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primus-why · 9 months

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Okay okay just a real quick: MegOp Bodyguard Affair within an Arranged Marriage AU???

Imagine Orion Pax is very very very distantly related to one of the lineages of the Primes, and though he goes about his life practically a mid-caste, the fact remains that he is technically considered high-caste.

He maintains a job as an Archivist, living out a modest, unassuming life, and generally doesn't care for the pomp and circumstance of high-caste affairs. The flashiness just isn't in his nature, and there is something he can't quite place his digit on when he attended those soirees-- something unsettling and almost invisible.

The key word here being almost. He is not ignorant to the way higher-castes handle their lower-caste staff-- in his youth he'd overheard his fair share of unjust punishments over minuscule offenses or listened to someone brag about withholding payment as a means to pinch a few credits. Though Orion doesn't exist in that sphere any more, he can't shake the sense that things have just gotten worse. His friend Jazz is an upper mid-caste who has a knack for keeping an audial to the ground thanks to his security work, and has told him many times there is a growing unrest all over Cybertron-- that it's only a matter of time before it bursts into something ugly.

Orion already sees ugliness; as the slum areas continue to expand, as mechs and their homes fall into disrepair, the Senate and Council of Primes don't appear to care at all about the wellbeing of Cybertronian citizens. He sees what Jazz is referring to-- there is a looming darkness, and their people are disconnected. But what can Orion, a mere data clerk, possibly do about it?

He does what he's best at: cataloging whatever data he can find to educate himself of the stories he cannot see or fathom.

Through his research he discovered some of the gruesome ways mechs in castes below him have been treated, but even then he knew his findings were only scratching the surface. He wanted to learn more-- to speak with others who had direct experiences. He first began with Ratchet, a dear friend who was also high-caste, who used his vast medical knowledge to attend to anyone who came to him. In fact, Ratchet purposefully divides his time between high-caste hospitals and a clinic he created in Rodion in order to give lower-castes access to his skill. The lack of opportunities for maintenance and even basic medical care horrified Orion, and it only urged him to look deeper.

That was how he had eventually discovered the forums-- large, categorized, virtual assemblies of mechs from all walks of life, interacting anonymously under pseudonyms. He absorbed as much as he could-- even the uglier sides he couldn't stomach on the first read. It felt important that he saw these things, as it confirmed his suspicions that the high-castes who operated the Senate were willfully allowing people to suffer for their own benefit and comfort.

In time, he learned of the works of Megatronus-- a gladiator who fought in the Pits of Kaon, but who was also an impressive orator and author. He would publish transcribed speeches and essays under a pseudonym, though Orion quickly learned the mech's true identity from others who followed his work. His words spoke plainly of the inequalities and injustices present in society, shedding light on the lives of unnamed Disposables, and wove a dream of a world without a caste system, without Functionism. In short, it was revolutionary, and captured Orion so intensely that he became uncharacteristically emboldened one cycle and sent Megatronus a direct message.

Of course, while Orion had already been chatting with a few mechs here and there to learn of their accounts, something about reaching out to Megatronus felt... different. A much bigger step. Perhaps it was because he was something of a celebrity, being a public figure in the blood sport he championed as well as being a talented writer. Orion was nervous and excited all at once-- though he reminded himself he really ought not to be, seeing as Megatronus would be understandably far too busy to even read his message... surely he gets hundreds of those a cycle...

But then something miraculous happened-- Megatronus actually responded!!!

And thus began their fervent exchange of ideas. Megatronus was as captivating as Orion had suspected-- an enlightening philosopher wrapped within the charms of his quick wit and forward nature. Eventually-- though they had never even seen each other-- a deep mutual friendship bloomed, and Orion longed to visit Megatronus in Kaon... to meet and hear him speak in person...

(He longed for other things as well, but dare not voice them aloud for he knew how outlandish it was to want them. Orion knew he could not monopolize Megatronus' time in the selfish way he would like-- not when he was so important to the revolutionary movement he had started...)

However, everything changed when Orion's cousin Sentinel was named a Prime.

There hadn't been a new Prime in ages. Zeta and Vector had been serving for many vorns, while Alpha Trion came well before them and was by far the oldest; Sentinel would likely be replacing him on their Council of Primes. This, Orion knew, would be devastating news to Megatronus-- he knew the gladiator had hoped to one day ascend to the title of Prime as demonstration of overcoming the oppression of the caste system. Now, it seemed they would have to wait even longer for the next rare chance of a new Prime being named.

Secondary to all that, Orion was facing his own personal troubles. He, who was content to live an unassuming life, had been thrust into the spotlight for having an even closer lineage to the Primes. Now he had strangers sending him gifts, even showing up at his place of work, vying for his good graces so he might put in a word to Sentinel on their behalf. Or worse, they attempted to seduce him in a blatant attempt to ascend the social ladder through a conjux bond. It all made Orion deeply uncomfortable, and he thanked Alpha Trion profusely for letting him use a private workstation at the Archives, otherwise he would have lost his mind (or his temper.)

For folks desperate to recieve acknowledgment from the new Prime to boost their social standing, they were shockingly naive about Orion's relationship to Sentinel. They had been estranged for over half his function by now, in part because they existed in different circles, but also because Orion could hardly stand the mech. Sentinel had been pompous and cocky as a sparkling, and unfortunately it was a not a phase he grew out of. He was, quite frankly, a classic example of the type of leader people were growing to despise-- an arrogant and over-polished politician who made decisions to only benefit himself and crush the rest beneath his pedes.

That train of thought led him back to Megatronus; Orion hadn't heard from him in a while. At first he had been terrified that his dear friend had finally been overtaken in the Pit, killed by his fellow mech or by some massive beast stolen from a foreign planet. But after scanning the Kaon news for joors, he found no recounting of such an event-- surely the champion's defeat would have made a headline? Orion concluded he must be held up by something, and so after not receiving a response for quite some time, he ventured to ask another gladiator who worked closely with Megatronus-- Soundwave. He knew the silent mech didn't like to be bothered, but he had hoped to convey his concerns well enough that he could be forgiven just this once.

Orion: Hello, Soundwave. I am sorry to disturb you with the same question I'm sure countless others have been wondering, but do you know where Megatronus is?

Soundwave: ... Affirmative. Many have wondered. However, Orion Pax first to ask.

Orion: Oh! I would have assumed your inbox would be flooded by inquiries to his whereabouts...

Soundwave: Others afraid to ask.

Orion: ... Afraid to ask you or afraid to ask what has become of him? Did something bad happen?? Is he alright???

Soundwave: ... Inconclusive. Not good, not bad. Confirmed: Megatronus is unharmed.

Orion: That is such a relief to hear!! In that case, may I inquire further as to what situation prevents him from communicating? That is to say, I noticed he hasn't been posting to the forums as of late...

Soundwave: ... Megatronus: loaned to high-caste buyer. Unable to establish contact until further notice. Contract duration: one stellar cycle. Megatronus: will post as soon as able.

Orion: Oh... is that a common situation you find yourselves in?

Soundwave: Uncommon, but not rare.

Orion: I see... thank you for taking the time to speak with me, Soundwave. It was most illuminating. In the meantime, I will endeavor to be patient a while longer for Megatronus' return to the forums. Farewell for now, and please stay safe.

Soundwave abruptly exited their chat without a departing remark, not that Orion expected him to do anything else.

It had been hard as of late to see his friends in Iacon with all the new attention he had been attracting. Now, without even his dear online companion to talk to, Orion felt a bit isolated... lonely, even. But he knew the buzz around Sentinel's Primacy ceremony would die down eventually, so all he had to do was persevere.

Still, as much as he enjoyed the company of mechs like Ratchet and Jazz over a com channel, there was something about those text-based messages between himself and Megatronus that he craved. The gladiator provided intellectual stimulation that he found in no one else, and it was intoxicating...

Unfortunately the universe decided it would not let Orion Pax stew in isolation for long. No, it had other plans... which involved Sentinel suddenly deciding to send for him, so that they might meet at his grand estate and "become reacquainted".

Upon arriving, Orion was not impressed by the splendor as he now saw it as a terrible waste. He politely listened to all the history the estate manager waxed on about as they pointed to various highlights during their tour, even asking thoughtful questions along the way (which they seemed to appreciate.) Still, all he could think of is what these resources might've been able to do for literally anyone else on the planet aside from boosting his cousin's vanity.

Finally he is led to meet Sentinel in one of the drawing rooms. He greets Orion uncharacteristically warmly at first, throwing Orion off for a moment. But in a klik, Sentinel's facade slips away and he is back to his petty, backhanded remarks-- now there's the Sentinel Orion remembered.

As it turns out, Sentinel has pawned him off to be bonded to a Senator who was tantamount in securing the Prime seat for him. Orion is outraged!! How dare he make such a promise without consulting him!?!

"I refuse." Orion said, his voice cold, "The Senator may certainly try to court me, and I will honestly take their attempt into consideration-- as a courtesy to your arrangement-- but I will make no promise to be bonded by the end of it." Orion hoped the concession to at least let the mech have a fair go at courting would be enough.

But Sentinel just laughed-- laughed.

"Oh! You think you have a choice! Ha ha ha!" He wiped away some stray coolant from his optic before resetting his vocalizer, "As you may recall, tomorrow I will be named Prime. And as the highest living member of our lineage, I will oversee all of our clan's affairs. I suggest you learn your place this cycle, Orion... I may not be so forgiving henceforth."

"I don't care what you have to say on the matter, today or otherwise." Orion said, turning to leave, "I refuse to be a pawn in this game. Pick another estranged family member to entertain you, I'm going home."

"Oh, poor Orion. Didn't I mention? You are home."

"I... what?"

"I took the liberty of gathering all your things and relocated them here," Sentinel said with a dismissive wave, as though upending his entire life was as easy as ordering fuel, "and I've asked Alpha Trion place you on sabbatical from the Archives, starting immediately."

