able to understand each other, and that was what mattered.

As it turned out, Virgil was stronger than he was at pushing things, or hitting, but they couldn’t pull with any strength.

Logan was focusing his attention on the door, and had been so far unsuccessful in prying it open. It was solidly locked, and the lock seemed to only be on the other side of the door. Which likely meant that this room was detachable from the rest of the ship, in case of emergency or danger.

“Virgil.” Logan said, and Virgil turned to look at him from the patch on the wall they’d been inspecting.

Logan hit the door with his palm, his arm straight, in an imitation of the way he’d seen Virgil hit some of the patches, trying to break them. “Hit here.” He pointed at Virgil, and then at a spot where he suspected the lock was.

Virgil made a chittering sound and shambled over.

Logan again mimicked the strike, and then pointed at Virgil.

Virgil got into position. They were able to balance on three legs and rock their whole body weight forward to strike that small point their arm hit with all their strength and weight together.

They tried three times, but the door held firm.

Logan was impressed that they did not seem hurt by the attempt. Their exoskeleton must be very strong indeed. Which was possibly a part of why they were considered a deathworlder.

Logan wondered what their home planet was like.

The door suddenly opened, an alien clearly holding up one of the remotes to the teleporters.

Virgil backed away, turning and running to the other end of the room.

The alien spoke into a small microphone, which translated. “I brought food. Don’t come near me.”

The alien’s body looked almost bear-like, but with longer legs, clearly bipedal. They were only about half the size of a bear though. The fur also was shorter and sparser, and a very reddish kind of brown. The hands looked more useful than a bear’s paws as well. The head though was very unlike a bear’s. Logan didn’t know what to compare it to.

The alien was wearing clothes, which Logan had learned was entirely optional to most aliens, in bright reds and goldish yellows.

Perhaps this meant that this particular alien was more… Logan hesitated to say civilized. He scarcely knew anything about aliens, and could hardly make such judgements about them. Still, he believed he had a bit more chance reasoning with this one.

“Let us out of here,” he said, grateful that the translator picked it up and interpreted it.

“No.”

“We will leave you alone, we will not harm the ship. Let us go,” Logan said calmly but firmly.

The alien again said no, pushing in a tray of what could be food into the room with their foot, already starting to close the door.

“Wait!” Logan said, stepping forward.

The alien jumped, and pushed the button on the remote.

It didn’t seem to affect Logan, but instead Virgil was teleported close to the door. Virgil stumbled, falling against the wall and letting out what could only be described as a scream.

The alien who had delivered food looked even more scared now, and quickly shut the door. Logan pushed through his shock and alarm to try to open the door before it could be locked, but he was too late.

Virgil slumped to the ground, scream fading to a whistling wheeze.

As bad as the teleportation felt to him, Logan was scared that Virgil was being injured by it. Perhaps on the inside, where they were softer. Or perhaps it put too much strain on their rigid exoskeleton.

Was there anything he could do? He didn’t have any idea about what Virgil could need for medical care, and he didn’t want an attempt at comfort to be construed as an attack, especially while Virgil was vulnerable.

He knelt close to Virgil, a bit farther than an arm's length.

“Virgil?”

Virgil’s eyes opened, and from this close Logan could see the differentiation between pupil and iris. Virgil’s eyes were moving back and forth, like Logan had seen before in children who’d been spun in circles. He was likely still extremely disoriented then.

Virgil lifted one arm and waved it around slowly. It knocked into Logan’s shoulder lightly, and Virgil kept tapping it against his shoulders and head. Logan allowed it without complaint, guessing that it was grounding to Virgil, being able to verify that Logan was in one place and not moving, not spinning.

Virgil gradually steadied, taking their arm back.

Logan wished he had a way to ask ‘are you ok?’, but he didn’t. The best he had was, “Virgil?”

The whistle-clack he got in return seemed more positive than negative, though he had no way of accurately judging alien tones.

“Logan.”

Logan nodded, as it seemed the correct response.

Virgil pointed towards the nearly-forgotten tray, and Logan went to get it. Virgil struggled to their feet, looking something like a very large baby deer first trying to stand. If Logan had to guess, Virgil’s kind didn’t frequently sit or lie down.

The tray had a number of small round roll-like things that Logan was now accustomed to seeing. They were similar to banana bread in texture, but the taste was salty and rather bitter. When he’d asked, he’d been told that they were the standard in rations as they kept for a long time, and held an array of nutrients that was sufficient for the basic needs of a majority of species.

He suspected that he would require some greens or fruit if he continued eating these primarily, but he hadn’t seen any anywhere, only these.

Virgil stood over him and leaned down as much as they seemed easily capable of, which still left their head several feet above the ground. Logan was just wondering if they would need assistance to eat when a very long tongue, or perhaps proboscis, unrolled from their mouth and curled around one of the rolls, pulling it up into their mouth.

“What do you eat natively?” Logan wondered aloud. “And do you need water?”

There was a pitcher of water and two small cups. Logan poured one cup full and held it out to Virgil.

Virgil seemed to still be chewing, however, and incapable of drinking while doing so. Or perhaps they didn’t require water. Though, now that Logan was watching, he didn’t believe they were chewing at all. Certainly there was no jaw movement. They could be massaging the food with their tongue, and have particularly effective saliva perhaps.

Logan started eating a roll, setting Virgil’s cup down and filling the other for himself.

A minute later Virgil’s tongue unrolled again and drained the cup, seemingly effective as a massive straw.

“You really are fascinating,” Logan said softly. “Were we not in such a situation I would love to learn more about you.”

Virgil responded with a series of clicks and whistles.

“As it is though, we probably ought to attempt an escape. They haven’t tried to get anything from us, which makes me think they intend on trafficking us further. Most likely they don’t have the power to force us into work like the last ship did, so I think, despite the danger, that this will be our best chance. Of course, the danger is greater for you, the teleportation seems to hurt you much more than it does me.” Logan thought for a while. “I think our best bet would be to try forcing our way out the door the next time it opens. Perhaps one of us could knock the remote away. It is enlightening to know that the remote only works on one of us at a time.”

Logan sighed. “Of course we don’t know when or if they’ll enter again. It’s possible we’ll be held here until we reach wherever we’re going.”

Virgil made a low, soft whistle.

Logan laid on his back. “I can’t even properly ask you for your partnership. It’s infuriating to not be able to succeed at anything I attempt. There’s such a wealth of knowledge that is necessary, and I have no idea of any of it. Nor a way of learning, save through painful experience. I can’t become complacent, I have to effect change, but I never know when my efforts will be simply overturned.”

Virgil nudged his arm with their own.

Logan turned to look at them. Virgil chittered at him, bobbing up and down on their legs.

“What is it?”

“Logan.” Virgil said, still bobbing up and down.

Logan sat up. “I don’t understand.”

Virgil tapped his legs with their arm. “Logan.”

Logan stood up. “Is this what you want? Oh. If you don’t lay down to sleep, you must’ve been concerned when I did. I’ll have to sleep sometime though, and surely you’ve been exposed to aliens that lay down to sleep.”