"Wh-- why?! When?!?"

"Shortly after my chauffeur picked you up." Sentinel regarded him smugly from over a shoulder pauldron, "I couldn't allow your betrothed to be seen visiting that hovel you called a home, so I graciously offered to house you until the conjux ritus was complete."

'This can't be happening.' Orion was too stunned to speak, panic creeping up as the reality of his situation sunk in. 'My job, my friends, my home... this is archaic!'

"The courting and subsequent ritus is expected to take approximately a stellar cycle," Sentinel continued, glancing at his digits and looking rather bored, "hence your sabbatical. And after that you will move into your bonded's estate. From there, I don't care what you do."

A knock on the door interrupted Sentinel's servo grooming and Orion's mental spiral. The estate manager had returned with a large silver mech following close behind, saying something about fuel being ready for them in another parlour.

"Ah! Excellent timing." Sentinel clapped his servos and turned to Orion. "Care to join me for a snack?"

Orion said nothing, still trying to calm his racing processor.

"No?" Sentinel began to approach him. "We could toast to a new chapter in our functions!"

Finally no longer on the verge of a glitch, Orion turned his helm away, deliberately not looking at Sentinel.

"No, thank you," he said sullenly, "My tanks are satisfactory."

Suddenly Sentinel cupped his chin with one servo and yanked so that their optics met.

"Are you sure? I am a very busy mech, and I might otherwise forget to feed you later." He leaned in even closer, "It would be unwise to make a habit of spurning my generosity, as I alone have the power to make your stay here more... comfortable."

"I will survive." Said Orion-- gaze firm and unwavering, a cold fire in his optics.

'I will survive this... I will survive you.'

Sentinel released him with a sneer and marched over to the door. "Come!" he barked at the silver mech, causing the estate manager to jolt. However the larger mech hardly stirred, save to plod towards the spot Sentinel had gestured to. Orion noticed his helm was bowed, red optics casts towards the floor... which meant he was almost certainly a low-caste and had to show deference to the higher-castes around him. The sight made Orion's spark twist.

Despite the submissive posture, the silver mech was large and imposing; he even had to duck and turn slightly to fit his helm and broad, spiked shoulders through the doorframe. When he was able to stand at his full height, Orion could see he wore a carefully blank expression. 'Reticence is a common self-preservation tactic for mechs in his position... I can plainly see why.'

"Meet your new bodyguard, Orion Pax!" Sentinel clapped the silver mech on the shoulder with vicious glee as red optics widened minutely before returning to their previous setting. "He'll be here to keep an optic on you at all times while you're being courted."

'Not so much for my safety as he is to deter me from running away, no doubt.' Orion speculated. Nothing he holds against the big mech personally, he knows it's just his job. Still, his presence will complicate any of Orion's future plans...

Sentinel started to walk away then, but seemed to think of something else. "Ah-- despite his frame size, he should blend into your periphery. You'll hardly notice he's there. But do let me or my estate manager know if he gets to be too chatty."

And with that, Sentinel and the estate manager finally left him alone with his new keeper. Orion let out a long, shaky sigh. He knew Sentinel could have a cruel and ruthless streak, but this was beyond the pale. 'Primus below, I shudder to imagine how will he act once he actually is a Prime...'

Shaking those disturbing thoughts for now he turned towards the other mech in the room, only to be met with red optics flicking up to look right at him. The silver mech's helm was still downcast, so it was difficult to see his expression, but Orion surmised he must be feeling wary of his new charge.

'Well, that won't do.' Orion gathered himself and strode over to make introductions.

"Hello. My designation is Orion Pax." As he spoke the silver mech's helm began to slowly rise, red optics still glued him. "Despite what Sentinel implied, I'd much prefer you speak as often as you'd like... at least in my company. It seems we will be spending a lot of time together, and it would be a shame to spend its entirety in silence."

He held out his servo as an offered greeting. Eventually, after a brief hesitation, the looming silver mech reached out with his own (clawed?!) servo and shook it, being even more gentle than Orion thought possible.

"... Orion Pax." The mech ventured, looking him up and down. "Would you happen to be from Iacon?"

'Oh my,' thought Orion, feeling his faceplates heat up a bit, 'I could certainly get used to hearing his voice...'

"Ah, yes! I am!" Orion said a bit too bright, which only increased his blush, "I work as an Archivist, doing anything clerical, really. My focus is generally on the origins and development of Cybertronian cultures and societies. Recently I've been reading more about philosophy, and how it's shaped-- Oh!" Orion's train of thought came to screeching halt. He was being rude!

"Please forgive me, but I have not even asked you for your designation! And Sentinel made no mention of it before... who might you be, my keeper? Are you part of the estate's sentry?"

The silver mech gave a low chuckle, visibly more relaxed than he had been earlier. The sound sent a tingle down Orion's struts.

"Only temporarily. I am a gladiator-- plucked fresh from the Pits to be your humble guardsmech." The mech grinned and did a mock bow. Orion was utterly charmed... but wait!

"... Do you by chance know the Champion of Kaon?" 'Could it be...?'

Another rumbling chuckle, and Orion found himself hanging on every word.

"I am the Champion, little Archivist. My designation is Megatronus."

#megop #fic pitch #fuzz writes #once again i say something is gonna be quick and then it's NOT #lmao!#long post

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wongyuuu · 8 months

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Hiii. Request for a drabble of when you get that call from one of the members about Cheol being rushed to the hospital for his torn ACL? And then whatever happens after is up to you xx

hope you like it!

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff word count: 847 warning: mentions of injury, really bad jokes

a/n: this was not proofread

requests are open

Bitting your nails was a habit that you had long left in the past, back when you were still a teenager. You clearly remember the moment you decided you’d stop, just because one of your friends had long beautiful nails, and you wanted that too. However, it still came to you occasionally, when your nerves were out of control. There was also the shaking legs.

You had gotten a call from Joshua, no more than ten minutes before.

“Hey, Shua” you answered the phone brightly, walking to the hallway and away from your friends’ shatter.

Until that moment there was nothing wrong, no problem in sight. Seungcheol was out for the weekend with his friends, sort of like a camping trip. And you were with yours. It was something that you did often. Joshua’s call also wasn't surprising.

“y/n?” it was the way he said your name that made a chill run down your spine.

Joshua was the kind to always be bright, even when situations were complicated. You had never heard his voice like that, so serious.

“What happened?” you were already on your way to the door, slipping your feet inside the worn-out sneakers and wrapping the scarf around your neck

“We had to bring Cheol to the hospital, we’re at the ER right now”

You closed your eyes for a second, wishing that you had heard him wrong. If there was one thing you learned in your three-year relationship with Seungcheol was that the man avoided hospitals as if it was a sport and he was an Olympic champion at it.

“How bad is it?”

You ran down the stairs. It was only four storeys and you didn’t dare to risk losing signal and had the call disconnect.

“Don’t run” Joshua scolded you “He’s already pissed that I called you. I don’t want to think about what he’ll do if you get hurt”

You closed your eyes and stopped once you reached the second floor.

“Joshua, how bad is it?”

“He needs surgery, in a few weeks. He tore his ACL”

You nodded, even though Joshua couldn’t really see you. You didn’t know what it meant, how bad the injury really was but Joshua’s tone told everything you needed to know. It was bad, probably worse than what you could imagine.

When you got to the hospital, Seungcheol, Joshua, and Jeonghan were already waiting for you at the parking lot. He smiled at you as he tried to stand up straight with the clutches under his arms. Although he was smiling, you knew that he was trying to put up the image that he was fine to his friends but the truth was there in his eyes.

“Hi baby,” you said, kissing his cheek quickly and pushing away the hair from his forehead “How are you feeling?”

Seungcheol just shook his head, quickly dropping a peck on your lips and limping to the car. You took his backpack from Joshua’s hand, mouthing thank you to the two of them as you rushed after your boyfriend.

“I’m fine,” Seungcheol said when you took the clutches from his hand so he could climb into the passenger seat “You don’t have to worry”

You smiled at him, kissing his lips again — this time for a little longer.

“I know” you whispered “It’s going to be fine, but maybe you should get a tattoo this knee on the one that’s hurt and the other one on the good one. Just to make sure they don’t touch the wrong one”

Seungcheol shook his head, trying to suppress a smile while shaking his head.

“Too soon? I’ve got worse ones if you want”

“The joke was really bad,” he said with a pout, leaning against the seat “but I’ll take another one”

You pressed your lips together, pretending to be in deep thought, causing a small laugh to leave his lips — it was exactly what you wanted.

“Maybe we could chop it off, and have my dad make you a new one” you held his hand shaking it from side to side “Oh, oh, oh, if my dad makes you a new foot he’ll add fingers and then I’ll finally be able to paint your toenails”

He narrowed his eyes at you and a second later started to laugh.

“If I promise to let you paint my nails, will you keep your dad away from my leg” you nodded excitedly and raised your hand, sticking your pinky out “You want me to pinky promise? You don’t trust me at all”

Seungcheol did his best to sound offended, but the truth was that he was just having too much fun, the injury momentarily forgotten.

“Not on this, you said five times already, yes I counted it, that you would let me paint your nails and you always get back on your word”

You wiggled your hand, waiting for him to take your finger into his.

“Thank you for this” he said quietly, the look in his eyes full of love, as he finally raised his pinky too “Love you”

taglist: @wonwooz1, @ryuwonieebae

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wisteriainslumber · 6 months

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"Get me out of here!"

aka the twst girlies surviving an escape room in honour of me being the most unhelpful person in escape rooms

warnings: swearing and book 6 spoilers in regards to ortho

first years

has the highest possibility of succeeding

it sure wouldn't look like it though

in the middle of their allotted hour, they suggested to sacrifice grim

which yuu stopped by distracting them with a loooooong story of how they are a long lost octuplet

legit no one knows if yuu is being FR or not bc it sounds so unbelievable but their facial expressions suggest they're being so deadass abt it

unanimous decision to push ace into the coffin and started holding hands and chanting

low and behold, the weight in the coffin triggered a mechanism and they accidentally solved the puzzle into the next room

here's another example, where there was a bunch of clocks on the wall w/ different times and epel joked that it looks like the heartslabyul dorm (bc of the million staircases)

and while deuce and ace were telling stories about the amount of freshmen that fell off those staircases (rip), jack stared a lil harder and figured out a password for a lock that way

the first thought that occurs is to pick the locks

they got the shit scared out of them from the game master's voice in the walkie talkie telling them to solve it properly bc dude... don't do that??/

ortho detects hidden walls and rooms before the game even starts but he doesnt speak of them

he'll always be hovering around them though and stares directly into the security cameras

sebek is so stressed bc this space is so small and so hot. AND HES GONNA BE STUCK HERE FOR AN HOUR

jack is infected by the stress radiating off sebek for the same reasons but also bc he can hear jamil and riddle going awfff on their group in the other room and it is really freaking distracting

ortho picks up the most useless, disconnected keyboard and started carrying it around for funsies (its like so outdated and he wants to show it to idia to laugh at it) before the walkie-talkie kindly asked them to put it back because it's not a clue

epels mind is in the right place, trying to find patterns in the titles of the bookshelf, but they're really just there for decoration

grim's floor sniffing habit comes in so handy rn bc he's finding things under beds and in drawers

there is a piano in their room and aside from grim stomping on the keys, epel played hot cross buns, thinking he was the only one who knew how to play, then yuu, our champion, comes in playing some classical backing music

it shocked sebek so much that yuu was practically a music god, then asked them to play some mozart, and again, got the piss scared out of them

a loud thunk and bam, accidentally unlocked another hidden room

ace and deuce were in a competition of who could find the hints the fastest and tragically they were the two that didn't find any hints at all

in short, it was sheer dumb luck that got them out

8/10, if only it wasn't for sebek breaking down near the end of the hour because he got his hand stuck in a box and started panicking

because they were the first to finish, they were allowed to look at how the second and third years were doing and damn, they had such a big laugh about it

aka it turned into a dorm thing

second years

there are many brilliant minds in this group which would make them a very good contender for getting out

unfortunately they are smart individually but extremely dumb when together

they started handcuffed to each other and surprisingly no one really minds it

like, it's not maaaajorly distracting like they can get things done without too much struggle

and silver insists that its good to have a buddy system in case they get lost, you know, inside a very unspacious room

only downside is that sometime there will be some squabbles about someone yanking too hard but overall they're very peaceful

ruggie will be carrying all the random objects they manage to uncover in case they're needed (aka azul keeps passing over random objects for ruggie to hold— he thinks that they are clues)

mostly because kalim was supposed to, but he left them all over the place and forgot about them while trying to solve puzzles

jade, his handcuff buddy, is seeing all this happen but does he grab the misplaced items? no lmao

instead kalim's the button pusher bc he wants to be useful but sometimes he presses the wrong buttons because its so dARK, WHY IS IT SO DARK???

jamil gets so pissy that u practically couldn't see shit, so he climbed on floyd's shoulders to go fix the fucking lights

floyd complained a lot because jamil's constant reaching felt like he was personally trying to tear his arm off by the socket

silver gets so into the scenario that the escape room assigned so he's on Full Survival Mode

constantly gets on the floor to look for clues underneath things too

everyone should pray that there aren't live actors jumping out or anything because he hears Person In Distress and it's actually on sight because he has a duty to protecc

riddle is hella mad about being constantly dragged onto the floor because OW???

azul and ruggie are constantly ransacking the room for items that may be useful

what was that? useful to the puzzle? absolutely not. they're looking for things that are useful to themselves; being useful to escaping is only a bonus

the severed prop arm ruggie found was probably of no use but he's carrying it anyway just because he can

riddle and azul are the (self-proclaimed) 'designated' logic problem solvers but they overthink it way too much

its actually jade and ruggie that do most of the problem solving bc they actually know how to work in group settings

but don't be fooled, jamil finds out first, but he never explicitly states it. he just nudges people in the right direction

being trapped in a room with the most insufferable people he's met? no thank you. he wants to gtfo as fast as he can w the least attention to himself

kalim and floyd just press and touch everything and somehow end up solving a puzzle together

silver ends up solving the puzzles pertaining to colour or order

riddle makes the most comments about how none of these things are historically accurate, but also ends up being the least helpful sjdhghjk

he keeps getting hooked on the wrong detail and that derails things

azul takes a dig at how riddle is focusing too much on a useless thing but ends up being equally derailed by the wrong detail

if given flashlights, kalim keeps fidgeting with it and is happy to be everyone's lamp

they could be in the middle of solving a puzzle and at the same time, someone will be revealing a childhood story and they all end up bonding

until someone decides its time for a Jokey-Joke and end up revealing some craaaazy trauma story and the whole group goes quiet for a little bit

(aka kalim did this unknowingly)

after getting out, the staff informed the group that they couldve freed themselves from the handcuffs by following the first clue

(they started from the second one because azul unknowingly swiped the first clue for ruggie go hoard ajdkkvkf)

also the staff thanked jamil for fixing the lights and a few mechanisms and gave the entire group a discount ojhfkkdlf

so sorry jamil, even more attention has been drawn to u

6/10 teamwork makes the dream work but they're only good at being friends not teams

third years

everyone and their mother knows this group does not make it out (alive)

when they're ushered into the room and told the premise, lilia, cater, and leona are already laughing and making fun of the scenario

as soon as the group is told to open their eyes, rook, malleus, and vil start commenting on the decor and atmosphere

idia just wants to win but he and trey both agree that their current group is doomed

(also no one knows what the scenario is bc they kept talking over it)

trying to get the keycard out of some locked box was their first puzzle

malleus is three seconds away to tearing the door off his hinges when rook gleefully proclaims he's found the key in one of the prop toilets

when everyone starts looking for clues, there's constant insults being flown around of how 'the drawer is out of bounds, stop trying to open it' or 'stop looking there, we're supposed to solve this puzzle first'

and yes they use their only clues on the first freaking puzzle bc no one knows what the hell is going on and then in later puzzles they keep blaming and arguing that SOMEONE used up all their clues on the first freaking puzzle

any sort of corpse or decaying statue will have at least two people pointing at it and claiming 'its you'

in fact, cater starts carrying the supposed possessed doll because it kinda looked like lilia

idia was laughing his ass off at this before mal got pissy at him & twisted off a mannequins hand and freaked out both idia and cater with a severed hand

rook ends up cuddling with the horror prop before lilia wanted a turn

at another point, he yanked off a bolted lock since it was getting in the way, and about half the group freaked out bc why??!? why did you do that?!?!

cater lap dances the statue, which then vil criticized by saying "put more back into it"

the weight shift caused the statue to light up

when finally being presented a clue that they had to crawl a tunnel to get to, everyone told lilia to get down, and ofc he just squatted and this LOUD crack came from his joints so trey felt bad enough to the point where he crawled in instead

then rook starting carrying the prop skeleton everywhere. it's his ventriloquist arc

the counter for the most 'IDIOT's being thrown around goes to this group

seven forbid there is an old computer that pertains to a puzzle because malleus would suggest to use magic to shock it into working every ten seconds

lilia and leona end up trying to guess the password while everyone else was looking for clues

idia would insult the computer like how is this fossil still up and running?

they were supposed to find the keyboard but idia Knows His Stuff and used the on-screen keyboard to push in the password

around half an hour in, malleus got bored and started speaking in his mother tongue

lilia started communicating in hisses and clicks, which the rest of them believed was a response to malleus (its not, but mal responded in the same fashion although no one, not even the speakers, knew what the other was saying)

in the other room, you will hear rook and cater singing a duet just to have something to do and every time a new song starts, a shoe will be thrown at the pair

i'd give them like a 2/10 because, honestly, they only solved like 2 puzzles, and that's only because of cater fooling around for one of them, and the other was because leona & idia were so freaking mad at being stuck in the first room that they solved it just to get a second room to themselves

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wilsons-journey · 3 months

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Astraeus Fateseeker

More information below the cut:

He is the father of both Vale (Former Co-Comander and Aurenes Champion) and Ronin. Both of his children come from different mothers - making them half brother and sister.

He left Vale's Family when she was very small. Vale herself can barely remember him. Astraeus is a Revenant and thus traveled the mist and the world a lot. Over the years he grew more and more disconnected from the world - seeing everything through a different layer.

He laters ends up in the Wizard-Tower and becomes Ascended. But before he does this, he fathers Ronin in the believe, Ro will play an essential role in the upcoming Events of Tyria. But it was not Ronin, it was his first Child that gets this role.

Sadly he forgot about her,... and thus misinterpreted a vision he had. Yet his Vision will still become true, just in a way that he hasn't intended.

—

Some Sidenotes:

in the time Vale became Wayfinder for a short while, she was rescued by Astraeus in a fight against Kryptis, as Vale experienced another breakdown and thus was unable to fight. None of them remember each other

Astraeus was born with the same defect, he later inherits to his son Ronin - giving him a lot of female features, despite being a male.

some of the other Wizards also call him Starseeker. It comes from his appearance change, when he enters the mist:

he unknowingly met his grandson Orez in the mists.

he is able to see things, only a few other living beings can see (e.g. energies / anomalies or ghost)

he is able to experience visions like Glint or Aurene

#gw2 #guildwars2 #guild wars 2 #charr #myArt #astraeus #special thanks to guild war 2 for providing me with screens for the background #and special thanks for Mabaki and showing me the world of gradient maps ♥#also: I wanted a sabertooth charr #former known as Isaam

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nothing0fnothing · 7 months

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The characters in the show do a lot to draw comparisons between Beth and Morphy. The American champion Grandmaster who went too insane to play and ended his own life decades before her. Harry Beltik especially can't help but issue the tragic life of Morphy as a cautionary tale to Beth. Keep taking the drugs and see where you end up.