But rather than relaxing, as Logan would assume Virgil would do if they were concerned, Virgil stepped closer, almost over Logan. Their antenna tilted towards him.

“Oh I see, this would be how you would confirm that I’m healthy, by feeling with your antenna, yes?” Logan remained still, unsurprised when there was a soft touch on his head.

But he was not at all expecting the sudden mental image of himself tackling the alien who’d delivered the food. It was so vivid it was as if he was already doing it, seeing the door open, tackling the alien, smashing the remote, and running forward to climb onto Virgil’s back as Virgil ran them both through the hallway.

Logan jerked back, falling on his butt. “What was that?! You have telepathy??”

Virgil made a movement that could be best described as a shrug.

Logan stood up again, reaching his hand out, battling his speed from excitement in an attempt not to scare Virgil. “Can we do it again?”

Virgil brushed his hand with their antenna, and the same scene flashed before his mind’s eye.

“Yes, yes I’ll do that! Can you understand my answer?”

Virgil made a whistle that Logan was almost certain was affirmative.

Logan paced back and forth excitedly, thinking out loud. “So you can communicate with me even if I can’t communicate with you well. And you very much want my partnership in escaping. We have a plan now. And a form of communication. Virgil, this is amazing!”

Virgil made an almost trilling noise.

•^*^••

“No, it hurt the Scraascik,” Roman said, already changing the ship’s course. “We can’t hold them safely, we have to get to the Embassy.”

“We didn’t even ask them to join us yet!” Remus protested.

“Would you join a strange crew after they hurt you?” Roman retorted, sending a message to the engine room to increase speed.

“Well what about the other one?”

“Remus. It won’t work.” Roman glared at him. “I don’t want to take chances with deathworlders.”

Remus sighed. “Fine. But let me try talking to them before we get there.”

Roman’s face went hard. “You have until we arrive,” he finally conceded.

Remus hurried down to the cargo bay.

He burst the door open, and it slammed shut behind him. Both deathworlders jolted, staring at him.

He then realized that he’d entirely forgotten the remote and the duplicate, and also that he was locked in a room with two deathworlders.

Well, there was a reason people joked he was addicted to adrenaline.

“Hello!” He said, waving. “I’m wondering if you’ll join my crew.”

The human moved first, standing up to a height decently taller than Remus was. And the Scraascik was even larger.

Perhaps he really was in serious danger.

“We just want to leave,” the human said, sounding rather threatening.

Probably telling them about the plan to hand them over to the Embassy then wasn’t a good idea until he was sure that he wasn’t in attack distance anymore. “You can, leave with us. Join our crew and you can adventure with us, raid ships, explore planets!”

“We want to leave alone,” the human said firmly.

“We? So… you bonded then? I guess that rumor is true, deathworlders all really do bond super fast.”

The human bared its teeth at him. “I will not be bonding to your crew based on your desires. I will not remain here, I want to leave. We want to leave.”

The Scraascik agreed in some of the most heavily accented Common Remus had ever heard. No wonder the translators hadn’t picked up any of his yelling when they’d boarded the ship. He’d probably need a translator to touch his antenna, but good luck getting a Scraascik to let anything touch their antenna.

“So you won’t even consider it?” Remus asked, not yet daunted.

“You’ve essentially kidnapped us, and both can and have hurt us! Why would I consider it?”

Yikes, the human sounded angry.

“Well we didn’t mean to hurt you, really, it’s not meant to be that bad. And we only kidnapped you from other kidnappers, and also I can’t hurt you cause I forgot the remote.”

The two deathworlders looked at each other, and Remus knew he really had gone and shoved his whole fist in his mouth. The human shifted position to a much more threatening crouch, as if it was going to pounce on him.

Remus held his arms out, claws at the ready. He might not have a hope of winning against deathworlders, but he could certainly make himself a pain of a target.

“I know I’m a pirate, but this was supposed to be just a talk,” Remus said, wondering if he’d be able to hit the communicator in time and if rescue was possible. Violent deathworlders in an enclosed space was not something he wanted his crew walking into, even for a rescue.

“It’s not much of a talk when we don’t have a say,” the human said, looking more and more threatening every second.

Iaoth , he wanted this human on his crew.

“Of course you have a say!” Remus said. “Name it, what position do you want, what pay, days off, I’ll give you whatever room in the ship you want as your quarters.”

“I fundamentally disagree with joining people that would knowingly traffic other people,” the human growled.

And then it leapt forward.

Remus yelped, swiping at the human and hitting the communicator with his other hand. “Roman!”

He was tackled to the ground, and the Scraascik pinned one arm while the human sat on his middle and held his other arm down.

“Remus?!” Roman’s voice came through the communicator.

“Let us go,” the human growled. “Once we’re out we’ll let them go.”

There was a tremor to the floor that Remus recognized. Roman must have been overloading the engine, they’d arrived and were docking.

“Is Remus ok?” Roman asked, sounding terrified.

“I’m fine, just a little stuck,” Remus said, trying to not sound scared so Roman wouldn’t get even more worried. “Laying under a deathworlder~ not quite as fun as I always imagined.”

Roman made a sound somewhere between a sob and laugh. “I’m coming to let you out. Don’t hurt him. Please.”

Remus was honestly a bit surprised that he was only pinned. The human was leaking blood from its shoulder and across its chest where Remus’s swipe had connected, but it hadn’t retaliated.

“Hurry,” the human said coldly.

The communicator turned off, and Remus had a strong suspicion Roman was calling the Embassy to have guards outside the ship when the cargo hold was opened.

“You sure you don’t want to join us?” Remus asked. “I know it won’t look like it from your end, but we don’t traffic, we take from ships we attack, but we’d either let them join us or take them to the authorities, we don’t just continue the traffic. And we could use people like you, you could help us take down so many more ships.”

The Scraascik leaned harder on his arm, and Remus grimaced.

“What would the authorities do?” The human asked.

“Uhhhh… well with the Scraascik, probably drop him back on his own planet, or with a Scraascik colony. Your planet though is still restricted, so they’d probably keep you until it’s opened.”

The human’s face contorted into something that did not look good for Remus.

“We’re on our way there, aren’t we?”

Remus wasn’t sure he dared lie, not when he was pinned to the ground with two very angry-seeming deathworlders over him. “Yeah.”

The human hit the communicator. “Listen.”

“I’m listening,” Roman said warily.

“Don’t open the cargo hold,” the human ordered. “You’re a pirate ship. You have smaller ships for scavenging, yes?”

“…yes.”

“Give us one.”

There was a long pause from Roman.

“Put food and fuel and translators in it,” the human said firmly. “We’re taking this one with us until we’re safely inside.”

This was probably wrecking Roman’s plans. There would be authorities involved and now no deathworlders to give them.

“Alright,” Roman said.

•^*^••

The door to the cargo hold was opened. Logan had the bear-alien in a tight hold, and Virgil was above them, looking like they were ready to strike out at anything that got within range.

They managed to walk along the halls until they reached the smaller ship. Logan had no idea how he was going to fly it, but it was the biggest chance by far that he’d had yet.

He shoved the bear alien away and slammed the door shut.

Virgil went immediately to the pilot’s seat, and Logan was amazed to see that there were places in the ceiling that fit their antenna. Soon there was a fast and loud humming, and the tiny ship lurched into motion.

•^*^••

Patton was being sent, since they didn’t really believe that there could be a Human and a Scraascik on the cobbled-together ship that had docked. So it was just him and Janus.

Janus wrapped his long tail around the back of Patton’s neck for balance as Patton walked back and forth, waiting for the ship to open its cargo bay.

It sure was taking a long time. They’d seemed so rushed when they called, but now they just wouldn’t open.

And then there was an engine powering up.

A teeny little scavenging ship took off from the bigger one, flying off. Patton scanned it, alarmed to see that there was indeed a Scraascik and a Human signature on board.

“Hey! Hey wait!”

He pulled out his radio, quickly setting it to the bigger ship’s frequency. “Let me in and go after them! We can’t let a Human go flying around unattended!”

“If they don’t let us in fast, go take the SC Meteor,” Janus said.

Patton wasn’t too surprised when the ship started undocking without answering him.

“We’ll get them!” He yelled, running for the Meteor.

#Forgot I meant to post this on tumblr and never did 😅#my own work #sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #humans are space orcs

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its-nebula · 4 years ago

Text

V3 Boys x Pregnant S/O in the Killing Game

Warning: DRV3 Spoilers

“S/O is what?!”

He panics and freaks out.

Calms down as soon as you tell him that you’ll get through it with him. It’s just all the more reason to survive.

“But Gonta… no can put child in this hell!”

He has a fire in his eyes that you honestly wouldn’t expect from him. You have to try your hardest to convince him not to fight Monokuma, out of fear of him being punished.

“Gonta will try to survive…for Gonta and S/O’s kid.”

He carries you everywhere from now on, not wanting you to strain yourself. If you ask, he puts you down, but will hold you and keep you close by.

During Class Trials, he immediately shuts any suspicion down.

“S/O can’t be culprit! Was with Gonta!”

You tell him to be wary of Kokichi, as you think Kokichi doesn’t have good intentions with your boyfriend. He just gives you a smile.

“Kokichi wants to end killing game just as much as Gonta!”

When all of you go in the simulation, Gonta makes sure you’re okay and that the baby’s okay. You don’t exactly look pregnant in the simulation, but he still makes sure. After that, he goes off to watch Kokichi, and you’re left to explore on your own.

To make a long story short, when Miu was killed, you noticed Kokichi giving you the side-eye, but didn’t say anything to him. You could tell he knew something that you didn’t.

During the Class Trial, the “Killing Game Busters” were revealed. You didn’t want to believe it was Gonta. You really didn’t. He would never hurt someone like that without a purpose…

“S/O, take care of Gonta’s baby. Gonta will be watching over you and baby!”

You sobbed as you watched his execution. The father of your child was burned alive, and he was never coming back.

Instantly, you unleashed all your rage onto Kokichi and his crocodile tears. Several people had to pull you off of him, claiming that the stress wouldn’t be good for the baby.

Besides, you could hit Kokichi with all the punches in the world, but nothing would bring him back…

Laughs when you tell him about it.

Laughs the second time you tell him about it.

“It is even funnier the second time!”

Doesn’t laugh the third time.

“Wait a minute. You can’t be serious-?!”

Hope you valued your alone time while it lasted, because that is now a thing of the past!

MINE! MINE! MINE! MINE!

Lets everyone know that they’re not even allowed near you. He keeps you in his room at all times, you barely even get to sleep in your own bed anymore.

He only really lets you out during Class Trials, and even then he convinces Monokuma to put his podium next to yours.

Constantly talks about how happy he is that he’s going to be a father, to the point everybody knows. Even the Monokubs are a little bit annoyed. So much for keeping it a secret.

“Hmm, nope! It can’t be me, sorry! I was too busy spending time with my child and my girlfriend~”

His logic is that since you’re pregnant, maybe nobody would kill you because they would feel too bad, so he doesn’t really mind screaming it to the world.

The longer the game goes on, though, the more fucked up things he feels compelled to do, in his efforts to try and stop the killing game.

You practically scream at him when he pretends to be dead.

“Aw, don’t worry your pretty little head! I’m alright, aren’t I?”

Maki keeps sending her threats for him to you.

“If you want to raise the child with a stable 2-Parent family, I suggest you calm your boyfriend down.”

During the fifth trial, things are very tense. Either way, your boyfriend was either dead or going to die. You knew it was all a part of his scheme, but you still thought this was a step too far.

When Kaito was revealed in the Exisal, you bawled your eyes out.

Even as Shuichi explained Kokichi’s thought process, it made nothing better.

You didn’t even get to say goodbye…

And your child would never meet his father.

Wait, you’re what?

Oh no.

In a killing game?!

Oh no.

And he’s the father???

Oh NO.

You’re surprised that he doesn’t faint, by the way he’s acting.

“S/O, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to, really!”

You tell him that it’s okay, because you know he’ll make a great parent. You’ve made him a little more confident, but not by a lot.

“We should probably keep this a secret for now. You can never really be too careful in these circumstances.”

Everyone can tell something’s off with him, because he gets really bad Couvade syndrome.

He still tries to help you as much as he can. If you’re craving something he brings you it almost immediately.

If your stomach moves even a tiny bit, he assumes the baby is coming even though he knows better. You have to tell him that it’s only a kick and he needs to take it down a couple of notches.

“Heh…sorry.”

His anxiety is through the ROOF.

Still tries to work on it. He’s got to be strong for you.

Trains with Kaito to help him become stronger, and brings you along with him.

“Hey Shuichi, don’t you think S/O might want to train with us?”

“It’s okay Kaito, S/O gets really sleepy during this time.”

Tries his hardest during class trials. He can’t afford to take shit from anybody and risk getting you killed. Hits the killers with the hard facts and evidence.

Investigates with you by his side.

“Now the baby can see his father in action!”

At the 6th Trial, he reveals your pregnancy, even though Tsumugi already knew.

Nobody else did. How? Guess they weren’t paying attention to your ever-increasing stomach.

When everyone ducks under rocks, Shuichi shields you with his body for extra protection. After the two of you make it out alive, along with Maki and Himiko, the 4 of you go off to start a new life together.

“WHAAAATTTT?!”

Thinks you cheated on him.

He’s very hurt.

You spend almost an hour convincing him that he’s the only one you’ve ever been with. He still doesn’t really believe it, but there’s only one thing to do.

The two of you consult Miu to figure out what in the hell is going on.

“Miu! I never wanted to actually have sperm and be able to create life! Now our child is going to be born in such horrible conditions!”

“Well, be more fuckin’ clear next time, and wrap it up when you get your dick wet, why don’t you?!”

Looks on the bright side.