But is Beth really comparable? He's clearly an idol and an inspiration to her, but was his sickness in any way comparable to hers?

From what we know about Morphy and his struggles with mental illness we're told his suffered from some kind of mania "he'd sit up all night chatting to strangers in cafés then play the next day sharp as a knife" that soon gave way to paranoia, and eventually into some kind of delusion where he "feared people were trying to steal his shoes."

I'm not sure if I missed something, but that doesn't sound like Beth to me. Beth is a drunk and a tranquilliser addict, but she's never really shown to be disconnected from reality or paranoid for no reason. In fact we know she drinks and takes the drugs because she's traumatised and is self medicating to numb the pain.

Nope to me, the paranoid, extroverted anxious chess genius sounds more like Benny. With his extravagant fashion and his extroverted personality.

We know Beth can't play having not had a good night of sleep given how her second match against Borgov played out, shes not staying up all night and and playing like a shark the next day. You know who does stay up all night in the university cafeteria drinking coffee and talking shit with the other tournament players, then plays so well hes in the finals the next day? Benny.

Beth is consistently shown to be introverted, preferring to socialise in small bites than constantly around people. Benny is the one who loves to be surrounded on all sides in a chat about chess and theory, him in the center of course.

Then we have the scene, it's so quick it's barely touched on. Where Beth asks Benny about the knife. And he tells her it's for protection... idk that seems like a peek into the sprouting start of Bennys paranoia to me.

Remember Morphy had an entire chess career before falling off the deep end. He was probably a little bit disconnected from reality as a young man, but he wasn't really noticablely unwell until we'll into his life and his career. Benny is only young himself and showing these minor cracks of paranoia already. Beth is like 23 at the oldest and EVERYONE knows she's not okay. She's struggling openly and publicly and she has already been almost completely incapacitated by her addiction.

Basically Beth isn't Morphy, Benny is.

#the queen's gambit #beth harmon #benny watts

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happyk44 · 3 months

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DID!Jason AU but instead of Reyna being the first to find out it's Hazel. He was there briefly when she arrived and he noticed the way she went into trances, how she'd stumble off quickly somewhere quiet and private, how she looked around and seemed disconnected from the world, touching things with hesitant fingers and only ever relaxing when her brother appeared at her side.

It's a massive vulnerability, but she falters and struggles and he can never let his people down. So he pulls her aside and asks her direct. She flubs around the truth, but he's too narrowed in, so she admits little pieces of it instead. He knows there's things she's holding back, but at least she's confessed to some of the pains - pains he can help with.

He talks her through different grounding techniques. How to center herself in her body, how to remain intact with the world. Even if the disconnect never vanishes, here is how to stay present. How to remember you are real, the world is real.

That you are alive and safe.

It's a month and some change, two days before he'll be plucked up from his sleep by his step-mother and have the few memories he can recall ripped from his mind, when she catches him stripping out his own pains the way an animal gnaws at an injured toe.

It doesn't flow as easily as the blood dripping off the edge of his sword. Instead it wells thick on the tip of his tongue. Like the blood beading on his thigh.

Hazel is quiet as she smooths nectar over the deep gaping wound. They both stare in pensive silence as it heals slow.

"Is this how you remember you're real?" she asks.

It's the first time they've ever acknowledged that his understanding of her comes from personal experience. He never speaks of it as his own - stays vague and distant. Veering too far into admissions of vulnerability makes Grace's claws itch and JJ's eyes well.

Too much risk.

The world is a dangerous place, his forgotten memories whisper from their hiding place.

But how do you know? he asks.

And the hidden memories never answer. But the knowledge remains. Never reveal yourself. Stay protective of your fleshy parts, your valuable organs. Be alert, be strong.

Don't cry.

He drags his thumb flat across the dried nectar. It's tacky to the touch. He chews on his lip. She stares. Doesn't say a word. He can barely hear her breathing, her chest unmoving.

Don't, Grace hisses.

He grips his thumb so tightly in his fist he thinks he might break it. Hazel presses her palm against it. The world tightens ever so slightly.

Then, "Has anyone ever said to you that I'm incapable of crying?"

She blinks. "Yeah." Shifting on her knees, her back straightens. "I thought it was a weird joke."

He pokes at the wound. Pressed two fingers against it. Pain spikes at the back of his head. It is a joke. He cries. At least, a part of him does. Has he ever cried himself - as Jason, not JJ? As the leader everyone looks towards, as the son of Jupiter, champion of Juno - the host of the body that never felt like his?

He can't remember.

"It's kind of a joke," he said. He's cried while laughing before. Teared up at a sad movie. But from sadness and pain... "But sometimes it's not."

She doesn't push. Lets him find his words.

"I'm not connected to this body like other people are to theirs," he says slow. He pressed his fingers harder into skin. The wound is near healed and it's unfair. The pain centers him to reality. Now it's a ghost of what it was, what it should have been. He didn't have it long enough to stay real. "Or even how you are to yours."

Her eyes flicker to the tacky residue and pink scar on his thigh.

"I... have... other people," he says, "... in my head." There is no eye contact although she tries. She shifts. He cracks. "One of them deals with the crying for the rest of us. But that's why I don't... I'm not..."

He doesn't finish.

She doesn't push for him to do so.

Instead she hums under her breath, a gentle reverberation he clings to. "When I was younger..." She falters then exhales sharply. "When I was younger, there was a girl in my neighborhood who talked about the people in her head." She pinches the skin between her thumb and forefinger. "Before I moved, her mom shot her dad because he'd been..."

The trail of her voice runs cold, but Jason can see the rest of it behind the frost.

"I'm pretty sure that wasn't me," he says. He'll never really know though. JJ hides everything in his damned cave. Jason's pretty sure he'll never know what truly happened to fracture him - to turn him into pieces of a person.

They can press themselves altogether as much as they want but there's still too many chips missing to fully fit in this vessel.

"Are they nice to you?"

He blinks. Her gaze is earnest. He looks away. "Yes."

"That's good," she says. She fiddles with her fingers. Clears her throat a few times. Then, "I was dead."

He pauses. Waits. It takes a moment before she exhales shallow and slow. "Nico..." She closes her eyes. "Thanatos is missing, and Nico brought me back. I was." Her eyelids wrinkles. She breathes in and out, presses her hands to her chest, then to the floor.

Grounding herself to reality.

Relaxing slow, she continues on. "I'm from the 30s. Sometimes my memories of back then hit me. Nico thinks it's because we didn't go through the proper channels for rebirth but..."

The proper channels wouldn't spit her out as she was. Would've washed her clean of thought and memories and deposited her into a newborn, screaming and crying and covered in blood.

"That's why I dissociate." She gestures loosely. "I think part of me still thinks I'm dead. And that's why I can't really... Connect to the world like I used to." Her brows furrow. "Honestly I don't really remember how I used to."

"Most people don't have to think about it," he says. She snorts and sighs. "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" she huffs back.

"Yes." He prods the spot where the wound lied. All that's left is the faint touch of nectar, no longer tacky and barely evident from where his skin soaked it up. "I've been this way for all that I can remember, Hazel. I'm fine."

She stares pointedly at his fingers. He bites his lip.

"I don't know why," he admits. "But it helps."

"It also hurts you," she cuts back. Part of him falls back internally, Grace rising to defense. He holds himself tight. She's not mad. She's not accusing. Just stubborn and pointed.

Everything is fine.

"It can't help if it hurts." Her face falls. She sinks back into her heels. "But I get it."

He wonders what hurt her that she thought was helping. If she remembers it clear and cut, or if, like him, it's been hidden away, locked up in a cave in the deep crevices of her mind.

"Grace doesn't like it when I do it either," he blurts out. She blinks. He clears his throat. "He's one of the..."

Jason gestures loosely to his head where Grace is currently blaring distress and bitter emotions his way.

"Oh!" Hazel's lip quirk into a little half smile. "I always thought Grace was a girl's name."

Indignation followed by a begrudging acceptance of the facts beats through Jason's skull. He chokes out a half laugh, stifled by Grace's own annoyance. "Yeah. I didn't realize that until I was older. Pretty sure he just took it because it's my last name."

"Is his last name Jason then?" she jokes.

He laughs. It rolls through his chest. A gentle contentedness sits in him, present and focused. "I never asked." I'm here and I'm real and I'm fine, he thinks. "But I don't think he has a last name."

Hazel nods before sliding off her calves and onto the floor. She sighs quietly. Then reaches for his hands. He's slow to take them but she holds him firm.

"Five things you can see," she says. She looks around the bathroom. "Toilet stall, sink, tiles, tiles, tiles."

He smiles just a bit. "Wall, floor, my sword, the hand dryer, and..." His eyes fall flat on her face. "My friend."

Her smile is small and warm. He clings to the sensation as much as he can.

"Four things you can touch." She reaches out to touch his face, then the floor, then her hair, then his hair. Her fingers drift steady through the short strands. Her clipped nails scratch gently at scalp.

When he hand rejoins his, it's his turn.

He smoothes one hand against the cool tile of the floor. One fingertip slides against the rough groove of grout. Next he pulls and tugs at his camp shirt, an old one that he sleeps in. He plays with the fraying holes for a moment before going back to Hazel's hand, gripping it tight.

He can touch her.

He's real.

"Three things you can hear," he murmurs.

He closes his eyes. There's the gentle hum of electricity coursing through the building, the sound of their entwined breathing, and the rustle of leaves outside the doors. He wonders how easy it is for her to go through this and the next bit. Sound and small carries on air. It's always easy for him to pick up the little things others wouldn't catch as well.