He was able to get you pregnant, something no other robot was able to do before! That’s a complete win!

You’re still stuck in this school, though, and this was no place to raise a child.

“Robots aren’t allowed to hurt humans, and I can’t risk you killing someone and losing the trial…”

He helps you the best that he can. He gives you any medicine that he can find, and he lets you use him as a heating pad.

Scans daily to see your state of health. Sometimes more than necessary…

“I just did this scan 5 minutes ago? Oh, I hadn’t noticed…”

Takes pictures of your stomach every day to monitor your growth.

Kokichi always makes fun of the two of you.

“Well, I guess that answers my question! Robots do have dicks! Hey S/O, was it all cold and metallic?”

“…that’s not funny.”

When it was revealed during the 6th Trial about Danganronpa, he was conflicted.

The voices in his head– the audience– told him all different things. He was tired, he just wanted to be free. He didn’t want your child to grow up in a world like this.

“S/O, if this continues, and the kid we created joins a future season, I’d never forgive myself. It’s time to end this. Please, when you see them, let them know their father loves them so.”

He sacrificed himself by blowing up the school. As he saw his friends and his significant other huddled beneath a rock, he grinned, knowing they were going to be okay.

Scoffs.

“Well, that’s just my luck that I would cause you to have to bring a new life into this horrible world.”

He’s honestly pretty upset over the whole thing for at least a couple days.

But then he realizes it; he can raise them to be better than he ever was or had a chance at being. He can teach them to do better.

This makes him happy, and he apologizes for being so stand-offish.

“Looks like… we’ve still got a ways to go.”

When the two of you lay down together, he always lays down in a way that his ear is directly pressed against you stomach.

He talks to the child a lot.

“Don’t worry, little one. We’ll get you and everyone else out of here and to safety. I love you so much.”

Truth be told, he’s a little scared that he’s a threat to the kid. After what happened in his past, what happened to his family, what happened to his lover…

You tell him to try to not think about it, and you know that he’s learned from the past.

The two of you only tell a couple people that you trust; namely, Shuichi and Kirumi. They’re both really happy for you!

Kirumi helps out a lot by getting you whatever you need for the day. She doesn’t get at all bothered by your morning sickness, and even offers to clean.

After the motive videos come out, Ryoma watches his and though he’s a little hurt, it doesn’t stop his determination to leave.

While she’s cleaning Ryoma’s room, Ryoma confides in her for advice.

“I feel like…I won’t be enough for our kid. Look at me now, I’m nothing more than an empty shell. I just… want to be enough for our family.”

SLAM!

Ryoma fell to the ground with a light thud, and that was the last anybody ever heard from him.

Crying out as you saw the piranhas tear away his flesh, you fainted on the spot.

You didn’t even have time to investigate, because the Class Trial had started.

You appreciated how seriously Kirumi was taking this trial. She kept making glances at you, but you assumed it was because she felt bad that your child would have to be without a father.

Until…

No, it couldn’t be. She’d gained your trust, only to betray you in the end? What kind of sick joke was this?!

As she was executed, you looked down at your stomach, rubbing it.

“Looks like we’ve still got a ways to go, kid…”

Wildly switching between happy, sad, and terrified.

On the one hand, he’s happy to be a father to your child. You were the love of his life, and he wanted to do his part and take care of the kid.

On the other hand, when you tell him the news, he paces back and forth, trying to find a way to get you to be as safe as possible. He already survived one killing game, how hard could it be to let the two of you be the last survivors again?

He asked Monokuma to see if you could have the easy way out.

“Monokuma, I know you probably want me to still participate, but my girlfriend, she’s pregnant now, so can you please just-”

“Puhuhuhu~! All applications made are final, buddy! It looks like we may just have another member in a short 9 months! Well, the more the merrier!”

Shit.

After that “lovely” conversation, Rantaro was more determined than ever to find a way out of the game.

He’d already lost his sisters, and he wouldn’t dream of losing you and the child too.

When the countdown motive for the first murder is introduced, he parts with you for just a few minutes, to record the videos that you and your other classmates would later find. He wanders in the library in order to do something, but he’s distracted when a shot put ball falls behind him. As he goes to pick it up, he’s struck in the back of the head.

Finding his body, you wanted to throw up, and not from morning sickness.

Nobody knew of your pregnancy yet, so nobody really knew how deep into despair you’d fallen.

Though, they still felt sorry for you, because it was obvious the two of you were together.

You didn’t feel right being angry at Kaede when she was revealed as the culprit, especially as she showed deep remorse.

“I didn’t mean it, S/O. I’m so sorry…”

Tears pricked your eyes as she was snatched back by the chains.

You forgive her.

Over the moon at first.

Yes, that’s a pun. Shut up, I know it’s bad.

This man is DANCING while he’s celebrating.

“WOO! I”M GONNA BE A FATHER!”

He’s loud enough that everyone knows within 10 minutes of you telling him.

Well.

When he has some alone time, he frowns to himself. He’s sick, What if he doesn’t live long enough to see their smiling face for the first time? Hear their first laugh?

These invasive thoughts clouded his mind, as he started to cough up blood.

“D-Damn it…”

Kaito decided not to tell you, not just because he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t want you to stress and possibly cause damage to the child.

He talks to your stomach everyday.

“What’s up, my little star!”

He’s extremely proud and isn’t afraid to show you off.

The more ill he gets, the more hope he has that you’ll be just fine. You have to be!

After he’s locked in the bathroom, he tries to find a way out. Any way out, he needed to make sure you were safe. Kokichi couldn’t keep him locked up forever!

When he and Kokichi make their deal, he does it in your interest.

“If Monokuma can’t solve the murder, I’ll finally get to walk out of here and start my family! Right?!”

But their plan failed. As you watched his execution, you screamed, pounding on the screen, begging Monokuma to let him go, please. You’d do anything! Soon, his coughing got worse, and he was soon on the ground, pink all around him. He’d died of his own accord.

You smiled happily at the bittersweet moment. He died of his own accord, no longer a part of Monokuma’s twisted game.

You knew he was above, watching you from the stars.

“Did you say you’re pregnant…? My, what an interesting turn of events!”

Did this man just say it was interesting?

You told him that this was serious, and that you needed to find a way out of here now.

“Keheehee... you don’t really think I’d let anything happen to you, do you? It’s clear Monokuma won’t let us go, even under these circumstances. Besides, I have my own kin developing inside your body, you need extra attention now!”

He will literally give you a tsunami of compliments everyday about how your body seems to be handling the pregnancy.

“S/O, your body is just so radiant today!”

Tells you stories about motherhood in other cultures.

Knows the best herbal remedies to calm symptoms such as headaches or nausea.

Nervous that you keep having to go to the bathroom, guides you there and back.

You really don’t know why he completely lost his shit by killing Angie and Tenko.

You convinced yourself that it was because of the oppressive student council, but why Tenko?

As he revealed his true self, you were horrified. He...was a serial killer?

The Korekiyo you came to love was a serial killer?