But she breathes in and out, and says, "Two things you can smell."

The bleach used to wipe down the bathroom. It's faint and lingering, but there in his nose. The crisp scent of coconut from Hazel. It's strongest in her hair, but drifts from her skin ever so slightly.

"One thing you can taste."

She snorts. "My saliva."

He laughs, and agrees, "Saliva."

Her hands are relaxed against his. Part of him doesn't want to let go. He's here, he's real, he's fine. Will that stay if he lets go?

Yes, Grace murmurs. You know it will.

Not for long, he thinks.

No, Grace agrees. A whiff of dejection curls through Jason's skin. Not for long.

He opens his eyes and lets go. She's still sitting with her eyes closed. But her hands pull back to rest against her thighs as she breathes. Then slowly she settles back into reality.

"Are you okay?" she asks.

"Are you?" he says with a wide pointed stare but a playful smirk.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm okay."

Together they stand. She stretches backwards and rubs her knuckles against her thighs. It's pleasant. It's liminal. The bathroom lights and the white, pristine tiles. How can they be so present in a place that oozes transition?

He flips his sword into a coin and tucks it gently in his pocket. His thigh doesn't hurt. Part of him yearns for it. The pain. The reminder. A strange tug at the back of his being that insists the pain is necessary for reasons beyond grounding.

He pushes it away as best he can and walks out the door with Hazel.

As he heads for the Prateor's quarters, she catches him by the wrist. "Promise me you'll try to find me next time you think you need a helping hurt."

Try to find her. No force behind her words. Just an assurance. If he wants help without the blood it costs him to breathe, she's there.

She'd like him to.

But he doesn't have to.

It's as bizarre as the sensation of ruthless acceptance that courses through him. Amazed acceptance undercuts it, his own feelings - thankful, grateful, friendship. But this ruthlessness, this pressing need to agree - whose is its?

Grace?

He nods. "I promise."

She tilts as though to leave but falters. Then, "And if you do need to hurt to help... you can let me know then too. If you want someone to make sure you don't bleed out in the bathroom or anything."

The laugh he exhales is wheezy - more of a distressed nothing than a genuine laugh. Her smile is wobbly.

"Maybe," he says because a promise can't be made for that. She nods anyway.

She gets it.

He wishes he knew how. So he could help her more, help her better.

"Night, Jason," she says as she twists and turns towards the Cohort barracks.

His voice carries on a soft breeze into her ear seconds later. "Goodnight, Hazel."

#hazel levesque #jason grace #my writing #did!jason #my fanfic #happy talks pjo #okay i didnt mean to turn this into a thing lol

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enterwittyjokehere · 2 months

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[Honestly my whole blog could just be Raiden and Richtofen fics and I would lose no sleep at this point, love them way too much.]

The Birds and The... Birds

[Lord Raiden x Amab! Reader smut]

[⚠️Warnings⚠️]

[Amab reader]

[Hinting at a secret relationship]

[Smut shared between two men 18+ only]

[Slight praise kink]

[Mutual mast*rb*tion]

[Joi in a way]

[Raiden really said 'show me how >_<']

"Awe man! Dude it was awesome." Johnny boasted about his activities from the previous night.

The loud, boisterous voice of the earthrealmer earned the attention of lord Raiden, who was just a few feet away.

Johnny's retelling of the previous night, to his friend and fellow earthrealm champion, did not go unheard by the protector of earthrealm. Although the slang Johnny used was foreign and confused Raiden, his mind swarmed with questions.

Raiden knew who he could ask, he would just have to wait until the training for the day was over. The strange words lingered in his mind, he began to mull over the best way to ask for later.

"What is hooking up, as Johnny cage calls it?"

The booming voice of Raiden earned your attention, you quirked an eyebrow in confusion, "I beg your pardon, lord Raiden?"

"My dear, please, no need for formalities, there's no one around." He spoke, moving his hands to your shoulders, he leaned down placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Wait, but what did Johnny say?" You asked, turning to face the large God standing before you.

"That he 'hooked up with someone last night' and he went into large detail of how great it was but he did not, happen to explain the meaning of such words." Raiden, although he did love humanity, was very disconnected from their culture.

"Umm, well, hooking up with someone, Elder gods-! Where to start...?" You paused, waiting for the words to come to you, "Us, humans, you are familiar with us, yes?"

"Yes." He spoke, only slightly amused at your teasing.

"We have basic instincts that ultimately drive us, similar to other animals, one of these instincts is procreation..." You paused, looking back at Lord Raiden, who now wore a slight blush, "Although, Humans have kind of evolved past, the need to procreate, every time, and now crave the action that would typically led to procre-"

"Yeah, yeah. I get it, my darling." He waved his hand dismissively.

"So.... when your not dating or married to someone but you have s*x, as we call it, you would call that 'hooking up'." You explained, your heart was racing and embarrassment reddened your face.

"Hmm, O-Okay then." Raiden spoke softly, his glowing eyes avoiding your own, his finger to his lip as if he was deep in thought.

You let out a struggled breath as you wondered what he was thinking, "Rai?"

He glanced up at you, "Yes, my dear one?"

"Everything okay?" He only nodded, before looking away again.

"Have you hooked up with other humans?"

You bit your lip, unsure of how to answer, "well, I've had s*x yeah, but I've probably been more selective than Johnny Cage."

"Selective?" Raiden asked, seeking your gaze, "How are you selective?"

"Well, I've only shared such activities with people I got really close with in my relationships." You explained, wearing a crimson sheet on your cheeks, "and Johnny, I doubt has ever had such intimacy with men..."

Raiden allowed himself to laugh, chuckling slightly, "probably true, yes. But if all humans are driven by it, why not have more of it?"

You inhaled deeply, "well, some people don't feel the need as heavily and I, personally, find that I can, usually, please myself quite well on my own."

Once again, you averted your eyes in embarrassment. You could feel your heart pounding in your head, as your godly lover hounded you with questions. There was one question, you knew would be next, one you dreaded.

Raiden's mouth opened as he began to speak, your blood ran cold.

"How do you do that?"

"Umm.." You stalled the words, "well, that is something we, humans, call... m*sturb*tion." You closed your eyes tightly, "it's when you please yourself, it's different depending on what set of... parts you have."

"How would people like us do it?" Raiden asked, he had already seen you naked, because you would often stay and sleep at his Temple.

"W-Why so many questions, Lord Raiden?" You asked, his eyes were wide and he was staring intently at you.

"I'm... I am curious." Was the only answer you got.

"W-Well, I typically prefer um taking my hand and doing it, but other men, or some women, may like to have something inserted into them. Really depends on preference." You were over this conversation, you had already had your fill of your lover's sudden interest in this topic.

"What do you do with your hand..." Raiden paused, looking at his own much bigger hand then glancing at yours, "to please yourself?"

"Raiden, do you want me to walk you through it?"

The question was hypothetical, it was supposed to be hypothetical, typically you would have never been so bold. You were just embarrassed and slightly irritated, it was only supposed to be a witty comeback.

Raiden's red face deepened, his white eyes widened, his mouth opened but only for a few moments, snapping shut before any words could leak out. When Raiden nodded you couldn't believe your eyes, "I want to know. I am extremely... curious."

A hand covered your red face, "Okay... Take off your pants.."

Raiden obliged, nodding slightly as he unbound himself from his trousers.

"You may wanna sit down, then I'd typically recline back and grab the base of my... p*n*s." You instructed, feeling not only embarrassed but less than intimate.

When you turned back to face Raiden, he had done what you said, he looked magnificent. Your mouth went dry as your eyes traced down his body, to his godly, no pun intended, c**k.

The God of thunder's flustered face, met your own, his hand awkwardly placed on the base of his large c**k, "L-Like this?" He hesitated.

"Mm... Not exactly, loosen your grip, it may be easier for you if you start moving the hand." A flash of something flashed over Raiden's face, but you couldn't tell if it was confusion... or fear.

"I-I don't know about that." Raiden stammered, uncertainty laced through his words.

"What's wrong, hun?" You asked, looking softly at your troubled partner, "I thought you were curious."

"I... I am." Raiden said, basically pleading.

"Hmm, what would make you feel more comfortable?" You pressed a finger to your lip.

"Maybe, you should show me how to..." The thunder God whispered.

The swiftness in which you turned to face him, almost alarmed him. Making him think he had said something outrageous, "What was that, Lord Raiden?"

"Maybe.... You could show me and I could do what you do, since you're the expert here." He spoke again.

You opened your mouth to speak, but that thought was quickly shut down as your jaws suddenly fixed tightly together. You were speechless, Raiden's gorgeous, blank, white eyes stared at you, picking you apart.

"M-My Beloved?" Raiden called out, your eyes quickly flicking back up to his own. His gaze now showed worry, perhaps he thought he had went to far.

You shook your head, "Umm.... Yeah, Raiden, give me a second..."

You walked out the door, leaving your flustered and sexually frustrated lover laying on his back, with his c**k in his hand.

On the other side of the door, you placed both of your hands over your red face. Taking in deep breaths, you tried to calm your racing heart, thoughts and fears pounded away at your mind.

"My dove...?" Raiden called out, you could hear movement and slight shuffling, "I am truly sorry if i-"

'F**k it.'

You opened the door, still red in the face, Lord Raiden had stood to his feet, sloppily tucking himself back into his trousers, "I was simply curious, I would never attempt to upset you."

"Sit back down, Raiden." He paused, mouth snapping shut as he sat back down, "get yourself situated again."

His eyes widened slightly, nodding as he loosened his pants from his body. A deep breath was let out from your lungs, as you followed suit, stepping out of your pants and throwing your shirt to the side.

Raiden's white eyes, traced your figure, you were so much smaller than the thunder God before you. He staring made your c**k begin to harden, still hidden from raiden view.