You were thrown into despair as you came to terms with his true colors. Nothing made sense anymore. Not only was your boyfriend and father of your first-born child dead, but he’d been batshit insane this entire time?

Maybe the next time you see red rope and hear a promise of “pleasure like you’ve never experienced”, you’ll politely decline.

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pyreo · 4 years ago

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deltarune megapost

I wanted to make a Deltarune post about the lore and the things that aren’t obvious. And once I do that I wanna focus on why Mettaton is incredibly important to this setting

And also why he poses a problem

Why did Toriel and Asgore get divorced?

Without the setting of Undertale, Asgore and Toriel’s marriage still broke up after they had Asriel. There needs to be a reason though. In UT it was Asgore’s ‘worst of both worlds’ decision regarding killing anybody that fell from the human world, including children. We saw how close they were before this happened. Only something deep and serious caused that rift. In Deltarune, what on earth did Asgore do?

What happened to Dess?

Mentioned a handful of times by Noelle, Dess was her older sister and is mentioned In Undertale.... in that Xbox exclusing casino thing. The way Noelle talks about her, the conspicuous way Noelle gets locked out of her big house - it implies Dess is gone or deceased. Berdly recalls a spelling bee when he and Noelle were younger where she, despite being smarter than him, misspelled ‘December’, allowing him to win.

In the two-player spelling puzzle, it also spells out ‘December’ as Noelle recalls the past and her silhouette regresses to a child while she does so. Being distracted by her sister’s disappearance, rather than pure shyness, could account for her misspelling her name on stage, and it clearly left a big psychological mark for her to have this visual regression in the Dark World.

However, there’s a graveyard in Hometown with no Dess. I heard another theory that she has been missing for years, because where each character’s personal room is made by Queen to reflect their tastes via their search results, Noelle has a calendar where every day is December 25th. This could imply that Noelle continually searches the internet for ‘December Holiday’, her sister’s name, to see if there are clues to her disappearance, but of course the only result you would get is the date of Christmas.

Who is the Knight?

It’s now implied to be Kris, who has been forcibly removing the player’s influence to act on their own. By all accounts the Knight is the game’s main antagonist. Spade King and Queen both mention the Knight as someone who influenced their position - they brought Spade King to absolute power, and showed Queen that creation of new worlds was possible.

We’re led to believe that Kris was doing this, because they’ve been acting outside of the player’s control. Eating the entire pie between chapter 1 and 2 might have been a red herring to cover that they also went to the library and used that knife to slash open a dark fountain there.

However. This has issues. How would they even manage to shuffle slowly all the way to the library and get in the computer lab? The Knight is also the one creating the hidden bosses. They talked to Jevil until he realised he was in a game and he lost his mind; they ruined Spamton’s life by elevating him to success and then crushing him. Whatever the Knight is doing seems to be deliberately planned with key players in mind.

Kris opening the fountain at home at the end of ch.2 can be explained in that you just figured out in Cyber World that anyone determined enough can do this, and so, Kris decided to. So a better question might even be...

What does Kris want?

We have no idea. They are capable of removing the SOUL, ‘us’, temporarily, and putting things in motion we cannot influence. But they also keep putting us back in control afterward. This is hinted at right when ch.2 starts, where if you inspect the cage in Kris’s bedroom they threw us into, the description says it’s inescapable. Meaning Kris came back and took us out, willingly.

They allow us to pilot them through the game. Why? Because they cannot live without the SOUL for long for some reason? Because they’re bad at bullet hell? Why did they slash Toriel’s tyres before opening the fountain, making sure nobody could drive away?? Why did they specifically open the door?

You can find out details about Kris through the creepy way you interact with the townsfolk, who think you are Kris. They play the piano at the hospital waiting room - better than you. They used to go to church just to get the special church juice. It’s all normal, relatable things, not like someone who’s trying to plunge the world into darkness. Judging by their search history portrayed in their Queen’s castle room, they really want to see their brother again. However the castle has a room based on Asriel’s search history too, and Kris (not you) closes their eyes and won’t look at it.

What is Ralsei?

His name is an anagram of Asriel. Is he an extension of Asriel? The slightly flirtier dialogue in ch.2 would point to no. Is he an extension of Kris themselves, given the link between Kris’s childhood habit of wearing a headband with red horns on it, to pretend to be a monster like their family?

Ralsei knows exactly where the Dark World in the school is located, and unlike regular Darkners, knows the world is folded up inside the ‘real world’. There’s a certain whiplash to Ralsei telling you to hop out of his reality into yours and go down the hallway to retrieve all the board game items.

How does he jump from one Dark World to another, without assistance? How does he not get petrified like Lancer and Rouxls? Is this a power level thing because he’s a prince or something else? We definitely do not know enough about Ralsei.

He also says this incredibly suspicious thing after you spare Spamton NEO. Susie was also curious but accepts that maybe it ‘didn’t mean anything’, which is a sure tell that these optional bosses do mean something.

Someone is orchestrating what’s happening, opening fountains, manipulating the rulers, and influencing NPCs to become the optional bosses. Why? I suspect Ralsei for both knowing too much, and pretending something doesn’t matter when it clearly does. Until Asriel actually comes home from college I’m going to suspect he’s involved in this too.

How much does Seam know?

Seam on the other hand knows a lot about what’s going on but is openly withholding information while helping you. He’s nihilistic. He says things like:

One day soon... You too, will begin to realize the futility of your actions. Ha ha ha... At that time, feel free to come back here. I'll make you tea... And we can toast... to the end of the world!

Either this ‘end of the world’ is a reference to The Roaring, where opening too many dark fountains dooms the Dark World and the real one... or, I can’t get out of my head the idea that Deltarune takes place in a fake, or weird reconstruction of Undertale where things don’t match up, and eventually it will have to disappear. After all, powers of determination and creating and manipulating universes are Undertale’s basic bread and butter. How can we look at an Alternate Universe containing the characters we already know and not suspect that? Seam also uses Gaster’s key words, ‘darker, yet darker’, seemingly to clue us in that he’s not off track here.

Why haven’t we seen Papyrus?

This is a bright neon flashing ‘something’s not right’ sign. It’s not like Papyrus’s voice actor was too busy or anything. His absence is noticable and for a reason. Nice of Sans to promise we could meet him despite being aware we’re piloting a child’s body around, though, even if he didn’t follow through.

What locations in town could be used for dark fountains in the next 4 chapters?

If the sequence continues, we have chapter 1 in the school games room, chapter 2 in a computer lab, and chapter 3 in front of Kris’s television, where the aesthetic of each setting influences the world, characters, and enemies in the Dark World created there. Future possibilities include the church, the hospital, sans’s grocery store, Noelle’s house, and the closed bunker.

What the hell’s in the closed bunker

This one’s too obvious, honestly. I think it’ll open for no reason in chapter 7 and a little white dog will bounce out and steal one of your key items and nothing else happens.

Why does Asgore have these

Unlike the bunker feeling like a joke teaser, I gotta believe this is foreshadowing something weird. For example, what does opening a dark fountain in here with the seven flowers do? Does it just take you into Undertale?

Each chapter will have a hidden boss with a ‘soul mode’ from Undertale

Chapter 1 let you stay red, but I think each subsequent chapter is going to change your soul mode to one of the seven colours and design the encounter around that. Purple, yellow, green and blue were used in Undertale, leaving the light blue and orange modes yet to be revealed.

How does Spamton emulate Mettaton Neo’s name, body, and incorporate his battle theme, and the ‘Dummy!’ theme, with no actual connection between them ingame?

This is a really fun one that’s explained over in this post here. Swatch is the Dark World creation from the paint program on the library computers, so he’s able to explain that a Lightner made the robot body decaying in the castle basement that way.

Mettaton went to the library and drew his ideal form, Mettaton NEO, in MS Paint, and the Dark World formed that into a puppet body which Spamton was able to hijack temporarily. So by doing that Spamton was able to channel Mettaton’s appearance, attacks, music, and SOUL mode for the fight.

This might mean that the future hidden bosses, each with their own SOUL mode, might be based on the associated character for that mode (Muffet, Undyne, and Sans or Papyrus), and the boss will take on some aspect of them from their world to leech their fight mechanics.

The Problem With Mettaton

We don’t exactly know what Deltarune is about. It’s an alternate universe where the characters from Undertale already live on the surface, have completely normal lives, but diverge from the storyline of Undertale and, crucially, have not lived through the changes Frisk brought to their lives.

Remember how Undertale had a dozen different ending routes depending on who you befriended? The constant reinforcement in Undertale was that your choices mattered. Through Frisk, you chose to bring Alphys closure about her mistakes, you chose to befriend papyrus instead of attacking him, you chose to help Alphys and Undyne realise their feelings for each other and it’s only doing that that leads to the golden ending and escape to the surface.

Deltarune is the opposite, your choices do not matter. The only thing you can do to force the route of the game to change is to force Noelle into a No Mercy run, which is indirect, and also, a total desperation to mess with an otherwise set course. This version of the characters have not been helped by Frisk - Undyne and Alphys are not together, Papyrus has no friends, Asgore cannot get over himself, and they’re clearly the worse for it, but potentially, you COULD still do these things. In fact it’s hinted that you already are.

But there’s Mettaton.

He’s still a ghost and does not leave his house. In Frisk’s world, Gaster deleted himself, promoting Alphys to royal scientist by bluffing with Mettaton, and she then build him his ideal body. In Kris’s world... Alphys is a school teacher. There’s no barrier to break, no reason to experiment on souls, no Flowey mistake, and no body for Mettaton.

It was sad in Ch.1, but now with the Spamton NEO fight in ch.2, it’s unmissable. Mettaton wants that body and he cannot get it. Alphys in this universe is not going to leave her teaching job and suddenly be able to build a robot. Mettaton is just... screwed out of his happy ending and cannot get it.

So what resolution could this have? If it wasn’t for Mettaton I might believe in the vaildity of Deltarune and Hometown. But. How can you doom this character? If Undertale was the only way Mettaton could be befriended, then Undertale is Primary Universe A and Seam is right - the world of Deltarune is doomed as some kind of aberration. It all relies on how this gets explained in the future, but the core mystery of Deltarune is how exactly this universe intersects with Undertale and whether one is an offshoot of the other. How the Dark World links into that is another complication. But even as we get more fun characters and neat stuff in the Dark Worlds, let’s not forget we have absolutely no idea why Undertale’s characters are living here with no mention of underground or why there are no other humans beside Kris.

#undertale #deltarune #welcome to my giant essay post

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mad-madam-m · 5 years ago

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Oh hey did you guys miss me rambling incoherently and ridiculously in-depth about TV shows? Because guess what I’m getting back on my bullshit again, this time with Gargoyles and this frigging episode holy shit.

(Under a cut because this got. uh. Long.)

This episode, The Price, centers pretty much entirely around Xanatos and Hudson, whom Xanatos has kidnapped in order to test the Cauldron of Life. This is really the first time in the series that we see Xanatos’s big goal: he wants to live forever, and he’s investing a lot of his considerable power and wealth in finding a way to do that.

He’s chosen Hudson as a guinea pig in particular for a number of reasons: Hudson is the oldest of the gargoyles, he mostly spends his time watching TV, and he’s not as strong of a fighter as the others. From Xanatos’s perspective, if using the cauldron goes according to plan, then he’ll have given Hudson a new lease on life. If it doesn’t, then eh, crappy result, but he really hasn’t deprived the gargoyle clan of anything. All the younger, stronger fighters are still there.

Xanatos is just old enough (40 during this episode, IIRC) that he’s very aware of his mortality, and he Does Not Like that. He’s got too many plans, and dying anytime ever sure as hell isn’t one of them. He assumes Hudson, being even older, feels similarly.

Now typically, Xanatos is pretty good at reading people. But he’s made a couple of assumptions about Hudson in particular that come back to really bite him in the ass, and assuming Hudson feels the way he does about mortality is probably the least of them.

Even discounting the thousand-year sleep, Hudson is still well over 100 at this point. He’s seen a lot, and he’s seen how long lives and immortality have affected others (notably Demona and Macbeth). Living forever holds no appeal for him because he finds the downsides to be worse than the alternative, a viewpoint Xanatos doesn’t understand.

But perhaps more importantly, Hudson does not react to things the way that Xanatos expects him to, i.e., the way Goliath would. Yes, Hudson was the clan leader for years before Goliath took over and they have the same morals, but they’re different personalities. Hudson is much more cunning, has been around long enough to understand the shades of grey in most humans, and he is very good at using that to get under Xanatos’s skin.

The back and forth between Xanatos and Hudson is easily the best part of the episode. Sure, Hudson’s the one in the cage, but you can tell he’s found the buttons to push to throw Xanatos off his game. Xanatos spends most of the episode visibly angry, which is unusual for him, and he even deliberately picks a fight with Owen, something he literally never does.

If Hudson were more like Goliath, he would be easier to ignore or dismiss. But Hudson isn’t like Goliath. He doesn’t preach; he asks questions. And those questions are extremely bothersome to Xanatos, probably because they force him to think, and he really doesn’t like the answers.

When it’s finally time to test the Cauldron of Life, Hudson escapes Xanatos’s gargoyle robot by stabbing him in the eye with a shard of his stone skin, and then easily overwhelms Xanatos and Owen. Xanatos is very impressed, as he usually is when someone subverts or exceeds his expectations, and his expectations of Hudson were not terribly high.

And then we get to the gifset at the top of the post, where he assumes Hudson will destroy the cauldron, because that’s what Goliath would do. And really, that’s what we’d all expect: that the hero would destroy the uber-powerful magical artifact.

But Hudson doesn’t.

He puts away his sword and straight-up says he won’t destroy it. To use it or not is Xanatos’s choice, and Hudson won’t make it for him. In the same vein, Hudson’s choice is to be left the hell alone.