"Here, it works better if it's got something to lubricate it, I'll just-" You had gotten closer to Raiden, who tensed at your sudden closeness.

Glancing up at him, you placed your lips to the top of his c**k, before pushing him into your mouth. He sucked a breath in, his head moving back at the sudden sensation.

After you had sufficiently moistened him up, you removed him, your hand gently pumping around him. His hips moved against your hand, needing more, but to his displeasure you removed your hand.

Moving to sit beside him, palming your own c**k through your underwear, "...F**k-"

Raiden's lidded eyes moved to you, watching as you disrobed, you licked your hand and began moving around your own c**k. Raiden's eyes focused on your hand as he placed his hand back in position.

“Just start with pumping, all the fancy twisting feels good but we'll take it slow for now.” You spoke in between huffs of breaths.

Raiden nodded, copying your movements, his breathing strained as he focused on his movements.

Your eyes watching his movements, a smile found your face, “Yeah, you got it.”

Looking up to see Raiden's glowing irises staring intently at you, his teeth gripping his lip for stability.

“Feels good, Rai?”

He could only nod, words were lost in the sense of euphoria washing over him. The sight drew a chuckle from you, taking your free hand to grab at his jawline, placing a kiss to his lips.

“You're doing great, baby.” You praised, causing a small moan to slip from his mouth.

Moving away from Raiden you continued to pleasure yourself, hips moving against your hands. Raiden also attempted it, but the stimulation obscured his rhythm.

Soon your own thoughts were focused on your own rising climax, forgetting about the thunder God right beside you. You speak your hand up, twisting your wrist as you did, moans leaked from your lips.

The moans were melodious to Raiden, his eyes narrowing on you. Continuing to pleasure himself he watched as you tossed your head back, squeezing your hand tightly around your c**k while you pumped it.

Raiden noticed the way your hand and hips began to stutter, your eyes shut tightly, “Yes, yes, yes… F**k-!”

The white strings dripping down the base of your pretty little shaft made Raiden wince as he tightened his own grip.

He could feel an unusual yet pleasurable tightening sensation, he chased it, slamming his hand down faster and harder. His face soon contorted into a pleasured grimace, as he groaned low and loud.

Your lidded eyes watched as his hips involuntarily stuttered into his hand, small bolts of lightning buzzing off of his body as he hit his peak. Pumping out the white ooze, I leaked down his large c**k, your body moved before you could think about it.

Licking up the base, catching Raiden's c*m on your tongue before moving to suck on his tip. Making him squirm beneath you, “Ah-! Wait… my dove, please-”

He snaked a hand into your hair, tussling it slightly, his lidded eyes found your own as you let him fall from your mouth.

“You are absolutely amazing, my darling.” He spoke the words softly.

#mortal kombat #mk smut #lord raiden #mk11 raiden #mk11 lord Raiden #mk x reader #lord raiden x reader smut #raiden x reader #mk11 #x reader #queer author #fanfic #gay #Lord Raiden is literally the loml

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hummusxx · 9 months

Note

hey ml !! I just wanted to request if we could get a , Jude Bellingham x !Basketballer fem reader , she could be like in LSU women’s tiger basketball for example but , since i have been rlly

wanting ! to read one where atleast reader could play a sport so they could be like a cute sport couple or smth , but yh and keep up the work i love them sm ‼️💋

Champion

Jude Bellingham x lsuwbkb!reader

Summary: becoming a national champion with your soulmate by your side

Running, sweating, shooting, passing. I had gotten into a rhythm. It's the Women's Championship and my mind is racing.

Caitlyn Clark and her team have been phenomenal all year, but so have we. As the seconds ticked down, our points started to rack.

When Caitlyn missed her three, i knew we were going to win. I had a feeling.

As the last 30 seconds approached, I run down the court with the ball, I shoot from the three-point line hoping it goes in. It does.

I celebrate with my team. There was no way Iowa was coming back from this. We have a 17-point lead.

As the buzzer went off and the confetti of purple and yellow sprayed in the air, all I could do was cover my face with my hands. Knowing that we had did it. We had won.

I look to the sideline and see my boyfriend who had traveled all the way from Germany for this special night. He is clapping and jumping up and down alongside my mother and father.

My teammates and I shake hands with the whole Iowa team. We share words of encouragement and tell them to lift their heads up.

It's the best we could do, right? We snatched a title that they were told they would win.

As we accept our awards and celebrate, our family start to be allowed on the court.

As I'm looking for them, I feel someone pick me up and spin me around. I look around and see Jude.

"I'm so proud of you baby" he says to me while giving me a fat kiss on the lips. I wrap my hands around his neck and deepen the kiss. When we brake, I hug him.

I disconnected the hug with him and make my way over to my parents they congratulated me and hug like they've never before. You'd think someone died with how tight there were hugging me.

"You did so well honey" my mom says while kissing me on the cheek. I can feel Jude behind me wrapping his arms around my waist.

"Let me go change and then we and go celebrate" I say to my family and Jude. They all nod their heads and i head to the locker room with all the other players.

I get dressed and celebrate with my team for a bit before talking with Coach. She lets me go out with my family and congratulates me.

I get out of the locker room and make my way out of the tunnel. Jude and my parents are still waiting for me. I grab Jude's hand and we walk out of the arena and too our car.

My parent deciding that it was late and went back to their hotel.

"What would you like to eat my champion" Jude said while looking at me while I was driving.

"You know what i want" i smirk at him and he rolls my eyes.

"Gosh did your mum ever tell you that eating dessert before dinner was bad for you" he says while rolling his eyes. I laugh at him and drive to our hotel, so we can eat our dessert before dinner.

Hummusxx' corner

this is so bad because it was so rushed but thank you so much for the request my dear. I absolutely love lsu and plan to go to college there so when i saw this i knew i had to do it. I hope y'all like it.

#jude bellingham #hummusxx' corner #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #football #jb5 #womens basketball #lsu wbb #lsu tigers #basketball

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exceedinglygayotter · 11 months

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Before TotK came out I was thinking about how many people were probably going to write the logical continuation of all those “the champions came back to life after BotW” fics by writing fics where they’re around for the events of TotK, but after having beaten the game I’m honestly not sure how that would even work, narratively speaking. Nearly every part of Breath of the Wild is intrinsically connected to the Champions, while TotK is so totally disconnected from them. TotK was so dead-set on moving on from the Champions that combining the two just feels unnecessary and contrived, even for a fanfic.

The Divine Beasts aren’t just gone, they’re completely absent, without even a hint as to why they’re missing. If it weren’t for Symin mentioning them during the history lesson you could almost argue that they’d been retconned. Mipha’s mentioned by name a few times, Urbosa only in Riju’s diary, Revali only on the sign for Revali’s Landing, and I don’t think Daruk’s name is said once. Daruk’s Protection is also just missing despite Yunobo having it in the last game, as is the scrap of Daruk’s Champion cloth he wore around his neck.

And from a narrative standpoint, the new Sages make the Champions mostly redundant. That’s kind of the point of them, they’re the successors to the Champions -- even their mechanics are echoes of how the Champions worked in BotW. If you tried to have them both be in the story of TotK you’d end up with Link having four companion characters, and then another four companion characters who do basically the same things. It’s not impossible to still give all of them distinct and interesting narrative roles, but I feel like most people who try to write something like this would just make half of them stay behind and not do anything while the other half sticks with Link. Which, y’know, works, but it’s not really a great solution.

The only ways I can think of to really make this idea work well are to totally rewrite the plot of TotK, or write Age of Calamity fanfic where the Upheaval in that continuity happens a century before it does in canon (which would still require rewriting most of the plot of TotK due to almost none of the same characters being around and Hyrule not being ruined yet.)

I guess you could lean into how out of place they are, how the entire world kind of moved on and left them behind a century in the past, but that only works if they get resurrected after TotK happens or right before it, since if they come back right after BotW then they’ve already been adjusting to that world for several years by the time of the Upheaval.

Honestly I’m probably just going to be writing fic that ignores TotK entirely. I can’t really imagine any stories I want to tell with these characters that would be improved with the addition of the events of TotK.

I might just be unimaginative and a bad writer though, who knows. There’s probably going to be a load of people who will have a go at the idea and do it really well, and I look forward to seeing those.

#fanfic #breath of the wild #loz botw #loz #tears of the kingdom #loz totk #totk #botw #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #revali #urbosa #daruk #mipha #botw champions

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venusvxen · 1 year

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Undermining Inner Movement Due To Lack Of Physical Movement

The only movement that matters is the movement within.

I’ve been thinking lately about why sometimes I would never see my Full manifestations materialized even thought I would ((seriously)) change so much within.

Like seriously.. I’m a person who goes through multiple deaths and rebirths internally. The things I thought last week probably aren’t what I think this week and it’s surely not what I thought last month. I’m always expanding upon my life philosophies and dogmas to try to learn more about the world. Since the beginning of the year I really have completely changed inside. Blossomed into something completely different to the point where the me from pre late March just feels so disconnected from the me of now.

I say all this to say that I Do do the hard inner work and have the hard inner conversations with myself to shed old parts of myself to make room for the new. But then i ask myself, why does my external world not reflect that change?

Honestly this is something that would have me tripped up for a long time because before anyone comes in here saying “it’s clearly because you haven’t changed”, i’m going to stop you right there since I think I know myself better than a stranger on the internet. If anything, I think it’s because I championed external movement more than internal movement.

I was watching some Edward the other day, his video on internal movement. He spoke about how the movement inside should be the only movement we should seek, the outside is merely a bonus. It made me think about how I would undermine my Very Real internal transformations just because there wasn’t tangible evidence on the outside to substantiate that change which, in turn, would lead me back to square 1.