He won’t make choices for Xanatos, but Xanatos sure as hell better not make choices for him, either.

And once again, Xanatos is impressed. Full of surprises, indeed.

Thus Hudson leaves, but not without one last question:

Again, he never tells Xanatos what he should think or what he should do. There’s no moralizing like Goliath would’ve done.

Hudson just. Asks. Questions. Questions that need to be asked, because you need to know if you can live with the answers.

And this is how Xanatos looks after Hudson leaves:

He’s angry. Angry at himself for underestimating this gargoyle, yes, but this is more than just anger that his plan got fucked up. Xanatos is pretty much always a “glass half full” kind of person when it comes to his plans getting fucked up.

But there’s not really a silver lining here. Not only has his plan gone awry, but he’s angry that Hudson is making him think about these things. What happens if he succeeds? What will his legacy be? What is he leaving behind? He’s considered the cost of mortality and deemed it too high a price to pay, but I don’t think at this point he’s really, truly considered what all the reverse would entail.

And he kind of hates that Hudson, of all the damn people in the world, is making him think about it.

But angry as he is, Xanatos still isn’t a sore loser:

He recognizes when he’s been bested. Sure, Xanatos could have him recaptured and keep his guinea pig, but that’s not really the way he works. He underestimated Hudson, and he’s got to deal with the consequences of that.

However, the other thing about Xanatos is that he rarely makes the same mistake twice. And he’ll certainly not make the mistake of underestimating Hudson again.

#Gargoyles #David Xanatos #Hudson #s2e15 #The Price #M rambles #M makes gifs #M writes meta #M watches Gargoyles #when I was at the beginning of this episode #painted said to me that Hudson was the best gargoyle to go up against Xanatos #and at the time I wasn't sure what she meant #but now #now I know #and now YOU know #good lord I hope there's more of them interacting later in the series

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citadelspires · 4 years ago

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since I’m more or less back in business I feel it’s past time I ramble about another au I will (probably) never write. I’ll start off simple with an amphibia owl house au I was thinking up last night at work. (slight disclaimer that I have not seen any of season 2 yet so this is with exclusively information through the end of season 1). Concept below the cut cause it’s a pretty extensive one.

The concept starts at the same point the owl house does, more or less. Camila is concerned, Luz is getting sent to summer camp etc. etc. This time she gets distracted by an unusually pink frog hopping into the woods, and decides she probably has time to go chase after it. So she follows it into the woods until she suddenly trips over something and falls to the ground, turning around she sees it to be a music box sticking out of the forest floor. Curious, she digs it up and starts examining it. She thinks it’s really pretty and she’s about to open it when she hears voices coming from nearby and goes to check it out.

She finds Willow and Amity in a small clearing, think essentially the scene in the actual owl house where she sees them for the first time, except here they’re both human, though Luz doesn’t know them because they both go to some pretentious private school, Amity because she’s a Blight so she had to, and Willow because she got a scholarship for it and didn’t have the heart to tell her dads she didn’t really want to go. The scene plays out in a similar fashion to how it does in the actual show, with the exception that this time without the magic element Luz doesn’t feel the need to keep hiding and instead marches up from her hiding place to chew out Amity for being a jerk. Unfortunately she stumbles on a tree root as she approaches and, still holding the music box, accidentally pops the lid open.

So that’s how the three of them get transported to Amphibia. I like the idea of taking the setup and world of Amphibia, which we’ve seen through the lens of the characters that got transported all being close “friends”, and coming at it from a different perspective, i.e. one of them is a complete stranger to the other two and the two that do know eachother are already not on very good terms going in. (Amity and Willow have essentially the same history in the au that they do in toh).

Luz is dropped right in the middle of Newtopia, and while she’s very excited about the prospect of a fantasy adventure, she’s also pretty worried that she has no idea how to get back home, and she doesn’t take to the city as well as Marcy did. Part of this is due to her having her doubts about the ruler of Amphibia, who in this case is not Andrias, but Lilith(I understand Belos is probably a more fitting character for the role but I just don’t know enough of his character or really care about him enough to implement him, so Lilith it is! She’s more interesting for the setup anyway, depending on what Andrias’ weird master thing ends up being, maybe that would be a belos type deal but honestly I’d probably just not implement that part into this. If you can’t tell this is much less a “amphibia but with the owl house cast” and more of a actual approach to writing something new with the old setting and characters).

This is mostly due to the fact that, while wondering around the city attracting suspicious stares from newts that have never seen someone like her before, she ends up bumping into a newt who appears to be running from the majority of the city guards. They both fall down and Luz helps her stand up, a showing that is enough to convince the guards that, whatever the weird creature is, it’s in league with the felon, so they begin chasing her too. The criminal newt, who is of course Eda, takes pity on her and brings her along to her hideout, where she meets a weird little robot that insists she refer to him as King. He begins to declare that his full title is “King of...” and then kinda falters off as he seems to realize he actually isn’t quite sure what he is. Luz gives Eda a concerned Look but she just kinda shrugs it off and says he always does that.

Luz finds out that Eda deals in the trade of questionable artifacts and considers herself pretty lucky to find someone like that as soon as she did, and she asks if Eda knows anything about a music box, describing it as best as she can, because she didn’t really think to take any pictures. For her part, Eda is pretty sure what it is, and that’s the moment where she resolves to watch over Luz, at first just because she’s Concerned the box is back in Amphibia, though it eventually ends up that she gets a soft spot for the kid.

Though Luz doesn’t find out a good deal of this until later, and it’s gradually, Eda is still Lilith’s sister here, meaning that yes, she had equal claim to the newtopian crown, but the history of the crown never sat well with her (i.e. she finds out newtopia was built on the foundation of bloody conquest, along with the fact that it’s encouraged they want to get back to that point and nopes out of there). While she’s on her way out she starts off her new life of stealing shiny things by grabbing a weird little statue that had always seemed kinda off to her. She figures she could sell it at least, but while looking over it after escaping she realizes that it isn’t a statue at all, but what she decides must have been a defective robot from newtopia’s past, being much smaller and more... expressive? Than it should have been. For some reason she decided to try fixing it, and though it took a good deal of time she eventually got it to work again, which is how she came to be friends with King.

Luz’ story is largely slice of life relationship building with her, Luz, and King, until the point where the path to the valley opens, and the three of them go on what Luz finds out is an annual trip Eda takes around the valley to see if she can find anything interesting to add to her stand, as well as find new customers in the valley. Luz figures if she has a shot at finding either of the two girls she came with, and hopefully the box too, it would be on that trip.

Willow gets thrown into Toad Tower before she even realizes what’s happening to her. She has no idea where she is, didn’t even get a good look at Luz before the teleportation happened back on earth, and is overall not having a great time. She’s not convinced she’s not dreaming until she’s literally tossed into her cell and the impact hurts enough that she’s sure she’s really there. At first she believes she’s alone in her cell until she hears an awe-filled voice ask what she is and why she’s there. She isn’t able to figure out where the voice is coming from until a tiny blue frog jumps up on her hand. She introduces herself as a human, which gets him very excited, and he introduces himself as Gus, explaining that he was thrown in prison for “almost kind of knowing things he shouldn’t” as he put it.