At times I would literally feel trapped by my outside world but as I’m typing this now I realize that it’s because I was too invested in the outer world. This feeling of encagement rlly would be because I would be someone completely different inside, but outside there was nothing to back this up. I felt (sometimes feel) like the world would never change… Like I’m trapped…

But again, the only movement that we’re after is the movement inside since reality is within not without. Me getting to a point where I completely felt like a different person inside should’ve been where I stopped and congratulated myself because that’s where the mission was accomplished… because.. again.. reality exists within.. not without.

Essentially feeling like a new person inside means I associated myself with this new state so much that I felt disconnected from the outside world but my need to see that reflected outside would have me back at square 1 because it was putting me back in a state of lack.

I honestly don’t remember where I was going to go with this but I want to just share this to remind everyone that if you’re like me and find yourself trapped at times, you’re too into the 3D. Remember that the hard part (internal metamorphosis) is already done and go back to your imagination to fulfill urself and experience what you’ve given yourself. Even if it feels like nothing is changing, know that you’ve changed in the only place where it matters and the rest will unfold beautifully … at least that’s what I tell myself

If you know that you’re a different person inside, if you know you’ve done the work, and if you feel disconnected to your 3D that is because you’ve shifted states. You’re more connected to a new version of yourself than you are to the current one in the 3D. Don’t let 3D validation keep you bogged down to the old story by changing your state from (being) to (wanting/waiting).

As I typed the last part I had a new epiphany lol. All the other times in the past I would only get my things half way is because I wasn’t fully committed to the fact that imagination is the only truth. Only half of my toes were dipped into the pool not the full thing. But I’ve decided to really let the mirror go and take a chance on faith and see where that gets us.

That’s all for now. Hope that helped!

#loa #loa blog #loassumption #loa tumblr #loablr #master manifestor #manifesation #manifester #manifesting tips #3d reality #4d reality #loassblog #loa tips

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ofstormsandfire · 50 minutes

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Do you have any good BotW/TotK fic recs? Yours or other people’s!

Boy howdy DO I.

Going to preface this by saying that I have preferences, and those preferences tend to veer towards gay shit and people who don't initially get along ending up ride or die, and as such a high proportion of these are going to be Revalink.

Anyway. The fic that got me into that ship, changed my brain chemistry, and is a large part of why I go !!!! about ghosts (literal and nonliteral) haunting the narrative, characters with amnesia who are supposed to be dead, and the Rito as a whole, is Pinesong by aperplexingpuzzle and that is the fic that makes me go "if you read NOTHING else in this fandom read THIS holy fuck."

(But also you should be reading other things too, because there is so much good shit and I adore it greatly I go back to reread my favorites regularly. Also check out the authors I mention apart from just the fics I link there is so much good fic I'm forcing myself to just pick one per author or else I will be here literally all day.)

Next up: Moonlight (every single night) by Heleentje. Do you like time loops? Do you like characters slowly, painstakingly figuring out how to get it right? Did you get very attached to Revalink from the last fic? how about some ~queerplatonic Zelink~ in this trying time?

Frankly, it is very hard to pick just one fic by Ginneke, they've got so many good ones but I'm going to have to settle on Flowers from your Beloathed, which is another Revalink fic set before the Calamity where, y'know, Revali is getting flowers from a secret admirer. Except he's Revali. Hilarity ensues and I enjoyed the hell out of this one ^-^

Also also. Come Morning Light by misscoconi. Post-Calamity, they are both idiots (affectionate) and I am starting to realize that I have a bit of a pattern in my taste in Revalink fics. Huh. I'll unpack that later actually.

Skybound Wishes by Baddrummer is unfinished (unlike most of the fics I've recommended here) but y'all. Y'all it makes me lose my shit in so many ways because I am a SLUT for creative fix-it fics and gratuitous weaving-in of references to other games in ways that still respect the established canon but respect all of it, y'know, not just doing the TOTK thing of "actually nothing pre-BOTW matters anymore and neither does BOTW lol."

...I am starting to realize there may be a reason why I don't have a lot of TOTK recs. Also if this post is starting to sound unhinged and disconnected that's probably because I'm bouncing between Tumblr and studying for one of my finals like a ping pong ball.

But I do have one really, really big fic rec for TOTK. Y'all should check out Show Me the World Outside by IllusionOfDeath. The Sages get to do things, the Divine Beasts don't just vanish without a word, the Champions get actual recognition, and you can tell that the author is the Linguistics Georg (affectionate) of the fanfic world.

Anyway I think I will shill myself a bit too since you gave me permission to anon! If you read no other Zelda fics by me, may I recommend no one ever mentions fear, a fic that... it really was, in a lot of ways, a love letter to the fics in the fandom that I'd read and loved before. You've got the Champions getting to live and have nice things, you've got Revali being a dumbass (affectionate), you've got gay shit, you've got Problems Being Caused by the Yiga Clan in the background.

...Oh god this post is getting. A little longer than I meant for it to I've realized. Um. I love fanfic and tbh if you end up reading everything I've recced and still want more, my bookmarks on AO3 are public and I tend to bookmark just about everything I've read and liked enough to want to find again.

......I should probably get back to studying now but thank you for the ask! I like rambling lol

#hopeposting #askbox #anonymous #fanfic things

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thewickedkat · 2 years

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i can't help but think that some folks were expecting...less humane more hubristic PCs here. not that the hubris isn't present (because it very much is; all of our characters see events in terms of themselves first and foremost and think of how the world affects them; yes, even Zerxus), but i think some were expecting to see the grandiose, sweeping arrogance emblematic of many wizards in d&d.

instead, they're just folk. granted, they're incredibly powerful, inherently magical and wondrous folk, with the equivalent of bottomless money at their fingertips, but still. just...people. who have no idea of what is coming. and why should they? everyone's focus is narrowed to the realm of their own experience and interpretation: Laerryn is cock-a-hoop with glee at the possibility of...doing whatever she's been faffing about with? Loquatius is focused on branding and networking and keeping his monopoly on news locked down. Patia is neck-deep in wizard guild dramacide. Nydas is busy being a hypercapitalist. Cerrit and Zerxus, to be honest, are the only two of the party who can start to see how pieces of this Rube Goldberg Apocalypse Engine go together--but even then, they don't see what we the audience sees (esp those of us who have been picking up on the lil easter eggs laid out). they don't know that they don't have all the pieces, they don't know what they don't know--and why should they? when a catastrophe is unfolding, we only see all the pieces in the aftermath. and we point and say 'o noes how could they not See' well because when you're so close to it, it looks just like any other day. a day with quirks, sure, but just another day ending in -Y.

and we did not expect the families of our players. sure, there's a shared history amongst them all, but families? loved ones? kids? i remember when people were shocked in C2 when Veth revealed she had a husband and a child. suddenly the stakes are more real. actions will have consequences outside of the party.

all of those children bouncing through Avalir will die. all of them. Brennan knows this and is reminding us every chance he gets. that man does not fuck around. he understands the stakes, what can happen in catastrophes and wars, and he sure as shit groks what a god is to a mortal.

i do not think our PCs understand what a god really is--look at how their society views the Matron of Ravens! as if ascension to godhood, divinity, apotheosis is just something you do before afternoon tea! like it ain't no thang! and their society, like it or not, does influence how they perceive things around them: exhibit A, how Purvan was 'welcomed' and treated. i mean--fuck, i am a dyed-in-the-wool Agnostic to hell and back, but if someone came round and was introduced to be a Champion-with-a-capital-C of a god? i might not believe but i sure as shit wouldn't be rude about it! at least have some fucking manners, rich tit wizards! cos that's just tempting fate!

someone else here on tumblr (forgive me, i read much good cronchy meta last night before sleep and i can't remember who wrote it, apologies) mentioned that disconnect between the gods and the citizenry of Avalir. that (and i'm paraphrasing) the gods are just basically seen as...mortal plus. mortal with spice. and i think that person was bang-on accurate in that assessment: there's anthropomorphising your deities in order to make them seem less Awesome, less terrifying; and then there's making them more like us so that we could tear them from the heavens. to make them killable. both aspects can be dangerous. especially in d&d because the gods have teeth (so to speak), and actively participate in the Prime Material plane. member that whole parable about being welcoming to strangers, in case they're an angel or god in disguise? d&d gods are like that but moreso. and i think the citizens of Avalir do not see that. at all.

as for the Betrayer Gods and the whole 'whom were they betraying?' well. we do know that history is indeed written by the winners--or, in this case, those on the ground who survived and had any context whatsoever for what City life was like--and we also know that villains seldom see themselves as the Bad Guys. they might know that others see them as Bad and Not-Good and Big Big Meany Dookyheads--but themselves? seldom. they have reasons, justifications, through-lines of logic to explain why they are doing what they do (monster-logic but logic nonetheless). it doesn't matter if their contemporaries agree with them, much less mortals. i do not think there's going to be a woobification of the Betrayer Gods (and i wouldn't want one, either; sometimes we just need villains who are villains and we don't always need to soften their jagged edges, thanks), but if we get a supplemental narrative for what their angle is on this whole CalamityFest is? i'm down.

i will probably have more pointless rambles as this miniseries progresses, but so far i am enjoying the ever-loving shit out of it. last night was a roller coaster of me being riveted, flapping around like a wounded duck, and screeching gleefully into cushions so as not to wake my partner. and i can't wait for more.

#critical role #cr spoilers #exu spoilers #exu: calamity

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yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt · 14 days

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1, 2, 7, 15, 18 from this ask game

1. What was the first fandom and/or pairing that you wrote fic for?

Like, ever??? When I was in 6th grade I wrote (and published on the ancient ff.net) Warrior Cats fanfiction 😭 in Year of our Lord 2011. It has since been erased. When I got back into writing as an adult, Nimona/Goldenheart was the first fandom and ship I published for. I'd been writing disconnected drabbles for various fandoms before that, though.

2.Do you participate in any writing events or challenges throughout the year? If so, what do you like about them?

I am participating in the Nimona Big Bang and I participated in Nimona Week! I may also be participating in Goldenheart Week once I check out the prompts!

What I really liked about Nimona Week was seeing different people's take on the prompts. For a lot of them I really assumed everyone would have the same idea but they really didn't! It was great to see so many interpretations and to see stories/art made that otherwise probably wouldn't have been :)

7. What do you struggle with when writing?

I have a really hard time writing action sequences. I think they usually come out okay, I just find them boring to write. This even happens with smut sometimes, if the characters are just DOING and not TALKING or ruminating, I get bored lmfao. I also find it hard for characters to communicate emotions to one another without using "therapy speak" which I see writers get made fun of for a lot but like, I'm neurodivergent. So are most people I love. I'm used to explaining how I feel and having others do the same, everything else is foreign to me. I don't quite understand how to write characters unintentionally miscommunicating their own emotions because like, I don't even know how to do that irl lmfao.

15. A Hollywood producer tells you that they want to film just one of your fics. Which fic would you want it to be?

This one is hard bc it means it would have to be both good, adaptable to film, and capable of standing without the source material. I think Ballister Has Brain Trauma and Ambrosius Wants to Beat the Ever-Loving Shit out of Todd Sureblade would be the best to adapt into that medium because it's more of a Things Happen than a People Talk fic like most of my others. As a sidenote what the fuck was July Yrrt thinking with that title? Lmao

18. What is a line/scene you’re really proud of? Give us the DVD commentary for that scene.

It's super hard to say, because I can't remember half of what I write 😭 I think I really like the scene from What Still is Yours where Ballister looks at the portrait of Ambrosius hanging in the Champion's Mansion.

"The person in the portrait was beautiful, as Ambrosius was, but he did not have the mischievous lilt in his smile that was somehow always there, even when his intentions were completely genuine. He didn't have the same eager softness in his blue eyes that bored into your soul and screamed "Here I am, love me, love me, love me." His teeth were perfectly straight and didn't have the little gap from sucking his thumb too much as a child that years of orthodontics hadn't been able to fix."

I just thought it was super sad and sweet and spoke to how well Ballister still knew Ambrosius and how much he still loved him even after all that had happened. One of the main things I notice about loving someone is their face becomes sort of etched into your mind, I experience face blindness so someone has to be pretty close to me for a long time before they become recognizable, and I thought this was a nice contrast between the Institution's image of Ambrosius versus how Ballister saw him / how he really was.

Ty for the ask!!! Please feel free to keep asking 💕

Questions Post

#ask game #30 questions for writers #nimona fanfic #yywihh fics

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lurkinglurkerwholurks · 7 months

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Carried

First posted: December 17, 2018

Focuses on: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson

Favorite bookmark: "Sad but in a good way"

Tier: Pretty middle of the road in all aspects, which I actually find surprising; I thought it was higher

This is my “behind the scenes” series where I indulge myself horribly by annotating my fics. Link to the fic itself above. Thoughts below the cut.

This is a fun one to look back on because it was made to fulfill @hollyhock13's Christmas stocking ("Janet Drake’s funeral was canonically held on Christmas Eve :)") and that was a stranger back in 2018 but we're friends now.

Tim stared, dry-eyed, at the minister’s shoes. They were shiny but mud-flecked, a consequence of the walk through the cemetery to the grave. The earth beneath their feet was cold and hard, but it had slurried the night before and made a mess of the grounds. His mother would have hated it. She would have worn impractical stiletto heels, despite the cold and the terrain, and would have grumbled the entire way from the car. But she didn’t. As the guest of honor, she was carried instead.

I have attended many funerals but no burials, so this was all a mix of TV and guesswork on my end, the way things go. I will say I'm still awfully pleased with that final sentence there.

That was okay. He had been kind to Tim, his hand warm and dry as they shook before the service. He had asked how Tim was doing and seemed to hear all the things he didn’t say. The minister might not have known Janet Drake, but when he spoke, his voice was full of warmth and gentle compassion.

I also know many pastors (no priests, plenty of reverends), so it was important to me to make the appearance of this one, unnamed though he is, feel realistic to my lived experience. Not a villain or a bogeyman, just a guy doing a job with basic human compassion for a boy who's lost his mom. I do roll my eyes in books when the POV person is like "This stranger that we hired to officiate over the funeral clearly didn't know the deceased!" I mean. You hired a stranger. That's on you, friend. For whatever reason, hiring a person of faith to preside over the ceremony was a choice that you made, even if the dead person hadn't made a connection to the faith in their life.

That was a tangent.

Jack had loved his wife at one point, Tim knew. They’d loved each other even when they hadn’t loved him. But it had been a very long time ago, and they had both moved on.

As with all things, I know the adult Drakes primarily through other fic, which portrays a range of behaviors and attitudes. I selected this specific one, because I had no interest in dealing with a grieving widower and neither did I want to fuss with an actively abusive Jack as opposed to a neglectful Jack.

Jack had returned to Gotham, stepping foot in his home for the first time in weeks. Always a force of nature, he had swept through the house like a mudslide, putting together the service and funerary arrangements over the phone even as he boxed and bagged his wife’s belongings to donate.

Had to make sure this squared with Much That Once Was. People who write full original novels are champions for keeping everything straight.

Shouldn’t it have been an indelible moment for him, seeing his mother disappear beneath the earth? She had cradled him, once upon a time. Shouldn’t it mean more to watch her go? He cringed away from the idea of feeling pain, but surely pain was preferable to this icy numbness.

Personally, I've had relatives die, but so far they've been people I loved very much but only saw a couple times a year. It was interesting to take some of the disconnect I've experienced, dial it way way up, and give it to Tim for a different reason. (Tim's reason is he never had a relationship with his mother, not even the chance of one, so he has nothing to mourn. At least with Jack he could grieve what might have been.)

Yet here he was, looking down at them both in his tasteful Armani suit.

Now that I know a tiny bit more about rich people, I suspect that there are fancier brands than Armani that Bruce would know. Still couldn't tell you what they are, though. Something from Saville Row, maybe?

Dick, dressed in a slightly less expensive suit than Bruce’s, stepped forward and shook Jack’s hand. He and Bruce stood the same way when at rest. Tim wondered if they knew.

Another personal favorite of mine, using a third party to clock similarities between members of the Fam. It's fun in real life, too, thinking about Perception and acquired traits and what we pick up from other people as we roll along through life together.

“Hey, Tim,” Dick murmured. His gaze was too warm, too sympathetic. Tim returned a mumbled hello and looked away.

The use of temperature, literal and metaphorical, was fun in this fic.

“Geez, Timbo.” Dick took off his coat and wrapped it around Tim.

Again, the only genuine nickname I'll allow for Tim.

Once the issue of propriety was settled, helped along by a dash of that old Gotham guilt over poor orphan Bruce, it was simple enough to steal Tim away.

Bruce's place within Gotham's collective consciousness is a fun thing to dig into, depending on whether you want him to be their darling boy, a scandal, or something else.

They took him back to their car, a stately standard limousine that Tim hadn’t seen before, Bruce on his right and Dick on his left. Alfred met them at the car and opened the door.

I like the idea of Bruce having a standard Serious Rich Person car that he saves for Serious Rich Person events like funerals. I also like the idea of Batman and Nightwing as Tim's careful honor guard.

Bruce and Dick exchanged a look that Tim couldn’t decipher. They looked so alike, despite not being related. What must it feel like to be able to look at another person and understand what they were thinking without a word spoken? What did it feel like to have your soul be that close to another’s?

I love themmmmm

“There’s no mission?” Tim lifted one hand, brushed the limp hair from his eyes. “Then why are you here?” “Because your mother died.”

I've said this before, but I wish you all could hear what I hear in my head. Not all the time, but sometimes there is a very specific intonation and there's no other way a line can be said for me. This is one of them. It wasn’t that Tim had never heard Bruce speak with such tender softness. As terrifying as he could be, Batman had been known to crouch down in front of the smallest, most frightened child and lure them out by his voice alone. But Tim wasn’t sure why Bruce was speaking that way to him, or why it made something inside him begin to tremble.

Another very fun trope, knowing someone is a certain contradictory way and then being taken aback when they turn that soft, contradictory nature your way because you don't see yourself the way they do.

“Come here.” When Tim didn’t move, Bruce spoke again. “Tim. Come here.” The car was still moving, but Tim unbuckled and rose in a crouch, shifting from his bench seat to the spot between Bruce and Dick.

This was frustrating, because by all accounts Dick likely would have sat next to Tim when they first climbed into the car, but I wanted him to be able to see both their faces easily during the conversation and have the moment where he went from being opposite them to nestled between them. We must sacrifice common sense to art, sometimes.

“We’ll talk about that tomorrow.” There was a pause, another unspoken communication over Tim’s head. “Or maybe the day after.”

Because tomorrow is Christmas.

“Rest while you can,” Bruce advised, his chest rumbling beneath Tim’s cheek. “Alfred has been baking all day. You’ll need your strength.”

s t r e s s b a k i n g

Tim nodded and curled his fingers around Dick’s as he closed his eyes. It was wrong, he was pretty sure, to feel this happy while riding away from his mother’s funeral. The tears might never come, or they might appear later and drown him in their strength. But no matter what happened, it was nice to know he had people to carry him through. It was almost like having a real family.

Like a happy little assassin I like to sneak in a final stab under the ribs when least expected.

BONUS: The fic title is a double meaning (Janet being carried in her coffin but also Tim being metaphorically carried by Bruce and Dick) but also a friend in college wrote a song with this title about his then-friend future wife and it's what I hear in my head every time I look at this fic.

#fanfic bts brain dump #tim drake #batfam #batfic #bruce wayne #dick grayson

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