It turns out Gus is something of a scholar, though he admits that most frogs are more inclined to call him a crazed conspiracy theorist. All of his studies have to do with mysterious other worlds and their inhabitants, which he has always been stubbornly insistent do exist. He’s overjoyed that he finally has “a real life specimen!!” and Willow is excited enough at the idea that there might be someone who actually knows what happened to her that she lets that comment slide. She quickly finds out what the meaning behind his weird prison sentence is, as she brings up getting sent to this world from another, and he attempts for a wise nod as he goes “ah yes, you must have experience an encounter with the calamity bucket.” Still he’s kind of helpful and he and Willow get along pretty well, so they end up hanging out together for the rest of the story, he basically tags along everywhere with her Jiminy Cricket style.

Amity has arguably the hardest time adjusting to the world she suddenly finds herself in, as she ends up in the forest on the outskirts of Wartwood, and promptly determines that this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to her. Despite having the box that “weird girl” used to send them here, opening it and closing it over again provided no help at all, and trying to go into Wartwood provided even less. Still being in Full Blight mindset she is really haughty and superior and the townspeople do not take it well. Even deducing Toadstool as the only persons superficial enough to potentially care about her status, she can’t get anything out of him cause he views her as a massive publicity risk, which he’s already not doing super well at.

The only frogs in the village that seem to not turn away from her immediately are a mischievous pair of frog twins that joke around and mess with her, and though it’s all lighthearted she’s stubborn enough at first that when they do offer to help her out she flat out refuses them. Eventually between living in a cave and their hanging around her whenever she’s in town anyway she’s worn down enough that she begrudgingly accepts their offer of help.

Not being Blights in this au has done a good deal in the way of making Edric and Emira happier. While they’re just as much of tricksters as they always are, and they occasionally overstep a little in their jests, they’re quick to apologize, and lack any of the actual malice behind their knack for causing trouble. The two of them run one of the stands in the marketplace, something they get Amity to help out with eventually as the town warms up to her. The two of them find it easier to grow closer to Amity than the rest of the town does, maybe it’s cause they’re the only ones who have really tried, or maybe it’s cause they’ve got a reputation for being trouble in the town already anyway. Whatever it is Amity gets begrudgingly closer to them until she eventually refers to them as her siblings once, and though they refuse to let her hear the end of it for a few days, they’d been calling her their little sister since the beginning, and while Amity had been certain for a long time they were just doing it to mess with her she starts to like it eventually.

Like in Amphibia, the three girls all represent one aspect of the Heart, Strength, Mind trio. Figuring out what those all are takes a lot more for these girls than it does for the amphibia trio though. The focus of this story is less on the relationships the characters have, though that is definitely a part of it, and more on the attributes their assigned to and the personal growth they have. Each of them holds the attribute that is both their strongest and most repressed. The three all hold themselves at very little value in the areas they’re actually the strongest in, and through their journey in Amphibia they start to learn.

Willow had always believed that strength was an inherently negative thing. Strength equated to power, and people who had power used it to hurt others, without fail. People like, well, Amity. She prefers gentleness and peace, and to her that and strength is mutually exclusive. She reacts to the concept that she could be charging the box with the attribute of strength very negatively.

Through her time in Amphibia she gets to learn that her strength can come in different forms, and while she is undeniably strong physically, her physical strength is nothing compared to her emotional resolve and capacity to extend that emotional resolve in the strength of heart to pick up the people around her when they need it. She does, though, get to learn that power isn’t something that is inherently evil, and even that if she uses the strength she has to protect the things that are important to her, that doesn’t mean she’s forsaken any of the things believes.

aka she gets to punch a heron in the face. Boscha (captain of toad tower) is very impressed, though she pretends she isn’t. Speaking of Boscha, she gets to experience a similar development to Willow, but more on the reverse side of the coin. Having always been powerful, and that having always been enough to make her more important than everyone else, Willow strikes her as weak at first, given her lack of aggression. The longer she stays stuck with Willow though, the more she comes to realize some important things, foremost among them being that Willow could totally kick her ass, and just chooses not to, which isn’t something Boscha understands at all, and Willow ends up teaching her how to be more of a person than a weapon, even just leading by example.

Much to Willow’s complete disbelief, (she swears to Luz the box is broken and they’re doomed), Amity is the heart. Amity doesn’t really believe it either. Strength would’ve been Okay, but personally she would’ve picked the attribute of intelligence for her. It was like the box went through all the effort of looking into their souls and didn’t even bother to check her report card. Ludicrous. It doesn’t help her that her time in wartwood is miserable for a good deal of the start. For the first time in her life Amity isn’t perfect, and it’s all because there’s nothing to be perfect at in this stupid little town. She should have all the frogs praising her superiority, but literally None Of Them are impressed by her in the slightest. They didn’t even have a school!

The only thing Amity took to quickly in Wartwood was the town motto, resolving that she would be even slower to respect the citizens of Wartwood than they would her. This started off a bit of a rivalry between her and the town, but the longer she had the horrible influence of her parents replaced by the well meaning nagging from her frog siblings, and the more time she spent not being perfect because for once in her life she literally couldn’t be, she started to think it wasn’t so bad after all, and the little rivalry between her and the town became much less of a real one, and a lot more of the friendly banter type, though she couldn’t recall ever making a concious choice to do so it just sorta... happened.

Eventually she starts to think about the school she was initially so annoyed didn’t exist, and begins to wonder if really no one is gonna do anything about it being in ruins. Eventually, she starts going over to the ruined building and reading to whatever kids in wartwood were in the mood to listen. before she knew it she had built up the closest thing to a school Wartwood had in a while, and where she once would have felt a smug pride, she only felt a casual happiness that was new to her, but not entirely unpleasant.

Luz never would have considered herself good at any of the three options. She knows she’s not strong so that’s out. All the kids at school think she’s weird and she has no friends so she really doesn’t think the whole “heart” thing works in any capacity. But the only thing left besides that would be intelligence, and she’s had enough students and teachers alike call her out for being an idiot that she’s absolutely confident that isn’t it. It doesn’t help that since she’s with Eda, who actually knows what the box is, she ends up worrying over what she’s supposed to be from the very start. She spends a lot of the time before the valley opens up thinking the box made a mistake, and since she didn’t have any of the attributes it wanted it wouldn’t work again at all.

In the end she only finds out what she’s supposed to be through process of elimination. Knowing Willow is strength and Amity is heart she finally comes to the realization that she’s supposed to be intelligence, and her confidence crumbles. Of all the options that’s the one she’d been hoping it wouldn’t be the most. How could so many people be wrong after all? It was pretty unanimous back home that she didn’t really have much going on upstairs, and after hearing it enough time she had gotten around to believing it. Her path in the story largely focuses on coming to terms with her own worth, despite her insecurities and the weight of everything she’s ever heard to the contrary constantly on her mind.

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